(L-R) Thakoon F/W 11, Louis Vuiton S/S 12, Thakoon F/W 11

By Guest Contributor Rafael Flores, cross-posted from Fashion Mole

Fashion’s conflicted love affair with Africa is on again. Louis Vuitton featured cobalt and berry Masai prints for its S/S 12 menswear show last June, while Thakoon fused Victorian tailoring with traditional East African patterns for F/W 11. Critics unanimously exalted both collections. Nicole Phelps of Style.com hailed Thakoon’s showing as “his freshest, most alive collection in a while,” and The New York Times Magazine proclaimed Louis Vuitton as the “winner” of Paris Fashion Week for menswear S/S 12, with radiant quotes from SHOWstudio, who hailed the collection as “hugely handsome, confident and clear.”

Sure, the clothes were beautiful, as they tend to be from practiced and esteemed labels like Louis Vuitton and Thakoon. But the use of African aesthetics for the financial and cultural benefit of the West conjures a host of unanswered questions: Is this practice exploitative? What image of Africa does it create in the West? Should designers give back to the communities from which they benefit?

Picasso's Les Demoiselles d'Avignon (1907; painting-analysis.blogspot.com)

Fashion critics have largely praised Galliano and Gaultier’s use of African aesthetics in the context of “diversifying fashion.” In a review of The Fashion World of Jean Paul Gaultier: From the Sidewalk to the Catwalk, a retrospective of Gaultier’s work at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, Robin Givhan of The Daily Beast writes: “Gaultier looks outward at the swirl of life that engulfs him. And he is fully and optimistically engaged with it. Gaultier’s multicultural inspiration, which spans the entire breadth of his career, beginning in 1976, reminds us of the beauty of cultural diversity.”

Looks from Dior Couture '97

“No attempt is made to recover an emic, or inside, sense of what primitive esthetics really were or are… The point of view of Picasso and others… is the only focus of MOMA’s interest… By their absolute repression of primitive context, meaning, content, and intention… [the curators] have treated the primitives as less than human, less than cultural – as shadows of a culture, their selfhood, the Otherness, wrung out of them.”

The New Yorker summarized this argument: “In other words… people of color don’t exist unless whites say they do – and, even then, they exist only as they are seen by whites.”

A portrait of Senegalese women from the 50s by Senegalese photographer Seydou Keita (via origidij.blogspot.com)

One way Western designers could convey a deeper appreciation for Africa is by offering adequate historical or cultural context of their designs when they reference aspects of African culture. If Louis Vuitton offered more background information on Masai prints for his S/S 12 show, for example, viewers would have a better idea of what Masai prints signify and how they became so prominent among Masai tribes. The information could be placed in a pamphlet that accompanies the show’s gift bags or sits on each seat in the audience. This, to me, would ameliorate the feeling that the label was exploiting African culture and give the sense that the label was celebrating it.

Another way fashion could start projecting a more respectful perception of Africa is by incorporating African textiles into their designs. Today, most African-print textiles are manufactured in Europe or Asia – they’re African-inspired, not African. As writer Maya Lau suggests in a Huffington Post piece entitled Senegal’s Accidental Hipsters, the African textile industry is largely foundering in countries like Senegal. Investment in textiles from these countries would 1) feed into the local economy 2) maintain traditional, or at least local, ways of producing textiles, and 3) cultivate a more human relationship between Western fashion and Africa. If Western designers continue to use African prints, sourcing fabric from Africa would give both Westerners and Africans monetary benefits (it would be cheap for Western brands to manufacture in Africa and it would power the African economy) as well as social benefits (it would begin a symbiotic relationship between the West and Africa).

Yet another way for Western designers to convey a deeper appreciation for Africa is by giving back to the communities from which they borrow. After using Masai prints for his F/W 11 collection, Thakoon has done just this. According to Thakoon.com, the label will donate all proceeds from a particular Limited Edition Masai Plaid Scarf to an international children’s relief organization working to reduce rates of malnutrition in the Horn of Africa – the area where Masai Tribes are located. The donor-benefactor relationship isn’t ideal; however, it is one way for Thakoon to give back to the community that offered him so much for his latest collection.

The relationship between the West and Africa is long and complicated, and because of this, there are no real answers as to how to create a healthy relationship between Western fashion and Africa. Here, I’ve tried to offer some solutions and have highlighted others that are currently in the works. More than finding the best solution, however, I hope that designers start thinking more critically about their relationship with Africa and the best way for them to face the conflicts inherent in utilizing African designs. This way, at least fashion can begin to celebrate cultural diversity in a way that feels new, thoughtful, and genuine.

Mother Jones recently published “My Summer at an Indian Call Center,” which looked at the other side of the “these people are stealing our jobs!” outsourcing scenario. It was written by Andrew Marantz, an American who spent a summer in India and took a training course for call center agents, and focused on his experiences during this training and his views of the industry. Some parts were interesting, such as the strange and amusing anecdotes from his cultural training bootcamp, and it provided a much needed counter to the idea that the current system of globalization brings greater happiness and prosperity to everyone.

Points like this were particularly insightful:

Call-center employees gain their financial independence at the risk of an identity crisis. A BPO salary is contingent on the worker’s ability to de-Indianize [16]: to adopt a Western name and accent and, to some extent, attitude. Aping Western culture has long been fashionable; in the call-center classroom, it’s company policy. Agents know that their jobs only exist because of the low value the world market ascribes to Indian labor. The more they embrace the logic of global capitalism, the more they must confront the notion that they are worth less.

But its critique was ultimately limited, full of over-generalizations, and at times contradictory. Below are four reasons I found it so, and why I would hesitate to recommend this article.

(1) Near the beginning of the piece, Marantz quotes a 2003 Guardian article which states: “The most marketable skill in India today is the ability to abandon your identity and slip into someone else’s.” It’s factually correct that this is a marketable skill, but by labeling it the most marketable skill the article is overreaching. It also fails to make a distinction that few Indians overlook. Namely, that there’s very little money that a middle class urban Indian can earn by slipping into the identity of, say, a villager in Orissa, or a farmer in rural Nigeria. The marketable skill is the ability to slip into an affluent Westerner’s identity.

By itself, this is a small omission and overgeneralization, but there are similar ones throughout this article, forming a pattern indicative of a lack of awareness or concern for the underlying hierarchies that govern many aspects of a call center employee’s life, as well as a lack of nuance.

(2) The most interesting, as well as most questionable, parts of the article were those which talked about the cultural training call center agents are required to undergo. In this training, Marantz says,

trainees memorize colloquialisms and state capitals, study clips of Seinfeld and photos of Walmarts, and eat in cafeterias serving paneer burgers and pizza topped with lamb pepperoni. Trainers aim to impart something they call “international culture” — which is, of course, no culture at all, but a garbled hybrid of Indian and Western signifiers designed to be recognizable to everyone and familiar to no one.

While in this instance learning “international culture” is obviously corporate doublespeak for “If you sound too Indian, you’ll be fired,” to claim that there’s no international culture seems similar to the claim that white people have no culture, especially in its glossing over of underlying hierarchies. The point of this culture training, it must not be forgotten, is to give the Indians at these call centers names, accents, mannerisms, and cultural signifiers that help them to pass for Westerners, to circumvent the “protectionism” instincts of the callers. This isn’t a melding of two cultures into something no one is familiar with; it’s the attempted erasure of one to avoid instigating the anger and scorn of those from the other.

Furthermore, to say the signifiers of this “international culture” are recognizable to everyone and familiar to no one is to imply that the playing field is equal, that there’s no hierarchy in the making of said signifiers or in the awareness/consumption of them. It glosses over the history of colonialism as well as current economic inequalities, and implies something that’s partly disproven by the author’s own experience: that an American, walking into a call center recruiting office, would have the same chances of being hired as an Indian.

Marantz further exacerbates this by characterizing call centers, where Indians are pressured to pass as Westerners, as “one of the largest intercultural exchanges in history.” And the unacknowledged irony is that in this globalized world, it’s Westerners such as Marantz — who have spent a semester in Nepal, or gone through some call center training, or have had their jobs outsourced — that largely define for international culture what it means to be an Indian call center agent.

(3) The author makes statements that seem factually questionable, such as the following:

Every month, thousands of Indians leave their Himalayan tribes and coastal fishing towns to seek work in business process outsourcing, which includes customer service, sales, and anything else foreign corporations hire Indians to do.

Most workers in the BPO industry, of which call centers form a part, are not from Himalayan tribes or coastal fishing towns, but are “urban English-speaking youths“. One of the prerequisites of working at call centers, as Marantz himself states, is complete mastery of English, which is difficult to achieve in most schools to which Indians from Himalayan tribes and coastal fishing towns have access. Here, it seems like Marantz is trying to shove the lives of call center agents into a certain assimilation narrative — ambitious young men leave their traditional communities to make a name for themselves in (increasingly Westernized) cities, and in the process lose their identity — whether or not all the facts fit.

There are two other problems with this. The first, to paraphrase Charles Ramirez Berg, is that this assimilation narrative endorses the very system it sets out to criticize, because the only happy ending sends the ethnic/non-Western Other back to where he began, leaving him to cope with the negligible opportunities that exist for him there. The second is that it presents an oversimplified, binary view of the world. This is also evident in other parts of the article, where Marantz makes quite sweeping generalizations. For example, when describing a call center trainee, Marantz writes, “Growing up in rural Haryana, Nishant got his picture of the world from grainy Sylvester Stallone movies on a neighbor’s TV. Like all the boys in his village, he dreamed of living in California.”

For many young men and women, particularly those living near poverty, globalization has displaced nationalism as an ideal. For them, success is defined not in climbing local hierarchies, which can be quite rigid, but in bypassing them entirely and reaching affluence by finding work abroad. That said, I would have suspected at least one or two of the boys in Nishant’s village to have dreams of becoming, say, world famous cricket players, professions that would not require living in California. That Marantz doesn’t makes me wonder at the absoluteness of his perceptions.

And from parts such as this –

Twenty years ago, before India opened its markets to the world, career prospects were bleak. Men might have been laborers or government workers, but even the most ambitious women often gave in to social pressure and stayed home.

– it’s clear that Marantz sees pre-1991 India as having almost nothing to offer ambitious men and women. That this statement ignores doctors, businessmen, professors, etc, is perhaps belaboring the obvious. What is also questionable is the implication that the last twenty years have brought nothing but progress. For while it’s true that middle and upper class urban Indians, on average, have become more affluent in this time period (and not always, or even mainly, by adopting Western identities, even in the BPO industry, despite the impression this article gives), the same can’t be said for others. When India bowed to international pressure and began opening its markets, some of the largely ignored consequences were greater income inequality, increased poverty, currency shocks, food insecurity, and a “crisis of extinction” faced by small rural farmers.

