The Price of Privilege
Posted on May 12, 2013
Above: Circa 2009, Elsa and Marcos after receiving a present from their Nana — it didn’t take much to make them happy.
The other day Karan and I saw something on the news about the Dominican Republic. We saw a picture of a rainy, flooded street and it brought back a rush of memories for us both of living there. We felt wistful.
When the moment passed I said to Karan in a quiet voice “I know you miss living there.”, to which he nodded silently, and I said “Me too.”
So why do we miss a place with so many problems, problems which are as clear in our memory as everything that is good? I know my reasons, I wrote about them long ago in my post Life in High-Definition Video but I was curious what Karan’s reasons were. The first, and really only reason he gave was “People are happy.” How true.
It is a conundrum that is not unique to the Dominican Republic. The poorer the country, the less they have on average, the happier the people seem to be. I remember this as a child when I visited Haiti. The children we are all smiling, flashing their brilliant white teeth against their dark skin, playing with sticks and scrap metal. Most of the children had no shoes, dirty clothes and swollen bellies from lack of proper nutrition. As I child myself, I only saw smiling faces, children full of joy and it made me happy.
Dominicans, by contrast, have more than Haitians and it is “happiness quotient” is therefore a little lower. Within the Dominican Republic, it is the upper class, the privileged, who complain more, who dwell on the negative. But the poor, who have the greatest reasons to be unhappy, find joy in every day things from a cool breeze which relieves from the blistering midday heat, to their favorite song playing on the radio.
The United States is a far more privileged country than the Dominican Republic or any other third world country and our unhappiness reflects this. We don’t appreciate that we have running water, electricity, maintained roads, public libraries, good schools…no, we don’t even think about these things and instead complain about any glitch or bump in our day. This goes back to my theory that all Westerners should live in a third world country for at least 3 months to give them some perspective.
It just seems that, on average, the less one has, the less one needs to make one happy and by contrast, the more one has the more one needs for that same happiness. The people in poor countries do not dwell on the difficulties of their life, difficulties that in many ways they are powerless to change, instead, they celebrate the little things in their life that are good. We can all learn from this.
Me, in the hospital when I was 2 years old.
Although as American, I am privileged compared to someone in the third-world, by American standards, my upbringings were far from privileged. Yet, for the most part, it was a happy childhood. Both parents were artists, divorced, and broke. There was lots of turmoil, little money and in the mix was the problems with my legs which kept me in the hospital most of my youth. But although there are memories that are painful, there are others that shine and those are the ones I cherish. People used to say how awful it must have been to have to spend so much time in the hospital. But all I had to do was look to the left or the right and see a kid, a fellow patient, who was worse off. This perspective is not because I am so much more empathic than others, it is because I saw, literally, children who faced much greater challenges than mine and I thought to myself that I should be grateful.
My experiences continued to draw me to challenges, to people in situations far worse than mine and that is, in part, why I moved to the Dominican Republic.
In my time living in the Dominican Republic, I went from a somewhat privileged life where I had a big apartment in the central part of town. One room with air-conditioning (a real luxury there) nearly 24/7 power and water. Then times got tough and the peso lost nearly all its value, trading from 25 pesos to $1 when I moved there to 50:1. I billed in dollars so all my clients put their projects on hold which effectively took away all my income. I was pregnant with my son at the time.
I moved, out of necessity, to “que lado”, the eastern part of the capital. The house was nice but it was in a “barrio”, poor neighborhood with dirt roads and burning trash piles. My first week there the power was out for 3 days straight. When the power went out there was also no water as the pump didn’t run. I had to heave 5 gallon buckets of water out of the cistern. I was 6-months pregnant and the father was never there. I was alone in a foreign country, pregnant and vulnerable, with limited power and water, in a neighborhood I didn’t even dare to walk around.
But because I was pregnant I kept my spirits up. I wanted to bring my son into the world with joy in my heart. Life was tough and lonely there but I reminded myself that I had chosen to move to the Dominican Republic and I needed to take the good with the bad. I reminded myself once again to be grateful for what I could — the beautiful baby inside me.
My mother kissing my newborn son in the house way out in “que lado”.
