Monday 8 December 2014

A Modern Movie and an Old Song ( Guardians of the Galaxy and Hooked on a Feeling )





            I bet , a sizable portion of the Generation Y who watched and raved about Guardians of the Galaxy do not know that  the soundtrack is as old as their moms and dads . " Hooked on a Feeling "   was  originally sung by BJ Thomas  and was released in 1968. Yeah , 1968. However , this  first version , is softer .Gentler.  You know , that kind of song  your old folks would enjoy listening to  on a lazy Sunday afternoon . The  tempo varies throughout the song , however . The beat picks up towards the end --- so , it won't really  lull you to sleep .
           A 1971 version  by English musician Jonathan King   saw  the  addition  of the chant " hooka , chakka " , which lent the song a little ethnic appeal . Some don't like it  , though.  Maybe , the chant  conjures images of  wild tribal rituals  in remote Pacific  islands.  
          Then in 1974 , a Swedish  pop group called Blue Swede , recorded a new version . This was the one used in  Guardians of the Galaxy. They retained the chant  and made it more rock . It's more virile.  Their vocal power  oozes with  masculinity.  While BJ's rendition  reminds us of a  naive , young man falling in love for the first time , this version seems to come from  a man of the world , finally finding his true love . BJ's version  brings the listener to slow-moving brooks  and  idyllic meadows where a boy and his girl pick flowers  and  chase butterflies. On the other hand , Blue Swede's version transports us to extra-terrestrial kingdoms where a muscled warrior snatches his damsel from the claws of a  monster.
           
             This song catapulted Blue Swede to  international fame. However , the band disbanded in 1975 when the lead vocalist Bjorn Skifs , decided to go solo.

              So , what happens when you fuse this kind of music with a story full of   cool characters , action, adventure , humor and astounding special effects ? A blockbuster  film , of course ! GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY  is the   highest grossing superhero film of 2014 , with estimated earnings of  US$ 765,100,032 .

          I have here the  links to the two versions. Both are " feel good " songs . You decide which one suits you.






http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wqt_iZBvtCo

https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=NrI-UBIB8Jk#t=38


:
                                                                 B.J. Thomas 

Wednesday 19 November 2014

Come To Oman by marily gayeta



                           Yes , that Omani smile 
                          His Majesty , Sultan Qaboos 

                             Masirah 



Majlis Al Jin 

Come to Oman
And be charmed by its quiet beauty 
A land molded by Allah's hands
Where splendid  sights  spellbind your eyes 
And where wonderful  people  warm  your hearts ...
                                          marilygayeta



Mutrah Oman


Tiwi Beach 

Sultan Qaboos Mosque in Muscat 


Mirbat Beach 




Mugsahil Beach 




Friday 31 October 2014

Mother and Son : A Story



                                               Mother and Son : A Story 

                                                              msgayeta


           Let me tell you a story . A true story of a mother and her son , her only child. This happened  about twenty years ago. She  was  a Filipina who belonged to the lower stratum of society . Life was hard . As a single parent , she tried  to make both ends  meet  for  her son , her mother and herself. With her limited schooling ,  she could only do menial jobs . And no matter how hard she tried , there was never enough  food on the table---let alone sufficient clothes on their backs  and vitamins which her baby needed.  Every time she imagined the future , she saw only a  bleak life for her son. Probably , she could send him up to elementary school in a public institution . But nothing more than that. And what life would he have with just an elementary school diploma  in his hand ? The same sorry life as hers ?
            She mustered  her courage and  made  a very difficult decision . She accepted a job overseas as a household helper. Kissing her son good- bye , she made a silent promise of escape from their wretched  existence .  The mother  left as a migrant worker  in the  mid-1970s .  ( Nowadays , she’d be called an OFW. )  That time , her son was just a baby , about a year old. She left him in the care of her mother. In Saudi Arabia , she worked her hand to the bones , doing household chores for almost 18 hours a day . She scrubbed floors , washed the laundry , brushed toilet bowls  and took care of her employers’ children . The poor woman  was always exhausted at the end of the day . At night , as she laid her worn out body on her bed , she would press  her baby’s picture close to her heart and  dream of the day when she could hold him again.
              This drudgery  went on for a decade . She was not able to go home for a vacation during those ten years. Not even once .  She was  a  victim of illegal recruiters and  had no legal documents in Saudi Arabia. Thus , it was very easy  for her employers to abuse her   and deprive her of her rights.  
           Because there  was  no internet and cell phone at that time , she rarely got the chance to communicate with her mother and  her growing son . Anyway , at last , after a decade ,  someone offered  to help her  get out of Saudi Arabia . She  also got a job  offer   for a  caregiver in Israel.  Without hesitation , she accepted the job . So , from Saudi Arabia ---she went straight to Israel  where she  worked  for about seven years .  There , she took care of elderly people ---- fed them, gave them their medicines , bathed them  and  washed  their laundry soiled with urine and feces .  She did for them what their own children  could not do.
              As before , she sent almost  all of her   salary  to her family in the Philippines. For some reasons again , she was not able to go home for a vacation during those years. Most likely ,  she  had legal problems  again  and  did not know what to do . Or maybe , she  took advantage of every opportunity to earn money---thus , opting not to have a vacation . Maybe  she thought , the  faster she earned  money , the sooner she could go home  for good. 
            Meanwhile , her son had grown into a young man. Because the son was just a baby when the mother left , he had no memory of seeing her face to face . He only knew  his mother’s face through  old , faded pictures . While in Israel , the mother was able to communicate with her family from time to time , by phone. Eventually , they were able to exchange a few pictures--- and this only intensified their hunger  and  hope  to see each other again.   This was the  late 1980s  and early 1990s.

