It is a Happy Birthday! You know that Saturday Night Live character famed for saying, “I’m 50 years old!” and kick-swinging her leg up over her head? That’s typically me on my birthday. Hard to believe “I’m 39 years old!!!” and still don’t act a day over 12.

I’m one year closer to 40, which is exciting. I’ve been waiting for 40 since I turned 25. I think the world takes you more seriously and you get more of a say in how things go. Maybe that’s always been true, but I for one needed this much of a lifetime of developing myself to believe it.


That’s me and David in front of an aquarium at Shaffer City Oyster Bar, this cool place he took me to for b-day sliders. We had varieties from Nova Scotia and uhhhhm…two other provinces where oysters come from that I forgot. (He just told me Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick).

He got me good gifts – a book called, “How to Shit Around the World: The Art of Staying Clean and Healthy While Traveling”. (He was very pleased with himself for this find.) I got a fridge magnet that says, “Chocolate Slut”. It’s true. In fact, Laurie, my best friend from Chicago sent me a box of high-end, rich man's chocolates from Ethel's. Oh, and a box of candles just arrived! Another one of my favorite things.

David also got me a huge ashtray with my FAVORITE animated Japanese child having a smoke. It's by Jap-artist, Yoshitomo Nara. The saying on the rim is, “Too young to die.” I don’t smoke, but I just love it. He also got me a smelly candle. All of these gifts are perfect. I opened them slowly and suspiciously, wondering if maybe he does know me after all.

Then I mentioned that my friend -- our mutual friend --Steve Centrillo made a $500 donation to Raising Malawi for my birthday. David responded that he was planning to donate $501.

My ex-man David from back home is going to make a $500 birthday donation, too. I swear I didn’t pressure all these half Gs out of people. It just happened that way. I’ll blog that up when I can confirm it went through, just to keep my total collected exact.

And then me. Not to be outdone by the boys, I gave myself a $1,000 birthday donation to Raising Malawi. And I put thru that $2.57 (20 CNY – China Yuan) my client gave me when we were in Japan and no longer needed our China currency.

On this day, I donate my whole 39th year to helping children the world over get the basic care and support they need to have a sense of dignity and purpose. I am certain that someday on this planet, that big wish will come true.

Special thanks again to David Duncan, Steve Centrillo, and (eventually) my ex-man David who know what would really make my birthday a happy one. And please, this is not to suggest it’s the amount that counts. It’s the gesture of birthday love that means everything.

May as well roll on that drum, though. As of January 29, 2007, Birthday donations pushes the total raised so far up by $2,003.57 to a cool $27,253.57!

I’m off to Malawi now! I’ll try to blog updates from the field, Internet willing.

Please check back.

Tonight is my birthday eve on the Gregorian/solar calendar. I share the date with my mentor, Oprah. I am 14 years younger than her. I am eating Chocolate Outrage cake. I brought it home from the Heartland Brewery after shopping in Union Square today for a backpack and books.

I bought, "A New Earth" by Eckhart Tolle. A Malawi travel guide. "Looking for Lovedu: A Woman's Journey through Africa" by Ann Jones. "We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families: Stories from Rwanda" by Philip Gourevitch (sigh...) and, "The Measure of a Man" by Sidney Poitier. It's Oprah's new book club book. I plan to read it and love it and join her for dinner. I made my first wish on that cake there that my upcoming vacation to Malawi helps me grow. I am going to watch my Lord of the Rings DVD now.

I am happy. :)

This is the best documentary! I posted it on my blog a while ago as a link. Please watch it in all its parts. I am raising money to address all these same things in Malawi that Angelina Jolie and Jeffrey Sachs looked at in various villages in Kenya.

PLEASE watch:

Part 1: Nairobi, Kenya. Nairobi is also nicknamed, "Nai-robbery". Until we break the cycle of poverty, history (hell, present life) teaches us it only gets worse. Let's fight terriosm by ending poverty once and for all.





