Kaori and I went to the Postojnska caves today -- pretty cool. I've heard that they are both the largest in Europe and the largest in Slovenia (really quite a different thing) but anyway, they are 20 km deep and about 100m below the surface. They were very much like the ones that Carolyn, Kevin and I saw more than a year ago in Kings Canyon, but much much bigger. A river carved them into the limestone and then sunk below them. You start the tour by taking a little train for about a km into the ground. The stalactites and stalagmites are all over the place looking like chickens and spaghetti and ribbons and piles of white poop. I think there must have been like 1000 people on our tour.
Kaori is Japanese, but she speaks wonderful English. Caroline, the French/German girl who also shares our room, and I were talking about going rafting in the Alps. Later, Kaori says to me "You two are going laughing". Of course, I didn't understand, but as I already gave it away, she meant "rafting". Likewise, back at the conference, Giselle was trying to communicate something about people who sell things on the street, and she called them "hookers". Now, maybe its an issue for hookers to have space on the street, but probably that's not what she meant. Sara Stout couldn't stop laughing (tho silently) and later we both wondered why we feel uncomfortable trying to speak other languages. Everyone else makes mistakes trying to speak English with us, we think it's adorable.
Kaori loves Rome. You should have seen her effusing about the architecture. She's from a small town north or Tokyo where she drove alone to her job every day managing the production of Sony computers in China. She was very proud of this job. The office was surrounded by rice paddies, and there is no TDM, but they did pay like $10/mo for the parking. She saves every napkin bc she is concerned about the environment, but she is only vaguely aware of TDM programs. So, I want to talk to her about this some more. I also helped her to describe what she did in English, bc the way she described it was much longer than the way I have described it here. I wrote it out for her, in case she wants to create a resume in English.
She also had a funny idea that I would not drink green tea, only black tea. But maybe that's bc she prefers black tea.
I should wrap up here but there are a few more things I want to mention randomly:
One-third of all people who identify as Hungarian live outside the border of Hungary. I think the subtext here is that the Hungarians believe they have been robbed of their land and that the country should be much bigger. They didn't say it like that however.
Slovenia wanted Independence for economic, not racial, reasons, which is why there was no significant fighting here.
Young Hungarian women are very skinny with big boobs. Later they gain weight and become round and apple-shaped. My companions admired the young women (hey, what am I guy now?) with the understanding that it couldn't last.
Hungary is much cheaper than Slovenia.
Friday, July 29, 2005
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Update and a story
I have made it to Lubljana and am installed in the youth hostel here. It's a pretty town with a pedestrianized center, lovely art nouveau buildings, and a river. The city is littered with sidewalk cafes with umbrellas and candlelight in the evening. There's even a castle up on the hilltop overlooking the dense little city. Lubljana doesn't feel like a country's capital, it's so small.
They've taken countdown signals to a new level. Not only do the lights count down the amount of time you have to cross the street, they also count down the amount of time the cars have to get thru the intersection. Unfortunately, the peds have 9 seconds and the cars 30, and this is in the pedestrian city center!
What else? I met these 2 young English girls on the train here, and we had dinner last night. I had fried calamari and salad, just like I might at home. I guess I am just know what I like.
I still have lots of conference stuff to catch up on. I will start with a story a Dutch bicycle specialist told us over lunch. So, the queen of one of the United Arab Emirate countries noticed that both her husband (the king) and the rest of the country were getting fat. They are, of course, very wealthy and no one has to work because of the oil. She is an elegant lady, and she wants things and people around her to look nice.
The king had hired the Rand Corporation to run his country so that he didn't have to bother with it. So, he calls them up and tells them that they have to come up with a plan by which he and his nationals will lose weight.
The Rand Corporation thinks about this for a while and decide that if everyone road bicycles, then they wouldn't be fat. They call my lunch companion for assistance.
But there are problems: the country is incredibly hot. No problem, they say, we will air condition the streets using solar power (there is lots of sunshine). They design a system where the streets are covered with like a Bedouin tent and water is sprayed below it cooling the air. Second problem: how do we measure success? Well, very sophisticated athletes have this machine that measures everything about them (blood pressure, percent body fat, etc.) just by stepping into it. So, they are going to install some of those along this street, and all of the citizens are required to bicycle up and down the air conditioned street and then have their condition checked by the machine on a regular basis. Actually, eventually it will be a network of air conditioned streets. This is a dictatorship, after all. Citizens risk death is they do not comply.
It's like a planners wet dream, isn't it. I just have some problems with the plan: where is this water coming from? and also, is air conditioning the streets going to change the climate?
They've taken countdown signals to a new level. Not only do the lights count down the amount of time you have to cross the street, they also count down the amount of time the cars have to get thru the intersection. Unfortunately, the peds have 9 seconds and the cars 30, and this is in the pedestrian city center!
What else? I met these 2 young English girls on the train here, and we had dinner last night. I had fried calamari and salad, just like I might at home. I guess I am just know what I like.
I still have lots of conference stuff to catch up on. I will start with a story a Dutch bicycle specialist told us over lunch. So, the queen of one of the United Arab Emirate countries noticed that both her husband (the king) and the rest of the country were getting fat. They are, of course, very wealthy and no one has to work because of the oil. She is an elegant lady, and she wants things and people around her to look nice.
The king had hired the Rand Corporation to run his country so that he didn't have to bother with it. So, he calls them up and tells them that they have to come up with a plan by which he and his nationals will lose weight.
The Rand Corporation thinks about this for a while and decide that if everyone road bicycles, then they wouldn't be fat. They call my lunch companion for assistance.
But there are problems: the country is incredibly hot. No problem, they say, we will air condition the streets using solar power (there is lots of sunshine). They design a system where the streets are covered with like a Bedouin tent and water is sprayed below it cooling the air. Second problem: how do we measure success? Well, very sophisticated athletes have this machine that measures everything about them (blood pressure, percent body fat, etc.) just by stepping into it. So, they are going to install some of those along this street, and all of the citizens are required to bicycle up and down the air conditioned street and then have their condition checked by the machine on a regular basis. Actually, eventually it will be a network of air conditioned streets. This is a dictatorship, after all. Citizens risk death is they do not comply.
It's like a planners wet dream, isn't it. I just have some problems with the plan: where is this water coming from? and also, is air conditioning the streets going to change the climate?
Monday, July 25, 2005
Yesterday
Now I am typing from cafe where the keyboard is not set to English standard but so far that just seems to mean that the "y" and the "z" are switched and also, I just learned, that the quotations are in different places. This cafe is supposed to be open until 10, but they have already turned the chairs up on top of the tables. For some reason they are letting me use the computer anyway.
I don't want to spend a whole lot of time bc the keyboard is so annoying and bc they are closing, but I will try to give a brief rundown of yesterday.
I met Markus for breakfast, and Marta and Serge were there too. The 4 of us decided to walk to the Transport Museum (which, it turned out, is really far). We walked thru various pedestrianized areas, filled with tourist restaurants trying to lure us in. We also visited the synagogue, which is apparently the largest in Europe (??). They many works of art commemorating people murdered by the nazis including a metal weeping willow with a different name on each leaf and placks down on its base.
We continued our walk. Marta and Serge pealed off after a bit bc they had an appointment at 3. Markus and I stopped for a coffee in the park next to what looked like some kind of market (we never found out). The Transport Museum was cool, I would say even better than the one in London. I particularly liked the old bicycles and trains (big surprise there). Also included were old cars and a lesson on pavement materials, boats and horse-drawn carriages. The postcards weren't any good.
Afterwards, we had a beverage under a real weeping willow next to a pond where people road boats around. We took the oldest subway system in the word back. It's small and not very far below the surface, just like one small flight of stairs.
For dinner we ate at this vegetarian place which was really good. However, Jason (of Berlin) got the best thing with sweet pickled cabbage and a deep-fried rice patty. In the spirit of traveling, we all finished each others' plates (tho it wasn't family style). In fact, these travelers are hilarious about finishing whatever is left, be it by a friend or stranger. I guess that's what happens when you don't have any money for a long period of time.
Afterwards we went to that squat that I told you about in the previous blog with the multicolored lights in the broken windows. Had a few beers and walked back to the hostel.
I don't want to spend a whole lot of time bc the keyboard is so annoying and bc they are closing, but I will try to give a brief rundown of yesterday.
I met Markus for breakfast, and Marta and Serge were there too. The 4 of us decided to walk to the Transport Museum (which, it turned out, is really far). We walked thru various pedestrianized areas, filled with tourist restaurants trying to lure us in. We also visited the synagogue, which is apparently the largest in Europe (??). They many works of art commemorating people murdered by the nazis including a metal weeping willow with a different name on each leaf and placks down on its base.
We continued our walk. Marta and Serge pealed off after a bit bc they had an appointment at 3. Markus and I stopped for a coffee in the park next to what looked like some kind of market (we never found out). The Transport Museum was cool, I would say even better than the one in London. I particularly liked the old bicycles and trains (big surprise there). Also included were old cars and a lesson on pavement materials, boats and horse-drawn carriages. The postcards weren't any good.
Afterwards, we had a beverage under a real weeping willow next to a pond where people road boats around. We took the oldest subway system in the word back. It's small and not very far below the surface, just like one small flight of stairs.
For dinner we ate at this vegetarian place which was really good. However, Jason (of Berlin) got the best thing with sweet pickled cabbage and a deep-fried rice patty. In the spirit of traveling, we all finished each others' plates (tho it wasn't family style). In fact, these travelers are hilarious about finishing whatever is left, be it by a friend or stranger. I guess that's what happens when you don't have any money for a long period of time.
