Friday, March 21, 2008

This Week in Development - The Impact of Economic Growth on Poverty and Inequality

Starring Dave Nicholson, an SID MA Candidate – in other words, a classmate of mine, who I think is absolutely brilliant (pronounced in British accent). The text below is one of the topics of our “discussion boards” based on a couple of recent studies on the above referenced subject:

Bob Sutcliffe. (2004).World inequality and globalization. Oxford Review of Economic Policy, Vol 20, No 1.

Dollar, David and Aart Kraay (2002) Growth is Good for the Poor, Journal of Economic Growth, Vol. 4.

As what seems to be the typical outcome in economics, the answer to the question of the growths impact on inequality seems to be....all together now....it depends. Bob Sutcliffe studied various methods of measuring inequality and found that different indicators could be used to generate different results. Without a reliable measure of inequality, the impact of growth is really tough to judge with any certainty, and therefore the impact of globalization is equally tough to measure. The only thing Sutcliffe can conclude is that inequality is very high right now, using the word “futile” to describe attempts to quantify it properly. If nothing else I admire his honesty.

In another study, Dollar and Kray seem to try really hard to obtain some correlation between current popular pro-poor policies and reduction in inequality (This observation is based on the fact that I understand little to nothing of what they actually did, but it sounds both impressive and time consuming). The conclusion they draw is that pure economic growth is the only thing that can be reliably attributed to increasing the income of the poorest 20% (don't tell Amartya Sen anyone!) They admit that this doesn't imply that nothing else has an impact, but merely that the contributions made by various policy and institutional factors may be too complicated to recognize in their “simple” study.

Trying to read their study led to the feeling that we were going round in circles; such a broad study was unlikely to identify singular important factors. I thought the Washington Consensus experience had taught us that the search for a blue print answer for all countries was “futile”, and that localized factors were always relevant in policy creation. Overall, we can conclude that we don't really know. Dejarvous anyone? Equiproportionately so.


The bottom line is – we don’t know, or at least, the attempts of such broad-based, cross-country studies to measure even a more complex correlation between growth, poverty and inequality leaves us with inconclusive results. Fried-pork, anyone?


For clarifications – Amartya Sen, a philosopher and economist who teaches, as said in Heller parlance, right down the road at Harvard. A Nobel Prize winner for economics in 1998, he’s famous, among many other works, for his book Development As Freedoma self-explaining title that sees the true means towards development in enhancing freedoms and capabilities of people, whereas growth in itself does not necessarily contribute towards the end goal.

Washington Consensus – a set of ten market-oriented, neo-liberal policies that came out from Washington based institutions (World Bank and IMF) in 1989-1990, that were aimed at reducing the role of government and placed the emphasis on the markets to promote development. It was broadly implemented in a number of developing countries and yielded pretty miserable results. One of the lessons among the many from this particular experience was that there are, after all, no blueprint solutions to development that can be transferred from one country to another.

Thursday, March 20, 2008

To Whom It May Concern: It’s a Thursday of no particular importance

And this blog is screaming for an update. But since there has been a lot on my mind lately, I am not quite sure where and how to begin. Except that maybe I should first spill out the unexciting news before I could move on to somewhat exciting ones?

So the non-so exciting part – it’s been veeery quiet on the job-hunt front, despite the fact that I keep applying away to anything that comes on my radar. Besides my recent rant and apprehensions on the said topic, the process leaves me with a feeling that I am compromising my own integrity. Not fun at all.

I had a mild freak out earlier this week due to what turned out (hopefully that’s the case) a minor gum infection that I thought was spreading at alarming rate to bring many serious consequences that would require surgical intervention. And since I am not covered by dental insurance, I was even more scared as to what to do about the situation. A trip to a physician calmed me down a bit, as I found out that surgery may not be necessary at this point and a good dose of antibiotics might do the trick. Also I cleared it with the said physician and my health insurance company that in case I do need a surgery, it would be billed as “medical” and not “dental,” which, in its turn was a pretty big relief. For once I should not bitch about the American health care system (yet).

On slightly more exciting news – I have been offered a ten week fellowship with a microfinance organization (that I have worked with for a couple of years in the past) to conduct a client assessment research in Georgia (country) and Armenia. Besides having a darn good reason to go back home this summer (and a trip is long overdue), I would gain a much needed research experience, get to compare data on two neighboring countries that share many political, social, cultural and geographic similarities and get to hang out in Tbilisi. Also, one of my classmates from Ukraine who I really like will be accompanying me in my Georgia trip. The downside of it is that the fellowship does not pay shit. Even more so, despite the fact that the said organization covers the living expenses in both countries, the cost of the trip is completely my responsibility. With continuously depreciating dollar airline tickets have gotten very, extremely expensive, so my ability to actually do the research will be contingent upon my being able to find funding for the said trip, along with several other factors that I won’t go into now.

Needless to say, I am excited about this fellowship. However, there are a couple of concerns that rise off the top of my head in case I do end up accepting the fellowship. For one, there’s the whole situation of depreciating dollar and appreciating Georgian/Armenian currencies that makes my already limited resources stretch rather thinly. Then, in case I do end up going to Georgia, I do not have the vaguest idea as to how in the world I will be able to communicate. I do not speak Georgian. Neither does my Ukrainian friend. We both speak Russian. You’d think that Georgians would too, given our shared seventy years of Soviet history, but due to current and not-so current political relations between the said two countries, Georgians are not very friendly towards the Russian speaking folk. And they refuse pointblank to speak Russian (or so I hear). There are quite a few people who speak English in Tbilisi but I doubt that a middle-age rural microfinance client would be fluent enough for us to be able to communicate. Although the flip side of it is that this might create some pretty hilariously nonsensical situations worth getting into. Or maybe not. All I know is that at this point I should hold off the excitement, since there is a whole lot more stuff that needs to be worked and figured out before I can wholeheartedly accept this offer. For now all I can say is that I really really want to go home…

Thursday, March 13, 2008

On a brighter note: things that have been my source of amusement lately

  • Watching grown men “unleash" their inner teenage rock star as they play Rock Band (an equivalent of Guitar Hero) for hours at a time. Makes me remember the days of my “youth” when [insert the rock band of your choice – in my case – Nirvana, post mortem] held the status of a deity, wearing torn blue jeans and multiple piercings was a statement equal to blasphemy (we’re talking Yerevan in early 90s) and obtaining the said pair of blue jeans that cost twice as much as my mother’s monthly salary was the biggest source of obsession.
  • Mother Sugar watching democratic debates or the results of the primaries and changing her mind by the minute as to who to vote for. The current verdict – Hilary is a bitch, Obama is the man, look out for McCain and the world is coming to an end, fast, so it doesn’t matter anyway. As surprising as this may sound, I have been relatively cool about this whole election circus (I shouldn’t be, even if I don’t get to vote), especially since my beloved cute Southern boy (Edwards) dropped out of the race early on.
  • Statements made by certain crazy professor(s) saying that “some of us haven’t read a book in twenty years,“ and that “if you are reading, you’re not thinking; if you’re thinking, you’re not reading.” Thus, if you want to keep thinking, put down the damn book.
  • Remarks made by my classmate on my pessimistic attitude that go like:

Him: “Why are you so pissed all the time?”

Me: “I’m practicing on being a bitch.”

Him: “Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t need to practice.” Ouch.

  • My African fan club at Heller and a certain skinny dude who keeps proposing to me to be his African queen, go with him to Nigeria and be his number one wife… When I tell him that he looks too much like my brother (both are skinny, tall, with big round heads and even bigger smiles), the guy standing next to him says:

“My condolences, brother. I am so happy that she doesn’t think that I look like her bother.”

Good to know that in case I don’t find anything useful to do with myself, I always have an option of being an African queen. I guess I should find out who the rest of the wives are going to be?