(4) The concluding paragraph of the article comprises the main reasons that I’m hesitant to recommend it. It begins:

In a sense, Arjuna is too westernized to be happy in India. He speaks with an American accent, listens to American rock music, and suffers from American-style malaise. In his more candid moments, he admits that life would have been easier if he had hewn to the traditional Indian path.

As stated above, I believe that this article contains a much needed — though limited — critique of the justifications of global free market capitalism. However, it often implicitly and explicitly reiterates the same essentialist East/West binary that such justifications rely on, the worldview that the East is conservative, traditional, stagnant, and ultimately (and deservedly) powerless against the dynamic, modern, independent, and ruggedly individualistic West. The statement that Arjuna is “too Westernized to be happy in India” contains an unthinking reliance on this East/West dichotomy — which is also present in the statements quoted above — and works to undermine Marantz’s critique of Western-style free market capitalism not being the path to happiness and prosperity.

I know of desis who were born and brought up in America who are now living quite happily in India, as well as Indians who are unhappy with their “traditional Indian” path and those who are happy with their “modern Western” one (I put these in quotes because I would be quite curious to know the exact criteria that distinguish a traditional Indian path from a modern Western one). The crucial difference, it seems to me, isn’t the degree of Westernization, but the available career opportunities. And however lucrative call center jobs might appear in the short-term, in the long-term such jobs are physically- and emotionally-demanding career dead-ends.

From the facts stated in the article, it can be inferred that Arjuna is highly educated and comes from a relatively privileged family. The problem isn’t that such a person became too “Westernized to be happy in India,” but that even with all his education and privileges, there were few options available to him. All that he — and hundreds of thousands of other Indians — have to show for their efforts are graveyard shift call center jobs that leave them physically and mentally disconnected from the world outside. Jobs where they’re required to speak English even among themselves, where they must take timed bathroom breaks and don’t have the freedom to step outside, where they’re minutely judged on their ability to pass as those more valued in global hierarchies and passively endure whatever abuse the customer throws at them. And the problem is that these are some of the people who are considered globalization’s success stories, and the hardships others face — those, say, from “Himalayan tribes and coastal fishing towns” — are generally greater and far more pressing.

As of last week, I had never heard of Bomba Estéreo, despite the fact that they were busy tearing up stages at Coachella, SXSW, and working the club circuit. The Colombian group consists of five members: Simón Mejía, the founder of the group, works the electronic side of the sound, Liliana Saumet sings the vocals, Diego Cadavid works percussion instruments, Kike Egurrola is on drums and Julian Salazar rocks the guitar. Signed to Nacional Records, the group is currently touring in promotion of their second album Blow Up (originally released as Estella) and their 2011 EP Ponte Bomb.

Their sound is described as “electro-tropical” with roots in traditional Colombia folk music called cumbia. According to Afropop Worldwide:

Cumbia, Colombia’s most famous musical genre is actually a term for a number of musical rhythms including porro and puya, with its essence in African percussion. Its highly flirtatious dance is thought to be derived from the festival of La Virgen de Canderia, held every February in Cartegena. The dance is traditionally a couple’s dance. The men dress in all white with a red handkerchief around their necks, while the women wear long flowing skirts. The women also hold a candle, which follows the men in a romantic pursuit, and often fan the flames by fanning the long skirt.

As recently as the first half of the 20th century, the cumbia was considered a vulgar, lower class (i.e. black coastal) musical form by the Colombian government, who also shunned it for its foreign (especially Cuban) elements. It is ironic that in the decades since, it has gone on to become Colombia’s national sound. This coastal fishing music has gone on to incorporate waves of influences along the way, from mambo-cumbias of the 50s to hip-hop cumbias of today. It has also gone on to become one of the most popular genres in Latin America.

Interestingly enough, in some ways, Bomba Estéreo is in the business of both music and activism – using music’s ability to transcend cultural barriers to introduce more people to the sounds of Colombia and showcasing the lives of Afro-Colombians in their videos and songs. In an interview with Sounds and Colors, Simón Mejía explains:

It’s amazing to see how people who don’t talk Spanish get connected with our music, it’s a way of seeing how a so local music can be universal at the time, it’s all about Africa, and about dance music, which connects the whole world around one same feeling.

And in our divided times, it’s fairly amazing to see people consciously seeking connection. In the most passionate review I’ve read of Bomba Estéreo thus far, Sean L. Maloney writes for the Nashville Scene:

The Colombian quartet’s music has been dubbed “electro tropical” and “psychedelic cumbia,” but is really best described as “world music” — not because they fit into standardized, overcurated concepts of non-Anglo-American music, but because they pull influences from the entire fucking world. Equal measures of dub, electronic and hip-hop meet with the transcontinental roots of traditional Colombian folk styles to create a music that is truly global in scope.[...] Blow Up has an emotional resonance that’s found in few records — it’s the sort of record with which one’s barely passing, middle-school-level Spanish comprehension can translate what’s going on. Yes, there’s a language barrier, but it’s more like nylon barricade tape than a razor-wire fence — the literal translation is less important than the universal feelings it conveys. And it’s got a beat you can dance to, which is the most universal of all vocabularies.

But how is this playing out across America circa 2011 — an era when, if you spend much time keeping track of politics, you’ll notice that folks seem to be enthralled with extreme nativist posturing? If our, um, esteemed state legislature is any indication — and dear God, let’s hope it’s not — Americans at the moment are far more interested in stocking their bunkers with assault weapons and Andy Griffith DVDs, making bogeymen out of major religions and polishing their tinfoil hats, than engaging in dialogues with different cultures. Granted, all of this is coming from old white people who seem to think all of the answers can be found up their own ass, but they claim to be speaking for all of America. How is a fiercely political, fiercely progressive Latin band going over in a country that’s, well, a little on edge about all things foreign and different?

“We didn’t know what to expect,” says Salazar. “For instance, we are going to Louisiana for the very first time, and we’re going to North Carolina too. But in Texas, it was really well-received from the very beginning, as well as in New York and San Francisco. … I don’t know about Nashville — maybe all your friends are as excited as you are?”

Maloney is right in many ways – music, like other forms of art, finds ways of leaping across whatever boundaries or divisions we have drawn for ourselves. I don’t speak Spanish but that didn’t diminish the enjoyment of the album at all. When Bomba Estéreo headed through to DC, I grabbed a few friends and headed down to check out the concert. As soon as the set started, the club went wild with people needing to carve out space to move. The beats grab you by the hips and just don’t let go, so it was interesting to watch people meshing salsa moves, grind moves, and trance dancing all in the same space.

Unexpected surprise of the evening? Bomba Estéreo’s tribute to the Technotronic’s 1990s mega smash club hit, “Pump Up The Jam“:

Bomba Estéreo is on MySpace, and Blow Up is available through Nacional Records. Their EP, Ponte Bomb, is available on ITunes.

Earlier in the month, I had spotted a Fast Company article discussing the changing nature of diplomacy in the Obama White House. Alex Ross, the Senior Advisor for Innovation for Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, granted a sprawling interview to Fast Company which addressed embracing transparency and collaboration in a mistrustful global environment.

Some interesting bits:

Upon entering office, Obama vowed an end to cowboy diplomacy. Ross says the U.S. is exercising influence “on a more multilateral basis, and doing so under the frame of global citizenship, less than quote ‘America’s Values’.”

“The language matters,” continues Ross. “We live in such an interconnected world.”

While, to some, talk of interconnectedness may seem like political pandering and boilerplate, to a large swath of the country, it’s an aggressively contentious worldview. Former UN ambassador John Bolton recently called Obama the “most radical president who has ever been elected,” in a speech pointedly titled “the Case against Global Citizenship.”

For instance, while Bolton and other conservatives slammed Obama for prioritizing Egyptian democracy over an America-friendly despot, the State Department was been busy supporting overtly subversive technologies.

[D]irect access to senior officials has been traditionally been reserved for voting constituents–i.e., American citizens. Yet, after the Egyptian revolution, Secretary Clinton held a YouTube-like press conference, especially targeting the tech-savvy activists angry at the U.S. for years of supporting Mubarak.

“The way this would have been done 10 years ago,” says Ross, “is we would have spent a week pre-screening a dozen a Egyptian youth who could have sat with Hillary Clinton around a mahogany table and they would have asked polite questions and we would have gotten a photo op, and we would have had a handful reporters in the room writing nice stories about it.”

Instead, what the below video reveals, are candid responses to hard-hitting questions that include, surprisingly, some unequivocal admissions of failure. When one video commenter asked why the United states “shook hands” with a known dictator, Clinton’s said that the United States had attempted to influence human rights through appeasement and back-door channels, “we were not successful, I will be very honest with you,” she said.

The State Department has limits–and, Wikileaks is one of them. “We don’t believe in radical transparency,” concedes Ross. “Diplomats cannot conduct business in an environment of total transparency”

As an example, he notes, “one of the most effective members of the diplomatic core, Carlos Pascual, our Ambassador to Mexico” had to resign in the wake of leaked cables.

“While I come from a community that implicitly embraces tools and organizations that can open up historically closed institutions and processes, that has its limits, and I think Wikileaks bore that out.”

Ross is cognizant, however, that the level of secrecy has permanently changed. “Going forward, that transparency is only going to increase. The ubiquity and power of the networks and the tools that attach to the networks is only going to increase.”

In our conversations on racial dynamics and oppression – both Stateside and around the globe – we often touch on the issue of global power dynamics. The way in which nations pursue power has long lasting effects, and when we discuss ideas like colonialism, colonization, globalization (and its discontents, to crib from Stiglitz), policy shifts like this one have a major impact on how people relate to each other and how policy is formed.

Readers, what do you think about Ross’ comments?

By Special Correspondent Jessica Yee

Video after video, photo after photo, story after story came pouring in this weekend telling us about another friend or another relative who had been unlawfully arrested, beaten, spit on, psychologically, physically, and emotionally abused and relentlessly harassed by the police in Toronto. All this and more unearthing of human rights happened to the people for demonstrating, protesting, taking action and speaking out against one of the most undemocratic and unethical convenings of the world’s largest superpowers – the G8/G20.

Counts of the number of arrests that took place this past weekend are at some 500 or more – with some having now been released – but so many others remain cramped and overcrowded in the mass jails that were erected in what we know were government and state plans to throw people in and violate their human rights – which is of course in line with the entire theme of the G8/G20. Rubber bullets, tear gas, and pepper spray were deployed by police at will and used against people of all ages who yes – were peacefully protesting (and I’m not going into the less than 100 who were not because they were the very small minority) but more importantly, YES IT IS our civil liberty and fundamental right to do so.

