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In lumine Tuo videbimus lumen

That's the motto for Columbia University, one of the most respected Ivy League schools in America, situated in one of the most progressive cities in the nation. It reads "In Thy light shall we see the light". And after the recent bullish political antics of the institution's president, couldn't be more of a joke.

I'm a bit behind the times these days, not paying much attention to the politics of life - with our move back to the States coming up in less than two weeks I'm preoccupied and honestly, I find the neverending soap opera that is the world political stage quite boring (for it's hopelessness) lately. But when I received numerous emails from friends and colleagues in New York about the uproar Ahmadinejad's visit to the East Coast had caused I dug further and found, among others, this LA Times article.

The news out of New York (ie: the American media) is that the Iranian president had the usual inflammatory, oddball things to say - most notably his statement that there are 'no homosexuals in Iran'. (While he personally may not know of any, they certainly exist. But in a country where these things are punishable in the most violent ways who on earth is going to flaunt it?) In any case, maybe I'm picking on the wrong character here, but it wasn't the self-fulfilling prophecy of whatever bizarre things Ahmadinejad had to say that upset me, but rather the equally bizarre behavior of Bollinger, the president of Columbia, who introduced Iran's leader to his student-body audience with a thirty minute speech chock full of blatant insults and sheer rudeness aimed directly at his guest. The introduction consisted of the words: 'astonishingly uneducated', 'belligerent', 'ridiculous' and 'preposterous'...

As the head of a highly respected educational institution Bollinger had a responsibility to choose his words carefully; he spoke for his faculty, he spoke for the students who pay through the nose to patronize his holier-than-thou college, and in some ways, as the host of this charade, he spoke for New York and America in general. So, what did this figurehead do with the very rare and precious opportunity for a civilian to speak directly with one of the most controversial political leaders of our time? How did he approach what could have been a true learning opportunity for not only his students, himself, but his guest and our nation as a whole? He took the stage for the sheer purpose of vomiting his personal opinions all over Ahmadinejad and then abandoned him to the audience's pitchfork questions.

I'm not saying Ahmadinejad should be handled with kid gloves; but a certain amount of respect and kudos should be afforded the man who stepped out of his own comfort zone in order to communicate directly with university students in our country. Ahmadinejad is a professor himself, teaching at Tehran University (where his own students sometimes protest in the streets outside) and as such, it would seem an especially meaningful allowance on his part to take the time to visit with Columbia. Whatever his own political agenda, whatever the state of human rights in his country - he made the effort; and gave us, the citizens, a chance to speak with him firsthand instead of hearing him through the thick filter of bureaucrats and media translations we're usually fed from. And what on earth did we learn about Iran or it's leader from this very public verbal stoning? As far as I can see, absolutely nothing; and all because Bollinger took it upon himself to devolve the summit into a personal sounding board. What did we learn about ourselves? Plenty, I hope...but I'm not holding my breath.

Ahmadinejad said a number of strange things after Bollinger handed him over to the crowd. But one thing he said that makes perfect sense, and we'd do well to learn from was, "In Iran, when we invite a guest, we show them respect."

After the event was over Bollinger touted himself as a 'speak[er] of truth to power', lauded our nation's freedoms of opinion and speech, and those freedoms truly are things to be celebrated - but his arrogant waste of an opportunity for real discourse is an absolute shame and makes a mockery of our nation and it's 'freedoms', ultimately further proving what the rest of the world already says about America behind it's back, that we are a nation of loud-mouthed bullies. That's the truth everyone else is speaking in nearly every country on the planet today, in light of this event.

If Bollinger had upheld the high standards of his Ivy League school, if he had taken the motto "In lumine Tuo videbimus lumen" to heart it quite possibly could have been the single most enlightening and future-forward movement to take place between Iran and America in the last thirty years. But no, instead, Columbia's face-man threw that very possibility straight into the trash. Not exactly what I would call 'seeing the light'.

Keep your umbrella to yourself

I hesitate to publish this, even as I hit the button that will send these words into cyberspace...In fact, I've been sitting on it for weeks. But whatever. Haters, please don't send me 'anti-Islam' messages. And pundits, don't bother with the lecture on my lack of political savvy and patriotism. (If you're going to anyway...please check your spelling - it gets kind of tedious deciphering angry verbless prose, especially when it's full of typos.)