Part 2: Sauri, Kenya. Millenium villages project at work! Simple. Makes sense, no?







Part 3: Sauri, Kenya. The funds I am raising for Malawi are going to help build out the infrastructure/agriculture that can bring this kind of change.

I am leaving for Malawi next Tuesday night; lay overs in Paris and Johannesburg on the way. I'm going alone, but plan to/hope to meet up with Philippe Van Den Bossche, project coordinator for Raising Malawi when in country.

I got my shots earlier this week: Tetanus/Diphtheria and Polio boosters, Hepatitis A, Typhoid and a flu shot to boot. Got a Rx for malaria prevention pills. I remember taking Larium when I went to Peru in 1994, although I hear from Maureen, the owner of the farm-lodge I'm staying at, that Deltaprim or Doxycyline is a better bet. She says she's seen too many side effects of Larium. In fact, the nurse at the health clinic said they don't even prescribe Larium anymore because of the nightmares, hallucinations and other side effects. Instead, she wrote me a Rx for 20 pills of Malarone.

Malaria is preventable. So many diseases are stoppable if we stop them. Here's Jeffrey Sachs on the subject of malaria in Malawi....and AIDS and other things we have no excuse to be so ignorant about any more.

I looked at Malawi/Lilongwe this morning on Google Earth. It's pretty; not far from beautiful Lake Malawi. I have no idea what to expect. And I'm not sure I can ever prepare for this:



In "The End of Poverty", Jeffrey Sachs explains that malaria is transmitted when a female anopheles mosquito takes a blood meal from somebody already infected with malaria. After being ingested by the mosquito, the parasite finds its way to the mosquito's gut. There it undergoes a life-cycle transformation, after which the parasite migrates back to the mosquito's salvary glands, where it can be injected into another victim.

The life-cycle change, called sporogony, takes about two weeks, roughly the life span of the mosquito itself. If the mosquito dies before sporogony is completed, the mosquito never becomes infective.

Transmitting malaria requires two consecutive human bites: the first for the mosquito to ingest the parasite, the second for the mosquito to infect another person.

No children need to die, and none will if they have access to all of the modern tools of disease prevention and treatment. (He's talking about common household insecticides and mosquito nets!!) Yet malaria sets the perfect trap: it impoverishes a country, making it too expensive to prevent and treat the disease. Thus malaria continues and poverty deepens in a truly vicious cycle.

I'm just back from Japan, the last stop on my Asia Pacific travels. I didn't have too much time or energy to site see, but I did see a little.

Tokyo is cool. It's a blending of ancient and new, like this little area squared off among the office buildings.

At first I thought it was a restaurant, but everyone was going up to ring a bell. See all those ropes? When it's your turn, you grab a rope, pull on it to ring a bell, clap twice, and lower your head in a short prayer or wish.

It's my sort of thing. But I didn't do it. I was a little afraid I would do it wrong and piss someone off, conjure a ghost or otherwise wreak havoc on the locals.

Japan strikes me as very serious. Very efficient. Every fifth person you see is wearing a mask, as if they're about to spray paint with a powered aerosol blaster. It's weird. I imagine your nose and mouth sweats. I remember people doing it 10 years ago when I last visited. I guess they are afraid of germs. I don't understand why you would want to live somewhere where you thought you were being poisoned or polluted by going out of your house. I can't imagine they wear those masks in their own houses. Maybe they do. How can you possibly clean all the germs?

Look at this lineup of hot wheels! Lots of people ride bikes.

Oh, and they have these great new toilets in Japan. They're electric with all these buttons on the side: Button 1) Spray this part (visual of a butt). Button 2) Spray that part (visual of, uh, I'm not sure maybe it was the side of a butt.) And there were more buttons. I didn't push any of them. I really am adventurous...but not so much down there on a public toilet. Although, I was pleasantly surprised to sit on one (I lined it, of course) and discover it was heated! I rested on there for an extra minute. Quite relaxing for my jet lagged ass.

