Yesterday, June 28^th, Frank Lampard scored a goal for the English side that bounced off the cross bar down into the German goal. The ball continued to bounce – out of the goal to be recovered by the keeper and punted without a goal being called by the referee. Later that day, during a match with Mexico, Argentina’s Tevez received a clearly offsides pass from Messi to score early on. The goal stood.

Now, all sports have officiating blunders, but soccer has more than most. These are simply examples of all too common occurrences in international football. Bad calls change the pace of the game and the teams’ moral. Bad calls cost games. Bad calls give games away. Bad calls piss people off. The winners feel less good and the losers are irate. Furthermore, consider that the World Cup happens every four years and is enthusiastically, if not fanatically, followed by fans around the globe. It’s a source of national pride and international camaraderie. As far as sports go, it’s pretty important.

But it’s not only because the World Cup is important that the officiating should be top-quality, its also because it is so easy to make it better. In many other sports Video Instant Replay is used to sort out contentious calls. Giving each team a few challenges per game to review official calls with Instant Replay would avoid these kinds of unfair and reputation damaging calls.

I was watching Turkish television with my roommate Steve the other day. On one channel we saw oil wrestling, a traditional Turkish sport where two young men oil themselves up and wrestle in shorts, and I commented that it was funny that they were in an open field – no arena, no stands, no defined boundaries of any kind. After a minute of thinking, I continued by saying that all sports probably started in fields like this, but at some point you really need to embrace technology and chalk some out-of-bounds lines. I feel the same way about FIFA, stop ruining soccer.

-Charles P. Pearson

Here are a few articles on the subject:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/football/world_cup_2010/8768743.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/football/world_cup_2010/8771294.stm

http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport2/hi/football/world_cup_2010/matches/match_52/default.stm

When living in a place you hopefully get to know the people around you, even if it is mere polite acknowledgement. More than any other neighborhood, Kahramanlar has made me feel welcome. In some ways I’m a mini-celebrity. A foreigner who speaks Turkish is relatively rare, especially in this little nook of the city. If I lived in Cihangir, the diplomatic and artistic center of Istanbul, no one would notice or care about me. Not the case here – everyone is very friendly and interested in me. Why am I learning Turkish? Why am I living in Kahramanlar? Etc. My girlfriend recently pointed out that she knows more people in my neighborhood than her own because everyone talks with us.

It’s also systematic. In Southern California, where I am from, the suburban layout of most of the state discourages walking anywhere. There is little public transportation infrastructure so we barely come face to face except through a car window waiting in traffic. Further, there are almost no public places. In most American communities the popular ‘public spaces’ for congregating are actually privately owned – shopping malls, movie theaters, and so on. Even in daily business transactions personal interactions are corporatized. In the supermarket you put everything you want in the basket and only converse with another human being upon paying, and sometimes not even then. Even if you go to the same place everyday, the employees may be different. Building relationships with people in your community is more challenging.

The system here in Kahramanlar is different (although not in all of Turkey, the suburbs of large cities resemble that of Southern California). Rather than there being mega-stores where you go and buy everything you need at one place, there are countless tiny family-owned businesses. And unlike those large one-stop-shop stores, in Kahramanlar you have to speak to the attending family member to buy anything and everything. I used to get annoyed by this, after all, sometimes you aren’t in the mood to chat – but overall it is rewarding. I am friendly with most of the people around me. These days I can’t walk down the street without waving at someone. Here’s an example; the bakery downstairs. They make breads, morning pastries, as well as cakes and other deserts. They also have the best ice-cream in Izmir, made on the premises with fresh ingredients for minimal cost. I drop in there two or three times a day. The staff are overwhelmingly warm. The owner perceives that we have some connection between us because my ancestors are from Scotland and his are from Trabzon – both places are cold and rainy and the people have a bagpipe, or tulum in Turkish. He uses our ‘connection’ every time he wants to convince me of something, like how I should change futbol team allegiance from Galatasaray to Trabzonspor. They made a special cake for my girfriend’s birthday, they round down the prices, and they always say hello with a smile as I’m walking by.

I’ll leave here soon, heading back to California. Even if I were to move back to Turkey in the near future I doubt I’ll end up in this neighborhood. I’ll be sad to leave it and its smiling faces.