Sunday, March 09, 2008

An ongoing rant on my utter ineptitude... or I went to Brandies and all I learned was that I don't know a thing when it comes to development

Despite a very strenuous week, the last few days of the week I was actually in a pretty good mood. Maybe it was because the weather finally warmed up a bit, maybe because I was done with my third module of the academic program, having only one more module to go. I finally figured out how to resolve the tangled issue of previously mentioned universality and cultural relativity when it came to human rights, wrote a pretty darn good legal argument about international law and humanitarian intervention, did a kick ass job on a presentation… Walking out of Heller early Friday morning, after having handed in yet another assignment I felt relieved, happy. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the air smelled of spring… “Maybe I should give myself a reward, buy a sweater, maybe a new pair of shoes,” I thought to myself, as I walked home, looking forward to indulging myself in doing absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, possibly taking a trip to Boston on Sunday, to buy the said reward…

However, despite the good mood that finished off my week, I’ve been having a pretty lousy weekend, and that’s not simply due to uncooperative weather that made me cancel my tentative trip to the city and has kept me locked up indoors for the last forty eight hours. When one doesn’t have a whole lot on her daily agenda, one inevitably keeps going back to the reoccurring thoughts that might have been circling around one’s mind. And since close friends and family have gotten sick of hearing about my woes of late, I thought I would turn to my last resort and vent on this blog.

So, yeah, things that bother me right now – the same things that have been bothering two months ago, three months ago, maybe even longer… I am clueless as to what I want to do with myself after this May, when I am done with this semester. I am not sure what I actually can do come this May. All I know is that I am supposed to be at a practicum of some sorts. That can be an internship or an actual job, as long as it’s related to the field of interest, does not involve doing my own research and can serve as basis for writing my Master’s paper.

Here’s the thing though – on one hand I don’t have a quite clear picture of what I want to do. Or to correct myself – things that I want to do I am not quite qualified for (blame my weak background in econ and statistics). On the other hand, pretty much all more or less decent internships are unpaid. And the truth is, I cannot afford an unpaid internship. So I am looking for jobs. Entry level jobs in the field of sustainable international development that do not involve the aforementioned advanced stats and econ skills. And boy, is the process frustrating. I don’t think I ever mastered the whole art of self-promotion and selling myself thing. What am I supposed to say here? I’m smart, I’m smart, I go to a tough preppy school and get good grades, I’m smart, I speak three languages, I really care for the poor, I’m smart, I’M SMART, god damnit, now WILL YOU HIRE ME ALREADY?

So I am coming to realize that as respectable as Brandeis degree is, it is a pretty generic one to make you a specialist of anything in particular. International development is a pretty broad field that encompasses a wide range of disciplines from environmental conservation and sustainability to poverty alleviation, economic development, human rights, gender issues and everything else in between. But really, you’re not graduating as an ecologist or an environmental engineer to be able to really tackle the issues of the environment. Nor are you coming out being a human rights specialist – for that there are programs in law schools. If you want to work on economic development, then you’re gotta be – come on, take a wild guess – an economist maybe? Did I really need another reason to tell me that I didn’t make the smartest choice when I came to Brandeis?

Also, even the lowly bottom of the barrel entry level position of a program associate in any lousy DC NGO requires (and I’m not kidding here) FIVE years of relevant experience, on top of an advanced degree. No more or no less. Now, do you think that if I had five year’s of relevant experience with an advanced degree I would be applying for a job of a program associate? Give me a break already. I don’t think I have ever, EVER in my life felt more unqualified and … I guess, worthless and limited in what I can do. I do keep applying to anything from human rights advocacy to gender issues to small project management to micro-finance … everything that comes on my radar that I can be even remotely considered suitable. Perhaps part of the reason I feel so limited is because I do limit my search to one and only location of Washington DC (or Richmond, but no big market there), since I decided that I really do not feel like working overseas or any other spot in the States in the near future. Even if devil tells me to try to find a job back at home, the only thing that I’ve been able to find is a ten week microfinance fellowship (not long enough) and internships (paid) with USAID (require US citizenship that I do not have).

So back to the job hunt. A part of me has been entertaining the thought that in case I don’t manage to find something that is at least remotely suitable for my field and doesn’t require me taking out another huge student loan to cover my living expenses, my only other choice is to defer my second year – something that neither the boy nor my mother will hear about. And that, frankly, pisses me off. It’s one thing to be able to do what you want to do, it’s another thing to be able to afford what you want to do. Nor could I really afford this fancy education in the first place, especially since the more I think about, the more worthless it appears to be. And the whole chain of thoughts repeats again. Also, makes my kick-ass legal arguments and carefully composed papers seem completely pointless. Or maybe I’m worthless. And I have this lousy feeling as a proof for the latter. So much for buying a new sweater as a reward.

Sunday, March 02, 2008

To Whom It May Consern: It's Twenty Degrees and Sunny. Sunday Afternoon

And I'm suffering through a paper.

Although most of the times my writing assignments are nothing more but a means of perfecting the art of pulling a paper out of thin air, there are those few occasions that seem to open a can of warms that I really don't feel like dealing with. Like universality of human rights and cultural relativism... Especially cultural relativism. Perhaps a good indicator I should not pursue a career in anthropology.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Don't you think it should work like this?

You have a desire, you dwell upon it, move with it, and presto, it manifests?

Or you have a huge question, you turn it over to me, forget about it, and ta-da, you just know. Me too. Which, actually, is exactly how it does work, Nika…

Cool, huh?

The Universe

You know who I really, wholeheartedly envy, Universe? People who know exactly what it is that they want and then go for it, without looking left and right, following it through and not changing their mind in the process. I remember a long while ago, one of my former bosses (now a friend) told me how you’ve got to figure out that it is that you want, figure out where you want to see yourself in the future, make a detailed plan for five, ten, fifteen years, then follow your plan one step at a time until you finally get there. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Well, it really isn’t for someone as ambivalent and inconsistent as I am. Cause shit, if I had a nickel every time I changed my mind in the last ten and even five years, I would probably have a secured retirement plan under my mattress now and wouldn’t have to worry about anything else.

I was too young to have any kind of ambitions fifteen years ago beyond studying advanced math and physics in a cold room in candlelight, playing the piano five hours a day and nurturing whatever crush it was that I had for whoever it was that sat next to me in the class. Ten years, on the other hand, was long enough for me to come to the States for the first time, go back home, get accepted to a school I cared little about, take up swimming and deciding to quit school to become a swimming coach, quit swimming instead, then decide to quit school again so that I could stay at home and write, but getting a full time job instead while still in school, then decide to transfer from a language school to Florida Institute of Technology to study genetic engineering, getting the application all ready to go, then changing my mind, thanks to my biologist mom (who kindly brought up the issue of ethics – damned, it’s always the ethics that seems to get in my way). Then decide to get married instead. Get married actually. Think that it will be a good idea to become a yoga instructor. Never follow through with it. End my marriage. Go back home to Armenia. Decide to join the army of do-gooders. Apply to do-gooder graduate school. Get accepted. Move back to the States. Actually go to graduate school thinking that I know exactly what it is that I want to learn from there… Now a semester and half through graduate school it turns out that I know nothing about what it is that I want to learn from there… Ambivalence is truly a bitch, aint it? Does anyone happen to know if there is a twelve-step program for those wanting to recover from being inconsistent? Cause I will sign up right away, unless I change my mind again, of course.

You know who else I happen to envy more than anything else? Those who seem to be in what I call a perpetual Peace Corps age and mindset and will get a bag packed within a day’s notice to move wherever it is they think their next calling is. I thought that was exactly what I wanted – running around from one corner of the world to another, without having to settle down anywhere in particular. It would fit quite nicely with my inconsistent personality, wouldn’t it? Well, turns out that somewhere during my stay in Richmond while waiting to go to school I lost that mindset. Turns out, that one thing that has been consistent in the last couple of years is a sudden realization that what I need more than anything else is what I once called normality (see the previous post)– but is more along the lines of stability and security of having a place that you can call home, settling down, living a most ordinary and routine life one day after another… and actually being happy living such unambitious life.

