Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Remember


This poem was written by Poppy, a 15-year-old young adult and family friend of mine. It reveals the optimism, hope, aspiration and focus on the positive of the next generation. Something which we should also keep with us on this day:

Remember

Think golden meadows, specked with red jewels
Poppies, dancing softly in a slight, swaying breeze
Places of peace and joy
Places of remembrance

That time of year is here once more.

So as we gather today, think remembrance.
Remembrance for people here and not
And for those who journey
Across vast oceans

But not the distant remembrance of death and wars past
Think of happy summers, laughing, carefree
Kindness and love
That will always be strong.

We’re all gathered now, present together
Even those not here in body watch over in spirit
Feel their presence
Embrace the memories

Say not “Goodbye”, it’s “See you soon”
That bond of love in our hearts and souls
Connects us forever.
So feel the love between us all

The Importance of Remembering....

On the 11th hour, of the 11th day, of the 11th month on 1918, Germany signed an Armistice formally ending WWI, until that point the most destructive war the world had ever seen.

We continue the ritual of taking a moment of silence at 11 am every Nov 11, to remember all those who died.

Here in England, those who fought are called the "lost generation", because an entire generation of young men was essentially wiped out.

If World War I demonstrated the absolute destructive capability of humankind, to a degree that we had not previously thought possible, then WWII and the subsequent genocides that have followed demonstrate the full extent to which humans have yet to progress.

This is why remembering is so important.

Remembrance day shouldn't be political.

It should be about giving those who sacrifice and those who continue to put themselves in danger, the respect that they deserve.

It should be about remembering all those who have suffered as a result of human conflict.

It should put human faces on the numbers that we see thrown at us everyday.

It should remind all of us how many people have sacrificed so that others could live, continue to see the sunrise, enjoy a moment of laughter, love, and be loved.

I'm thinking about my great-grandfather, who fought in WWI as a pilot. He was a flying ace.
I'm thinking of his son, my grandfather, who joined the Canadian Air Force and also flew in WWII.

I'm thinking of the men and women that I met during my brief time in the Canadian military who deserve respect and support for the countless tasks that have been asked of them.

I'm thinking of their families in small towns and big cities across the vast country, and of families in all countries, who's loved ones are far away, risking their lives for principles that we aspire to uphold.

I'm thinking of families in the Middle East, East Timor, Haiti, Sudan, the DRC and countless other places, where people cannot live, day-to-day without fear.

Until we learn to live and act responsibly, there will always be those who have to suffer on our behalf. Today, we remember, honor, and respect them.

Monday, September 28, 2009

London Week 1


Since the last post I've had the chance to explore both the LSE campus and my own surrounding area a bit.

If this first week is any indication, it's going to be one heck of a year both socially and academically (at least in inspiration, I've yet to see what challenges scholastically, lie ahead).

The first few days were extremely active socially at my residence. There were tons of organized events and everyone here is extremely friendly as we are all from all over the world and in a new place.

I feel as though I belong here

The first day I went to the LSE campus I ran into 4 people that I knew, 2 whom I didn't even know were here. It helps that the campus is small certainly. But every time I am down there I run into different people that I know.

Today, my friend Mark Kersten whom I worked with during the last federal election in Ottawa just arrived (he's doing his MSc in International Relations), so I showed him around campus and helped him get a cellphone.

Afterwards he convinced me to go to one of the many campus pub's for a drink. (After 5 days in a row of non-stop partying I was, momentarily, hesitant). I would not regret it though.

We took our beers and stood on the street (as is common practice here, to drink and stand on the street outside the bar), and my old roommate from my second year at McGill, Zak Banks was walking by from the library, and joined us for a beer.

Then this blonde guy walked by and we both looked at each other in recognition. I asked him where I knew him and he said "I know you, you're Chris MacLean. You're the ex-bf of Maja, you lived in Moscow right?".

So, Hanes, from Stockholm, as I was to find out his name, attended the Anglo-American School of Moscow just after I left, although a couple grades lower. He's here studying Information Technology. This officially completes the circle of people that I know here. I now have seen people from Ottawa, Montreal, Budapest and Moscow (each of the places that I've lived in the last 12 years) here (I certainly wouldn't be surprised if there was someone from Ecuador and someone from Singapore here (although the latter, I likely wounldn't know them)). There are a particularly high number of people from McGill who have come here, and the representation from Canada is much higher than our size and significance on the international scene might warrant.

There are still plenty of people, particularly from Budapest but also from Moscow, that I've yet to be able to see but apparently reunion planning is in the works.

All in all though, I feel as though this is really where I am meant to be. I feel incredibly comfortable, and it is quite amazing how many of us are here.


The area where I live

I've been given an informal tour of my residence during which I took photos, but I haven't as yet had time to put them up. I've mostly just been in my room to sleep, the rest of the time I've been out. Here's a few interesting tidbits I have learned about the area surrounding my residence/college.

-Charles Dicken's lived across the street from where I am currently living.

-Next to my residence lies a large park, called "Coram's Field" which is only for children to us (they don't let you in unless you have young children with you), and also nearby is an orphanage. A long time ago (before Dicken's), a wealthy person (I'm not sure who, perhaps Coram?), dedicated his large plot of land to helping vulnerable children.

-Dicken's wrote the novel "Oliver Twist" while living across the street, and it's probably (although still speculative) that the countless orphaned children he would have seen in this area would have served as inspiration for the novel.

I'll put up photos soon.

Surprises

1) The city of London, as many old cities, is organized in a sort of chaotic, decentralized, ad-hoc way. The streets are never straight and they always change names after a couple km's.