I lived there for a year and a half. Ever so slowly business picked up, life got better and finally I made just enough money to move back to the center of the capital. Oh did I appreciate the little things then. Even if the power went out, there were places to go with light instead of the entire neighborhood plunged into darkness. I could walk to places…in many ways life was so much easier.
But compared to my life now, it was still very hard. Now I live in a very nice town, in a nice apartment complex with a community pool. If there are problems in apartment there is a maintenance crew who come immediately to fix it. In the Dominican Republic I had one apartment with a filtration problem and when it rained water would drip down in to the electric switches and flames would burst out. Forget about maintenance, there wasn’t even an ambulance you could count on coming if you got electroculted. I’ve come a long way.
I have always lived by the motto “Happiness is a choice” and I truly believe this. Even before my experiences overseas I have tried to seek happiness in everyday things and let go of what makes me unhappy. I consider my time in the Dominican Republic to be a gift because I never take anything good for granted anymore. I miss their simple pleasures.
Love Marriage
Posted on April 28, 2013
A few months ago an Indian woman that I didn’t know asked to be my friend on Facebook. This was on my personal profile, not Amor y Sabor’s Facebook page. This happens a lot actually because of the blog and I usually accept because I consider all Facebook to be public anyway. So I accepted her friend request and she began a conversation with me. She asked if I was Indian, which I replied that I was not but married to one. She then asked if it was a “love marriage”. I had heard this term before but only on the periphery so I had to think a minute as to what she meant before I responded “yes”.
Love marriage is a term used in India to indicate a marriage formed because of love, versus the more traditional arranged marriage which is formed for a variety of reasons: economic, benefit, family ambitions, astrological compatibility and necessity. The term love marriage may seem strange, redundant and archaic to a Westerner because it is our assumption that all marriage is a result of love, or at least the fantasy of love. But this is not the case in India. Except for Mumbai and some of New Dehli where India has become Westernized, arranged marriages are the norm, they are the expected outcome. In fact, arranged marriages are such the norm that many Indians who migrate to the West still go back to India for an arranged marriage.
In Indian cultures, families sacrifice everything for their children, far greater than in Western culture. It is as if the parent’s purpose is only to ensure a good life for their offspring and nothing more. Traditional Indian culture, especially where my husband Karan is from, is very strict. There are clear definitions of good and bad, what you can and can’t do. The result is that most parents feel it is not only expected, but 100% necessary, that marriages are arranged and their offspring comply with their choice.
But times are changing and more and more couples are joining because of love, often with dangerous results. It is the dark underbelly of Indian culture which, although it celebrates love through its gods and goddesses, considers duty to be more important than life itself. It is called honor killings and it is a brutal response to a betrayal of the expected duty. This duty can be to a parent or a husband. Most common it is for choosing who you love.
In India, or at least in Karan’s part of India, women marry only once. Divorce is not allowed even if the husband is abusing them. Even a woman who is widowed is not allowed to remarry. This burden of marriage falls solely on the shoulders of women because the same rules do not apply to men. Men can remarry after their wife’s death without rebuke. They can even have multiple wives. It is an unfair double standard where a woman can not even be considered worthy of marriage if another man has touched her sexually, never mind have the right to leave an abusive relationship.
This double standard for women in India was brought to international attention after several brutal rapes of women in India. Even in the case of rape, the woman is considered tainted and not worthy of marriage. No other man will have her so it is common for the rape victims to be pressured to marry their attackers as this is their only option of marriage in India’s traditional culture.
It is hard for us in the Western World to understand this aspect of Indian culture which is so obviously unfair. I do not defend or agree with it but I have come to understand it. In traditional India, marriage is the goal of all women. Not being married is not an option. But in the midst of this traditional, even ancient culture, a new mindset is starting to seep in and more and more people are demanding change — change for a culture that rewards men and punishes the victims of rape and change to stop the honor killings.
Enter a group called the Love Commandos — funny name but important work.
I first became aware of them through a news article. They have received a fair amount of press for the good work they do. When a couple comes together for love, against the wishes of their parents, they can not publicly express their love, they can not be together and they need to marry in secret. This is because their families will do everything to prevent their union, from forcing them to marry someone else to beating up them or their loved one and worse. But even when they are finally married, the danger is not over. The anger over their defiance familial duty forces them into hiding as one or both of their families can hunt them down and kill them.
