I approached Mr. Richie after class and asked him if it would be alright if I sat in on the class. He looked a bit distressed and asked if I would be doing the course work. I said that didn’t really matter to me. I just wanted to come to the course every week and listen to his lectures.
Richie loved the Japanese cinema. His lecture style was so un-alienating that one couldn’t help but love it, too. He would present the films in a manner that made them entirely foreign and unique products of the particular culture that produced, but simultaneously fit them squarely in a worldwide tradition of movies. He would present his lecture on the movie of the week, then we would watch the film in a theater, where he would deliver an abridged version of his Tuesday lecture for people who didn’t have the pleasure of attending his class. I think I learned more about art, cinema, media, culture, social science, the humanities and politics in that one 7 week course that I did in the entire remainder of my undergraduate education.
The time for the first mid term came, and I sat for it. Richie came up to me again with a distressed look on his face and stuttered, “A-a-are you taking this c-course for c-c-credit?” I said no, but asked him if I could take the exam anyway. He looked stressed but said yes, no problem. The following week, when he passed back the exams, he had thoughtfully commented on my work, writing more than a page of notes, ending with “If I were grading this, I would give you an A+. Good work.” When the time for the final exam came, the entire incident was repeated. To this day, I’m not sure why my not officially signing up for the course stressed him so. Perhaps he had too many students. I would like to think that he was trying to be meticulous and follow the rules to the letter, which was rather uncharacteristic of a man who flouted so many rules in his lifetime. Perhaps Japan had rubbed off on him more than he cared to consider (though there was no sucking of air through teeth).
I would see him on the street and he would always say hello. I regret not engaging him more while he was there, but it’s hard to just approach someone when you’re a starstruck kid. I later learned that he had a terrible time in Michigan, mainly because the stodgy faculty in the Japanese studies department would take him out on the town in neighboring Ypsilanti. I wish I would have known.
Shortly after that, I became more and more immersed in Japanese cinema studies and decided that I wanted to go to Japan and eventually pursue a graduate degree in the field (I didn’t do the latter). I arranged for a job teaching English conversation in Osaka (with the help of a friend), and left for Japan in November of 1996. It was there that I started speaking Japanese on a daily basis, and met my wife, who still puts up with my abhorrent command of the language.
If I had not taken Richie’s course, I don’t think I would have gone to Japan. It can’t be said that life would have been better or worse had I not gone, but it certainly would have been very different, and probably a little less interesting and certainly minus a life partner. For this, I am entirely grateful for Donald Richie’s existence and wholly sad for a great man’s passing.
Richie made experimental films in the 1960′s. This is one of them:
Andrew WK is a rock star, composer, motivational speaker, Taco Bell enthusiast, television host, inventor and (very) part-time painter based in NYC.
Andrew was a student of mine (I gave him an A- and got him grounded) when I was doing a volunteer teaching gig at Community High School in Ann Arbor, MI in 1994. We became acquainted, played in a couple of bands together, and later I put out a couple of his records on my BULB record label. Most important to me, however, is that he’s a good friend.
A couple of weeks ago, it was suddenly announced that Andrew would be serving as a “United States’ Cultural Ambassador to the Middle East.” Andrew would be travelling to the Kingdom of Bahrain on behalf of the US State Department, where he would be spreading his positive “Party” philosophy (the freak out, good time sort, not the divisive Democratic/Republican kind). Not more than 24 hours after I heard the announcement, however, news appeared stating that the entire trip had been cancelled. Many of us were scratching our heads, wondering if the entire thing was a stunt. Fans of AWK have been known to start and passionately spread odd rumors in the past.
However, several media outlets ran articles that included a transcript where a representative of State mentioned the trip and its subsequent cancellation. The State rep was quoted as saying “There may have been some preliminary conversations with him, but he will not be going to Bahrain on the U.S. government’s dime.” Andrew’s scheduled trip to represent the US was very real.
Bahrain is a particularly troubled place right now. Protests have rocked the tiny, oil-rich nation but the heavy handed monarchy has managed to brutally stifle much of it. Bahrain’s human rights record has been described as “dismal” by Human Rights Watch. Sending someone like Andrew, whose positive, self made image very much represents the ideals of liberal, free market democracy would actually be a perfect choice to represent the US in this difficult time.
