Ain't no party like a small-town party

You say you've never been to a small-town parade in Southern Alberta? Well, pull up your lawn chair, get the kids in the stroller, and prepare get nostalgic as 301NIB takes you on tour through a town that hasn't changed since the post-war era. Our photo-essay gives all the excitement of Magrath Days and doesn't try to hit you in the face with a lollipop.


At an A-list event like Magrath Days the security is extremely tight.


The Spirit of Magrath marching band helps keep the spirit of British imperialism alive.




The Strate Round-up carriage won a red-ribbon for best family float. (That's first-place to you and me.)



Each year the parade's major plot device involves whether or not some unfortunate child will end up under the wheels of a float as they reach for that elusive tootsie roll.

Underneath the glamour and gloss of Magrath Days lies a sinister purpose - free advertising for heartless corporate titans.


The Magrath Young Women demonstrate what a fantastic time our pioneer ancestors had pulling handcarts across the plains.


Just when you think the parade has plateaued, they take it up a notch - old people in power chairs!

Rocky Mountain Refreshment

No visit to Alberta is complete without a stop at Waterton National Park. If it's summertime, we always take visitors to see the Rocky peaks and cold mountain lakes of this protected refuge. In fact, I'm quite certain that if you try to return to the US without proof of having visited Waterton, Canadian customs will drag you out of your car and force you to attend a screening of Strange Brew before allowing you to cross the border. It's that important.

Some of the best memories of my youth involve trying to hike my way up Red Rock Canyon. As a kid it was always a contest to see who could get the farthest without getting your shoes wet. By the end, of course, everyone is completely drenched and ends up sitting on a towel in the car for the long ride home. Red Rock Canyong was also a great place to take a date, because the girl would always need to hold your hand as you crossed over the stream. You might even have to grab her around the waist one or twice to keep her from falling in the water.

This time, however, my constant companion was a little krabby patty strapped to my back. Chubber Chalong enjoyed hiking up the canyon, but with his added girth I didn't make it to 'the slide', which is generally the endpoint during these excursions. Aside from my dad offering my mom one hundred dollars to go down the slide, the highlight was watching cousins from Florida and New Mexico dip their feet into a glacial stream for the first time.

There's nothing like icy-numb extremities to let you know you're in Canada.

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Equestrian skills, Softball, and The One

So here we are now in Canada. We loaded up the van in California with as many of our possession as would fit and the kids sat like living corpses in their traveling coffins while we drove the 1295 miles from Sacramento to Magrath. The drive from Monida pass (Idaho-Montana border) to Helena still feels like traveling across the top of the world. A man feels small underneath that enormous sky.

The Strate-palooza has gone well despite my repeated attempts to disfigure myself. As soon as we arrived Meg was anxious to ride grandpa's horses, but unfortunately the riding equipment was not made for a man of my tremendous girth. (Mmmmm....girthy.) Only five minutes into the ride our horse made a unexpected turn, the saddle strap broke, and I ended up on my back with Meg on top of me. Conventional widsom says that when you fall off a horse, you need to get right back on it again. Well, screw conventional wisdom. The next time Meg rides I'll be walking in front of her with the reins in my hand. (Is it bad form to punch a horse in the face?)

The second day we were here was the opening day of the Magrath softball tournament. After scorching a double into left-center I got caught in a run-down between second and third. I somehow managed to fall on my face, tearing a hole in my sweats, and an even larger hole in my knee. The only thing that hurts more than the injury is the constant reminders from relatives, "Hey Shane...remember how there was no one even around you at third and you still face-planted?"

But the most painful aspect of all has been the coverage of the Obama campaign. Even here north of the border Obama's European tour is the top story. I think that most of us can safely say we have never seen a Presidential candidate like this in our lifetime. The National Review crowd is rightly deriding him for acting like he is already President (you want to speak at Brandenburg gate....seriously?) but why should he not? The world and especially the press has so little regard for Bush and fawns over Barack like a baby deer, the man is just acting the part.

And finally the though occurred to me - what if he doesn't win? I realize that this is a remoted possibility. The media has already handed him the election, he is leading in key swing states, there is not conceivable scenario in which he could not beat a tired, uninspiring, war-monger like John McCain. But what if he doesn't? The shock of a McCain victory would dwarf the 'Dewey defeats Truman' election as the biggest upset in American history.

This is why I think America is almost trapped into voting for Obama. He is inexperienced, ill-informed, and incredibly self-obsessed. But if he loses, the media will demand to know why. They will spend weeks and months analyzing how it was possible for a young, articulate, energetic, inspiring candidate could possibly be defeated given the unpopularity of the war and the state of the economy.

