Looking up?
Remember when you were a little kid, how fun it was to look up into a snowy sky--how you felt like you were traveling into space at 'warp-speed' while the white flakes ('stars') flew past you?
Too bad it's not fun to do that when it's raining...
(This November has been the rainiest month on record here--over 15 inches of rain. Despite its precipitous reputation, Seattle actually only averages about 5 inches of rain in a 'normal' November...)
So, if you'd been a sky-gawking turkey up here recently, you'd have died.
At least, that's what I've heard. Perhaps it's an urban-farm-myth--that turkeys are so dumb that they can drown in a mere shower because they don't know that they should stop looking up at the rain...
One of my wife's coworkers said that when raising poultry on a small farm, it's better to raise turkeys and chickens together, since the little birds help out their bigger, duller, cousins...
Who knew? (Incidetnally, I LOVE the clay-mation film "Chicken Run"...)
All those turkeys...the tens of millions of turkeys that graced American's tables these past couple of days...Here's an agro-factoid for you:
to breed turkeys that have the desired quantity of 'white meat,' the farming industry has now ended up with birds that have been genetically 'modified' to have such heavy breasts that they can't even stand upright anymore. There's some gravy for your plate, eh? (I'm not a militant vegan or anything, just so you know...)
And, ah yes, the yearly joy of 'black Friday' as people gleefully begin the Holiday-shopping-season. (It's all about consumption--cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and Best-buy...)
Reports from around the country show fights breaking out and police having to intervene.
Ah yes, the 'holiday spirit.'
Here in Seattle, there's a sort of passive-aggressive 'civility' that manifests itself especially this time of year in parking lots, at four-way stops, and in grocery-store aisles.
For example, you're shopping for produce. Watch the gore-tex-vest-clad lady over there, as her path to the parsley is blocked by another shopper's cart. Instead of calling out 'excuse me' or simply pushing past, Ms. gore-tex just stands there, face all a-crinkled with indignation, waiting for the 'violator' to finish squeezing the flavorless tomatoes and to get out of the way. A minute passes and the indignation climbs, but still, oh no, we're not going to be 'rude,' we'll just wait. Finally tomato-squeezer finishes and moves on, and Gore-tex-zilla, whose face is now red with eyes rolled way up, huffs past the still-unwitting 'violator' who ambles to the free-coffee-sample table...
Speak up people, just speak up--a little 'excuse me' won't kill the joy...And oh, when you get to a four-way stop and you have the right-of-way--just GO! This 'no, YOU go--no, really, YOU GO'-business just holds up traffic. It's not polite. It's stupid.
I wish I had come up with this phrase, but I didn't--'scando-japanese reserve.' Perhaps that's what keeps people from calling out 'excuse me' up here...False, cool, civility does not civilization make.
And now, a lengthy music-nerd joke, which was forwarded to me:
A C, an E-flat, and a G go into a bar. The bartender says, "Sorry, we don't serve minors." So the E-flat leaves, and the C and the G have an open fifth between them.
After a few drinks, the fifth is diminished, and the G is out flat. An F comes in and tries to augment the situation, but is not sharp enough; A D comes into the bar and heads straight for the bathroom saying, "Excuse me, I'll just be a second."
Then an A comes into the bar, but the bartender is convinced that this relative of C is a minor. Then the bartender notices a B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and exclaims, "Get out now! You're the seventh minor I've found in this bar tonight!"
The E-flat, not easily deflated, comes back to the bar the next night in a 3-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender (who used to have a nice corporate job until his company downsized), says, "You're looking sharp tonight; come on in--this could be a major development!"
This proves to be the case, as the E-flat takes off the suit, and everything else, and stands there au natural.
Eventually, the C sobers up, and realizes in horror that he's under a rest. The C is brought to trial, found guilty of contributing to the diminution of a minor, and is sentenced to 10 years of DS without Coda at an upscale correctional facility.
On appeal, however, the C is found innocent of any wrongdoing, even accidental, and that all accusations to the contrary are bass-less. The bartender decides, however, that since he's only had tenor so patrons, and the soprano out in the bathroom, everything has become alto much treble; he needs a rest, and closes the bar.
Ba-dum-chhhhh...
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Red and black make...pink?
A blog with "Nicaragua" in the title can't not mention the recent election down there...
So here are my dos centavos...
Most of you have surely heard at least a little bit in the news about how Daniel Ortega, the Sandinista politician who was leader of Nicaragua back in the '80's, has just been elected president again, almost twenty years later...
"Tio" Sam is not too pleased...
The majority of Nicaraguans who are now of voting age are too young to remember the Sandinista-revolution of the late 70's and early 80's, and then the civil war that raged through a good part of the 80's...(and it's surprising how many Americans don't know what 'Iran-Contra' means--the illegal underground arms-deals of twenty years ago in which the U.S. illegally sold weapons to Iran (!) in order to arm the Contra rebels fighting the Sandinista government.)