The Love Commandos provides a network of safe passages and safe houses to protect the lovers, much in the same way that the Underground Railroad provided safety to the slaves fleeing servitude in America’s past. It is a wonderful organization but until there is a cultural shift, many will still die as there is not enough resources to help them all.
Before Karan came to the Dominican Republic, he had garnered some attention in Chennai. A body building champion, he was a favorite at his local gym and appeared in several local television commercials. He caught the eye of one particular girl who stepped forward one day and expressed love for him. In Karan’s culture you do not date or engage in any kind of romantic contact before marriage. Instead to watch and think until you are ready and then you express your love. So Karan, only 18 at the time, thought about whether he could love this girl and after a few days decided that he could.
With a decision clear in his mind, he went to the girl’s father to ask for her hand. Even doing this was outside the norm because the correct protocol would have been to ask his parents first but Karan has always been a bit of a rebel. When he asked the father he was flatly denied. Why you might ask? After all, he was somewhat of a minor celebrity at the time. He was denied because he is Hindu and the girl’s family was Muslim. An interfaith marriage was out of the question.
Karan, who had been considering going to the Dominican Republic to work with a shipping company as an engineer, made up his mind to leave as soon as he was denied by the father. He did feel love for the girl even though he hadn’t known her long and he didn’t care she was Muslim. To Western eyes it is hard to see it as real love, instead of a crush, but for Indians, love comes quickly and is strong and dramatic. Karan knew he was blocked from being with the girl which made him so angry that he left the country that he loves because he felt that it stifled him.
In this context one can see that when this Indian woman on Facebook asked me if we had a love marriage, it was not a light question. When I answered yes, I could feel her envy. I do not know if she was even married but the envy was of freedom — freedom to choose, freedom to love.
The Miguel Sano Story
Posted on April 12, 2013
Due to my experience and writing in this blog about the Dominican Republic, I was contacted by the filmmakers for a new film called The Miguel Sano Story which is a a followup to their documentary called Ballplayer: Pelotero. I am always happy to oblige when it comes to supporting the arts and regional film making. To that end, here is their press release.
GUAGUA PRODUCTIONS ANNOUCES FOLLOW-UP TO BALLPLAYER: PELOTERO
TITLED ‘THE MIGUEL SANO STORY’
Filmmakers Enlist the Help of Kickstarter
Guagua Productions, the team behind the critically acclaimed documentary, Ballplayer: Pelotero has announced that they are doing a follow-up to the documentary titled The Miguel Sano Story. Filmmakers are enlisting the help of Kickstarter to raise $25,000 over 30 days to continue documenting Sano’s career as he enters his third year within the Minnesota Twins farm system.
http://www.kickstarter.com/
Filmmakers Jon Paley, Ross Finkel, and Trevor Martin said, “The end of Ballplayer: Pelotero was just the beginning of Miguel’s journey. For the first time ever on film, we will tell the complete story of a future star’s rise to fame. Whether it is on or off the field on the road to the Majors, we’ll be there to document it.”
The Miguel Sano Story will be co-directed by Paley, Finkel, and Martin and picks up where Pelotero left off and will provide unprecedented access to Sano as he rises through the Minnesota Twins farm system and the challenges both on and off the field. Named one of the top-20 prospects by Baseball America, his rising status on the field has drawn suitors from every angle who are seeking a piece of the expected millions he will sign for in the big leagues, forcing him to question every new relationship. Guagua Productions will provide an intimate look at how Sano navigates the pressure of providing for his family, living in a new country and while balancing the crushing pressure to live up to the expectation that the media has of him.
The original documentary (Ballplayer: Pelotero) was distributed by Strand Releasing and followed Sano and fellow Dominican prospect, Jean Carlos Batista, throughout their journey to get signed by a professional club on their 16th birthday – the age they became eligible. When Sano was wrongly accused of lying about his age, the filmmakers got an up-close-and-personal look at how the Dominican system worked and potential corruption, back room dealings, and politics around Sano clearing his name.
