I've got a little bit of extra time with work this week and the next because technically I'm supposed to be on vacation but I have some small supervising responsibilities until friday at which point I might catch a flight to the U.S and then Canada.
Of course, it's to my bloggy journal that I go when those few minutes leave me pondering.
I was thinking how emotionally wrought I was when I made the decision to leave montreal and toronto and commit myself wholeheartedly to Israel and a medical career with a whole differant slant to it. I remember leaving montreal and thinking how I would never have an apartment that beautiful again and I would likely never enjoy a city as much, but on this I was wrong. For me Tel Aviv and Israel itself trumps anything I experienced in all my years in Montreal. I still love la ville de montreal but Tel Aviv fits even better. Leaving Toronto was more difficult as my family is there and they all brought me to the airport and none of us could stop crying, but they were partially happy tears because they meant the start of something new and exciting and i was about to go somewhere that I'd always longed to be a part of.
When I left Canada I wasn't sure that I'd have a life with as many opportunities and conveniences. This is partially true, but what I left I don't even miss, with the exception of my family who I miss everyday. Ten years ago I would never have predicted that this is where I would be. I loved the university health network in Toronto and the lifestyle of Montreal and never would have thought that I could sacrifice it all and start from scratch here in Israel. But I did and now I can't imagine the opposite. I can't imagine being content back in that same University Health Network in Toronto or in the MUHC in Montreal ( the health network in montreal). I literally can't imagine living there again although each time I go back it's startling because it's so easy to slide back into that life again.
It's almost as if when I'm in Canada, my life in Israel was just a dream.
Very often over the past year I've entertained options of going back out of the country whether to the U.S. or to Africa, but something has kept my feet here so far.
My footprints are still here despite the best efforts of he who shall remain unnamed from my last relationship.
Of course regular sojourns out of the country are necessary and if I didn't go i would probably feel too claustrophobic to live here. I crave travel and have always wanted to reach out to the world in my own way. But at the end of the day, waking up in Israel fills me with value and intent.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
here we go with the virgins again...
This video has to been seen. It's so hilarious. How fantastic that this cleric is able to speak with such authority and complete confidence in his arabian nights adolescent wet dream. He speaks of women without urine or phlegm or feces who stay in locked tents 24/7 waiting for their husbands eyes to set upon them. I wonder what these child free translucent woman of the heavens think when the swarthy, sweaty, odorous, demanding, and murderous men with overhanging bellies come traipsing in to the tents of heaven ready to be pleasured.
So this is what we mortal women have to compete with to prevent the martyrs from sacrificing themselves. Who wants to see flesh translucent enough to see the bone marrow? It might make it easier for diagnostic purposes haha but as a turn on? ick. From first glance at this cleric, I would suggest that he's more inclined to prefer eating a table of chickens and bone marrow than sex with heavenly translucent virgins.
What a messed up middle east we've found ourselves in. I hope it's not viral. Would be such a shame if our upstanding western boys became martyrs themselves so that they could bypass the trials and tribulations of courtship.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
the silencer
It wasn't a marvel comics superhero who brought a full 24 hours of solitude and quiet reflection into tel aviv yesterday. With all the honking cars off the roads, the city seemed perfectly quiet even with the throngs of tykes on bikes playing on the pavement.
I went for a long walk to be alone with my thoughts and traversed most of the city along the sea, so that I could hear the soft lapping of the waves accompany me as a soundtrack to my yom kippur reverence. The heat was strong yesterday and that made my fast a bit difficult. Even though the early end to Yom Kippur was supposed to make it easier, my throat and lips were completely parched by my day walking in the sun. Over 2200 people were taken to the local hospitals in tel aviv over the holiday for treatment, although a portion of that number includes women in labour. Luckily for me, despite my rather unwise foray under the blazing middle eastern sun, I managed to make it without an IV of saline or ringers lactate solution. The moments that I wasn't walking, I was nestled into shady spots along the tayelet where I could read without interruption.
Although I've always gone to Shul on Rosh Hashona and Yom Kippur, it doesn't feel like I need to search out a shul service here. I tell my parents that all of Israel is my shul.
for the final blowing of the shofar, I walked over to a shul on dizengoff where people always gather in the street to listen to the songs of prayer and hear the shofar. From a vantage position I listen attentively with fellow tel avivis as the blast of the shofar made it's way through the stained glass windows and open doors of the shul, across the crowds and atop the bauhaus style apartments. With uncharacteristic silence and with complete stillness the crowd together felt the heady shofar note weave it's way through their ears and into our hearts.
of course, the best way to break the fast was with friends at my favourite sushi place. As soon as it opened we sat perched atop our favourite elevated chairs and ordered lots of spicy sushi. It's always appropriate to end a jewish holiday with some high quality shrimp...too funny. One of my friends was on his way to a holiday in berlin. Yom Kippur inspired him to bond with the germans.
I read an article in the haaretz late last night concerning normalization. The first dirty word for arabs involved in the peace process is collaboration, then comes normalization. As I was reading I couldn't help but laugh as sad as it was to hear of the powerful egyptian press group boycotting and pressuring others to boycott Israel, because within my NGO we've long experienced the underlying cold peace and anti normalization. It's better for us that it's upfront and in the open now.
It's much easier to work and combat injustice and obstacles to peace when they're acknowledged to exist. We've long had difficulties sharing work on publishable papers and conference presentations, and had many physicians outright refuse to take part in any health diplomacy project that involves other egyptians knowing of their involvement with israelis. This is even given that we have a peace agreement with Egypt. I'm of the opinion that it's a great step forward to make prejudices public so that we can better combat them. Cold peace is better than missiles, but is an obstacle to progress for all. Shine some light on the resistance remaining so it can be directly addressed.
I went for a long walk to be alone with my thoughts and traversed most of the city along the sea, so that I could hear the soft lapping of the waves accompany me as a soundtrack to my yom kippur reverence. The heat was strong yesterday and that made my fast a bit difficult. Even though the early end to Yom Kippur was supposed to make it easier, my throat and lips were completely parched by my day walking in the sun. Over 2200 people were taken to the local hospitals in tel aviv over the holiday for treatment, although a portion of that number includes women in labour. Luckily for me, despite my rather unwise foray under the blazing middle eastern sun, I managed to make it without an IV of saline or ringers lactate solution. The moments that I wasn't walking, I was nestled into shady spots along the tayelet where I could read without interruption.
Although I've always gone to Shul on Rosh Hashona and Yom Kippur, it doesn't feel like I need to search out a shul service here. I tell my parents that all of Israel is my shul.
for the final blowing of the shofar, I walked over to a shul on dizengoff where people always gather in the street to listen to the songs of prayer and hear the shofar. From a vantage position I listen attentively with fellow tel avivis as the blast of the shofar made it's way through the stained glass windows and open doors of the shul, across the crowds and atop the bauhaus style apartments. With uncharacteristic silence and with complete stillness the crowd together felt the heady shofar note weave it's way through their ears and into our hearts.
of course, the best way to break the fast was with friends at my favourite sushi place. As soon as it opened we sat perched atop our favourite elevated chairs and ordered lots of spicy sushi. It's always appropriate to end a jewish holiday with some high quality shrimp...too funny. One of my friends was on his way to a holiday in berlin. Yom Kippur inspired him to bond with the germans.
I read an article in the haaretz late last night concerning normalization. The first dirty word for arabs involved in the peace process is collaboration, then comes normalization. As I was reading I couldn't help but laugh as sad as it was to hear of the powerful egyptian press group boycotting and pressuring others to boycott Israel, because within my NGO we've long experienced the underlying cold peace and anti normalization. It's better for us that it's upfront and in the open now.