Afterwards we went to that squat that I told you about in the previous blog with the multicolored lights in the broken windows. Had a few beers and walked back to the hostel.
Buda
Budapest is a grittier, less self-satisfied version of Prague. The city center does not look like a jewel box. It's all about the river and 9 out of every 10 buildings, should you take a moment to look at them, will take your breath away with their ornate art nouveau detail. The trams are adorable (sort of like SF's F-train, except these old cars are the original old cars -- they're not about being old tram cars). The buildings line the river and remind me sort of of Tel Aviv and sort of of, well, Prague. At the same time, they have this soviet architecture and bombed-out buildings that have been converted to beer gardens with a very hip scene. This one place we went to a couple times was between 2 uninhabited buildings. Their windows were broken. Their facades of crumbling cement. One had a basement space where djs played and women customers danced to an audience. Outside, there were shapes painted on the walls -- a big bulls eye off center, and every window in the adjacent 8-story building not only was broken but also had a different colored light in it. This aspect of the city reminded me most of Berlin.
I don't remember what we did when we were here 10 years ago, but I think we probably missed the hole point. I remember walking along the river in the freezing air and drinking beer in a basement pub that seemed to only cater to people who they knew (they knew the guy we were staying with who picked us up at the train station). I don't remember the beautiful buildings (did I not look up?) and I know we never went to any of the baths (what were we thinking?).
Today was a moderate failure. I wanted to see the castle, to visit a 15th Century Turkish bath, and to see the statue park of all the old communist statues that had been removed from thruout the city. Not necessarily in that order. I started with a church in a cave in the first hill north of here on the Buda side (where the hostel is). It was just that, with low ceilings and multiple cavernous spaces. Then I climbed to the top of the citadel, which is the highest point in the city. There I ate my first lunch in a shady spot away from the view bc the sun was hot and the air humid. The city looks more like every other European city from up there, gray and big with ugly highrise apartment buildings around its sprawling perimeter.
I only got a little lost on my way down from the hill, thru parks, and negotiating my route between highways with ped and bikeways that don't quite compensate for the fact that you are crossing a highway between park spaces. After walking past the dilapidated buildings that must have been the entry to the castle, I took the funicular railway up to the castle. I think I have been there before. It was pretty with an interesting mix of pretty old things and pretty, but clearly not quite in place, new things. I walked around up there for a while -- its like there's a whole little city up there, and I got tired and started wanting a coffee. But the tourist prices were more than I could take. So I walked back down the hill and found a pizza place (sorry) where I had an overpriced coffee and pizza. Yeah, it was pretty good.
That about did me in -- I had been walking off and on for 4 hours. So, I took a tram back to the hostel to regroup. Instead I slept for the rest of the afternoon. It's dark out now and people are waiting to use this computer, so I might do another blog entry from a cafe or I might not....
I don't remember what we did when we were here 10 years ago, but I think we probably missed the hole point. I remember walking along the river in the freezing air and drinking beer in a basement pub that seemed to only cater to people who they knew (they knew the guy we were staying with who picked us up at the train station). I don't remember the beautiful buildings (did I not look up?) and I know we never went to any of the baths (what were we thinking?).
Today was a moderate failure. I wanted to see the castle, to visit a 15th Century Turkish bath, and to see the statue park of all the old communist statues that had been removed from thruout the city. Not necessarily in that order. I started with a church in a cave in the first hill north of here on the Buda side (where the hostel is). It was just that, with low ceilings and multiple cavernous spaces. Then I climbed to the top of the citadel, which is the highest point in the city. There I ate my first lunch in a shady spot away from the view bc the sun was hot and the air humid. The city looks more like every other European city from up there, gray and big with ugly highrise apartment buildings around its sprawling perimeter.
I only got a little lost on my way down from the hill, thru parks, and negotiating my route between highways with ped and bikeways that don't quite compensate for the fact that you are crossing a highway between park spaces. After walking past the dilapidated buildings that must have been the entry to the castle, I took the funicular railway up to the castle. I think I have been there before. It was pretty with an interesting mix of pretty old things and pretty, but clearly not quite in place, new things. I walked around up there for a while -- its like there's a whole little city up there, and I got tired and started wanting a coffee. But the tourist prices were more than I could take. So I walked back down the hill and found a pizza place (sorry) where I had an overpriced coffee and pizza. Yeah, it was pretty good.
That about did me in -- I had been walking off and on for 4 hours. So, I took a tram back to the hostel to regroup. Instead I slept for the rest of the afternoon. It's dark out now and people are waiting to use this computer, so I might do another blog entry from a cafe or I might not....
Mob Mentality
It appears that I have out-stayed most of the conference participants, and now I am here in Budapest relatively alone. Starting from where I left you last, the closing party on Thursday night included entertainment by a Tom Waits cover band. Men, women and dogs took the mike and sang about all that dope they used to take and being hung over. It was awesome. While I was kidding about the dogs, the female vocalist was totally amazing. We weren't sure if her voice was naturally like that or if it was cultivated, but we suspected that it was natural.
As usual, the company was excellent, and people danced. We drank beer.
Friday was the annual general meeting (AGM) and while I planned to attend it all, they wore me out after the first half, and I spent the afternoon sleeping 2.5 hours. They use a consensus process. Groups form to discuss specific issues and then report back to the entire group with their recommendations. I participated in the Charter and Statute group, and the issues we wrestled with included whether the staff member of the steering committee gets a full vote (they do, but changed how they are appointed to make the process more democratic), that motorcycles should be included with cars in the Charter (they should, but we left re-writing the charter to the steering committee bc it has to sound beautiful), whether the steering committee should have a point person/press representative (this was the most unclear -- we said that they should and they said that they had just decided that the press representative should be a staff member) and so on. It was both interesting to learn about how the organization functions and unbelievably boring in process and details. I think the other groups may have had more fun prioritizing projects and the like.
That night there were several groups doing things, but the 2 I knew about were 1) Hungarian folk dancing or 2) drinking beer at a squat. While the company would have been more reliable (Brian and Jason from SF), I couldn't pass up the folk dancing. I missed the first wave over, but Steve knew where it was so I headed over there later with him. We got lost twice on our way, and when we found it, it was a small, brightly-lit community center room crowded with people. We opted not to spend the 500 fl (about 2.50 dollars) but instead to stand outside and watch the dancers thru the window. This quickly changed to talking to the dancers thru the window and then to dancing while looking thru the window. The windows were large, open and covered with bars, and the floor the same level inside and out. We bought drinks at a nearby cafe and we consumed them from our outside(rs)-post. Soon our group of 2 became larger as others realised our spot was better.
We accidentally missed the last tram but walking back along the Danube only took about an hour.
Saturday morning was the conference evaluation which was fine and uneventful. The afternoon excursion was cancelled due to rain (which of course went away as soon as that decision was made). Instead a few of us (Marta, Arie, Steve, Silke and myself) went to the baths. I think others slept or went to the open market. I don't know. We went to a different bath this time (Gellert) -- it was equally lovely but much smaller and we paid extra for the thermal baths with the swimming pool. There were 3 temperatures of sauna, a steam room, lots of showers, 2 warm baths and a cold bath. The indoor pool (with retractable roof) was pretty small, but had lots of little fountains, etc. and I liked it a lot. There was an outdoor pool too, and it appeared to be intended for children as most of it was very shallow. The main thing that's better about these baths compared to the others is that they are much closers to our hostel. (I might go again in a few minutes.) However, it is expensive (like 15 dollars to go for a swim), but I guess its worth it cuz it's so pretty.
That night about 17 of us headed out to find a vegetarian restaurant. Of course, the first one we went to was closed, but instead we found a music festival occupying one of the city's bridges. About half of us decided to eat there (including myself) and half of us wanted to keep looking for a vegetarian restaurant. I had greek salad, a large sausage and a large beer, and apparently I chose well be others were not happy with their food. Again we splintered, some of us sitting on the grass in a nearby park/median and others finding a table as part of the festival seating. I am not sure what was good about the seating, other than that it involved seats, but on the grass we were treated to a lite acrobatic performance.
After dinner, we took a short stroll across the bridge and back, noticed some belly dancers on an alternate stage, and headed to another neighborhood where we planned to meet the others for drinks. We later learned that it took them another 2 tries and 1.5 hours to find a vegetarian restaurant, but when they did it was excellent. The group continued to disperse, as we lost a few more member to fatigue or something. We never met up with the vegetarians again that night despite ceaseless texting towards that end. Steve, Markus and I had a quiet beer or 3, just the 3 of us, in a pedestrianized area on the Pest side of the river.
I think I'll tell you the rest in another post....
As usual, the company was excellent, and people danced. We drank beer.
Friday was the annual general meeting (AGM) and while I planned to attend it all, they wore me out after the first half, and I spent the afternoon sleeping 2.5 hours. They use a consensus process. Groups form to discuss specific issues and then report back to the entire group with their recommendations. I participated in the Charter and Statute group, and the issues we wrestled with included whether the staff member of the steering committee gets a full vote (they do, but changed how they are appointed to make the process more democratic), that motorcycles should be included with cars in the Charter (they should, but we left re-writing the charter to the steering committee bc it has to sound beautiful), whether the steering committee should have a point person/press representative (this was the most unclear -- we said that they should and they said that they had just decided that the press representative should be a staff member) and so on. It was both interesting to learn about how the organization functions and unbelievably boring in process and details. I think the other groups may have had more fun prioritizing projects and the like.
