The reason I had to condense my visit to New York was that I had to fly to Maine for my grandfather's funeral. Grampy passed away on October 5, after being sick for the better part of this year. He was 89.
We had managed to visit Grampy this summer when we heard that he was declining. We discovered that he wasn't faring well at all physically, and every now and again was prone to some bouts of dementia, but by and large he was still with it. He was cranky about the fact that he could no longer do what he pleased or eat what he wanted, but he knew who we all were and seemed to grasp his situation. In the past few weeks he hasn't been as aware. Like Pop-Pop earlier this year, Grampy passed away at precisely the point when we knew that any kind of "recovery" would only prolong any suffering or indignity.
Also like Pop-Pop, Grampy made for good stories. This was a man who waxed rhapsodic about an apple pie that he had in 1939. When he was 80 years old and 100 pounds overweight, he would jump over the side of his houseboat into the water to work on any engine trouble that might occur. He was incredibly literate, and could recall just about every classic novel he'd ever read. He once was buried alive during a construction project, and was interviewed by the local news after he was freed. The newsperson asked him what he thinking while he awaited rescue, probably anticipating some maudlin soundbite about Grampy's love for his family or his faith. Grampy instead responded, "Well, I was thinking about getting out, you damn fool."
Grampy and Grammy were married to each other for 64 years. I'm lucky in that I was able to know him for so long, and talk with him about books and history and how things were when he was a boy (he often started stories with the phrase, "When I was as big as you..."). I'm not so lucky in that I have lost two grandparents in one year, but I suppose that if you approach 24 years of age with three surviving elderly grandparents, you should consider yourself blessed.
Robyn
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Condensed New York
Greetings from Richboro, from where I will attempt to re-cap the past few days in a few posts.
Let's discuss pleasant things first. I went up for a long-scheduled trip to New York this weekend, primarily to see a U2 show. A secondary, but by no means insignificant, reason was that I hadn't been to New York since January. It seems inexcusable, until I consider how damn busy the summer has been with family events and work schedules. It never ceases to amaze me how busy we seem to be despite being fairly boring folks.
Anyway, we arrived in New York City during what is apparently the monsoon season for the northeastern United States. Usually I am not deterred by a little bit of rain. But with the exception of sporting some rather fantastic pink and purple galoshes, I found nothing redeeming about this week's rainstorms. New York got more rainfall in one day than it received in all the time from the beginning of July through September, which is nuts.
We still managed to achieve our most important aims. The show was brilliant. I had seen U2 play at the Meadowlands just after 9/11/2001, and that was great. But I had never seen them play at Madison Square Garden, which I'm told is second only to seeing them play in Dublin. Based on Saturday's concert, I would be inclined to say it was the best gig I'd seen. The audience was incredibly enthusiastic, even up in the nosebleed seats where I was, and nobody onstage seemed the least bit jaded at playing the Garden for the gazillionth time. They seemed to regard it as a bit of a homecoming. If you are so inclined, I very much recommend catching them in NYC proper. Quite a spectacle.
The crowd was leaving the complex in an appropriately jovial mood -- which was quickly quashed by the insane downpour and stinging, cold winds outside. Umbrellas were being launched five stories into the air after being ripped from people's hands by the wind. We briefly considered heading out anyway after warming up in our nearby hotel, but our cozy quarters proved more inviting than the weather outside, and I made the unusual choice of staying in on a Saturday night in NYC.
The next day consisted of us running about and hopping the Subway to all points between Times Square and Washington Square (security threats be damned). We caught up with old friends, visited some shops, enjoyed what will probably be our only lunch at the way-overpriced Second Avenue Deli (home of the $10 fried matzo) and picked up some cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery in the West Village. The night was capped off by a required visit to Rockefeller Center and a dinner at the always fabulous Bamiyan Afghan restaurant. I always get a bit greedy when I visit old favorite restaurants, because I don't know when I'll be back. So Jeffrey and I loaded up on sweet Afghan tea, pumpkin turnovers, beef kabobs, meat dumplings in yogurt sauce, and of course, delicious doogh.