Reports also came rushing in about police keeping people cornered outside in the heavy rain for hours, as well as further accounts of violent police brutality directly inside and outside the jails – and I don’t owe them any benefit of the doubt to believe otherwise. This also occurred two intersections down the street from my house in Toronto.

Now I owe who I am today because of activists and communities of people who wouldn’t shut the f#$! up for the last few hundred years. In fact I don’t think I would be alive today if they hadn’t. I am a descendant of people who fought in Kanasatake, Oka, Quebec which might have started out as the plight of our people, the Kanionke:haka/Mohawk people, taking a stand against the unsanctioned building of a golf course on our traditional lands and burial grounds – but in actuality it was the plight of 500+ years of colonization and genocide towards us and on Mother Earth. The manifestation of it all brought things to a head in Oka, but it also brought Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples from all over the world to our territory to be in solidarity with us. This year marks the 20th anniversary of when it all happened.

Video footage, news reports, and Elder stories from this time at Oka show things that still make my heart sink, my eyes cry, and my voice fill with rage. Effigies of our people being burnt by so-called local non-Native “neighbours”, rocks being thrown into the passing cars of women and children who were supposed to be guaranteed safe passage by authorities but who instead stood by silently as projectiles crashed through their windows, and some of the most horrendous police brutality and severe violence that has ever transpired on Indigenous land.

However it’s not as if the struggle has ever really stopped. It hasn’t. The actions that have taken place around the G8/G20 from Indigenous people, women, people of colour, the poor, the working class, queer and trans people and disabled people have decades, if not centuries, of baggage that lead up to this point of where we are at with zero accountability from governments for the continuation of oppression.

It is essential that we remember Oka and never let it be forgotten because it is times like this where we are reminded of the ominous presence of colonialism and malice from the fear-mongering state – but perhaps even more importantly than that – what it means for peoples to come together and fight back, because WE ARE STILL HERE.

What I want to say to the people whose human rights were violated to the extreme at Oka, as well as these past weeks at the G8/G20, is that I love you. My love is contained in the full support for everything you did and continue to do. I will not allow your work to be obliterated now or ever. Please know that I stand with you for speaking the truth from your heart which no government, police, or jail can silence.

Images courtesy of Reuters and BlogTo

Spoiler Alert + Any use of inappropriate cultural terms or conflation with the original movie is entirely intentional.

The Karate Kid (Jaden Smith) and his Mom (Taraji Henson) are leaving Detroit. Lest you think this is a single black mom/deadbeat dad scenario, we’re told upfront that the Karate Kid’s Dad is dead…period. Detroit is portrayed as a gray, dismal city full of shuttered storefronts. This is America in our continued state of joblessness, America in the 21st century, America on the decline. But China, where they’re headed for Mom’s work, is the land of opportunity, the land of now, the land on the up-and-up, or, as the Karate Kid’s Mom puts it, “a magical new land,” like unicorns live there or something.

The Karate Kid tries out his Mandarin on the Asian dude sitting across the aisle from him on the plane. “Dude, I’m from Detroit,” the Asian dude says. Light laughs from the audience, which is mostly made up of families with tween children and some creepy older loners who probably wanted to be Daniel-san back in the day. My Hardass Asian Mom (HAM) approves of this joke: “Not all Chinese or Asian looking guy speaks Chinese, this is true.”

Meanwhile: Where is my Bananarama remix???

When the Karate Kid and his Mom arrive at the airport, their lady driver is holding a sign for “Mrs. Packer.” Mom corrects the lady driver, telling her the name’s “Parker.” Ah, Engrish!

After settling into their new flat and discovering that they don’t have hot water, the Karate Kid goes looking for their super, who turns out to be Jackie Chan. Jackie Chan ignores the Kid and, instead, picks up a dead fly with his chopsticks, chucks it on the ground, and keeps eating his cup o’ noodles with the same chopsticks. (Which my HAM says would totally happen in China although she told me not to write about it, so, of course, I had to write about it.) The Karate Kid leaves to check out the local park, where we meet his love interest, Meiying. Meiying, aka Mini-Tamlyn Tomita, has the jankiest hybrid haircut–a bob with pigtails–which is sorta cute if you’re into mullets.

And what is Mini-Tamlyn doing in the park? Tuning her violin! And listening to Bach! NATURALLY.

AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT: Speaking of hair, Mini-Tamlyn asks to touch the Karate Kid’s cornrows. Eep.

That’s when the Chinese Billy Zabka comes over, all jealous, and tells Mini-Tamlyn that she should be…practicing the violin. OMG NERD!!! Then Chinese Billy Zabka beats the Kid’s ass, upping his badass quotient considerably. At which point, my HAM takes off her glasses and covers her eyes.

The next day, the Karate Kid covers up his bruises with his mom’s makeup. He looks like he knows what he’s doing. Something tells me his real-life mama Jada’s taught him a trick or two in this department and he may be a few years away from “guyliner,” which means he may be a few years away from being a total Hollywood douche-nozzle. But for now, as much as I hate to admit it, he’s kinda adorbs.

At school, the Karate Kid flirts with Mini-Tamlyn, despite the previous day’s ass-beating.  Even though you can practically smell Chinese Billy Zabka’s RAGE COLOGNE coming around the corner.

AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT #2: She touches his hair again.

But, hey, at least the cultural exchange cuts both ways: Mini-Tamlyn then helps the Karate Kid use chopsticks at lunch. A plot point that my HAM finds unconvincing: “School cafeteria should have serving spoons. Chopsticks is not the only thing Chinese uses.” (Yes, Hollywood, she is available for script fact-checking.) After all that, Chinese Billy Zabka comes over and throws the Karate Kid’s lunch on the floor. Oh well, there was no way he was going to eat that without a fork anyway!

On another day, the Karate Kid and his Mom walk by a kung fu school, where the Karate Kid rushes in, hoping to pick up some mad skillz to battle Chinese Billy Zabka. Little does he know that he’s walked into Chinese Billy Zabka’s lair–aka the Cobra Kai Dojo 2.0, where his Sensei preaches, “No Weakness, No Pain, No Mercy.” The Karate Kid runs out, dejected. His Mom doesn’t get his reaction, but mine does: “Kids usually do not want tell parents what happened in school, sometimes they do not want to worry the parents and try to prove to the parents they can solve their own problem.”

Meanwhile, I’m kinda inappropriately crushing on Chinese Billy Zabka’s best friend, Liang (pictured right), and thinking he’s my Taylor Lautner?

AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT #3: Some Chinese kids at the kung fu school want to touch the Karate Kid’s Mom’s hair. OH GOD MAKE IT STOP.

One day after school, the Karate Kid decides to get back at Chinese Billy Zabka by throwing a drum of dirty water on him while he’s hanging with the other Cobra Kai. The Cobra Kai give chase until they corner the Karate Kid in an alley and beat his ass. My HAM takes off her glasses again. Even when Jackie Chan appears out of nowhere to save the day, she’s still got her eyes shut. At one point, Jackie ties up three guys with one jacket. Jackets, as it turns out, are very important in this movie.

Jackie takes the injured Karate Kid back to his house and uses, and I quote, “Ancient Chinese Healing” on him. Calgon, take me away! And then, I shit you not, fire comes out of Jackie’s hands! FIRE. OUT. OF. HIS. HANDS. Maybe this is a magical land?

So WHERE ARE THE UNICORNS?

And WHERE IS MY BANANARAMA REMIX???

When the Karate Kid is better, an angry Jackie takes the Kid to the Cobra Kai Dojo. Jackie explains to the Karate Kid: “No such thing as bad students, only bad teachers.” HUH?! Try using that excuse on your HAM when you bring home less than an A. Sorry, Jackie, I am not understand the words that are a-coming out of your mouth. Meanwhile, the Cobra Kai 2.0 Sensei turns out to be a real baaaaaaaad teacher. Or, in the words of my HAM: “What an asshole.” Brava, Mama.  Jackie makes a deal with the Asshole Sensei that if Sensei’s boys will leave the Karate Kid alone, the Kid will enter this Open Kung Fu Tournament thingy.

Then, they train. Basically, Jackie makes the Kid take his jacket on and off for months. It’s the new Wax On, Wax Off, only it’s as tedious to watch as it looks to do, and it doesn’t get anyone’s car all nice and shiny. Jackie and the Kid then climb a mountain together, where they see a lady doing some kind of freaky-deaky mind-control martial arts on a cobra–as in, snake–on top of a cliff, a move that looks a whole helluva lot like the Crane from the original movie.

Oops, did I give away too much?

Back in Beijing, the Karate Kid and Mini-Tamlyn play hooky together, which involves them running all around the city with her violin. OMG IS EVERYONE IN THIS MOVIE A NERD??? But that almost makes her late for her big audition for the Beijing Academy of Music, which pisses off her parents, which makes them give the Karate Kid funny looks when they meet him. (Or is it because he’s black? Hmm.) Anyway, my HAM thinks the ambiguity of Mini-Tamlyn’s Hardass Asian Parents’ disapproval makes Chinese people look bad (and by bad, she means, “racist”). Meanwhile, what’s up with Mini-Tamlyn’s white violin teacher only wearing PJ’s all the time? It’s just…creepy. After her audition, Mini-Tamlyn is forced by her parents to tell the Karate Kid: “We can no longer be friends. You are bad for my life.” At which point I just want to hug him and say: Dude, don’t take it personally. Asian parents NEVER like their children’s friends, you know?

Anyway…

One night, Jackie Chan gets shit-faced on the bai jiu. We find out his wife and son were killed a few years back in a car accident and it was kinda his fault. DUDE. This is when the solution to all of these people’s problems dawns on me. Jackie’s wife and child are dead. The Karate Kid’s dad is dead. Eff Karate…the Karate Kid’s Mom and Jackie Chan should totally make out and get married!!! Instead, the Karate Kid and Jackie share a good cry together. Then another thing dawns on me: these two are horrible actors. Awkward tingles ensue as a result of witnessing bad fake crying. I turn to my HAM, who’s holding her nose and sniffing. “Are you crying?” I ask her. She nods yes.

The kung fu tournament is almost upon us. The Karate Kid has been jacketing on and jacketing, er, off this whole time and he’s gotten riiiiiiiiipped. But still, against Cobra Kai, he’s totally effed. Before the tournament, Jackie tells the Kid that “Win or lose, doesn’t matter.” Again…HUH?! Did an Asian person just say that? My HAM isn’t buying it either: “No, no, no, this is so un-Chinese. It matters every thing. Winning is so important to competition, crucial for survive and to have face!” Amen, Mama!