Nicaraguans have been desperate for change for decades. The Somoza dictatorship (which ruled for much of the 20th century) didn't help the poor...The Sandinista's experiment in socialism didn't offer lasting help...and the supposedly more open democratic-capitalistic governments of the last couple of decades haven't helped...Most Nicaraguans today live on less than 2$ a day. It is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti.
The fact that Ortega could be re-elected after almost two decades out of power, after a bloody civil war and an international blockade that crippled the country--this is all sad testimony to the desperation of ordinary Nicaraguans, who just want something to get done! (It's a pathetic echo of the recent elections in another Latin American country--Peru--in which a former president, also from nearly two decades ago, was elected, despite the fact that his previous administration ended up dragging the country into economic chaos...people are desperately choosing known-but-hopefully-lesser-evils in their elections...and this is the 'best' hope of human government?!)
Now, to get to the reason for the 'colorful' title of this blog:
During the revolutionary years, red and black were the colors of the Sandinista party...
Those years ended up being bloody years. There were promising social improvements at first--within a few years the illiteracy rate in Nicaragua plummeted from almost half of the population to around 10%.! (Alas, it has since climbed upward....) Medical care was free! ...Dignified housing was provided for the poor!..
...and then, at least according to the 'official' story, 'foreign imperialistic intervention', a.k.a. the Reagan administration in Gringolandia, got in the way...tens of thousands of Nicarguans died in the bloody war, blockades made the economy collapse, and it's only recently that most land-mines have been removed from the northern parts of the country.
Red and black became associated with the years of bloodshed and hardship...
So, in more recent years, Ortega decided to have a color make-over:
instead of red and black, PINK would be the new official Sandinista color--soften the image, woo the young...this street-scene from León shows one of the campaign signs.
However, the sign (which says 'love is stronger than hate') is NOT from this year's campaign...it's from years ago, the last time Ortega ran for president...and lost. He was voted out of office originally in 1990, and ever since has endeavored to re-take the 'throne', losing every time...I guess persistence paid off...
Last year, with his party in control of the Nicaraguan legislature, constitutional amendments were put through to make it possible for someone to become president of the country with only 35% of the vote! Incredible, no? ( And people in this country are still in a tizzy over the fact that the current president became president with just under 50 percent...) Since Nicaragua has many parties, in the presidential election there were several candidates...Normally, the top two vote-getters would end up in a run-off...Well, the constitutional amendment made it possible for the top candidate to automatically 'win' without having to go through the run-off procedure if he got at least 35% AND was at least 5% ahead of the nearest opponent...
And that's what happened.
The weeks and months ahead should be interesting, to say the least.
Many Nicaraguans are afraid the U.S. will again try to interfere, perhaps blockading the country economically...The fact that Ortega is a buen amigo of Venezuela's Hugo Chavez doesn't help...
Surprisingly, though--despite the years of foreign intervention in Nicaragua by the U.S., most people there are very friendly to American visitors and residents. (Thousands of Yankee ex-pats now live in the old city of Granada--buying up the old colonial real estate and pricing out the locals, and in the surfing-paradise of San-Juan-del-Sur...)
The revolutionary murals in the city of León are fascinating relic of the past but in no way depict any persistent menace towards Gringo-turistas. For example, the painting surrounding the doorway below:
You can see revolutionary figures triumphantly 'stomping' dictatorship on the left (in the figure of a dog-like Somoza) and imperialist Uncle Sam on the right (depicted as a puppy--perhaps Somoza's lap-dog). The 80's were wild times in Nicaragua...
One can only hope, for the sake of common Nicas, that the first decade of the 21st century will continue to be 'mild' in commparison...
Do societies ever learn from the past?
Or does a change in color-scheme just 'paint things over?'
To conclude, a complete and banal change of subject:
at the end of the last entry, I'd tried to upload a photo from last week's stretch of cold clear weather--the view from our "Sunset view" balcony of a foggy morning...here it is:
(who knew that Renton could seem so scenic? Amazing what a bit of fog can do...)
A blog with "Nicaragua" in the title can't not mention the recent election down there...
So here are my dos centavos...
Most of you have surely heard at least a little bit in the news about how Daniel Ortega, the Sandinista politician who was leader of Nicaragua back in the '80's, has just been elected president again, almost twenty years later...
"Tio" Sam is not too pleased...
The majority of Nicaraguans who are now of voting age are too young to remember the Sandinista-revolution of the late 70's and early 80's, and then the civil war that raged through a good part of the 80's...(and it's surprising how many Americans don't know what 'Iran-Contra' means--the illegal underground arms-deals of twenty years ago in which the U.S. illegally sold weapons to Iran (!) in order to arm the Contra rebels fighting the Sandinista government.)
Nicaraguans have been desperate for change for decades. The Somoza dictatorship (which ruled for much of the 20th century) didn't help the poor...The Sandinista's experiment in socialism didn't offer lasting help...and the supposedly more open democratic-capitalistic governments of the last couple of decades haven't helped...Most Nicaraguans today live on less than 2$ a day. It is the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti.
