Friday, August 6, 2010
A Polish summer
I am in the mountains with my father. It is a small town in the Beskidy mnt range, where Poland's biggest river -- Wisla -- begins. On the first day, as we hiked, dark clouds covered the sky. Grasses leaned to the ground, heavy with mist, and fog lodged in the valleys. We discovered that the bushes on the forest floor are filled with blueberries. They are wild forest blueberries, smaller than their American variety. We filled our stomachs! Yesterday, we went out again, with a blue sky dotted with curly cumulus. It was a five hour hike, and on the way we again gorged ourselves with blueberries and wild raspberries. I've never seen so many! I laid on the grass and could eat the berries off the bushes. A perfect combination of sweetness and sourness. We ate until we could no more, then we gathered berries into glass jars for a breakfast feast. On our way back, we stopped by a farmer's house to get fresh eggs. The kind, toothless farmer went into the barn and gathered the eggs. They were still warm...
Read more!
Monday, May 17, 2010
The borders of culture
A fascinating article in the new Abroad column of the NY Times. Though I don't necessarily agree with the final conclusion. The author misses perhaps the argument about power, the power of those who take and of those whose patrimony is plundered. Oftentimes, those plundered were poor and brown or black-skinned. Historical memory is strong, and there is something to be said about restoring a people's rights to the artwork that's a source of their pride.
Who Draws the Borders of Culture?
By MICHAEL KIMMELMAN
Published: May 4, 2010
IT was gridlock in the British Museum the other morning as South African teenagers, Japanese businessmen toting Harrods bags, and a busload of German tourists — the usual crane-necked, camera-flashing babel of visitors — formed scrums before the Rosetta Stone, which Egyptian authorities just lately have again demanded that Britain return to Egypt. From the Egyptian rooms the crowds shuffled past the Assyrian gates from Balawat (Iraq is another country pleading for lost antiquities) and past the Roman statue of the crouching Aphrodite (ditto Italy), then headed toward the galleries containing what are known in Britain as the Elgin marbles (but in Greece as the Parthenon marbles, or simply booty), where passers-by plucked pamphlets from a rack.
READ MORE AT:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/09/arts/09abroad.html
And here is the rest of it. Read more!
Who Draws the Borders of Culture?
By MICHAEL KIMMELMAN
Published: May 4, 2010
IT was gridlock in the British Museum the other morning as South African teenagers, Japanese businessmen toting Harrods bags, and a busload of German tourists — the usual crane-necked, camera-flashing babel of visitors — formed scrums before the Rosetta Stone, which Egyptian authorities just lately have again demanded that Britain return to Egypt. From the Egyptian rooms the crowds shuffled past the Assyrian gates from Balawat (Iraq is another country pleading for lost antiquities) and past the Roman statue of the crouching Aphrodite (ditto Italy), then headed toward the galleries containing what are known in Britain as the Elgin marbles (but in Greece as the Parthenon marbles, or simply booty), where passers-by plucked pamphlets from a rack.
READ MORE AT:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/09/arts/09abroad.html
And here is the rest of it. Read more!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
the politics of language
A fascinating article about how some in France want to cling to "their" language, to keep it pure and unadulterated. This reflects the debate in the United States, where some espouse the English-only approach... a fear that, under the advance of Spanish, English will somehow disappear or become Spanglish. The problem is that every language is alive, not stagnant. It changes over time, and responds to societal changes. We no longer speak like our ancestors did, say, in the Middle Ages. The banner of a language under siege usually means the fear that a culture or values are under siege. As a political refugee in France, I remember being welcomed, but with a large dose of French exceptionalism: bienvenue, but you must become French like us...
I ADD: There were also many French people who accepted us as we were, and who became my dearest friends.
Pardon my French
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/25/arts/25abroad.html Read more!
I ADD: There were also many French people who accepted us as we were, and who became my dearest friends.
Pardon my French
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/25/arts/25abroad.html Read more!
Monday, April 5, 2010
Healing off the radar
Traditional curanderos a lifeline for the Latino version of health care providers
http://www.oregonlive.com/O/index.ssf/2010/04/traditional_curanderos_a_lifel.html
By Gosia Wozniacka
Photos by Torsten Kjellstrand, The Oregonian
April 03, 2010
When Guadalupe Maldonado lifted a child in her Head Start classroom, acute pain shot through her hip. The Hillsboro woman could barely walk. She visited her doctor and her chiropractor, and took the medication and advice ordered. But the persistent pain prevented her from working.
Her sister mentioned she might try Domitila Juárez.
