Adonis Diaries

Archive for May 2013

List of Monsanto Companies

Last week, over 2 million protested in a single day against the hegemony of Monsanto Companies grabbing (90% of the global market) for modified seeds and the harsh and strict constraints imposed on the poorer peasants in the developing countries.

You may read the suicide belt: https://adonis49.wordpress.com/2013/02/25/the-suicide-belt-in-farming-regions-monsanto-of-genetically-modified-seed-is-the-culprit/

Andrew Bossone shared Fer Andering‘s photo.
Wellicht een idee om eens goed door te nemen....

Arab Women Taking Over The International Tech Scene

Mark Khairallah shared this post by Zeina Tabbara

Zeina Tabbara posted on May 16, 2013: “3 Arab Women Taking Over The International Tech Scene

May 2013 has been a great month for three Arab women: littleBits founder Ayah Bdeir, Wixel Studios partner Reine Abbas and Instabeat founder Hind Hobeika. Internationally, they’re shifting perceptions of women in the startup tech industry.

1. Ayah Bdeir ranked 33 in Fast Company’s list of the “100 Most Creative People In Business 2013” by way of littleBits, the lego-like circuit boards that are a fast-growing phenomena for adults and children alike.

Ayah Bdeir in Fast Company

2. Reine Abbas is one of the five women in Inc. magazine’s recent article, “Meet the 5 Most Powerful Women in Gaming.”

With her partners at the Lebanon-based gaming company Wixel Studios, they are pioneering the creation of highly imaginative, Arabized games such as their recently launched title Survival Race: Life or Power Plants.

Reine Abbas in inc. magazine

3. Hind Hobeika’s swimming device Instabeat attaches to the side of goggles and keeps track of such metrics as heart rate, number of laps and calories.

Two years in the making, Hobeika is revolutionizing the swimming industry and is near to reaching her goal of raising $35,000 via her Indiegogo campaign. TechCrunch’s Editor-At-Large Mike Butcher featured Hind Hobeika and Instabeat in today’s article: “Instabeat Is Revolutionary HUD For Swimming Goggles You Can Back On Indiegogo.”

How sexual harassment is identified?

From a personal perspective, do you think that facts counts when the perception of a sexual harassment persists?

Do circumstantial evidences count if the perception of a sexual harassment lingers?

Facts can be forgotten, and the circumstances of events can be easily distorted, and what remains, as immovable as boulders, are the perception we had retained, correct or wrong.

If None of the conditions apply:

1. No forced sexual harassment

2. No power trip or status symbol was imposed

3. No physical harm was done

4. One party didn’t undress at all

5. No intercourse was contemplated or done

6. No further pressures were exercised for obtaining any kinds of “sex” demand…

7. When one partner said “NO”, the other party obeyed…

Do you think that in this case, claiming sexual harassment applies?

What conditions should be satisfied to classify an occurrence as sexual harassment case?

It sounds rational to believe that a person is not about to forget his “first sexual harassment experience“, and will build all kinds of myths around that experience… and try to almost totally forget who was the initiator (implicitly or explicitly) and what exactly happened…

I tend to believe that our memories are fresher and better with subsequent sex occurrences: What did we know the first time around to remember?

Except later impressions? Particularly if you are very young and inexperienced in the sex matters?

This perception of a sexual harassment encounter is to weight heavier than any other factors when someone claims:” You sexually harassed me”. Supposing that the person is seriously convinced that such an occurrence took place, and not a result of pent up anger.

Perception looms larger than court proceedings or the display of evidences, even pictures and videos.

Yet, do you feel that you should be considered taken hostage just because the other party feels harmed?

Would apologizing for the form of any help to you or the other party?

Would any verbal discussion do any substantial good to relieve the anxiety of both parties?

What has been impressed for years is not about to be erased or substantially altered by a few discussions or other means of communication…

It would be good to forget that such an event and talk have taken place, and go on with your life. It won’t.

Isn’t life more important than a single person hanging on to a perception or an event?

This life of the Absurd, going to great length to inflicting pain and suffering on the others and on ourselves, expecting nothing but more of the absurdities from the living.

It is so absurd that someone must exists after life to make sense of life. Though Never a reincarnation of the same.

 

Not at your service: Palestinian refugees

“Are you enjoying filming our misery? Film: it’s fine, you are like the others. You show up in the camp, film, leave, and we are still here.”

