29 December 2008
24 December 2008
Torture
Never again, I thought. I am never, ever going to cause myself an ingrown toenail.
That was six years ago.
It just happened again.
I cut my toenails back in November. My big toenails grow with a curve, and last month I didn´t keep in mind that life lesson I learned when I was in 10th grade. The day after cutting – Monday – my toes were fine. Two days later, though, my greatest fear returned: it was ingrown. It´ll grow out, I thought. I lied to myself for three weeks -- it will heal on its own, no painful clinic visit involved.
Then, last week, I attempted to perform self-surgery by trying to cut off the jagged piece that was growing into my skin. It appeared successful, for about a day. But the sharp pain returned, reminding me constantly every time I put pressure on my toe that I need to cut my toenails straight across, not try to remove every last bit of growth. At times unbearable, I walked with a limp. I felt no pain while barefoot or in sandals.
Then, this past weekend, I promised myself, -now-. Conveniently, Mexico City has no shortage of podiatrists. In fact, I found three within two blocks of my apartment. All of them were closed on Sunday, however, and I had to work Monday, so I decided to wait until yesterday, when I was in Santiago, Veracruz, for Christmas, to get it fixed.
Forty minutes waiting at the small, private clinic and the doctor didn't arrive. Ahmed and his mom asked the receptionist when the doctor arrived.
It sounded flakey, "well, I think one of the assistants sent a text message."
"Can't you call him then and ask when he'll arrive?"
"No, we can't call cell phones from the landline."
The inconveniences of Mexico's phone service. I said, forget it, I'll wait until tomorrow, and we left. Then Ahmed´s mom recognizes the doctor pulling up in his car. We run/limp back to the clinic, the doctor looks at my toe --it's infected-- and says he'll give me antibiotics and it'll be fine.
I say, no, it's ingrown and pushing into my skin, so the doctor, with no hesitation, says,
"Alright, then we'll take out the entire toenail. Are you diabetic?"
"No."
We go to a small operating room, where I climb up onto the bed, the nurse puts my foot on the tray. I'm sitting up, and she says, "Lie down".The doctor orders the nurse to gather anasthesia. I stay calm.
Then, he sanitizes my toe with alcohol. I feel a little prick, and a needle entering my body, shooting me up with local painkillers.
"Are you diabetic?" he asks again.
"No."
Then another prick, this one more painful, and then another, the most painful. I'm calm, but I can almost feel bits of calcium come off as I grind my teeth, and I squeeze my hands together, cracking my knuckles simultaneously as he gives me a third injection. Then a fourth, and he quickly inserts something between my toenail and my skin. I can feel pressure and pain, but nothing as stinging as the anasthesia. He asks me if it hurts, and I say yes. I think, what does it matter if it hurts, you're going to pull it out anyway and you've already loaded me with painkiller.
The doctor clamps the tweezers, or whatever he is using, and lifts my toenail from its place and pulls it out in one piece. I can see Ahmed and his mom from the corner of my eyes and they grimace. Later they tell me there was a little blood, as if I were sweating out a few drops.
"Ya?" (It's out?) I ask the doctor.
"Ya."
That was quick, I think. The whole process took less than five minutes. Those stinging moments of pain were some of the most intense I've felt.The nurse cleans and bandages my toe, then I limp out of the OR, clumsily, and the doctor writes me up a prescription on his typewriter.
He's very to-the-point, even curt.
"Name?"
"Bronson Pettitt, with four t's."
He writes it like Petttit, but it doesn't matter.
"When should I start on the antibiotics?"
"Now. It's going to start hurting once the anaesthesia wears off."
"Was it ingrown?"
"Yes, very ingrown."
"Can I see it?"
"Of course."
I hobble into the OR and ask the nurse. She grabs a piece of dressing and picks up my toenail from the floor. It's extremely curved, nearly a semi-circle. The edge is jagged on the ingrown side, with two sharp points that pierced my skin whenever I pressured my toe.
This perfectly removed big toenail would look creepy if I sent it to one of my enemies with a note that said, "This is only the beginning." Luckily for them, I have no enemies.
I wobble back into the doctor's office and he gives me an antibiotic and an
inflammatory. For the pills and operation, 350 pesos, or about $27 dollars, no insurance.
All in all, the same treatment I would've got in the U.S. -- maybe here a little cruder, but clean and efficient no less -- and at least ten times less expensive. I like to think that this time around, I learned my lesson.
On a side note, I´ve been in Mexico six months today. Later, highlights on my time here.
That was six years ago.
It just happened again.
I cut my toenails back in November. My big toenails grow with a curve, and last month I didn´t keep in mind that life lesson I learned when I was in 10th grade. The day after cutting – Monday – my toes were fine. Two days later, though, my greatest fear returned: it was ingrown. It´ll grow out, I thought. I lied to myself for three weeks -- it will heal on its own, no painful clinic visit involved.
Then, last week, I attempted to perform self-surgery by trying to cut off the jagged piece that was growing into my skin. It appeared successful, for about a day. But the sharp pain returned, reminding me constantly every time I put pressure on my toe that I need to cut my toenails straight across, not try to remove every last bit of growth. At times unbearable, I walked with a limp. I felt no pain while barefoot or in sandals.
Then, this past weekend, I promised myself, -now-. Conveniently, Mexico City has no shortage of podiatrists. In fact, I found three within two blocks of my apartment. All of them were closed on Sunday, however, and I had to work Monday, so I decided to wait until yesterday, when I was in Santiago, Veracruz, for Christmas, to get it fixed.
Forty minutes waiting at the small, private clinic and the doctor didn't arrive. Ahmed and his mom asked the receptionist when the doctor arrived.
It sounded flakey, "well, I think one of the assistants sent a text message."
"Can't you call him then and ask when he'll arrive?"
"No, we can't call cell phones from the landline."
The inconveniences of Mexico's phone service. I said, forget it, I'll wait until tomorrow, and we left. Then Ahmed´s mom recognizes the doctor pulling up in his car. We run/limp back to the clinic, the doctor looks at my toe --it's infected-- and says he'll give me antibiotics and it'll be fine.
I say, no, it's ingrown and pushing into my skin, so the doctor, with no hesitation, says,
"Alright, then we'll take out the entire toenail. Are you diabetic?"
"No."
We go to a small operating room, where I climb up onto the bed, the nurse puts my foot on the tray. I'm sitting up, and she says, "Lie down".The doctor orders the nurse to gather anasthesia. I stay calm.
Then, he sanitizes my toe with alcohol. I feel a little prick, and a needle entering my body, shooting me up with local painkillers.
"Are you diabetic?" he asks again.
"No."
Then another prick, this one more painful, and then another, the most painful. I'm calm, but I can almost feel bits of calcium come off as I grind my teeth, and I squeeze my hands together, cracking my knuckles simultaneously as he gives me a third injection. Then a fourth, and he quickly inserts something between my toenail and my skin. I can feel pressure and pain, but nothing as stinging as the anasthesia. He asks me if it hurts, and I say yes. I think, what does it matter if it hurts, you're going to pull it out anyway and you've already loaded me with painkiller.
The doctor clamps the tweezers, or whatever he is using, and lifts my toenail from its place and pulls it out in one piece. I can see Ahmed and his mom from the corner of my eyes and they grimace. Later they tell me there was a little blood, as if I were sweating out a few drops.
"Ya?" (It's out?) I ask the doctor.
"Ya."
That was quick, I think. The whole process took less than five minutes. Those stinging moments of pain were some of the most intense I've felt.The nurse cleans and bandages my toe, then I limp out of the OR, clumsily, and the doctor writes me up a prescription on his typewriter.
He's very to-the-point, even curt.
"Name?"
"Bronson Pettitt, with four t's."
He writes it like Petttit, but it doesn't matter.
"When should I start on the antibiotics?"
"Now. It's going to start hurting once the anaesthesia wears off."
"Was it ingrown?"
"Yes, very ingrown."
"Can I see it?"
"Of course."
I hobble into the OR and ask the nurse. She grabs a piece of dressing and picks up my toenail from the floor. It's extremely curved, nearly a semi-circle. The edge is jagged on the ingrown side, with two sharp points that pierced my skin whenever I pressured my toe.
This perfectly removed big toenail would look creepy if I sent it to one of my enemies with a note that said, "This is only the beginning." Luckily for them, I have no enemies.
I wobble back into the doctor's office and he gives me an antibiotic and an
inflammatory. For the pills and operation, 350 pesos, or about $27 dollars, no insurance.
All in all, the same treatment I would've got in the U.S. -- maybe here a little cruder, but clean and efficient no less -- and at least ten times less expensive. I like to think that this time around, I learned my lesson.
On a side note, I´ve been in Mexico six months today. Later, highlights on my time here.
22 December 2008
I need dance lessons
I wish I could dance. Almost every Mexican can dance, and many dance well. I don’t know if it comes to them naturally, or it’s a part of their educational curriculum, or they just go to enough parties, weddings and clubs that it becomes a learned talent. Mexican and Latin music are more dance-friendly as a whole – for example, Norteño music with accordion whines and an army of brass is bouncy and good to dance with short, high steps. When you listen to salsa it’s impossible not to follow the beat, even if it’s just with your fingers. Reggaeton, with it’s outright sexual lyrics and dirty, penetrating beat, seems to somehow justify grinding against other people, and Jarocho music from Veracruz makes you wish you would’ve taken at least a class or two in tap dancing.