So here’s a dilemma – on one hand I am more inconsistent than anyone I happen to know. On the other hand, all I seem to want is… consistency and stability in its most lackadaisical form. I could speculate at lengths that it is only logical to want something that you most lack… but given the circumstances, I am not sure if I can trust even that. So what was it that you were saying to me, Universe?

Around this time last year I wrote...

I keep telling myself that all I want is some sense of normality and a little peace of mind. But I stop right there without further questioning of what this normality entails. What exactly does it mean, normality, to me- this one, seemingly simple, and yet the most relative, subjective and changeable concept of all? Where do I draw the line, my own personal line, between what’s normal and acceptable and what’s not? How do I make my own definitions of uniform ordinariness? And why, why is it that this sense of normality is so important to me now?
Once I used to find comfort in a newfound realization of how similar we, as humans, are. And how much there is that we share in common. Made it easier for me to accept and understand myself and relate to someone outside of my skin; gave me compassion and tolerance towards others for merely being human... And being connected to every other human and not alone in our behavior patters, thoughts and emotions. It made me happy – just thinking about it. Somewhat relieved of unnecessary pressure of trying to be different, special in some way. Even remotely distinguished by something other than being just another human being...
But then, i can't help but question whether this is a cryptic way of justifying my complete lack of ambition or any kind of aspiration for not wanting something that would make me more distinguished than the person next to me. And whether this lack of desire is as humble as it may appear at first glance or simply a sign of laziness, as if by accepting my averagness I’m giving up the effort to be something more, something better – at least a better version of myself, if not distinguished.... but then, again, i ask whether there is even half as much comfort in this sense of distinguishness as there is in the ordinariness of someone who's humble in his own humanity…
What I want is simple. Ordinary. Uncomplicated. Real. Tangible. And not abstract. I need a sense of security, stability, a sense of being protected… some kind of confidence of being able to deal with whatever future may hold for me. Wanting a place that you can call your own, a place that will give you the protection you need and partially the sense of security. A need for a home… your own home- these are all simple and ordinary things, yet very concrete things to want and need… it’s natural for someone to want to have it, is it not? It’s normal, human… basic - is it not?
If it is so, then why is it that a certain part of me feels guilty, somewhat guilty, that by wanting and choosing those things I’m forgetting and leaving out something that might be just as important? Perhaps not as common and ordinary, but as equally important?

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

This Week In Development – Did Someone Mention Growth?

The Caucasian Tiger or what’s behind the pretty picture of Armenia’s economic growth.

During the last decade, the economy of Armenia has been showing steady growth reaching over 13 percent in the last year (see the graph below). The impressive growth of the country has been compared to that of East Asian Tigers in earlier decades, giving Armenia the name of Caucasian Tiger by the Word Bank experts.

For those interested in reading more about country’s “stellar” performance, current situation and further policy advice, check out The Caucasian Tiger: Sustaining Economic Growth in Armenia recently published by the World Bank (also available at Google Books).

Using some of the information from the book, as well as PRSP of the country, below find a very brief brief on the history of growth.

Armenia gained independence after the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991. The rapid transition from one economic system to another resulted in economic crisis due to the country’s lack of institutional infrastructure to function in market economy. At the same time, the country was still dealing with the still tangible aftermath of a devastating earthquake of 1988, as well as experiencing a large influx of refugees into the country from Azerbaijan due to the ongoing Nagorno-Kharabakh conflict. The country was in blockade, had shut down its main source of energy – the nuclear power plant and was undergoing a period that in economic terms was characterized by hyper-inflation, drastic increase in unemployment, liquidation of previously owned state enterprises, migration and emergence of widespread poverty among the population (55% according to 1992 estimates).

The country’s economy started showing growth in1994, when series of reforms re-established macroeconomic stability in the country and created favorable environment for economic growth. The average GDP growth from 1994 to 2002 was 6.68 percent, with a gradual increase to 13.4 percent in 2006 (see the graph).


Source: World Development Indicators 1990-2006


World Bank experts attribute this growth to successful implementation of “first generation” policy reforms that lowered the inflation and created macroeconomic stability which led to expansions of markets and growth of the private sector. Poverty dropped from 55 percent to 26.5 percent (2004 estimates). Large amounts of capital inflows into the country in form of official development assistance, contributions and private transfers by the Armenian Diaspora and remittances also played their part in the growth of the nation’s economy.

This doesn’t mean that the country isn’t still poor. The aforementioned book gives a detailed outline of what’s still wrong together with policy advice, similar to those outlined in country’s PRSP on how to deal with the existing constraints to the sustainability of growth, such as unemployment, unhealthy taxation system, still unstable business environment, poverty in rural regions, so on and so forth.

Now, those who are REALLY concerned about the state of the Armenian economy and the quality of recent growth, check out what independent experts have to say. Concerns raised in these posts appear to be quite legitimate - economic growth weakens, instead of increasing the competitiveness of the country's markets. It is unevenly allocated among the population - inequality between rural areas and the capital, where most of the growth is concentrated, is quite tangible. Most profitable imports are monopolized, after having been appropriated by state officials under names of “foreign entities” and there is virtually no foreign direct investment coming into the economy, contrary to belief.

It can be stated that everybody is content and no one realizes that were this dynamics to continue, in ten years this ‘miracle’ can turn into a real crisis, a true hell…

Make your conclusions at your own risk.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Speaking of consumerism - The Story of Stuff

Here's the first chapter of the story of unlimited consumption and what it can and is actually leading us towards to. The whole thing is available here.

Although none of the facts that Ms. Lennox brings here is news to me, it becomes pretty mind-boggling when all of it presented all at once. I glimpsed over the comments that were posted to this video on You Tube, and got even more astounded... Propaganda you might say this little number is, but I don't think you really need to have a college degree to grasp a simple concept that you cannot indefinitely run a linear system on a finite planet. It's as simple as that. Enjoy and feel free to send me hate mail.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

From Trash TV to Trash Consumerism

In the light of the favorite collective pink and red holiday of ours, New York Time’s Critical Shopper Visits Victoria’s Secret.

Good ol' pimpin' gone corporate. Hilarity ensues.

Subtleties of eroticism can turn the banal into the fantastic, but Victoria’s Secret has not made its money by being subtle. Its apparent formula for mass-marketing fantasies is to turn the erotic into the banal.

Like a porn star with too many memoirs, Victoria’s secrets are pretty much overexposed at this point. “Ahh, whatever,” Victoria says. “Let me let you in on a little something, girls. You want sex? Hit the guy real hard with blunt sex objects.”

Mamas, don’t let your babies go to the Royal Academy of Pink. After all, one of the primary goals of parenthood, to paraphrase Chris Rock, is to keep your daughter “off the pole.”

There is a certain charm in directness, if it’s done right. I am concerned, however, that Victoria seems to be acting out feelings of low self-esteem through indiscriminate promiscuity.

Well, these are times when everything is turned into commodities. Sex sells. It sells quite well. But I guess there’s got to be a line somewhere before it does become a blatant promotion of … promiscuity. Nothing wrong with that, I’ll have to admit, but please don’t let the big guys make uniform choices for you and collect the proceeds in advance.

Source: Cintra Wilson (2008, Feb. 14). Chug-a-Lugging Aphrodisiacs. New York Times.

Friday, February 15, 2008

The love of flying

So lately I have been traveling a lot. And since my most reliable forms of transportation are my own feet and airplanes and because Richmond is nowhere close to being within my walking distance, lately I have been flying more often that I ever thought I would. Long live JetBlue, home of the most legroom in the couch. Besides befriending its whole entire crew, I am starting to feel more and more at home in the most unhomy places in the world, more precisely – Logan International Airport. The same would not be true if I was flying out of, say, JFK - a real nightmare with its perpetual mess of delayed flights and long waits on the runway, and having gone through New York on a couple of occasions, I have sworn to try, at any cost, to avoid this route, unless I am actually going there.