The fact that Ortega could be re-elected after almost two decades out of power, after a bloody civil war and an international blockade that crippled the country--this is all sad testimony to the desperation of ordinary Nicaraguans, who just want something to get done! (It's a pathetic echo of the recent elections in another Latin American country--Peru--in which a former president, also from nearly two decades ago, was elected, despite the fact that his previous administration ended up dragging the country into economic chaos...people are desperately choosing known-but-hopefully-lesser-evils in their elections...and this is the 'best' hope of human government?!)
Now, to get to the reason for the 'colorful' title of this blog:
During the revolutionary years, red and black were the colors of the Sandinista party...
Those years ended up being bloody years. There were promising social improvements at first--within a few years the illiteracy rate in Nicaragua plummeted from almost half of the population to around 10%.! (Alas, it has since climbed upward....) Medical care was free! ...Dignified housing was provided for the poor!..
...and then, at least according to the 'official' story, 'foreign imperialistic intervention', a.k.a. the Reagan administration in Gringolandia, got in the way...tens of thousands of Nicarguans died in the bloody war, blockades made the economy collapse, and it's only recently that most land-mines have been removed from the northern parts of the country.
Red and black became associated with the years of bloodshed and hardship...
So, in more recent years, Ortega decided to have a color make-over:
instead of red and black, PINK would be the new official Sandinista color--soften the image, woo the young...this street-scene from León shows one of the campaign signs.
However, the sign (which says 'love is stronger than hate') is NOT from this year's campaign...it's from years ago, the last time Ortega ran for president...and lost. He was voted out of office originally in 1990, and ever since has endeavored to re-take the 'throne', losing every time...I guess persistence paid off...Last year, with his party in control of the Nicaraguan legislature, constitutional amendments were put through to make it possible for someone to become president of the country with only 35% of the vote! Incredible, no? ( And people in this country are still in a tizzy over the fact that the current president became president with just under 50 percent...) Since Nicaragua has many parties, in the presidential election there were several candidates...Normally, the top two vote-getters would end up in a run-off...Well, the constitutional amendment made it possible for the top candidate to automatically 'win' without having to go through the run-off procedure if he got at least 35% AND was at least 5% ahead of the nearest opponent...
And that's what happened.
The weeks and months ahead should be interesting, to say the least.
Many Nicaraguans are afraid the U.S. will again try to interfere, perhaps blockading the country economically...The fact that Ortega is a buen amigo of Venezuela's Hugo Chavez doesn't help...
Surprisingly, though--despite the years of foreign intervention in Nicaragua by the U.S., most people there are very friendly to American visitors and residents. (Thousands of Yankee ex-pats now live in the old city of Granada--buying up the old colonial real estate and pricing out the locals, and in the surfing-paradise of San-Juan-del-Sur...)
The revolutionary murals in the city of León are fascinating relic of the past but in no way depict any persistent menace towards Gringo-turistas. For example, the painting surrounding the doorway below:
You can see revolutionary figures triumphantly 'stomping' dictatorship on the left (in the figure of a dog-like Somoza) and imperialist Uncle Sam on the right (depicted as a puppy--perhaps Somoza's lap-dog). The 80's were wild times in Nicaragua...
One can only hope, for the sake of common Nicas, that the first decade of the 21st century will continue to be 'mild' in commparison...
Do societies ever learn from the past?
Or does a change in color-scheme just 'paint things over?'
To conclude, a complete and banal change of subject:
at the end of the last entry, I'd tried to upload a photo from last week's stretch of cold clear weather--the view from our "Sunset view" balcony of a foggy morning...here it is:
(who knew that Renton could seem so scenic? Amazing what a bit of fog can do...)
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
What's in a real estate name?
...already mid-week in mid-autumn...
I've been meaning to write this since Sunday;
every weekend I enjoy testing my absurd-o-meter
by perusing the real estate section in the newspaper.
The names of new condo-complexes and subdivisions are so often scratch-your-head-worthy. The classic example is perhaps the use of 'estate' in any name--apartments and tract-housing are hardly 'estates,' eh?
Some names are merely slightly annoying.
"Brix" for example...I guess "Bricks" was too mundane, and "Brickes" would be too much in the vein of 'ye-olde' corniness...At least the building in question actually has an 'old-world' facade of red baked blocks of clay...
Urban overpriced buildings need to use creative spelling to stand out from its neighbors...
...such as "Bolero"...I guess that building can just dance away from its more mundane peers...
"Verge" caught my eye. On the verge of what? trendiness? the burst of the real-estate bubble? Or maybe you will have one of those "almost!-views" touted in ads--lean out far beyond the railing of your postage-stamp balconette and you'll get a hint of the sun setting behind the other building behind the cranes...on the verge of a view...
I saw a townhome complex a while back--"Lendemain." Ahh...the use of French to 'upgrade' a locale..."Lendemain" simply means "the next day." I wonder if in the suburbs of Paris there is a "Tomorrow" being built...
And while we're speaking French, why not mention "Châteaus." That's right--'chateau' with an 's' on the end. Ack! If you're gonna try something in French, at least know that you have to have an 'x' on the end! "Châteaux," since 'castles' so often come in cookie-cutter complexes...no?