Perplexed the whole thing, I decided to reach out to Andrew and get the full story. Andrew was kindly able to take some time out to answer some questions about the incident. First, I would like to thank Andrew. Here’s the interview:
A: We were cold called, but there had been some murmuring about me traveling abroad in some capacity for a few years. We first officially heard from the State Dept. on September 13th, 2011. That was when they wrote to us with an official invitation reading, “Department of State sponsored trip to Bahrain for motivational speech”.
FB: I’ve read that someone from Bahrain specifically made a request to the Embassy there.
A: We had never heard anything about the trip being requested by a citizen of Bahrain, but I had heard rumors from my managers that they were approached about an entertainment project with the U.S. government. We didn’t know what it was exactly until we got the official invitation. It was always presented as a government sponsored event to spread good will and cultural exchange between the U.S. and the middle east. The people who I work with and who help plan my career have always worked on ways to help further the cause of uniting different cultures and promoting the coming together of the human race. I’ve followed and embraced that spirit for a long time and definitely want to do right by them. This was a natural step in that larger effort. Western culture is very powerful.
FB: How far along was the planning?
A: The planning was a long process that went on for about 14 months. There were many levels of approval and clearance we had to go through on both the U.S. and Bahrainian sides. We just did what we were asked to do and completed all they requested with respect and cooperation. There were some background checks, but it seemed the State Dept. had already done a huge amount of research on me before hand. Most of the details were planned with my handlers and managers without my direct involvement. The plane tickets were booked for our trip to officially begin on December 1st, 2012. We coordinated the flights and travel details with the U.S. Embassy in Bahrain and left them completely in charge of all the on-location details.
A: We had our last planning phone call on Wednesday, November 21st, 2012. That’s when our State Dept. contact went over the final schedule and explained that I should officially announce the trip to the public. He explained what language to use and the overall tone of the trip and the ideals we would be promoting. I never actually met anyone in person from the State Dept. Everything was done either on the telephone or the computer. In 2003, I had been given a private tour of the White House by an ex-Secret Service official who was very passionate about my work and music. It’s possible that he was the one of the folks that first helped introduce the State Dept. to my work as a motivational speaker. Otherwise, I don’t know how they picked me specifically. That’s been really perplexing, but I didn’t think about it too much at first. I was just so excited to be asked. But once they canceled everything, I obviously have been trying to figure out what this whole thing is really about.
FB: Did State set up an itinerary?
A: Yes. We were sent the official itinerary by the State Dept. at approximately 6am on Monday, November 26th, 2012. The plans for the trip had always been based around lectures and motivational speeches at local schools. There was never a public concert planned, although we had plans to “jam” with some of the local musicians in Bahrain at a rehearsal space and music store. The main bulk of the trip was to be spent focused on positive interactions with the young people of Manama, the capital city. I planned on talking about positive thinking, making the most of one’s life, embracing freedom, and using partying to help forget your troubles. The State Department gave me overall guidelines, but were also very open to allowing me creative control when it came to how I would present our ideals and how I would present myself. They were always very familiar with what I do – that’s why they came to us in the first place – and they were certainly made even more familiar with me during the lengthy year-plus process of planning and clearance.
At about 11am on the same day we were sent the official itinerary, our State Department contact called us in a panic with the news that his “higher ups” canceled the entire trip for unknown reasons. Apparently it went far up the chain and a lot of people were getting in trouble, even to the point of being fired over this project.
A: It was explained to me that there was a passionate rock and metal scene in Bahrain. I had heard similar reports from others about there being lots of loud music fans in the more liberal parts of the Middle East. I was planning on playing some drums and keyboard and just making up songs or playing songs that we all could learn together. It was all very open to spontaneity. However, the State Dept. also made it very clear that the musical parts of the trip were secondary to the speaking engagements. It was always explained to me that the main goal was for me to help foster a positive impression of the U.S. in the minds of students and the people of Bahrain at large.
