The Japan earthquake is absolutely tragic, and the people affected have all my sympathies. I admire the Japanese people's ability to handle a catastrophe of such gravity, and especially the courage and self-sacrifice of the power plant workers still fighting to save the rest.
However, quite contrary to how it may seem, at least in parts of the media world that I'm connected to, things have not come to a standstill in the Arab world. Concerned and connected citizens are still demonstrating around the Middle-East and North Africa. And, not to forget, fighting for their own and others' lives and freedom.
As if that shouldn't be enough, this article in Al Jazeera, by Nouriel Roubini, highlights another reason not to forget what's going on in the Arab world.
Please read, think and comment!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Panem et circenses - bread and circus
Nearly every citizen in this strange little country at the top of Europe has plenty of bread. So, we all know what's the second thing needed to keep them happily calm and inactive - circus!
The Roman emperors knew that. In the days of The Roman Empire it meant gladiators fighting till the end. In Norway today it means arranging the Nordic skiing WC, with athletes fighting till the finishing line (and then a bit in the media later on).
Seen from abroad, the most interesting thing about this event is probably that the world hardly cares. They couldn't care less, actually. There are a few historical events going on in the Middle East at the moment, and, as if that shouldn't be enough, they're probably busy with the cricket WC anyway.
However, seen from here, this event for the local few, let's count Austria, Sweden and Finland among the countries that are even aware of it, is regarded as the main thing in the world during the days it's happening. The fact that a local kid is probably the world's fastest cross country skier totally dominates the news scene, and it would probably take the killing of a Libyan head of state to even compete for news value these days.
And what's even more impressive in these days of watching TV and surfing the internet: in our capital, Oslo, a city of less than 600,000 people, more than 150,000 actually attended the most popular prize ceremony. That's more than 25 percent of the population actually standing out there in the freezing wet snow, watching this guy receiving his umpteenth little gold medal that the rest of the world doesn't even know about.
What was valid for the passive and over-fed citizens of Rome of days long gone, is apparently still valid for the otherwise passive and over-fed citizens of Oslo, or Norway if you will, today. Why am I not surprized?
The Roman emperors knew that. In the days of The Roman Empire it meant gladiators fighting till the end. In Norway today it means arranging the Nordic skiing WC, with athletes fighting till the finishing line (and then a bit in the media later on).
Seen from abroad, the most interesting thing about this event is probably that the world hardly cares. They couldn't care less, actually. There are a few historical events going on in the Middle East at the moment, and, as if that shouldn't be enough, they're probably busy with the cricket WC anyway.
However, seen from here, this event for the local few, let's count Austria, Sweden and Finland among the countries that are even aware of it, is regarded as the main thing in the world during the days it's happening. The fact that a local kid is probably the world's fastest cross country skier totally dominates the news scene, and it would probably take the killing of a Libyan head of state to even compete for news value these days.
And what's even more impressive in these days of watching TV and surfing the internet: in our capital, Oslo, a city of less than 600,000 people, more than 150,000 actually attended the most popular prize ceremony. That's more than 25 percent of the population actually standing out there in the freezing wet snow, watching this guy receiving his umpteenth little gold medal that the rest of the world doesn't even know about.
What was valid for the passive and over-fed citizens of Rome of days long gone, is apparently still valid for the otherwise passive and over-fed citizens of Oslo, or Norway if you will, today. Why am I not surprized?
Monday, March 7, 2011
Barging up the Zuari river - the loading site
In spite of our somewhat slow progress upriver, the loading site is not really crowded when "Nitya Sushil" arrives in the early afternoon.
As soon as the first mate has finished the slow, but elegant "elephant-dance manoeuvre" of turning the old lady around, our main activities for the next few hours consist of waiting, drinking tea and watching newcomers arrive. The turning operation is based on three important steps: (1) Run her up against the riverside, (2) Tie her up to a convenient palm tree and (3) Let the wind do the hard work.
The site is basically a riverbend with a couple of ramps where trucks can dump the ore directly on-board the barges. And once the loading starts, and the iron dust starts drifting around, the whole thing is unexpectedly fast. Two trucks dumping alongside each other and a seemingly endless line of more trucks waiting. In not much more than an hour, the first barge is loaded and the next one can move in.
Darkness comes fast on these latitudes, and the foreign "stowaway" is not wanted on the pitch dark return trip downriver during the night. A taxi is organised out of the blue, and, at a somewhat elevated price due to a total lack of alternatives, the foreigner is returned to the comfort of a hot shower and a cold beer back in Vasco. A farewell to the crew, and the captain who, relaxing on the bridge, utters his second word of the day to me: "Goodbye"!
(And thanks to Prakash, my shipowning friend! I know you had to bend a few rules for me, but what have we got friends for? And, after all, this is India ...)
As soon as the first mate has finished the slow, but elegant "elephant-dance manoeuvre" of turning the old lady around, our main activities for the next few hours consist of waiting, drinking tea and watching newcomers arrive. The turning operation is based on three important steps: (1) Run her up against the riverside, (2) Tie her up to a convenient palm tree and (3) Let the wind do the hard work.
The site is basically a riverbend with a couple of ramps where trucks can dump the ore directly on-board the barges. And once the loading starts, and the iron dust starts drifting around, the whole thing is unexpectedly fast. Two trucks dumping alongside each other and a seemingly endless line of more trucks waiting. In not much more than an hour, the first barge is loaded and the next one can move in.
Darkness comes fast on these latitudes, and the foreign "stowaway" is not wanted on the pitch dark return trip downriver during the night. A taxi is organised out of the blue, and, at a somewhat elevated price due to a total lack of alternatives, the foreigner is returned to the comfort of a hot shower and a cold beer back in Vasco. A farewell to the crew, and the captain who, relaxing on the bridge, utters his second word of the day to me: "Goodbye"!
(And thanks to Prakash, my shipowning friend! I know you had to bend a few rules for me, but what have we got friends for? And, after all, this is India ...)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)