And I'm Back

Twenty-two hours ago, I awoke in Leon, Nicaragua after a restless three hours of sleep, took a cold shower (warm water is extremely rare, although at least slightly more tolerable given the year-round hot weather), and headed to the airport. In two hours, I'll go to sleep at home, in California. I always find it jarring to wake up in one country and fall asleep in another. The psychological distance between Nicaragua and California is infinitely greater than the actual relatively short 2500 miles flying distance.

I left for Nicaragua a week ago after having immersed myself in reading about the country's history in the preceding two weeks. Having previously been only minimally familiar with events leading up to, including, and following the Sandinista revolution in 1979, I felt that I had arrived at a reasonably accurate expectation of what I'd find. In the end, I wasn't completely wrong, but the story painted by books and internet sources turned out to do a dismal job of describing the much more intangible feeling of this amazing country. It took a week of travelling and talking with Nicaraguans to gain the most basic understanding of what drives the average Nicaraguan psyche, how they view themselves and the rest of the world, and what their hopes and fears are.

Over the next week, I'm going to attempt to relate my experiences there, hopefully not defaulting to rote recitations of my day-to-day schedule, but instead focusing more on capturing the most important elements and, above all, the essence of this simultaneously breathtakingly beautiful and depressingly ugly country.

For now though, suffice it to say that I had an absolutely incredible time and didn't feel ready to return home this morning. However, I am going to love the long, hot shower I plan to take tomorrow morning.

Oh yeah, and, god bless fast internet access.

And I'm Off

... to Nicaragua.

Everything fell into place, and in ten hours, I'll be boarding a plane first bound for Houston, where I'll meet up with Ladan, and then on to Managua. By 7PM local time (5PM here), I'll be in Nicaragua.

I remember watching the Iran-Contra scandal hearings in 1986 on TV; I remember watching Oliver North, looking as if he had been poured into his immaculate Marine uniform, hold up his right hand and swear to tell the truth; I remember hearing Reagan say, over and over, "I don't recall."

At that time, I couldn't imagine I'd ever visit this country. As a teenager I consumed books about the CIA by the truckload. I read about covert operations in Latin America, Africa, the Middle East, Asia. I recall reading about the Sandinistas, the FSLN. Back then I had no real political leanings, but I was feeling more and more disgusted with the hand the CIA had had in so many countries, so many democracies, so much death. It feels ... ironic? or is 'just' (as in 'righteous') a better word? that I've been to Iran and am now going to Nicaragua. In a way it's made the show-trial aura of the Iran-Contra hearings unexpectedly personal for me.

In preparing for this trip, I'd been reading about the country online. Conveniently, this month's presidential election provided an opportunity to catch up on recent developments. Hoping to find some travel books (we've bought the new 2006 Lonely Planet guide, the first year they've had a book specifically for Nicaragua, presumably an indication of the relatively small, but growing, tourist industry there; but it's with Ladan in Phoenix) I went to the SJSU library the other day, which, I have to say again, is just the coolest damn library I've ever seen. Unfortunately their travel section is small and had very little about Latin America. However, I did find two non-travel books about Nicaragua, one written by Salman Rushdie called "The Jaguar Smile". This was a surprise to me, as I hadn't heard of it before. Turns out Rushdie's donations to an aid organization in the 80's helped to set him up for a visit there in the summer of 1986. He spent about two months traveling around the country, interviewing FSLN officials, including President Daniel Ortega, as well as average citizens. He relates a very even-handed view of the Sandinistas and what they were trying to do; he doesn't hesitate to criticize their mistakes, but nonetheless finds reason to admire and genuinely hope for the success of their government, a sensation that he openly professes to have no precedent for, given his background as a dissident journalist. The book is short, only 170 pages, but presents a fascinating range of short stories about events he witnessed and people he interviewed while there. I finished the book in a few hours and felt extremely contented; this was exactly what I needed to provide a more down-to-earth view of the dry encyclopedic history lessons about the country I'd been soaking up in the past few weeks.