Indian English
Posted on April 7, 2013
The term “Indian English” is a real one. It refers to the adaption of English by Indians but I should have named this post “Karan’s English” because not only does Karan speak Indian English but he has adapted his own version of that. This makes for a comical conversation at times to say the least.
I look at a different pages that listed Indian English terms and selected the ones I hear Karan use. Here they are with their American equivalents:
Things
Food
Physical/Emotional
|
Expressions
People
|
Because Karan is still learning English overall, he uses the words from Indian English that he is familiar with and simplifies everything else. Plus, he doesn’t talk much anyway. Most verbs he uses are in the “ing” form and he eliminates plural form. Here are some examples of things is known to say:
- When the kids are misbehaving: Coming blood. or Broke the head. = punishment (of course Karan does not do either of these things literally)
- Wash the hand = wash your hands or put the glass = put on your glasses
- I appreciate you = thank you or that was thoughtful
- how to eating = the correct way to eat something
- go to place = put something back in its place
- nothing talking = do not say anything
There are so many more but it is hard for me to remember them all. Then Karan has is own phrases that he called “opposite talking”. He uses this with the kids to play with them. If you ask for a big piece of chicken he gives you the smallest one and says “big meaning small, small meaning big”. This becomes hilarious because the kids don’t know what to say.
Another one is “chocolate” which Karan says “do you want some chocolate?” but it means punishment if they are being naughty. As I said, he never actually does what he says but the kids pay attention and it is quite amusing to see them try to figure out if Karan is really offering chocolate or if they are in trouble.
It’s hard to share in a post how amusing and interesting it can be communicating with Karan but I have tried to share a little.
Of note: Karan will probably object to my choice of photo as it appears that he is drinking beer. It is cider actually and he barely even drank any. Karan is a a body builder and therefore a purist when it comes to what he eats or drinks but I chose the photo because it shows the fun-loving side of Karan that comes out when he talks (a rare occasion).
Amor y Sabor (Love + Flavor)

Potential to Do Harm
Posted on March 1, 2013
[Photos © Eliza Alys Young, first posted on December 22, 2012]
In the days since the tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Connecticut, we have, as a country, struggled to make sense of it all. Every parent has thought of their own children on that day and are grateful they are safe. Some are grateful for something else — that it wasn’t their child who perpetrated the violence. Others pray that there is no child like Adam Lanza at their school — a ticking time bomb of potential violence.
So what do you do if you realize that your child’s classmate exhibits violent tendencies?
We do not know what happened to Adam Lanza that caused him to act so destructively but we do know that he must have been disturbed in some way to exhibit such violence. It has been said that he was mentally unstable but we will never know exactly what was going on inside. If you follow the news online then you have probably heard of, if not read, the post entitled “I am Adam Lanza’s Mother”. (I won’t link to it here because I don’t want to give it any more publicity but if you Google it you will find it right away.) The post describes the mother of a mentally ill 13 year old boy who is potentially violent. While I question the motivation of the post, whether it was more for publicity and personal gain than actually helping anyone, the fact remains that the mental health issue is unresolved and virtually unsupported in the United States.
In the interest of keeping our children safe and insuring that what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary will never happen again, we are faced with the challenge of how to identify and help the mentally ill in our society. One challenge is what I have found myself faced with: what do you do if your child’s classmate exhibits violent tendencies? How do you get that child help? How do you keep your own child safe?
This is the challenge I have found myself faced with.
Over the past couple of months, there have been a series of incidents which have led me to the conclusion that one of my son’s classmates is violent, potentially even mentally ill. The pattern of violence visible over time has caused me concern while, taken individually, each incident seems just a case of a boy acting out a bit too aggressively. Collectively, however, the incidents are troubling.
My son is in third grade and this boy who we will call Ron for the purposes of this article, is in his same class this year. He also lives in our apartment community but before this year we only saw Ron at the community pool or the bus stop. Ron and my son always had friction in their friendship; sometimes they would play together well but more often times they would fight. Typical kid stuff I thought, nothing to worry about. At least I wasn’t worried until this school year.