It's much easier to work and combat injustice and obstacles to peace when they're acknowledged to exist. We've long had difficulties sharing work on publishable papers and conference presentations, and had many physicians outright refuse to take part in any health diplomacy project that involves other egyptians knowing of their involvement with israelis. This is even given that we have a peace agreement with Egypt. I'm of the opinion that it's a great step forward to make prejudices public so that we can better combat them. Cold peace is better than missiles, but is an obstacle to progress for all. Shine some light on the resistance remaining so it can be directly addressed.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
random stupidity
some people ought to learn to observe the principles of apology themselves. some people ought to take a second look at themselves and at the truth they think defines them but is just an empty truth.
ma zeh...
Yom Kippur begins in a few short hours and I need to scoot out for a short hour run before the fast begins, but i was thinking about how perplexing it is when we wish people an easy fast. The point behind fasting is so that we experience anguish and cleanse ourselves of any wrongdoings.
Given, twenty four hours is hardly long enough to cause anguish for most people except when dehydration sets in. Still why do we bother wishing people an easy fast out of courtesy? Why denigrate the effort that it requires for some people?
Given, twenty four hours is hardly long enough to cause anguish for most people except when dehydration sets in. Still why do we bother wishing people an easy fast out of courtesy? Why denigrate the effort that it requires for some people?
dreaming strangely
I dreamt that I was working in gaza and I went with three friends to the market to pick up some fresh fruits and vegetables to keep in the clinic, but then the elders in the market said that I shouldn't go further because there was strife which would swallow us. So I stopped and waited but then eventually my friends and I got separated as we wandered in the mouth of the market.
Suddenly I realized that I was in the bowels and surrounded by men leering, and an old man came running after me and hustled me away telling me to not be so trustful. As we scurried out of the vicissitudes of the market, another man came running towards us pulling my friend who was bloodied from the top of her head all the way to her chest. I tried to stem the bleeding by the old man wouldn't let us stop moving and I realized that I was wearing my favourite white gold dove star of david necklace.
The moment I noticed what I was wearing, he noticed the same and reached to grab it off my neck as we ran, saying how unwise it was to wear. I dodged his reach and continued to run and half carry my friend to safety thinking it was the faith in my necklace that was protecting us. I wouldn't be forced to take it off.
Suddenly I realized that I was in the bowels and surrounded by men leering, and an old man came running after me and hustled me away telling me to not be so trustful. As we scurried out of the vicissitudes of the market, another man came running towards us pulling my friend who was bloodied from the top of her head all the way to her chest. I tried to stem the bleeding by the old man wouldn't let us stop moving and I realized that I was wearing my favourite white gold dove star of david necklace.
The moment I noticed what I was wearing, he noticed the same and reached to grab it off my neck as we ran, saying how unwise it was to wear. I dodged his reach and continued to run and half carry my friend to safety thinking it was the faith in my necklace that was protecting us. I wouldn't be forced to take it off.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
shopaholic 101
In times of depression, be they economic or emotional, there are a few types of therapy that give me an instant lift.
1. A good hard training session always does it, and particularly if it's a swim session ( I miss my swim training! Hope that my shoulder heals already, although I do need to take the time to be proactive about it. After 9 months, it's time to be proactive about physiotherapy or surgery.)
2. A long and meticulously thorough cleaning session where I'm compelled to clean the crevices or my windowsills and underneath the refrigerator. My cleaning perfectionism comes out in moments like this. It's an all or nothing endeavour.
3. Retail therapy feels so good. That moment when you've picked something that fits you perfectly and makes you feel 10 times better wearing it than when you walked in not wearing it is entirely worth the pain in my non-existent wallet. Sometimes I'll actually change in the store. It could be the perfect mint coloured silk bra from Italy with matching low rise underwear or a silver belt that thinly wraps around like a knotted greek snake to give your dress that added kick or a three quarter sleeve tunic with buttons down and an a-line which looks perfect as a dress. It doesn't really matter what it is as long as it speaks to me.
All three worked in synergy to combat my mood today. We do what we can. At least I can take solace in the face that I'm probably saving myself money in paxil, prozac, or ativan. I've seriously considered putting myself on all three for the first time ever. This has been the first year where I've longed to not feel anything, it's the type of feeling that only drugs can create for you. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, my responsibilities here make me too accountable and I can't afford to numb myself into a stupor.
1. A good hard training session always does it, and particularly if it's a swim session ( I miss my swim training! Hope that my shoulder heals already, although I do need to take the time to be proactive about it. After 9 months, it's time to be proactive about physiotherapy or surgery.)
2. A long and meticulously thorough cleaning session where I'm compelled to clean the crevices or my windowsills and underneath the refrigerator. My cleaning perfectionism comes out in moments like this. It's an all or nothing endeavour.
3. Retail therapy feels so good. That moment when you've picked something that fits you perfectly and makes you feel 10 times better wearing it than when you walked in not wearing it is entirely worth the pain in my non-existent wallet. Sometimes I'll actually change in the store. It could be the perfect mint coloured silk bra from Italy with matching low rise underwear or a silver belt that thinly wraps around like a knotted greek snake to give your dress that added kick or a three quarter sleeve tunic with buttons down and an a-line which looks perfect as a dress. It doesn't really matter what it is as long as it speaks to me.
All three worked in synergy to combat my mood today. We do what we can. At least I can take solace in the face that I'm probably saving myself money in paxil, prozac, or ativan. I've seriously considered putting myself on all three for the first time ever. This has been the first year where I've longed to not feel anything, it's the type of feeling that only drugs can create for you. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately, my responsibilities here make me too accountable and I can't afford to numb myself into a stupor.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
fits and starts
mornings are always easier for me. they bring new beginnings with each and every sunrise. they bring forgetfulness of the night before, at least for that initial moment of wakefullness.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
a kiss is not a contract
What is a kiss if not two souls meeting in tender touch? pleasure inducing? the lip against lip setting off a cascade of "feel good" hormones. perhaps the kiss is an element that misleads. perhaps there is something to shomer negia.
what if I don't mean my kiss and want to brush it off my lips with aquafresh and listerine mint, so that it can be forgotten in the minty freshness promised by the mouthwash bottle?
How bizarre it must be to be a man faced with the prospect of a woman wanting nothing. No love, no promises, no candlelight dinners. Not nothing exactly but the something that only a man usually wants. was there truth to pretty woman's penchant for kiss avoidance so there could be no delving deeper? maybe. I'm nothing like Vivian from Pretty woman and am probably known more for being a hyper social bookworm, an urban freshly washed granola girl, and not much of a beauty but I'm picking and choosing parallels. Oh, movieland lead the way for me! maybe I'll have a marathon night of chick power flicks to toughen up my resolve.
This new year I'm going to do everything I can to place my heart in a bulletproof box and change the access code so that no man will ever crack it and true to effect I'll never have to relive a year like the last one, ever again.
what if I don't mean my kiss and want to brush it off my lips with aquafresh and listerine mint, so that it can be forgotten in the minty freshness promised by the mouthwash bottle?
How bizarre it must be to be a man faced with the prospect of a woman wanting nothing. No love, no promises, no candlelight dinners. Not nothing exactly but the something that only a man usually wants. was there truth to pretty woman's penchant for kiss avoidance so there could be no delving deeper? maybe. I'm nothing like Vivian from Pretty woman and am probably known more for being a hyper social bookworm, an urban freshly washed granola girl, and not much of a beauty but I'm picking and choosing parallels. Oh, movieland lead the way for me! maybe I'll have a marathon night of chick power flicks to toughen up my resolve.
This new year I'm going to do everything I can to place my heart in a bulletproof box and change the access code so that no man will ever crack it and true to effect I'll never have to relive a year like the last one, ever again.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Birthdays and Rosh Hashana's to come...
Today is my fathers turn to celebrate his birthday and it's also the first night of Rosh Hashana. My parents don't know that I'm writing here so it's easier for me to say how I feel without compunction, but I wish all the most wonderful things in the world for my father on the occasion of his birthday. Most importantly I wish him good health.