It's not difficult to imagine the conclusion they will offer.

Pictures from Pleasure Island

Spencer, Grant, and Jake smother Chubber-Chalong
Luke and Kelsey
McKay, Isabelle, and Meg
Lampwick vandalizes the court
Meg and Isabelle
The Flash with new cousin Cole
Zac, anonymous friend, Whitey, Spencer, and Noah

So what's your dissertation about?

For years I have been practicing how to answer that question. Every conversation with a friend or relative inevitable turns to that topic, and I am forced once again to stumble my way through a shoddy explanation. The reaction is always the same. The face betrays a combination of confusion and boredom, followed by a half-hearted, "That sounds interesting."


Next subject.


I certainly can't blame them. These are all intelligent people. They didn't understand my explanation because I didn't understand it. I knew the questions I was asking, I just didn't have the language to formulate a dissertation into a refrigerator magnet. It's like taking four hundred gallons of sea water and trying to distill it into a single glass of drinkable water.

But today I had a breakthrough.

My dissertation explores nationalism. (For those of you who don't have a copy of Ben Anderson on your nightstand, nationalism involves the study of how groups of people imagine themselves as having things in common with other groups of people. We are a nation because we share common traits. These can be a common language, religion, ethnicity, or political philosophy.)

In Thailand, historians have always credited two institutions with creating a sense of community: Buddhism and the monarchy. I will argue that a third factor has been overlooked - the collective memory of national humiliation.

Thailand's loss of territory to French imperialism created deep scars on the national psyche. These act like traumatic childhold memories that can cause re-lapses and influence behavior later on (ie. the current political crisis over Preah Vihear).

Collective memories of victimhood form an integral part of what it means to be 'Thai'. The communal sense of resentment and bitterness towards the west provides an additional sense of cohesion to an otherwise diverse group of people. It also means that a country which was never colonized is afflicted by a post-colonial mindset.

So there it is - my future contribution to knowledge. Not as ground-breaking as Orientalism or the Bush Doctrine, but hopefully good enough to get a diploma and one day...a job.

Get to know your neighbours to the north

The Death of General Woolfe

Many of you are probably unaware that today is Canada Day. Because July 1st falls so close to July 4th (Filipino-American Frienship Day) it often doesn't receive the attention it deserves. In Canada, we sometimes refer to it as 'Dominion Day', because it was on this day in 1867 that Canada became a semi-independent country. As a historian and a Canadian, I feel it's important to help educate other about our great nation.

So, here is a list of important events that happened on July 1st. I hope you enjoy your tour through our great nation's history.

1755 - British punish disloyal Acadians by forcing them to live in Louisiana.

1812 - Laura Secord walked thirty kilometers through the snow to warn the British encampment at Fitzgibbon's headquarters that Americans made really inferior chocolate bars.

1837 - Lower Canada riots due to confusion over its precise geographical relationship with Upper Canada.

1885 - While preparing himself to face the gallows, Louis Riel utters famous last phrase, "Friendly Manitoba, my a--!"

1952 - Rocket Richard torches the Capitals for five goals, then burns down Presidential Mansion during after-party.

1967 - FLQ crisis erupts after federal government tries to ban Quebecois from putting mayonaise on everything.

1983 - Captain Marc Garneau banned from future space missions after using shuttle's Canadian-made robotic arm to pick fellow astronaut's nose.

1987 - A young Mack Strate rips up Slalom course at St. Mary's reservoir following Raymond parade.

1996 - Bowling for Columbine director Michael Moore shot seven times at Toronto area bar for repeatedly saying, "No doot aboot it!"



The Prince of Wales Hotel, Waterton National Park

Lei all your love on me

It's always difficult to say good-bye to a place you might never see again. Especially when that place is constantly green, located near a beach, and between 75-85 degrees year-round.

The last few weeks in Hawaii were kind of a blur. Kaddi and the kids left ten days before I did. Although they certainly won't miss Laie elementary school, the kids both had good friends that they will remember fondly. Meg probably had the hardest time saying good-bye to her primary teacher, a former member of the 80s musical group 'The Jets'. I heard her perform at the Christmas party and thought, "that beautiful mixture of pop-rhythm and melody reminds me of the The Jets." Oh, was I right.

With her well-prepared lessons and fun pizza parties, Sister Fenga gave Meg one more chance to make it real.

On our last Sunday we took part in the Aloha tradition. I confess I'd been a little worried about this since arriving in the ward. Normally you stand up at the front while the ward sings 'Aloha Hawaii,' and people come up to put leis around your neck. we hadn't been there very long and didn't know very many people. I imagined us standing up there, smiling awkwardly, while no one came up to say good-bye.