The majority of the countries I've traveled to - Italy, Iran, India, South Korea, and Mexico - have been places that, years ago, I'd never have thought I'd ever visit. And they've all turned out to be incredibly eye-opening and moving experiences for me. I'm looking forward to this week in Nicaragua to spark that same feeling of exploration and discovery; the overwhelming feeling that living in one country for an entire lifetime feels so depressingly stifling. There's so much world out there! Trips to other countries always make me feel so alive.

I'll be back in one week, but hope to get another post up here before then, depending on the frequency and quality of my internet access while there. Regardless, I'll have plenty of pictures to share when I get back.

Calm in Colorado

This past weekend Ladan and I flew to Denver, Colorado, and then drove north to Loveland to visit Duncan and Ellen. I've been out to see them twice before, and both times I've come back refreshed and energized, partly because of the peaceful aura their house exudes, and partly because of the beauty of the Rockies where we go to hike. This was the first time that Ladan was free to come too, so she joined me.

As usual, the three days I spent there were very relaxing. The schedule at their house is completely fluid. Sometimes we all just go off and do our own thing for a while; sometimes we all occupy ourselves while Duncan spends 45 minutes on the toilet; sometimes some, or all of us, just sit and stare into nothingness. Sometimes we talk about life. Duncan and Ellen both have had incredibly amazing experiences and have fascinating insights into the sort of deep issues that I think lots of people never even think about - or purposely avoid thinking about. When I leave their house, I inevitably have a few things to ponder and process for a while. Always, there's lots of face-muscle-paralyzing, chest-splitting, tear-inducing laughter. I always look forward to, and thoroughly enjoy, the feeling that nothing is rushing us in any way, and that anything goes. (Well, I could do without Duncan's incessant farting, but clearly his system is destroyed beyond repair and I should just accept it.)

One of the things Duncan and I were excited to do was skate together for the first time. We both bought boards at the same time a few months ago, he a longboard and me a regular board. Both of us initially skated regularly but then it tapered off as time went on. On Sunday, about an hour before Ladan and I were planning to leave, we hadn't had any skate time yet and so we headed out right after our very late breakfast.

It was a great feeling to walk out the front door, lay the board down, and start skating; on my own, I always drive to where I want to skate. That simple act took me back 15 years to when I skated daily, and planted a big smile on my face. We skated for about 15 minutes until reaching a school, and headed toward the tennis courts, with their enticingly smooth green surface. For about a half hour we skated around the courts, me showing Duncan my ollie problems, Duncan making a half-hearted attempt at his first ollie ever, then me trying out his longboard for the first time. He made the comment that I was thinking - "man it'd be cool if you lived here, we could skate all the time!" Both of us were having a blast.

And then our time was up and we headed home. Ladan came out and took some pictures of us, and got some great shots of me in midair. I then packed up my board, loaded the car, and we were off back to Denver to fly back home.

I don't have a large number of friends, but the ones I do have, I value highly. One of the toughest realities of growing up, i.e. of leaving college and joining the "real world", was that I ended up moving away from most of my friends. While I don't regret seeing and living in new areas, and know that I wouldn't want to stay in the same area my whole life, I really, really miss my friends, and man does it feel good to just hang out for a few days and relax.

[I've put up pictures of the trip here.]

Does Doctrine Determine Belief?

On road trips I usually drive, and Ladan often reads aloud from the latest issue of Time magazine, which she subscribes to. Today we were driving to LA - we're still trying to rescue this Nicaragua trip by showing up on the consulate's doorstep Monday morning - and she read me an article called "In Touch With Jesus." The sub-title was "Sugar-coated, MTV-style youth ministry is so over. Bible-based worship is packing teens in pews now."