Maybe Americans lack the culture – and proper music – for dancing, but being in Mexico, it’s tempting to get better at it, and quickly.
Maybe Americans lack the culture – and proper music – for dancing, but being in Mexico, it’s tempting to get better at it, and quickly.
19 December 2008
Monopoly
I make up for my near-complete lack of athletic skill with my aggressive dominance at Monopoly. On Sunday I played two friends, Ahmed and John, who were going bankrupt as I was buying hotels on the Baltic-Mediterranean block (the Ciudad Neza of Mexico City, one of the big slums) and the Pacific-Pennsylvania block (the ritzy, snooty, pretentious Polanco neighborhood of Mexico City).
I’ve been a Monopoly dork since I was young. Despite my strongly liberal leanings, I’m not afraid to show my capitalist side. I’m also good at Scrabble. They should make those two games into sports. Watching TV last night, John asked, “Since when did people playing poker on become a sport? Why would you watch that?” I wouldn’t. But I would watch people gobble properties up and baffle other players with words they’ve never heard of.
I’ve been a Monopoly dork since I was young. Despite my strongly liberal leanings, I’m not afraid to show my capitalist side. I’m also good at Scrabble. They should make those two games into sports. Watching TV last night, John asked, “Since when did people playing poker on become a sport? Why would you watch that?” I wouldn’t. But I would watch people gobble properties up and baffle other players with words they’ve never heard of.
17 December 2008
Changing pesos makes no cents
I think pretty soon I’ll have written about enough annoyances to put together a list of the 10-most irritating things about Mexico.
Here’s another: Nobody has change in this country. I was in line at a bank yesterday and THREE people in a row asked for change. The teller refused to give any of them change. In a bank! Luckily, I didn’t need change. One time I took 2,000 pesos (about $200) and switched them for 20-peso bills (about $2) at a bank. The teller turned white and quickly glanced around to make sure her boss wasn’t watching, but for those two weeks I didn’t have to bother with vendors telling me, in their nasally chilango accent,
“Pos no tengo cambio joveeen” (I don’t have change, young man [but in a nasally, exaggerated, sing-songy accent]).
I frequently diss them in my posts, and some times they deserve it (but I have a story about a good one which I will post shortly) but taxistas are among the worst offenders. Unlike vendors, who finally give in and grudgingly give you cambio, even if it´s their last bit, taxistas will downright take advantage.
“No tienes cambio brother?”
“No, neta no lo tengo (No, I really don’t have any)”
“….Utz pues, solo te puedo dar cinco pesooos (ootz, well, I can only give you five pesooos),”
You hand your money over reluctantly and you get out of the taxi four pesos poorer than you should be.
Carry change. Lots.
In that same vein, even stores rip you off. Many prices in supermarkets are listed in one-hundredths of a cent, while the lowest coin in Mexico is a ten-cent dime (.007 dollars). So if you buy a kilo of apples for 22.46 pesos, you’ll get charged 22.5 pesos. Those .04 pesos, which are worthless, add up, and multiplied by the number of things sold, well…
That’s like if U.S. vendors started listing their products at $3.238, for example. While the shopper would think it would cost $3.23, the register would ring it up as $3.24.
Here’s another: Nobody has change in this country. I was in line at a bank yesterday and THREE people in a row asked for change. The teller refused to give any of them change. In a bank! Luckily, I didn’t need change. One time I took 2,000 pesos (about $200) and switched them for 20-peso bills (about $2) at a bank. The teller turned white and quickly glanced around to make sure her boss wasn’t watching, but for those two weeks I didn’t have to bother with vendors telling me, in their nasally chilango accent,
“Pos no tengo cambio joveeen” (I don’t have change, young man [but in a nasally, exaggerated, sing-songy accent]).
I frequently diss them in my posts, and some times they deserve it (but I have a story about a good one which I will post shortly) but taxistas are among the worst offenders. Unlike vendors, who finally give in and grudgingly give you cambio, even if it´s their last bit, taxistas will downright take advantage.
“No tienes cambio brother?”
“No, neta no lo tengo (No, I really don’t have any)”
“….Utz pues, solo te puedo dar cinco pesooos (ootz, well, I can only give you five pesooos),”
You hand your money over reluctantly and you get out of the taxi four pesos poorer than you should be.
Carry change. Lots.
In that same vein, even stores rip you off. Many prices in supermarkets are listed in one-hundredths of a cent, while the lowest coin in Mexico is a ten-cent dime (.007 dollars). So if you buy a kilo of apples for 22.46 pesos, you’ll get charged 22.5 pesos. Those .04 pesos, which are worthless, add up, and multiplied by the number of things sold, well…
That’s like if U.S. vendors started listing their products at $3.238, for example. While the shopper would think it would cost $3.23, the register would ring it up as $3.24.
15 December 2008
Big hands, little napkins
One of the more frustrating things about having large hands and lengthy fingers here is that I use many napkins. Mexicans tend to have smaller hands than gringos and use less to clean themselves, whereas my pile of dirty servilletas is a small mountain. I should learn to play guitar.
Small hands and small feet go hand-in-hand (pun intended) but luckily I, with a size 10, am lucky that 10 or 11 is usually the highest shoes come. Some gringos I know find it nearly impossible (utz joven, te va´salir más carooo) to find shoes their size.
Small hands and small feet go hand-in-hand (pun intended) but luckily I, with a size 10, am lucky that 10 or 11 is usually the highest shoes come. Some gringos I know find it nearly impossible (utz joven, te va´salir más carooo) to find shoes their size.
19 November 2008
I´M GOING TO RADIOHEAD
Yep, my favorite band -ever- is coming to Mexico City in March for the first time this decade, and I have a decent seat…my pants are charred from the $90 I spent, but how often do you get the chance to see the world’s best rock band in the world’s best country?
On a sidenote, they finished their U.S. tour this past summer, and I was on the verge of going to St. Louis to see them, but nobody could go with me…sigh.
PS. Thanks, Gabo, for buying the tickets. It beat camping outside Foro Sol for two days.
On a sidenote, they finished their U.S. tour this past summer, and I was on the verge of going to St. Louis to see them, but nobody could go with me…sigh.
PS. Thanks, Gabo, for buying the tickets. It beat camping outside Foro Sol for two days.
18 November 2008
Big guns
I want to comment on the fuzz, or as my friend Eric endearingly calls them, the Popo.
Last night I went to the Sumesa (supermarket) to get some milk. It was about 8:30 and the store was empty, except for the cashiers and about five police...with guns...big guns...like, shotguns and Uzis.
One was at the entrance, two were in the corner, and two were outside. Apparently, they were watching the unloading of food from a semi truck. But armed cops are a common sight here…I started to get used to them, becoming a normality, until yesterday, thinking…what if one of those things goes off while I pay for my Alpura ?!
Everywhere I go, especially near banks and large stores, police stand guard outside, solemn and unmoving. You might think it was a war zone or something, or from heavy crime, but it’s not just in Mxc you see cops with big guns, but everywhere. When I was living in Xalapa two years ago I saw them frequently as well, and this was before Felipe Calderon took office and began to heavily militarize the country.
Their salary is as small as their guns are big, and I’m afraid police aren’t afraid to use them...so that’s why I have no photos for this post.
Last night I went to the Sumesa (supermarket) to get some milk. It was about 8:30 and the store was empty, except for the cashiers and about five police...with guns...big guns...like, shotguns and Uzis.
One was at the entrance, two were in the corner, and two were outside. Apparently, they were watching the unloading of food from a semi truck. But armed cops are a common sight here…I started to get used to them, becoming a normality, until yesterday, thinking…what if one of those things goes off while I pay for my Alpura ?!
Everywhere I go, especially near banks and large stores, police stand guard outside, solemn and unmoving. You might think it was a war zone or something, or from heavy crime, but it’s not just in Mxc you see cops with big guns, but everywhere. When I was living in Xalapa two years ago I saw them frequently as well, and this was before Felipe Calderon took office and began to heavily militarize the country.
Their salary is as small as their guns are big, and I’m afraid police aren’t afraid to use them...so that’s why I have no photos for this post.
13 November 2008
Coincidences
Thanks to Bralapa readers for voting for Obama! If you voted for another candidate, well, it's ok because he didn't win. I celebrated heavily with friends and an expensive bottle of champagne. It was more exciting than Christmas when I was 10. I was thinking the race would be closer but once he nabbed Ohio it was over. I'm not a huge sports fan, but Tuesday was the world cup for political junkies.
Despite all the US' voting problems, we're lucky to have absentee and overseas voting. Some of my co workers were abroad during 2006's presidential elections and couldn't vote. If you're Mexican you can vote at the embassies, but not every place has one. Mexico was plagued by voter fraud and rigged elections for 70 years thanks to single-party dominance until 2000, so voting is still sort of a fragile issue.
And now for something completely different. For having 20 million people, Mexico City is really fricking big. Strangely, though, I see the same people over and over, and it´s happening more frequently. It´s mostly on the MetroBus, which is a linear route along Insurgentes. Everyone has his or her routes for home-work-home, but I see more familiar faces on the bus with each day: and it´s strange because I have a 30-minute window when I leave for work, between 8:05 and 8:35, and on top of that there are frequent busses, so given all these variables, the chance of the same people on the same bus day after day is rare. Or maybe not...
