Coming Back with Power Power: MIA @ CMJ

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Our favorite Sri Lankan world runner played at Terminal 5 in NYC last night, as part of the CMJ showcase. Terminal 5 is cavernous space with two tiers of balconies, a giant bar island, and draconian crowd-control policies. They made you get into lines to go outside for a smoke.

Doors opened at 7pm. So with nothing but a faintly entertaining opening act (“we’re the new Black Beastie Boys!” was probably their best line) that didn’t do much to help kill the time until M.I.A. came on, people got drunk. Finally around 10pm her presence was felt rather than seen – a roaring, sucking noise as people stampeded toward the stage.

I think she opened with “Bamboo Banga,” but I don’t really remember too well. The next 80 minutes flew by in a blur of jaw-dropping energy, radiating charisma, mind-blowing mashups and the surreal spectacle of pretty white girls moaning “ajaa!!” Continue reading

Torn About Bobby Jindal

I have a slightly different take on Bobby Jindal from some of my co-bloggers here at the Mutiny: I know, if I lived in Louisiana, that I wouldn’t vote for him. I just disagree with him too strongly on the social issues — intelligent design and abortion rights, for starters — to let my sense of ethnic loyalty get the better of me.

But I can’t help but be somewhat torn when I see photos like this:

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The rest of the very interesting New York Times profile explains what this represents: Jindal is slowly winning over the rural white voters in northern Louisiana, staunch Republicans (can anyone say David Duke?) who couldn’t bring themselves to vote for him when he ran for governor four years ago. He’s also learning how to avoid giving the impression that he is an overachieving policy wonk (which he undoubtedly is), so as to better connect with ordinary Louisianans.

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The Hardest Lessons to Unlearn

Amit Varma, of India Uncut, has an OpEd up in the Asian WSJ chastising the National Rural Employment Gaurantee Act (NREGA) in India –

Politics is often about grand gestures, and the Congress Party’s 37-year-old new general secretary, Rahul Gandhi, understands this perfectly. Shortly after landing his position last month, Mr. Gandhi demanded that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh extend a massive cash redistribution scheme, the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (NREGA), to all 593 districts of the country…

As wth most political gestures, the goal of NREGA is certainly well intentioned. In many ways, it’s a more energetic / invasive version of the goal pursued by “living wage” advocates in the US. While our economic interventionalists wish to push incomes higher by raising the cost to employers (invisible unemployment be damned), Indian politicians go many steps further, take the nasty employers out of the question altogether, and directly (attempt to) provide 100 days of government employment a year.

The problem, as Varma dutifully notes, is that a nasty bureaucrat can be far worse than a nasty capitalist –

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On Feeling *Extra* Brown This Afternoon

After finally deciphering and then completing the most challenging assignment I’ve had yet, I grabbed my badge and headed out. I wanted to take a little walk…I deserved to…I was done two hours before I expected to be and I felt a tiny sense of “Victory is mine!” because of it. Since I had skipped lunch, now was the perfect time to get some fresh air (and look for turning leaves). Once outside, I realized that today was the the day for our weekly Farmer’s Market. This made me mindful of how there were a finite number of Thursdays left before the weather would end the charming gathering of, oh, all of a dozen artisans and farmers, and that made me determined to appreciate everything even more. Excessive positivity (and the relief which blissfully arrives after meeting a deadline) inspired my lame ankle to try for whatever spring in my step I could muster. This was going to be nice.he gets my love jones for the cookie.jpg

I wasn’t looking for groceries, I was in search of a treat. I immediately recognized one when I saw a baker and his assistant arranging a decadent array of breads, scones, brownies, muffins and best of all…cookies. If I could list “home-made cookies” under my interests, I would. “C is for cookie, that’s good enough for me”, indeed. I spotted apple cinnamon, oatmeal raisin…then a few dozen peanut butter appeared…and then something which I couldn’t visually place, it was darker than the PB and didn’t have nuts dotting its smooth surface like so many allergy-inducing polka dots. Chocolate chip, my favorite hadn’t been unloaded yet. I smiled at the three women who were crowding the stand, impatient for the official start of the market. Oh yes, I’m not joking– you cannot sell anything until it is exactly 3pm and a bell has been rung. It’s a fair and thus lovely thing, apparently.

