Reporting from...

From the Travel Channel!

The Travel Channel recently listed its top 10 Must See locations.  The Baha'i gardens came at #9!  See for yourself at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wH_iiKH31BA&mode=related&search

Message to the Baha'is of Egypt from the Universal House of Justice

From http://www.news.bahai.org/

(see post below)

Message to the Baha'is of Egypt from the Universal House of Justice

Seat of the Universal House of Justice, Baha'i World Centre, Haifa, Israel

>Larger Photo

HAIFA, Israel, 26 December 2006 (BWNS) -- The Universal House of Justice, the highest governing body of the Baha'i Faith, has addressed a message to the Baha'is of Egypt in the wake of a 16 December Supreme Administrative Court decision in Cairo that upheld a discriminatory government policy regarding the Baha'is and their identification cards. The policy places the Baha'is in the untenable position of either having to make a false statement about their religious beliefs or give up their state identification cards. The cards are essential to accessing most rights of citizenship, including education, financial services, and even medical care.

See the entire letter (will open in a new window):

ENGLISH >

ARABIC >

bwc-bk-06 12 26 -1-UHJ-EGYPT-499-N

From http://www.news.bahai.org/

Egyptian court rules against Baha'is, upholding government policy of discrimination

CAIRO, 16 December 2006 (BWNS) -- In a closely watched case that has become the focus of a national debate on religious freedom, Egypt's Supreme Administrative Court today ruled against the right of Baha'is to be properly identified on government documents.

The decision upholds current government policy, a policy which forces the Baha'is either to lie about their religious beliefs or give up their state identification cards. The policy effectively deprives Egyptian Baha'is of access to most rights of citizenship, including education, financial services, and even medical care.

"We deplore the Court's ruling in this case, which violates an extensive body of international law on human rights and religious freedom to which Egypt has long been a party," said Bani Dugal, the principal representative of the Baha'i International Community to the United Nations.

"Since this was the last avenue of appeal in this particular case, the Court's decision threatens to make non-citizens of an entire religious community, solely on the basis of religious belief," said Ms. Dugal.

"Our hope now is that the public debate over this issue will cause the Egyptian government to rectify its discriminatory policies," said Ms. Dugal. "This could be accomplished either by allowing Baha'is to be listed on government documents, by abolishing the religious affiliation listing entirely or, simply, by allowing the word 'other' to be legally included on state identification forms."

The case stems from a lawsuit filed against the government by a married couple, Husam Izzat Musa and Ranya Enayat Rushdy, who had their identification cards and passports confiscated after they applied to have their daughters added to their passports, which listed the Baha'i Faith as their religion.

In Egypt, all citizens must list their religious affiliation on state ID cards and other documents, and current policy requires that they choose from one of the three officially recognized religions - Islam, Christianity or Judaism.

In April, a lower administrative court ruled in favor of the couple, saying the state must issue them ID cards that properly identified their religion. The ruling said that even if the government did not recognize the Baha'i Faith, adherents should still have their religious status properly stated on official documents.

That ruling provoked an outcry among extremist elements in Egyptian society, who objected to any official mention of a religion other than the three mentioned in the Qur'an, opening a vigorous debate over issues of religious freedom and tolerance here.

Since April, more than 400 articles, stories, commentaries and programs have appeared in the Egyptian and Arabic news media about the case or its fallout. As well, independent human rights organizations here and abroad have closely followed the issue.

In May, the government appealed the lower court's ruling, which brought the case before the Supreme Administrative Court.

On 2 December, a final hearing was held on the case, at which Bahai lawyers argued for rejection of the government's appeal, on the basis that the lower court's ruling is fully supported by Egyptian law. The Court said at that time that it would release its final ruling today.

To download this news release in Arabic click here.

uno-bp-06 12 16 -1-EGYPTNOID-495-N

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to friends and family alike!

I think I might switch Blog Providers.

Does anyone use Bluehost?  I used their 24/7 live customer support chatline, and was thoroughly impressed with how helpful they were.  Anyone else have any experience with Bluehost? 

Oh wait, you can't answer that by leaving a comment---because Frienster only allows registered members leave comments!  Dumb.

Anyway, I think I may be switching soon, now that I have a dedicated high-speed line at home.  We'll see what happens.

!גמר חתימה טובה

According to tradition, on Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year (24th of September), God opens the Book of Life, writes the names of everyone and their fate for the coming year and seals it on the most holy day of the Jewish year, Yom Kippur or the Day of Atonement.  This explains the common greeting “May you be sealed [in the Book of Life] for a happy year” (“G’mar Kha-tima Tovah”).

The observance of this most holy day began at sunset last night (1st of October) and marks the beginning of a 25-hour fast for many of the Jewish people.  Accordingly, businesses are closed today and traffic of all kinds has ceased completely (which makes for very quiet and peaceful strolls mid-street!).

גמר חתימה טובה

I had no idea.

According to the nursery rhyme, little Miss Muffet, sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey.  Now if someone asked you what a "tuffet" was, would you be able to answer correctly?

According to Wikipedia, the Oxford English Dictionary defines a tuffet as either:

1.  A mound or hillock

2.  A footstool or hassock

The encyclopedic reference then goes on to say that "tuffets are uncommon in current popular culture, with the exception of the well-known nursery rhyme "Little Miss Muffet". Whether the tuffet sat upon by the rhyme's heroine was of the natural or the artificial variety is a matter of some contention among tuffetologists. Those favoring the grassy mound theory adhere to a school of thought generally known as 'Eco-Opportunism', while those who believe the tuffet was man-made belong to the 'Anthropo-Creationist' school."

Tastes like chicken!

The other day, I was surfing the web for some product information in my quest to update item catalogues.  And it was through this process that I stumbled upon someone's incredibly interesting blog, of which its stated existence is to highlight and showcase strange new products on the market.  Intrigued?  See www.strangenewproducts.com for more.  For a preview, check out this post from February for: 

Curried Goat Meat

by Steve, Sunday, February 12, 2006

One of the joys of being a product blogger is coming across exotic stuff like this can of Curried Goat Meat.

