Carry That Weight

Dobby Dobson was born in Kingston, Jamaica in 1942 and has been cutting records for almost forty years. His cover of "Carry That Weight" will make any "Top Covers of The Beatles" list. Easily. I hope y'all enjoy it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PYfuWTj9pFU

Applied Lessons

This is video from the future showing my good friend Scott and I practicing what we learned in New British Voices after I getting yoked at Gregory.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKfxAUFo7xo&feature=player_embedded

Harrods and women in Burqa

Yesterday I went to Harrods before the Olympics Volleyball game and ended up splurging a little bit in the make up-section (no regrets), but while I was there, I noticed something interesting: Several muslim women, complete with traditional burqa — I don't know if it is still called burqa if it doesn't covers the face. They were dressed in those long, long sleeved black dressed that reveal nothing of their body, and their hairs were completely covered as well — paraded around the department store, modeling their brand glasses and bland handbags. That is all one could see of them, but I bet most of those women were wearing little Channel and Prada dresses underneath their burqas.

I thought those women, your average "posh" muslim women going about their businesses, were interesting because they are supposed to live separated from the word of men, yet they are still every bit as vain as I, dressed in a skirt that reveals my knees (Scandalous!). They still freak out about Louboutin shoes and McQueen dresses, they go into little splurging sprees inside the make-up department, same as me.  I other words, doesn't matter how their religions tries to surpress them, women will be women.

And maybe my surprise is do to the fact that you don't really see a lot of "posh"muslim girls in a daily basis, at least not in English, because most of the muslim population in England is impoverished, but I just thought that it was a wonderful thing that even under the constrain of their cultures and religions, those girls I saw at Harrods look the time to look themselves in the mirror and see beauty.

Aside: That made me remember of a scene in Sex and The City...  Not my favorite movies, but the way they managed to kind of explain muslim culture in 30 seconds (and the woman in burqa eating fries, which is something I had never pictured before) was really interesting...

Kebab Craziness

I love street food. I am unafraid of the potential gastro-intestinal consequences of its consumption and often rate it over haughtier, "finer" cuisine. It's also dirt cheep. Naturally then I made it my duty soon after settling in  at Oxford to map the best food carts and street vendors in town.

I spent many a night and early morning hiking (or swaying) in every cardinal direction looking for new roadside restaurants. Hundreds of pounds, tens of miles, and one wacky prostitute encounter later I've made some interesting discoveries:

First: The inverse price-taste principle* still holds up even abroad in a socialist country.

Second: The best food carts are actually in or close to the city center, waiting to poach the loose pockets of drunk Spaniards coming back from the club district.

Thirdly: The only radio station that plays into the wee hours of the night stacks its playlist with the best of the best 80's pop female vocalists.

Lastly: Every street food vendor in town is a kebab joint run by bilingual immigrants from some Muslim Mediterranean country. Seriously, I couldn't find cart run by another ethnicity.

A personal hero of mine Anthony Bourdain considers a country's street food to be a window into its soul. I can tell you that the English fascination with lamb, kebabs, and doners is not isolated to just Oxfordshire. Now what does that say about England?


*The less it costs, the better it tastes!

Sessions with Schulze 1

First off I would like to apologize for making my readership wait with baited breath for so long before releasing this first session with Schulze. I hope you will still find the time to read through my report and post any comments y'all might have. I will shoot any particularly interesting remarks back to my source and hopefully a productive dialogue will emerge.

Secondly, I would like to thank my good friends Matt, Scott, and Kerry for the hospitality they showed me during my visit to Newcastle. If this post seems a bit brief, it is because they were more enthusiastic in welcoming up North than participating in potentially controversial political discourse.

This post is my summary of their collective beliefs and is not in any way representative of my own. Now you have no excuse for being overly nasty in your comments.

The Newcastlers are not ignorant or bigoted in any way, in fact two of them are going through a Master's program in education currently with the goal of becoming secondary school teachers. I preface my report with this statement because their views, I suspect, will run very contrary to that of my classmates. They do not hold any prejudiced attitudes towards non-English people, in fact recognizing most gratefully the contributions immigrants can make to British society overall, but that does not stop them from positing some concerns about the recent trend in surging immigrant numbers. They are not concerned with losing jobs or moral erosion or whatever jazz colors the immigration debate in America. No, their concern is anchored to the concept of cultural preservation.

Now I know it seems like the height of hypocrisy for the British of all people to be concerned with the preservation of British culture. These are the very people which conquered numerous peoples and led to the purging of an untold amount of cultural practice and knowledge around the world. However, denying the modern British access to a concern shared by numerous peoples is unjust.

England, unlike America with its Melting Pot persona, has for nearly all of its modern and not-so-modern history been a nation-state, that is a political entity populated by a particular ethnic group. England was the home of the Anglo-Saxons. Anything popularly portrayed as "English" such as commonwealth law, the House of Windsor, cricket, etc. was invented by these pale, proud, German orphans. This single population group accounted for 95+% of the total demography of England until the mid-20th century. That's when the sons and daughters of the Mother Country started knocking and coming "home" shortly followed by everyone else as Globalization shrunk the world.

Now as I mentioned before my friends are perfectly cool with immigrants coming over, kicking their feet up, queuing up for the NHS, whatever. Heck, some of their best friends are not English. However, according to some recent reports (EDIT: I never bothered to corroborate their facts and figures) the population of recent immigrants is set to overtake the English sometime in the next century. Anglo-Saxons will no longer be the dominant ethnic group and a hefty chunk of the population will only be first or second generation English subjects. The possibility that England would no longer be the home of the English and that proper English culture might be tangibly influenced by their new fellow citizens could become a reality. An England without "real English." This is what concerns them.

