Preconceived Notions

"The problem was not the ignorance, it was the preconceived notions."

 I've been disappointed with people's reactions to my upcoming trip to South Africa. "What will you eat?" "Where will you live?" "Do you need to get shots?" "Be careful." These responses aren't entirely unwarranted but I think they reflect an incorrect assumption about the world today. Africa, we've been taught, is a place where people are poor, hungry, and sick. Africans live in shacks and fight in civil wars. While this description may be accurate for many parts of Africa, it is not representative for all of it. Africa is not one big country. It is made up of many nations, large and small, rich and poor, war-torn and peaceful. South Africa has had a tumultuous history; I have heard that racism and homophobia are still rampant and that poverty is common. However, it is also a member of the G-20 and a founding member of the United Nations. It ranks 25th in the world for GDP.

South Africa is also the most progressive country in Africa and perhaps in the world. In 2005, the Supreme Court of South Africa declared it unconstitutional to deny gay people the right to marry. In 2006, "South Africa became the fifth country, the first in Africa, the second outside Europe, and the first republic to legalize same-sex marriage."*

Hans Rosling, a stastician and doctor has given a few TED presentations about poverty and development in the world. He says that the idea that there still exists a dichotomy between what he calls "We" and "them" or the Western world and the third world "a stupid concept of developing countries." He has some fascinating data (shown in pretty graphics) here: http://www.ted.com/talks/hans_rosling_shows_the_best_stats_you_ve_ever_seen.html 



He presents a follow-up here: http://www.ted.com/talks/hans_rosling_reveals_new_insights_on_poverty.html




*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Same-sex_marriage_in_South_Africa

Employed

Yup, I did it, I went and got a job. Sure, it's just for the summer and technically a "research grant" isn't the same thing as getting paid, but I'm super excited nonetheless. I will be a fellow* in the International Human Rights Program at my school. They are sending me to the University of Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, South Africa for the summer to do research. What will I be researching? When do I start? How will I get there? Trivialities!**

I don't know a whole lot about Jo-burg, but I do know that it is winter there. Am I disappointed? Sure, but at least I know that nothing could be worse than winter in Chicago.

*Lady fellow? Fella? Fellowette?
**I have no clue yet.

Fooooodings

I haven't blogged in a while and in an effort to think of something to write about my mind was naturally drawn to food. One thing Chicago has in abundance is good food and I have been fortunate enough to experience some of it. Here are some of the places my taste buds and I have visited:

BIG and little's: Cajun-style fast food. They apparently have the best soft shell crab po' boys in the city, and although I can't attest to this (I had the shrimp po' bo), I can say that the truffle fries were delicious. I think the city's devotion to deliciousness can be summed up by one review on Yelp for this place: "Best truffle fries in the city." That's right, there are enough restaurants in Chicago serving truffle fries that one of them can be dubbed "the best."

Seoul Corea: Korean food. I have to say, for Korean in Hyde Park, this place is pretty darn good. Nothing can compare to my beloved Food Box, the local Korean fast-food place near my apartment in PyeongChon, but this comes close. They do a great ojingo-dap-bap, or sauteed squid in spicy sauce, my favorite Korean dish. The couple who own it and the pictures of Seoul lining the walls add to the ambiance and make me yearn for my former home.

Chicago deep dish: I've tried a few places and while I haven't yet been to Uno's, a Chicago original, I must say that the pizza is quite delicious. Personally, I prefer thin crust to deep dish, but that doesn't stop me from eating the cheesy, greasy, crusty goodness that is Chicago-style pizza from time to time.

The University of Chicago Booth School of Business Cafeteria: Variety. This may sound crazy (and might be in part due to Hyde Park's lack of quality food), but the B-school has some pretty darn good cafeteria food. I know it's definitely not the ordinary dining commons food I had as an undergrad and it definitely kicks the butt of the Law School's cafeteria. They have a rotating menu that usually includes pizza/calzone, Mexican or Asian, fish, made-to-order burgers, paninis*, sandwiches, and a rocking salad bar. It is pretty expensive (I don't usually leave spending less than $10) but the poblano chile burritos and toasted panini** are delicious and if you spend more than $6 you get a free dollop of frozen yogurt.

*I know the plural is "panini" but I didn't want to sound pretentious so I included the optional "s." Although now that I've explained it, I still feel a little pretentious.
**In case you prefer it this way.

the little things

Life as a law student sorta sucks. How could anyone dislike the warm and friendly atmosphere, light workload, sunny Chicago days, and brilliant, yet modest classmates (and not to mention the great price)? I don't know. Let's just say that I do. Sure, the mimosas-for-memos program helps, but cheap alcohol and free coffee just isn't it cutting it anymore. After 6 months of being in a constant cycle of caffeinated alertness and intoxicated semi-consciousness, patience has begun to dissipate. It takes a lot to get this disgruntled 23-year-old with mild carpal tunnel to smile these days.

So when I grinned widely and even gave a gentle applause in my morning criminal law class, I knew it was going to be a good day. It might have been because, for the first time in a long time, I got more than 3 hours of sleep. Indeed, it was probably that. But another reason had to do with the law school musical and a couple of awesome professors.

Every year, the law students put on a musical. I was not in it for obvious reasons, but my friend, B, was and gave me the inside scoop on the goings-on behind the curtain. Apparently, it's written each year by 2Ls and 3Ls, but anyone can be in it and I think many of the major parts went to 1Ls. The script is very clever and involved law-related spoofs of Bad Romance by Lady Gaga (Bad Students), Bohemian Rhapsody, and other songs. The bulk of the play went toward making fun of professors and deans. Two of the professors at our school, McAdams, my criminal law professor, and Ginsburg, an international law professor, are perhaps the only two professors who are difficult to make fun of. Unlike most of the faculty, they have no visible neuroses, they seem perfectly comfortable standing in front of large classes, and I've heard that they even have law experience (imagine that!) The musical decided to poke fun at their lack of defining characteristics by pointing out that they looked similar and were just normal guys. In the musical, they switched classes and their students didn't notice. (Ginsburg has a goatee which he 'took off' and handed to McAdams.)