It's made by Vietnamese-based Ninh Binh Meat Cannery.

The product literature that comes with it says that it's made with the meat of mountain goats, potatoes, salt and spices, and that it's manufactured using "modern German technology". I wonder if that means killing the goats with a Walther P38?

It's obviously not anything strange or new for lovers of Vietnamese fare. Just figured curried goat meat deserved some blog space somewhere.

Choices choices.

I'm reading an incredible book right now: The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less, by Barry Schwartz.

My sister, Jaime, sent it along with me when I returned back to Israel after a brief vacation. It was so thoughtful of her, after sharing with her my frustration in spending so much time making decisions over the smallest of things.

About the book: the author analyzes why we Americans seem to have such a hard time making decisions, from which toothpaste to buy to figuring out which elective courses to take in university. And overwhelmingly, he has convinced me that as we continue to face more choices each day, we are becoming less and less satisfied in the face of "bigger, better, faster, etc."

His second chapter is devoted to some of the more important choices we must make and establishes the fact that what was once a "yes or no" type of attitude has turned into "yes, but now which one?" Here is just a small sample of those categories: choosing amongst competing utilities (phone companies, power companies, etc.), health insurance (which company, which plan suits us), retirement plans (good God, how am I supposed to know what my life will be like in 50 years??), medical care, beauty, jobs, even who to be. And these are some of the bigger decisions.

He goes on to say that even the small decisions we must make are becoming more and more complex. I could identify with him when I recall going into Cub Foods one day to find first toothpaste, and then deodorant. I think I spent a good 30 minutes combined trying to find what I wanted. Even when I saw my usual favorite, I was attracted to the new packaging of the other options, the advertising touting astounding results by using their products, and comparing things like active ingredients and price. It was overwhelming.

The author decided to evaluate such options at his local supermarket and presented his findings in the opening chapter of his book.

"Scanning the shelves of my local supermarket recently, I found 85 different varieties and brands of crackers. As I read the packages, I discovered that some brands had sodium, others didn’t. Some were fat-free, others weren’t. They came in big boxes and small ones. They came in normal size and bite size. There were mundane saltines and exotic and expensive imports.
“My neighborhood supermarket is not a particularly large store, and yet next to the crackers were 285 varieties of cookies. Among chocolate chip cookies, there were 21 options. Among Goldfish (I don’t know whether to count them as cookies or crackers), there were 20 different varieties to choose from.
“Across the aisle were juices—13 “sports drinks,” 65 “box drinks” for kids, 85 other flavors and brands of juices, and 75 iced teas and adult drinks. I could get these tea drinks sweetened (sugar or artificial sweetener), lemoned, and flavored.
“Next, in the snack aisle, there were 95 options in all—chips (taco and potato, ridged and flat, flavored and unflavored, salted and unsalted, high fat, low fat, no fat), pretzels, and the like, including a dozen varieties of Pringles. Nearby was seltzer, no doubt to wash down the snacks. Bottle water was displayed in at least 15 flavors.
“In the pharmaceutical aisles, I found 61 varieties of suntan oil and sunblock, and 80 different pain relievers—aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen; 350 milligrams or 500 milligrams; caplets, capsules, and tablets; coated or uncoated. There were 40 options for toothpaste, 150 lipsticks, 75 eyeliners, and 90 colors of nail polish from one brand alone. There were 116 kinds of skin cream, and 360 types of shampoo, conditioner, gel, and mousse. Next to them were 90 different cold remedies and decongestants. Finally, there was dental floss: waxed and unwaxed, flavored and unflavored, offered in a variety of thicknesses.
“Returning to the food shelves, I could choose from among 230 soup offerings, including 29 different chicken soups. There were 16 varieties of instant mashed potatoes, 75 different instant gravies, 120 different pasta sauces. Among the 175 different salad dressings were 16 “Italian” dressings, and if none of them suited me, I could choose from 15 extra-virgin olive oils and 42 vinegars and make my own. There were 275 varieties of cereal, including 24 oatmeal options and 7 “Cheerios” options. Across the aisle were 64 different kinds of barbecue sauce and 175 types of tea bags.
“Heading down the homestretch, I encountered 22 types of frozen waffles. And just before the checkout (paper or plastic; cash or credit or debit), there was a salad bar that offered 55 different items.
“This brief tour of one modest store barely suggests the bounty that lies before today’s middle-class consumer. I left out the fresh fruits and vegetables (organic, semi-organic, and regular old fertilized and pesticized), the fresh meats, fish, and poultry (free-range organic chicken or penned-up chicken, skin on or off, whole or in pieces, seasoned or unseasoned, stuffed or empty), the frozen foods, the paper goods, the cleaning products, and on and on and on.
“A typical supermarket carries more than 30,000 items. That’s a lot to choose from. And more than 20,000 new products hit the shelves every year, almost all of them doomed to failure.
“Comparison shopping to get the best price adds still another dimension to the array of choices, so that if you were a truly careful shopper, you could spend the better part of a day just to select a box of crackers, as you worried about the price, flavor, freshness, fat, sodium, and calories. But who has the time to do this? Perhaps that’s the reason consumers tend to return to the products they usually buy, not even noticing 75% of the items competing for their attention and their dollars. Who but a professor doing research would even stop to consider that there are almost 300 different cookie options to choose amongst?
“Supermarkets are unusual as repositories for what are called “nondurable goods,” goods that are quickly used and replenished. So buying the wrong brand of cookies doesn’t have significant emotional or financial consequences. But in most other settings, people are out to buy things that cost more money, and that are meant to last. And here, as the number of options increases, the psychological stakes rise accordingly.”

I’m now three-quarters of the way through the book, and am reading more about why we tend to regret so many of our choices and what this all means in our overall psychological well-being. All I can say is that I am now beginning to understand just why I might seem to have such a hard time making decisions at times. There’s too much to choose from!!

It's official.