-Charles P. Pearson

Many friends disagree with me on this point – but if I can’t get into a story or topic, be it a movie or a book, I will give it up without a second thought. A lot of people will refuse to get up in the middle of a movie, no matter how terrible it is. Those friends argue that you have to give the story a chance to unfold, and that the story as a whole may be redeeming when the component parts are not. True, but I don’t think it happens that often. A novel I recently read about Sudan, Something is Going to Fall Like Rain by Ros Wynne-Jones, redeemed itself after a slow start by being unconventional even though I knew the ending (spoiler alert, it’s genocide!). More often than not you just waste time. How many times have you had the following thought while coming out of a movie theater?; Well, thats two hours of my life I’ll never get back! And you never will. Never! So, here are a few books which I have recently put down before their conclusions.

Margaret Atwood’s The Year of the Flood. A work of fiction 431 pages long, it is futuristic, apocalyptic, and annoying. The story centers around a cult of roof-top gardeners who preach unity, organic living, and rejection of the corporate society around them that has fallen into degradation and despair. Atwood paints a vivid picture of how the world had so imbibed consumerism and scientific advancement that humaneness was nowhere to be found. Sounds interesting, right? It was, at first. I usually like science-fiction, especially regarding possible future worlds. The Year of the Flood, on the other hand, focused too much on painting a picture that plot was lacking. Throughout the novel the author kept making up lots of different names for the fictional-future; for example, CorpSeCorps, BlyssPluss, Tex-Mexicans, Sewage Lagoon, SolarSpace, HelthWeyzer, etc. I got to page 195 before I realized nothing was happening.

Albert Camus’ A Happy Death. I was surprised at this one. I had read Camus’ The Stranger and The Plague and enjoyed them both immensely. However, A Happy Death was too existentialist for my taste. It’s not all Camus’ fault – I have a requirement of stories; I have to identify with, and maybe even like, at least one of the characters. I can’t help it. A Happy Death was purposefully empty of ‘good’ characters, but unlike The Stranger and The Plague, the storyline and philosophical quality just didn’t justify reading on. I got about half way through.

Christopher McDougall’s Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen. I had seen the author plug the book during an interview on The Daily Show, and despite not liking him very much I thought the topic was fascinating – a tribe of indigenous peoples, the Tarahumara, who dwell in the vast Copper Canyons in Mexico were among the premier marathon runners in the world, and were almost unknown. Unfortunately, like in the Daily Show interview, McDougall, who is a character in the book, got under my skin. There were too many cliches about how natural running is and how it sets you free. I thought it especially ironic how McDougall repeated how precious the canyons’ isolation was to the Tarahumara and how they were the world of sports’ best kept secret, when he decided to write a book that would become a national best-seller. In addition to not liking the narrator, after 94 pages I realized there wasn’t much first-hand information about these people at all, and I started to question how much contact he actually had with these elusive canyon-residents. Instead the book had become about running and anecdotes about famous runners or people in the business. I stopped well shy of 287 pages.

Maybe these books do blossom into excellent reads, but there are so many books on my reading list that I just can’t give them the time.

-Charles P. Pearson

First of all, the games are usually on sometime between 3:30 and 7:30 in the morning, which is prime sleeping time. But none the matter, that alone wouldn’t stop me. What stops me is the lack of coverage on local television. Last year I was lucky, Hedo Turkolgu was on the Orlando Magic, which were in the NBA finals, and thus the games received coverage on major networks in Turkey. This year I am not so lucky, Hedo’s new team Toronto didn’t make the playoffs and Mehmet Okur (another Turk), who is on the Utah Jazz, is injured. Sidenote: it was funny because many people here ran out and bought Orlando Magic merchandise during the finals last May, but since Hedo was traded shortly thereafter all that gear was pretty much made worthless. If I were a NBA team owner I’d get Yao Ming just for merchandising in China… but I’m pretty sure they are capable of supplying their own knock-offs. Another sidenote: I would fail my students if they did say they were Lakers fans.

There are two channels that cover the games, NTV Spor and NBA TV – the first I get in nine second intervals before mysteriously going to static, and the second requires an extensive cable package which I don’t have. I don’t know why NTV Spor loses connection after ten seconds, but it does. I’ve tried everything to fix it (see picture), but I just can’t get it to function right. The result is that I am in front of my tiny TV at 5:30am flipping the channel back and forth every nine seconds in order to get a clear picture again. It is exhausting and I seem to miss all the great moments. I also tried watching the games online, but my internet is slow and I can only find streaming video. If I could find a place to download games I could watch them later without knowing the result (any help?)

Attempt #17 to get the antenna to be reasonable.

There are no basketball bars – despite the sport’s popularity here. And even if there were, they wouldn’t be open in the wee hours of the morn.

