Things I have done recently:
Topic: Whatever
A fat load of nothing all afternoon after meeting with my thesis supervisor this morning. This, after having spent all day yesterday reading until I was cross-eyed because I thought I was woefully underprepared for said meeting. I continue to resist my own efforts to become one of those people who can get things done without a last-minute panic and immediately-after-last-minute burnout.

Had lunch with a friend and wrote a long-overdue e-mail. So the afternoon wasn't a loss on the social front, at least.

Giggled myself silly over the latest offering from Sars, TWoP goddess and Jersey girl extraordinaire.

Marvelled once again at the poignancy of this.

Went grocery shopping at the neighborhood's most inconsistently stocked grocery store. Always an adventure. I'd stop going there all together out of sheer frustration except that they carry a wide range of Eastern European/Turkish goodies which I enjoy perusing, even if I'm not in the mood for Kras biscuits, canned sarma or factory-fresh ajvar.

Started what hopefully will be a regular babysitting job for a local couple Mr Dr recommended me to. The kid is adorable. And possibly a bit too smart for his own good, but that won't be confirmed until he learns at least a few more words. But the way he works the gee-aren't-I-cute grin is indicative of a long toddlerhood for his parents.

Tried to muster up the energy to walk this evening after today's near-melting temperatures, and failed miserably. Plan to attempt an alarmingly out-of-character early morning walk instead. Which means the next thing I ought to do it get myself to bed.

Stuck in my head
Topic: Navel gazing
'Effective professional performance requires that one acquire a deepened awareness of one's own inner self and come to grips with the struggle which confronts all people in the quest to affirm their own human integrity and creativity. The process of self-discovery and self-knowing has an important corollary: having undertaken the journey to discover one's own self leads to acceptance of the parallel journey of others to discover their own true-authentic selves.'

~ Charles Lippy, quoted by Thomas K. Fitzgerald in 'Identity in Ethnography: Limits to Reflective Subjectivity'

I killed a tree today
Topic: Reading
Well, I didn't exactly kill it myself, not intentionally, but I printed out a lot of articles and UN documents today, and I'm feeling a bit guilty about all the paper I used. I thought about trying to read on the computer as much as possible, but I'm close to cross-eyed as it is from spending so much time on the library catalog and Google. Plus, its too hard to take notes switching between the Acrobat and Word windows. So paper it is, and I'll have to use my first post-postgrad paycheck to plant a small forest, rather than putting it to more amusing purposes. In the meantime, the trees can take their revenge on my spine as I give myself scoliosis trying to lug all this paper home in my backpack.

The day's other accomplishment was finishing Men, Militarism & UN Peacekeeping: A Gendered Analysis by Sandra Whitworth. Whitworth covered similar material as the various authors of The Postwar Moment, but approached the issue of masculinities in peacekeeping through the experiences of different countries: Cambodia, Somalia and Canada. An interesting parallel between the two books is that both address incidents where the Netherlands and Canada, "middle" powers who pride themselves on their peacekeeping experience had their national self-image as "the good guys" challenged by peacekeeping incidents - in the Dutch case, the surrender of Srebrenica and in the Canadian, the beating death of a Somalian teenager while in the custody of Canadian soldiers. Both cases highlight the tension between miitarized masculinity and the aims of peacekeeping missions, and provide insights into the myth of peacekeeping as a 'benign' variant of militarism.

Another distinguishing element of Whitworth's book is that she is more explicit in her questioning of the peacekeeping regime, posing questions about the neo-colonial nature of peacekeeping and asking whether the military is the best source for peacekeepers. A significant problem that she sees with current discussions in the UN about gender and peacekeeping is that gender is being used as a tool to solve problems that arise in peacekeeping missions, rather than as a critical tool that questions the underlying assumptions about the appropriateness and benefits of peacekeeping. Ultimately, Whitworth believes that using military forces to keep peace is counterproductive because of the risks to local men and women from peacekeepers.

Whitworth acknowledges that the questions she asks will seem impractical and idealistic to many. Myself, I'm not sure how I feel about the argument she makes at the end of the book that countries are better off without military peacekeepers than they are with them. Having heard Bosnians tell me that they believe that war would start again if the peacekeeping troops left, I'm inclined to give peacekeeping a bit more latitude, maybe. I appreciate, though, that the issue should be explored, particularly in light of the growing documentation of abuses perpetrated by peacekeeping troops. I don't know that its a question that will ever be resolved, but I appreciate Whitworth's willingness to ask it, and the thoroughness with which she establishes why she has been prompted to do that asking.

Update: I just finished Galileo's Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith, and Love by Dava Sobel, while I was eating dinner. I'm very glad that I recently found out that she published a third book, The Planets just last year, because Galileo's Daughter was even better than Longitude, and I think I'm now hooked on Sobel.