The reason for this is pretty simple, unlike North American cities, London was around way before urban planning even existed as an enterprise. Secondly, this is really just a series of villages and towns that after a while just grew into each other. For example, I actually live in Bloomsbury.

2) Surprisingly enough however, I've found that the institutional organizations also feel as though they are thoroughly decentralized and ad-hoc as well.

a) For example the gym of the LSE (let's face it, athletics aren't really a priority for them), is located above a cafe and accessible only by weaving through a maze of stairwells. To access the men's locker room is equally tricky as it is located on the otherside of the gym down a narrow hallway and then staircase.

They really just put the gym in the most random room that suddenly was available space for them. Needless to say I think I'll be joining the gym below my residence, which has a pool and decent rates for the residents.

b) Opening a bank account here has been outrageously difficult. Each bank branch, even if they are the same bank, requires different documentation in order to open an account. So I have to be very careful about the location of which branch I pick, because I feel that I will need to be able to get to it fairly regularly.

All in all

My first week here has been pretty non-stop. I certainly need to restore some balance (with exercise, rest and a re-focus on academia) to my day-to-day activities but in the big picture I think that will happen.

A blog entry on an alumni lecture by Lord Saatchi that I attended today will go up soon. Until then, may you live strong and properous!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Thoughts and First Impressions of London...

Well, its 2 am and I'm supposed to go on a tour of the Parliament (Or the Palace of Westminister as they call it here) tommorow at 8 am, but after a night of socializing and drinking (Goodenough College had free welcome drinks tonight), and due to my jetlag I'm still awake. So, I figure that sharing my first impressions with all of you is a productive way to spend my way to alert mind right now.

1) First off, I'm extremely happy with my residence. The people here are really nice and welcoming, theres loads of social activities planned for everyone to get to know each other and my room is decently sized and clean and completely satisfactory for me. Today I went to Soho to the Chinatown here (which is unbelievably SMALL?! I was expecting the Chinatown here in LONDON to be decently sized, I would say it's comparable to the one in Montreal), and learned just how centrally located my residence is. It's a 15 minute walk to the LSE, a 5 minute walk to SOAS, a 10 minute walk to Picadilly Circus, and also a 5 minute walk to Oxford Street.
(For Montrealers, it's pretty much like living on Sherbrooke and St.Urbain or something.)

2) Yesterday when I was walking around in a dazed state, I was almost hit by a car because I was instictively looking the wrong way (here you have to look right immediately when crossing the street, and then left). But outside of that, I realized when jaywalking the small, tiny, tiny streets, and looking at the endless lines of cafe's and pubs, that I'm really pretty comfortable here in Europe. There was a familiarity which returned that I haven't felt in a while. And I was surprised by it because I think I had forgotten just how comfortable I was and used to feel in Europe.
I guess that 6 years in Canada doesn't take that away from you.

The other thing I noticed however was that what was so surprising to me, and it shouldn't be, but is just how COSMOPOLITAN London is. The reason this conflicted in my head was because the Europe that I have experienced in my memories was one of a very homogenous, all-white population in Budapest or Moscow. So the presence of such diversity in a European environment threw my familiarity off. In a way however, this is like a perfect merging of my old and the new. North American diversity, in a European setting. :)

3) I still haven't met too many people from the LSE. Just one girl from Sydney studying Development, and then a couple of LSE alumni's. But thats what is so interesting about my residence, I will get to meet people from outside my classes. Tommorow after the tour of the Parliament, (of which I will attempt to post photos), I will try to post my photos on here.

4) I am now the co-President of the Tennis Club for my residence! We will be organizing tournaments, and possibly do some coaching (his idea, not mine). My partner is Micheal, my neighbor, a Phd student from Normandy, France. And I've seen his 5 Babolat rackets, which attest that his tennis skills are far superior to mine, which is good, because as Tennis Club Presidents, one of us has to be half-decent. :)

More updates to come...

Monday, September 21, 2009

Lessons from the Marathon

I meant to write alot of this immediately following the marathon but lethargy and then a climax of activity just prior to my leaving Canada made me more effectively able to procrastinate it.

Having said that, the marathon was definitely one of the top three most difficult things I’ve ever done in my life (the other two being climbing Kilimanjaro (in particular the final ascent) and specific portions of my phase III training (offensive and defensive operations and patrolling). So I will always remember it. At least, until I run another one.

As a side note, my Dad came into town, flew in from New Zealand so he could be with there when I ran my first Marathon and also to see me off to London and this next phase of my life. It was utterly shocking me, I was walking to my aunts house listening to the marathon playlist I had created for myself, to suddenly see him standing 1 metre from me. It was awesome. I felt tremendously grateful for his support, albeit with a little more pressure to do well.

For the first 21.1 km Juan and I cruised at a fairly solid pace, but by km 25 (we had set it up so that there were people cheering us at the 15km, the 26km, the 38km, and the finish point) right where my Dad was supposed to join us (he ran with us from km 26- 38), I really started to crash.

I had expected that I would crash, as all runners do at some point during the race, but I had anticipated that I would have lasted a little longer, and maybe fallen apart a little more gradually.

Around the 23rd km, I started getting goosebumps and feeling chills and generally feeling very cold, a bizarre feeling considering I was running and sweating. This kinda freaked me out. It was only the beginning of my challenges. Here are the lessons I've learned:


Lesson # 4 Start slow

No matter how many times Juan and I discussed the need to start slow, the excitement of the day, the crowd, the presence of the other runners, and our own innate competitive desire (or dislike for letting others pass us) won over and we ran the first 21.1km in 1 hour and 50 minutes, or on pace for about 3 hours and 40 minutes. Slightly faster than we would have liked. And this contributed to my crash at 26 km as opposed to around 33 km which is what I expected based on my training. If you run just 5 seconds per kilometre faster than what you did during your training, it can really hurt much earlier, later on in the race.