For a while now, I have been contemplating what to do after my term of service ends, trying to figure out what path to take and which will be the best option.

Often times, it has seemed rather overwhelming and worried me to some extent, despite knowing that I still have some time to think about it before I leave the World Centre.

Anyhow, I very recently applied for and was granted an eight-month extension to continue serving my position at the World Centre.  This decision to apply was partly based on a future plan which I have mapped out, and includes a trajectory which should take me some 20 years into the future if it all goes to plan. 

I don't know why or how, but as I reflect upon the past few years of my life, I can discern a noticeable shift in priorities which occurred soon after I rediscovered the Baha'i Faith, and it has completely changed my outlook on life, its implications, and how I fit into the grand scheme.  And it remains intermittently reassuring to know that if only I can maintain this focus, this seeming direction, I know exactly what the rest of my life might look like.

Starting, now.

You decide.

Two different people mentioned to me that they think I look like Iran's football (soccer) coach.  Although I tend to disagree, I'll let you be the judge.

<-- Iran's Coach.

.

.

<--Me.

.

.

Natural, but nutritious?

Article on www.nytimes.com:

Mass Natural

By MICHAEL POLLAN

Published:  June 4, 2006

Full article at:  http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/04/magazine/04wwln_lede.html

NOTE:  Refresh your browser once or twice if the link takes you to an advertising page.  If you still have trouble, let me know and I’ll send the text (it’s too long to post in full here).

I feel like I'm melting.

Haifa Weather - 5 June 2006

---

at: 4:50 pm LDT F° | C° Currently: 104° Fair/Windy High: 86° Low: 77°

New York Times Article - Baha'is in Iran

As found on www.nytimes.com:

Iran's Bahai Religious Minority Says It Faces Raids and Arrests

By LAURIE GOODSTEIN 

Published: June 1, 2006

Members of the Bahai religious minority in Iran said this week that the government had recently intensified a campaign of arrests, raids and propaganda that was aimed at eradicating their religion in Iran, the country of its birth.

On May 19, Iranian security officials arrested 54 Bahais in the city of Shiraz who were involved in a community service project, many of them in their teens and early 20's, said diplomatic officials and Bahai officials outside of Iran.

They were not charged and all but three were released within six days, these officials said.

It was the largest mass arrest of Bahais since the 1980's, when thousands of them were imprisoned and more than 200 were executed by the new Islamic government.

The developments have alarmed human rights monitors at the United Nations, who say that since December, the government newspaper in Tehran has published more than 30 articles denigrating the Bahai faith — even accusing Bahais of sacrificing Muslim children on holy days. The arrests coincided with raids on six Bahai homes, in which notebooks, documents and computers were confiscated. More than 70 other Bahais have been arrested since January 2005 in smaller clusters, and some are still being held, the monitors said.

"We see a pattern emerging that is quite ominous," said Bani Dugal, who represents the Bahai International Community at the United Nations, where religious and some other groups have consultative status. "It's basically trying to create terror in the Bahai community, and also to win over the Iranian population to accept it."

Mohammad Mohammadi, press secretary for Iran's mission to the United Nations, said he had no information about arrests of Bahais and would not be able to respond until Monday because of an Iranian holiday this week.

The Bahais are the largest religious minority in Iran, with about 300,000 members there. There are five million worldwide. They believe that humanity is one race, that men and women are equal and that all religions and prophets are derived from the same source, God.

They have suffered successive waves of persecution in Iran since their faith was founded there in the mid-1800's by a Persian nobleman considered by the Bahais to be a messenger of God. That belief violates the Islamic teaching that God sent many prophets before Muhammad, but none afterward. The Bahai are discriminated against in some other Muslim countries, where they are far less numerous than in Iran.

Unlike Jews and Christians, who have seats in Iran's Parliament set aside for them as religious minorities, Bahais in Iran are considered "unprotected infidels," said Kit Bigelow, director for external affairs of the National Spiritual Assembly of the Bahais of the United States. Bahais are not permitted to attend college, work for the government or practice their faith openly.

She called the recent arrests "the latest step in the implementation of a strategy on the part of the Iranian government to eliminate the Bahai community."

Asma Jahangir, the United Nations special rapporteur who monitors freedom of religion for the Commission on Human Rights, announced in March that she had just learned about a confidential letter from the chairman of the command headquarters of Iran's armed forces instructing government agencies to identify all Bahais and monitor their activities.

Ms. Jahangir said the letter was sent on Oct. 29, 2005, on the orders of Iran's supreme leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. Ms. Jahangir said in a statement in March that she was concerned that "information gained as a result of such monitoring will be used as a basis for the increased persecution of, and discrimination against, members of the Bahai faith, in violation of international standards."

Mr. Mohammadi, the Iranian press secretary, said he could not confirm whether such a document existed.

Azedah Perry, a Bahai in North Carolina, said that among the 54 arrested in May were 3 of her nieces, ages 17, 18 and 21. She spoke by telephone with her nieces after their release, and said they told her they were interrogated during their six days in prison, but tried to keep their morale up by praying and singing. She said when they were arrested, they were volunteering in a community service project at several public schools. She said they were teaching underprivileged children English, science and mathematics — not the Bahai faith — and had permission letters from the local Islamic council in their pockets.

Last year, Mrs. Perry's brother-in-law in Shiraz was taken by armed Iranian guards from his home and held for six weeks in a prison in Tehran with several other Bahai men before being released, Mrs. Perry said.

"It's hard to live in such a situation," she said. "You don't know what will happen each day. The day they attacked my sister's house, she was in her bedroom and she saw guards with guns in her backyard."

The United States Congress is considering a resolution that would condemn the Iranian government for repressing Bahais and call on President Bush to make the abuse of Bahais a significant factor in United States foreign policy.

Representative Mark Steven Kirk, an Illinois Republican who co-sponsored the resolution with Representative Tom Lantos of California, said, "My fear is that if the regime leads the country into a confrontation with the West, it will be the cover for a great human rights crime, as happened before."