I made a mistake, I think. I should have saved up and gone in to Toronto for his birthday and the holidays. I should have just drawn in my apprehension of not meeting up to standard and booked a flight in. It's a bit too late now, but one of my brothers drove in from Montreal and surprised my parents early in the morning Toronto time. He was thrilled beyond belief.
This evening will be a bit unusual for me as I won't be with my family and I've turned down every invitation I had to join friends for rosh hashana dinner. But, I may just decide to bring in the new year my own way...midnight bike ride perhaps? I could even be tempted to go for a late evening run and then hop into the sea afterwards. Or maybe just bike out to somewhere random and camp there overnight. I think I need to spend it near the crashing of the waves where the sand can nestle like silk between my toes.
I made a mistake, I think. I should have saved up and gone in to Toronto for his birthday and the holidays. I should have just drawn in my apprehension of not meeting up to standard and booked a flight in. It's a bit too late now, but one of my brothers drove in from Montreal and surprised my parents early in the morning Toronto time. He was thrilled beyond belief.
This evening will be a bit unusual for me as I won't be with my family and I've turned down every invitation I had to join friends for rosh hashana dinner. But, I may just decide to bring in the new year my own way...midnight bike ride perhaps? I could even be tempted to go for a late evening run and then hop into the sea afterwards. Or maybe just bike out to somewhere random and camp there overnight. I think I need to spend it near the crashing of the waves where the sand can nestle like silk between my toes.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
typical manipulation and blue baby syndrome
I've moved rightward. This morning reading the paper and certain bleeding heart web statements floating around, I understood why, beyond the principle of social contagion, this has happened.
Floating inaccuracies for the sake of manipulative dramatics are so irritating to me. And yet, they characterize the PR war in the middle east. Hamas uses this tool to greatest effect.
What most irritated me this morning and put a damper on my usual morning cheer, was reading that "Blue Baby Syndrome" has been thrust upon the diapered gazans like a cast iron induced plague or an IDF decree.
I'm the first to admit that health care in Gaza is severely hindered. Trying to work in health diplomacy drives me bonkers at times because the focus is less often on alleviating health care disparities and more on weighing down the case for dramatic effect in the eyes of the media. I've never faced as many challenges in working with a developing health care system than when working through my NGO on health concerns in the palestinian territories. And what we find in the west bank is five hundred times easier to address than in Gaza, mostly because our presence is at least permitted in the west bank and Fatah is less willing to put palestinians health on the sacrificial alter to maintain victim status and subsequent negotiation power.
Blue Baby syndrome describes the physical appearance that a cyanotic baby may take on. It's most often caused by congenital malformations like tetrology of fallot, but it's possible that it can be caused by several other reasons included high nitrate levels in groundwater.
Like anyone with any humanity, I balk at the injustice of anyone harming any baby or child, and sick babies are heartwrenching no matter the nationality or religion. If Operation Cast Lead or the misled policies of the IDF were causing thousands of babies to slowly suffocate I would be the first to garner all the human resource at my disposal and attack the issue to bring these babies back to pink.
However, I regularly see and work with the epidemiological data coming out of the territories. Data that's not always collected accurately but it's still somewhat of a measure. Blue baby syndrome is not an epidemic in Gaza. It's a possible connection for a condition that could possibly occur given the polluted groundwater status in gaza.
Two points to rile me up:
1. Blue baby syndrome is not an epidemic anywhere in the middle east
2. The polluted groundwater in gaza is primarily the result of overpumping of the Gaza aquifer and lack of financing towards alternative desalination techniques applied to other water sources.
what does this mean? To me it means that yet again millions of mainstream and blog news readers are being manipulated and are having their heartstrings pulled for the purpose of preserving the cause of victimization.
There are plenty of reasons to feel for the palestinians and the existence that they lead, we don't need to fall over ourselves to point the finger of blame at Israel for turning babies blue. Trust that there are many ways to reach out and help with real issues in the territories as well.
what is the most common cause of congenital heart defects in the palestinian population that leads to blue baby syndrome? consanguineous marriage a.k.a. marrying your sister. I wonder if journalists like Amira Hass can find a way to blame Israel for that too? but, I digress...
Floating inaccuracies for the sake of manipulative dramatics are so irritating to me. And yet, they characterize the PR war in the middle east. Hamas uses this tool to greatest effect.
What most irritated me this morning and put a damper on my usual morning cheer, was reading that "Blue Baby Syndrome" has been thrust upon the diapered gazans like a cast iron induced plague or an IDF decree.
I'm the first to admit that health care in Gaza is severely hindered. Trying to work in health diplomacy drives me bonkers at times because the focus is less often on alleviating health care disparities and more on weighing down the case for dramatic effect in the eyes of the media. I've never faced as many challenges in working with a developing health care system than when working through my NGO on health concerns in the palestinian territories. And what we find in the west bank is five hundred times easier to address than in Gaza, mostly because our presence is at least permitted in the west bank and Fatah is less willing to put palestinians health on the sacrificial alter to maintain victim status and subsequent negotiation power.
Blue Baby syndrome describes the physical appearance that a cyanotic baby may take on. It's most often caused by congenital malformations like tetrology of fallot, but it's possible that it can be caused by several other reasons included high nitrate levels in groundwater.
Like anyone with any humanity, I balk at the injustice of anyone harming any baby or child, and sick babies are heartwrenching no matter the nationality or religion. If Operation Cast Lead or the misled policies of the IDF were causing thousands of babies to slowly suffocate I would be the first to garner all the human resource at my disposal and attack the issue to bring these babies back to pink.
However, I regularly see and work with the epidemiological data coming out of the territories. Data that's not always collected accurately but it's still somewhat of a measure. Blue baby syndrome is not an epidemic in Gaza. It's a possible connection for a condition that could possibly occur given the polluted groundwater status in gaza.
Two points to rile me up:
1. Blue baby syndrome is not an epidemic anywhere in the middle east
2. The polluted groundwater in gaza is primarily the result of overpumping of the Gaza aquifer and lack of financing towards alternative desalination techniques applied to other water sources.
what does this mean? To me it means that yet again millions of mainstream and blog news readers are being manipulated and are having their heartstrings pulled for the purpose of preserving the cause of victimization.
There are plenty of reasons to feel for the palestinians and the existence that they lead, we don't need to fall over ourselves to point the finger of blame at Israel for turning babies blue. Trust that there are many ways to reach out and help with real issues in the territories as well.
what is the most common cause of congenital heart defects in the palestinian population that leads to blue baby syndrome? consanguineous marriage a.k.a. marrying your sister. I wonder if journalists like Amira Hass can find a way to blame Israel for that too? but, I digress...
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
under a bridge in a riptide
time is entirely relative. i've known that since before physics classes and theories that seemingly had no relevance to my daily life. i've watched it speed up and slow down in front of me as I've aged.
we're almost at the new year. some events still feel like they happened only yesterday, and at the same time the year feels like the longest I've felt since my childhood when time made it self less obtrusive and eternity felt like reality.
I've had many invitations from friends in Israel to join their families for Rosh Hashona. I don't think I'm going to take any of them up on it. I'm feeling like I might want to catch a flight to tuscany or maybe even head to the sinai. Perhaps a quiet evening on the beach outside of tel aviv will fit my approach to bringing in the new year. Each evening around 10pm, if I'm home early, I can catch the boys and men of tel aviv practicing their shofar blowing. The deep tones of the shofar streaming through my window. People have already begun cooking and the stores are full of people buying things in preparation of the holidays. I miss my family very much, and to me the holidays are essentially about bringing together the family. But, this year I may just be a little bit too vulnerable and my pockets a little bit too empty to be with my own family.
I was at the kotel this evening in jerusalem and was able to say my own special prayers before the throngs descend in celebration of rosh hashana. I could never feel as spiritual or connected within the 4 walls of a toronto synagogue.
we're almost at the new year. some events still feel like they happened only yesterday, and at the same time the year feels like the longest I've felt since my childhood when time made it self less obtrusive and eternity felt like reality.