Getting to Logan is an adventure in itself that involves coordinating the flight schedule to that of the commuter rail, getting my usually oversized luggage to the train station, getting on the train, getting off at the North Station and catching a cab from the North Station to the airport. Had I been more adventurous and more concerned about saving money, I would have figured out even a more elaborate plan of changing several subway lines that would eventually lead me to my coveted destination. But since we’re talking ten-fifteen bucks, I find it not worth the trouble and end up chatting it up with drivers, who often happen to be from the motherland (read Russia).

So Logan International, terminal C. How would I ever guess that you’d become one of my most beloved places in the whole entire world? That setting foot past your security check-point would be as exciting and exhilarating as Christmas morning for a kid? Even TSA officers can’t help but notice how happy I look and stop me to ask whether I have just won a lottery and am headed for a grand vacation… Who would have thought that I would come to love your overcrowded food joints, overpriced Wonfgang Putz pizzas and mediocre Starbucks coffee that I get before the departure (the only place that I get Starbucks anymore these days)? Would I have ever guessed that you, of all places in the world, would be where I do the bulk of my school work, as I bide the pre-departure hours trying not to pass out from excitement?

I do love flying. There is something (please don’t laugh) overly liberating in the moment the plane accelerates before the take-off. There is something in that feeling of lightness that gives me a high when the plane is up in the air. Having weathered several trans-Atlantic flights, the short trip to Richmond feels like a breeze, as I leaf through my readings, draft outlines for papers or get my dose of trash-TV, while doing "splits and tap dance and even yoga." And when the pilot announces its initial decen, I get that pang in my stomach, as if the entire city of Richmond is there to greet me with balloons and fireworks and lots and lots of candy…

I have to admit that going back is always a little sad and not nearly as fun, but then going back always involves long lists of things that need to be done, school stuff taken care of, papers handed out, which make my days of Waltham imprisonment pass that much faster before my next trip is up. I leave the airport knowing not only that soon enough I'll be flying again, but that in the matter of a couple of more months I will be leaving Boston behind, if not for good, at least for a long long while.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Early Spring Break

After having written a record number of papers in the last few weeks, staying up too late and getting too little sleep, while simultaneously trying to juggle a world of miscellaneous tasks, I find myself all burnt up and in serious need for a break… which couldn’t have come at a more convenient time. All packed up and heading down South for an eternity of ten days that’s way too short to try and get enough of Richmond but long enough for me to wish that I had never moved up North…

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Recently one of my fellow students asked me how things were going.

“Well, I’m seriously considering quitting school to go have babies…” I said, jokingly, not knowing what else to say.

“Really? You? Of all people?” she said with a wow on her face. “You’re always so passionate and dedicated and all over the stuff. Where’s the hope for me then?” The girl actually was NOT joking.

Needless to say, her comment made me think. But before I get to explaining where this quitting and babies business is coming from, I have to tell you how lunatic of an idea it is to look at me as a source of hope. Or motivation. Or anything else that has even a slightest breeze of inspiration. Ask the fat bastard, if you can find him - he’ll tell you.

Now whether or not I believe in development through the established institutional framework is something that I myself am trying to figure out. And trust me, there is nothing all that exciting or inspirational in the process. That there is actually a chance that I might, even for a moment, be perceived as anything close to passionate or dedicated when it comes to school is pretty hysterical. A more accurate picture would be: apathetic, pessimistic, I-don’t- really- care-cause- it’s- not- going –to- matter -either -way and can’t -we -go -home -now? Now add to that some chloric acid, soften it with a pinch of hopeless idealism, then spice it up with bitter skepticism and you got me. Now measure how far it is from the aforementioned passionate and dedicated. And then decide, at your own risk, whether or not you want to look at me as a source of … now what was it that you were saying?

Monday, February 11, 2008

The End Of The World - Happy Monday, Everyone

I'm pretty sure you guys have already seen this, but having watched this little number over six hundred times, I felt that I should give it a respectable spot on this blog. Assuming that we don't blow ourselves up, you Californians keep working on breaking off from the States, and I might change my mind to relocate to Mars to come and hang with you. Provided that you will have me, of course...


Saturday, February 09, 2008

Currently reading...

As sad as this sounds, I have to admit that given the nature of my country of origin (i.e. darn underdeveloped) and my current field of interest (i.e. sustainable development), I never did, until recently, look into Armenia’s Poverty Reduction Strategy Paper (PRSP). For clarification, PRSP is a document prepared by governments of developing countries that outline macroeconomic and social policies and programs aimed at reducing poverty. After realizing the importance of government ownership for the development process, donor organizations (IMF and the World Bank) started requiring such documents as a condition for countries to be considered for financial assistance. They are, in a way, mega-proposals, although instead of grants countries receive loans. Follow the link to read more on these documents, as well as skim through the documents and respective country reports on your developing country of choice – they’re available to public both on the World Bank and IMF websites.

I won't get into the whole issue of whether or not PRSPs are a good idea and aren't merely a means of promoting certain controversial neoliberal policies (which I might write about next time I can't go to sleep at night) that the mentioned organizations seem to favor. Not to deviate from the subject of this particular post and getting back to PRSP of Armenia –reading this particular document drove me to the brink of tears, so beautiful and clear it was despite its technical nature, care and compassion dripping from each page. For a moment I thought that I had mistakenly clicked on the wrong thing and am reading a proposal to build some wonder land... There is a lot of things that I don't know about the government of my own country, but I can't believe that I missed the fact that it actually started caring about the poor and is concerned with human development, corruption or environment. From what I keep hearing, the poor are still poor, the rich are getting richer and unless I am missing something, the only strategy that is being pursued is that of fattening wallets on every possible level of bureaucracy. The fact that there's a document out there stating the contrary makes things kind of embarrassing. But then, there are quite a few things about the Armenian government that are embarrassing, so what's one more?

Friday, February 08, 2008

Boxed In

This week in development - this is what happens when you fail to acknowledge the importance of fried pork

In the light of a recent literature review that I had to do on the impact of aid on economic growth for an upcoming pointless assignment, I had a chance to review a few of the leading quantitative studies on the said topic. Without naming any of the names or going into great technical detail, here’s what we find:

STUDY A

Shows that foreign aid positively affects economic growth in developing countries. The study is based on modern economic growth theories, takes into consideration domestic savings, human capital and export and looks at 77 countries over three ten year periods.

STUDY B

Looks at 56 countries over six four year periods and finds that aid has a positive effect on economic growth only in countries that have good policies, and little effect in countries that don’t.

STUDY C

Using the original data from study B, adding a few countries and extending the study period for a few more years, this study finds that foreign aid has no effect on economic growth, regardless the policy environment.

STUDY D

Looks at 107 countries over several ten to forty year periods, with a whole lot more variables, including geography, policy environment, size and shape and comes to a conclusion that aid has no effect on economic growth whichever way you want to look at it. However – the study admits that the results of the research are “fragile” that even minor changes in one of the variables will yield different outcomes.

Looking at these conflicting and inconclusive studies done by respectable economists in respectable institutions, all I can say is – SERioUsLY, GUYS, don’t you have anything BETTER to do than come up with stuff I can’t even quote in papers knowing that at least one of you will contradict whichever other one I want to quote? And REaLLy, don’t you know that you’re dealing with COUNTRIES and MONEY and DONORS and MONEY, which translates to GOVERNMENTS, CONSULTANTS, diamond encrusted HUMMERS and FIVE StAR HOTELS, and lots and lots of fried meat… Did any one of you ever stop to consider either one of these variables in your studies? You don’t think they have any correlation with growth? I bet if you ran one of your fancy tests, however FRAGILE your data was, you’d find a correlation. Now if you will only hire me as a research assistant in one of these studies, I will be more than happy to forget how much pain and anguish your unnecessarily convoluted studies caused me, especially in the last twenty four hours.