Faisal Mahmood/Reuters

Asma Jahangir of the United Nations says Bahais in Iran are being identified and monitored.

Full article at: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/01/world/middleeast/01bahai.html.

Musclemania

I started working out at the gym, and think it's already done me some good.  What do you think?

Check it out for yourself.

Mona forward me an interesting link on Emotional Intelligence. 

Check it out for yourself at:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emotional_intelligence

I'm getting fed up---now it says I have no friends.

My friend Everett introduced me to www.Friendster.com  a couple of years ago.  This site offers an easy way of keeping in touch with people from around the world without having to resort to individual or mass e-mails.

One major feature of Friendster that allows this all to happen is that it keeps track of your contacts and stores them automatically online.  Each contact maintains their own personal profile and can update such information as where they're now living, what job they're currently working, and other related information about themselves.  I recently had around 130 e-friend contacts in this regard.

Today I logged on to find that all profiles but one have mysteriously been wiped off from my account.  This is not the first time that I've experienced such a peculiarity, and in fact such quirks have given me trouble on my Friendster blog as well.

So I'd like to know what people think about www.MySpace.com and wonder if it is more stable and easy to use.  I'd also love to hear about different blog service providers as well, their advantages and disadvantages, and how people like them.  Many thanks in advance for your help.

By the way, I have no idea how to prevent alerts from being sent out each time I update my blog (which only happens roughly once a month, but still, it's gotta be annoying...).  Let me know if you know how to turn off this feature.

FRESH NUTS! GET 'EM WHILE THEY'RE HOT!

I applaud human ingenuity in many situations, but this one has me thinking otherwise.

So I joined the gym this past week, wanting to get back into shape after nearly a year of no physical activity. In addition to the machines and classes that the gym had to offer, I was also attracted to the sauna that members can use.

Well the other day, my sister and I decided to go into the sauna after an abs class. Peering into the window, she pointed at the flat, circular objects inside the little wood-paneled room and asked, "Hey, what are those?"

"I dunno, but we'll soon find out!" I replied.

We got in and walked toward the two objects, which turned out to be two ceramic plates. Okay, I thought, a little weird that there are two plates in here. I wonder why?

Upon closer inspection, we found out that upon the plates were small piles of peanuts.

"Peanuts?" You ask? "What for?"

SOMEONE WAS ROASTING THEM IN THE SAUNA! WHO DOES THAT??

Gross. And nasty.

Big picture, little person.

I am reading 1984 by George Orwell right now. One passage strikes me as rather profound and relates quite well to what I’ve been reflecting on as of late. Although the context is obviously quite different to my own situation, it nonetheless has me thinking about how and what it is that I find myself reacting to in so many situations. “[Winston] thought with a kind of astonishment of the biological uselessness of pain and fear, the treachery of the human body which always freezes into inertia at exactly the moment when a special effort is needed…It struck him that in moments of crisis one is never fighting against an external enemy but always against one’s own body…And it is the same, he perceived, in all seemingly heroic or tragic situations…The issues that you are fighting for are always forgotten, because the body swells up until it fills the universe, and even when you are not paralyzed by fright or screaming with pain, life is a moment-to-moment struggle against hunger or cold or sleeplessness, against a sour stomach or an aching tooth.”

My cousin, Mona, once shared with me a comment her father had made after watching how she had handled some situation in which she became worked up over something rather trivial. “Ooh, you spend so much energy on such small things,” he said. “You should get a job with NASA because they need people who worry about such little details. You could get paid for getting so worked up and in fact, you might even get a promotion.” And she immediately understood his point that in very limited circumstances *only* is it necessary and even encouraged to stress out over small things, but that for a large number of people in a majority of situations, no good can possibly come of this.

“Pick your battles,” my mom used to say, "instead of making an issue of everything or you'll never get ahead." Pretty sound advice, I'd say.

Amongst other things I’ve learned about myself over the past 15 months, I have realized that I am very detail-oriented. To some, this is a very positive trait. “You just don’t miss a beat,” I remember my friend Nancy once telling me. Fine enough, but she said this in the context of how I had turned around a situation where an angry customer was yelling at me to one in which even he was laughing.

In other situations, however, there are drawbacks to focusing on the little details, and I am becoming ever conscious of this as I reflect more on the past 15 months and in light of the major goals I hope to accomplish within the next ten years.

I admire my coordinator, John, for a number of reasons. But it is his ability always to see the end in the beginning that I admire so much; he and my dad are very similar in this regard. They are both self-admitted “big-picture people,” and this perspective has enabled them to guide their staff and our office into bigger and more complex situations, through which I am beginning to realize just a portion of my own potential where previously I had remained unaware.

Of course, life is a learning process. But I am finding out more and more that it can only be accomplished when setting everything in motion as a sort of process, which entails a bit of reflection, a lot of planning, and an ability to always move past the very things which will make or break a situation.

I guess we’ll see what happens.

Received from Nadia

Dearest Friends,

Sunday night (30 April 2006) at 11:20PM, a graceful and steadfast handmaid of God, Ms. Iran Jahanpour, winged her flight to the abode of her Beloved Baha’u’llah, on the anniversary of His memorable open declaration in the Garden of Ridvan. As one of the descendants of the early believers and heroes of the Faith, she stood firm and steadfast in her love for Baha’u’llah throughout a life of suffering, persecution and cruelties. During her life, she exemplified a gentleness of spirit, reverence before all things, patience in long suffering, dignity, courage, wisdom, and above all, an unquestioned faith and contentment with whatever God had decreed. She always lived a humble and modest life, and modeled that true happiness is spiritual and not material in nature. She was a trust amongst us, and we were so honored to have been touched by the wings or her angelic spirit. We will always remember her joyfulness, humor, love, and all her counsels for unity, harmony, perseverance and righteousness. Her radiant spirit was freed from the pain of this world, at her own home and in the company of children and grandchildren, chanting aloud prayers and surrounded by love.