Lesson # 3 Nothing can compensate for running, Do more hill training

During the training I substituted soccer matches and several hours of tennis for some of my runs. The hardest thing about training for a marathon is having to limit your exercising and sporty activities to running. I haven’t lifted weights in 6 months, but I wasn’t able or willing to stop playing tennis and soccer this summer, which, given that I also had a full-time job and had mandatory rest days, sometimes made my running hard to manage. I think that substituting sports for runs as much as I did was a mistake as I don’t feel that I logged the kilometres necessary to get an ideal time. Secondly, the hills on the race day route really hurt me as I wasn’t able to get any hill training in since Ottawa doesn’t have any hills. When I started to crash at km 24, the hill on rue Berri (see below) really knocked me down.


Lesson # 2 Sometimes you have to accept your strength levels on a given day

I was sick for 3 weeks prior to the race and I think that this really hurt me during the race. I just didn’t have the endurance I was expecting (based off of how I felt during my 25 and 30 kilometre runs, I expected to crash at around 33 km’s).

It was really hard and really frustrating once I started to crash and slow down, to see that our pace was slipping away. I felt that I was letting Juan (who was feeling stronger than me) and my father (whom I’ve watched compete in triathlons, marathons and Ironmans) whom I desperately wanted to be proud of me, down by my struggles.

This, in addition to my own frustration really contributed to the degree of pain which I was feeling physically.

Sometimes you have to just accept that you aren’t as strong on that day as you might be on others and just enjoy the process of the struggle, and work to finish the race, seeing it as a learning experience, rather than fighting a losing (and ultimately more painful) battle to go for a time that won’t be achievable.

Lesson # 1 Train your mental endurance.

My mental endurance wavered, which was surprising to me (I’m certain that this was part of the problem), as I figured that my military training (5 days without sleep several times) and past athletic and competition experience would help me.

I knew I would be tired and it would be hard, but I think as a whole I underestimated how tough the marathon would be, mentally.

By kilometre 35 (after almost 3.6 hours) I felt unable to focus on pushing my body through the pain I was feeling. My mind started to feel apathetic, and became easily distracted and started to wander. Old memories would flood in, queued by the sight of buildings or places that I had been during my 5 year carouse in Montreal. Trying to stay in the moment is hard enough day-to-day but trying to do it after running 35km, when you are feeling sick to your stomach, and you’re exhausted of being in pain is a whole other story.



Post Marathon



The first three days after the marathon were unbelievably sore and stiff. On Day 3 walking on flat surfaces or uphill was ok, but down the stairs was still pretty torturous.

I did notice though, that whenever I was active, either riding a bicycle to the store or walking the dog, my legs felt much better. They need to move to get the lactic acid moving.

Conclusion

That afternoon, sitting on my aunt's patio with a post-race beer in my hand, Sergey asked me if I would consider running another marathon soon, with him.

Without initially answering, I stood up to make a toast to my family. The timing of my completion of the marathon was perfect, I thought, because it feel right before my 25th birthday and right before leaving Montreal. I told my family that Sergey had asked me if I wanted to run another one, and my response to him that night was, "well, it took me 25 years to run the first one, MAYBE in the next 25 years I'll run another one". :) I then thanked my family for being there, I have never felt the kind of family and friend support that I felt that weekend. Those who were close to me really came through for me and for that I will be eternally grateful and I will carry that with me here on my own in London, as a reminder that back in Canada, there are people who support me and care for me.

Today, as I conclude all these thoughts sitting at the desk of my new room in London, staring through my window overlooking a rich green park with oak benches and a hard court tennis court, I think, I will run a marathon again, and DEFINITELY within the next 25 years.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

What is Success?

Came across two fantastic lectures on success that I wanted to share with you all (or at least keep track of for my own personal indulgence):

1) First, by philosopher and novelist Alain de Botton:



2) Second by John Wooden, often considered to be one of the greatest coaches in all of sports. He talks in the rambling and reflective way one might expect from an 89 year-old, about why one is a teacher, and what is true success:

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Nature vs Nurture: The Violent Mind

I had an interesting conversation/debate with my mother and Laura during our 8 hour hike across Whistler Mountain to Singing Pass.

See, Laura believes that in the Nature vs Nurture debate, the balance is about 10-90. So 90% of what determines the person one becomes is due to environmental factors.

My mother, on the otherhand, believes that genes matter far more, she quoted around 40-60 as the more accurate balance in her mind.

My response to both of them was that they weren't giving enough credit to either influence.

Overall I do think that we give far too much credit to "genes" in society. I think that environment plays a very very important role in how a persons brain and social behaviour develops, and that environmental conditions can often render genetic predispositions to be impotent. But I also think that, conversely, the power of particular genetic dispositions can also sometimes override any environmental constraints.

(For example if someone has a genetic condition that makes them 450lbs, no amount of ballet lessons are going to make them very able as ballet dancers).

This debate has implications which make it an often controversial and/or emotional topic.

Some people feel as though, by attributing behaviour and interests to environment, its not giving enough credit to free will. Others might argue that to say that certain people are hard-wired to be better than others is something which is dangerously close to defending classism or racism.

I think if anyone analyzes how the brain develops, especially as a baby, the overwhelming influence lies in the environment you grow up in. However, from a macro perspective, within societies, there seems to be evidence of brain development and behaviour disproportionately in one direction.

Professor Jim Fallon at the University of California has this GREAT lecture which explains how this phenomenon occurs, as he touches upon this debate through the prism of analysis of the brains of violent murderers.


