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tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287655672014-10-02T21:48:56.834-07:00mongolia diaries, or the views hereunder are not those of Peace Corpsdylanhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-45229066672097896982007-06-22T22:10:00.000-07:002007-06-22T22:11:03.575-07:00Along the Ider River gers were scattered in threes and fours like dirty white beads hung on a blue thread. We sat four in the backseat of a tiny Korean Excel struggling across the boulders in the road and charging through narrow streams. Our driver, a man like a preschool sculpture, a potato body with toothpicks stuck into it for legs, stopped here and there trying to locate the family we would live with for the next two days. Gathering a bit of information from each person he asked, he'd return to the car with his too much body and rattle the car a bit further down the road.
 We stopped finally in a camp of four gers and waited for our hosts to come out and hold down the dogs. With each dog safely pinned to the earth we got out and stretched our crumpled legs. We were with one of my students, Nyamtseveen, who was bringing her nephew to his grandparents to complete his haircutting ceremony. Three of my friends and I were there to ride horses, play frisbee, and eat yogurt.
 We arrived in the late afternoon and spent the evening throwing the frisbee bright orange against the green hillsides. Inside the ger we were welcome to all the Mongolian dairy products we could eat while the herders were out bringing the animals back in. These people are still living the traditional Mongolian lifestyle, living off their herds and moving their home three or four times a year. With the goats and sheep bleating outside we read our books under the solar powered bulb. And when it was time to sleep, afraid I'd be too cold as usual, the man of the house covered me in his deel (the long, heavy traditional robe Mongolians wear) and tucked it under my body. I slept poorly in my jeans and woke up every time the dogs picked fights with each other in the night.
 The next day, we hiked and walked down the hillside in pine tree woods where the grass was thick and heavy with wildflowers. In the afternoon we prepared for the boy's haircutting ceremony. On the table with the candy dish were dried fruits, bowls of milk tea, and of course, bottles of vodka. I knew the rest of the day would be a rough one. So it was.
 We passed the scissors and cut hair. The boy ran around in his deel, king of the castle, receiving a gift with each cut lock of hair. The man passed the vodka shots and we drank the customary three drinks. We sang. And when it was your turn to sing, you drank. For a bit, it seemed things would stay in hand. The man had a lot to say. He talked about religion. My Mongolian is good enough to know that he was talking about roads and religion and that it didn't matter to him what religion anyone practiced. My friend, whose Mongolian is very strong, explained the man was saying that he's Buddhist, but it didn't matter if we were Christian or Muslim or anything else, because all religions are just different roads to the same destination. We agreed and I loved that. It makes me sad to think about home.. So many people in America think they have things exactly right, are terrified to share the beautiful lives and ideas of other people.
 Soon we left the ger with the frisbee to avoid the circling vodka cup, although they continued adamantly to call us back in to have just one more. My stomach was a mess, now full of yogurt, soup, and vodka, and I lay down on the felt mat to nurse it just in time for Nyamtseveen to tell me that we must go visit another of my students who lived nearby. Since I couldn't say no, I struggled up, joined the driver, Nyamtseveen, an old man, and a child in the rattletrap car. I struggled, successfully in the end, to keep my stomach and head together. I told Nyamtseveen that she must tell the people in the next house that I would not eat, no vodka, and that I could have only a little milk tea.
 The thing I'm still at odds with in this country is that after explaining to the next family that I was uncomfortably full, had had too much vodka, and was on the verge of being sick, they still made me eat and drink. It's not ok to eat and drink on your own terms here. Had I not had a bit to eat, or touched the vodka to my lips, they would have been very much insulted by me. I had a similar problem at yet another student's place on the way to where we were staying. We stopped for tea and she asked if I would stay with her family instead of going with my friends as I had planned. I explained why I would not stay there and told her I was sorry. "Sorry, bish," she said back. Not translated literally, "Sorry, my ass."
 People are hard to please, and I occasionally end up offending someone. I represented well in this case, though. I ate a little, touched the rank vodka to my lips, played volleyball, and lost a game of chess to the father. He had an amazing scar that divided his face in two from top to bottom, like puzzle pieces not quite jointed to fit one another. Later, Nyamtseveen told me that while repairing a car four years ago, an axe caught him in the face. Clearly this makes no sense, but it was the only explanation I got. My stomach was finally settling when we got in the car. Back in the home ger I positioned myself on the floor and didn't get up until morning.
 At ten our bags were in the trunk with the meat from the sheep they slaughtered the previous afternoon. Half way home on the washboarded road, we got a flat. All of the bags, meat, and milk had to come out and we piled them on the roadside. We watched the driver spend an hour swapping out the tire's innertube, rather than changing the tire, and knowing that a question would neither be answered, nor speed things along, we sat on our bags and gathered the dust of passing cars. Minutes down the road, the tire blew again, and we unloaded and again sat without a word next to a dry riverbed. Soon a car joined us, gave us their spare, and we traveled together down the road. I was in the new car which, after a few short kilometers, blew one of it's own tires. After more tire swapping, and an innertube repair, we got back on the road and made town by evening. I hoisted my bags out of the trunk one more time and walked home in my coat of dust.dylanhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-41568285156790668112007-06-22T22:08:00.000-07:002007-06-22T22:10:18.235-07:00Days are long now, the way they were when I arrived in Mongolia a year ago. The sun rises early and challenges me to stay in bed. For a few hours I struggle to stay asleep in the red room behind my eyelids. Days are long and not much to do with them. I stand on my balcony next to the remains of my woodpile. Enough wood there to remind me of the lingering cold that left snow on the mountains just a few nights ago and the cold that will sneak back in just a few months.
 A year ago, I'd look down from the balcony and everything that happened below me in the courtyard was a puzzle. Now I count on the daily arrival of the donkeycart trash man and the nonsense he shouts through his bullhorn. The women in their summer house clothes – the rubber slippers, sweatpants pulled up high on their stomachs, and wornout tank tops – trailing out the apartment entrances with buckets of toilet paper and plastic bags full of potato peels and candy wrappers. Every morning the milkladies squatting on their heels next to dented metal containers and shouting their cadence up into the windows, "Soo avaarai, soo avaarai, soo avaarai." Buy milk, buy milk, buy milk. A few of the same women join them and buy their milk by the liter, filling their own metal containers or empty beer and pop bottles
 Last week, hanging out at my place with L, she sat up and asked me if I smelled burning hair. I did, and she ran around my house checking my outlets, my electric stovetop, and ended up on the balcony. Below, a man hunched over the severed head of a goat, blow torching it for the thin strips of meat that lay beneath the scorched skin. This was enough to look at for a moment, curse the smell, and return to what we were doing.
 That's what I do now. Notice the strange and return to what I was doing. Notice the drunk passed out in the middle of the market, keep walking to school. Notice a dead wolf strapped to the hood of a truck, go buy my vegetables. Notice a group of donkeys trotting down main street, back to Walt Whitman. Third flat tire in an hour, return to my patch of singed grass. I'm not surprised anymore, because when you're at home, very little surprising happens.
 It's taken a while, but I'm home here. This dumpy Soviet apartment of the chipped paint and right angles. The condiments piled on the window sill. The underwear drying on the radiator. The hissing, leaky toilet and the furious bees trapped between the doubled window panes.dylanhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-87314478575456418752007-02-11T23:20:00.000-08:002007-02-11T23:17:55.999-08:00My school was on break during January, so when most of my sitemates were headed into the city en route to SE Asia, I decided to join them and to visit my friend Luke at his work site in the Gobi Desert. Since the business was for pleasure, there was no free plane ticket on Peace Corps's dime. It would all have to be local transportation at my expense. These "pleasure" trips are something I now realize I won't do more than a couple times a year.
 Luke's site is a seven hour bus ride away from UB on relatively smooth roads and paths. Even so, the trip to his place was not a treat. We drew two of the worst seats on the bus. We sat in the middle of the long bench in front that faces the back of the bus. On these trips you find yourself getting mighty cozy with the people you're sitting next to. I didn't mind Luke's arm around my shoulder for most of the drive and when I needed to lean forward, his knee was the perfect place to rest my hand. I didn't feel the man-love coming from the old guy on my right. He was fat, not like a water balloon, but like a sandbag. He sat there in all his meatiness with his legs spread and his arms piled on top of his spherical paunch. The whole time crushing me against a metal rail on one side and Luke on the other.
 Seems that having a person in the car to complain to makes these trips infinitely more tolerable. Saying "this sucks", and being understood is a relief. Hearing "I'm miserable, too", brings comfort. When there's no one to bellyache to, and no one to share your discomfort, things suddenly become far less tolerable. A few days later, I left Luke's and soon made the trip back out west to my work site. This time I was the only American in the car. Among the many awful things about this trip, the worst was that there was no one to tell how awful I felt, where I hurt, or how crazy I was going.
 The first night they let me sit up front for a few hours because when they asked if I was cold I said, "Yes, I'm cold. My feet are freezing." It's something I've learned to say well in Mongolian. I felt awkward taking the warmest seat in the car, but figured I deserved it for a little while. The driver told me our car would leave the black market in UB at 3 o'clock, so that's when I went to meet him. At 8 o'clock, when we actually left, my feet were already frozen through my fur-lined Mongolian boots and two pairs of socks.
 While I waited restlessly those several hours for the car to move I also watched the driver's passenger tally rise from the agreed upon ten, to eighteen by the time we left the city. The car we were in was a Russian microbus, the most common form of countryside transportation in Mongolia. It looks a lot like a cargo van, but perches up higher on it's wheels. In the backseat I sat with four other adults and a child who often laid across us. On the middle seats, which face each other, were four adults apiece and one more kid. In the posh front seat were the driver, his wife (replaced by me for the last few hours of the first night), and his kid.
 When the car finally moved and I thought we were beginning the long journey back west, we proceeded to run around one of UB's ger districts for two hours doing mysterious errands. People were picked up and dropped off, goods were exchanged, goodbyes were said. This is all in the normal course of things, I know. These folks probably get into the city only once or twice a year and there are lots of things to be done, but I couldn't step outside my American perspective on this one – If you have something to do, do it, but not on my time. I'm cold and tired and if we stop at one more ger I'm gonna shout at someone.– At around 10 we finally got on the road and I slept fitfully until we made our first food stop a few hours later.
 We got out of the car circus-clown style, one after another for minutes until the last cramped legs hit the ground. The drivers mostly stop at the same places, so the little restaurants are open all hours of the night. I can handle most Mongolian food pretty well, but road food it is not. You have your choice of meat, lots of it, cooked this or that way, with more or less fat, and rice and pickles on the side. The food's heavy enough to put me to sleep, but soon I start filling with a malodorous gas, and that is not delightful, not good for anyone.
 I woke up the first morning, warm in the front seat. We stopped on the path for a bathroom break. Men just find a spot and take care of business. (As a side note, that goes for anytime. It's not uncommon for me to look out my window and see a guy peeing on the corner of the next building. Broad daylight, people walking by.) Women use their long coats or dells to cover themselves up. When everyone was through, I took my place in the back again and we jockeyed against each other for position. It's not a competition. We're all on the same team. Everyone's trying to give each other a little space here, a place to lean there. But, no one ends up happy or comfortable. No matter how uncomfortable, it was always a good moment when the car started moving again.
 That's the rest of the trip. Sleep, food, bathroom, stop for a girl to puke, and repeat until your soul is ground to a fine, grey powder. Forty hours after I got into the car at the black market in UB, I got out in front of my apartment. I b-lined up the stairs, put down my bags, undressed, got in my sleeping bag and put on a movie. I didn't move for hours. I knew the drive was rough on me when I nearly started crying repeatedly while watching Grey's Anatomy. I couldn't bear watching people cling to life. And all I wanted was for Dr. Grey and Dr. McDreamy to get together dammit and stop playing with my emotions. Finally, I slept for hours with the feeling that I was moving slowly down a washboarded path crushed against strangers.dylanhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-1170749425984652072007-02-05T23:42:00.000-08:002007-02-06T00:10:25.996-08:00I need two hands and a foot to count the number of years it's been since I've gone sledding. It was the thing to do in winter, really the only thing to do, growing up in rural Iowa. All the kids from the neighborhood, around ten of us, would gather on the street in our garish, reflective snow suits, boots, facemasks. And when we were all accounted for, ten neon astronauts would plod across town to Cemetery Hill, each one dragging their sled behind them on a string -- there were the generic, red plastic two seaters, dented metal saucers, runners that had been used by parents, the toboggan, and for the daring, ill-conceived snowboards with no feet holders.

