Medjugorje: Fervent Worship and Booming Business

May 28, 2008 – 7:02 am

The last time I came to Bosnia was in the middle of the Balkan War. My mother loves bargains and war zone holidays always are cheaper. In Bosnia, though, we were looking for something more profound than bargain-priced entertainment.

We got onto the only plane that flew there (surely enough, there were only about five holidaymakers on the plane). When we landed at the airport, we realized were on the only civilian plane there.

On the bus to Medjugorje we could hear and see the bombs going off in the distance, and it was a bit scary. However, when we arrived at Medjugorje, where the virgin Mary has been appearing to 6 visionaries since 1981, we realized that the scary part was well worth it.

The village was small and rustic with a big modern church surrounded by vineyards. The village itself was situated between two hills, Krizvas and Podbrdo (the name Medjugorje means “between the mountains”). Miraculously, although the surrounding villages were bombed severely in the war, Medjugorje was somehow left untouched. The village was comprised mostly of rustic stone houses where we enjoyed home-cooked meals.

My recent drive to Medjugorje from Split, Croatia, was very different. No bombs were going off in the distances, and instead of closing my eyes and ears in fear, I was able to appreciate the beautiful scenery. The drive up the hills, overlooking the coast below, was breathtaking. Beautiful wildflowers grew by the roadside.

Here’s a tip, however: if you drive to Bosnia, don’t get carried away and daydream, surrounded as you are by beautiful nature. Be careful when crossing the border. Read More »

By Feature Writer | Posted in Society, europe, travel | Comments (0)

A Morning in the Life: John McCain

May 25, 2008 – 4:51 am

In some Best Western on the campaign trail in Red State America, the Republican Standard Bearer awakens.

“Psst,” he says, nudging his wife. “Psst. Cindy? Are you awake?”

“John, it’s 4:30 in the morning. Unless you took that pill and hour ago, there’s no way we can have sex and still be ready for the campaign bus. Remember the last time we tried this and you knocked the donuts off the table? It gave Candy Crowley the wrong idea.”

“No, no, not that,” John says in a huff.

“What is it?”

“Jesus, Cindy, pinch me. Can you believe this?”

“Believe what?”

“I have no right being in this thing. Those right-wing jihadists and their chucklehead cheerleader in the White House screwed things up so badly, I figured I’d be going down to a bigger defeat than Alf Landon against FDR in the middle of the Depression.”

“Why? Were you a staffer on Alf’s campaign?”

“Don’t be a smartass. But how in the hell am I in this thing? We’re losing safe seats in special elections suggesting an ax-handling of epic proportions, yet I am even in the polls with either that latte-drinking dilettante or Madam Defarge and the lounge lizard she married. How can this be when the country hates Republicans?”

“You hate them too, honey.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a maverick, I get it. But I am still in the party of George Bush, and the only guy happy with him right now is Jimmy Carter because he is finally going to be off the hook. When a president steps on his own dick or her own boob, people will no longer mutter ‘this is the worst president since Jimmy Carter.’ They’ll mutter, ‘this is the worst President since George W. Bush.’ That pompous old coot Carter managed to live long enough to see someone actually raise the bar on presidential incompetence.”

“Aren’t you getting a little confused, like that Sunni, Shia thing Lieberman bailed you out of? Don’t you mean lower the bar?” Read More »

By Feature Writer | Posted in Broken News, Current Affairs, election 08, humor | Comments (0)

Cristiano Ronaldo and the Coming of the Antichrist

May 22, 2008 – 6:15 am

Author’s note to her faithful American readers: yes, I mean football as in “soccer.” “Soccer” is an ugly word and the rest of the world barely uses it.

I wake up today to a sad world. Sure, things may presently be peaceful in my corner of the universe, with birdies singing and cockroaches scuttling happily about their business of scaring me to death. Yet there is a melancholy note in the birdsong and the scuttling of the unholy abominations known as blatta orientalis has an automaton, going-through-the-motions feel about it.

Precious is lost. And by “precious,” I mean the Champions’ League title. Well, for Chelsea, anyway.

There’s a reason why I don’t write much about football. My two favourite teams, Chelsea and Dynamo Kiev, are like the dorky, gifted kids at school, forever getting stuffed into lockers and denied the glory that’s their due. While Hollywood and modern technology have been busy fulfilling the “and the geek shall inherit the earth” prophecy, things are a little different on the pitch.

Last night, as I watched the Champion’s League final (held inside Moscow’s Luzhniki Stadium, the hallowed ground where my father went with his father to see many a Dynamo Kiev away game), I expressed my hatred of Manchester United many times over. The expressions I used were creative, and not entirely suitable for this publication. In my defense, I’d like to point out that if it wasn’t for Cristiano Ronaldo’s face, I might have been more civil.