But we want to tell the world about your story… And we reply with the same sarcasm: “how much are you getting paid to tell the world our story?”

Moe Ali Nayel posted on The Electronic Intifada this May 17, 2013 “Palestinian refugees are not at your service”

Throughout my time working as a fixer with international journalists, I never understood why people on the sidewalks of the camps’ busy streets always regarded our “humanitarian” mission with skepticism.

Earlier this year, I came to understand this skepticism of Palestinian refugees in camps in Lebanon.

It was a gloomy day and clouds condensed above Sabra, a shanty town adjacent to Beirut’s Sports City stadium, overlooking the Palestinian refugee camp Shatila. (The camp that experienced the Israeli/Phalange massacreof civilians, mostly women and children, for two nights and two days in 1982.)

We walked through a maze of narrow alleys in Sabra, led by Abdullah, a young Palestinian from Syria, doing relief work for his fellow Palestinian refugees who fled violence in Syria and who were now seeking safety all over Lebanon.

I had been hired as a translator for a human rights professor from Harvard University who was working on a project regarding the situation of Palestinian refugees from Syria who have fled to Jordan and Lebanon.

Walking through the dim damp alleyways of Sabra, Abdullah led the way. The Harvard professor and her two students were heading to meet a Palestinian refugee from Syria who had agreed to meet us.

Scene of alley in Shatila refugee camp

Palestinian refugees have seen little benefit from the many researchers who have visited their camps. (Mohammed Asad / APA images)

“We are not here to talk about her son”

“We are going to meet a woman from Yarmouk,” said Abdullah, referring to the Palestinian refugee community near the Syrian capital. “She fled two weeks ago with her injured son who needs urgent medical care. I hope you’ll be able to aid the poor woman.” Abdullah grabbed my elbow, encouraging me to make sure I translated his announcement to the Harvard team.

At the end of a narrow alleyway we stopped at a pile of shoes by the steps of a small apartment; the heap of shoes indicated the many people who were inside. While we added our shoes to the pile the professor and her students murmured: “We are not here to talk about her son, we just want to ask about her experience fleeing from Syria to Beirut.”

And: “fine let’s just give her a quick five minutes to talk about her son and we’ll move on.” The professor decided on the matter and looked at me as to include me in this decision since I was the translator and would be introducing the team and mediating the interview.

Crammed into the tiny apartment of Mariam, a Palestinian refugee who was sheltering two families from Yarmouk, we all sat and sipped on Turkish coffee waiting for Um Muhammad.

Cigarettes were lit, breaking an awkward silence, but when the Harvard team coughed and complained the cigarettes were politely put out.

The silence was broken by Um Muhammad who came rushing in, apologizing for being late, trying to catch her breath while thanking us extensively for the great humanitarian work she thought we were doing: “God bless you and may he give you strength for the charitable work you are doing.”

Introductions and shy small talk were made, while in the background the professor set the scene for her trainees. Questioning would go in turns and each woman carried her list of already prepared questions, the kind used in human rights classrooms.

It became clear to me that the Harvard team led by the professor were here to conduct training sessions on how to document human rights violations in the Middle East. Palestinian refugees fleeing Syria as a training topic.

Um Muhammad, a woman in her late 40s, covered her head with a beige scarf and wore an ankle-length burgundy trench coat. A mother of four, she was born in Beirut’s Burj al-Barajneh camp. She fled to Yarmouk camp in Syria during the 1980s when, as she puts it, “being a Palestinian was enough to get a person in trouble.”

Human rights kit

Um Muhammad smiled politely, trying to hide her agony, and her eyes betrayed the distress and lack of sleep. In mid-December while her youngest son was playing with his friends next to their school in Yarmouk, the Syrian regime’s MiG fighter jets dropped bombs a few meters away from them, she said. A piece of shrapnel hit the 14-year-old boy on his head.

Um Muhammad rushed her son to a government hospital in Damascus: “they wanted me to sign a paper stating that my son was injured by the terrorists but I refused and told them the terrorists don’t have MiGs. Instead I grabbed him and went running to a field hospital in Yarmouk but they were only able to clean his wound and couldn’t perform surgery.”