Cemetery Hill is the only decent hill in Dows. From the top, I could view most of the small town and miles of snow covered farm land out to the interstate. I can't imagine how we spent so many hours going up and down that hill. What I recall as a blistering dash down the slope, with the skin of my face pulled tightly back and a cloud of snow rising behind me, could really only have been a five second scrape down the bunniest of bunny hills, and that with a running start.

My friends and I in Mongolia met in exactly the same way the neighborhood kids used to meet. When the sixth swaddled one of us came through my door we headed out on our journey to the sledding hill. It's a few miles out there. The river, steaming in the cold, was surprisingly not frozen at points. Many people haul their water from the river, so places where they've broken through, but left alone for a while, are covered by only a thin bandage of ice. Jess and Kelsey both busted through and got their feet wet the first time we went out. And David, who lived his whole life in L.A. and is experiencing his first winters in Mongolia, shuffled across the river, frozen with each creak and crack of the ice.

After the river, there's a short scramble up a hillside, then a walk to the spot where the sled guy's place is. As far as I know, there's only one kind of sled in Mongolia. It's welded out of pipes and scrap metal with a piece of wood wired to the top. It's puzzling to behold, uncomfortable to sit on, but seemingly sturdy. Dragging these junkyard contraptions up the mountain was itself a trial. Despite the cold, by the time we reached the top we were sweating through our first couple layers of clothes.

Sledding in Mongolia approaches the way I recall sledding back home as a kid. The hill in Dows was called Cemetery Hill because it was next to the cemetery, but the name makes more sense for our hill out here, where I feared for my life and the lives of my friends each time a sled was set in motion. It's as if the realistic dangers of going out on the hill have been scaled up to fit the way I perceived the dangers as a kid. I don't believe I could have hurt myself sledding in Dows, but then the hill was towering and it seemed probable that I'd go home bleeding or with a broken set of teeth, something to make my mom ban me from ever dragging another sled out of the garage.

On Cemetary Hill Mongolia, there's no way to clear all the boulders off the mountain and there's enough snow to hide a significant number of them. There's no one to yell at the kids to get out of the way. No one to tell you to stop being stupid and to sled from where you are. You can just keep going up, and so it's immensely fun. Some of the most fun I've had in years. Each afternoon we've gone up we've only had enough time for 3 or 4 trips up and down. The cold and climbing make it difficult to do more. I haven't bled, but the first time we went I broke my sunglasses and cell phone, tore my coat, and cracked the sled I was on. Never before have I destroyed so many things and been so happy about it.

At around six o'clock, with the sun tucked behind a mountain, it starts getting cold. The trip home is much less arduous than the trip up. There are Mongolian kids to follow, and unlike us, they know exactly where to cross the branches of the river. No one gets wet and we get home fast. At my apartment, none of our moms are there, but one of them sent us hot chocolate, and there's no dryer, but my radiators are usually warm enough to heat up coats and socks. With a fire lit in the stove, a pirated movie bought in UB, and glass of cocoa each we settle in front of the laptop the way would have in front of the Nintendo and space heater back in Dows.dylanhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-1164771787880889422006-11-28T19:32:00.000-08:002006-11-28T19:43:07.896-08:00On my birthday I woke up to a familiar noise. The snow shovel scraping on the frozen ground made me forget where I was. It wasn't my dad shoveling out a Pontiac station wagon, but a Mongolian clearing the way for a Russian jeep. It was a strange time to forget that I'm in Mongolia, because only recently, I think, I've settled on the idea that I'm home here. With that settling has come a slow downward swing in my mood.
The euphoria of the first few months in country has slowly worn off as my work and daily life has become more routine. This is a common feeling when living abroad. I've been told that my mood will vary from religious-experience highs to huddled-up-in-sleeping-bag lows. The problem at the moment is understanding when I'm experiencing a huddled-up-in-sleeping-bag low, and when I'm huddled in my sleeping bag simply because I can't bear to stand in my freezing apartment. I guess one is a subset of the other.
Of course, I use the word "routine" loosely. I can still count on jarring cultural moments. For instance, the Russian teacher at my school recently interrupted my class to ask if I would write an English composition for his sister who was preparing for an English competition. After several minutes he couldn't understand why I wouldn't be party to cheating, and why I wouldn't do two hours worth of cheating on one hour's notice. Also, when a drunk man steals my mitten from off my hand in the middle of a cold night, I tend to stop putting my life in the context of a "routine". At least I was close to home.

We recently celebrated Thanksgiving. We all invited Mongolians from our work to join us. We were puzzled as, slowly, many of the Mongolians we had invited cancelled on us. Our attendance dwindled from an expected 14 to 11. The six Peace Corps volunteers, two German volunteers, and three Mongolian work counterparts. We were puzzled until we remembered that it was Mongolia's independence day. Celebrating an American holiday on a Mongolian holiday scores a 3 out of 10 on cultural sensitivity if you are keeping track. A 1 out of 10 is telling a Mongolian that you prefer ancient Rome to the Empire of Genghis Khan, and then adding that you think milk and mutton suck.
Despite the cultural blunder, the meal was nice and enjoyed by all. We had to explain that while we ate the "traditional amount" of food, the "traditional type" of food was difficult to prepare in these parts. We had one box of stuffing my parents sent from America and mashed potatoes, but from there, the menu became somewhat eclectic. A nice chili was present, a meat and potatoes dish, tuna salad, egg casserole, and an unexpected pineapple souffle.
The only turkey in Mongolia was at the U.S. Embassy in Ulaanbaatar, and I wasn't lucky enough to attend that party, though many volunteers were. I began considering our poultry options. There seemed to be two. Once I heard a chicken in town. I thought about tracking it down, but then remembered that, in Mongolia, if it looks like a chicken, and sounds like a chicken, it's probably something else. I rested my Thanksgiving dreams on the flapping wings of the nightmare crows that shriek here in great numbers. I planned to crouch on the balcony with my axe until one of them landed on my woodpile, when we would pit, once and for all, axe against talon, for Thanksgiving glory. Then I heard there would be mashed potatoes and decided that would be enough.dylanhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-1162435655495733112006-11-01T18:42:00.000-08:002006-11-01T18:47:35.516-08:00Am I Not a Man? Can I Not Clean My Own House?

 Any minute two of my students will knock at my door. They are coming to clean my house and I am terrified. I spent the past 45 minutes feverishly cleaning up my place trying to make it look like I hadn't cleaned anything. It was ridiculous. I moved most of the clothes, books, and miscellany from the extra bed, but left a few school books and a teacup to maintain the illusion that I hadn't cleaned. I didn't sweep the floor, except in Mama's (my cat) room, because she has made the entire entryway her litterbox. I finally unpacked all of the packages that I had gotten from the states in the past month. They'll still have enough work to make an evening of it.
 I don't know how this happened. My school director visits my house often, and during one of her visits I was explaining to her that this is the way the average young man lives in America. There is a system in the madness. I know that my cell phone is under the stocking hat, that the guitar pick is somewhere near the incense, and my coffee cup is behind the bag of sugar. She either didn't buy any of this, or didn't like the idea of it and began insisting that some of our students come clean my house for me. Eventually I agreed and here I am, sitting on the bed ashamed of myself.
 I'm pleased now that it's done. They did an incredible job. They seemed to have a good time doing it. The way I live is hilarious to them. They would burst out laughing, then call me into the room where they were working. "Do you need this?" A can of tomato paste and a jar of blueberry jam, both topped with a thick layer of mold. "No, I don't need them anymore." This followed by another bout of laughter.
 They became less amused when they got to my bed. I sleep with my bed against the stove wall, which gets hot after the fire's been lit for a while. Lately I've been making such blazing fires that one evening, the wall charred the parts of my blanket that were touching it. "Don't worry. There was no fire, only smoke." They shook their heads in what I think was dismay.
 I can't think of a relationship I've had in the past that compares with the relationship I have with my students. I'm their teacher and they treat me with a lot of respect, but, as above, I'm a careless foreigner who doesn't seem to be able to care for himself. So, I'm like their little baby boy. I was sick and tired last week, and one of the other volunteer said she heard my students discussing my well-being at length.
 It's so strange and fantastic. We communicate nothing complicated with one another, because neither of us can communicate complex thoughts in the other's language. Yet, these girls and women are the some of the most important people in my life right now. Without them reminding me to wear my warm clothes, I would be walking around Mongolia wondering why I am so cold. If they weren't willing to share their impressive housekeeping skills, I'd be sleeping on piles of books and using a shoe box as a dining table.