Now when other peoples begin to lose their homeland or the practices which define their particular culture it is the common liberal artsy response to jump to their aid. Free Tibet! I Yield for Kurds! A Place Called Oaxaca Actually Exists and It Needs Your Help! My friends have little faith that anybody will ever sympathize with their supposed plight. This immigrant population trend cannot be interrupted without radical and unethical action or the election of a BNP government, impossibilities all because of the afore mentioned up right nature of my friends. Unfortunately, not everyone in England shares their temperament. Supposedly we will all be alive to see how it plays out.

*I know I've used the terms English and British somewhat loosely in this post. Deal with it.

A Song We All Know

Oh yes. Punjabi MC - Mundian To Bach Ke. 1998. Produced in England by a British-Indian artist. Doesn't get much better than that.

If you've ever seen a show with an Indian character or setting on screen, you've probably heard this song before, because they use it all the time in Western cinema and television for just such things. You could certainly say that it's become the stereotypical "Indian" song for Western film. I'm not entirely sure why. I speculate that it has to do with the catchy beat, the upbeat, yet distinctively "Indian" sound, and the really awesome semi-rap thing that's going on.

But the other day I was looking for it because I really wanted to listen to the song all the way through (I'd never done it before), and as I was looking at the lyrics websites and whatnot, I realized I had no earthly idea what the song actually meant in English. 

So naturally, I looked it up.

And I was little bit surprised. 

KEEP YOR FACE DOWN AND HIDE IT WITH A SCARF
DON'T JUST GIVE YOUR LOVE TO ANYONE

CHORUS
BE CAREFUL OF THE BOYS
YOU'VE ONLY JUST GROWN UP
IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT THAT YOU'VE GOT BEAUTIFUL EYES
ONCE YOU'VE REALISED THIS YOU WILL BECOME SHY
LOOK AFTER YOUR YOUTH
THIS TIME WON'T COME AGAIN 

CHORUS REPEATS

AS YOU ARE GROWING UP PEOPLE ARE BECOMING AWARE OF YOUR GOOD LOOKS
EVERYONE IS LOOKING AT YOUR THIN WAIST
THERES NO ONE LIKE YOU

CHORUS 

THE BOYS ARE TALKING ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY
THE STREETS ARE FULL OF STORIES ABOUT YOUR LOOKS
DON'T LET THE ATTENTION DROWN YOU. 

CHORUS

Basically it's a song warning a young girl about maintaining her modesty because the boys are watching her and creating a reputation for her simply because she's beautiful. Not exactly as happy as I expected it to be. And it sort of made me feel uncomfortable as a younger girl, even though I'm not part of the culture, and it's not 1998. It's still a strange message to devote an entire song to, and even stranger still that it's become so wildly popular across the Western world.

But I must confess, I still think it's fun to listen to.

It's not like things are black and white.

In this course we discuss the voices of British immigrant minorities. One aspect of this immigrant community that we have yet to discuss and probably won't be able to due to time is the tension between different minority groups. I'm not sure what the status of this issue is in London, but in other cities around the world it is prevalent. One salient example is Los Angeles. This diverse city is known for its racial tensions, not just between the white and ethnic populations, but also inside of the latter.

The 2004 film Crash, directed by Paul Haggis, explores this subject in depth. Part of the film focuses on the the six degrees of separation concept, but more interesting is the way it conveys tensions between different ethnic groups. The tagline of the film is "it''s not like things are black and white." Haggis demonstrates this by including African Americans, Persians, and Hispanics to name a few. It's a really moving film, and I highly recommend it if you haven't seen it. It's definitely one of my favorites. It won three oscars including Best Motion Picture. 

Here is one of the most emotional scenes from the film. The Persian man who approaches with a gun has just had his store burglarized. He blames the Hispanic man for not properly changing the locks. (there is more to this specific story, but this is a decently summary) 

THERE MAY BE OIL!

"The Indian smiles, he thinks that the cowboy is his friend. The cowboy smiles, he is glad the Indian is fooled. Now he can exploit him." These grim words define the political mindset that dominates Gang of Four's songwriting. Formed in 1977 by a group of students in Leeds, Gang of Four instantly became a defining force in the landscape of English post-punk music. The group's sound is a din of dub-inspired bass guitar, bombastic drums, and feedback-driven stabs of guitar all simmering underneath lyrics exhibiting decidedly Marxist political slants and criticism of the English government. The band's leftist views and innovative sounds made them a fearsome force in English music and led the punk scene in a direction that emboldened younger bands to speak out against the government in new ways.

After recently being asked to ponder various post-colonial interpretations of The Tempest, my interest in Gang of Four came surging back. The band frequently casts its critical gaze on the actions of the English government and begs the listener to wrestle with the injustices that it condones. On Ether, the rousing opening track of their masterpiece, entertainment!, Gang of Four draws attention to the injustices committed at the Long Kesh Detention Center in Ireland. During the 70's, England detained nearly 500 Irish citizens believed to be a part of the IRA and kept them against their will. The track analyzes the strangeness of England acting as an invasive force in Ireland even though they are technically both parts of the UK.

