Spring Semester 2011

For those who want to know what I am doing this semester, I will be editor of Under the Microscope, an weekly 8-minute radio show on science, health and technology (http://www.kbia.org/archive/news/health-science-technology). I will also be working for Discovery Tech, although I do not yet have the details of how that will work. Finally, I will be creating a Website where Mizzou study abroad students can contribute their stories from around the world. I will post a link when the site is up and running. That's about all for now. The first couple days of classes are going fairly smoothly, and I am gearing up for the sprint toward the finish line (i.e. my graduation in May).

Wiki Leaks Afghan War Diary

The leak of over 91,000 reports about the War in Afghanistan on wikileaks.org will certainly change the world of information gathering and classified documentation.

Wikileaks.org, a Web site that publishes classified documents and reports with the promise that they will protect the source, leaked Sunday around 91,000 reports on the Afghan war. The reports came from people aligned with Afghan officials and military personnel according to reports from the Guardian, The New York Times and Der Speigel, the three major news outlets that first reported on the leaks.

Time will tell whether the information in the reports will change public opinion about Afghanistan and the outcome of the war. But what the information does prove is a drastic change in the way we handle what was once seen as untouchable information. Prior to the development of wikileaks, which began in January 2007, there was a vast sea of documents that were considered "off-limits" or "confidential." Wikileaks changes all that. If Wikileaks can make its way through this major ordeal and defend its right to the information successfully, this will break all boundaries of what information should and can be accessible to the public. If it cannot defend itself, regulation will only become tighter and censorship could be used more often when describing why we don't know everything we would like about the government's or other organizations' activities.

Much speculation has been circulating this Web site for some time now. On the "About Us" section on the Wikileak Web site, a quote from Time Magazine says, "... could become as important a journalistic tool as the Freedom of Information Act."

Philip Shenon, a writer for The New York Times was quoted on NPR last week saying, "You certainly hear at the Pentagon, at the White House, concern that one of these days somebody is going to leak something really important to an organization like Wikileaks. The example given to me is American nuclear secrets or the whereabouts of Osama bin Laden. Would Wikileaks put that out to the world without much filtering, and isn't there a threat in that?"

Personal Opinion

As I said above, time will tell the ultimate outcome of this development and it will be up to how Wikileaks, the White House and the mainstream media handle this situation that determines whether Wikileaks gets the fame it has been vying for for three years or falls short of journalistic excellence and reaches the level of Tweeted headlines and untrusted Wikipedia pages.

Most likely, it will end up somewhere in the middle. People will go to the site for basic information, much like they do for Wikipedia. However, this site must continue to be monitored closely because whenever the public is given information, it will undoubtably make some more informed but others it will give the impetus they wanted to make outlandish accusations.

While people often read Wikipedia as a major source of information, I do not believe people visiting Wikileaks will take it as it is. Because Wikileaks is set up as a research site, it will be used as just that, one of many sources for in depth research. All that is certain is this, over the next few weeks and months, a lot of people are going to have a lot of work on their hands.

Amsterdam: The City of Juxtapositions

This was the city known for three things: drugs, prostitution, and Anne Frank. Perhaps you never thought you would see those three words in a sentence together. This odd juxtaposition of history and modern taboo is the epitome of Amsterdam.

When you walk down narrow streets that in the U.S. would automatically be classified as alleyways, you smell the stench of marijuana filling the air. It comes out of “coffee shops,” which, as the story goes, were the first ones to sell coffee—another substance that was considered dangerous and, for a time, illegal because of the effects of caffeine. Of course, the weed is not only smelt, but seen. The smoke seeps out of the shops each time the door is opened, and it is not uncommon to see someone walking down the streets with one of the “special muffins” or “brownies.”

There is also the ominous red-light district, where prostitutes sit in the windows waiting seemingly nonchalantly for their next customer. Although if you look closely, although I would advise, not too obviously, at their faces, you may perhaps be able to see anxiety on a few faces. Though this again may be the skewed perception of someone who is as close to a humanitarian activist without actually being one.

However, do not get the idea that the red-light district is a secluded area of town. It is, actually, the heart of the town and normally quite crowded, even during the day. And within the ominous red-light district, with prostitute shops next-door, stands the Oude Kerk, an old Catholic turned protestant church, dating back from the twelfth century. There it stands in all its glory, a testament to the religion that has been a practiced for a thousand years in this region.

Then, just over a kilometer away, across three canals, which have given Amsterdam the nickname, the Venice of the north, is the Anne Frank house, where for Anne Frank and her family hid for two years before their arrest.

And while Anne Frank is the most famous of the Jews in Amsterdam, many still remain. Their synagogues and a famous Jewish museum can be visited, attesting to historical events and present day traditions.