Or maybe you want to look into a complex with a Spanish name. "Mira." I wonder if somewhere in the outskirts of Madrid a neighborhood named "Lookie-here" is advertising itself in the glossy section of the weekend paper?
But the icing on the cake for me this weekend was:
"Cambria Hills."
Not a bad name in itself...picturesque...conjuring up a rolling British pastoral scene...
"Cambria"--the ancient Roman name for what is now Wales.
But..."Cambria Hills" touts its three "French"(?!)-themed-areas: Provence, Rhone, and Loire.
Who came up with these 'themes?' Is there any concept of geography?
Why the Welsh-named sub-division with French-named sub-sub-divisions?!
Nothing in the architecture of these homes even remotely alludes to anything Celtic or Gallic...
(The color schemes available in these homes are "lumière, vintage or crème." Ahem.)
I wonder if there are even hills there...
Ahh...ostentation + misinformation = an equation for modern real-estate monikers...
Surely many people must live in these new areas in spite of the names, rather than because of...
I must admit that I am not immune either; my wife and I live in "Sunset View."
(speaking of 'sunset'--now that daylight savings time is no longer around, nightfall at this latitude now takes place before 5 p.m! Ugh...By December 21, sunset up here will be at 4:15--disgustingly early for 'nighttime' to begin...)
There is no view of the sunset; the apartments all face south...
But at least there is a view...on a recent foggy morning, for example:
...except that right now the blog website is not allowing me to post photos...another time, then...
...already mid-week in mid-autumn...
I've been meaning to write this since Sunday;
every weekend I enjoy testing my absurd-o-meter
by perusing the real estate section in the newspaper.
The names of new condo-complexes and subdivisions are so often scratch-your-head-worthy. The classic example is perhaps the use of 'estate' in any name--apartments and tract-housing are hardly 'estates,' eh?
Some names are merely slightly annoying.
"Brix" for example...I guess "Bricks" was too mundane, and "Brickes" would be too much in the vein of 'ye-olde' corniness...At least the building in question actually has an 'old-world' facade of red baked blocks of clay...
Urban overpriced buildings need to use creative spelling to stand out from its neighbors...
...such as "Bolero"...I guess that building can just dance away from its more mundane peers...
"Verge" caught my eye. On the verge of what? trendiness? the burst of the real-estate bubble? Or maybe you will have one of those "almost!-views" touted in ads--lean out far beyond the railing of your postage-stamp balconette and you'll get a hint of the sun setting behind the other building behind the cranes...on the verge of a view...
I saw a townhome complex a while back--"Lendemain." Ahh...the use of French to 'upgrade' a locale..."Lendemain" simply means "the next day." I wonder if in the suburbs of Paris there is a "Tomorrow" being built...
And while we're speaking French, why not mention "Châteaus." That's right--'chateau' with an 's' on the end. Ack! If you're gonna try something in French, at least know that you have to have an 'x' on the end! "Châteaux," since 'castles' so often come in cookie-cutter complexes...no?
Or maybe you want to look into a complex with a Spanish name. "Mira." I wonder if somewhere in the outskirts of Madrid a neighborhood named "Lookie-here" is advertising itself in the glossy section of the weekend paper?
But the icing on the cake for me this weekend was:
"Cambria Hills."
Not a bad name in itself...picturesque...conjuring up a rolling British pastoral scene...
"Cambria"--the ancient Roman name for what is now Wales.
But..."Cambria Hills" touts its three "French"(?!)-themed-areas: Provence, Rhone, and Loire.
Who came up with these 'themes?' Is there any concept of geography?
Why the Welsh-named sub-division with French-named sub-sub-divisions?!
Nothing in the architecture of these homes even remotely alludes to anything Celtic or Gallic...
(The color schemes available in these homes are "lumière, vintage or crème." Ahem.)
I wonder if there are even hills there...
Ahh...ostentation + misinformation = an equation for modern real-estate monikers...
Surely many people must live in these new areas in spite of the names, rather than because of...
I must admit that I am not immune either; my wife and I live in "Sunset View."
(speaking of 'sunset'--now that daylight savings time is no longer around, nightfall at this latitude now takes place before 5 p.m! Ugh...By December 21, sunset up here will be at 4:15--disgustingly early for 'nighttime' to begin...)
There is no view of the sunset; the apartments all face south...
But at least there is a view...on a recent foggy morning, for example:
...except that right now the blog website is not allowing me to post photos...another time, then...
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
What can You(you) do(do)?
A few days ago, through a friend-of-a-friend, I met an older, retired French guy who used to live in Senegal thirty-some years ago. Inevitably during our conversation, the topic of my Senegal-parrot came up...and it turns out that le monsieur used to have one as well. (In fact, the bird is still alive, being taken care of by a friend back in France while he is on an extended trip...) Monsieur got the parrot when he was living in West Africa, and when he returned to France, the tame bird simply flew along in the plane in his carry-on bag!
From Monsieur, I learned that in Wolof (one of the native Senegalese languages), the word for the local parrots is "youyou." That term has been officially etymologically embraced by les français. So, in good French I can say...J'ai un youyou qui s'appelle Tango.