The Karate Kid has one thing to do before the Big Day, and that’s apologize to Mini-Tamlyn’s Hardass Asian Parents for being black. Kidding! Or not. Anyway, he apologizes for something, and Mini-Tamlyn’s parents seem to get over their racism it quickly, and promise that their daughter will be at the Kid’s tournament to cheer him on.

And then, finally, the tournament is here! And even though we know what’s going to happen…OH THE SUSPENSE. As a montage of fight scenes begins, my HAM covers her eyes over her glasses. Chinese Billy Zabka fights this punk with a bitchin’ Mohawk who smooths his own hair instead of bowing at the beginning of each fight. Needless to say, Chinese Billy Zabka totally effs up Mohawk’s shit. Then my Tween Boyfriend, Liang, has to go up against the Karate Kid, and his Sensei tells him to break the Kid’s bones. Some time during that fight, my HAM’s glasses come off and she leans back in her chair like she’s the one who just got kicked in the face. My Tween Boyfriend does some illegal move on the Kid’s leg, gets DQ’ed, and the Kid gets carted off the mat. Mini-Tamlyn and the Karate Kid’s mom follow him and Jackie Chan into the locker room.

A doctor examines the Kid and tells him he’s done, but that he brought honor to his family. The Karate Kid then asks the women-folk to leave. At which point, Jackie repeats the lie, “Win or lose, doesn’t matter.” OMG JACKIE I’M TAKING AWAY YOUR CHINESE CARD FOR THAT. Then he adds, “I cannot watch you get hurt anymore.” Awww. But the Karate Kid wants back in. So Jackie does his Ancient Chinese Healing again, with a little less fire coming out of his hands this time.

There’s only one fight left, and it’s the Karate Kid versus–who else?–Chinese Billy Zabka. As soon as the fight starts, my HAM’s glasses are off again. The Kid somehow gets things tied up at 2-2, at which point, the Evil Sensei tells Chinese Billy Zabka to break the Karate Kid’s leg. “No mercy,” he says. Now that right there, that shit’s Chinese. I resist the urge to whoop.  My HAM takes off her glasses, shuts her eyes and leans back in her chair again. Then Chinese Billy Zabka kicks the shit out of the Karate Kid’s leg. My HAM’s freaking out at this point, her face is in her hands. As the Kid writhes on the ground and tries to recover, my HAM twirls her glasses in her hand like she wants to put them back on, but she can’t. She’s in as much agony as the Kid. Even as he gets up, my mom can’t look. The Karate Kid’s crying from the pain, my HAM’s massaging her chest like she’s feeling his pain in the center of her ribs.

It’s only when a gimpy Karate Kid busts out that Cobra mind control thingy, aka the Crane 2.0, that my HAM opens her eyes a little, and then finally, almost reluctantly, puts on her eyeglasses. Just in time to see the Karate Kid do an impossible backflip thingy into a kick right to Chinese Billy Zabka’s face.

YAY AMERICA!!! AMERICA WINS!!! USA! USA! USA!

The Karate Kid’s Mom and Jackie make out. (Actually, no.)

My Mom, despite spending half the movie with her eyes shut, gives the Karate Kid remake a thumbs-up.  Her final analysis?

“At the end the Evil Master from Kung-fu school, no matter how dirty he wanted his student to do to win, his student lost, and He loss his face big time, but don’t expect he will learn the lesson. He will never change I can guarantee it.”

And my final analysis?

WHERE IS MY GOT DAM BANANARAMA REMIX???

Reader Nancy L sent in an article from the New York Times with an opening that made even this jaded activist do a double take:

RESTINGA SÊCA, Brazil — Before setting out in a pink S.U.V. to comb the schoolyards and shopping malls of southern Brazil, Alisson Chornak studies books, maps and Web sites to understand how the towns were colonized and how European their residents might look today.

The goal, he and other model scouts say, is to find the right genetic cocktail of German and Italian ancestry, perhaps with some Russian or other Slavic blood thrown in. Such a mix, they say, helps produce the tall, thin girls with straight hair, fair skin and light eyes that Brazil exports to the runways of New York, Milan and Paris with stunning success.

So this is how we’re going now? What is this, the hybrid vigor myth on speed?

The smartly-written article takes an interesting turn – while the models associated with Brazil are overwhelmingly white, the country is beginning to embrace nonwhite women who fit their standards of beauty. And yet…

Despite those shifts, more than half of Brazil’s models continue to be found here among the tiny farms of Rio Grande do Sul, a state that has only one-twentieth of the nation’s population and was colonized predominantly by Germans and Italians.

Brazilians are equally perplexed:

The pattern creates a disconnect between what many Brazilians consider beautiful and the beauty they export overseas. While darker-skinned actresses like Juliana Paes and Camila Pitanga are considered among Brazil’s sexiest, it is Ms. Bündchen and her fellow southerners who win fame abroad.

“I was always perplexed that Brazil was never able to export a Naomi Campbell, and it is definitely not because of a lack of pretty women,” said Erika Palomino, a fashion consultant in São Paulo. “It is embarrassing.”

The article is interesting, both for its look into the fashion industry and the strange focus on sites of colonization as portals for beauty scouting. But the whole situation does make me wonder who is responsible for upholding white standards of beauty. This article, I believe, makes a strong case for those who control the images of beauty, and how their preferences can dictate the idea of what is sellable. However, they always throw their decision at the feet of consumers – but who conditions what consumers see as beautiful?

On her blog, Deepa D. posted about what she calls the “Slumdog Shooting technique,” using this video from Greenpeace about climate change:

Deepa says,

Ishan Tankha, photographer…sitting in casually imperial isolation on one of the many historical monuments peppering Delhi…

Meanwhile every other shot? The gaudy, public, and exotically poor street life of Delhi. At most we get some middle class women shopping, some Metro commuters, and Ishan riding his bike in front of the Rashtrapati Bhavan.

But even as he is saying climate change spans all classes, there are no other young, upper class people like him, no rich people, no half-naked out of fashion rather than poverty women, no fat cat industrialists or cavalcade-riding politicians, no indication that there are any of the Westernised English speaking people on the streets, even though Ishan has been chosen spokesperson.

I’m calling this the Slumdog Shooting technique – use English because you don’t want to alienate your Western audience with subtitles, but keep the local colour full of attractive yet needy children, crowds that look struggling, and picturesque poverty.

Also check out our posts on “starving African kids,” juxtaposing wealth and poverty, the white woman’s burden, the “we are all African” campaign, making charity recipients look gross, tourism in Brazil, us and them, Burger King’s Whopper Virgin campaign, India needs western technology, and de-racializing the modern/traditional binary.

Time Magazine reports on women migrant workers who have been raped, and the resulting pregnancies:

While globalization has turned much of the world into a wide-open labor market, it has also created complex human and societal dramas. Women account for up to 50% of the world’s 100 million–strong migrant-worker population — and there is no effective entity to protect their rights and dignity. In 2008, Indonesians working abroad, commonly as domestic staff in the Middle East and parts of Asia, contributed about $6.8 billion to their national economy via remittances, according to the World Bank. And while statistics are difficult to come by, there are increasing reports of many who are physically abused, raped and — in some cases — killed by their employers…

…female migrant workers are raped and then dumped on the streets by their employers, who refuse to give them their passports after discovering that the women are pregnant. The women are then arrested by police and placed in jail. Sometimes they are deported before the child is born.

Normawati says there are dozens of children who were abandoned by migrant workers in homes throughout Jakarta and surrounding areas.

I really appreciate the way this article draws attention to the intersection of gender and workers’ rights.  The article focuses on Indonesian women working in Saudi Arabia and Jordan, but their stories are an illustration of a wider problem — those hit hardest by callous economic policies are almost always poor women of colour.

But it must be said that I do not care for the way Time Magazine characterises the women migrant workers.  The article doesn’t interview any actual migrant workers;  as a result both the mothers and the children they leave are painted as voiceless victims, when there is definitely a lot more to their existence than that. (For example, the women are referred to as “raped migrant mothers” – not “women who were raped while doing migrant work.” Potentially a small difference, but the first phrase reduces the women to the word “raped.”)  As well the article repeatedly emphasises how these women have ABANDONED their children; leaving the reader with a rather crude and over-simplified picture of women in unimaginable situations, forced to make terrible choices.

And while the article points out that countries like Saudi Arabia and Jordan provide insufficient protections for migrant workers, it’s the same story everywhere.

Perhaps another bone to pick with the article is the way it localises problems that pervade the entire world, especially industrialised countries – like the exploitation of migrant workers, violence against women, patriarchal prejudice towards children born of rape – to the Middle East and Indonesia.

For example, Canadian organisation Justicia for Migrant Workers works to protect the rights of migrant workers in Ontario and beyond. J4MW tries to protect workers from both their employers and the Canadian government, whose policies sacrifice workers’ rights for “economic stability.” Their Campaigns page will give you an idea of the kinds of rights violations workers are facing.

Below is a list of other organisations that work for migrant worker rights. I found most of them by asking around and random google searches; if you have more you’d like to add to the list, leave them in the comments! I had trouble finding any organisations that specifically represented women migrant workers and their issues, which is probably pretty telling.

Damayan Migrant Workers Association Holds Health Fair & Gender Rights Training (North Star Fund Blog) (US)
Damayan Migrant Workers Association (US)
United for Foreign Domestic Worker’s Rights (Southeast Asia)
Migrante International Website (Philippines)
Migrante International Blog (Philippines)
Immigration Advocates (US)
United Farm Workers (US)
Pineros y Campesinos Unidos del Noroeste (US)

Thanks to Jane, Angela and Sunny for their help!

Bryant Terry is an eco chef, food justice activist, and author of Vegan Soul Kitchen (VSK): Fresh, Healthy, and Creative African-American Cuisine (Da Capo/Perseus March 2009). For the past nine years he has worked to build a more just and sustainable food system and has used cooking as a tool to illuminate the intersections among poverty, structural racism, and food insecurity. His interest in cooking, farming, and community health can be traced back to his childhood in Memphis, Tennessee, where his grandparents inspired him to grow, prepare, and appreciate good food.

Read more about Bryant here. I interviewed Bryant earlier this year for a project that never got off the ground. However, this interview was too good not to share.

—

So we are here with Bryant Terry who has a new book out called Vegan Soul Kitchen, which is a collection of recipes that look at food and veganism and culture. Can you explain a little about who you are and what you do?

Wow. I do a lot of things. These days, I’ve been saying I’m a creative person who does a number of things that help people be more aware of their environment, particularly their food. I call myself “the eco-chef” and a lot of people ask “well, what’s eco-chef? How did you come up with that term?” And for me, it’s about helping people become more aware of the interconnectedness of all living beings, and how we’re just part of this complex whole with the environment, the animal kingdom, the mineral kingdom, the plant kingdom. I just want to help people to see that, so we can be more compassionate and present, and see how every action we take affects the whole.

