A Hologram for the King by Dave Eggers (Review/Reflection)

Singapore, 2012.

I saw an outstanding film called English Vinglish this weekend. Though the entire film is memorable, one of my favourite moments was a scene where the protagonist arrives in America visibly nervous about how she’ll manage with her limited English skills, and her seatmate on the flight wishes her well on her stay, and says, “Don’t worry about anything. It’s now time for them to be scared/worried about us“.

He is smiling and confident because of India’s rising economic strength, and in the film’s treatment of a woman altered understanding of herself and her changing relationship with her family, a larger tale of changing economic and cultural rules on a global scale is told.

Through a different story and different characters, the theme of the rise of “non-Western world” and the decline of America is also addressed in Dave Eggers’ new book A Hologram for the King. If you haven’t read it already, I recommend the read for the following five reasons:

1) The World is Changing

The book centers around the story of Alan, an American who comes to Saudi Arabia to bid for an IT contract for KAEC (the King Abdullah Economic City) on behalf of the company he works for called Reliant. KAEC is meant to be a massive project, and Alan desperately needs the commission from the contract to resolve his personal economic failures and limited career prospects. In telling his story, Eggers tells a larger story of America’s shifting financial power and the decline of its manufacturing sector. Against the “real-life” backdrop of an election that has focused so much on domestic jobs and restoring America’s economic strength, it is a timely read.

2) Urban Planning is Changing

The book argues that the most exciting and innovative planning work is not happening in North America anymore. In my own graduate work, I attended lectures where planners such as Larry Beasley praised the vision and resources of cities like Abu Dhabi while exhorting domestic planners to embrace the challenges of Canadian cities with creativity, not blind “rule-following”. In this book, the main character’s experience with municipal planning is facing obstacles/penalties when attempting to build a simple three foot wall; in KSA he is desperate that the King should follow through on his dream of an entire city. This book also suggests that  city building can act as a battlefield where war and hostile relations between nations can be addressed.

3) This book is beautifully constructed

Eggers describes KSA and Alan’s struggle with Saudi Arabia well.  He desperately needs the IT contract, but he is also fearful and incredulous of the place, and the combination leaves him weak. In one scene in particular, he passes by a playground and sees women in “charcoal black burqas” with their children. The sight of “their hands stretched forth” to play with their kids strikes fear in his heart. In another scene, he sees “young women in abayas, glittering abayas on their forearms, groups of young men hungrily inspecting them (p.220), and he judges what he sees.

As a result of this cognitive dissonance, he is incapable of performing anything successfully. He imagines tumours, he is unable to catch the hotel shuttle, and he cannot write successfully to his daughter, meet the KIng, or be with a woman. And his own powerlessness and tense waiting is carried throughout the book by sentences that are lean and efficient. Each sentence is carefully crafted. Each word has to fight for its survival.

4) Timely

The topic of the decline of America’s manufacturing sector is timely against the backdrop of the current US election, but throughout the book there are references to recent events that we should continue to think about. The events in Gaza. The BP spill. In these references, and Alan’s discomfort when thinking about them, there is an opening to think about our own understanding and responses to these events.

6) Thoughtful.

This book has some wonderful passages. Below are two of my favourites.

a) “Kit you know the key to relating to your parents now? It’s mercy. Children, when they become teenagers and then young adults grow unforgiving. Anything but perfection is pathos. Children are judgemental on an Old Testament level. All errors are unforgivable, as if a contract of perfection has been broken. But what if one’s parents are granted the same mercy, the same empathy as other humans? Children need more Jesus in them” (p.104)

b) “The Earth is an animal that shakes off its fleas when they dig too deep, bite too hard. It shifts and our cities fall; it sighs and the coasts are overtaken. We really shouldn’t be here at all.” (p.102)

Reading Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton

In the last year of my undergrad I took a number of English courses, and these classes taught me the importance of reading carefully. We read slowly, examining structure, noticing varied sentence length, admiring literary devices, researching the origin of epigraphs and learning the details of plot advancement. As someone who is often impatient to get to the end of a book, it was startling to discover how much is hidden in the art of telling a story. I learnt the words we choose matter, and the more you know about the milieu a book is set in, the challenges and debates it is responding to, the life and history of the author, and the connections that exist between one book and other works, the better your understanding of that particular book will be. The more closely you read, the deeper and more meaningful your encounter with a text.