The final section of the song:
Dig at the root of the problem (Fly the flag on foreign soil)
It breaks your new dreams daily (H-block Long Kesh)
Fathers contradictions (Censor six counties news)
And breaks your new dreams daily (each day more deaths)


Gang of Four views the English presence in Ireland as a holdover from their destructively oppressive time as a colonial power. Ironically though, they are trying to colonize a part of their own country. The song ends with a rousing chorus of "There may be oil! Under Rockall!," a reference to England's attempts to lay claim to Rockall, a tiny rock off the coast of Ireland that couldn't even fit one person. Claiming that oil lies just underneath the rock gives England an excuse to claim another body of land for their fading Empire, never mind that it's totally inconsequential. The band equates the claiming of a worthless landmark to England's unnecessary oppression of Irish citizens. The country stands to gain little to nothing from acquiring Rockall just as it stands to lose nothing from giving the Irish freedom... at least according to a group of politically revolutionary punk rockers.

East London Adventures

Yesterday, I went into London to visit a childhood friend of mine who goes to the London School of Economics. She's currently living in a house  in East London in what she described as "the dodgier side of town". Going there was interesting because it seemed to continue the theme of visiting the "real" part of town.. A striking feature was that as we walked from the tube station to her place, there were people just loitering on the street.

There were several aspects to my visit that tied in directly with our class. One thing was that the people who were at her house seemed to be an interesting representation of the diversity within the city and LSE: there was my friend (who is American, with an Indian heritage), one of her flat-mates who is from Northern Ireland, another one of her flatmates who is German, another of her flatmates who is Chinese, a friend of hers who is Indian, and another friend who was from Malaysia.

Also, the neighborhood, as my friend told me, was primarily Bangladeshi. It was kind of funny to see the way in which my friend and her flatmates' culture interacted with that of the Bangladeshi culture. For example, we had the window open, and her flatmate began complaining that he could smell the curry being cooked. (It smelled really good). There was also apparently somewhere nearby a "Ramadan Special" where you could get 50 wings for 5 pounds that they kept daring each other to get.

And one final thing ties into the idea of assimilation. My friend-- who was born and raised in Texas and has only spent two years in London-- has adopted an English accent! It was very strange to hear her talking so differently, but also quite interesting that in just that short amount of time there was that drastic of a change.

Attack the Block

Under the unsuspecting guise of a schlocky horror movie, Attack the Block serves as a strikingly profound commentary on the nature of race relations and cultural homogeneity in modern England. Set amidst the backdrop of low income housing known as the "Block" in London, the movie exhibits a sly sense of humor that allows the director to present a unique look at the misunderstood youth culture of urban London. The movie follows Moses (Lonely Londoners anyone?), a young black teenager, and his improvised gang of friends as they defend the Block from alien invaders that threaten to destroy their homes. The aliens prove to be surprisingly memorable creatures: ape-like and eyeless with only a row of neon fangs to reveal their presence. In a particularly excellent scene, the children stand over an aliens corpse and marvel at how "black" it is, like staring into the void of space, the creatures have the consistency of ink and feel suitably foreign.

Throughout the film, Moses and his friends are continually persecuted for their use of slang. People immediately assume the worst from their crew due to the sense of otherness exhibited by their speech but this shared language bonds them to one another in powerful ways. The group is made up of both black and white children, many from stable and caring households. But still they all engage in delinquent activities like smoking marijuana in an effort to ply themselves to images of power otherwise inaccessible from their working-class status. At the beginning of the movie, we see the group mug an unsuspecting white woman who is later revealed to be a citizen of the Block. After the aliens begin invading, they cross paths once again and the children reveal that the mugging had only occurred because they believed the woman to be a wealthier white woman who had no need for her belongings. Her affiliation with the Block changes everything in the eyes of the children and she is immediately accepted as a friend.

Much of the movie feels reminiscent of The Riots. Attack the Block has an unshakable devotion to tell the unspoken side of the story of racial conflict in urban England. The children all speak in an accent that blends cockney and Caribbean inflections as well as frequent references to in-jokes regarding youth culture to special kind of speech just for the Block. The naturalistic dialogue feels fresh and believable throughout the movie and often feels comparable to the Lonely Londoners, with the careful inclusion of unique accents and terms. As a result, characters that could easily feel cliche instead feel vital and alive. Their quirks and senses of humor all shine through their fantastically unique speech. Critically, their style of speech is not exclusive to a single racial group. The children all employ the mode of speech in attempt to create an aloof coolness separate from their lives in relative poverty. Unfortunately, American distributors seemed to miss the point of the slang entirely and opted to include subtitles for the movie in certain markets. The film takes dialogue that might seem unpleasant or difficult for some viewers to enjoy and presents it as pridefully unique and capable of wielding impressive power. Also notable, is the one white child led by Moses thorough the movie who exists as a vital part of an otherwise completely black crew.  No one ever seems to make anything of this in the movie, he's just another kid who talks funny.

                                                                          TRAILER

Nando's and South Africa

Last night, I had dinner at Nando's, a delicious restaurant that serves varied chicken and burger dishes. Being that it was not really an international cuisine I was surprised to find that the menu cover artwork was done by a South African painter called Marlise Keith:

Upon further inspection I discovered that Nando's does different menu covers with different artwork from South African artists. They have been supporting their art since 2002 and it has become a signature part of their company not only in their menus but in their walls and decorations.

I did some more research on it and found some really interesting things on their website. Apparently, they hold the largest collection of South African artwork outside of South Africa.