That night there were several groups doing things, but the 2 I knew about were 1) Hungarian folk dancing or 2) drinking beer at a squat. While the company would have been more reliable (Brian and Jason from SF), I couldn't pass up the folk dancing. I missed the first wave over, but Steve knew where it was so I headed over there later with him. We got lost twice on our way, and when we found it, it was a small, brightly-lit community center room crowded with people. We opted not to spend the 500 fl (about 2.50 dollars) but instead to stand outside and watch the dancers thru the window. This quickly changed to talking to the dancers thru the window and then to dancing while looking thru the window. The windows were large, open and covered with bars, and the floor the same level inside and out. We bought drinks at a nearby cafe and we consumed them from our outside(rs)-post. Soon our group of 2 became larger as others realised our spot was better.
We accidentally missed the last tram but walking back along the Danube only took about an hour.
Saturday morning was the conference evaluation which was fine and uneventful. The afternoon excursion was cancelled due to rain (which of course went away as soon as that decision was made). Instead a few of us (Marta, Arie, Steve, Silke and myself) went to the baths. I think others slept or went to the open market. I don't know. We went to a different bath this time (Gellert) -- it was equally lovely but much smaller and we paid extra for the thermal baths with the swimming pool. There were 3 temperatures of sauna, a steam room, lots of showers, 2 warm baths and a cold bath. The indoor pool (with retractable roof) was pretty small, but had lots of little fountains, etc. and I liked it a lot. There was an outdoor pool too, and it appeared to be intended for children as most of it was very shallow. The main thing that's better about these baths compared to the others is that they are much closers to our hostel. (I might go again in a few minutes.) However, it is expensive (like 15 dollars to go for a swim), but I guess its worth it cuz it's so pretty.
That night about 17 of us headed out to find a vegetarian restaurant. Of course, the first one we went to was closed, but instead we found a music festival occupying one of the city's bridges. About half of us decided to eat there (including myself) and half of us wanted to keep looking for a vegetarian restaurant. I had greek salad, a large sausage and a large beer, and apparently I chose well be others were not happy with their food. Again we splintered, some of us sitting on the grass in a nearby park/median and others finding a table as part of the festival seating. I am not sure what was good about the seating, other than that it involved seats, but on the grass we were treated to a lite acrobatic performance.
After dinner, we took a short stroll across the bridge and back, noticed some belly dancers on an alternate stage, and headed to another neighborhood where we planned to meet the others for drinks. We later learned that it took them another 2 tries and 1.5 hours to find a vegetarian restaurant, but when they did it was excellent. The group continued to disperse, as we lost a few more member to fatigue or something. We never met up with the vegetarians again that night despite ceaseless texting towards that end. Steve, Markus and I had a quiet beer or 3, just the 3 of us, in a pedestrianized area on the Pest side of the river.
I think I'll tell you the rest in another post....
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Communication
I woke up this morning with a bit of a headache altho there seems to be some disagreement about whether I actually partied significantly or not. People who stayed out later than I say that they did not, while others have observed that I did. This is the problem with trying to categorize anything or really communicate with other people.
I missed the first round of talks this morning. It was a workshop day which means that it was supposed to be collaborative rather than instructive. The one I did attend was called "Communicating your message to the public" which was really about managing the press and public opinion about Critical Mass (CM). One of the organizers of CM in Budapest talked for a very long time about their efforts. Their mass is much more organized than the others I know. They even provide the press with photo ops that will look good bc they know the route they will take. Brian talked about CM and the conflicts in 1997 with Mayor Brown, and how they managed it, and people talked about Masses in Georgia, US and Barcelona.
In Georgia, they changed the name to courteous mass and followed all the rules of traffic. This made the event much more mainstream than other masses, which is appropriate considering the conservative politics of the south. Children and Republicans rode regularly.
What I particularly love about Mass in SF is the way we respond to anger. When an angry driver yells at us, the self-posessed masser smiles and waves back; "hurray!" she calls. How can you remain angry with cute girls on bicycles celebrating in your general direction. Of course, these massers also leave quickly bc no one wants to be around angry people, just in case.
In the afternoon we took a tram to a park and road bicycles designed to look like cars around. Think about it: a bunch of anti-car activists riding around a carfree areas in pretend cars. Hilarious. The park was very pretty, and afterwards we sat in a cafe for a bit as the sun filtered thru the nearby trees. A Turkish city planning prof complimented me on my talk and then told me about her new research project on visual language and how it can be applied to planning. I want to learn more about that!
Dinner was actually good, that german pasta stuff with cream and a mystery meat (we are used to mystery meat by now) cucumber salad and an apple. I took my apple for later.
I missed the first round of talks this morning. It was a workshop day which means that it was supposed to be collaborative rather than instructive. The one I did attend was called "Communicating your message to the public" which was really about managing the press and public opinion about Critical Mass (CM). One of the organizers of CM in Budapest talked for a very long time about their efforts. Their mass is much more organized than the others I know. They even provide the press with photo ops that will look good bc they know the route they will take. Brian talked about CM and the conflicts in 1997 with Mayor Brown, and how they managed it, and people talked about Masses in Georgia, US and Barcelona.
In Georgia, they changed the name to courteous mass and followed all the rules of traffic. This made the event much more mainstream than other masses, which is appropriate considering the conservative politics of the south. Children and Republicans rode regularly.
What I particularly love about Mass in SF is the way we respond to anger. When an angry driver yells at us, the self-posessed masser smiles and waves back; "hurray!" she calls. How can you remain angry with cute girls on bicycles celebrating in your general direction. Of course, these massers also leave quickly bc no one wants to be around angry people, just in case.
In the afternoon we took a tram to a park and road bicycles designed to look like cars around. Think about it: a bunch of anti-car activists riding around a carfree areas in pretend cars. Hilarious. The park was very pretty, and afterwards we sat in a cafe for a bit as the sun filtered thru the nearby trees. A Turkish city planning prof complimented me on my talk and then told me about her new research project on visual language and how it can be applied to planning. I want to learn more about that!
Dinner was actually good, that german pasta stuff with cream and a mystery meat (we are used to mystery meat by now) cucumber salad and an apple. I took my apple for later.
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
ideas
1) a swimming pools of Europe tour book
2) a travel time challenge, sort of like a tag race or whatever you call that game, where you travel around the city by different modes, you're not allowed to pay for parking or anything, and you see who finishes first: bikes, peds, transit riders or car drivers.
2) a travel time challenge, sort of like a tag race or whatever you call that game, where you travel around the city by different modes, you're not allowed to pay for parking or anything, and you see who finishes first: bikes, peds, transit riders or car drivers.
The sooner you get behind the more time you have to catch up.
I am so far behind in the blog by now that I almost want to bag the whole project and start a new one, but I won't bc what this is really about is committment. I feel committed enough to the blog that I will ride out this rough spell. (big sigh.)
The weather has cooled significantly, which makes a world of difference, and the conferences is still going strong but has reached its second half. For those of you not keep track of my every move, I am at the Towards Carfree Cities conference in Budapest. It started on Monday, and ends with an excusion on Saturday. I am thinking of staying until Monday just so that I can try this Turkish bath from the 15th Century. But I haven't decided yet.
You will recall that I came to this conference last year when it was in Berlin and made many wonderful friends some of whom are here again, like Steve my kind host in Prague, Brian, and, well, others I might not have talked about. Maya, sadly, is not here, but she is still very much involved. Many many people have super interesting projects they're working on and I will get to describing those one of these days.
When I get really behind with this, I find it is most helpful to start with the present moment and work backwards. Right this minute it is evening, there's a party going on in the next room where we are all supposed to be sharing something from our culture. I have nothing to share other than my shiney Alt-Am personality, altho Brian was trying to get me to sing the Beach Boys with him. Not sure how I feel about that.
Just a few moments ago, before I started waiting for the computer, I saw a couple presentations. Sara Stout talked about the bike culture in Portland, OR. They did some cool stuff like make a giant bird that they then attach to a bike and ride around with at festivals like Critical Mass. She showed bicycle facilities, like sculturesque parking and creative stencils marking the bike lane, and slides of their bunny ride and their pretty dress ride. It looks like a lot of fun, but I can't help but notice how rich they are in space. None of us have enough room for some projects like those in SF. Or New York. Or Paris....
The first talk tonight was a make up talk by David Peckham on Bicycle Transportation in Africa. He was scheduled to give this talk on Monday, but it turned out that a 2 day layover coming from Africa is not enough. He missed his connection and arrived a few hours after his talk was scheduled to finish. As far as Monday's needs went, this worked fine bc every single talk goes over schedule, and, well, he was able to do the make up talk. Not sure how many people attended tonight (maybe I'll go count in a minute) but it would have been 50 on Monday (when I did count bc he would have gone just before my talk -- more on that later). Anyway....
He was a Peace Corp volunteer in Ghana back in the mid-1980s, and he began his talk by pointing out that his shoes are made out of old tires -- this first sign of a post-car culture. Some time later (than 1985), the govt removed tarifs on bicycles, changing their status from leisure equipment to transportation. He considered this a sign that he should start importing bicycles for the Ghanaese to ride for transportation. Anyway, to make a long story short (or have I already succeeded in doing the reverse as usual?), he imports bicycle and bicycle parts to Ghana. He has 2 local business partners who sell the bikes and tools, but they reserve some to offer at half price to rural people who participate in a bicycle maintenance class. So far they have taught about 57 of these workshops and distributed 1150 bikes this way. These classes elevate the role of the bicycle mechanic in the society, and they have a mandate to include between 20 and 50% women in the classes (but only about 3% of women actually ride bikes). The also offer an advanced class.
