Space Cake Break at the Titicaca Lake

Viral campaign Kony 2012 hit the online shores of Colombo late last evening. As expected it has been duly shared and re-shared by civic conscious netizens. That was last night. By this evening, Colombo’s youth intelligentsia has declared war on Kony 2012.  I find this deeply disturbing on multiple levels.

For one, there seems to be little appreciation of the vast human consciousness that is connecting and spreading worldwide via the internet as a result of a short documentary made by Invisible Children. Jason Russel has cleverly made the world that laughed at Rebecca Black and cried over Justin Beiber watch, comprehend and align with – for the first time perhaps – a social issue in need of awareness.

While watching Kony 2012 I was struck by the simplicity and effective elegance with which the video was produced. I spent 16 hours recently watching Chris Burgess [Assistant Director on Gladiator, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Batman Begins] shoot footage for a 5 minute trailer and could appreciate the fact that substantial time and energy had been invested in making this half an hour documentary.  

I am also deeply appreciative of the amount of thought that has gone into planning Kony 2012. Invisible Children has some very clear objectives. They have a strategy and they are implementing it. They have only a few requests to make of the general public – sign the pledge, buy the merchandise, donate a few dollars every month, share the video and create awareness.

Critics have alleged that Invisible Children is a ‘dubious’ charity organization, with only ‘31% of fund received going towards actually helping anyone’ and most of the money being spent on the travel and filmmaking expenses of the top tier. Shouldn’t 26, 684, 765 views on You Tube and 914k views on Vimeo as of March 8^th 2012 ad the attention of the world be sufficient proof of the effectiveness of Invisible Children’s investment?

There is also a picture being circulated by critics that question the true intentions of the founders of Invisible Children. Indi has a picture of them here, captioned “The founders of Invisible Children with guns they do support.”which is a rather sweeping, unfortunate judgement to make, given that he himself not too long ago was accused of – by unfair means of a photograph on Flickr – having ‘ties’ with the LTTE; Sri Lanka’s own brand of rebels who were finally and summarily defeated by…wait for it…military action in 2008.

The biggest criticism of the Kony 2012 project is that it recommends military intervention as a solution to the problem. If this is the case, both the video and the website have failed to make that clear, stating instead that the objective of the film Kony2012 is to ‘raise support for his arrest and bring him to justice’.  The website further elucidates that US military advisors are on a ‘time-limited’ mission in Africa and that public support is necessary to apply pressure on US policy makers have US military advisors ‘support the Ugandan Army until Kony has been captured and the LRA disbanded.”

Yes, this does mean that Kony will be militarily captured. If he puts up a fight, it will be bloody and messy and many of his child soldiers will die with him. But this is almost inevitable. It has been noted before that the violence with which is dictator (or in this case a violent war lord) is taken down is directly proportionate to his hold on to power. The alternative would be to not capture him at all leaving him to continue his abuses. Argument has also been raised that Kony has been virtually inactive since 2006, and no longer operates in Uganda, but I’m not sure how a ‘virtual inaction’ by a religious fanatic leading a violent army makes things any better or safer for children.

Ultimately, Kony 2012 is a social experiment, the first of its kind and it has enormous potential. As Derryn Hinch noted here “who knows: if the world had Twitter in 1939 maybe a beast named Adolf Hitler would have been stopped millions of lives earlier.” And he is right. Kony 2012 is a campaign that appeals to a human beings ability to care. It places its faith in and stems from a belief that if enough people knew what was happening they would care enough to do something, anything, to stop abuse from happening.

Criticism of the Kony 2012 project is an excuse not to care, an excuse to refrain from emotionally investing in a project that may or may not bring about the results we all want, that may or may not be the best, most meticulously thought out, painless way to go about stopping Joseph Kony. Certainly, we are not in possession of all of the fact surrounding Kony, Uganda, the LRA, the struggle etc and we have more to learn. But yesterday I didn’t know about Joseph Kony. Today I do. And that is a step in the right direction. And Invisible Children made that happen. Respect. 