One particular work that caught my attention and is very relevant to this course is called Coming to the City. It is a huge mosaic placed in  of Nando's King Cross location in London. Made by Clive van de Berg it is a representation of "the experiences of the many thousands of people that have journeyed to London." Here is the link to the project's webpage where you can see the full mosaic in detail:

http://www.nandos.co.uk/comingtothecity/

Red Baraat--Bhagra Funk Dhol 'n' Brass Band

 

While in Germany this weekend I happened upon a huge crowd surrounding a band on stage in a Nuremberg city square.  The sound was interesting and I wanted to see what everyone was screaming and dancing around about.  I had come across the band named Red Baraat. They are considered a Bhangra Funk band.  The word Dhol is the type of drum they play and the brass refers to the regular brass instruments such as trumpet and tuba.  The band was pretty great and the Germans seemed to really enjoy them!  

Here is a blurb from their website:

"In just three short years, the pioneering Brooklyn dhol ‘n’ brass party juggernaut Red Baraat have made a name for themselves as one of the best live bands playing anywhere in the world. Led by dhol player Sunny Jain, the nine piece comprised of dhol (double-sided barrel shaped North Indian drum slung over one shoulder) drumset, percussion, sousaphone and five horns, melds the infectious North Indian rhythm Bhangra with a host of sounds, namely funk, go-go, latin, and jazz. Simply put, Sunny Jain and Red Baraat have created and defined a sound entirely their own."

Here is the website where you can find out more about them and listen to some of their music if you'd like: 

http://www.redbaraat.com/news.html

Red Baraat at Montreal International Jazz Festival:

P.S.: The sound was better outside when I saw them than in this video.

Future Blog Suggestions

Doggies increase the readership of these posts.

What to do?  What to do?
We've covered a lot of ground on the blog--some of it surprising.  What's left to talk about?  Here are some suggestions.
You could do a little research and report on it--maybe of a single country and their colonial experience and why/when folks started "coming home" to England.  Nigeria, Kenya, Zimbabwe, India. Pakistan, Bangladesh, etc.
You could look for some blogs that cover the Black and Brown Brit/European experience and inform us about/ link us to those blogs.
Maybe someone thought of my suggestions for seeing Ireland/ Scotland as colonial/postcolonial nations.
Look for brown subcultural phenomena and inform us.
Comment on the suggestions for further reading/viewing, with your own suggestions--someone mentioned Attack the Block, for instance.
Do some research on contemporary theater and some black playwright/ practitioners.  Kwame Kwei Armah would be a good place to start.
Music.  Food.  Chance encounters.  More Music.  Etc.

If you have an A for blogging, maybe best to leave some of these post topics for some folks who need to catch up--you can always comment on new posts.  Maybe by the weekend the goal will simply be to enhance the quality of the blog.  You could also make other suggestions for blog posts here.

The Queen @ Olympics

Thought this meme was kind of appropriate for our blog, since we've been talking a lot about Post-Colonialism

London - The International City

Wow. What an amazing Opening Ceremony to the 2012 Olympics!

They covered British history and influence while highlighting many of the nation's true tokens. My favorite part was the constantly flowing history lesson. Apart from the amazing set design, something about the actors struck me. During the Industrial Revolution section many of the businessmen were running around in top hats. Did anybody else notice that some of these men were of Southeast Asian or African decent? Something tells me that kind of diversity wasn't present in the 1750s. The ceremony continued with various ethnicities seen in presentations of music and culture of the Great Britain, and of course, culminated with the welcoming of 204 nations from around the globe. All of this made me think of a BBC statement from the pre-ceremony broadcast. The tour guide of London noted that the city is now home to over 300 language groups. At that point I realized London truly is the international city of the 21st century. Not Paris, not even New York, though I consider both to be contenders. There is a reason that London beat out these cities for the 2012 bid.

The overall ceremony reminded me of this course. When the Bangladesh athletes entered the stadium, I thought of Brick Lane. When Jamaica and other caribbean nations entered I thought of The Lonely Londoners. The United Kingdom doesn't exactly have the best history of bringing foreigners to its country, but the artistry of the Opening Ceremony was its symbolism. Of course, part of the peaceful unity concept is fueled by the IOC (International Olympic Committee), but I honestly think it meant more for London. The Olympics are just an exaggerated form of the current city. The games celebrate the city's rich diversity, and I believe that the celebration of diversity is something we risk overlooking in this course. We talk often about the hardships of immigrants, but there is also something to be said about the beauty of London's rich diversity and immigrant population. Yes, there are many issues that face these communities. In fact, we're reading about some now in The Riots. I, however, challenge everybody to take a step back and admire the cultural hub that is London.


Oh, and don't forget to cheer on the 21 competing Longhorns! And Team USA in general.

Reading/ film suggestions

If you are finding a comfort level with this material and would like other facets explored, here are a few suggestions:

Caryl Phillips (Hailing from Guyana) is a prolific writer/intellectual.  A Distant Shore is kind of a masterpiece, with Black and White perspectives on African immigration to England.
Nasdeem Aslam.  Maps for Lost Lovers takes place in a kind of imagined Pakistani community within England.  Powerful plot in a beautifully written novel.  Take your time with this.  His The Wasted Vigil is terrific, as well (but not for this course).
Salman Rushdie.  East/West is a book of short stories.  West is here in olde England.  I'm not the biggest Rushdie fan, (beyond Midnight's Children), but these stories are good.  "The Courter" is hilarious.
I'm not the biggest Zadie Smith fan, either.  Couldn't get into White Teeth.  But a lot of people love it, so I list it here.

