Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Not my usual fluff and fold (mature audiences only)
Today I heard a woman yelling for her life. She was drowning in a pile of trash at the Zona 3 Guatemala City dump. I was walking along the embankment, some precarious twists and turns, steep gravelly inclines, and death defying drops to the dump, which lies in the ravine of an old river. We were walking within the small shantytown of impermanent shelters made of corrugated metal and cardboard boxes where families live, eat, sleep, laugh and make love (or sometimes just have sex, or sometimes just suffer sexual abuse and molestation). These people live in extreme poverty. The way they make money is by picking, sorting, and salvaging pieces of junk within mountains of trash at the dump. Some people call them recyclers, a more dignified way to name their toil. But the truth is picking through the small pieces of salvaged metal sold for pennies hardly seems like dignity.
As we walked, we heard shouts for help. "Que paso?" we yelled down into the ravine. And as she shouted her predicament, her voice trembling with fear, we called for help. Some piles of trash float on top of water, and it is hard to distinguish between the trash piles on sold ground, and the floating ones that act more like quicksand, pulling one under the filth. She had begun to be pulled under, in imminent danger of drowning and being buried alive by trash. It makes me shudder.
As we walked, we heard shouts for help. "Que paso?" we yelled down into the ravine. And as she shouted her predicament, her voice trembling with fear, we called for help. Some piles of trash float on top of water, and it is hard to distinguish between the trash piles on sold ground, and the floating ones that act more like quicksand, pulling one under the filth. She had begun to be pulled under, in imminent danger of drowning and being buried alive by trash. It makes me shudder.
Our colleagues ushered us out of the way, while some young men half-ran, half bounded down the steep hillside to go and save her. She was pulled to safety by several of these men and a rope. A few minutes later the bomberos that had been called were running down the hillside to help, and check her for injuries. I later learned that this woman, was a member of the Health and Safety Committee of these informally organized collective of wastepickers. She goes house to house, talking about the dangers of the dump, and practices for better safety - like working in groups of 2 or 3 in case of mishaps. But her husband had recently died; she had six kids. She was desperate. Extreme poverty drives one to desperation for survival which leads to horrific unimaginable choices.
This story is no exaggeration In this very same dump in 2008, a trash avalanche buried 40 wastepickers. Their bodies were not recovered, many of their names were not documented. This disaster orphaned several many children, including a family of six siblings living in a shack adjacent the dump, who lost both their parents in the trash avalanche.
Certainly, witnessing such a thing can put life and our problems into perspective. Is it a luxury problem we’re dealing with? Or is the problem on the order the magnitude of a pesky mosquito? Are we truly desperate? Or merely dramatic?
Along the way, an older women from the community association held my hand on the steep inclines, as I struggled with my unsure footing and irrational (now seeming all the more rational) fears of the steep paths. After the event, as we called the police, and then were ushered away from the scene, I did not see her again. She was an angel to me today, and I send her my gratitude out here in cyberspace.
Certainly, witnessing such a thing can put life and our problems into perspective. Is it a luxury problem we’re dealing with? Or is the problem on the order the magnitude of a pesky mosquito? Are we truly desperate? Or merely dramatic?
Along the way, an older women from the community association held my hand on the steep inclines, as I struggled with my unsure footing and irrational (now seeming all the more rational) fears of the steep paths. After the event, as we called the police, and then were ushered away from the scene, I did not see her again. She was an angel to me today, and I send her my gratitude out here in cyberspace.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Urban Village
Capitol Hill in DC is the most wonderful neighborhood. It's historic houses; small commercial hubs of indepenedent businesses; pocket parks; and public transport compose an idyllic urban village. Our city councilmember calls it a livable, walkable community. I call it home.
This week, the Washington Post did a feature on the Eastern Market and Barracks Row districts of the neighborhood - both within walking distance of my house, and the locale of my most frequented haunts. Among the featured businesses were some of my favorites, and some not so much. Here's my take on the WaPo's take:
Acqua al 2: Looks and feels like Italy, especially in the spring and summer when the cafe tables are outside. The menu is authentic, if not pricey and fairly meat-centric. It just makes me want to be an Italian wino. An especially lovely ambiance.
Capitol Hill Books: Of course, I love book stores, and the more independent the better. But I'm scared of this one. In this 100+ year old 2-story rowhouse, the books are stacked everywhere, two deep, one-hundred high, and near collapse. Unfortunately, it feels like a claustrophobic firetrap to me. I understand its appeal, and I want to love it more.