“I brought him to Lebanon and I have been running around trying to find anyone who can pay for his surgery or treat him,” she added. “But it’s the same response I keep getting, from UNRWA [the UN agency for Palestine refugees] and the political factions in the camps from Fatah to Hamas: ‘we don’t have funds.’

It’s been almost one month since his injury. Pieces of shrapnel are still stuck inside his skull, his health is deteriorating each day; now, he’s starting to lose his speech.”

A Harvard student in her early 20s with a stern manner, ready to take her human rights course from theory to practice, sat opposite Um Muhammad. Her human rights kit was out: a long list of questions laid out, voice recorder turned on and set on the coffee table, different color markers deployed, a bundle of papers next to us on the couch.

The student organized her tools, gave a nod to the professor and the round of human rights questioning started. Her quick-fire questions started with the basics: name, age, marital status, number of children and place of residency in Syria. Human rights documentation training was now in action.

I was told that for accuracy purposes questions need to be repeated more than once to see whether people are telling the truth:

Why did you come to Lebanon?

How long did it take you from your house to the border?

Try to remember exactly how long the trip took you.

How did you get to the border? Did you take a taxi, a car, or a bus? What kind of car? How much did you pay?

Who paid your visa fees to Lebanon?

Where did you get the money from?

Um Muhammad answered and re-answered but she was trying hard to recall details as her mind was not in full focus on her experience while fleeing.

“Try to remember”

“Tell us how long it took you to get from Yarmouk to the hospital the day your son got injured,” one said.

Um Muhammad struggled to be exact as she replied, “The hospital was not far and there were Syrian army checkpoints on the way but they let us pass, so it took us between 20 to 30 minutes.”

“Tell us exactly how long it took you,” the trainee insisted, keen on the minutiae for her records. “Was it 20 or 30 minutes? Try to remember, and how long you waited at the checkpoint. Five minutes? Ten minutes? Try to remember.”

As this routine continued, Um Muhammad’s answers became more vague and troubled, the students desperate for details. I was told to translate that they were from Harvard and they are here to document her experience so it was important for her to remember.

After a two-hour marathon of questions, Um Muhammad shot me looks of astonishment throughout, as if her words were not credible enough for them. As she was made to repeat her answers over and over, she sighed and went on. At one point, answering politely, but tired of the tirade of questions, Um Muhammad lit a cigarette and told me “I cannot remember those minute details ya khalti,” addressing me as an aunt would a nephew.

Smoking ban

“Please tell her to put out her cigarette.” Um Muhammad didn’t need me to translate this one, she instantly noticed the grimaced looks.

The persistent human rights student, here only to conduct her by-the-book interview in the presence of her evaluating professor, continued with her tiring and condescending questioning.

“Tell us: when you got to the Lebanese border crossing how did you know which window you had to go to.”

“There was a window for Lebanese travelers, a window for Syrians, and a window for foreigners this was the one where Palestinians were getting entry permits,” she replied.

“But how did you know this particular window was for Palestinians?”

“It was not the first time I came to Lebanon — I already told you that I was born here and one of my daughters lives here so we visit Lebanon often.”

“When you are at the Lebanese border crossing how do you figure out which window to go to? Was there a sign you read? What did the sign say?”

Um Muhammad looked at me, confused.

“You can’t just talk to her”

The conduct of the student was neither easy nor graceful, papers were shuffled, questions fired. Um Muhammad answered and re-answered in the hope of getting to the part that she came for: to tell her story and find aid for her injured son.

Um Muhammad’s growing frustration became hard to miss: she grabbed at her pack of cigarettes then let go, smiling at us as she remembered that she couldn’t smoke.

Finally, losing her polite manner, she interjected: “I want to talk about my son. I need to tell you the story I’m here for.” She was cut short as her host Mariam arrived with another round of coffee.

Here I took my chance, while the coffee was being served, to tell Um Muhammad about a doctor I know from Ein al-Hilweh refugee camp, a reputable orthopediatrician who I thought Um Muhammad should go to, who treats people for no charge.

The human rights trainee, who couldn’t understand our Arabic and seemed to feel as if she was being excluded, suddenly snapped: “What’s going on? You can’t just talk to her without telling me. What are you talking to her about? I need to know everything that is being said,” interrupting my conversation with Um Muhammad. Further awkwardness filled the air in the room.

Not what they came for

By now, Um Muhammad had lost any remaining patience after three hours of questioning.