This might seem superficial, but I just can’t stand dudes who smile like evil ferrets advancing on a nest of baby chicks. One of these days, the fall of civilization will be traced to this smug, self-satisfied countenance. You’re laughing now, but you’ll be sorry later, as ashes fall from the sky, the locusts advance, and, somewhere, Cristiano Ronaldo continues to grin maniacally.

Let’s put it this way, if Cristiano Ronaldo lived in the States, he would have already made at least one sex-tape with Paris Hilton and/or Tom Sizemore, then gone on some third-rate reality TV show to brag about it.

You might argue that football is, ultimately, for the smug and the self-satisfied. After all, confidence is what helps plant terror in your opponents’ hearts, no?

Read More »

By Natalia Antonova | Posted in Columnist, Entertainment, football, humor, sports | Comments (10)

There and Back Again: My Trip to Orlando

May 19, 2008 – 6:26 am

I’m like a million other people: I’m at the airport, waiting for a flight. I packed last night, and even checked in on-line; it was all extremely organized. I’m that sort of person. Of course, I’m also the sort of person that you see hip-sliding across car hoods in the parking deck and vaulting over old ladies to get to class on time.

Sometimes, when I’m in an airport, or a mall, or any other sort of crowded place, I feel totally unique. This is, of course, ironic, because there are probably thirty or forty other people that feel the exact same way. I find this notion charming. If you can understand this – and perhaps you can – it makes me feel like a writer.

The people around me are a blend, a spectrum of human existence. I look at individuals, and see a few facets of their lives – and I feel like I know them. As different and anonymous as we all are, we are temporary siblings in the fraternal order of Those In Transit.

I do not know the elderly woman sitting across from me, but when we board the plane, there is every chance that our eyes will meet and we will attain an instant, unspoken understanding over the fact that this food would give diarrhea to a wharf rat. When my stomach burbles, signaling that the “chicken” I ate wasn’t exactly “dead,” and is plotting some sort of internal coup, hers will burble in sympathy. And when she gasps, wheezes and shifts over to relieve the pressure on that G-D sciatic nerve, I will do the same.

In short, I’m in a singular situation, and it’s awfully interesting from the perspective of a nosy bastard that likes to turn phrases.

Do you know why every comedian has at least a few things to say about airports? Because it’s just what a comedian does. I suppose it’s similar to the way that about 95% of police chow on donuts and hot dogs until they’re too overweight to protect or serve - it’s not necessarily important to the job, and it’s even kind of cliché, but you don’t just ignore tradition. But why exactly did airport mockery become a tradition?

I think it’s because airports are a common experience for all. Additionally – and this part’s important – airports are brimming with stupid. Making fun of airports is like playing chess with Nicole Ritchie, or arm wrestling a baby turtle, but I am not above any of those things. Read More »

By Joe Hormes | Posted in Columnist, humor, travel | Comments (1)

Interview With Author Hugh Miles

May 15, 2008 – 2:36 am

This is an interview with Hugh Miles, author of Playing Cards In Cairo. We wish to thank everyone who made this interview possible.

hugh miles

Jonathan Mok: What inspired you to write the book?

Hugh Miles: While writing my previous book, “Al Jazeera – How Arab TV News Has Challenged the World,” I had to travel all over the Gulf and North Africa. I soon realised it would make more sense to be based somewhere in the region than to commute back and forth from London every few weeks. I wanted somewhere central and accessible both to Europe and all the countries in the region. I love big cities so Cairo seemed like the obvious choice.

Cairo does not suit everyone – it’s crowded and terribly polluted – but I found it fascinating. It is the cultural heart and soul of the Arab world, where Arab trends start and I just wanted to soak it all up. The fact that you can live so well in Egypt compared to the cost of living of London certainly contributed to that decision!

I started working freelance for Western newspapers and magazines, covering everything from terrorism to the arts. I was on the point of leaving and then unexpectedly I met an Egyptian girl and fell in love.

Dating an Arab Muslim girl is not easy and I soon realised that I would have to find a clever way to spend time with her if we were not going to fall foul of conservative Egyptian society. So I began to play cards with her and her friends.

The stories I heard around the card table taught me much about the lives of young women in the Egyptian megalopolis and I felt privileged to glimpse what is normally the hidden half of Arab society.

I wanted to write about the cards sessions in a newspaper, but I knew it would not be possible as strictly speaking what I heard was not news. That’s when I decided to write a book.

Jonathan: Does the continuation of that traditional practices such as wearing veils, symbolize the failure of secularisation that the Egyptian government has tried to implement since Nasser? Read More »

By Jonathan Mok | Posted in Arts & Literature, books, islam, middle east | Comments (0)

Playing Cards in Cairo: A Review

May 13, 2008 – 9:48 am

This is a review of Playing Cards in Cairo by Hugh Miles. Abacus. 2008.

