21.9.11
Famine in Somalia and Tyler Hicks article
The Faces of Famine
By Tyler Hicks
Famine is sweeping across southern Somalia and sending a stream of desperate people into Mogadishu. Tens of thousands of children are said to be dying there, and there's not enough help to meet the demand for food and medical care. The Shabab, the Islamic militant group with ties to Al-Qaeda, has made delivery of aid to remote areas, and even to the capital Mogadishu, not only difficult but also unreasonably slow, further reinforcing the crisis.
I was recently on assignment to photograph the crisis in Mogadishu. Just a few miles from where our plane landed I was taken to a refugee camp where hundreds of new arrivals, those who walked there with their belongings – and children – on their backs, waited for help and a place to settle. The sight of foreigners, and their hope that help had arrived, created a steady appeal for help. A bundle under a woman's arm revealed an emaciated child, then another in the same state carried by someone else. I motioned to my camera in an attempt to show I was with the news media and couldn't help them with what they needed: food, clean water, medicine, mosquito nets, shelter.
The worst cases were at the crowded hospital. That's where I found the hardest hit, mostly children, some unable to walk or even sit up, others vomiting and all suffering from dysentery. In the hallway every available surface was used for another sick child. I've seen bad conditions in hospitals, but this was one of the worst. Swarms of flies infested the mouths and eyes of children too weak to move. Their parents spent the day swatting the flies away from them and doing whatever else they could to keep them alive. I photographed a father carrying his lifeless daughter, wrapped in cloth, out of the hospital for burial.
Mogadishu is unsafe for foreigners, and journalists rely on local fixers and security to help do our job. Time on the street is very limited, and you're never left in one place for long before moving. This means you're forced to work quickly, even inside the hospital. I found this frustrating, but I reminded myself to trust our guides and allow them to make those decisions.
In early August, The New York Times ran a front-page photograph of a child who was reduced to the frail framework of a starved body. The image showed the child in a fetal position, arms wrapped around the head, almost in a protective gesture. I could see that this image, however disturbing to view, would give proof of how desperate the situation had become.
I enthusiastically support the image chosen for Page 1. The public reaction was overwhelmingly positive, and a reminder of the impact The Times can generate – not only among our readers, but also among other news media organizations and humanitarian aid groups. This is an example of the raw, unfiltered definition of news photography. It doesn't happen every day, and it might not come your way in the course of a year. But sometimes you land on a story, a cause, something that has meaning to you, and the resulting photographs have an impact. They are seen and spur reaction. In a digital age, that's when you're reminded of the impact that a still, motionless photograph can have.
20.9.11
Love my job and people here. Love the ranch and people there. Hate the weather here in the City and the unfriendliness.
So I ponder and wonder. No hurry to decide as fate and time assist also.
David
27.8.11
Caught up with John and Peni Gibbs in Kaneohe and it was so wonderful to see them. While I have many friends here in Californial, I realized this trip that I have many more friends in Hawai'i that I just don't see enough of - more then I do here.
At any rate it is late - interview at Tripler went so well, my hopes are up and time will tell. More on Hawaii later!
D
24.8.11
21.8.11
The one year anniversary of my mother's death is tomorrow. I plan on renting a longboard and paddling out to the middle of Hanalei Bay with a lei, say a few words in her memory. Something like this: Aloha Kakau, Bula Vinaka mom. I am here to remember your loving spirit and pay homage to the sacrifices and struggles that you endured in your life. To remember the sense of enthusiasm and fun you carried with you almost everywhere you went. I remember the night we spent on the fresh lava beds of Kiluea Volcano on the Big Island of Hawai'i, how late it was and how tired we all were . . . yet you shouldered the burden so well and carried on without complaining. We both knew we had been present at creation and I know how moved you were and excited you were.