FB: How did it all start to fall apart? What happened?
A: It all happened very fast. Everything was good to go up until that Monday morning, after we received the itinerary. In that window of time between 6am and 12 noon, something happened and it has still yet to be explained what exactly it was, beyond that “higher up” State Dept. officials had changed their mind and now decided I was not an appropriate person to represent the U.S. as a Cultural Ambassador. It’s still not clear why they had this change of heart at the last second after they had invited me and spent a year carefully planning my trip. We had flights booked and the trip was less than a week away.
Some have said it was canceled because we announced the trip to the public, but I was encouraged to announce the trip by the State Dept. directly. The whole idea of my Cultural Ambassadorship was to generate public interest and excitement about the meeting of our two cultures. It was never meant to be a secret event – that would have defeated the entire point.
In the days since the cancellation, I’ve received inside tips that there was a passionate debate in the State Dept. about my going at the last second. It’s possible that someone outside of the State Dept. who wasn’t aware of the trip initially became incensed that they weren’t informed before. Apparently some of these unknown higher-up officials were on my side and others were deeply offended by the idea of me going. It would still be nice to learn exactly what happened and who specifically pulled the plug. I’m not taking it personally. For all I know, they could be protecting my own safety. Maybe there were threats, related or unrelated to the trip. It’s definitely confusing and kind of feels like a dream – like there was some other aspects to this project that maybe we didn’t understand or weren’t told about. I’m still as much in the dark as anyone.
FB: Bahrain is a pretty troubled place right now. I’m surprised that State was willing to send anyone over there. Did you have any reservations about going? We know from your live shows that you aren’t concerned about personal safety, of course. It could be suggested that the US would be supporting a repressive state, which some people might have trouble with. Was this ever in the conversation?
A: In the months leading up to the trip, I’ve learned a lot more about the complicated situation in Bahrain. I was definitely looking forward to getting an in-person view of what’s been going on and get a clearer impression of their land and their issues. Since I was going there to spread positivity on behalf of the U.S., it’s definitely been interesting and also concerning that I may have been used as some sort of pawn in a larger game to distract from the potentially bad situations. My handlers insisted that I would be safe and that the U.S. and Bahrain had a good relationship. I was going in the name of supporting that relationship and was expected to support a positive view of both countries.
Some of what’s been most confusing about this is wondering how it’s connected to earlier projects we’ve been a part of, and if I was chosen for reasons that aren’t as obvious, or weren’t openly explained to me. Kim Kardashian had been scheduled to visit Bahrain the same weekend we were there. She wasn’t formally sent by the U.S., but she was there to promote an American milkshake company. Apparently there were protests to her visit and some controversy in advance to her arrival. Some have speculated that maybe the State Dept. canceled my official Ambassador trip because it coincided with her unofficial visit. Of course, she has every right to visit with or without government sponsorship on our side, but it would be unusual to think of the State Dept. not wanting me to be there at the same time as her.
A: In the past week, we’ve received an incredible outpouring of support, especially from folks in Bahrain and the Middle East that had been looking forward to this trip. It’s been really moving and has definitely motivated us to find a way to go there with or without the support of my own country. We’re working on it. I’ve never been to the Middle East and really want to go.
FB: I could only find information on one other Cultural Ambassador, and that was Kareem Abdul Jabbar. How does it feel to almost have been in a club with the famous star of the seminal cinematic work, “Airplane“?
A: Kareem Abdul Jabbar is amazing and I’ve always loved him – his basketball legacy, and his work as an entertainer are awesome examples of America at its best. It’s been a real privilege to even imagine sharing some sort of place with him and other ambassadors in the history of U.S. culture. It seems like these are opportunities for us to show the world what this country can offer and to help unite more people together in the spirit of freedom and a shared global purpose.
FB: It’s great to have talked to you again after so many years. Were you OK after Hurricane Sandy? Did you eat any sand?
A: It’s wonderful to talk with you too, Pete! We were OK during Sandy, thank you. I always eat a bit of sand every few days, just for the earthy taste and texture. I’ve loved dirt eating since I was about 6 years old. I strongly recommend people try it at least once in their life. Party Hard Forever and stay strong!