You can watch Kony 2012 here.

                                         off google images…

I’ve been sick for some time now. No. Wait, I’ve been almost sick for some time now, and believe me, that state of being neither here nor there aint fun. 

It’s nothing serious really - just a headache and flutterbudget in the chest. I think it’s phlegm. I didn’t go to the doctor for a second opinion though - just walked down to Food City for some over the counter antibiotics and our very own panadol.

They let me buy the panadol, but not the antibiotics. DamnyouCargills. Anyway, the pharmacy next door didn’t care that I didn’t have a prescription and obliged. 

Two days later the stuffy head feeling left. Yay! 

Two days later, it came back. 

Which is why, on a whim, I decided to try Sinhala බෙහෙත් - ayurveda.

First thing I noticed - it’s more expensive than Western medication. Treatment at the hands of one Dr. Tudor Senadheera cost me a total of 1325 at the Siddhalepa Ayurveda Hospital on Templer’s Road, while at the pharmacy its cost less than 500 bucks.

Dr. Tudor asked me some basic questions. And then spoke it what seemed like a foreign language to the assistant doctor on duty. Turns out he was prescribing the medicine. 7 different kinds. Pills and tonics and powders.

The administration of Ayurvedic medicine takes more time than the Western ones - gotta squeeze dodams, add bees honey, steep in boiling water for half an hour, mix, pound, grind etc etc.  Out with the convenient pill popping. 

Ayurvedic medicine also tastes like poison. I am very serious. I have a healthily curious appetite and am not against trying out random shizz just for the heck of it, but this made me gag. Not once, but over and over again till I spat it out. And that was the first tablet. 

I walked around with my tongue hanging out for the next ten minutes or so, alternately awed by how bad it tasted and how much good it must be (fingers crossed) doing for me.  That was this morning. Now its evening and I must go poison myself again. 

But I’ve decided to stick with the alternative medication, even if the dosage has been prescribed for a week, three whole days more than Western medicine is ordinarily prescribed. 

There is just…something…that feels so…wholesome…about taking the bitter stuff. The hippy in me revels at the powdered herbs and moist, greenish black pills and terrible tasting concoctions.  I have convinced myself that the bitter-er it tastes the better-er it must be for me. 

Mainly I think I trust the fact that it’s been practiced for so long in our country, that it is a part of history and heritage. 

                                            the stuff, unpowdered form 

Posted this first waaay back in 2010. Re-posting as a BIG hint to the Universe. Because I hate waiting. 

Image by Melvin Sokolsky. Part of a the iconin ‘Bubble Series’ shot for the Harper’s Bazaar when he was just 21. For more images see here, or just google the man. 

wait

in silence

mind storm

blue sky, all around

mind storm

the birds, they sing

in the trees

mind storm

the fish, they swim

in the seas

mind storm

inside

you strive to breathe

mind storm

the earth is barren

it dries up

the clouds they float

and then shrivel and drop

mind storm mind storm

wait for the drop

the pin prick

that bleeds

brings life

to need

and speed is lost

with the seed

of time

that grows, and flows

with breath

that smokes

and rows

of cornfeilds

lie

all broke,

you grope

the sun shines

blindness

takes over your mind.

wait

in silence

mind storm.

No matter how far I stray from you, I come back to you.

And you’ll stand in front me on your day of birth, and offer to shake my hand with your blessed right hand, as peers..

And you’ll accept that I won’t kiss your hand, or bow to you,

But offer my hand to shake yours,

And you smile. And I smile..

And I tell you “I strayed away”,

And you tell me “But you still love me, more than any other”..

You’ll tell me that I understood you rightfully,

And I’ll tell you that I made sure of that for my sake, before it was for yours..

Someone will yell from behind me: “He’s not one of your followers!”.

And you’ll gently smile and say: “When was I ever seeking followers?”