Not much else to report in the way of Raising Malawi. I shared a little about the project with my client, we'll call him Ron, and Dan who was traveling from the research company. Ron was so inspired he opened his wallet and slapped down a cool 2o CNY (China Yuan Renminbi). I was excited, happy for the gesture. Dan was pretty quick to point out that it was worth about two and half bucks. Actually, it's $2.57. Alas, enough to treat one child and prevent his or her death from malaria.

I'll add it to the total as soon as I donate it. I think I might kick in a little more to give it a push. Of course, I'm not blown away by the amount, but I remember a kabbalistic lecture from about a year ago. It was about a man who needed money who stepped over a nickel in the street. Why would you do that?! Money is money. It's a sign! It just reminds you that money is there and is abundant. Who am I to turn away money?

And I honestly wasn't working the table for money. I was just sharing about this project and inspired someone to open his wallet and look inside. That's a big deal. And a good sign. So, I will donate this 20 CNY on behalf of my client and let it be a key to the flood gates. A key costs about $2.57. This could be exactly what we needed.

I am planning a trip to Malawi for my birthday -- which is 1/29, in case you celebrate or light commemorative candles or anything. I leave 1/30 and am gone till 2/12.

I don't know what to expect. I like that. And in my heart, it feels right.

I’m in Dehli now. In the land of the world’s second largest population, after China. In India, the Haves really have and the Have Nots really don’t. You can feel the social thermo cline the moment you step out of your hotel.

This is my second trip to India to do research -- once for Nokia, this time for IBM. In both cases, they have a translator in the back room who is translating English into English. It’s the most bizarre thing. Sometimes the English accents are a little heavy (Hindi is the native tongue), so to make sure you’re getting it all, the research company brings in a translator. Our translator tried to translate (er… repeat) everything word for word. It was impossibly annoying! Even the client complained. So we’re getting someone else in tomorrow. Not that I see the point. I really do understand English. It’s so bizarre.

Actually, maybe I don’t. The IT guy just came to my room to fix my wireless connection and he kept asking, “May 17?” I repeated, “May 17?” He said, “Yes. May 17?” I stared at him for 5 or 6 seconds and I finally said, “Oh! May I say something?!” It’s like that. By the way, he wanted to tell me that I look more like a model than a business woman, thank you very much. But it was kind of weird, so I kicked him out of my room before I got the wireless to work.

We’re holding our focus groups at the Intercontinental, Grand Hotel. Marble walls. Glass elevators. Pampered massages and energy readings. High-end luxury mall. Fancy restaurants. It’s really glorious. I’m surprised they don’t have angels flying around mixing cocktails for you.

I’m staying at the Radisson, which is also very nice – nice lobby, decent rooms (It’s all relative). It’s more convenient for me here because it’s much closer to the airport. So, to get to my groups I once again need to brave the traffic and the streets and the poverty.

There are no traffic rules here. Sure, they paint dashed white and solid yellow lines in the road, but I think that’s more for show than anything. Shockingly, I have yet to witness a fatal traffic accident. I’m not being dramatic. Two lanes turn into three…or four…if a car thinks it’s small enough or quick enough or clever enough to squeeze through. People cross the street like deer or frogs bounding and hopping to the other side knowing full well they can get smashed. The windshield of my taxi driver’s car was cracked, so who knows? Maybe people do get killed all the time, but there are too many of them to notice.

I wonder, are there too many of them to care? It’s not rhetorical. It’s a real question. In some ways, I wonder if we don’t just desensitize ourselves because we have to. I don’t know, but I think the Light is trying to tell me something.

Once again, poverty knocked on my car window. This was his face. He was selling little bundles of roses. But what caught my eye was the little rose bundle in his arm. Where does she sleep? Does she have anything to eat? She is so dirty! Who takes care of her? But there are millions of these babies here starving right in front of us. What can I do?