Montmartre: My favorite petit French restaurant, and where I had the most gorgeous 40th birthday lunch - outside, alone, and completely content. It's also wonderful for a meal a deux. The article mentions Seventh Hill next door, and by the same owners, where Anthony seriously spins spins some serious pizza dough, and I sit at the counter taking it all in.
Peregrine: Amazing coffee, made with the care and respect it deserves. I so enjoy getting a real cappuccino with richly spun foam. The music tends to pulse a bit, and this together with free wireless, and fueled by the wired coffee, tends to give it a high greying hipster quotient. Sometimes, I feel a little uncool there, but still just cool enough to get it. And I always, always, always run into someone I know there.
Hill's Kitchen: My shop of kitchen bliss. I sometimes go in just to walk through and fondle the whisks and Peugeot pepper grinders. I always try to buy one little something, to support the shop. Leah, the owner, is barely 30, grew up in the neighborhood, and is somewhat of a local hero. Seriously, if I run into her at Tunnicliff's Tavern or Seventh Hill (as I have on several occaisons), she is surrounded by adoring kitchen junkies 10+ years her senior. Though I'm a huge fan, I never approach - it must be hard to be a local celebrity, I want her to be able to finish her beer in peace.
Ted's Bulletin: Diner-ish, comfort food with bar and a bakery. I generally like the vibe, but milkshakes and chicken-fired steak are not really my thing.
Belga Cafe: Real-life Belgian food. It came before and is more upscale and with a wider menu than the hip, but also delish Granville Moore's on H Street NE. I love the mussels and fries of course, but also their steak and the cool, savory tomato sorbet that melts its way into my salad. It's also where I greatly enjoy a perfect Delerium Tremens - my favorite Belgain ale.
The Fridge: Never been. Must, must, must check it out!
Lola's Barracks Bar and Grill: A younger crowd. I think I've only been once, but very glad to have it in the mix.
Homebody: I am a homebody, and I like any good home store. Homebody is just such a store, and I give it props just for that. But I've never bought anything here, the selection feels too limited to meet whatever it is I search that day. Lots of great stuff, but nothing for me to buy.
The Ugly Mug: A great bar, with bar food, and a bar crowd. Most crowded around baseball games (not too far from Nationals stadium). This where my au pair and her au pair friends hang out (or the Hawk and Dove). I'm happy its there for her.
Stitch DC: An intimate store with the finest, most beautiful of yarns - cashmere, mohair - in the most gorgeous array of colors from heathered pinks to bright lemons. I once took a knitting class here - which resulted in 2 scarves before I retired from my knitting career.
This week, the Washington Post did a feature on the Eastern Market and Barracks Row districts of the neighborhood - both within walking distance of my house, and the locale of my most frequented haunts. Among the featured businesses were some of my favorites, and some not so much. Here's my take on the WaPo's take:
Acqua al 2: Looks and feels like Italy, especially in the spring and summer when the cafe tables are outside. The menu is authentic, if not pricey and fairly meat-centric. It just makes me want to be an Italian wino. An especially lovely ambiance.
Capitol Hill Books: Of course, I love book stores, and the more independent the better. But I'm scared of this one. In this 100+ year old 2-story rowhouse, the books are stacked everywhere, two deep, one-hundred high, and near collapse. Unfortunately, it feels like a claustrophobic firetrap to me. I understand its appeal, and I want to love it more.
Montmartre: My favorite petit French restaurant, and where I had the most gorgeous 40th birthday lunch - outside, alone, and completely content. It's also wonderful for a meal a deux. The article mentions Seventh Hill next door, and by the same owners, where Anthony seriously spins spins some serious pizza dough, and I sit at the counter taking it all in.
Peregrine: Amazing coffee, made with the care and respect it deserves. I so enjoy getting a real cappuccino with richly spun foam. The music tends to pulse a bit, and this together with free wireless, and fueled by the wired coffee, tends to give it a high greying hipster quotient. Sometimes, I feel a little uncool there, but still just cool enough to get it. And I always, always, always run into someone I know there.
