Worth Your Time
This post basically sounds like it could be straight out of my life: How to get girls at Makerere (warning: this blog includes adult subject matter)
Ben recently did a consulting gig where he was developing a curriculum that will be used with commercial sex workers. Sometimes it was a challenge to marry the realities of life in Uganda and the philosophies of some of his Dutch advisory group (the Netherlands is known for a very particular view on commercial sex work–think Amsterdam). One example that we discussed over dinner: they (the dutch people) thought the section on sexual and reproductive health needed to include a demonstration of how to put a condom on a man with one’s mouth. Hmm. OK, that could be true. Maybe, if that skill leads to more regular use of protection it could be justified. But is that true? Research with commercial sex workers suggests that sexual intercourse is most common, and they rarely perform other sexual acts. So, how relevant is this in this context? Was there any evidence to suggest that a client that is refusing to wear protection would acquiesce if offered an alternative way of putting it on? Thus started the poll.
Everything I wanted to say but couldn’t find the energy for: Glenn Beck, you make me sick. Here’s an excerpt, but read the whole thing:
The amount of time I normally give to Beck and the Tea Baggers is the time it takes to hit delete on an email. You know the ones… they are usually full of misinformation and have a lot of all capital letters, bright red size 64 font, and tell me to fear Obama, Mexicans, Muslim takeovers and universal healthcare.
But Beck’s coloring of Liberation Theology in this video clip “Liberation Theology and the Political Perversion of Christianity” and his take on social justice make me really angry.
In the Liberation Theology clip, Beck paints this vision of people who follow liberation theology. “These are people who, besides blowing stuff up, were also having a sexual revolution, trying to smash monogamy. This isn’t about God to them in any shape or form.”
A reporter tells about an Afghan refugee he met in Pakistan and prepares himself to return back to the US: By Bread Alone
The following night and every night since then, up until the death of his wife, the baker would meet the police officer at 8:30 p.m. near the corner of Street 57 and G-8 a block from his bakery. Eventually, their meetings became as much a routine for the baker as awakening at sunrise when the mullahs called the faithful to prayer. The baker was never late for their nightly rendezvous. In fact, he looked forward to seeing the police officer in the same way he anticipated talking to his regular morning customers. They asked one another about their families, shared the latest gossip about so and so politician or Bollywood movie star, wondered how much longer winter would last, and argued about their favorite cricket teams. The baker considered himself a customer of the police officer. And as his customers paid him daily for his bread, the baker paid the police officer nightly for his protection.
And yes, I’m back from Thailand! Pictures and stories to come, but posting will be light for the next few days while I’m getting back to work and starting a new round of pregnancy workshops. Be well!