I have learned in the past few visits to target my itineraries on specific areas in the city. Thus, no Met or Central Park this time. Although I never feel like I have enough time in New York, I had more pressing reasons for condensing my visit as much as I could before I had to leave...
Robyn
Let's discuss pleasant things first. I went up for a long-scheduled trip to New York this weekend, primarily to see a U2 show. A secondary, but by no means insignificant, reason was that I hadn't been to New York since January. It seems inexcusable, until I consider how damn busy the summer has been with family events and work schedules. It never ceases to amaze me how busy we seem to be despite being fairly boring folks.
Anyway, we arrived in New York City during what is apparently the monsoon season for the northeastern United States. Usually I am not deterred by a little bit of rain. But with the exception of sporting some rather fantastic pink and purple galoshes, I found nothing redeeming about this week's rainstorms. New York got more rainfall in one day than it received in all the time from the beginning of July through September, which is nuts.
We still managed to achieve our most important aims. The show was brilliant. I had seen U2 play at the Meadowlands just after 9/11/2001, and that was great. But I had never seen them play at Madison Square Garden, which I'm told is second only to seeing them play in Dublin. Based on Saturday's concert, I would be inclined to say it was the best gig I'd seen. The audience was incredibly enthusiastic, even up in the nosebleed seats where I was, and nobody onstage seemed the least bit jaded at playing the Garden for the gazillionth time. They seemed to regard it as a bit of a homecoming. If you are so inclined, I very much recommend catching them in NYC proper. Quite a spectacle.
The crowd was leaving the complex in an appropriately jovial mood -- which was quickly quashed by the insane downpour and stinging, cold winds outside. Umbrellas were being launched five stories into the air after being ripped from people's hands by the wind. We briefly considered heading out anyway after warming up in our nearby hotel, but our cozy quarters proved more inviting than the weather outside, and I made the unusual choice of staying in on a Saturday night in NYC.
The next day consisted of us running about and hopping the Subway to all points between Times Square and Washington Square (security threats be damned). We caught up with old friends, visited some shops, enjoyed what will probably be our only lunch at the way-overpriced Second Avenue Deli (home of the $10 fried matzo) and picked up some cupcakes at Magnolia Bakery in the West Village. The night was capped off by a required visit to Rockefeller Center and a dinner at the always fabulous Bamiyan Afghan restaurant. I always get a bit greedy when I visit old favorite restaurants, because I don't know when I'll be back. So Jeffrey and I loaded up on sweet Afghan tea, pumpkin turnovers, beef kabobs, meat dumplings in yogurt sauce, and of course, delicious doogh.
I have learned in the past few visits to target my itineraries on specific areas in the city. Thus, no Met or Central Park this time. Although I never feel like I have enough time in New York, I had more pressing reasons for condensing my visit as much as I could before I had to leave...
Robyn
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Hometown Pride: Dispatch from Rio
From special correspondent Cassandra Kennedy, on location in Brazil:
All is fab here. I managed to get hammered and make tons of friends within 4 hours of arriving. Gotta love it! The corner bar (site of this initial revelry) just happens to be a little hangout for hookers very late at night when (their) business is slow. Sounds dodgy but they are pretty cool.
They have an ``interesting`` outlook on life as you can imagine. So I just had to pop in and relay this little tidbit - I thought you´d get a kick out of it. I was chatting with this hooker (Esmerelda) and 2 guys - all were from the Brazilian countryside and bitching about how violent it is here and how they´re sick of it in Rio. She pulls her shirt down and shows me this scar on her boob and says it was from getting stabbed during a mugging. Oi! I said it´s really violent where I live, too - in some areas. She asked if I knew where Philadelphia was and I said I lived pretty nearby.
Then she freaked out and was telling the guys in Portuguese ``oh my god - you guys would not believe Philadelphia life. It´s the only place worse than Rio. It´s like crazy shootings and super rough. The cops will just shoot you down, too. Wow! Wow!``
And then after that, it was like I had street cred with them. Too funny. None of them have ever been outside of Brazil but they have certainly heard all about Philly. Just thought you should know and be proud:)
I should say that our time here has not been crazy violent or dangerous - more like paradise! Miss you girls...
cK
Editor's note: Clearly, Ms. Kennedy leads a far more interesting existence than most mortals.