By riding bicycles instead of walking or riding the bus, people save something like 25% of their salary. That is, they save time, make more money, and don't have to spend money on other things like the bus. This project seems to me one of the most honorable things a person could do. And they need volunteers.
OK, so don't freak out, I am not going to be one of them. I am a woman, a poor bicycle mechanic, and my french is pretty bad, but I can imagine if all those things were different, it would be a super cool thing to do. So, if you know anyone who might want to volunteer, refer them to: pcei.org/vbp. They also need used bikes, parts and tools, but only from Europe.
Earlier today we ditched the conference for a swim in one of the thermal baths. It was basically a really cool and kinda expensive swimming pool, beautiful with nice architecture and sculptures and fountains lining the pool. The lap pool was at the center, and at either end had a jaccuzi thing in the center (not hot) and what Brian called a Hungarian washing machine around it (where jets sent you swirling around in a circle with everyone else -- I bonked into a lot of people and the wall a number of times -- fun but a little painful, and I am not into that kind of thing). Surrounding the washing machine is a paddling pool about the size of the lap pool (big). After paddling around for about an hour, we had a beer on the terrace before heading back. I am not sure I would go a second time this visit, but I would recommend it to others.
The hostel is dirty and austere with Soviet style architecture and everything broken but not beyond usablity. Two nights ago I had to fight off the cockroach (literally) that wanted to sleep with me (you know, he wasn't really my type, and I am not single anyway). I haven't seen any living cockroaches since, but there's a dead one on the sink in my room. I am afraid to move him in case he comes back to life or something. Ick. Otherwise, the room has a sort of elegant soviet efficency, intended for 2 people, with evenly 2 of everything: narrow bed, desk, closet, cabinet, bookshelf. It was terribly hot the first 2 days and sleeping unpleasant. A disco keeps me awake until the wee hours. The food is also pretty bad, but I manage to eat plenty of fruit which provided in excess. Maybe I should do a fruit fast, except I am way too hungry all the time.
blah blah blah. I have managed to ramble on for quite a while here, and yet I still have only caught up on a few things. Count on more rambling another day. Now I think I'll join the party.
The weather has cooled significantly, which makes a world of difference, and the conferences is still going strong but has reached its second half. For those of you not keep track of my every move, I am at the Towards Carfree Cities conference in Budapest. It started on Monday, and ends with an excusion on Saturday. I am thinking of staying until Monday just so that I can try this Turkish bath from the 15th Century. But I haven't decided yet.
You will recall that I came to this conference last year when it was in Berlin and made many wonderful friends some of whom are here again, like Steve my kind host in Prague, Brian, and, well, others I might not have talked about. Maya, sadly, is not here, but she is still very much involved. Many many people have super interesting projects they're working on and I will get to describing those one of these days.
When I get really behind with this, I find it is most helpful to start with the present moment and work backwards. Right this minute it is evening, there's a party going on in the next room where we are all supposed to be sharing something from our culture. I have nothing to share other than my shiney Alt-Am personality, altho Brian was trying to get me to sing the Beach Boys with him. Not sure how I feel about that.
Just a few moments ago, before I started waiting for the computer, I saw a couple presentations. Sara Stout talked about the bike culture in Portland, OR. They did some cool stuff like make a giant bird that they then attach to a bike and ride around with at festivals like Critical Mass. She showed bicycle facilities, like sculturesque parking and creative stencils marking the bike lane, and slides of their bunny ride and their pretty dress ride. It looks like a lot of fun, but I can't help but notice how rich they are in space. None of us have enough room for some projects like those in SF. Or New York. Or Paris....
The first talk tonight was a make up talk by David Peckham on Bicycle Transportation in Africa. He was scheduled to give this talk on Monday, but it turned out that a 2 day layover coming from Africa is not enough. He missed his connection and arrived a few hours after his talk was scheduled to finish. As far as Monday's needs went, this worked fine bc every single talk goes over schedule, and, well, he was able to do the make up talk. Not sure how many people attended tonight (maybe I'll go count in a minute) but it would have been 50 on Monday (when I did count bc he would have gone just before my talk -- more on that later). Anyway....
He was a Peace Corp volunteer in Ghana back in the mid-1980s, and he began his talk by pointing out that his shoes are made out of old tires -- this first sign of a post-car culture. Some time later (than 1985), the govt removed tarifs on bicycles, changing their status from leisure equipment to transportation. He considered this a sign that he should start importing bicycles for the Ghanaese to ride for transportation. Anyway, to make a long story short (or have I already succeeded in doing the reverse as usual?), he imports bicycle and bicycle parts to Ghana. He has 2 local business partners who sell the bikes and tools, but they reserve some to offer at half price to rural people who participate in a bicycle maintenance class. So far they have taught about 57 of these workshops and distributed 1150 bikes this way. These classes elevate the role of the bicycle mechanic in the society, and they have a mandate to include between 20 and 50% women in the classes (but only about 3% of women actually ride bikes). The also offer an advanced class.
By riding bicycles instead of walking or riding the bus, people save something like 25% of their salary. That is, they save time, make more money, and don't have to spend money on other things like the bus. This project seems to me one of the most honorable things a person could do. And they need volunteers.
OK, so don't freak out, I am not going to be one of them. I am a woman, a poor bicycle mechanic, and my french is pretty bad, but I can imagine if all those things were different, it would be a super cool thing to do. So, if you know anyone who might want to volunteer, refer them to: pcei.org/vbp. They also need used bikes, parts and tools, but only from Europe.
Earlier today we ditched the conference for a swim in one of the thermal baths. It was basically a really cool and kinda expensive swimming pool, beautiful with nice architecture and sculptures and fountains lining the pool. The lap pool was at the center, and at either end had a jaccuzi thing in the center (not hot) and what Brian called a Hungarian washing machine around it (where jets sent you swirling around in a circle with everyone else -- I bonked into a lot of people and the wall a number of times -- fun but a little painful, and I am not into that kind of thing). Surrounding the washing machine is a paddling pool about the size of the lap pool (big). After paddling around for about an hour, we had a beer on the terrace before heading back. I am not sure I would go a second time this visit, but I would recommend it to others.
The hostel is dirty and austere with Soviet style architecture and everything broken but not beyond usablity. Two nights ago I had to fight off the cockroach (literally) that wanted to sleep with me (you know, he wasn't really my type, and I am not single anyway). I haven't seen any living cockroaches since, but there's a dead one on the sink in my room. I am afraid to move him in case he comes back to life or something. Ick. Otherwise, the room has a sort of elegant soviet efficency, intended for 2 people, with evenly 2 of everything: narrow bed, desk, closet, cabinet, bookshelf. It was terribly hot the first 2 days and sleeping unpleasant. A disco keeps me awake until the wee hours. The food is also pretty bad, but I manage to eat plenty of fruit which provided in excess. Maybe I should do a fruit fast, except I am way too hungry all the time.
blah blah blah. I have managed to ramble on for quite a while here, and yet I still have only caught up on a few things. Count on more rambling another day. Now I think I'll join the party.
Sunday, July 10, 2005
The art of bottling sunshine
I fully realize that French wine with English writing on it is a marketing gimmick and good wine doesn't need a gimmick (just a pretty label). But I am afraid that I bought this bottle of rose (for myself) because I liked what it said: Art de vivre -- The art of bottling sunshine from the Roussillon region in the South of France.
And on the cork no less.
I have long called myself a "life artist" -- ever since I stopped drawing after college. I was good, but I just never produced anything without the structure of school, and eventually I decided to stop beating myself up for being who I am and start telling people who asked that, instead of drawing, I live my life like a work of art. OK, sure, that sounds ridiculously hippy-dippy and pretentious, but let those feelings go for a minute. What it means, of course, is that every step I take and every item or action I include should be carefully considered, composed, coordinated with the overall scheme. At any given time, I might work on a variety compositions: the lost soul, the doting friend, the professional, the party girl, the woman with a beautiful home, and even the artist. I am not saying that any of them are masterpieces, but I consider them as I make each decision, and try to give then their due respect.
But bottling sunshine... you know how there are some people who brighten a room, or get a party going well, or a conversation? You know how there are some people you just want to talk to forever and some people you can't think of anything to say to? It has nothing to do with what you have in common or what you might have shared -- it's chemistry, but it's also identity. Some people can talk to anyone. Some of my friends believe I am one of them. I am most certainly not. See what I mean?
Do people change? Elizabeth says they don't, and I am inclined to believe her in the long-term. But what about hourly, daily, as we breath in and breath out? Of course we do. The social and physical soup which we flavor and which flavors us changes. Since I stopped drinking coffee (which I highly recommend doing), I am no longer an extremely moody person, but I believe I am talking here about something more than moodiness.
That makes me want to talk about how we feel relative to how we care for ourselves. My mother never seems to feel very good and is always tired, and I firmly believe that that has more to do with the fact that she's dehydrated than anything else. I once went to a doctor and said "I get headaches; should I drink more water?" He said "I don't know about that. Do you want pain killers?" (What's wrong with this world?!) My friend Rachel said to me recently "Have you changed your diet?" I still don't know why. A guy once broke up with me because he had been drinking decaf for about 4 days while I was there ("I just feel really headachy and low-energy now that you're here") -- neither one of use realized this until later (not that I am sorry now, but at the time it was kind of annoying). So, my "social and physical soup" is more than metaphorical -- it's physical. It's just not actual soup that you eat for lunch.
