Category Archives: Text

Aye Aye Amsterdam

I was recently taking a boatload of guests around the area of Amsterdam known as Prinseneiland, my favorite neighborhood.  As I pointed to the old buildings and the site of former ship builders and tobacco warehouses, I noticed some tiny signs in a few windows. Bringing the boat a bit closer to these beautiful homes, I read the title of the flyer out loud “Ai Amsterdam”.  The flyer spoke about being tired of the city of Amsterdam’s excessive rules about every little thing someone can or can’t do, from walking your dog in the park without a leash, to standing at an outdoor bar with a drink in your hand.  The flier said to join the movement if you shared these concerns. I slowly pulled away thinking about all the increasingly heavy handed policies effecting seemingly every activity in this once unique and free spirited town.

A few days later, my buddy Mindcaster of Amsterdamize links to an article in the Dutch press; Ai Amsterdam was meeting with members of the city council.  Again the article spoke about the attempted regulation of where you can stand outside a pub with a drink… actually more like how you can’t anymore – something to that effect.

After seeing so many cities around the world carry out their “clean up” campaigns to try and give their town a family friendly super tidy image where everyone is happy and ready for your tourism, Ai Amsterdam has certainly caught my attention.  I believe it was on their website where they pointed out that with all the over-regulating of life in the city, we also lose something very special about who we are and how we live.

I’ve only begun reading about Ai Amsterdam and in the end it might just be a flash in the pan. But I’ve heard enough to know I’d like to sit down with some of the organizers and layout what is at stake and what can be done in the name of leaving some things outside the reach of city hall.

John Walker Lindh, The Story

It is a name that many people have already forgotten, but when the US invaded Afghanistan after 9/11, his capture made headlines around the world. “American Taliban” they called him, and everywhere you looked there was a photo of him looking all evil and dangerous.? He was imprisoned at facilities for some of the most dangerous criminals in the US.? It seemed the public, much like the media, had accepted the story that he hated the US, he trained with the Taliban, and was therefore rightfully imprisoned and this most despicable type of terrorist.

I hadn’t thought much about John Walker since those first years of his imprisonment, though like alot of the lackluster reporting on the activities of the US military, I’d long figured we were only informed about a fraction of the full story.

So last friday when DemocracyNow interviewed John Walker Lindh’s parents, I was curious to hear the parents account of how John got to be who, what and where he was.? Some will say “well they’re parents, they want to defend their son”, which is fine to keep in mind. But when you read about how he became interested in Islam after watching Spike Lee’s Malcolm X Film, and later went to Yemen with the goal of becoming fluent in Arabic. Then comes the part where he consults his parents for their support for him to study the Koran in Pakistan. Even these few steps show alot about where his interests were and how he found himself in that part of the world.? Even if it isn’t 100% true and doesn’t excuse his actions later, my point and the larger point is that the story of John Walker isn’t as simple as they painted it years ago.

Perhaps it isn’t interesting to you to hear the testimony of two parents all these years later, who actually don’t seek to portray their son as some kind of saint or martyr.? However I feel their words are compelling and very much worth hearing.

Protest or Film?

Only a few more days of my Portugal-Family vacation remain. Today I’m quickly checking in with a video I captured in the Bica, downtown Lisbon, over the weekend. What initially looked like a demonstration coming way, very quickly turns out to be a scene from a film being shot in my neighborhood.


Kind of shame, looked like it would have been a great protest.

Frank McCourt Remembered

I was in my second year of University, the year was 1998, and someone special handed me the book “Angela’s Ashes” and said – read this, PLEASE. For the next month I would take the book with me everywhere, sneaking a chapter or 2 in whenever I got the chance.? The stories of a poor Irish boy growing up in Limerick, Ireland, with all the beauty and tragedy of his childhood.? The book was written in such a way that it became addicting to read, and eventually I would talk about it all the time with the person who had given me the book.? Later of course there was the film version, but it couldn’t compare with that time in my life when I read this special book.

