I’m just about to finish reading Aminatta Forna’s book, The Devil that Danced on the Water. The book traced the author’s memories and search for truth about her father, who was killed in a shame trial in their homeland of Sierra Leone.

For three years, from age six to nine, while her father is in jail, her family is forced to stay in England. During that time she aches to go back to her home, feeling out of place, lost, in a foreign country. They aren’t prisoners, though, and do travel around Europe, and to America, but it’s an illusory freedom,

“There is good reason exile was once used as punishment it is a life apart, life on hold, life in waiting. You may begin full of strength and hope, or just ignorance, but it is time, nothing more than the unending passage of time that wears down your resilience like the drip of a tap that carves a groove in to the granite below. Exile is a war of attrition on the soul, it’s a slow punishment, and it works.”

As someone who often travels – some would say, self-imposed exile, grasping the meaning of exile is tough. To us, exile seems like a weak punishment, preferable to jail, or torture. The world is a such a large place, if I’m forced to be outside my home country, I feel it’ll be easy to find another place to call home.

Through her poignant, descriptive writing, though, I felt her longing, her aching, of being away from her place. Humans are a species that craves comfort, despite our new-found modern desires in today’s globalized world. Her father, when he returns from jail, ignores the advice of his friends and confidants to leave Sierra Leone. The few times that he goes abroad, he is always drawn back home? Why?

Even though I am a creature of globalization, someone who has trouble answering the questions “where are you from,” in Forna’s tale I saw a struggle I’ve often dealt with myself. Its no secret that I don’t like NYC, and I often tell people that I prefer San Francisco. But I also tell people that I don’t want to live in San Francisco in the future either. Why? I think that there are two ways to see where you want to be. One is to look, and search, for your ideal city, where you feel the most welcome, where people are interested in similar things to you. San Francisco is far more “my” city than New York. For most of my traveling life, I used to

Forna’s father was a moral man, who cared deeply about his country. He had, by chance, gotten the opportunity to study abroad, to gain an education that none of his siblings could. He took that education, that opportunity, and returned home to try and turn his country, newly independent and full of hope, into a better place. His soul was firmly in Sierra Leone. Exile, was, to him, the greatest punishment possible. It would be cutting off himself from his soul, from the country he loved and tried to help, first as a doctor, then as a politician, and lastly, as a businessman.

To me, though, what is exile? It would be being forced to live outside of my dreams, my passion. There is something incredibly powerful about a man, or woman, who is willing to sacrifice their life, as, sadly, Forna’s father ends up doing, because of their values. That is why I travel. To discover, and build, my own sense of purpose, one that will drive me to my goals. Despite my love of travel, in the end, I want to be someplace where I can make the greatest difference, where I can feel like a full human being. To take that away from me, my family, my home, my sense of place, would be the worst possible punishment. It may seem like a fine line.

I’ve yet to find my purpose, but I know I will.

Construction beckons Indonesia’s modern capital, Jakarta’s, entry as a 21st century economy – the drive from the airport into the central city is dominated by high-rise shopping and office complexes. Indonesia wants to be the second I in “BRIIC,” and is using its natural riches to become one of Asia’s newest engines of growth. It is those very natural resources that are driving economic growth both within Indonesia and in Asia; Indonesian coal powers many of China’s new power plants, and its minerals make possible Asia’s expanding tech sector. Mining alone still accounts for almost 13% of GDP, and many economists believe that a rise in commodity prices is most responsible for Indonesia’s recent growth. With shopping malls and strong consumer spending, Indonesia looks, on the surface, ready to take its place at the global economic table.

It makes sense – strong consumer spending is a sign of a developed economy. In the United States, in one of former President George W. Bush’s first statements after 9/11, he told Americans to “keep shopping,” in order to avoid a potential post-attack recession. Consumer spending forms the vast majority of the US economy. In Indonesia, it now accounts for nearly half, and a far higher portion within cities. The western model of consumer driven economic growth has been exported to Asia, and along with it, the idea that economic growth trumps other determinants of social well-being. This is not just an Indonesian phenomenon. There are now nine shopping malls in East and Southeast Asia larger than the Mall of America in Minnesota, with malls in China and the Philippines leading the way.

