I realized yesterday that I haven't really recorded what it's like here...I'll put it on my to do list...it will be number #194,860,428. God I'm a psycho.
I just listened to an AWESOME interview with Moby on NPR. I think I'm in love. Well, re-in love. Remembering my in loveness. Whatever. He's so damn cool. He just released a new album "wait for me" and the clips they were playing were amazing. I can't wait to go home and give it a listen. And he did all the little cartoon drawings, too! So cute. AND he has a journal on his website. You all should give it a listen for sure - there are clips on his website. You won't regret it. jtlf particularly strikes me this afternoon.
Oh no...Alyssa, I'm sorry - I just used love three times in one paragraph...and yesterday was worse! Crap. Yell at me, please, if this becomes gross.
Moby was talking a bit about the Institute for Music and Neurologic Function. He was saying that there have been studies where music has been used to treat alzheimers and has actually halted the disease's progression. He also said something about people who were paralyzed being able to move around when certain music was played and when it stopped, they couldn't move their limbs again. Of course, the NIH doesn't recognize music therapy as a valid form of therapy. I mean, I guess I can understand it. It's been awhile since I've studied music therapy, but it seems like treatment would be so subjective and vary so much from person to person. Although I guess that's true with any form of therapy...hmm...
But it is incredible what an influence music can have even just on day to day tasks and moods. That's one of the things I miss about being at home - feeling comfortable enough to walk around with my Mp3 player on. It's like having a soundtrack to life and everything takes on different meanings and different energies. Sometimes I feel like I need to share a song or album with someone just so they can understand my mindset or mood at that time. Sometimes words don't do it or don't do it well enough.
I often play the "what if" game. Like what if I had gone to Clark U and studied psychology and followed the music therapy career path? Where would I be today? It's amazing how life can just twist and turn and throw curve balls. And then twist back again. I mean, much of my interest in post-conflict reconciliation is about the psychological aspects of it. What does it mean to reconcile? What does it mean to forgive? What is collective memory? How do practitioners in the field of transitional justice and post-conflict reconstruction take into account the variety of experiences that people have had, build on these experiences, and utilize the different skills, experiences, and memories that people have to work towards sustainable peace?
I love that I end all my posts with questions that I cannot answer. Oh god...is this another similarity with that blog which shall not be named??? Ack.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Monday, June 29, 2009
Drool
I love books. Love love love. And I have since...what age mom? Like 4? Who knows...For awhile I had aspects of my personality and behavior that I hid away out of embarrassment, thinking that people would think I was a nerd, dork, freak, loser, etc. Now, however, I do not care (for the most part) and I would be flattered if anyone called me those words (well...besides loser...).
To give you all an example of my dorkiness and absolute adoration of books, I have kept a journal of all the books I have read since fourth grade. I think I have lost portions of it - I kept it on my computer for awhile and then lost some files. But now, I keep a hard copy with title, author, page numbers, and dates I started and finished. I also write down any quotes that strike my fancy. I started doing this when I first moved to Walpole because I was determined to read every book in the Walpole Public Library's young adult section. That didn't last long. I went about it systematically and the first couple A-authored books sucked and I got discouraged. It's amazing - even today, I attack projects in a similar fashion and get peeved and ditch them. But anyway, books...
Last week my roommate took me to the Peace Corps office in Santo Domingo where they have a wall of discarded books from previous volunteers. Man oh man...I could have kissed him. It was like paradise! I had to physically restrain myself from taking too many and only brought three home - Jodi Picoult's Picture Perfect, Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth (per Naureen's recommendation - can't wait!), and something about a goat that is a novel about the Trujillo regime. Very exciting.
But today...oh today I am drooling over a different kind of literature. My boss was at a conference in Chile last week and came back with the Geneva Centre for Democratic Control of Armed Forces' Women in an Insecure World: Violence against Women, Facts, Figures and Analysis. While it's a bit dated (2005), it is simply a beautiful publication - not the subject matter, clearly, but the actual book. The weight of it, the feel of the pages, the pictures. Wow. The smell leaves something to be desired, but we will leave that aside. It's one of those publications that you don't want to open all the way for fear of bending the cover. I want to make one.