Wow! I really did not see all that coming at all -- it would be hubris for me to liken that wine marketing and me to Proust and his madeline, but maybe I am a nice matchbox car to it.
Speaking of sunshine, the weather appears to be sunnier today, and I woke up on my own at 8. I had strange unpleasant dreams and woke up twice in the night. Yesterday I spent most of the day on my presentation, but I also took a walk to Chateau de Vincenne. I walked around the castle in the fading Sunday afternoon light. Since the streets here are neither straight nor gridded, I nearly got lost returning until I looked around and found myself exactly one block from the apartment. (which makes me want to talk about attitude, but it will have to wait for another blog. Did I tell you my pen literally exploded on me on the airplane? More on that and mini-earth quakes releasing the pressure and how we think about the world we live in another time.)
And on the cork no less.
I have long called myself a "life artist" -- ever since I stopped drawing after college. I was good, but I just never produced anything without the structure of school, and eventually I decided to stop beating myself up for being who I am and start telling people who asked that, instead of drawing, I live my life like a work of art. OK, sure, that sounds ridiculously hippy-dippy and pretentious, but let those feelings go for a minute. What it means, of course, is that every step I take and every item or action I include should be carefully considered, composed, coordinated with the overall scheme. At any given time, I might work on a variety compositions: the lost soul, the doting friend, the professional, the party girl, the woman with a beautiful home, and even the artist. I am not saying that any of them are masterpieces, but I consider them as I make each decision, and try to give then their due respect.
But bottling sunshine... you know how there are some people who brighten a room, or get a party going well, or a conversation? You know how there are some people you just want to talk to forever and some people you can't think of anything to say to? It has nothing to do with what you have in common or what you might have shared -- it's chemistry, but it's also identity. Some people can talk to anyone. Some of my friends believe I am one of them. I am most certainly not. See what I mean?
Do people change? Elizabeth says they don't, and I am inclined to believe her in the long-term. But what about hourly, daily, as we breath in and breath out? Of course we do. The social and physical soup which we flavor and which flavors us changes. Since I stopped drinking coffee (which I highly recommend doing), I am no longer an extremely moody person, but I believe I am talking here about something more than moodiness.
That makes me want to talk about how we feel relative to how we care for ourselves. My mother never seems to feel very good and is always tired, and I firmly believe that that has more to do with the fact that she's dehydrated than anything else. I once went to a doctor and said "I get headaches; should I drink more water?" He said "I don't know about that. Do you want pain killers?" (What's wrong with this world?!) My friend Rachel said to me recently "Have you changed your diet?" I still don't know why. A guy once broke up with me because he had been drinking decaf for about 4 days while I was there ("I just feel really headachy and low-energy now that you're here") -- neither one of use realized this until later (not that I am sorry now, but at the time it was kind of annoying). So, my "social and physical soup" is more than metaphorical -- it's physical. It's just not actual soup that you eat for lunch.
Wow! I really did not see all that coming at all -- it would be hubris for me to liken that wine marketing and me to Proust and his madeline, but maybe I am a nice matchbox car to it.
Speaking of sunshine, the weather appears to be sunnier today, and I woke up on my own at 8. I had strange unpleasant dreams and woke up twice in the night. Yesterday I spent most of the day on my presentation, but I also took a walk to Chateau de Vincenne. I walked around the castle in the fading Sunday afternoon light. Since the streets here are neither straight nor gridded, I nearly got lost returning until I looked around and found myself exactly one block from the apartment. (which makes me want to talk about attitude, but it will have to wait for another blog. Did I tell you my pen literally exploded on me on the airplane? More on that and mini-earth quakes releasing the pressure and how we think about the world we live in another time.)
[Paris] a few additional matters
At the risk of being too too boring and driving my readers away, I woke up this morning on my own (sans alarm) at 9:30 (10:30 yesterday). I consider this a huge boon. The plan for today is to do nothing. That is, not to stray far from the apartment and to work on my presentation and other projects. One of these projects is to eat that food I bought yesterday.
Speaking of food, I forgot one very important detail of yesterday's adventures: my reunion with the nutella crepe. I bought it from a stand on the right edge of the Seine, perhaps not the most ideal vendor, but they are kind of hard to mess up as long as they are born in the right city.
The other thing exciting to me that you may wish to skip over is my irrational purchase of some wacky blue earings. They hang slightly, and have a six-petalled flower at the top, then a butterfly, and then 2 pearlescent beads. The shop girl said in her very cute accent "funky". I almost never make impulse buys, but maybe the jet lag got to me or something bc this was not only an impulse but also a style totally atypical for me. Anyway, I like them a lot.
In the meantime, I am sitting here with a lovely cup of green tea. The gray diffused light shines thru the windows only just, but I am not cold in my little sleeping outfit. My mother says that I will see her here tomorrow and that pleases me. I haven't decided what to eat for breakfast yet... too many options now.
Speaking of food, I forgot one very important detail of yesterday's adventures: my reunion with the nutella crepe. I bought it from a stand on the right edge of the Seine, perhaps not the most ideal vendor, but they are kind of hard to mess up as long as they are born in the right city.
The other thing exciting to me that you may wish to skip over is my irrational purchase of some wacky blue earings. They hang slightly, and have a six-petalled flower at the top, then a butterfly, and then 2 pearlescent beads. The shop girl said in her very cute accent "funky". I almost never make impulse buys, but maybe the jet lag got to me or something bc this was not only an impulse but also a style totally atypical for me. Anyway, I like them a lot.
In the meantime, I am sitting here with a lovely cup of green tea. The gray diffused light shines thru the windows only just, but I am not cold in my little sleeping outfit. My mother says that I will see her here tomorrow and that pleases me. I haven't decided what to eat for breakfast yet... too many options now.
Saturday, July 09, 2005
First 2 days in Paris
Gosh, I don't really even know where to begin. I'm back here in Paris along with the San Francisco Ballet. You didn't know that I'm also a ballerina? Well, there are many things you don't know about me. I can make a clover shape with my tongue. I can make a variety of animal noises quite convincingly. I can say "Please hold on" and sound exactly like the Muni lady saying it. I make soap and bath salts. I speak French very badly. I have traveled around the world. I have driven across the US several times, tho never actually behind the wheel. I can drive and parallel park better than most. I love driving on San Francisco hills bc I am naturally good at it. I took 3 semesters of calculus post-college for the first time, for fun. I type, read, run and bike very slowly but am adaptable to keyboards in other languages. I draw people pretty well but landscapes badly. I used to sing opera. What? You knew all that about me already and this ballet things still sounds like BS? OK, I lied about being a ballerina. But the fact remains that both me and the SF ballet are here at the same time.
I arrived yesterday after eventless flights and connections. This was a happy change from the last time. The NY-Paris leg was very cold, and I slept badly. I was also disappointed when the girl next to me would not let me rest my feet on hers for warmth. I collected my bags without incident and the RER left shortly after I got on it. Basically, the universe smiled upon me.
I am staying again at the B's Montreuil apartment, but G could not meet me here until 8 PM (I arrived at 11 AM). So, I had arranged to hangout at my friend Jennifer's for the day. As I stepped out of the Metro in her posh neighborhood (the 16th), I was immediately surounded by a marching band advertising something about Brazil and summer. I accepted their flyers (still unread) and marched with them for a block or 2 towards Jennifer's, my welcome parade.
Jennifer's was mayhem. I mean, her place is gorgeous, and she has been painting a lot lately (wonderful!), but the plummer walked in behind me to unclog the shower and the cleaning person (who it turns out had not lost his keys and was unaware that he might have) followed close behind. Jennifer and I went out to lunch at the corner cafe (salade parisienne et un cafe maintenant, si vous plait, pas apre), and then I took the dog for a longish walk. I used the computer and napped for an hour while Jennifer picked up Nell, her daughter (7?). Jennifer is a bonfide goddess for letting me hang there instead of carrying my 60 pounds (no kidding) of stuff around Paris for 8 hours on no sleep.
Nell is super fun and very high energy. But I had to go meet G and his mother for dinner at 8. They are so charming. Over dinner we talked about the recent terrorism in London (horrible! murderers! ...but we are no strangers to protests of the G8 -- just not like that), the failure to EU constitution to pass in France (bc 1-it's too complicated, 2-the EU admin structure is too complicated, and 3-people oppose Chirac, everything he does and all things, always, but G voted for it anyway), and one other super interesting thing that I have temporarily forgotten. (darn it! i should carry a notebook always.)
Then I slept for 10+ hours.
It's been rainy and cold here, no unlike SF in the winter (I wear a sweater!) but it did clear up briefly this afternoon. I bought groceries and then went to the travel agent to get a plane ticket to Budapest. Gitte met me there and we bummed around Paris (!), returned to her studio (room), and then went out to dinner. I really like Paris. Her studio (room) is teeny tiny but super cute, a 7th floor walk-up with outside toilet, but she only pays like 350 euros. She's in the attic, maids' quarters, near the Eiffel Tower (you can see a lot from her window but not the Tower) with old blue wall paper and about 4 square meters. I kind of wanted to eat at home after getting all those lovely groceries (cheese, pate, wine, yum), but she told me she'd seen a Korean restaurant she wanted to try. This was important bc she was a Korean baby adopted by a Danish (not Korean) family, and she has never eaten Korean food. I believe she still hasn't bc this place was very tasty but not very authentic IMHO (more pan north-west asian, but what do I know?). It was, however, very popular with the Parisiens who lined up outside the door.