Mom - I know we had our differences, disagreements and harsh words. Yet we forgave each other and in the end all was forgiven as you lay dying so well. I felt so sad and I am now moving on, letting that sadness go free and moving on with my life in so many positive ways. I do want to say I am sorry if I failed you in the end with the pain and suffering that you endured - we did our best mom but remain haunted by the possibility that I could have done better or improved in my care of you somehow. I think of that often and it is my greatest wish that you did not suffer. This may be a reflection of my career as an ER nurse and my own deeply personal convictions - but in the same breath I know that to live is to suffer and that it goes hand in hand with joy and life. I apologize if I failed you in any way or if I hurt you.
May the spirit and love that led you to love Hawaii and Fiji and their people bless and honor you my mother. I thank you for giving me life, teaching me how to be a good person and contribute to the world and its people. I thank you also for teaching me how Not to be at times by the virtue of your own attempts and failings at living a good life. May your spirit find comfort and peace, may you exalt in the end of your suffering and in your accomplishments in your brief sojourn on this planet. We will always love you and our father. I will always try to live a good life, to contribute, to do good, to lessen suffering, to teach and learn, to consume less and want less. You and father taught me these things - I do not know how but it is who I am and I know that you were proud of me and worked hard to let me know that. My heart enfolds your spirit my mother, may you be happy and satisfied where ever your spirit is, may you find peace and reward. I miss your presence and I send you my heartfelt love. David
14.8.11
So I settle in for my flight with my New York Times, coffee, iPhone, laptop, all the modern accoutrements!
Aloha
11.8.11
bamboo whispers,
granite glistens.
Rain drops.
Earth recieves.
intimations of morality echoing,
surround me.
raindrops drench
upturned face . . . eyes . . . lips
full of grace
grey clouds beckon,
hearts home,
while spirit roams.
fuschia dawn opens
jade mountain
azure sea.
I wrote this in 2000 while in San Francisco after being wrenched out of the islands by my fathers death.
10.8.11
I just bought some leis from Cindi's Lei's in Honolulu and they are shipping them over for a Friday arrival. Great Service and wonderful people. I highly recommend them to anyone.
I have read a lot of books this last week. The Help is a great book and I hear is being released in the movie theaters tonight. I am now reading The Magician King by Lev Grossman and I read the first book of this series or trilogy - whatever it may be. Freakonomics by Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner is next. All this in combination with my daily New York Times, The Atlantic Monthly, Harpers and Cooks Illustrated. Just a few of my favorite things that I love to read.
I'll post fotos as I move through Hawai'i. On Oahu it will be a wonderful reunion. I will be interviewing (I hope) at Tripler and other local hospitals. Enough for now, long day at work but much is accomplished.
Aloha,
Kawika
16.7.11
We miss our mom but know she would be proud of us and the job we have done. Still, I'd rather have her alive. We are taking off now so I'll close. I am glad my brother and I are together - it's been so fun and easier together.
Aloha.
16.6.11
Making an Imu or Lovo (Underground Oven)
So I am excited to be able to share this tradition with anyone but even more with family. Many of them I do not know well but for America this is often the case. Pictures and music will accompany the Imu I hope and will post them here.
David
31.5.11
Changes are Afoot
I have applied again to the Peace Corps but with my fiance. Hard to believe but there the facts are. It is taking me some work to get used to all this.
I have also inquired about transferring to the Tripler Army Medical Center Emergency Room as a VA nurse. We go to Kauai in August 2011 and after that will be on Oahu to see friends and interview.
Who knows what will come of all this but possibilities abound.
Debt is disappearing with much work and help. Once we sell my mother's house and close here estate we will be free to leave. Free at last, no debt, no ties, no worries about much that was an issue in the past.
Enough, sleep beckons.
27.4.11
25.4.11
You'll be in my conscious thinking dreams
as I lay awake and pondering what it could mean to love you.
It is no idle threat of mine,
this possible love carried to you
in a bucket brimming with possibilities
spilling over with ideas of what it could mean to love you
You will be wondering now who the hell is this man?
who does he think he knows
about what it could mean to love me?
It lies in a realm of choices made and unmade,
each decision a rent and tear in quantum fabric of bubbling space,
ricocheting down the corridors of time and doors
each opening to a differing idea of what it might mean to love you.
What I really want
is for you to think about . . .
what it may mean for you to love me.
I know I could love you - selfish man that I am.