Excuse Me Jesus, Do You Have a Cigar?

 I had no idea my students would get so excited about Halloween. I first mentioned to them that all of the Peace Corps volunteers in town would be going out to the club in costume on the Friday after the holiday. We told them they should all come with us to celebrate and they agreed. Sometime after this they learned about "trick or treating" and the Halloween madness began.
 I invited them to come to my house for candy and I got a few of the other volunteers to do the same. I had no idea what ridiculous heights trick or treating would reach. It was our intention to treat them with the best candies Mongolia could offer, but they had treats sweeter than Russian cookies in store for us. For each of our houses they had prepared a separate, vaguely Halloween related drama.
 At my house, Harry Potter and his friends conjured ghosts by candlelight. Elvis Presley sang a popular Mongolian song. Charlie Chaplin didn't say anything, of course, but he gave a very elegant bow to all of the guests in my house before he left. When Hitler came, Harry Potter and his friends stood at attention. Hitler was more polite than I imagined. "Guttentag. Thank you for inviting me to your Halloween party."
 At David's house we had a dance party with the witches and the ghosts. Dance pairs included an Arabian Shah and Harry Potter, Jesus and Hitler, and Snow White and a dwarf. At Jenny's, a creepy witch drugged Snow White with "special candy". This play ended abruptly, with Snow White passed out and the witch delivering a cryptic message. "Now you will only be mine."
 We sat in on a surreal passion play at Jess's house. Jesus was crucified against the wall of Jess's ger. His wife and mother were with him. Soon an Arabian Shah entered.
 "Jesus, give me one hundred wives," he demanded.
 "I'm sorry, I only have two wives," Jesus replied as his mother offered him a drink of water.
 Next, a pirate took the stage.
 "Jesus, do you have a cigar?" asked the pirate.
 "No, you should go to Thomas's house. Ask him how much they cost and come back here," said Jesus.
 This is an inside joke. Thomas is a German who lives in town. Apparently it is widely known that he smokes large cigars.
 Finally a witch approached Jesus.
 "There are many cars and motorcycles that are faster than my broomstick. Jesus, can you attach my broomstick to the electricity to make it faster?" she wondered.
 "I'm sorry," replied Jesus, "the electricity won't be back on until 8 p.m."
 This is another inside joke. The electricity here is awful. It goes on and off at new and exciting times everyday. Not even Jesus can fix it.
 They had me in tears and I can't imagine ever having a better Halloween than this. Halloween is a good time at home, but I don't recall a fraction of the excitement that last night carried with it. My students only got a small handful of candy the whole evening. Children in America would cry tears of rage if this were the case for them and that is unacceptable. Furthermore, I don't believe I will ever again see Hitler walking next to a ghost, or Jesus on the arm of a clown. When I get home, "Trick or Treat", is not going to cut it. I demand entertainment and you should, too.
 Oh, you're Superman? How cute. But if you want candy, you better come back with a telephone booth and a change of clothes.dylanhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-1160462152192674402006-10-09T23:25:00.000-07:002006-10-09T23:35:52.206-07:00Last week we had our first snowfall. I walked to the sports gym at the Economics College in a dust storm. When it hasn't rained, the wind picks up sand and carries it to places such as my ear canals and window sills. There is always enough dust in the air to make the insides of my shirt collars filthy no matter how hard I scrub the back of my neck. I would have stayed inside, but my school was having a sports day for the students, so I had to face the dust.
 Sports with Mongolians has been a strange and sometimes terrifying experience. Each game is played essentially the same way we would play it back home, but with the added element of fisticuffs. On our sports day, we split up into three teams: first course students, second course students, and teachers. All of my students are girls. Very docile and shy in the classroom, but furious maniacs in competition. In one game I was punched in the face no less than twice, once a forearm across the nose and mouth that my nose is still tender from. After yoga class the day before our sports competition, one student told me to "prepare for bump", while shaking her little fist at me. In a certain way she was kidding, but I attempted to prepare myself for the many bumps I did in fact take.
 On my team, I was the only one who knew how to play basketball, so I had to take the ball up the court every time, and every time I encountered a circus of hands that, after pushing me aside, would steal the ball and take it down to their end of the court. A game of basketball with no fouls is a different game entirely, and not one that I'm any good at. We lost all our games, but I felt fortunate to have finished without a getting a bump that resulted in a concussion or falling on the uneven floorboards.
 When we went back outside, the wind had died and the dust storm had turned into a light mist. The mountains were dusted with snow and the students were all excited and talked about how beautiful it was. I agreed. So, it's the start of a long winter. It warms up to around 60 in the afternoons some days, but as soon as the sun goes down at 7:30, it drops down below freezing.
Today I walked across the river and the slow moving streams were frozen over.
 Every Sunday my director, Seeligma, feeds me lunch and gives me a Mongolian lesson. Afterward I always play her son, Otgonbayar, in chess. He's thirteen and up on me two games to one. It was a wash this afternoon. He beat me up and down the chessboard, playing little tricks on me, but he's really sweet about kicking my ass. He has sleepy eyes and I want him to be my friend.
 After lunch at Seeligma's, I was invited to Pujee's, one of my students, for an early dinner. She made buuz (pronounced "boats"), a steamed dumpling which Mongolians eat on a very regular basis, with horse meat. They were delicious, but she wouldn't let me stop eating them and I was uncomfortable by the end of the session. After we ate, she asked if I wanted a beer, and I told her I was O.K., that I didn't need one right then, so she sent her husband out to buy a couple.
 At five, I told Pujee that I needed to leave to clean my house. She seemed genuinely disappointed when I wouldn't let her clean it for me. I got a similar reaction from two of my other students who offered to clean my house and wash my clothes. I feel slightly uncomfortable even fielding the question and I can't seem to explain myself to their satisfaction. It doesn't work to tell them that I'm a grown man, and despite the fact that I'm clearly a slob, that I can do housework on my own. They've been doing these things since they were little girls, and, to my understanding, it would be their honor to help me out. Neither of us seem to know how to react when I can't allow them the honor.
 My students and co-teachers are my best Mongolian friends. Whenever I've needed something, they are the ones who've helped me. When I meet them in the market, they always follow me around, telling me where I can buy certain things. When I don't know how to get somewhere, they come pick me up at my apartment and show me the way. I told them how much I love Mongolian yogurt, and the next day, a student brought me a jarful. I was looking for a kitten, and soon one of my co-teachers brought one to me. They are the sweetest folks. In light of this pattern, it might be smart to mention how I don't like being pummeled across the basketball court.dylanhttp://email@example.com:blogger.com,1999:blog-28765567.post-1157359602140790232006-09-04T01:40:00.000-07:002006-09-04T01:46:42.153-07:00When I wake up here in the morning it is because the sun is blasting me in the eyes. On the mornings I don't have to be up early I fight back the red of my eyelids by curling into myself or by shrouding my face in a blanket, but the sun seems to soak into these places, too, and I sit up. A morning shower is out of the question since the water in my apartment runs frigid. All I can muster at this point is a few splashes on the face and a bit through my hair. When this wretched task is through, I move on to preparing my cream of wheat, toast, and tea, a much warmer and more pleasant task. I waste no time getting dressed. The steam heat isn't on yet and the cement walls pull in the already brisk morning air.
 My work is a fifteen minute walk through the market from my house. Later it will be an eight minute, bone-rattling jog. I am working for a small branch of Orkhon University, which is based in Ulaanbaatar. Before you imagine me on campus of any university you've attended, let me tell you that the entire school is two classrooms full of wobbly desks and difficult chairs, and so far no electricity. On the first day I had ten students. A few days before work started, my boss told me that my main teaching counterpart wouldn't be returning to work this year and that we would have to hire a new teacher in the two days before school started. This gave me the feeling that I would be teaching all of the English classes to start off the year, but in one afternoon, all interviews were complete and my supervisor had hired one full-time and one part-time English teacher. Both are excited to work with me and both seem to be motivated teachers.
 This is a lucky placement and one I couldn't be happier about. Orkhon University is largely a language school, and my students are working to become language teachers or translators in the best case. Though I will have few students, they will all be motivated learners. From what I've heard, this is not necessary true of students at non-language focused schools or secondary schools. I will be team teaching one or two classes each morning and will be spending the rest of the morning observing and advising the other teachers and giving private English lessons. For now, the afternoons are mine, but eventually I'll use this time to develop community projects.
We got here a week before work started. We spent most of the week consulting our co-workers and the volunteers who were already here about where to go to outfit our homes. Everything is a wild-goose chase. Axes are in the hardware store, which is across from the electronics when you first enter the market. The boots you want are in the back of the second floor of the big clothes building. The second fruit stand has green peppers again today, but they will probably be gone tomorrow. If you like milk, it is cheapest at the vodka and beer store. The nature of this means that, for now, I buy only the things I am in search of, only the things I need. When I need a container of Korean raman, I don't also buy five cans of Campbell's Southwestern Chicken and Rice Soup. I come back home with a bag of items I will use fully and very soon.
 Of the six volunteers here, I am the lone apartment dweller. Four people live in gers and one lives in a small duplex house. Living in an apartment affords me my usual standard of slobbishness. I've been home for over a week, but many of my things remain packed in the bags they arrived here in. For several days, despite the fact that I had guests often, my belt and jump-rope sat tangled together in the middle of my living room floor. Two piles of unfolded clothes lay on the extra bed, the clean distinguishable from the dirty only by leaning in and taking a sniff. It's so cold in here that the food I accidentally leave out takes twice as long to rot and stink, and thus, is usually saved.
 Though my inner surroundings are little to look at, they don't reflect the beauty of the scenery just outside my door. The town sits in the bottom of a bowl of mountains. I can see no further than a few kilometers in any direction from within the city. The mountains are mostly rugged and dotted with large boulders. They are occasionally wooded and in a few places smooth, sheer faces drop from the mountain's peak to the ground. The city teems with a population of lumbering dogs. The shady side of every building is occupied by at least one of these massive hounds. So far I've met the two-fold challenge of feigning confidence and not wetting myself when they approach.
 Having grown up in Iowa, where the only things that obstruct your view of the plain are barns, grain bins, the corn when it's high, and a rare, subtle hill, I find it confusing to have such a short sight of what's around me. This is an indicative physical reminder of my situation at large. Just as living in Mongolia puts me in limited contact with my own culture and the events of the world and forces me to look closely at only the people and happenings that occur immediately near me, the mountains that cloister me in force me to look at and examine only them. And for now, that's best for me and comforting. Future hikes up the mountains will afford me the longview I will eventually need. For now, there's plenty to take in in the valley.dylanhttp://firstname.lastname@example.com