It was a mildly funny joke, but sort of forgettable compared to the rest of the musical, so when my classmates and I were sitting in criminal law awaiting Professor McAdams, none of us had any idea what we were in store for. Over the weekend, Professor Ginsburg shaved his goatee and when he stepped in to teach the class, it took everyone a few minutes to realize he wasn't our professor. He even called on a student, acting as if everything were normal. After the student struggled to answer the question over justifiable puzzlement, Ginsburg said, "And how does that relate to international law?" It was pretty good and McAdams arrived a few minutes later.

 All right, back to work.

Story of the Week

D and P sat outside of a cafe eating stale bread and drinking tea. The waiter was nowhere to be seen.
"D," said P, "you and I agree on a lot of things." D knew this meant P was about to disagree with him about something. "But I cannot agree that they are right for us right now." D sipped his tea and looked inside the cafe, where a few patrons sat at wooden tables, cracked and rotting.  Broken table legs and chairs were propped up against the windows like weapons. They waited there patiently in case they needed to be used as such again.

"I don't think they are the best," said D, slowly. "But I think right now they're the best we've got."

"We should not rush into this or we'll just have again what we've always had," responded P quickly, as if he already knew what D would say. "No. Now is the time to restart." He thrust his index finger down on the table and it wobbled dumbly, appearing to nod in agreement. "We must do this right." D looked down at his bread and peeled off the parts that were too tough to eat. His stomach grumbled angrily, perhaps wondering how he could possibly waste food when he had barely eaten for days.

"Maybe you are right," D whispered. He was feeling very tired and hadn't the energy for an argument. One week ago, he would have stood and spoken passionately about the need for compromise. About the need for radical change. Now instead, he felt at his arm, and peeled back the bandage. It was not healing well. Instead of seeking treatment for the cut, he'd gone on fighting. Two days after sustaining the wound, it had been crudely bandaged without a thorough cleaning. Now it was infected. D felt ambivalence about it. It no longer hurt, at least not in comparison to his head and his stomach. "P, what is the next step?"

"If they get their way, sham meetings followed by sham elections followed by another sham government."

"I don't believe the elections will be a sham. People will vote for them...because they'll be the only ones on the ballot," said D sarcastically. P smirked and shook his head. Five teenage boys walked by, laughing and telling jokes. Their bodies were covered in bandages. One boy was still bleeding from his head. It was a calm day, but D did not feel calm inside. He felt more anxiety now than he'd felt in the last week. The violence had quelled and now it was time to see if it had all been worth it.

It's been a week

Last Thursday I said I'd write one short story per week until mid-February. So it's been a week and I didn't really write anything, so I thought I'd show you what I do when I can't think of anything to write. It's sort of a post-modernist meta-story...yeah, that's what it is.

Enjoy!

SD* trudged through the snow because she liked the way it felt under her boots. It felt like sand. She also liked the sound it made. Crunch. She walked through the snow even though the sidewalks were clear. Stomping parallel to everyone else, sometimes she saw them glance at her briefly before passing. She took her time because she had nowhere to go.

No, maybe I'll go farther away. I want to go somewhere else, somewhere where it is calm all around, where stimuli are hard to come by. A garden with a lake, where I can describe things**.

Maybe SD is trudging but there are none to see her trudge. She is alone in a garden in a city. That city could be Tokyo. Maybe there are cats. Where do they go in the winter?

When SD first came to this park, it was covered in cats. The cat were not doing anything special. Cats lounge very well***. It was a warm day and the cat lay in the shelter of shade. She joined them and they gave her little more than a stare and a whisker spasm.

What if I wrote about Timbuktu. A woman who used to have a bustling life in Timbuktu****.



Now I shall distract you with pictures of snow.

*The vast majority of the time I spent writing this "story" went to deciding the main character's initials. I thought about "MD" but those are the initials of a doctor. "MS" is a debilitating disease and a master of science degree. "PS" means post script...
**Note that I wrote this and then went on to talk about cats. 
***Indeed.
****Maybe I have ADD?

Da Blues

I don't know if it's the lack of sunshine, the overwhelming amount of work, my so-far unsuccessful summer job hunt, being in the Midwest, or what but I've been feeling a little down in the dumpster lately (it probably helps that my apartment faces a dumpster). In the past, three things have helped me get out of funks: food*, new music, and writing. Food is hard to come by here in the wilderness of south Hyde Park, but I bought some ice cream yesterday so I'm hoping that helps. I'm also in the process of buying new music and welcome suggestions**.

This brings me to writing. I certainly can't say I miss writing, but all the writing I do these days is analytical and I feel like I'm neglecting one side of my brain. In fact, I think all three of my funk-evading solutions are creative pursuits. So I've decided to add one more thing to infinite list of to-dos for the remaining month of January and for at least part of February. I'm going to try to produce one short story per week. I'm not setting a length requirement, but each new story must have a story arc and at least one good*** character. I'm not setting a requirement for "good" either.

I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to accomplish this ridiculous goal, but I'm already feeling a little uplifted at its prospect. This is one endeavor that won't be graded on a curve.


*I'm including beverages in this category.
**Uplifting music preferable. 
***Good in the sense of realism, not morality.