Hugh Miles, the son of a British diplomat, has a freewheeling approach to life that, by proxy, helps readers gain a better understanding of Egyptian society. This society is observed through the experiences of his female friends and Roda, an Egyptian woman who becomes his wife.

The book tells stories of Miles’ card-playing mates: Yosra, Nadia, Reem and, by extension, their relatives. The book also documents the blossoming of Miles’ relationship with Roda. Tough subjects, from family abuse to drug addiction, are tackled in this fascinating account.

The book reveals the failure of successive Egyptian governments since Nasser: the idea of secularization seems laughable in a place where millions of females suffer from family violence; the pledge for equality is a farce when one considers the levels of corruption within the state; discrimination against people of different class-backgrounds thrives in a society meant to be egalitarian.

The book also confronts the hypocrisy of stringent interpretation of Islamic law. For example, if pre-martial sex is not accepted, why is a contract marriage, urfi, permitted under Sunni Islam? (P.92-93)

Miles’ narrative is more heartfelt than some, because he is discussing his friends here. The contemporary problems of Egyptian society, lack of job opportunities for young people, lack of freedom of speech, the struggles of Muslims who want to leave their faith, feels more immediate.

Unfortunately, Miles does not really discuss the roots of many of Egypt’s problems. For example, he argues that “Cairo is a class-ridden society where people are expected to know their place…” (p.198) However, a curious outsider such as myself does not see him discussing why he thinks this is the case.

Miles is nevertheless right to question whether democratization will follow economic progress. The transformation of economy, in his eyes, “only [strengthens a] more authoritarian [Egyptian government]” (p.263) He has a point, based on other examples in the region.

Miles’ writing is not didactic. Through merely recounting the difficulties faced by his female friends, he retains enough objectivity to give readers their own chance to think about the status of Egyptian women.

“Today, Egyptian women are better educated than ever before, buy they are sill expected to do the child rearing and domestic chores…Though they can sometimes…choose a husband…family pressures are strong and their lives are blighted by discrimination, deprivation and violence.” (p.276)

Miles’ reserved tone is what really makes his writing resonate.

By Jonathan Mok | Posted in Arts & Literature, africa, book reviews, books, islam, middle east | Comments (1)

Monaco: For Those With Massive Credit Limits!

May 11, 2008 – 9:16 am

For the last ten years, I have been coming to sunny and opulent Monaco for the odd weekend here and there. My mother moved here following my parents’ divorce.

Monaco a strange place, rather like Disneyland. It’s full of mega rich businessmen (like Stelios Haji-Ioannou of easyJet), royals (not only local ones, but the Kuwaiti royal family as well), super models (such as Karen Mulden), as well as the odd film star (Roger Moore lives just above the public beach). Unlike tourists, these people are here not to gamble and take in the sights, but to benefit from zero taxes.

Monaco is Monte Carlo. I’m sure once upon a time Monte Carlo was a town in the middle of the countryside, but now that real estate has become so valuable, every inch of Monaco has been built on, and the country has been swallowed up by the city.

Even the harbor is being expanded so that more yachts can anchor there. Not to mention an island being build out on the sea, with a surface area of some 275,000 square meters. This new development might take the pressure off the Monegasque property market, which has some of highest real-estate prices in the world: a 3-bedroom flat costs up to 5 million euros!

If you do not own any property here, you can stay in fabulous hotels: Hotel de Paris, the Hermitage, or the Metropole, to name a few. Every other weekend there’s some wonderful event going on, such as Red Cross Ball or the Bal de Ete, with expensive tickets attached. Or else there are sporting events such as the Tennis Master Series, or the Monaco Marathon, not to mention the Grand Prix. Read More »

By Feature Writer | Posted in Society, europe, travel | Comments (0)

Two Thoughts in the Prado Museum, Madrid

May 9, 2008 – 8:36 am

I. Guards, sentries, guides, they stalk the halls like silent wraiths clad in their dead blue blazers and knee length skirts. To speak to them is to encounter monotony made woman: instructions enunciated with the indifference usually associated with divorcees.

The majority of them are aged, infirm, with bloated ankles, using the numerous rocking chairs provided to them out of the kindness of the administration. The presence of these women, if they can really be called this, in this palace of art, is anomalous. Their presence does not give affirmation to the things they so jealously guard.

They represent change, age, wrinkles, flaws, sweat, and disfiguration – imperfection. Some are, undoubtedly, beautiful – with fine Castillian features, small angular noses one would pay to trace with his tongue, the pert neck of a swan, curly hair springing with life. Still, their staid standoffish conservatism weighs against the dance, the mirth, the laughter, the flowers, the cherubs, the saints, lechery, hedonism, and lust on display in so many paintings.