My Beautiful Launderette.  A nice film by the writer Hanif Kureshi.
Dirty, Pretty Things.  The refugee underworld, and also the black market for human organs.
Welcome is a very good French film where a North African immigrant trains to swim the English Channel from Calais to reach England illegally.
Masala is a Canadian film that I found hilarious (there's an older woman who can gain access to the god Krishna through her video cassette recorder).

What else?

Bangladeshi Actors

While watching Brick Lane I suspected that the actors in the film were not from Bangladesh, and found myself wondering about the extent to which Bangladeshi people have interacted with Western film, and even film in general. Here's what I've found out:

According to IMDB, the three main actors in Brick Lane are not in fact Bangladeshi. The woman who plays Nazneen, Tannishtha Chatterjee, and the man who plays Chanu, Satish Kaushik, are both Indian. (Satish Kaushik is also a writer, producer, and director of films). The actor who plays Karim, Christopher Simpson, was born in Dublin to an Irish father and a Greek-Rwandan mother.

As for Bangladesh actors in Western film. I found a few articles claiming that Sumalya Ahmed is cast to be the first Bangladeshi actress to play a heroine role in a Hollywood movie "Humble River", which is supposed to come out in 2013 (although it should be noted that most of these articles were from slightly sketchy-looking sources).  It seems that Bangladeshi actors are quite integrated into Bollywood movies, though. If you go down Wikipedia's list of Bangladeshi actors, probably about eighty percent of them have the word "Bollywood" next to their name.  I found a few who have dappled in some Western works, mostly TV, such as Lisa Ray(who guest-starred in Psych, apparently!).

My third curiosity-- the presence of a Bangladeshi film industry-- turned up results, although it is interesting that initially typing "Bangladeshi film" into Google gave me a bunch of hits for sites where I could download "Bangla movies for free!" Bangladesh does have its own thriving film industry, sometimes known as "Dhallywood" (as in Dhaka + Hollywood), and according to good old Wikipedia produces about 50 movies a year. There is a Bangladesh Film Archive that can be accessed online here: http://www.bfa.gov.bd/ 

9/11, european xenophobia and the misuse of the word "random"

Recently, I have heard a lot of talk about 9/11. Some locals were talking about it at the Peak District hotel and now we discussed it in class, so I thought I'd talk about a experience I had on my way to Paris. It is impressive that an event that happened almost 11 years ago still has enormous consequences throughout the world.

So, my train schedule was tight and I had to run to check in. The train security is not nearly as crazy as airport security, but there still a protocol to be followed, and a lot of time was lost while having bags scanned and going though the line to the metal detector. With less than 15 minutes to spare, I found myself in a very short line. That special line for people in risk of losing their rides. I calmed down a little bit because there were only a couple of people in front of me and Addison and I still had 13 minutes to go. That is when I realized them man right in front of us was Middle Eastern (and wearing tradition clothes, complete with headgear). For one microsecond I though "Oh, shoot, they are going to stop this man and I'll love my train" (very selfish, I know), but then I rationalized: we are in a rush, this is the fast line... The border agents aren’t stopping anyone, why would he stop that man? The discrimination towards Muslims and Middle Eastern people has subside throughout the last year. The boarder agent is only going to stamp his passport and let him go.

But surprise! the man was stopped. The young lady organizing the lines changed me and Addison to another queue as soon as she saw the man, trying to reason with the agent (which, it seems, stopped him for no reason). That other line had 5 people in it already, but how long does it take to stamp a passport, really? So when I cross the English/French boarder, with some 8 minutes to spare, I looked back and saw the Middle Eastern man still there.
The good part to this story is that I didn't lose my train to Paris, the bad part is that the consequences of the prejudice institutionalized by the post 9/11 security measures are still humiliating, demeaning and annoying a lot of people. It gets you thinking. That "terrorist" attack, supposedly planned by Muslim extremists (I have my doubts, but I'm not gonna get into conspiracy theory right now) really backfire on your average Muslim, who is a good and respected member of his community, has children, pets, hobbies and doesn't own guns or any explosive device.

It is no secret that the richer European nations (mainly France, England and Germany) do like their xenophobia, and that things have been hard for middle eastern, asian and african immigrants around west Europe for a while before the twin towers tumbled down in a pile of dust and fire, but the 9/11 "terrorist" attack just made things worse for everyone. It basically allowed a bunch of nations to institutionalize racism, specifically in boarder control points.

On 9/12, it was perfectly okey to stop a man in immigration just because he had a longer beard and a "muslim name" (by muslim name, I mean names taken from the Qur'an and other muslim religious texts). "Are you dark skinned, are you from the middle east? so why, sir, you must be a suicide bomber".

I am not opposed to airport security (or to security in general) in any way. I don't mind having my documents and personal belongings checked, if that means I'll be less likely to be killed in an airplane (or any other mean of transportation/place, actually), but I do mind when some people get checked more than others.

They call it "Random selection" in the US, but it is a method used in many nations. The boarder police is allowed to stop any person they want, and it is completely "random", of course. Those "randomly" selected people are subject to monetary losses due to lost airplanes/trains/boats, humiliation and the temporary sanction of their rights. Of course, it is a right of every sovereign nation to allow or deny the entry of foreigners in their territory as they may, but it is still alarming that today, almost 11 years after the attack to the World Trade Center, muslims or non-muslim middle eastern people have to suffer through the drag of being "randomly selected".