Hill's Kitchen: My shop of kitchen bliss. I sometimes go in just to walk through and fondle the whisks and Peugeot pepper grinders. I always try to buy one little something, to support the shop. Leah, the owner, is barely 30, grew up in the neighborhood, and is somewhat of a local hero. Seriously, if I run into her at Tunnicliff's Tavern or Seventh Hill (as I have on several occaisons), she is surrounded by adoring kitchen junkies 10+ years her senior. Though I'm a huge fan, I never approach - it must be hard to be a local celebrity, I want her to be able to finish her beer in peace.
Ted's Bulletin: Diner-ish, comfort food with bar and a bakery. I generally like the vibe, but milkshakes and chicken-fired steak are not really my thing.
Belga Cafe: Real-life Belgian food. It came before and is more upscale and with a wider menu than the hip, but also delish Granville Moore's on H Street NE. I love the mussels and fries of course, but also their steak and the cool, savory tomato sorbet that melts its way into my salad. It's also where I greatly enjoy a perfect Delerium Tremens - my favorite Belgain ale.
The Fridge: Never been. Must, must, must check it out!
Lola's Barracks Bar and Grill: A younger crowd. I think I've only been once, but very glad to have it in the mix.
Homebody: I am a homebody, and I like any good home store. Homebody is just such a store, and I give it props just for that. But I've never bought anything here, the selection feels too limited to meet whatever it is I search that day. Lots of great stuff, but nothing for me to buy.
The Ugly Mug: A great bar, with bar food, and a bar crowd. Most crowded around baseball games (not too far from Nationals stadium). This where my au pair and her au pair friends hang out (or the Hawk and Dove). I'm happy its there for her.
Stitch DC: An intimate store with the finest, most beautiful of yarns - cashmere, mohair - in the most gorgeous array of colors from heathered pinks to bright lemons. I once took a knitting class here - which resulted in 2 scarves before I retired from my knitting career.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
DIPE brings out the skeptic in me...
For Actresses, Is a Big Appetite Part of the Show? Absolutely, bring on the Oscar for BEST DIPE (Documented Instance of Public Eating, a fantastic term coined by film publicist, Jeremy Walker). Essentially, actresses (or more accurately, their publicists) book interviews with journalists over lunch or dinner, and make a big display of ordering and eating and mentioning of their love for huge portions of highly caloric comfort food. The actresses are usually young, thin, and HOT.
Seems like a big racket to me. Eating with gusto suggests a large appetite for other things sensual, while dispelling any rumors of an eating disorder, and keeping her mouth conveniently full during those pesky, probing questions. A win-win-win, for the actress, at least. The rest of us get taken. I think it's shameless.
And the nominees are:
Drew Barrymore, in Harper's Bazaar: "I actually really love to lie in bed, watch TV, be a total sloth, and eat my favorite food: Kraft macaroni and cheese. Last night I was watching ‘The Next Food Network Star,’ eating mac and cheese, and feeling grand."
Mila Kunis, in Esquire: "This is a woman who, while watching ‘Super Size Me,’ had such a craving for McDonald’s, she had to pause the DVD in the middle and track down a Big Mac."
Padma Lakshmi, in Esquire: "I like the crispy, curly, crunchy, maple-coated, caramelized, blackened slowly kind of bacon on the back of a greasy grill at a five-dollar diner at 4:00 A.M."
Cate Blanchett, in Vogue: "Blanchett announces that she’s famished and orders salmon and spinach, adding at the last second a side of Parmesan fried courgettes to start. A suggestion that we split the courgettes is met with uncertainty. 'I think we’d each better get our own,' she says, 'or things could get ugly.'"
These skinny, beautiful women have got some lusty appetites. As for me, I'm not gonna bite.
Seems like a big racket to me. Eating with gusto suggests a large appetite for other things sensual, while dispelling any rumors of an eating disorder, and keeping her mouth conveniently full during those pesky, probing questions. A win-win-win, for the actress, at least. The rest of us get taken. I think it's shameless.
And the nominees are:
Drew Barrymore, in Harper's Bazaar: "I actually really love to lie in bed, watch TV, be a total sloth, and eat my favorite food: Kraft macaroni and cheese. Last night I was watching ‘The Next Food Network Star,’ eating mac and cheese, and feeling grand."
Mila Kunis, in Esquire: "This is a woman who, while watching ‘Super Size Me,’ had such a craving for McDonald’s, she had to pause the DVD in the middle and track down a Big Mac."
Padma Lakshmi, in Esquire: "I like the crispy, curly, crunchy, maple-coated, caramelized, blackened slowly kind of bacon on the back of a greasy grill at a five-dollar diner at 4:00 A.M."