Now, Maldonado lay on a blanket on the floor as Juárez massaged... her principal pulse points from head to toe for several hours. When she finished, Juárez turned to the large portrait of the Virgin of Guadalupe hanging at the center of her living room wall and whispered a prayer.
"God is the healer," she added. "All the healing comes from him, not from me."
Three days later, hip pain gone, Maldonado returned to work.
Two to three people a day seek out the 68-year-old Juárez for all sorts of ailments -- sprains, aches and pain, anxiety, or hip and back injuries. She sends anyone with an open wound or major fracture to a doctor. Patients come to her Cornelius home from as far as Alaska, and while most are Latinos, she's started to see the occasional Anglo.
She is one of dozens of practitioners of traditional folk medicine in the Portland area who form an under-the-radar network of unexpected health care providers -- curanderos.
They are the Latino version of alternative medicine. Nearly 40 percent of all Americans use alternative treatments, but among Latinos, studies show 44 to 75 percent use traditional folk medicine.
The reasons are many:
Latinos are uninsured at three times the rate of non-Latino whites, so oftentimes it comes down to money.
"Many Latinos use folk healers because other health care is not readily available," says Alberto Moreno, migrant health coordinator for the state Department of Health and Human Services. "The Western medical system is often the last resort for our community, it's so cost-prohibitive."
Latinos face language and cultural barriers -- or fear of deportation -- that can lead to distrust of Western health care providers, says Santiago Ventura Morales, a community leader in Woodburn.
Or there are people like Maldonado who have insurance but turn to curanderos when Western medicine doesn't work.
"Health care in the United States is not holistic; it doesn't satisfy the people's spiritual and psychological needs," says Ventura. "When Latinos go with a traditional healer, they feel complete confidence. A healer is a doctor, nurse, counselor and spiritual guide all in one."
Health care has been front and center of the national conversation for the past year but didn't go so far as to take into account needs in specific cultural communities.
Still, the curandero network, a lifeline to Latinos that fills the gap of health care in their community, remains unregulated and untested. Bringing curanderos into the mainstream could help curtail scams, prevent medical complications and make health care more attractive for Latinos, says Gonzalo Flores, a licensed Portland acupuncturist and practicing curandero.
That's starting to happen across the country and in the metro area. In fact, the services of curanderos might have something to offer mainstream health care, much like acupuncture and other non-Western traditions.
"Rather than thinking that these guys are all witch doctors, we should ask how do we integrate some of the practices with the Western medical model to more effectively serve the Latino community," Flores says. "Curanderos can be a bridge."
***
Both Flores and Juárez were born into families of curanderos. Juárez watched her mother and grandmothers dispense herbs, give massages and deliver babies in her small hometown in Mexico. Later, when Juárez married, "the gift of healing just came," and she continued when her children sponsored her immigration to Oregon 15 years ago.
Juárez doesn't advertise herself, doesn't have business cards, but accepts donations: Maldonado paid $20 for several hours of massage. It's not how Juárez supports herself, though. Until last year, she worked full time at a cannery.
"For me, it's not a job," she said. "It's something that God gives you so that you can give it back to other people."
Flores traces his curandero roots to Tejano and Apache ancestors -- his grandmother traveled around Texas ranches, setting bones and delivering babies.
Flores blends beliefs in cleansing rituals that involve feathers, eggs, incense and Native American prayers, among others. He charges $150 for a cleansing but makes his living as a licensed acupuncturist and specialist in Oriental medicine at GroundSpring Healing Center.
"Traditional healing is part of the Americas," Flores says. "A hundred years ago, Western medicine was the alternative medicine."
***
Curanderismo -- from the Spanish cura for both "priest" and "healing" -- blends indigenous practices and botanical medicines with Catholic and African elements, Flores says. Its holistic approach treats illness as an imbalance with the natural universe.
"For Latinos, healing means a combination of the spiritual, mental, physical and emotional, while Western culture separates healing," says Lucrecia Suarez, a Portland therapist who works at Conexiones, which offers culturally responsive counseling.
In Oregon, most curanderos operate out of their homes; a few run botanicas, shops that sell herbs and "spiritual" supplies; and they specialize -- as bonesetters, massage therapists, herbalists or spiritualists.
With a shared culture, curanderos understand culture-bound comments such as, "I have a curse," and don't dismiss complaints of soul loss, evil eye, jealousy or physical or emotional blockage. These culture-bound issues, Suarez says, are considered ailments only in a specific community.
In fact, Latinos rarely reveal them to Western doctors -- or even that they see a curandero -- for fear of ridicule. But whether Anglos give curanderos credence or not, the placebo effect cannot be underestimated. Improvement in health based solely on the power of conviction is scientifically proven, and ignoring culture-bound ailments can hinder healing, Suarez says.