But don't let Amsterdam's reputation for legalizing drugs or prostitution fool you. If you walk far enough down one of these "alleys," you will walk out into one of the main streets that are more for bicycles than cars. In fact, there are separate lanes of the bikes, and one must be careful, lest he accidentally step in front of a bicyclist, who are not out to be considerate to pedestrians. A word of advice: if you hear a bell ringing behind you, move.

In the middle of these streets, like large medians, flow the Amsterdam canals. In fact, one of the most eerily beautiful things about Amsterdam is waking up on a morning when the fog sits bodingly on the canals, enveloping the city, as though it holds vast secrets of sins of the night before and heroism of years past.

This was the city known for three things: drugs, prostitution, and Anne Frank. Perhaps you never thought you would see those three words in a sentence together. This odd juxtaposition of history and modern taboo is the epitome of Amsterdam.

When you walk down narrow streets that in the U.S. would automatically be classified as alleyways, you smell the stench of marijuana filling the air. It comes out of “coffee shops,” which, as the story goes, were the first ones to sell coffee—another substance that was considered dangerous and, for a time, illegal because of the effects of caffeine. Of course, the weed is not only smelt, but seen. The smoke seeps out of the shops each time the door is opened, and it is not uncommon to see someone walking down the streets with one of the “special muffins” or “brownies.”

There is also the ominous red-light district, where prostitutes sit in the windows waiting seemingly nonchalantly for their next customer. Although if you look closely, although I would advise, not too obviously, at their faces, you may perhaps be able to see anxiety on a few faces. Though this again may be the skewed perception of someone who is as close to a humanitarian activist without actually being one.

However, do not get the idea that the red-light district is a secluded area of town. It is, actually, the heart of the town and normally quite crowded, even during the day. And within the ominous red-light district, with prostitute shops next-door, stands the Oude Kerk, an old Catholic turned protestant church, dating back from the twelfth century. There it stands in all its glory, a testament to the religion that has been a practiced for a thousand years in this region.

Then, just over a kilometer away, across three canals, which have given Amsterdam the nickname, the Venice of the north, is the Anne Frank house, where for Anne Frank and her family hid for two years before their arrest.

And while Anne Frank is the most famous of the Jews in Amsterdam, many still remain. Their synagogues and a famous Jewish museum can be visited, attesting to historical events and present day traditions.

But don’t let Amsterdam’s reputation for legalizing drugs or prostitution fool you. If you walk far enough down one of these “alleys,” you will walk out into of the main streets that serve as streets more for bicycles than cars. In fact, there are separate lanes for the bikes, and one must be careful, lest he accidentally step in front of a bicyclist, who are not out to be considerate to pedestrians. A word of advice: if you hear a bell ringing behind you—move.

In the middle of these streets, like large medians, flow the Amsterdam canals. In fact, one of the most eerily beautiful things about Amsterdam is waking up on a morning when the fog sits bodingly on the canals, enveloping the city, as though it holds vast secrets of sins of the night before and heroism of years past.

How I Have Been Mistaken for a French Speaker

This morning, as I walked into work, I finally got the courage to talk a little more to the security guard at the front of our building that I see everyday. He is a smaller, middle-age man with rough, somewhat drawn skin and a longer, pointed nose. Everyday, he, or I, (whoever happens to be first) say bonjour, and the other responds with the same.

Today, however, I ventured out on a limb with my French, or lack thereof. “Bonjour,” I said when I walked in. “Ça va?” And the rest of the conversation only God and the guard know…because I certainly don’t. As soon as the words, “ça va” came out of my mouth, I was greeted with a reply that I could not comprehend. All I know is I somehow managed in response to what I guess was his question of “I’m fine how are you?” to get out another “ça va,” which in French is both “how are you” and “I am fin,” and after he made another longer comment, I laughed awkwardly. I’m still not sure that was an appropriate response to what he said, but I figured by the tone in his voice it was the best guess at the time. For all I know he could have said, “Haha, you are a stupid American who thinks she can speak French.” In that case, I guess a laugh would still have been an appropriate response, so it’s okay.

Of course, this is not the only time I have been mistaken for a fluent French speaker. Often on the streets someone will come up to me and ask for directions. Most of the time they get the message that I don’t speak from my deer in the headlights look, but normally if that doesn’t work, they quickly figure it out when I open my mouth. Although the other day, I did manage to point someone in the correct direction with the metro station. It was a good thing the only thing I had to do was point in front of my and say “tout droit.”

I would love to be able to speak French, and hopefully, I will be able to soon. But for now, I have to say I somewhat enjoy these slightly awkward moments as I laugh my way through this francophone city.

Bruges- Simply Beautiful

Imagine a small European city from the 1800s with narrow, cobblestone streets, horse-drawn carriages, glass-water canals, a magnificent central square and a neo-gothic cathedral that can be seen rising above the buildings from almost anywhere in the city. This is Bruges.