While the three, a duo and a single milled between me and those delectable baked petit morts, I observed the women as they observed the baker. Two were old enough to be my grandmother, and one of them had beautiful skin, bright reddish-orange lipstick and very pretty hair. She was so arresting, I couldn’t even look at the other two. I was fascinated, thinking silly AnnaThoughts like “I wonder what moisturizer she uses” and “I bet she wears lots of hats”. I was so transfixed, I almost missed what was occurring directly in front of us. Almost. Thanks to being perpetually high-strung, even things in my peripheral vision cause me to swivel and investigate, so that’s what commenced my micro-Monk-like-adventure: the gesture I saw, which I wish I hadn’t, while I was looking elsewhere. Continue reading

On a Train to Nowhere

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Once upon a time, in a land called “college”, I dated a wealthy white boy from Arizona. He was a nice boy, with nice parents who rushed to embrace and accept me. I was young and eager to be embraced. Trouble was, his mom had an odd way of tacking on an explanation (sometimes sotto voce, sometimes not) to anything “cultural” whenever she addressed me. Implicit in every conversation was the assumption that they would refine me, expose me to the better things in life, elevate me somehow. I shrugged it off time and again until the weight of all that well-intentioned condescension finally felt too crushing: for god’s sake, high art to this family meant Monet’s fucking Water Lillies!! They spent gobs of money on interior designer who made them buy a pool table swathed in beige felt!

I would stand there in my thrift or Army-Navy surplus wear and thrill at the fact that I was secretly turning up my unrefined nose at them, a giant thought-balloon screaming “TACKY!!” rising above my head. I didn’t say anything because it was all so deliciously meta. Also? I was a chicken-shit people-pleaser.

So, anyway, it’s been a great many years since I dumped the guy, but seeing Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited brought on some strange flashbacks.

I’m a sucker for cinematography. Great art direction and visual flair can supplant character development, direction, or even plot, as far as I’m concerned. So naturally, I’ve been a rather ardent Wes Anderson fan. His stilted little diorama-like movies were fine by me. I accepted his narcissistic, self-involved characters because I was watching Anderson’s carefully constructed little world, and if the darker/foreign people were always a little goofy, and not really treated all that well by the main characters, well, that’s alright, right? His world, his prerogative, and all that. Besides, the soundtracks were so great! Continue reading

Benazir Comes Home [updated]

Benazir Bhutto returned to Karachi today, flying in from Dubai to greet large crowds of supporters.

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One is often cynical about Pakistani politics, but it seems to me this is a hopeful event. A lot of things have changed since Bhutto left eight years ago, and I suspect if she ever does return to power she will do things differently than she did earlier. In the short run, of course, she will be an opposition leader, and will have to contend with both President Musharraf and a not-always-sympathetic Supreme Court.

There are, of course, people who doubt this is going anywhere. One such is Adrian Levy, who has a scathing account of the evolution of Bhutto’s power-sharing agreement at Comment is Free (at the Guardian): Continue reading

Sheikh Abdullah and Kashmir 1947-1948 (Guha Chapter 4)

(Part 3 in an ongoing series dedicated to Ramachandra Guha’s India After Gandhi; see last week’s post here. This week’s post is dedicated to Chapter 4, “A Valley Bloody and Beautiful”; next week we will look at Chapter 5, “Refugees and the Republic,” which looks at the problem of integrating millions of refugees into the new Indian republic.)

Guha’s first chapter (of three) dealing with Kashmir, I must admit, left me with more questions than answers, but it may be that the subject of Kashmir — even restricted to two years at a time — is simply too complex to deal with in a thirty page overview chapter. Guha’s goal is to provide a balanced account of what happened in 1947-8 with the Accession of Kashmir to the Indian union (October 26, 1947), and the war between India and Pakistan that followed (which is actually well-summarized at Wikipedia). Guha goes with the line that the Pathans who marched on Srinagar in the autumn of 1947 were surely armed by Pakistan, and were not exactly a “liberation” army (they were only too happy to loot Kashmiri Muslims as well as Hindus and Sikhs in the towns they entered). He also stresses the close ties between Sheikh Abdullah and Nehru, and derides Hari Singh as just another useless Maharaja. He also acknowledges that the role of the UN in 1948 was not particularly helpful, and that effectively the whole issue was going to be punted (1965), and then punted yet again (1999).

We could go back and forth on Kashmir forever. The two major, historically grounded positions in the debate, I think, are the following:

  • (1) The Maharajah of Kashmir, Hari Singh, legally joined the Indian union in 1947, and therefore the territory belongs to the Indian union, irrespective of whether Hari Singh’s action represented the desires of the majority of Kashmiris. A popularly elected Constituent Assembly, led by Sheikh Abdullah, did unanimously ratify the Accession in 1951.
  • (1a) At this point, we should just formalize the Line of Control (LOC), and end the whole thing.
  • (2) The people of Kashmir have the right to self-determination. When it signed the ceasefire in 1948, India promised to offer Kashmiris a plebiscite, where they could decide whether to join India or Pakistan, or remain independent. This it has never done. Moreover,
  • (2a) Sheikh Abdullah always asked for more autonomy for Kashmir, and was eventually imprisoned for it (correction: he was imprisoned when he started to demand independence). Even if a plebiscite is not granted, the demand for autonomy should be taken seriously.

(Is that a fair characterization of the two major positions, and the ancillary points that follow from them?)