Fortunately for us, we left the same Sunday as two senior sister missionaries who were beloved by the ward. Many people passed us as they came to say good-bye to them, so it looked like the ward was truly mourning our departure. We also had a few people come up to wish us well, including our good friends Chris and Katie, who were kind enough to make beautiful flower leis for us. It was very touching.




Anyway, we spent the week getting everything cleaned up and the suitcases packed so Kaddi and the kids could make their flight to Sacramento. I heard later that they missed their flight and had to fly to Oakland and catch the shuttle to Sacramento. (That's another story for another time.) I'm not sure who was to blame, but rather than wasting a lot of time conducting a thorough investigation I just gave Jakob a thorough spanking.

Then there was nothing to keep me company but a stack of research papers and finals. I felt a little awkward going back to church by myself the next Sunday, Father's Day, especially when the ward had given us the grand sendoff the week before. I tried to sneak into the back, but was tracked down by a lovely young woman who placed a fathers-day lei around my neck and gave me a kiss on the cheek. How can one not be charmed by a tradition like that?

Move On with a Greener Kind of Candidate

Whatever you might think about Barak Obama, there's no question that he is a different kind of Presidential candidate. We have never seen anything like him before. Listening to him speak is as refreshing as the smell of Old Spice deodorant on a crowded Hawaiian bus. The man is already making political history, and he's not even President yet.

As the candidate for change, Obama is not weighed down by the conventional baggage that comes with being a Washington insider. Unlike your typical Republican candidate, he hasn't surrounded himself with lobbyists or shady advisors who got sweet-heart deals from unethical mortgage companies. Nor will he be bothered by restraints like 'executive experience'. He's completely unhampered by any knowledge of the economy or foreign policy matters. This guy's so fresh he makes Presidental candidate John Kennedy look like Strom Thurmond.

And let's face it, America needs the completely new perspective Obama will bring in order to transcend its tragic racial past. Do you think McCain would have the foresight to ask two Muslim women wearing headscarves to move out of the camera shot during his campaign speech? Of course not. It takes a special kind of politician to show that type of leadership.

Never before have we had a candidate courageous enough to reject the limitations of public funds after promising he would accept them only months ago. This intrepid move will allow the Democrats to outspend the Republicans 2-1 over the course of the campaign. Others might characterize this as a flip-flop, but I recognize it as a bold move toward equality. After all, Republicns have been buying elections for years.

Yes, years from now I'll be able to tell my grandchildren that I witnessed the moment when America finally began caring for the poor and providing jobs for the unemployed.. When the earth began to heal and the oceans began to subside. And I was here to witness the greatness of the man responsible for it all, a man brave enough to move away from the tired, empty, hopeless rhetoric of the....what?....

Oh man...I've got to go. John McCain just stopped by to force Luke into the marine corp.

(You can't have him...John.)

That's why I was salesman of the month

Now that the family is gone I'm in charge of selling our car. I've spent the past week looking for efficient methods of advertising. Then I realized - Why do I need the classifieds? I have access to 301NIB...a website viewed by up to one dozen people every day!

Let's start the bidding...

Wouldn't you like to experience a new standard of luxury?

It's the type of automobile that tells people, "Why yes, I am living here temporarily."

Enjoy a driving tour of the island in beautiful buckets seats made of leathery goodness.

Vehicle also includes:

1) Head and tail lights.

2) Standard built-in crock pot.

3) 4.3 pounds of sand.

4) A engine specially modified to run on either gasoline or aloha spirit.

Asking Price: Two Costco containers of Kirkland chocolate covered raisins (o.b.o.)

Le voleur qui sourit

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Meet the Swappers

We never did make it down to Honolulu to walk through the swap meet. But today I witnessed a display of capitalist carnage no less fearsome, if on a smaller scale.

Since TVA is such a transient community, we have our own little swap meet every Saturday on the side road that runs past the university. Kaddi gathered up almost everything we'd purchased while here in Hawaii (except our vacuum and television, both too precious to part with just yet), and I loaded them into the car for everal trips out to swap-meet road.

I have to admit I was a little skeptical. After all, who sells their second-hand items by the roadside? Who buys items that way? This isn't Thailand.

As it turns out...it IS Thailand. We arrived at about 9 AM and almost all the prime real estate was already taken. There were tables and shelves set up. People selling DVD's, CD's, bikes, shelves, furniture, rice-cookers, books, Christmas trees, dishware, toys, and everything else.

And these sellers can be competitive. We almost got into it ("Are we doing this?") with the Vietnamese lady stationed next to us after she kept tipping over a bike she felt was positioned too close to her blanket display.

