Showing posts with label bars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bars. Show all posts
September 28, 2011
November 21, 2010
October 25, 2010
August 11, 2010
June 11, 2010
World Cup Fever.
The excitement has been mounting for weeks and months, years even. And now after long last it is officially on!
Every four years the world comes together to celebrate the World Cup. This single event captivates more people around the globe than any other event in the world, sporting or otherwise. During the World Cup, people gather in large numbers to cheer for their heroes around televisions and transistor radios. While the settings vary from pubs to corporate boardrooms to thatched huts to flophouses, the excitement is the same. The setting for this year's tournament, South Africa, where apartheid was the law of the land until 1994, only adds to this year's heightened sense of celebration.
The First World Cup was played in Uruguay in 1930 to mark the country’s centennial. The hosts won beating their neighbors, Argentina 4 to 2. Since then, there have been 18 tournaments—1942 and 1946 were canceled on account of larger global concerns—and only seven countries have ever won. The Germans have won the World Cup three times (1954, 1974, and 1990) and have been in more finals than anyone else. Brazil has won the title five times, more than any other nation, the current runner-up is Italy with four titles, they are in fact the defending champion of this year's tournament. The best the US has ever done was in the first tournament in 1930, where they came in 3rd.
The author of the blog "Stuff White People Like" jokes that part of the excitement for Americans is that this world event allows them "to pretend they are European for a few weeks, and more importantly, it allows them to get drunk at odd hours." Yes indeed, that may be part of the fun. But the importance of the game surely transcends beyond the ability to drink Brazilian caprihinas at early morning hours without a sense of shame while watching Brazil take on their next opponent.
It has long been recognized that the World Cup is about a whole lot more than just soccer. For most people around the globe, these players are more than just showstoppers -- they are gods. And they enjoy the personality cult and salaries to match. In fact, some call it the "most important sport in history," and the numbers are telling of its elevated importance.
It has been estimated that more than 715 million people watched the cup final in 2006, notably 10 times the number of people who watched the Super Bowl that year. Known as a "lingua franca," for most nations around the world, the game becomes an expression of national identity, in fact, 204 nations tried to qualify for 32 spots in this year’s World Cup, while there are only 192 states in the United Nations. This startling statistic is in part fueled by examples like this: the British use it as an excuse to dissolve their union and play as four countries: England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland.
Despite the astronomical salaries of football’s greatest stars and the marketing and manufacturing of the whole sport, there is a powerful link between the boys kicking a ball around on the beach to the stars in the stadium, in a way no other sport can claim. There is a purity at the heart of the game, especially as players rarely come from the middle classes, rather their heartlands are the slums and shantytowns, the favelas and the mean backstreets.
But perhaps the real reason people get so engulfed into the World Cup every four years, is because countries seem to play in line their national identities as though these often referenced stereotypes are sewn into their uniforms. The stereotypes live large and provide much fodder to the bar banter.
An excerpt from the Vanity Fair's "authority" on football claims the following (note - this information has neither been confirmed, nor denied in other credible sources):
“The Germans are disciplined, ruthless, and relentless, always with a huge impenetrable goalkeeper. The Italians are vicious, vocal, and cheat. It was an Italian who provoked the Algerian-French Zinedine Zidane to a reactionary foul in the 2006 final by telling him that his sister was a prostitute. This is typically Italian. The Argentines, who are half Italian, play much the same way. The French are terribly inconsistent: one moment glorious and attractive, the next petulant and confused. Portugal and Spain are Europe’s underachievers. In America, “soccer” is still considered a children’s game in many respects, so they are still in the process of growing up. African football is marvelously exciting. No African country has ever gotten past the quarter finals, but they play with eager, individualistic enthusiasm, often without any apparent defensive strategy.”