...on Sunday, I was running all over Mexico City with a friend, who was interviewing people about their jobs and recording them for a work project, and I saw this kid near a cafe. An hour later, we took the metro from Chilpancingo (see photo; bottom left) to Chabacano, then up to Pino Suarez (top right). Changing lines at Pino Suarez I see the same kid from the cafe, walking to connect as well, but going the opposite direction!! It might sound whoop-dee-doo to you, but living in a big city you get used to the idea that most of the people on the street you´ll never see again in your life.
And now for something completely different. For having 20 million people, Mexico City is really fricking big. Strangely, though, I see the same people over and over, and it´s happening more frequently. It´s mostly on the MetroBus, which is a linear route along Insurgentes. Everyone has his or her routes for home-work-home, but I see more familiar faces on the bus with each day: and it´s strange because I have a 30-minute window when I leave for work, between 8:05 and 8:35, and on top of that there are frequent busses, so given all these variables, the chance of the same people on the same bus day after day is rare. Or maybe not...
...on Sunday, I was running all over Mexico City with a friend, who was interviewing people about their jobs and recording them for a work project, and I saw this kid near a cafe. An hour later, we took the metro from Chilpancingo (see photo; bottom left) to Chabacano, then up to Pino Suarez (top right). Changing lines at Pino Suarez I see the same kid from the cafe, walking to connect as well, but going the opposite direction!! It might sound whoop-dee-doo to you, but living in a big city you get used to the idea that most of the people on the street you´ll never see again in your life.
23 October 2008
Now with free delivery.
Because you love Bralapa news, I´ve added a special, nifty feature in which you can get up-to-the minute news on everything Mexico (according to me) ! There are a few ways to do it, and they´re absolutely free:
1. With some browsers, look for the little orange box in the address line of my page. Click the box and a little menu will appear, with a few different subscriptions. Click one and it will open a new page, where you can "subscribe" to my blog -- basically, you add it to your bookmarks. But wait, there´s more! This fancy bookmark checks my page and whenever I update it includes the entry in a pull-down menu. So instead of having to go through all the trouble to load my page, you just click the button on your bookmarks and see if there´s an update!
2. If you don´t see the little orange dealy-o, you should probably update your browser :) You can also bookmark my page at the right side of the screen where it says ....or bookmark me!"
3. If you have some sort of Reader ( a thingy that collects your favorite news sources and brings them to your homepage, e-mail, or Reader whenever a new article is published ) then click on "free delivery" at the top left of my page.
happy reading!
1. With some browsers, look for the little orange box in the address line of my page. Click the box and a little menu will appear, with a few different subscriptions. Click one and it will open a new page, where you can "subscribe" to my blog -- basically, you add it to your bookmarks. But wait, there´s more! This fancy bookmark checks my page and whenever I update it includes the entry in a pull-down menu. So instead of having to go through all the trouble to load my page, you just click the button on your bookmarks and see if there´s an update!
2. If you don´t see the little orange dealy-o, you should probably update your browser :) You can also bookmark my page at the right side of the screen where it says ....or bookmark me!"
3. If you have some sort of Reader ( a thingy that collects your favorite news sources and brings them to your homepage, e-mail, or Reader whenever a new article is published ) then click on "free delivery" at the top left of my page.
happy reading!
21 October 2008
Tuna leaves
Clarification: I periodically change the subhead under my blog header. "Mavericks only" is poking fun at John McCain and Sarah Palin´s excessive use of the word, not my preference in readers from my alma mater, the MSU Mavericks. (The republicans have diluted the word so much that MSU should sue.) Sorry for the confusion.
One of my favorite quotes from election season was from Joe Biden describing McCain´s lack of maverickyness:
"Look, let's talk about the maverick John McCain is. And again I love him, he's been a maverick on some issues but he's been no maverick on things that matter (to) people's lives....So a maverick he is not, on the important critical issues that affect people at the kitchen table."
As a side note, check out Tina Fey´s spot-on mockery of Sarah Palin and you´ll be tempted to add "mavericky" to your lexicon.
***
It´s cliched, but one thing I miss about being in Minnesota is the fall colors. October is a very beautiful month -- the air is crisp and refreshing, leaves are changing and it smells like pumpkins and candy corn every where you go. Mexico has varied seasons but none that produce a climax leading to more extreme conditions, and the most you get from trees are smelly brown leaves that fall off some trees. For a dramatic and hilarious take on leaves and trees, check out this Monty Python spot, from the Meaning of Life, one of my favorites.
***
Yesterday I tried a new fruit: tuna (in English - prickly pear or cactus apple). It tasted nothing fishy, but more like a sweet and juicy cucumber with a slight hint of watermelon. No resemblence to a pear or an apple.
One of my favorite quotes from election season was from Joe Biden describing McCain´s lack of maverickyness:
"Look, let's talk about the maverick John McCain is. And again I love him, he's been a maverick on some issues but he's been no maverick on things that matter (to) people's lives....So a maverick he is not, on the important critical issues that affect people at the kitchen table."
As a side note, check out Tina Fey´s spot-on mockery of Sarah Palin and you´ll be tempted to add "mavericky" to your lexicon.
***
It´s cliched, but one thing I miss about being in Minnesota is the fall colors. October is a very beautiful month -- the air is crisp and refreshing, leaves are changing and it smells like pumpkins and candy corn every where you go. Mexico has varied seasons but none that produce a climax leading to more extreme conditions, and the most you get from trees are smelly brown leaves that fall off some trees. For a dramatic and hilarious take on leaves and trees, check out this Monty Python spot, from the Meaning of Life, one of my favorites.
***
Yesterday I tried a new fruit: tuna (in English - prickly pear or cactus apple). It tasted nothing fishy, but more like a sweet and juicy cucumber with a slight hint of watermelon. No resemblence to a pear or an apple.
19 October 2008
Smells
This is what Popular Science has to say about Mexico City:
"Mexico City is a natural pollution trap. Surrounded by mountains on three sides and located 7,400 feet above sea level, the soot and exhaust from the city’s four million mostly high-polluting cars gets trapped in a cloud over the city, which experiences 300 days a year of exceedingly high ozone levels. To fix things, the city has begun a pilot project retrofitting 25 diesel buses with particulate filters. Now, if it could only retrofit the other 2,975 buses . ."
Mexico City gets a bad rep for its pollution. People (who have never been here) tell me being in MxC is like smoking two packs of cigarettes per day. That`s a naive statement: there`s no way 20 million people would survive smoking 40 cigarettes each day. That`s called effective population control. But you do notice how dirty the air can be. I`ve started sneezing and sniffling constantly in my job. I work on the 20th floor of a high rise, right up there with the thick blanket of haze and smog, and I think the ventilation system sucks in air from way up there.
On the streets, you smell the diesel exhaust from trucks and unburned gasoline dripping out of the old lime-green VW taxis. It can be arresting some times. On top of that you see, smell or step in streaks of dog doo, puddles of acid rainwater or a river of greasy pork slime from a street stand. It's not just Mexico City, though -- any big city has its environmental vices.
Besides the occasional unpleasantry, I've gotten used to the exhaust and smog. In some areas of the city it's not so bad. The worst is the zocalo (city square in downtown). With so much congestion, it's intolerable. When I came here in June
The house I live in, though, is like a mini sanctuary from all that contamination. Almost every square foot has a plant of some type. Plants filter the air, and they add good vibes to any enclosed space. With so much rain and sun, plants grow well in MxC.
I had a baby cactus and another small plant with long, skinny leaves on my desk in the office to maintain the good vibes, but with a lack of direct sun, they were drying and dying, so I brought them back and put them out on the patio. Hopefully they survive.
"Mexico City is a natural pollution trap. Surrounded by mountains on three sides and located 7,400 feet above sea level, the soot and exhaust from the city’s four million mostly high-polluting cars gets trapped in a cloud over the city, which experiences 300 days a year of exceedingly high ozone levels. To fix things, the city has begun a pilot project retrofitting 25 diesel buses with particulate filters. Now, if it could only retrofit the other 2,975 buses . ."
Mexico City gets a bad rep for its pollution. People (who have never been here) tell me being in MxC is like smoking two packs of cigarettes per day. That`s a naive statement: there`s no way 20 million people would survive smoking 40 cigarettes each day. That`s called effective population control. But you do notice how dirty the air can be. I`ve started sneezing and sniffling constantly in my job. I work on the 20th floor of a high rise, right up there with the thick blanket of haze and smog, and I think the ventilation system sucks in air from way up there.
On the streets, you smell the diesel exhaust from trucks and unburned gasoline dripping out of the old lime-green VW taxis. It can be arresting some times. On top of that you see, smell or step in streaks of dog doo, puddles of acid rainwater or a river of greasy pork slime from a street stand. It's not just Mexico City, though -- any big city has its environmental vices.
Besides the occasional unpleasantry, I've gotten used to the exhaust and smog. In some areas of the city it's not so bad. The worst is the zocalo (city square in downtown). With so much congestion, it's intolerable. When I came here in June
The house I live in, though, is like a mini sanctuary from all that contamination. Almost every square foot has a plant of some type. Plants filter the air, and they add good vibes to any enclosed space. With so much rain and sun, plants grow well in MxC.
I had a baby cactus and another small plant with long, skinny leaves on my desk in the office to maintain the good vibes, but with a lack of direct sun, they were drying and dying, so I brought them back and put them out on the patio. Hopefully they survive.