Merchandise moves fast. By the time I arrived with the second carload of goods, Kaddi had sold most of the first load. By the time I took the above photo, several moms had already purchased the household items (and their kids had broken the toys).

Kaddi's such a trooper she's decided to stay there until everything sells. I volunteered to come home so that Luke could take a nap.

I need a bath

Claude Lemieux

As the day of departure draw closer, Kaddi has decided she now has a list of things she wants to do before leaving Hawaii. A few days ago we accomplished number six, visiting the beach where sea turtles sun themselves. When we arrived there were three turtles on the beach, with two game wardens present to rope off the area where they sit and make sure no one gets within at least ten feet of the reptiles. It was a little disappointing. I was hoping to shove pocky-sticks up a turtle-nose and take a picture.

At first, the Hawaiian turtle reminded me only of hockey's most irritating player from the eighties and nineties. But as we admired the quiet majesty of these silently majestic creatures, we also got a little video footage of the turtles making their way back into the sea. The ninety seconds or so of film actually took place over about three hours. Meg got a little impatient and I had to remind her these were tortoises, not hares.

And while I watched them struggle towards the surf, I felt a strange kinship with these pre-historic animals. They were like poor, bewildered graduate students, governed by a timeless instinct, moving towards some unachievable goal....

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A Memorable Memorial Day to Remember

Despite his broken arm, Jake managed to soldier on and enjoy the USS Missouri.

In addition to the bravery of the troops, we spent this week celebrating the fact that Luke's bowels are moving again for the first time in two weeks. Things were looking bleak for a while. The kid was so full of gas we couldn't take him out in public. After a few minutes in Gospel Doctrine he'd clear out the entire Relief Society room. And people would assume it was Kaddi or I. It felt like I was carrying Pepe Le Pieux around in a car seat. We were on the verge of being shunned by society.

Thankfully, other family members are substantially less stinky. I'm proud to say I'm relatively odor-free since leaving Thailand. Eating cereal for breakfast instead of spicy noodles makes a big difference. And now that Jake has a broken arm and plays outside much less, his smell has also improved. His clothes have never been cleaner.

Anyway...

As you can see from the pictures, I went with Jake on his class field trip to Ford Island in Pearl Harbor. We visited the Arizona Memorial, the USS Bowfin submarine, the Pacific Aviation Museum, and finally the USS Memorial. At each stop the kids learned something about WWII and the US military.

Now, at a school on the mailand that would be enough. But this is Hawaii, where no amount of indulgence or legal liability is too much for the precious keiki. Why simply visit a Battleship like the USS Missouri, when you can spend the night there. How exciting to spend an entire night stuffed into a tiny metal cubicle listening to dozens of ten-year old boys rattle around in their metal cubicles. Yes, it was just as much fun as an actual boot camp. I kept waiting for a pack of hazers to show up suddenly at my bunk and pin me down with a blanket so that others could begin whacking me with socks full of quarters.

In truth, I got off easy. We had to leave early the next morning so that I could get back to teach my sections of Hist 201 (I've never been so happy to see those GE students.) The chaperones who didn't get early parole got to eat breakfast on the Missouri and spend several more hours visiting such attractions as the library and the laundry room.

It was fun to spend the day with Jake and a hundred of his classmates. But battleships are mazes of hallways with short ceilings divided into tiny metal compartments. Not the ideal place for freakishly tall clautrophobic people.

At least I didn't have Luke with me.

Sealy Dan

On Thursday I took the morning off so that Kaddi, Luke and I could cruise the beaches and do some exploring at low tide. We found a rocky out-cropping just north of Turtle Bay where we could walk around. As we got out of the car we noticed a monk seal that had come on to the beach to sun himself.

While we gathered around taking pictures, a game warden approached and explained that Hawaiian state law dictated we all needed to stay one-hundred feet away from the seal. So I said, "Look buddy, how 'bout you tell your seals to stay one-hundred feet away from us?!"

In the afternoon, Kaddi bailed me out of fish-and-wildlife jail and we went for ice cream.






(M-Strat out.)

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The Rainbow Warrior

Two thoughts occured to me as I watched this video:

First, could any kid be more out of place at a Polynesian dance ceremony than Jake? He looks like the leprechaun who snuck onto the stage to hide from the neighbourhood kids trying to steal his red hearts, yellow moons, green clovers, and blue diamonds.

I wish I could show this video to some of our ancestors from the nineteenth century. Those puritanical, god-fearing, Christian pioneers who spent their time traveling around the Pacific, converting the heathen and trying to stamp out their cultures. What would be their reaction at seeing their descendants clad in palm leaves, with painted faces, re-enacting these pagan rituals?

Abner Hale would have had a stroke.