For the June issue of Vanity Fair, Annie Leibovitz set out to capture some of soccer's biggest stars, including Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo, Ivory Coast’s Didier Drogba, Cameroon’s Samuel Eto’o, Ghana’s Sulley Muntari, the U.S.A.’s Landon Donovan, Brazil’s Kaká and Pato, Italy’s Gianluigi Buffon, Serbia’s Dejan Stankovic, England’s Carlton Cole, and Germany’s Michael Ballack.
Yum. Annie’s revealing portraits make it easier to decide where your patriotic allegiances may lie.
And as always in the interest of remaining balanced, here is some eye candy for those of a different persuasion.
South Africa opens the World Cup against Mexico on June 11, as is tradition for the host nation's team. Must-see games include England vs. U.S.A. (June 12) as well as matches within the so-called Group of Death—Ivory Coast vs. Portugal (June 15), Brazil vs. Ivory Coast (June 20), Portugal vs. Brazil (June 25).
Let the games (and bar banter!) begin.
----
References:
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2010/05/world-cup-cover-story.html
Photo Credits:
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2010/05/world-cup-cover-story.html
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/fairplay/2010/06/footie-booty-sex-and-the-world-cup.html
Every four years the world comes together to celebrate the World Cup. This single event captivates more people around the globe than any other event in the world, sporting or otherwise. During the World Cup, people gather in large numbers to cheer for their heroes around televisions and transistor radios. While the settings vary from pubs to corporate boardrooms to thatched huts to flophouses, the excitement is the same. The setting for this year's tournament, South Africa, where apartheid was the law of the land until 1994, only adds to this year's heightened sense of celebration.
The First World Cup was played in Uruguay in 1930 to mark the country’s centennial. The hosts won beating their neighbors, Argentina 4 to 2. Since then, there have been 18 tournaments—1942 and 1946 were canceled on account of larger global concerns—and only seven countries have ever won. The Germans have won the World Cup three times (1954, 1974, and 1990) and have been in more finals than anyone else. Brazil has won the title five times, more than any other nation, the current runner-up is Italy with four titles, they are in fact the defending champion of this year's tournament. The best the US has ever done was in the first tournament in 1930, where they came in 3rd.
The author of the blog "Stuff White People Like" jokes that part of the excitement for Americans is that this world event allows them "to pretend they are European for a few weeks, and more importantly, it allows them to get drunk at odd hours." Yes indeed, that may be part of the fun. But the importance of the game surely transcends beyond the ability to drink Brazilian caprihinas at early morning hours without a sense of shame while watching Brazil take on their next opponent.
It has long been recognized that the World Cup is about a whole lot more than just soccer. For most people around the globe, these players are more than just showstoppers -- they are gods. And they enjoy the personality cult and salaries to match. In fact, some call it the "most important sport in history," and the numbers are telling of its elevated importance.
It has been estimated that more than 715 million people watched the cup final in 2006, notably 10 times the number of people who watched the Super Bowl that year. Known as a "lingua franca," for most nations around the world, the game becomes an expression of national identity, in fact, 204 nations tried to qualify for 32 spots in this year’s World Cup, while there are only 192 states in the United Nations. This startling statistic is in part fueled by examples like this: the British use it as an excuse to dissolve their union and play as four countries: England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland.
Despite the astronomical salaries of football’s greatest stars and the marketing and manufacturing of the whole sport, there is a powerful link between the boys kicking a ball around on the beach to the stars in the stadium, in a way no other sport can claim. There is a purity at the heart of the game, especially as players rarely come from the middle classes, rather their heartlands are the slums and shantytowns, the favelas and the mean backstreets.
But perhaps the real reason people get so engulfed into the World Cup every four years, is because countries seem to play in line their national identities as though these often referenced stereotypes are sewn into their uniforms. The stereotypes live large and provide much fodder to the bar banter.