And I’ll rush and say: “I was never a follower”,

And you’ll pat on my shoulder and say: “I understand that.. I understand that..”

They’ll wonder in suspicion,

About our long stand together,

And our longer chats together,

And they’ll bad word me specifically.. Those envious..

But you’ll see it clear on their faces, as if by true divine revelation,

And you’ll preach them:

“Oh those of you who vocalise belief, yet never enact it, know that those who do good deeds to humanity are our kins, and those who loved people and loved kindness are loved back by us..”

And some of their faces will turn,

And darken in anger or confusion,

And you’ll whisper to me:

“that’s why I loved you more than any one other..”

And I’ll try to preach them like you do,

But you’ll stop me out of pity and say:

“That won’t do any good, Hamza, no use of it.

They won’t accept you like this..

Neither the Christians nor the Jews will take you as their own, either,

Until you believe in what they believe..”

And I reply “Not even the Muslims?”

To which you’ll answer “not even the Muslims..”

I’ll shake your hands when the sun sets on your day of birth.

And you’ll grip harder on my hand as you say:

“Be in your people as I was in mine..”

I won’t promise you that,

But I promise you’ll be a symbol and a role model always..

Always..

And the sun will set..

And you’ll wave your hands at me from a far,

As you disappear into the horizon..”

This beautiful, beautiful, insightful poem, originally written in Arabic, got 23 year old Saudi journalist Hamza Kashagri locked in prison, accused of blasphemy - for which he could face the death penalty.

If history has taught us anything, it should be to avoid this shame; the shame that comes from centuries of humanity waging war against humanity, shame that comes from imagining that God - any God - requires humanity to kill on His/Her/Its behalf.

If you think Hamza deserves the basic human right of expression, show some online support by either joining this Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/217865731642049/ OR tweeting with the hashtag #freehamza

I do sincerely believe that every little bit helps.

This post was first published on Indi’s site months ago. 

College has opened again after the December hols and I thought it appropriate to dig this up. 

S.Thomas’s College, Mount Lavinia has stood around in the same location for over a hundred years. Here’s what they should do next.

Traffic

1. Draw up a traffic plan for each of the school entrances – complete with a mapped out drive-through route and designated drop-off points.
2. Approach the owners of the empty parking lots within the vicinity of the school and negotiate a lease of the space for school-van / vehicle parking during school hours.
3. Consider investing in school buses for pickup and drop off, starting from three or four main locations. (i.e Fort to Mount Lavinia, Panadura to Mount Lavina, Thalawatugoda to Mount Lavina, Colombo area to Mount Lavinia)
4. Organize a roster for teachers and volunteer parents to pitch in and oversee school bus / dropoff point safety.
5. Have zebra crossings placed at strategic locations near the entrances to the school and assign senior students / teachers / volunteer parents to help with traffic and crossing safety.
6. Open up a traffic / travel registry for each section of the school so that parent can register and obtain a place for their children in the school bus and / or explore car-pooling options. (also, online)

Communications

7. Encourage and foster greater parent/teacher interaction and networking – a monthly grade-at-a-time, informal meeting for teachers and parents, supervised by the Headmaster of the section and an outsourced consultant, and have both parties talk, volunteer ideas, tackle problems and share responsibilities
8. Engage in more effective media practices – use specific Twitter accounts and a Facebook page for alerts and notifications regarding the school/each grade and it’s activities only. Alternately tie up with a service provider for news alerts.

   Ex: School will be closed tomorrow the 22nd of June 2011 at 10 am for all boys from the Junior School.

   (this practice can and should be encouraged to be performed by teachers from each grade allowing for transparency and greater coordination)- training will be necessary.

9. Depose outdated school admin / staff and re-haul the entire system with a team of new, young, social media, media savvy managing professionals.
10. Hire a consultant. (me)

Making of a Model is brand spanking new reality television series, currently broadcasting at 9pm Tuesdays on ART Television in Colombo. In it, 17 year old Shenelle, 18 year old Anita, and I, the oldest at 26, face a number of challenges intended to initiate us to the travails of the modern modelling industry, push us out of our comfort zones and prepare us for professional careers either here or abroad.  

