So, I know it’s been a very long time.  I have a head full of excuses, but not a one to extend them to.  No harm, just foul. 

Between a lot of moments and now, here’s to, well, now.

I saw early on, still just a medical student, the panicky dead-end faced by so many of the destitute sick: a young woman dying in childbirth; a child writhing in the spasms of a terrible disease for which a vaccine has existed — for more than a century; a friend whose guts were irreparably shredded by bacteria from impure water; an 8 year old caught in cross-fire. Li mouri bet — what a stupid death, goes one Haitian response.

Fighting such “stupid deaths” is never the work of one, or even of a small group. I’ve had the privilege of joining many others providing medical care to people who would otherwise not be able to get it. The number of those eager to serve is impressive, and so is the amount that can be accomplished. I believe that stupid deaths can be averted; we’ve done it again and again. But this hard and painful work has never yet been an urgent global priority.

The fight for health as a human right, a fight with real promise, has so far been plagued by failures. Failure because we are chronically short of resources. Failure because we are too often at the mercy of those with the power and money to decide the fates of hundreds of millions. Failure because ill health, as we have learned again and again, is more often than not a symptom of poverty and violence and inequality — and we do little to fight those when we provide just vaccines, or only treatment for one disease or another. Every premature death, and there are millions of these each year, should be considered a rebuke.

I know it’s not enough to attend only to the immediate needs of the patient in front of me. We must also call attention to the failures and inadequacy of our own best efforts. The goal of preventing human suffering must be linked to the task of bringing others, many others, into a movement for basic rights.

The most vulnerable — those whose rights are trampled, those rarely invited to summarize their convictions for a radio audience — still believe in human rights, in spite of — or perhaps because of — their own troubles. Seeing this in Haiti and elsewhere has moved me deeply and taught me a great deal.

I move uneasily between the obligation to intervene and the troubling knowledge that much of the work we do, praised as “humanitarian” or “charitable,” does not always lead us closer to our goal. That goal is nothing less than the refashioning of our world into one in which no one starves, drinks impure water, lives in fear of the powerful and violent, or dies ill and unattended.

Of course such a world is a utopia, and most of us know that we live in a dystopia. But all of us carry somewhere within us the belief that moving away from dystopia moves us towards something better and more humane. I still believe this.

Independently produced for Weekend Edition Sunday by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman with John Gregory and Viki Merrick

Each moment I give in
I kill myself more
I give up one more moment to give back
I forfit my chances

I keep fading when I think I’ve found a new bright color;
I keep falling when I think I’ve discovered a new nook

I’m failing, falling, crawling back to infancy
Back to dependency
Oh! to be birthed again
What I would give to forget
What wouldn’t I give to remember, to know how to live again

Erin McCarley’s “Pony (It’s Okay)”

  *i will upload the actual song when I get back

Peace :: Love

 If we spent only a few minutes on something we find to be outrageous everyday, what would become of it?  Would those moments be enough to collective create ripples, maybe even cause an ocean to swell.  They’ve told us stories about the ‘flutter-effect’ of butterflies.
Ha-bitch-u-all tendencies.  Humans- ”there are humans on Mt. Warning”

Hutch sold his jeep, and will be leaving soon.  I wish I was going with him.

I once had a peace at heart- now pieces and pieces

I have a job that last from 9 to 6 – sometimes at night I play with tables and work for tips

The mornings are full of white and brown boxes

It makes me want to run

I used to have patience – need pay-stubs

This place is cutting into me – busting open new wounds and pushing on old bruises

Hurry and appriciate

What happened to breathing, to the thankful heart- giving without recieving?

There is an endless hunger; an empty well- a place of wishes

I’ve gotta’ go

*breaths in deeply…*sigh…It feels good to be here.

Stina and her cool, pink, waterproof stopwatch helped me discover something about myself I not only did not relize, but I find pretty dern rad. That is, I can hold my breath for at least 2 minutes and 16 seconds under water.  I believe I could go longer.  …so, what can one do with good lung capacity???  Suggestions are welcome.

Oh!  Another cool thing about this afternoon… I got to see Mai, and she was eating a TUNA FISH SANDWHICH!    I hope we can actaully hang out sometime soon.  Me misses Mai…

Graduation is just around the corner (or a couple corners, but I was trying to be optimistic), and I’m SO ready for some sunshine. 

I plan to head back to the ‘ol homested for a couple of weeks to help my mom around the house.  My sister’s baby is due on the 25th of May too.  I want to be available in any sort of support fashion for my her, the grandma, and the rest of the fam.  

Last Friday was the Hotel Cafe Tour concert.  I actually have a few pictures…I’ll plan to upload them sometime soon…when I don’t have to be up before 5AM to go to work.

The rest of the weekend was spent in the Santa Cruz area.  It was SO beautiful, SUNny and refreshing.  My allergies went all crazy, and I disturbed the prof. sleep with nasal snorage from them… yooops. Um…Yay for awesome watersheds, healthy riparian environments, dendrology, riding on mini-trains, wood cutting/logging contests, running 8 miles, getting lost, eating dust, smelling funny all day, getting pisses that I have to come back to book land, seeing the yellow flowered Santa Cruz beach fields, making a smores with peanut butter cups rather than regular chocalate bars, the dog Bella, home cooked Thai food, boys with tight curls, boys from Martinez, siviculture, uneven forestry managemnet, siviculture dynamics, graduate students from Cal Poly, pregnant cows, runny cow shit, Deor’s cd mixes, John’s IPod shuffle (thanks again), mini apples, little boys on little trains with duck pasifiers and their USF alumni mothers, ocean side cliffs, beach sunsets, the Astro Van team, “episodes”, Travis- the photographer, Thaiwanese wives, relish, yerts, green towls, teail mix (as always), sunhats on girls with beauty marks, and Nettles (not so much the last one).

Awww…yes… ”The sun will come out tomorrow, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there’ll be sun…”

I have a paper, meeting, and studying for an exam…all this must be dominated tomorrow.  That means…I really need to go now.

Boa Noite lindos pelo mundo.