Like those masterful English professors, Alain de Botton is an author who changes the way you understand the world.  He reads closely, and the results of his scrutiny are thought-provoking and meaningful.

Last week I read his book Status Anxiety, a book about modern life’s obsession with status. (Note: the examples and discussions are largely limited to the West). The book is divided into two sections – the cause of status anxiety (with chapters devoted to each suggested cause of snobbery, dependence etc). In this section he suggests a possible origin for status anxiety:

“A sharp decline in the actual deprivation may, paradoxically have been accompanied by an ongoing and even escalating sense or fear of deprivation. Blessed with riches and possibilities far beyond anything imagined by ancestors who tilled the unpredictable soil of medieval Europe, modern populations have nonetheless shown a remarkable capacity to feel that neither who they are nor what they have is quite enough.”(p.25)

The second section is called Solutions and has separate chapters on Philosophy, Art, Politics, and Religion. As a whole, the book is a reminder of how fleeting worldly status is, and through an exploration of classic literature, paintings, satire, western philosophy and tragedy, explains how different philosophers, artists and writers have sought to delink the association between the value of a person and their material worldly position.

It’s a wonderful read, particularly because the examples used are so interesting and familiar, and his insights are thoughtful.  He talks about the novel Middlemarch and how although Dorothea Brooke is a ‘failure’ by society’s standards,her soul is rich, and she is of one those ‘unvisited tombs’ who makes life better for those around them. In his discussion of another classic heroine, Fanny Price of Mansfield Park,  he describes Jane Austen’s intellectual project in all her books as an attempt to reform society and alter the lenses through which we view people. In Mansfield Park, Austen creates the character of Fanny Price, an obscure and poor individual who lacks worldly importance, and who cannot forgive and/or respect the Bertrams for their materialism, moral depravity and hypocrisy. Their wealth makes them ridiculous, it has no connection to making them subjects of respect. Fanny’s vision is clear and perceptive and when we see the world through her eyes, de Botton argues, we are more likely to view our own world through a clearer lens.

When explaining Greek tragedy, the author describes tragedy as a genre that expands our capacity to emphasize with how ordinary people can fall when confronted with specific circumstances. He notes that tragedies enable use to see people with nuance and complexity – unlike the media headlines that limit what we can learn and know about a person. To illustrate this point, he gives the example of the classic novel Madame Bovary. The novel was based on a newspaper article about a 27 year old French woman who killed herself after leaving her family and feeling stifled by her marriage.

For me, one of the most powerful parts of the books is its analysis of wealth. The author points out that

” Being truly wealthy.. does not require many things; rather it requires having what one longs for. Wealth is not an absolute. It is relative to desire. Every time we yearn for something we cannot afford, we grow poorer, whatever our resources. And everytime we feel satisfied with what we have, we can be counted as rich, whatever little we may actually possess. There are two ways to make a man richer reasoned Rousseau: give him more money or curb his desires.” (p.43)

He furthers this point by saying that we decide whether what we possess is enough by comparing ourselves to a referent group of people who we consider to be our peers. If we feel differences between us and our peers we feel diminished, but if the comparison shows us that we are equivalent or slightly better, then we don’t feel so bad, even though our actual situation in either case may be precisely the same.

More importantly, praise that is not deserved does not change who we are:

“Does what is praised become better? Does an emerald become worse if it isn’t praised? And what of gold, ivory, a flower or a little plant? Marcus aimed to take his bearings from the person he knew himself to be: “Will any man despise me? Let him see to it. But I will see to it that I may not be found doing or saying anything that deserves to be despised.” (p.114)

“Rather than allow every instance of opposition or neglect to wound us, we are invited by the philosophers first to examine the justice of other’s behaviour.  Only that which is both damning and true should be permitted to shatter our esteem. We should forever forswear the masochistic process wherein we seek another’s approval before we have even asked ourselves whether that person deserves to be  listened to – the process, that is, whereby we seek the love of those for whom, as we discover upon study, their minds we have scant respect.” (p.117).