Though malls are being built in Indonesia, other infrastructure is not. The World Bank’s logistic performance index ranked Indonesia 75th globally – below Honduras, the Dominican Republic, and Benin, all countries with higher per-capita GDP. Jakarta still lacks an effective public transit system, its port is overcrowded and inefficient, and things become worse in outlying islands. The commodity driven boom is driving consumerism, but not infrastructure, education, or health, and this has potentially devastating long-term consequences for the sustainability of Indonesia’s economy.

Raw materials were the driving force behind Dutch colonial exploitation – then, the products in demand were rubber, coffee, indigo, pepper, sugar, and tea, grown on the fertile soil of Java. These riches went to very few, and the country as a whole became poor. After independence in 1945, many thought that the country would quickly grow, and that its resources would provide a strong base for future prosperity.

Some growth did occur, but with it came civil war, population growth, cronyism, and a repressive dictatorship. Educated Indonesians lament that “we were once a colony of the Dutch – now we are a colony of America and Japan.” The Dutch profiteering has been replaced by that of foreign corporations like Freeport McMoran, Chevron, or Japanese Timber conglomerates. Some Indonesians are gaining, but Jakarta’s shopping malls, far away from the open-pit mines of Papua or the deforestation of Kalimantan, are a sign of failed priorities. A resource-driven boom should be, in theory, the most equitable, because a country’s natural wealth is supposed to be for all of its citizens.  Yet the majority of Indonesians, especially outside of Jakarta, remain only marginally better off today than before the resource boom. Indonesia ranks 105th in the United Nations Human Development Index, again far behind several countries with similar per-capita GDP.

There is little green space in Jakarta; instead, air-conditioned taxis whisk people through traffic to the new social spaces in modern Indonesia; giant shopping mall. It is western consumerism taken to its logical conclusion – shopping as the symbol of growth. But Indonesia still has a long way to go to fulfill the promise of its natural wealth to all of its citizens. If consumerism is the sole determinant of economic growth, then Indonesia is more than ready to be a global economic power, but sustainable, long-term equitable growth may be just as much of a dream today as it was after independence. The future of all of East Asia may be foreshadowed in Jakarta – only time will tell what will happen once resources begin to be depleted or global prices fall.

–

Today, I usually distinguish between two very different terms – ignorance, and racism. They often come in the same disguise, and both create confusion and anger. But there is one major difference – ignorance can be overcome, while racism often cannot.

Growing in suburban Kansas City, at a high school that was 90% white (but, 25% Jewish), there were occasional racist acts – a anti-Jewish slur written on the bathroom, but more of what I encountered was ignorance. People who had never met an Indian-American before, who had gotten their little information from unreliable resources or media stereotypes. Most of the time these were innocent remarks – beliefs that Indians worship cows, never eat beef, that our religion is pagan. Or people assuming that all brown-skinned south Asians are the same, and not realizing how diverse the region is.

As a child it would be questions like “did you spend too much time in the sun?” Those incidents did leave me with a feeling that I was different, though, and as a child, that can be tough on its own. I remember thinking if I washed my skin enough, it would become lighter.

Of course, my perspective was different – I was considered a “model minority” – the term given to most Asian Americans who have to deal with far less negative stereotypes and perceptions than Latinos, African Americans, or Native American minorities. This alone puts undue pressure on us – the second generation, born here, assimilated yet held to higher expectations. We are supposed to be at the top of our class, supposed to be good at math, science, supposed to become doctors, engineers, professors, businessmen.

Moving to California brought me to another world – where these expectations were overbearing. I had to overcome new stereotypes – people assuming I could help them with computers, people assuming that I spoke Hindi, which actually pushed me away from other Indians, who often had the most strong expectations.

All of us as to work together to overcome ignorance – because if left untouched, ignorance can easily turn into lifelong racism – a far tougher battle to task.