All is fab here. I managed to get hammered and make tons of friends within 4 hours of arriving. Gotta love it! The corner bar (site of this initial revelry) just happens to be a little hangout for hookers very late at night when (their) business is slow. Sounds dodgy but they are pretty cool.
They have an ``interesting`` outlook on life as you can imagine. So I just had to pop in and relay this little tidbit - I thought you´d get a kick out of it. I was chatting with this hooker (Esmerelda) and 2 guys - all were from the Brazilian countryside and bitching about how violent it is here and how they´re sick of it in Rio. She pulls her shirt down and shows me this scar on her boob and says it was from getting stabbed during a mugging. Oi! I said it´s really violent where I live, too - in some areas. She asked if I knew where Philadelphia was and I said I lived pretty nearby.
Then she freaked out and was telling the guys in Portuguese ``oh my god - you guys would not believe Philadelphia life. It´s the only place worse than Rio. It´s like crazy shootings and super rough. The cops will just shoot you down, too. Wow! Wow!``
And then after that, it was like I had street cred with them. Too funny. None of them have ever been outside of Brazil but they have certainly heard all about Philly. Just thought you should know and be proud:)
I should say that our time here has not been crazy violent or dangerous - more like paradise! Miss you girls...
cK
Editor's note: Clearly, Ms. Kennedy leads a far more interesting existence than most mortals.
Monday, September 5, 2005
New Orleans
It really is frustrating what's happening in New Orleans and Mississippi.
At work, we usually only deal with international crises, because normally the needs of a domestic crisis and one in a developing country are unique. But now many of our member organizations who normally only deal with international issues, especially refugees, are being called upon for their advice, since most domestic aid outfits don't know how to deal with third-world conditions and massive amounts of displaced people.
I'm at a loss as to how it got so bad. The tsunami affected thirteen countries on two continents, displacing people in rural, poverty-stricken areas with no pre-existing infrastructure, and people were able to be fed, administered to, and sheltered. The United States of America can't get people out of a sports arena. I normally cringe when people make comparisons to crises such as Darfur, but the situation in the Superdome and the New Orleans convention center is dishearteningly similar to that taking place in IDP camps in Sudan. After 9/11, so much money was invested in making sure we were prepared for disasters, and it seems like the only thing that was accomplished was was the creation of an even bigger beuraucracy that made us even more poorly equipped to respond to an emergency.
The worst thing for me is that this was not an unforeseen event. The tsunami caught everyone by surprise. 9/11 caught us unawares. But the idea of a monster hurricane devastating New Orleans was something that had been predicted and studied. It's carelessness and petty politics that have made things as bad as they are, and we should be embarrassed. And with donations being offered from the UN and tsunami-stricken Sri Lanka, I think we may need to be a lot more humble in our foreign relations as well.
Robyn
At work, we usually only deal with international crises, because normally the needs of a domestic crisis and one in a developing country are unique. But now many of our member organizations who normally only deal with international issues, especially refugees, are being called upon for their advice, since most domestic aid outfits don't know how to deal with third-world conditions and massive amounts of displaced people.
I'm at a loss as to how it got so bad. The tsunami affected thirteen countries on two continents, displacing people in rural, poverty-stricken areas with no pre-existing infrastructure, and people were able to be fed, administered to, and sheltered. The United States of America can't get people out of a sports arena. I normally cringe when people make comparisons to crises such as Darfur, but the situation in the Superdome and the New Orleans convention center is dishearteningly similar to that taking place in IDP camps in Sudan. After 9/11, so much money was invested in making sure we were prepared for disasters, and it seems like the only thing that was accomplished was was the creation of an even bigger beuraucracy that made us even more poorly equipped to respond to an emergency.