17 October 2008
Baxter in Mexico
Newz:
I´ve been back to Mexico about three weeks now, and I brought my cat, Baxter. He´s a manx, which means he has no tail -- he was born without one, as most manxes are. Some manxes have little stubs, but Baxter, nada. I had never taken him aboard an airplane, and I was nervous he would be crying the whole time (since I kept him under my seat in a Pet Taxi) and bother everyone, but in fact he was fine -- even better than a car ride, which he loathes.
Baxter enjoys Mexico so far. I haven´t noticed any strong reaction to Mexico City´s pollution or altitude. But he was full of matts, his whole body. I took most of them out before I brought him to MX, but last week I had to shave his bottom half. He´s not bald, but he looks more like a baby lion. The pix below are before he was s
I live on the third floor of a giant, old house. The whole top floor is a patio but it has a large studio room and a normal size room, where I sleep. The top floor has an opening to the rest of the house to bring in light to the first floor (which also has an open-air patio). A concrete beam sits perpendicular over the opening, and a slanted ledge parallels the side. The opening is protected by a metal fence, but being a cat, Baxter´s curiosity took over and he walked through the opening of the fence and out onto the beam. Fine. But he also walked out onto the slanted ledge, and being a clumsy, clawless (all four paws) creature, he started to slip down the ledge. Luckily, he scurried back to the fence and crawled back onto the patio before he fell, but it was a close call, so we´ve put barriers so he can´t try to kill himself again; it´s about a 30-foot drop.
Because of his curiosity, Baxter has to stay in my room all day, from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. But when he does get to wander around and explore the patio, he´s ecstatic:
Ahmed, Baxter, Mathilde and I.
A wild manx, ready to go for the prey (butterfly).
Just so they wouldn´t get jealous of so many cat pix, I´ve included a pic of our dogs back home: Caly, Sheba, Star, Clarice.
Wanting to exploit the comforts of a wood stool, Baxter has second thoughts: a jacuzzi filled with raunchy water on the left and a razor-sharp plant on the right threaten his mobility.
- My cousin Betsy had her baby on Oct. 7, also the birthday of my bro Isaac. Congratz to Nick, Betsy and baby Grace!
- Wednesday marked two years since my dad died. I miss him. It´s still a shock, every day it is, but I think it´s easier to accept as time goes on. It hasn´t seemed like that long, though. I think part of it had to do with me being back in Mexico -- where I was when it happened. Memories are more urgent if you´re surrounded by the same sights, sounds and smells of when they were made.
- I´ve been closely following the elections, and I´m embarassed to say this, but more so than Mexican news. It´s like getting a nasty addiction to the greasiest McDonald´s food.
I´ve been back to Mexico about three weeks now, and I brought my cat, Baxter. He´s a manx, which means he has no tail -- he was born without one, as most manxes are. Some manxes have little stubs, but Baxter, nada. I had never taken him aboard an airplane, and I was nervous he would be crying the whole time (since I kept him under my seat in a Pet Taxi) and bother everyone, but in fact he was fine -- even better than a car ride, which he loathes.
Baxter enjoys Mexico so far. I haven´t noticed any strong reaction to Mexico City´s pollution or altitude. But he was full of matts, his whole body. I took most of them out before I brought him to MX, but last week I had to shave his bottom half. He´s not bald, but he looks more like a baby lion. The pix below are before he was s
I live on the third floor of a giant, old house. The whole top floor is a patio but it has a large studio room and a normal size room, where I sleep. The top floor has an opening to the rest of the house to bring in light to the first floor (which also has an open-air patio). A concrete beam sits perpendicular over the opening, and a slanted ledge parallels the side. The opening is protected by a metal fence, but being a cat, Baxter´s curiosity took over and he walked through the opening of the fence and out onto the beam. Fine. But he also walked out onto the slanted ledge, and being a clumsy, clawless (all four paws) creature, he started to slip down the ledge. Luckily, he scurried back to the fence and crawled back onto the patio before he fell, but it was a close call, so we´ve put barriers so he can´t try to kill himself again; it´s about a 30-foot drop.
Because of his curiosity, Baxter has to stay in my room all day, from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. But when he does get to wander around and explore the patio, he´s ecstatic:
Ahmed, Baxter, Mathilde and I.
A wild manx, ready to go for the prey (butterfly).
Just so they wouldn´t get jealous of so many cat pix, I´ve included a pic of our dogs back home: Caly, Sheba, Star, Clarice.
Wanting to exploit the comforts of a wood stool, Baxter has second thoughts: a jacuzzi filled with raunchy water on the left and a razor-sharp plant on the right threaten his mobility.
10 October 2008
Votes, pesos and cacti
One of the great things about Mexico (among many) is the variety of fruits and vegetables. It´s guayaba season right now and Wednesday I got a kilo of the small, green bittersweet fruits for about 5 pesos. It´s also nopal (cactus), carrot, apple, avocado, orange (as always), tangerine and onion season, among others. Unfortunately, when you eat imported fruits and veggies in Minnesota, most of the time they taste bland, with little texture and crispness. Apart from that, they´re probably genetically modified. When I was a freshman, I was in the cafeteria with a buddy from Kenya and he was complaining that the skin on the orange he was eating was about an inch thick. "It´s probably genetically modified," he said.
Speaking of modified -- holy crap, the peso hit 14.30 to the dollar on Wednesday!!! The global markets taking a hit from the US´ sinking economy. Just last month, the peso was at a multi-year high against the dollar -- 9.50. at this moment its´13.05 to the dollar. To give an idea -- I pay 2,500 pesos per month for rent. I paid the equivalent of $263 greenies last month, as opposed to $175 this past Wednesday, when my rent was due. Of course, I get paid in pesos, so it doesn´t matter as long as the rent is the same. I suppose a lower value of peso is good for gringos converting dollars into pesos. But I doubt it will be for long, as inflation will probably catch up and the price of everything will rise.
Anyway, I got my ballot E-MAILED to me the other day. How cool is that? You don´t even have to leave home to vote, at least in Minnesota. Each state is different, but you can register and request an absentee ballot with little reason other than "I will be away on election day" and voilá, print, vote and mail (postage paid). I think Minnesota is one of only four states that pays your postage.
Speaking of modified -- holy crap, the peso hit 14.30 to the dollar on Wednesday!!! The global markets taking a hit from the US´ sinking economy. Just last month, the peso was at a multi-year high against the dollar -- 9.50. at this moment its´13.05 to the dollar. To give an idea -- I pay 2,500 pesos per month for rent. I paid the equivalent of $263 greenies last month, as opposed to $175 this past Wednesday, when my rent was due. Of course, I get paid in pesos, so it doesn´t matter as long as the rent is the same. I suppose a lower value of peso is good for gringos converting dollars into pesos. But I doubt it will be for long, as inflation will probably catch up and the price of everything will rise.
Anyway, I got my ballot E-MAILED to me the other day. How cool is that? You don´t even have to leave home to vote, at least in Minnesota. Each state is different, but you can register and request an absentee ballot with little reason other than "I will be away on election day" and voilá, print, vote and mail (postage paid). I think Minnesota is one of only four states that pays your postage.
12 September 2008
Motherly advice
I'm at my sister's house in Kenosha. Kids grow fast. My sister's sorting through clothes, Collin's clothes, 2.5 years old. Collin's small for his age but she already has a few considerable piles from two large rubber bins. Some of the stuff will fit his brother, Logan (aka LJ), and some stuff will fit him in a few months. Unfolding each piece, looking at its size, examining it, "waist size is everything," she says. I'm not paying attention, poking around on the computer, and not sure what prompts it, as she turns to me and says,
"Some advice:
A happy wife is a happy life."
She tells me to be attentive and responsive to the ladies, because "most of them are keeping track, most of them are taking notes."
Adding, she says
"Romance starts in the kitchen."
"...just remember that lil tidbit there."
Very good advice. She's be giving it to me the past two days. Kristie has always been mature beyond her years. I'm going to be very wise by tomorrow.
26 August 2008
Today is Tuesday
My life in bullet points.
- At work, about to end my lunch break (2 hours is the norm in Mexico)
- Ate a semi-digestible hot dog ("Vikingo") from a convenience store, mango juice, cold latte -- 26 pesos. For breakfast, sincronizadas (think quesadillas) from my dealer (man who pushes a food cart around the building), 15 pesos.
- The city is semi-smoggy -- ie, you can see the mountains and Santa Fe, but barely. For reference, I work on the 20th floor of the Mural Tower, and you can see most of the city. On a bad day (ie, most of the time), you can´t see the mountains, which lie about 5 miles south, Santa Fe, 7 miles east.
- Reading "Brave New World", in Spanish
- Working on two projects: updating AML´s website (www.aml.com.mx) and putting together a curriculum for teaching English.
- I have this rubber thingy, not sure what it´s called, kind of resembles a thimble, but you put it over your finger and you can page through documents easily. It smells horrible, but I can´t stop sniffing it.
- Just for kicks, I bid fake money on Joe Biden as getting selected as Obama´s VP on Intrade. If it were real money, I´d be rich...that´s how much I bid.
18 August 2008
Obama in Mexico
One of the most common questions people ask me, after they find out I´m gringo, is: "What do you think of Obama?"I always tell them I hope he wins, but it´s such a close race that it´s too hard to predict (and if he loses, I´m moving to Canada -- or staying in Mexico).