Like most cafe or hostel book exchanges, the selection was mostly not to my liking. It was full of New York Times fiction bestselllers, Janot Enanovich, Stephen King, brain candy. That was not what I was looking for. I wanted something that would touch my soul, give me perspective about my life, and about the human experience. It was a hard week, and I was in this cafe studying, and I wanted something to remind me why I am here, getting my Masters.

The first shelf had nothing – though a Hebrew book caught my attention just for the script – so I went to back of the cafe, near the bathroom, to the second shelf. It was the very bottom left, the very last book I saw, that caught my eye.

“The Color of Water,” a Black Man’s Tribute to his White Mother.

I grabbed it, and began reading. Immediately I was captivated by this story that took place in the city that I was living, sometimes only block away in Harlem, about a Jewish mother, estranged from her family and religion, who raised 12 half-black children on her own, who were caught in-between two worlds.

Why do memoirs capture my heart so thoroughly? Why do I crave stories about pain and suffering, why do I crave so much to understand the human experience? In my perch at Columbia University, I often feel like there is something I am missing. I know this isn’t reality, this pristine campus, this access to knowledge – but what is reality? That was my reason for coming to Columbia, my reason for traveling around the world four years ago. It is the quest of my life.

When I am in a cafe, I sit and wonder – who are these people in here with me? What stories do they have, what experiences have they gone through? The written word, I believe, is a powerful way to see someone’s soul. To read, you must be able to listen, to listen, you must have patience, and you must be open. You must let part of yourself out, to feel and understand.

I find myself becoming more emotional when I read. This book, the Color of Water, has touched me often. When I get into a memoir, I find myself often unable to read another page, so overcome with emotions that I need to put the book down, and gaze into the distance. Let the feelings sink in, let my own mind wander.

The most valuable asset we have as humans are our experiences, our stories, our connections to the basic qualities that make us who we are. So I’ll keep on reading – probably for the rest of my life, in my never-ending quest to understand the world. I’ve found that each experience is different, and that my emotions never become dulled no matter how many memoirs I read. Instead, this is the only thing that makes me feel human sometimes, in today’s modern, money driven world.

I walked into Best Buy to look for a pair of headphones, and I saw a father shouting at his son “Fuck you! You never leave like that again! FUCK YOU!” It was a little jarring – not quite pepper spray, but my own taste of shopping rage. Is that what the holiday season is about? The streets were packed – stress was everywhere, women dressed in fashionable clothes holding 8-10 bags. Why? Who needs all this stuff. I was merely heading from the library – which was mostly empty – to a non-chain cafe – also relatively empty.

It’s now been several years since I bought anyone a Christmas gift – and receiving them has been none more often. It was so remarkably easy to cut myself off from the chaos that I saw today that, now, I almost forget that it still exists. Caring and thoughtfulness in my mind outweighs gifts anyday. I tell friends, if you really want to give me something, make me dinner! (or take me to a good restaurant) Then, we can spend time together.

My parents never expect any gifts from me, and nowadays, I don’t from them. I know that they really only want one thing from me anyway – to spend time with them. No gift can replace that.

How did Christmas and Consumerism become so intertwined – and how did Consumerism win? And why are we letting this dread spread throughout the world? As someone who cares about poverty and social issues…its amazing to think how, if we just took a day off from shopping and instead used that money to help society, how many problems we could solve. Compare the advertising budgets of retailers with the entire budgets of most non-profits and you’ll see a society that has its priorities completely wrong.

But if it were that easy to break an addiction…

PS – if you want to break that cycle and give a meaningful gift, how about about a Kiva gift card?

Is that feasible way to live life?

“Why does the world allow such this?” I thought. Its easy to just think that Dachua is in the past, but the sad truth is that the present has just as terrible atrocities. Darfur, Congo, Sri Lanka, Burma, Tibet - everywhere, human beings are committing atrocities in the same way they were in Nazi Germany. Some say its part of human nature – I vehemently disagree. I believe its a curse of society. But that begs the question then – are we all capable of committing crimes against our fellow human beings in the right situation?

I told my best friend, William, my fears. We all like to think that we are better than those who committed these atrocities, but in reality, how can we know? It’s easy to blame society – how can one fix it?