The worst thing for me is that this was not an unforeseen event. The tsunami caught everyone by surprise. 9/11 caught us unawares. But the idea of a monster hurricane devastating New Orleans was something that had been predicted and studied. It's carelessness and petty politics that have made things as bad as they are, and we should be embarrassed. And with donations being offered from the UN and tsunami-stricken Sri Lanka, I think we may need to be a lot more humble in our foreign relations as well.
Robyn
Sunday, August 7, 2005
Monuments in the Moonlight
This evening we did something we've been meaning to do since we moved to DC. We drove down to the national Mall and went for a walk by the monuments at midnight. If you have the opportunity, I highly recommend it. There's plenty of parking around there, so you don't have to worry about traipsing around the mean streets of DC in the dark (not recommended). There's enough people around so you don't have to worry about it being too desolate, but not nearly the teeming masses that swarm about the place in the daytime. Plus, in the summer, it's a lot cooler. It had been in the upper 90s the day that we went, but by the Washington Monument there was a pleasant breeze. We only walked from the Washington Monument to Lincoln and then back through the Vietnam memorial, but that's a deceptively long hike, and we had had enough by the time we got back to the car. Another bonus of going late at night is that all of the ducks and their little baby ducklets can be seen cuddled up together along the edge of the reflecting pool.
Awww....
And I can finally personally attest, as I have been dying to for ages now, that the ring of asphalt surrounding the Washington Monument is just dandy for roller skating.
Robyn
Awww....
And I can finally personally attest, as I have been dying to for ages now, that the ring of asphalt surrounding the Washington Monument is just dandy for roller skating.
Robyn
Saturday, July 9, 2005
It's Always Something...
I swear to God Live 8 feels like a lifetime ago.
Here's the good news: I think I'm closer to the conclusion that I'm really really excited about the kind of work that I do. Not Executive Assistant duties, but the whole activism thang. We started this week on such a high. We had worked so hard for so long for this incredible week of events leading up to the G8 meeting in Scotland. Our grassroots and policy people were focused on the concerts and the One Campaign, as well as a whole global movement of awareness-raising events. Our program people were not just tracking their own issues (trade, debt cancellation, disaster relief, all that fun stuff.), but working together to focus our concerns on this one huge event. I was knee-deep in the not very sexy world of logistics and travel arrangements to send people to Edinburgh, but I felt like I was doing my part. Actually going to the concerts and seeing that people were absorbing the message was hugely gratifying to us. We weren't so naive as to believe that some kind of miracle was going to come out of the Summit, but there was no doubt that the collective effort or our organizations and the groups that we worked with had caught the attention of the most powerful people on Earth. We were excited to see what they would do.
So that's why the events on July 7 in London were such a gut punch on so many levels.
I usually don't turn on the news until about 10 minutes before I'm ready to leave in the morning. I'm really not one to break down into tears. That's really not my style. But I was so gutted by what I saw on the television, that I started sobbing into my oatmeal. I seriously considered not going in, but there was work to do. Predictably, the mood at work was very, very glum. Like everyone else, we were all sad for London, which had been having such a glorious week up to that point with the concerts and the G8 and the Olympics. I had been listening to my favorite London radio station all that week, and they were just ecstatic. Now they were completely bewildered and traumatized. Having lived there, and being very well acquainted with the targeted areas, and knowing a thing or two about living in a traumatized city, I was taking it rather hard on that front.
But there was another angle for us at work as well. The focus of the G8 Summit shifted dramatically. When Tony Blair left Gleneagles, we all felt like all our hopes of something being done about global poverty left with him. We had come so far in the past week, and because of the actions of a few petty and thoughtless individuals, another beautiful city that I loved was in tears and all the work that so many people had done all over the world looked to be ruined. We were sad for the Londoners, for the Africans, for the organizers -- we were just devastated.
So we waited. Our people in Scotland were fairly pessimistic. So many people there were based in London, that Edinburgh emptied out quite a bit. The media calls that had been so focused on the Make Poverty History push stopped coming to them. Our staff were sitting in hotels, just waiting for something, anything, to come out of the Summit that they could react to. Then they announced the $50 billion aid package to Africa.