Despite reneging on my commitment to widows for my thesis, I, of course, had to look at the "Women in Mourning" section. And it's these statistics that make me want to reconsider my decision to change topics: in Bosnia-Herzegovina 92% of persons missing in relation to the armed conflict are men; in relation to the armed conflict in Kosovo this figure it 90%. The majority of these missing men were not members of the armed forces or armed groups, but civilians. Imagine losing all the male members of your family between the ages of 15 and 65 years and having no idea what happened to them...
I fill my head with information like this all the time, but the reality is that I have no idea what it would be like to experience any of the things I read about. I can't imagine losing someone close to me at all, let alone in a situation in conflict. Hell, I can't imagine living in conflict situation. But then to lose someone, to not know what happened to them, to be alone, to be displaced, to be threatened by violence...It's unimaginable I suppose.
And sometimes I worry that my own lackof experience of these things, particularly just the experience of being in a conflict situation, hinders my ability to truly understand. I can read and read and read, but I really don't have any clue what it would mean to go through a trauma and then try to "reconcile" with whoever has killed or disappeared or raped or...any number of things...me, my family, my friends, my community, my country. I know I am very very very lucky in so many ways. And I certainly do not wish to experience conflict (well maybe a little...) or trauma, but I do wonder about my place as an "outsider" trying to understand and "help". I don't have any answers and I know that these are questions that many academics and practitioners grapple with on a daily basis.
Ok that's it for the rambling. Back to my secondhand information gathering and reading this beautiful publication...ahhhhhh....
To give you all an example of my dorkiness and absolute adoration of books, I have kept a journal of all the books I have read since fourth grade. I think I have lost portions of it - I kept it on my computer for awhile and then lost some files. But now, I keep a hard copy with title, author, page numbers, and dates I started and finished. I also write down any quotes that strike my fancy. I started doing this when I first moved to Walpole because I was determined to read every book in the Walpole Public Library's young adult section. That didn't last long. I went about it systematically and the first couple A-authored books sucked and I got discouraged. It's amazing - even today, I attack projects in a similar fashion and get peeved and ditch them. But anyway, books...
Last week my roommate took me to the Peace Corps office in Santo Domingo where they have a wall of discarded books from previous volunteers. Man oh man...I could have kissed him. It was like paradise! I had to physically restrain myself from taking too many and only brought three home - Jodi Picoult's Picture Perfect, Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth (per Naureen's recommendation - can't wait!), and something about a goat that is a novel about the Trujillo regime. Very exciting.
But today...oh today I am drooling over a different kind of literature. My boss was at a conference in Chile last week and came back with the Geneva Centre for Democratic Control of Armed Forces' Women in an Insecure World: Violence against Women, Facts, Figures and Analysis. While it's a bit dated (2005), it is simply a beautiful publication - not the subject matter, clearly, but the actual book. The weight of it, the feel of the pages, the pictures. Wow. The smell leaves something to be desired, but we will leave that aside. It's one of those publications that you don't want to open all the way for fear of bending the cover. I want to make one.
Despite reneging on my commitment to widows for my thesis, I, of course, had to look at the "Women in Mourning" section. And it's these statistics that make me want to reconsider my decision to change topics: in Bosnia-Herzegovina 92% of persons missing in relation to the armed conflict are men; in relation to the armed conflict in Kosovo this figure it 90%. The majority of these missing men were not members of the armed forces or armed groups, but civilians. Imagine losing all the male members of your family between the ages of 15 and 65 years and having no idea what happened to them...
I fill my head with information like this all the time, but the reality is that I have no idea what it would be like to experience any of the things I read about. I can't imagine losing someone close to me at all, let alone in a situation in conflict. Hell, I can't imagine living in conflict situation. But then to lose someone, to not know what happened to them, to be alone, to be displaced, to be threatened by violence...It's unimaginable I suppose.
And sometimes I worry that my own lackof experience of these things, particularly just the experience of being in a conflict situation, hinders my ability to truly understand. I can read and read and read, but I really don't have any clue what it would mean to go through a trauma and then try to "reconcile" with whoever has killed or disappeared or raped or...any number of things...me, my family, my friends, my community, my country. I know I am very very very lucky in so many ways. And I certainly do not wish to experience conflict (well maybe a little...) or trauma, but I do wonder about my place as an "outsider" trying to understand and "help". I don't have any answers and I know that these are questions that many academics and practitioners grapple with on a daily basis.