Friday, February 01, 2008

In need of an agenda, as sad as it sounds...

Oh, I know, I know - posting a cute, albeit accurate, story stolen from elsewhere after not having written for over a month despite past promises is pretty lame. I can’t really blame the lack of time, since I had an entire month of winter break at my disposal, which, I have to tell you, felt like a honeymoon of sorts. Not that I didn’t have anything to rant about – it’s just for whatever reason I would rather spend my time doing absolute nothing (at best) or watching trash TV (at worst – America’s Next Top Skank, anyone?), than try to gather up thoughts to write up something with any meaning or content of any sorts. Blame it on laziness, or lack of motivation, or on too good of a time that I was having while in Richmond. Speaking of honeymoons – when the boy asked, kind of arbitrarily what I would consider as a good spot for honeymoon, the immediate response that came out at the top of my head was… Beirut, which was greeted by rolling of eyes and a comment that I must be out of my mind (like I didn’t know already).

I do have to admit though that part of the reason that I can’t seem to write much these days is that I am not quite sure what I want to do and where I want to go with this blog. I lack any sort of agenda, both in regards to writing and life in general, which, at times, is quite unsettling, if you know what I mean. The truth is, I do need to come up with some kind of agenda, if not for being able to blog more frequently, at least so that I can get through the remaining few months of school without shooting myself or anyone else in the process. I need some kind of discipline – something that I have never been good with. I need motivation that extends beyond being able to turn in school assignments on time and getting good grades in return, which is not something that keeps me excited on daily basis anyway. And lastly, I do need an agenda so that I can look beyond depression, apathy, and consequent cynicism and make something positive out of a decision that didn’t turn out to be the best one that I’ve made in my life. After all, I am paying way too much money to make myself this miserable. Not that school is all that bad and I am not learning anything in the process. It’s just the fact that after all, it doesn’t really matter all that much – you’re in, you’re out, with the much sought after, although questionably useful piece of paper, that would or would not contribute to the betterment of your own life, let alone the world itself (oh I’m so naive, of course the master’s degree from Brandeis is going to fix everything that’s wrong with the world).

Not to continue this downward spiral of overly depressing chain of thoughts – I do need to make myself write more often, if for nothing else, at least for the sake of my own sanity – and writing, on quite a few occasions, has helped me tremendously to get out of whatever mental loop I was caught at that particular moment… We’ll have to see how it goes.

This week in development - There you go!

This, pretty much, is development in a nutshell. The narrative (below), written and illustrated by Oren Ginzberg, is better told with corresponding illustrations. The (sad) humor of it can be appreciated regardless whether or not you're one of the "development practitioners." Enjoy.

Our original goal was the same as the usual - to bring them sustainable development. However, in this specific case, we encountered an unexpected challenge (as if it isn't so in any other case). It turned out that these people, in their own kind of way, were already sustainable. So all we could really bring them was Development (without really being able to define what development meant in the first place).

We started Participatory Community Development, but they didn't fully
(really want to) participate.

We tried income-generating activities... but some people seem satisfied with less than a dollar a day.


We even tried to empower them... but their reaction was more powerful than expected.


So we opted for Multi-Stakeholder Cross-Disciplinary Integrated approach.


We developed innovative Private Sector Partnerships.


We developed vocational skills adapted to a shifting economy.


We developed tough conservation measures to protect the environment from further harm.


And we developed ambitious Social Safety Nets - for those unable to take care of themselves.


This has been a challenging process with many lessons learned. We certainly look forward to applying them elsewhere in the very near future.

But for now, let us just say,
Welcome to the Global Village.

Now you know what is being vigorously taught to me at Brandeis.


The text and illustrations by Oren Ginzberg (2006), published by and courtesy of Survival International.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

It's good to be back...

I'm almost done with school, with the exception of a paper that needs to be finished and submitted by this afternoon (anyone wants to help me write about prostitution and masculinities in post-Soviet Armenia?). I also managed to successfully relocate myself to Richmond last night - the airline and travel gods were nice, and despite snow in the forecast, the flights weren't canceled and I made it to Richmond safely and all in one piece together with all three pieces of my luggage.

The guy sitting next to me on the plane, a Richmonder, asked me whether I lived in Boston or Richmond. "Ummm, both, I guess... " I said, still reluctant to consider my stay in New England as "living." Learning that I only recently moved to Boston for school, he asked me how I liked the area. I told him that for whatever reason it just wouldn't grow on me. He seemed to agree. "It's rough town, let me tell you... It doesn't grow easily on anybody."

Oh, I know, I know. It's hard to get used to a town where you'd be lucky to get a smile from a passer by, let alone have decent conversation. When asking for directions, say to the State Capital, you will most likely get "follow the fucking golden globe, god damnit." And of course, twenty degree cold and snowstorms don't make it any easier.

It feels so good to be in Richmond...

It feels good to be done with school, away from the cold (relatively speaking), back to the familiar settings... It's nice to know that there is a place that i can go back to, like one would go back home. It's good to have an entire month completely free, without any concerns and worries. And, of course, the holidays.

A couple of weeks ago, after a mini-meltdown caused by the holiday frenzy, I realized, for the first time, that I still have some deep and unresolved emotional issues that I need to get to the bottom of. I also need to recommit myself to this blog, which, despite my long-drawn absence, is perhaps one of my main sources for self-expression that is fun and therapeutic at the same time. I also seem to have forgotten how to simply be, and be happy, which is what I plan to spend most of my days in Richmond doing.

The invitation to come and see me here is still open to everyone...

For now, let me just say that it's good to be back here and for the sake of sheer entertainment and in the spirit of this holiday season, check this out.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Monday, November 26, 2007

I’ve been quiet for a while. School has been consuming half of my soul, living in Waltham gnawing at the other half, thus contributing to the overall lack of time and motivation to bring about this long-drawn silence of late. However, despite the absence of regular posts, site meter reads show that there are still people periodically visiting this site. Thank you. Really. So for the sake of saving what’s left of my readership, as well as providing some kind of update on what’s happening in my domain (no, I haven’t fallen off the face of the earth yet), here’s a brief overview on my overall well-being in general, and my current state in particular, in case you happen to care.

School-wise - school’s fine. Really. No more and no less, that is. I’m not particularly loving it, not quite loathing it entirely (with the exception of one particular class). I am still the disgruntled student that I was at the beginning of the semester, as my past posts will attest to, but for the sake of not repeating myself, I will spare you from the long list of frustrations and apprehensions, and will simply say that, yeah, it’s bearable, it’s going to be over in May and that I will make it through with what dignity and pride I still have left. Grade-wise, on the other hand, I’m kicking ass – turns out I can write pretty good papers, although I’ve never looked at grades as means of measuring progress or accomplishments. Onwards…

Career-wise – it looks like I have taken a completely radical turn as to what I want to do after I graduate. So I’m slowly restructuring – that is, coming to a realization that neither field work, nor micro-finance is what I would like to do with myself at this point. I am more and more drawn to research and policy analysis, and am considering the possibility of getting a PhD in some still intangible future, in some still undefined field. For now, the future, still as vague and uncertain as it can be, concerns me a bit. And yet, I do seem to be confident enough to know that really, I will be fine, no matter what happens or what I happen to chose.