There are two ways you could look at this. On the critical side, $50 billion by 2010 falls way, way short of the targets that these countries had set for themselves five years ago. There is no guarantee or practical plan for actually coming through with the aid, so it could just be a chance for a fantastic headline that will never be realized, which happens quite a bit. Many of the other primary issues that the activists were pushing for, such as increased fair trade, were given lip service at best, ignored at worst.
But then there's the bright side (which, I'm sorry to say, the good people that I work with are usually disinclined to acknowledge. We're not happy if we're not miserable, it seems at times). Global poverty and Africa were given more attention than they ever had been in previous years. The whole world may have gotten distracted on the day of the Summit, but more people know about these issues than they had previously. Like I said to one despondent colleague, we're not as far as we were a week ago, but we're a hell of a lot farther than we were a year ago.
So again, the good news is that I have a passion. The bad news is that because of that, my heart is broken this week. Someone at work said that we would all be a lot less stressed if we just didn't care. But then I don't think life would be half as interesting, and the payoffs, when they come, wouldn't be nearly as sublime.
There's another huge policy meeting at the UN in September, focused on the Millennium Development Goals to end global poverty. Time to get to work...
Robyn
Here's the good news: I think I'm closer to the conclusion that I'm really really excited about the kind of work that I do. Not Executive Assistant duties, but the whole activism thang. We started this week on such a high. We had worked so hard for so long for this incredible week of events leading up to the G8 meeting in Scotland. Our grassroots and policy people were focused on the concerts and the One Campaign, as well as a whole global movement of awareness-raising events. Our program people were not just tracking their own issues (trade, debt cancellation, disaster relief, all that fun stuff.), but working together to focus our concerns on this one huge event. I was knee-deep in the not very sexy world of logistics and travel arrangements to send people to Edinburgh, but I felt like I was doing my part. Actually going to the concerts and seeing that people were absorbing the message was hugely gratifying to us. We weren't so naive as to believe that some kind of miracle was going to come out of the Summit, but there was no doubt that the collective effort or our organizations and the groups that we worked with had caught the attention of the most powerful people on Earth. We were excited to see what they would do.
So that's why the events on July 7 in London were such a gut punch on so many levels.
I usually don't turn on the news until about 10 minutes before I'm ready to leave in the morning. I'm really not one to break down into tears. That's really not my style. But I was so gutted by what I saw on the television, that I started sobbing into my oatmeal. I seriously considered not going in, but there was work to do. Predictably, the mood at work was very, very glum. Like everyone else, we were all sad for London, which had been having such a glorious week up to that point with the concerts and the G8 and the Olympics. I had been listening to my favorite London radio station all that week, and they were just ecstatic. Now they were completely bewildered and traumatized. Having lived there, and being very well acquainted with the targeted areas, and knowing a thing or two about living in a traumatized city, I was taking it rather hard on that front.
But there was another angle for us at work as well. The focus of the G8 Summit shifted dramatically. When Tony Blair left Gleneagles, we all felt like all our hopes of something being done about global poverty left with him. We had come so far in the past week, and because of the actions of a few petty and thoughtless individuals, another beautiful city that I loved was in tears and all the work that so many people had done all over the world looked to be ruined. We were sad for the Londoners, for the Africans, for the organizers -- we were just devastated.
So we waited. Our people in Scotland were fairly pessimistic. So many people there were based in London, that Edinburgh emptied out quite a bit. The media calls that had been so focused on the Make Poverty History push stopped coming to them. Our staff were sitting in hotels, just waiting for something, anything, to come out of the Summit that they could react to. Then they announced the $50 billion aid package to Africa.
There are two ways you could look at this. On the critical side, $50 billion by 2010 falls way, way short of the targets that these countries had set for themselves five years ago. There is no guarantee or practical plan for actually coming through with the aid, so it could just be a chance for a fantastic headline that will never be realized, which happens quite a bit. Many of the other primary issues that the activists were pushing for, such as increased fair trade, were given lip service at best, ignored at worst.