"The basic principle of psychology is that people believe in the healer and his methods," she says. "All these practices are different doors to the same thing."
***
Trust can be a dangerous thing, though, in an unregulated health industry. Some curanderos are scammers, charge thousands of dollars, sell expired or prescription medication, or give illegal injections. Those should be red flags.
Take, for example, the woman who billed herself in ads in Latino newspapers as Doña Tere. She claimed to be able to cure alcoholism, insomnia and headaches, money problems, even impotence. She could ritually "tie" or "untie" relationships, dissolve bad spells and heal the spirit. "Results in just a few days, guaranteed."
Chronic migraines sent Alfonsa Bustos to Doña Tere every eight days between February and April 2008. Doña Tere asked for $5,000 cash, then more money, then gold pendants and earrings, Walmart gift cards and a television. "The TV was so that I could see the person who put the spell on me," said Bustos. "She told us she would return all the things we brought."
In all Bustos lost about $10,000; others who filed complaints by May 2009 reported they gave Doña Tere between $1,600 and $6,500. Despite half a dozen complaints from residents of Tigard, Oregon City and Salem, the Oregon Department of Justice didn't have enough evidence to pursue Doña Tere, who by that time had disappeared.
Fraud often goes unreported because some fear dealing with the government because of immigration issues, says Tony Green of the state Department of Justice. And the sometimes subjective nature of healing makes it difficult to judge the difference between a dishonest and a reputable healer.
"Even if we could catch them, the victims often feel like they did get something of value, no matter how meager," Green says, "so the cases are tough to prosecute criminally."
***
Integrating legitimate curanderos into the health care system may be an answer to avoid scams as well as lessen the burden of treating serious conditions in emergency rooms.
The Virginia Garcia Memorial Health Center, which runs half a dozen primary care clinics in Washington and Yamhill counties, periodically arranges meetings of doctors with curanderos, says Dr. Lyn Jacobs, the center's family practice physician.
"There's an effort to include them, so we know what they're doing and they know us," she says.
Patients at Virginia Garcia have access to an acupuncturist and a naturopath, as well as a doctor certified by the American Board of Integrative Holistic Medicine, who guides treatments with herbs, supplements, massage and other non-Western approaches. One of the clinics grows an herb garden.
"We believe that allopathic (Western) medicine does not have all answers," Jacobs says.
Other area clinics are connecting, too. In 2005, clinical nurse manager Leda Garside participated in the Oregon-Mexico health professionals exchange. The exchange -- organized by the Department of Human Services' Migrant Health Office and the Mexican Consulate -- took Oregon doctors, nurses and policymakers to Mexico, where they observed curanderos working closely with hospital doctors.
Garside, who works at Salud Services in Hillsboro, learned that many local Latino clients frequent curanderos -- which affects their overall care.
"We always ask, because it's not uncommon, in case it may interfere with the medication we give them," says Garside.
Around the country, Flores says, more medical schools and clinics look at health more holistically, including teaching about curanderos, who can provide cultural knowledge to make health care more affordable and effective for Latinos.
And it's not just Latinos. More Anglos show up at Domitila Juárez's Corvallis home, seeking her healing massages.
Explains Flores: "Americans are becoming interested in curanderos because, guess what, they get the body-mind-spirit thing."
- Gosia Wozniacka
Read more!
http://www.oregonlive.com/O/index.ssf/2010/04/traditional_curanderos_a_lifel.html
By Gosia Wozniacka
Photos by Torsten Kjellstrand, The Oregonian
April 03, 2010
When Guadalupe Maldonado lifted a child in her Head Start classroom, acute pain shot through her hip. The Hillsboro woman could barely walk. She visited her doctor and her chiropractor, and took the medication and advice ordered. But the persistent pain prevented her from working.
Her sister mentioned she might try Domitila Juárez.
Now, Maldonado lay on a blanket on the floor as Juárez massaged... her principal pulse points from head to toe for several hours. When she finished, Juárez turned to the large portrait of the Virgin of Guadalupe hanging at the center of her living room wall and whispered a prayer.
"God is the healer," she added. "All the healing comes from him, not from me."
Three days later, hip pain gone, Maldonado returned to work.
Two to three people a day seek out the 68-year-old Juárez for all sorts of ailments -- sprains, aches and pain, anxiety, or hip and back injuries. She sends anyone with an open wound or major fracture to a doctor. Patients come to her Cornelius home from as far as Alaska, and while most are Latinos, she's started to see the occasional Anglo.