                One day ,  this woman  was  in a bus on her way  to work . It turned out , terrorists  had planted  a  bomb in that bus. It exploded and  killed almost all of the passengers---including this Filipina. She died instantly . Her body sustained gaping wounds and her face --- with the flesh severely torn ---   had become unrecognizable . Her body was shipped back to the Philippines in a metal casket which  was welded to prevent  anyone from opening it .  Israeli and Filipino authorities decided it was best to seal the casket so that no one else could see  the mangled body  and face of the  poor woman . Outside Israel ---the gore  , they correctly decided , should be  concealed  within  the four corners of the coffin.
            So , finally , after seventeen years , this Filipina  went back  home . At long last , mother  and son were  reunited , with the mother in a sealed casket. All those years , the young man longed to see  and to touch  the face of the  woman who brought him to this world.  But now , he could only touch  the cold metal coffin that hid her cadaver .  And all those years in foreign lands  , the mother cried herself to sleep , yearning to cuddle her son . But up the  end of her life , she was denied that chance .
               Could   life  be crueler than this ?  
          Maybe , somewhere … in a  world better than this   …in another lifetime not decayed by violence  ,   they would meet again . The mother  singing  a lullaby and  the son falling  asleep in her arms…






Tuesday 7 October 2014

It Is Profitable To Make Women Feel Ugly


       
                                       

It Is Profitable To Make Women Feel Ugly

marily gayeta 


They  are visual  feasts we see everywhere  . Images  of goddesses descended from the  heavens .  They mesmerize us  as they  appear on our television screens . They seduce us as they arch their backs  on glossy magazine  covers  and giant billboards .  They entice us with their wicked smiles  as they  pop up  on our  computer monitors . Women in the media  , particularly  in  beauty advertisements .  All are  epitomes of modern beauty :  lean  body ,  hour-glass figure , silky hair , flawless white skin .

A  study in the US  reveals that the  average  woman sees 400 to 600 advertisements a day.By the age of 17, an average girl has seen 250,000 ads. More than half of these advertisements use  the concept of “ beauty ” as a product appeal.  The product  is not necessarily  cosmetics or  fashion items --- it can be a fast food restaurant ,  a smart phone or even a car . But just the same , they attract consumers  by using beautiful women in the ads. According to  Chris Downs and Sheila Harrison , whose study was published  in  Sex Roles: A Journal of Research,  one out of every 3.8  television commercials has a message about attractiveness in it.
 Apparently , advertisements  are doing  the jobs they are intended to do.   Otherwise , the advertising and the cosmetic  industries  would not have grown into the  giant industries  that  they are . But how do ads work ?  Dr. George Gerbner , a communications expert   who conducted extensive  research on the effects of television  on people ,  came up with   Cultivation theory . A major idea from this    theory  says  that repetitive exposure to something will  have  cumulative effect over time . Gerbner’s  study actually  did not  focus on   beauty advertisements , but the  conclusions  are applicable.  To expound on  his findings ,  if you bombard  women with   propaganda  showing what “ beauty” should be  and  with   ads of products  that would supposedly make them beautiful ,  they would believe it ---instantly or eventually. Even if there is resistance at the beginning , women will  finally cave in.   

The visual images in the ads  transmit the intended message more effectively than words do . Physical beauty is all that matters  and it can be achieved by buying and using a particular product.  This is the  message that  seeps into the  sub-conscious  mind  of women and subsequently affects  their feelings.  And  research says  that those feelings are, most of the time, negative.

When ordinary women look at these  idealized  images  and then  look at themselves in the mirror  , they see the stark difference. And that  usually hurts.

Philip Myers Jr. and Frank Biocca , both academic researchers , concluded in their study published in the Journal of Communication, that a woman's self-perceived body image can change after watching a half-an-hour of television programming and advertising. On the other hand ,  the  research of  Yoku Yamamiya and Thomas F. Cash  yielded  a more alarming result :  "Even a 5- minute exposure to thin-and-beautiful media images results in a more negative body image  than does exposure to images of neutral object.”
               Tiggemann and Mcgill ( as cited in Serdar ) ,  on the other hand , discovered  that    even brief exposure to images of beautiful  females (11 images) led to increased levels of body dissatisfaction and weight anxiety among women . This finding is disturbing because the number of images used in the study is far less than what is present in any women's magazine or shown in most television programming.