But then there's the bright side (which, I'm sorry to say, the good people that I work with are usually disinclined to acknowledge. We're not happy if we're not miserable, it seems at times). Global poverty and Africa were given more attention than they ever had been in previous years. The whole world may have gotten distracted on the day of the Summit, but more people know about these issues than they had previously. Like I said to one despondent colleague, we're not as far as we were a week ago, but we're a hell of a lot farther than we were a year ago.
So again, the good news is that I have a passion. The bad news is that because of that, my heart is broken this week. Someone at work said that we would all be a lot less stressed if we just didn't care. But then I don't think life would be half as interesting, and the payoffs, when they come, wouldn't be nearly as sublime.
There's another huge policy meeting at the UN in September, focused on the Millennium Development Goals to end global poverty. Time to get to work...
Robyn
It's Always Something...
I swear to God Live 8 feels like a lifetime ago.
Here's the good news: I think I'm closer to the conclusion that I'm really really excited about the kind of work that I do. Not Executive Assistant duties, but the whole activism thang. We started this week on such a high. We had worked so hard for so long for this incredible week of events leading up to the G8 meeting in Scotland. Our grassroots and policy people were focused on the concerts and the One Campaign, as well as a whole global movement of awareness-raising events. Our program people were not just tracking their own issues (trade, debt cancellation, disaster relief, all that fun stuff.), but working together to focus our concerns on this one huge event. I was knee-deep in the not very sexy world of logistics and travel arrangements to send people to Edinburgh, but I felt like I was doing my part. Actually going to the concerts and seeing that people were absorbing the message was hugely gratifying to us. We weren't so naive as to believe that some kind of miracle was going to come out of the Summit, but there was no doubt that the collective effort or our organizations and the groups that we worked with had caught the attention of the most powerful people on Earth. We were excited to see what they would do.
So that's why the events on July 7 in London were such a gut punch on so many levels.
I usually don't turn on the news until about 10 minutes before I'm ready to leave in the morning. I'm really not one to break down into tears. That's really not my style. But I was so gutted by what I saw on the television, that I started sobbing into my oatmeal. I seriously considered not going in, but there was work to do. Predictably, the mood at work was very, very glum. Like everyone else, we were all sad for London, which had been having such a glorious week up to that point with the concerts and the G8 and the Olympics. I had been listening to my favorite London radio station all that week, and they were just ecstatic. Now they were completely bewildered and traumatized. Having lived there, and being very well acquainted with the targeted areas, and knowing a thing or two about living in a traumatized city, I was taking it rather hard on that front.
But there was another angle for us at work as well. The focus of the G8 Summit shifted dramatically. When Tony Blair left Gleneagles, we all felt like all our hopes of something being done about global poverty left with him. We had come so far in the past week, and because of the actions of a few petty and thoughtless individuals, another beautiful city that I loved was in tears and all the work that so many people had done all over the world looked to be ruined. We were sad for the Londoners, for the Africans, for the organizers -- we were just devastated.
So we waited. Our people in Scotland were fairly pessimistic. So many people there were based in London, that Edinburgh emptied out quite a bit. The media calls that had been so focused on the Make Poverty History push stopped coming to them. Our staff were sitting in hotels, just waiting for something, anything, to come out of the Summit that they could react to. Then they announced the $50 billion aid package to Africa.
There are two ways you could look at this. On the critical side, $50 billion by 2010 falls way, way short of the targets that these countries had set for themselves five years ago. There is no guarantee or practical plan for actually coming through with the aid, so it could just be a chance for a fantastic headline that will never be realized, which happens quite a bit. Many of the other primary issues that the activists were pushing for, such as increased fair trade, were given lip service at best, ignored at worst.
But then there's the bright side (which, I'm sorry to say, the good people that I work with are usually disinclined to acknowledge. We're not happy if we're not miserable, it seems at times). Global poverty and Africa were given more attention than they ever had been in previous years. The whole world may have gotten distracted on the day of the Summit, but more people know about these issues than they had previously. Like I said to one despondent colleague, we're not as far as we were a week ago, but we're a hell of a lot farther than we were a year ago.