Barely a week before his downfall, this quote caught my attention:

"Some experts point out that young people typically drift from organized religion in early adulthood, but others say the high attrition is a sign that churches need to change the way they try to engage the next generation of the faithful. 'This dip should serve as an exhortation for everyone to be about the business of discipleship, missions and a higher calling than popcorn-and-peanuts youth culture,' says Ted Haggard, president of the National Association of Evangelicals. [Take that statement with a grain of salt, as apparently being about the business of discipleship involves leading a secret life of gay sex trysts and occasionally buying meth.] Scholars who have looked at young Christians say their spiritual drift is in part the result of a lack of knowledge about their faith. 'The vast majority of teens who call themselves Christians haven't been well educated in religious doctrine and therefore don't really know what they believe,' says Christian Smith, a University of Notre Dame sociologist and the author of Soul Searching: The Religious and Spiritual Lives of American Teenagers."

Did he really just say that? I read that as, these kids haven't been brainwashed sufficiently, so they don't know how to define what they believe. WTF? Are you kidding me? Isn't that completely backward? Shouldn't you decide what you believe first, and then see how that fits into a religious framework? Your beliefs should determine what religious doctrine you accept; doctrine should not determine what you believe. Kids who don't know what makes a Christian should be urged to not call themselves Christian until they do know and then only if they agree with the beliefs; they should not be told what they believe. Telling people what they believe is mind control, plain and simple.

Manufacturing Consent

My first encounter with Noam Chomsky was an article forwarded to me immediately after Sept. 11. In it he argues the importance of asking why the attacks occurred, in full anticipation that this question would be all but ignored by the mainstream media in the aftermath of the attacks, as the flags starting waving and the war drums started beating. While not completely ignorant to Chomsky's subject matter - I had read quite a bit about the CIA's activities around the world during the past few decades as a teenager - the article was definitely an eye-opener for me, as I had remained mostly apathetic toward politics and world affairs the entire time I was in college. [I'm unable to find the article anymore, but this short piece on his website sums up the main points.]

After that article I read his "Rogue States", an excellent critique of this most misused term. I then went on to read "Necessary Illusions", "Understanding Power", and "The Chomsky Reader". Although I haven't read it, Chomsky makes many references to his earlier "Manufacturing Consent" in his later books, when he needs to refer to examples of willful media manipulation.

Inspired by a Nicaraguan roommate of a friend of Ladan's, we've decided to visit Nicaragua during Thanksgiving this year. After having bought plane tickets a month ago, we're having some trouble getting Ladan's visa processed and are considering canceling the trip if it doesn't work out. Today the friend mentioned that if Sandinista leader "El Comandante" Daniel Ortega wins the presidential election tomorrow, there is a slight chance that her family, who is apparently part of the very small elite business class who are vehemently against him, could face some "difficulties" in the near future. The bottom line is that we may be able to convince the airline to let us cancel the tickets due to "political unrest", which supposedly prevents them from penalizing us.

The irony here is that, based on what I've read about Ortega in the past, and on my general world outlook, I wholeheartedly support him becoming president. How can I not be behind a guy who proclaims, "The poor cannot wait and on November 5, they will bury savage capitalism in Nicaragua." When we first starting considering the trip, although I was excited about the prospect of staying with a family there, I was suspicious of their place within the society and whether, as their guests, we might be presented with a view of the country distorted by the proverbial rose-tinted glasses. And so it seems my misgivings were well-founded.

Curious about the international view on the elections (admittedly, this was the first I'd heard about them), I checked out both CNN and BBC for articles covering it. As usual, BBC has a whole series of pretty impartial articles about the elections and the country in general. CNN has one news story and one extremely anti-Ortega piece that should qualify more as op-ed than news.

The BBC's Duncan Kennedy, talking with Ortega's conservative opponent Eduardo Montealegre, quotes him as follows:

"Ortega hasn't changed," he says. "He still has the same friends like Castro, Gaddafi, Chavez and Bin Laden."

"Osama Bin Laden?" I ask.

"Yes," comes the unflinching reply. "Everyone knows it".

Now check this out. CNN's Aneesh Raman writes:

As one of his opponents told me, "Ortega hasn't changed, same man with the same politics. His friends haven't changed. He's friends of Castro, he's friends of Chavez, of the president of Iran."

