Excuse me sir, I'd like to trade in Santa Claus for the real thing

When I was younger, I hated Christmas. First of all, we had no family in Canada and second of all, in the years following my parents’ divorce, it seemed like my parents’ “friends” all decided that it was too awkward to invite us over because they didn’t want to choose sides. I think mom and I spent nearly a decade of Christmases alone, just the two of us. Some years, we prepared a turkey, some years, we give each other presents. But each year, I dreaded the 25th, and wished with all my might to fall asleep on the 24th and wake up on the 26th so that we can hit up the malls for the deals.

I know lots of people must feel the same way about Christmas, or even more strongly about it than me. Christmas as it exists now is an empty, albeit sparkly, shell; a faint shadow of the original intended glorious celebration. The first Christmas wasn’t about turkey, eggnog, sleigh bells, and especially not about psychotic materialism and parents feeling the need to spend hundreds to dollars to win the love of their ever-increasingly ungrateful children.

What disturbs me the most is how the original Christmas story has been systematically replaced with a story about a sleigh pulled by flying reindeers, and a fat man of nordic-descent showering “nice” boys and girls with all the presents that their little hearts desire. Presents that will probably lay at the wayside (or heaven-forbid in a landfill) in a couple of months; presents that were probably made by young people in developing countries who are paid a few measly dollars a day, and who have never heard of Christmas.

The original Christmas was about God choosing to enter into mankind and live among us during a dark and scary time in our history. He chose to be born as a vulnerable baby, to a couple of modest means. While Mary was pregnant, she and Joseph had to travel on foot and by a donkey, for months through tortuous terrain to get to their hometown of Bethlehem to be counted in a mandatory census. By the time they got there, the entire town was full and Mary was forced to give birth in a stable among horses and asses, manure and straw. God, the Almighty, surely arrived into the world under humble circumstances. Why? What for? But this was only the beginning…

In the next three decades, this little baby would grow up to become one of the world's most popular and controversial prophet and teacher, who taught and lived out his message of love, mercy, hope and peace. Supposedly he worked miracles, healed the blind, the deaf, and the lame. Supposedly he showered compassion and love onto the rejects of society and rejected the religious institutions and rhetoric of the time. Supposedly he claimed to be God; that he was God’s love manifested, and that through him, all people will come to know the truth and finally be at peace with their Creator and with each other. His message was one of hope, compassion, redemption, forgiveness and peace. The life and ministry of Jesus was the ultimate example of a life well-lived with God and of self-less generosity and service to fellow men.

Two thousand years later, the world is still a dark, wretched and scary place for many of us here and especially in other parts of the world. The world is still filled with violence, persecution, poverty, and excruciating loneliness. Santa Claus only cares about whether you’ve been naughty or nice, but the story of Jesus might actually provide a glimmer of hope for those of us yearning for more joy, peace and especially meaning to our lives.


Hark the herald angels sing "Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled"
Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:"Christ is born in Bethlehem"
Hark! The herald angels sing"Glory to the newborn King!"

Christ by highest heav'n adored, Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come, Offspring of a Virgin's womb
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see, Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell, Jesus, our Emmanuel
Hark! The herald angels sing"Glory to the newborn King!"

Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace! Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings, Ris'n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth, Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing"Glory to the newborn King!"

I press on towards the prize

The honeymoon is over, the euphoria has worn off, reality is setting in.  No, I am not talking about Obama becoming president, I'm talking about grad school.   At the beginning of September, I was feeling 80% excitement, 10% fear and 10% anxiety.  Now the latter two emotions have essentially displaced the first and my excitement solely resides in the anticipation for the semester to end.  

The only thing that's getting between me and carefree frolic in my winter E-town (albeit snowless) wonderland is three action-packed weeks filled with 4 exams,  1 take home final, 2 group papers and a presentation.  It's not even the final exams that I'm worry about it.  It's the wrapping up of loose ends on these group projects that just never seem to end.  