Thursday, July 23, 2009

Reflections on Move #13


Let me be very clear, I HATE moving.

The process of having to go through all of your stuff and put it away in different boxes; the guilt you feel as you realize that you haven't justifiably used or needed well over half of what you have, the further guilt you feel as you realize that, under the circumstances you can't really pass these useless items on to someone else, and instead you have to just throw them, in the process contributing to the endless pile of refuse that continues to grow menacingly as our species neglect and irresponsibility continues to prevail.

Coming with all of that is the emotion that you feel about the fact that a transition in your life is upon you. The strength of this emotion is compounded by the exhaustion that you feel working full days at work and then spending your afternoons and evenings moving.

All of this makes me wonder, why in the heck have I moved SO MUCH?

Not including any of the moves before my 5th birthday (because who remembers anything before your 5th birthday anyway?), this was the 13th move of residence that I have done in my live, spanning across 5 different countries.

Fatal Flaw

Given that I want a job and a life where I (and my future family) will most likely be traveling frequently, is my disdain for moving my fatal flaw?

As every literature dabbler knows, every protagonist has a fatal flaw. The one thing which he cannot avoid which is his undoing. In tragedies, it is often what the hero loves the most, that hurts him the most. To give a simple Pop culture reference, Spiderman loves Jane, but cannot have Jane because it would mean he could no longer be Spiderman.

The only resolution I can see to this is that hopefully, my future moves will be more simple. This move couldn've been more complex, two people going to different continents, at different times, with one (my) parents both overseas and the family house is on the other side of the country.

Emotions

I felt particularly emotional moving this time around. Far more than normal. Especially when you consider that I had only lived in this apartment for 8 months, making it the place with the second least amount of time spent of everywhere I've lived.

I can only come to 3 possible conclusions as to why this was the case:

1) Now that I am older, I am more aware of just how dramatic these changes and transitions in life are.

2) Given that this place (Canada) was the first place in my life where I actually entirely constructed and created my world and my life and everything was done on my own choice (rather than moving simply because of my parents work), I therefore feel the consequences and costs of the move that much deeper.

Or 3) I have somehow become more aware of what I feel about things around me?

My feeling is that it is a bit of all three, probably mostly 1 and 2.

In any case, after 3 days in a row of 18 hour days, working army from 7-3 and then organizing the move, I'm glad its over.

And while I don't look forward to the next one, I accept fully the inevitability of its arrival, it is simply a consequence of how I have decided to live my life.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

There is something about Africa...

There is something that is special about Africa.

In his book, "The End of Poverty" by Jeffrey Sachs, he quotes the great biologist E. O Wilson, who argued that "human beings are 'hard wired' to feel a special resonance ("biophilia") with the African savannah, the place where our species arose some 150,000 years ago."

I have lived in and travelled to more than several countries within every continent (not Antarctica), and there's something about Africa that touches the bones and the blood of all who visit there (not the northern Arabic part per se (Egypt and Tunisia just had a different feel)), .

I spent my early early childhood, from age 1-3/4, in Malawi and then Zimbabwe.

The result is that I do not actually have any distinct memories from my time there, my earliest memory is from when I was 4, living in NDG in Montreal, I remember my father picking me up from school, I had painted a snake, and we walked home, stopping in the grass for a pause and he gave me a cookie.

However, there was something about "Africa" that always touched my heart or gave me a special feeling.

They say that cat's always remember the place they were born, and when they feel that they are about to die, they return to the place that they were born and wait to die there. There was one such Orange tabby who did that in our home in Singapore, my Dad tried in vain to "shish" him away but he was utterly resilient and indeed died a few weeks later.

Anyways, the point is, while I had no direct memories of my time as a toddler there, (everything I had were memories implanted by stories my parents would tell, and there were plenty of them), there were certain triggers and sensations that I would get when I was exposed to something I associated with "Africa".

One of the most obvious ones is music. Any time I hear Paul Simon's "Graceland Album",



Toto's "Africa



Or photos and typical African voices



I just get this feeling inside me, like a familiar, cozy, beauty.

I also have a blanket that was weaved for me by my parents neighbors in Malawi when I was born. It is brightly coloured (as most African clothing and material is), with orange and yellow spike patterning and it commemorates the 40th anniversary of the United Nations which coincidentallys falls near my birthday. I'm not sure why she choose the knit that for my blanket, but I do think its interesting. Nonetheless, I absolutely LOVE this blanket. I feel an unexplainable attachment to it.

During the christmas break of 2000-2001 I got the chance to return to Africa, finally. My Dad and I went to Tanzania and climbed Mt Kilimanjaro and safaried the Ngorogoro Crater as well as the Serengeti Plains. My memories from that trip remain perhaps some of the most distinct that I have from any place that I have been.

1) I remember going for a run with my dad, the stark contrast of our bright white shoes against red clay/dust, the unbelievably majestic horizon, plains with Acacia trees (see below), little kids suddenly emerging out of grass dwellings and running barefoot playfully and excitedly with us yelling "Wazungu Wazungu" which is swahili for "White man".


2) I remember just after we had climbed Kilimanjaro, we were all sitting with our guides and our cooks at the base having a post expedition beer (called Kili, actually). The white and brown face of the mountain was lit up in the background as the sun was setting on the opposite side of it, just behind us. Suddenly out of nowhere the cooks and guids began to sing, they sang about the mountain, for those of you who have been to Africa, you know, the sounds were just gorgeous as they were all in perfect harmony with one another.

