A morning ritual

A few years back, as the missus and I were starting our relationship, I formed a breakfast habit. Each morning I'd rise at or before dawn, feed the ducks and geese, and then prepare breakfast. It was usually a pot of tea and some "corn flakes", occasionally with juice or toast. Sometimes it was eggs. Then Vasco would rise, say "Pagi!" to the flock, and wander out to the kitchen.

Since we so often had visitors for dinner, breakfast was our time together. I would do a brain dump about whatever it was I had been working on, while Vasco would let off a little steam about issues at work. Working in a developing country context, even one as pleasant as Indonesia, can be a hard slog; different culture, different language, "capacity" issues.

Soon our breakfast time became Vasco's anchor, a spot in the day where she could relax, think, plan, talk. And for me it was a little ritual, a small way to demonstrate my love, respect, and commitment every morning.

In Kenya last year, breakfast again became an important part of the day. Once more, Vasco was adjusting to and grappling with the challenges of working in a new cultural environment. Critically, this was also a period when her time was shared between Nairobi and a regional town in southern Somalia. The stress was much higher than in Indonesia, the risks more deadly. It was taking a toll.

I often felt that I had my hands tied behind my back. Vasco would be in-country for days, sometimes a week, without any means of contacting me. Reflecting on that time, I reckon I probably suffered more stress than she did! So when she was home, breakfast became my symbol of love and concern. It was weet-bix, freshly squeezed orange juice, a pot of tea. Simple.

Our departure from Kenya was sudden and sad. Prompted by a security incident in Somalia - one which still haunts us both - we packed up and left in a very short space of time. Vasco's experiences in Somalia soon began to trouble her; scenes of deprivation and starvation, armed violence, fear of kidnap, paranoia.

Even once we were back in Australia - safe, sterile, rich, quiet Australia - these feelings couldn't be shaken. Vasco had learned how to see the world in terms of risks and threats and was having trouble coming down from that heightened level of sensitivity. During the course of her trauma counseling earlier this year, Vasco came to realise that our little morning ritual, our simple breakfast whatever the circumstances, had been one of the few things that had kept her sane during her time in Somalia.

I can't describe how this made me feel.

This morning, Vasco has once again hopped into a pre-dawn taxi and headed off to the airport. So to say goodbye, I got up at stupid o'clock, made a pot of tea, and prepared our little breakfast.

An extra lap

For the first quarter of 2009, I'd been approaching that mythical state of physical health known as Fit As Buggery (FAB). Running, working out, doing other stuff: I was at it regularly and it was paying off.

But I'd forgotten how quickly it gets cold and frosty here in Canberra. And so I have become extremely slack in a very short space of time.

So this arvo I resolved to get back into it. I got home, did some chores, and then slipped into my footy shorts and a t-shirt and headed down to the local oval. It was already bloody chilly, and I had second thoughts.

Then, just before my courage faltered and I headed home for a hot bath and a bowl of soup, I heard kidlets shouting. I heard footies being booted. And then I saw, there on the oval, dozens of little kids, boys and girls, running around in shorts and t-shirts. They were kicking soccer balls and footies, totally oblivious to the cold weather.

I was ashamed.

So I ran my laps. And then I did an extra one. Punishment. It was bloody cold. And all the while I could hear those happy kids, laughing, yelling.

No more sooking for me. Those tough little buggers have inspired me. So I'll be out for a run each evening from now on, no matter how cold it gets. And I reckon it's gunna get pretty bloody chilly.

Loose men everywhere

This arvo I caught my second local footy match of the season. Harman gave Belconnen a bit of a hiding in their third division match. It was a six goal margin in the end, and the Hogs were well in front most of the day.

Still, there was some good footy from both sides and it was an enjoyable match to watch. There were plenty of goals, some of them real rippers from cunning crumb-grabbers, and there were some good strong pack marks, too.

A snippet from me dodgy phone:


From where I stood, among the best on ground for the Hogs was the big fella they call "Killer". But they had solid performers all over the place. For the Maggies, it was the nude nut on the full back line and number thirty in the guts. Plenty more on either side but I don't know their names. Each team had a real dig.

Meanwhile, my poor old Tiges got done again. I took the wireless along with me and intended to listen to the call. The local ABC was only broadcasting the bum-sniffing so I switched it off and concentrated on the match in front of me (and a coupla tinnies). In hindsight, it was just as well.

No news

Over my mid-morning cafe noir today, I flicked through the Herald Sun in search of the world news section. My employer provides hundred of free copies of this brightly-coloured dunny roll reputable daily newspaper. Buggered if I know why.

One of the world stories gave me a bit of a laugh. It was a very brief and unattributed article about Fiji (which is also online).

A daily paper in Fiji has been mocking the government's latest authoritarian antics - kicking journalists out of the country and so on - by publishing "no news" each day. It published a story about paint drying, for example.