I've had many invitations from friends in Israel to join their families for Rosh Hashona. I don't think I'm going to take any of them up on it. I'm feeling like I might want to catch a flight to tuscany or maybe even head to the sinai. Perhaps a quiet evening on the beach outside of tel aviv will fit my approach to bringing in the new year. Each evening around 10pm, if I'm home early, I can catch the boys and men of tel aviv practicing their shofar blowing. The deep tones of the shofar streaming through my window. People have already begun cooking and the stores are full of people buying things in preparation of the holidays. I miss my family very much, and to me the holidays are essentially about bringing together the family. But, this year I may just be a little bit too vulnerable and my pockets a little bit too empty to be with my own family.
I was at the kotel this evening in jerusalem and was able to say my own special prayers before the throngs descend in celebration of rosh hashana. I could never feel as spiritual or connected within the 4 walls of a toronto synagogue.
Monday, September 14, 2009
nanoddict
I broke out my ipod nano for the first time in months. I had retired it to prevent any random and embarassing street emoting. Before listening to it, I carefully made sure that all offending songs from someone who doesn't belong on my playlist were fully deleted. Never to be listened to again. Freedom and complicated release.
A sound that once drew me in, sourced my empathy, carried me contentedly across oceans, warmed me in the chill, brought me back home, and comforted me, revealed itself to be a pied piper of distraction that belied what lay underneath.
I remember quietly harmonizing to a song in the bitter cold in the middle of a desert, the voices matching and complementing in a tiny snippet and feeling like an erotic dance done quietly and personally and building enough warmth to heat the village.
Thank goodness for delete.
A sound that once drew me in, sourced my empathy, carried me contentedly across oceans, warmed me in the chill, brought me back home, and comforted me, revealed itself to be a pied piper of distraction that belied what lay underneath.
I remember quietly harmonizing to a song in the bitter cold in the middle of a desert, the voices matching and complementing in a tiny snippet and feeling like an erotic dance done quietly and personally and building enough warmth to heat the village.
Thank goodness for delete.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
swinging rightward
shockingly, I've started to slide to the right...I've never been truly a lefty, more like a soft left capital L midline liberal. But, living here and absorbing the emnity in the middle east has pushed me a bit farther right than I've always been comfortable identifying with.
There was an article in the international herald tribune today which discussed the idea of social contagion. Two harvard sociologists long ago theorized based on extended data obtained from the Farmington heart study, that we can infect others with social conditions or physical conditions all the same. The theory purports that emotions like happiness and bitterness can be passed on through the people you interact with along with traits like obesity, leanness, and success.
Tempting theory with lots of epidemiology backing it up but it doesn't take into consideration confounders like homophily ( when people associate with others like them) or shared environment ( when a macdonalds opens in the neighbourhood and puts the big mac on special). Anyway, I have a feeling that political ideology is contagious too and I haven't escaped infection. I've just had less tolerance lately for self victimization and this may well push me farther right on the spectrum.
In the meanwhile, I should probably go chum around with some hospital clowns and start infecting new years cheer or something of the sort. Clowns are better than H1N1, unless they're obese clowns or pessimistic clowns or actually, forget the clowns. I've never really liked clowns anyway.
There was an article in the international herald tribune today which discussed the idea of social contagion. Two harvard sociologists long ago theorized based on extended data obtained from the Farmington heart study, that we can infect others with social conditions or physical conditions all the same. The theory purports that emotions like happiness and bitterness can be passed on through the people you interact with along with traits like obesity, leanness, and success.
Tempting theory with lots of epidemiology backing it up but it doesn't take into consideration confounders like homophily ( when people associate with others like them) or shared environment ( when a macdonalds opens in the neighbourhood and puts the big mac on special). Anyway, I have a feeling that political ideology is contagious too and I haven't escaped infection. I've just had less tolerance lately for self victimization and this may well push me farther right on the spectrum.
In the meanwhile, I should probably go chum around with some hospital clowns and start infecting new years cheer or something of the sort. Clowns are better than H1N1, unless they're obese clowns or pessimistic clowns or actually, forget the clowns. I've never really liked clowns anyway.
Friday, September 11, 2009
even in my sleep...
I'm home early tonight, working again on deadline from my laptop. I have some editorial corrections and material additions to make to some of our cardiology documents. We have 11 documents remaining for final editing ranging from aortic stenosis to rosecea. All must be done to standard for submission to our american client before Rosh Hashana. If it's done and I'm not scheduled for any clinical work then I'm free for Rosh Hashana reflection. As if I don't reflect enough. Actually, Rosh Hashana should involve bringing in a sweet new year and since this one was literally among the worst in my life, I should try to aim to begin the new one with a fresh perspective, less emotional baggage from the relationship from hell, and a sweeter taste of optimism for the future in my mouth.
lately I've been having bad dreams about my last relationship. I haven't been able to sleep properly and I wake up only to wrap myself tighter in my duvet so that I can disappear from myself. I feel like Dorthy from the wizard of oz, hoping that if I click my heels together three times I'll be transported somewhere else, but the somewhere else is away from my own heart. I became really distraught and disoriented this year coming out of that relationship situation, and the discomfit with myself still remains. I had no resolution.
Everything around me remains strange to my touch as I feel myself carrying on with an emptiness not filled by my work or other commitments. Nothing around me carries the same value. Time spent with Don Juan before he went to vietnam was like time spent straight out of the time-travellers wife. I don't think I was ever actually present. Each moment felt like it was experienced in the twilight zone. I actually asked him if it felt weird for him, implying that for me I was in full on weird temporal zone. His answer was that for him it felt perfect. He replied that everything couldn't have been more perfect. I was baffled. I didn't return his calls before he left and skipped his going away party. Feeling badly about being a bit unkind by doing this, I delved deeper into my workload and resolved to strengthen my fortitude with anyone that I might be attracted to and not give in to any more late night encounters of the romantic kind. Don Juan only snuck into my life because he forwent my typical resistance to making time for plans that resemble dates, and just showed up at 1am with regularity, ostensibly to chat. Time spent with him involved moments where I've felt exactly like an automaton. With him everything is completely emotionless on my part and almost robotic. How can he not feel that from me? He's not even the desperate type. I don't even have his number saved in my phone.
lately I've been having bad dreams about my last relationship. I haven't been able to sleep properly and I wake up only to wrap myself tighter in my duvet so that I can disappear from myself. I feel like Dorthy from the wizard of oz, hoping that if I click my heels together three times I'll be transported somewhere else, but the somewhere else is away from my own heart. I became really distraught and disoriented this year coming out of that relationship situation, and the discomfit with myself still remains. I had no resolution.
Everything around me remains strange to my touch as I feel myself carrying on with an emptiness not filled by my work or other commitments. Nothing around me carries the same value. Time spent with Don Juan before he went to vietnam was like time spent straight out of the time-travellers wife. I don't think I was ever actually present. Each moment felt like it was experienced in the twilight zone. I actually asked him if it felt weird for him, implying that for me I was in full on weird temporal zone. His answer was that for him it felt perfect. He replied that everything couldn't have been more perfect. I was baffled. I didn't return his calls before he left and skipped his going away party. Feeling badly about being a bit unkind by doing this, I delved deeper into my workload and resolved to strengthen my fortitude with anyone that I might be attracted to and not give in to any more late night encounters of the romantic kind. Don Juan only snuck into my life because he forwent my typical resistance to making time for plans that resemble dates, and just showed up at 1am with regularity, ostensibly to chat. Time spent with him involved moments where I've felt exactly like an automaton. With him everything is completely emotionless on my part and almost robotic. How can he not feel that from me? He's not even the desperate type. I don't even have his number saved in my phone.