Location-wise –After having lived in the South, it’s a little difficult to get used to New England. Blame the weather. Blame the closed, shielded, unfriendly waspiness. I do find it hard to see myself living here either now, or any point of my life. Despite the historic and cultural magnificence of Boston itself and quaint and artsy cuteness of the nearby small towns, I still can’t quite get it, it still won’t grown on me. Waltham, on the other hand, having neither the quaintness nor the cuteness of nearby towns, has little to nothing to grown on anyway. It depresses the hell out of me. Speak about development – the town needs some serious “lifestyle” development – being the bland dump that it is. Onwards, before I get myself in trouble here…

Fun-wise – my social life leaves much room for improvements. There are days when all I seem to want is to be left alone to read articles and edit papers, or lay on the couch watching CSI re-runs. There are also days when I catch myself feeling nostalgic at the idea of being able to walk into a neighborhood bar, to hang out with local drunks and catch up on gossip… This is when I know how much I miss Yerevan and a certain drunk in particular, which in its turn makes me realize how much time has passed since then, and how much I’ve changed and mellowed in the last couple of years…

Richmond-wise – my frequent trips to Richmond are my saving grace, before I go completely nuts in Smalltown America. I have sublet the cutest room in a cutest row house in the Museum District for winter break. Within walking distance to Carytown and the museums on Boulevard, this is the closest I have lived to the Fan (the area may even be considered the Fan). Needless to say – I’m excited. And would like to extend an open invitations to those who might be interested in coming up for a visit. There. Any volunteers?

Relationship-wise –slowly, very slowly, one baby step at a time I have been recovering all the faith that I lost about relationships in general, and myself in a relationship in particular. My less than stellar track record in this particular area had left me with a reservation that there might be something innately wrong about me and commitments, and everything else that goes into making a functioning relationship. I am slowly coming to realize that after all my fears, mistakes, reservations and plain stubbornness, I am in the middle of a very happy relationship and that is one way of knowing that I finally reconciled all my past conflicts and got my priorities straight. Good to know – turns out it was not all completely hopeless…

Other-wise – to list a few random irrelevances observed as of late - an overall increase in TV watching (particularly CSI – only as little as three months ago I watched almost no TV), drastic decrease in caffeine and nicotine consumption (contrary to what you might think grad school does to you); diet consisting of peanut butter sandwiches, greasy free pizza that they give out at school (Heller school indeed tries to alleviate hunger one student at a time), cafeteria wraps and ravioli - my eating habits are not particularly exciting or exemplary. Yet, it does not bother me at all. Not now. Not at this point. Which I am taking as a good sign. I feel the same way about dropping a course so that the quality of my sleep does not suffer. A big leap forward, I’d say.

So that’s that - my life in a nutshell, kids. Not very exciting, but livable, I’d say. Better, much better than lives of those who do not have what today I am lucky to have and perhaps do not appreciate to the extent that I should. However, despite everything that annoys and frustrates me from one day to another, I do know that I am, still, happy as I’ve never been and forever grateful for everything that I have, - today, tomorrow and for many days to come.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

History of Time of Sorts

Long, long ago, before there was even sand in the hourglass, there was a teeny, tiny dot, so small it was virtually invisible -- that was presented to you as a gift.

At first, puzzled and perplexed, you thought it was a joke. Yet, trusting and inquisitive, your intuition led you to accept it and, before long, to carefully examine it.

And lo, after becoming extraordinarily teeny and tiny yourself, you found there was an entrance of sorts into this little treasure, in the form of a long and winding path. So inside you went, through the densest grove of ancient, moss-covered, bending oaks you will ever see. And before long, you found a shiny, gold, old-fashioned key that had been left upon a large, rounded stone, as if especially for you.

With key in hand you proceeded down the path until you arrived at a massive gate. Just above it there was a handwritten plaque for all who might pass beneath it:

"Welcome to the Jungles of Time and Space, Where nothing is as it seems, yet all things are possible. Should you ever feel lost or weary, Forget not from where you have come, And follow the signs..."

Peering between the wrought iron bars, you could see the entire Milky Way Galaxy and a hundred billion galaxies beyond it. Your thoughts raced, your imagination ran wild, and as you raised your key to the sturdy, reinforced lock, slowly slipping it in, and gently turning... there was a sudden flash of light and burst of sound. Whereupon, seemingly light-years later but, in fact, no longer than an instant, you found yourself in the most beautiful human form, living on the most beautiful little planet, having a wonderful life, a wrinkle of curiosity on your brow, reading this very Note, right here and now.
Talk about a sign -
The Universe

Saturday, October 27, 2007

Love is...

when you go to bed in boyfriend's boxers, hugging his t-shirt as a teddy bear...

Friday, October 26, 2007

On a Sunday morning a couple of weeks ago, when the boy was up here for a visit, I was making French toast, when Mother Sugar walks into the kitchen, sees me at the stove, stops in silence for a moment, gives a chuckle and says “Would you like an apron, Miss?

“No thanks. Would you like some orange juice?”

“Oh stop it, Miss Domestic.”

The boy’s watching the scene in silence. Mother Sugar turns to him and says,

“Just so you know, she isn’t usually like this…”

“Yeah, you’d be lucky to see me toasting a bagel.”

The boy, who has had more than one occasion of seeing me by the stove, doesn’t seem to understand how funny the whole situation is. Later I tell Mother Sugar, that you know, I’m quite domestic, after all.

“Ok, then. Dinner is at seven tonight?”

“Yup. Don’t be late. I’ll heat up the pasta that I made from the box the other day...”

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Slowly, reluctantly I am starting to fall into a routine. Despite my initial dismay, frustration and disappointment and after careful consideration of all my options, including dropping out or transferring, I finally came to realize that at this point the most rational thing I can do is stay exactly where I am and finish what I have started. Not that the issues that I have with the program, the school itself and the educational system in general are going to go away, or I am going to feel less of a conformist – merely a realization that with all things considered, including costs and benefits, staying here is perhaps the best option, especially since I will be out of here after the end of the academic year, only six months of internship away from getting the damn degree.

So now I’m getting sucked into the routine. Classes, assignments, midterm exams, group meetings here, community meetings there, lectures, seminars… I’d say I’m busy, except that I do not feel like what I do on daily basis is important or matters on the grand scheme. I’m merely going through motions without much excitement or motivation. I am not very productive, despite the fact that I’m on top of my classes; I don’t accomplish much, contrary to what my grades so far can tell; I feel like I waste too much time, sulk too much, watch too much TV. I feel like I am constantly trying to keep my academic life separate from the rest, I feel as if the rest of my life is somewhat on hold, and I’m here, merely biding time.

I feel like I’ve been biding my time for way too long. The past three years have been nothing but continuation of a transitional state, one temporary stay after another. It’s getting old, or perhaps it’s me who’s getting old and am tired and in need of permanence, stability, shape and order, less uncertainty…

I feel in constant conflict with myself. What I seem to want these days overlaps with what I need; where I seem to be moving towards to seems to not be where I want to be. It’s been a continuous, repetitive theme for quite a while, regardless of my daily routine. I am starting to forget what it is like to live in the moment. I feel like I’m starting to forget how to appreciate my day. I am starting to forget what it is that truly matters and am falling for promises for some distant future that I’m not sure I even want…

For now it’s the routine – school, classes, assignments, meetings here and there. I am, in a way busy, although none of it is either all that exciting or important in the grand scheme. And even if I know that the smartest thing for right now is to stay exactly where I am, the smartest thing may not necessarily be what is best for me.

Friday, October 19, 2007

Before I can even start thinking about development...

I will never forget the look of hope on the face of the farmer, as I watched him sign the loan agreement and handed out the loan in the amount of two hundred dollars. This would help him repair his old Soviet tractor and buy seeds for next year’s crop. He was happy. So was I. This was my first loan disbursement during the month of internship at FINCA Armenia. Since then I have seen the same expression of hope and gratitude on many faces, which has been the best reward in return to my work and the greatest source of inspiration. I do believe that it is possible to make a difference in the lives of people, however small the efforts and changes might appear at first glance.”

