Is Bush really a mother trucker?
I needed to pee. But I found it hard to detach myself from the statuesque, 20 something year old who was dancing with me, cheek-to-cheek, thigh to thigh. In New York this would be a stuff of urban myths for me. But this was Brazil. And I was in the hottest nightclub in Rio's snooty hang out of nouveau rich, Barra da Tajuca. I could not even remember the last time I danced so close to a girl that attractive, that shapely and that young. I never was the ladies man - a relatively short and now a middle-aged investment banker, from Pakistan. The girls I fantasized about went for the surfer types from California. Guys who were tall, athletic and whose hair had been rendered even blonder by the Colorado or California sun. I was not that. While the Western women reluctantly accepted a Pakistani man by giving him benefit of the doubt, 9/11 had removed any such lingering doubts. Very few girls, bar the rebellious ones, wanted any of that.
Reluctantly I peeled myself from the girl, leaving her to the pariahs around her - about three or four Brazilian guys who were envious of me dancing with a girl who was clearly out of my league. They had made some snide comments to me on the dance floor. Comments I could not understand due to my lack of Portuguese fluency, but nonetheless could sense by the looks on their faces.
Time and age don’t take away everything. They give back something in return as well. Like self-awareness. I learned - sometimes through bitter experience - what worked for me and what didn't. This applied to various realms of life. Be it pursuing the other sex or just dealing with my co-workers in a completely asexual environment. What worked for me when pursuing women was my ability to converse. Or to dance!
Growing up in a conservative Muslim country I would never know how I developed these abilities, especially the dancing. Maybe it was the lack of other avenues of release that made my brother and I dance to MTV songs. We understood neither context nor lyrics. But we watched a lot of videos, and besides instilling a desire to see the US, these taught us to dance well. In the Portuguese-speaking Brazil the art of conservation evaporated quickly, but dancing came in handy.
I had to pee, badly. Bathroom seemed like a welcome relief from the apparently hostile dance floor environment. But that was a naïve notion. As I turned to grab a tissue to dry my hands near the basin, a big Brazilian guy uttered something in half drunk tone. I realized he was trying to ask where I was from. I recognized him from the dance floor, making a futile attempt at the girl I was dancing with. He was not happy. I answered his question and made the same mistake again. “I live in New York”, I said. The insecurity of post 9/11 environment made me come up with answers which while not untrue, would nonetheless conceal my Muslim identity and true national origin. This answer was poorly suited to the post Iraq war, anti-American environment in Latin America.
As the drunk Brazilian guy grabbed my arm and uttered some words (obviously obscenities) about Bush, I felt a sense of deja vu. Just a week ago I made the same mistake in Florianopolis, the island paradise in Southern Brazil. I stood in line for the bathroom when someone approached me and said something. When I answered him politely in English, he immediately got worked up. "Bush is a motherfucker", he said. Looking not to pick a fight and placate a possibly drunk guy in a bar, I said "Yes he is somewhat crazy". I might have believed my statement partly, but my reasons were possibly not what the Brazilian guy had in mind. But I had no time to explain him the history of the successful transformation of Japan, Germany and South Korea, or the failure of Vietnam saga, the random and probabilistic outcome of events, the law of unintended consequences, or the Ayan Rand's utopian version of economic liberation through permission of free enterprise. I was looking to avoid a fight.
What upset me was not the drunk guy, who made me swallow my pride. It was the immigration officer who questioned me in the US before I got on a plane to come to Brazil. He might actually be a good person deep down. I would never know. But to me he was a cross INS officer who thought of interviewing me as another unnecessary work load. I could not agree with him more in this regards. I could tell he was from some African country. I was much more "Americanized" than he was. He was probably a new arrival who got a quick green card through family sponsorship. Someone other earlier immigrants derogatorily refer to as FOB or "fresh off boat". I was once called that by someone while at school in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The INS officer reminded me of the other Chinese INS officer who interviewed me when I was going to France. Having worked in Asian investment banking for past nine years, I have heard some very strong Chinese-accented English. My English and Aussie colleagues, who are less bound by the American-style political correctness call it Chinglish. This officer definitely spoke Chinglish.
