The boys of baraka

From the npr website, a synopsys of the film:


he documentary follows three African-American students who get the
opportunity to attend an academically rigorous school in Kenya designed
to give them a path out of the violence and poverty of inner-city
Baltimore.




I think this simply an amazing concept and definately set for great things, i have been searching the web for a means of purchasing the film not just for my self but also to screen for ASA maybe in conjunction with other on campus organizations that may be interested. I haven't had much luck yet though i did find out that the 'Inwood theater' in dallas will be screening it starting 3/17/2006, a bit far but hey at least its a start. I hear its also up for an Academy award! I cant wait to see it!.

Here is a link to the films website:
http://lokifilms.com/site/index.html

<< Rewind: Daylight Saving What!?

Who would have thought that such a simple and routine procedure (as far as most Americans are concerned) could cause me so much strife and confusion!? I couldn’t believe it; people all over the continent were knowingly changing the time on every clock in sight, setting then back by one hour, A WHOLE HOUR! I was in utter and total disbelief.
Now you have to take into consideration that I come from a country that is dissected into two roughly equal parts by the equator. Consequently, year in year out, season after season, the sun rises at roughly 7am and sets at 7pm. Its like clock work! (Pun intended). When you have lived all your life in such an environment, the time on your watch or wall clock becomes one of those universal constant that no mere mortal has the right to tamper with lest he or she run the risk of upsetting the delicate balance of the universe. Like gravity and the polar coordinates, time and its consistency becomes one of those factors that hold the world together and no one would ever dream of tampering with it on the scale of what I was soon to observe courtesy of my first encounter with ‘daylight saving time’.
You may be wondering at this point whether we don’t even have times zones in my country, and if you are, the simple answer is ‘No’, for reasons I will soon make plain. Kenya is a country situated on the east coast of the continent of Africa bordered by Ethiopia, and Sudan to the North, Uganda and the Lake Victoria (Source of the Nile to the West), Tanzania to the South and the Indian Ocean and Somalia to the East. Despite having a section of the Great Rift Valley, the Serengeti and Mt. Kilimajaro (Africa’s highest Mountain) in it, it is still quite significantly smaller than Texas! Hence the entire country is in a single time zone. This only serves to further inculcate Kenyans with the notion of time being forever constant.
It is no surprise therefore that I was utterly flabbergasted when I heard that I was required to partake in this ritual of ‘daylight saving’ along with others who seamed a whole lot more comfortable with the exercise. Thousands of questions that seem absurd, even to me these few months later, were running through my mind and my confusion seemed to grow exponentially with every new one. ‘How dare they change time?’, ‘What if we forget to change it back?’ If we are gonna change it back anyway, why not just leave it as it is?’, ‘What difference does it really make if everyone knows that it’s 9 o’clock but we are going to call it 10 o’clock for a couple of months!?’. I was at a loss and panic was quickly setting in. The library closing one hour early was the straw the broke the camels back, I had enough of this. Indignant, I mused that a terrible injustice had been done to respecters of time the world over and as I sullenly sauntered back towards my dorm room, assured myself that it would not go unpunished.
I was mildly amused when I woke up the following morning to find that the universe indeed had not collapsed in on itself as I slept, there had not been any major crashes due traffic scheduling conflicts, no one I knew had missed a plane or a first class of the day. Every thing seemed to be run just as it should. Just like clock work!

>Play: One year on...

It’s been almost a year now since I arrived, alone and timid at the DFW airport, welcomed the cheery smiles and open arms of my uncles, aunts and cousins. I would love to say that I remember the day as if it was yesterday but truth be told I have but a very vague recollection of the event, besides I find the statement “I remember it as if it was yesterday” painfully cliché. Looking back, I find processing all that has taken place since an amazingly mind boggling task. I am in awe of the average human’s capacity for growth and adaptation.
I am well aware of the fact the college experience has and still is (I dare say to a lesser degree, but that’s another story) been commonly associated with great revelation and insight into oneself and into the world that one lives in. Colleges the world over are famed as the places at which the world greatest minds, found wings and took flight to lead the way into uncharted territories of though, pulling the rest of humanity along with the shear strength of their passion and dedication. Yet I would venture to say that mine has been a unique college experience, a unique awakening, a unique occasion for internal and external reflection and revelation. “Why?” you may ask do I presume to think my college experience this past year has been different enough to warrant special mention? Well here’s your answer, for the past one year have been able to live, work, play and observe the goings on at UT from the perspective of an international student, and not just any international student mind you, an African International student.
Taken superficially the above mentioned fact may seem little more than an interesting footnote too an otherwise typical story of a year spent at our dear University, but then, a basic characteristic of superficial analysis is that the details are often missed and as they say “the devil is in the details”. One would be utterly surprised at how much being an International student, nay, an African international student can affect ones collage experience, and how literally everything looks… more interesting when viewed through the eyes of one whose culture and background is so profoundly different. The effect of the “cultural lens” becomes clearer with each observation, each comment, each right analysis and each hopeless misinterpretation.
Some would be tempted to view this so called “culture shock” experience as a something negative, something to be quickly gotten over so as to smoothen the way for a less “shocking” semester or year. I on the other hand see it is a boon to my college experience and the very spice which makes college so vibrant and alive. If it is a malady, then it is one that I am not ready to recover from yet. At the very least it enables me to reanalyze things that have long since been thought too mundane to look into and bring out aspects that can only be seen when viewed from my angle, my view point, my cultural lens. Furthermore it allows me the leisure of skipping between the worlds of the typical UT student, the Engineering student, the International student and the African student at UT with relative ease, collecting tidbits from each to form the interesting collection of experiences that form my unique UT experience.
As overwhelming as it may seem, having to maneuver my way between these different realms, often feeling like the title of default ambassador/ representative has been thrust upon by all those to whom you claim affiliation, I wouldn’t have it any other way, if only for the joy of watching others light up as I give them a peak at the world through my end of the looking glass.