Cate Blanchett, in Vogue: "Blanchett announces that she’s famished and orders salmon and spinach, adding at the last second a side of Parmesan fried courgettes to start. A suggestion that we split the courgettes is met with uncertainty. 'I think we’d each better get our own,' she says, 'or things could get ugly.'"
These skinny, beautiful women have got some lusty appetites. As for me, I'm not gonna bite.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Good morning, Sunday!
I woke up today around 7:30, as I usually do even when there is nothing to wake up to. No alarm. No kid padding into my room. And I am just lingering here in my bed. Relaxing. No rush on my day. I have my book and my laptop. I have checked in on my favorite people on Facebook. I have browsed the news - including and especially the food, style, and advice columns (including financial advice (Michelle Singletary, Washington Post), ethical advice (The Ethicist, New York Times), and relationship advice (Carolyn Hax, Washington Post)). Checked in on my favorite blogs (Hello, my dears!) The house is peaceful. I keep thinking about going to the kitchen for a cup of coffee to add to the bliss, and to aid in the slow wake-up process. However, ironically, that little enhancement also involves the necessity of leaving my little personal sanctuary.
I don't have that much longer in this moment. I will soon rise, pull up the shades and let the light pour into my room, go get that cup of coffee. I have early brunch plans. Things to do, people to see. Real life - and responsibilities - will beckon soon enough, and get increasingly louder. But this moment is marvelous. And the fact that it is not all that common, makes it more so cherished.
I don't have that much longer in this moment. I will soon rise, pull up the shades and let the light pour into my room, go get that cup of coffee. I have early brunch plans. Things to do, people to see. Real life - and responsibilities - will beckon soon enough, and get increasingly louder. But this moment is marvelous. And the fact that it is not all that common, makes it more so cherished.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Sounding the TAMPON ALARM!
For several months now, I've been wondering where the hell are the o.b. tampons? At first I thought it was my local CVS stock-out....then the CVS near work ran out...I found some at Safeway a month or so later, so assumed there must not be a real problem....then, I dipped into a back-up supply so I was good for another little while....I was able to buy some Lil'ets on my trip to London, so saved for another month. Then, as my reserves dwindled, I systematically began to seek my dear o.b.'s out. None at three CVS stores, none at Safeway, none at Giant, nor Rite Aid. Something was clearly up.
I began to hatch conspiracy theories. Maybe it's that younger women don't use them, and I'm just a dinosaur set in my old o.b. ways. Maybe it's some anti-feminist thing (my sis calls o.b.'s "radical tampons" because your actually have to touch yourself to insert the applicator-free tampon). Maybe the U.S. is getting more and more bizarre in it's "American-way" ways because o.b.'s applicator-free-type tampon is way more prevalent than in Europe. Maybe Kotex pushed them out in its latest re-branding (have you seen those sleek new black boxes?). And I recently began to freak out- I wasn't out of tampons yet, but I really didn't want to buy those plastic-y things or those stiff cardboard ones.
Well, I'm not the only one, and I'm not out of my mind. Through a quick Google search I learned that women all over the U.S are desperate to get their hands on o.b's - even bidding them up on Ebay $76 for three packs!
February 3, 2011: To our valued customers: We are pleased to confirm that o.b.® tampons are increasingly in-stock at more stores nation-wide as well as through on-line retailers such as:Amazon.com, drugstore.com, soap.com.
Supply may continue to vary in your area, however retailers who have received product include:
Acme, Albertsons, CVS, Cub, Duane Reade, Fred Meyer, Giant Eagle, Giant Food Stores, HE Butt, Jewel-Osco, Kroger, Lucky, Meijer, Publix, Rite Aid, Safeway, Sav-a-Lot, Shaw's/Star Markets, Shoppers, Shoprite, Inc., Stop & Shop, Target, Walgreens, Wal-Mart, Wegman's and other regional retailers.
Well, this may be so, but the shelf was bare at my Safeway tonight. I'm still not desperate yet. I've got until early March to find some before I totally panic.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
I [HEART] Nick Galifianakis
Nick Galifianakis is the marvelous, wry illustrator whose work accompanies Carolyn Hax's sage, sound advice everyday in the Washington Post. He has just published a new book of cartoons, If You Loved Me You'd Think This Was Cute: Uncomfortably True Cartoons About You.
I'm not laughing at me, I'm laughing with me....
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