The author, Frank McCourt, died this week at the age of 78.? In honor of his passing, On Point featured an interview with him from 2005. I listened to that interview today as I made my way on the buses and metro of Lisbon. McCourt’s voice took me back to 1998, seemingly putting the book back in my hands.? He spoke about teaching in New York City and his life now compared to Ireland back then.

After hearing this I’m now about to set off listening to the audio book for? “Teacher Man”, his third book. I highly recommend listening to this NPR interview. Whether it was recorded today or 4 years ago, Frank McCourt’s words, like his writing, are not easy to forget.

Clash of Consumer Culture

Caldas da Rainha with its 50,000 or so residents is not a huge city. The city itself is known for its hospital and according to wikipedia, its pottery.? In my family it is known as the city where my mother went to high school, and where every year my parents spend the summer.

In the heart of this ancient city, every morning, there is a fruit, vegetable, and pastry market.? Virtually all the food one can buy at the market comes from this region of Portugal, with peaches, plums, pears, cherries and apples among the stars in the fruit department. At the same time, if you drive (and EVERYONE drives) in any direction from the center you will run into a massive big box store or supermarket.? French owned, American owned, Portuguese owned, it becomes hard to keep track of which huge supermarket has just opened up where. Every year when I see a new one I think to myself “they couldn’t possibly need another one”,? only to be confounded the following summer where another field of fruits or vegetables has been converted to a mega supermarket.

Despite the criticism that I could express, that so many have already expressed about the negative impact the big box stores have on communities, I confess I go to both. Perhaps for the convenience, or the choices, or maybe its the price, whatever the case, I divide my food shopping between the morning market of freshness, and the big supermarket of choices. As I do this I notice the type of customers in both: at the morning market an older crowd, many of whom know the venders and seem to have known them for ages, at the big supermarkets its the families, young families with one or two kids trailing behind the overfilled shopping carts.

In many different parts of the world, the phenomenon I’m describing has been a reality for far longer, and as many of you might be thinking – it is not the end of the world. You’re probably right. But as I watch this tiny city and its morning market where people walk from their home to acquire food freshly plucked from the fields around the municipality, and then I look at the big supermarket with its expansive parking lot and its giant aisles filled with stock, I see a difference. It is a difference not only in choice and price, it is a difference of culture.? A culture that was rich and rewarding in ways that perhaps can’t be expressed in financial numbers.

The last thing I wonder is can we ever go back once the big box stores are everywhere, and the last of the elderly buying and selling fruit are gone. Some thought this trend would change with the dawn of the financial crisis, spurring a return of “buying local”.? Yet here we sit, financial crisis in Portugal just as in much of the world, yet this summer they found a spot for yet another giant department store. I already forget what vegetables they used to grow on the field it is built on.

Scandinavian Arctic Path

My good friend and fellow personal publisher Raymond had a post earlier this month on the topic of Norway that caught my attention.? In it he spoke about the melting of the arctic ice, a topic I’ve followed for the past few years, and the strange prospects for Scandinavia when this new northern trade route opens up.? Focusing on the city of Troms? as a potential crossroads for these new routes, Raymond asks:

Could Troms? or another harbour in Northern Norway be the new Rotterdam? Could we see a development in Northern Norway that defies gravity and is as exciting and news-worthy as the development in the capital of Norway? What will happen once ships can safely travel from Europe to Asia through the arctic region?

He also mentions existing and planned sea, rail, and air links between Scandinavia,? Europe, Asia.? As well as the importance of the world’s largest iron ore mine located in Sweden.

While the melting of the arctic is alarming and indeed, steps should be taken to reduce carbon emissions to hopefully slow global warming, it is also interesting to imagine what the future could bring for regions of the world like Northern Norway.? Places that in this day and age are seen as remote or isolated, suddenly becoming connected and significant in so many ways.