I'm American, and I'm also Muslim - recently converted to Islam out of love for my Persian husband, yes...but first and foremost out of my respect for the philosophy that is inherent in the faith.
Before you offer me your knee-jerk reactions to that statement, consider this: Islam shares the same basic tenets as Christianity, Judaism, and nearly all other major world religions. They're all essentially based on the same concept: love, forgiveness, compassion for others. Granted, some individuals have skewed the message of Islam into a bizarre and violent movement, but don't assume for even one second that just because I am Muslim, or anyone else for that matter, that these negativities prevail across the entire population. I have nothing in common with Osama Bin Laden, aside from the fact that we agree that Bush is kind of a pinhead, and we are both Muslim. The relation begins and ends there. For the record, I also think Osama is a pinhead (there are much, much stronger terms I could apply to both figureheads, actually...but for the sake of civility I'll leave it at that.) With all of this in mind:

When I saw the news report that Osama Bin Laden had released another video tape and that in it he encouraged the American people to convert to Islam as a way of staving off further death and destruction, my first (and very sarcastic) reaction was, 'Well, I guess I'm covered then...'

But the truth of the matter is, simply being Muslim isn't what these people want for the global population. That isn't the point, and conversion isn't enough to satisfy them. There are a number of sects within Islam, I happen to sit on the Shiia side of the fence and for this reason I am just as subject to Osama's wrath as any other non-Muslim American. Shiia is a true minority in the grand scheme of the Islamic faith, with Iran being the only largely Shiia country on the planet. Al Q'aeda, Osama's own personal army, is Sunni. That's not to say that Sunnis as a whole are inclined toward this kind of fanatical expression of the faith; I'm just pointing out that Al Q'uaeda is a Sunni-based group and that because I am part of the Shiia belief system I am also on their shit list.

Why is this important? Because, as I said, it simply isn't good enough, in their eyes, that people should convert to Islam. You're technically expected (according to Osama's rules of the game) to pick sides. Sunnis have, historically, warred against the Shiia sect just as much as any other group (Americans, westerners, capitalists, etc.). Many of the acts of terrorism carried out inside Iraq in recent years were directly targeted at Shiia religious travelers who were journeying to and from holy Shiia shrines inside the war torn country. Their faith is so strong, they willingly cross the border from Iran into Iraq just to get a glimpse of these holy places, and they are cut down by other Muslims without a second thought.

The endless news reports from inside Iraq about how the country had to build literal walls inside Baghdad to keep the two groups apart is further evidence of the infighting that continues among Muslims.

The thing that troubles me about the news reports and discussion surrounding Osama's video (aside from his crazy vision that the entire world pray a specific kind of assan with him every day), and just about anything else related to terrorism these days, is the singular focus on Islam as a whole. The lack of explanation, differentiation, and analysis of the historical relationships within Islam leads to this 'they all look the same' mentality whereby anyone who is Muslim is automatically pegged as 'the other' and is viewed as a potential threat.

I get that the concept of 'Love, see no color' doesn't really work, particularly when applied to something so personal as religious belief...there is not going to be any hand-holding and singing about this. This is not a war that can be won with a big dose of love and happy thoughts. But it is a war simply because the 'other side' (ie - Osama) has made it so; and these people, whatever religion they brand themselves with, are just plain scary. But I feel the need to at least point out that not every Muslim is a terrorist, and not every call to Islam is an open ticket to safety. It may sound ridiculously obvious, but with hundreds of news stories every day directly associating 'war', 'terrorism', and 'death' with 'Islam' - there is a certain amount of mental and social conditioning going on under the surface. For every report you read that 'Muslim' or 'Islamic' terrorist groups have done such and such, how many stories do you see that explain the deeply splintered internal structure of Islam; or better yet, explore the softer, everyday side of what it is to be Muslim? And how deep does your own investigation into one of the oldest faiths on the planet ever actually go?

Well, I'll tell you one thing about Islam, it isn't anything strange or bizarre and it's not based in violence...it's just people living their lives, sharing faith in God and hoping this umbrella of misunderstanding doesn't cast the devious shadow of suspicion over them too because some pinhead with a video camera has a big mouth and crazy ideals.

So gross

I remember once in a university Philosophy class reading a very funny paper written on American culture from an anthropologist's perspective. The way in which it was written was so wry; examining the many strange 'rituals' American men and women participate in including: wrapping a piece of decorated fabric about the neck (wearing ties) and reclining inside heated solar shells to cook the skin a golden brown (tanning); on and on it went detailing our ridiculous pursuits in a hilariously serious tone of voice. I honestly can't recall the exact details but it was such a fresh perspective on what it means to look at and experience another culture from the outside, the gist of the paper has stayed with me for years.

