Many days and weeks later: Silence of the Lim

I blame it on the hotel suite at the Residence Inn, Marriott and the Office of License Collector in St. Louis. The day I moved into the suite, unpacked my 2 suitcases and began to make myself feel at home, that was the day when I stopped blogging.

It’s like when I saw all my clothes hanging on the wardrobe rack, arranged in the order of warm, formal, work and casual; and the rest folded neatly away in the countless of drawers in the bedroom, I kind of sub-consciously told myself that there is no urgency to pen down my daily journal as religiously as when I was in Washington DC.

Yeah, a bedroom suite with ample of storage space and living out of a suitcase is bad.

Picture above: The St. Louis City Hall

On top of that, living the unaccustomed life-style of a “foreign dignitary” (believe me, I wouldn’t like to be referred to as that but for Michael and Charlotte who insist on calling us that), courtesy of our hosts at the Office of License Collector, has made it impossible for me to keep track of what had happened in the last few weeks. By the time I wanted to blog about something new that had happened on the day before, it had become old news.

At the risk of sounding as if I am having too much of a good time (although I insist on calling them socio-cultural activities), I’m just going to provide a very summarised version of some memorable events that had taken place, or will be taking place:

• Attend the St. Louis Development Corporation (SLDC) luncheon at the Renaissance Hotel;
• Field passes to watch the St. Louis RAMS versus San Diego CHARGES game at the Edward Jones Dome;
• Attend the 100 Black Men masquerade ball at the Hyatt River Front Hotel;
• Attend Sunday service at the Prince of Peace Church;
• Shopping at Macy’s, Saks @ 5th Avenue, the Mills, etc.
• Dining at various local eateries and soul food;
• Attend the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP) gala at the Millennium Hotel;
• VIP seats for America’s Got Talent live show at the Fox Theater;
• Going up the Gateway Arch;
• St. Louis Zoo at Forest Park;
• St. Louis Science Centre;
• Live jazz and blues at BB’s, South Broadway;
• Trip to Jefferson City, capital of Missouri State;
• Trip to Chicago;
• Attend Friday Shabbat at the Temple of Emmanuel;
• Attend the Rally for Sanity, Gateway Arch.
• Halloween with the St. Louis BLUES hockey team against Atlanta THRASHERS at the Scottrade Centre;
• Visiting legendary baseball player Lou Brock at his home; and

the list can go on…..

Wonder whether I do any work or serious stuff at all? Of course, I do. Who am I kidding?

In addition to the countless of meetings with government and elected officials, non-profit and business communities, I have been working with the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) for Eastern-Missouri on their campaign to push for the passing of a State Bill to bring the police from state to local control of what is known as Proposition L (Prop L). A referendum on Prop L will be carried out simultaneously at the mid-term election next Tuesday.

Above: A rally that was held outside the St. Louis City Hall in conjunction with National Day Against Police Brutality on 22 October 2010

Above: Doing some community work with Mission Continues, a non-profit organisation which aims to help former war veterans to find purpose and meaning in their lives again.

And if you think some of these activities are not serious enough, here’s a photo which will prove it.

Standing on the glass floor at the top of the Willis Tower (formerly known as Sears Tower), Chicago, has got to be some serious stuff, man!

Anyway, I’ve already got some articles planned for my TMI column. Do watch out for that.

 

 

 

 

 

Photo on the left, courtesy of CW Lim.

Casting the Talibans away

Since my previous post, Afghanistan has seen another huge assault on their struggle towards democracy. With the Presidential elections two days away, the Taliban has fortified their determination to destabilize peace and security by instilling fear amongst those who hope to see a reformed government that was filled with corruption and abuse of power.

Having worked for the first Presidential election five years ago, it saddens me to feel as if nothing has changed. In fact, it would seem as if things have gone from bad to worse. Security has never been as fragile as now.

With more than 50 people wounded and 7 dead from the suicide bombing near the city of Kabul today, it’s hard to see any glimmer of hope for the people of Afghanistan. The BBC has reported on the widespread of violence in other other parts of the country on the same day.

The series of attacks and intimidation suffered by the Afghans may very well deter them from casting their ballots come Thursday. Will this then prove that the Taliban has won the war? It would, if this is precisely what will happen on polling day.

Having thought a bit about this, perhaps there is a silver lining somewhere along the assaults that have been carried out to injure the very spirit and essence of the Afghans. Would it be too presumptuous for me to think that the Taliban has increased their effort to reassert their authorities because they are finally being challenged by the very people they seek to control?

There is no denying that over the past few years, there is some sort of improvement in terms of human rights awareness amongst the Afghans, although many people would like to argue otherwise.

Sure, there are many things that are left to be desired; women’s rights, rule of law, freedom of expression and a government that is based on the principles of integrity and transparency.

However, if compared to five years ago, more and more Afghan women are starting to get back into the workforce although it is mainly in the cities only. The governor of Bamyan is a woman, the Chairperson of the Afghan Independence Human Rights Commission is also a woman and if I’m not mistaken, some women have also begun to learn how to drive.