I have a friend here who lets me come to his house on the other side of the city in the middle of the night to watch games on NBA TV, an option I’ve not taken up until the playoffs. Regardless of the physical weariness it causes the next day, it is my best option. And I’ll do it with a smile, because I love watching Lakers’ games. Go Lakers.

-Charles P. Pearson

When abroad, as I am now, these stereotypes will come up now and again. I’m no ultra-nationalist, but it does irritate be when someone else points out your faults. Sure, we are fat, yeah, and kind of stupid – but I don’t need to hear it from someone from another country who I just met. So, defensively, I always end up addressing these stereotypes with a couple of points.

The first issue I wish to address is that America is not one homogenous unit, it is quite culturally and demographically diverse.  Obesity is a problem for the country (and the world), but the highest concentration of obese Americans is in the Southeast and Midwest (see Calorielab.com). On the education front the geographic distribution is strikingly similar – the Northeast and West Coast are heavily represented on the top end of a study ranking states by percentage of university graduates of the population, while Southeastern and Midwestern states tend towards the lower half (see US Census). At this point of the conversation, I usually mention that these geographic disparities have a name associated with each region’s political affiliation – Red States (Republican), largely the Southeast and the Midwest, and Blue States (Democrat), the Northeast and the West Coast. I then remind them that I am from California. If my conversation buddy knew their business, they’d point out that Californian schools are bankrupt and future generations may not fare as well in the rankings, but they seldom know this.

The second major point I press upon my listener is my observation that foreign populaces aren’t much better regarding knowledge of the world (excluding Northern Europe, they are educated like crazy, but kind of fat too – Germany ranks fourth in global fatness). In my time as an English teacher in Panama and Turkey I’ve had access to many, many people and their knowledge. My students don’t know anything about geography. I mean very, very little. However, I STILL imagine Americans know less – but there are good explanations. Americans, by and large, do not need to know anything about other countries, including their languages or geographical positions, during the course of their normal lives. Bear in mind, this is an explanation, not a justification. Why should an electrician in Nebraska ever need to know anything about another country (save Spanish) to live his/her entire life?, with the nearest international border being almost 1,000 miles away (1,690 km)?  Contrast this with a citizen from a much smaller and less powerful country, learning foreign languages and customs may just be the key difference in their ability to generate income – especially in places where tourism is important. Furthermore, Americans do not have information readily provided to them every morning about Panama, Turkey, or most other nations. On the other hand, in Panama, Turkey, and other nations the US is frequently on the front pages of their newspapers and in the headlines of their nightly broadcasts. It would take a reclusive simpleton not to know somethings about the US’s foreign policy, to say nothing of its culture and people whose doings are exported continuously through movies, television, and music. Despite this, sometimes all foreigners know about the US are these stereotypes.

To conclude; it is our loss. Americans are still fat and we don’t know much about the world or its peoples. And it’s a problem. We suffer because our democracy cannot function well when we celebrate, or at least are indifferent to ignorance. We suffer because we will be less competitive in international business, just at a time when our economic size alone will no longer be enough. We suffer because the personal and social benefits of education, particularly of languages and other peoples, is invaluable to an advanced and civilized society. We suffer because of the health costs, to ourselves and our system, by being so grotesquely overweight. And the worst part is, we are not the only losers – American power has been wielded irresponsibly at times, and much of that is due to our being too fat and stupid to stop it.

-Charles P. Pearson

News Corporation owns the who’s-who of right wing media, television, newspapers, and tabloids; The Weekly Standard, Star, The Sun, The New York Post, and of course, Fox News, not to mention endless lesser names in media. The Australian’s empire spans media outlets from Asia, Australia, North America, to Europe. Murdoch takes a personal interest in his business. Directives on political positions come straight from the top (see The Man Who Owns The News by Michael Wolff). Whether it is good for his profit margin to fiercely advocate extreme rightist policies, or whether it is his personal crusade, or both, the end result is a mockery of news.

Television news isn’t the most in-depth source of information, regardless of which corporation owns the channel. However, Fox News takes irresponsibility to a whole new level – creating a machine of television personalities spewing constant chatter filled with outrageous claims and accusations, accepted as truth by many not because they are supported by any sort of evidence or logical accompaniment, but because they are relentless and self-righteous. Cass R. Sunstein, in his book On Rumors, describes the process by which baseless rumors become widely accepted facts. He illuminates the motivations of different types of rumor-propagators, how information legitimizes when it transferred from person to person, and how our human instincts to trust the wisdom of the group trumps our own intelligence. Fox News is a collective propagator of malicious information. How many people believe President Barack Obama is a Muslim? Or that he was born in Kenya? Or that he hates white people? Or that he ‘pals around’ with terrorists?