I watched him walk by. He saw me see him. He came around to my side of the car to get close and ask me personally if I wanted to buy roses. I just looked at him. Am I still invisible? How long was this traffic light anyway? He said something in Hindi, I don’t know what, but our language became the same when he pointed to the baby.

I asked myself, should I open the window? Can I really make a difference?

Yes. I rolled down the window. I gave him 100 rupees. That’s it there in his left hand. I pray it multiplies in his life so he can take good care of the baby. (OMG!!!! I just converted this into US Dollars!! I only gave him $2.25. What the hell is he going to do with that?! uhhhhh....anyway, I guess that goes a really long way here.)

As he was giving me my roses, I took this picture of him, with his permission of course. I didn’t want to forget this, and there is so much of it here it is actually easy to not see, to ignore, to forget.

Something is happening to me. I am waking up. I can feel it.

I’m in Shanghai for work. This is the view from my hotel room window. These boats and barges just float by all day, all night. It’s really pretty, actually. I don’t have much time to see the city. I’m sure I’ll come back. After all, China is booming.

Which is really exciting given that China has a population of 1.3 billion people and three-quarters of them still live at the poverty level.

Remember the definition of poverty? It’s living on less than a dollar a day. I reflected on this after a rather upsetting incident on the way to my focus groups. To get to the groups, I had to leave my fancy hotel, the Shangri-La (de-da), and take a taxi across town.

About 15 mins into the drive we got stalled in traffic. I noticed a young boy who was maybe 11 years old walking through the jam of cars shaking a cup. He was cute. Clean. Seemingly healthy. And yet, desperate.

We made eye contact. And then it was over. He made a beeline for my car and started shaking his cup profusely, groaning and whining in a horrible rant – all Chinese, so I have no idea what he was saying -- sort of like Rosie-O’Donnell Chinese without all the references to Danny Devito. He got on his knees in the street, so all I could see was the top of his head and all I could hear was the shaking of the cup and loud, whining, droning pleas.

No. I did not roll down my window and give him money. I did not have change, only bills. I was afraid that as soon as I started to fart around with my wallet in traffic, I risked getting it stolen, or putting the boy in danger if the light changed and I wasn’t quick enough to give him something. I pictured him running barefoot in traffic after my taxi. Plus, I risked making myself a target for the few other beggars who were working the cars. And then there’s reason X. And reason Y. And reason Z.

But to be totally truthful, I did nothing because I felt like it wasn’t entirely my responsibility. It was a choice. 1.) Give. 2.) Don’t Give. In my opinion, the act of giving or not giving doesn’t make you a good or bad person. It’s all consciousness. I didn’t beat myself up about it. But later, I reflected on what was happening in my head.

I noticed I felt invisible. I felt invisible to this boy who looked in my eyes five inches from my face with nothing between us but a window pane. I was protected in my locked taxi, impervious, safe, somehow disconnected from it all.

The only way I know how to stop this feeling of being disconnected and not being able to make a difference is to keep plugging away on my Raising Malawi project. I don’t propose to end poverty by “being nice” -- giving money to every Tom, Dick and Harry in need. Of course, money helps them individually (and sometimes I do give), but we can never end poverty that way.

We have to go to the source. In this poor boy’s case, he lives in a Communist country. But chin up. Times are changing. Chairman Mao died in 1976. Deng Xiaoping stepped in with major the economic reforms of 1978. Everything got turned on its head. Money (and status) is the new Holy Grail. For better or for worse, the economy is booming.

Adweek gave an overview of this “Emerging China” on its cover issue last week. (1/1/07). It’s the first of a three part series. Basically, there’s this big emerging middle class, here. I’m talking about tier-one cities like Shanghai, Beijing and Guangzhou. Adweek explains this generation is living a lifestyle unimaginable as recently as 10 years ago. They own their own cars and homes, use credit, travel outside of China and are fast adapters of consumer electronics and personal technology.

