Open mind...open heart

This title is how Amy Besa described the way she went home to the Philippines 30 years after she left, at the beginning of her book Memories of Philippine Kitchens.

I like the sound of this - it seems to be a good description of my intentions so I'm borrowing it.
When I'm asked the inevitable question ..."what are you going to do?" I usually talk about how I prefer to imagine being rather than doing. To be curious and without judgment. Open mind, open heart.

Back to Amy Besa. Amy left the Philippines in 1972 just before martial law was declared. She was 21 and very disillusioned with what was happening in the country, as were many. She refers to the following 19 years as self-imposed exile, ending in 1992. In the years leading up to 1972, there was much unrest - bombings of businesses and gatherings and the U.S. embassy (twice). Marcos declared martial law which continued until the 1980's. It sounds like a difficult time. Some have described it as the darkest time in Philippine history.

Back to the present, in 2003 Amy and her husband/chef-partner, Romy Dorotan, researched their book by tapping into the memories, stories and recipes of their contemporaries. Who just happen to be my contemporaries too. In that time of unrest when many left the country, their experiences echo the discontent of many other young people, from many countries around the world in that time in the late '60's early '70's - commonly known as student protests (where is that now, some are asking). I would also think that being on the other edge of the South China Sea when the war in Southeast Asia was going on must have been unsettling to say the least.

The book is fabulous - all of those stories plus amazing pictures as well.

Water Water...Everywhere?

Yesterday evening on the plane moving between Niagara-on-the-Lake and serial retirement, I read an article in the May issue of Vanity Fair about water. It's not an easy read. As a matter of fact I know I'm going to have to reread it as there was much that I didn't understand.

It talked about the problems countries have creating and delivering water systems to their people. It talks about private companies assuming responsibility for this and the challenges of the privatization model when it comes to pricing. It talks about the social protests that have occurred in the Philippines and elsewhere when the price of water is increased significantly.

This protest phenomenon is something we witnessed when we lived in Jamaica. On the day Steve was born the entire country was shut down as on Sunday night the government had doubled the price of gasoline and virtually every aspect of the people's lives had changed as a result. The people certainly recognized this and took to the streets. They called it "riots" in the North American press but it wasn't that really. From my perspective it was very eerie. Roads were blocked and piles of tires were burning. I sat on my terrace a week overdue looking down over the city of Kingston from our Smokey Vale mountain, seeing the plume of black smoke rising in various parts of the city. A man was shot at a major intersection and died in the hospital where Steve was born a day later. Getting through the roadblocks to go to the hospital was a trip and a half. I came back to consciousness after he was born with army helicopters hovering over the hospital's neighbourhood. The hospital was one storey with an open courtyard in the middle so what I'm talking about is Apocalypse Now type hovering.

I digress.

The sheer challenge of providing water to the people of the Philippines is enormous. When I start to think about the fact that Manila is a city of between 11 and 14 million people depending on who you listen to, 11 to 14 times the size of Ottawa, I can start to imagine those challenges. Money is a challenge for sure and the article suggests that the World Bank and the Asian Development Bank certainly play a role. But the extent of the problem is huge - water pollution, leaky municipal systems, market pricing and social issues, scarcity and on and on.

I'm looking at the water in my glass, poured from the tap here in Ottawa, in an entirely new way. I have a sense that - no, a hope that - I'll be seeing behind what we have become so accustomed to.

Only 1 in three people on this planet have access to fresh, clean water.