[On a side note, today I had a regrettable incident, where I called up a team mate whom I felt like was not putting in their fair share of the work. To make the story short, I think I sounded like a whiny, immature a%$ on the phone.  I don't know what happened.  Between me trying to formulate a mature expression of grievance and them picking up the other line, my carefully thought out sentences spewed out of my mouth as typical female, passive-aggressive, verbal diarrhea.  Okay, I might have exaggerated a bit.  It probably wasn't that bad.  Either way, that individual didn't seem to react too badly to my stressed out comments and promised to shape up and contribute their part ASAP.  Uggh! Situations like this are so humbling and make me realize how much wisdom I lack and how much grace I need everyday.]

So back to the tying up of loose ends.  I've had similar experiences in undergrad near the end of each semesters, where I just feel like "I'm not going to maaaaake it.  I'm not gonnnna maaaake it!"  But lo and behold, everything always gets finished in due time, and in some instance, literally minutes before it's due.  

Okay, I promise to not complain anymore about this.  Really, I won't.  Grad school is awesome and I would not want to be doing anything else right now.  At times like these, you gotta fix your eyes on the prize. 

Safer Southside

Yesterday morning as I was standing in the bus shelter, waiting for my proletariat chariot to come whisk me off to school, I was met by two native ladies, who were also trying to escape the chilly October morning wind. They were chatting and joking, pointing at their two guy buddies across the street who were picking through the dump at the McDonald's and asserting their good fortune that they get to skip out on the pickin' for a few hours.

One of the lady's then started to pinch and pull at the stretchy fabric of her skin-tight jeans, ones she had likely received from a shelter, and she uttered, "Man, these pants are ridiculous." At this point I felt compelled to join in on the fun and exclaimed "They're skinny jeans; it's what all the cool kids are wearing." "Is that right eh?", she chuckled. With this one silly comment, I successfully got my foot in the conversational door, and for the next 10 minute I actually learned quite a bit about them.

Both of the ladies are homeless and actually live and sleep just a stone's throw away from my apartment. They said they love the south side and how it's so much safer and how they don't have to worry about getting robbed or stabbed. "Oh, the people are really nice and there's way more respect around here". Yes, she actually said respect. I felt a sense of pride in knowing that people in our neighbourhood had treated them respectfully, even if in some cases, the respect was just a facade. Most people don't even bother to hide their fear and contempt of street people.

I also inquired about which reserves they came from. One is from Saddle Lake and the other from Hobbema. Both haven't lived on the reserves in years. Their comments were, "The reserves are terrible", "Worst than living in the inner city", and "It's so much better to be homeless in the city than to stay there." Can life on the reserves really be worst than life on the streets? How and when did reservation communities become so broken?

At this point in the conversation, the bus pulled up, and for some reason I didn't say "goodbye" and "have a nice day" because I thought I'd get to sit by them. But I ended up sitting near the back while they stayed at the front. Even so, I could still hear their cheerful chatter and the occasional eruption of hearty laughter. Their joy was touching and invigorating amongst a bus full of somber, frowny and sleepy post-secondary students.  I sure hope that I will get to see these neighbours of mine again some day soon.

Distorted world

Lately, I've been attending classes and conferences where presenters have been showing distorted world maps like this one,

1.

and this one,

2. 

and this, one.

3.

The above maps are called equal area cartograms, also known as density-equality maps.  Each of these cartograms shows resized territories (countries in this case) according to the variable being mapped.  

For the first map, the variable represented is total population.  The size of each country shows the relative proportion of the world's population living there. Can you guess the variables presented in the 2nd and 3rd cartograms?

Answers:  

For the 2nd cartogram, the size of each country shows the proportion of worldwide net imports of meat (in US$) that are received there.  Since it is only showing net import, countries that export more meat than they import shrink to nothing.

The third cartogram shows the proportion of all people aged 15 to 49 who are living with HIV in each country.

There are over 600 cartograms available at www.worldmapper.org and the categories range from religion, politics and education to natural disasters, violence and cause of death. I guarantee that there will be a variable or two that is of interest to you.  An excellent resource for enhancing presentations and generating dialogue. 

What's my race got's to do with it?