The sun set over the Seine, and we walked thru Ile de la Cite and Ile St. Louis and watched the lovers kiss and the people line up for the famous ice cream (something with a B???). She was supposed to go to a birthday party for a Portugese girl she knows (who speaks perfect French) at a club, but I think we both headed home once we found a Metro station. Anyway, I am exhausted and it's after midnight, but as usual I am having trouble winding down. Maybe a little wine will help.... This wouldn't be a problem if Eric were here.
I arrived yesterday after eventless flights and connections. This was a happy change from the last time. The NY-Paris leg was very cold, and I slept badly. I was also disappointed when the girl next to me would not let me rest my feet on hers for warmth. I collected my bags without incident and the RER left shortly after I got on it. Basically, the universe smiled upon me.
I am staying again at the B's Montreuil apartment, but G could not meet me here until 8 PM (I arrived at 11 AM). So, I had arranged to hangout at my friend Jennifer's for the day. As I stepped out of the Metro in her posh neighborhood (the 16th), I was immediately surounded by a marching band advertising something about Brazil and summer. I accepted their flyers (still unread) and marched with them for a block or 2 towards Jennifer's, my welcome parade.
Jennifer's was mayhem. I mean, her place is gorgeous, and she has been painting a lot lately (wonderful!), but the plummer walked in behind me to unclog the shower and the cleaning person (who it turns out had not lost his keys and was unaware that he might have) followed close behind. Jennifer and I went out to lunch at the corner cafe (salade parisienne et un cafe maintenant, si vous plait, pas apre), and then I took the dog for a longish walk. I used the computer and napped for an hour while Jennifer picked up Nell, her daughter (7?). Jennifer is a bonfide goddess for letting me hang there instead of carrying my 60 pounds (no kidding) of stuff around Paris for 8 hours on no sleep.
Nell is super fun and very high energy. But I had to go meet G and his mother for dinner at 8. They are so charming. Over dinner we talked about the recent terrorism in London (horrible! murderers! ...but we are no strangers to protests of the G8 -- just not like that), the failure to EU constitution to pass in France (bc 1-it's too complicated, 2-the EU admin structure is too complicated, and 3-people oppose Chirac, everything he does and all things, always, but G voted for it anyway), and one other super interesting thing that I have temporarily forgotten. (darn it! i should carry a notebook always.)
Then I slept for 10+ hours.
It's been rainy and cold here, no unlike SF in the winter (I wear a sweater!) but it did clear up briefly this afternoon. I bought groceries and then went to the travel agent to get a plane ticket to Budapest. Gitte met me there and we bummed around Paris (!), returned to her studio (room), and then went out to dinner. I really like Paris. Her studio (room) is teeny tiny but super cute, a 7th floor walk-up with outside toilet, but she only pays like 350 euros. She's in the attic, maids' quarters, near the Eiffel Tower (you can see a lot from her window but not the Tower) with old blue wall paper and about 4 square meters. I kind of wanted to eat at home after getting all those lovely groceries (cheese, pate, wine, yum), but she told me she'd seen a Korean restaurant she wanted to try. This was important bc she was a Korean baby adopted by a Danish (not Korean) family, and she has never eaten Korean food. I believe she still hasn't bc this place was very tasty but not very authentic IMHO (more pan north-west asian, but what do I know?). It was, however, very popular with the Parisiens who lined up outside the door.
The sun set over the Seine, and we walked thru Ile de la Cite and Ile St. Louis and watched the lovers kiss and the people line up for the famous ice cream (something with a B???). She was supposed to go to a birthday party for a Portugese girl she knows (who speaks perfect French) at a club, but I think we both headed home once we found a Metro station. Anyway, I am exhausted and it's after midnight, but as usual I am having trouble winding down. Maybe a little wine will help.... This wouldn't be a problem if Eric were here.
[sfgate] Why Do You Work So Hard?
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/gate/archive/2005/07/08/notes070805.DTL&nl=fix
Why Do You Work So Hard?
Is it maybe time to quit your safe job and follow your path and infuriate the establishment?
Why Do You Work So Hard?
Is it maybe time to quit your safe job and follow your path and infuriate the establishment?
Thursday, June 30, 2005
[Christian Science Monitor] A rape victim defies traditional code
A rape victim defies traditional code
By Owais Tohid | Correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor
ISLAMABAD, PAKISTAN – When Mukhtaran Mai, a simple, uneducated peasant of a small village, was gang raped on the orders of a local council, her life was supposed to be over. In Pakistan's tribal and feudal culture, rape victims are usually ostracized. But Ms. Mai refused to back down, dedicating her life to social work and to changing attitudes about women.
"I had only three choices. Either to commit suicide by jumping in a well or shed tears all my life like any other victim in such cases. Or I could challenge the cruel feudal and tribal system and harsh attitudes of society," says Mai in a phone interview with the Monitor.
For three years, Mai has been fighting an uphill battle for justice against the culprits. Monday she is set to appear in Pakistan's Supreme Court to seek punishment for 12 men, including four alleged rapists. Lower courts put one of her attackers behind bars for life, but five other convicted men were freed on appeal because of a "lack of sufficient evidence."
Her case has garnered national and even international attention, thanks to her willingness to speak out both here and abroad. Concerned that she would tarnish the country's image, the government recently banned her from foreign travel, only to back off amid protests. But her greatest impact may be at home, where her boldness has helped change people's perceptions of rape victims, say rights activists.
"She has become a symbol of resistance and defiance in the country," says Farzana Bari, a leading women rights activist who has worked closely with Mai. "For the women's movement, her case is significant as she is showing the cruel face of a system which considers women as property."
The fate of 32-year-old Mai changed when she was allegedly raped by several men on the orders of a self-styled community justice council, known as a punchayat, in the Punjab village of Meerwala. The councils consist of tribal elders and influential feudal lords.
She was punished for no crime of her own. A rival clan went to the punchayat claiming that Mai's teenaged brother allegedly had a sexual relationship with a girl of their clan. Villagers say the boy was merely seen walking with the girl. The punchayat ordered that Mai be raped by the rival clan members to settle the score.
Mai says she shouted and screamed for help while she was dragged in front of hordes of villagers for rape. She walked back to her family house in front of the villagers, shivering, with tears in her eyes. But nobody came forward as a witness in her case.
Initially her parents refused to register a complaint with the police, saying it will bring dishonor to the family and disrepute to the tribe, an attitude no different from traditional practice. But they eventually agreed, due to Mai's commitment to fight.
"I pray to God to get justice as my victory will be the victory of suppressed and oppressed women," says Mai. "God forbid if I lose. Then it will be a defeat for everyone who believes in social justice."
When the case hit the headlines of national and international media, Mai became a celebrity and visited several countries in the West.
Using money she raised abroad, she now runs a primary school for girls and boys. Within two years, the enrollment increased to 350 and she plans to construct two more classrooms. The school's success shows that the villagers trust her, even to teach their kids the Koran.
"I want to see girls of peasants study and make their own identities rather than being caught in the vicious cycle of this feudal system," she says. "I am at peace whenever I see them studying."
Mai also lends a hand to other victimized women, to whom she has become a hero. Though she has helped embolden women in Pakistan, the fragile women's movement has a long road ahead. During seven months last year, 151 Pakistani women were gang-raped and 176 were murdered, victims of the centuries-old tribal custom of honor killings, according to the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan.
A fortnight ago, human rights activists had wanted Mai to go to the US to speak on the issue but the government took her passport and restricted Mai to her house. During a recent trip to New Zealand, President Pervez Musharraf reportedly said Mai was being taken to the US by foreign nongovernmental organizations "to bad-mouth Pakistan" over the "terrible state" of the nation's women. He said NGOs are "Westernized fringe elements" which are "as bad as the Islamic extremists."
Islamabad lifted the travel ban after protests from rights activists, international media, and perhaps most significantly, US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.
Mai, who has postponed her trip until after the court verdict, met with General Musharraf a couple of months ago.
"Someone must have tried to create a misunderstanding as he has always been kind to me," Mai says. "But how could he even think that I will bad mouth Pakistan? I love my country as much he does. I could have sought asylum, but I belong to this country and the land belongs to me."
Mai acknowledges that the pressure on her is daunting at times. "Even some people in the community taunt me, but I don't cry anymore. I only cry when the darkness hides my face. I curl up in my mother's lap but smile with sunrise with more vigor and courage," she says.
Mai wants to get married and she says lots of men have proposed to her. "But they seem to be interested more in money. I could see dollars flashing in their eyes. I tell them if you want to marry me then live with me in the village and serve people. Then they don't return," she says, smiling.
By Owais Tohid | Correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor
ISLAMABAD, PAKISTAN – When Mukhtaran Mai, a simple, uneducated peasant of a small village, was gang raped on the orders of a local council, her life was supposed to be over. In Pakistan's tribal and feudal culture, rape victims are usually ostracized. But Ms. Mai refused to back down, dedicating her life to social work and to changing attitudes about women.
"I had only three choices. Either to commit suicide by jumping in a well or shed tears all my life like any other victim in such cases. Or I could challenge the cruel feudal and tribal system and harsh attitudes of society," says Mai in a phone interview with the Monitor.
For three years, Mai has been fighting an uphill battle for justice against the culprits. Monday she is set to appear in Pakistan's Supreme Court to seek punishment for 12 men, including four alleged rapists. Lower courts put one of her attackers behind bars for life, but five other convicted men were freed on appeal because of a "lack of sufficient evidence."