A study by Duane  Hargreaves of Flinders University in South Australia  had similar results . Females who saw ads  with idealized female imagery experienced a greater degree of  body dissatisfaction , negative moods and anger.  Teen-age girls  are more likely to be negatively  affected by what they see on the media.
The studies mentioned above are just  a small part of  extensive  evidence   showing  that women suffer   emotionally  and psychologically  due to  exposure to  beautiful images in  ads and other forms of media. 
But  wait . Isn’t this the very intention of  beauty  advertising ?  To make a consumer  feel  sorry for herself  because she has dark skin . Because she is  fat . Because she has pimples .  Because  she’s getting old. Creators of the ad, and they are very smart, know what’s inside the deep recesses  of a woman’s  mind and  heart . Fully aware of a  woman’s vulnerable spots , they  hit her self-esteem  with underlying messages . You are not good enough . You are not pretty enough . You are ugly . But then , as she squirms on her couch with self-pity ,  she gets the other message . “ Don’t despair , lady ! There’s hope ! Use  our product  and you will be as beautiful as these models .You will get  perfectly white skin .You will have this body . You will catch Mr. Right. “ The woman now  rushes to the nearest mall --- where sales agents wait for the prey who needs only  very little pushing  to buy the product.
 TV shows  are in connivance  with the ads. Most women on TV ( soap operas , entertainment shows  )  are slim and white-skinned.  Other females  who don’t fit this description  are more of the exception than the rule.  Some of them are on a  show for comic relief. 
Today’s women are  willing and unwilling  victims of the media’s   portrayal of what “ beauty ”should be . Though there are many great  things that the media can be credited  for  ,  this is not one of them.  Women are  forced ,  or at least , are pressured to  somehow look like the women they  frequently see on advertisements and TV shows.
But aren’t women paying too much for psychological gratification and conformity ? And  how much of what we  see should we believe ?  
First , let us take a look at the  ads  and  the endorsers’ faces .  The symmetry . The contour .  The  color . The “ texture” . Perfect . But  how near are these images to the  endorsers’ real faces ?   And  how far did the air-brushing and the photoshopping  go ?
We could learn a thing or two from the Advertising Standards Authority ( ASA ) of the United Kingdom.   The ASA –UK  banned  several cosmetic advertisements   which the agency thought  were unrealistic  and  misleading .
These   were the advertisements   banned in the UK  ( but not in other countries ) :  in 2012,  L’Oreal’s Revitalift  Repair 10  with Rachel Weisz as model ; in 2011 , Lancome’s Teint  Miracle Foundation  with Julia Roberts as model ; in 2012 , Dior’s Mascara  with Natalie Portman as model .  ASA – UK officials claimed that the images of the women in these advertisements ---- even if they are really  beautiful in real life ---were too good to be true .  Julia’s and Rachel’s skin  were too  perfect . Natalie’s eyelashes  were  thick  , long  and prim beyond reality .  Creators of the ad admitted  “ digitally enhancing ” the images ---- and this is on top of the  hours spent  by professional stylists  preparing the endorsers   for the  commercial shoot.  These things  are  normal in the ad industry . Thus , the images that consumers  see are  actually  the combined result  of  the endorsers’   physical assets , IT people’s  technical skills  and digital   tools  , and  the  make-up artists’   flair . Then , there are the well- choreographed movements  . And  there is a  fan , yes , that fan---   gently blowing into  the model’s hair.   So many things come into play in the  making  of an ad. It’s not just the model’s face or body . Never.  Most of us know this ---- but we still get duped.
                                                      banned in the UK in 2011 
                                                      banned in the UK in 2012 
                                                   banned in the UK in 2012 

Consumers in the UK are fortunate to have an agency that vigilantly screens  advertisements . They have a disinterested  institution that gives them a wake-up pat in  the face  before they get completely  hypnotized by the ad.  But in most countries ----   the advertising industry  is either loosely regulated or totally unregulated at all.  Consumers are left on their own and just rush to  emotionally-charged purchases.
Aside  from “ perfect faces”   ,  another contentious issue  is the prevalence of  images of thin women .   Television , print media  and the internet  teem  with images of slim  --- rather  thin   ---models  ,  with their collar bones  and ribs sticking  out.  Twenty years ago ,  models   weighed   only eight percent less than the average woman that time . But these days , models weigh 23 percent less than the average woman. One study reveals that most models these days  are 20% underweight --- and this is far from healthy . Yet , women look up to them and try to imitate them.   The  modern  weight  standard is unattainable  for most women --- leading to negative self perception  as studies suggest .  Then , they rush to buy  slimming pills ---- many of which  did not undergo strict laboratory or scientific  testing .  In many countries , especially those with corrupt governments --- it is very easy  for businessmen to get permits  for their products .Many consumers  are not aware that sub-standard diet pills  and  misuse of standard diet pills   may  have serious consequences like blurred  vision , unstable  blood pressure and congestive heart failure .

                                           Women starve themselves  to be slim like them.               

“ White skin ” is another issue .  The skin whitening craze in Asia and Africa has gone to, well , crazy  levels. And it is being fueled  by the  media’s love affair  with  white-skinned models  and  leading ladies . Whitening soaps , whitening lotions, whitening capsules. Then , there are whitening medical procedures  like  lasers  and  intravenous glutathione  .    The media continues  to send the message that white skin is  more beautiful than brown or black skin.  Although skin whitening  has been done by women  for centuries -----it has never been so popular  and widespread as it is these days. 
Skin whitening advertisements  are  everywhere in Asian countries . Many of the endorsers  were born with  white  skin in the first place. That is clear deception.  And it is infuriating  that governments  actually allow  them . ( There should be an  ASA  UK- style in every country. )  And the ads  are getting bolder --- just a strand short of directly  saying that dark skin  is ugly.
These marketing  ploys are succeeding. According to a 2004 study by global marketing firm Synovate, nearly 40 percent of women in Taiwan, Hong Kong, South Korea, Malaysia and the Philippines used skin whitening and lightening products that year. That was ten years ago. The figure must be higher these days. In terms of  purchases , it is said that  Asians  now  spend US$  13  to  18  billion annually on skin whitening products  alone .

                                         
                                                          Women want this skin .


                                              

                                      Before and after . What's wrong with " before " ? 