Then I return the question, asking, "what do you think"?
The response depends on who I´m talking to: unless it´s a young person, they usually say they have no opinion (in general, Mexicans tend to err on the cautious side when talking about politics, especially if it´s with foreigners). But if it´s someone under 30, undoubtedly they will say Obama.
Curiously, Mexicans showed little interest in the US presidential race. According to a Pew Global Attitudes survey conducted in June, Mexico is the country with the fourth-lowest interest in the race (of the 23 nations polled). 30 percent of Mexicans have a favorable image of Obama (compared to 19 percent of McCain). There´s something to be said, however, about the timing of that poll: it´s two months old, the race has certainly heated up since then, and McCain made a brief stop to Mexico last month, in what was a widely publicized event, and to some, a misguided and awkward excuse to garner Latino votes in the US. What´s more, McCain is Protestant, and received blessings in the Basilica (Mexico´s equivalent of the Mecca), in an overwhelmingly Catholic country and one in which (unlike the US) politicians avoid mixing religion with their campaigns. Misguided, indeed.
Elsewhere
The U.S. presidential race is captivating far more than Americans´attention: it´s safe to say that in nearly every country, particularly in Western Europe, foreigners favor Obama by as much as 53 percent over John McCain (72%:19% in Spain; 84%:33% in France), and in some countries (notably, Japan, at 83 percent, and Germany, about 82 percent), the election is being followed heavily or somewhat (in the US, it´s at 80 percent). Not surprisingly, McCain maintains his highest ratings in the US (60 percent have favorable views of McCain, 59 percent for Barry), while every other country polled by Pew (except Jordan) favors Obama.
13 August 2008
Taxisismo
One of my least favorite groups of people in Mexico City is taxistas, or taxi drivers. Most, but not all, tend to be nacos, Mexican for someone with a limited level of education and culture; bad taste and bad manners; which would be equivalent to redneck or white trash in the U.S. Taxistas generally have a bad reputation for their reckless driving, muggings, assaulting, robbery and sexual harassment. They tend to reek and listen to bad music. Whenever I am about to enter a taxi, I always ask myself: "Am I going to die in this car?" If the answer is no, then I´ll get in. If my chances are high, then I´ll back away slowly and then run off.
In general, there are two types of taxis in Mexico City: legitimate and pirated. You can almost always tell the difference by their license plates. Legit taxis carry government-issued taxi plates, differentiated by a red or green bar at the bottom of the plate. Pirated taxis, on the other hand, use normal plates like other cars, but usually the loud exhaust, squealing tires and numerous dents give them away.
One downside to legitimate taxis, however, is that they are often as bad as pirated taxis. For example, I took a legit taxi the other day in the downtown, and the tires were noticeably loose. The taxi driver seemingly had little control over his car, and whenever we´d make a turn he´d fight with the steering wheel to make sure we didn´t veer off into oncoming traffic. I noticed, too, that he had a long, thin, discrete mirror attached to the sun visor, directly in view of the passenger´s crotch. Watch out, ladies.
All of this negative talk makes taxistas sound like the most horrible people around. Although they are close, taxi drivers have a few redeeming factors: they tend to have impressive knowledge of the city, they have the ability to weave and curve around traffic, they´re better than using mass transit on crowded days, and they´re cheap. Flag drop costs about sixty cents, and most taxi rides cost between $2 and $6. I´ve had good conversations with some taxistas, but most of the time they´re silent -- the majority barely talks to you.
One uncommon sight is to see a female taxista. I´ve only seen a few, and last wek was my first experience with one. It was a massively obese grandma driving a scummy little Beetle (many people still drive the old Beetles in Mexico, and lime-green Beetle taxis in Mexicoare ubiquitous) with no power steering. Interesting sight...
Beetle taxis (or Vochos) are as ubiquitous as ambulantes, a topic for another day :)
25 July 2008
BACK IN MÉXICO!
Hi bralapeños,
My blog has been dormant for almost three months, and I apologize to those loyal fans who missed out on bralapanews, but don´t worry, I´m back and eager to write...I´ll have PLENTY of stuff to blog about...
I´m living in Mexico City and am now working at an intellectual property law firm doing miscellaneous stuff (job title: etceterista and/or gringo-in-residence) such as translating legal documents, helping out lawyers and researching lucha libre (masked Mexican wrestling)!!!
Anyway, tune in to your favorite blog for more news bits, gossip, photography, moving pictures and things that your eyes like.
My blog has been dormant for almost three months, and I apologize to those loyal fans who missed out on bralapanews, but don´t worry, I´m back and eager to write...I´ll have PLENTY of stuff to blog about...
I´m living in Mexico City and am now working at an intellectual property law firm doing miscellaneous stuff (job title: etceterista and/or gringo-in-residence) such as translating legal documents, helping out lawyers and researching lucha libre (masked Mexican wrestling)!!!
Anyway, tune in to your favorite blog for more news bits, gossip, photography, moving pictures and things that your eyes like.
29 April 2008
Porn star Ron Jeremy and Pastor Craig Gross came to MSU last Thursday to debate porn.
Here's a video I made for a class. I could've spent more time editing it, and if I did it again I would've used a tripod, but that's something you realize when you see it on a bigger screen than the camcorder. I used iMovie 06 HD, which is surprisingly easy and a pleasure to work with, but a few things are irritating: namely, I couldn't find a way to merge audio and video once they're separated, and some of the timeline functions are buggy. Aside from that, '06 is a winner.
Here's a video I made for a class. I could've spent more time editing it, and if I did it again I would've used a tripod, but that's something you realize when you see it on a bigger screen than the camcorder. I used iMovie 06 HD, which is surprisingly easy and a pleasure to work with, but a few things are irritating: namely, I couldn't find a way to merge audio and video once they're separated, and some of the timeline functions are buggy. Aside from that, '06 is a winner.
06 April 2008
April foolery
In writing the Distorter (the name the paper takes on during April Fools'), I was at first excited I'd make some biting commentary toward the university and student life. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the risks I'd run into if I were to be as daring as I wanted to be.
Pretending to be an Onion contributor for a day is many college student reporters' dream, but there are some risks you run into. I had already decided I wouldn't target or name anyone, who wasn't well known. In other words, not directly mock any students or faculty, but more so administrators. Even poking fun at administrators, however, was risky, or at least I perceived it as such: I didn't want to burn any bridges or cause awkward tensions.
I had little to lose: I'm graduating next month, my position as editor will end soon and I doubted the stories I would've written would've put the paper in any sort of legal woes.
So why refrain from limitless mockery? Well, I didn't want to do anything I'd regret. At 11 p.m., jokey headlines and stories always seem more funny than when someone comes knocking at your door, demanding an apology or yelling at you for screwing with their reputation. In that regard, you have to think beyond the production-night punnery, and into the next day, and beyond.
So did we have fun while making a statement? Readers can decide for themselves.
***
The other day, I received a call from building services, which performs maintenance and cleaning at the university. They were upset about a story I'd written about an author who made a book about bathroom graffiti who was asking for submissions. Building services thought the story would provoke more incidences of graffiti and vandalism. I assured him it wasn't my intention to cause graffiti, and that I'd rewrite that part of the story calling for submissions.
So what to do when you write something like that? Just because you write it doesn't mean you condone or condemn it; you're just reporting on the facts, or ideally so. On the other hand, if you or your editor deemed it wasn't worthy of the paper's pages, you wouldn't pursue the story. That's attaching newsworthiness to certain topics. Although the intellectual merit of my story was obviously lacking, I thought it to be an interesting book and since everyone sees graffiti in their lives and perhaps wonders what becomes of it, it was newsworthy.
***
This has nothing to do with journalism, but I was thinking the other day: you know how brain cancer is supposedly linked to cell phone usage? What if researchers don't take into consideration the fact that cell phones add stress to your life? If you have a cell phone, you're always worrying that the battery is charged, or that you don't forget your phone, or that you check your texts and voicemails, or that someone is trying to call you, or that the phone is silenced. Plus, you submit yourself to the demands of everyone who has your number. On the other hand, if you didn't have a cell phone, you wouldn't have to worry about any of that; people would have to wait for you to return their calls. Perhaps it's not so much the electromagnetic-cancerous waves bouncing into your brain as the added cancer-inducing stress from having a cell phone that causes cancer.
In the past year I've went several times without cell phones, and in Mexico I depended on it far less because they are so expensive to use. For two weeks last semester I didn't have a cell, and it was nice. I dare readers to go without their cell phone for a day: how does it change your life?
Pretending to be an Onion contributor for a day is many college student reporters' dream, but there are some risks you run into. I had already decided I wouldn't target or name anyone, who wasn't well known. In other words, not directly mock any students or faculty, but more so administrators. Even poking fun at administrators, however, was risky, or at least I perceived it as such: I didn't want to burn any bridges or cause awkward tensions.
I had little to lose: I'm graduating next month, my position as editor will end soon and I doubted the stories I would've written would've put the paper in any sort of legal woes.
So why refrain from limitless mockery? Well, I didn't want to do anything I'd regret. At 11 p.m., jokey headlines and stories always seem more funny than when someone comes knocking at your door, demanding an apology or yelling at you for screwing with their reputation. In that regard, you have to think beyond the production-night punnery, and into the next day, and beyond.
So did we have fun while making a statement? Readers can decide for themselves.