Rosh Hashana Nuts
One of my close friends living in Nahariya just called with the news that rockets landed near his home. He thinks they came from Lebanon. It's not as if his family hasn't been through enough over these past few years. His body exists in a perpetual state of fight or flight. Imagine the damage caused by such longterm high exposure to key stress hormones. I wish that his family could have the bucolic peaceful homelife that they so deserve and so need, in order to recover from the hardships they've experienced since the second lebanon war. Other close friends of mine are spending the weekend camping and trekking up north. I hope they'll be safe and nothing will escalate.
Hariri just stepped down as prime minister due to failure to form a consensus government. Hezbollah wouldn't accept his ministerial choices. Chances are Hariri will be reappointed but that's left Hezbolalh with a drop gap chance to attack without blame. They've sent rockets to blast us out of our sense of holiday security. Bowls of nuts, apples and honey are being readied for Rosh Hashona tables as the month of Ramadan concludes. We've respected the muslim observance, to the point that border guards were instructed not to eat or drink during the hours of the ramadan fast. Instead of responding in kind, our safety is being challenged as we prepare to sit down to our own observance.
This could very well be hezbollah giving the sitting lebanese gov't notice that if it's demands aren't met for a consensus gov't than it still holds the power to let loose the hounds of war, hence the rockets landing next to our friends and families shabbat tables in nahariya today.
Perhaps Netayanhu expected this and his secret military tour this week was in preparation for reciprocal force. I sincerely hope the answer is otherwise.
Hariri just stepped down as prime minister due to failure to form a consensus government. Hezbollah wouldn't accept his ministerial choices. Chances are Hariri will be reappointed but that's left Hezbolalh with a drop gap chance to attack without blame. They've sent rockets to blast us out of our sense of holiday security. Bowls of nuts, apples and honey are being readied for Rosh Hashona tables as the month of Ramadan concludes. We've respected the muslim observance, to the point that border guards were instructed not to eat or drink during the hours of the ramadan fast. Instead of responding in kind, our safety is being challenged as we prepare to sit down to our own observance.
This could very well be hezbollah giving the sitting lebanese gov't notice that if it's demands aren't met for a consensus gov't than it still holds the power to let loose the hounds of war, hence the rockets landing next to our friends and families shabbat tables in nahariya today.
Perhaps Netayanhu expected this and his secret military tour this week was in preparation for reciprocal force. I sincerely hope the answer is otherwise.
Paroxysms of Sneezing
Allergic instigators have descended upon my tiny little flat in north tel aviv. I can't stop sneezing. I had gone over to help a friend in an emergency dog episode... canine 911, when after carrying the 180 pound dog up 4 flights of stairs I realized that my lungs had closed up.
with my friend trying to convince me to stay and keep her company, I begged off barely able to speak and made it back to my apartment with barely any oxygen left in my lungs. Grabbing my ventolin inhaler, I breathed in relief and marveled at how in my old age I've developed allergies. I'm allergic to one breed of dog, and it's my friend's breed of dog. In my little apartment, the smoke in the walls and in the furniture closes my lungs and makes me sneeze.
Both of my neighbours in the divided apartment that I'm attached to are smokers and it flows unabated into my apartment. I'm a non-smoker, hate the smell of smoke and am disgusted by the predominance of smokers in this developed country. At the same time I worry about what the country would descend into if everybody was denied their nicotine fix. In that sense I'm a bit like the mother of a typical hyperactive child, wishing that ritalin would babysit her child and yet worrying about the long term effects of doing just that.
Mind you, Ritalin doesn't turn lungs black or cause errant cells to bypass apoptosis and go AWOL.
with my friend trying to convince me to stay and keep her company, I begged off barely able to speak and made it back to my apartment with barely any oxygen left in my lungs. Grabbing my ventolin inhaler, I breathed in relief and marveled at how in my old age I've developed allergies. I'm allergic to one breed of dog, and it's my friend's breed of dog. In my little apartment, the smoke in the walls and in the furniture closes my lungs and makes me sneeze.
Both of my neighbours in the divided apartment that I'm attached to are smokers and it flows unabated into my apartment. I'm a non-smoker, hate the smell of smoke and am disgusted by the predominance of smokers in this developed country. At the same time I worry about what the country would descend into if everybody was denied their nicotine fix. In that sense I'm a bit like the mother of a typical hyperactive child, wishing that ritalin would babysit her child and yet worrying about the long term effects of doing just that.
Mind you, Ritalin doesn't turn lungs black or cause errant cells to bypass apoptosis and go AWOL.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
suffocation
I'm suffocating. I need to get up and go, somewhere, anywhere. I have some quasi time off coming up over september and october. I won't have any scheduled clinical responsibilities but will still need to take my writing/editing with me. I want to jump out of myself. I know we can never run away from ourselves, but maybe a change of scenery will be enough to allow me to make efficacious and wise decisions concerning my future. I'm always re-evaluating that wide and shape shifting concept known as "my future". There are a few constants that always remain. I love my chosen profession and could hardly care when it swallows every free moment of my time. It's better than a random man feeling free to subjugate and swallow it up himself.
A friend of mine is particularly hard on her sister. Her sister is 36 and because she's single, apparently, she's an emotional burden on her family. This woman owns a large and well furnished apartment in the center of tel aviv, has a job that pays far above the median national income, and is completely content if not for her sister agitating within the family. My friend was trying to convince me that I would be the same burden on my brothers if I chose to eschew coupledom. This seems to me to be pedantic malarkey. There is no burden if as empowered women we're able to support ourselves and live independent lives. I'm not her sister's age, but since I'm far over 25 and have vowed to remain free as a wild colt, she lumps us in the same category. Although this friend is not in a relationship, she's determined to find one and be married with kids within the next two years. Anything's possible, but I fail to understand the emotional burden that I would place on my brothers should I cherish and protect my independence.
I don't want to go home for the holidays. Having my mother text me a million times all day and speaking to my family everyday is enough for now. My brothers will come visit here this fall, but I'm just not into going home and being lectured for not following the prescribed path, for being too ambitious for my own good, and for chafing at the thought of a suburban existance.
A friend of mine is particularly hard on her sister. Her sister is 36 and because she's single, apparently, she's an emotional burden on her family. This woman owns a large and well furnished apartment in the center of tel aviv, has a job that pays far above the median national income, and is completely content if not for her sister agitating within the family. My friend was trying to convince me that I would be the same burden on my brothers if I chose to eschew coupledom. This seems to me to be pedantic malarkey. There is no burden if as empowered women we're able to support ourselves and live independent lives. I'm not her sister's age, but since I'm far over 25 and have vowed to remain free as a wild colt, she lumps us in the same category. Although this friend is not in a relationship, she's determined to find one and be married with kids within the next two years. Anything's possible, but I fail to understand the emotional burden that I would place on my brothers should I cherish and protect my independence.
I don't want to go home for the holidays. Having my mother text me a million times all day and speaking to my family everyday is enough for now. My brothers will come visit here this fall, but I'm just not into going home and being lectured for not following the prescribed path, for being too ambitious for my own good, and for chafing at the thought of a suburban existance.
musical chairs
earlier this week, I stumbled across a new furniture shop that took the place of a well known art gallery in the center of tel aviv. I stepped inside, intrigued by the clean lines and interesting textures teasing me through the window. I was immediately taken in as the creative director, founder, and chief architect began to chat with me about the philosophy behind his furniture. tonight, looking for a quick work diversion that doesn't involve ice cream or playtime with don juan, I started flipping through the catalogues just now and it reminded me of how I completely adored the philosophy and had such an instant connection with the chief architect because of it.
The collection is based on music. It involves a visual language for the furniture which integrates voids and shadows that reflect the creativity of sound. it was simple,elegant, inexpensive, and perfect for the apartment of my dreams. He's also a jazz musician and the situation was comical because I was staring at the wall behind him while he spoke, having been entranced by a piece of art on the while that spoke to me. It looked familiar, like an old friend. It turns out that it was. He had taken a bach fugue and translated the sound waves into 7 prints. He had me at hello....