3) Perhaps the coolest thing I have ever witnessed in my life. During New Years Eve of that holiday we were on the Serengeti plains. The hotel we were staying at had a large patio with a panoramic view of the entire plains with the sun setting behind it. At midnight a friend of my fathers, Gary MacPhie, brought out his bagpipes and began to play. If any of you know the bagpipes, you know that it is an instrument which for some reason seems to evoke emotion really well. These sounds, in combination with the view of the Serenget plains had everyone at the hotel, and especially the locals, absolutely mesmorized and in awe. It is something I will never forget.

And yet, with all of this comes the extreme poverty, the sometimes shockingly horrendous things that people do to each other there, the suffering and the tragedy.

My uncle, Alan, lived in South Africa for only 2 years of his life, but to his day (he now lives in Belgium and plays the viola for the Belgian National Opera), he says that his experience and memories from his time there remain the most impactful, special and overwhelming of anywhere else he's ever been.

But my uncle and my mother have both talked and emailed me about how Africa has a unique kind of energy that is so different from everywhere else. An electricity that is overwhelmingly beautiful, but one that can turn violent or tragic quickly.

Alan says that perhaps its because life is so full of this energy that it often seems to end quickly there. Like a candle or a match that burns too bright, it cannot sustain itself for as long.

I asked another friend of mine, Stephane, who spent his adolescent years in Guinea, to tell me what he thinks and feels about it.

"Its out of time, full of smells, majestic beauty but violence and languidity as well, an unbelievable mix" he said.

The impetous and swell of passion that sparked this blog entry was hearing African music coming from the headphones of someone in the lunch line today.

Although I feel I can say with relative certainty that Canada is where I would now call home. That unexplanable feeling that I get when I am touched in someway by Africa, means that it will always have something that Canada can not replace.

As I reflect on this post I realize that 2011 will be 10 years to the year, since I was in Tanzania with my father. Perhaps I need to return to Africa before then...

Friday, July 3, 2009

Canada: "When I get older, I will be stronger"

I felt so thrillingly fortunate on Canada Day. I finally felt so proud of my country. On Wednesday, for the first time I felt like I really began to get a taste of the current that flows through the bones of people here.

First of all, I cannot believe that it took 6 years for me to finally experience celebrating Canada Day in Ottawa. It is quite the spectacle. After spending 5 years in Montreal, where Canada Day is hardly perceptible (Quebec schedules July 1 as "moving day" so all the leases expire and Montreal is bogged down by traffic and stressed citizens), it was so refreshing to be a part of a celebration in Ottawa, where being proud of your country is widely accepted.

Everything about the evening made me so utterly proud of my country. I felt for the first time, that I really had a perceptible idea of what Canada is, in its ever evolving form, colour, tone and shape. It told me what Canada is striving so hard to be.

I've said this before to many of my close friends. I believe that Canada is uniquely placed. As the collision and blending of cultures and races becomes inevitable in modern life, Canada, a bilingual nation-state, founded not as a state for a particular distinct ethnic group but on the basis of particular social ideas (namely tolerance, equality, and individual freedoms), one in which everyone can come from anywhere to participate in, is ideally constructed for the modern world.
And Canadians try soo soo hard to be the ideals that it preaches. That striving for the ideal, to be the ideal, is what makes me so utterly proud of this country.

The lineup of performing artists reflected the distinctly diverse and equally valued and important elements in this country. First up was K'naan, a Somali-Canadian rapper who spoke glowingly about how July 1st was the independence day in Somalia as well, and how he was so lucky because he got to celebrate the birthdays of "both of his homes" on the same day.

That is the epitome of the Canadian immigrant experience that we are striving to create. That everyone can come here, and retain their cultural heritage and identity but also be Canadian and a part of this society. This is the mosaic.

The rest of the lineup included, a Quebec pop star, a first nations dancer from BC, a country rock star from Alberta, a female acapello group that sang in Spanish, English and French, and finally, Sarah McLachlan perhaps one of our most famous artists.

Whenever a little kid or an ethnic "minority" was shown on the jumbotron with maple leafs on their cheeks waving the flag, the crowd broke out into cheers and momentous uproar, we have so much pride in our diversity.

Sarah McLachlan told the audience just before beginning her first song "We are all so fortunate to be here, lets just think about that for a moment".

The lyrics of K'Naan's last song, "When I get older, I will be stronger, they'll call me freedom..." to me, exemplifies what it means to be Canadian for so many people in this country right now and in the audience that day. So full of hope and optimism about the future.

But it also could be the theme song for this country. Canada is young, only 143 years old. And it will only continue to get stronger. Its people all came here from somewhere else, striving for something better, a place where they can be safe, free to keep their culture, and be just as good and as accepted as everyone else.

It's not perfect, but we are working on it. It is slowly improving, and that is what is so cool.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

One Afternoon with the Governor General



As the Queens Representative and Canadian Head of State, she is the Commander in Chief of the Canada and therefore, of the Canadian Forces.

As some of you know I am currently working for the Ceremonial Guard as one of the Platoon commanders of the Parade Company. The job is a pretty sweet gig, possibly the easiest and smoothest army work I've ever had, and it comes with perks, meeting Her Excellency being one prime example.

As her personal guards, she must inspect us prior to the commencement of our summer duties (we have sentries at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Rideau Hall (her house), and of course, we do the Changing of the Guard Ceremony on Parliament Hill.

Last week on Thursday we held the Her Excellency the Governor General (HEGG) parade, for her inspection. Photos are available here, and here. As a Platoon Commander and an Officer, I am one of the guys in the front of the main body of troops, with my sword in the carry position.

First Impressions

I had heard nothing but good things about the GG prior to meeting her (members of the military, in particular, think she has been fantastic in her treatment of the troops), and admittedly I've always liked her ever since her appointment by former PM Paul Martin, so my expectations were high.