Five years ago, there were no women candidates for the Presidential election. This year, there are two. Five years ago, there were 16 candidates but this year, 40.

Again, many would question the validity of these candidates but it doesn’t change the fact that there is an increasing space for democracy. I’ve read that presidential debates have been carried out and broadcasted live on Afghan television. I’ve read postings of local news and discussions by Afghan friends on Facebook and clearly see that there is a great shift from passive to being activists when it comes to the welfare of their country.

Five years ago, I worked with fellow Afghans who were local staff working for the UN. Last year, I know of one who has gone on to work in Sudan as an international staff and another who is travelling to Europe for his work with an international organization in Afghanistan. Not too long ago, it would be difficult to find an Afghan travelling abroad unless they are refugees, immigrants or those granted with political asylum.

I also know many of those who have remained in Afghanistan but continue to work courageously and fervently towards rebuilding their beloved country.

There are profound changes in the country no matter how insignificantly they might have appeared.

So perhaps, it’s not too far-fetched for me to assume that the Taliban has good reasons to be concerned. For the Afghans to give up now, it would greatly reduce their chance in winning the war against the Taliban.

As mentioned on my previous post, every Afghan has the power to change their country through the ballot box. It’s through this fundamental right that citizens have freed themselves from incompetent and abusive governments. It’s through this that a first African American was elected as the President of the United States.

Many good Afghans have died so that others can have the right to vote. Throwing this right away would make their deaths pointless and deny their children a future.

“Impress upon children the truth that the exercise of the elective franchise is a social duty of as solemn a nature as man can be called to perform; that a man may not innocently trifle with his vote; that every elector is a trustee as well for others as himself and that every measure he supports has an important bearing on the interests of others as well as on his own. "

- Daniel Webster

A fable on retribution

As a child, I’ve always enjoyed reading classic short stories by Hans Christian Anderson and fables from La Fontaine or Aesop. These stories are not only interesting and fun but also impart some sort of wisdom or moral lessons which are easy to understand and relate to.

I’ve long forgotten the joy of reading them until I came across one story by Beverly Naidoo in a book I’m currently reading, Lebanon, Lebanon; an anthology of short stories by a panel of world-renowned writers across the world. Since the book is sort of a tribute to the Lebanese people after the Israeli-Lebanon war in 2006, this story managed to capture the essence of how most wars come to being.

I hope I’m not infringing any copyrights law by replicating the story here. All credit must be given to the author. According to the book’s list of contributors, Beverly Naidoo joined the resistance to apartheid as a student in South Africa. After detention without trial she came to England, into exile. Her writings have won many awards including the Carnegie Medal.

THE CROCODILE AND THE STORK

Stork was in mourning. Her black feathers hung like a cloak around her white breast. Crying had made her eyes as blood red as her long beak. But tears could not bring back her babies. She was resolved to have her revenge on Crocodile, who had raided her nest.

“Crocodile shall cry tears like mine,” she vowed.

Everyday she waited for hours in the reeds beside the water. The leg on which she stood was as still as a reed itself. Only in the evening shadows, when hunger made her feel faint, did her beak strike down like an arrow to catch one or two fish. Afterwards, she returned to her mute pose.

From her hiding place she saw where Crocodile hid her eggs in a hole on the riverbank. Patiently Stork waited, day after day, until the young had hatched. Silently she watched Crocodile carry the first baby in her mouth and lower it gently into the water. Stork remained perfectly quiet. As soon as the little crocodile began to swim away from the bank, its mother set off for her nest to collect another. Stork saw her chance and swooped. Lifting the crocodile baby in the cradle of her beak, she flew down the river and dropped it into an empty animal pen at the edge of the village. By the time the baby shrieked, its mother was too far away to hear.

One by one, while Crocodile’s back was turned, Stork captured every one of her twelve babies. When Crocodile realized that they had all disappeared. she screeched with rage and pain. Stork now flew up into a tree above the riverbank.

“Have you seen my children?” Crocodile cried. Giant tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh yes,” Stork replied. “I have taken them.”

“Where are they?” Crocodile roared. “Give them back or I’ll..”

“If you want them back, you will have to bring me seventy fish for each child,” Stork said calmly.

Crocodile gnashed her teeth and whipped her tail but, in the end, it was agreed that the exchange would take place three days later. Crocodile knew that she would have to work night and day to collect enough fish in time.

On the day of the exchange, Crocodile pulled heavy basket of fish upstream towards the appointed place. On the way, she passed some villagers plucking a large bird near a fire. A small gust of wind caught one of the feathers and blew it towards Crocodile. It was a long, black feather. Fear lodged in Crocodile’s throat. She swam closer to the shore, and sure enough, the bird that the villagers were preparing to roast was Stork!

Crocodile wept tears of fury. She knew that she would never see her babies again. With a heavy heart, she turned away, swearing to kill all those who ate the bird that had stolen her babies.