Let’s talk about your new book. When you started Vegan Soul Kitchen, what was your motive behind writing this book, and what were you trying to accomplish with it?

I’ll start by saying that I have some issues with both of those terms – both “vegan” and “soul,” meaning “soul food” because I think they can be loaded, and it brings up a lot when you use those terms. I always say “vegan” is a great way to encapsulate what I wanted to do with this book and I’m certainly aware of and very sympathetic to all of the issues that are important to people who understand themselves as vegans. While my diet is devoid of meat, I don’t call myself a vegan; I don’t call myself anything. I talk about the way I’m kind of on a continuum of consumption – I’ve been everything from an omnivore to a vegetarian to vegan to a fruitarian, I think I tried a breath-atarianism for a day. Given the fluidity of my journey, I’ve come to understand that a diet is such a personal journey. I don’t think it’s my place to say what anyone’s diet should be, and I don’t think it’s anyone’s place to say what one’s diet should be, it’s really about checking in and being on that journey with one’s self.

I don’t know if you needed to hear all that, but I wanted to share it. (Laughs)

No, that’s great to actually parse out. I know you did that a little [in your previous book] Grub, where you talked about how you didn’t want people to be sneaking around outside of their food boundaries. Can you explain that concept a bit more?

I came to that conclusion because of my own process, having been a vegetarian and then kind of moving into strict veganism and having a moment where I wanted to have some cheese and I wanted to have eggs, and I just felt like I might be hypocritical if I do that, or others might judge me, or the judgment coming from myself. And I felt a similar anxiety from other people who defined their diets in the same way, who felt that they needed to or wanted to shift their dietary pattens. I had a friend who was a strict vegan and she got pregnant, and for whatever reason, she decided that she wanted to start eating fish. And she was so anxiety-ridden about sharing that with friends, with family members, with colleagues, because she felt like it would somehow be such a departure from all the values she had been expressing about who she was. I really want people to feel free to just shift and change and not feel like they’re going to be damned to hell if they do that.

That’s fascinating, especially when you look at the conversations we’re having around food in the public sphere, especially as people are starting to realize that the issue we have around food and consumption and the issues we have concerning the environment are in some way linked. There is a lot of discussion of guilt around people’s food choices, or a lot of moralizing that it’s better to be vegetarian or it’s better to eat more vegetables. You got into that a bit in Grub – [the idea that] there are things that are better for your body, there are things that are worse for your body, but it’s more of a whole conscious eating.

Yeah, before I forget, I wanted to go back to your question about my new book and what motivated me to write it. The impetus to write this book came from me feeling so upset, almost livid, at the way in which African-American cuisine was being – and continues to be, in many ways – vilified, through the media, through public health officials, as kind of the bane of African American health. “African Americans are suffering from the highest rates of obesity and the highest rates of illnesses and it’s because of this soul food!” The big monstrous soul food. After I realized that, it pushed me to investigate the history of African American cuisine more and it hit me one day when I was reading this book, The Welcome Table, by this African American food writer/cookbook author/historian Jessica B. Harris, and she said that “African American cuisine or soul food was simply something black people ate for dinner.”

It wasn’t until the 1960s that it was given this term as a way that black activists, living in the urban north, were reclaiming the cuisine as they were reclaiming a number of cultural things that were important to African Americans – so reclaiming soul music or our roots in Africa. [The idea was] this is our food, this is our cuisine. But unfortunately, the popular media picked up on that, and a lot of white journalists only illuminated the more exotic aspects of the cuisine. So when they wrote about it in these different magazines and newspapers, they talk about pig’s feet and the internal viscera of animals. And all these things that are part of the cuisine, but it kind of reduced it to all these interesting things that “the other” was eating. What it made me realize is that what people think about is just a small part of a very complex and rich diverse cuisine that is very rooted in a lot of things food activists say we should embrace in our eating now. Food is as local as a backyard garden, as seasonal as whatever’s in season, and as fresh as being harvested right before the meal.

And when I think about growing up in Memphis and having grandparents that grew up in rural Mississippi, that brought with them this agrarian knowledge and connection to the land and the environment and all this care for the earth that they had to Memphis, which is an urban center, and having this backyard garden that was kind of like an urban farm, and having these all these fruit trees and nut trees in the backyard that was like a mini orchard, and they way that they were harvesting food for our family, and bartering, and sharing with neighbors…you know, in so many of these practices that people are touting as the way we need to move toward for environmental sustainability, the sustainability of our health, these things are part of our cultural heritage and I just wanted to help people remember. I wanted to help African-Americans remember, help the general public remember that this is as much as part of our legacy as it is anyone else’s.

Whoo, that was a lot!

It was great though, and it really does start speaking to these ideas we have ingrained about food and what our own food legacy is. We’ve been examining [cultural ideas around food] and so many of us are sharing these stories about being from a Latino cultural background or a Polish cultural background, and sitting down at the table with our new food beliefs and having our families not understand why we would want to give these things up. They reject some of our food choices because they are interpreting [our rejection of meat or fatty foods] as a rejection of them. In all your work that you’ve done as an eco-chef, what have you uncovered about food in terms of culture and how we relate to each other?

When you talked about diets changing and adapting, it made me think about the way in which African-Americans, like most Americans, saw the globalization of agriculture, the mechanization of agriculture and the industrialization of food over the past three or four decades as a good thing. It’s cheap, it’s fast, it’s convenient – hey, what’s wrong with this? We’re modern and we want to be with the times. And we wholeheartedly embraced this in many ways – not everyone, but we really embraced it. And it’s not just African-Americans. It’s so many people of different backgrounds. When I have been giving talks lately about this issues, it resonates with people from Appalachia, it resonates with immigrants from Latin America, it’s something that is of concern in so many different cultures and communities that in all cases, we need to figure out how can we re-embrace those old ways. How can we get back to the ways that sustained our parents, and our grandparents?

And I think, most importantly, what we’ve lost is our sense of community and sharing and connecting, because that was so embedded and ingrained in all the other things around our food systems and those are things we have to be re-embracing in these next moments, in this period of economic strife and people tightening belts. If we’re going to get through it, I think we really have to think how can we be in relationship with our neighbors and all of these formal and informal kinship networks to help each other?

Let’s circle back to the question I posed before about how we are discussing food in the mainstream media right now. I know that food has become this huge issue and it’s a really hot topic right now. We’ve had all these people publishing books like Mark Bittman and Michael Pollan and we’re talking about food and how it impacts the Earth. I noticed that there are a lot of ideas around guilt. That people should be guilted into eating a certain way or a different way, and I think that’s where there is a lot of disconnect occurring when you try to get people to realize the issues at stake. How would you reframe the conversation?

Yeah, hmmm…

I know, it’s a tough one.

It’s just complex. I feel like I’d have to ruminate on that a bit before I could really give a distinct answer.

Well, feel free to just think about it as we talk, and if you have any thoughts later, feel free to offer them. Another thing that comes up often in these discussions is the role of the poor – and more specifically, the role of the poor as the cause of their own dietary issues. I notice this a lot on larger health blogs, like the one run by the New York Times. There seems to be this idea that the poor eat horrible food because it’s their culture or they just want to. There doesn’t seem to be any real engagement with the barriers and issues that comes with trying to eat in season, and have a healthy diet full of fruit and vegetables that people seem to take for granted that [economically disadvantaged areas] just have equal access to all of these things. Could you talk a little more about that?

One of the biggest things I uncovered in my work, especially working with young people in New York City through the organization I founded called B-healthy, is that a lot of people living in low income areas and urban areas are living in what are known as food deserts. They have very little access to fresh food – healthy, local, sustainable, all that – and have an overabundance of the worst foods, the fried things, the packaged fast food that has a negative impact on their overall health. Lack of access to healthy food is a huge issue, and it’s only one indicator of material deprivation these people are living with. In these neighborhoods, I visited, it wasn’t as if they just lacked access to healthy food and everything else was great. Usually it would be failing infrastructure, dilapidated schools, high levels of illiteracy, low income. So I think it is one issue that has to be addressed of many among these people living in these historically excluded communities are dealing with.

I certainly applaud the efforts of independent organizations – such as the Food Project in Boston, Added Value in Brooklyn, NY, The People’s Grocery in West Oakland, California. The work they are doing is important around creating healthier food systems and educating people in these communities about health food and agricultural issues. And I realized that this moment that we’re in – where we are looking at increased urbanization in the US and globally – we have to be producing more food in cities, we have to be creating more access to local food systems in urban centers, and we cannot rely on these organizations with the express goal of working around these issues to do it. It’s just too much weight for them to carry. There are so many organizations that exist in these same communities that we just described – faith based institutions, community based institutions – that people trust and go to regularly in these communities that have financial capital and land and people, and we want them to really work and help us increase the access [of] and awareness of healthy food, whether it be through community gardens, urban farms, connecting with local farms to bring more food into urban centers. I almost feel like these institutions have to take the lead. I’ve seen well meaning projects that go into low income communities to do work fall flat on their faces because they don’t really have the trust, or they don’t understand the cultural norms of the community. There is some disconnect that is happening, and I feel like it’s almost imperative for the organizations that people trust to work around these issues, and go beyond health fairs and diagnosing the problem.

We know! We know that people in these communities are suffering from the highest rates of obesity and diet related illness. We know that too many of us are dying too early. So what can we do to actually prevent this? What can we do to address it before it gets to the point where we’re just telling people they have six months to live, or they need to start taking all these pharmaceuticals.

(To be continued next week.)

(Above: Police arrive with heavy reinforcements to forcefully remove demonstrators PHOTO: Thomas Quirynen)

The rhetoric was sharp enough to cut down Amazonian hardwoods. Yesterday, Sunday June 7th, after a number of ministers had been paraded out Saturday and the day before, Peru’s el Señor Presidente, Alan Garcia decided to make it personal. After a joint police-military operation aimed at stopping an Indigenous protest had gone awry, leaving many dead on both sides, Garcia declared the Indigenous elements to be standing in the way of progress, in the path of national development, wrenches in the gears of modernity, and part of an international conspiracy to keep Peru down. In a troubling statement on the resemblance of the Indigenous protesters to the infamous Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) armed insurrection, Garcia seemed to imply the Natives were a band of terrorists as he stood in front of hundreds of military officers in a nationally televised speech. He continued to decry the Indian barbarity and savagery, and called for all police and military to stand against savagery.