I applied to Brandies with a genuine desire to learn about development. Ranking among the best in the field, the program offered an alternative, “holistic” approach to global development issues, covering a wide range from poverty reduction to global health, to environmental protection to sustainability. At the time my knowledge of “development at work” was based on observation rather than first hand experience, and likewise, my understanding of development was more intuitive than based on existing theories and approaches or backed by empirical evidence.

I was driven by belief that it was “possible to make a difference in the lives of people, however small the efforts and changes might appear at first glance. ” I also felt that those who are more fortunate bear a certain responsibility towards those who are born without their basic rights and opportunities. To me development meant creating opportunities to those who are born without them, as further rephrased by one of my professors as “development is expanding human choices.”

By the time I got to Brandeis, I had read, if not significant, at least certain amount of literature that turned my aspirations to hardcore interrogations, my desire to learn how to achieve development to skeptical “why do existing approaches fail one after another,” and “are there any alternatives other than numerous attempts to achieve blueprint, universally applicable models that act more like band-aids than true solutions to existing issues?”

As I delve deeper and deeper in existing challenges facing development, I am overwhelmed by array of issues that arise as I attempt to answer even one single question. The misadventures of development practitioners in the field during the past decades, as phrased by my beloved Bill Easterly, leave little to no hope or reason to adhere to any given approach or method. Even more so, in the course of time, seemingly simple and well defined development objectives have been becoming more and more obscure as the attempts to overcome them are meeting bigger and bigger obstacles.

As reluctant as the field appears to be to admit its shortcomings and ignorance when it comes to achieving worldwide development, it is becoming obvious that if you don’t know what works, chances are you have little to nothing to teach about how to achieve development. The most you can do is to critique the past approaches, learn from past mistakes and search for alternatives that may not necessarily guarantee any tangible result. However, the first step in even trying to move towards development is to accept the fact that we are, initially, ignorant in the field and do not know how to achieve development, as our failures indicate, as opposed to pretending that we know what we’re doing and giving far reaching promises such as Millennium Development Goals stand today.

From this viewpoint, I cannot help but consider the moral implications of my choice. Medical students, before starting their practice, swear under oath to do no harm. There is no such oath for those practicing development. And yet, at this point it only feels as if we’re the blind trying to lead the meek, without stopping to question whether we’re doing good or making things even worse. Do we have the right to treat social policies as experiments of some kind and thrive to achieve development for the sake of development only without stopping to consider the lives we’re aiming to alter? Do we have the knowledge? Do we have the strength? Do we have the ethical right, even if our intent is driven by nothing but goodwill? Is our intent driven by goodwill alone? Is goodwill alone enough to try and accomplish something that’s rooted deep into centuries and challenges such basic fundamentals as justice, equality, basic rights and needs?

The hardest part of this journey is not the academic work (or in my case, the lack of challenge that I’m faced with these days). Nor is it the professional pressure or genuinity of my intent. It’s not even the over increasing complexity of social, political and economic challenges that the field of development faces. The hardest thing, as this point is finding answers to the ethical questions, without reconciliation of which I do not think I’ll be able to go on.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Doris Lessing Wins the Nobel Prize for Literature


Doris Lessing, "[the] epicist of the female experience, who with scepticism, fire and visionary power has subjected a divided civilisation to scrutiny," according to NobelPrize.org., wins the Nobel Prize for Literature, 2007.

Perhaps my most favorite writer of all times, whose books have impacted and shaped me like no other literary work has done. The Golden Notebook my one and only and all time bible to free womanhood is perhaps one of the greatest analysis of the forces, events and phenomena that shaped the post modern world depicting conflict at every level of fragmented society as we desperately fight and resist the limitations of human condition.

It makes me extremely, ecstatically happy to learn that the prize went to her, one of the greatest visionaries of out times.

For full stories, read here and here.
* Photograph courtesy to CBC.ca

Monday, October 08, 2007

This is actually starting to get a little scary

Only yesterday, through sobs and tears I mumbled, half legibly

"When you want something so badly and you don't get it, it hurts so bad that you stop believing that you will ever get anything you really truly want..."

And this morning:

Actually, Nika, it's not that you want stuff that you don' t have, but that you want stuff that you think you don't have.

And the best way to change this is to begin thinking that you have it.

"Oh, there's my electric, fully loaded, 2008 Habitron cloud maker!!!"
The Universe

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Are you playing with me, Universe?

Seriously, first this:

Talking a lot about something that bothers you, Nika, is a pretty good sign that you've got something huge, and profoundly liberating, to learn.

Whooohooooo!
The Universe

and then...

First, as a child, it seems like the entire world is there for you and you rush to drink from its every cup, sometimes wondering to yourself how anything could ever be more fun.

Then, as you grow older, if you're observant, you realize much of what you enjoy was made possible by the contributions, work, and labor of those who came before you, and you're taken aback, disappointed even , because with maturity you can now see cracks in the façades, imperfections in the details, and 10,000 ways it could have all been done better.

At which point, folks typically choose one of two paths: Spend a lifetime lamenting how far from perfect things are. Or, to one degree or another, roll up their sleeves and pitch in.

And should they choose the latter with gusto, dear Nika, they will come to know, to the core of their sacred being, that the differences they might make in the world cannot be made by another. And then they will discover the answer to their often-wondered childhood question.... That the most fun one can have in time and space comes from making such a difference, and that the joy derived from serving is 10,000 times that of being served.
At your service -
The Universe

Ok, i get it, i'll stop the bitching now.

Tuesday, October 02, 2007

I have been quiet for a while. I have also been down, depressed, disappointed, frustrated and apathetic about this whole school thing (and not only that, but that’s a whole other topic for discussion that I won’t go into at this point). I guess I am really having trouble with adjustment – but it’s the adjustment of my expectations rather than getting used to my new surroundings that is giving me the pains. I do not like the program – to put it as simply as I can. What on paper promised to be an academically rigorous top level education, in practice proved to lack challenge and be as full of bullshit as everything else. I’d follow Tamara’s advice and try to create my own learning path in this whole schooling process. In fact it looks like the only thing I can do in order to survive the next two semesters or so. And yet, at the same time, I cannot hold down the whole “what the fuck” question – the somewhat petty, but at the same time rather tangible and legitimate concern of mine – the financial cost. To pay a fortune for what does not hold to its promise? Am I simply paying for the name rather than quality? Am I buying rather than earning this degree? Surely it’s not groundbreaking news that education is some kind of business in its own way – but can’t you be at least a little subtle about it?

At this point I’m not sure what to do about what seems to cause me such great frustration and pain. Of course I could always quit, go back to Richmond, or home, or anywhere else for that matter, get a more or less satisfying job, do something I’ve always been good at doing – the mundane, repetitive everyday tasks, without expecting any immediate rewards. Or work for a non-profit, grassroots, community based development something or another – honestly, I don’t even NEED a degree to be able to do that – so what the hell am I doing wasting time and money?

But then, what little rationality I have insists that I give it at least another month or two, bite the bullet and go on, finish what I have started because, just like my boss told me– all I need is a piece of paper saying that I’ve got a degree, I’ll be better off with it than without it. But then, I have to question how good I am in playing along the pretense game and how I will feel about myself when all is done and finished. A hypocrite? A conformist? A hopeless cynic? All of the above? I do know bullshit when I see it. I recognize it from miles and miles away. As hard as I try, I cannot quite ignore it – at this point it’s only a matter of further exercising my skills to cope with it.

Maybe I will, after all, get something out of this on top of master’s degree – the perfected skill of coping with bullshit that can always come in handy in all aspects of life. Will it be worth forty grand? I guess only time will tell.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Mother Sugar asks me how I like the house so far. I tell her that I love it.
“What is it about it that you like?”
“It’s very artsy. Colorful. Open. Warm. It has such a positive vibe to it.”
She agrees. Then mentions that the reason she’s so curious is because at my age she would never live with a woman of her age. I tell her that one of the reasons i chose the house was her. She’s amazing, what can I say?