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The Chaoyang hospital in central Beijing is an unlikely place to seek cutting-edge treatment. Orderlies in the shabby five-story building pile surplus furniture in the crowded hallways and push patients around on jerry-rigged gurneys made with bicycle wheels. Yet Nan Davis has traveled halfway around the globe to undergo a new procedure available only here. Six hours ago, Dr. Huang Hongyun injected 1.5 million fetal cells into her damaged spinal cord. Davis, a teacher from Ohio, hasn't walked since 1978 after a car crash left her paralyzed from the bottom of her rib cage down. Shortly after she awakens, Davis signals...

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 20/8/2014 (1065 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.
Mother Nature is playing tricks with Westman producers keen to get in — and stay in — the fields this harvest.
Scott Mowbray, who farms near Cartwright, said he's about halfway through cutting winter wheat, but a short-term forecast of rain for several days could mean the machinery stays in the shop for a while.
"If the forecast holds, it could be late next week before we're back in the fields," Mowbray said Wednesday. "Then you start getting a little concerned about losing quality."
Mowbray had just returned from checking the moisture levels in his winter wheat crop — a measurement that came up 22 per cent, well above the industry standard of 14.5 for safe storage.
"It's still too tough," he said. "There's no chance of it going today."
While it has been hot for several weeks, Mowbray said the conditions haven't been ideal to dry grains.
"You really need all three to get everything to dry properly —you need heat, low humidity and wind," Mowbray said. "It seems like the last two weeks, we've been able to get one of three, and occasionally two, but never all three."
The rain won't help the harvest cause, either.
Environment Canada issued a severe thunderstorm watch for most of southwestern Manitoba, with forecasters expecting two waves of storms to track through yesterday afternoon.
Mowbray thought most of the rain would track northeast of Cartwright, but before the interview ended, it had began drizzling at his farm house.
"I'm trying not to watch the radar, but at the same time you can't avoid it," he said.
The last number of years producers have been caught by wet weather at harvest, he said.
He remembers many years when winter wheat was off by the beginning of August or by the long weekend at the latest.
As for the long-term forecast, the Farmer's Almanac is predicting several cool, wet spells through the months of September and October on the Prairies.
Mowbray's farm isn't set up with any crop-drying equipment and he said it's a technique that isn't used much in the area due to what is usually good harvest weather. He said crop drying is more reserved for areas of the northern Prairies or in southeastern Manitoba, where a lot of corn is grown.
While some producers had trouble moving grain this year, and in some cases still have grain in the bins, Mowbray said they found other avenues to market their grain and canola.
He took several loads of canola to a crusher in Hallock, Minn., which is less than three hours away from Cartwright. And he moved grain south to Langdon, N.D., which is even closer.
According to the provincial Crop Report issued earlier this week, disease is high in areas south of the Trans-Canada due to high moisture levels.
"Winter wheat harvest began in some areas of the region; quality and yields are poor. Fusarium damaged kernel levels are ranging from five to 20 per cent, and test weight is low."
» email@example.com
» Twitter: @CharlesTweed


text:
Belgian Foreign Minister Karel De Gucht also asked his Rwandan counterpart to return priest Guy Theunis to Belgium.
Father Theunis, 60, denies reproducing articles inciting killings, in a Rwandan magazine he once edited.
He was referred by a Rwandan village court for trial at a conventional court that could hand down the death penalty.
Human rights groups have expressed concern at the trial, saying there is not enough evidence to support the charges against the priest.
Under the proposal, a Belgian judge would investigate the charges against Father Theunis and decide whether or not to prosecute.
"At first glance, we can't find any damning facts in the case and we had a proper look," Mr de Gucht was quoted as telling Belgian radio.
Rwanda's Foreign Minister Charles Murigande said he would consider the request.
"We will need some guarantees on how the process is carried out," he said.
Airport arrest
Earlier this month, Father Theunis became the first foreigner to go before one of the "gacaca" courts set up to help investigate the genocide in which 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus died.
He was accused of inciting Rwandans to commit genocide by republishing articles from an extremist publication, Kangura, in his Dialogue magazine.
He told the court in the Rugenge area: "I am astonished to hear all these allegations levelled against me. I sometimes wrote articles to press for human rights.
"I never republished articles from Kangura, but just translated as part of a press review."
Father Theunis was detained at the airport in Rwanda's capital, Kigali, on 6 September while on his way home to South Africa from the Democratic Republic of Congo.
He worked as a missionary in Rwanda, a former Belgian colony, from 1970 until 1994.


text:
We produce a number of student workbooks each year to help teachers prepare students for their attendance at a dress rehearsal. Some general workbook content is available below:
Cinderella Curriculum Guide
George Balanchine's The Nutcracker®
The Nutcracker Curriculum Guide
Le Corsaire
Le Corsaire Curriculum Guide
Re/Action Curriculum Guide
Teach your students or children the full history from our History of Ballet workbook.
The History of Ballet
Adagio, bouree, pas de deux—all common ballet terms fundamental to the art of ballet. To build a richer ballet experience for you children of students we encourage you to use our Glossary of Ballet Terms workbook.
Glossary of Ballet Terms
Artists spend their entire lives developing their creativity and talent and exploring interesting and compelling ways to express their thoughts and feelings. Athletes spend their lives perfecting the technique of their particular sport and training their bodies to perform at the highest possible level. Rising to the level of a "professional" as either an artist or an athlete is something that is accomplished by a small number of people. A professional ballet dancer, however, manages to do both.
The questions and answers in our the workbooks below will give you some insights into the life of a professional ballet dancer and the training and dedication required of these very special artists/athletes.
A Dancer's Day
A Dancer's Life Q&A
The Five Positions of Classical Ballet
What Dancers Wear
Recommended for Grades 2-6


text:
I heard a rumor that Microsoft will no longer offer support on any version of Windows other that XP, which means no updates. These programs will just die out. Is this true?
In accordance with their "Product Support Lifecycle", MS discontinued support for Windows 98 on July 1, 2003. On January 16, 2004 Win 98 will be considered obsolete.
As for Win ME, "mainstream support" will end December 31, 2003, but there'll still be a two year "extended support phase", followed by at least one year of "Online self-help support".
What does that mean?
Mainstream support means support from real people and hotfixes.
Extended support means you can pay to get help from a real person while security-related hotfix support will continue at no charge. Non-security related hotfix support will cost you. Forget about warranty support, design changes, or new features.
Self-help online support means that the online Knowledge Base articles, FAQs, troubleshooting tools, and other resources will stay on the website.
You will be assimilated into XP—resistance is futile!
~ David


text: On Dec 8, 2009, at 6:45 AM, Kris Moore wrote: > > On Mon, 7 Dec 2009, Josh Paetzel wrote: > >> I installed the x64 version in VMWare Fusion. >> >> Had the following three issues: >> >> The only installation method that would work was Use Entire Disk, which then proceeded to create s1 and use that instead of partitioning the raw device. Attempting to install to a slice failed. >> > > Josh, Can you try this again, and look at the log file after it fails? > >> After I installed the system failed to boot, dumping me at the mountroot prompt. Giving it the proper root device kicked it enough to boot >> > > Check /dev/label/*, did a rootfs0 label get created for your root device? > If not, do you know of any reason a label would dissapear even though > "glabel label rootfs /dev/ad0s1a" returns success? > >> There was a syntax error in rc.conf that stopped the system from going to multiuser. >> >> ifconfig_Intel(R)="DHCP" > > I think I know where this is coming from, can you try this? Boot in vmware, > and open xterm when you get to the installer. Then run: > > /PCBSD/pc-sysinstall/pc-sysinstall detect-nics > > What does that return? I'm guessing there is some error in the output > em0: <Intel (R) PRO/1000 Network Connection 6.9.14> I redid the installation, this time the label for rootfs0 was fine. Still had the syntax error in rc.conf though with the weird ifconfig line. I also confirmed the problem with installing to a slice. That seems to bomb out too. Picking the use entire disk option does slice the disk though, instead of partitioning the drive directly. So I end up with what I want, da0s1a, even though it seems a bit mislabeled. Thanks, Josh Paetzel


text:
What's the Usefulness of CRP Testing?
Measuring C-reactive protein in the blood may -- or may not -- indicate that a person is at risk for heart disease.
WebMD Feature
Reviewed By Brunilda Nazario
By now, most of us are well-versed in the rules for keeping heart disease at bay: eat healthily, exercise, don't smoke or gain too much weight, and keep blood pressure and cholesterol levels under control. And familiarity with terms like HDL and LDL cholesterol is so common as to make for standard cocktail party chitchat.
But there's a lesser-known, relatively new player in heart-disease risk assessment called CRP, or C-reactive protein. A study in the January 2004 issue of The New England Journal of Medicine suggested that elevated levels of CRP could provide doctors with information that could ultimately prevent thousands of deaths from heart disease. But many reports have said that knowing CRP levels provides no clinical benefit whatsoever, making the whole subject a source of controversy.
The blood test for CRP indicates inflammation, which studies have shown to be critical in the development of atherosclerosis, or plaque build-up in the blood vessel walls.
According to the American Heart Association and the CDC, a CRP level of less than 1 mg per liter indicates a low risk of cardiovascular disease; 1-3 mg/L indicates moderate risk, and greater than 3 mg/L equals high risk.