How ironic was this. In the US I was a Pakistani Muslim male who has to get INS approval and FBI clearance before boarding any international flight. While abroad I was an American who can be used as a whipping boy by anyone unhappy with US global policies. My past few years of living in North Carolina and New York (and some time in Canada) had given me just enough of an American accent that I was still a middle-eastern foreigner in the country, but a full fledged hate-able American when abroad. The same way that I was a likely target of any terrorist attack on my home city of New York, while at the same time a possible instigator of any such atrocity in the eyes of the US government. To top it all off, I had to pay full taxes (federal, city, and state) like a US resident, while not having the most basic of a resident's rights (right to vote, freedom to enter or leave the country etc).
Things got bad after 9/11 and Iraq war brought new kind of misery. Will Iraq war eventually be worth it? Will Iraq make it? Will it be another Japan, Germany or even South Korea? My numerous travels to Asia instilled in me a deep respect for the hard working and ambitious populace in those countries. Their work ethic, motivation and discipline that would make the Western world envious, seems like a sure fire way to quick development. I saw very hard working and motivated people in my native Pakistan (and the neighboring India) too. But their numbers relative to the swarming populations of lazy citizens were meager. And they seemed to lack the citizenry or social discipline that punctuated other Asians' personal and professional conduct.
No wonder South Korea made such great strides after the war. American military protection and freedom of enterprise enabled this nation of hard working and disciplined people to achieve its potential in a fairly rapid time. Rise and fall of nations often takes many decades or centuries. South Korea almost made it in just over 3 decades. Japan and Germany already had a developed work ethic and a solid industrial and technological base for further development. American bombs might have decimated their military defenses, they never eviscerated their technological know how and scientific prowess. Hence under the umbrella of American security they not only regained their economic strength, they made even further strides.
Vietnam had neither of these qualities. And Americans were not even able to provide any extended protection or direction to the country. No wonder Vietnam is not considered to be even in the periphery of Asian Tigers. Similarly, Nicaragua is never mentioned as a role model for social or economic reconstruction.
So what will be the fate of Iraq? Initial prognosis is indeed frightful. Self-serving politicians and corrupt bureaucrats are waiting like grinning hyenas for Americans to leave so that they can feed on the carcass of this oil rich nation. And this problem is just a minor irritant compared to the current law & order breakdown. But I'm a big believer in appropriate incentive systems in a free capitalistic economy leading to rapid financial progress. Never underestimate man's motivation to earn an extra buck for himself and in process generate some bucks for the society at large. However, I have seen free markets being paralyzed by corrupt government officials, lack of organization in society at large, absence of work ethic etc. I have seen democracy being undermined by lack of awareness in masses, absence of informed middle class, feudal influences, and a desire for impractically quick results.
The "liberation" of Iraq might work, but results will be mixed at best. The freedom of enterprise will eventually bring economic prosperity, but results will take much longer than South Korea. Japan and Germany are not even distant comparables. And even the mixed economic development will happen only if Iraq is able to stick to such commitments after the Americans leave. And leave they must, and quickly. After all this is the region that was ruled by foreign occupiers for a long time before the French and English influence waned. Today's adults in Mid-East and South Asia were kids who grew up reading heroic stories of their elders ridding the country of evil foreign occupiers. The leaders who affected such change (even if they had little control over circumstances and were merely lucky to lead at the right time and take the credit) are glorified in the extreme. Freedom to people in these countries does not necessarily mean personal freedom in the Western sense. To them it often means the freedom from foreign occupation. Their personal freedom is subject to Allah's will.
Even in the most progressive Muslim country, Turkey, populace seems highly resistant to ideas of freedom and liberty when perceived to be imposed by the West. Liberal thought was advanced in Turkey only when Kamal Attaturk was able to walk the fine line of denouncing the West while being able to import the Western values of personal freedom and tolerance under the garb of local tradition.
It was getting very late. I talked to the girl for some time and we exchanged phone numbers and emails. As I walked out with my friend, we were greeted by three strangers outside the gate. The younger one of them was keen to know where we were from. The effects of alcohol had started to wear off. I thought of what the appropriate answer should be. My line of 'I live in New York' was no longer innocuous. I thought of something else which, while being inert, would be true nonetheless. Not that I felt bound by truth at that time. "I'm a Canadian", I said. The younger guy said something in half broken English. I could only understand 'fight' in his sentence. Maybe he wanted to fight, or maybe he was referring to the numerous mixed martial arts fighters and boxers that come out of Montreal. Brazil, being the home of Jujitsu fighting, contained some of the most tenacious fighters in the world. My inexplicable penchant for watching the often barbaric Ultimate Fighting Championship on TV made me well informed about people's proclivity for violence in this particular part of Brazil. Inebriation and thin law enforcement can often add to this lethal cocktail.