Her case has garnered national and even international attention, thanks to her willingness to speak out both here and abroad. Concerned that she would tarnish the country's image, the government recently banned her from foreign travel, only to back off amid protests. But her greatest impact may be at home, where her boldness has helped change people's perceptions of rape victims, say rights activists.
"She has become a symbol of resistance and defiance in the country," says Farzana Bari, a leading women rights activist who has worked closely with Mai. "For the women's movement, her case is significant as she is showing the cruel face of a system which considers women as property."
The fate of 32-year-old Mai changed when she was allegedly raped by several men on the orders of a self-styled community justice council, known as a punchayat, in the Punjab village of Meerwala. The councils consist of tribal elders and influential feudal lords.
She was punished for no crime of her own. A rival clan went to the punchayat claiming that Mai's teenaged brother allegedly had a sexual relationship with a girl of their clan. Villagers say the boy was merely seen walking with the girl. The punchayat ordered that Mai be raped by the rival clan members to settle the score.
Mai says she shouted and screamed for help while she was dragged in front of hordes of villagers for rape. She walked back to her family house in front of the villagers, shivering, with tears in her eyes. But nobody came forward as a witness in her case.
Initially her parents refused to register a complaint with the police, saying it will bring dishonor to the family and disrepute to the tribe, an attitude no different from traditional practice. But they eventually agreed, due to Mai's commitment to fight.
"I pray to God to get justice as my victory will be the victory of suppressed and oppressed women," says Mai. "God forbid if I lose. Then it will be a defeat for everyone who believes in social justice."
When the case hit the headlines of national and international media, Mai became a celebrity and visited several countries in the West.
Using money she raised abroad, she now runs a primary school for girls and boys. Within two years, the enrollment increased to 350 and she plans to construct two more classrooms. The school's success shows that the villagers trust her, even to teach their kids the Koran.
"I want to see girls of peasants study and make their own identities rather than being caught in the vicious cycle of this feudal system," she says. "I am at peace whenever I see them studying."
Mai also lends a hand to other victimized women, to whom she has become a hero. Though she has helped embolden women in Pakistan, the fragile women's movement has a long road ahead. During seven months last year, 151 Pakistani women were gang-raped and 176 were murdered, victims of the centuries-old tribal custom of honor killings, according to the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan.
A fortnight ago, human rights activists had wanted Mai to go to the US to speak on the issue but the government took her passport and restricted Mai to her house. During a recent trip to New Zealand, President Pervez Musharraf reportedly said Mai was being taken to the US by foreign nongovernmental organizations "to bad-mouth Pakistan" over the "terrible state" of the nation's women. He said NGOs are "Westernized fringe elements" which are "as bad as the Islamic extremists."
Islamabad lifted the travel ban after protests from rights activists, international media, and perhaps most significantly, US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice.
Mai, who has postponed her trip until after the court verdict, met with General Musharraf a couple of months ago.
"Someone must have tried to create a misunderstanding as he has always been kind to me," Mai says. "But how could he even think that I will bad mouth Pakistan? I love my country as much he does. I could have sought asylum, but I belong to this country and the land belongs to me."
Mai acknowledges that the pressure on her is daunting at times. "Even some people in the community taunt me, but I don't cry anymore. I only cry when the darkness hides my face. I curl up in my mother's lap but smile with sunrise with more vigor and courage," she says.
Mai wants to get married and she says lots of men have proposed to her. "But they seem to be interested more in money. I could see dollars flashing in their eyes. I tell them if you want to marry me then live with me in the village and serve people. Then they don't return," she says, smiling.
Friday, June 10, 2005
(CL) PRERELATIONSHIP AGREEMENT
From Craigslist:
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: anon-71582044@craigslist.org
Date: Wed May 04 06:58:11 2005
The party of the first part (herein referred to as "she"), being of sound mind and pretty good body, agrees to the following with the party of the second part (herein referred to as "him"):
1. FULL DISCLOSURE: At the commencement of said relationship
(colloquially referred to as the "first date"), each party agrees to fully disclose any current girl/boyfriends, dependent children, bizarre religious beliefs, phobias, fears, social diseases, strange political affiliations, or currently active relationships with anyone else that have not yet been terminated.
Further, each party agrees to make known any deep-seated complexes and/or fanatical obsessions with pets, careers, and/or organized sports. Failure to make these disclosures will result in the immediate termination of said relationship before it has a chance to get anywhere.
2. INDEMNIFICATION OF FRIENDS: Both parties agree to hold the person who arranged the liaison (colloquially referred to as the "matchmaker") blameless in the event that the "fix-up" turns out to be a "real loser" or "psycho bitch". (For definition of "real loser", see "John DeLorean My Story", available at most bookstores, or any picture of Bob Guccione in "Penthouse". For definition of "psycho bitch," see Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" or Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction.")
3. DEFINITION OF RELATIONSHIP: Should said relationship proceed past the first date, both parties mutually agree to use the following terminology in describing their said "dating": For the first thirty (30) days, both parties consent to say they are "going out". (This neither implies nor states any guarantee of exclusivity.) Following the first thirty 30) days, both parties may say they are "seeing somebody" and may be referred to by third parties as "an item". Sixty (60) days following the commencement of the first date, either member may elect to use the terms "girl/boyfriend" or "lover" and their mutual acquaintances may refer to them as "a couple". Under no circumstances are the phrases "my better half," "the little woman," "the old ball and chain," or "my old man/lady" acceptable. Furthermore, if both members consent, this timetable may be sped up; however, if either party "gets too serious" and disregards this schedule, the other party may dissolve the relationship on the grounds of "moving too fast" and may once again be said to be "on the market."
4. TERMS OF EXCLUSIVITY: For the first thirty (30) days, both parties agree not to ask questions about the other's whereabouts on weekends, weeknights, or over long holiday periods. No unreasonable demands or expectations will be made; "rights" or "holds" on the other's time. Following the first six weeks or forty-five (45) days, if one party continues to be "missing in action" the "wounded party" agrees to "give up".
5. DATING ETIQUETTE: For the first thirty (30) days, both members of the couple agree to be overly considerate of the other's work pressures, schedules, and business ambitions. All dates will be made at least twenty-four(24) hours in advance; there will be no "running off in the middle of the night to console an old girl/boyfriend", and both parties agree to strike the phrase "but he/she needs me" from their vocabularies. Further, during the first six (6) weeks each member of said relationship agrees to attempt one spontaneous home-cooked meal or to arrange the delivery of at least one unexpected bouquet of flowers.
Following the first forty-five (45) days, both parties will return to their normal personalities.
6. TERMS OF PAYMENT: It is agreed that -- respective gross income aside "he" will pick up the tab at all dinners, clubs, theaters, and breakfasts until: He considers her suitably impressed, He is broke, or He says, "this is ridiculous, you pay!" Not included in this agreement are meals ordered from the bedroom, which are subject to the availability of discretionary funds on hand at the time.
7. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS (occasionally known as the "Why do I bother to keep my own apartment?" codicil): Should said relationship progress to the point where the couple spends more than four nights a week together, every effort shall be made to split the time between their respective apartments. Further, it is agreed that both sides will attempt to silence the lewd remarks of landlords, or roommates. Both will avoid having their mothers call at 7:30 in the morning. He agrees to "pick up after himself" while in residence at her apartment, including washing his whiskers out of the sink, and assisting with household duties. By the same token, she agrees to respect his right to keep his apartment "a mess".
8. THE 90-DAY GRACE PERIOD: For the first three months, each member of the phrases couple agrees to hold the other blameless in the euphoric use of like "Let's move in together," "Why don't we start a family?" and – using archaic terminology -- "Let's get married."
9. THE "L" WORD: For the first sixty (60) days, both parties agree not to use the phrase "I love you." They may love plants, dogs, cats, cars, concerts, or the way a particular pair of jeans fits, but not each other. Failure by one party to abide by this rule will result in the other party using the "G" word ... "Gone."
10. GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION: Any of the following will be grounds for immediate termination and final dissolution of said relationship:
Infidelity: Running off at any time to console an ex-girl/boyfriend, ending any argument with the sentence "My ex used to do that same ...."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reply to: anon-71582044@craigslist.org
Date: Wed May 04 06:58:11 2005
The party of the first part (herein referred to as "she"), being of sound mind and pretty good body, agrees to the following with the party of the second part (herein referred to as "him"):
1. FULL DISCLOSURE: At the commencement of said relationship
(colloquially referred to as the "first date"), each party agrees to fully disclose any current girl/boyfriends, dependent children, bizarre religious beliefs, phobias, fears, social diseases, strange political affiliations, or currently active relationships with anyone else that have not yet been terminated.
Further, each party agrees to make known any deep-seated complexes and/or fanatical obsessions with pets, careers, and/or organized sports. Failure to make these disclosures will result in the immediate termination of said relationship before it has a chance to get anywhere.
2. INDEMNIFICATION OF FRIENDS: Both parties agree to hold the person who arranged the liaison (colloquially referred to as the "matchmaker") blameless in the event that the "fix-up" turns out to be a "real loser" or "psycho bitch". (For definition of "real loser", see "John DeLorean My Story", available at most bookstores, or any picture of Bob Guccione in "Penthouse". For definition of "psycho bitch," see Sharon Stone in "Basic Instinct" or Glenn Close in "Fatal Attraction.")