***
The other day, I received a call from building services, which performs maintenance and cleaning at the university. They were upset about a story I'd written about an author who made a book about bathroom graffiti who was asking for submissions. Building services thought the story would provoke more incidences of graffiti and vandalism. I assured him it wasn't my intention to cause graffiti, and that I'd rewrite that part of the story calling for submissions.
So what to do when you write something like that? Just because you write it doesn't mean you condone or condemn it; you're just reporting on the facts, or ideally so. On the other hand, if you or your editor deemed it wasn't worthy of the paper's pages, you wouldn't pursue the story. That's attaching newsworthiness to certain topics. Although the intellectual merit of my story was obviously lacking, I thought it to be an interesting book and since everyone sees graffiti in their lives and perhaps wonders what becomes of it, it was newsworthy.
***
This has nothing to do with journalism, but I was thinking the other day: you know how brain cancer is supposedly linked to cell phone usage? What if researchers don't take into consideration the fact that cell phones add stress to your life? If you have a cell phone, you're always worrying that the battery is charged, or that you don't forget your phone, or that you check your texts and voicemails, or that someone is trying to call you, or that the phone is silenced. Plus, you submit yourself to the demands of everyone who has your number. On the other hand, if you didn't have a cell phone, you wouldn't have to worry about any of that; people would have to wait for you to return their calls. Perhaps it's not so much the electromagnetic-cancerous waves bouncing into your brain as the added cancer-inducing stress from having a cell phone that causes cancer.
In the past year I've went several times without cell phones, and in Mexico I depended on it far less because they are so expensive to use. For two weeks last semester I didn't have a cell, and it was nice. I dare readers to go without their cell phone for a day: how does it change your life?
30 March 2008
Who is your friend and who is your Facebook friend?
I know that time flies, but seeing that I haven't posted in over a month and the fact that it seems like yesterday I made that post, only reaffirms that adage.
Anyway, for my post I'll talk about Skype, becoming cross-eyed, and birthdays. Cell phones revolutionized how we communicate, and Skype doesn't so much revolutionize as evolve how we talk to each other.
Skype blows my mind. For starters, the fact that you can call almost any number in the world from your computer is amazing. But it's the features of Skype that make the program excellent: for example, you can buy a number in a foreign country for about $30 a year. People in that foreign country call that number and it calls your Skype account and pay what it costs to make a local call, rather than spending on long distance. Then, you can change the settings so that all calls received to your account are forwarded to another phone, such as your cell or landline. But wait, there's more! Let's suppose you have a cell carrier that doesn't have long distance. Instead of paying to call long distance, you can get a free SkypeOut local number (as long as you're paying for Skype Pro, at $3 monthly, which includes a myriad of other features) and you call that number -say a 507 number- which accesses your Skype account and you can use speed dial or enter any number, domestic, national or international. With SkypePro, you get free unlimited calls to anywhere in the US, but if you don't pay that $3 a month then it costs $.02 per minute, with other countries varying form $.02 a minute to up to $1.50 or so. There are also special Skype phones that have most of the features the Skype for computer has, but you need to be in a Wi-Fi hotspot to do so. But ultimately you can use the SkypeOut from your regular plain-jane cell phone. In effect, you have Skype wherever you go, regardless if you have a computer. Revolutionary or evolutionary?
That's shameless promotion for Skype, but once you have it and experience all its glory (other features such as voicemail, SMS, webcamming, instant messaging, and a strange feature - SkypeMe - in which you can call random people across the world and talk to them).
Skype certainly isn't the first application to take advantage of these features, but what it did was Apple-ize it, or, take those features, improve upon how the other apps failed at implementing them, or did them poorly, and Skype made them better, user-friendly, and squeaky-clean looking. Skype isn't perfect, that's for sure, as I have problems making calls sometimes using SkypeOut from my cell, but overall Skype is the PowerBook of an all-in-one telephony and instant messaging application.
****
One reason that print media will never go out of print, despite all it lacks when compared to snazzy online media, is the fact that it is very comfortable to read and look at. It can be very difficult to look at a computer screen for an extended period, and perhaps my biggest complaint about most online text is that it's too small. WAY too small....even when i adjust the setting on my computer, it's still too small. I always increase the size of the text, but usually that goofs up the layout of the page. I don't think my eyesight is -that- bad yet, but it might be that I just spend too much time in front of a computer and my eyes begin to hurt, my contacts dry and I start going cross-eyed, unable to control the muscles in my sockets. I wonder what animals think when they see us staring at a rectangular box with light flickering in our face? I remember seeing a comic one time, and I wish I could find it, but it has a family sitting on a couch after the power has went out and instead staring at the TV, they stare at a nail in the wall, and it has a good punchline. I wish I could remember it, but TV has killed many of my brain cells, including the one that remembered that joke.
****
So, today is my birthday, and although I got many salutations and "happy birthdays" in person and over the phone, only one person, my cousin, wished me happy birthday on Facebook. Not that I feel sad, but I just think it's funny how dependent we've become on technology. The thing is, I didn't have my birthday displayed on my profile until 11:30 p.m., on purpose, and I changed it so anyone seeing my profile would see my anniversary of life. And what do you know! As soon as I put public my birthday, I get a birthday wish from someone who I haven't talked to since last summer! For those of you not in the Facebook loop, the site compiles the birthdays of whoever's completing that day and puts a little birthday reminder section on the homepage. That way you can see birthdays of everyone in your network, and most peoples' networks consist of anybody from best friends to minor acquaintances and internent-only friends. Now, I don't expect acquaintances or distant friends to remember my birthday, but it just goes to show how much we need Facebook for birthday reminders, if anything else. Since I've had a Facebook account I've put public my b-day, and every year I'd get at least 30 birthday wishes, maybe even much more, and it irritated the hell out of me. I get all these people who, one day a year, decide to send me a brief wish for a good year and bla-bla-bla, and pretend to care, but the other 364 (or 365) days, when that message really would in fact make my day a little brighter (I have enough family and close friends wishing me a happy birthday as it is), those so-called friends don't decide to care. It's like Black History Month: you can care about it for one month, but the rest of the year blacks don't matter, according to Chris Rock. That's one of the reasons why I'm a little uneasy with birthdays. Oh, and the happy birthday song is annoying. I'm not a cynic, and I like good food, good company and a few presents, but it just makes me wonder how dependent we're becoming on technology to do stuff for us (ie, birthday reminders, or have an excuse not to make physical contact with someone and tell them in person, or the phone, to have a happy birthday).
I'll wait and see these next few days who sends me a belated-Facebook-birthday wish after making the connection of my birthday, the fact they didn't wish me a happy one, and the fact that I got few wishes on the Wall: in lieu of the belated birthday card, it's the belated birthday message on the Wall. That way, people will care (even if it's minimal and to the extent of writing a one-sentence greeting lacking punctuation and capitalization) when I most need it.
Anyway, for my post I'll talk about Skype, becoming cross-eyed, and birthdays. Cell phones revolutionized how we communicate, and Skype doesn't so much revolutionize as evolve how we talk to each other.
Skype blows my mind. For starters, the fact that you can call almost any number in the world from your computer is amazing. But it's the features of Skype that make the program excellent: for example, you can buy a number in a foreign country for about $30 a year. People in that foreign country call that number and it calls your Skype account and pay what it costs to make a local call, rather than spending on long distance. Then, you can change the settings so that all calls received to your account are forwarded to another phone, such as your cell or landline. But wait, there's more! Let's suppose you have a cell carrier that doesn't have long distance. Instead of paying to call long distance, you can get a free SkypeOut local number (as long as you're paying for Skype Pro, at $3 monthly, which includes a myriad of other features) and you call that number -say a 507 number- which accesses your Skype account and you can use speed dial or enter any number, domestic, national or international. With SkypePro, you get free unlimited calls to anywhere in the US, but if you don't pay that $3 a month then it costs $.02 per minute, with other countries varying form $.02 a minute to up to $1.50 or so. There are also special Skype phones that have most of the features the Skype for computer has, but you need to be in a Wi-Fi hotspot to do so. But ultimately you can use the SkypeOut from your regular plain-jane cell phone. In effect, you have Skype wherever you go, regardless if you have a computer. Revolutionary or evolutionary?
That's shameless promotion for Skype, but once you have it and experience all its glory (other features such as voicemail, SMS, webcamming, instant messaging, and a strange feature - SkypeMe - in which you can call random people across the world and talk to them).
Skype certainly isn't the first application to take advantage of these features, but what it did was Apple-ize it, or, take those features, improve upon how the other apps failed at implementing them, or did them poorly, and Skype made them better, user-friendly, and squeaky-clean looking. Skype isn't perfect, that's for sure, as I have problems making calls sometimes using SkypeOut from my cell, but overall Skype is the PowerBook of an all-in-one telephony and instant messaging application.
****
One reason that print media will never go out of print, despite all it lacks when compared to snazzy online media, is the fact that it is very comfortable to read and look at. It can be very difficult to look at a computer screen for an extended period, and perhaps my biggest complaint about most online text is that it's too small. WAY too small....even when i adjust the setting on my computer, it's still too small. I always increase the size of the text, but usually that goofs up the layout of the page. I don't think my eyesight is -that- bad yet, but it might be that I just spend too much time in front of a computer and my eyes begin to hurt, my contacts dry and I start going cross-eyed, unable to control the muscles in my sockets. I wonder what animals think when they see us staring at a rectangular box with light flickering in our face? I remember seeing a comic one time, and I wish I could find it, but it has a family sitting on a couch after the power has went out and instead staring at the TV, they stare at a nail in the wall, and it has a good punchline. I wish I could remember it, but TV has killed many of my brain cells, including the one that remembered that joke.