As my friend and I grew increasingly apprehensive of the young guy's next move, the older/taller guy next to him said something in Portuguese about Canada. His tone was partly pacifying, partly complementary. The younger guy seemed to back off. We shook hands with them and jumped in the first taxi cab we saw. It became very clear to me then. For now I'm a Canadian. Maybe for a long time.
Reluctantly I peeled myself from the girl, leaving her to the pariahs around her - about three or four Brazilian guys who were envious of me dancing with a girl who was clearly out of my league. They had made some snide comments to me on the dance floor. Comments I could not understand due to my lack of Portuguese fluency, but nonetheless could sense by the looks on their faces.
Time and age don’t take away everything. They give back something in return as well. Like self-awareness. I learned - sometimes through bitter experience - what worked for me and what didn't. This applied to various realms of life. Be it pursuing the other sex or just dealing with my co-workers in a completely asexual environment. What worked for me when pursuing women was my ability to converse. Or to dance!
Growing up in a conservative Muslim country I would never know how I developed these abilities, especially the dancing. Maybe it was the lack of other avenues of release that made my brother and I dance to MTV songs. We understood neither context nor lyrics. But we watched a lot of videos, and besides instilling a desire to see the US, these taught us to dance well. In the Portuguese-speaking Brazil the art of conservation evaporated quickly, but dancing came in handy.
I had to pee, badly. Bathroom seemed like a welcome relief from the apparently hostile dance floor environment. But that was a naïve notion. As I turned to grab a tissue to dry my hands near the basin, a big Brazilian guy uttered something in half drunk tone. I realized he was trying to ask where I was from. I recognized him from the dance floor, making a futile attempt at the girl I was dancing with. He was not happy. I answered his question and made the same mistake again. “I live in New York”, I said. The insecurity of post 9/11 environment made me come up with answers which while not untrue, would nonetheless conceal my Muslim identity and true national origin. This answer was poorly suited to the post Iraq war, anti-American environment in Latin America.
As the drunk Brazilian guy grabbed my arm and uttered some words (obviously obscenities) about Bush, I felt a sense of deja vu. Just a week ago I made the same mistake in Florianopolis, the island paradise in Southern Brazil. I stood in line for the bathroom when someone approached me and said something. When I answered him politely in English, he immediately got worked up. "Bush is a motherfucker", he said. Looking not to pick a fight and placate a possibly drunk guy in a bar, I said "Yes he is somewhat crazy". I might have believed my statement partly, but my reasons were possibly not what the Brazilian guy had in mind. But I had no time to explain him the history of the successful transformation of Japan, Germany and South Korea, or the failure of Vietnam saga, the random and probabilistic outcome of events, the law of unintended consequences, or the Ayan Rand's utopian version of economic liberation through permission of free enterprise. I was looking to avoid a fight.
What upset me was not the drunk guy, who made me swallow my pride. It was the immigration officer who questioned me in the US before I got on a plane to come to Brazil. He might actually be a good person deep down. I would never know. But to me he was a cross INS officer who thought of interviewing me as another unnecessary work load. I could not agree with him more in this regards. I could tell he was from some African country. I was much more "Americanized" than he was. He was probably a new arrival who got a quick green card through family sponsorship. Someone other earlier immigrants derogatorily refer to as FOB or "fresh off boat". I was once called that by someone while at school in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The INS officer reminded me of the other Chinese INS officer who interviewed me when I was going to France. Having worked in Asian investment banking for past nine years, I have heard some very strong Chinese-accented English. My English and Aussie colleagues, who are less bound by the American-style political correctness call it Chinglish. This officer definitely spoke Chinglish.
How ironic was this. In the US I was a Pakistani Muslim male who has to get INS approval and FBI clearance before boarding any international flight. While abroad I was an American who can be used as a whipping boy by anyone unhappy with US global policies. My past few years of living in North Carolina and New York (and some time in Canada) had given me just enough of an American accent that I was still a middle-eastern foreigner in the country, but a full fledged hate-able American when abroad. The same way that I was a likely target of any terrorist attack on my home city of New York, while at the same time a possible instigator of any such atrocity in the eyes of the US government. To top it all off, I had to pay full taxes (federal, city, and state) like a US resident, while not having the most basic of a resident's rights (right to vote, freedom to enter or leave the country etc).