There is much more to be said as this is a very rich, wonderful text, but in summary, this book made me think about whether we have space to have conversations about anxiety, fear in modern cities. Much of this book is about how anxiety over status and social positioning has increased as modern life has become less hierarchical and more secular, and that arguably, something has been lost in the process. How do we create communities which are healthy for the mind, soul and heart, and where we can see the world in ways that separate material positioning from personal worth? This is perhaps a question de Botton answers in his newest book: Religion for Atheists, but I’m curious to hear the thoughts of others.

Additional resources:

The TED Talk about the book:

Meeting Piscine Molitor Patel

When I meet new people, it matters what their tastes in books are – not because I judge people based on what they read, but because when you share a love for a book with someone that leads to deep conversations, and when they introduce you to new material, that gift widens your awareness of the world.

Ten years ago a friend recommended the book Life of Pi but I gave up halfway through because the descriptions were making me feel squeamish and seasick.  In the intervening decade, I’ve lost count of the number of people who have described it as one of their favourite books and who have expressed surprise at my lack of interest in reading it. Last week, curious about what all the fuss was about, I picked it up again, and this time around I thoroughly enjoyed the read.

Without giving up too many plot details, to read this novel is to realise that writing is a craft. It doesn’t make sense to moan and complain about not being a good writer if you wish to write, you have to be relentless in your practice. The author’s sentences are sturdy, his metaphors and similes are unusual, his pacing is wonderful, and he is all in all, a master writer and storyteller. (Days later while skyping with the Nephew, I tried to explain the story and the animals, and even my four year old friend was engrossed).

In addition to his skill with words, the book is powerful in its themes. In the main protagonist’s meditations on life he touches on belief, religion, saying goodbye and the compulsion to move (among other topics) and his insight in everything he addresses is keen. And meeting Piscine Molitor Patel, like meeting Dorothea Brooke or David Copperfield or Jane Eyre, changes you. He has gentleness with people who lack understanding, he is fiercely determined to survive, he longs for books, he cares for life,  he is unassuming. I feel I have much to learn from him, and this book was a reminder that great fiction impacts your personality,  your outlook on life,  your perspective on different issues and subjects, the traits you value in others, and the goals and dreams that you have.  This book was a reminder that novels matter because they touch us a way that non-fiction, important as it is, cannot.

Below, some of my favourite quotes from the book:

On Faith..

To choose doubt as a philosophy in life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation (28)

“What is your religion about?” I asked. His eyes lit up. “It is about the Beloved”,” he replied. I challenge anyone to understand Islam, its spirit, and not to love it. It is a beautiful religion of brotherhood and devotion.” ( p.60)

The presence of God is the finest of rewards.(p.63)

On Leaving..

“All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways. This madness can be saving; it is part and parcel of the ability to adapt. Without it, no species would survive. Whatever the reason for wanting to escape, sane or insane, zoo detractors, should understand that animals don’t escape to somewhere but from something. Something within their territory has frightened them – the intrusion of an enemy, the assault of a dominant animal, a startling noise – and set off a flight reaction.

“Why do people move? What makes them uproot and leave everything they’ve known for a great unknown beyond the horizon? Why climb this Mount Everest of formalities that makes you feel like a beggar? Why enter this jungle of foreignness where everything is new, strange and difficult? The answer is the same over: people move in the hope of a better life.” (p.77)

On Saying Goodbye..

What a terrible thing it is to botch a farewell. I am a person who believes in form, in the harmony of order. Where we can, we must give things a meaningful shape…It’s important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let it go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. (p.285)

The Main Battlefield of Good

There are always those who take it upon themselves to defend God, as if Ultimate Reality, as if the sustaining frame of existence, were something weak and helpless. These people walk by a widow deformed by leprosy begging for a few paise, walk by children dressed in rags living in the street, and they think, “Business as usual.” But if they perceive a slight against God, it is a different story. Their faces go red, their chests heave mightily, they sputter angry words. The degree of their indignation is astonishing. Their resolve is frightening.

These people fail to realize that it is on the inside that God must be defended, not on the outside. They should direct their anger at themselves. For evil in the open is but evil from within that has been let out. The main battlefield for good is not the open ground of the public arena but the small clearing of each heart. Meanwhile, the lot of widows and homeless children is very hard, and it is to their defence, not God’s that the self righteous should rush.

To me, religion is about our dignity, not our depravity.

~Yann Martel, Life of Pi, p.70-71.