It began with the calls from the school that my son kept getting in trouble. Every incident involved Ron as well and their teacher said that Ron was the instigator but my son would join in. At first it was goofy boy stuff like making noise or silly jokes but then the incidents evolved to more aggressive behavior with Ron urging my son to tease another child, throw things and even hit. I was called into the school, the boys’ desks were moved farther apart, the bus driver changed their assigned seats and I avoided having them play together.
A pattern of violence began to develop including violence towards animals, lack of remorse and unwarranted aggression.
At a camping trip with Boy Scouts which both boys attended, my son was admiring a little frog with his sister. Ron came over and smashed the frog with his foot even though my son frantically yelled no. At school, once the boys were separated, the situation really darkened. Ron started demonstrating bursts of aggression towards my son such as randomly punching him, throwing pine cones or shouting expletives. These incidents always happened when Ron was less supervised such as at recess, in the hall or on the bus. My son wasn’t the only target, one day my daughter ran off the bus crying, saying that Ron had hit her and yelled bad words. When I confronted Ron he just denied it and refused to apologize.
As a parent I struggled with how to address the situation. I decided I would try to talk to Ron directly to see if he was angry with my son. So I did and he said that my son had teased him which my son denied. Regardless, there clearly was some resentment. I asked Ron to please stop hitting my son and to see if they could try to be friends. He agreed and I felt that I had made progress. Not so fast.
Later that week my son told me that he had been playing with Ron at recess and they wanted to continue the game after school. We live in the same neighborhood so I agreed he could go over to Ron’s house after he finished his homework. He was only gone 20 minutes when he burst into the house sobbing. Apparently the invitation to come over was a ruse and a group of boys from the neighborhood all ganged up on my son, hitting him with sticks and chasing him into the woods. Although Ron wasn’t the ringleader in this incident, he had lured my son there and the trap was set. My son was bruised, not seriously injured, but his spirit was crushed.
Once again I was faced with the question of what to do. Obviously my son would not play with Ron or any of those other boys again but there were no parents who witnessed the situation and the other boys stuck together blaming my son. One boy, however, who was not in the group had witnessed the incident and confirmed my son’s account of what happened. The ringleader of the incident was from a nearby neighborhood so I didn’t even know who to contact. I know Ron’s mother casually so I called her and left a message. When I talked to her I realized that Ron’s mother sees her child very differently from everyone else. I don’t know if it is denial or just not knowing but Ron’s mom sees a sweet boy who acts out now and then like all boys do. She doesn’t see the burst of anger, the pattern of violence, the need for a psychological evaluation and even intervention.
How do you tell a parent that their child might need professional help? There is no way you can.
Of course the violent tragedy at Sandy Hook has caused me to look at the incidents with Ron a little more carefully but it was just a couple of days ago, when I attended the class Christmas party, that the potential of this child to do harm really became clear to me.
I live in an affluent seaside community in North Florida, although I would consider my family to be middle-class. The community here is predominately white, but as part of a multicultural family, I have only experienced positive here: everyone is polite, respectful — it is a great place to live.
My kids go to a great public school with great teachers with a wonderful curriculum. There is just this one boy…
I got to the Christmas party early to help out. When the kids came in I looked for my son and I saw that he was crying. I asked him what was the matter and he said that Ron had punched him repeatedly at recess and in the hall. I asked him why he didn’t stay far away from him and he said he tried but Ron kept coming up to him. I then asked if the teachers did anything and he said they just told him to stay away. So I went up to his teacher to talk about the situation. She seemed at a loss as to what to do. She said she tried to keep the boys separated and that my son had to make good choices to stay away. Good advice but not a solution. In the classroom, the teacher was nervous around Ron, like he could act out at any moment. She kept trying to keep him away from my son.
During the class I had a chance to observe Ron. He was in his own world full of nervous energy with an occasional twitch. He kept seeking my son’s attention, showing him what he was doing repeatedly. Then out of the blue he came up and apologized for punching my son. While the apology was nice, it wasn’t enough. What I saw was a boy in trouble. At the very least he had some serious anger management issues to resolve. At the most he needed psychological treatment. From what I could tell from his mother, this was not going to happen anytime soon and his teacher confirmed my observation that she was not seeing the same boy we did.