Galileo's Daughter is perhaps a slightly misleading title, because the man himself is the major subject of the book. Sobel breathes life into the character of Galileo as only a talented biographer can. But she also offers tantalizing glimpses into the life of his oldest daughter, Suor Maria Celeste, a cloistered nun of the Order of Poor Clares. Suor Maria Celeste was a devoted correspondent of Galileo's, the child (he had three) to whom he could best relate both intellectually and spiritually. Unfortunately, only half of their correspondence has survived - Galileo kept his daughter's letters, but the ones he wrote to her are presumed to have been destroyed by the abbess of her convent, since at the time of Suor Maria Celeste's death, her father was still very much in the bad graces of the Vatican.

Sobel casts Galileo as a man of both science and faith, who could not stop trying to advance the former, but who had no desire to do so at the expense of the latter. Far from seeing a conflict between science and faith, Sobel's Galileo attempts to embrace both, unfortunately falling afoul of Church authorities whose understanding of the relationship between God and the world was less flexible and inquisitive than his own.

As in Longitude, Sobel's account of Galileo's life draws in countless colorful details that paint a rich picture of life in seventeenth-century Italy, from the convent where Suor Maria Celeste spent her days to the cities where her father moved in illustrious circles. The plague, Church politics, convent activities, and the daily concerns of housekeeping thread their way through the story of Galilei family. The ending of that story, as we know, isn't exactly a happy one, but it is a moving one, because Sobel succeeds in making Galileo and Suor Maria Celeste people that the reader can care about as people, not just as historical figures.

Hows about some nostalgia, hon?
Topic: Raving
Kit advertises Mango & Ginger as 'a blog about loving food'. And she does love her food, providing proof in recipes, pictures, and stories about memorable meals. What I like best, though, is that much of her blog is about loving food in Baltimore, because almost all of my best memories of Baltimore involve friends and food: very literally, in some cases - there have been a number of memorable gatherings at Friends in Fells Point, which, despite tough competition from Brewer's Art and Dizzy Issie's, wins my vote for the Baltimore bar with the best food, and could almost do it on the strength of their crab dip alone.

Mmmmmmmm. Crab dip.

Sorry. Got a bit lost there for a second. The crab dip at Friends is that good. But this is not a post about crab dip (mmmmmmmmmmm). Kit's latest post reminded me of one of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday, which was to roll out of bed late and wander around the Broadway Market deciding where to get brunch. The only problem was that there are so many places at the market to choose from, it could take a long time to decide where to eat. But it was a lovely, leisurely way to start off a Saturday, and could, if the mood was right, lead to an afternoon of shopping in Fells Point and an early evening stop at Friends for a beer and crab dip. Mmmmmmmmm. Crab dip.

While Kit's marketing adventures took place in Federal Hill, which is across the harbor from Fells and is one of the Baltimore neighborhoods I didn't spend a lot of time in, basically everything she says about Federal Hill applies to Fells as well - charming, historical, a bit gentrified without having lost all its local color, tends to be overrun with sodden young professionals after work on Fridays, and even more sodden college students from Thursday afternoon onward. But Fells on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon is a lovely place to hang out, and when the colleges are out for summer and winter breaks, evenings there can be quite nice, as well.

I have yet to find a neighborhood in Melbourne that does everything that Fells Point could do. Crab dip is probably too much to hope for, but I haven't found a neighborhood here where I could reasonably spend most of an afternoon and evening doing a bit of eating, a bit of shopping, and a bit of sitting on the waterfront watching people. Some of that is, no doubt influenced by the fact that I definitely have less money, and I feel like I have less time than when I lived in Baltimore, but some credit has to go to Fells Point for getting the mix of activities right and being a good neighborhood to hang out in.

What I know about the world
Topic: Quotidiana

I bought a child's desk when I was furnishing my flat. It was $15, if I remember correctly, and it has no drawers. What it does have is a world map printed on its top, and that's why I decided I needed it.

I fell in love with maps as a child. I think I was about ten when my parents gave me an atlas for Christmas or my birthday, and I was smitten with the possibilities that the maps in it represented. I had a globe, too - I can't remember if I got the globe before the atlas or not - but I do remember that I loved to give it a sharp spin, jab my finger at it while the colors were still a blur, and imagine (wild, romantic, entirely underinformed imaginings) what it would be like to live in the country I was pointing to. Although, often enough my finger ended up resting in the middle of an ocean, which put a bit of a crimp in the game.

The map on my desk has several entertaining features. One is that the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics is a vast green blob swallowing eastern Europe and northen Asia, just as it was on that childhood globe. Another is that, instead of North and South America sitting in the center of the world, the map is arranged so that eastern Asia and Australia are closest to the middle of the image. So the two strongest visual positions, the left and center, are occupied by Europe/Africa and the Asia/Pacific region, respectively.