My goal here — and I hope you’ll go along with me — is not to reaffirm my own position, but rather to find out something I didn’t know before, and explore new ways of thinking about a very old subject. From Guha’s account, the figure I’ve become most interested in is Sheikh Abdullah, a secular Muslim who saw himself as the natural leader of all Kashmiris. He sided with India in the conflict with Pakistan, but was later imprisoned by the Indian government for continuing to demand autonomy for the region. His complexities are perhaps emblematic of the extraordinarily complex political problem that is Kashmir. Continue reading

Kal Penn in da House, M.D.

As those of you who are fans of House M.D. know already, Kal Penn will be joining the series as a regular next season. This is positive news all around – more screen time for the Penn brother from another mother, which is great because even though he can headline and sell a movie, young actors need all the exposure and steady acting gigs they can get. And this should be good for audiences, because his character seems like a real pataka, and Mr. Modi has no problems keeping viewers amused when you give him material like this:

Bend over and laugh

… [Penn’s character] caught House’s attention in the episode by resuscitating a patient and suggesting that they get her drunk to better diagnose her rare neurological condition. “… [The character] is a fan of trying random methods of exploration and life saving, and isn’t afraid to break the rules a little bit,” [Link]

Lastly, this should be good for brownz all around because we’re finally getting another desi doctor on TV to match the high number of desi doctors in the real world:

By mid-1997 it is estimated perhaps 4% (22,000) of the entire nation’s medical doctors are South Asian immigrants from India or of South Asian descent. It has been claimed that many inner city public hospitals simply could not function if South Asian medical personnel were unavailable as they can constitute as high as 40% of the staff physicians and 50% of the nurses. In Ohio, one out of six physicians is South Asian and several other states approach that ratio. [Link]

Except that I don’t think his character is desi. I haven’t seen the show, so I don’t know for sure, but his character’s name is Lawrence Kutner which doesn’t sound desi to me. In fact, there were two desi actors in the “try out for House’s team” episode — Kal Penn and Meera Simhan — and their characters were named “Lawrence” and “Jody.” Neither one had a clearly desi name, both were probably cast for a character of unspecified race.

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Scaling the ivory minar

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p>Renu Khator is about to become President of the University of Houston [Hat tip: Ruchira Paul]. While this isn’t an issue I’ve followed closely, I suspect that there are few desi, or even asian university presidents in America. Given that female presidents of major (co-educational) academic institutions is a fairly new thing (Harvard just appointed its first), this is a major step forward, even if it is only in Houston .

Khator held the number 2 job at University of South Florida for four years, during which time she turned down offers from 3 different universities. She was the only candidate at University of Houston, basically because she’s a stud:

Khator recruited top faculty and more students from diverse backgrounds while raising millions from government and private sources. During her four years as provost, South Florida’s sponsored research grew by 22 percent, from $255 million to $310 million. She also took the lead reeling in the university’s largest donation ever, a gift worth $34.5 million from a Tampa couple. [Link]

I’m not surprised that she rose through the ranks at major public universities. Private universities are very conservative places because they’re run by wealthy, moneyed alums and their administrators have to get along with them. This results in nepotistic admission policies at elite private universities that try to regenerate the last generation of elites by giving less qualified students from the right families a hand up:

Researchers with access to closely guarded college admissions data have found that, on the whole, about 15 percent of freshmen enrolled at America’s highly selective colleges are white teens who failed to meet their institutions’ minimum admissions standards… White students who failed to make the grade on all counts [GPA, SATs, recommendations, and extracurricular activities] were nearly twice as prevalent on such campuses as black and Hispanic students who received an admissions break based on their ethnicity or race… Leaders at many selective colleges … instruct their admissions offices to reward those who financially support their institutions, because keeping donors happy is the only way they can keep the place afloat. [Link]

Hopefully under Khator’s guidance, University of Houston will cultivate the next generation of elites, a more meritocratic one.

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Econ 101 Works: Call Centers

It’s pretty much a staple of Econ Development 101 that all economies start with crap jobs and that, overtime, competition for workers grows, productivity grows, and thus salaries grow. The amazing thing about India is how quickly we’re seeing it work right before our eyes –

Young people say it is no longer worthwhile going through sleepless nights serving customers halfway around the world. They have better job opportunities in other fields.

…As recently as four years back, the choice was pretty clear,” Karnik said. “Either you got a high paying, good job at a call center or no job at all. Today, not only are there other options, but they are pretty close to the call centers [in terms of salaries].”

“Earlier it was considered cool to work at a call center,” said Nishant Thakur, 19, after the group had dispersed. “That died out quite quickly.” Added Thakur’s friend, Vishal Lathwal, 19, “If you work at a call center today people will think you don’t have anything else to do or were a bad student.”

From wired to tired in 4 years…. wild stuff.

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