****
So, today is my birthday, and although I got many salutations and "happy birthdays" in person and over the phone, only one person, my cousin, wished me happy birthday on Facebook. Not that I feel sad, but I just think it's funny how dependent we've become on technology. The thing is, I didn't have my birthday displayed on my profile until 11:30 p.m., on purpose, and I changed it so anyone seeing my profile would see my anniversary of life. And what do you know! As soon as I put public my birthday, I get a birthday wish from someone who I haven't talked to since last summer! For those of you not in the Facebook loop, the site compiles the birthdays of whoever's completing that day and puts a little birthday reminder section on the homepage. That way you can see birthdays of everyone in your network, and most peoples' networks consist of anybody from best friends to minor acquaintances and internent-only friends. Now, I don't expect acquaintances or distant friends to remember my birthday, but it just goes to show how much we need Facebook for birthday reminders, if anything else. Since I've had a Facebook account I've put public my b-day, and every year I'd get at least 30 birthday wishes, maybe even much more, and it irritated the hell out of me. I get all these people who, one day a year, decide to send me a brief wish for a good year and bla-bla-bla, and pretend to care, but the other 364 (or 365) days, when that message really would in fact make my day a little brighter (I have enough family and close friends wishing me a happy birthday as it is), those so-called friends don't decide to care. It's like Black History Month: you can care about it for one month, but the rest of the year blacks don't matter, according to Chris Rock. That's one of the reasons why I'm a little uneasy with birthdays. Oh, and the happy birthday song is annoying. I'm not a cynic, and I like good food, good company and a few presents, but it just makes me wonder how dependent we're becoming on technology to do stuff for us (ie, birthday reminders, or have an excuse not to make physical contact with someone and tell them in person, or the phone, to have a happy birthday).
I'll wait and see these next few days who sends me a belated-Facebook-birthday wish after making the connection of my birthday, the fact they didn't wish me a happy one, and the fact that I got few wishes on the Wall: in lieu of the belated birthday card, it's the belated birthday message on the Wall. That way, people will care (even if it's minimal and to the extent of writing a one-sentence greeting lacking punctuation and capitalization) when I most need it.
23 February 2008
Riding the media bandwagon
One of the biggest challenges, I think, to ethics in the media is the fact that there are no ethics when no one else follows them.
What I'm referring to is the bandwagon effect.
Last week, an MSU student allegedly made threats to other students through text messages and e-mails. We got a press release from Mankato police about the incident, alleging that the student was also pulling fire alarms and that threats and alarm activations were allegedly connected.
On the press release was his name, age and hometown. At first, I thought it wouldn't have been a problem printing the name. After all, he was facing charges of terroristic threats. But notice "facing," not charged -- yet. Is it fair to use suspects' names if they haven't been charged yet, risking their reputation and perhaps your credibility? And what benefits are there to naming suspects in a story? What happens if you say that so and so is facing charges of sexual assault, for example, and it turns out a week later that he's not guilty? Putting a story that he faces charges will probably receive more attention than the follow-up story that says judges ruled him innocent. How has his reputation been smeared in that week, and how does the credibility of your journalism and paper look if you allege that someone is guilty before ruled as such?
It's certainly a gray area. In some instances it would be suitable. I think in a high-profile case involving someone of importance, or something that would affect many people, there's no doubt that printing the name is a problem.
I thought about it more, and after consulting with Ellen and John, we came to the conclusion that it wasn't worth printing the name. After all, the county attorney said charges were still pending, and I never heard back from the commander on duty.
By 6 p.m., his name was public information. KEYC TV ran the story and his name. The next day, MSU had a brief on its home page, with a link to the page of the police report. But the Reporter, being likely the most widely read and seen medium by MSU students, withheld his name. Even if he was guilty, I didn't feel confident in publishing something I wasn't 100 percent sure. I'd rather be safe than sorry, and that might mean withholding information. In this case, I didn't see a disadvantage to waiting to publish the name. As journalists, we owe responsibility to those who we write about to be fair and accurate. If I were this guy, and I was in jail awaiting charges, would I want someone accusing me of being culpable if I weren't guilty? Absolutely not.
At the same time, it's not the responsibility of journalists to be an advocate or attorney of their subjects. Objectivity is valued and important.
So did KEYC overstep their responsibilities as journalists? What happens if the charges are acquitted? Will there be a follow up? I think it's especially important to be careful if the story is published online. Even if it is posted online and then retracted, other news organizations may have already taken the story, or distributed elsewhere, and how do you retract something you don't have access to? That information -- and reputation and perception -- will linger for who knows how long. I don't think it's bad to be hesitant to run something that could have the possibility to damage you or someone's reputation.
At one point on Wednesday, I thought it would be ok to run the story; if KEYC already released the name, then the Reporter could too. But as mom says, "If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you, too?" Does the fact that another media outlet releases information automatically make it acceptable for other organizations to do so? Who sets the standard?
The bandwagon effect was evident after Rissa Amen-Reif died after being struck by a car. One bit of false information by a reporter citing a police officer who stated that alcohol was a factor was carried and echoed by every other medium and thereby changing the public's perception of Amen-Reif and in effect MSU's drinking "problem."
Even the Reporter fell victim to this incident of "everyone else says it so it must be true."
That's a dangerous trap to fall into it, but an easy one at that.
18 February 2008
From a drop in the ocean to a hurricane, bloggery encompasses the masses
How should newspapers approach blogs? How close should the relationship be between blogs and the print edition, bloggers and editors, stories and opinion, comments and posts?
"Blogging between the lines" addresses those thorny issues, after a Poynter Online discussion led to the establishment of some guidelines. The point is blogs are now and have been for a few years an inevitable part of newspapers and it's time for the uninvolved ones to stop pussyfooting around and get with the program. You better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone, as Bob Dylan sings.
The discussion didn't result in any hard and fast rules but did offer some suggestions:
Blogs attract a different audience than print newspapers and they should be treated and executed as such. In other words it's not effective to translate the tone and feeling directly, but rather inject some informality, brevity and commentary to blogs. That's hard for journalists to shrug off, especially if objectivity has been beaten in their heads their whole lives. Perhaps the best way for the fogies (both old and young) to become more adept at bloggery is to start small. I mean, blogs as a whole aren't weighty things and shouldn't be treated as such. Let the Wall Street Journal and New York Times stay as they are in terms of their reporting excellence and credibility, but for the blogs that mingle in the minutiae, the pointless and the irreverent: bring them on. I've been blogging for six years now, and my first blog was indeed pointless. I hesitate to admit this to my classmates / relatives / friends / Bralapistas, but I have a tail-less manx/angora cat named Baxter. He looks and acts like a rabbit, including his little hop. Anyway, he "wrote" a blog detailing his life, and it was called "Baxter News Daily." Posts were short, quippy and involved his perspective on life, the universe and everything, and I'd need to spend a while looking for them, but my friends, and anybody who knew Baxter, was a fan. I'm admittedly a cat person, but I get along just as well with dogs. BND, as the hipsters called it, lasted only a few months, as most blogs do, but writing BND got me into writing a personal blog, which connected me with my friends while I was away at college. As if it's that far, but Facebook didn't exist back then.
Baxter gets intense with his paper bags, and his alter-ego, Bagster, is ready to save the world from mischief and mayhem.
11 February 2008
We're all mojos
Why can't I do this everyday ??!
*****
In the past year or so, online readership of the Reporter has more than doubled, and it's interesting to note a few things: not much has changed on the website (though it was put on the College Publisher network Sept. 2006) in terms of technology -- still no videos, podcasts, etc.; the Reporter has been online since the early part of the decade; and advertising remains sparse.
I think more people are accepting online newspapers and feel more confident getting their news from the web rather than a hard copy. You can tell by the numbers: the site frequently gets more than 1,000 page impressions per day, while last academic year it went over that mark only occasionally. We haven't hit 2,000 impressions yet, but I suspect that'll happen by May. I doubt the primary reason has to do with quality and the news that's happening; rather I think it has more to do with an overall acceptance of news in other mediums, and the comfort level readers have achieved. Pero qué sé shyo, maybe in fact all the little fill ads in the print edition for "www.msureporter.com" or "paper-cut free news" are effective ... ¿ ?
****
Kevin Sites' journey to war-torn countries is inspiring. Being a journalist in any developing country is risky; to be an American journalist in a developing country is even scarier; and to travel to countries affected by war is terrifying. Instead of trying to capture an overall picture of what's happening in each respective country, Sites goes personal and in-depth, interviewing the people affected and getting to know them. Sites was on the cutting edge more than two years ago; blogging and video casting while traveling (see below). I remember three years ago MSU alumnus Aaron Doering came to MSU to talk about his amazing journey: he went to the Arctic Circle on dogsled and blogged and uploaded videos, using a solar-powered satellite to upload videos. He integrated the trip with classrooms across the country. While this was more of a cutting-edge learning tool, it speaks enormously of how powerful the technology is and how conducive it is to citizen journalism. The other day I was going to do an interview, wearing a pair of khakis, and I thought of all the equipment I was carrying: voice recorder, pocket Canon Elph digi-cam, broadband cell phone, and of course a pen and notepad. I'm not rich by any means, and all of those items are under $300, but essentially I had the equivalent of a printing press in my pockets. That's not including a laptop; I could've gone out, interviewed my subjects, written the story, typed it (tediously) on the cell, uploaded it to a blog, uploaded both the audio clips and photos via their USB ports (there's got to be some cable or adapter out there that lets you do that). How powerful !!! And having a laptop would've exponentially made it easier and even more advanced. I'd have access to dozens to potentially millions (or billions !) of viewers / readers / listeners, through all the mediums: Facebook, the Reporter website, Flickr, MySpace, my blog ... and that's just to name a few. I could become a member of Oh My News, or even write stuff on CraigsList (they've got a news section). Johannes Gutenberg is spinning in his grave.