And he has been toilette-trained; who knew you could 'potty-train' a parrot?!
Here's how his previous owner had trained the bird to poop before coming out of the cage:
She would sit in front of the cage before taking him out, then ask him 'want out?' while lifting the door hinge...and then before she would take Tango out, she would repeatedly and animatedly say 'poop!' until the tell-tail (ahem) plop would occur, at which time she would immediately (and animatedly) say 'good-bird!' while taking him out of the cage. Pavlovian conditioning, eh?
So, we 'inherited' this little ritual. But...I didn't want the bird to begin saying 'poop' after hearing me repeat it all the time every day when I wanted to take him out...
So, I thought maybe I could try 'shifting' the verbal cue to something less, well, fecal...
I thought I might try saying "Poop-hurry up!" with the eventual idea of dropping the 'poop' and just having 'hurry-up' be his order...
It seems to be working.
I can't believe I'm writing a blog about bird crap...
The other little bird in our life--Paquito the Peruvian parrotlet--said his first words this past Sunday while on my wife's lap: "Salut Paquito!" Yes, kind of silly that he says hello to himself, (in French, no less) but logical since we always say hello to him including his name...tiny tiny voice, but it's a trip to hear a bird that's less than five inches in length talking to you!
And Tango, in addition to saying "ouiiiiiiii!" and "hello" is learning to imitate the little bird's diminutive tweets...
When my wife and I eat together at the table in the morning, we hear bird beaks busily breakfasting around us--seed-cracking in surround-sound.
Back to Senegal, now...
a while ago I read an awesome travelogue about West Africa, "Angry Wind; through Muslim Black Africa by truck, bus, boat and camel" by Jeffrey Tayler.
I just got to thinking about how Africa is just not talked about enough in American media...so much ignorance...
And as my wife and I become more aware of our south-of-Seattle-surroundings, we are noting a strong African presence: the bright billowing burka-like robes of the Somali women walking along the traffic in Tukwila...the West-African women who work in the hair-braiding salons in Renton and Federal Way...the Senegalese who often sells sunglasses on downtown corners...the Ethiopian restaurants frequented by the taxi-drivers...
Interesting to look at numbers as well...For example--French-speaking countries. If you total up the population of the 19 sub-Saharan nations where French is an official language (including the island of Madagascar), you get the staggering figure of 214 million. Compare that to the population of France: 60 million; way more people speak French OUTside of France than within...
In case you're wondering which African countries are francophone, here they are in no particular order: Senegal, Guinea, Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, Chad, Côte d'Ivoire, Togo, Benin, Cameroon, Gabon, Congo (Rep.), Congo (Dem. Rep.; formerly known as Zaïre), Central African Republic, Rwanda, Burundi, Madagascar, and (the 'funnest' to say for English-speakers:) Djibouti.
And while on the topic of foreign countries and immigrants, I have to mention my newest neighborhood culinary find: at the Filipino produce stand down the hill, on Tuesdays and Fridays the local Ukranian bakery delivers fresh loaves composed of layers of brioche-like pastry rolled around honeyed and crushed poppy-seeds...(The muy auténtico taco-truck in front is also worthy of a stop.)
To go back to the list of African countries...it's interesting to read through a list of just some of the languages spoken in those places: Mandinka, Jula, Pulaar, Wolof, Maninkakan, Arabic, Fulani, Saninka, Bambara, Bamanankan, Móoré, Hausa, Djerma, Zarma, Sara, Dioula, Baoulé, Ewe, Mina, Kaloye, Dagomba, Fon, Yoruba, Beti, Fang, Myene, Nzebi, Bapounou, Bandjabi, Lingala, Monokutuba, Kikongo, Kingswana, Tshiluba, Luba-kasai, Kituba, Sango, Kinyarwanda, Swahili, Kirundi, Rundi, Malagasi, Somali, Berber, Afar...makes sense that even decades after the end of colonization, le français continues to be the lingua franca, eh?
A few days ago, through a friend-of-a-friend, I met an older, retired French guy who used to live in Senegal thirty-some years ago. Inevitably during our conversation, the topic of my Senegal-parrot came up...and it turns out that le monsieur used to have one as well. (In fact, the bird is still alive, being taken care of by a friend back in France while he is on an extended trip...) Monsieur got the parrot when he was living in West Africa, and when he returned to France, the tame bird simply flew along in the plane in his carry-on bag!
From Monsieur, I learned that in Wolof (one of the native Senegalese languages), the word for the local parrots is "youyou." That term has been officially etymologically embraced by les français. So, in good French I can say...J'ai un youyou qui s'appelle Tango.
And he has been toilette-trained; who knew you could 'potty-train' a parrot?!
Here's how his previous owner had trained the bird to poop before coming out of the cage:
She would sit in front of the cage before taking him out, then ask him 'want out?' while lifting the door hinge...and then before she would take Tango out, she would repeatedly and animatedly say 'poop!' until the tell-tail (ahem) plop would occur, at which time she would immediately (and animatedly) say 'good-bird!' while taking him out of the cage. Pavlovian conditioning, eh?