An excerpt from the Vanity Fair's "authority" on football claims the following (note - this information has neither been confirmed, nor denied in other credible sources):
“The Germans are disciplined, ruthless, and relentless, always with a huge impenetrable goalkeeper. The Italians are vicious, vocal, and cheat. It was an Italian who provoked the Algerian-French Zinedine Zidane to a reactionary foul in the 2006 final by telling him that his sister was a prostitute. This is typically Italian. The Argentines, who are half Italian, play much the same way. The French are terribly inconsistent: one moment glorious and attractive, the next petulant and confused. Portugal and Spain are Europe’s underachievers. In America, “soccer” is still considered a children’s game in many respects, so they are still in the process of growing up. African football is marvelously exciting. No African country has ever gotten past the quarter finals, but they play with eager, individualistic enthusiasm, often without any apparent defensive strategy.”
For the June issue of Vanity Fair, Annie Leibovitz set out to capture some of soccer's biggest stars, including Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo, Ivory Coast’s Didier Drogba, Cameroon’s Samuel Eto’o, Ghana’s Sulley Muntari, the U.S.A.’s Landon Donovan, Brazil’s Kaká and Pato, Italy’s Gianluigi Buffon, Serbia’s Dejan Stankovic, England’s Carlton Cole, and Germany’s Michael Ballack.
And as always in the interest of remaining balanced, here is some eye candy for those of a different persuasion.
Let the games (and bar banter!) begin.
----
References:
http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2010/05/world-cup-cover-story.html
Photo Credits:
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/daily/2010/05/world-cup-cover-story.html
http://www.vanityfair.com/online/fairplay/2010/06/footie-booty-sex-and-the-world-cup.html
June 1, 2010
The Right Tools for the Job.
One billion people around the globe do it. And more and more people join them each day.
I am talking about smoking. The negative effects of smoking and tobacco use are indisputable -- smoking kills. It causes cancer. It causes emphysema. It causes heart attacks. It causes increased blood pressure and heart rate. It causes adverse reproductive outcomes. During pregnancy, it decreases gestational age at birth and decreases birth weight. Sincerely, the list goes on and on and on.
Tobacco is the only legal consumer product in the world that kills when used exactly as intended by the manufacturer. In fact, there are more than 4000 chemicals in tobacco smoke, of which at least 250 are known to be harmful and more than 50 are known to cause cancer.
Despite this knowledge, the effects of this addictive habit are staggering. Smoking-related illnesses claim more American lives than alcohol, car accidents, suicide, AIDS, homicide, and illegal drugs, combined. Globally, tobacco kills more than five million people a year, or an average of one person every six seconds. Smoking accounts for one in every 10 adult deaths. Smokers enjoy a 50-50 chance that they will eventually die of a tobacco-related disease, that is, if they are not killed by a bus or in a freak accident otherwise. The annual death toll is projected to rise to eight million by 2030 barring effective controls to stem the global tobacco "epidemic." In sum, tobacco use is one of the biggest public health threats the world has ever faced.
To confront these harrowing statistics, the World Health Organization adopted the global Framework Convention on Tobacco Control in 2003, which has since become one of the most widely embraced treaties in UN history with 168 country signatory parties. Yesterday, May 31st, commemorated World No Tobacco Day, one among many days designated by the organization to bring global focus and attention to a particular health issue. As its name indicates, the goal of World No Tobacco Day is to bring global awareness to the problem of tobacco use and to encourage users to quit.
Nice idea, but here is what they are up against.
Despite indisputable proof that smoking kills, World Health Organization studies show that few people truly understand the specific health risks of tobacco use or know that it even holds negative health consequences at all. While numbers of tobacco users in high-income and upper middle-income countries continue to decrease, where presumably knowledge of these latent risks is more generalized, total consumption of tobacco products continues to increase in other parts of the globe. More than 80% of the world's one billion smokers live in low-and middle-income countries, where very little knowledge exists about the inherent dangers of smoking, and accordingly, the burden of tobacco-related illness and death is the heaviest. As if an example is needed of the dangers of people being wholly unaware of the negative health consequences of using or smoking tobacco, a video surfaced last week on the UK Sun's website of a reporter's footage of an "addicted" cigarette smoking 2 year old in a Sumtran village in Indonesia. First introduced to this habit by his father at the young age of 18 months, this toddler now allegedly smokes up to 40 cigarettes a day (ie: close to two packs). His addiction manifests in angry burst of screaming and hitting his head against a wall, when cigarettes are withheld from him by his parents.