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That's not what I meant

Kaddi and I saw this ad posted on the bulletin board as we walked through the activities center the other day. I can think of two possible interpretations:

1) This is another case of English as a second-language, and the person is really advertising an available 'space' in their house.

2) There have been serious changes in the honour code since I was a student.

May-ggie Scrumptios Day

(A post by Kaddi)

May Day Extravaganza

It is that time of year when elementary schools in the U.S. put on their end of the year musical programs. I have been especially excited for Jake and Megs May Day performance because since the very first day that we arrived here in Hawaii I have heard wonderful things about the elementary May Day program. Today was the day. The kids had to get up very early this morning so that we could get them to school to prepare their costumes and make-up. Meg has been talking about this event for weeks now. She was constantly wanting me to watch her dance, but I tried to get her to save a little for a surprise.

Shane was not able to go to the program b/c he had a lecture to give at the exact time of the performance, so Luke and I were on our own. Most of the elementary schools in Hawaii would be performing their May Day programs in hot and crowed gyms or school cafeterias, but since we live in Laie our kids were able to perform at the PCC (Polynesian Cultural Center). It has a wonderful stage with lights, sounds, special effects and waterfalls. As I sat in my seat with Luke I teared up as I always do when my kids are involved in something like this. This moment was a marker in the countdown to the end of the school year. I am always sad at the thought of my children moving on. I want them to stay young and innocent forever. Jake will be in sixth grade next year-the end to his elementary career, then he will embark on the dreaded journey to jr. high. Meg will be in the third grade, I hope that her excitement for life will continue with each passing year.

Before the show began I had a little talk with Luke. I knew that if he got upset I would not have Shane there to pass him off to and it would be just my luck that he would squeal right at the time of Jake or Megs number. He was actually very cooperative. He ate, slept, slobbered and then ate again. He was very good, except for the fact that some of my film footage is a little shaky due to Luke trying to capture the camera and slobber all over it. I did the best I could and actually got some great pictures and movie moments.

Megs class and the other second graders represented New Zealand. For weeks Meg has been very excited but at the same time fretting over her poi ball routine. In typical Meg fashion right after the show was over she was so sad that it was through and wanted to perform again. Jakes fifth grade represented the Cook Islands. Jake was not as enthused. A girl in Jakes class was sick and was not able to perform and I commented that it was sad that she would miss the performance. Jake thought she was lucky and described how terrible it was to have to wait and watch the other performers until his classes turn. The show was quite the success and lived up to what I had been told. The costumnes were very ellaborate with feathers and jewelery. All the children were very adorable and I was sad that Shane had to miss this moment.

As I sat there and watched the show I couldn't help but feel greatful for this experience that we have had here. WE've had difficult moments but also wonderful moments too. I was so proud of Jake and Meg for continuing to travel to and fro making their best effort to fit in and make friends where ever we are. They amaze me and make me so very, very proud. sniff, sniff.

Sit back and enjoy our May Day.

(Editor's Note: Here are some clips from Meg's performance. Jake's dance and others pictures will follow.)

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

The wrist-shot

Yesterday everyone was going different direction. Kaddi went down to Kaneohe to take Meg to her dentist appointment. Jake was playing at a friends house. I was in my happy place, locked away in my office working on my dissertation. Life was simple.

This tranquility was interrupted by a phone call from a neighbour. It seemed Jake had fallen off his rip-stick and really hurt himself. I put down the phone and headed out the door to pick him up. Just as I crossed the street a friend raced up in his car with Jake in the back. He informed me that it looked like Jake had broken his wrist. In the middle of the street two dads tried to decide what to do. We decided to see if the student clinic would take him.

They wouldn't. We have Kaiser health care, which doesn't have a contract with the BYUH clinic. They informed us we'd have to go down to Moana Lua valley or over to Mililani. Both would involved an hour drive, and since it was now rush hour we were looking at ninety minutes. That's a long time for a boy with a broken wrist. Once again I thought back fondly on my youth filled with hockey, snowball fights, and socialized medicine.

We decided to take him to the Kahuku hospital emergency room, which was only ten minutes away. They don't have a contract with Kaiser, but it was the only real option. They admitted him and gave him some medicine for the pain, then x-rayed his arm. The doctor informed us it was a clean break of the radius above the growth plate. Pretty soon we had Jake on a morphine drip, and he was feeling groovy.



I knew I had to give Kaddi a call, but didn't have a cel phone. Finally I was able to borrow a cel phone from a friend, but neither Jake nor I could remember our home phone number (It changed a month ago). Finally, I got a hold of Kaddi on her cel phone and she came down to the hospital. I was so proud of Jake. I knew how painful it must have been for him, but he fought back the tears while riding to the hospital with his friends in the car. Even when it was just him and I he still kept a brave face. But when Kaddi finally arrived the flood gates opened. It was like a teary kablaamo. Something about having your mom around...