The best one was a story about what the paper's staff had eaten for breakfast. One fella said he'd had "left over roti from last night". Love it.

Quite appropriate that the Herald Sun should print it, I reckon.

Fearmongering about Pakistan

Sensationalism:

"We have to face the fact that if Pakistan collapses it will dwarf anything we have seen so far in whatever we're calling the war on terror now," said David Kilcullen, a former Australian Army officer who was a specialist adviser for the Bush administration and is now a consultant to the Obama White House.

"You just can't say that you're not going to worry about al-Qaeda taking control of Pakistan and its nukes," he said.

Rational analysis:

Islamabad controls most of Pakistan - Sindh and Punjab provinces - with an iron fist. Pakistani police and army control most of NWFP. In "separatist" Balochistan there's only 5% of the total population. For Washington to believe that a small, rural, Pashtun tribal agglomeration of bands of a maximum of 30 fighters, with no air force, no heavy artillery and no tanks, could take over a Pakistan with a 650,000-strong well-trained army is an absolutely ridiculous notion. And for Washington to believe - as Holbrooke implied - that a few Pashtun tribals and a few expat jihadis can take on Western civilization as a whole is also an absolutely ridiculous notion.

Remembering

Last week, the people of Rwanda paused to look back on the genocide of 1994. It's impossible to imagine what people must have been thinking and feeling as they reflected upon those horrific events, and it is not surprising that there were reports of people being overcome by emotion, be it anguish or anger. The rest of the world should be looking back at what happened in Rwanda, too. The genocide affected the Rwandan people; the world's response to it affects all of humanity.

If we take a few moments to look back, to ask what lessons we can learn from the events of 1994, we might draw some of the same conclusions as Paul Kagame, the President of Rwanda. Kagame has accused the world of abandoning Rwanda in a time of great need. Others who have examined the genocide have said much the same. The international community, preoccupied with its own interests and reluctant to step into an African conflict, reacted too slowly for the hundreds of thousands of Rwandans who were slaughtered, driven from their homes, and left to die.

Looking back, we might also see that Kagame had a role to play in what occurred in 1994. Today he is the President, but back then he was the head of a rebel army. Kagame's force was not responsible for acts of genocide, but it did carry out abuses of human rights and war crimes. His forces committed massacres, misappropriated humanitarian aid, and targeted civilians and peacekeepers.*

If we look for positives, then we will see the slow, uneven realisation of justice in Rwanda. Some of the major figures in the genocide have long since been tried and sentenced. And the process continues even now: just last week there were more convictions. There will likely be more later this year as the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda nears the end of its mandate. You can read more about the cases before the Tribunal here. The outcome has been imperfect, and reconciliation and sustainable peace requires more than a few criminal sentences, but this is nonetheless an important step toward just peace in Rwanda.

Of course, some of those responsible for killings in 1994 are still at large in eastern parts of neighbouring Congo. Justice may yet catch up with them, too. A military campaign was launched earlier this year to hunt them down and it has had some success.

And what about us here in Australia? What should we be looking back at? In a couple of weeks Australians will observe ANZAC Day, a time to reflect upon those who have served in military action in the past. This year, a tribute is to be paid to those who served as part of INTERFET, the peacekeeping operation in Timor Leste at the turn of this century. Australia does its bit in terms of peacekeeping.

In August 1994, after the genocide had occurred, Australia committed a small contingent to UNAMIR, the UN mission in Rwanda. Politically, Australia acted too late, as much of the world did. Yet those that served nonetheless witnessed scenes that still cause them pain today. You can read an account of their experiences here, and a disturbing eyewitness recollection of a massacre here. When I attend the dawn service on ANZAC Day I'll have them in my thoughts, too.

The Australian contingent's experience is just one more dimension of the tragedy that took place in Rwanda in 1994. There are many more. As we look back we should do our best to see as many dimensions as possible, to learn all that we can.

These are some of the things that entered my mind as I reflected on Rwanda.

* Here I am drawing on Romeo Dallaire's account. I will review his book very shortly.

Can't let this one past

Oh, I get it. If it wasn't for his "white" family then Obama would have been a criminal.

Fuck you, Andrew Bolt.

Update: The word "white" was removed from Andrew's post overnight. I left a comment about the inherent racism of the post and it has not appeared. I shouldn't be surprised by this kind of behaviour anymore.

Kinglake v Emerald

The Victorian towns affected by this summer's ferocious bush fires are undertaking the long process of rebuilding their communities. Naturally enough, sport is playing a part.


Thanks to ABC radio's Bush Telegraph for directing me toward this great story.

A pleasant Sundee arvo

This arvo the missus and I spent a coupla hours at the George Harcourt Inn. I caught up on the footy news and downed a few pints of Old Speckled Hen strong fine ale. And why not?