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I'm unhappy with my lower cheek area, it looks too bottom heavy to me. I would like to know what options I have to make my face more feminine. I'm worried about buccal fat removal, but I feel like my upper face is too gaunt and my lower face is too full. Thanks!
Cheek Augmentation to Feminize Face? (photo)
Doctor Answers 10
Cheek Augmentation to Feminize Face?
Aesthetically speaking, from the photos provuded, your cheeks are quite flat making the face appear elongated. Cheek Augmentation with fillers (I prefer Perlane) or using Cheek IMplants for a permanent augmentation should be considered. Be certain that the plastic and cosmetic surgeon, you select, understands and follows the proper aesthetics of facial beauty for the creation of more feminine cheeks. Hope this helps.
Learn more: http://www.drfpalmer.com
Cheek augmentation to improve facial proportions
Reviewing your photos I can appreciate that your lower face seems a little stronger than the upper part. Augmenting the cheeks may help soften your face and transform the oval shape to a bit more of a heart shape.
I would start with Perlane for cheek augmentation and then consider Radiesse if more umph is needed.
On a positive note, with the strength of your chin, your neckline will always look nice and defined, and an oval shaped face is a nice place to start!
Learn more: http://www.yourfaceinourhands.com/plastic-surgery/dermafillers-cheeks.cfm
Cheek implants for more facial balance
Cheek augmentation is an outpatient procedure performed by inserting a small wafer of silastic material through the intraoral approach and directly over the maxillary bone. The implants come in different sizes, forms and shapes (such as malar and submalar) depending upon the patient's desires. Submalar implants are used for more of a lower malar augmentation while malar shell implants are used for a broad cheek augmentation. Cheek augmentation simply gives more youthfulness to the cheek area. We do not recommend buccal fat pad removal.
You might also like...
Cheek Augmentation Good Option To Feminize Face
I agree with you analysis and think that cheek augmentation will help you achieve your goals. from the one photo you provided, I think that a modest increased volume of your deficient cheeks would be of benefit to restoring a more feminine appearance. Cheek implants are permanent and predictable. Fat Grafting (fat transfer) is also permanent but less predictable. Fat grafting is done by lipoinjection but not all of the transferred fat lives. Either method can improve your appearance. You will have to weigh Fillers vs Fat Grafting or using an implant.
Pro: Fat Transfer by lipoinjection is more of a permanent solution as is use of an implant.
Con: Because the amount of fat that survives is variable you may need to do additional treatments. Further as the fat transferred behaves like fat from the donor site, if you gain a lot of weight the fat transfer will also increase with volume. Implants are foreign bodies and rarely can become infected or dislodged.
Pro: Fillers: such as Radiesse, Jeuvederm, Restylane, Perlane, Sculptra and others can give you an idea of your improvement and if you are unhappy with it, it will dissipate over time. On the other hand, if you like what you see, then you may want to go ahead with fat transfer of placement of an implant.
There is a product called Sculptra it is an injectable. It last 2-3 years, it is a very good product it repairs your own collagen and it plumps you back up in your cheek area. You should do some research on it.
Cheek Augmentration
I agree that cheek augmentation will improve facial definition and proportions. This can be achieved using fillers such as Radiesse, injections of your own fat, or the placement of implants which will provide a permanent solution.
Cheek augmentation to feminize face
It does appear from your photos that you possibly would be a candidate for cheek augmentation. This could be accomplished either surgically, with implants, or non-surgically, with injectable fillers. There are several types of fillers that could be used, such as Radiesse, Sculptra or Artefill. I would not recommend buccal fat removal, as this can have consequences later in life.
Facial feminization.
You would benefit from cheek implants and a Irregular. Trichophytic Forehead Lift with hairline lowering while raising your brows. No buccal fat removal.
Cheek Augmentation to Feminize Face? (photo)
Consider malar fillers. Short acting like Restylane or longer lasting as Radiesse ot fat grafts. Seek in person evaluations.
How to obtain a more feminine facial shape
You will want to seek out a local board certified (facial) plastic surgeon or cosmetic dermatologist to discuss your options in detail. However, based on your photos, I would consider augmentation of your upper face and cheeks with Sculptra. This will help give balance to the upper portion of the face and as your volume increases in the upper face, it will help support the heaviness that you have in your lower face. Properly done, you will have a more "heart-shaped" & feminine profile.
You did not mention your age in your profile, but you appear young, therefore I would probably recommend against buccal fat removal, or at least keep it very conservative as you will probably lose some of that fat with time.
Other treatment options include other fillers or fat transfer. These all have different risks and benefits, so discuss with your local doctor. Best wishes!
These answers are for educational purposes and should not be relied upon as a substitute for medical advice you may receive from your physician. If you have a medical emergency, please call 911. These answers do not constitute or initiate a patient/doctor relationship.


text:
According to Boycott Adobe <boycottadobe.org>, it uses silly grade-school encryption. The "DMCA" is a terrible law, it's like a "crimethink" thing from Orwell. You can't sit down at a computer and write a program that opens an encryption system without committing a felony within the US.
I don't know about you, but I would have lost many files if it weren't for a program I found on the Internet to break open my own WordPerfect 5.1 files that I used a password on =)
Anyway, there are lots of alternatives for web graphics. I am using the GIMP for most of my Gridcosm panels these days. It's different from Photoshop but once you get used to the differences it's easy to switch back and forth.


text:
Are you a Business Owner?
Set up your Private Seller Account and create your listing todayGet Started Here
Showing 1 to 1 of 1 Property franchises
Please select franchises to go in your Pick List
Whether it's construction or real estate, the property industry is among the most lucrative in the world. As the global economy settles, the market is making a slow but steady recovery, with new housing initiatives helping the construction sector, the steady increase in house prices boosting the market and an increase in the number of people renting, the future for property franchises looks bright. Did you know that a third of franchisees are already business owners?


text:
Recently Watched
Most Popular Review
I did a marathon on this drama for 2 days and it was worth it. The storyline for me was not overly done. It was just right. The acting was superb. The chemistry between the So Ji Sub and Ha Ji Won or Jo In Sung and Ha Ji Won was very good. The first few eps were so funny to me. I think Jo In Sung was soo funny in the beginning. The ending was not surprising to me. I believe any human being would feel the same way. But I am not condoning the act. These two guys are so handsome - So Ji Sub and Jo In Sung. This was the reason why I watched it. But man, So Ji Sub is soo hot, I can't take my eyes of off him. If I were Lee Soo Jung, I will not have second thoughts about marrying a guy like his character here. No wonder this drama raked 26% in 2004 and won the best actor and best actress award.
The plot was quite confusing and shallow and most of all the female lead was so annoying. I already bailed out in the middle of ep 2... Okay, I will give it a chance since I like LMH and also since the latest review said it was getting better.
I fell in love with this drama the first time I watched it. It is worth watching again. I loved the chemistry between the two. What I learned from this drama was, " Do not judge a book by its cover". Most of the time, good things come in small and simple packages, just like this guy's character here. I would fall for this simple, loving and sincere guy.


text:
Disney Cruises has delayed the relaunch of the Disney Magic cruise ship due to bad weather in Europe. The ship has been in dry dock in Cadiz, Spain getting a massive upgrade for the past five weeks and was supposed to be completed before October 20th. The ship was set
Tag: disney cruises
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text:
Find or become a
child care provider.
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Daycare Provider
A great way to find a child care provider is often through your friends.
Child Care Jobs
Find available jobs in your city.
Excellent Child Care Provider Available Starting Today!
Infancy,Toddler, & Young Children
daycare in Bradford .Pa has openings for children infant to twelve years old
Amy L. Shembeda Family Day Care Home


text:
Romeo and Juliet
Julius Caesar
Table of Contents
Plot Overview
Character List
Sanger Rainsford
General Zaroff
Themes, Motifs, and Symbols
Historical Context
The Serial Gothic Adventure
Important Quotations Explained
How to Cite This SparkNote
Readers' Notes allow users to add their own analysis and insights to our SparkNotes—and to discuss those ideas with one another. Have a novel take or think we left something out? Add a Readers' Note!
Take a Study Break!
QUIZ: Should you break up with your S.O.?
Harry Potter & the Prisoner of Azkaban as told in a series of texts
13 books that went from 0 to 100 REAL quick
QUIZ: Were you born in the wrong era?
Every book you'll have to read in English class, summed up in a single sentence
QUIZ: Is someone crushing on you?
If classic lit characters had Tumblr accounts
QUIZ: What book should you read next?
QUIZ: Is this an Adele lyric or a Les Miserables quote?