About their homes: The government owned everything just 20 years ago. Now 70 percent is private, which is major progress and big news for the Home Depots of the world. I can’t get that “Movin’ On Up” song out of my head. From the street, these urban homes look like those skyrise apts. from the Jeffersons. And I noticed everyone seems to hang their laundry outside on their decks. Driving past, all I could think about was all the pollution from traffic getting on those clean clothes. I just read that Chinese don’t own driers because they believe the sun sanitizes. They obviously are new to this whole big city-life thing.

It feels like USA1978 to me. Maybe because I was a kid growing up with the same exciting things -- fast food and new technology. My dad constantly reminds me that he shelled out $999 for our VHS player back then. What better way to honor the TV god, whom we devoutly worshiped in my house. My ex-husband’s family bought BETA because the quality was better. Remember that debate? BETA never took off. But it was so exciting to experience new technology and be the first ones on the block to get it. I just set up TiVo this past Christmas. It very much feels like the VHS frenzy.

Back to China. People are not saving here. They spend to assert their status. It’s all about big name brands and getting out and being seen with luxury goods, i.e., sitting in a Starbucks says you have clout. Plus, they believe spending is helping China’s economy. And it is. Materialism and consumerism are taking off big time.

KFC is big here. Even bigger than McDonald’s because consumers prefer chicken. McD’s is responding with more chicken options, but worry not, meat eaters. Beef is a-plenty here, let me tell you. I was talking to my client during groups last night and I put a Chinese sweet in my mouth, which was colorfully wrapped like a hard candy. I had to spit it out the chewed bits two seconds later (very professional!) because, alas -- it was meat! Who eats meat sweets?! Ugh!

You see progress all over Shanghai, China’s most expensive city. And the country is rushing to close the gap between rich and poor by building out/urbanizing the lower tiers so folks can get a foot up on the social ladder. Sentiment here is, the more you have, the happier you feel. And in some ways I think that’s true. I think of it like, the more I have and the more I can share, the happier I feel.

The government has a plan for creating a “financially comfortable society” by 2040. And I think they can do it.

To summarize Jeffrey Sachs (my economist hero), people living at the poverty level need to get a foot on the socio-economic ladder. Help them to the first rung, which they cannot reach without the infrastructure in place, and they will climb. It won’t be easy, but by-God they will climb.

Happy New Year! Literally.
Pictured: Baby Apostles Luke and Matthew, 2001.

Today, concentrate with all your heart on what you want in life. Train your brain to focus on positive goals: I want to be happy, I want to be healthy, I want to be aware. When you do, your whole body will vibrate to this frequency and all negative thoughts and feelings will slowly fade. It's called resonance. Let your body vibrate as a symphony. -Yehuda Berg's Daily Consciousness Tune-up

And if that doesn't work, a cold stiff drink oughta do the trick.

**
We're in the month of Capricorn now. It's one of the three most negative months of the year, energywise. You feeling it? I am. I have so much work to do and I'm finding it very hard to get motivated. Or, I'll take on a project and work it to death and get nowhere with it. It's so frustrating. It's hard to turn it off. I found I wanted to eat a lot today. And drink a lot. I am very proud to say I resisted both urges to numb this feeling. I sucked on a few Tootsie Roll Tootsie Pops instead till the anxiety passed.

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Today is my dad's 60th birthday. I called him to wish him Happy New Year, Happy Birthday. We talked a little about life through the eyes of Bob Silka. It's a scary place.

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He shared with me that if he were dictator of the world, he would put giant clocks everywhere. This way he could know how many more hours, minutes, seconds left till: the weekend...his vacation...his retirement. They don't call him Father Time for nothing.

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I'm no better. (Well, actually, I'm a ton better than him, but whatever) I'm totally wasting time right now. It's hard to get it in gear. Time to shake a leg, baby!

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Happy New Year!