It is easily assumed that models are.only.good looking and have the easiest job -preening in front of a camera. The show seeks to obliterate this assumption by showing those watching the long hours that go into each shoot - hours of hair dressing, hours of make up, hours of waiting on the sidelines dressed and ready, hours of nervousness before a shoot, and finally, a nerve racking performance in front of the cameras. 

Performance it is and must be - for a vital human energy must transmogrify onto print matter in order for a shoot like this to be successful, and that takes intense concentration and commitment. Imagine the scene - you are heavily made up, distinctly not yourself, dressed it designer pieces of clothing and/or jewelry. The lights are so bright in your face you can’t see straight. Some 10-20 people are surrounding you, watching your every move. Depending on the location of the shoot there may be more. And…you are expected…to perform. And perform and perform some more. 

Not so easy. 

Fortunately, the three of us are in excellent hands. Singaporean born, former top model Jacquie Mei is the official project coordinator and unofficial ‘Mommy’ - constantly giving us girls useful tips and tricks, pushing us to get good sleep, drink more water, eat less sweets, eat healthy etc etc etc. Having begun with looking after just our hair, Chagall’s Gerald Solomons - experience in Hawaii, Aukland, Sydney - has now become our mentor and the unofficial ‘Daddy’ on set. It is Gerald who berates us for being silly and scared when facing particularly daunting photo shoots, and the same Gerald who makes excuses and defends us for being so silly and scared when facing particularly daunting photo shoots.  

We’re probably most afraid of Sandun on the sets. Fiercely professional, Sandun demands the same level of professionalism from models. He is easy to work with though, constantly communicating with the models, putting us and ease and directing us through each shoot. Sandun shows each of us the images he captures as he takes the shot, so that we can discuss the pros and cons of each image and decide which angle to take with the next photo and which to drop. 

Supported by a stellar team from Art Television, Making of a Model is new, hip and decidedly different. A decision to reduce the number of contestants and thus steer clear of the cut throat competitiveness so much a part of modern reality TV gives this show added credence, as more focus is placed behind-the-scenes, allowing each of us girls to present our own story, interpretation and experience to the viewers. 

More importantly, the show pushes past the benchmark set by the previous year’s ‘Ford Supermodel’ contest - won by Olivia Major - and creates more media space for the modelling and fashion industry. When audiences island wide watch, internalise and accept modelling as a profession, when the rumours, stories, myths and fears surrounding it are dispelled, there will be room for remarkable growth. Viva la Vida! 

Catch Making of a Model on Art Television at 9pm every Tuesday. Repeats are on Thursday at 9am and Sunday at 8pm. For highlights, sneak peaks and before and after images, look here. 

XX

Babylon is trouble. In a Biblical sense it was trouble, and today, on the interwebs, it still is trouble.

                                               Belshazzar, Prince of Babylon from here 

Babylon is the name of a site that offers Free Online Translation. Don’t go near it. I saw it around the interwebs some weeks ago, stalking me like some online demon.

In true demon fashion it donned the attire of an angel and….and tricked me. I don’t even know how it got into my machine.  

Long story short, I have somehow managed to download and install Babylon. I thought I was installing a Subtitle Finder, but Babylon slipped in and took over my address bar. 

Which means that despite having the almighty Chrome installed, every time I type something onto the address bar some fucking Babylon Search thing takes over and ruins the experience for me. 

I uninstalled the Subtitle Finder thing hoping Babylon would go away, it didn’t. On forums online I found that this demon clings tenaciously and is difficult to get rid off. 

On online advice,  I found Revouninstaller, downloaded, installed and used it to find and delete all remaining traces of Babylon and the Subtitle Finder, but Babylon Search still lives and now all my Chrome Extensions have disappered too. 