I'm one of those people who doesn't mind if someone asks "Are you Chinese?" or "What country are you from?" Although, typically when the second question is asked, depending on whom the inquirer is, I would reply "I'm Canadian", knowing fully well that they had meant my ethnic background. At this point I wait for them to follow up with "No, I meant where did your parents come from?" or "What asian country did your family originally come from?" I don't mind at all.  I get curious too and have often asked another those same questions.

However I do admit that I'm pretty particular about avoiding using the word "race". Though I'm not known for my political correctness, the very-Canadian side of me always shudders abit whenever I encounter this word, which has become frequent since I've begun my readings from my very-American epidemiology textbook. The numerous tables and figures in this textbook often categorizes health research results by age, gender, bmi and... race.

"Race" to me emphasizes physiological and genetic differences (may they be actual or perceived), and connotes superior vs. inferior, and divisiveness, while "ethnicity", which is what I'm more used to saying, connotes culture, heritage, and of course differences in physical traits; yet it seems to lack the air of prejudice that is typically associated with "race".  

To what extent is race a determinant of health compared to other socio-cultural-economic factors?

There have been various studies on breast cancer that have found higher rates of the cancer among white women and lower rates in blacks and hispanics.  Can these differences be attributed to race, or other factors known to be related to breast cancer like the number of children a woman has in their twenties, or the use of oral contraceptives.  Studies also show that whites have higher survival rates compared to blacks and hispanics.  Does that mean they are more resilient?  Nope.  It's because on average, a white person in the United States is more likely to have access to medicare, which leads to higher chances of early diagnosis, treatment and survival.

So maybe comparing race when conducting health research in a multicultural context is useful if you think of it as a sort of potpurri surrogate for socio-cultural-economic determinants.  

I think it's interesting that on an individual basis we must not generalize and stereotype a person based on the color of their skin, but at a population level, all is fair in epidemiology.       

The Earth Charter - A Global Covenant

Have you heard of the Earth Charter? I had only first heard about it 2 weeks ago in my Ethics and Sustainability course. First conceived for the Earth Summit in Rio de Janerio in 1992, formally launched in 2005, it has been referred to as “a landmark covenantal expression of he common principles for a just, sustainable, peaceful, and democratic world community”. (J.Ronald Engel, Ph.D, 2008)

PRINCIPLES OF THE EARTH CHARTER

I. RESPECT AND CARE FOR THE COMMUNITY OF LIFE

1. Respect Earth and life in all its diversity.
2. Care for the community of life with understanding, compassion, and love.
3. Build democratic societies that are just, participatory, sustainable, and peaceful.
4. Secure Earth's bounty and beauty for present and future generations.

II. ECOLOGICAL INTEGRITY

5. Protect and restore the integrity of Earth's ecological systems, with special concern for biological diversity and the natural processes that sustain life.
6. Prevent harm as the best method of environmental protection and, when knowledge is limited, apply a precautionary approach.
7. Adopt patterns of production, consumption, and reproduction that safeguard Earth's regenerative capacities, human rights, and community well-being.
8. Advance the study of ecological sustainability and promote the open exchange and wide application of the knowledge acquired.

III. SOCIAL AND ECONOMIC JUSTICE

9. Eradicate poverty as an ethical, social, and environmental imperative.
10. Ensure that economic activities and institutions at all levels promote human development in an equitable and sustainable manner.
11. Affirm gender equality and equity as prerequisites to sustainable development and ensure universal access to education, health care, and economic opportunity.
12. Uphold the right of all, without discrimination, to a natural and social environment supportive of human dignity, bodily health, and spiritual well-being, with special attention to the rights of indigenous peoples and minorities.

IV. DEMOCRACY, NONVIOLENCE, AND PEACE

13. Strengthen democratic institutions at all levels, and provide transparency and accountability in governance, inclusive participation in decision making, and access to justice.
14. Integrate into formal education and life-long learning the knowledge, values, and skills needed for a sustainable way of life.
15. Treat all living beings with respect and consideration.
16. Promote a culture of tolerance, nonviolence, and peace.