                                                       


 This  desire   for  white skin  is mainly rooted in colonialism  , particularly in Eurocentrism . Most countries in Asia and Africa were once colonized by white people : Americans , British , French, Spanish .  White is the color of the masters. White is the color of wealth .  On the other hand , black is the color of the slaves. Brown is the color of poverty and ignorance.
Then enter Hollywood ,  selling glittering  entertainment with  pretty sultry white  actors and actresses . From Elizabeth Taylor  to Marilyn Monroe  and now , Scarlett Johansson , Megan Fox  and Jennifer Lawrence .Savvy  businesspeople   capitalized on the phenomenon ---- and launched their skin whitening campaigns.  Their battlecry  is based on an  ancient saying :   “ One whiteness   can cover three ugliness. ” ( Or seven ugliness . The number varies and it is getting  bigger . )
Westerners who  visit  Asian countries  are just shocked  at the skin whitening phenomenon  and the  prejudice that goes with it.
There is a bit of irony here. Asians  and Africans  nowadays are  sensitive  when it comes to racism committed by Westerners. Yet , among themselves , there exists “ colorism ” .  Colorism is a form of prejudice that  favors lighter -skinned people  over  dark-skinned people in the same  ethnic group. When Asians and Africans denounce racism  yet condone colorism--- that is hypocrisy.
Chao-uanTsen, a member of  Awakening Foundation, a womens' rights organization in Taipei , says that the whitening trend is a  “ form of self hatred. “ On the other hand ,  The Beauty Myth author Naomi Wolf  believes  that modern  standards of beauty are “  a plot to keep women politically, economically, and sexually subjugated to men—apparently by keeping them too busy curling their eyelashes to have time for political action .”   These may be extreme views  which should not be taken in their entirety --- but they  have some nuggets of wisdom in them. 
Women like Chao-uan Tsen and Wolf  may  decry this trend until they get hoarse . But  the end to this is so far from sight.
The media and corporations  will not allow  women  to be really happy with themselves   because the moment that happens , it will be the end of many businesses.
A happy , contented woman is a smart , cautious spender . She does not need much because her happiness  comes from within.   Businesses have to make  her  unhappy  , discontented  and irrational --- so that she would  go into a shopping binge  of make-up  , skin whiteners  and  diet pills ( and clothes , accessories ,etc. ).  TV shows  will continue  to glorify    white skin and thin bodies . Advertisements  will continue  to point out flaw after flaw , defect after defect .They will spare no part of the human anatomy : from the scalp  down to the heels.   Armed with catchy  lines   and   images of beautiful women  --- they will continue  to ensnare women into the  vicious  cycle of beauty trap .
Advertising is the lifeblood of  media companies and it is a US$100 billion a year industry. On the other hand ,  the global beauty industry is worth  US$160 billion a year.   There is no way  corporations and individuals   are  going to  let go of that  money . Top  and middle  executives  are buying   mansions , yachts  and  private planes. Sales agents are  making six-digit incomes and even   millions.
Indeed , it is profitable to make women  feel ugly.  
This is not to demonize the media. This is not to paint an ugly picture of all corporations with the same soiled  brush.  They have their own positive contributions  to society  but it is still  the desire for money that rules them.  Businesses exist to earn profit .  They will do what they need to do for better bottomlines .  Ultimately , women are responsible  for their own  decisions and actions.  It is up to women themselves  to stop unbridled , ignorant  consumerism  and blind conformity  to society’s  standards.  
The key is awareness  and balance.
Women have to be aware of how the media impacts  viewers. When a woman  looks at a beauty ad , she should remember  that  it is designed to create emotional discomfort  and to  lower her self-esteem .   She should  guard her own emotions  and determine her own needs . “ Do I really need this product ? Or  will I be wasting my money ?  ”
Awareneness means knowing the options. For instance , many women  do not know  that a  cosmetic  or a pharmaceutical  company  usually produces  both expensive and cheap versions of the same product ( for example ,  moisturizer ) . If the first five ingredients are the same ,  the products would give almost the same result . So , why  burn  your money  on the expensive  version  ?    But women have to develop the habit of  reading  and comparing.  With just a click of the mouse , women can find out which  products  will give value for their money  and which  companies deserve to  be trusted .
Awareness also means knowing  the health issues involved.  Many  Asian  and African women do not know  upon purchase how long   they would have  to be dependent on a  product    to keep  the whiteness of  their skin.  Usually , it’s a lifetime of dependence  [ that is , if the product works at all ] .  That also  means  long-term exposure  to certain substances  .
Sub-standard whitening  products ,  and  some  of them  may have  been approved   by your  government ,  contain mercury and hydroquinone  , both of which have adverse effects on health . It is  also  a well-known fact in scientific circles  that melanin protects  the skin from  cancer . When the skin is stripped of  melanin--- and this is what skin whiteners do --- the person becomes more prone to skin  problems .Says  Dr. Ernesto Gonzalez , director of International Dermatology Training at Boston’s Massachusetts General Hospital,  “ The whiter they become,  the more chances they will be subjected to skin damage and skin cancer."
Kanebo  , a  popular  global cosmetic brand based in Japan , has built a reputation for excellent products. Yet , in 2013 , it had to recall  some of its   skin whitening products   because some  customers developed ugly   blotches on their skin ---- instead of the smooth ,flawless white skin that was promised in their advertisements. This incident is a proof that things can go wrong  even in the most strictly supervised corporatons.  
            Advertisements  gloss over  not-so-pretty facts  and sales agents  won’t volunteer  them.  They are actually experts at evading “ uncomfortable “ questions . And it is not a wise move to ask questions  to  somebody  who stands to gain money  from you . Therefore , women  have to dig for the information themselves.

Awareness   also means distinguishing   between  capricious  cosmetic issues   and  genuine  medical  concerns   that are worth spending on.  For example ,  morbid obesity does  need medical attention  because it is  closely associated with cardiac diseases , diabetes and other illnesses.    On the other hand , a flab in the belly is not necessarily life-threatening , and  can be either flaunted  or hidden by an appropriately cut dress.   Chronic  acne  should  also  be treated because  of the discomfort   caused by the inflammation and the itching .Dark skin , on the other hand ,   is not a medical problem.  It is a perception problem. Same   is true with wrinkles ,   flat noses  and line-less  eyelids  typical  of many Southeast Asian women. A perception problem can be solved by changing the way we look at ourselves and the way we handle criticism .   The solution can be found inside us --- not inside a jar  or a clinic. And it is free. 
Women who constantly feel insecure  without  make-up  or  women who always feel paranoid about how other people  judge their  physical appearance  may have  deep-seated problems. Women who go overboard trying to please society  may be emotionally disturbed .  They  need  a psychiatrist , not a  cosmetologist , not a  dermatologist  and certainly not a plastic  surgeon.
Now ,  let  us be realistic . Let’s  put our thoughts in the  context of the current society  where women live .