“Is our society broken? How can we make change?” I asked him.

“We can force change,” he told me, “change has to come from within. We have to be patient.”

He told me a quote – one that has really helped change my life. It is from Jiddu Krishnamurthy. “To be well adapted to a sick society is not a mark of good health.”

–

I used to believe that power was the way to change the world. That you had to make it to the top to make a difference. Yet within that was an obvious fallacy, one that, today, has led me away from politics as a career. That to get to the top, to those positions of power, you often have to sacrifice many of your values.

The sad thing is, that it is, in the end, nearly impossible to get to the top, because the top is defined by your present situation. It is un-achievable. Moreover, by sacrificing your values now, you are making it harder to enact change when you can. It’s a vicious cycle, a symptom of a society in which consumerism, environmental destruction, human rights violations, are all accepted as part of daily life.

That is a sick society.

Change can only come from within us. Change has to be in every action we take. If society is sick, then we much work to make it healthy. The power is within us in each and every action that we take.

You can push people – as I often did, trying to force change, or you can do what I’m trying to learn how to do – plant a seed and let it sprout. Lead by example, not by force, and help when you can, but also be patient. Its something that is far easier said than done.

I wasn’t an easy friend – I know. I used to push people towards what I saw as their potential, sometimes with anger, always with the feeling that, inside, it was well-intentioned. There was nothing I hated seeing more than lost potential.

There was also a selfish side. I wanted to believe that anyone who met me, and especially, anyone who was friends with me, would be a better person for it. If I couldn’t even inspire my friends to be better people and realize their potential, how could I change the world?

–

It’s been a retrospective few weeks. A friend from high school, passed away recently. Though we were never good friends, I still felt sad. My memories with him were mostly positive. Is there anything I could have done to save him, years ago, when I still had a chance?

I want, today, to be a better friend. To focus on what I can control, and to be there for those when they need me. I want to plant seeds – small ideas, hopes, potential – and then let those I meet do what they can to realize their potential. I can’t change the past – and some of those friend whom I pushed too hard, friendships I destroyed, will never be repaired. But I can change myself now, and be a better friend to those around me today.

Instead of lamenting about the past, I will focus on the future. Changing the world.

–

It was during junior year of College that I first heard about Facebook, a new, campus-only social network. After some resistance, I joined, intrigued. It had some great functions – allowing you to enter and see who else was in your classes, to create groups for student organizations, and more. The “wall” was more like an actual wall, where you could draw pictures and erase other people posts. And poking was still fun!

Yet, at the very beginning, Facebook was built on a false premise – the idea that a profit-driven, privately managed social network could provide societal benefits. If that was the case, Facebook would have built on its base – providing better tools for campus collaboration, enabling more user control, and respecting the privacy of its users. As we all know, it did not.

It’s one of the most basic problems with our society – the amount of trust we give to corporations in regards to private information, when their main goal is profits and market share, not people. It is why Yahoo aided the Chinese Government in prosecuting a journalist – to maintain market access. Its why Verizon, ATT, and T-Mobile all helped the Bush administration illegally wiretap suspects. It’s why Facebook’s new features are most related to how they can use their most valuable asset – your information – and turn it into advertising revenue.

Why do we put so much trust in corporations and their leaders, who have no interest in our well being?

We need a Democratic, Open Source Social Network that doesn’t inhibit, but drives social action and uses the power of the internet to strengthen communities. The power of this new social network should not be in its CEO, but in its users, who should have complete control. There are models for this – Linux operating systems, for example, or the LibreOffice software suite, the free, open-source alternative to Microsoft Word. Diaspora is the best model out there -but even it has a long way to grow.

Facebook is not the potential of social networking, just as Apple is not the potential of mobile technology. We are the potential. When technology is in the hands of the people, then it will reach its summit. Until then, we will only line the pocketbooks of Facebook, Google, and Apple. They will reap, while none of us benefit.

And until then, I’m happy outside of the walled garden of Mark Zuckerberg’s personal fiefdom. Why don’t you join me?

#quitfacebook