Lofty and utopic goals aren't they? Wouldn't we want to live in a world like the one described by the Charter? Yet we are so acclimatized to being in a world that's plagued by poverty, corruption and conflict (though none of it may directly impact us), that we are just too darn cynical to believe that these principles can be achieved. There is no denying that each of us have good intentions and believe ourselves to be good people, yet collectively the human race is so utterly messed up. I think mostly it's because of fear. We do nothing because of the mentality of “better them than us” and we're use to thinking: “doesn't someone have to be at the bottom?” Nevertheless, the Charter is calling all people and governments to commit to taking actions and enacting policies that align with this higher standard. The Charter is asking us to see ourselves are global citizens, and to recognize the moral and ethical obligations that we have to those within and outside of our national borders. You might have guessed now that my passions and values seem to align well with Part III of the Charter on social and economic justice.

People have asked me why I like working with people in “poor countries” and the best answer that I can give them is: “Well, if I were in their shoes, I would hope that there are people out there who would have the compassion to want to help me.” The Earth Charter might sound terribly political and redundant with its talk about participatory democratic, accountability, ecological integrity, etc., but the essential message it’s advocating is that we are all equal and everyone, especially those in developing countries, have just as much right to be treated justly, and to be freed from tyranny. They are not second-class citizens. They were not born to play the roles of slaves in our market economy (aka. neo-colonial system). We are not entitled to pillage as much as we'd like from their land and sea, simultaneously polluting it, just because we have the power to. We innately know these concepts to be true, even if the prevailing economic and political climate ignores it. Numerous organizations (i.e. UNESCO) and even several government ministries (i.e. Brazil, Mexico) have already made formal commitments to consider the Earth Charter in the development of their policies and programs. Lofty goals? Yes. But isn't it worth striving for, considering the billions of people who lack the voice and capacity to do it all on them own.

Humanity is something to be realized, not in each individual human being, but rather in communion between all humans” - (Charles Taylor, 1998)

6 months at the landfill

Today is my last full-day of work at the Edmonton Waste Management Centre, where I have been working as a Project Engineer on a temporary basis since this March. To be honest, it’s been difficult to explain to friends and acquaintances what it is that I actually do at the landfill. “Are you a garbage sorter? A litter picker-upper?” These frequent cheeky comments makes me want to literally whack them over the head with a piece of refuse, like maybe a greasy pizza box or perhaps a broken lamp shade, oh…wait…I think I just spotted an old pillow. By and large, the general public does not have a clue what happens to their garbage once it gets picked up from the curb and they really do not care to think about it.

There are two landfills, one private and one public, that serves the greater Edmonton area and both are running out of space. Even with the MRF, the recycling plant that sorts and processes recyclables from the blue bag program and the gargantuan indoor composter that turns residential waste and biosolids into useful, pathogen-free compost, the City still has to landfill over 400,000 tonnes of waste annually. Picture mountains of take-out containers, cheap, low-quality clothing, shoes and appliances that are made to break in a year, couches and mattresses, health care waste, etc. that can’t be recycled nor composted and needs to be buried in a giant man-made pit. The landfill is the final resting place for so much “stuff” that might have once been sought after, dearly cherished by its owners but now is rejected, and forsaken. Other waste coming from our ICI clients like home renovators, restaurants, 1-800-Got-Junk types of companies, and schools also goes straight to the mass burial grounds because they are currently not a part of the recycling or composting program.

One of the City’s innovative solutions for our garbage problem is a waste-to-biofuel facility, slated for 2011, that will gasify non-compostable organics and non-recyclable plastics into a synthetic gas which can then be converted into methanol and ethanol. The biofuels facility combined with the MRF and composter, will help Edmonton to achieve the target of 90% diversion of residential waste from landfills. Edmontonians should feel some sense of civic pride, as I am certain that no other Canadian and perhaps American city is close to reaching that target.