Can I talk about my son now?” The question hung in the air, followed by silence and uncertainty from the Harvard team.

It was decided that to bypass her story they would give her “five minutes to tell her son’s story quickly and move on to questions.”

As Um Muhammad told a story of humiliation and anguish, we listened and nodded. My precise translation here seemed unnecessary: I was told to sum it up. This was not what we came for.

No one came to help any one here, it seemed, this was just a professor training her students, the picture now clear for all. Once Um Muhammad’s story was done and she had noticed that the team were not interested, she leaned forward and asked how we could help. The students kept silent, looking at their professor to rescue the awkwardness left by their disconcerted silence.

The professor spoke: “We will include your son’s story in part of the study we are doing, and it will be published by Harvard.” Then, the professor asked me to tell anxious Um Muhammad that Harvard is an important university and when the report was published many people would read it.

Um Muhammad politely smiled, grabbed her bag, looked at me and said: “That’s it?” Her disappointed face was hard to ignore, although she kept smiling and asked: do they still want to ask anything? Yes, there were more questions now that her son’s story was told, came their reply.

The refugee dilemma

After two more questions, a weary Um Muhammad began fidgeting in her seat shaking her legs nervously; she answered with a defeated tone while grabbing her handbag, positioning herself to get up and leave.

The rookie eyes of the Harvard students didn’t notice her signals of departure. I asked Um Muhammad to get going and she asked me if there is “anything at all that these girls can do to help my son.” I apologized and told her not to waste her time with them.

This has been the Palestinian refugees’ dilemma since 1948: watching groups of people from across the globe stroll through the misery of their camps and and then leave. Making their personal plight and stories available to writers and advocates is for them a way to induce change and action and to advance their moral cause around the world.

But humanity is the key here. To tell stories and conduct research, one would do well to remember that refugees deserve our sensitivity when dealing with their hardships.

It’s been 65 years and Palestinians in the camps are still clutching onto whatever crumbs of hope or aid they can. But ultimately they are left awaiting the day they can return to the place where their dignity and humanity can be restored: Palestine.

Moe Ali Nayel is a freelance journalist based in Beirut, Lebanon. Follow him on Twitter: @MoeAliN

 

Child brides in Yemen. Take a look and read the interview

Every day around the world, around 39,000 girls – children like Tahani and Ghada – get married

Tahani got married when she was six and was a wife in the full sense of the word. She had not reached puberty so hadn’t had kids yet, but this was expected as soon as she was able to.

Ghada is the sister of Tahani’s husband, Majed. She was still living with her family, though, and attending school, since her father felt she was too young to live with her husband.

 interviewed Stephanie Sainclair in The Guardian this May 22, 2013:

I have been to many countries to document the issue of child brides: India, Nepal, Afghanistan, Ethiopia.

It was important to cover Yemen because it is so prevalent there – in fact, it is considered normal. Some people in their communities, however, want it to stop, and this project was only able to happen because of them.

This shot shows two child brides in rural Yemen with their husbands. Tahani, the girl in pink, is eight; her husband Majed is 27. Ghada, in green, is also eight, while her husband Saltan is 33.

Stephanie Sinclair's photograph of child brides in Yemen View larger picture

‘The image works because the girls opened up to me’ … Stephanie Sinclair’s photograph of child brides in Yemen. Click to enlarge

I met the child wives twice in 2010, when I was in the country for National Geographic.

The first time they were without their husbands: they were just little girls, sweet and forthcoming, and  excited. I was there and wanting to hang out. I decided to shoot two couples to show that this huge age disparity wasn’t a one-off.

Both of the men are in the Yemeni military and were working, so I had to wait for them to return.

When I finally met them, it was noon and the light was really bad. I scoped out the location, then waited until it got very overcast. I moved them around a little and took 50 frames in 15 minutes. They were all amenable.

I didn’t tell either girl what expression to have. I don’t think they had any idea that the rest of the world would see their marriages as wrong – but somehow I felt they knew that I was there out of concern.

The image works because the girls opened up to me: Tahani, especially, has a look in her eyes. They are communicating to us in a different way than their husbands, who clearly feel no shame.

Looking at it, you know at once that the men are their husbands and not their fathers.