The collection is based on music. It involves a visual language for the furniture which integrates voids and shadows that reflect the creativity of sound. it was simple,elegant, inexpensive, and perfect for the apartment of my dreams. He's also a jazz musician and the situation was comical because I was staring at the wall behind him while he spoke, having been entranced by a piece of art on the while that spoke to me. It looked familiar, like an old friend. It turns out that it was. He had taken a bach fugue and translated the sound waves into 7 prints. He had me at hello....
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
glass menagerie
So random guy decides to sidle up next to me and whisper sweet nothings in my ear, only they weren't sweet nothings, they were the alcoholic rumblings of a bar rat set loose in the cafe lined streets of tel aviv. He asks me why I'm not in a relationship. I wanted to tell him, "well, it's because I'm secretly an out of control meth addict and in fact this ice watermelon drink is really a crack infusion tinted pink". why do people more often than not fail to understand that I don't want to be in a relationship. Relationships to me are like snakes to Indiana Jones. Sex without consequence, pleasure without commitment, and the woman as the artisan of control is how it should be for me. Potential boyfriends be forewarned, I'll never be so silly that I would choose that path again. I'm done with love unless it's for a dog, fish, or parakeet.
morning breaks
It's 4am. and I'm supposed to get up within the next hour, but I just kicked Don Juan out and sent him back to his own humble abode. He came over to say goodbye because he's leaving for 3 weeks in vietnam over Rosh Hashona and Yom Kippur. I still can't separate my mind and enjoy the moment with any particular guy. Even worse,I also still hate myself for missing terribly he who shall remain unnamed, the voldemort of relationships, especially since all my logic and reason tells me we should never cross paths ever again.
Monday, September 7, 2009
Plethora of Iftars...
and the saga continues.. how much to avoid? tonight, an iftar dinner takes place in Jaffa which many of my friends will be going to. I can't go in case I crash into someone who I should never ever again be in the same vicinity as. It's more his stomping grounds then mine, so on this one I have to immediately concede and miss out. I've really wanted to join in since I heard about it last year, although last year when we were together he wanted to go on his own lest people not approach him with the same openness because he would have been two instead of one. He had a theory that he would always have a better experience on his own since individuals attract more friendliness than couples. I'm not a subscriber. I've met amazing, warm, friendly people when I've travelled on my own, in two's or with a motley crew. So last year I missed out too. It's as if the whole experience was a rat poison that took affect during the relationship and had toxic side effects remaining long after. I guess I just really wanted to go and was hurt that I couldn't be included.
Friday brings an Iftar put on by one of the local peace out organizations. I don't think it's a registered amuta in israel, but the forum it uses seems to have reached a spectrum. Friday is also September 11th and Shabbat. It's an interesting choice for a peace event/ Iftar Dinner. I imagine that many who celebrate shabbat will be home with their families and not in Beit Jalla at the Dinner. I'd really like to go out of fascination with the conversation that I might find there and out of interest in the people that I might meet. I'd really like to but don't think I should go. Beit Jalla is not Jaffa, and I'm just as entitled to join in, but why take chances? I hate living like a hobbit.
Friday brings an Iftar put on by one of the local peace out organizations. I don't think it's a registered amuta in israel, but the forum it uses seems to have reached a spectrum. Friday is also September 11th and Shabbat. It's an interesting choice for a peace event/ Iftar Dinner. I imagine that many who celebrate shabbat will be home with their families and not in Beit Jalla at the Dinner. I'd really like to go out of fascination with the conversation that I might find there and out of interest in the people that I might meet. I'd really like to but don't think I should go. Beit Jalla is not Jaffa, and I'm just as entitled to join in, but why take chances? I hate living like a hobbit.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
fairytale hero
Sometimes I do long to be swept up in the arms of a hero, my personal hero, but that would be so 1950's. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it. I have a vision of a fairytale but it's too antiquated to own up to.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
healing
I don't subscribe to many unfounded, unproven, or esoteric self help theories, but here in Israel we claim as our own the father of harvard's modern positive psychology stream. Harvard's lead lecturer on positive psychology recently assumed a position at Israel's IDC in Herziliya and is beginning to spread his message in our neighbourhood.
one of the central tenets of this stream is that we ought to let ourselves hurt and feel pain until it passes, that there's no sense in trying to be strong to prevent the pain from reaching into your core because if pain didn't pass then humanity itself would be doomed. Being able to feel pain means that we've opened the passageway to feeling happiness on the flip side. we have the ability to pass through the most painful experiences and the deepest traumas, so we can allow ourselves to take the time to let it pass and to return to our selves again. Sometimes this means letting the tears flow unabated and it's in honour of our humanity not in spite of it.
one of the central tenets of this stream is that we ought to let ourselves hurt and feel pain until it passes, that there's no sense in trying to be strong to prevent the pain from reaching into your core because if pain didn't pass then humanity itself would be doomed. Being able to feel pain means that we've opened the passageway to feeling happiness on the flip side. we have the ability to pass through the most painful experiences and the deepest traumas, so we can allow ourselves to take the time to let it pass and to return to our selves again. Sometimes this means letting the tears flow unabated and it's in honour of our humanity not in spite of it.
three decades
For better or for worse I've managed skip along a social existence for pretty much three decades, without a single date. I feel a midge proud of this. My avoidance skills are top notch. Each relationship I've had has happened by accident, date free. Most have been long term and emotionally complex. I want to create an ink stamp that I can put on the back of my hand in day glo yellow that says ...100 percent date free. dates are like asbestos, except they should be avoided at risk of damaging disposition.
Dates imply that something is sought. They imply that I'm looking for a random shared moment to turn into seven babies and a bugaboo running stroller. I will never be seduced into partaking. It's a far cry from the 40 year old virgin, but who says fun has to involve dates or relationships? This sentiment is hard to convey in Israel where everyone tends to assume that everyone else belongs in a relationship, in which case my presence goes against the communal grain. The women here are beautiful and most get snapped up and married away young. It almost happened to me too when I was young, not so beautiful but young and bright eyed. I hadn't yet learned how to say no and ended up engaged with a full pomp and circumstance wedding from hell planned and all. I narrowly escaped from what would have been a stifling marriage to someone who I never loved.
Mind you, if I had married him then I wouldn't have met and loved the person who would then go on to break my heart into a million shiny fragments. Which is the worse of two evils? At least I've known what it feels like to truly, deeply, and sincerely love someone. It was the first time I'd ever felt that type of love, the most injurious to have when it's not at all reciprocated. If love like that can break someone apart then maybe it's best to just forgo it to begin with, and then save on the life rehab time. Sex is known to be great without any ties or emotional commitment. I can kick a man out of my bed at 3am, sending him packing so that we don't wake up next to each other. I can be the man in the equation.
Dates imply that something is sought. They imply that I'm looking for a random shared moment to turn into seven babies and a bugaboo running stroller. I will never be seduced into partaking. It's a far cry from the 40 year old virgin, but who says fun has to involve dates or relationships? This sentiment is hard to convey in Israel where everyone tends to assume that everyone else belongs in a relationship, in which case my presence goes against the communal grain. The women here are beautiful and most get snapped up and married away young. It almost happened to me too when I was young, not so beautiful but young and bright eyed. I hadn't yet learned how to say no and ended up engaged with a full pomp and circumstance wedding from hell planned and all. I narrowly escaped from what would have been a stifling marriage to someone who I never loved.
Mind you, if I had married him then I wouldn't have met and loved the person who would then go on to break my heart into a million shiny fragments. Which is the worse of two evils? At least I've known what it feels like to truly, deeply, and sincerely love someone. It was the first time I'd ever felt that type of love, the most injurious to have when it's not at all reciprocated. If love like that can break someone apart then maybe it's best to just forgo it to begin with, and then save on the life rehab time. Sex is known to be great without any ties or emotional commitment. I can kick a man out of my bed at 3am, sending him packing so that we don't wake up next to each other. I can be the man in the equation.