As the Salon's Mary Elizabeth Williams rightly points out, while a "child's welfare is still first and foremost his parents' responsibility," perhaps those of us in the western world who know better should not "get comfortable in the knowledge that we'd never even expose our own babies to cigarettes, let alone hand them a pack," but rather "redirect a little of that indignation toward a profitable industry that's worked so hard to pour smoke down those little lungs." I concur. But also, I reserve some of my sense of indignation over this story towards public policy and civic leaders lacking the vision and political will to utilize the arsenal of tools available and proven effective in curbing rates of tobacco usage.
It is now widely accepted as fact that there is no safe level of second-hand tobacco smoke. Under the guiding ethos that every person should be able to breathe smoke-free air (as well as adding an extra hurdle to smokers partaking in this habit themselves), there was a recent title wave of smoke-free laws to protect the health of non-smokers in many American and European cities, including the recent extension of these indoor smoking prohibitions in bars (gasp!). It felt like a step back in time to land in Dar es Salaam where there are no such prohibitions to smoking in bars and restaurants. Unfortunately, this is more the rule than the exception. Globally, only 5.4% of people are protected by comprehensive national smoke-free laws. Of the 100 most populous cities only 22 are smoke free. This is a sad demonstration of public policy leadership, given that second-hand smoke causes 600,000 premature deaths per year, and what's more depressing, in 2004, children accounted for 28% of the deaths attributable to second-hand smoke.
Beyond this unwelcome second-hand smoke when enjoying a cocktail, I was shocked to learn how cheap cigarettes are here. Following cigarette packs with an average price tag well over US$8 in most American cities, a pack of cigarettes here runs under US$2. It is proven that tobacco taxes are the most effective way to reduce tobacco use, especially among young people and poor people (dare I remind you Tanzania is one of the poorest countries in the world). A tax policy that increases tobacco prices by 10% decreases tobacco consumption by about 4% in high-income countries and by up to 8% in low- and middle-income countries. In other words, a "vice tax" is an effective way to curb usage rates. Only 21 countries, representing 6.2% of the world's population, have tobacco tax rates greater than 75% of the retail price. Shockingly, in countries with available information, tobacco tax revenues are 173 times higher than spending on tobacco control.
Hard-hitting anti-tobacco advertisements and graphic pack warnings reduce the number of children who begin smoking and increase the number of smokers who quit. Following the use of pictorial warnings in Brazil, Canada, Singapore, and Thailand, studies consistently demonstrated the use of these pictures significantly increased people's awareness of the harms of tobacco use. Despite proof that pictures are more powerful deterrents than words on tobacco packaging warnings, only 19 countries, representing 24% of the world’s population, mandate pictorial warnings. Just 15 countries, representing 7.6% of the world's population, meet the highest standards for pictorial warnings, which dictate that these color warnings cover at least half of both the front and back of cigarette packs. Bans on tobacco advertising, promotion, and sponsorship are also proven to reduce tobacco consumption. Only 26 countries, representing 8.8% of the world’s population, have comprehensive national bans on tobacco advertising, promotion and sponsorship, and moreover, 27% of the world's population live in countries that do not ban free distribution of tobacco products.
Those that are aware of health risks related to tobacco use, usually state their intention and desire to quit. Where this is the case, counseling and medication doubles the chance that a "quitting" smoker will succeed. However, national comprehensive health-care services supporting cessation are available in only 17 countries, or rather, are only available to 8.2% of the world's population. There is no cessation assistance at all in 29% of low-income countries and 8% of middle-income countries.