My visit started a campaign: we got a local doctor and midwives to come and discuss health issues for girls…

That if they get pregnant too young, their bodies and their children may have problems. They may even die. The community agreed to stop the next wedding.

Stephanie Sinclair’s work is at tooyoungtowed.org (Too Young to Wed campaign)

Born: 1973, Miami.

Studied: Journalism with photography at the University of Florida.

Influences: Eugene Richards: his work has an intimacy and brilliance that is beyond compare.

High point: Being part of the Too Young to Wed campaign, which policymakers around the world are responding to.

Low point: The colleagues I’ve lost over the years in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya.

Top tip: Be versatile. Listen to your heart about what you respond to and make projects that matter to you.

 

Sovereign Nations Walk Out of Meeting With U.S. State Department

The State Department, still with “egg on its face” from its statement that Keystone XL would have little impact on climate change, sunk a little lower today as the most respected elders, and chiefs of 10 sovereign nations turned their backs on State Department representatives and walked out during a meeting.

The meeting, which was a failed attempt at a “nation to nation” tribal consultation concerning the Keystone XL Pipeline neglected to address any legitimate concerns being raised by First Nations Leaders (or leading scientific experts for that matter).

Jacob Devaney published in The Blog this May 17, 2013:

Climate Science Watch, The EPA and most people with common sense rebuked the State Department’s initial report and today First Nations sent a very clear message to President Obama and the world concerning the future fate of their land regarding Keystone XL.

Vice president for conservation policy at the National Wildlife Federation Jim Lyon said of the department’s original analysis that it “fails in its review of climate impacts, threats to endangered wildlife like whooping cranes and woodland caribou, and the concerns of tribal communities.”

Today tribal nations added probably the most critical danger of the pipeline which is to the water. Their statement is below:

On this historic day of May 16, 2013, ten sovereign Indigenous nations maintain that the proposed TransCanada/Keystone XL pipeline does not serve the national interest and in fact would be detrimental not only to the collected sovereigns but all future generations on planet earth. This morning the following sovereigns informed the Department of State Tribal Consultation effort at the Hilton Garden Inn in Rapid City, SD, that the gathering was not recognized as a valid consultation on a “nation to nation” level: Southern Ponca Pawnee Nation Nez Perce Nation, Oceti Sakowin (Seven Council Fires People), Sisseton-Wahpeton Oyate Ihanktonwan Dakota (Yankton Sioux), Rosebud Sioux Tribe, Oglala Sioux Tribe, Standing Rock Tribe, Lower Brule Sioux Tribe, Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe, and Crow Creek Sioux Tribe

The Great Plains Tribal Chairmans Association supports this position, which is in solidarity with elected leaders, Treaty Councils and the grassroots community, and is guided by spiritual leaders.

On Saturday, May 18, the Sacred Pipe Bundle of the Oceti Sakowin will be brought out to pray with the people to stop the KXL pipeline, and other tribal nation prayer circles will gather to do the same.

Pursuant to Executive Order 13175, the above sovereigns directed the DOS to invite President Obama to engage in “true Nation to Nation” consultation with them at the nearest date, at a designated location to be communicated by each of the above sovereigns.

After delivering that message, the large contingent of tribal people walked out of the DOS meeting and asked the other tribal people present to support this effort and to leave the meeting.

Eventually all remaining tribal representatives and Tribal Historic Preservation Officers left the meeting at the direct urging of the grassroots organization Owe Aku. Owe Aku, Moccasins on the Ground, and Protect the Sacred are preparing communities to resist the Keystone XL pipeline through Keystone Blockade Training.

This unprecedented unity of tribes against the desecration of Ina Maka (Mother Earth) was motivated by the signing on January 25, 2013, of the historic International Treaty to Protect the Sacred Against the Tar Sands. Signatories were the Pawnee Nation, the Ponca Nation, the Ihanktonwan Dakota and the Oglala Lakota. Since then ten First Nations Chiefs in Canada have signed the Treaty to protect themselves against tar sands development in Canada.

The above sovereigns notify President Obama to consult with each of them because of the following:

The nations have had no direct role in identifying and evaluating cultural resources.

The nations question the status of the programmatic agreement and how it may or may not be amended.

The nations are deeply concerned about potential pipeline impacts on natural resources, especially our water: potential spills and leaks, groundwater and surface water contamination.