Please keep her beautiful spirit in your prayers as she ascends to the "court of the Presence of the Generous one".

Outside the loony bin.

I think I need a break.  A really long break.

I don't generally consider myself as someone prone to stress.  But lately, I've found myself just a bit shorter with others, more frustrated because of it, and feeling very confused as a result.  It just isn't me.

Now I remember in 9th grade health class when our local D.A.R.E. officer spoke about stress, amongst other things like angel dust, PCP, and merri-ju-ahnna as she pronounced it.  I don't know what she was doing talking about stress to a bunch of pre-pubescent teenagers with really bad B.O. because they hadn't yet discovered Teen Spirit, but the fact is, she talked about it and I'm trying my best to recover my memory.  Unfortunately, all I remember is that she mentioned two different kinds:

1. Distress, which is the bad one; and
2. Eustress, which is the good kind and okay to feel.

The problem is, I cannot remember if she mentioned how to achieve more of the latter in able to rid ourselves of the former, or if a correlation even exists between the two.

Hmm...

I’ve spoken with a few friends about it here, and although I very much appreciate their advice and concern, answers don't always tend to offer an antidote: "Maybe it's because you're being challenged in new ways and you're thus in the midst of a transition of sorts, and it is an associated stress which you feel as part of this process"---fine enough, but what do I do with that?

And so I beg to know:  What habits and regular things, besides exercise, do people incorporate into their daily routine to help battle distress before it happens?

Some of what has prompted me in asking was an e-mail someone recently forwarded to me about a way to tell if you are stressed.  And it goes like this:

"The attached picture was devised as part of a stress test developed by researchers at St. Mary's Hospital in London. It is the final picture of a series of stress determinations to gauge the amount of stress a patient has built up over a short time. Look at the attached picture of two dolphins jumping out of the water in tandem.

The research has shown that the more differences you notice in the two dolphins, the more stressed you are. This is attributed to the concentration and recognition influences intensifying when stressed. The two are very similar."

Click Here to View the Picture

Enough said.

Woof.

I have a hunch that everybody has at least one guilty pleasure that they like to partake in private from time-to-time, but will do anything to keep people from finding out what that pleasure actually is. You know the type, like those featured in the Kellogg’s commercials from the late ‘80s where adults “confessed” their love of Frosted Flakes to Tony the Tiger and that was supposed to make consumers feel like it was okay for them to buy Frosted Flakes and eat them too.

Well folks, I feel as if I am finally mature enough to share one of my guilty pleasures with you.

(Actually, somebody caught me doing it and I would rather you find out from me than from them.).

So tonight I was walking back from my sister’s apartment in Leon Blum, when I found myself the victim of a rather vicious dog-barking attack. Although I quickly realized that I had not soiled myself and that the dog was safely tucked away behind the fence, I was upset and resorted to doing something I secretly like to do when no one’s around: I retaliated by barking right back. Really loud. In fact, I started meowing and hissing too, like a cat in heat---for added effect.

It lasted for maybe 30 seconds, a minute tops, and it was great. I loved it. And I would do it again.

Is that weird?

I only ask because I hadn’t realized that two women, actually, had seen and been watching this entire affair from across the street, and it wasn’t until I started walking away that I heard them whispering and nodding in my direction. And although I tried to recover my cool composure by nodding and offering an embarrassed “Shalom," they simply stared back at me. And I think that one of them actually clutched her purse closer to her person while doing this, as if she were about to yell out, “Come on, Patty! Let’s get out of here---this guy is sick!”

Oh well, what does one do? I enjoyed it, and as I said before, I would do it again. Maybe not in front of people, but then, this was supposed to be my private guilty pleasure.

Get me a cigar--my niece is CUTE!

I'm an uncle again!  Yay!

Congratulations to my sister Jaime and brother-in-law Dan, who both welcomed little Ahva Mae Norling into the world at 12:29am on 8 April 2006.  According to Dan's e-mail, "she is 6 lbs 12 ozs and 19 inches long.  Mom and baby are doing well."

*Sigh*

Happy Naw-Ruz!

"9-Pointed Star"

(Photo source: www.bahaiyouth.com)

EVERYONE Has A Good Side

I’ll be honest in saying that I love to be in pictures.

It’s fun, it’s somewhat glamorous, and it kind of serves as a bit of a reminder of what it must be like to be famous (I’ve kind of always wished I would be famous one day, like Tony Little for example).

In fact, I’ll readily admit that I choose the pictures to put into my living room frames based solely on how I look, and thus regardless of how others in the picture look. I don’t mean to be narcissistic, vain, or self-absorbed you see, but honestly, who wants to hang up ugly pictures of themselves?

Anyway, all of the above hold true under one condition: that pictures that are taken of me are taken from my good side.

Yes, you read that correctly. I_have_a_good_side.

Everyone has a good side, I believe.

Which means that we all have a bad side I guess.

“What is your 'good side?'” I’ve been asked many-a-time. “It is,” I reply, “the side of my profile which can be captured, but only slightly from the left, which hides the fact that one of my eyelids droops slightly more than the other when they are open, that my nose is rather crooked, and that *I am convinced* one of my cheeks is a bit smaller than the other. That, my friends, is my good side.”

Now I have met many different people who just don’t seem to understand what it means to have a good side, or a bad side for that matter, and for them either they are too pretty to know the difference or I shudder to think of the alternative and will leave it at that.

Further, I’d venture to guess that there are others who actually know the difference, but don’t want to admit that they too have a good side, and instead put up with this fact rather than risk having to come out and be exposed (no pun intended).

And yet there are probably others out there who also know the difference, but either don’t care or are maybe a bit more humble about the whole thing than I.

Whatever.

So if you ever find yourself taking a picture of me, in the midst of trying to figure out that “you have to hold the button down a bit longer” and to realize that “there is going to be at least four flashes, so don’t move after the first, second, or third flash,” only to finally yell out that all-too-famous catch-phrase, “Say Cheese!”, I ask for your patience if I suddenly bolt from one side of the group to the other in the hope that you only capture me at my best, which is from—you guessed it—my good side.