She is one of dozens of practitioners of traditional folk medicine in the Portland area who form an under-the-radar network of unexpected health care providers -- curanderos.
They are the Latino version of alternative medicine. Nearly 40 percent of all Americans use alternative treatments, but among Latinos, studies show 44 to 75 percent use traditional folk medicine.
The reasons are many:
Latinos are uninsured at three times the rate of non-Latino whites, so oftentimes it comes down to money.
"Many Latinos use folk healers because other health care is not readily available," says Alberto Moreno, migrant health coordinator for the state Department of Health and Human Services. "The Western medical system is often the last resort for our community, it's so cost-prohibitive."
Latinos face language and cultural barriers -- or fear of deportation -- that can lead to distrust of Western health care providers, says Santiago Ventura Morales, a community leader in Woodburn.
Or there are people like Maldonado who have insurance but turn to curanderos when Western medicine doesn't work.
"Health care in the United States is not holistic; it doesn't satisfy the people's spiritual and psychological needs," says Ventura. "When Latinos go with a traditional healer, they feel complete confidence. A healer is a doctor, nurse, counselor and spiritual guide all in one."
Health care has been front and center of the national conversation for the past year but didn't go so far as to take into account needs in specific cultural communities.
Still, the curandero network, a lifeline to Latinos that fills the gap of health care in their community, remains unregulated and untested. Bringing curanderos into the mainstream could help curtail scams, prevent medical complications and make health care more attractive for Latinos, says Gonzalo Flores, a licensed Portland acupuncturist and practicing curandero.
That's starting to happen across the country and in the metro area. In fact, the services of curanderos might have something to offer mainstream health care, much like acupuncture and other non-Western traditions.
"Rather than thinking that these guys are all witch doctors, we should ask how do we integrate some of the practices with the Western medical model to more effectively serve the Latino community," Flores says. "Curanderos can be a bridge."
***
Both Flores and Juárez were born into families of curanderos. Juárez watched her mother and grandmothers dispense herbs, give massages and deliver babies in her small hometown in Mexico. Later, when Juárez married, "the gift of healing just came," and she continued when her children sponsored her immigration to Oregon 15 years ago.
Juárez doesn't advertise herself, doesn't have business cards, but accepts donations: Maldonado paid $20 for several hours of massage. It's not how Juárez supports herself, though. Until last year, she worked full time at a cannery.
"For me, it's not a job," she said. "It's something that God gives you so that you can give it back to other people."
Flores traces his curandero roots to Tejano and Apache ancestors -- his grandmother traveled around Texas ranches, setting bones and delivering babies.
Flores blends beliefs in cleansing rituals that involve feathers, eggs, incense and Native American prayers, among others. He charges $150 for a cleansing but makes his living as a licensed acupuncturist and specialist in Oriental medicine at GroundSpring Healing Center.
"Traditional healing is part of the Americas," Flores says. "A hundred years ago, Western medicine was the alternative medicine."
***
Curanderismo -- from the Spanish cura for both "priest" and "healing" -- blends indigenous practices and botanical medicines with Catholic and African elements, Flores says. Its holistic approach treats illness as an imbalance with the natural universe.
"For Latinos, healing means a combination of the spiritual, mental, physical and emotional, while Western culture separates healing," says Lucrecia Suarez, a Portland therapist who works at Conexiones, which offers culturally responsive counseling.
In Oregon, most curanderos operate out of their homes; a few run botanicas, shops that sell herbs and "spiritual" supplies; and they specialize -- as bonesetters, massage therapists, herbalists or spiritualists.
With a shared culture, curanderos understand culture-bound comments such as, "I have a curse," and don't dismiss complaints of soul loss, evil eye, jealousy or physical or emotional blockage. These culture-bound issues, Suarez says, are considered ailments only in a specific community.
In fact, Latinos rarely reveal them to Western doctors -- or even that they see a curandero -- for fear of ridicule. But whether Anglos give curanderos credence or not, the placebo effect cannot be underestimated. Improvement in health based solely on the power of conviction is scientifically proven, and ignoring culture-bound ailments can hinder healing, Suarez says.
"The basic principle of psychology is that people believe in the healer and his methods," she says. "All these practices are different doors to the same thing."
***
Trust can be a dangerous thing, though, in an unregulated health industry. Some curanderos are scammers, charge thousands of dollars, sell expired or prescription medication, or give illegal injections. Those should be red flags.