No woman---no matter how intelligent ---  can be  totally  immune from the effects of  beauty advertising.  She will be affected , whether she admits it or not , whether she knows it or not. No woman --- no matter how independent   --- can completely stand up against  the pressures of society to look good. She will have to conform –whether she likes it or not.  And  no woman  can completely ignore  the longings  nature has   ascribed to  her gender .  Which  woman had not  wished , at least once in her life ,   to be given  a second  admiring  look by  men?
But it is the extent  to which she allows  herself  to be pressured by outside forces . It is the degree to which she allows the media, businesses  and society to influence   what she should buy , how much she should spend,  how she should look and how she should feel about herself.
A woman will always need to  be neat , clean   and presentable  for herself ,   her family  and   her career. She can do that without much  toll on her income  and with minimum rituals  in front of the mirror.  

We don’t want   women losing  hard-earned money  on products that hardly work , or products that they don’t need at all.  “  The fool and his money are soon parted ” , as a sage once said . (Well , “ her “ would be the better  pronoun here . )  Money that should have gone to family savings  had gone instead to a bottle of diet pills. Money that should have been spent   on cheaper   life-saving procedures like mammogram or cervical cancer screening  had been spent on a jar of whitening cream . And how many women have buried themselves on a pile of   debts  by carelessly swiping their credit cards for that “  new volumizing mascara” , “ smudge-free lipstick” … the list of women’s whims is endless.
We  want women to use make-up with simplicity in mind . We don’t want them to  be  ridiculed for being “ pretty “ almost  beyond recognition. What’s the point of looking like a movie star only because of  make-up ? What happens when you  wash that mask off ?  A simple  face powder and a thin layer of  lip stick will do. The nearer your made-up face is  to your natural face , the better .  No need  for heavy  make-up  that only makes you  look like a  cosplayer or an aging  whore.

We also don’t want women starving themselves to  anorexic levels , or working –out too hard  because they want to  get slim. Women should eat right and  do exercise to be healthy , and not to please an appearance-obsessed society. They don’t need to deprive themselves of  the gustatory delight a slice of cheese cake brings , or the pleasure of lingering on  a soft bed. “ Moderation ” is the word.  Anything in excess is bad. 
We don’t want Asian and African women  feeling ashamed of  their brown  or black skin .We don’t want young girls  from these places  to grow up insecure ,  thinking  that there is something wrong with dark skin.   If there is something   wrong  that we should  all be ashamed of --- it is  racism  , colorism , looksism ,  greed   and deception.  
The idea that “ beautiful women  have it all ” is an exaggeration  that  we see on the media . Nobody has it all.   Yes , physical beauty , as the  media  currently defines it ,  has advantages . Let’s accept that . But only to a certain extent. At the end of the day ,  it is still the things that  our grandmothers taught us that would spell the difference between success and failure .  
 Let us mention two women who don’t fit into the modern standard of slim and white beauty   --- and yet  were able to scale great heights .  
Indra Nooyi , the Indian –born American  CEO of Pepsi Cola since 2006 is consistenly listed as one of the most powerful women in the world . Her business acumen  has  sent shivers to the spine  of Pepsi Cola’s competitors.  Cristeta Comerford , the  Filipino-American executive chef of the  White House has been nourishing  and delighting American  presidents, their families  and guests since 2005. Look at them . Two simple women –with exemplary accomplishments.  Even in our own communities , there are many other women --- plain looking women , dark-skinned women , overweight women , even women with physical handicaps --- who have successful careers and relationships . But we don’t see them , we don’t notice them ---because we keep on looking at  that  girl on the billboard . 

                               Women we should be looking up to.
                        

                                                   Indra Nooyi 


                               Cristeta Comerford  with US First Lady  Michelle Obama 




We want women to stop comparing themselves   to  ad endorsers , movie stars and models  whose careers  and lives have  far different requirements from theirs.  We  want  women to  see their own  worth  and  feel proud of who they are . We want them to focus on things that really matter :  character ,   brains, health . We want them ,  not other people , to  choose for themselves  how they would look  and how they would feel .  And we want women to realize that they can be  truly beautiful  in whatever shape  , size , age   or color they are in.




Sources / Works Cited
Alkon , A. ( 2010 Nov 1 ) .The truth about beauty.www.psychologytoday.com.

Hirsi, I. ( 2013 Aug 21 ) Somali woman researches health risks of skin lightening practices. Minneapolis
     Post .
Kendrick. ( 2013 July 4 ) Voluntary recall of products ( Skin Care ) www.facestorysg.wordpress.com

Kilbourne, J. (n.d.) The beauty and the beast of advertising . www.medialit.org

Navert,R. ( n.d. ) Media can damage self-image. www.psychcentral.com

Ross , K. ( 2014 March 11 ) Asia skin lightening --- an obsession that’s here to stay.
       www.goarticles.com

Serdar, K. ( n.d. ) Female body image  and the  mass media : Perspectives on how women internalize
            the ideal beauty standard. www.westminstercollege.edu

Swinson, J. ( 2011 Aug 10 ) False beauty in advertising and the pressure  to look good.
          www.cnn.com

Tsang , E. ( 2013 July 5 ) Kanebo  recalls skin whitening products.  South China Morning Post.