And so it is with this open minded attitude I've experienced the very foreign world around me for the past four years. I've marvelled at social customs and inherent habitual activities all the way from India to Iran and then some and I've come away a better, more educated, more well-rounded person for it. But something is terribly wrong here in Nepal and it's not the Maoists seated in Parliament. Woven within the fabric of life in this country is the incessant habit of hawking up snotballs and spitting them loudly and wildly in any direction that happens to suit the spitter. I don't really see how spitting can be tagged a cultural phenomenon but, apparently in Nepal it is so socially ingrained as 'acceptable' that men and women alike spend inordinate amounts of energy sucking all the goo out of their throats clear down to their intestines and spitting it out.

It happens at home, it happens in public, it happens in taxis, it happens at dinner over momos and 650 ml. bottles of Tuborg beer, it happens in the morning during the brushing of teeth (toothpaste spit is dispensed of in an equally disturbing manner: off the roof or balcony into the street below). I have heard and born witness to more loogies than I care to recount.

And it's just so gross.

Our neighbor to the back gets up every morning, early, and stands on the roof of his building with a toothbrush in one hand and a cup of water in the other. After much energetic tussling with the dental work he puts down his hygeine tools to stretch his arms, swing them side to side and then with all the gusto of someone about to puff into a trombone he snarfles and gurgles until every last drop of loose fluid has congealed in his mouth, swings his arms some more, and then spits it all out into my garden below. Not only do I have a problem with his giant piles of ick in our rosebushes but I wonder every time I witness this ritual why on earth he doesn't spit first, brush later. The logic escapes me.

Today we were returning from lunch and as our taxi rounded the corner toward our house I spotted one of the single most beautiful human beings I've ever laid eyes on. She was probably 15 or so with long brown hair, a plump face, and the natural beauty of someone who doesn't spend an ounce of energy on upkeep. She was dressed plainly, idly sitting and talking with two boys outside a little market, playing with the folds of her long not-particularly-stylish skirt - but she was so, so truly pretty I wished I had my camera. And then, forever shattering the artful image of her lovely face in my memory, all at once her features contorted into a mask of raised-eyebrow, flared-nostril sniffling and I heard her breath raking through her chest, collecting gunk on it's journey through her body. She then turned and spit the stuff out in a long stream that reminded me instantly of Popeye for a reason I still can't place; and as she did, her eyes caught my own now-horrified expression but there wasn't even a whisp of embarassment in her face. She then wiped her doll mouth with the back of her hand, kissed her boyfriend, and wandered off down the street.

I realize I'm a guest here but I can't help think that this kind of behavior, in America...at least the part that I'm from, would be social suicide for a girl, pretty or otherwise.

Where the wild things are

There was a frog in our bathroom last night. There have been other frogs. Many, actually. We found a frog in our kitchen a few weeks ago. He was just jumping around over by a window looking very much out of place on our marble floor until I scooted him back outside. There are mice under the first floor stairs and often entire flocks of birds in the third floor bedroom (you have no idea how creepy that is). There are mosquitos and spiders and ants and all kinds of many-legged creatures I cannot identify that squiggle around and out from their hiding places.

My parents had a ceramic frog in one of our bathrooms while I was growing up; a cute throwback to their once-upon-a-time 70's bell bottoms and leisure suits - but the frog last night was not so much ceramic. He hopped across the bathroom floor, eyeing me, probably estimating the likelihood of my eating him.

Knowing Mooshy's penchant for chewing on such things (we've caught him with birds, frogs, and mice hanging limp out of his little shark mouth more than once) I leapt into rescue-mode and frantically went to look for something to slip on like a glove. I'm not exactly a priss but I did read somewhere that touching a frog can kill him because of his porous skin, and far be it from me to be the reason something's going to die. The only thing near enough to be of use was one of Hamid's socks, poking out of the tops of his black Levi's monkey boots...the socks were clearly not clean but whatever. With my stinky sock-glove in place I cornered the frightened little amphibian and carefully scooped him up; his rubbery legs straining out in all directions inside his odiferous prison. At this point he must have been certain he was being eaten, swallowed whole - so I ran through the house yelling at absolutely no one to get out of my way 'Frog coming through!' and out into the back of the garden where I uncermoniously dumped him into the mud with a huge sigh of relief and a feeling of accomplishment. I sat there in my frog-inspired reverie, willing the stunned creature to make a move already but then the dog swooped in and made a light snack of my rescue. Damn.