Delving into the Life of Abdul Sattar Edhi

It started with watching the trailer for an upcoming documentary for a film called “These Birds Walk” about the work of the Edhi Foundation, Pakistan’s largest social welfare organisation.

These Birds Walk – Teaser from Omar & Bassam on Vimeo.

I had heard much about the work of the Edhi organisation before. I knew about the cradles across Pakistan for women to anonymously give their babies up instead of abandoning them, the burials through the organisation for people who wouldn’t receive a proper burial otherwise, and their care for the mentally ill in addition to their many other services. I’ve always had a strong respect of their work. And so when I learnt that a book existed about Edhi in his own words (as narrated by Tehmina Durrani) called Edhi: A Mirror to the Blind  I tried to find a copy so I could learn more. Today, after a long week reading the book in spare moments, I finally finished.

First, the not so positive parts of the book. Perhaps because it’s translated from Urdu it’s a choppy read, and the book drags and lengthens at parts unnecessarily. There are times when Edhi is talking about a certain event in very vague terms, and it is difficult to know what exactly he is referring to. The book uses big words when shorter words would perhaps be more suitable, and the book often feels like a long sermon.

Having said that, this is a worthwhile read because it is about an amazing individual and his journey to build an incredible organization. The book begins with the death of his four year old grandson Bilal who is burnt by a mentally ill patient in one of their centres, and goes back in time to start Edhi’s story from its beginning, with Edhi’s mother deep emphasis on charity for her children. From there the book spans decades – from Edhi’s early childhood to his first dispensary, to his marriage, the birth of his four children, the growth of his family and his organisation, and finally ends in the mid nineties.

Reading about Edhi and his wife’s simple 2-room apartment, his insistence of minimal personal expenditure, their use of every moment, their simple food (Edhi speaks about eating stale bread for decades) and little sleep (Edhi sleeps on a bench outside for a few hours nightly) is a powerful reminder that life is not meant to be a self-centered exercise. It’s not meant to be about collecting and broadcasting ‘neat experiences’, it’s about helping others, and being of use. It’s about privileging others needs over your own and not indulging in extravagance when so many others in the world/your own community are in desperate need. This book really drives home the point that charity is not a ‘good action’ you are doing, it is a component of being a dignified human being. Reading this book has been a reminder to strive to be a bit less selfish, a bit less concerned about the opinions of others, and a bit more conscious in how I use my money and time.

In no particular order, here are some of Edhi’s lessons I took away from the book and favourite quotes.

  1.  Religion is about more than praying in a room to God. Islam in particular is about social action, personal transformation, and alleviating the pain of others. If your religious practice is not benefiting anyone, than there is something deficient in what you are doing. Edhi heavily critiques being ritualistic about religion by frantically ‘chanting prayers’ daily and ignoring the needs of people at the same time.
  2. The way charity is given matters. Edhi speaks many times in the book that many people give charity seeking prestige and not because it is the right thing to do. They want to be thanked, and the presence of ego makes this an impoverished action.
  3. Because burial is a huge part of what the Edhi Foundation does, death is a major theme of the book. The imminence of death and how it should shape one’s life (Edhi asks why people pursue luxuries instead of helping the poor and oppressed) is something that people rarely think about, but should.
  4. “The human body needs rest according to the degree of perseverance it injects into commitments. Those who pursue nothing need the most rest. By this rule all people are inflicted with varying degrees of lethargy. I am convinced that the foremost evil is laziness, it is the source of all addiction, and gradually encompasses all forms of decadence. It kills your abilities so casually that you think yourself hale and hearty, whereas you have become an invalid.” (p.132)
  5. Love deepens when you work to build more than simply a life together. Edhi’s description of his wife Bilqees, and his honesty in describing both how much he loves her, is beautiful. In his own words, he cannot do the work he does without her, and her happy personality transforms his life. She is a tremendous person in her own right, and the story of their relationship is a lesson in how powerful the right partnership can be.
  6. The lessons from our families run deep. Edhi talks tenderly about his parents and in particular his mother, and also reflects on the good within his mother in law’s life.  Remembering them both he says, “We led our lives by the values set by our mothers. They touched our souls and all we have to do and will do.” (360)