So, we 'inherited' this little ritual. But...I didn't want the bird to begin saying 'poop' after hearing me repeat it all the time every day when I wanted to take him out...
So, I thought maybe I could try 'shifting' the verbal cue to something less, well, fecal...
I thought I might try saying "Poop-hurry up!" with the eventual idea of dropping the 'poop' and just having 'hurry-up' be his order...
It seems to be working.
I can't believe I'm writing a blog about bird crap...
The other little bird in our life--Paquito the Peruvian parrotlet--said his first words this past Sunday while on my wife's lap: "Salut Paquito!" Yes, kind of silly that he says hello to himself, (in French, no less) but logical since we always say hello to him including his name...tiny tiny voice, but it's a trip to hear a bird that's less than five inches in length talking to you!
And Tango, in addition to saying "ouiiiiiiii!" and "hello" is learning to imitate the little bird's diminutive tweets...
When my wife and I eat together at the table in the morning, we hear bird beaks busily breakfasting around us--seed-cracking in surround-sound.
Back to Senegal, now...
a while ago I read an awesome travelogue about West Africa, "Angry Wind; through Muslim Black Africa by truck, bus, boat and camel" by Jeffrey Tayler.
I just got to thinking about how Africa is just not talked about enough in American media...so much ignorance...
And as my wife and I become more aware of our south-of-Seattle-surroundings, we are noting a strong African presence: the bright billowing burka-like robes of the Somali women walking along the traffic in Tukwila...the West-African women who work in the hair-braiding salons in Renton and Federal Way...the Senegalese who often sells sunglasses on downtown corners...the Ethiopian restaurants frequented by the taxi-drivers...
Interesting to look at numbers as well...For example--French-speaking countries. If you total up the population of the 19 sub-Saharan nations where French is an official language (including the island of Madagascar), you get the staggering figure of 214 million. Compare that to the population of France: 60 million; way more people speak French OUTside of France than within...
In case you're wondering which African countries are francophone, here they are in no particular order: Senegal, Guinea, Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, Chad, Côte d'Ivoire, Togo, Benin, Cameroon, Gabon, Congo (Rep.), Congo (Dem. Rep.; formerly known as Zaïre), Central African Republic, Rwanda, Burundi, Madagascar, and (the 'funnest' to say for English-speakers:) Djibouti.
And while on the topic of foreign countries and immigrants, I have to mention my newest neighborhood culinary find: at the Filipino produce stand down the hill, on Tuesdays and Fridays the local Ukranian bakery delivers fresh loaves composed of layers of brioche-like pastry rolled around honeyed and crushed poppy-seeds...(The muy auténtico taco-truck in front is also worthy of a stop.)
To go back to the list of African countries...it's interesting to read through a list of just some of the languages spoken in those places: Mandinka, Jula, Pulaar, Wolof, Maninkakan, Arabic, Fulani, Saninka, Bambara, Bamanankan, Móoré, Hausa, Djerma, Zarma, Sara, Dioula, Baoulé, Ewe, Mina, Kaloye, Dagomba, Fon, Yoruba, Beti, Fang, Myene, Nzebi, Bapounou, Bandjabi, Lingala, Monokutuba, Kikongo, Kingswana, Tshiluba, Luba-kasai, Kituba, Sango, Kinyarwanda, Swahili, Kirundi, Rundi, Malagasi, Somali, Berber, Afar...makes sense that even decades after the end of colonization, le français continues to be the lingua franca, eh?
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
'Are there trees in (which?) Korea?'
I admit, I find entertainment value in the occasional ignorant question.
Those who know me know I am a map nerd.
I am a fan of the corny bumper sticker that reads:
"without geography, we're nowhere!"
I cannot fathom not knowing, or not wanting to know, where I am and where I might go.
I am a geographile. (I know that's not the real word...someone help me out here...)
One of my favorite questions I was asked when I was younger--in middle school--was this:
"Are there trees in Korea?"
A fellow student learned that I was neither Chinese nor Japanese, but (half) Korean.
And so he asked...I can only hope I controlled my eye-rolling reflex before saying, 'why, yes, there are.'
And then someone else asked me (this was in high school) once:
"Do they have seasons in Korea?"
Wow.
So here's some photographic evidence--autumn in the mountains of Korea, the envy of a New England fall photo spread:
(another, ignorant question, having to do with my non-Korean other-half heritage--I was once asked, when I was in college, by a fellow university student--egad!--"Really, they speak English in Canada? I thought they all spoke French..." I was kind of impressed actually that the person knew that French was spoken as a native language up north...but really, they didn't know English was the language of 3 out of 4 Canadians?)
And there's this:
"So, you were born in North Korea or South Korea?"
Well, I guess that's a fair question...
...but really, almost no one gets out of North Korea...99.999 % of Koreans abroad are from the Southern half of the peninsula.
And that peninsula sure is in the news these days...
A while back when I finally got around to scanning some photos, I found a photo (from 1993) of North Korea. Back then, one of the only spots in South Korea where you could safely look into the North was about an hour to the NW of Seoul, along the estuary of the Han River at the "Ae-gi-bong" lookout:
I admit, I find entertainment value in the occasional ignorant question.