FYI for the PR people that coined the term "random selection": it is not random if it's base on what a person looks, what's the person name is or where a person's passport was emitted. It would be random if every boarder control agents had an electronic device (an app, who know) that biped at random intervals, based on a logarithm unknown by said agents. 

A "Colorful" Song from Brick Lane

While watching the movie version of Brick Lane, I noticed a familiar song playing in the background during the scene where Nazneen first visits Razia's house. It was a famous Bollywood song called "Mujhe Rang De," literally meaning "Give Me Color." It could also be translated as "Make My Life Colorful." It made me think about how Razia, who adopts many British practices and takes control of her own life, could be said to have a more colorful life than Nazneen.

Here's a video of the song from the original movie, Thakshak:

The video is about seven minutes long, but watching the first minute or minute and a half is probably enough to give you an idea. Be warned; it's pretty catchy.

Chatsworth and Diversity?!

As I stood on the line to enter Chatsworth Manor with quite a few people with roughly my racial profile, I thought of these heritage sites and diversity.  To tell the truth, it was after a number of such trips on my last Oxford Summer Program that I arrived at the idea of doing this course.
But in Chatsworth, I am reminded that a concern for cultural richness is not just a 20th/21st century concern, as some of the holdings remind us that Africa was "discovered" by the west hundreds of years ago.  Maybe these beautiful objects can be dismissed as a kind of Orientalism.  Or, maybe they are a reminder of the wide palette of ideas of "beauty" that can always exist.  Anyway, I was pleased to spy these among the general opulence, and it fired some thoughts about diversity, orientalism, beauty.

you can see a better image of these at http://blackartblog.blackartdepot.com/features/african-american-monuments-statues/african-venus-said-abdullah-charles-cordier.html

Robben Island Bible

Yesterday at the British Museum, whilst walking through "Shakespeare: Staging the World," I was particularly struck by the ending piece to the exhibition: The Robben Island Bible.
For those of you that saw the piece, I'm sure you also thought it absolutely fascinating. For those of you that didn't see it, I'll explain. The Robben Island Bible is not actually a true "Bible," but instead, a copy of Shakespeare's collected works. Sonny Venkatrathnam, a political prisoner at Robben Island in the 1970s, is the owner. Robben Island had a strict ban on non-religious texts being owned by their prisoners, so Sonny covered the outside of the bible with Hindu gods and goddesses and told the guards that the book was called, "The Bible by William Shakespeare."

The Robben Island Bible Cover

Sonny passed the book around to his fellow political prisoners that were involved in the struggle against  apartheid and asked them to mark their favorite passages. Some of these other notable individuals were Nelson Mandela and Ahmed Kathrada. The book on display was open to the passage from Julius Caesar marked by Mandela: Cowards die many times before their deathsThe valiant never taste of death but once.Of all the wonders that I have heard,It seems to me most strange that men should fear;Seeing that death, a necessary end,Will come when it will come.The other passages have been captured digitally and were playing in loops on three LCD screens right behind the actual book.I thought this was honestly the coolest thing I had seen in a long time, and, if we're being even more honest, I'm not even a huge fan of Shakespeare (please, don't shoot). Seeing the different passages that each political figure marked, contemplating why may have marked them, realizing how amazing it is that Shakespeare played even a small role--perhaps just positively connecting these figures in an extremely dark time--in such an important political struggle even in our time. I was just blown away.

So when I returned home, got on my computer, and started to look into this amazing book, I was severely disappointed to find this: http://www.thestar.com/news/world/article/1229077--african-national-congress-disputes-iconic-status-of-robben-island-bible-displayed-in-british-museum


It made me wonder how many people could possibly feel the same way. The fact that one of the prisoners didn't even recall which passage he marked really made me feel disappointed. I wonder if any of the other prisoners felt the same way about this artifact: dismissive, indifferent, forgetful.It made me wonder how many people could possibly feel the same way. The fact that one of the prisoners didn't even recall which passage he marked really made me feel disappointed. I wonder if any of the other prisoners felt the same way about this artifact: dismissive, indifferent, forgetful.


But after some thought, I did see how this could be frustrating to the actual political figures. It highlights Shakespeare, not the fight against apartheid. Sure, it's fascinating that Shakespeare had a tiny role in the lives of these important figures. But what's really more important? Shakespeare? Or this political conflict? The exhibit has you walking out thinking the more important one is Shakespeare, with the giant quote on the wall about how Shakespeare still influences us today. 


Did anyone else think they sort of deadened the issue of apartheid too much? I know the exhibit was for Shakespeare. I know.... I know. Honestly, I loved the Robben Island Bible, and I found it inspiring and moving. But I hadn't considered what it meant to those more closely connected to the political conflict. But I'm curious to see what everyone else thinks.




Side note: I apologize for the formatting problems. It appears my post decided to highlight itself with white and change fonts. Thanks to copying quotations. How unfortunate.

Brick Lane and the Bahraini

My rich Aunt Jill poured me enough Riesling at dinner last night for it to take me three stops to realize I had boarded the right tube line going the wrong direction. Aunt Jill retired at thirty through some lucky moves and a lot of work in the internet boom. She and my uncle have the resources to have the highest discretion over what they eat, and--in their excitement to drink and eat with me in a city we all love--they spared no expense.