So again, the good news is that I have a passion. The bad news is that because of that, my heart is broken this week. Someone at work said that we would all be a lot less stressed if we just didn't care. But then I don't think life would be half as interesting, and the payoffs, when they come, wouldn't be nearly as sublime.
There's another huge policy meeting at the UN in September, focused on the Millennium Development Goals to end global poverty. Time to get to work...
Robyn
Here's the good news: I think I'm closer to the conclusion that I'm really really excited about the kind of work that I do. Not Executive Assistant duties, but the whole activism thang. We started this week on such a high. We had worked so hard for so long for this incredible week of events leading up to the G8 meeting in Scotland. Our grassroots and policy people were focused on the concerts and the One Campaign, as well as a whole global movement of awareness-raising events. Our program people were not just tracking their own issues (trade, debt cancellation, disaster relief, all that fun stuff.), but working together to focus our concerns on this one huge event. I was knee-deep in the not very sexy world of logistics and travel arrangements to send people to Edinburgh, but I felt like I was doing my part. Actually going to the concerts and seeing that people were absorbing the message was hugely gratifying to us. We weren't so naive as to believe that some kind of miracle was going to come out of the Summit, but there was no doubt that the collective effort or our organizations and the groups that we worked with had caught the attention of the most powerful people on Earth. We were excited to see what they would do.
So that's why the events on July 7 in London were such a gut punch on so many levels.
I usually don't turn on the news until about 10 minutes before I'm ready to leave in the morning. I'm really not one to break down into tears. That's really not my style. But I was so gutted by what I saw on the television, that I started sobbing into my oatmeal. I seriously considered not going in, but there was work to do. Predictably, the mood at work was very, very glum. Like everyone else, we were all sad for London, which had been having such a glorious week up to that point with the concerts and the G8 and the Olympics. I had been listening to my favorite London radio station all that week, and they were just ecstatic. Now they were completely bewildered and traumatized. Having lived there, and being very well acquainted with the targeted areas, and knowing a thing or two about living in a traumatized city, I was taking it rather hard on that front.
But there was another angle for us at work as well. The focus of the G8 Summit shifted dramatically. When Tony Blair left Gleneagles, we all felt like all our hopes of something being done about global poverty left with him. We had come so far in the past week, and because of the actions of a few petty and thoughtless individuals, another beautiful city that I loved was in tears and all the work that so many people had done all over the world looked to be ruined. We were sad for the Londoners, for the Africans, for the organizers -- we were just devastated.
So we waited. Our people in Scotland were fairly pessimistic. So many people there were based in London, that Edinburgh emptied out quite a bit. The media calls that had been so focused on the Make Poverty History push stopped coming to them. Our staff were sitting in hotels, just waiting for something, anything, to come out of the Summit that they could react to. Then they announced the $50 billion aid package to Africa.
There are two ways you could look at this. On the critical side, $50 billion by 2010 falls way, way short of the targets that these countries had set for themselves five years ago. There is no guarantee or practical plan for actually coming through with the aid, so it could just be a chance for a fantastic headline that will never be realized, which happens quite a bit. Many of the other primary issues that the activists were pushing for, such as increased fair trade, were given lip service at best, ignored at worst.
But then there's the bright side (which, I'm sorry to say, the good people that I work with are usually disinclined to acknowledge. We're not happy if we're not miserable, it seems at times). Global poverty and Africa were given more attention than they ever had been in previous years. The whole world may have gotten distracted on the day of the Summit, but more people know about these issues than they had previously. Like I said to one despondent colleague, we're not as far as we were a week ago, but we're a hell of a lot farther than we were a year ago.
So again, the good news is that I have a passion. The bad news is that because of that, my heart is broken this week. Someone at work said that we would all be a lot less stressed if we just didn't care. But then I don't think life would be half as interesting, and the payoffs, when they come, wouldn't be nearly as sublime.
There's another huge policy meeting at the UN in September, focused on the Millennium Development Goals to end global poverty. Time to get to work...
Robyn
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