Those who know me know I am a map nerd.
I am a fan of the corny bumper sticker that reads:
"without geography, we're nowhere!"
I cannot fathom not knowing, or not wanting to know, where I am and where I might go.
I am a geographile. (I know that's not the real word...someone help me out here...)
One of my favorite questions I was asked when I was younger--in middle school--was this:
"Are there trees in Korea?"
A fellow student learned that I was neither Chinese nor Japanese, but (half) Korean.
And so he asked...I can only hope I controlled my eye-rolling reflex before saying, 'why, yes, there are.'
And then someone else asked me (this was in high school) once:
"Do they have seasons in Korea?"
Wow.
So here's some photographic evidence--autumn in the mountains of Korea, the envy of a New England fall photo spread:
(another, ignorant question, having to do with my non-Korean other-half heritage--I was once asked, when I was in college, by a fellow university student--egad!--"Really, they speak English in Canada? I thought they all spoke French..." I was kind of impressed actually that the person knew that French was spoken as a native language up north...but really, they didn't know English was the language of 3 out of 4 Canadians?)
And there's this:
"So, you were born in North Korea or South Korea?"
Well, I guess that's a fair question...
...but really, almost no one gets out of North Korea...99.999 % of Koreans abroad are from the Southern half of the peninsula.
And that peninsula sure is in the news these days...
A while back when I finally got around to scanning some photos, I found a photo (from 1993) of North Korea. Back then, one of the only spots in South Korea where you could safely look into the North was about an hour to the NW of Seoul, along the estuary of the Han River at the "Ae-gi-bong" lookout:
It was taken in October--the rice paddies in the 'propaganda villages' are golden...Note the completely deforested mountains, apart from the slopes right along the river in the middle...To the left of those green lower slopes, there's one of those non-populated propaganda villages, built to make it look like all is well in the uptopic North, unlike the evil capitalistic hell of the South...Loudspeakers blast music across the river, to convince gawking day-trippers from Seoul that they live in a (pardon the pun) soul-less society and that Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il merit worship..
A couple of weeks later, some relatives took us to visit the eastern mountains of Korea (where the above fall foliage photo was taken: Odae-san national park). Nearby is a little road-side monument marking the pre-Korean-war division of the peninsula. After 3 years and over a million deaths, the country remained divided in 1953, and the DMZ-border hardly moved...
(ahh...the days before contact lenses, in the large-glass-framed 90's...fresh-out-of-high-school geekdom...)
I thought a glimpse into North Korea might be of interest.
And so--yes, there ARE trees in Korea...just not in the North...
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
...and today's newspaper-gleaned factoid is...
...that Nicaragua is hoping to trademark a new national drink.
Mexico has margaritas.
France has champagne and pastis.
Japan has saki.
Cuba has cuba libres and mojitos.
Peru has its pisco sours...
And now, Nicaragua, trying to play catch-up in the tourist-world,
and also to cash in on its really good rum,
wants a typical liquid refreshment of its own.
So, a contest was held,
which you can read about in this article in today's International Herald Tribune (click on this).
Here's an excerpt:
After sipping numerous offerings, the judges have opted for a fruity concoction that they called el macuá, after a tropical bird found in this part of the world. The drink is one part white rum, one part guava juice, with a half-portion of lemon juice and some sugar and ice.
...that Nicaragua is hoping to trademark a new national drink.
Mexico has margaritas.
France has champagne and pastis.
Japan has saki.
Cuba has cuba libres and mojitos.
Peru has its pisco sours...
And now, Nicaragua, trying to play catch-up in the tourist-world,
and also to cash in on its really good rum,
wants a typical liquid refreshment of its own.
So, a contest was held,
which you can read about in this article in today's International Herald Tribune (click on this).
Here's an excerpt:
After sipping numerous offerings, the judges have opted for a fruity concoction that they called el macuá, after a tropical bird found in this part of the world. The drink is one part white rum, one part guava juice, with a half-portion of lemon juice and some sugar and ice.
It's nice to read about something less threatening than North Korean nuclear tests and school-shootings, no?
I don't recall ever seeing a 'macua' bird, (macaw) though...at least not in the wild. They are extinct in most of Western Nicaragua, where most Nicaraguans live. Their nests are hunted down due to the supposed semi-spiritual powers that can be obtained from its extracts...Hmm...
Monday, October 09, 2006
Adoption numéro deux...
Today we brought home a seven-month-old-baby from West Africa.
We figured Paquito, our five-and-a-half-month-old Peruvian,
could use some company during the day when we're not at home.
So we adopted Tango, a Senegal parrot.
Paquito, our parrotlet, who is sitting on my shoulder as I type this, doesn't seem to mind the avian addition to the apartment. Of course, he hasn't yet seen the 'other' bird directly yet; Tango's in semi-quarantine in the other room for a week...
I guess this means my wife and I are (weird?) bird people now, no?