The People That Deepen Your Spirit

Yesterday, after realizing that it had been a couple of months since I left Toronto and a bit longer since I had had a proper heart to heart with the Nephew, we skyped. I was a bit skeptical that it would work, but to my great surprise, the two of us talked nonstop for an hour about everything from summer camp, to trains, to the magic of Lego, to cool museums and the history of dinosaurs. What was off limits was news about other people, and any attempt to inquire about the other kids at camp or his friends was met with the response “Oh I don’t want to talk about thaaaat” and the Nephew pulling out a book to teach me something. At one point he pulled out an encyclopedia of his bookshelf and showed me nearly every page, stopping every so often to explain things or to look up from his book with shining eyes and exclaim “Oh I  didn’t know this book was so amazing!”

And as I concentrated on not laughing at his earnest, solemn face, I kept thinking that a) its crazy how technology can help bridge the distance of miles. We were in two separate rooms separated by nearly 5000 km, and yet we were able to play games, read stories and reach out for things like Charlie did exploring his factory for the first time. In a way that was previously solely the subject of fantasy novels, technology is creating different ways of existing and relating to the world.

The other thing I was thinking about though, was that is not simply curious, book-loving children that I enjoy spending time with, it’s everyone who possesses those qualities. But in Vancouver, the results of a recent Vancouver Foundation study of close to four thousand Metro Vancouver residents about the biggest issue in the region revealed that it is not transit or housing that is most pressing in people’s minds, it is the challenge of connecting with other people in the city. The study sparked the creation of the SFU Public Square, and multiple local media articles (including a five part series in the Vancouver Sun) speculating on the reason for Vancouverites loneliness.

It is a slightly scary message to hear when you’re new, and so a couple of weeks ago while at a Vancouver Creative Mornings breakfast, I discussed the study with the people in seats nearby. The woman beside me questioned whether the findings of the study were identifying a trend that is specific to Vancouver, or (as this New York Times article suggests) this is simply the nature of adulthood. As I sipped my coffee and listened to her experiences moving to the city, I thought about the question. “Was it easier to make friends in Toronto?” I wondered. Did I feel more socially engaged?

I’m not sure of the answer. In both cities I’ve been lucky. When I moved to Toronto I remember feeling overwhelmed that I was a new person to every single person I met, and that each friendship was only days old. I missed friends who had known me for years, and I missed our book chats. And then to my great surprise and delight, not only did many of those conversations continue, but Toronto became a place of the same sort of friendships. I was blessed with friends in graduate school, residence and the wider community who embodied one of my favourite poems Khalil Gibran’s “On Friendship” (below). Because I was on my own and graduate school was so intense, those friendships became deeply important to me.

In both stages though, I’ve been in school. Recently I was catching up with an old friend and describing my first month back in Vancouver, and my nervousness over starting a new job and pursuing new challenges and goals, and my friend pointed out that the post graduation phase is different from preceding stages. It is harder to meet likeminded individuals, to meet kindred spirits. Reflecting on that idea hours afterwards, it made sense. In university, (and in your early twenties in general) days and nights are filled with long conversations about the type of person you want to be and the contributions you want to make, because you are in development. Afterwards you are still in development,  but perhaps after graduation such conversations, and others to have such conversations with, become harder to find.

I’m curious to hear from others. Outside of school, how have you met friends that deepen your spirit as Khalil Gibran would say? The answer might be interesting in a city that is grappling with the question of social connection.

On Friendship

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the “nay” in your own mind, nor do you withhold the “ay.”
And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

Celebrating Four Years as an Aunt

Being an aunt is something that is very close to my heart, and though we’re in different provinces at present, I’m celebrating the birthday of my nephew today. Sharing stories over pancake and berries breakfasts, whispering at 4 am during weekend sleepovers, drawing pictures and reading books together, and just generally witnessing a child develop from an infant into someone with speech, opinions, and a definite personality is a fascinating and blessed process. (At the end of this post is a list I wrote for terry.ubc.ca when my nephew turned one of the lessons I’ve learnt during his first year. The lessons are still true, so I’ve reposted them here)

He isn’t alone on the fantastic child list though. During my trip to Singapore last month, I kept running into wonderful kids who inspired me with their curiosity and intellect. I passed by a travel store one day with a giant globe at its entrance, and two siblings who were probably 9 and 11 years old were quizzing each other of their knowledge of tiny countries, and trying to map out flight routes. They were struggling to find a few countries, and we struck up a conversation. The next day I was on the MRT and a mum and her son of about ten years of age were talking about Google, what a googol is, and how that relates to what the search engine intended to do at the outset of its creation.