Things got bad after 9/11 and Iraq war brought new kind of misery. Will Iraq war eventually be worth it? Will Iraq make it? Will it be another Japan, Germany or even South Korea? My numerous travels to Asia instilled in me a deep respect for the hard working and ambitious populace in those countries. Their work ethic, motivation and discipline that would make the Western world envious, seems like a sure fire way to quick development. I saw very hard working and motivated people in my native Pakistan (and the neighboring India) too. But their numbers relative to the swarming populations of lazy citizens were meager. And they seemed to lack the citizenry or social discipline that punctuated other Asians' personal and professional conduct.
No wonder South Korea made such great strides after the war. American military protection and freedom of enterprise enabled this nation of hard working and disciplined people to achieve its potential in a fairly rapid time. Rise and fall of nations often takes many decades or centuries. South Korea almost made it in just over 3 decades. Japan and Germany already had a developed work ethic and a solid industrial and technological base for further development. American bombs might have decimated their military defenses, they never eviscerated their technological know how and scientific prowess. Hence under the umbrella of American security they not only regained their economic strength, they made even further strides.
Vietnam had neither of these qualities. And Americans were not even able to provide any extended protection or direction to the country. No wonder Vietnam is not considered to be even in the periphery of Asian Tigers. Similarly, Nicaragua is never mentioned as a role model for social or economic reconstruction.
So what will be the fate of Iraq? Initial prognosis is indeed frightful. Self-serving politicians and corrupt bureaucrats are waiting like grinning hyenas for Americans to leave so that they can feed on the carcass of this oil rich nation. And this problem is just a minor irritant compared to the current law & order breakdown. But I'm a big believer in appropriate incentive systems in a free capitalistic economy leading to rapid financial progress. Never underestimate man's motivation to earn an extra buck for himself and in process generate some bucks for the society at large. However, I have seen free markets being paralyzed by corrupt government officials, lack of organization in society at large, absence of work ethic etc. I have seen democracy being undermined by lack of awareness in masses, absence of informed middle class, feudal influences, and a desire for impractically quick results.
The "liberation" of Iraq might work, but results will be mixed at best. The freedom of enterprise will eventually bring economic prosperity, but results will take much longer than South Korea. Japan and Germany are not even distant comparables. And even the mixed economic development will happen only if Iraq is able to stick to such commitments after the Americans leave. And leave they must, and quickly. After all this is the region that was ruled by foreign occupiers for a long time before the French and English influence waned. Today's adults in Mid-East and South Asia were kids who grew up reading heroic stories of their elders ridding the country of evil foreign occupiers. The leaders who affected such change (even if they had little control over circumstances and were merely lucky to lead at the right time and take the credit) are glorified in the extreme. Freedom to people in these countries does not necessarily mean personal freedom in the Western sense. To them it often means the freedom from foreign occupation. Their personal freedom is subject to Allah's will.
Even in the most progressive Muslim country, Turkey, populace seems highly resistant to ideas of freedom and liberty when perceived to be imposed by the West. Liberal thought was advanced in Turkey only when Kamal Attaturk was able to walk the fine line of denouncing the West while being able to import the Western values of personal freedom and tolerance under the garb of local tradition.
It was getting very late. I talked to the girl for some time and we exchanged phone numbers and emails. As I walked out with my friend, we were greeted by three strangers outside the gate. The younger one of them was keen to know where we were from. The effects of alcohol had started to wear off. I thought of what the appropriate answer should be. My line of 'I live in New York' was no longer innocuous. I thought of something else which, while being inert, would be true nonetheless. Not that I felt bound by truth at that time. "I'm a Canadian", I said. The younger guy said something in half broken English. I could only understand 'fight' in his sentence. Maybe he wanted to fight, or maybe he was referring to the numerous mixed martial arts fighters and boxers that come out of Montreal. Brazil, being the home of Jujitsu fighting, contained some of the most tenacious fighters in the world. My inexplicable penchant for watching the often barbaric Ultimate Fighting Championship on TV made me well informed about people's proclivity for violence in this particular part of Brazil. Inebriation and thin law enforcement can often add to this lethal cocktail.
As my friend and I grew increasingly apprehensive of the young guy's next move, the older/taller guy next to him said something in Portuguese about Canada. His tone was partly pacifying, partly complementary. The younger guy seemed to back off. We shook hands with them and jumped in the first taxi cab we saw. It became very clear to me then. For now I'm a Canadian. Maybe for a long time.
posted by madinmanhattan | 8:38 AM
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