Zafar , A. ( 2012  Feb 3 ).Too perfect ? Rachel Weisz’s L’Oreal ad banned in Britain for being
         misleading. www.time.com

Websites
www.jour.unr.edu.  Advertisements and their negative effects on women and girls.  June 30,2004
www.scalar.usc.edu. Asia’s skin whitening craze .
www.globalpost.com. Why white skin is all rage in Asia .
www.reuters.com. L’Oreal UK ads banned for retouched photos. July 27 ,2011.
www.thebeautybrains.com.  Avoiding  the anti-aging quackery.
                                                  ( e-mail received on September 29, 2014 )
www.wikipeda.com Effects of advertising on teen body image .
www.economist.com . Pots of promise.
www.asa.org.uk. ( Rulings )










Thursday 4 September 2014


                                       In the Line of Fire
                                            msgayeta

                 March 28 , 2011 --- about 3:00  in the morning , Sebha City , Libya .A muffled explosion woke me up  from sleep .  I rushed  to  the  balcony of my fourth-floor apartment   and , from out of the dark  sky  , made out  a funnel of smoke , about  six  kilometers away . It  was most  likely  another NATO airstrike  intended to bring strongman  Moammar Gaddafi to his knees.
               Three nights  before that ,  I was standing on the  same  balcony with a cup of  coffee in my hand.  I was looking  at the pitch black sky  and breathing in the uneasy calm . From out of the blue , the sky spewed out a missile. Its lighted tail beautifully  cut  through   the dark  sky . I hardly blinked  as my eyes followed its trail . Wow , just like in the movies .The  speed , the color, the blaze. Awe . Then , fear . This is not a movie . This is for  real .I could die . Yes , it was a missile from a stealth , radar-evasive  jet fighter. As the US and NATO assured the world , the  airstrike   was focused and controlled .  The missile   went right  to its target ---- the arsenal ---  and didn't cause much stir . I heaved a sigh of relief .
                With my fears allayed by this harmless precedent , I  went back to  sleep ,  only to be violently roused half an hour later .  Our building , a four-story structure ,  jolted  three times . They were  sharp , ominous tremors.  I dressed  up in a frenzy and  grabbed my emergency bag where I kept my passport , some clothes , toiletry and money. I had prepared this   bag the month before  and kept it at my bedside . With  the highly unstable situation, I knew I had to be ready .The building shook again . Then , a thunderous  sound of an explosion. My heart  pounded in my chest . My mind went blank.   My worst fear had come .The claws of war  were now rapping at my door.
               The Libyan War erupted the previous month , February 17 , to be exact . It was a spill -over  of the mass actions  that gained momentum   from  neighboring  Tunisia. It  started with a 26-year-old  Mohammed Bouasisi, a  fruit vendor  who was too poor to pay for a business license . The police humiliated him and confiscated his produce and weighing scale . After repeated failed attempts to  recover at least his weighing scale , Bouasisi  got desperate . On December 17 , 2010 , in full view of the public , he doused himself with gasoline  and set himself on fire. After being in critical condition  for two weeks,  Bouasisi   died on January 4, 2011. His death sparked   a wave of  revolutions  in Tunisia  and  in other Arab countries. It was dubbed as the Arab Spring . Authoritarian leaders , well-entrenched in the corridors of power , fell one by one .After just a month , Libya was seething in conflict.