So now he's home and will miss a week of school. He has a splint now for a few days until the swelling goes down. He spends a lot of time on the couch watching Disney channel with a bag of peas on his wrist. On Thursday he'll get his cast, which I hear they make in different colours now. And I guess the ripstick will go into the closet.

(Editor's Note: Two days before this happened we were at a softball game where Meg fell out of a tree and landed on her back. The only thing hurt was her pride - proving once again, that the world belongs to Meg.)

The Devourer

Luke and I watch a lot of tv together. This week we happened to catch Michael Moore on Larry King (I'm a big fan of both). Moore began by talking about HBO, how the network was producing the most interesting shows on television, and how the government should ensure that every household in America can get HBO. It was the most reasonable argument he made the entire hour.

After 3-4 minutes, Luke tried to end the misery by chewing off his own foot.

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Hawaii: The American Tibet

Tomorrow is May Day here in Hawaii. At the Polynesian Cultural Center all the kids from Laie elementary will be putting on special Polynesian dances that they've been practicing all year. Unfortunately, I'll be lecturing on the caste system and conflict between Dravidians and Aryans in India and miss the whole thing.

Lousy full-time employment...

Meanwhile, I truly enjoy watching the Olympic torch circle the globe. What an inspiring sight it is to see the flame carried by a runner guarded by the three divisions of the People's Liberation Army. It must really be a thrill for some of those soldiers to put a beatdown on Free-Tibet protestors from several continents.



Poor 'Free Tibet' protestors. I have such good memories of students marching around the Memorial Library at Wisconsin, carrying their signs advocating an independent Tibetan homeland. After all, we can't shut our eyes to the plight of the Tibetans. "Kids, are you getting all this plight?"

I just have one question. Can someone explain to me why Tibet would be so much better off if it were independent?

I realize that denouncing China is only slightly less popular than denouncing the United States, but if you look at the history of Tibet before 1950 - it's a mess. In many ways, the Chinese have improved the quality of life for ordinary Tibetans.

Consider:

China invaded Tibet in 1950. From 1951 to 2007, the Tibetan population in Lhasa administered Tibet has increased from 1.2 million to almost 3 million. The GDP of the Tibet Autonomous Region (TAR) today is thirty times that of before 1950. Workers in Tibet have the second highest wages in China. The TAR has 22,500 km of highways, as opposed to none in 1950. All secular education in the TAR was created after the Chinese revolution. The TAR now has 25 scientific research institutes as opposed to none in 1950. Infant mortality has dropped from 43% in 1950 to 0.661% in 2000. The United Nations reports an infant mortality rate of 35.3 per thousand in 2000. Life expectancy has risen from 35.5 years in 1950 to 67 in 2000.

I know, I know...it's all about self-determination, that magical buzz-word of Wilsonian democracy. But what does that phrase really mean? For example...

Two days ago a Hawaii sovereignty group known as the Hawaiian kingdom took control of Iolani palace, the former residence of the Hawaii royal family and a major tourist attraction. They announced to the press that they had taken this action in order to draw attention to the Hawaii's status as an territory illegally occupied by the United States. The group would like to secede from the USA, restore the monarchy, and return to an authentic (pre-1893) existence.



But why stop there? Why not go back to the time before Kamehameha (the original imperialist), when each island was a separate kingdom? Surely, the farther we go back the closer we'll get to pure Hawaiian culture. Everything will be better off if we just eliminate those contaminating aspect of western imperialism. First to go - democracry, Christianity, electricity, and the internal combustible engine. Oh, what a paradise it will be when Hawaii is once again a society of small villages, taro fields, and fish ponds.

Tibet will just have to liberate itself without my help. When I get back to Madison, I'm starting a "Free Hawaii" club.

The People's Professor

The semester is now over. Graduating seniors are saying their good-byes and gathering up their things to head home. I get to spend the week grading final exams and research papers. My History 201 exams have a question on the importance of Saladin, the Sultan of Egypt, who re-conquered Jerusalem and drove the Crusaders out of the Holy Land. One of the students answered the question with the following statement:

"Saladin was one of the greatest Saltines in the history of the Islamic world."

Another student answered the question about Leif Ericson by pointing out how he discovered 'New Finland.' For heaven's sakes, if high school aren't teaching kids how to spell Newfoundland, what are they teaching these days?!!