This is the danger of Murdoch’s bussiness. His News Corporation masquerades as a news corporation, claiming to be ‘Fair and Balanced’ (Fox News’ slogan). Newspeople have been a source of authority in the United States, a source of trust. His appendages have abused this trust by packaging propaganda as information, with a complete disregard for truth and impartiality. The fourth branch of our Republic’s checks and balances has been disabled by the trends News Corporation has created, which other news agencies have replicated in many regards.

So when I learned MySpace was owned by News Corporation, I decided to close my account. Once I found the link to close my account, and confirmed several times after reading their reasons I shouldn’t close my account, it redirected me to check my email to finish the process. Fine, it would be worth it. So after continuing the process through my email is asked my to check again after 48 hours to ensure the account was closed. Complete bullshit. Just like department stores that make you walk through the entire store to exit. I will close my MySpace account.

-Charles P. Pearson

The first difference to be noticed is in street salesmanship. Although the US has some corner-solicitors (Green Peace, UNICEF, etc.) it does not come close to the in-your-face angling that happens on every Turkish market street. Buyrun! Buyrun efendim! – Come in! Come in Sir!, they say. As I walk down the street I have merchants yelling at me to enter and listing what food or wares they have available that day. Its particularly funny when I am the only person walking by and they all start singing their salesman-siren songs in chorus to (at) me, only to here them slowly quiet down as leave the vicinity. It took my a while to get used to, and it doesn’t bother me much anymore. However, one thing that I will never become accustomed to is a merchant stepping in my walking path to try to get me in his store. It angers me more than it should, and I am determined not to change course and force the intrusive peddler to get our of my way – so far, no mid-sidewalk collisions. Why are they so aggressive? My ideas; First, its a bargaining culture where salesmanship is important. Second, money – people need it, so they need to sell. And third, their stands and stores are packed with countless items that overflow onto the sidewalk – they must take forever to set up every morning. The more they sell the less they have to haul back in at night. Perhaps, if I were in their place I’d be a fiendishly aggressive merchant as well.

The Jungle

If I submit, the next step in the transaction is the initial pricing and bargaining. There are sometimes no labeled prices and interacting with the vender at every stage of the buying-experience is a must (unlike the US system where you often will not see someone until you pay, and even then perhaps not). The prices, upon hearing my accent, are often too high. I do not usually pay this price. At this point we are at a stalemate, the ball is in the vendor’s court. More often than not they ask about me and offer me a seat and drink a tea. Getting to know your customer is a widely practiced salesman tradition here, even by a man (they are mostly men) selling soap or backgammon boards. At this time the interaction can go two ways; EITHER, they become increasingly bent on making a sale, perhaps excited by the prospect of making a 200% profit off an ignorant foreigner. Now that I am familiar with how much things should run, or at least where I can get them cheaper, I fall for this less than before. Mostly they resign themselves and start yelling to other potential customers, but often I perceive genuine anger that they cannot extort me and will never come down to even a reasonable price. But this is a fraction of the time.

OR, more commonly, there is a positive reaction to my bargaining prowess – and this part, I think, is truly indicative to Turkish cultural hospitality and one of the many reasons I love it here. We start to talk, mostly about me; where I am from, why I am in Turkey, whether or not I like Turkey, why I am learning Turkish, etcetera. They almost always compliment me on my Turkish and say how good it is. They then often tell me of a family member living abroad, usually in the US or Canada, but sometimes they’ll tell me about relatives living in the Czech Republic or Japan as if ‘abroad’ is one place and their nephew living in Germany has any significance for me. But, it’s well-intentioned conversation and I politely ask follow-up questions. I do enjoy these friendly vendors a lot. When we finally get back to talking shop the price will have reduced dramatically. Indeed, there is a direct correlation to how long I talk to the person and how low the price is. Sometimes, I am convinced they are selling to me at a loss.

After the deal is struck the friendly vendors will often throw in extra shit that I usually don’t want (stickers, extra onions, a lighter), but would be impolite to refuse. The other day I bought flowers for my girlfriend at a sidewalk cart, and after talking a while, after paying, when I was ready to leave he abruptly handed me a second bouquet and told me to have a nice day. I gave my girlfriend two bouquets of flowers that day.