We test a child’s eyes and ears but when do we evaluate their mental health?
One might say that Ron is just a bully and not mentally disturbed. After all Adam Lanza appeared like a quiet, reserved child. My concern with Ron isn’t just the anger but the randomness of it, the fact that it seems to come from no where, and then leave as quickly as it comes. One minute he is a sweet kid and the next he is angry and unrepentant.
The situation is at this point unresolved. The kids have started Christmas break so there is nothing to do now. When they return to school I will be vigilant. It is only third grade so I do not fear a violent tragedy but at the same time I do not want my son to fall victim to more violent outbursts. If I have to, I will escalate the issue for my son’s safety but the reality is the issue is much bigger than that. I am convinced that this boy is a walking time bomb. Not that he will be another Adam Lanza, I am not suggesting that, but that he has the potential to do harm. Over time, as he matures and has access to more things that can cause harm, that potential worsens.
I am talking about third grade. There is still time.
How many children are like Ron that are going to school, harboring anger that has no release? How do we identify these children before there is a tragedy? How do we help them? I have never had to ask myself this question before now and it is only by asking that I realize that at this time there is no answer.
Update:
I first wrote this post on December 22, 2012. I submitted the post to several newspapers and magazines and one local paper, The Folio Weekly, picked it up and printed it. My son was very proud of me and brought the article in to show his teacher who then showed the principal and all of a sudden I got a phone call. The principal assured me of their “no tolerance” policy of bullying and offered to switch my son to a different class. I decided to wait and see how things went now that I knew I had gotten their attention. The principal also recommended that if anything happens again to fill out their ‘bullying form’. I found it a bit ridiculous that all this information was coming to me now but I thanked her anyway and instructed my son what to do.
Things were okay for a few weeks and then there was another incident and my son dutifully filled out the form and reported it. Ron was questioned by several people and my son overheard Ron blaming him for the incident.
On the bus Ron was aggressive to my son but he ignored him. He told me about the incident after school and we agreed that it would be best to switch classes. Then my son asked to play with another boy who lives near Ron but they play well together. I said yes and my son rode his skateboard over to his house. My son’s friend has several skateboards and he wanted to try one of them so he put his skateboard by his friend’s house, near the front door, and skated around with his friend. When it was time to go, he went to get his skateboard but it was gone. While he was looking around for it frantically, Ron came over and said he knew what happened to it. He then proceeded to describe a scene where he said he saw a boy throw it into the lake and he was sure it was this boy who comes to play from another neighborhood. Ron went into detail about how he knew it must be the other boy and how the skateboard had to be in the middle of the lake by now.
When my son told me the story I was convinced that it was Ron who took the skateboard but I had no proof. The boy he blamed it on wasn’t even playing in our neighborhood that day. There wasn’t much we could do so I asked all the other kids and moms to keep a look out for the skateboard. I thought perhaps that Ron was being spiteful and had stashed the skateboard somewhere and hopefully it would magically reappear one day. I never imagined that the lake story was actually true but it was, at least part of it.
The next day I called the school and requested the class change. I also requested that the recess areas be different as that was where most of the incidents were happening. Even though it doesn’t seem fair that my son was the one to have to switch, luckily it worked out as his new class had his good friend he had been skateboarding with.
One week later, to the day, of the skateboard going missing, the mother of my son’s friend was walking her dog one morning and saw the skateboard floating in the lake. It was too far to grab but she pulled it in with a stick. It was covered in mud and gunk. It clearly had been there a week. Thankfully my husband was able to take it apart, clean and grease it and it is now good as new. Shortly after, when my son was skating around with his friends, Ron came up to him and whispered in his ear “I stole your stupid skateboard!” but he made sure no adult could hear.
The mother who was my friend on Facebook has de-friended me even though I never formally got the chance to address it with her. She will force an hello if I say it first but otherwise she has just withdrawn into her world where her kids are little angels that can do no wrong…
Then just the other day a mutual friend showed me the mom’s post on Facebook. For Ron’s birthday, she gave him…a BB gun with the comment “Coolest Mom ever.” No words.
Posted by CreativEliza
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