PARTY HARD FOREVER
It has been reported that one of my heroes, Denis Mukwege, has survived an assassination attempt today in the DRC. Dr. Mukwege runs a clinic in Kinshasa which specializes in reconstructive surgeries for vaginal trauma in women who have been raped in the ongoing conflict in the DRC.
Mukwege has performed more than 20,000 surgeries on women, but has recently moved on to speaking out against the conflict on the world stage. He often publicly points to the DRC government and the the government of Rwanda as fostering conditions that put Congolese women in danger.
Recently, he spoke before the UN and accused DRC President Joseph Kabila as being complicit. Apparently, someone was listening and sent gunmen out to murder him today. His guard was killed but Mukwege survived the attack.
I had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Mukwege about two years ago. I’m glad to see that he’s alive to fight another day for the women of the DRC.
A couple of days ago, I wrote about prices in the local market. In that post there were some pictures of some local sellers. To be fair, I printed them out and took copies to the people in the pictures as a way of saying thanks. Prints are cheap, and people get excited about having pictures of themselves around. It’s a small price to pay for invading someone’s space for a while.
Someone saw me giving out copies and pretty soon nearly the entire market was asking to have their picture taken. In Malawi, taking pictures in a market is a big no-no. Here it’s entirely ok.
Photographing people in a crowded market in the middle of the day is kind of a challenge and, to be honest, I don’t like having my camera out in the open. It draws attention and attracts young thieves. I’m consoled, though, by newspaper reports of market thieves being burned alive (whatever you do, don’t Google it).
Upon first looking at the pictures, I was fairly underwhelmed. Shots of people I’ve had the chance to speak to are always far better than just shots of people I don’t know at all; the story is everything. I must have shot nearly 50 people in a span of 3 minutes so there really wasn’t much time for conversation. To me, these were just some rushed shots of some random people in the market.
However, looking at them again, I discovered something interesting. I realized that every single one of the people in the pictures made a point of demonstrating their trade, or wanted themselves to be featured at their stand clearly identifying themselves as the owners.
All of them took the time to make themselves look good before having their picture taken. Some put on their “uniform,” which was usually an apron. A few even went out of their way to look like they were passing goods to customers, emphasizing that they are merchants who believe in what they sell.
Nearly all of the vendors in the market are women. Some are in their 80′s. Some are just kids. Some have small children with them. All of them appear to know each other well. Almost none of them speak English, indicating that few have been to school.
It’s clear from the pictures that every one of the market vendors is immensely proud of what they do, even if its just selling a few tomatoes, having a small cooking oil stand or dealing in kitchen goods. I’m certainly not denigrating market sellers, but the level of pride evident in this small, out of the way market in this isolated corner of the planet was pretty inspiring.
Like other islands, the people make their living almost entirely through fishing. Small scale fisherman capture Nile Perch, Tilapia and catfish, bring them back to community fishing boards, which then sell them to larger brokers, which then take them to the notorious (and mysterious) “factory.” The “factory” then filets the fish and sells them to European and American dealers. The welfare of this tiny island depends entirely on the whims of hungry Europeans. The global economy starts on islands like Sucru.
In contrast with the other islands, however, the locals appear to eat some of what they catch. In fact, I assume that the majority of what they eat comes straight from the water. I could see absolutely no evidence of agriculture of any kind on this tiny island. The result is that the residents of the island appear quite well fed, some are even fat, but clearly lack essential vitamins due to their monotonous diet.
Housing conditions are miserable, and, like many islands here, sanitation is quite poor. About twenty years ago, a group came and installed a septic and well system to try to keep the locals from openly defecating and drinking their own sewage, but the system appears to have never been used. Like most areas around Lake Victoria, people prefer to crap in the bushes over a formal toilet. The result is that diarrheal disease is constant, and children live in states of vastly poor health.
Though only having a handful of residents, malaria is endemic to the island. Black mambas (considered the most dangerous snake in the world) are also native and live in plentiful numbers. We found a freshly killed one on a rock.