This year's World No Tobacco Day was focused on gender and tobacco, using the day to draw particular attention to the harmful effects of tobacco marketing and smoke on women and girls. To curb the "sex" appeal of industry advertising, the World Health Organization developed a series promotional and educative posters aimed at debunking this perception. While creative and slick, I am not sure these anti-smoking advertisements stand a chance against the powerful promotional advertisements of the tobacco industry.
---
References:
http://www.mediaforfreedom.com/readarticle.php?AID=16880
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F8GGfpZFmwc
http://www.salon.com/life/feature/2010/05/27/smoking_toddler_outrage/index.html
http://www.stop-smoking-tips.com/dangers-smoking.html
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/factsheets/fs339/en/index.html
http://www.who.int/mediacentre/news/releases/2009/no_tobacco_day_20090529/en/index.html
May 27, 2010
I heart Dar es Salaam.
Andrei returned this week after a month on the road fulfilling his dutiful and newfound role as an international development consultant. I naively thought that his move to Tanzania would effectively put to an end such extended lengths of time apart on account of work, but alas it seems we have signed up for a lifetime of this, barring a radical career move on both our parts, which seems unlikely at best, at least in the near term future.
I have always found myself experiencing bouts of loneliness when Andrei is away for such great lengths, but also, I find that I appreciate the time to focus on myself and enjoy these stretches as periods of self-imposed “hibernation.” In his month’s long absence, I managed to discover a new gym and develop a new routine around step aerobics, I “toured” Mikumi National Park and caught a welcome glimpse of life outside of Dar, I read three books, I learned to drive in Dar es Salaam and learned how to change the engine oil in our “new-to-us” RAV4, I learned how to bet on racing goats, and I indulged regular invites to work as crew on sailing boats and snorkel and swim in the Indian Ocean.
Despite the excitement and whirlwind activity described above, I experienced a great deal of idle time and (rather embarrassingly) filled this void by indulging a long held guilty pleasure – back to back episodes of Sex and the City. This three season binge culminated with the last episode in Season 4 entitled “I heart NY,” which struck me as oddly coincidental following my recent blog post entitled the very same.
Feeling particularly restless following this episode, I stepped outside onto our terrace overlooking the Indian Ocean to catch a breath of fresh air and finish my glass of less than impressive South African Sauvignon Blanc. Our terrace was flooded with light from the almost full moon. Despite the moon’s fullness, the stars were bright and vivid, almost 3-D in appearance, pulsing in the sky. I then noticed several unidentifiable shapes in the water below. It seems too many episodes of Sex and the City got the better of me, at first I confused the shadowy figures in the water for a young, breathless couple making out, only to realize instead, that these were two local fishermen casting their fishing nets. As I watched them lay their nets in perfectly formed co-centric circles, the fact that this was surely back-breaking and tireless work momentarily escaped me, rather it all appeared romantic and dreamy from the distance off our balcony. The sound of the tide coming in and the breaking waves on the shoreline was only eclipsed by the sound of the low-flying KLM flight from Amsterdam landing in DAR like clockwork at 11:30pm.
While I “heart” NY, it can wait. I have no doubt I will live there at some point in my life. Right now, I “heart” Dar es Salaam. I still have much to learn here, and am only now beginning to overcome some of the initial shock and steep learning curves that inevitably come with the process of learning to call a new place home, especially one that is so free of any influences from the place you otherwise know as home.
Prior to our move here, a good friend who received his terminal degree in Anthropology warned, you will be surprised to find yourself in a place that is so free of American influences. He and I had formed a friendship and developed a bond by sharing stories of our travels in Honduras, he as a PhD candidate conducting his field research in the Bay Islands of Honduras in the late 1970s, me nearly 25 years later as a Peace Corps volunteer. Honduras is a country that seems wholly unable to escape the influence of the United States, thanks in part to the Monroe Doctrine, a foreign policy introduced in 1823 that essentially remains “in tact” nearly two centuries later.