Can somebody help me get rid of this damn thing????//#%&*@#$%?!

I have a zit. It is on my face. I have never had a zit on my face. I touched it and wondered if some insect had bitten me, but no, it is very definitely a zit. It’s a novel experience. It’s not an experience I want to repeat. I now know why girls, other girls, hate zits so much. This had better not be sign of things to come - i.e, fading youth and oncoming middle age. 

                                                     image via 

PS - I didn’t touch it, its going away now. 

Okaythankyoubye. 

Originally published on Groundviews, this is me, in response to US Ambassador Jaliya Wickramasuriya’s denial of any rape, assault and violence against women in Sri Lanka: 

Sri Lanka’s Ambassador to the US, Jaliya Wickramasuriya, recently responded to the Crisis Group Report’s assertion that assault on women in Sri Lanka is on the rise. On the one hand, the Ambassador denies the very existence of rape or violence against women in Sri Lanka – “Rapes, this and that not taking any place in Sri Lanka”. On the other hand, he admits that is does exist, by saying that “Like any other country, we have, like couple of cases”. Having thus stumbled his way through with these two contradictory statements, the Ambassador then lists two reasons to support his first assertion. One, that there was no evidence on the increase of violence against women. Two, that Sri Lanka is culturally incomparable because the country has so many women in key positions of authority, it is impossible to think any women are victims of violence. Hence, in his own words, “100% I don’t agree with the report”

The Ambassador however is quick to justify the existence of the ‘couple’ of cases (the ones he first said did not exist) by pointing fingers at the US – “you also have some cases like this”. The logic here seems to be that since its ok and there for you, its ok and there for us too. He then goes on to reassure those listening that “when it comes, the police or whoever will take action against that”.  He tellingly trails off in the end with the word “normally”. Perhaps what he means to say is that ‘normally’, the Police would take action against these things, but sometimes, the possibility exists that they won’t.

I don’t understand this. I don’t understand why our diplomats and politicians continue to bristle defensively, refusing to accept fault, scrambling to cover the massive chip on their collective shoulders. How hard can it be to admit one is wrong? How very different would it have been if Ambassador Wickramasuriya had said ‘Yes this is a problem, but we as a nation are committed to ending it’?

Instead, we have the Ambassador proudly list out that Sri Lanka was the first nation to have a female Prime Minister followed by a female President, that Sri Lanka’s current Attorney-General and Chief Justice are both women, that most organisations are run by women and that over 50% of Sri Lanka’s workforce is female. I don’t get how any of this adds up to his assertion that there is no violence or assault against women in Sri Lanka? If the Ambassador was trying to prove that there is no gender discrimination in the island, he is still wrong. For it is a combination of the right political connections, money, class and education that propelled these women forward, not the absence of gender discrimination. The female workforce he speaks of are those that are the most vulnerable to abuse. These are the women that, for work, often have leave behind their children with abusive husbands. These are the women who spend their days hunched over sewing machines earning dollars for their employers and a pittance for themselves. These are the women that spend their days picking tea leaves by hand.

As I noted in a recent article to Groundviews, the assault, abuse, rape and violence against women in Sri Lanka is not restricted to a particular class. It exists everywhere. I know and appreciate those committed to creating platforms and safe spaces to help women educate and empower themselves. But that progress is hampered when the likes of Ambassador Wickramasuriya and those he represents deny the existence of assault, rape and violence against women. Turning a blind eye to those trapped in that viscous cycle – leaving them alone, unrecognised with little or no recourse – it to prolong and worsen their torture. In denying the existence of assault, rape and violence against women, the Ambassador is denying the existence of women like me, who have been abused. His weak argument that the Police or related authorities would take action in the case of such occurrences falls short of being true, for what I experienced with the Police was further discrimination and sneering, not support.

So what exactly is the Ambassador saying? There is no abuse, but there is some abuse, and when there is some abuse, the Police deals with it… normally.