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About Ramblings of a Hopeless Khowaga

Welcome to my Web site. My name is Chris, and I’ll be your host. I\'m an opinionated, snarky, gay academic with a predilection for the history, the Arab world, languages, photography, food, and music. I live in Austin, Texas. You can read more about me, learn 100 random things about me, and if you’re wondering what the heck a khowaga is, click here. Feel free to browse, read, and leave comments!

Tag: ‘english’



Morbid Newshound

Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009

For the past two days, I’ve been completely spellbound by the unfolding mystery of what happened to Air France 447.

There’s something of the locked-room mystery about the tale: passengers board a flight on a late autumn evening in Rio de Janeiro.  Among their numbers are the presidents of major corporations, doctors, lawyers, cabinet ministers, and, for a dash of complete exoticism, a handsome young prince, fourth in line to the Brazilian throne (never mind that the monarchy was abolished in the 1890s). The plane takes off, bound for Paris.  Dinner is served, the lights are dimmed.  Everything is routine.

Four hours into the flight, the plane passes over the northeastern coast of Brazil, heading for international waters.  The pilots report to Brazilian air traffic control that they’re passing out of their jurisdiction, and, as is usual when passing into an area that’s not covered by radar, they report the time that they expect to cross in to Senegalese airspace.  Some time later, the pilot reports thunderstorms and severe turbulence.  Then … nothing.  The plane never arrives in Senegalese airspace.  Calls fly back and forth between Recife and Dakar — no one can see the plane.  It never shows up on radar screens in Casablanca or Tolouse.  With the exception of a few automated messages received on a maintenance computer in Paris indicating that something has gone horribly, terribly wrong, the plane has, quite literally, disappeared.

There’s a compelling story in here, even if we try to fictionalize it.  But it’s not fiction, it really happened.  And, like lots of people everywhere, I want to know more.  Am I morbid?  Why?

There is, of course, the fear factor.  I’ve spent a good deal of time on airplanes, including ones that cross the ocean.  In less than a month, I’ll be flying transatlantic again–I’ve lost count, but I think this trip will be number 15 or 16.  I want to know what happened to AF 447 because I want some sort of reassurance that it’s not likely to happen on any flight I’m planning to take in the near future.

And then there’s the morbid part: what would it have been like to be on that plane?  *shivers*

For the past two days, I’ve spent a bit of time regularly checking updates as reported by the foreign media — back and forth between the Brazilian papers Folha do Sao Paolo and O Globo, the French newspaper Le Monde, and the message boards on Airliners.Net where polyglots helpfully translate articles in languages I can’t read.  (As a Spanish speaker, I find Portuguese easier to read than French … although clicking on the video clips that Globo has posted turned out to be pointless because, although I may be able to read Portuguese, I can’t understand the spoken language at all).

I’m also learning things about what the American press considers worthwhile.  One of the reasons why I had to break out the Spanish-Portuguese dictionary is that the English language media is doing a pretty bad job at updating the story regularly.  The Brazilian press reports every latest development, whereas BBC is running several hours behind, and CNN?  Fuggedaboutit.  Granted, it wasn’t a flight that came from the US, and there were other important goings on in the world yesterday (I refer, of course, to the Bruno/Eminem teabagging incident), but I still couldn’t help being a little snarky when I noticed that CNN became far more interested once it was known that two American citizens were on board.

Today, the world has caught up.  And the mystery is starting to clear, at least a little: although the aircraft would have run out of fuel a couple of hours after it missed its scheduled arrival time in Paris yesterday, it wasn’t until Brazil’s Minister of Defense announced that wreckage found in the Atlantic 700 miles northeast of Recife has been positively identified as belonging to Air France 447 that the media began using the word “crash.”

It’s a stunning tragedy — I feel a knot in my stomach whenever I see the images of relatives and friends arriving at the airports in Rio and Paris, trying to get more information.  They want what we all want: we want to know what happened. We want to find out it was quick.  We want to find out they didn’t know it was coming.  And we’re all pretty sure we’re wrong.