Ok that's it for the rambling. Back to my secondhand information gathering and reading this beautiful publication...ahhhhhh....
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Suddenly I See
What a lovely day and weekend! Sometimes alone/quiet time is just so nice. I remember going bonkers at the nunnery in Geneva when I didn't feel like I was ever alone and then finding this place in Neuchatel on top of a roof of some building where I was completely alone for about 10 minutes and those 10 minutes were just heavenly. I love people, really, I do. But sometimes, it is oh so nice to be alone. Likewise, while I love the people that I have met here (for the most part), being mostly alone this weekend was a much much needed break. Jamming out to some Paul Simon and Ani and other random stuff. Singing my heart out when no one could hear...love it!
So today, after freaking out about my thesis for awhile (what's new?), my roommate, Sandra, and I went out to Santo Domingo's Botantical Garden. She is equally obsessed with orchids, so it was a good time. We took the train around to see various parts of the garden, stopping in the Japanese part for a bit. There was the most incredible tree there...it was kind of like that tree that was in the middle of Odysseus and Penelope's house in the TV version of the Odyssey, or that's the way I remember it anyway. I took about 100 pictures of orchids...I will refrain from posting them all...but my god. Life is so good when surrounded by orchids. And it was so nice too because there were tons of Dominican families out enjoying the gardens and children running around and whatnot. Lovely. Next post will have more pictures - I'm really struggling with the formatting of putting pics on the blog thing. Tips?
When I was going through my pics, I was thinking about how I tend to take the same shots. For comparison: Loving the fl
owers 2009 and then me with some trumpet vine flowers in Budapest in 2006. Hello flower obsession.
So today, after freaking out about my thesis for awhile (what's new?), my roommate, Sandra, and I went out to Santo Domingo's Botantical Garden. She is equally obsessed with orchids, so it was a good time. We took the train around to see various parts of the garden, stopping in the Japanese part for a bit. There was the most incredible tree there...it was kind of like that tree that was in the middle of Odysseus and Penelope's house in the TV version of the Odyssey, or that's the way I remember it anyway. I took about 100 pictures of orchids...I will refrain from posting them all...but my god. Life is so good when surrounded by orchids. And it was so nice too because there were tons of Dominican families out enjoying the gardens and children running around and whatnot. Lovely. Next post will have more pictures - I'm really struggling with the formatting of putting pics on the blog thing. Tips?
When I was going through my pics, I was thinking about how I tend to take the same shots. For comparison: Loving the fl
owers 2009 and then me with some trumpet vine flowers in Budapest in 2006. Hello flower obsession.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Pictures!
Top right: two of my roomies and me.Middle right: One of many incredibly crazy trees...I'm obsessed...
Bottom right another crazy tree growth thing.
Gotta love my follow through. I create a blog and three weeks later I'm ready to actually begin writing. Honestly, I have really strayed from myself in the last three weeks and lost sight of the things that matter to me. It's time to get back on track. I mean it's always fun to mix it up a little, but not when there are resulting negative consequences. Holy vagueness. Whatever. Moving on...
So yeah, these last three weeks have been crazy in a number of ways. I need to be better about recording the absurdities of trying to negotiate your way around a country where the language is still hazy. For instance, today, I have the house mostly to myself as everyone is at the beach celebrating our roommate's going away party. But the housekeeper is here. I already have a complex about having a housekeeper in the first place. It makes me feel like a spoiled child. Yes, let me sit here while you clean up after me and my other privileged roommates. I'll sit here and do "work" meaning reading and typing. It's just very strange to me. I think the housekeeper has taken a shine to me though, despite the fact that I have a very hard time understanding her. I think she might have asked me for money earlier today? And then she gestured to her arm - like for a shot? Heroin? I have no idea. So then she started gesturing to my hair and she asked if I had a boyfriend (not sure what that had to do with my hair...) and then she basically ripped my hair out of its ponytail and started twisting (pulling) it. I think then she was saying that people do that at Boca Chica and that I could pay her to do it or something. Who knows. Awkward me out forever! So I went back to my transitional justice article...ha.