(THIS is Tony Little's good side)

My Top Ten Pet Peeves List

10.) Dirty kids.

9.) Those distracting “tick-tick-tick-tick” noises coming from someone’s watch during quiet situations.

8.) When you’re waiting in line to get salad dressing and you see someone about to pour the Italian or oil-and-vinegar-combined mixture, but someone brings to their attention that they have to first “shake it”---but instead of shaking it up and down (which everyone knows is the right way), they swirl it around in circles or from side-to-side in a motion similar to ringing a bell---which doesn’t do anything to mix it and they end up pouring just the oil onto their salad.

7.) Getting the last batch of stale fries just as you see the hot ones coming out of the fryer at McDonald’s.

6.) Getting caught in public toilets or elevators by people walking in on you while you are squeezing your pimples up close in the mirror, but then feeling as if you should pretend like it was either very normal-and-mind-your-own-business-thank-you or else as if nothing happened, though deep down you know you were caught and are actually very embarrassed because now your nose and forehead are bright red from the pressure of your fingernails and that is too bad because not only are you trying to deny in your head that anything happened but you now actually kind of resemble Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.

5.) Small talk between yourself and the person cutting your hair, because hey, who cares about the weather?

4.) Explaining a rather brilliant idea but in a very poor manner so that it is abandoned in favor of someone else’s idea which, although explained rather brilliantly, will not get the group to the end nearly as quickly as it would if only your idea had been explained well enough and subsequently adopted.

3.) Spending ten or more minutes reading some story from your MSN chatbuddy when the same thing would only have taken 30 seconds if done over the telephone.

2.) When you are trying to set your alarm for 06:00am and so you change it from some other time and when you are setting the minutes you maybe aren’t paying attention and instead go over from 5:59 and make the clock say 06:02 and you feel like you need to go all the way through the rest of the sequence of numbers to set it exactly at 06:00am because those two extra minutes will probably throw off your whole day.

1.) Gossiping and Back-Biting

Rambam Health Care Campus

So I've developed an allergy to something. Translation: I'll live.

I hope.

An Israeli Hospital

***Based on a true story***

I will never forget 23 January 2006.

As long as I live, wherever I am, I will remember what happened on 1/23.

Like when people say "I still remember where I was when I heard that Kennedy had been shot," I will forever recall the feeling that a part of me died on that day--literally.

***

It all started two years ago when suddenly, out of the blue, I developed a small rash on both of my elbows. Nothing major, not really that gross, but enough of an irritant to push me into consulting two physicians—who both convinced me that I would be cured in two months with the aid of some prescription cream.

Well two years on, with the realization that not only did I still have an elbow rash, but that it had now spread to my nipple-region, I decided to visit an Israeli specialist for what I thought would somehow be the visit of visits, the one in which I would finally be cured, and walk away satisfied, happy, and rid of the unbearable urge to scratch my nipples at meetings, devotionals, and you-name-it-I've-scratched-them-there type of places.

And while I guess I can now describe that visit as, truly, the visit of visits, I most certainly DID NOT walk away: cured, satisfied, happy, or rid of the unbearable urge to scratch my nipples at meetings, devotionals, and you-name-it-I've-scratched-them-there type of places.

***

So I arrived at Rambam Hospital on the 23rd of January for the general intake, which consisted of a few rather tense moments trying to explain to the receptionist that my name was Bauback Anvary and not Anwar Boobark (Israelis read right-to-left), while trying to describe my symptoms in my best version of Hebrish (similar to Spanglish, but a little more ancient).

In the little room, I was received by the gentle doctor fine enough, who looked at the rash and asked me all sorts of questions, finally concluding that I might have developed an allergy which was causing the rash and preventing the creams from fully ridding me of this itchy problem.

Thinking I was done, I proceeded to put on my shirt, but found myself suddenly prevented by the giant Russian nurse-lady who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"No shirt--Sign here," she grunted, while handing me a form written completely in Hebrew and impatiently staring at me with her misleading eyes, the type where even if you think she is looking at you, you cannot tell for sure because the one eye looks to the left and another looks to the right a little bit.

"What is this for?" I asked.
"Bee-oapsia. We test now. SIGN HERE!" was her terrifying reply.

So I signed the form and followed her to another room.

Now in retrospect, I know that I probably should have asked for clarification of what she meant by “bee-oapsia.” Instead, I was uncomfortable with the sort of ‘question/answer exchange’ that was taking place and so decided not to ask too much. I guess it was easier to tell myself that whatever “bee-oapsia” was, it must be like what happens in the States where a nice nurse makes a small scrape into a petri dish, sends it to the lab, and you wait together in peace and serenity for the results and diagnosis. Unfortunately, I forgot that I live in Israel, and not the US.

The first realization that my body was in danger was when Nurse Ratchet returned from the other room wielding a sword-like syringe. Again, to be sure, I REALLY didn't feel like questioning this somewhat angry woman with the weapon, but realizing what could happen if I didn’t, I risked it.

“What’s THAT for???” I screamed, wide-eyed, with a bit of hesitant laughter and sweat now forming upon my brow.
"Lie down. We do to children, they don't cry long," was her simple reply, as if it was supposed to comfort me. Her confession...supposed to comfort me. A confession, the implication of which meant that this was not the first time that this medical monster had stabbed innocent people with a needle bigger than the size of the Louisiana Purchase.

Now I don’t really consider myself much of a wimp. But my body weighs just under 130 pounds and I appreciate every ounce of it. This woman was, however, by my estimation at least 259 pounds of pure muscle with arms about twice the size of my torso and one of my thighs combined. Further, she had an uncanny resemblance to "Chernobyl-lady," a big-scary woman from Russia who worked at my university cafeteria and whom would laugh instead of complying with my request for more fries on my plate.

I know all of this, because I had been looking at her. Really staring, knowing that I might have to describe her features in the report I was sure that I would need to file with the authorities if I ever made it out alive.