Letters to companies that suck

I just sent a letter to our hosting company, which used to be the best on the planet in my estimation but is fast becoming a big lumbering wildebeast of an IT enterprise. I can't figure it out - what happened that took them into a careening, sharp left turn toward disaster...perhaps they're just getting too big for their virtual britches. Who knows what the problem is. All I know is my site was down for the entire day yesterday, not to mention a number of our other websites and all because the hosting company provided us with a polluted batch of IP addresses; sort of like the grocery market here in Kathmandu happily selling obviously moldy bread and blackened mayonaise right off the shelf; which I'm equally inclined to rant about now that I'm on a roll. (My analogy may not mesh seamlessly, but you get the idea.) With our webhost, it's not just the one incident, but numerous others, now all piling on top of eachother to produce a leaning tower of frustration that threatens to topple over and take us with it into the rubble of a company that is now my blueprint for me for how *not* to do business.

And of course there are always those companies who are just rank from the get go, like our local ISP who gouges us for U.S. standard prices but provides truly third world service...but for the sake of brevity and sparing you the traumas of what it is to run a business from anywhere on the outskirts of technology I'll just move on to the case in point.

What is this swift degeneration that happens to so many small companies when they get an economic fuel injection? I saw it happen with my cel service provider back in the States when a smaller company was merged with mega-giant AT&T, I saw it happen with my landline service company US West when they underwent some kind of internal transition and renamed themselves Qwest, I saw it happen with Whole Foods - easily my favorite place to shop regardless of the many times I encountered sullen cashiers who seemed to resent my innocent purchases of tofu and organic fruit and flung my cash around as if it was an insult to them to have to count out my change.

Hamid and I make it a point to study incredible business models - smaller companies who are taking the old ways of doing things and mashing them up into exciting new standards or better yet, writing them over from scratch with nary a nod to old-school entrepreneurship. We strive to mimic, not their literal moves or agendas, but their overall approach and philosophy to the way business is accomplished.

We now talk about growth weekly; worrying over the long term satisfaction of our existing clients who've been with us since the seedling of our little enterprise brought in it's first dollar. We're constantly marking up ways in which to protect them from the one thing every business desires but is in danger of suffering from at the same time: success. Sure, I want us to get bigger, make more money, build more stuff, network at higher levels of commerce - but at a loss to my core values system? No way. It is, after all, called a 'business relationship' and for me, the more important qualifier in that term is the secondary - because if I'm not relating to the people I'm working with then I'm just another cog in the capitalist wheel, churning out an income like a robot. And I want more. And our bank account is proof positive that so does the purchasing public. We study incredible business models, but I'm realizing that there is just as much, if not more, to be learned from the lame ones. Particularly, the ones that had it right but lost their grip.

And when I have to use thick phrases like, 'I may not be your biggest customer, but if these things aren't resolved, I'll certainly be your loudest...' to converse with a company I used to send veritable love letters to you can pretty well bet that something, somewhere along the way has been lost - grip or otherwise.

Are you listening Acenet?

2bit URL

Hamid is forever coming up with these funky little programs - we decided to give this one a proper home with it's own URL. Check out 2bit URL, use it, love it, tell everyone about it. It's good karma!

Dog money

Mooshy struts around the house like he's some kind of mob boss; insisting his entitlement to all things human. I try to remind him once in a while with half a bottle of water dumped over his head that *I* am the original gangster but he is generally nonplussed.

Otherwise, the little mongrel is turning out to be fairly well trained - perhaps the snipping action had something to do with it after all (now there's a thought - emasculation made him smarter...there's a thesis in there somewhere I'm sure.) Whatever the reason, he suddenly understands 'sit', 'lay down', 'go outside', 'time for bed', 'find your ball', 'shake', 'hide and seek', and a number of other good-dog things. Hamid and I showcase Mooshy's skills to eachother daily and marvel over how terribly smart and cute he is. Like all dog parents we think our very own is the best and brightest of the breed, and as far as I'm concerned he is, except for the fact that he won't actually do *anything* we ask of him unless there's food involved.