And I just can’t stop watching.

Summer Prep

Thursday, May 7th, 2009

I’ve been in denial for the past couple of weeks about the fact that we’re entering the hot season (we really only have two seasons here: hot and Hell).  Last weekend, however, I had to break down and ask Ray if we could turn on the air conditioning.  It’s really not that hot, but it’s been really rainy and the humidity is horrific.

I’m working on a presentation that I have to give next month, and, thanks to the advent of the InterWebz I can download PDF versions of articles from academic journals without leaving my office.  However, it became clear that there was a really useful book that lives only on the shelves of the HT section on the fourth floor of the Perry-Castañeda Library (how antiquated!).

And so, I had to revisit my summer preparation for crossing campus without acquiring massive sweat stains on my clothes.  It goes something like this:

1. Take the elevator down to the 1st floor and leave my building via the service entrance door in the back.

2. Depending on the level of heat and/or humidity, I can either cross the street and enter the rear of Parlin Hall or I can walk up the hill.  The stairs are on the outside of Parlin, so there’s not a huge advantage except that there’s air conditioning at the top of the incline.

3. Cross the South Mall and enter Batts Hall.  Batts Hall connects to Mezes Hall which connects to Benedict Hall.  There are internal stairs, but the air conditioning is extremely powerful.  BONUS POINTS if students are making out, sleeping, or crying in the stairwells.  EXTRA BONUS POINTS if the students making out are of the same sex, two or more students are spooning as they nap, or if it’s possible to determine without breaking stride why the student is crying.

4. Exit Benedict Hall through the rear door and take the footbridge across 21st Street to the Massive Concrete Monolith that is the UTC building.  Take escalator to ground level.  The escalator is external, but it’s an escalator and requires no physical effort on my part.

5. Walk the last few dozen meters to the entrance of the PCL.  Determine that books with call numbers prefixed HT are housed on the 4th floor and take elevator up.  Find desired book and spend some time investigating books filed next to it.  Find a couple others that might be useful.  One is in Arabic — most of it is in technical language that’s over my head, but the maps will be useful.

6.  Return to check-out area, transact with underpaid work-study student who identifies the language of my non-English book as “Islamic,” then attempts to scold me when I inform her that the book is “backwards” (checkout slips go in the front cover — on a book written in a right-to-left language the slip would, to the casual observer, appear at first glance to inside the back cover) by saying, “Well, maybe that’s the front to them.”  I consider pointing out that if I didn’t know that, I would have no reason to check the book out in the first place, but think better of it and leave.

7. Follow steps outlined above in reverse.  Return to office and discover that all books I checked out are completely useless.

So far, I’ve come up with similar plans for just about everywhere on campus I need to go.  It’s amazing the amount of air conditioning you can duck through ‘twixt here and there.

And, yeah … it’s Thursday :)

Readin’, Ritin’ and Revivin’

Tuesday, May 5th, 2009

There are some times that I am less OK living in Texas than others.  The passage of the state’s second Defense of Marriage Act was one of them.  I fear we’re coming up on another, and I feel like I should be able to do something about it, but I don’t know what.

It’s come to the attention of just about everyone that the State Board of Education has been taken over by a bunch of radical loonies.  These are the sorts of conservatives who make conservatives uncomfortable, and somehow they managed to take over the body that’s charged with revising and implementing educational standards at the K-12 level.  (Thank Bob it’s only K-12.)

This would be the same board chaired by a dentist (!) from College Station who came under fire shortly before the board’s final vote on revised science standards for endorsing a book that referred to supporters of evolution as “monsters,” “atheists,” and “morons.” I want to make it clear that the board currently leans in the direction that believes that if you ain’t their kind of Christian, you’re not a Christian at all.  (The fact that this is exactly the kind of logic that Osama bin Laden and his ilk use is the kind of irony that isn’t lost on me, but would be shot down as “totally different” were it brought to their attention.)