As for my role here, it’s just a typical project management kind of job, good work but underrated. Nothing that would make you leap up and yell, “THAT’S AWESOME! I’ve always dreamed of doing THAT!!!” Alternatively, think of me as a little cog in the magnificent machine that is waste management, whose sole purpose is to take away reminders of our wasteful, fickle and materialistic lifestyle as fast as possible and make us forget we ever bought what we threw out.


Glossary and Abbreviations

Biosolids – residuals from the wastewater treatment process, a combination of partially decomposed organic matter, pathogens and other grotties.

ICI – Industrial, Commercial, Institutional

MRF – Materials Recovery Facility

For more information on the Edmonton Waste Management Centre:

http://www.edmonton.ca/Environment/WasteManagement/EWMC/ewmc_%20for_%20web.pdf

Just a frog in the well

Sometimes when I try to explain to my mom an intellectual or scientific concept that I've just learnt about and it goes completely over her head, she'll say (in Chinese), "Yeah, I don't get it. I'm just a frog in the well."

"A frog in a well" is an old Chinese idiom that refers to an individual who is confined to a really small world view due to the lack of variety in their life experiences. For some individuals, the narrow perspective through which they view the world is due to socioeconomic circumstances and an unfortunate lack of opportunities. For others, it's by choice.

In 2007, I had some free time and chose to volunteer at a drop-in service referral centre for youth aged 14 to 24. During my stint there, I was able to help these at-risk or already-in-trouble youth with simple things like: provide them with some food in exchange for chores, point them in the direction of the nearest medicentre or help them with their job search. Other times we would play chess, watch a movie or just hang out on these revoltingly stained, beige suede couches that reeked of the stereotypical stale, pungent, streetperson smell. During the various conversations that I felt honored to be invited into, I kept hearing the same stories. All of them were living a hand to mouth existence, bouncing from job to job, surviving on PJ sandwiches and instant noodles, staying in an unhealthy relationship, or getting excited about the start of a soon-to-be unhealthy relationship, pregnancy scares, and along with the "Oh NO... I'm really pregnant. Not again." As an outsider, the dysfunctionality was so blatant. But to them, the details of their lives were completely normal. They have never experienced having healthy, loving relationships with non-abusive family members and partners. They have never experienced sleeping in a comfy bed, and not having to worry about where their crackhead parents are and if they'll finally buy food tomorrow. They have no idea what's like to handle their workplace angry or frustrations in a way that keeps them from getting fired. To them, life just doesn't get better than when you have someone to hold and sleep with, even if it's just for a little while, even if they mistreat you; or if you managed to score two brown bags of food from Herb Jamieson instead of the one; or you were able to spent a hour at the referral centre catching up with your buddies on Nexopia; or you don't have to sleep at the shelter today, because a friend is letting you crash on their couch. We non-homeless people see all the potential that life has in store for them. But they might not, they are all like little frogs living down a well, not knowing that a big and wonderful world is outside and not having the expectation for anything better.

Don't despair folks. As bleak as the situation at the drop-in centre might seem, occasionally one of the little frogs do realize that they need to get out of the well and they will try and try again until they do.

As for a less dramatic example, one day after work, I was carpooling with a young co-worker, David, who was sharing about how greatly his life has been enriched by his travels. He explained that one of the main reasons he still drives his dented, rusted out '93 Corolla was that he chose to spent his savings on traveling rather than a new car. David believes that he's gotten way more out of life than his older brother, who's a recent grad, and chose the new car route. I responded, "You place a high priority on expanding your life experiences and worldview. But not everyone thinks that way. Your brother and other people may be perfectly satisfied with their lives because they don't know what they're missing."

So there you have it. Two examples of "Frog in the Well".

Sometimes, thinking of the kids at the drop-in centre makes me wonder if in some ways, I am still just a Frog in the Well. Are there any areas in my life where I am simply settling for what is easy and comfortable? How can I challenge myself beyond status quo? I fully believe that the biggest rewards in life come with the biggest risks. The most important thing to remember is that new experiences do not just fall into one's lap. They must be actively pursued, or else by default we will take the path of least resistance, and just simply do what we've always done and continue to be the person that we've always been.