In a place where so much is given over to celebrating the glorious sacrifice of Christ, the desensitized omniscience, the ossified haughtiness, the indolent emptiness of these women is a slap in the face. In comparison to the affirmation around them, their lifelessness gives the impression that beauty doesn’t exist today; that it is only a purview of bygone times.

I would like a museum to be dedicated to nurturing every kind of beauty; a place where the mix of divine and human perfection is not just on display upon walls – but found in a more perfect, timeless, eternal form among the living. Why does immortality only belong to the dead? Read More »

By Ali Eteraz | Posted in Arts & Literature, Columnist, Religion, beauty, christianity, creative nonfiction, islam, painting, women | Comments (42)

The Revenge: The Fellow Undead

May 7, 2008 – 2:00 am

The previous installment of Chloe Bradshaw’s tale can be found here.

That morning, I asked Luke what our plan was.

“I know people who will give us a ship for free,” he answered mysteriously as we headed towards Land’s End.

“And I have money for food,” Jay announced.

“You two go on and buy some food for the journey whilst I get us that ship, I won’t be long meet me back at the port, ” Luke told us when we reached Land’s End.

Jay and I walked into a shop and bought some salted beef, salted pork, limes, biscuits, and rum, all of that came to about eighteen guineas. After that we headed back towards the port, where Luke told us to meet him.

We saw Luke standing proud at the docks, pointing to a ship behind him. I was amazed at how he got it, considering that he didn’t pay for it.

“I told you I could get you a ship for free!” He shouted with joy.

“How did you manage it?” I asked.

“Old friends,” he winked.

“At least we have enough food this time,” I joked. I looked at the ship, it was small, but the wood was beautifully carved and the masts looked strong and sturdy. We all took a small dinghy over to the ship.

On board, I gazed into the sky at the clouds that passed by, without a care in the world. Jay stood next to me, watching the clouds like I.

“Shall we get a move on?” Luke asked, shattering the silence.

We hoisted the anchor. The ship soon set sail. I had a good feeling about going out of port this time, with a ship manageable enough for three people, and with no other crew members to worry about.

“Do we have any extra weapons?” I asked.

“No,” Jay told me, I looked over at Luke who shook his head.

“Fine, we shall stop at the next port to stock up on weaponry. Where is the closest port?”

“It’s where we will be going, Falmouth.” Luke told me.

“Right then, next stop Falmouth.”

The sea was not as bad that day, however it was still pretty rough. Come to think of it, the sea was never still round there and it still isn’t to this day. Read More »

By Feature Writer | Posted in Arts & Literature, YA, fiction | Comments (2)

The Unholy Union of Starbucks and “Juno”

May 5, 2008 – 5:44 am

I’m fairly neutral on the subject of Starbucks, because I don’t care about coffee. Coffee generally reminds me of dirty, boiling water that has been poured through a rusty grating and into a cup by somebody who hates me.

I address the issue by adding a ton of cream or milk, and then enough sugar to create something that has been referred to as both a “diabetic Chernobyl” and “liquid renal failure.” But since I generally don’t care for coffee, I leave Starbucks alone for the most part, and Starbucks returns the courtesy.

That isn’t to say I haven’t given the whole enterprise some thought. Yes, Starbucks is a soulless, lumbering, obese corporate entity that sweats overpriced, fancy-named coffee into the mouths of the public. And yes, I’m unwaveringly annoyed by the way they try to sell me CD’s of music fresh from the rainforest when all I really want is to pay too much for an overly complex milkshake.

However, as a business distributing a product that isn’t definitively proven to harm us, they are legally protected in their pursuit of profit, no matter how aggravating it gets. Apparently, the upper-middle class can only drink coffee brewed by an ancient sect of Brazilian coffee monks in a remote bean-temple. And if this is the case – if there really is a population that needs the bland, heavy-handed illusion of worldliness and “alternatude” along with their income-accino – then so be it*.

I wouldn’t say that I choke on the atmosphere misdirected liberal guilt when I enter a Starbucks, but I do sometimes gag a little. Of course, this same atmosphere plays a large indirect part in Starbucks’ astronomical profit margins, so it’s not like they’re putting on the whole show just so that my gorge starts to rise.

Finally, we must remember that most dyed-in-the-tight-jeans hipsters tend to despise Starbucks for being mainstream, capitalist, and lame. And since the hipster view of just about everything is factually wrong, I can’t dislike Starbucks. Neutrality is about as hostile as I can get.

Now, I don’t know if many of you have heard, but Starbucks is selling the movie “Juno” on DVD. This is a case where two things that are blindingly alike have come together – it is both disorienting and inevitable. Read More »

By Joe Hormes | Posted in Columnist, Entertainment, food, humor, movies | Comments (4)