Clearly, the battle lines were being drawn. Garcia demonstrated he is not about to allow anything to get in the way of “our development” of the oil and mineral resources the Amazon has to offer. Especially by a bunch of confused savages (his words) who are pawns to the international market and to Indian elites and therefore have no real reason to be resisting. At this point, it was obvious he thought nothing of the Indigenous cause, and what they actually stood for. There is too much money to be extracted from oil, from minerals, from logging, and from possible agriculture in the Amazon region, the 2nd largest stretch outside of Brazil. All on land with less than 200,000 Indigenous people. All now supposed to be open for business, as a result of a series of laws passed under the auspices of Free Trade Agreements signed with both Canada and the United States.

(Above: Indigenous protestors confront the police on the highway outside Bagua PHOTO: Thomas Quirynen)

All those who lost their lives – certainly more than the 30 or so officially cited – have in the end given their lives for these free trade agreements and their domestic implementation. After wresting a concession from Congress – a la Bush – Garcia was able to push through 99 changes to the law of Peru. A number of these were ruled unconstitutional later, one dealing with property law standing out. Indigenous groups disputed from the beginning that these laws threatened the integrity of the Amazon, its cultural and biological diversity. Since the beginning, they were ignored. Living up to their Amazonian warrior mythology, they decided to take action.

Protests have lasted now over 50 days, only recently erupting into bloodshed when Garcia suspended civil liberties, declared a state of emergency, and decided to send in the military to end the dispute. This was all done in the name of Garcia’s idea of ‘democracy,’ which should be farcical to anyone who has the least idea what democracy means. Indigenous groups have maintained they want to be included in this so-called democracy, meaning they have a say over what happens in their lands, and that their rights be respected. This is clearly within international law now, after the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples was approved two years ago.

(Above: Police take away so called Indigenous ‘terrorist’ PHOTO: Thomas Quirynen)

The Declaration lays out provisions that clearly establish the rights to free, prior and informed consent over development projects in Indigenous territories, and the right to be involved in any decision making processes that would impact on Indigenous Peoples’ lands, resources or rights. Repeated demands have called for there to be dialogue with Indigenous groups. Garcia’s response? Yes, there has been dialogue – within the government, by elected officials. Obviously, this hasn’t done enough to safeguard the rights, the lives, and the livelihoods of Amazon peoples, and a number of the new laws have been shown to be unconstitutional. Indigenous leaders quickly condemned the tragic loss of lives as the fault of the government, who was not committed to dialogue, but arms. Even the ex-president has placed the blame on Garcia for not seeking dialogue with Indigenous representatives.

Lamentably, this whole situation could have easily been prevented, had the government cared enough about its own citizens’ lives and effective dialogue more than getting its own way. Instead, on Friday morning, police and military descended on an Indigenous encampment near the Amazonian towns of Bagua Chica and Bagua Grande. Reports from the ground contradict the government version, in which security forces, reluctant to use force, were ambushed and had to defend themselves with bombs, helicopters, and machine guns. Other reports establish that a private meeting was held between the military, the Indigenous leadership, and a local bishop, among others, the night before the violence. Indigenous groups were reportedly given until 10am to make a decision to leave or stay, and were guaranteed that nothing would happen until then. In response, many decided to go home. But the government apparently lied. The operation started around 6am.

Local sources instead claim they were sleeping, unarmed, when bullets were fired in their direction. When the police finally arrived to physically remove protesters, it was then that many police were disarmed, killed, or taken prisoner by the masses of protesters, probably numbering over 2,000 in days prior, now down to a few hundred. By now, the war had been declared, and wouldn’t stop well into the night as police and military continued in a violent sweep, ending up going into the towns and reportedly searching house by house in vengeance. Police entered with weapons of war against civilians. Now the military has been reported to be wearing civilian clothing to carry out what seems more and more to resemble a civil war. Families decry that they haven’t been allowed to enter the areas to search for missing family, or enter jails to visit and feed prisoners. All this done in a declared state of emergency, with many liberties and human rights withdrawn for local citizens.

Then came the outrage. But not by locals or Indigenous groups, though that was palpable. By the very same government who initiated the action. Their reports came out throughout the next day – a dozen security forces murdered in cold blood, maybe 3 Indians hurt. Now 24 police and military cruelly assassinated, about 9 Indians dead (no information how). The choice of words is translated from government pronouncements, and reflects their dim view of Indigenous deaths, despite many being civilians, with a few children among those murdered.

(Above: Battle continues in Bagua town PHOTO: AIDESEP)

On the other side, Indigenous groups reported at least 30 civilians and Natives were killed, but also that government officials had gone through lengths to disappear some of the bodies, a claim documented by Amazon Watch (see link below). Some AIDESEP members in the communities dispute that the number is much higher, closer to 100, including peasants and civilians. Video evidence clearly shows Natives armed only with spears against a tactical unit in one confrontation, and photos show police firing live weapons from the roofs, reportedly into crowds gathered below. A national newspaper even reported that one could clearly find pictures of more than a dozen Natives and civilians dead, online. No matter, the numbers had suddenly taken on a new importance.

This had been the worst episode of violence since the 90′s, so one might think the government might want to cut its losses and signal a shift towards more productive measures. Indeed, both sides could claim that they lost a number of lives, impetus to stop the bloodshed. Except that the war had already been declared, and may only be heating up. Hence the president’s fiery rhetoric, about how dare the savage Indians hurt our humble police, who didn’t want to raise their weapons. With their claim of nearly 30 deaths to the Indians’ 9 pushed them to call it a massacre (matanza, masacre) and seemed to pave the ethical and emotional road towards stronger retaliation, as all news channels were flooded with pictures of the soldiers bodies being flown out. The president of the ministers’ congress today appeared before congress and on national television to decry all the foreign news reports that fail to coincide with official numbers. Not only that, of course, these Natives were getting in the way of our development, of our modernity, denying us our basic human rights. Many of these government claims are thin disguises to misrepresent the Indigenous movement and its positions.

Take the issue of development. Indigenous communities have repeatedly said they aren’t against development, but it has to be a different kind of development, one more responsible. A reasonable claim, especially considering that the loss of the Amazon rainforest is one of the top drivers of climate change. On the issue of leadership and responsibility, the government has maintained that this was a top-down movement led by Alberto Pizango, president of AIDESEP, the Interethnic Association for the Development of the Peruvian Rainforest, an Indigenous organization with representation from Amazon communities. This flies in the face of the history of the protest, which has literally involved thousands of communities, and shown itself to be led by local communities in their own decision making structures. The government has instead tried to pin the blame on Pizango as the main instigator, as a political agent of other parties or perhaps other countries, and a criminal mastermind who has tricked his followers into rallying against perfectly good legislation. They have gone so far as to issue a warrant for his arrest now, with many news reports hinting he has fled to Bolivia, and the Indigenous leadership have lost contact with him.

The other easily disputed claim is that this is an Indigenous movement uniquely, the implication being that this does not apply to anyone non-Indigenous, and others should repudiate the movement. It is well known in and around the Amazonian towns, however, that there have consistently been Mestizos, those of mixed race who make a slim majority of Peruvians, as part of the movement. In recent days reportedly a number of disenfranchised army reservists also decided to join the Indigenous cause. Looking at the protests in and around Bagua, it can clearly be seen that as many as half the protesters were not Indigenous, but were there in support. Also in the past, it has been a number of labour unions and farmer groups that have participated in national strikes, concerned over the same free trade agreements as Amazon communities. The implications here are critical, though, and seem to seek a precedent in declaring the Indigenous movement to be a criminal, or even terrorist, movement and outlaw their activities, organizations, and politics.

What comes next? On the Indigenous side, there have been calls for a national strike on Thursday, the 11th. In this case, many labour groups have been involved from the beginning, so it remains to be seen whether this will go farther than strikes in the past, which have shut down vital transportation and oil infrastructure, as well as Machu Picchu, the main tourist destination of Peru. Indigenous leaders have said, however, their protest will continue until they are able to renegotiate the controversial laws. On the government side, we can only wait and hope for the best. If the inflamed words and rallying of the troops are any indication, however, they may be getting ready to try and strike down harder on the Indigenous movement sooner rather than later. Reports have come in that Special Forces have been seen in the area. All this may spell out more bloodshed in the name of democracy. However, they are also acutely aware they are under the international microscope right now, despite the lack of substantial media reporting about the situation here in Peru.

And that may be where hope rests. This is a critical moment, as the government plans its next steps. There needs to be a strong international focus on Peru, to let them know they cannot get away with more human rights abuses. Already, protests are planned across the United States, with more in planning in Canada. Letters have been sent to the government and to representatives at embassies around the world. AIDESEP has called for a national inquiry into the events of Bagua and the deaths. They have also issued a request for an international observer committee to come and be witnesses to the situation. A national strike is planned for this Thursday, with participation from diverse groups, calling for resolution to the situation and the resignation of Alan Garcia. AIDESEP is also collecting funds to aid in its work and support observers to get into the region.

A curfew has been imposed. Amazonian towns have been militarized. AIDESEP officials are in communication with the communities that there are many missing, many presumed dead. The government has begun persecuting and threatening jail for Indigenous leaders, while the leaders have said they are ready to go to jail to defend their rights. The fear is growing that the government is trying to build support to further repress Indigenous groups. This is not a path to peace and reconciliation.

For now, the protests will continue. If we are serious about safeguarding the human rights of the Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples of the Amazon, we need to act now. The violent repression of Indigenous protests and the loss of civil liberties must come to an end. If we want to protect and preserve the Amazon, and its bio-cultural diversity, especially in the face of climate change, there is no better protection than keeping it under the control of those who have maintained it forever. The free trade laws that open up the Amazon to logging, mining, oil and agroindustry must be suspended. Indigenous Peoples’ rights – to self-determination, to their lands and resources, to their lives – must be protected and guaranteed. If we are to stop other atrocities and bloodshed, the battle line must be withdrawn, immediately, and there must be dialogue.

For up-to-date information and planned actions: http://peruanista.blogspot.com/

So far actions are planned in Canada, the US, Australia, India and more.

Website of AIDESEP: Aidesep, pueblos indígenas amazónicos del Peru | Portada

Donations can be made to “SOLIDARIDAD AIDESEP”, at
Bank Name: Banco de Crédito del Perú
Account number: 193-1070011-1-01
Account name: AIDESEP-VARIOS
Swift Code: BCPLPEPL
Address: Jr. Lampa 499, Cercado de Lima, Peru

Peruvian news network, with many (shocking) videos: http://enlacenacional.com/

Collection of actions to take and media sources: http://beckermanlegal.com/Peru.htm

In depth analysis of the situation: https://nacla.org/node/5879

AmazonWatch investigates disposed bodies: http://www.amazonwatch.org/newsroom/view_news.php?id=1843

Send a letter to Peruvian officials: http://amazonwatch.org/peru-action-alert.php

Preliminary blog: Calm at the Center of the Storm: Reporting from the Amazonian Peoples’ Headquarters in Lima | rabble.ca

More photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/powless/sets/72157619320374511/

Democracy Now! Report: http://intercontinentalcry.org/democracy-now-reports-on-bagua-massacre/

News Report from Australia: http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2009/06/08/2592391.htm?section=world

Before I utter any statements of depth in this piece, I have to present a bias. Though not meant to offend those who believe in proselytizing, I find myself firmly standing on the side of those against it. If you feel that religion and/or a faith tradition of some sort is your source of hope, guidance for life, and possibly even your ticket to eternal salvation, so be it. I respect that, and I fully honor the right we each have to practice some form of the aforementioned. However, the second you start telling me or someone else which form is best (read: which version will prevent me from burning in hell for the rest of eternity), we’ve got beef.