Anyway, with my heart pounding, and seriously considering running out of the room--sans shirt--I decided to be brave and lie down, despite feeling as if my person was still in danger, like when you are walking alone in a dark alley and suddenly an empty can crunches and you look over to see someone standing in the corner who pulls out what you think is a switchblade knife but realize it is only one of those switchblade combs, and not a knife at all, but in that setting a switchblade comb is actually really scary.

That was the feeling of danger which I felt.

Switching focus from her cheekbones to her height, I sort of started pleading with her.

"Yes, I understand that’s what you did to the children, but WHAT IS IT FOR?? Please tell me!”

Her response, suddenly eerily calm and with a smile: "Anes-theeya. No pain."
Me, now on the verge of wetting myself: "PAIN? FOR WHAT???"
Nurse, again smiling: “Bee-oapsia!”

"There’s that word again!” I exclaimed to myself.

And then... whack-STAB!

Maybe you have read about those amazing stories in Reader’s Digest where during emergencies, ordinary people find within themselves an unordinary and superhuman strength which enables them, somehow, to do things like lift burning cars off of their neighbor immediately following an earthquake or something.

And so it was, with this same sort of power which I suddenly found myself possessing, that I watched in slow motion as Nurse “Yeti” plunged what must have been at least three inches of the needle into my upper torso, just to the left of my right nipple but miraculously missing a major artery.

My first thought was that I was being drugged, and if you have ever been in a situation like that, you realize that once you lose consciousness you are done for. Like when I was at Church-camp when I was younger and was afraid that one of the creepy counselors was going to pull me aside one day and put an ether-soaked clothe to my nose and mouth and then eat me.

Anyway, once I got past the initial pain and horror of seeing my skin raising in the area immediately surrounding where the needle had now been finally extracted, I realized it was talking to me again.

The nurse. She was talking to me.

“You, look away now.”

Kind of feeling like I was about to pass out, I whispered, “why?”

“DO IT!” she barked.

And of course I couldn’t argue with her because I was honestly afraid that she was going to sit on me at that point if I didn’t.

And so, as I began to look away, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that she was putting a little instrument with a small crank on top of the raised area of my skin where she had only moments before stabbed me.

And then, I felt it.

Not pain, but like a very small tug at my chest, like a child pulling at my shirt, except I knew my shirt was in my hand and not on my body and that what was being tugged was actually my skin.

And as quickly as it started, it was done. And when I looked at the spot where she had put the torture-device-with-the-crank thing, I noticed something very strange.

THERE_WAS_A_HOLE_IN_MY_CHEST.

I had a hole in my skin. Not bleeding, just a hole.

Now a bit woozy, I devoted my remaining energy to asking her just one or two final questions before the darkness of passing out or dying, I’m not sure which.

Me, starting to fade: “What just happened?”
Her, with a HUGE smile like she had just won the lottery: “Bee-oapsia!”

And quite suddenly, as if my life were flashing before my very eyes, I put two-and-two together and realized that she had just performed--not a "bee-oapsia," but a BIOPSY, the type where an anesthetist is supposed to put the patient to sleep and a skilled surgeon operate.

Me: “Good God woman, HOW MUCH DID YOU TAKE AWAY??”
Her, again, with the same smile and slightly calmer than before: “5 millimeters. You done now.”

How do you respond to something like that? I felt, and rightfully so, that a part of me had just died, and I was left with what looked like a paper-punch hole on my body.

***

I still don’t know how I feel knowing that only most of me will be returning to the US in just under 18 months.

I still don’t know if I should have a funeral, or where, or how.

And I still don’t know if I’ll ever see the little bugger again, or if this is it.

All I know is that I am finally beginning to heal, at least physically, and that I have another appointment for the results in three days time.

And the whole point of this blog post today is to at least document my final days and what happened on 1/23, in case when I go back on 2/28 they decide to amputate my head. Because at this point, I really don’t know, other than the fact that I have a hole in my torso.

By the way, I think the nurse’s name was Lena, or at least that’s what I think it said on her name tag. She was 6 foot 11, and well, you know the rest.

Thank you.

Saving oneself...

How do people control their urge to start laughing at inappropriate times, such as in the middle of a lecture, during a meeting or while speaking to somebody in conversation?

I'll be honest in saying that I have no idea.

Once, during a hysterical laughing fit while on stage with my sister Soriah, she told me to look at my fingernails.  Not really able to ask why at the time because I couldn't catch my breath, but yet not knowing what else to do, I complied.  But at the same time that I brought my wrist up from my side I thought, "How dumb must this look to somebody in the audience right now?" and started to laugh even harder (She later explained that the point was to distract myself from the thought making me laugh in the first place.  Unfortunately it didn't work...).

So the other day I started laughing to myself in the middle of a meeting and couldn't stop.  And I'm sure everybody knows what happened next, because those whom have ever found themselves in a similar situation know that there exists a universal pattern of behavior designed to curb the naughty behavior but more often than not has an opposite effect.  You know the type, when you find yourself laughing so hard and so you try to hide yourself behind whatever object is closest to you, like a book or magazine, which in reality does not hide your laughing but instead draws more attention to you (although it makes sense at the time).  And you know how then every few seconds it feels like you are ready to stop laughing and be mature again and so you slowly lower your cover only to catch those silent-but-disapproving glances from others in the room, which of course sends you into another fit of laughter instead of helping you to stop.  And don't forget that you will have to explain to the inquiring few during break or refreshments "what was so funny?" which in reality we all know that whatever made us laugh in the first place truly, honestly, should not have been that funny.

Well after this laughing spat the other day, I thought, why do I feel so guilty about laughing?  I mean, the opposite of laughing is obviously not laughing, and isn't it good to be happy?  Because the opposite of happy is sad, and sadness can manifest itself in the form of crying which I think we all agree is a whole heckuva lot worse than laughing.