It reminded me of other kids I’ve met from time to time who have qualities that I wished schools and cities cultivated within all young people: voracious reading, tremendous curiosity, and an ability to figure out answers to questions that puzzle them.  Imagine what communities would look like if we planned them (and budgeting priorities) with the learning needs and experiences of the youngest members of cities in mind. Then imagine where you live at present. Though some places are better than others, there is still so so much that we need to do.

Life Lessons From A One Year Old 

1) Disappointments are to be experienced intensely, mourned briefly, and then forgotten. Failure should not hinder one from trying and trying again.

2) People are fascinating. Seek them out. Be unafraid to start conversations. To smile. To wave hello to your neighbours. Make a habit of constantly expressing your delight that you are in the company of others, and the recipient of their attention.

3) Relish solitude. You need time every day to wander, to think, to explore and simply figure things out. To try new things. Protest fiercely when others encroach on this time.

4) Make amends quickly. When you keep others up at night or leave them exhausted during the day, make sure you make up for it with a contrite smile and a heart softening cuddle.  Have a sunshiny disposition that makes it impossible to remain irritated with you.

5) The world is your playground, discover it actively. In every situation, there are things to be explored and learnt, touched and tasted. Have a healthy sense of curiosity about your surroundings. Be a scientist in the world. Experiment, challenge, test, test again, revise your assumptions, store that knowledge away, and repeat this process continuously.

6) Be heard.  If you have an opinion, share it. If you aren’t understood at first, persist until you’ve conveyed your point of view. Learn new languages to speak to ever widening circles of people.

7) Seek support and comfort from those around you. When you fall and stumble, touch base to feel better, and then return to your adventure-seeking, knowledge-desiring, happy state.

8 Embrace your inner artist. Express yourself, and don’t let limitations of ability and skill deter you from enjoying colours and textures and different art forms.

9) Savour tastes and smells and textures.  Enjoy each morsel. Chew slowly. Explore new foods. Try what others are having. Chase after new experiences.

10) Wake up completely thrilled about the day ahead. Stand up, laugh, and become excited and energised about the big adventures that await you. Nap when needed.

11) Touch the world, and be in touch with nature.  Splash in water. Watch birds. Stop and say hello to puppies. Jump on grass. Stare at trees. Be conscious of the fact that the world is awesome, and spend some time every day marveling at its wonders. Don’t let a day go by without some time outdoors.

12) Don’t hold grudges. When someone trips over you, or makes a mistake, have a good cry, but don’t let bad experiences or moments impact your trust of others as a whole.

13) Laugh heartily. Laugh often.

14) Seek new goals constantly. Be hungry to learn and grow and develop. Be persistent. Spend lots of time with others who are more skilled than you-it creates an environment where you are naturally constantly trying to stretch and increase your abilities.

15) Assert your independence. Don’t let others do things for you too often. Push people away who prevent you from learning.

16) When you make a mess, clean it up.

17) Dance when music plays. In fact, make time for movement every day.  After spending any length of time being stationary, or eating large amounts of food, race around, climb things, and revel in your ability to move and reach and run and stand.

And lastly…be confident.  Babies have personalities. They come into the world with their own idiosyncrasies and habits and little quirks, and when you hear mothers talk about their children, they speak about the things that he/she likes and doesn’t like, prefers and doesn’t prefer, and what their habits tend to be. And yet, a year earlier, the little person didn’t exist. Obviously I’m not the first writer to reflect on the miracle of birth, but it is something to keep in mind as we strive for things and get discouraged and get disappointed at times: that perhaps the simple fact we exist, that we come into the world with such a definite sense of self, means that one must chase and seek and find meaning. We are too astonishing to not seize the day, to not make what we can of our lives and experiences, and to not reach out to others and create social change.