Wait, what the ... ? Surely Raman is talking about Montealegre here, right? What are the chances that this guy would feed the same few lines to two different reporters, apparently at different times, but say "the president of Iran" instead of "bin Laden" to the latter?

Or could it be ... that Raman ganked the quote from somewhere else, and somebody at CNN decided that trying to link bin Laden with Ortega was a little too ridiculous to be taken seriously, but, hmmm, what other bad guy can we use? Ooo, ooo, I know, how about Ahmadinejad? And just like that, the name gets changed. And rather than risk anyone, maybe even Montealegre himself, from protesting the incorrect quote, the speaker is simply referred to as "one of his opponents". Montealegre is the only one of the other four candidates who is believed to have any chance of winning - why wouldn't you mention him by name?

This feels like outright manipulation to me: manufacturing consent. Inserting a little barb that links, rightly or not, the evils of Islamic Iran and Sandinista Nicaragua. History, even very recent history, has shown quite convincingly that if you say something enough, people just start to assume it's true. And the American public has more than proven itself incapable of making informed decisions or paying undue attention to pesky facts, so why not throw that link in there?

Here's another interesting discrepancy. CNN's Raman writes "an estimated 70 percent of Nicaraguans want him nowhere near the presidency." The BBC's Kennedy writes that "Mr Ortega will be hoping for support from the 80% of Nicaraguans who live on at most $2 a day." Everyone agrees that Ortega's support comes overwhelmingly from the poor. So mathematically, how on earth is it possible that 80% of the population lives on $2 a day - the CIA's own World Factbook claims that 50% of the population lives below the poverty line - and yet somehow, 70% of the population is against Ortega? Does that make any sense whatsoever?

If CNN can try to pull this crap off, I shudder to think how Fox is demonizing Ortega right about now.

[By the way, guess who's leading the US's anti-Ortega campaign? None other than convicted felon Oliver North.]

How's That Code Coming?

Whenever I'm looking for a laugh, I go poking through my e-mail archives. Starting first with my university accounts, then Yahoo when I graduated, and now including my work addresses, I've got ten years worth of hysterical material from my small group of about four or five friends. I've often commented to them how I wish there was some way this material could be published, or gotten out to a wider audience, because invariably when I spend any time in these archives, I emerge gasping for breath and with tears streaming down my cheeks, from laughing so hard.

While I haven't figured out any way to bring these e-mails to light yet, I do want to occasionally post recent noteworthy e-mail content on this blog, and I'm starting that today with an absolute masterpiece typed by Duncan yesterday. The subject was a new-to-him Sun server that he'd just acquired, and the software he was installing on it. I then sarcastically asked what games he was going to put on it, to which he harshly replied that games are silly little things for bitches, and that the real games are writing your own code.

At this point, you must - MUST - go watch this video from Family Guy before reading any further.

Duncan followed up his comment with a perfectly executed attack on my so far entirely baseless claims over the past few years to be interested in artificial intelligence for games, and my supposed plans to first learn a real coding language and then to start taking on AI projects.

"So how's that code comin', huh Greg? Got some code there for us? Gotta a big, uh, big stack of UML diagrams there? Gotta, gotta nice little project you're working on there? Your big AI program you've been working on for 3 years? Huh? Gotta, gotta compelling architecture? Yeah? Gotta aspect-oriented framework setup? Huh? Gotta little simulated sentience brewing there? Working on, working on that for quite some time? Huh? (voice getting higher pitched) Yeah, talking about that 3 years ago. Been working on that the whole time? Nice little library? Beginning, middle, and end? Some work with the gaming industry, some games with the Defense Department? At the end your code benefits from both and is richer for the experience? Yeah? Yeah? (voice returns to normal) No, no, you deserve some time off."

And that, my friends, is a perfect example of how to use humor to thoroughly mock, embarass, crush, send scurrying, and hopefully in the end, motivate someone to get off their ass and start walking the walk.

Until then, I'll be off in the corner, softly whimpering.