Toward a semblance of order in the house we buy five dollar bags of gigantic dried strips of buffalo meat, his favorite bedtime snack; now referred to in sing-song, whenever we really do need him to listen, as 'beefalo'. Mooshy's mafioso attitude melts to pliable tail wagging furball whenever a chunk of beefalo is presented. Beefalo, I have discovered, is the currency of love in these parts. It's how I buy his cooperation. Where just a minute ago he was happily ignoring my increasingly anxious requests to stop jumping on the nice (frightened) man who came to deliver our water; now, like a paid stooge he waits, meek at calf level, sniffing anxiously after the dead beast in my pocket. Not so tough after all; easily bought. The man heaves 20 litres of water at us and scoots out through the garden gates just as fast as his little legs will carry him. Mooshy, blissfully unaware that his victim is escaping, noshes on his fix. Peace reigns supreme. For now.

Feeding the Buddha

We finally managed to hire new gardeners this month - with the almost incessant rain falling during the past two, our grass, vines, flowers, and trees had become a completely jumbled *mess*. Honestly, I liked it that way, but we're preparing to leave and it just didn't seem right to impose my own wild aesthetic on the next potential tenants.

The team consists of two local guys, brothers - and they come every weekend to chip away at one section of the garden at a time. It's looking a bit like a half-shaved head at this point and certainly isn't to my liking, so naked. But they do a great job and we're lucky to have them here. They work hard, sweating in the blessedly sometimes-present sun and laughing with eachother over Mooshy's relentless tailgating while they're trying to work.

They've cleared out the dead and brown corn crop, cut back the squash and bean vines that had crept out of their marginal sidegarden and toward the house; wrapping themselves up and around every possible vertical surface along the way. And they've mowed about one fifth of the gigantic lawn; grass now clipped golf-green short near the balconies, still a foot high out toward the compound walls.

I peek out at these nature tamers every now and then, not to check up on them as their work is efficient and nonstop each time they visit us, but just to make sure Mooshy hasn't crossed that threshold from cute to absolutely annoying as he is so often inclined to do.
Yesterday, during one of my regular spy missions I watched as one of the brothers took an ear of corn, harvested from what was left of our garden's seasonal bounty, and place it at the base of the large black statue of Buddha that sits at the right of our house. He lit a stick of incense and added it to the shrine. Then, carefully picking an individual kernel from the orange cob, he stuck it smack dab onto the Buddha's mouth.
A gentle gesture of respect for his God.

He sat quietly before the statue, head bowed, while the incense burned and wafted around him...meditating. And then, as soon as the scented stick had run its course, he reached behind him, snapped up his clipping shears and jumped up to return to work.

Mooshy, never one to show respect for much of anything, immediately slunk in behind the devotee's turned back and stood up on his hind legs to sniff the offering that had been left behind. For a moment it looked just like he was kissing the Buddha. He then quickly made off with the ear of corn at the icon's feet. I dare say, the Buddha wouldn't mind much, and our little canine thief was kind enough not to steal the morsel of food directly from his mouth.

Kathmandu, Nepal

Kathmandu, Nepal

LinkedIn or locked out?

I don't talk smack about other sites, companies, or people here simply because it's bad form and like my mom (and every other mother on the planet) says, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all..." but a recent email conversation with the support team at LinkedIn has inspired me to break my code of silence just this once.

A little background: I've had a profile at LinkedIn for about a year, but never paid it very much attention. As a general rule I don't like social networking sites where panties and profanity are predominant profile attributes, which is the same reason I finally ditched my old MySpace account. But LinkedIn promised to be different; a business-networking based model, sans underwear and swearing; and when a major client requested my presence on the site I could not refuse. Since I work only on referral now anyway, it seemed like a great way to enhance and reinforce that decision while building up potential clientele. But even so, my profile languished with only the minimal attention it took to set it up, I never even made it public. And until recently that was fine with me. But in the past few weeks I've received further invitations from other clients and their colleagues which meant it was time to update the profile and send a few invites of my own.

Two weeks ago I logged in to my account and tried to accept an invitation. It sent me to the sign in page and then forwarded me to the main page of my profile. I decided to try to edit my details and was again asked to log in and then sent to the main page. This went on for a good fifteen mintues; me trying to edit this and that or accept or send a handful of invitations and each and every time I ended up with a log in request and a redirect back to the main page.

I checked my cookies, checked their FAQ. Nada. Everything seemed fine. So I sent them a support request asking what was up, was I doing something wrong? Were my cookies oxygen deprived, or what? Is it because I stayed on IE6 (so we could septuple check our designs and code against all possible browsers?)
No reply.