Tanzania, by comparison, seems far removed from the grips of American influence. Surely there are signs of it here and there, but beyond the world of foreign assistance and international aid, you really must dig deep to find compelling signs of America’s influence here. While news of Africa barely reaches the United States, the news we receive is decidedly Africa-centric (thank you BBC World Service). The United States, long complacent in its role as the world’s sole hegemony, is quickly being usurped by the Indians, who are undeniably the heart and soul of the Tanzanian business community, and the Chinese, who are pouring money into this country in the form of infrastructure investments and in turn paving the way for formidable economic advancements in their interest. The music on the streets is of a self-described “bongo-flavor” with American music only sprinkled in on the rare occasion for other “flavor.” An American manufactured car is a rare sight on the streets here, while Toyota seems to have an almost exclusive agreement with the car dealers of Dar. Similarly, while in Central America public transit often takes the form of American yellow school bus cast-offs, here the fleets of dala-dalas crawling through the slogs of traffic are almost exclusively the hand-me-downs of larger Asia cities.
Despite this, it was only yesterday that my friend’s insights really hit home, when I learned not only that there was sequel of a Sex and the City in the works, but that it is scheduled to open in theatres today! The media coverage casually asserted, “No matter who you are, where you're from, or if you've got two X chromosomes or just one, chances are you've probably heard about the imminent release of Sex and the City 2,” further yet, “With all the hype surrounding Sex And The City 2, you'd have to be living in Antarctica if you didn't know it's opening.” Or Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.
---
References and Photo Credits:
http://wonderwomanvee.wordpress.com/2009/09/02/excited-com-sex-and-the-city-2/
http://www.filmofilia.com/2009/12/10/sex-and-the-city-2-poster/
http://www.refinery29.com/spolier-alert-satcii-is-low-on-plot-high-on-fashion.php
http://www.refinery29.com/the-tackiest-sex-and-the-city-products.php
http://www.filmofilia.com/2009/12/24/first-sex-and-the-city-2-trailer/
http://www.filmofilia.com/2010/03/11/8-new-sex-and-the-city-2-photos/
I have always found myself experiencing bouts of loneliness when Andrei is away for such great lengths, but also, I find that I appreciate the time to focus on myself and enjoy these stretches as periods of self-imposed “hibernation.” In his month’s long absence, I managed to discover a new gym and develop a new routine around step aerobics, I “toured” Mikumi National Park and caught a welcome glimpse of life outside of Dar, I read three books, I learned to drive in Dar es Salaam and learned how to change the engine oil in our “new-to-us” RAV4, I learned how to bet on racing goats, and I indulged regular invites to work as crew on sailing boats and snorkel and swim in the Indian Ocean.
Despite the excitement and whirlwind activity described above, I experienced a great deal of idle time and (rather embarrassingly) filled this void by indulging a long held guilty pleasure – back to back episodes of Sex and the City. This three season binge culminated with the last episode in Season 4 entitled “I heart NY,” which struck me as oddly coincidental following my recent blog post entitled the very same.
Feeling particularly restless following this episode, I stepped outside onto our terrace overlooking the Indian Ocean to catch a breath of fresh air and finish my glass of less than impressive South African Sauvignon Blanc. Our terrace was flooded with light from the almost full moon. Despite the moon’s fullness, the stars were bright and vivid, almost 3-D in appearance, pulsing in the sky. I then noticed several unidentifiable shapes in the water below. It seems too many episodes of Sex and the City got the better of me, at first I confused the shadowy figures in the water for a young, breathless couple making out, only to realize instead, that these were two local fishermen casting their fishing nets. As I watched them lay their nets in perfectly formed co-centric circles, the fact that this was surely back-breaking and tireless work momentarily escaped me, rather it all appeared romantic and dreamy from the distance off our balcony. The sound of the tide coming in and the breaking waves on the shoreline was only eclipsed by the sound of the low-flying KLM flight from Amsterdam landing in DAR like clockwork at 11:30pm.