I've embedded a video of Kevin Sites' introductory video to his year-long project. Though you can find them all on Yahoo, skip straight over to YouTube. His videos on Yahoo are irritating to watch, since they put mandatory commercials at the beginning. YouTube doesn't have all his videos, but at least they're commercial free.
Anyway, watching a few of Sites' videos, I am reminded more that I hate the fact my life is so easy. Despite a stressful, intense job, and mounting debt, and the fact that five dozen eggs now cost $10 when they cost $5 a month ago, and the fact that a gallon of gas is about $3, I have an easy, happy life. I have little reason or right to complain — about anything — because somebody out there has it worse off than I do, and they're surviving just fine. Mexico was a humbling experience. I think every college student should be required to study abroad. And I'm not saying that in a self-righteous, pretentious manner, but in sincerity. It should be a requirement, despite the major, especially for mass comm students. Some universities already do it. Even better in the third world. I don't know if I'd have the motivation, but I'd like to work in a field picking fruits for a year in Mexico, earning $2 a day. Honestly, though, I have talked to very, very few students who regret studying abroad, while many who never did regret not doing it. What do you think -- should it be required ?
04 February 2008
After half a century of scholarly work, new documents about the lives of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg have been made public.
"Certainly, after 50 years, the unique historical value of these records outweighs any secrecy rationale," said Thomas S. Blanton, the director of the National Security Archive, which filed the petition, with support from more than a dozen scholars. The archive, based at George Washington University, is a nonprofit group that uses the Freedom of Information Act to challenge government secrecy.
Among the historians were John Lewis Gaddis, the Robert A. Lovett professor of military and naval history at Yale, and Ronald Radosh, adjunct senior fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington and past president of the Historians of American Communism.
"Certainly, after 50 years, the unique historical value of these records outweighs any secrecy rationale," said Thomas S. Blanton, the director of the National Security Archive, which filed the petition, with support from more than a dozen scholars. The archive, based at George Washington University, is a nonprofit group that uses the Freedom of Information Act to challenge government secrecy.
Among the historians were John Lewis Gaddis, the Robert A. Lovett professor of military and naval history at Yale, and Ronald Radosh, adjunct senior fellow at the Hudson Institute in Washington and past president of the Historians of American Communism.
28 January 2008
The 11 layers of citizen journalism, and that's just the beginning.
Steve Outing presents some interesting facets of citizen journalism in his article, "The 11 layers of citizen journalism." Media are now a two-way street, and with internet and blogs around it can't be denied that the line between citizen and journalist is blurred.
Among the most interesting of Outing's article was the fifth part in which he writes about a reader blog-ombudsman hybrid. An ombudsman is someone independent of the newspaper who criticizes and commentates on content, in attempts to keep a check on the paper's ethics. Anyway, I found it interesting because most media websites have some way or other for readers to make comments in response to stories, but there's often no way to critique the paper as a whole. That's where a reader-blog would come in handy. Of course, there'd still ideally be some editorial control over it, just to make sure comments are moderated and no one is libeled, but otherwise it should be fair game for readers.
I wonder how familiar readers are with ombudsmen. It speaks mountains of the organization if it's willing to openly accept critique; it shows that outlet is listening and wants to know what the public thinks, what should change about its reporting. Allowing comments to be posted on stories is one thing, but I don't think that goes far enough.
For it to work properly, the media outlet could select a few ombudsmen from different areas -- maybe experts in education, government, criminology, etc -- and have them critique stories and write commentary, spurring reader comments. I don't know if it would be a good idea allowing Joe Citizen access to post his own full-length blog, but what about taking a look at some of the social networking sites and adopting their use of "walls", encouraging users to give feedback.
Another interesting aspect of citizen journalism that Outing presents is the hyper-local reporting. I don't think traditional journalism will ever die ( I mean, can you honestly replace the sweet feeling of waking up to a Sunday paper and browsing each section, sipping your coffee and munching donuts? Kindle, you have nothing on the paper copy.) In that regard, as buy-outs and mergers threat traditional journalism, it forces us to be more selective in what we cover, since there are less pro journalists, and newsworthy events go uncovered. So, we have to utilize technology to the max. The school board meeting might not take priority, even though it's important, and it affects many people, but the journalist is busy elsewhere, so why not ask faithful readers to volunteer and cover the meeting? For example, I interned last summer at the Austin Post Bulletin, and I went to a city council meeting in which one of the issues was a proposed expansion of a vet clinic, but the land was needed for flood mitigation. That story never made it on the pages. To Joe Reader, he'd say, "Why do I care that this is printed in the paper? This only affects that neighborhood." But still...that's an entire neighborhood. This type of hyper-local journalism borders on community newsletters, but hey, it's news, and it affects people, and things like these can cost taxpayers money. This is where dedicating blogs and assigning a few citizens in each quadrant to cover what goes on, would be greatly beneficial and of interest to those readers. The world is becoming more globalized, but at the same time, as a result, we crave "more local," in the mess of mass media.
***
Besides the facets Outing presents -- of which I agree with most of them -- there are many he left out. The article was written three years ago, but if he were to rewrite / update it, it might be called the 29 layers of citizen journalism. Ok, maybe not that many (or maybe even more??!), but here's what he might've included:
1. YouTube. You might've heard of it. This has revolutionized how we watch videos. The traditional tube has eroded and we depend more on viral videos for our news, entertainment, information, class lectures (you can attend U of Berkeley free!) Anyway, what YouTube does for citizen journalism is it lets any Joe Schmoe take a video of whatever, and post it online at the disposal of millions (billions?) of potential viewers. YouTube is to owning your own TV station as blogs are to owning your own newspaper. True, you don't need YT to post videos, but no other site has been so popular, accessible and centralized as YT, effectively putting you in contact with more viewers than all of the Superbowl shows combined. Want to start a group that broadcasts twice-monthly firefighter meetings in Taopi so that the rest of the 89 inhabitants of the town can see what motions are passed and find out which avenues will get new reflector signs? Easy as pie.
2. Social networking sites. Whereas news organizations depended on exclusive databases to get their contact information for sources, they now have an insanely amazing tool to reach millions of people, especially youth and college students. Facebook, Myspace, Hi5, etc., are places you can get phone numbers, emails, interests, hobbies, religious/sexual/political preferences, etc. etc. -- basically, phonebooks, directories, databases, etc., combined into one centralized location, and Joe Citizen Journalist now has access to potentially millions of sources. I've used facebook for stories -- not necessarily for writing -- but for reporting, for finding sources and getting contact info that's unavailable elsewhere. At the same time, social networking is dangerous to citizen journalism, as anyone can make a forum, post something as if it were factual, and -- get this -- news organizations actually quote what is written as fact. Case in point: someone posted an account of what hapepned the day Rissa Amen-Reif died, and media cited the events as if they were true. Dangerous.
3. Cell phones. Most cell phones come with cameras, and this allows Joe C. Journalist to possibly take real-time video of news events. During the Virginia Tech shooting, students used their camera phones to record the action. And with broadband / wifi networking, it becomes even easier to transmit that video to a blog, post it, perhaps beating even the 4 big TV stations.
&&&
Those are only a few of the layers of citizen journalism; I can think of a few more, but those are probably the most important since Outing wrote his article. What have you got, Journalism U'ers ??
22 January 2008
one size fits all
Eight months is too long to have a blog and not post. As my mass comm. professor Ellen calls it, a puppy: exciting to get, and for the first few weeks cute and fun, but when it turns into a dog, all the maintenance and attention make you wish you never got it.
My puppy is dead.
But I got a new one...kind of...in the form of a blog for a class.
At least I'll be updating more frequently this semester, since my grade depends on it.
Cheers to puppies.
***
— Anyway, just in case you newbie readers are wondering, Bralapa means Bronson + Xalapa. Xalapa is the Mexican city in which I studied a year.
— Click on the ads above to help fund my scholarly pursuits. I suggest all you bloggers, especially those in my class, sign up for Google AdSense: let Google put ads on your site and you earn money when users click them. Hardly anything, but it's a nice bonus for doing homework.
My puppy is dead.
But I got a new one...kind of...in the form of a blog for a class.
At least I'll be updating more frequently this semester, since my grade depends on it.
Cheers to puppies.
***
— Anyway, just in case you newbie readers are wondering, Bralapa means Bronson + Xalapa. Xalapa is the Mexican city in which I studied a year.
— Click on the ads above to help fund my scholarly pursuits. I suggest all you bloggers, especially those in my class, sign up for Google AdSense: let Google put ads on your site and you earn money when users click them. Hardly anything, but it's a nice bonus for doing homework.
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