Lessons from an Olympian

I just spent the past 3 hours watching CBC's coverage of the Olympics. During this time, I first witnessed Michael Phelps effortlessly freestyle his way to another world record, then watched the Chinese Men's gymnastic team triumphantly "vault" beyond their US and Japan contenders in the team event. But what impacted me the most tonight, was not the victories, but the mistakes. One that stood out especially occurred in the high-bar event, when a German gymnast, Fabian Hambuechen, had a hand slip from the bar during a typical transition and the next thing I know he was dangling off the bar like a kid on the jungle gym. Just prior to this, the announcer was going on and on about their high expectations for Hambuechen and the thrill that the crowd is going to get from his highly difficult and elegant routine. I was shocked and empathetically devastated; but in the moments the followed, those feelings were replaced with hope and admiration as he quickly adjusted the taping around his wrist, got boosted back on the bar by his coach, and completed his original routine with a near-perfect landing.

So maybe I've never experienced the pressure of competing at an international event with billions of viewers, but I remember royally botching two performances, both during my teenage years and in a team setting. The first mess up was a trumpet solo in a Grade 9 Jazz Band competition in Saskatchewan. I froze during 16 out a 22 measure Basin Street Blues solo. Woo boy! I thought my band teacher would say something, but she never did. Then in Grade 10, I was in a cheerleading competition, again in Saskatchewan. One of the cheerleaders got injured the night before competition, which led to last minute formation changes that affected me and the sequence of some of my choreography. Yeppers! I, again, froze during competition for 16 dance beats. During the 8 seconds of agonizing hell, I first wished mightily for the power of invisibility. Then I thought, "Well, I'm in exactly the centre of this formation. Maybe they won't notice that I'm not moving since everything is symmetrical." Thankfully, I was able to snap out of it and finish the rest of the routine without incident.

You'd think I took those incidents really hard; I'm definitely not the poster child for Under-achieving Asians. But I didn't. I guess, I must've not taken those activities too seriously. It's not like I was in the Olympics or something.

So back to Fabian Hambuechen. I don't know what he's feeling now. But I really appreciated his display of perseverance, and his ability to suck it up and finish the job for his team. Not everyone can compete in the Olympics, but anyone can choose perseverance. Life is all about jumping back on the proverbial horse. Hopefully mine isn't too wild.

Buyer's Regret - $3.47 frozen pizza

Ever worship the cheap.  Ever buy a mediocre product just because the price was ridiculously low.  Today, it all started when I found myself, with mother in tow, in the relatively new Walmart Supercentre(?) near South Common, looking for buttons to replace a missing one on a pair of jeans.  (Please give me some credit for buying buttons, instead of simply tossing out the $10 jeans).   After I grabbed the buttons, I felt the strong "invisible hand" pulling me to check out the deals in this gargantuan one-stop-shop.  Strolling through the frozen aisles, I found an amazing bargain for 12', deluxe, frozen pizzas by some American brand that I've never heard of.   $3.47!  How is that possible?  There's so many contributing factors for the unbeatable price.   The simplest explanation is that Walmart can subsidize the losses on the pizza with the overall profit that the store makes in other areas.  

We consumers only care about the price but not the true cost of our purchases.  Going back to the $3.47 for my pizza.  The components of the pizza came from all over the country.  For example, the cardboard packaging originated from trees that were logged, then sent to a pulpmill, then a papermill, and then to the pizza plant.  The flour, meat, cheese, and vegetables also are likely to have come from different regions of the continent.  What were the resource extraction, farming, manufacturing, and transportation costs that went into the pizza? What would be the true cost of that pizza if we not only considered those costs but were also incorporate the cost of giving every employee who had a part in making it a fair wage and humane working conditions.  Okay, maybe I'm a bit too pessimistic in thinking that the workers in the pizza plant are all illegal aliens; but I really don't think it's such a stretch.    

In the end, I ate the stupid pizza and it wasn't good.  Mom said it was salty, and I thought the crust was too doughy, the sauce too pasty and the toppings too sparse.  I guess I got what I paid for.