the “Stop Kony/Invisible Children” phenomena (and why I hate it)

There’s been a flood of support recently for an organization known as Invisible Children.  According to the official website, their mission is to provide “international support to bring a permanent end to LRA violence through mass awareness campaigns and strategic advocacy efforts.”

Now, I’m not here to criticize the campaign (even though Jason Russell was arrested and I will continue to laugh about that), but instead, its massive popularity and eternal presence on my facebook newsfeed.

“stop Kony! we can do this everyone!”

“ARREST KONY!”

“Donate to Invisible Children! STOP KONY!”

Me during all of this:

Everyone’s talking about “making a change” and activism! But…why have more than half of these people not even donated a single pair of shoes to my well-advertised Soles4Souls collection?

…

And that’s when I realize:

…THEY’RE ONLY DOING IT TO LOOK COOL.

If the above image weren’t proof enough, this is where I start to get mad. I’m mad that people are turning the suffering of so many people, even children, into a fad. Mad isn’t even the right word. More like furious. It absolutely disgusts me. In a matter of months this movement will be almost entirely forgotten, leaving Kony’s victims in the dust. Just another group of “pets” for the Western world to pity, and then abandon so that we can move on.

So what’s the point of all this?

Be genuine. Be sincere. Find an organization that truly fits your interests and support it because it rings true with you. Please, don’t just hop on the bandwagon.

2012
03/28
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Where the Hell is Matt? (2008)

This video has affected me so much. As simple and fun as it is, it really carries a message of global peace. A must-see for any traveler!

2012
03/27
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new dive gear! (translation: Diver -> English: “new ways to risk my life”)

Now you gotta’ understand, for divers (or at least for complete dorks like me), getting new equipment is like Christmas all over again. I recently came to own a bona fide DUI drysuit, which formerly belonged to a commercial diver that as it turned out, had outgrown it.

In the process of trying it on I managed to get my dog and I coated in baby powder. *sigh* At least I smelled like a soapy dream. Maggie, the poor dog, couldn’t have cared less.

Speaking of not caring, reading the labels on these things always makes me giggle out of what I believe is some deep-rooted insanity.

Hope to upload some pics of me in action eventually! I’ll be heading up to Bainbridge quarry soon for some practice for my Advanced dive course.

 

2012
03/27
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rollin’ in the deep with a newbie -DR

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The first thing I knew was that she was panicking. I held her hand for a good three minutes, reviewing with her again how to breathe properly with the reg. stuck in her mouth.

The second thing I knew was that her mouth was gonna’ feel raw as hell in an hour. Teeth just aren’t meant to be clenched that tight together!

My friend Aleks and I journeyed to the Dominican Republic together a couple months ago, and even though I’ve been a little too busy to write about our experience, everything is still pretty fresh in my mind (it is a freaking foreign country in the middle of the Caribbean, after all).

Now, you have to understand. In the Dominican Republic (and in the Caribbean in general, really), it rains every freaking day. Rain, rain, rain, oh my god. Speaking of him, he’s really lucky that I love rain. Otherwise this trip probably would’ve been a flop. Image

During what we liked to call “the rainy season”, we took to staying in our room like losers and ordering room service in dumb accents. We had to wait almost 40 minutes to get any semblance of food whatsoever, and by then it was usually dead cold. Did we care? Not really. We were starving. But my entire inner monologue for these periods was “Dear God, Dominican room service, I will call the U.S. embassy and accuse you of violating my human rights.”

Between journeys off-resort for shopping, I was desperately trying to get Aleks to enjoy my family pastime: Scuba Diving. I was born and raised on the high seas, whereas my sweet friend is a bit of a landlubber herself. She took a couple lessons in the pool, and then I finally got to see some reef.

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*shrug* Like I said. She panicked at first, but she quickly got used to the environment (even if she did commit the diver no-no of tailgating. Shame!). Above you can clearly see me being a dive geek and Aleks possessing eyes the size of dinner plates. The rest is basically just me lamenting the fall of Atlantis.

Moral of the tale? If anyone’s debating going to the Caribbean, STOP AND JUST DO IT!

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2012
03/25
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Gearing up for the DR

For anyone who isn’t aware, I have an eternal devotion to the sea. It’s the way I was raised (and the people I’ve met sure don’t change anything!). That’s probably why I’ve been so excited lately for my trip to the Dominican Republic.

I’ve been to the Caribbean before, but Dominica has always been a future destination of mine, mostly because of the history of its colonization (and awesome dive sites, duh). I’ve been gathering up all of my dive necesities, such as my cert. card, some basic equipment (the rest will be rented, since I don’t want to be put on a suspected terrorist list for traveling with my BC- true story), my logbook, and of course, my DAN membership card. Finding this stuff has been a bit of an adventure in itself, though. Ever wonder what a diver’s shed looks like?

The lawnmower is just for decoration.

I have quite a bit of schoolwork to get through before I leave, so I probably won’t be able to update (at least in great length) again until the departure date, Nov. 6th. Then again, I’ve lately been using my study hall as free time to add to my “stupid ideas” list- Dominican edition!