The Indian cuisine I ate in Kensington was the best I have ever had in my life, and (unless literary interest turns into a form of great financial acquisition) probably the best I will ever have. We had artichoke soup, aloo chole, a salad of beets and naan, and devoured three entrees between us of chicken and prawn. We drank two bottles of expensive Riesling. For dessert we ate chocolate stuffed samosas. With six months between our last meeting, we had plenty to discuss. As connoisseurs of all forms of beauty, they were most interested about which books we were reading. I told them all about Brick Lane. They told me to read White Teeth by Zadie Smith which--in a lucky coincidence--I had just bought at Blackwells a few days before.

The food, wine, and conversation were exceptional. So was my tube mistake.

After realizing my blunder, I hopped off at the next station which was notably not quite as pristine as the one at Glocester Road. I scurried up the steps and over the bridge to the platform on the other side just in time to jump onto the approaching east bound train. Now having eight stops instead of three to Victoria Station, I pulled out Brick Lane. I read three words.

"Excuse me, are you a Londoner?"

"No. I'm not. I'm sorry."

"Where are you from?"

"I'm an American."

"I'm from Bahrain. Every one in London is misplaced. "

The man from Bahrain and I discussed Brick Lane. He did not like the novel because he found the main character unapproachable. I disagreed. I told him that I have not found a passage as moving or as approachable as the protagonist's internal dialogue about fate early in the book. He did not like that Monica Ali was not actually from Bangladesh. I was indifferent.

He introduced me to his wife who was fully veiled.

"Did you read the book?" I asked.

"Of course,"she winked, "I am the reader. My husband is the talker."

I asked them how long they had lived in London. They told me twenty years. I made a joke about them being almost fully Londoners. The man told me no, London may not be the most accepting place in the world, but it is a place that does not demand conformity.

My stop came. I minded the gap and got on my bus back to Oxford, but that phrase stuck with me more than anything said over dinner.

Everyone in London is misplaced.

Monica Ali

I thought I would post some links to a few with interviews with Monica Ali that I thought were pretty interesting for anyone who wants to know more about her.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EWrbwbdKqpE

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2003/jun/01/fiction.features1

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/books/3616570/My-year-as-a-star.html

Multicultural Booksellers

I am not sure how relevant this is to our class but when I was walking around Oxford today, I found this small independent bookstore and cafe. They say that they sell primarily alternative culture fiction. The thing that I found really interesting about it is that right down the road is the home of Oxford University Press that primarily publishes and sells classics and educational reading. The juxaposition between these two bookselling worlds is intriguing and just goes to show how every facet of human life has aspects of multiculturalism, even bookselling in Oxford.

Begging

I saw this muslin women begging in the busy streets of the Champs Elysees.

Beggars make me uneasy: sometimes I feel like emptying the whole content of my pockets on their begging hats, cups and hands, and sometimes a silent type of greed takes hold of me and I cannot immagine myself parting with a single coin. What makes my feelings towards beggars inconstant is the lack of information. I wish I knew why they ended up begging in the streets. Is it desperation, or is it because begging is easier than working?

I come from a family of poor people who prospered through education and hard work in a country where quality public education and heath care are rarities, and although they were poor, begging was never an option. Working hard was, studying hard was. That is why I wonder: could this woman, begging in the streets fully clothed, with seemingly decent shoes, be working? Could she find other means to feed herself and possibly her family?
I have seen so many barefoot children wearing rags walking in groups by the beach, trying to survive one day at a time, that I feel a woman like this, kneeling in the streets for hours, but fully clothed agains the mild cold of Paris, should feel ashamed to beg, and not I ashamed to give. I have seen people who have less sharing their hard earned food with others.

On the other hand, there I stood, in this temple of Consumerism that is the Champs Elysees, with money to spend on presents and souvenirs, while this women spend hours in her knees for the occasional change. Does she have a house? Does she have food in that house? Maybe...

Would you give?

"Multicultural" Cardiff

This past weekend, I travelled to Wales. I planned to hike up a mountain and eat some delicious food, but I didn't expect to encounter such cultural diversity. On the bus, especially, I heard at least four different languages and saw every skin color imaginable. By the time I reached Cardiff Bay on my last day, then, I was not surprised when an Indian man handed me a brochure for a Multicultural Mela (Hindi for "festival" or "fair"). What did surprise me as I looked through the brochure was the fact that every single one of the events, food booths, and distinguished guests at the festival was South Asian. It seemed strange that the word multicultural should be used to describe an event celebrating only one culture (although I acknowledge that "South Asia" is a region with much religious and linguistic diversity). It was also a bit funny that out of the three people in my group walking together, he chose to hand the brochure to the Indian girl rather than one of the two white girls; when I hesitated, he even added that there would be a lot of curry! Since we're about to start discussing Brick Lane, I thought it'd be interesting to see what people thought about the use of the word multicultural in this context.

Over the course of my travels and employment as a camp counselor I have had the pleasure to meet and befriend people from a wide range of nationalities, mostly from the ex-British Empire and current Commonwealth. I haven't as of yet had the opportunity to experience anything like the kind of enlightening conversation Mitchell had, and revisiting my experience in Brixton will only trod over ground well broken by Kelsey and make me yearn for Caribbean street food, so I plan on starting up a email correspondence/ interview of sorts with my international comrades on the subject of race relations. All of my friends are educated white men who come from various sectors British society, and most of them take a more conservative stance on the topic of immigration. As the weeks go on I will regularly try and post the results of these interviews (either verbatim transcripts or summaries)  for the class to read over, maybe even inviting my friends to post on the comments section below each entry. I personally think it will be interesting to get the local's perspective and see the resulting dialogue.

 Best wishes!