                                    view from my  window : they're fighting again  
             
               Despite  bloody incidents in other Libyan cities  , war-related violence was still minimal in  Sebha City , a known Gaddafi turf in the south of the country .The fragile peace gave me some sense of security  .
            But now , with ear-shattering  explosions  around ,  and the building shaking like there was an intense tectonic  earthquake  , I felt I was  in   imminent danger . What is  happening  outside ? No idea. How stable is this building ? Not sure . I decided  it was best to get out of it . My phone rang. It was my student advising me to evacuate .She was trying to  tell me  where to go  so that her family could pick me up . Too confused to understand anything , I just assured her that  I would be fine  and abruptly ended the call. I managed to open the door after a few frantic turns of the key  and almost flew down the flight of stairs .The other tenants  had already left.
            I found them at the back of the building ,  in a small , sandy  vacant lot.  I hunkered  with them. We took cover next to a low sturdy concrete fence .  We were about twenty.  There were families with small  children. Fear was clearly written on the women’s faces .  The children , though still playful , were edgy .  The three men in our group , carrying armalites, were poised  like our defenders .They  scolded the women  who were crying   in panic.  Other neighbors were boarding their cars and trucks , obviously to flee from danger .
            NATO , indeed , had  again targeted  the  vast  military arsenal . Like  the first one , the airstrike  that early  morning  was  cautious to avoid civilian casualties . But what was beyond NATO’s control  was  the chain reaction triggered by  its  airstrike .The domino effect  was  proving to be  more dangerous .The secondary  explosions were more massive  and more ferocious. They were now wreaking  havoc on the city . Imagine a  Gaddafi arsenal . Full to the brim. A   stockpile of  guns , grenades and grenade launchers ,  ammunition , bombs and other implements of modern  warfare. Add to that military vehicles: from  jeeps to armored personnel carriers , all filled with fuel . And then barrels and barrels of fuel in the depot.  Now , those weapons , vehicles  and fuel  were  exploding either   simultaneously or one after another .Sebha City  was in  chaos.
             From our spot ,  I  could see  flashes of light from the burning  arsenal . The red-orange flames contrasting with the pitch black sky lent a brutal beauty to the mayhem. The fire  grew higher and  fiercer every time  something  was ignited . Sometimes ,  the ball of fire seemed big enough to engulf the whole city . The arsenal was like a giant beast  spitting fire and throwing  out live grenades , bombs , gunpowder containers , barrels of fuel --- all burning and exploding  . Each  explosion sent  a strong  gust of wind  , shook   the ground under our feet and blasted  our ears. Car alarms blared . Glass windows in nearer buildings and houses  were shattered  to smithereens . The   scene was surreal to me. Is this  really happening ? At times , I tried to distract myself by toying with my phone , but I could still see  the inferno from the periphery of my   eyes .
            Questions rose in  my mind. Why did I not get out of this country when I had the chance ? Was it plain stupidity to stay ?
As soon as the war broke out  , foreigners started evacuating from Libya . Rich countries like the US and China , with their giant logistical machinery, were able to pull out their people in one  swoop . On the other hand , the Philippine government , with its  little resources , could only evacuate its people in  slow, limited steps . There were about 30,000  Filipinos in Libya that time  and it was a herculean task to evacuate all of them .The government just  didn't have enough  means to  do it .  I fully  understood  that .  I never complained about  the government’s  scanty efforts . In fact , with my decision to  work overseas came the acceptance  that  I would have to rely entirely on myself when push comes to shove. That time had come .
 Hundreds of thousands of migrant workers  from  different countries   were headed  to the Tunisian-Libyan  border . Different organizations  were  there waiting to give aid but their efforts could not match the enormity  of the  crisis. CNN aired  harrowing  stories  of evacuees. It showed footage of  the  chaotic   scenario at the border .Life-threatening stampedes. Virtually non-existent sanitation .Snail-paced processing of documents.  And to  reach  that  border  from where I was required two days of risky  land trip  that would expose  us to gun fights , robbery and other forms of assault .   Another route for escape was through other sub-Saharan countries , where perils of equal or even bigger  magnitude  awaited  evacuees. Common criminals  and terrorists had plotted sinister plans  and set  up  traps  in isolated places where they waited for their prey . Many had been waylaid . Those who managed to evade these outlaws risked  death by  starvation , dehydration and  heat stroke  in the outskirts of the Sahara Desert. So ,would I flee or would I stay  ?  I weighed my options .
 I  stayed . 
A major reason for this decision  was money . My dwindling  bank account in the Philippines  was  far from enough for my plans. I was only on my second year in Libya . Any Overseas Filipino worker , or OFW , knows that on the  first year , most of  the  earnings  will go to a myriad of  loans . I was not exempted from that burden.
If I stayed up to the end of the school year , I may  be able to bring home  some more money .Yes , “ may ”. Nothing was certain. If I stayed , I may be able to recoup my losses .International  financial transactions  had been cut off. The US dollar and other currencies were in the hands of   select government institutions, or in the hands of greedy  businessmen. The exchange rates they  asked  for were morally revolting .The value of our salary was almost halved.
Honestly , I was more afraid  of going home broke  than going home dead. I shared that kind of dread with  other  Filipinos . Many were  unwilling to leave Libya  because of dim  situations  back home. We stayed and gambled with the most precious  thing we had : our very lives. Against all odds , we were hoping that things would return to normal , we could go back  to work,  get paid  and go home with something .
But there was another reason for the  decision to stay .Skeptics would not  believe it.  It is  not just the money . It is  also  the love for the job and the students .  We were committed to  the education of Libyan youth . With many foreign teachers gone, many classes had been left teacher-less.  Libyan students were hungry for knowledge. They were very eager to learn . I, with some other teachers  , stayed to salvage whatever could be salvaged in the semester . We went to school and taught whenever we thought it was safe to do so. Connected to our students by  mobile phones , we  alerted each other whenever there was a gunfight or a bombing . When the fighting subsided ,  teachers  would go back to the college  and teach  whoever was there .We  wanted  to lend  even an iota of normalcy to the students’ lives.
           As a  university teacher, I was  in direct contact with the  Libyan  youth. I knew their sentiments . I could feel the simmering tension. Classes were polarized by opposing  political beliefs. Friendships had been severed .  Cordial relationships had turned sour . Teachers were aware of the raw nerves and cooled down arguments right away before they turned nasty. Or deadly . In a place where guns are as ubiquitous as the sand , the last thing  we wanted   were  heated, emotional  debates .


                                      

