Ripples

My mother requested recently that I keep writing on here, even though my adventures are less worldly these days. I have hesitated, wondering what I have to share. I left with the intent of being able to come home and tell people, show them, that the Middle East is not this scary place of car bombs and terrorists. I wanted to be that person that my friends know so they can say "this friend of mine was actually there and she said ____." I wanted to change some opinions, even if I was only a ripple. Ripples spread you know.

Now that I'm back, I find myself often wary of talking about my travels. I was warned by a friend in Syria who's daughter faced a similar situation when she came to the US originally. She found she became defensive and frustrated with American views of the region, to the point of anger and arguments. I headed his warning, but it is hard. I find myself defensive, passionate, and frustrated but I am trying my best to reign in the anger and deflate the arguments. I want to be that ripple, but I am afraid of the responses that will incite my passions and manifest arguments.

I watched the news with Iman and her mother, and though I little understood the dialog, I understood the videos of dead children in Gaza, killed by bullets, not shrapnel or rocket fire. I watched Syrian men and women weep openly as they watched the death toll rise while the violence continued with no sign of ebbing. One night, about a month after I returned home, I looked up those videos online. I watched one of them over and over, tears on my cheeks, feeling helpless and frustrated. So yes, I'm passionate and probably a little biased. I know, logically, that had I been in Israel and seen images of children killed by a Qassam rocket I'd probably have opposite passions and biases. Perhaps I'd see events differently. But "we see things not as they are, but as we are." I can not change what I see.

I saw an acquaintance a couple of weeks ago for the first time since I returned. She asked where I'd been and I told her. She cracked a smile and said "Cool, did you get bombed?" I was at a loss for how that statement was funny. I hate to admit, but I did a poor job of checking my anger on that one. I'll have to try better in the future. It's tiring sometimes, answering questions that imply such unfounded biases, but I realize that this is exactly what I need to do. Those biases only seem so unfounded to me because I have spent the last couple of years learning about the culture, the history, and the peoples of the Middle East, not even including the months I spent there. I have to try harder, if I want to be that ripple.

So here's to that. I've been planning this whole time to do something with my pictures, not for financial reasons, I'm not looking to become a famous photographer or any such thing but simply to get them seen, to expand the ripple. A picture is worth a thousand words, so they say. I hope to say some with mine. Its time I take this project off the back burner and start dedicating some serious time to it, so here goes. I'll update this site with photo projects as I finish them, or perhaps even as works-in-progress, and updates on my luck/tenacity in getting them shown publicly somehow. Until then, thanks to those who have followed my posts during my trip; it helped, immensely, knowing other people were traveling with me.

Cold Calls

I got a cold call today from the Democratic National Committee, looking for donations. After reading the scripted rant about the failings and vindictiveness of the Republican party (how they ruined the economy are refusing to help fix it because they want to see the Democratic administration fail), I kindly but firmly let them know that they had this whole pitch wrong. First, the call came up as Unavailable; bad idea. Unavailable call asking for my bank account sounds like a scam to me. Second, assuming this wasn't a scam but simply a poorly designed funding campaign, the people who voted for Obama are not likely to want a bi-partisan pitch about how the other side is wrong. We voted for change (yes I know how cliche that has become), we voted for a government that would work together, for an administration that would cross party lines as well as social lines, working with the Republicans and foreign dignitaries rather than against them. Once I corrected the poor man's script, I explained that for these two reasons, I would not be likely to donate money to this campaign for the simple reason that his script outlined exactly the type of government I do not want.

However, I did get some humor out of the conversation. While looking for another page in his script, he attempted to be conversational, asking me "How was the skiing and snowboarding in Bozeman this winter?" My response had myself and a co-worker grinning like fools. "I wouldn't know, as I spent my winter in the Middle East."