STUPID IDEAS

  •  Diego Mendez rowed 100 miles across open ocean from Jamaica to Hispaniola after the failure of Columbus’ fourth voyage. Do this in reverse.
  • Pretend to cuddle with a thresher shark. Frighten small children.
  • Befriend a conch salesman (did in the Bahamas, made my life).
  • Befriend a stereotypical Jamaican guy with dreadlocks that makes fantastic fruit smoothies.
  • Meet cute scuba divers. Be eternally joyful.
  • Cry when the cute scuba divers leave.
  • Cry a little more.
  • Hide behind coral and make Aleks think I abandoned her.
  • Sing Boats ‘n Hoes with fellow divers.
  • Pretend the hotel pool is the open ocean.
  • Reenact Deadliest Catch on the dive boat.
  • “BOATS ‘N HOES, BOATS ‘N HOES”
  • Loiter at the dive shop for as long as possible. End up explaining my entire family dive history.
  • Be consumed by scuba munchies and/or get dragged to the nearest restaurant by Aleks.

And that’s just what I’ve thought of so far. Also, airport security relay race.

2011
10/27
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Vi et Animo

Vi et Animo

While rummaging through all my old Mexico photos which my last post brought up, I came across this one of a Christ statue in San Miguel, and it brought back some memories.

Every night on my walk back from dinner (a very light meal there) I would see one or two people kneeling in front of this statue. Of course, I wasn’t really that surprised, knowing how religious much of Mexico is, and also knowing (being Catholic myself) that this was a very holy week. However, I was shocked to see how open they were with their religion. Maybe it’s being raised in an environment that supports your religion more than any other? It’s been so long since I was among those people, yet I still have so many questions about them.

2011
10/13
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Semana Santa: Mexico

About seven months ago, I found myself in the aged mountain city of San Miguel de Allende, in the very heart of Mexico.

Of course, I didn’t really just happen to “find myself” over two thousand miles from home. I was actually visiting with my mom and grandmother, making a tier of generations for the trip. And I think all of us learned something from traveling so far to somewhere not really considered “touristy”.

The most striking thing to me was the level of human kindness here. I was out walking alone one afternoon when I came across a medium-sized stray dog wandering in and out of different shops. His eyes were running, and it seemed rather old. At one point, one of the men selling drinks came out of the shop with a worn old rag, kneeled in front of the dog, and began to wipe its eyes, whispering sweetly in Spanish. The dog wagged his tail in gratitude and licked the man’s hands. There’s no such thing as charity here, kindness is already in their nature.

At first I was terrified (alright, that’s a lie, I’m a huge history geek) and confused (not a lie) when I saw a few guys walk past me dressed as Ancient Roman guards. In fact, I frantically questioned my own sanity. Then I walked toward the plaza and realized the reality behind my mistake. They were only a part of the spectacle. After all, it was Good Friday (which I’d completely forgotten in the rush and stress of travel), and the Mexicans, predominantly Roman Catholics, were celebrating.

I would never have expected to see something like this back in the States, and maybe that’s why it was so remarkable to me. This wasn’t just a different country and a different language, it was an entirely different culture. Not necessarily better, but so much different. The parade ended as the people of San Miguel filtered into the cathedral for morning mass. Not wanting to miss breakfast, we headed toward an open-air café, where I saw the dog from the market area sleeping quietly in the corner.

2011
10/09
CATEGORY
Travel
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Swallowing Stones

I think we can both agree when I say that the best place to start a story is from the beginning.

Before I really even comprehended what ‘foreign’ or ‘far away’ meant, I could spend hours staring at my dad’s old globe. To me, the countries looked like puzzle pieces, with strange names written separately on each one. I would imagine what the people there would look like, how they would speak, what they would wear. Their cultures were never quite the same as mine and that thrilled me. The Atlantic Ocean was more like an oversized pond than a vast sea favored by cold temperatures and unrelenting winds.

As I grew older, that sea became more and more dear to me, and the distant countries I’d often dreamed of seeing one day seemed to become closer. My parents (both very respected divers on the East Coast: my dad was an instructor and Chief Engineer at the former NJ State Aquarium for fifteen years, and my mom was a rescue diver) decided to get me NAUI certified when I was still in middle school at the age of 12. Of course, being a kid that desperately wanted to fit in, I hated this decision.

I did well in the course, and my fellow divers ultimately became my second family, but I hid this from anyone besides my friends at school. I didn’t want to be different in any way. Of course, this was pointless, considering how different I was anyway. I laughed aloud at the popular girls when they said something stupid. I always corrected my teachers without really meaning to. I argued against things that they said simply because I thought differently and they were teaching as though their opinion were fact. Sometimes this made me the class favorite, others, the outcast.

My biggest problems were that I hated being treated like a child, and also that I never was really willing to swallow my opinions for the sake of popularity. As a result, I came to realize that I would never be accepted by the ‘in crowd’.

Once I got to high school, life became so much easier. I never lost my fire, of course, but now I flaunt my SCUBA certification like a gold medal, and people love me for being different. Those foreign countries I see on the globe aren’t so far away anymore, and I know now what it means to hold on to what you know and speak with your own voice, changing the sound of it for nobody but myself. In my thoughts and words, I hope to express how I see the world. Impartially, lovingly, honestly.

 

 

2011
10/08
CATEGORY
Thought
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