Western selfies smile on the emerging world

In response to a friend of his, my friend and former colleague, Philip Hall Steinhardt posted on his Facebook page "about how much she (his friend) liked India and how India was even more beautiful than she remembered..." He publicly questioned her cheery outlook of the Subcontinent by pointing out that "... you probably stayed in the best luxury hotels and went to the choicest tourist sites. When you were young you were like a little frog sitting on a rock." I'm not sure FB is the best place for such pointed criticism but I do understand Mr. Hall's skepticism. We both served several years in the Middle East (he's still there) and we often heard westerners yuck it up about how well things were in Saudi Arabia though they rarely ventured forth from their insular western style compounds. If they did, it was to travel to another American or British enclave, often secured behind high concrete walls lined with bob wire fencing . In fact, one could make the case that a substantial number of westerners visit the emerging world live and dine in the most posh accommodations, spending western lucre or simply swiping plastic throughout their "conferences" (often company or government financed).  Every entity has its term. Our Congressional class has their junkets and college professors use their "research" grants. Their reports are usually more glowing if they feel an expectation that their hosts will invite them back for another visit, especially if they are up for periodic renewal of a grant or contract. The more a westerner lives amongst the locals, as Phil & I did, the clearer the reality of life in the emerging world becomes. In fact, thousands, nay millions of Indians live and work in the Saudi Arabian Gulf region, making very modest salaries and enduring conditions that approximate the old indentured servant or sharecropper system in the US. But let a giddy western gal waltz through taking selfies with the local laborers and the workers will often stop, smile and wave adios.

All roads used to lead to 42nd street

All roads used to lead to 42^nd street. Now they lead to Anytown in Texas. And from there, it’s anyone’s guess where you’ll end up. From the time I made the move from my home in Manhattan many years ago, I’ve been stopping by, coming through, or escaping the Lone Star state, the latest escape inspired by a wintry blast that swept through huge parts of Texas, forcing school and other business closings. And here I wait, in a coffee shop that’s one of the more civilized places in the No Star state – Nuevo Leon, Mexico, a region close to the US border that was once a prominent battleground in the fight against what might be called US encroachment, American meddling or any flavor of Western imperialism. I’m waiting for the rain to ease, or maybe that’s the latest excuse for sitting in a café, tethered to American pop culture and politics, courtesy of Western engineered internet access. Or maybe it was the British who built the system. Hard to credit the Americans with anything good these days. The coffee’s good, I’m sure they’d admit. Or maybe everyone is here for the free internet access too. Free is good, even though I’ve learned – hang on for 1 of my hundreds of favored clichés – freedom isn’t free.