Friday, September 4, 2009
wrapped in cellophane
My mom called me this afternoon to tell me that she and my father have decided to sell the house. Apparently they've had an offer to purchase far above the value of the house. Our house is beautiful and my mom designed it herself 29 years ago. It sits top a hill with a ravine fringing the road and the backyard porch overlooks all of toronto including the CN Tower and the network of green ravines leading from the suburbs to the downtown area. I'm very attached to this house and still carry many vivid associative memories. My father doesn't want to sell it but my mom is far less attached or so she thinks she is. In my family, my mother is the impulsive one, while my father has always been the cool minded rational thinker.
I get a lot of guilt tripping from my mother. It's pretty much non-stop. I love my parents deeply but, I do have a lot of difficulty dealing with it sometimes. Today's guilt trip involved my mom illiterating how she has to sell the house because it's not like she has children living in it, all her children left the nest, and I have failed in my daughterly duty to fill the house again with a next generation of rambunctious grandchildren. So, essentially, she's selling the house because I didn't become a suburban homemaker. I'm such a black sheep. Actually, I'm not a sheep at all which makes it far worse.
She promised me that she would keep my baby grand, my beautiful piano.
I get a lot of guilt tripping from my mother. It's pretty much non-stop. I love my parents deeply but, I do have a lot of difficulty dealing with it sometimes. Today's guilt trip involved my mom illiterating how she has to sell the house because it's not like she has children living in it, all her children left the nest, and I have failed in my daughterly duty to fill the house again with a next generation of rambunctious grandchildren. So, essentially, she's selling the house because I didn't become a suburban homemaker. I'm such a black sheep. Actually, I'm not a sheep at all which makes it far worse.
She promised me that she would keep my baby grand, my beautiful piano.
UNSW and the tale of the Toshiba
Years back, when I was still a student and while I was still entranced and willing to spend months on end doing repetitive and monotonous benchwork for the thrill of the results, I was accepted to take part in an online research collaboration organized by the University of New South Wales. It was a Genomics international research project called Omnium. We were split up into groups, and mine was named the Merope Team. My groups project involved using the genomic tools made available to us through UNSW to study HIV Progressors compared to Slow and Non-Progressors based on GP-120 Structure. The idea was to utilize exceptional high quality genomic visualization tools and the expertise of young colleagues from universities around the world, to push forward and test out a new research frontier. The platform and results are probably still online somewhere. At that time I remember thinking that it was a wasted big pharm opportunity to not create vaccines based on the gp-120 region of the HIV virus. We spent a great deal of time working with visualizations of GP 120 and also GP 41. The regions with these two proteins are the most stable and slow to mutate areas of the HIV Virus. The HIV virus uses these proteins to bind to and infect healthy cells.
Today the journal Science published paper from a talented team out of Scripps in la Jolla who discovered two antibodies that bind to both GP 120 and GP 41 in 3/4 of HIV strains found. Interesting finding to come so many years after our initial project. maybe it's because we did it in affiliation with UNSW which is located on the island of Australia. an island. far away in far far away land. I hope more attention is paid to this discovery and that the WHO is able to devote more funding.
Today the journal Science published paper from a talented team out of Scripps in la Jolla who discovered two antibodies that bind to both GP 120 and GP 41 in 3/4 of HIV strains found. Interesting finding to come so many years after our initial project. maybe it's because we did it in affiliation with UNSW which is located on the island of Australia. an island. far away in far far away land. I hope more attention is paid to this discovery and that the WHO is able to devote more funding.
eumelanin and pheaomelanin
White hairs have been isolated and identified hiding within my mop of hair. I thought it might have been sun highlights like the kind I used to get every summer when I lived in the water, but no. These are the real deal. I briefly considered pulling them out, but I'd rather have white hair than no hair.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
no if and when
Bob dylan crowed about how we've got to find the path where there's no if and when. That we have to trust ourself to find it. That we can only really trust ourselves.
We should trust ourselves to know the way that will prove true in the end. His song is about urging us to place trust in no one but ourselves otherwise we'll always be let down. I wonder if in this vein trust and faith are twinned.
There are degrees of trust that we place in each other. Some of us have no concept of what real trust is. I used to have some sort of strong faith in myself that I've felt wane over the past few years. But, I trust that if I commit to something or to someone that I'll follow through. In this I am absolute. I know that I will always be there to support those that I care about. My family knows this and I'm pretty sure my friends do to.
Who do I trust? Not Don Juan in any incarnation that's for certain. I feel like I need to close off and protect myself from him.
We should trust ourselves to know the way that will prove true in the end. His song is about urging us to place trust in no one but ourselves otherwise we'll always be let down. I wonder if in this vein trust and faith are twinned.
There are degrees of trust that we place in each other. Some of us have no concept of what real trust is. I used to have some sort of strong faith in myself that I've felt wane over the past few years. But, I trust that if I commit to something or to someone that I'll follow through. In this I am absolute. I know that I will always be there to support those that I care about. My family knows this and I'm pretty sure my friends do to.
Who do I trust? Not Don Juan in any incarnation that's for certain. I feel like I need to close off and protect myself from him.
borders and boundaries
I wonder if it would even be possible to travel through Amman onward into Syria according to existing restrictions in place regarding Israel stamps and visas. Even so, If I made it there, would I be jeopardizing any chance of developing the public health focus of my career in Israel? It's easy enough for me to assert that health is a human right and that it's apolitical and that within my NGO I can function as a professional bridge, or as my mentor A likes to call it... "an honest broker for peace". He prefers to not use the term collaboration. Actually there are many terms which we're not supposed to use in our public health work, and many phrases that we're encouraged to utilize with our cross border partners so that they feel more comfortable acknowledging our existence and are more likely to take our hand. Language has such an immense role.
my own language skills have vastly deteriorated since I was unceremoniously tossed into the dumping grounds. I avoided anything associated with mr.dump. My hebrew speaking friends and colleagues commented on how I completely stopped speaking to them in hebrew for a long while, whereas before I would struggle through entire conversations, patient workups and journal club sessions with corrupt, mispronounced, pidgen hebrew. Of course, avoiding hebrew is the fastest way to create a cement ceiling over my career progression here. But, who knows whether I'll be strong enough to stick it out in the long term, or even in the short term. Now that there's been some distance, I actually am starting to feel like I want to speak it again. knowing a language really comes down to wanting to know it, sponging up as much as you can, and having the will to use what you know. But, what you learn can disappear in a second in tandem with the disappearance or waning of the will.
At this point arabic would be just as useful to have in my toolkit. There's a two week course taking place in a bedouin village in the south that serves as an arabic immersion program. This might something that I'm keen on taking soon.
As for a trek to syria, I'm not entirely sure that I want to dip my toes in troubled waters that will cause me problems in my home country with a government that might question my intent. I'd like to reach across the border but it'll depend on what the risks entail.
my own language skills have vastly deteriorated since I was unceremoniously tossed into the dumping grounds. I avoided anything associated with mr.dump. My hebrew speaking friends and colleagues commented on how I completely stopped speaking to them in hebrew for a long while, whereas before I would struggle through entire conversations, patient workups and journal club sessions with corrupt, mispronounced, pidgen hebrew. Of course, avoiding hebrew is the fastest way to create a cement ceiling over my career progression here. But, who knows whether I'll be strong enough to stick it out in the long term, or even in the short term. Now that there's been some distance, I actually am starting to feel like I want to speak it again. knowing a language really comes down to wanting to know it, sponging up as much as you can, and having the will to use what you know. But, what you learn can disappear in a second in tandem with the disappearance or waning of the will.