With that said, I want to go ahead and put it out there that I take issue with the bulk of missionary work (past and present), especially that which takes place in developing nations. It is a reminder of the power of nations who sit firmly and comfortably in their G8 seats, spectators in a game of international tennis. Only in the case of missionary work, the victory comes at a higher price, one that can mean not only renouncing one’s culture, but also one’s religion (or at least denouncing it in public) as a means of attaining vital resources. This is not to say that missionaries have not done good work. There are countless records of missionaries who have helped others in excellent ways, minus all the religious rhetoric. However, even if the message of faith lies in no more than an utterance or the simple presence of the mission’s name, missionary work nevertheless boils down to a political campaign in the name of God.

In light of my objection to this line of work, I find myself dealing with a mental conflict almost every day of my present job. My campaign has nothing to do with God, but in terms of international influence, the English language and American culture come pretty darn close. Though I have been teaching English in Brazil since July of 2008, there are still a few things about my current profession that rub me the wrong way. The source of my discomfort in teaching my mother tongue lies in implications more so than tangible, empirical evidence, thus making my inner turmoil all-the-more “inner.” Much like a mosquito bite on the sole of your foot, my conflict has been an itch I can’t quite scratch.

Before enrolling in the program in which I am involved, I already knew I wanted to live in Brazil for a few months to a year to have more exposure to Brazilian culture, particularly an aspect of it that involved more of the quotidian variety. I was looking to go beyond the favela-riddled, bikini-clad, beach bathing, rainforested Brazil with which we are presented on our television screens and in our Netflix queues. I wanted to be forced to speak Portuguese on a regular basis and pushed a bit beyond my comfort zone. I was not looking for a spoiled, privileged, escapist ex-pat experience of the Eat Pray Love genre.

The easiest way to achieve my goal was to teach English here, but I knew in the back of my mind, I would be presented with interesting challenges that I may not have faced if I had chosen another route to secure a job in Brazil. For one, I would have to be a de facto representative of American Culture ^TM. My language and my country would be placed center stage during class, but what Americans do, eat, buy, and think would be the main topic of conversation at all other times as well. I would be reduced to a living, breathing souvenir. Yet in actuality, I find myself to be a bit of a disappointment to my students and the Brazilian English teachers, not for lack of teaching skills, but for lack of conforming to their ideas of Americans and American life.

Before moving to Brazil, I lived in New York City for six years, so even my view of most Americans was one I took with foreign eyes. I often considered myself somewhat isolated from what most would consider “American culture” mainly because I had lived in NYC, which is clearly more of an international city than say Memphis, Tennessee, the city of my birth. I listen to Metronomy, Surkin, and J*Davey instead of Rihanna, Fall Out Boy, and Snoop Dogg (all of whom have achieved considerable success in Brazil thanks to MTV). I have a considerable amount of tattoos. I am a vegetarian who likes international food. I am agnostic. I am not a fan of Nike, Tommy, or any popular clothing brands. I am not a classic American beauty. And on top of all that, I am black, which still throws some people for a loop here in Brazil because most people assume I am Brazilian until I open my mouth.

Though Brazil’s access to American media has expanded rapidly thanks to globalization, the films, music, and popular culture to which Brazilians are exposed is clearly the dominate culture, of which I do not really consider myself a part. The idea of Americans that many Brazilians have as a result of this type of media is not exactly the most accurate. We are considered arrogant, ignorant, and overweight on the one hand, but filthy rich, glamorous, and perfect on the other. There is very little room for anything from the margins, and even what is thought to be “alternative” is still the same old simulacra. Nevertheless, I have to put on a happy face and endure countless questions related to the subjects above, only to be followed by my response, which is usually something like “I have no idea who that is. I download my music from European blogs. Sorry!” or “Well, no, I don’t eat bacon in the morning, because I don’t eat meat, not even the white kind, which I know is not considered meat here.”

And though the questions can be tiring, I can understand why they are asked. What is more exhausting is processing the reality that as a result of the onslaught and heavy influence of American mainstream media by way of music, films, and other forms of entertainment (including sports), many elements of Brazilian culture are becoming a non-entity in the eyes of many young Brazilians. Brazilian televised news devotes about a fourth of their broadcasts to American politics. Brazilian culture, as the world becomes flat and so easily navigable because of the internet, is being quickly altered to closely resemble ours. Unfortunately, I am caught in the middle. I represent another side of American culture, which can be a good thing for my students, but I am American nonetheless, and some will never see me as anything more than that.

I have somewhat come to terms with my curio status, and at times celebrate it, mainly when Americans show a sign of intelligence in their choices (ahem Obama), but other times, I feel that my presence symbolizes a modern neo-imperialism, though through culture and language as opposed to direct territorial or financial dominance (albeit, those still play a major part in the case of Brazilian/American relations). There are zillions of English schools throughout the country, some of which have a direct link to the United States Embassy, and many Brazilians see learning English as a means of improving their lives, especially in terms of career success. Many of my adult and teenage students alike say that they are taking English in hopes of securing a good job in the future.

Yet in this time of greedy linguistic and cultural consumption, I worry of the looming backlash. I have some students who explicitly reject any and all aspects of American culture and are generally disgusted by Americans, save me (as an exception because I am their teacher), but who are begrudgingly taking English as language skills are seen as one of the few ways to separate oneself from the competition. Even some of my youngest students admit that they are only taking English because their parents are making them, unaware that their budding skill may help them put food on the table in a decade or two.

Seeing this saddens me and further fortifies my personal belief that though clearly beneficial in the long term, teaching English is its own form of missionary work. The parallels to missionary work that are demonstrated in terms of some students’ reluctance to learn when coupled with a frightening pressure to do exactly that in order to simply stay occupationally and culturally afloat worry me. In addition, access to recreational English classes are afforded only to middle and upper class Brazilians, which has previously caused a rift between some English teachers applying to work in Brazil and a few of the Brazilian consulate offices who believe that access to learning English and the skills thus acquired are deepening the divide between the rich and the poor. From what I have seen, I find it hard to disagree. And that’s speaking toward language studies in both Brazil and the United States.

In New York City, maniacal parents have infants who can barely articulate basic monosyllabic words in English taking baby French and baby German so their children will have a better chance of entering elite, private academic and hyper-selective public schools, and even then, nothing is guaranteed. Yet in general, beyond the basic needs met by pre-vacation language book purchases, i.e. how do you say “where is the bathroom?” few Americans are breaking their necks to learn any other language, despite our growing immigrant population. We barely have a handle on English, so God forbid we make an effort to devote attention to some foreign “babble” that we don’t need to speak anyway, right? “This is America. Speak English,” so goes the motto. Yet in our stubbornness to learn another language and general indifference to the prospect of our society and culture changing dramatically as a result of immigration and the expansion of 2nd-generation families in the next few decades, we are doing ourselves a grave disservice.

As a teacher of English in Brazil who already speaks Portuguese, I am a rare breed. Even my students were shocked that I had taken a time to learn a language that, in their words, everyone always just confuses with Spanish. In addition to the language surprise, my students were also interested in the fact that I had been to Brazil several times before, and knew that Brazil was about more than Carnaval. But despite these differences, the things that set me apart from other teachers they had previously had, I still wondered if intent mattered at this point.

In being an “unusual” American to them, there is an obvious benefit, but the shame that sometimes comes with my nationality, due mainly to the international reception of our behavior and the aggressive promotion of our culture abroad, can outweigh any good I intend to do as a teacher. In recognizing the big picture, I may be overanalyzing, but in being a part of this neo-imperialist process, whether or not I have direct control in it, I still have days when I am uncomfortable with my work. I know that I am empowering my students with a valuable skill that will earn them considerable respect in the future, but I wish that more of my fellow countrymen were making an attempt to be more connected to the world as well, instead of continuing to spread American culture with their blinders on.

The tomato comes from Peru and spaghetti was probably a gift from China.

It is, though, the “foreign” kebab that is being kicked out of Italian cities as it becomes the target of a campaign against ethnic food, backed by the centre-right Government of Silvio Berlusconi.

The drive to make Italians eat Italian, which was described by the Left and leading chefs as gastronomic racism, began in the town of Lucca this week, where the council banned any new ethnic food outlets from opening within the ancient city walls.

Yesterday it spread to Lombardy and its regional capital, Milan, which is also run by the centre Right. The antiimmigrant Northern League party brought in the restrictions “to protect local specialities from the growing popularity of ethnic cuisines”.

Luca Zaia, the Minister of Agriculture and a member of the Northern League from the Veneto region, applauded the authorities in Lucca and Milan for cracking down on nonItalian food. “We stand for tradition and the safeguarding of our culture,” he said.

Mr Zaia said that those ethnic restaurants allowed to operate “whether they serve kebabs, sushi or Chinese food” should “stop importing container loads of meat and fish from who knows where” and use only Italian ingredients.

Asked if he had ever eaten a kebab, Mr Zaia said: “No – and I defy anyone to prove the contrary. I prefer the dishes of my native Veneto. I even refuse to eat pineapple.”

—Richard Owen in his article “Italy Bans Kebabs and Foreign Foods from Cities” writing for The Times Online

I am an immigrant woman of the Two-Thirds World, who is living with the One-Third World.

I first came across Esteva and Prakash’s concept of the One Third/Two Thirds World via Chandra Mohanty’s Feminism Without Borders. The concepts recognize the transnational nature of capital, and how policies instituted by people in the One-Third World (middle and upper classes in the North and elites in the South) destabilize the lives of those in the Two-Thirds World, comprised by majority of the world’s population.

And most of the time, those of us in the One-Third World remain unaware of how our actions, well-meaning or otherwise, generate and perpetuate poverty and hardship.

For example, many of us in the One-Third World rarely reflect on our patterns of consumption, on how overconsumption contributes to substandard working conditions in Export Processing Zones around the world. If you’ve ever bought clothes from Nike, the Gap, or purchased products from Walmart and Target, for example, please take a minute to consider why your purchases seem so “affordable.” Ditto with that $2 bottle of wine from Trader Joe’s.