She is absolutely as gracious and classy and elegant as everyone says.

First of all, she has to be barely over 5 feet tall, she had some serious heels on and was still maybe up to my shoulder, if that.

Nevertheless, she appeared entirely at ease talking to 6ft tall uniformed infanteers.

She took her time on the inspections and talked to 1 out of every 3 to 4 soldiers, asking them questions and getting to know them. What specifically was said, I and no one else there except each of those soldiers knows, as she put it in her speech afterwards with a wink and a smile "what I talk about with the Guards is between me and my troops, its top secret information".

After the inspection was done, the officers and senior nco's were invited to the patio behind Rideau Hall to meet with Her Excellency personally.

Creole preparation

Knowing earlier in the week that I would be meeting Her Excellency, I asked some of my troops with Haitian background how to say the french equivalent of "Enchante" or (Nice to meet you in a formal way), in Creole.

(HEGG Michaelle Jean speaks 6 languages fluently (English, French, Spanish, Italian, Portugese and Creole) and of course, Creole is her native language.)

For those of you who are wondering, muay contente sayo or something like that, is how you say enchante in Creole.

ANYWAYS, I had it totally memorized and when the moment came I was so focused on taking off my gloves and putting away the glass of water that a caterer had given me, that I think I just mumbled "great to see you ma'am, your excellency". Or something to that effect. :)

I'm not going to get into too much detail about what she said to us for obvious reasons.

But I will say this.

She was very nice, very gracious and also honest and forthright about her experiences with the military. She has visited the soldiers in Afghanistan (twice), and she contrasted that with her upbringing in Haiti which, if you know anything about her biography, her family fled Haiti in 1968 to escape the regime of dictator Francois Duvalier, who had imprisoned and tortured Jean's philosopher father.

She is clearly very interested in learning as much as possible about and from the military, and has shown such in how she has handled her position.

After our meeting the rest of the soldiers came into the patio for the reception and Her Excellency went around and talked to everyone there, all ranks and even guests.

If you ever get the chance to go to Rideau Hall (it is open to the public, and in the winter time has a sledding hill and a hockey rink for all to use at any time) I highly recommend it. It is fantastically maincured and architectured.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

The power of a good story (Part I): Sports

I can remember as a little kid living in Singapore, waking up super early in the morning to watch playoff basketball games with my father on TV.

Back then, the team to beat was Hakeem Olajuwon's Houston Rockets who defeated both the New York Knicks and the Seattle Super Sonics in '94 and '95. To this day, I can still remember Vernon Maxwell's buzzer beater in Game 7 to win the series for the Rockets. It was a tremendous bonding experience for my father and I to share that passion for drama and excitement with each other, but I think these experiences also fundamentally shaped the person I have become today.

Our shared passion for drama and heroics would continue throughout my upbringing. No matter where we were, we would continue to watch such contests and battles, whether it was the Knicks-Heat playoff battles from the late evening into the early morning (because of the time zone) in Budapest, or the Ice Hockey World Championships from Moscow.

Perhaps it was these early mornings of my childhood that shaped my love for almost all sports, but ultimately, I think there is nothing better in life than a good story.

A good story

A good story makes us feel good, it makes us feel connected to the world around us, and whethers it's Homer's The Oddysey, Tolstoy's War and Peace, or an epic 6 hour, 5-set Wimbledon final between two of the greatest players to ever hit a ball with a racket, there is drama, tragedy and emotion. And when we witness these storylines, I think we are brought closer to the truth that permeates all life but some how remains frustratingly ungraspable.

Last Sunday morning at the family home of my partner, Laura Neagos I had one such experience. We had all woken up and eaten already and I, being the impolite but wildly impassioned sports fan, left the table early to go watch the 4th round of the French Open. Upon turning on the tv, to my shock and amazement, Nadal, the defending champion at Roland Garros for the last 4 years in a row, with a 38-0 record having never lost in Paris his entire career, had actually lost the first set and was struggling to keep pace with Soderling in the second set.

Soderling defeats a King

The match was wildly unexpected, and it demonstrated just how much "anything can happen" in sports, which is what makes them so exciting to watch. As the match unfolded and Soderling continued to play all-out, dialled in tennis, hitting shot after shot after shot at maximum effort, just catching line after line, we all began to realize that we might be witnessing an upset of significant magitude. Hearing my bellows and shrieks of excitement and awe, Laura's entire family, brother, mother, father and uncle were all drawn to the living room to see what was unfolding. The story of this contest brought us all together, Laura's family (who do not speak English nor play tennis but are casual sports fans) sensed the dramatic moment just as I did, all gathered around to watch the remaining duration of the match.

The ending provided yet another important life lesson. "Anything can happen" is one of the treasured aspects of sports, the reason we watch, the reason we bellow in disbelief, the reason we play in the first place. I was absolutely awed by the improbability of Soderling's performance given Nadal's invincibility on the clay courts in Paris. But upon seeing Soderling do his awkward and weirdly dismissive victory celebration, in which he barely glanced at Nadal during the handshake, and listening to his post-match interview in which he gave very little respect to the defending champion, I had a different thought.

Anything can indeed happen on a tennis court. And sometimes that sucks. After all life is unfair.

In losing, Nadal showed just how amazing his performance, and the performance of his rival, Roger Federer, has been over the last few years. To lose tight matches like this every once in a while is ordinary; to keep finding ways to win them, as Nadal and especially Federer have at every important event, is extraordinary. Federer has made it to the semi-finals of every grand slam tournament for the last 5 years, he has only ever lost to either Djokovic or Nadal (except for Australian '05 when a red-hot Marat Safin took him in a 5 set thriller) once there. The story line of the tournament is now whether Federer can finally capitalize on this window of opportunity. Never before (and likely never again) will he have such an opening at the French Open, to finally get that Career Grand Slam (of winning every major tournament), and to tie Sampras' Grand Slam titles record.