Ah, well. Perhaps they'll do better taking the class the second time around. But this week hasn't been only about painfully bad writing and historical inaccuracies. This morning I went down to Kaneohe with Kaddi, and when I returned to my office in the afternoon I found an envelope on my desk. Inside was a card from some students and this picture:



This the crew from my history 485 Class: Authoritarian regimes in Southeast Asia. It covers approaches to the end of colonialism, patron-client relationships, the 'failure' of democracy, and the rise of military dictatorships. We discussed all the great dictators: Ferdinand Marcos, Pol Pot, Ne Win, Suharto, Sukarno, and Sarit.

The class got off to a rough start as the laxadaisical BYUH approach clashed with my Wisconsin graduate school mentality. I've since learned that the students were really afraid of me for the first month (at least), but gradually they came to learn that I was not out to destroy them and began to appreciate the lessons of dictatorship, genocide, and revolution in SEA.

I now have that picture framed an sitting in my office. It has clever captions for each of the students reflecting their behavior and attitudes in class. I felt the drawing was amazingly real, especially the way it captured me as being both scholarly AND buff.


I'm still waiting for my card from the 201 students. I guess they must have mailed it.

Triumph of the Will

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Feel the Love

As our time in Hawaii grows short we've begun contemplating our third move in three years. Jake is counting down the days. Meg wants to live in a real house. Both are excited to see their cousins in California and Canada this summer. But whether we return to Madison or go some place new this year, the kids will probably have to start over yet again and make new friends.

The other day while we were in the car I was discussing this fact with Meg. I was asking is she was nervous to go to another new school next year. She said that she would like to go back to Madison to see her friends from kindergarten. So, I explained that I knew it was hard to start over, and I was sorry we had to move so often. She look at me with those tender little girl eyes I love so much.

"That's okay, dad" she assured me. "It's not your fault you can't find a job."

The burden of the past

The last Saturday that Rachy-Rach was still here in Hawaii we loaded everyone into the car and headed off to visit Pearl Harbor. It was nice to have an excuse to spend a day at the Arizona Memorial, since we've been here eight months already. I had hoped to go last month when another family member visited, but that anonymous person went without us. He's kind of a CEO bigshot and probably didn't want our little family slowing him down while he hob-knobbed with important state officials. Anyway, I'm glad Rachel didn't mind going with us.

As anyone who has visited it knows, Pearl Harbor is not a light-hearted experience. As we walked from the car towards the visitor's center a national parks official flagged us down to inform us that we couldn't take in any bags into the buildings. He also reminded us that the memorial was a cemetery and so we should instruct our children to act accordingly. After giving the kids a stern warning and stuffing my pockets full of diapers, wipes, and Desitin, we were ready to experience history.

Despite our best intentions to treat the proceedings with an appropriately somber demeanor, I had a hard time at the beginning of the film. Before watching the documentary on the events of December 7, 1941, a park official introduces the film. This guy delivered a dramatic monologue that combined an exagerated melancholy tone with a truly flamboyant sense of gay-ness. The effect was so comical it became impossible to listen to his account, and I had to look away in order to maintain my stoic expression. My mind recalled a similar experience once...long ago...at a ward talent show.

Still, for a history student Pearl Harbor is a fascinating site of memory. The film does an excellent job telling the narrative of Japan's decision to attack the United States naval base in Hawaii. The Japanese never intended to invade the U.S., only to put its navy out of commission for a period of eighteen months. They hoped to complete their conquest of Southeast Asia and China without American interference. By the time the US had rebuilt its navy, the task of dislodging the Japanese from their strongholds would hopefully be too daunting. But the attack at Pearl Harbor was actually a bigger disaster for Japan than for the United States. The aircraft carriers were not present, and the perceived treachery united public opinion in favor of war, while silencing the isolationists. There is mounting evidence that Roosevelt knew of the attack beforehand, but didn't warn his admirals because he felt America would need to get its nose bloodied before it could present a united front against the Axis.

For Hawaiians, Pearl Harbor represents a different type of loss. During the war between the states, Hawaiian planters grew rich from selling sugar cane to the Union. After the war, Louisiana sugar barons moved to protect their domestic market by demanading that the federal government place tariffs on all imported sugar. In desperation, the sugar lobby in Hawaii offered Washington Pearl Harbor as a naval base in exchange for free access to American markets. Under pressure from white planters, the king signed Pearl Harbor over to the US navy. Many Hawaiians have still not forgiven whites for this historical injustice.

Some of them periodically exact revenge by beating up little red-headed fifth graders.

Auntie Rachel

At long last I have time to post the events that have been so highly anticipated by 301NIB viewers in the metropolitan Vancouver area - Rachel's visit to Hawaii. It's the first time I've seen my little sister since Christmas 2005. Also the first time she's come to visit us since we lived in another tiny apartment in Provo. She and I once worked as illegal immigrants at an Asian buffet restaurant that no longer exists, where she proceeded to consume vast amounts of fried chicken-based products (and avoid the croutons).