Earlier this year, a call went out for people to review the social studies standards.  As an historian who works with K-12 educators a lot in my line of work, I put my name in.  I didn’t get selected, and it didn’t take long enough to realize why.  I didn’t know that the SBOE member who represents my district had sent out an e-mail claiming that Obama was a terrorist sympathizer, and that an attack by said terrorists would take place in the first six months of his administration, followed by the implementation of martial law.  (Perhaps we should secede just in case?)

Clearly my passioned e-mail describing my committment to global competencies was a bad idea.

I know several people who did get appointed to the committees (two of them went with me to Egypt in 2005).  One of them, a University professor at a rival institution, was appointed to the economics review committee and managed to cause a horrific furor when he had the audacity to suggest that the term “free enterprise system” be replaced with “capitalism” in the standards.  “Capitalism,” after all, is what it’s called in every college textbook, and he thought that it would be appropriate for K-12 students to use the same terminology that they would use in college.  Why call the same thing two different names?

To say that this was received very badly would be an understatement.  As I was told later, when one of the SBOE members saw this proposed change, she stood up and screamed, “What kind of anti-American sonofabitch did this?  You should be ashamed!  I swear, whoever you are, if you were one of my appointments, you can consider yourself fired!”  (note: committee members are unpaid – it’s all volunteer work.)

My other friend wrote me to say that, while her committee was congenial, others were concerned that “too much attention” was being paid to the rest of the world at the expense of “our” history. Another friend told of how someone was appointed to her review committee–which was to oversee one of the years of world studies–whose sole purpose was to state over and over that he had moral objections to students studying other cultures.

For the record, Texas schoolchildren have two years of American history (grades 8 and 11), one year of government (grade 12), one full year of Texas history (grade 7), world cultures (6), world history (10), and world geography (9).  More than one board member has stated the desire to replace either the 9th or 10th grade course with a third year of American history, apparently being unaware that the 12th grade government course is entirely American history content.

It gets better.

After the first round of review committee meetings, the board cancelled the second round, apparently afraid that further anti-Americanism might ensue, so they’ve decided to appont an “expert panel” to guide the revision process.

First up?  David Barton and the Reverend Peter Marshall.

In his books and teachings, [David Barton] argues that separation of church and state is a myth and that America’s laws should be based solely on Biblical scriptures. His numerous claims include that the Bible forbids income and capitol gains Taxes. Barton’s views are so far right that even such groups as the Texas Baptists Committee and the Baptist Joint Committee have been vocal critics of his interpretations of history and the U.S. Constitution.

Even better: “Marshall has previously suggested that the California wildfires and Hurricane Katrina were divine punishments on society for the tolerance of homosexuality.”

TODAY comes the news that they’re considering LYNNE CHENEY for the expert panel.

Cheney is well-known for crusading against national history and social studies standards in the 1990s, calling the standards–which the National Endowment for the Humanities helped fund while Cheney was its chair–”grim and gloomy.” Cheney also denounced the standards as a monument to political correctness, claimed they gave insufficient attention to Confederate General Robert E. Lee and the Wright brothers and focusing far too much on figures like Harriet Tubman, and worried that they concentrated too much on embarrassing episodes in the nation’s history, such as the Ku Klux Klan and McCarthyism.

Outraged?  You should be.  The science standards revision made us uncomfortable by flirting with intelligent design–this will make us look like fools.  The next revision won’t happen for another decade, by which point our students will be the laughingstock of the country.

I still can’t tell what can be done about this twisted version of Evangelicals Gone Wild!  I’ve got half a dozen pleas in my inbox to help find real experts to testify before the SBOE, but it’s obvious they don’t care what people like us think.  If you live in Texas, write your state legislator–seriously.  The Lege is already moving to restrict the power of the SBOE after the science and English debacles.

I know that there’s probably very little that I can do about this … but I’ll feel better when it’s all over knowing I did what I could.