So I invite whatever suggestion people might have in helping to overcome such a handicap.  Because at this rate my abs will start to look like those muscle-flexing competitions on ESPN where people wear the skimpy speedos and smile a lot and I'll be honest in saying that although that is nice, I really don't want to wear a speedo in public anytime soon.

How to tell if you have a crappy blog.

Some inspiration...

After having gone through seven straight days dealing with some of the biggest tests and difficulties I have ever encountered, an inspirational poster changed my life. You know the type, the one with the gigantic picture of some mountain peak with the word "DETERMINATION" printed in the middle and pick-me-up phrase which ultimately makes you feel so bad about yourself because you realize that you haven't yet climbed a mountain and how awful of a person are you actually but then again who cares about climbing a mountain and what does that have to do with determination anyway?

*sigh*

And so it is that one of these messages actually did some good the other day. It actually made me begin to do things differently, and this change ultimately helped me to navigate my way out of the mess I only now realize I did so much to create. And it goes something like this, in the first person:

"I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it."

Now the implications of such a message are threefold: first, that you decide to stop blaming others for the problems you encounter; second, that you will figure out a way to deal with your life for yourself; and third, that you do so positively. Because in this way, one realizes life as some sort of ongoing process as opposed to the defensive melee which is all too often the default mechanism in dealing with life's tests.

I realized this week that God gave to me a gift in my ability to choose how to react to life, and I'm not going to waste it any longer.

How's that for "DETERMINATION?"

(on a side note, this is actually the second time writing this. The first time, my computer froze up as I hit "SAVE POST" and I thus had to rewrite it. I guess I reacted to it pretty well, because my computer is still here and not in the trash.)

UNDER CONSTRUCTION

I'm in the process of changing the layout of this blog and will begin to add pictures next week. Until then, Happy Ridvan and joy to y'all!

Ladies on busses

I got onto the number 12 yesterday morning, and about three minutes into the 14 minute journey I noticed something very strange: that I was the ONLY male on the bus. At first I thought it was mere coincidence. But the more I paid attention, the more I noticed that each time the bus stopped, another old lady or two would hop on.

Things happen for reasons I'm sure, but this one has me stumped: Ladies on Busses.

Happy Ridvan everybody.

I'm baaaaack... As in Baubaaaaack

I know.

I haven't updated my blog in a really long time. But I have a very good reason: I couldn't.

In my last post, I devoted a bit of bandwidth in explaining how I've been able to predict a lot of things in Israel. But apparently I failed to realize one key point about this predictability and the nature by which it should be understood. What is this key point?

That it is entirely possible to predict that things will be completely unpredictable. How? Why? When you might ask even?

The invoices that were supposed to come in the mail a week ago still haven't arrived. Which is because the post office has apparently been on strike, and we're not quite sure when they'll decide to come back (if anybody has a spare carrier pigeon, name your price and e-mail it to me because none of the 3.4 billion pigeons here know how to deliver anything but bird droppings).

The number 12 bus that yesterday came right on time? Today, it didn't come. In fact, none of the busses came at all. But apparently only for me, because nobody else seemed to know what I was talking about when I asked them about it today in my ugly greasy hair--which was ugly and greasy from walking up the whole of Mount Carmel in 30 degree (centigrade) weather in the only clothes I brought with me from home in Minnesota which just happen to all be made of wool. I might as well have slept in, worn blankets to work and used WD-40 for hairspray because I'm sure it would have had the same effect.

And to top it off and bring me back full circle: the "update blog" link on Friendster vanished just after my last post but conveniently before I resolved to be good about posting things on a semi-regular basis. Alas, this is life here. Predictably unpredictable.

My disclaimer is that none of this should be taken as a complaint on my part. Rather, they are the observations I keep noting from time to time, saving them up for when I am allowed to share them with others. And I'm having a blast doing it.

So unless this link decides to appear more or less frequently, I'm back. As in, Bauback.

Reporting to you live, but now from a refreshing poly/cotton blend.

Yours very truly,

me

Haifa

I've been keen to pick up on the fact that life in Israel is unfailingly predictable.  It has become increasingly second nature to constantly check each new encounter against my one-month Israeli memory, trying to figure out which will be a surprise ending and which I already know the outcome.

A few examples to back up my assertion. 

Every morning, a gray Mercedes with tinted windows rolls around the Ben Gurion / Hagefen roundabout at precisely 6:35 am.  The 70-year-old man with backpack jogs past me at 6:40.  At 6:45 am, I see the man across the street in a wheelchair who laughs to himself again and again as angry Israeli pedestrians are attacked by his horny little dog.  And as I get on my bus at 6:50, I recognize the woman who rides the same route, who could be mistaken as a Baha'i in her neat appearance if not for her S&M boot preference. 

And then there is business, to which I'm not sure I'll ever get used to--told by the manager that 20% will be given for my purchases, only to find at the register that it will only apply if I buy twice my order--and all with the knowledge that if I play my cards right and press long and hard enough will somehow settle on 10 or 15%. 

And through it all, there are so many beautiful similarities that I have noticed as well.  Human nature manifest when a random stranger decides to help push my car uphill on a busy Friday night after I somehow engaged the engine deactivator.  The laughter of children playing with one another on the stairs.  And the peaceful nature of elderly passersby. 

I have come to love this place—the smell of the food stands, women with hair that has been permed several times too many, the crazy sherut drivers who seem bent on ending my life but somehow always manage to get me where I need to go (and all in one piece at that!).  This is life in Haifa.

It's crazy, I'll be here for another 29 months, and I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do when I get back.  Will I go to Minneapolis?  Fargo?  Pioneer?  For now, I can only revel in my temporary home, taking in the beauty that for example, the diversity the World Centre has to offer.  I can LOVE my job working in the purchasing department as a local buyer.  And I can certainly deepen myself in Mr. Dunbar's youth classes each week.

But everyone leaves the World Centre.  And while 29 months seems a long time, already one has passed.  Oh well.

This is a test. This is only a test.

I'm sitting at my office desk during a three-minute break in the International Teaching Centre building at the Baha'i World Centre and wondering who is reading this?