It was great to have Rachel around for the week. In some ways, it was just like when we were kids. She'd pass out in front of the Letterman show with cheese-doodle dust all over her face. Then sleep til noon. Then wake up and start eating my mini-eggs. Then she'd sit and 'bounce' on the couch while I practiced piano. Then when she got really fussy I'd lock her in her room.

*sigh*....good times.

Bright Copper Kettles

Last weekend one of our favorite movies aired on abc family, The Sound of Music. Meg saw the previews for it and begged to watch it, yet again. One of the kids favorite parts of the movie is when the Vontrapp children are frightened by the storm and run into Marias room. She then settles them all down with a song about her favorite things. I am always flabbergasted when I hear the line about bright copper kettles. How in the world could that be on someones list of favorite things? I guess if you were preparing to enter into an abby and become a nun that a shiny kettle might brighten your day. But I wonder if this song would have been sung towards the end of the movie if Maria would have been singing about kissing Captain Von-hottie in the garden? Anyway this got me to thinking about some of my favorite things. Specifically my favorite things about living in Hawaii. I'll start with number 11 and work to number 1 (which I'm sure will be no surprise)

11. I love that Shane is only a 5 minute walk from home, that when I need a break from Lucky Lukie or whatever the case maybe that he can be home quickly.

10. I love that my kids can wear old t-shirts, shorts and flip-flops to school and not worry if they are in fashion.

9. I love that everytime there is a church, school or community function there is always a musical program.

8. I love how Hawaiians make pork. Yuummm! They bury a pig underground and then several other steps which I can't recall, anyway when I get it it's shredded and is absolutely terrific.

7. I love the fact that we have a perfect view of the temple right outside our apt. window.

6. I love our tiny movie theatre in our little Laie shopping center. It only shows two movies, but they are always family movies and it's only $3.00

5. I love that it is green year round. It's always beautiful.

4. I love visiting the PCC. We went there a couple weeks ago with Shanes parents. WE enjoyed their Luau and nightshow as well. It was kind of an ephony. It wasn't until that day that I felt like I was in Hawaii. I actually felt like I was on vacation. We have been here since August 07, but we have been doing so much day to day stuff that I often forgot where I was living. Anyway it was great.

3. I love that everyone wants to come and visit us. Wisconsin was not very tempting for some, Thailand was a little far, expensive and unknokwn, but Hawaii, who doesn't want to come to Hawaii.

2. I love the fact that my kids can play outside all day everyday. Wow it makes such a difference. Thailand was unbearably hot and humid, Wisconsin had too long of a winter and got dark very early. Hawaii is just perfect. There is a pleasant breeze almost everyday and if it get's too hot theres always the beach close by.

1. I'm sure this is not too surprising to anyone, but my most favorite thing about living in Hawaii is the beach. It is absolutely gorgeous. It's so close, it's free and it's a great activity for the family. I love the fact that when I drive down Kamehameha hwy. that the ocean and beach are 20 feet away. I love living so close to such natural beauty. Sometimes you can look out at the ocean and the water is 5 different shades of blue. If any of you have ever been here my most favorite beach is Waimea bay. The water is mostly calm and the surrounding mountains and trees are breathtaking.

Our time here is almost up and I know that I will not be sad to say goodbye to our shoe box apt but we have made some great memories here and I know that I will miss it.

Frightening Miss Muffet Away

Two days ago I was sitting in my office and got a frantic call from Kaddi. She had just returned home from picking the kids up at school. Upon getting out of the car she turned around to shut the door and noticed a cane spider crawling on outside of the car near the wheel well. This was enough to induce panic. She had Jake go into the house to get some Raid, but when she attempted to spray the spider it disappeared. Now she was uncertain whether the spider was actually in the car, or underneath, or where it had gone.

The cane spider is actually know as the Huntsman Spider, which came to Hawaii from Asia. They are reportedly quite timid, but will bite if attacked or sprayed with Raid. They like hanging out in the sugar cane fields and are really quite beneficial to humans because they eat cockroaches and silverfish. They have a knack for crawling into homes, sheds, or even vehicles before a storm. The night before we had a long rainstorm, and I would guess the spider found refuge by crawling up into the undercarriage of our car, and then inadvertently became a passenger on the way to school.

When I got home I checked over the car but couldn't find him. I hope he's gone back to the cane fields now. One day Kaddi might be traveling down the H-1 and look back to see Luke trying to force a big hairy brown spider into his mouth. That would be bad.