Safari ants are also plentiful. A few crawled up my pant leg and drew blood. I can be seen in one of the pictures picking them off myself. I think everyone had their pants off at some point picking off ants.
Despite all the challenges, the locals are incredibly kind (like many people around the lake), appear quite happy and don’t mind being photographed. They laugh hysterically at my rudimentary (though improving) command of the Luo language.
Here are some more pictures. I mostly took these on a morning walk.
Of note was the picture of an amorous male donkey terrorizing the females in a local market. The incident stopped traffic, left a fruit stand in ruins, and knocked at least three people down into the dust. Even the furious beatings of the locals couldn’t stop the donkey, which is notorious for causing chaos on this end of town.
I’m too busy writing other things to actually write anything for this blog, so my two readers will have to suffice with pictures.
Right now, I’m in Mbita, Kenya, located in Nyanza Province. The area is known to be one of the least developed places in all of Kenya, but has to be one of the friendliest. It’s not hard to find someone to talk to, and even easier to get their picture. Most times, they ask you to take one.
We’ve started our visits to drug shops in this region of Tanzania, which mostly entails sitting alongside interviews in Swahili and waiting long hours for customers to show up. It’s a national holiday so everyone must be busy attending to children at home, cause noone seems to be interested in buying pharmaceuticals today.
This village sits on the outskirts of Sumbwanga town in Rukwa Region. The local economy is based on agricultural trade and local buying and selling of goods available anywhere in Sub Saharan Africa. The market consists of the usual fare, soap, haircuts, soft drinks and beer, but sports a variety of dried fishes and local fruits. I pass on the dried fish as delectable as it looks. The omelet with French fries is also out, sad to say. The oranges, no problem.
Like most places in Africa, people are very kind and will repeatedly thank you making the long journey to their very small and mostly unknown village. Here, so close to friendly and peaceful hotspots like Malawi and Zambia, extreme kindness is a given.
The only business here is small business. Like everywhere in Africa, businesses are informal, sole proprietorships. The drug shops are no exception. I spoke with two shop owners today, both were trained as nurses, but left public service to open or work at small drug shops.
The relationship of drug shops with the public system is worth noting. As the public system in Tanzania relies completely on government revenue and donor aid to function, drugs are often unavailable. In theory, this opens a market opportunity for private shops but in reality it appears that public employees are funneling drugs to shops they have a stake in, as a recent scandal has unveiled.
I spoke with a gentleman today who may be considered exceptional, but likely isn’t. 20 year old Charles, living in an extremely remote town worked burning charcoal for pennies, saved his earnings and opened a small shop, debt free. Now he sells soap, cooking oil and single cigarettes from a small storefront adjacent to one of the drug shops we visited. He would like to save his money and open a shop which sells lights, generators and electrical goods aimed at other shops.
One common misconception about Africa is that Africans lack an entrepreneurial spirit. Far from it, what they actually lack is capital.
All Africans are entrepreneurs. Americans on the other hand mostly just draw paychecks.
I would talk of deep conversations with Shuji, but the truth is that I only heard him speak once. Despite his apparent linguistic reticence, Shuji was no shut-in. He would kindly greet me with a wave and a nod whenever I saw him, would come out to shows that my band played, and generally treat me and every one else as a friend. Shuji was a constant mystery, though it was impossible to say that he was anything but kind.
The last time I saw Shuji was last year, when I was visiting Osaka, which, as would happen, was the single time I heard his voice. He was busy fighting cancer, but still made a point to leave the house and visit his friends. He had ridden in on a small motorcycle that a social services group had provided him to help him get around. I seem to remember that we chided him for not wearing a helmet.
Apparently, he maintained his quiet but outgoing demeanor until his final days. Eizo contacted me a few weeks ago and asked that I send Shuji a BULB Tshirt immediately, indicating that he wanted one. It’s an odd last request, but I was incredibly honored to do so for a good friend and a generally amazing guy.
I’m happy to have shared this earth with Shuji and happier that I had the opportunity to meet him. I’m sure that everyone he knows is thinking the same thing. He will be sorely missed on my next trip to Osaka.
