It’s
been a while since I posted something here. I have been actively writing and
perhaps, one day, will post the letters I have been writing to my nephews and
nieces. Mind you, they are not old enough to understand, let alone, read my current thoughts. Their high-spirited personalities have not yet been jaded by time. To
my six-year old nephew, I have been cataloguing current events. I can
foresee the days, when he will ask, "Why is the world this way?" He will likely
have many resources to paint a picture. He knows that he can ask me anything
and I will give an unfiltered answer. He has not yet asked me about current
history. For now, he knows me as Captain Aunt Xaz, his most trusted captain over
all the seas, sincere defender of bugs and snakes in this realm, time traveler and best friend. It’s easy to imagine he will think of me as Baz thinks of his Aunt
Fiona* in Rainbow Rowell’s book, Carry On.
And so I write these letters. Yesterday was a heavy news day and I wrote a longer letter than usual. Since my sister doesn't know the content of the letters, I thought I'd share just one.
Monday, June
11, 2018
Dear Seth,
Where do I
even start today?! The most obvious is with the viral photo of Angela Merkel, the Chancellor of Germany, staring down the
U.S. president at the G7 summit. This weekend, leaders of the free world from Canada,
Germany, France, Italy, Japan, the United Kingdom and the United States convened
in Quebec City to sign an innocuous document that, in the very least, would
reaffirm their alliance. Reports describe Trump’s petulant behavior (he refused to sign) as a result of criticisms made by Justin Trudeau, the Canadian Prime Minister, over tariff disputes. Do you recall the entries I wrote at the end of 2016? The sick premonition I fathomed the
night Trump won the election has materialized into that viral picture. Another photo of Xi Jinping (Chinese president) and Putin (Russian president) at the Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit held this weekend has since been contrasted to the G7 summit to demonstrate the economic rise of China. Keep up with your Mandarin lessons. By the time you have these letters, you'll probably smile as you recall those days your mom chauffeured you to your lessons.
Anyway, as I fumed these
thoughts to my colleague about the weekend news, your mom sent an Instagram (IG) message that
quickly subdued my frustration. Our favorite variety show, 2d1n, is the first South Korean entertainment show allowed to film in Panmunjom, which is where the truce to end the Korean war was signed in 1953! IG pictures show
the guys striking a classic pose with the demilitarized zone in the background. It's remarkable since in the
“North of the Gyeonggi” episode, they were forbidden to show any footage of North Korea. In that episode, the members movingly expressed their longing to see reunification with their brethren to
the north. I am rooting for Korea, but like Jongmin stated in that episode,
reunification will need to be done slowly. Honestly, I can’t figure out what Kim
Jong-un gets out of the deal (reunification). His family has been ruling for
decades. I have already expressed those theories in past letters. Time will
tell whether my concerns were valid or nonsense. Despite my apprehension of the
ongoing negotiations between the United States and North Korea, I was happy to see
the guys welcomed into the north.
Unfortunately,
that happiness was then squashed as I was reminded that today marks the
beginning of the end of net neutrality.
Broadband companies have power to influence accessibility to content, whether it be through the speed you pay for or their partiality to certain sites. It’s too early to see the effects, but no doubt, your
generation will have to deal with the aftermath. I’m sorry. Although it is
foreboding news, I am hopeful that there will be some legislative ways to
counter it.
If you’re
keeping score for this entry, the tally is 1-2. One victory with 2d1n and
two defeating news items. It’s going to get worse. Thai informed me that there
were protests in Vietnam over the weekend. His
mom, who is also my best Vietnamese friend, attended the protests. She joined
others who were protesting a negotiation between their government and China,
the premise of which involves a 99-year lease
extended to China to three strategic sites in Vietnam. Regrettably, it was
not well reported in world news and not addressed by the government controlled
Vietnamese media. Fortunately, social media kept the chatter alive. We’ll see
what comes from this voice of resistance from the people who have real concerns
about the increasing and aggressive presence of China on their soil and sea.
To update the
score, we are 1-3.
A bit depressing, huh? You won’t recall, but you made it a little brighter. You
sang a song to me while I ate my bagel and sipped a refreshing beverage in the
shade of McGaugh Hall. You crooned that you were carrying a letter to your
love, but dropped it on the way. You changed the lyrics from yesterday, when
you sang “I sent a letter to my lover and on my way to her, I fell down.” You
brought a smile to my face since the lyrics remind me of Johnny Cash. I
listened to his songs this morning as I prepared working stock concentrations of
various amino acids. I think you’ll find the letters** I have written to Rhys
to be just as valuable as the ones you have before you. By the charm of your voice
and thoughts, the score became 2-3. A major victory for six-year old’s,
everywhere.
Before I
left the lab, I read up on more articles detailing the distress happening to immigrant families at
the southern U.S. border. Families who are seeking asylum from the violence in Central America are being detained and separated from each other, children going into foster care because parents are denied entrance. One article describes it as a new trail of tears.
The activity at the southern border, combined with the sluggish response from the political majority, further discredits this country as a haven of equality and prosperity.The score is 2-4.
As I started
to fill in the gaps to this letter and review the day’s news, I came across a
report of a migrant ship that Italy turned away, a reflection of the hardline
leaders the country has elected.
Spain welcomed
them, instead. A few years ago, I was bothered by the fears that many Americans
expressed regarding Syrian refugees. Honestly, I am still confused as to how
that rhetoric caught fire. With a heavy sigh, the score stands at 2-5.
It was a
rough news day, kid. There were some bright spots. I was able to take a stroll
in the evening with a friend in a lovely green park with large ponds inhabited
by some goldilocks number of geese. The setting was idyllic. As I waited for mi
amiga, this letter was brewing in my head. As I gazed upon the sea of green
grass, gazebos, and geese, my sighs were replaced with grateful deep breaths for the freedom to bask
in the lovely setting and to merrily chat with a friend about whatever the heart desired. You will face days like today and I hope you can find joy in the simple things to carry on.
XOXO
-X
*Rainbow Rowell’s introduction of Baz’s aunt, Fiona. On
page 156, Baz explains his rescue from being kidnapped by numpties. He
narrates:
Aunt
Fiona was appalled when she found me in the numpty den. She berated me all the
way home, and all the way back to Watford. She made me sit in the back seat of
her MG. (A ’67. Glorious.) “The front seat is for people who’ve never been
kidnapped by bloody numpties. JC, Baz.” (Aunt Fiona likes to swear like a
Normal. She thinks she’s punk.)
I
could tell she was half disgusted with me, half relieved that I was still
alive.
I’d
been stuck under that bridge for six weeks, in a coffin—and I don’t even think
the numpties were trying to torture me. I think they thought that was humane
treatment for a vampire. So to speak. They even brought me blood. (I decided
not to think about where they got it.) They did not bring food. Most people
don’t realize that vampires need both. Most people know f-all about vampires….
I
know f-all about vampires. It’s not like I got an instruction pamphlet when I
was bitten.
The
numpties kept me in the coffin for six weeks, and every day or so, they threw
in some blood. (In a thirty-two-ounce plastic cup with a bendy straw.) I can go
without food longer than regular people, but I was pretty ruined by the time
Fiona got there.
Fortunately,
my aunt is an utter badass. She laid waste the numpties before she found my
coffin; then she bombarded me with healing magic. “Early to bed and early to
rise!” she kept whispering. And “Get well soon!”
**My
Letters to Rhys is a collection of family
stories that nicely interweave Johnny Cash songs. It’s nothing short of AH-MAZING.