The nations have no desire to contribute to climate change, to which the pipeline will directly contribute.

The nations recognize that the pipeline will increase environmental injustice, disproportionately impacting native communities.

The nations deplore the environmental impacts of tar sands mining being endured by tribes in Canada. The pipeline would service the tar sands extractive industry.

The nations insist that their treaty rights be respected⎯the pipeline would violate them.

The nations support an energy policy that promotes renewables and efficiency instead of one that features fossil fuels.

The nations regard the consultation process as flawed in favor of corporate interests.

The sovereigns of these nations contend that it is not in America’s interest to facilitate and contribute to environmental devastation on the scale caused by the extraction of tar sands in Canada.

America would be better served by a comprehensive program to reduce its reliance on oil, and to invest in the development and deployment of sustainable energy technologies, such as electric vehicles that are charged using solar and wind power.

If the Keystone XL pipeline is allowed to be built, TransCanada, a Canadian corporation, would be occupying sacred treaty lands as reserved in the 1851 and 1868 Fort Laramie Treaties. It will be stopped by unified resistance.

To sanctify their solidarity with The Lubicon Lake First Nation of Canada, who are the traditional stewards of the land that 70% of the tar sands oil sit on, along with tribes across Canada and The United States, Chief Arvol Lookinghorse has called for a day of prayer everywhere on May 18, 2013. Chief Lookinghorse, The 19th Generation Keeper of The Sacred White Buffalo Bundle, has stated,

“I am asking ‘All Nations, All Faiths, One Prayer’ to help us during this time of this gathering by praying with us on this day wherever you are upon Mother Earth. We need to stop the desecration that is hurting Mother Earth and the communities. These recent spills of oil are affecting the blood of Mother Earth; Mni wic’oni (water of life).”

Gatherings are being planned all over the world in solidarity during the weekend including one outside the UN at Isaiah’s Wall in NYC today, May 17th at noon EST.

We all know that we are living in unprecedented times.

We just surpassed 400ppm CO2 in the atmosphere for the first time in 10 million years, the planet is warming and we humans must bear the responsibility of our actions and their effects on the environment.

What we do, and what we don’t do will effect the generations to follow. A better world is possible.

Note: On May 23, the US House voted and passed the Keystone XL Pipeline. US short history repeats itself: No sovereign State or any independent power is to stand in the interest of the financial oligarchy.

Dehydration? Resulting from catching a most resilient bacteria in the hospital?

Diary. Sunday, April 21, 2013

I woke up at 8 am. Mother (85 year-old) is already working since 6 am: doing dishes, cooking, sweeping, vacuuming in order to wake me up…

Yesterday was a hectic day: We sent dad to the hospital, and he ended in the intensive care by 5 pm.

Last night, I watched the old TV movie Boxcart Bertha, set during the US great depression of 1930.  The syndicates of workers are virulent and the institutions are disseminating the notion that the syndicates are Communist inspired plot, and sold out to Stalin Soviet Union.

Initially, the confrontations are physical and no live ammunitions are used against the demonstrators and strikers.

The situation deteriorates and companies start hiring armed private security, militias and mercenaries to tame the demonstrators.

The syndicated Shelly is nailed on a boxcart as Jesus was nailed on the cross…

My father is back to the intensive care unit, after residing at home for a month and slowly improving and walking on his own.

Last month, father got afflicted with pneumonia and bronchitis and his lungs have shriveled and are shot: He was a heavy smoker for over 70 years.

Father was making good progress and occasionally walking without the walker, and getting up 5 times in the night to fix himself sandwiches of jam, labneh… And emptying a bagful of candies (bonbons).

We were unable to sleep at night, fearing that he might fall as he did previously and get injured.

Mother refused to sleep in another room, just to have an eye on him.

Suddenly, at 5 am on Saturday, father started terrible and very frequent bouts of vomiting and diarrhea for over 5 hours. I changed his diapers and pajamas 4 times within half a hour, while he was in the restroom and I was completely exhausted and dejected.

I could not fathom how he accumulated so much water in his stomach. It was very warm, but father was shivering in his bed.

I called up the Red Cross of Kornet Chehwan: I initially thought it was merely a matter of dehydration and some plasma in the hospital would do by the end of the day.