text: Weight loss is perhaps one of the biggest challenges of the modern world. Technology has made our lives so sedentary that all you need to do is lift a finger and you get what you want! However, on the other hand it is technology and innovation that give us products like Malibu Pilates, a product that can help you lose weight.People may tell you all sorts of things and suggest all sorts of complicated machinery to lose weight. Weight loss is not just about the effort it is also about strategy.Let's go step by step as we review this new kid on the block. The price is $350.00 and no it's just not for a stool with a spring step...it more than that. You get a DVD on how to use this product. The chair is foldable and can be stored easily, so it's not another thing to just shift around when you have guests visiting, you can simply fold it up and slide it out of the away. With proper use and an hour-long exercise regime, you get a dream body workout that helps you to sculpt your body. An added bonus is that you get a diet plan and a wall chart that are specific to the Malibu Pilates. In short, for people who have the will power needed to workout on their own, It can really help you to become lean and thin.Malibu Pilates is one of the finest exercise apparatus on the market today...however you have to put in some of your own sweat to see the difference, as it can't sweat for you. You need to follow the rules to play the game. The rules are simple; commit to the right diet, follow the right exercise and get the right amount of sleep. If you follow the Malibu Pilates diet and exercise regimen, the first two conditions are taken care of.Many products on the market tell you about the pounds and inches lost. Malibu Pilates makers do not say that you will definitely get these results. They are very honest about it and simply say that the results will vary. Of course, the results will vary because each person is different. The effort applied is differentMalibu Pilates really works if it is used regularly. It takes effort, willpower and stamina. Malibu Pilates is your personal coach, dietitian and gym all in one. So for an amount less than $400 you are really getting a great deal without leaving the comfort of your home. Malibu Pilates can really give you the ideal body, provided you follow the instructions and develop your willpower!There have been many great customer reviews on this product.Here you can find Malibu Pilates 50% - 60% Off:http://tvproducts4sale.com/Fitness-Products/Malibu-Pilates


text:
Decision makers
- Kage Games LLC
REMOVE this product from the market!
This is only going to Promote DOG FIGHTING rings which is Cruel & Inhumane. This needs to be removed from the market! 'The controversial virtual pet dog fighting app presented by Kage Games LLC. Raise your dog to beat the best! 'Feed, water, train and FIGHT your virtual pet dog.' - Disgusting!
- Kage Games LLC
REMOVE this product from the market!
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Benjamin M.wrote a review of Full Tilt First Chair Ski Boot - Men's on January 11, 2010
Sick boots
This is my first year not racing, an first non- race boot ever. these boots are not as stiff as race boots but still rip hard and provide a lot of support. they are the most comfortable boots i have ever put on my feet. the 3 piece design lets the boot flex in the most natural way possible because they bend in an acordian like way. dont let the old school joey look fool you, these boots are sick!