At this point arabic would be just as useful to have in my toolkit. There's a two week course taking place in a bedouin village in the south that serves as an arabic immersion program. This might something that I'm keen on taking soon.
As for a trek to syria, I'm not entirely sure that I want to dip my toes in troubled waters that will cause me problems in my home country with a government that might question my intent. I'd like to reach across the border but it'll depend on what the risks entail.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
syriana
Two major refugee camps exist for palestinian refugees in Syria. Both are run under the direction of the UNRWA. Yesterday I was walking home and I took a route that brought me past the egyptian embassy and a travel agency that specializes in transportation and travel to Egypt, Jordan, and Syria. I peeked through the window and then quickly clamored inside so as not to let out too much of the AC. It seems that it's a pretty simple proposition to get oneself to Syria. It means travelling to Amman and then catching a bus and travelling only another two hours to get into Syria. From there the refugee camps are situated along the railway and are easy to get to.
I got in touch with the UNRWA this morning. They only have two doctors in the one clinic serving the entire refugee population in the region. I might like to go take a short trip and see what we can do. The last refugee camp I was at was in ghana with a refugee population that had entirely different needs I'm certain, given that the refugee population in syria is the oldest refugee population in existence. The camp has been there for over 60 years with no internal momentum towards development. This perplexes me.
There were and are large sums of money flowing towards the palestinian refugee cause, however one would think that after 60 years these refugees themselves would have made some attempt to improve their standard of living. It's been 60 years. Who wants to live in a hovel with no privacy, sanitation, and rampant infectious disease, for 60 years? In 60 years, Israel built itself into a modern democracy. Clearly no one was expected to create a nation out of a refugee hut, but to not even have the motivation to build separate dwellings for their families? The victimization irks me and it's the secondary and third generations that have lost out since their parents made some sort of choice to not create towns or villages or any stable and healthy existance, even if transient. Regardless of the choice that was made, health care must be provided. Health care is apolitical or should be. So, maybe we have some sort of an extended role in Syria too. I might like to look into it as a next destination.
I got in touch with the UNRWA this morning. They only have two doctors in the one clinic serving the entire refugee population in the region. I might like to go take a short trip and see what we can do. The last refugee camp I was at was in ghana with a refugee population that had entirely different needs I'm certain, given that the refugee population in syria is the oldest refugee population in existence. The camp has been there for over 60 years with no internal momentum towards development. This perplexes me.
There were and are large sums of money flowing towards the palestinian refugee cause, however one would think that after 60 years these refugees themselves would have made some attempt to improve their standard of living. It's been 60 years. Who wants to live in a hovel with no privacy, sanitation, and rampant infectious disease, for 60 years? In 60 years, Israel built itself into a modern democracy. Clearly no one was expected to create a nation out of a refugee hut, but to not even have the motivation to build separate dwellings for their families? The victimization irks me and it's the secondary and third generations that have lost out since their parents made some sort of choice to not create towns or villages or any stable and healthy existance, even if transient. Regardless of the choice that was made, health care must be provided. Health care is apolitical or should be. So, maybe we have some sort of an extended role in Syria too. I might like to look into it as a next destination.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
passed around playthings
By virtue of the fact that I'm a women, and am debatably living in the most sexed up, liberal, open and accepting city in the middle east, on my own, I'm very often the target of the well meaning dating pimp. Well meaning dating pimp (WMDP) can come in the form of a close friend with a speed dating business who needs a favour, or a friend who is convinced you need to embark on a number acquisition quest which she can help with. I am forged of steel and all the well meaning dating pimp is able to do is try to chisel away at my steely intent to never ever, even if a meteor is headed towards earth, never go on a date or end up in a relationship.
But, I've done favours for just such a well meaning dating pimp and gone as a substitute at one of her speed dating events, which was boredom incarnate. it consists of 5 minutes of mindless chatter feining interest in some testosterone challenged,falafel smelling, speed dater's online bingo start up. Then we switch partners and repeat 10 times over. I was pleading for deliverance after the first one but fought to make it seem like I was enjoying the company. Why not make people feel good knowing someone is interested? The night involved a lot of acting engaged. I half expected a dating oscar at the end, but would have been just as pleased if I could have been kidnapped by Oscar from sesame street. Trash cans hold more fascination than these events. Not that I'm saying we were all trashy by attending. Who knows why anyone else came. Maybe they were doing favours for someone too.
Maybe it pumps up their confidence and they can be empowered to find someone who is truly interested in them. Dating pimp was short on woman and had many men. As her close friend I of course was obligated. Watching paint dry would have been more interesting and poking myself with an ice pick would have been more appealing. But a friend is what a friend does. I wasn't obligated to mark down anyone's name and so I didn't. One problem with doing these types of things is that even if you didn't write anyones name down, somehow these men will track you down like hunters on facebook. At least we can choose to ignore friend request.
The other day I had an interesting experience with Don Juan. Reflection brought the realization that I'm not the least bit excited by him. He may be able to get any woman he wants but that category of any excludes me. He can go play with the thousands of peppy american girls on vacation who would be in some sort of 7th heaven to go back to the U.S. with a sex on the beach story with him in it and some lascivious naked frolicking pictures to go along with it.
Upon hearing of my interesting experience and consequential epiphany, another friend decided that I had to sleep with her boyfriends best friend. Why? Because then he can be a pleasure buddy and that apparently is exactly what I need. Why him? because then we can have more fun going as a foursome for late night thai. What is that? It seems that he has had a dry spell for the greater part of a year. I've never met him. I refuse to meet him on principle. Her pushing him on me actually served to push me away from the idea of ever wanting to meet him and I definitely am not into sleeping with him. I felt insulted with her timing and told her so, and of course she told me that she was insulted that I wouldn't at least evaluate him. Am I wrong? I don't think so.
But, I've done favours for just such a well meaning dating pimp and gone as a substitute at one of her speed dating events, which was boredom incarnate. it consists of 5 minutes of mindless chatter feining interest in some testosterone challenged,falafel smelling, speed dater's online bingo start up. Then we switch partners and repeat 10 times over. I was pleading for deliverance after the first one but fought to make it seem like I was enjoying the company. Why not make people feel good knowing someone is interested? The night involved a lot of acting engaged. I half expected a dating oscar at the end, but would have been just as pleased if I could have been kidnapped by Oscar from sesame street. Trash cans hold more fascination than these events. Not that I'm saying we were all trashy by attending. Who knows why anyone else came. Maybe they were doing favours for someone too.
Maybe it pumps up their confidence and they can be empowered to find someone who is truly interested in them. Dating pimp was short on woman and had many men. As her close friend I of course was obligated. Watching paint dry would have been more interesting and poking myself with an ice pick would have been more appealing. But a friend is what a friend does. I wasn't obligated to mark down anyone's name and so I didn't. One problem with doing these types of things is that even if you didn't write anyones name down, somehow these men will track you down like hunters on facebook. At least we can choose to ignore friend request.
The other day I had an interesting experience with Don Juan. Reflection brought the realization that I'm not the least bit excited by him. He may be able to get any woman he wants but that category of any excludes me. He can go play with the thousands of peppy american girls on vacation who would be in some sort of 7th heaven to go back to the U.S. with a sex on the beach story with him in it and some lascivious naked frolicking pictures to go along with it.
Upon hearing of my interesting experience and consequential epiphany, another friend decided that I had to sleep with her boyfriends best friend. Why? Because then he can be a pleasure buddy and that apparently is exactly what I need. Why him? because then we can have more fun going as a foursome for late night thai. What is that? It seems that he has had a dry spell for the greater part of a year. I've never met him. I refuse to meet him on principle. Her pushing him on me actually served to push me away from the idea of ever wanting to meet him and I definitely am not into sleeping with him. I felt insulted with her timing and told her so, and of course she told me that she was insulted that I wouldn't at least evaluate him. Am I wrong? I don't think so.
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