If you want to help those in poverty, take some more time to consider the consequences of top-down assistance programs that are instituted without any input or consultation from the communities themselves. This includes turning a critical eye on programs that present capacity-building and microcredit as solutions to poverty, rather than stopgap measures to systemic problems that are exacerbated by globalization. This means actually listening to the people in communities when they say that they need healthcare and education programs instead of yet another start-up handicraft business.

On a more macro level, Gayatri Spivak challenges us to work on developing a transnational consciousness. She addresses feminists specifically, but the message holds for anyone committed to social justice,

Feminists with a transnational consciousness would also be aware that the very civil structure here that they seek to shore up for gender justice can continue to participate in providing alibis for the operation of the major and definitive transnational activity, the financialization of the globe, and thus the suppression of the possibility of decolonization—the establishment and consolidation of a civil society there, the only means for an efficient and continuing calculus of gender justice everywhere.

(Spivak, A Critique of Postcolonial Reason, emphasis hers)

Because no, it’s not enough that you feel good about giving a few dollars in microloans to those poor needy people or that you buy Fair Trade coffee. The very reason for this year’s Blog Action Day is that poverty continues, despite programs already in place, despite the well-meaning actions of otherwise good people.

Those of us privileged to live our lives as part of the One-Third World are in a position to develop our transnational consciousness, to reflect on how our patterns of overconsumption, our ways of doing business, the different ways that we seek to fulfill our wants and desires, affect other lives. On how our tacit support for neoliberalism and economic structures built on inequality has engendered poverty in the Two-Thirds World.

On how to act, to be allies to transnational movements working on poverty and social justice.

Many of us are in the One-Third World. But by being critical of our choices, by striving to develop our transnational consciousness, we can live in solidarity with those in the Two-Thirds World.

It’s a platform, on which we can begin to address poverty in profound and truly life-changing ways.

It’s easy to understand the appeal of microcredit. Poor women from the Global South use loans as small as $20 to start businesses and lift themselves from poverty. The creditors make a profit when the loans are repaid. Win-win.

What do they say about things that look too good to be true?

A whopping 90 to 99 percent of these loans are paid back with interest, another shining indicator of microcredit’s success. But there is an ugly side to ensuring repayment, where poor women are made to police one another and punish defaulters with collective acts of aggression.

In her study of Grameen Bank microcredit programs in rural Bangladesh,* Leila Karim finds that the focus on the 98 percent loan recovery rate hides how beneficiaries are co-opted into “a political economy of shame.”

Microcredit works by appropriating the only social capital poor women possess — their virtue and family honor. Among the Ifugao women in the northern Philippines,** microcredit beneficiaries are grouped into cohorts of five to fifteen members. They are given clear instructions: “You are all responsible for the loan and have to make sure that no one defaults.”

This lays the foundation of a very effective surveillance system, wherein poor women monitor other poor women. And the poorest women, the ones who need loans the most, are evicted from the group to minimize the risk of default.

Given the surprising lack of entrepreneurial or job skills training in microcredit schemes, it’s not unusual for a member to default on her loan. This is when things get even uglier, as the other women in the cohort are forced to extract payment.

In Bangladesh, for example, women march off together to publicly scold a member who falls behind on her loan payments. The cohort would also scold her husband in public. If she could not produce the money, the other women in her cohort would take anything that could be sold for loan payments — her cows and chicks, grain from her family’s pantry, uprooted trees and plants from her yard. Even her gold nose-ring, an important symbol of marital status for rural women.

When even these repossessions were not enough to repay the loan, the cohort could instigate the ultimate dishonor of ghar bhanga (literally, “house-breaking”), where the defaulting member’s house is sold off to pay for the microloan.

The institution of microcredit has thus forged social relations based on shared debt, undermining previous ones based on shared labor and trust. Women informed on potential defaulters or members who used the capital for unauthorized purposes, such as buying food. Women who defaulted on loans have been taken to police stations and locked with criminals until their families made payments. The resulting shame from all these actions cause wives to lose their honor and virtue, and have led husbands to file for divorce.

Small wonder then that women go to great lengths to make their loan payments. Ifugao women reported an increase in their workhours, taking on additional income activities selling homemade foodstuffs. Other women have reported cutting back on family expenses like food and children’s school items.

In emergencies, women who have diverted loans to subsistence purposes have turned to moneylenders. Women who took on microloans to achieve self-sufficiency instead found themselves even more baon sa utang.

These difficulties illustrate a failure that microcredit programs share with other top-down antipoverty strategies. Aid workers from Manila dictate the development programs’ strong emphasis on microcredit and entrepreneurship, instead of the healthcare and education programs that Ifugao representatives have requested. Instead of addressing the roots of poverty among rural and indigenous women, microcredit schemes have generated credit-related strife.

Also among the Ifugaos, microcredit programs are undermining existing local arrangements. Governed by the principle of innabuyog (“sharing the good”), Ifugao women have long organized themselves into reciprocal labor collectives to cultivate rice and raise livestock. These collective also provide members with short-term loans when needed. These organic and vibrant arrangements are being supplanted with the homogenous, competing entrepreneurial projects championed by microcreditors.

I do not doubt that individual microcredit workers mean well, and that people like Prof. Mohammed Yunus have good intentions. But microcredit has been turned into a panacea, the star of antipoverty programs around the world, to the exclusion of more responsive strategies. That’s very problematic.

The supposed success of “compassionate capitalism” strategies obscures the enormous social costs behind statistics such as amazing loan repayment rates. Social costs that are ultimately borne by women who are already marginalized by their socioeconomic and indigenous status.

————

* Data from Bangladesh is from Lamia Karim, “Demystifying Credit: The Grameen Bank, NGOs, and Neoliberalism in Bangladesh,” Cultural Dynamics, Vol. 20, No. 1, 5-29 (2008)

** Data for the Philippines are from Lynn B. Milgram, “Operationalizing microfinance: Women and craftwork in Ifugao, Upland Philippines,” Human Organization, Vol. 60, No. 3 (2001)

Editor’s Note: I watched the Quantum of Solace the weekend it opened. This is not unusual for me, as I watch all the Bond films and like them all for different reasons. However, I wasn’t planning to write specifically on Bond until longtime reader Ansel (now of the Mediahacker blog) sent his review of the film for consideration. I enjoyed the review, especially as it touched on a matter of great importance in our current times: the effect of globalization on communities of color. And so, I am using Ansel’s review as a jumping off point for larger discussions about global politics and policy, now found using the “globalization” tab. The first of the series will go live tomorrow – until then, enjoy. – LDP

*Spoiler Alert*

James Bond, 007. For decades the British super-spy’s name stood for deadly charisma, over-the-top international espionage, and fancy gadgets – until the series took a more realist approach two years ago when actor Daniel Craig took over the role from Pierce Brosnan. The critics hailed Craig’s turn in “Casino Royale” for his icy cool and the physical presence he brought to new, grittier action sequences. This was finally a Bond for the new century, they said.

From an anti-kyriarchy point-of-view, I think Quantum of Solace better fits that description. Casino Royale’s plot was based on Ian Fleming’s original Bond novel about a corrupt financial magnate. The story took place mostly in Europe and turned on a high-stakes poker match played by ultra-rich elites.

With Solace, all the familiar elements are still there – the frenetic action, expensive cars, the constant tension between Bond and M, his boss at MI6, played by Judi Dench. As in every other Bond movie, most women in the film look like supermodels and are used or controlled by men, whether by force or by Bond’s charm. He sleeps with one of them in this movie, slightly down from absurd average of 2.5 women per film.

But James Bond fighting to protect the water supply for impoverished indigenous Bolivian villages? From a wealthy villain who poses as the head of an eco-friendly company called “Greene Planet” and conspires with U.S. intelligence to overthrow a leftist president? Now there’s something new and timely.

Bond’s vengeful pursuit of the killer of his love-interest from previous film takes him early on to Haiti. Just before embarking on an explosive boat escape in the docks of Port-Au-Prince, Bond observes Dominic Greene, the creepy and ruthless businessman brilliantly played by Mathieu Amalric, in a candid exchange with a general who aspires to dictatorship.

General Medrano: And you can do all this for me?

Greene: Well, look at what we did to this country. The Haitians elect a priest who decides to raise the minimum wage from 38 cents to 1 dollar a day. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to upset the corporations who were here making t-shirts and running shoes. So they called us. We facilitated a change.

This is the first time, to my knowledge, that the real story of the U.S.-backed coup against Jean-Bertrand Aristide, the twice-elected President of Haiti, has been acknowledged in the mass media. While a few solitary investigative journalists have written books or produced documentaries about the coup, the major U.S. news media dutifully covered up or ignored the story. Leave it to this latest Bond film, of all things, to help counter the propaganda about Haiti as the country continues to suffer from years of abuse at the hands of neo-colonial powers.

Bond infiltrates, drives, flies, and shoots his way through the rest of the movie trying to stop another coup from taking place in Bolivia, where Greene wants to privatize the water rights in collaboration with the U.S. government by re-establishing a friendly military junta there. The Washington Post’s critic derides all this as “a ludicrous environmental cautionary tale about corporate control of water.”

Tell that to Bolivians, whose water rights were privatized by the World Bank in 1997. In what some called a “water war,” Bechtel was chased out of the country as Bolivians took to the streets in mass opposition to the company’s high prices for basic water services. Evo Morales, Bolivia’s first-ever indigenous president, now plans to enshrine a right to water in the constitution. Indeed, the indigenous Bolivians depicted as demure victims in the film have proven in the real world that they don’t require the violent heroics of a rich white guy like Bond to organize and take back their own country.

Along the way Bond is helped by the movie’s sole independent person-of-color of any significance to the story, the black C.I.A. agent Felix Leiter played by Jeffrey Wright. He defies his boss and opposes the coup in Bolivia. His now-second appearance in the Bond series, along with the election of Barack Obama, has spurred talk of Jamie Fox, P. Diddy (really, Diddy?), or some other actor (what about Denzel?) becoming the first Black Bond in the near future.

“Quantum of Solace” is a fine blockbuster film (it’s grossed some $454 million worldwide) with some amazing action sequences. It has all the requisite elements of your standard Bond film, with the unfortunate exception of spiffy high-tech gadgets. A general failure to portray women and people of color as unique individuals, much less agents of their own destiny is par for the course for the Bond series. A story that questions “greenwashing” and calls attention to U.S. complicity in imposing neoliberalism on the two poorest countries in the hemisphere certainly is not. And it’s a welcome departure from the simplistic man-saves-world-from-brown-skinned-terrorists thread that’s all too common in action films these days.