One way to keep up my foreign language skills …

Tuesday, March 3rd, 2009

Desktop

Suddenly, today, Facebook asked me if I speak Arabic.

It’s a bit disconcerting at first, but I’m a little out of practice reading, and, well, it kind of forces me to do so.  Right up until I get sick of it and switch it back into English :)

Interpersonal politics in the post-Facebook era

Wednesday, January 28th, 2009

I am not the first blogger that I know of to point this out, but I’m going to take my turn at expressing what is at best enthusiastic ambiguity toward the Web 2.0 phenomenon that is Facebook.

I’ve been on Facebook ever since I was pretty much forced to join at the spear end of peer pressure a couple of years ago.  “All your friends are doing it!  Everyone who’s anyone is on Facebook!  You can reconnect with old friends you haven’t heard from in years!”  Fine, I thought, and signed up.

There is, of course, the part where Facebook is a phenomenal waste of time.  You can literally spend hours trolling through status updates and a ridiculous number of applications that let you do stupid things online right out in public where all of your friends and acquaintances can see you do them.  Where’s the fun in that?  Isn’t the whole point of the Internet that you can do those stupid things anonymously?  (“Deep Space 9 fan fiction?  I don’t know what you’re talking about!”)

It’s like having grandparents who want to talk about your sex life in detail.  (“Honey, your grandpa and I were wondering: are you a top or a bottom?”)  If it’s not all private and shameful, where’s the fun?

I’ve been inundated recently with a ridiculous number of requests from “birthday applications.”

Let me take a moment to just vent about how much I loathe these things.  Various Web sites have offered this service for years: input all of your friends’ birthdays and we’ll send them a personalized birthday card (meaning: one with their name on it) on their birthday!  Some of them even offered a notification service where they send you a message to remind you that it’s your friend’s birthday so that when they thank you for the card, you don’t look at them blankly and ask “what card?”

Apparently some enterprising genius took this idea and created an application to read the birth date off of your friends’ Facebook profiles and do the same thing.  It’s like the Web site, only you don’t even have to put in their name and birthday!  How totally cool is that?!  Then someone else had the exact same idea.  By my rough count there are now approximately 900 trillion such applications on Facebook,* and no two people seem to be using the same one.

I sort of have a blanket refusal policy on application requests anyway–no, I do not want you to help save the Amazon rain forest by accepting an icon of a tulip, nor do I think that it’s going to do a thing for the people of Gaza if I install an application that plays the Palestinian national anthem every time my profile is accessed–and I’m not going to install a bunch different applications so that I can get an automatically generated message on my birthday.  (The catch, of course, is that you have to install the application if you want to collect your birthday greetings.)  Woo-freaking-hoo.  I’m not that big into birthdays in the first place.

Over the past couple of months, my graduating class from high school appears to have all discovered Facebook at the same time.  Well, that, and a couple of people have joined who’ve been really active in starting conversation that involve a number of us (yes, Sarah, I’m talking about you).  It’s completely surreal.  To say that I’m not the same person that I was in high school would be an understatement of the sort that can only be matched by statements like, “Ethiopian food is like Indian food, only different.”

To her credit, Sarah has been very good at tracking down obscure members of our high school class and suggesting them to other people as new friends.  My problem is that, so far, I don’t actually remember who any of these people are.  I mean, the name kind of sounds familiar, but … did we have English together senior year?  Did I even take English senior year?

Then, of course, there’s the even more embarrassing awkwardness that comes from sending friend requests to people that I do remember … who don’t accept them.  “Oh, my god.  The popular kid doesn’t want to be friends with me.  Why doesn’t he want to be friends with me?  What’s wrong with me?” It’s just like being back in high school again.  Which I guess is appropriate, considering that I’ve been talking to a bunch of people I know from high school.

The good thing is that now I’ve got something to talk about with my therapist this week :D

*this may be a slight exaggeration for comedic effect.

 

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