We were lucky: The Red Cross sent us a team from the town of Bolonia very quickly, and we dispatched father to the hospital of Bhaness. The  Red Cross volunteers at the branch in Cornet Chehwan (mostly of university students) does not open during the day: It opens at 5:30 pm till 6 am. This branch already knows our address and mother visited the center for 2 months to change the wrapping of her 3rd degree burned arm…

It turned out that father has caught a most resilient bacteria that nested in the lungs during his last stay at the hospital last month. Does such a bacteria needs 30 days of gestation (incubation) before it hits full-blown and so suddenly?

After 3 hours in the emergency section for blood testing and other kinds of tests, a duration that any patient might die before receiving any kinds of prevention cure, father was sent to a room and plasma attached to his arm.

Initially father received a powerful antibiotics as during his last stay: His white blood counts was over 2,300, way above the normal 1,000.

By 5 pm, father was asphyxiating and barely could breath. Luckily, I was by his bed and noticed that he tried to sit in order to breath and his face darkened. I buzzed the emergency red button and began slapping his face and initiating chest-press technique, and was about to take out his tongue when the nurse emerged and looked dazzled and horrified.

The neighboring patient and his daughter were horrified and feeling helpless. The next patient had his urinary tract removed after 6 hours of surgery and a bag attached on his side in order to empty urine. This patient told me stoically that this was for the better: he had to go to the restroom every 10 minutes…

The physician reanimated father and ordered that he be sent to intensive unit.

The physician told me that father caught a most resilient bacteria from his previous 3-week stay in the hospital and that the most “powerful set” of antibiotics were injected, the most powerful arsenal available in the hospital…

Resilient bacteria are most likely inherited from residing in hospital: They accumulate and adhere to equipment, tubes and tools in the hospitals.

On this Sunday, the day after father was sent to hospital, I exercised, fed the chicken under the rain, cooked whatever mother has already started, shaved and dressed up. The odds that I might receive visits is very dim: The frequency of occurrences of guests paying me visit tells a long story.

Mother drove with my sister to church and would visit dad on her way back.

The visiting hours for patients in intensive care are from 11 to noon, and from 4 to 5 pm.

I was relieved that father is intensive care: Mother would have decided to sleep in the same room if he were not in intensive care unit.

Last evening, many came to visit father: Jihad and his wife Nada, Jean and his wife Joelle, Nassif…

My sister told me that all these cousins will meet for lunch somewhere on Sunday. Patrick is to arrive from France at night.

My niece Joanna called from London around 11 am and I told her to chat with mother around 7 pm as she might be back from the hospital.

Mother feels depressed, particularly in the evening: She is worried of what to do with dad when he returns from the hospital…

We had a bad month and this time around is going to be even a worse case of caring for dad.

Most patients who die after surgery is the consequence of catching resilient infection from the hospital.  Million die every year due to hospital infected environment.

Note: Dad stayed a week in intensive care without any anesthetic, and a week in a room. For an entire week, the nurses didn’t try to take dad for a short walk, fearing shortness of oxygen…

On Monday at 1 pm, the hospital called me and informed me that dad should be removed from the hospital. That was a very quick decision and took us all by surprise… I told the nurse that dad should at least be taken for a walk in order to check on his condition.  Two hours later, the nurse calls me and said that they took dad for a short walk and removed the mill… and that they didn’t administer him any antibiotics in the last three days (he is covered from infection), and that his blood test is good… And that dad cannot remain in the hospital. The nurse said  “It is better for him not to catch any infection while overstaying in the hospital“, but this was not convincing.

I later learned that my brother Ghassan (a dentist) visited dad at noon and got pretty upset because the nurses never attempted to walk my dad. I guess the physician got upset also from this outburst and signed on the exit papers

Tunisia’s Topless jihad’ activist: Amina Tyler

After months of reportedly going into hiding, the outspoken Tunisian feminist who sparked a trend of “topless jihad” has been found and arrested by Tunisian authorities earlier this week.  Amina Tyler, Tunisia’s ‘topless jihad’ activist, may be charged for conducting “provocative acts.”

Amina Tyler, 19, was found in the midst of police scuffles with hardline Salafist group Ansar al-Shariah in the central Tunisian city of Kairouan on Sunday.

Tyler previously described herself as a member of the Ukrainian feminist group Femen, which uses nudity in protests.