Of course, you never know, "anything can happen" and for Federer fans that is nerve wracking, but that's what makes this such a good story. And one that I will remember for the rest of my life.

Monday, June 1, 2009

The Munk Debate on Foreign Aid: Be It Resolved That Foreign Aid Does More Harm Than Good? (For or Against?)

"MUNK DEBATES" A FANTASTIC website that I implore everyone to bookmark. You can watch the debates for free online. 

Todays debate:

In a world where over 3 billion people live on under $2 a day, where economies and threats are globally interconnected, and where only small amounts of aid are given, should wealthy nations do more?  Or, given the poor track record of aid, the support it provides to dictators and tyrants, and the actual need for individual entrepreneurialism and free markets, should we focus our limited resources elsewhere?

The third Munk Debate will explore the opportunities and hazards of foreign aid, by debating the question: “Is foreign aid to the developing countries doing more harm than good?”

Foreign Aid is Bad

Argued by: Hernando de Soto and Dambisa Moyo  

The reality of foreign aid lies not in the persuasive moral case for helping those in need, but in the efficacy of our efforts for do so.  Put simply, the billions of dollars spent annually on international development have little positive impact, and may even exacerbate the very conditions they seek to address.  Over the past 30 years there is remarkably little evidence that development assistance actually works.

The case for foreign aid suffers from three principle problems: Its core assumptions are flawed; its history of implementation is problematic; and it has had egregious unintended consequences.   Together they should make donor nations and development organizations fundamentally rethink the way in which they engage with the rest of the world. 

1. Flawed Core Assumptions

The entire foreign aid project is based around three false assumptions.

First, foreign aid, and those that preach its moral imperatives, has long suffered from a staggering intellectual hubris.  Much as Edmund Burk decried the revolutionary zeal of the French revolution, critics of foreign aid have recoiled at the notion that aid planners can transform societies they don’t understand.  The world is a complex place, and positive social change is rarely instigated by bureaucrats a world away, implementing top-down technocratic campaigns.

Second, the rationale of foreign aid (as opposed to emergency humanitarian relief) is based on the preposition that financial aid can cause economic growth.  Sadly the history shows otherwise.  In fact, at an aggregate level, it is incredibly difficult to see any positive effect of aid on growth.  While one study in the 90’s found a slight correlation as long as the recipient country had solid monetary and trade policy (not generally the case), a subsequent study showed no link at all, and in Africa between 1970 and 1995, as aid dependency grew, GDP per capita growth slowed.  Of the 66 countries that have borrowed money from the World Bank for the past 25 years, a vast majority are as poor as they were when they took their first loan, and a third are actually worse off.

Third, and increasingly en vogue, is the assumption that all that is needed is a ‘big push’ of financial aid for countries to emerge from poverty.  From Bono to Sachs, and Geldof to Blair, advocates argue that successful aid is a function of scale rather than strategy.  A lot more of the same, they argue, will allow countries to escape the trap of poverty and put economies on the ladder of prosperity.  This of course is not a new idea, and was urged in the 1950’s and 1960’s.  Since then $2.3 trillion has been spent on ‘big pushes’ with limited results.

2.  A History of Implementation Problems

Even if the grand plans of foreign aid technocrats were to work in theory, in practice most aid has been politically tainted, inefficient and based on false promises, further devaluing the entire exercise. 

First, aid is seldom given out of pure altruism. The bulk of aid transferred from wealthy countries to developing nations over the past 50 years has come with significant strings attached – what is often called, ‘tied aid.’   Aid has been tied to the geopolitical political interests of the donor nation.  This can range from US support for allied nations during the Cold War, to aid given in support of military objectives in Afghanistan, Iraq and throughout Africa. International organizations also have macro economic mandates, which are often tied to their lending. Emergency funds from the IMF and World Bank, for instance, are linked to a wide range of free-market policy prescriptions that many argue make up a new economic imperialism.

Second, foreign aid has too often proven egregiously inefficient. A large percentage of total aid money ends up in the hands of donor nation consultants, as technical assistance and transaction overhead costs.  As Patrice Bemba, an official from the Democratic Republic of Congo Ministry of Finance has stated, "you cannot demand or expect us to produce results or alleviate poverty when only 25 per cent of the donated money gets to us."

Third, the implementation of foreign aid agendas is too often based on false promises.  And the promises are staggering:  G8 nations regularly commit to aid increases they never implement, the United Nations plans to reach all 54 Millennium Development Goals targets, and economist Jeffrey Sachs even announced the "end of poverty" altogether by 2025, which he says will be "much easier than it appears."  These ambitions, while laudable, miss the point, and when promises get broken, our commitments quickly appear empty. 

3.  Unintended Consequences

Finally, in addition to failing in its stated objectives, foreign aid has actually had substantial negative effects.

As a large part of foreign aid is transferred from government to government, much of it never gets to its intended beneficiaries.  Instead, it is absorbed by corrupt governments, used for personal enrichment, to strengthen military, to manipulate elections and to oppress citizens. Worse still, supplying money to corrupt governments is actually advocated by many aid proponents, seen as a lesser evil to giving no aid at all.  As Peter Bauer has noted, all too often foreign aid simply turned out to be "transferring money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries."