While I “heart” NY, it can wait. I have no doubt I will live there at some point in my life. Right now, I “heart” Dar es Salaam. I still have much to learn here, and am only now beginning to overcome some of the initial shock and steep learning curves that inevitably come with the process of learning to call a new place home, especially one that is so free of any influences from the place you otherwise know as home.
Prior to our move here, a good friend who received his terminal degree in Anthropology warned, you will be surprised to find yourself in a place that is so free of American influences. He and I had formed a friendship and developed a bond by sharing stories of our travels in Honduras, he as a PhD candidate conducting his field research in the Bay Islands of Honduras in the late 1970s, me nearly 25 years later as a Peace Corps volunteer. Honduras is a country that seems wholly unable to escape the influence of the United States, thanks in part to the Monroe Doctrine, a foreign policy introduced in 1823 that essentially remains “in tact” nearly two centuries later.
Tanzania, by comparison, seems far removed from the grips of American influence. Surely there are signs of it here and there, but beyond the world of foreign assistance and international aid, you really must dig deep to find compelling signs of America’s influence here. While news of Africa barely reaches the United States, the news we receive is decidedly Africa-centric (thank you BBC World Service). The United States, long complacent in its role as the world’s sole hegemony, is quickly being usurped by the Indians, who are undeniably the heart and soul of the Tanzanian business community, and the Chinese, who are pouring money into this country in the form of infrastructure investments and in turn paving the way for formidable economic advancements in their interest. The music on the streets is of a self-described “bongo-flavor” with American music only sprinkled in on the rare occasion for other “flavor.” An American manufactured car is a rare sight on the streets here, while Toyota seems to have an almost exclusive agreement with the car dealers of Dar. Similarly, while in Central America public transit often takes the form of American yellow school bus cast-offs, here the fleets of dala-dalas crawling through the slogs of traffic are almost exclusively the hand-me-downs of larger Asia cities.
Despite this, it was only yesterday that my friend’s insights really hit home, when I learned not only that there was sequel of a Sex and the City in the works, but that it is scheduled to open in theatres today! The media coverage casually asserted, “No matter who you are, where you're from, or if you've got two X chromosomes or just one, chances are you've probably heard about the imminent release of Sex and the City 2,” further yet, “With all the hype surrounding Sex And The City 2, you'd have to be living in Antarctica if you didn't know it's opening.” Or Dar es Salaam, Tanzania.
---
References and Photo Credits:
http://wonderwomanvee.wordpress.com/2009/09/02/excited-com-sex-and-the-city-2/
http://www.filmofilia.com/2009/12/10/sex-and-the-city-2-poster/
http://www.refinery29.com/spolier-alert-satcii-is-low-on-plot-high-on-fashion.php
http://www.refinery29.com/the-tackiest-sex-and-the-city-products.php
http://www.filmofilia.com/2009/12/24/first-sex-and-the-city-2-trailer/
http://www.filmofilia.com/2010/03/11/8-new-sex-and-the-city-2-photos/
April 27, 2010
The Soul of Corsica in the Heart of Tanzania.
The word is out. It is good. Different. And the Mzungu four wheel drive vehicles have come in droves to check it out.
“It,” of course, refers to the brand new restaurant, Le Corsica, that has opened next door to our apartment building here in Dar es Salaam. Not just any restaurant, but a Corsican Restaurant, not to be confused with a French restaurant.
It is a joint father-son venture. They came here seeking adventure. A likely story with an unlikely twist. Let’s be honest boredom and restlessness are often the basic ingredients for adventure-seeking, but to Tanzania?! They tended bar under someone else’s dime for a combined 33 years, give or take a few. The owner wanted out, but the price tag he offered to formally appropriate the bar as their own proved steep. Too steep. So instead they packed up, and braved the shores beyond Corsica for the first time in their lives. Their schemes to make money and support themselves upon arrival in Tanzania were many and varied. Finally, they decided their most fitting course of action would be to offer the best of Corsican cuisine to hungry, wanting, and eager customers, read: ex-pats with a couple of Tanzanian Indians thrown in here and there for good measure.