text:
The Abstract Academic And The Merry Memorialist
The title kept going on and on in my head, until the lines of the verse came back. It couldn't have been more fitting if old Sigmund himself had stepped on a banana peel:
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint and heard great argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by that same door as in I went.
—The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
The lines could as well be about Arundhati Roy's long essay, 'The Doctor and the Saint', where she seeks to demonstrate why Ambedkar, not Gandhi, was the more significant historical figure. Ms. Roy's difficulty, as that of many Jinnah aficionados, is that there exist two rather stubborn realities of public perception: 1. The appeal of any sectarian cause is bound to be smaller than that of the general, and 2. No amount of showing how clever, intelligent, urbane, or 'modern' a sectarian leader was, will change the first reality.
That Roy does not care very much for Mahatma Gandhi is no secret, as anyone reading her earlier pieces might gather. I wonder why. After all, in her articles about the state of India (and the Indian State - envigoured, ironically, by draconian provisions left at its disposal by none other than Ms. Roy's current idol), she writes eloquently on problems Gandhi had long ago pinpointed—usually without mentioning Gandhi's name other than for faint praise if not worse.
In this piece she appears to have pulled out all stops. Instead of a snide remark here or there, a sizeable portion is devoted to a healthy denunciation of Gandhi. A book length introduction to Annihilation of Caste, one of Ambedkar's booklets, it is breathless in its prose, fervid in its fulminations and at times, transparent in its desperation.
But here's the kicker. Among these tens of thousands of words applauding Ambedkar's insight and intelligence when they aren't busy running down Gandhi's duplicity and hypocrisy, Ms. Roy has been unable to find space to squeeze in a serious discussion of Gandhi's own response to this very booklet. In a preface replete with quotations from Gandhi, there is not one line from what Gandhi wrote specifically on Annihilation Of Caste (other than a couple of passing put downs, one of a suggestion that the booklet be priced lower for wider readership)! Perhaps this might help explain the roots of Ms. Roy's rage: in three short articles published in Harijan, Gandhi succinctly answers Ambedkar, and with a civility neither Ambedkar nor his New Best Friend seems able to summon. Indeed, Ambedkar includes Gandhi's comments as an appendix in his later editions, but with the marvelously neutral title, "The Vindication of Caste by Mahatma Gandhi". He then takes the opportunity to essay a rebuttal via a leisurely second appendix.
As Ms. Roy informs us, Ambedkar's Annihilation Of Caste, was originally designed as a speech to a group of anti-caste activists, the Jat-Pat-Torak Mandal, in Lahore. Shown an advance copy, the Mandal wanted him to omit some references they deemed offensive. Ambedkar therefore declined to give the speech but, not being one to allow himself to be forgotten, as Gandhi wrote, he published a thousand copies at his own cost for sale and circulation. Dr. Ambedkar was no doubt a man of innumerable talents, but brevity does not appear to be notable among them. In Chief Justice Chandrachud's wry observation, the Indian Constitution is not a document of few words. Neither is this handiwork of the doctor's, what Arundhati Roy terms his greatest. It is a 50-page long speech turned into a booklet.
Gandhi welcomed it.
"Dr. Ambedkar was not going to be beaten by the Reception Committee. He has answered their rejection of him by publishing the address at his own expense. He has priced it at 8 annas. I would suggest a reduction to 2 annas or at least 4 annas."
"No reformer can ignore the address. The orthodox will gain by reading it. This is not to say that the address is not open to objection. It has to be read if only because it is open to serious objection." (italics mine)
( "Dr. Ambedkar's Indictment – I", Harijan, 11-July-1936, CWMG, Volume 69, p. 206)
One wonders if it was Ms. Roy's purpose to spite Gandhi - writing such a long preface that the reader might quit well before getting to the actual speech. That would be a pity. Annihilation of Caste is fascinating. A few nuggets:
"From where does the Sikh or the Mohammedan derive his strength which makes him brave and fearless ?… It is due to the strength arising out of the feeling that all Sikhs will come to the rescue of a Sikh when he is in danger and that all Mohammedans will rush to save a Muslim if he is attacked. The Hindu can derive no such strength. He cannot feel assured that his fellows will come to his help. Being one and fated to be alone he remains powerless, develops timidity and cowardice and in a fight surrenders or runs away. The Sikh as well as the Muslim stands fearless and gives battle because he knows that though one he will not be alone… If you pursue this matter further and ask what is it that enables the Sikh and the Mohammedan to feel so assured and why is the Hindu filled with such despair in the matter of help and assistance you will find that the reasons for this difference lie in the difference in their associated mode of living."
That the Sikh or the Pathan had a reputation for courage even in regions where few of his co-religionists were to be found, or that the Hindu 'gurkha' was synonymous with the lone watchman patrolling the entire neighbourhood, does not appear in any way to disturb this stream of wisdom. Dr. Ambedkar goes on,
"This explains why one Mohammedan is equal to a crowd of Hindus…"
The very belief asserted loud across Pakistan in the drumbeat to every war with India! It gets even better.
"The capacity to appreciate merits in a man apart from his caste does not exist in a Hindu. There is appreciation of virtue but only when the man is a fellow caste-man."
One presumes that Dr. Ambedkar knew something of Vivekananda's story. Who financed the swami's trip to the West? Shivaji employed all manner of people in various positions. Were they all the same caste as the ruler? Not to put too fine a point on it, but didn't Hindus from a whole range of castes, including the hosts to whom this speech was addressed, see virtue in Dr. Ambedkar? Moving on,
"…the weak in Europe has had in his freedom of military service his physical weapon, in suffering his political weapon and in education his moral weapon. These three weapons for emancipation were never withheld by the strong from the weak in Europe. All these weapons were, however, denied to the masses in India by Chaturvarnya."
What about Europe's New World and slavery? Ambedkar had lived in the United States at a time when lynching was commonplace in many parts of that land. He makes no mention of these horrors. Just as interesting, Ms. Roy, who excoriates Gandhi for his reluctance to advocate on behalf of Africans as he did for the Indians in South Africa, is so loath to contrast it with Dr. Ambedkar's own tireless activism on behalf of the American Negro…
As to those weapons being withheld from the weak in India? Here's Dr. Ambedkar himself, elsewhere,
"Many Britishers think that India was conquered by the Clives, Hastings, Coots and so on. Nothing can be a greater mistake. India was conquered by an army of Indians and the Indians who formed the army were all untouchables. British rule in India would have been impossible if the untouchables had not helped the British to conquer India. Take the Battle of Plassey which laid the beginning of British rule or the battle of Kirkee which completed the conquest of India. In both these fateful battles the soldiers who fought for the British were all untouchables..."
(Letter from Dr. BR Ambedkar to AV Alexander, member, Cabinet Mission, 1946)
And Ms. Roy writes, archly,
"The trouble is that Gandhi actually said everything and its opposite. To cherry pickers, he offers such a bewildering variety of cherries that you have to wonder if there was something the matter with the tree."
Not to worry, Arundhati, cherries aren't apples; the doctor will not be kept away,
"The Hindus hold to the sacredness of the social order. Caste has a divine basis. You must therefore destroy the sacredness and divinity with which Caste has become invested. In the last analysis, this means you must destroy the authority of the Shastras and the Vedas."
Here was Ambedkar, cheerfully asking an ancient religion with hundreds of millions of adherents – one without any synod, besides – to abolish itself. Called in to tackle white ants, the exterminator recommends burning down the house!
Gandhi summed it up:
"In my opinion the profound mistake that Dr. Ambedkar has made in his address is to pick out the texts of doubtful authenticity and value and the state of degraded Hindus who are no fit specimens of the faith they, so woefully misrepresent. Judged by the standard applied by Dr. Ambedkar, every known living faith will probably fail....In his able address, the learned Doctor has over-proved his case."
("Dr. Ambedkar's Indictment – II", Harijan, 18-July-1936, CWMG, Volume 69, p. 227)
Seeing Gandhi's Harijan articles on Ambedkar's booklet, Sant Ram of the Jat-Pat-Torak Mandal wrote back stating that his organization rejected the Shastras. Gandhi answered with what amounted to an interesting challenge to Ambedkar,
"But it is pertinent to ask what the Mandal believes if it rejects the Shastras. How can a Muslim remain one if he rejects the Quran, or a Christian remain Christian if he rejects the Bible? … I have certainly meant it when I have said that if the Shastras support the existing untouchability I should cease to call myself a Hindu. Similarly, if the Shastras support caste as we know it today in all its hideousness, I may not call myself or remain a Hindu since I have no scruples about inter-dining or intermarriage."
("Varna v. Caste", Harijan, 15-August-1936, CWMG, Volume 69, p. 306)
What if Ambedkar had taken up the challenge and entered into a positive public debate with Gandhi? I suspect the problem really lay deeper, in understanding. Gandhi was not in the least enamoured of certificates - progressive, modern, socialist, etc. He was always after, as he put it, the "real article". As a practical social reformer he knew that attitudes take time to change; for abiding resolutions there were no short cuts. Dr. Ambedkar's "Rx for Hinduism: Off with your Vedas" was not a feasible prescription even if one agreed with it - Gandhi didn't. But one of his key strengths was his patience with the other viewpoint. To quote my father, Gandhi accepted little and rejected less. Just as he would listen to Lohia or JP though he did not embrace their socialism, he could read and recommend Ambedkar's writing without endorsing its conclusions. He was able to work with people who didn't always agree with him. Going by this booklet, at least, it would appear Ambedkar had still some distance to travel in this regard. Ms. Roy concurs, if obliquely, "Though Ambedkar had a formidable intellect, he didn't have [various negative] qualities that a good politician needs."
Annihilation of caste had no meaning if Hinduism was to be rejected. Gandhi had the sense to know that this would be no annihilation at all. The wisdom of his understanding is evident from the fact that today Christians and Muslims are asking for caste reservations! Ambedkar's experience of the caste system was personal. He knew of its searing reality in a way no caste Hindu could. The difficulty arises only when personal angst is sought to be elevated into a liberating philosophy, for the latter would need also to factor in contemporaneous social and political forces. Gandhi was able to locate his opposition to untouchability within a larger understanding of oppression, whereas Ambedkar did not see the irony of statist and centrist positions coinciding with an opposition to caste Hindu oppression.
Arundhati Roy laments that in his ubiquitous statue, the book Dr. Ambedkar is seen holding is the Indian Constitution, and not the doctor's finest creation, Annihilation Of Caste. It seems to me that Ms. Roy should let the statue (and the statute!) stand. History does have a quaint sense of humour. For all the abuse Ambedkar had heaped at Gandhi's door for a quarter century and up, it was Gandhi's India that would give Ambedkar the opportunity to come into his own, to leave behind something tangible, practical, momentous.
1. All the quotes in this article are from Dr. Ambedkar's 'Annihilation Of Caste' unless otherwise indicated.
2. CWMG – Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi
Niranjan Ramakrishnan's Reading Gandhi in the Twenty-First Century was published last year by Palgrave.
Post a Comment
- Daily Mail
Sydney, Australia
I disagree.
The caste divide between dalits and non-dalits will perpetuate for two reasons:
1. Corrupt politicians who enjoy money and power claiming themselves champions of dalits will lose the support of vote bank if caste harmony is established.
2. Three generations of a creamy layer of dalits who continue to corner all benefits of reservation for their children and grandchildren in the name of caste discrimination, will lose all the privileges and entitlements if such discrimination goes away.May 06, 2014 12:30 AM DC, NEW YORK, United States
No doubt Ambedkar was uncomfortable with the rotten caste culture of India and the oppressive attitude that goes with it. The problem is the same attitude prevails in all walks of life despite numerous attempts to reform administration and affirmative action program. All we need is cultural change and strong legal framework to curb discriminatory attitude in the country.May 03, 2014 08:41 AM , ,
BJP's 'anti-Muslim Ambedkar' pitch is a big, fat lie
by MK Venu (Former executive editor, The Hindu)
The immediate provocation for the current debate on Ambedkar and Muslims is the BJP's desire to take away some of the core Dalit votes in Uttar Pradesh. Mayawati is trying to re-emphasise that Dalits and Muslims, who have remained poor and backward since 1947, have reason to work together against the upper caste Hindu elite. In fact this is precisely the big message that Dr BR Ambedkar tries to give in his work, Pakistan or Partition of India, where he examines the genuine predicaments of the Muslim minority in a predominantly Hindu society.
Far from distrusting the Indian Muslims, Ambedkar says, "There are many lower orders in the Hindu society whose economic, political and social needs are the same as those of the majority of the Muslims and they could be far more ready to make a common cause with the Muslim than they would with high caste Hindus who have denied and deprived them of ordinary human rights for centuries"..... Herein lies the most fruitful method of communal harmony among Hindus and Muslims and of destroying the danger of Hindu Raj". So Ambedkar clearly sought lasting Dalit-Muslim unity.
Each time the Sangh parivar quotes Ambedkar for its ends, it actually brings out the fact that all the ideas and formulations of the great Dalit leader were aimed at preventing the Hindu Raj. In the same essays, Ambedkar said, "If Hindu Raj does become a fact, it will, no doubt be the greatest calamity for this country. It is a menace to liberty, equality and fraternity. It is incompatible with democracy. It must be stopped at any cost."