Take, for example, the woman who billed herself in ads in Latino newspapers as Doña Tere. She claimed to be able to cure alcoholism, insomnia and headaches, money problems, even impotence. She could ritually "tie" or "untie" relationships, dissolve bad spells and heal the spirit. "Results in just a few days, guaranteed."
Chronic migraines sent Alfonsa Bustos to Doña Tere every eight days between February and April 2008. Doña Tere asked for $5,000 cash, then more money, then gold pendants and earrings, Walmart gift cards and a television. "The TV was so that I could see the person who put the spell on me," said Bustos. "She told us she would return all the things we brought."
In all Bustos lost about $10,000; others who filed complaints by May 2009 reported they gave Doña Tere between $1,600 and $6,500. Despite half a dozen complaints from residents of Tigard, Oregon City and Salem, the Oregon Department of Justice didn't have enough evidence to pursue Doña Tere, who by that time had disappeared.
Fraud often goes unreported because some fear dealing with the government because of immigration issues, says Tony Green of the state Department of Justice. And the sometimes subjective nature of healing makes it difficult to judge the difference between a dishonest and a reputable healer.
"Even if we could catch them, the victims often feel like they did get something of value, no matter how meager," Green says, "so the cases are tough to prosecute criminally."
***
Integrating legitimate curanderos into the health care system may be an answer to avoid scams as well as lessen the burden of treating serious conditions in emergency rooms.
The Virginia Garcia Memorial Health Center, which runs half a dozen primary care clinics in Washington and Yamhill counties, periodically arranges meetings of doctors with curanderos, says Dr. Lyn Jacobs, the center's family practice physician.
"There's an effort to include them, so we know what they're doing and they know us," she says.
Patients at Virginia Garcia have access to an acupuncturist and a naturopath, as well as a doctor certified by the American Board of Integrative Holistic Medicine, who guides treatments with herbs, supplements, massage and other non-Western approaches. One of the clinics grows an herb garden.
"We believe that allopathic (Western) medicine does not have all answers," Jacobs says.
Other area clinics are connecting, too. In 2005, clinical nurse manager Leda Garside participated in the Oregon-Mexico health professionals exchange. The exchange -- organized by the Department of Human Services' Migrant Health Office and the Mexican Consulate -- took Oregon doctors, nurses and policymakers to Mexico, where they observed curanderos working closely with hospital doctors.
Garside, who works at Salud Services in Hillsboro, learned that many local Latino clients frequent curanderos -- which affects their overall care.
"We always ask, because it's not uncommon, in case it may interfere with the medication we give them," says Garside.
Around the country, Flores says, more medical schools and clinics look at health more holistically, including teaching about curanderos, who can provide cultural knowledge to make health care more affordable and effective for Latinos.
And it's not just Latinos. More Anglos show up at Domitila Juárez's Corvallis home, seeking her healing massages.
Explains Flores: "Americans are becoming interested in curanderos because, guess what, they get the body-mind-spirit thing."
- Gosia Wozniacka
Read more!
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Photography as we know it
For Photographers, the Image of a Shrinking Path
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/30/business/media/30photogs.html
By STEPHANIE CLIFFORD
The New York Times
Published: March 29, 2010
By the time Matt Eich entered photojournalism school in 2004, the magazine and newspaper business was already declining....
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/30/business/media/30photogs.html
Read more!
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/30/business/media/30photogs.html
By STEPHANIE CLIFFORD
The New York Times
Published: March 29, 2010
By the time Matt Eich entered photojournalism school in 2004, the magazine and newspaper business was already declining....
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/03/30/business/media/30photogs.html
Read more!
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Woman that Glows in the Dark
I live in the crack of an egg.
In the space
between galaxies and earth
mud. Along the thin borders of enlightenment and darkness.
I saw through the smoky mirror, and my third eye winked at me!
Time is an illusion, and eternity lives in the cracks of everything that is dualized.
I like living in the middle of either/or and gray is my color in black/white.
I’m cozy in the nucleus of past/future and
I am the ember seed in light/dark. I am Woman that Glows in the Dark.
I’ll stay awake forever if I have to.
-- Elena Avila, psychiatric nurse and curandera/traditional healer
And here is the rest of it. Read more!
mud. Along the thin borders of enlightenment and darkness.
I saw through the smoky mirror, and my third eye winked at me!
Time is an illusion, and eternity lives in the cracks of everything that is dualized.
I like living in the middle of either/or and gray is my color in black/white.
I’m cozy in the nucleus of past/future and
I am the ember seed in light/dark. I am Woman that Glows in the Dark.
I’ll stay awake forever if I have to.
-- Elena Avila, psychiatric nurse and curandera/traditional healer
And here is the rest of it. Read more!
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