While living in Nicaragua, we saw so many domesticated birds: the requisite chickens (for eating and fighting)...turkeys...even toucans sometimes! (They like to eat papaya.) Mostly, though, we got acquainted with little green conure parrots, such as "Pinky" who spent some of his time in an recycled fan-shell in a friend's backyard:
(Desgraciadamente, Pinky didn't live too long after this photo...a gato got to him...)
After making friends with a few of these feathered creatures, we decided that when we got back up to Gringolandia, we would get a bird. So, in August, a couple of weeks after moving into our apartment, we went to the parrot store just down the hill from us...and we brought home Paquito:
He is a funny little bird--a quiet little acrobat, just under five inches long. He is still discovering his pea-sized voice. Speaking of peas, he likes to eat them--just the soft inside part; the outside shell gets tossed out of his dish.
I'd mentioned to one of my classes that I have a bird...
...and then last week one of my students came up to me, saying that a family friend was needing to find a 'good home to adopt' their Senegal parrot that they can no longer care for. I thought--aww, the student thinks that I'm 'worthy,' that my wife and I would be a 'good bird home.' Then I thought, "hey--what's wrong with this bird so that they want to get rid of it? Is it a screamer? a half-nude feather-plucker?"
So I called the family...drove by on the way home from work last Friday...learned he hasn't been abused and doesn't have weird ticks...took Sara to meet 'Tango' on Saturday...then we returned this morning to see him one last time and then bring him home.
And here he is:
After having gotten used to Paquito's size, Tango seemed like a pterodactyl (nine inches long!)at first...but he's adjusting well. He can look out the window at the starlings and jays that visit our balcony. We took careful notes from his first owner about what/ when to feed him. (Apples and scrambled eggs in the evening; he likes a red Fruit-loop now and then, but just flings around banana pieces...) His nascent vocabulary already includes 'hello' and 'pretty'...and I hope to teach him some vocabulaire français by next spring so I can take him into class and have fun with the students...
Sara and I are excited to have a full-fledged PARROT now...don't worry, we're not going to neglect 'the little guy'...
But I should put Paquito away now. (He's left quite a few 'gifts' on my shoulders in the past few minutes...one cannot have a phobia of feces and have a pet bird! But having a towel on one's shoulders helps.)
The whistling from the other room indicates that I need to go spend some out-of-cage-time with le perroquet africain...
Who trains who, eh?
Today we brought home a seven-month-old-baby from West Africa.
We figured Paquito, our five-and-a-half-month-old Peruvian,
could use some company during the day when we're not at home.
So we adopted Tango, a Senegal parrot.
Paquito, our parrotlet, who is sitting on my shoulder as I type this, doesn't seem to mind the avian addition to the apartment. Of course, he hasn't yet seen the 'other' bird directly yet; Tango's in semi-quarantine in the other room for a week...
I guess this means my wife and I are (weird?) bird people now, no?
While living in Nicaragua, we saw so many domesticated birds: the requisite chickens (for eating and fighting)...turkeys...even toucans sometimes! (They like to eat papaya.) Mostly, though, we got acquainted with little green conure parrots, such as "Pinky" who spent some of his time in an recycled fan-shell in a friend's backyard:
(Desgraciadamente, Pinky didn't live too long after this photo...a gato got to him...)After making friends with a few of these feathered creatures, we decided that when we got back up to Gringolandia, we would get a bird. So, in August, a couple of weeks after moving into our apartment, we went to the parrot store just down the hill from us...and we brought home Paquito:
He is a funny little bird--a quiet little acrobat, just under five inches long. He is still discovering his pea-sized voice. Speaking of peas, he likes to eat them--just the soft inside part; the outside shell gets tossed out of his dish.I'd mentioned to one of my classes that I have a bird...
...and then last week one of my students came up to me, saying that a family friend was needing to find a 'good home to adopt' their Senegal parrot that they can no longer care for. I thought--aww, the student thinks that I'm 'worthy,' that my wife and I would be a 'good bird home.' Then I thought, "hey--what's wrong with this bird so that they want to get rid of it? Is it a screamer? a half-nude feather-plucker?"
So I called the family...drove by on the way home from work last Friday...learned he hasn't been abused and doesn't have weird ticks...took Sara to meet 'Tango' on Saturday...then we returned this morning to see him one last time and then bring him home.
And here he is:
After having gotten used to Paquito's size, Tango seemed like a pterodactyl (nine inches long!)at first...but he's adjusting well. He can look out the window at the starlings and jays that visit our balcony. We took careful notes from his first owner about what/ when to feed him. (Apples and scrambled eggs in the evening; he likes a red Fruit-loop now and then, but just flings around banana pieces...) His nascent vocabulary already includes 'hello' and 'pretty'...and I hope to teach him some vocabulaire français by next spring so I can take him into class and have fun with the students...Sara and I are excited to have a full-fledged PARROT now...don't worry, we're not going to neglect 'the little guy'...
But I should put Paquito away now. (He's left quite a few 'gifts' on my shoulders in the past few minutes...one cannot have a phobia of feces and have a pet bird! But having a towel on one's shoulders helps.)
The whistling from the other room indicates that I need to go spend some out-of-cage-time with le perroquet africain...
Who trains who, eh?
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