The music is atmospheric. The food quickly shames any self-pronounced “good cook,” or anyone foolish enough to claim they put to best use local food stuffs available here. The flavors are simple and delicate. There is no fuss about it.
So what’s with all of the ex-pat fuss about it? The other night, we met a friend and her husband, parents to two young children, at Le Corsica. By the time we arrived she was on her second cocktail and had breezed through half a pack of cigarettes. “I don’t smoke usually," she said, “only when I socialize – we are just so excited to try a new place.” Another friend, who we introduced to the place, stopped conversation mid-stream to ask, “Wait a minute, are we even in Dar es Salaam anymore?” Over gmail chat, I was asked, “Have you heard of the new place?” Some other friends reported, we will certainly be back. Admittedly, we are the first among them, gushing with excitement over a new, different place. They opened the bar first. The bartender knew our drink of choice and counted us among his established regulars before food was even introduced into the restaurant.
In a world of limited options, the introduction of something new appears to drive people into a frenzy-like state, and everyone is quick to claim ownership of its discovery. By comparison, Dar es Salaam makes Washington, DC feel like New York City. Yet, interestingly, in our former DC-based world where we were bombarded with options, we often opted to circle through the same handful of places, and never really felt at a loss about not trying the newest, latest scene. And now of course, we find ourselves craving the multitude of options we once had access to. Go figure.
“It,” of course, refers to the brand new restaurant, Le Corsica, that has opened next door to our apartment building here in Dar es Salaam. Not just any restaurant, but a Corsican Restaurant, not to be confused with a French restaurant.
It is a joint father-son venture. They came here seeking adventure. A likely story with an unlikely twist. Let’s be honest boredom and restlessness are often the basic ingredients for adventure-seeking, but to Tanzania?! They tended bar under someone else’s dime for a combined 33 years, give or take a few. The owner wanted out, but the price tag he offered to formally appropriate the bar as their own proved steep. Too steep. So instead they packed up, and braved the shores beyond Corsica for the first time in their lives. Their schemes to make money and support themselves upon arrival in Tanzania were many and varied. Finally, they decided their most fitting course of action would be to offer the best of Corsican cuisine to hungry, wanting, and eager customers, read: ex-pats with a couple of Tanzanian Indians thrown in here and there for good measure.
The music is atmospheric. The food quickly shames any self-pronounced “good cook,” or anyone foolish enough to claim they put to best use local food stuffs available here. The flavors are simple and delicate. There is no fuss about it.
So what’s with all of the ex-pat fuss about it? The other night, we met a friend and her husband, parents to two young children, at Le Corsica. By the time we arrived she was on her second cocktail and had breezed through half a pack of cigarettes. “I don’t smoke usually," she said, “only when I socialize – we are just so excited to try a new place.” Another friend, who we introduced to the place, stopped conversation mid-stream to ask, “Wait a minute, are we even in Dar es Salaam anymore?” Over gmail chat, I was asked, “Have you heard of the new place?” Some other friends reported, we will certainly be back. Admittedly, we are the first among them, gushing with excitement over a new, different place. They opened the bar first. The bartender knew our drink of choice and counted us among his established regulars before food was even introduced into the restaurant.
In a world of limited options, the introduction of something new appears to drive people into a frenzy-like state, and everyone is quick to claim ownership of its discovery. By comparison, Dar es Salaam makes Washington, DC feel like New York City. Yet, interestingly, in our former DC-based world where we were bombarded with options, we often opted to circle through the same handful of places, and never really felt at a loss about not trying the newest, latest scene. And now of course, we find ourselves craving the multitude of options we once had access to. Go figure.
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