Continued aid over long periods of time has also created unintended structural behavior.  Prolonged institutionalized food aid, for example, in the form of subsidized US crops being sold in Africa, undermines local production, making regions even more dependant on aid to divert famine.  Per-capita food production in Africa has fallen in every year since the 1960s.

Finally, aid creates a dangerous moral hazard.  It rewards anti-democratic governments, giving them little incentive to reform.  In addition, it crowds out local entrepreneurship and leads to bloated bureaucracies.  If a country’s economy deteriorates, the level of aid they receive often increases. This is not a healthy incentive structure.

Foreign aid has not only failed, it has caused harm to the very people it was meant to assist.  After 50 years of experimentation and trillions of dollars, it is high time we do the one thing we can to help:  stop.

Foreign Aid is Good

Argued by Stephen Lewis and Paul Collier

The debate over foreign aid is an example of the perfect becoming the enemy of the good.  While aid, its implementation and its impacts are far from perfect, three points must be defended: (1) foreign aid is absolutely critical, both to our own self interests and to the millions of lives it saves; (2) foreign aid is a work in progress, constantly evolving and improving; and (3) many of the arguments used by the critics of aid are easily dismissed.

1.  Aid is Critical

The positive effects of foreign aid are as abundant as they are compelling.  Together, they leave little doubt that on principle, aid is a worthwhile exercise.

The global financial necessity of aid is becoming increasingly apparent. In an interconnected and interdependent global economy, the extreme inequalities between those that live in poverty, and those that live with abundance is a destabilizing force.  There are clear trade incentives for donor countries in evening this playing field (rich countries will by more of our goods and services), more important though, are the costs of doing nothing.

Disengaging from the developing world has real security implications.  The Bookings Institution estimates that there are 56 states that do not have the resources to provide basic government services.  These countries are far more vulnerable to terrorism, weapons proliferation, organized crime, infectious disease, and armed conflict. Global health threats are also interdependent. A Recent US study showed that a new pandemic flu could kill over half a million Americans, and cost the US economy $70 - $160 billion in lost productivity and medical expenses.

Aside from the self interested rationales for foreign aid, by far it’s greatest value is a human one:  it saves lives. Large scale health interventions have facilitated routine immunizations, the eradication of small pox and polio, and significant progress against river blindness, guinea worm, diarrheal diseases and tuberculosis.  This has led directly to increased life expectancy around the world – typical developing have seen countries saw an increase from 48 to 68 years over the past four decades. The simple fact is that millions of people are alive today because of foreign aid.

2.  How to make it better

It is indisputable that foreign aid has had a tremendous positive impact.  Aid has lifted countries out of famine, improved their public health, and moved nations from economic isolation into the global economy.  This said, getting aid right is an incredibly complex proposition.  Which is precisely why the aid community has relentlessly focused on how it can improve.  Several efforts are of note.

Many of the critics of foreign aid are right, it is about more money.  Jeffrey Sachs estimates that a doubling of aid to roughly $100 billion a year, could end extreme poverty and prevent 8 million annual deaths.  More resources would save more lives.  This increase is needed to lift countries out of the trap of poverty.  When all the money in a society is spent on basic survival, there is no surplus for investment and growth. Only external funds can break this cycle.

But increasing foreign aid and reforming foreign aid are not mutually exclusive propositions. Money must be spent more effectively, be more accountable and not go to support corrupt governments.

Over that past two decades, aid effectiveness has been a central notion in the aid discussion.  Better aid coordination mechanisms, less tied aid, and stricter evaluation have all been adopted. Aid is also getting more accountable to those it is indented to assist, through direct budget support and greater local evaluation of both needs, and aid effectiveness. 

Giving greater local control, however, leads to a high chance of corruption. And here again, the aid community has been proactive.  In Malawi, or example, the British government has supported a strong internal anti-corruption bureau, that both helps to ensure its aid get well spent, but also has a lasting impact on good governance in the country.

3. Problems with the anti aid arguments

Finally, it is worth pointing out some of the more egregious errors in the  arguments of those opposing foreign aid.

First, the notion that there has been a 50 year ‘big push’ of aid is simply not true.  While $2.3 trillion over fifty years sounds like a lot, it equals $46 billion per year, a modest amount for any global capital flow.  What’s more, only about $26 billion per year is spent in the low-income countries, the ones who do indeed require a legitimate ‘big push’.

Second, aid has not been a failure.  Millions of people are alive because of aid, countries have been lifted out of poverty, and the ‘green revolution’ has transformed agricultural productivity.

Third, the connection between aid and economic growth is far more complex than critics purport. The vast amount of research to date has found that aid does indeed have a modest impact on growth. None of these studies, however, take into account the potential deflation of economies should the aid have never been provided, and more importantly, none take into account the human benefits of aid - the lives improved and saved.

Fourth, foreign aid is not anti-market.  If anything, aid has been overly tied to free market reforms in the form of structural adjustment conditions. What’s more, a large proportion of aid goes to public infrastructure, such as roads, railways, power plants, and electric grids, the very development needed to stimulate private enterprise.

Fifth, aid is not all top down.  In fact, some of the largest and most prominent aid projects currently being implemented are precisely the opposite. The Millennium Village project, for example, is decisively ‘bottom up,’ based around community participation and local empowerment and accountability.

Finally, there is a distinct free market romanticism that colors much of the critique of aid.  A romanticism that is particularly hypocritical given the current failures in the global capital markets.  Sometimes, even in wealthy countries, government action is required to help those in need, which is precisely what foreign aid attempts to do.

The global foreign aid project is far from perfect.  There are no shortage of examples of mistakes, missteps and malpractice.  However, the fundamental truth remains: without it, millions or people will die unnecessarily, and millions more will continue to live in extreme poverty.  The rest is academic.