It was very funny to stumble across a reminder of the subtle ways my worldview has been influenced in a second-hand shop. Even after years of exposure to the concept of maps as artifacts of a particular culture, its still hard for me to get past the presumed objectivity of the image of the world presented in the Mercator projection in my grade school textbooks. After all, there the world is, neatly delineated with clear boundaries, overlaid with the tidy gridwork of meridians and parallels. All the information you need in pastel colors and bold print. It's a very definitive view of the world; everything and everyone in its place.

A map makes the world seem 'knowable' in a way that the pictures and stories that are merely travelers impressions do not. But it seems to me that those stories and pictures are more true than maps, and more honest about the way people experience the world. We know that experience is individual and subjective, whereas maps attempt to be universal and objective. But as the difference between the maps I grew up with and the map now on my desk demonstrates, subjectivity can never be entirely out of the picture where our worldviews are concerned.

Today's ruminations inspired by Stay of Execution and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Boundless nerdiness
Topic: Reading
I was at uni this afternoon (on what is theoretically my summer break, let's not forget), trying to get myself organized to make some headway on my thesis research, and being intermittently distracted by the various research students wandering around, easing back into their routine after their holidays. I can't tell you how many conversations I overhead wherein people said something along the lines of: 'I had a great holiday. I read so many books!' Because they do so little reading over the course of their research, you see.

As for me, I've been doing well with the research/fun reading balance. I finished The Postwar Moment, finally, after taking detailed notes on just about every chapter. I was impressed with the accessibility of the writing and the way the book was assembled. Edited collections often suffer from uneven writing and a lack of internal cohesion, but The Postwar Moment is well-written overall, and it's clear that most, if not all, the authors had access to each others' work at some point in the writing process, which makes The Postwar Moment feel like a collaborative project rather than just a collection of chapters. The one thing I would've liked to have seen was more work from Bosnian authors, but the book does what it set out to do - examine the ways in which expectations about masculine behaviour shape peacebuilding, peacekeeping, and postconflict reconstruction - and does it well.

And for the final nail in my nerd coffin, for fun I've been reading a massive fantasy novel that's part of what's shaping up to be a massive series. A Feast for Crows is the fourth book in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire series. I read the first three books several years ago, and have been waiting for ages for this installment. And having got it, I'm not thrilled. It feels like the story may have gotten away from Martin a bit this time around. The previous three books were tightly-plotted, interweaving multiple narrators, plotlines, and character arcs in telling the story of a country held together by intrigue and military force as it begins to pull apart. A Feast for Crows feels sprawling, and in fact, is only half the book it was intended to be. The next half will be published this year or early next year. Martin did his best to tie up loose ends, but it feels unfinished. I'm still sorry that I'm done with it, though. Martin has created a rich and detailed world populated with complex, evolving characters, and I find it makes for very compelling reading.

If you're wondering why I've suddenly started talking so much about what I've been reading, it's because I've got half a mind to have a run at the 50 Book Challenge this year. I'm curious to see whether I can balance academic reading with personal reading and still come out at an average of a bit under a book a week over the course of the year. I'm dubious, but off to a decent start all the same, having finished four books already.

Second book
Topic: Reading
Okay, so it really should've been The Postwar Moment that was my second book of the year (and it will be my third, because I'm going to spend all weekend working on it), but I swear procrastination wasn't the problem. Longitude: The True Story of a Lone Genius Who Solved the Greatest Scientific Problem of His Time by Dava Sobel, is a lightning-fast read. I finished it in a couple days only reading on the tram and before I went to sleep. Longitude a well-crafted popular history of the efforts to develop an efficient and effective means to allow ships to determine their longitudinal position, thus enabling safer, faster sea travel.

At the heart of the narrative is the professional life of James Harrison, a self-taught watchmaker who, at the end of the eighteenth century, against long odds, conquered the difficulties involved in developing a clock that would maintain its time onboard a ship. Knowing the difference between the time at their current location and the time at the prime meridian would allow sailors to determine their distance from the prime meridian. Because, as if traveling long distances in chancy weather in small wooden ships wasn't scary enough, prior to the nearly-simultaneous development of Harrison's clock and more accurate means of astronomical navigation, determining longitude was very nearly a matter of guesswork. Fatal miscalculation was scarcely uncommon. The ability to determine longitude accurately was the key to more secure travel and shipping, and less risky exploration. Solving the problem of determining latitude was an obsession for governments, institutions and individuals.

Sobel deftly interweaves biographical information with social, political, and scientific history, all delivered in an engaging, conversational tone. Longitude is an entertaining and informative read, and I’m now looking forward to reading her next book, Galileo’s Daughter: A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith, and Love. Is it just me, or does Sobel have a knack for crafting interesting subtitles?