It looks like instead of just being here until the end of July, I will actually be here until like mid-October. My boss is leaving at the end of July and the consultant who will be replacing her is coming October 1, so they need someone to cover the department and they offered me the job. I hope my jaw didn't physically hit the ground during the meeting where this happened, but that's how I still feel. I mean, I understand that it is largely the result of timing - I'm in the right place at the right time, but what an opportunity! I feel very lucky. So, I will have to take a semester off of school, but I think that this could be an amazing chance to widen my contacts, prove myself, and really open up some career opportunities. Also, I might be able to get published! Wow. I don't know if I take myself seriously enough to get published, but we'll see...when will I start thinking of myself as an adult, an intelligent adult who has things to contribute to the field I'm interested in? I maintain that I am still a teenager, my thoughts are still percolating, and I need to sit back and learn. Perhaps this experience will change that.
Even before I was offered this position, I started thinking that I should change my thesis topic. I've had misgivings for awhile now and it's just not changing. I was talking with my fabulous roommate about it and she was helping me brainstorm and think things through and she sees the disconnect in what I was doing as well. Widows and transitional justice - but why? How? It just doesn't fit. And my professors certainly aren't stepping up to help me out. I am going to try to formulate something about transitional justice and gender so that I can use my time at INSTRAW to work on my thesis. We'll see! That's what today is about - me time and thesis-ness. Getting my head back on my shoulders.
Ok, holy serious post. Jesus. This is not what I intended. I will post pictures now and hopefully get back to my lighthearted self in a couple days.
So yeah, these last three weeks have been crazy in a number of ways. I need to be better about recording the absurdities of trying to negotiate your way around a country where the language is still hazy. For instance, today, I have the house mostly to myself as everyone is at the beach celebrating our roommate's going away party. But the housekeeper is here. I already have a complex about having a housekeeper in the first place. It makes me feel like a spoiled child. Yes, let me sit here while you clean up after me and my other privileged roommates. I'll sit here and do "work" meaning reading and typing. It's just very strange to me. I think the housekeeper has taken a shine to me though, despite the fact that I have a very hard time understanding her. I think she might have asked me for money earlier today? And then she gestured to her arm - like for a shot? Heroin? I have no idea. So then she started gesturing to my hair and she asked if I had a boyfriend (not sure what that had to do with my hair...) and then she basically ripped my hair out of its ponytail and started twisting (pulling) it. I think then she was saying that people do that at Boca Chica and that I could pay her to do it or something. Who knows. Awkward me out forever! So I went back to my transitional justice article...ha.
It looks like instead of just being here until the end of July, I will actually be here until like mid-October. My boss is leaving at the end of July and the consultant who will be replacing her is coming October 1, so they need someone to cover the department and they offered me the job. I hope my jaw didn't physically hit the ground during the meeting where this happened, but that's how I still feel. I mean, I understand that it is largely the result of timing - I'm in the right place at the right time, but what an opportunity! I feel very lucky. So, I will have to take a semester off of school, but I think that this could be an amazing chance to widen my contacts, prove myself, and really open up some career opportunities. Also, I might be able to get published! Wow. I don't know if I take myself seriously enough to get published, but we'll see...when will I start thinking of myself as an adult, an intelligent adult who has things to contribute to the field I'm interested in? I maintain that I am still a teenager, my thoughts are still percolating, and I need to sit back and learn. Perhaps this experience will change that.
Even before I was offered this position, I started thinking that I should change my thesis topic. I've had misgivings for awhile now and it's just not changing. I was talking with my fabulous roommate about it and she was helping me brainstorm and think things through and she sees the disconnect in what I was doing as well. Widows and transitional justice - but why? How? It just doesn't fit. And my professors certainly aren't stepping up to help me out. I am going to try to formulate something about transitional justice and gender so that I can use my time at INSTRAW to work on my thesis. We'll see! That's what today is about - me time and thesis-ness. Getting my head back on my shoulders.
Ok, holy serious post. Jesus. This is not what I intended. I will post pictures now and hopefully get back to my lighthearted self in a couple days.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Inspired by some of my Fletcher peers and realizing that I write the same details in emails to different people on a regular basis, I have decided to start a blog to record my (brief) time in the Dominican Republic. I'm here for two months doing an internship with the UN International Research and Training Institute on the Advancement of Women (UN-INSTRAW). I'm working in the gender, peace security department, mainly looking at the implementation of UN Resolution 1325.
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