One crisis after another

Over a year ago I started writing occasional posts about an issue that I felt wasn't getting enough attention: the rise in global prices for staple foods. For a while, the issue was being discussed primarily among United Nations (UN) agencies, aid and development organisations, and activists. Later, it penetrated the world media, and for a few months it seemed everyone was talking about food prices. Given this coverage, I no longer felt the need to write about it. Now, though, as the world's attention shifts to another crisis, I think it's time to revisit the issue of food prices.

Background to the food crisis: origins, impact, and responses

During 2007 and 2008, prices for staple foods such as rice, maize, and wheat increased greatly and at a rapid pace. For some crops, prices doubled in the space of a year or two. This impacted most heavily upon poor people in developing countries, where millions of people moved into a situation of food insecurity; that is, hunger.

There were several contributing factors that led to this situation, some of which were low crop yields, high demand for grain (driven in part by increased meat production in countries like China and India), the rising cost of oil (which impacts upon transport and other costs), and conversion of land to non-food cropping such as bio-fuels.

Governments responded through a variety of measures, such as price controls, farm subsidies, and trade restrictions (tariffs, quotas). Poor people responded, too; they started to grow their own food, reduce the number of meals they ate, or began to eat different (usually less nutritious) foods. Some took to the streets in protest.

For more background information you can't go past this article from IRIN.

The global response to the food crisis

As malnutrition and social unrest continued to rise across the globe, the international community started to take notice and decided to act. A consensus began to develop that recognised that food is not just another commodity in a global marketplace. Food security, and even "food sovereignty", was the term on the lips of politicians and policy-makers of all stripes. There seemed to be some agreement, too, that a coordinated global response was necessary.

So in June 2008, the UN's Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO), which had been warning about an impending crisis since 2006, held a World Food Security conference in Rome. The outcome was a pledge to provide USD1.2 billion worth of food aid to assist developing countries and a plan to increase global food production to the tune of USD15 billion per year for a decade or more.

As Oxfam said at the time, the Rome summit "was an important first step in tackling the food crisis but greater action is now needed to resolve the crisis". So what were the next steps? A Group of 8 (G8) meeting in Japan in July 2008 resulted in further pledges to tackle the food price issue, but no detailed plans were forthcoming. The question of bio-fuels was left unresolved, too.

The other crisis

By late 2008 another world crisis had stolen the limelight from the food price issue. The global financial crisis, which has now become a global economic crisis or "great recession", has demanded the attention of the world's leaders. The global response so far - taking the form of bail-outs, stimulus packages, and other economic measures - is worth trillions of dollars. (See this post by Duncan Green for an example.)

On the surface, the economic crisis should have been a good thing in terms of food prices. Since the middle of 2008, when food prices were at their highest and most dangerous levels, global commodity prices have fallen. In theory this means that food prices have fallen, too, and the millions of people threatened with starvation are now able to eat again. Unfortunately, theory does not match reality. Consumer prices have fallen at a much slower rate than commodity prices, and the Word Food Program (WFP) (which has a dedicated site) expects that prices will remain high through until at least 2015.

The global economic situation will impact upon access to food in other ways. As a global recession leads to unemployment, millions of households will lose the financial capacity to purchase food. The very poor are already so sensitive to price changes that a very small increase in the price of food can push them into malnutrition. The same will apply to a decrease in household income. Likewise, the flow of remittances (money sent home by people working overseas) are a vital safety net for many in the developing world, and these flows are already starting to dry up.

The new crisis is compounding the old.

Earning your loaf

It's hard to fully understand the global food situation when you live in a rich country like Australia. Here, the price of a bag of rice didn't double in twelve months. The price of bread hasn't tripled. Crop failure doesn't mean starvation; at worst, it means there are no bananas at Woolworths for a few weeks.

And food isn't expensive in Australia. While discussing our future plans to become self-sufficient in fruit and vegetables, the missus pointed out that, even if we produced all our own food, it represents such a small part of our budget that it wouldn't make much difference in terms of our household finances. The same cannot be said for millions of people around the world today for whom food is a major component of household expenditure (and therefore one of the first things to suffer when times are tough).

An example might demonstrate the importance of food to those less well-off than us. We have a good friend in Nairobi, Kenya, and we stay in touch by email. She wrote recently about starting her new job. She doesn't like it much, but realises that in the current climate she is lucky to have found a job at all. When describing her pay packet, she says it is "only a half loaf, but better than no loaf".

As we read the news about crisis after crisis, it is important to be mindful that millions of people right now are getting by on only half a loaf.

Such impatience

There are plenty of cars on the road at this time of day. I guess there are a lot of people who, like me, are lucky enough to knock off work at a reasonable hour. And, like me, many of them have no more than a half-hour drive home.

So why are they all speeding?

In a ninety zone this afternoon, when I was doing around ninety-five myself, cars shot past me. Some of them must've been doing a hundred and ten. What's the rush when you are home from work at four thirty anyway?

I don't get it.