Of course, tourism has become the primary income for the city, which inevitably leads to lines of chocolate and lace shops complete with “handmade” goods. The authenticity could be questioned, but for the sake of the small town, we will give them the benefit of the doubt for now. Museums have also sprung up around the city, featuring work from the 1400s to the present day including works from artists like Jan Van Eyck and René Magritte. The horse carriages are only used for tourists who want to tour the city in the old style, but they make the scene a bit more picturesque regardless.

Unfortunately, I was not able to stay as long as I would have like, as I traveled to Bruges with my art class. But I plan to return soon on business. I hope I can then stay a bit longer and enjoy the atmosphere. What I found most attractive about the city was its size. Although the city has about 120,000 inhabitants, if you stay within the “old city,” as the center is called, there are only about 45,000 people. This makes the city feel much smaller than it actually is, even with the large number of tourists that come each year.

While there are still a large number of buildings that remain untouched from their original construction, many other buildings have been rebuilt because they were destroyed in battles or natural disasters. However, there was one church that particularly struck me as intriguing…or rather, I should say two churches—one on top of the other.

Snuggled into a corner of a plaza lined with grandiose structures that now serve as government buildings or tourist shops is a grey stone building decorated with gold statues of saints and knights. Underneath two arches is a small wooden door that leads into, what at first glance could easily be mistaken for a cave. Soon, you will realize, this is not a cave, but a church of the twelfth century. It is the Chapel of St. Basil. It is simple. To the left is a fairly small kind of atrium. Wooden seats lead to a small colonnade, which leads to an altar, now adorned with a statue of a gold eagle. There is a small passageway that wraps around back into the main room, and above one of the arches is a relief sculpture of St. Basil's baptism. It is simple, like the rest of the church. The figures look primitive and disproportional. But after nearly a millennium, the figures of St. Basil and the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove coming down from heaven are still clearly visible. Everything except for the statues that were clearly added later on is a stone grey, sometimes given a golden hue by the candlelight.

But perhaps what is more amazing than the antiquity of this church is the stark contrast with the church housed above it, the Basilica of the Holy Blood. From an outside entrance a staircase leads to another church, located directly on top of the early church. After climbing the stairs, another wooden door leads into a large open room at least ten times the size of the church below. The roof is at least another two stories high and the entire room is a dazzling gold from the paintings that cover most of the walls. The altar is again to the left, but it is adorned in a large gold and red altar and life-sized paintings. Where the passageway was below with the stone sculpture of St. Basil's baptism, there is another large room with an altar on top of a type of stage. On the stage stands a priest, his hands folded in prayer. He stands over a relic, supposedly holding the blood of a crusader. A loudspeaker encourages visitors to come put their hands on the relic and say a prayer. Donations are also welcome for the restoration of the church.

It intrigues me that the actions of those who built the simple, stone church below—those who participated in the crusades—led to the construction of the lavish church above. I wonder if they meant for their actions to lead to such things. But no matter what their intentions were, their actions led to what can be seen today.

Overall, Bruges is a magnificent city full of history and culture. It is a small city in a tiny country that is often passed over by many tourists longing to visit the grand sites of Paris and the like. But Bruges is not Paris or London or Rome, nor should it be. It is the very lack of the big-city feel that makes Bruges so appealing and unforgettable.

Bonjour de Cafe Belga

I am sitting in what is known to be one of the most popular cafes in Brussels, Cafe Belga. Families have come in for a Sunday pastry and cup of coffee with their little ones. Friends and co-workers catch up on the latest news and interests in their deceptively lovely French. Individuals type on computers or read books over a warm cup of, might I add, delicious cup of coffee accompanied by the best graham cracker I have ever tasted, a Speculoos. All of this with a wide variety of American pop, Belgian folk and whatever other genre of music the invisible D.J. feels like playing at the time. Outside is the weekly fresh market complete with fresh meats, bread, and vegetables, fresh flowers that brighten the ever cloudy Brussels days, vin chaud (hot wine), and guafres (the best waffles you will ever taste).

After two weeks of being in Brussels, I am beginning to learn the Belgian ways...slowly. It still takes time for me to learn how to order at restaurants or when you can say hello to people on the streets, and, for women, when you shouldn't. Languages create barriers that I never knew could exist, but also create adventures and connections between individuals that would not be possible otherwise. The first night we arrived, we ventured out to find a restaurant because we had no food in our flats. As it turned out, our waitress was traveling to the U.S. in a month and wanted to practice her English. We, inevitably, needed to practice our French.

A couple needs a seat, so I must give up mine and say goodbye for now. Until next time, from Cafe Belga. Au Revoir!