My good friend Kathleen recently picked up a job at the World Bank. She used to work at National Geographic. Getting jobs at really interesting and amazing places is a symptom of having a great personality and living in Washington D.C.
Recently, she sent me a note telling me how great the food at the Bank is. This is the week of the World Bank/IMF spring meetings (please get me tickets) so, to celebrate, I asked her to write a short piece about it. Next time I go to D.C., lunch will be at the Bank, preferably with Kathleen and Jim Young Kim, listening to the beautiful sounds of an employed piano player two floors up.
Anyway, here’s her mouth-watering piece on eating at the World Bank:
Many office buildings house a small store where you can buy soda, gum, and chips. At the World Bank, that store has espresso, refrigerator magnets, and wine. The last thing I bought there was a cucumber, mint, feta cheese tabouleh wrap. And a bag of chips. Well, no, no chips.
The cafeteria at the Bank is famous. Google has an autocomplete for it. It has a Yelp page. You use real plates and cutlery. So grab a tray and come with me! The first station is called whole+sum. You pick a protein and two veggies. Today’s are
—Green Chile Chicken Stew with Potatoes & Peanuts
—*Spicy Black Bean Chili with Lime Crema
—Fresh Tilapia in Rich Mole
—*Poblano Brown Rice & Beans
—*Farro Salad with Orange Cumin Dressing
—*Cilantro Jicama Slaw
—*Grilled Pineapple Wedge with Honey & Lime
—*Romaine Lettuce, Mango, Red Onions, Radishes & Buttermilk Avocado Salad Dressing
The asterisks above and the cards by the food indicate what is veggie and what has pork. Today’s general theme is Cuba. The “Global” station is serving “ropa vieja, pollo a la babacoa, moros y cristianos, yuca frita with mojo sauce, jicama salad with avocado, and ensalada rusa.” For the rest of the week we will be seeing jicama. They will work leftovers into the salad bar and sandwiches. (The World Bank building itself is built from buildings they’ve used since the 1940s. Use leftovers.)
The soup station has four kinds. Because this is the World Bank (did she just say “Je prends un bento box,” working three languages?), the stations are named South Asian & African, Pacific Rim, Quiche, Noodle Bowl, Good (“A new station that is good for you, your neighbor, the community, and the planet” that today features lemon herbed chicken, sockeye salmon with herbs de Provence, gingered ahi tuna, beef with cracked pepper and garlic, sage citrus pork [contains pork]), Mediterranean Flatbreads, Pizza, Deli, Everything Vegetarian, Sushi/Sashimi/Bento Box, Salad Bar. The desserts are what you would see at a Paris bakery. There is a frozen yogurt station. At the cashier station, there are cookies, apples, and wine. (I figure this is a French thing. It’s the second most-heard language in the hallways. France is a country that “graduated” quickly from being a recipient of funds to being a donor.)
Each station expands with ever-changing flavors. My Czech teammate, who is studying Chinese, often gets ramen at the Noodle Bowl. You get two or three noodles to choose from, two or three broths (today it’s red coconut curry or tom yum), chopped tofu and green onions, and all that stuff. Three kinds of flatbread at that station. Ever-rotating African street/comfort food.
The building takes up an entire city block. The dining hall nearly does. Because the selections are so many and the dining room so vast, there is a waiting area just past the cashiers. I don’t know how the cashiers do their job, but the food is simply and very reasonably priced (often by whether or not there is meat) and the cashiers are reliably cheerful.
They have eliminated single-serving condiment packets; the waiting area is where you get Sriracha for your noodles, vinegar for your pommes frites. The takeout containers and cutlery are biodegradable.
The walls of the main dining room feature doors of the world. They are beautiful, painted, carved, mostly wood. Many must be surprised to find themselves in a D.C. basement after so many years on a farm in Kazakhstan or a temple in Malaysia. If you don’t want to eat in the main dining hall, you can eat on a bridge over a pool or on a mezzanine. From the mezzanine you can enjoy the sounds of a player piano two stories up.
The diversity continues: There are children. The Bank has daycare and many kids get to have lunch with their parent. Got a picky eater? Take him to the World Bank cafeteria.