It's that time of year
Topic: Navel gazing
Time for contemplation, setting goals, taking stock, and general navel gazing. And this year, I have an audience on which to inflict it! Lucky, lucky you.

Scheherazade also thinks that this is an appropriate time for activities of this nature, which is why she pointed out the "signature strengths" survey at authentichappiness.org. We all know I can't keep away from the internet quizzes. Or keep the results to myself. So here's the abbreviated version of what the survey had to say about my "signature strengths":

1. Honesty, authenticity, and genuineness: You are down to earth and without pretense; you are a "real" person. (And I'm so grateful to the Blue Fairy for making me that way!)
2. Curiosity and interest in the world: You like exploration and discovery. (If I didn't know that my mom occasionally drops by, comments like this could lead me down some very inappropriate paths)
3. Love of learning: You love learning new things, whether in a class or on your own. You have always loved school, reading, and museums - anywhere and everywhere there is an opportunity to learn. (Say it with me: neeeeerrrrrd!)
4. Appreciation of beauty and excellence: You notice and appreciate beauty, excellence, and/or skilled performance in all domains of life. (All together now: snoooooooooooooob!)
5. Capacity to love and be loved: You value close relations with others. (Heh. Heh heh. Yes, I'm twelve. Come on - I get this and #2 and I'm not supposed to snicker?)

I guess it's obvious I have some mixed feelings about 'official' personality tests (despite all the fun I have with ones like 'Which Disney villainess are you?'*). I don't like picking 'the answer that best describes [me]' out of a list of five options. Of course, it doesn't help that my favorite answer to just about any question is 'it depends'. I look at multiple choice questions about my values or my reactions and think 'under what set of circumstances?' Although I'm not trying to discourage anyone from taking tests, just putting too much stock in the results. They can be useful tools, but then, so can astrology.

As tools go, though, I much prefer open-ended exercises like the Proust Questionnaire (this version borrowed from Searchblog):

What is your most marked characteristic?
Empathy

What is the quality you most like in a man?
Compassion

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Determination

What do you most value in your friends?
Curiosity, intelligence, wit, passion

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Selfishness

What is your favorite occupation?
Sitting under a tree on a summer afternoon, reading

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
I don't really have one - don't think its possible. The closest I've come, though, has usually been on a long night spent talking and eating with close friends.

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Failure

In which country would you like to live?
Croatia or Cambodia

Who are your favorite writers?
Margaret Atwood, Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy, Sherman Alexie

Who are your favorite poets?
ee cummings, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson

Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Mr. Darcy

Who is your favorite heroine of fiction?
Thursday Next

Who are your favorite composers?
Bach and Beethoven

Who are your favorite painters?
Matisse, O'Keefe, Rembrandt, Van Gogh

What are your favorite names?
Michaela (as it's pronounced in German, Me'shellah) and Paul (Pavel, Paolo, etc.)

What is it that you most dislike?
Intentional rudeness

Which talent would you most like to have?
To play the piano well

How would you like to die?
With few regrets

What is your current state of mind?
Edgy

What is your motto?
'Always recognize that human individuals are ends, and do not use them as means to your end.'
-Immanuel Kant

(With all these 'what is...' questions, I rather feel as if I'm facing the Bridgekeeper.)

After all that, all that comes to mind for a conclusion is another classic phrase: 'Pbtha-pbtha-pbthat's all folks!'



*The Evil Queen from Snow White. Stupid test. I'm clearly Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty.

Walking in a wint . . . whaaaaaat now?
Topic: Whatever
While out walking late in this balmy January evening, I passed by a house with lovely garden in which the gaudy gleam of Christmas decorations was accompanied by the soft sputtering hiss of a lawn sprinkler.

Is this what they mean by cognitive dissonance?

The new year's first book
Topic: Reading
I'm feeling a bit guilty that it was The Internationals by Sarah May. It really should have been The Postwar Moment, which has to be returned on Monday and will doubtless be important for my thesis, but can't be read in bed since I have to take notes on it. So The Internationals it was.

I wanted to like The Internationals. Its set in Macedonia, it's about the people who do relief and development work, it was nominated for the 2004 Orange Prize. In places, I did like it. There were moments, in the scenes set in and around Skopje, where I could place myself in the book, look around, and know exactly where I was and what I would be seeing. But I liked it mostly because it sharpened my own memories. I was very aware that the characters were created. They didn't ring true to me, although their dilemmas and development were interesting. Misha Glenny succinctly identifies the other problems I had with the book in his review for the Guardian, so I won't rehash them here, but they were irritating enough to prevent me from fully immersing myself in the story.

I wouldn't rule out reading one of May's other books, though. The narrative is well-paced, her writing style is clean and unaffected, and she creates very evocative descriptions of places. It's just unfortunate that reading The Internationals made me wish that someone who knows Macedonia had written it.