The house itself is very nice. It has a feeling of a home – something that i have been missing for a while. I am not sure whether it’s because of the all female household, or the way she has set it up to be, I love the warmth of this house. I feel safe here. Somewhat sheltered,

Mother Sugar has hosted several kids from my program. One of my roommates, an African queen from Ghana, is in my program as well. Mother Sugar knows so much about the program that she deserves an honorary degree for her indirect involvement and the amount of support she provides to the students.

We often talk about development. She listens closely to my skeptical and somewhat gloomy opinions about the state of development today and in the past. She finds them depressing. She says I sound different from all the other kids who seemed to be on perpetual high of goodwill. She says that I make her think. She thanks me for that. In her turn she asks me what the hell I’m doing getting into this… I tell her that I’m driven out of my biggest fear – the fear of poverty.

“Have you seen poverty from up close?” she asks.
“I have,” and I tell her about life in Armenia in the 90s after the Soviet collapse. She listens closely. Asks if my family is doing well now. I tell her that they’re all right.
“They are paying for your education, aren’t they?”
I look at her as if she’s in sane, at the same time realizing that there is no way in the world I could relay to her how impossible and outright lunatic is the idea of my mother supporting me. In her turn, she looks at me in disbelief.
“You know, my first impression of you was that you come from a wealthy family.”
Other than one of my bosses’ endearing mocking about my Persian princess attitude, this is a first. I am not sure how exactly I can tell her that it is beyond the attributes of wealth and poverty that I could even start to describe my background to her.

Mother Sugar tells me that she’s lived in poverty herself. Raised her kids in poverty in Israel. Looking at this woman, who seems as American as one can be, I have to wonder what her story is. Still most of it in the dark, I have a hard time putting the little snippets that she told about herself together - New York. Israel, Washington DC, Boston…
I wonder how much more there is to it behind this cheerful woman that reminds me so much of my own mother.

Our conversations leave me with a feeling that we share a new level of understanding, one that reaches beyond our genuine liking of each other, similarly radical political views, innate skepticism and intolerance of any kind of bullshit.

Somehow I feel like this year with Mother Sugar is going to give me a whole lot more than what I will learn at Brandeis. And I am extremely grateful for that.

Friday, September 07, 2007

After having been to classes for a full week, I can finally take a break for a minute, and make an “assessment” of my current situation.

I am starting to realize that I came to Brandeis with high expectations and the wrong attitude. And at the end of the week I can’t help but feel somewhat disappointed – still unsure whether my disappointment is unreasonable, or reasonably justified. Perhaps I am jumping to conclusions. Perhaps, it’s not the program, but my own ambivalence and attitude towards it, perhaps I am being arrogant, ungrateful, impatient, or maybe all of the above. I do realize that I should be grateful to be here. I do realize that this is a privilege. As the program director said in his opening speech (and we all know how to take these speeches seriously), I am, after all, among the lucky few, among the elite… How many people in the world have access to primary education, let alone graduate school at such fine academic institution? How can I not be ecstatic when I am so close to that shrine that I made graduate school be?

I am, in fact, surrounded by young professionals from all over the world. I am guided by mentors who have several decades of experience not only in academic field, but in the real world. They all have been there, right at the very grassroots – in gutter and squalor, in desert and jungle. My own adviser is the founder of the program himself, who’s been all over the world, and led and directed multiple programs within the giants of the industry. My professors have held similar high ranking and respectable positions… Our inspirations are shared, our dreams are encouraged, our academic aspirations rewarded…

Day in day out classrooms heave with our joint goodwill, compassion and empathy, arguments flare with bright ideas and passion… Reading materials encompass the finest ideas from all over the world, to serve as food for further thought… This is my element, right here, in these classrooms, among the bright and accomplished and young and inspired… And yet, by the end of the day I feel as if I have been let down, disappointed, lost…

I did, after all, come here with highest expectation to find not only shared compassion and good will, but in search of excellence, highest academic excellence that takes nothing for granted, tolerates no givens, when even the most obvious, apparent, almost axiomatic notions are questioned, challenged, dissected. Excellence that can no longer afford naiveté, excellence that looks beyond the accepted, traditional and takes the uniform thoughts to a completely new level of seeing, reasoning, understanding…

So far I am yet to come across such excellence.
For now, I have to wonder whether my expectations were, in fact, unreasonably high. Perhaps I did turn the idea of graduate school into a shrine of some kind, an almost impossible shrine that only very few can reach… Perhaps, what I am looking for is not to be found here, in this fine academic institution or anywhere else, for that matter.

Yet, what I am feeling now is not just disappointment. What I am experiencing is Holden Caulfield syndrome of some sorts. Despite my excitement, my blatant admiration of the new faces that I got to meet in such a short period time and my initial inspiration with such high reaching and noble ideas, what i see and hear is something old, familiar, too subtle and elusive for me to be able to explain, yet tangible enough to be felt with my backbone – the fake… false, carefully guised undertones that creep in every time professor pauses to cough, every time a question is left hanging in the air in the pursuit of the next. The game of pretense. The old, familiar game of pretense… None of this is serious, none of this matters, coined phrases thrown back and forth, clichés, technical words that have become so common that they have lost their meaning, recycled, repetitive ideas that are being served to us on a pretty plate like an exotic and fabulous dish…

It’s going to be a long year…

I already want it to be over. Hence the bad attitude.

And yet, I need to remind myself, before I move on to my next assigned reading, that it’s not just the Master’s degree that I’m here for. Although the last thing I want to do during the next year or so is to question and challenge everything that’s served on my plate, I do need to exercise a certain sense of reality and healthy dose of cynicism to get through this…

More on this later…
Back to the dissecting table – my daily readings, that is.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Busy

I know, I know, it's the familiar, untelling, knee-jerk answer that you hear left and right, but at this point, this is the only thing i can come up with, until some of the chaos of the first week of classes, unnecessarily complicated registration process and just getting used to my new surroundings and schedule finally settles down. For now, here's an excerpt from my bible of everydayness by Amy Krouse Rosenthal on this very brief and limited one word answer - busy.

How you been?
Busy.

How’s work?
Busy.

How was your week?
Good. Busy.


You name the question, “
Busy” is the answer. Yes, yes, I know we are all terribly busy doing terribly important things. But I think more often than not, “Busy” is simply the most acceptable knee-jerk response.
Certainly there are more interesting, more original, and more accurate ways to answer the question how are you? How about: I’m hungry for a waffle; I’m envious of my best friend; I’m annoyed by everything that’s broken in my house; I’m itchy.
Yet busy stands as the easiest way of summarizing all that you do and all that you are. I am busy is the short way of saying —suggesting—my time is filled, my phone does not stop ringing, and you (therefore) should think well of me.
Have people always been this busy? Did cavemen think they were busy, too? This week is crazy—I’ve got about ten caves to draw on. Can I meet you by the fire next week? I have a hunch that there is a direct correlation between the advent of coffee chains and the increase in busy-ness. Look at us. We’re all pros now at hailing a cab/pushing a grocery cart/operating a forklift with a to-go cup in hand. We’re skittering about like hyperactive gerbils, high not just on caffeine but on caffeine’s luscious by-product, productivity. Ah, the joy of doing, accomplishing, crossing off.
As kids, our stock answer to most every question was nothing. What did you do at school today? Nothing. What’s new? Nothing. Then, somewhere on the way to adulthood, we each took a 180-degree turn. We cashed in our nothing for busy. I’m starting to think that, like youth, the word nothing is wasted on the young. Maybe we should try reintroducing it into our grown-up vernacular. Nothing. I say it a few times and I can feel myself becoming more quiet, decaffeinated. Nothing. Now I’m picturing emptiness, a white blanket, a couple ducks gliding on a still pond. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. How did we get so far from it?
See also: Coffee, Stopping for;
Crossing Guard; Nothing