                                                              at the university 

                I  made sure that my neutrality was clear to my students .I didn't want to hurt or offend any of them . When asked whether I was pro-Gaddafi  or pro-revolution , I would say : Pro-Libyan . But  most of the time , I kept mum. It  was the best thing to do.
           War  drastically changed  my students’ lives . I had witnessed how carefree teenagers changed into socially-  aware  citizens. I had seen how  weak  girls turned  into  tough orphans . Before my eyes , timid boys  transformed into fearless warriors , brandishing armalites and guns. It broke my heart whenever a boy  bid me goodbye to join the war . Empty  classroom seats , which I previously  dismissed  as  bouts of  illness or laziness , now worried me no end .  Has  Khalid  gone to the battlefield ?  Or  has  Mariam  been  caught in the cross-fire ?  These young men and women  were a  part of  my decision to stay. I cared and still care for those kids.  I realized from my experience that  a teacher can not NOT LOVE  her students.  Even if they are not related   by race and religion . Even if  they are sometimes  rude and annoying  .The moment she finds out that they are in harm’s way--- she forgives them instantly  and starts  worrying about them as if they are her own children. And even  now , as I have moved on in my career, my   heart still  aches  for my boys who went to war and never came back.
            There was another  reason  to stay  .Was it the challenge? Maybe . The Arab Spring  was  a momentous part of history and it was  unfolding right before my eyes.  I was in it. While international journalists were scrambling to gain access to Libya ,  I was already there . Right in the  middle  of the action .  If  I couldn't get out of it  , I might as well benefit from it .War is a great teacher . I would learn from it, no matter how hard and painful the lessons may be .Is there a classroom  better  than a warzone? Is there a test tougher than this ?  If I survived  here , I would survive anywhere .
        A barrage of gunfire .
            I peeked  from over the fence beside which we were crouching. Pro-Gaddafi forces  were streaming  to the streets , all armed to the teeth. They were in military vehicles,  armored personnel carriers and  pick-up trucks .  Snipers stationed themselves on  roof tops.  Many of them thought that anti-Gaddafi  rebels were already on the ground and were ready to fight  them to the death. Anti-aircraft  machines  shot up blue  and red light  into the sky. Soldiers  and  civilians alike fired their powerful guns up  in the air ,  in a desperate attempt  to kill an invisible  intruder. Some  of them  were just panic-shooting and that  doubled the  danger  for us .  The  early morning mist  reeked of gun powder. 
             We had been hunkering for about an hour and a  half now . Suddenly , a cylinder of metal ,  probably  two feet long , appeared from the sky  .It looked like a part of military  machine or maybe a bomb in itself. We didn't  know exactly what it was.  It was  burning on one end , flying towards our direction. The tremendous impact of the explosion must have hurled it far into the sky. When we spotted it , it was  just about twenty  feet above  us . On the first two or three seconds  upon seeing  the menacing  chunk, we were  all  petrified . Nobody  could move .  “ This would be a nasty death .” I muttered to myself as I froze . Then , the adrenalin  rush. We scampered ,  then , hurled ourselves to the ground. The chunk   landed  about  three feet  from  where we were initially huddling. Many of us could have been hit ,  had we not moved in the nick of time.   Fortunately , it  did not explode . Had it exploded , the ten-foot distance  we managed to cover  would  not have been enough to  save us . This  close call totally convinced me  that I would die that day. I tried to calm my nerves.
          Again , I started musing .Funny how one can become nostalgic in the face of death . But why not ? Except for my emergency bag , memories were all I had. I traced my  journey to this north African country.
               I  first arrived in Libya on October 18 , 2009  to  teach English in a state university .I was assigned in   Sebha City , about 640 kilometers from the capital Tripoli .Security concerns  about Libya have always been  legitimate  but  the job opportunity  knocked at  the right time . “Right time ” means that my finances  had hit rock bottom . Ignoring  risks to my life and limb,I packed my suitcase  and kissed  my family good- bye.
             My first  year in  Libya was  actually better than I expected . Libyans   are  wonderful people. Friendly , hospitable , passionate . They are loyal friends but terrible foes.   The locals  made my life in their country  as comfortable as it could be . As I  started     to feel at  ease  with the people and the beige-toned Arab terrain, I laid out my  plans .  Pay loans, save money for the kids’ education , put up a business, save for old age , travel . But  the war derailed those plans.  Those things seemed so  far beyond my reach now. In the flames of the   bombed arsenal , I saw my dreams going up in smoke.  I wasn’t even sure whether I could get back home in one piece, literally.
Another blast  brought  my mind back . Then, a lull.
I decided to make a phone call to the Philippines. The voice of a loved one  would still my  troubled heart .  I remember my impatient  excitement  as the phone on the other end started to ring . “ Somebody please , pick up the phone before I get hit by a bomb ! ”. Somebody answered. It was   my ten-year-old  son , my only son.  He was home alone.   I said the usual “  How are you doing ? ” , “ How’s school ? ”, “ Don’t bike too fast ”.  I tried to imagine his face : white cheeks ,   chinky eyes ,  curly hair , pug nose . I may not be able to see that face again. And the face of my daughter , my husband   and  my other loved ones.  My chest tightened . I did not tell my son  the predicament I was in.  He didn't  deserve to be tormented that way. Having been   comforted by my son’s  voice ,  I said good-bye.
Now , a different but pleasant sound .
               It was the  solemn call  for the morning Islamic prayer .  There were two mosques nearby . The calls , I noticed  , were  more eloquent than ever. They were a welcome  respite  from the crashing thunder of the bombs .The Libyans knelt prostrate on the ground and prayed . I found it highly admirable . With the world crashing down around them , they managed to keep still and pray . Irreligious even as a Catholic Christian , I ironically  found  the  strange prayer  soothing  and calming .I said my prayers too , in English . God understands all languages anyway.
                 Daylight was breaking . The Libyans  who were with me  started going off somewhere else . A  neighbor approached me and invited me to his house .  His wife and children  were gathered in a room. They graciously offered me a pillow and a blanket .  Tea and bread  were immediately served . With their broken English  and my  broken Arabic , we managed to exchange a few stories . Our conversation , of course , was regularly interrupted by tremors and  roars of detonating  bombs.
               At about 10:00 in the morning , the explosions and the indiscriminate  shooting   had  subsided .  The arsenal was finally running out of combustible supply. The beast     had almost  spent out   its   hellish breath .  I   bid good-bye to the Libyan family and thanked them profusely  for the shelter  and comfort.  I traced my steps back to our   building. As I dragged my feet up to the fourth floor, I surveyed the  building  for any sign of damage. Fortunately , it endured the bombing. I surely underestimated its strength .  I would learn later that day that several buildings  collapsed and dozens of people  were injured.  Some pregnant women miscarried their babies .
                 I meticulously examined  my apartment . I groped  the walls  and windows . No cracks . Then , I ran my  eyes  on the  beams  and  ceilings.  Still solid .  I checked the fragile things.  My TV , laptop, oven , plates , glasses  and  mirrors. I was pleasantly surprised . Everything  was in its proper place.  Everything  was  intact .

                 Nothing  was   in disarray .  Except  for my mind.  Nothing  was   broken . Except for  my spirit . I lay on my bed  and wept . 


                                that's  my bed : the silent witness to my fears and  tears