Does "new" modify "British," or "voice"?

I had an enchanting conversation about literature, the arts, the effect of media on public policy and the effect of the internet on media with a homeless man yesterday, and in spite of it possibly being the most noteworthy thing to happen to me so far on this trip I'm not sure if I should mention it here.

Situational awareness not being my strongest feature I had overlooked on no less than twelve or thirteen separate occasions that there are at least two grocery stores maybe three blocks away from here down Broad Street, and so when I finally got tired of skipping meals after a week of no lunches I struck off north from Wadham College and spent upwards of three hours wandering about aimlessly.

(This could have been avoided if I'd printed off some sort of map beforehand, but I'd thought that getting lost and finding my way back again would be a fun way to pass the late afternoon as I waited for the productive hours of the evening to arrive. It wasn't, but I digress.)

On the way back I happened across a little cooperative store and bought delicious sandwich things enough to last for the next week at least for the price of a single meal from one of the local restaurants, and having managed to do so at a store that--if the stickers plastered everywhere were to be believed--prided itself on its membership in the Fair Trade movement, I was experiencing a sensation I'd like to describe as financial smugness as I finally got my bearings, realized I had wound up almost directly west of the college, made for home.

He was sitting outside of one of those groceries just off of Broad Street, with his two layers of insulation--both stained with something brownish and unidentifiable--the suitcase with his worldly possessions, his dog and his begging hat. I try to always keep some spare change on my for meeting people like him, and having just paid for four pounds of food with a twenty pound note I had quite a bit more than usual, so I didn't even think about it when I dropped a fistful of coins on top of the pile that was already there in front of him.

The homeless beggars in Austin have a thank-you-kindly-sir routine, so I thought nothing of it when he made his display of gratitude, but then he asked me where I was going and that brought me to a halt. I've not yet had one back home do that. There was a brief but uncomfortable pause as I weighed my expectations, but quickly decided that it couldn't hurt to tell him. That led naturally into him asking what I was doing at Wadham, and when I told him that I'm here to study British literature the politely interested look on his face became genuine.

Literature had been one of his A-Level subjects, you see, when he had been getting ready for college.

Admitting that I'd never read Milton horrified him, but a quick redirection toward more recent visionaries in speculative fiction saw us reconciled over a shared love of Adams and Banks. He'd never been much for "women authors" and couldn't comment on Austen for me, but was more than happy to suggest some reading in the crime genre. On the nonfiction end of things, my criticism of Michael Moore's use of hyperbolic language in his political writings sounded to him a bit over intellectualized, and I was forced to cede that an intentionally inflammatory style of journalism is useful with certain audiences--even if it was a bit pathetic to try to stack Moore up against Hunter S. Thompson.

Evening slipped in through the pauses for breath. There were more than enough for it to fit, given that we talked for almost half an hour. It would be silly to give a blow-by-blow of our dialogue, and also unnecessary; you've probably already got a feel for it. He was widely and well read on subjects historic, present and fictional, and delighted in it. The worst thing about his position, he said, was that being on the streets meant that he didn't have access to the resources to write effectively.

I've been procrastinating on a story I want to write for about four months now. That comment stung in a way I'd not known was possible.

Sam Selvon was wrong, incidentally, about the emotions that motivate people to give to the manifestly poor. It wasn't shame or guilt that I felt when I approached him, or as I stood there talking to him. Those come later, when you're walking away with another hundred pounds in your wallet trying furiously to stop yourself from calculating the marginal utility of that money in your hands versus his because you know if you do you'll realize that the only reason you dumped a pile of coins into his hat and not a pile of bills is that your ethical cognition is biased. Standing in front of that man, watching his eyebrows sketch the animated tracery of genuine pleasure under the brim of his grimy stocking cap as he laid out his understanding of the telecoms regulations that made it more profitable for HBO to demand a cable subscription than to switch to online distribution, the appropriate response is anger.

Anger because this man was a foreigner in his own country. What else are you, really, when you haven't a home of your own? Can you be a citizen of a society that's locked you out in the cold? I think not. Anger, then, over the wastefulness of it, of leaving a mind like that to try to keep itself warm because of some personal financial hiccup. Anger because he demonstrably deserved a place in a society that largely considers him outcaste.

And it's funny, because in spite of being everything we've talked about when discussing the plight of the West Indians in Britain, everything and more, I'm not sure if it's correct to post this here because, you see, he was very, very English.

Homelessness is hardly a post-colonial condition, after all. It predates colonialism. It predates the nation-states that, modernly, gave rise to colonialism. There's an argument to be made, if you're not daunted by the horribly confused semantics involved, that it predates civilization, arising cotemporally with the human species.

Does it follow that, in spite of suffering all the symptoms of the imperially disinherited, he and those like him are to be excluded from the discussion of the postcolonially afflicted over, and isn't this the malicious congruity to top them all, their nationality?

(I almost typed "ethnicity" before remembering that I'm talking about the English. Hah!)

Our purpose here, as far as I've been able to understand it, is the pursuit of some sort of alternative perspective to the "native" one, some amorphous thing we expect to have fallen out of the uneasy mixture that resulted when the unwanted bastards of an empire came home to claim an inheritance that nobody'd thought to prepare for them. I ask, in all seriousness: is dispossessed equally estranged as disinherited? Can circumstance make you a New British Voice even if you're from Old British Blood? Or do he and his fall outside the scope of our discussion because the country they face institutional discrimination in already has a high rate of occurrence for their alleles?