Al Arabiya with The Associated Press posted this may 21, 2013:

Witnesses saidAmina allegedly scrawled “Femen” on the wall near the main mosque and may have intended to hang a banner on the building before an angry crowd gathered and started shouting at her to leave, according to The Associated Press.


Amina Tyler, 19, was found in the midst of police scuffles with hardline Salafist group Ansar al-Shariah. (Photo via Femen France on Facebook)

Video posted by the Tunisian online Nawaat news site shows Tyler, with dyed blonde hair, clutching a banner and being hustled away by police and put into a van as residents chased her.

A local resident shouts at the camera: “She is dishonoring us. We will protect our town. A dirty girl like her shouldn’t come among us.

Mohammed Ali Aroui, the spokesman for the Tunisian interior ministry, described Amina’s acts as provocative and said she was under investigation and may be charged for her behavior on Sunday. He added that he understood the angry reaction of local residents to her appearance.

The ministry had banned Ansar al-Shariah’s annual conference, citing it as a threat to security and public order, and sent 11,000 soldiers and police to prevent hardline Muslims, known as salafis, from entering Kairouan.

In March, Tyler posted pictures of her topless body with the phrase “my body is my own” scrawled on it. She went into hiding after receiving death threats. Her family took her to stay with relatives outside the capital before she escaped and hid with friends.

A month later, Tyler had been trying to leave Tunisia, her former lawyer said after a video surfaced in which the woman recounted being drugged and given virginity tests by relatives.

“Free Amina” rallies held by bare-breasted Femen activists hit Paris last month as Tyler’s supporters feared she would soon face criminal prosecution.

(Tunisia is currently battling the armed factions of the salafi Wahhabi extremists linked to Al Qaeda ideology who fled from north Mali after the French counteroffensive 5 months ago).

Note 1: A couple of years ago, the 18 year-old Egyptian Aliaa posted her naked body on the internet. She is currently residing in Sweden and continuing her education in movies. She posed naked in front of the Egyptian Embassy in Paris with two other Femen activists .

Note 2: The battle lines are now drawn between the 3 Sunni sects( under the Moslem Brotherhood umbrella) and the Wahhabi Sunni extremists who are funded and supported by the absolute Saudi Monarchy. The Sunni sects in each Arabic country are characterized as a main national identity of the State, such as the “Arabic” north African States, the Nile River States (Egypt, Sudan and Libya) and the Shaam States (Syria, Palestine, Iraq, and Lebanon)

We are born to play, to be playful…

All research in the animal kingdom demonstrate that animal learn to survive by playing among the members of their family, and games is the main medium for learning anything worth learning in life.

For years, we played in childhood. Playing has become our second nature.

We effectively learned what feels  good and what feels bad by playing, and what we are good at…

We played games in nature, we hided, we climbed, we fought, we ran, we shifted in the hierarchy of kids… We barely had time to daydream. we slept very soundly, and we didn’t worry that much about the next day…

We hated and reconciled in the same day.

We played, and we grew up in plays, and that was very serious stuff, and we bonded with kids and animals with simple words, simple emotions… Only to revert to the easiest of inclined paths at the first occasion…

You are now a matured person and we are told:

“Time to grow up. Time to shoulder your responsibilities, to earn a living, to behave as adults should…”

Easy said.

And we start bringing in and creating troubles, just to stay in the games.

It is hard to be ejected from a team, for being casted out, for one reason or another…

Somehow, to survive we manage to construct a set of daily routines, a routine that changes with turning point situations… Only to revert to the easy enclines

We are transitory, and yet, we manage to figure out the most damage to impact on nature and the environment.

We are supposed to be the figure sticks in nature’s background. And yet, we sincerely believe we are the master on this earth…

And we realize that life is a bitter caldron, and the older the more bitter. Life should have not be that hard to live. Just hard to die of old age…

Feeling uncared for, unappreciated… and we are ready to bring in external factors into the picture, in order to find reasons for our unhappiness…

We start building pyramids of abstract notions that have nothing to do with our survival skills and our community bonding…

How our mind grew obtuse and distorted?

I cannot claim that our current life-style of playing indoors and isolated in front of screens is the main factor for the ruin of our natural environment: Two centuries ago, kids played outdoors and in harmony with nature and animals, but this behavior didn’t prevent man’s onslaught against nature


adonis49

adonis49

adonis49

May 2013
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