Also, it was from a position of empathy that Ambedkar critiqued the social practices of Indian Muslims and urged them to reform the way Muslims had done in other parts of the world, like Turkey. Ambedkar said Indian Muslims did not reform because the predominantly Hindu environment created a feeling that they were being socially and politically encroached upon by the majority community.
Whether it is Ambedkar, Sardar Patel or Gandhi, the Sangh Parivar continues its attempt to co-opt these leaders in one way or other. But the key question is -- can a leopard change its spots?
www.firstpost.com/politics/bjps-anti-muslim-ambedkar-pitch-is-a-big-fat-lie-1499723.htmlMay 02, 2014 01:41 AM Anwaar, Dallas, United States
Kiran >> They acknowledged each other's patriotism, intellectual honesty and a common desire to find the truth.
Rightly said but do you notice that the so called inheritors of legacy of Gandhi and Ambedkar are utterly lacking the above traits - patriotism, honesty and desire to find truth?
Take Sonia Gandhi family which claims to inherit the legacy of gandhi, see how the family has a unrepentant alcoholic, how the family has merrily cheered mass murders (in Sri Lanka 2009) ..
Some one like Mayawati (a lady whom i do admire for many many things) has also betrayed the legacy by the way she used her regime to build useless statues of elephants in name of Ambedkar park, come on, how can the statues of an animal which is her party symbol represent Ambedkar in any manner? Disgustig
May 01, 2014 02:53 PM Ramki_Uncensored, Delhi, India
Kishore Kant >> There is no more reason to abolish Hinduism because of untouchability than there is to abolish Christianity fopr anti-Semitism or Islam for intolerance.
Untouchablity and Caste System has existed in Islam and Christianity in some periods...
Slavery of Blacks was Untouchablity+Caste Discrimination rolled into one, both Christian Whites as well as Medevial Era Arab Muslims practised it on industry scale...
And present day Romas of Europe are facing untouchablity but it is just that Media is silent on it..
And right in 2014, in Islamic, Arab nation of Yemen untouchablity and exploitation of a community is there . See this : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Al-Akhdam
May 01, 2014 02:50 PM Ramki_Uncensored, Delhi, India
There is no more reason to abolish Hinduism because of untouchability than there is to abolish Christianity fopr anti-Semitism or Islam for intolerance.
Hop it, Arundirty.May 01, 2014 09:36 AM Kishore Kant, Delhi, India
> For all the abuse Ambedkar had heaped at Gandhi's door for a quarter century and up..
This is not a fair judgement on the man. Ambedkar was an intellectual. He never indulged in personal abuse. At a time when every other politician in the Congress was bending obsequiously over in front of Gandhi, he stood his ground and challenged Gandhi intellectually. The only other intellectual who gave him a similar debate, in my opinion, was Tagore. People like Gandhi, Ambedkar and Tagore were gifted statesmen. They may not have been right in all issues, but they had the courage to hold onto an intellectual discourse with people they disagreed with. They acknowledged each other's patriotism, intellectual honesty and a common desire to find the truth.
These fine qualities are very hard to be found these days. What we find is empty polemic and grudges, even amongst writers. This is a sad turn of events for India.May 01, 2014 04:06 AM , ,
Next time someone claims Caste system and Untouchablity are contributions of Hinduism, show them this linkMay 01, 2014 02:18 AM Ramki_Uncensored, Delhi, India
Don Quixote >> Perhaps for this reason, Ambedkar was supportive of partition. Ram Guha once said that in India you can criticize Gandhi but can't criticize ambedkar. May be that is the lasting legacy of Gandhi, Any dog can abuse gandhi
The one real difference btw BR Ambedkar and MK Gandhi was that the former was a very practical person while latter was an idealist. And that explains much..
It is this practical person in BR Ambedkar - who - despite personal humiliation from the extremes of untouchablity did not chose to like Jinnah demand a separate nation for dalits, but rather put himself as part of the constitution post independence to take baby steps to ensure better lives for dalits.
Ambedkar was also rightly diagnozed that 1) Caste system had nothing to do with race and he rejected the Aryan-Dravidan fiction of EVR (periyar) and today's scientific studies are telling same, namely most Indians originate from same genetic pool of 3000 years back 2) He also firmly believed that except SC and STs no one else needed reservation and he was also skeptical of long term necessity or relevance of reservation and that is why the 10 year limit and extensible then on 10 years was sought by him..
And lastly he fully understood that Pakistan will descend to become a islamic theocracy and he did predict that islam's extremist versions (wahabbism) will be worse than most feudal and caste ridden hindu version and that is again proved to be right.
And of course one big similarity BTW both Gandhi and Ambedkar is that both group's followers simply do not have their respective honesty and truthfullness. Thus today the so called Gandhian followers pretend to forget Gandhi's beliefs regarding liquor (prohibition etc) and sex (need for self control) and likewise Ambedkar's followers have long junked his ideologies and real thought process and only using his icon for their personal benefits.Apr 30, 2014 11:49 PM Ramki_Uncensored, Delhi, India
Both MK Gandhi and BR Ambedkar were product of their times and they (along with many other great leaders particularly SV Patel and SC Bose) shaped Modern India..
And while we dwell and endlessly do "Pedantic Nitpicking" of their minute differences, we forget that with all the differences, MK Gandhi and BR Ambedkar worked together many times to create Modern (india) along with others..
Which is why both these leaders (and also most others) stayed in Divided but Hindu Majority Secular India but not in Islamic Theocracy of Pakistan. Today we all miss the message - there will be difference of ideologies and beliefs but we should move on and ensure better lives for everyone. Today there is a tiny elite which is using all the differences to create a industry of writing endless fiction and creating fancy theories to inflame . People like arundathi roy are of this group... they are simply incapable of doing even a single act in their personal life to improve the lot of dalits or underprivileged around them and they justify their feudal and royal existence and importance by spinning fiction and magnifying differences... Such people are dangerous rabble rousers and threat to the harmony of the nation.Apr 30, 2014 11:40 PM Ramki_Uncensored, Delhi, India
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Of Local Interest
Wednesday, April 2, 2014 1:00 AM
In celebration of National Library Week, the Friends of the Neshoba County Public Library will hold a book sale Monday-Friday, April 14-18 inside the library beginning at 8 each morning. A variety of books and magazines will be available for purchase. For more information please call the library at 601-656-4911.
Anonymous Meeting
A Gamblers Anonymous meeting on 208 Range Ave. (Phil. AA group), will be held Thursday 5:30-6:30 p.m.
DRGHS meeting
Dancing Rabbit Genealogical and Historical Society will meet at 1 p. m. Wednesday, April 9 at Carthage-Leake Public Library. Ann Breedlove, archivist, from the Attala County Library will present the program.
Gospel Concert
The Browders, Southern Gospel Quartet, will be in concert at Singleton United Methodist Church on Friday, April 11 at 7 p.m. The church is located 12 miles north of Carthage on Singleton Road. No admission will be charged; a love offering will be received. For more information, call Barbara at 601-267-3912 or 601-267-9488 after 6 p.m.
Camp Rainbow
Liberty Tax Service of Carthage and Kosciusko will be helping Camp Rainbow in Utica. Camp Rainbow, a nonprofit, is a place for cancer patients and survivors to go for a five-day retreat. Last year it lost all funding from the American Cancer Society. It takes $40,000 to run this five-day retreat. The public is invited to visit McMillan Park on Saturday, April 12 at 12 noon and purchase a chicken plate and drink. There will be live music for the adults and Space Jumpers for the kids. For more information please contact Kristal @ 601-826-5895.
The Browders form Kingsport, Tenn. will be in concert, Sunday, April 13 at 6 p.m. at Salem Baptist Church. Bro. Larry Duncan and the entire congregation invite you to attend. For more information call 601-775-8272.
Neshoba SWCD Grain Drill for rent
The Neshoba County Soil and Water Conservation District has a 10 foot grain drill for rent. This equipment is eligible for use by landowners in and around Neshoba County. The charge for using the drill is $5 per acre with a minimum of $50 per day. You will need to sign a rental agreement and supply a $100 deposit prior to rental. The equipment will be inspected upon return. You must have a 3/4 ton or larger truck to transport and a tractor with 70 or more horse power to pull. This equipment should only be used in open fields which do not contain stumps or large rocks; such as pasture, hay land and cropland. You must call ahead to be scheduled for rental due to high demand in the planting seasons. For more information please contact the Neshoba County Soil and Water Conservation District at 601-656-8783 ext. 3 or come by our office at 511 East Lawn Dr,
Paul Cox with Aslan's Place will lead a seminar on "Exploring Heavenly Realms" at Global Vision Faith Center, 1006 east Main St.
Date sare Friday and Saturday, April 4-5. Get details at www.globalvisionfc.com or call Sheila at 601/562-2408.
ECCC Choir, Ac'cents To Hold Auditions
The East Central Community College Concert Choir and Ac'cents show choir will hold auditions at 1 p.m. Thursday, April 24, in the Vickers Fine Arts Center on the Decatur Campus, Members of the Concert Choir receive half tuition scholarships and those selected for Ac'cents receive a full tuition scholarship.
For more information contact Blaylock at 601-635-6225 or email email@example.com.
Pre-K Registration
Philadelphia Public Schools will hold registration for PRE-K on April 7 from 3:15 until 6 p.m. These students will need to be 4 years old on or before Aug. 1. Kindergarten registration will be held on April 9 from 3:15 until 6 p.m. These students will need to be 5 years old on or before August 1, 2014.
Information also required and must be presented by the legal guardian:
Certified copy of birth certificate; Social Security card; Immunization Compliance form 121. Must state complete for school entry; Guardianship papers, if applies; two proofs of residency: Driver's license, Automobile registration, apartment or home lease, voter precinct identification,filed homestead exemption application form or utility bills, i.e. phone bill, gas bill, electric bill, etc.
School Age Change
As part of Senate Bill 2571 signed by Governor Phil Bryant the compulsory-school age requirement has changed as follows:
Compulsory-school-age child" means a child who has attained or will attain the age of six (6) years on or before August 1 of the calendar year and who has not attained the age of 17 years on or before August 1 of the calendar year; and shall include any child who has attained or will attain the age of five years on or before August 1 and has enrolled in a full-day public school kindergarten program.
Previously the requirement was Sept. 1. This means a child who is 5 on or before Aug. 1 may enroll in kindergarten.
There will be an old time camp meeting service at Northside Pentecostal Church on Friday, April 4 at 7 p.m. Pastor is Samuel Fulton. Music will be by Peggy Alford Jordan. The speaker will be the Rev. Marlon Adcock. On Saturday, April 5 at 7 p.m. there will be music by the Gospel Warriors with the Rev. Arrie Fulton as speaker. On Sunday, April 6 at 2 p.m., the church will celebrate its three-year anniversary. The speaker will be the Rev. Arrie Fulton.
Mississippi Loggers Association Central District will hold its annual Log-A-Load auction on April 26 at 6 p.m. Fish and chicken plates for adults are $10 and children 12 and under are $5. We will start serving at 4 p.m. It will be held at Mars Hill Volunteer Fire Department at the intersection of Road 397 and Mars Hill Road. This will benefit the Blair E. Batson Children's Hospital.
Amazing Grace Church
Amazing Grace Church is hosting a prayer and a resurrection buffet breakfast/workshop on April 5 from 5:30 to 11:30 a.m. The guest speakers are Barbara Barry, Charles Green and Belin Carter. Donations are welcome. Pastor is Alene Parker.
American Legion Post
The American Legion Post 138 will meet Tuesday, April 8 at 6:30 p.m. We will be discussing our upcoming fundraiser. A potluck meal will be served.
Law Officers
Mt. Carmel Baptist Church in the Johnsonville Community of Neshoba County will have a Law Officers Recognition Day April 6 during the morning worship service. This service will be a memorial to the late Glen Waddell who served Neshoba County citizens for 28 years in law enforcement. The Rev. Ricky Peebles, deputy sheriff for Prentiss County, will be the guest speaker. Morning service begins at 11 a.m. A potluck meal will be served at lunch. All county law enforcement officers and supporters of our law officers are invited to come show our support.
Mt. Carmel Revival
Mt. Carmel Baptist Church in the Johnsonville community of Neshoba County will have revival services April 4-5. Services begin each night at 6:30 p.m.
The Rev. Ricky Peebles from Booneville will be the guest speaker. The pastor Mack Alford invites everyone to come and enjoy these services.
Spring Revival
The Pleasant Valley Church family would like to invite everyone to their annual spring revival beginning Sunday, April 13 through Thursday, April 17. Sunday night service begins at 6 p.m. Monday-Thursday services begin at 7 p.m. There will be a different speaker each night: Sunday, Pastor Andrew Fair of Fancher Hill MBC and Bethlehem MBC in McCool; Monday, Pastor Driscal McShane of Bethlehem MBC in Goodman; Tuesday, Pastor Thurman Brazzle Jr. of Popular Spring in Philadelphia; Wednesday, Pastor Jerry Johnson of New Garden in Kosciusko and New County Line in Carthage; and Thursday, Pastor James Howell of Mt. Zion MBC in Kosciusko.
Registration for Neshoba County Youth Football and Cheer
Neshoba County Youth Football and Cheer is offering Early Bird Registration beginning February 28 and ending July 12. Cheer registration will be $85.00 as opposed to $100; includes a complete uniform. Five and 6 year old tackle is $40 as opposed to $50.
Seven to 12 year old tackle is $50 as opposed to $65. After the July 12 deadline all Early Bird prices will be void and registrants will be required to pay the regular in season fee. A copy of a live birth certificate is also required of each registrant.
Neshoba County Youth provides game jersey and game pants for all football season which is to be returned at the end of the season.
A lunch is also provided on in season away games for every child that is a part of cheer and tackle. There is an End of Year Banquet where awards for each child are provided during the banquet.
For more information regarding registration or about the league please contact any Board Member: Insurance Coordinator: Brookes Hardin-416-5397; Secretary: Mary Triplett-575-0366; Treasurer: Debbie Reynolds-575-1207; Vice-President: Dun Moore-562-9867; and CEO Greg Fulton-650-8301. Greg Fulton will be available from 10 a.m. to 12 a.m. on Saturday's for registration.
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