So, compared to the well-organized but sterile department store culture of America, the Turkish consumer system, despite is Americanization (malls), remains frustrating, warm, flexible, and exciting.

-Charles P. Pearson

I had previously seen bits and pieces of the BBC’s Planet Earth Series, and knew of its quality. So when my mother was planning to send a Christmas package to Turkey (thanks, mom) I requested she put in the DVD set. Having received it a month ago, and having viewed almost every episode, I can definitively say that it is the Holy Grail of nature documentaries.

First, the production quality is very high – well done, BBC. The cinematography is truly exceptional. Macro and wide-angle shots abound to capture the smallest detail or most expansive and breath-taking landscape, respectively. Just the other day I was making fun of British shows aired in Turkey for their low-production quality, perhaps I owe them an apology.

The content is impressive. Unlike many wildlife documentaries, which only focus on overexposed animals such as lions, elephants, or great buffalo herds, the BBC also seeks to demonstrate the vast diversity of nature – the odd in addition to the stereotypical. In some episodes, especially the Ocean Deep, the subjects filmed give the documentary an almost freak-show-feel. The bioluminescent octopus, the mountain baboons of africa, the seductive dance of the bird-of-paradise, and the anus-slapping yak of mongolia: they are all jaw-droppers, or at least, giggle inducers.

The creme-de-la-creme of the Planet Earth Series is the smooth molasses voice of Sir David Attenborough. His aristocratic English narration adds an authority to the fascinating details he provides, while the natural quality of his vocal system would put babies to sleep.  I do have to say my girlfriend loves it a little too much when I try to impersonate Sir Attenborough’s accent, I will do my best to make sure they never meet.

To demonstrate how energy flows up the food chain Sir David Attenborough ate this frog.

This winter,as I sit in my room on rainy days (I melt in the rain), I will continue to be astonished by the diversity and abundance of our planet through the computer screen. And though I appreciate this documentary series, and even have thought that I would like to save it for the education my future children, it soberly reminds me that many of these species will likely not be around for them to see. Except, of course, on the out-dated copy of BBC Planet Earth that their father has.

-Charles P. Pearson

The primary benefit of sitting down with this book is to learn about the historical details of the conflict, to get past the simple generalizations that were often used by the western media to justify inaction. Primarily, Lloyd framed the war for what it was – a battle between nationalist forces, represented by the Serbian Bosnians, and the for forces of secularism, embodied by the Muslim Bosnians. However, this narrative was slowly corrupted. The Nationalist forces of the Serbs fought the United Croat-Muslim troops, loyal to the idea of a united multi-ethnic Bosnia, until nationalism spread from Croatia proper to turn the Croat Bosnians against their former allies, the Muslim Bosnians, in an effort to grab as much land as possible for the Croat people – blatant opportunism. The side that is easiest to identify with (for Lloyd and myself), the Muslim Bosnians, slowly and surely lose their moral high ground as their military luck turns for the better and are tempted into atrocities against those who had committed uncountable acts of horror against them. Lloyd’s affection ultimately remains with the Muslim Bosnians throughout the conflict.

The often heartbreaking, surprising, and gruesome first hand accounts of this book give it an authority that is hard to deny. Lloyd is obviously a personable fellow and capable journalist, as deduced by how many relationships he cultivates with personalities from every corner of the war – giving him access beyond what one would expect (to the point where he shares the fate with the soldiers around him). The accounts of these people, struggling through an atrocious conflict, often against their will, are the most heart-wrenching. The injustice and inhumanity are immense.

On a personal level, I identified with the book on the point of our need for violence; that for all of my socialization to the contrary, there is an impetus within young men which tends towards destruction. And that unless you’ve been a young man it may be hard to understand. But like all explanations, understanding a problem is the first step towards addressing it. Lloyd, on the other hand, had dealt with his predisposition by going to war (his socialization was more militaristic than my own), and by glossing inter-war periods back in London with an rather unhealthy heroin addiction.

Lloyd’s wavering position from morally detached to enraged are definitively human, and make him an honest spectator whose words should be valued. The events read as a heartbreaking account of the disappearing of ideals – the disintegration of not only Tito’s Yugoslavia, in which the aforementioned players lived amongst each other as a bastion of diversity against currents of nationalism, but also that the notions of justice, goodness, and humanity are not specific properties of religious nor ethnic groups.

-Charles P. Pearson

Anthony Lloyd. My War Gone By, I Miss It So. Penguin Books, London: 1999.