A week ago I tried again to log in with the intention of going through my laundry list of updates and messages but the same exact things happened again. Frustrating to say the least. So I sent in another support ticket noting that it was my second request and could someone please help me.

I received the following reply:
Hi Tess,
Thank you for contacting Linkedin Customer Support. We do apologize for the looping authentication issue and any inconveniences that this may be causing you. We are aware of the issue and are diligently working on a permanent resolution for it. In the mean time we have found that the overwhelming majority of Linkedin members that are experiencing this issue have found temporary relief by using the Firefox browser to access their Linkedin accounts. Please try this and let us know if it helps you. If not please let us know so that we can further assist you in regaining full functionality to your account. If you have any further questions please feel free to contact us. Thank you for using Linkedin."

This really made me laugh for a number of reasons: first, as a website designer I tried to imagine telling my clients or their users, "Oh, can't use the site? Have you downloaded this other browser yet? Give that a shot and let me know how it goes!" or "Gosh, are you still on IE6?? Sorry, we don't code for that browser anymore."
Second, I can't even fathom a site I've got my name behind, my design on and running on Hamid's code going lax with such a major useage issue for such a loooong period of time. It's insane to think of saying to a client, "We're aware of the problem but we're really having a hard time figuring out how to fix it for you these past two weeks, please leave a message..."
And third, what is this pushing Firefox on me? Are LinkedIn and Firefox mutually exclusive now? Are we going to have sites that not only state "Looks better in X resolution." but "Does not function unless you're on X browser."?

We code up the kazoo to make sure people of all browsers, JavaScript enabled or not, Mac or Windows or otherwise, etc. can use our sites, our client sites, and all the gadgets and clickable things that live on those URLs. I may not be the most brilliant designer on the planet but I know darn well that if an 'overwhelming majority' of anyone can't effectively use my site then my site isn't worth the .txt doc it's written on.

So I waited a while. Now, it's been two weeks since my first email. Today I received a notice from LinkedIn letting me know I had X number of messages awaiting my reply and wouldn't I like to log in and take care of them? I guessed they must have resolved the endless looping issue and were letting all of the poor overwhelming majority who had experienced this problem (but hadn't taken their blazing advice to download and install a whole 'nother browser) know that they could utilize their accounts again. No dice. Same problem

I.just.don't.get.it.

I had to shoot back the following question to their support people, along with a little personal philosophy on what 'usability' actually means, how I understand that no code is infallible, and I get that I'm not a major driving force at the site with my little meager profile and >10 contacts but that that was the whole point of trying to get in there in the first place: "Am I LinkedIn or locked out?"

UPDATE: Since posting this, LinkedIn has written back and it seems they really are a bit stuck. I feel sorry for them. That sucks. A friend also pointed out that since we *have* Firefox (and every other browser known to mankind) installed on the other laptop already it shouldn't be such a big deal for me to log in from there to handle my account...ah well, it was worth a whine anyway. The post has also made me increasingly popular on the site, with numerous new link requests coming in over the past few days (many from people I don't know). Ok already, I'll move the two whole feet it takes me to get to the other computer and log in from there. But still...

Premature evacuation

I know, I know...it's far too early to be packing. But that's just what I did this past weekend. I can't help it...it's like a necessity for me. Once I'm emotionally finished with a place, once I'm in that space of acceptance, like, "Yes, we really are going." and/or excitement, like, 'Yes! We really are going!" I'm half packed and basically ready to roll.

This is nothing new, and I've been living out of suitcases for so long I've got it down to a science.

The best part is, I'm going back with one darling Iranian husband and one darling-most-of-the-time Indian street dog in tow and between the three of us we have only three suitcases and a big kennel.

I've packed up all of our personal whatnots from shelves and countertops, aside from the bare essentials. Half of my meager wardrobe is packed and I've started the requisite huge pile of donations: clothes, shoes, cosmetics, etc. Basically anything that I don't absolutely need or will wrench my heart over to give up is slated for donation to a local charity.

I'm ready, let's go.

Pray for us sinners

The phone rang last night. It was Iran calling. Hamid's parents have returned home from Mecca and relayed a story so sweetly profound and full of love I couldn't help but adore them all the more.

As it turns out, there was a whole lot more than praying going on in the Middle East's holiest city this past week. Hdmis's mother bought a little set of baby boy clothes and then went early in the morning to the Kabbah to bless the tiny outfit with a gentle rub against the ancient stones.

I find myself overwhelmed by this gesture of devotion for a child who has yet to amount to even a single divided cell.

Amazing.