Awesome Event Alert! Digital Storytelling, Adequate Housing, Hong Kong in Lego and Indonesian Culture

It’s been two weeks since I’ve returned to Vancouver, and I’m still getting reacquainted with the city. There are parts of the city that are so familiar, certain intersections where I caught a bus for years, much-loved coffee shops that haven’t changed, libraries that have the same quirky librarians, streets that feel like home, and yet there is so so much that is new. There are new buildings, new bus routes, new projects, and details to the city that were not here when Vancouver was last home. Discovering the city again is a strange but exciting adventure, and part of that process involves doing what I do anytime I’m in a new place. It involves finding and attending lectures and events that make my heart sing. Below are a few lectures and exhibits that I’m excited to attend over the next few weeks.

1) Digital Storytelling Unconference. July 7th from 9:30-4:30 at the Network Hub

This is an unconference (meaning that the participants suggest content and present it the day of the event) about digital storytelling. Not only is the subject matter fascinating, but it’s at the Network Hub, an office sharing space I’m interested to learn more about. One of my favourite spots in Toronto was the Centre for Social Innovation, and I’m curious to know if the Network Hub is a similar sort of space. Early bird sales tickets are over, and regular tickets are now $25.  Volunteer opportunities are also available at the event.

2) The Right to Adequate Housing: From Practice to Policy to Practice – A Talk by Miloon Kothari. July 9th, 7PM, Goldcorp Centre for the Arts. ($10)

 If you’re interested in issues related to the Global South, housing, and are a fan of Miloon Kothari, this seems like it will be an amazing, educational evening. As a side note, SFU has so many interesting events going on right now! When I was doing my undergrad, you had to go all the way to UBC for amazing public lectures, but I’m happy to see all the wonderful things going on through SFU at present. All three SFU campuses are transit friendly, and that makes it easier to attend events even when you have a bit of a commute.

3) Adab: Expressions of Indonesian Culture– Tuesday, July 17, 7pm, Simon Fraser University

To celebrate 60 years of the Canadian-Indonesian diplomatic relationship, the SFU Centre for the Comparative Study of Muslim Societies and Culture and the Consulate General of the Republic of Indonesia in Vancouver are doing a special lecture featuring a keynote lecture by Azyumardi Azra and a performance by a gamelan orchestra. I’m excited to attend and to look up the books that the keynote speaker has written, because they seem to address the subject of how Islam is expressed in Indonesia. After traveling to Bandung this summer, I’m thirsty to learn more about this topic.

Exhibitions

1) Raqs Media Collective: The Primary Education of the Autodidact (Audain Gallery – 149 W Hastings St, Goldcorp Centre for the Arts, SFU)

This is a window exhibit on display till Sept 4th 2012 as part of the Indian Summer Festival. It’s free, and meant to explore the idea of “the university as a site of knowledge production.”

2) In My Life, Pearl of the Orient – Hong Kong.

On display at the Aberdeen Mall, this is an exhibit that seeks to create a version of the Hong Kong Victoria Harbour Skyline. I am a bit in love with Hong Kong’s skyline, and  this sounds like an incredible project. There is a house from the sixties that you can visit, street food stalls, and the whole thing is constructed by one of thirteen Lego Professionals in the world. Something to definitely check out before it leaves Aberdeen Mall on Sept 3rd.

The Privilege of Travelling

When I was away in Bandung I kept thinking of the essay “The Ugly Tourist” by Jamaica Kincaid. I just found my copy while unpacking books, and though the entire essay is well worth a read (it’s about 2 and a half pages), the last paragraph (below) is an important reminder about travelling and visiting places, and a critical check on intentions. (That essay and Alain de Botton’s book “The Art of Travel) should be mandatory reading).

That the native does not like the tourist is not hard to explain. For every native of every place is a potential tourist, and every tourist is a native of somewhere. Every native everywhere lives a life of overwhelming and crushing banality and boredom and desperation and depression, and every deed, good and bad, is an attempt to forget this. Every native would like to find a way out, every native would like a rest, every native would like a tour. But some natives–most natives in the world–cannot go anywhere. They are too poor. They are too poor to go anywhere. They are too poor to escape the reality of their lives; and they are too poor to live properly in the place where they live, which is the very place you, the tourist, want to go–so when the natives see you, the tourist, they envy you, they envy your ability to leave your own banality and boredom, they envy your ability to turn their own banality and boredom into a source of pleasure for yourself.

~Jamaica Kincaid, The Ugly Tourist, The Norton Reader, Tenth Edition.