3. DEFINITION OF RELATIONSHIP: Should said relationship proceed past the first date, both parties mutually agree to use the following terminology in describing their said "dating": For the first thirty (30) days, both parties consent to say they are "going out". (This neither implies nor states any guarantee of exclusivity.) Following the first thirty 30) days, both parties may say they are "seeing somebody" and may be referred to by third parties as "an item". Sixty (60) days following the commencement of the first date, either member may elect to use the terms "girl/boyfriend" or "lover" and their mutual acquaintances may refer to them as "a couple". Under no circumstances are the phrases "my better half," "the little woman," "the old ball and chain," or "my old man/lady" acceptable. Furthermore, if both members consent, this timetable may be sped up; however, if either party "gets too serious" and disregards this schedule, the other party may dissolve the relationship on the grounds of "moving too fast" and may once again be said to be "on the market."
4. TERMS OF EXCLUSIVITY: For the first thirty (30) days, both parties agree not to ask questions about the other's whereabouts on weekends, weeknights, or over long holiday periods. No unreasonable demands or expectations will be made; "rights" or "holds" on the other's time. Following the first six weeks or forty-five (45) days, if one party continues to be "missing in action" the "wounded party" agrees to "give up".
5. DATING ETIQUETTE: For the first thirty (30) days, both members of the couple agree to be overly considerate of the other's work pressures, schedules, and business ambitions. All dates will be made at least twenty-four(24) hours in advance; there will be no "running off in the middle of the night to console an old girl/boyfriend", and both parties agree to strike the phrase "but he/she needs me" from their vocabularies. Further, during the first six (6) weeks each member of said relationship agrees to attempt one spontaneous home-cooked meal or to arrange the delivery of at least one unexpected bouquet of flowers.
Following the first forty-five (45) days, both parties will return to their normal personalities.
6. TERMS OF PAYMENT: It is agreed that -- respective gross income aside "he" will pick up the tab at all dinners, clubs, theaters, and breakfasts until: He considers her suitably impressed, He is broke, or He says, "this is ridiculous, you pay!" Not included in this agreement are meals ordered from the bedroom, which are subject to the availability of discretionary funds on hand at the time.
7. LIVING ARRANGEMENTS (occasionally known as the "Why do I bother to keep my own apartment?" codicil): Should said relationship progress to the point where the couple spends more than four nights a week together, every effort shall be made to split the time between their respective apartments. Further, it is agreed that both sides will attempt to silence the lewd remarks of landlords, or roommates. Both will avoid having their mothers call at 7:30 in the morning. He agrees to "pick up after himself" while in residence at her apartment, including washing his whiskers out of the sink, and assisting with household duties. By the same token, she agrees to respect his right to keep his apartment "a mess".
8. THE 90-DAY GRACE PERIOD: For the first three months, each member of the phrases couple agrees to hold the other blameless in the euphoric use of like "Let's move in together," "Why don't we start a family?" and – using archaic terminology -- "Let's get married."
9. THE "L" WORD: For the first sixty (60) days, both parties agree not to use the phrase "I love you." They may love plants, dogs, cats, cars, concerts, or the way a particular pair of jeans fits, but not each other. Failure by one party to abide by this rule will result in the other party using the "G" word ... "Gone."
10. GROUNDS FOR TERMINATION: Any of the following will be grounds for immediate termination and final dissolution of said relationship:
Infidelity: Running off at any time to console an ex-girl/boyfriend, ending any argument with the sentence "My ex used to do that same ...."
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
[Dear Liliapilia] Car-ism and Dating
A friend has suggested I turn my blog into an advice column. Well, you know I love to give advice, and I do it well most of the time. But I think of the blog as more of an outlet for creative expression. None the less, I received the following request for guidance and it struck a cord with me:
Dear Liliapilia,
One would think that telling a potential date that you don't own a car would be a sexy thing.
Isn't a man who wants to protect the environment for future generations a catch?
No way. Turns out that even the greenest women expect a man to drive them around. I having scared off a few potential dates with this information recently, I began to ask friends how they would responded to the carless man date:
1. Potentially sexy but not very practical.
2. Will I have to drive him around all the time and pick him up?
3. Even environmental girls believe in the Route 66 getaway with our man. So carless in America is stuck and going nowhere.
What is going on?
Signed,
Considering Any Reason for Loser Eco Sorry Saps
(CARLESS)
Since I have already given him my answer, my response here will be of a more analytical, rather than personal, sort. He also posted the question on craigslist and I basically agree with what they said: It shouldn't be an issue. Those girls just weren't that into you. I'm sorry.
On the other hand, a girl (and probably a guy too) can't always tell if they are going to like someone before the first date. The rule of thumb is, as you know, 3 dates before you decide. Elizabeth points out that this is just if you are seriously looking for an LTR (because if you're not, what's the point of hanging out with someone you're not already wild about? You've got your friends for that, and you can pick people up at a party or a bar to get your rocks off). But before that 3 date point, you're supposed to keep an open mind (unless someone really offends you or something).
OK, so back to the car issue.... Obviously, I am a unique cultural phenomenon, but let's start with me. I ran a small (very small) spreadsheet on it, and most of the guys I have dated (that is gone out on 3 or more dates) in the past 10 years have had a car (one road a scooter, some had bikes). These guys range from geeky eco PhD student (no car) to businessman/raver (car). (While it is outside the 10 year horizon, in 1993, I taught my then boyfriend to drive.) While I claim to prefer men without cars, the guys who reached critical time points (3 months, 1 year) all used some variety of internal combustion.
More generally, Sam coaches little league, and his domestic partner, Jess, was watching one day. One of the Moms said to Jess: Which one is yours?
Jess: See the big one who’s coaching? That one's mine.
The Mom: Oh, you're Sam's girlfriend. What's it like to date a guy who doesn't have a car?
Granted, this woman is possibly of a different culture and age bracket than we're talking about. (But on the other hand, I am 34. And our advice-seeker is also in his thirties. So, maybe not age bracket.)
We are all, not matter how well-educated or counter-culture, controlled to some extent by mass media and advertising. Several guys have said things to me about how they chose their car to attract the ladies. Maybe that works on some ladies. Maybe that works on me (goddess forbid!). Or maybe, like the craigslist responders said, it is much more complicated than that, and the ladies CARLESS is choosing are just not looking to fall in love or at least not with him. In fact, and I draw upon more knowledge than should be available, maybe our CARLESS advice seeker is sabotaging his own efforts and going after what he wants from the ladies (whatever that is) the wrong way. [warning: compulsory cliché here] Only time will tell.
Dear Liliapilia,
One would think that telling a potential date that you don't own a car would be a sexy thing.
Isn't a man who wants to protect the environment for future generations a catch?
No way. Turns out that even the greenest women expect a man to drive them around. I having scared off a few potential dates with this information recently, I began to ask friends how they would responded to the carless man date:
1. Potentially sexy but not very practical.
2. Will I have to drive him around all the time and pick him up?
3. Even environmental girls believe in the Route 66 getaway with our man. So carless in America is stuck and going nowhere.
What is going on?
Signed,
Considering Any Reason for Loser Eco Sorry Saps
(CARLESS)
Since I have already given him my answer, my response here will be of a more analytical, rather than personal, sort. He also posted the question on craigslist and I basically agree with what they said: It shouldn't be an issue. Those girls just weren't that into you. I'm sorry.
On the other hand, a girl (and probably a guy too) can't always tell if they are going to like someone before the first date. The rule of thumb is, as you know, 3 dates before you decide. Elizabeth points out that this is just if you are seriously looking for an LTR (because if you're not, what's the point of hanging out with someone you're not already wild about? You've got your friends for that, and you can pick people up at a party or a bar to get your rocks off). But before that 3 date point, you're supposed to keep an open mind (unless someone really offends you or something).
OK, so back to the car issue.... Obviously, I am a unique cultural phenomenon, but let's start with me. I ran a small (very small) spreadsheet on it, and most of the guys I have dated (that is gone out on 3 or more dates) in the past 10 years have had a car (one road a scooter, some had bikes). These guys range from geeky eco PhD student (no car) to businessman/raver (car). (While it is outside the 10 year horizon, in 1993, I taught my then boyfriend to drive.) While I claim to prefer men without cars, the guys who reached critical time points (3 months, 1 year) all used some variety of internal combustion.
More generally, Sam coaches little league, and his domestic partner, Jess, was watching one day. One of the Moms said to Jess: Which one is yours?
Jess: See the big one who’s coaching? That one's mine.
The Mom: Oh, you're Sam's girlfriend.
Granted, this woman is possibly of a different culture and age bracket than we're talking about. (But on the other hand, I am 34. And our advice-seeker is also in his thirties. So, maybe not age bracket.)
We are all, not matter how well-educated or counter-culture, controlled to some extent by mass media and advertising. Several guys have said things to me about how they chose their car to attract the ladies. Maybe that works on some ladies. Maybe that works on me (goddess forbid!). Or maybe, like the craigslist responders said, it is much more complicated than that, and the ladies CARLESS is choosing are just not looking to fall in love or at least not with him. In fact, and I draw upon more knowledge than should be available, maybe our CARLESS advice seeker is sabotaging his own efforts and going after what he wants from the ladies (whatever that is) the wrong way. [warning: compulsory cliché here] Only time will tell.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
London's traffic tactic piques interest in S.F. / Congestion eased by making drivers pay to traverse busiest areas at peak times
London's traffic tactic piques interest in S.F. / Congestion eased by making drivers pay to traverse busiest areas at peak times
It got 3 articles in the Chronicle over the past few days!
It got 3 articles in the Chronicle over the past few days!
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
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