So open that door into your heart and open that heart to me.
Change the nature of our reality
where love just is
as it is wont to be.
8.4.11
Updates
That has always been a goal that I have been able to fulfill - to not commute and risk my life on the freeway on a daily basis. It is a great thing to not pollute so much and live with a sense of place and neighborhood. This said, it still is not my favorite place but it will do as these things go. I have my coffee shop, 'my' local movie theater and best of all my brother and family lives in the city. This has been a gift.
So I turned a half century last year. My mother died and I became an orphan. That is strange, bringing new meaning, an additional layer of complexity to a multilayered life of the same. My search for meaning continues, realizing that the search will never end and the lingering sense of disatisfaction is what drives me and enriches existence. All selfish things but there you are.
I won't be an RN at the VA forever. Nor in the ER. There is so much to do, places to be and people to be with. Still a journey, unending, cautious, free, unknowable and precious beyond knowing and believing at times.
I am blessed and lucky. I know how fast it can and will change.
David
10.3.11
Paying off Debt
All quotidian details of my life but meaningful to me and an indication that I am somewhat more financially responsible then the past. My debts pale in comparison to others but for me it is a stone cold yoke of lead around my neck. That is it for now, too late and tired for more but wanting to write more . . . as always.
8.3.11
17.2.11
15.2.11
I'm reading Steve Martin's book, Object of Beauty. His writing touches my heart, resonates. Echoes blithely around in my chest saying this is you, it could be or it was or you want this or what? Like some heretofore hidden desire suddenly lies exposed to you like a vein of gold or a rock in the sea your sailboat is headed straight for. Danger filled with love, fear co-mingled with delight and passion and in an instant this is a certainty…that you know, at last, that life is revealed to you, that this is what it is about and now finally at last, yes this is really really it.
Search for this, revel in it, don't let go.
Thanks for reading.
26.1.11
Taking Apart our Mother's Life
Our mum died August 21, 2010 - just a bit more than five months ago now. This is our first time back to her house since her death. We are beginning to take apart her life, cleaning out her memories, incorporating them into our own memories and re-remembering things we may have forgotten.
It is like taking this big chunk of data apart and the little bits of flotsam and jetsam that make up our lives drifts back into the data sphere. Some things to the dump and then to the landfill, some to Goodwill - the re-purposing of data, the bytes that make up our lives. We spend our whole life collecting this data, identifying with and making it 'us'. As our lives end, if we are lucky we get to shed this data stuff ourselves, to choose what we relieve ourselves of till death takes us. Then, entropy. Data dissolution speeds up and soon all that is left is memories held in others minds and the solid bytes of data are scattered to the winds.
For my mother one of the most tangible things are her paintings and stories. The stories are less solid in some way. It was difficult to throw away twenty copies of some of her stories into the recycle bin at the dump. We simply cannot keep that much data, that much physical manifestation of my mothers soul, of her life. We have her computer and I hope that much of it is on her hard drive. I rescued copies of her smaller stories but will I read them again? Will anyone? Does it matter?
But the paintings . . . they remain. Some will perish but others . . . and I hope the good ones will populate the landscape of the world for some time. I hope that I will run into some of them at some distant point in the future and remember my mother. We have the ones we want, a few of them good and many of them not very good at all. But they are her and we are all not so good at some things in our lives.
The sheer volume of 'stuff' is really amazing. We dig and dig and dig again. Layers of data of a life of 78 years and we still mourn and miss our mother.
7.1.11
Legion of Honor
5.12.10
28.11.10
11.11.10
United States Veterans Day
Aloha . . . thanks for thinking of the vets today. I worked the ER today at the San Francisco Veterans Administration Hospital Emergency Room, so of course they were on my mind too.
I liked Born on the Fourth of July but my only caveat is that it does a great disservice to the VA as it exist NOW. Since the time that the book/film came into existence so much at the VA has changed and is now known for the level and quality of its care. I saw this quality when I was hired and as I learn more I am only regretful that I cannot obtain my care at the VA. The rank and file of the Republicans/Tea Party mad hatters rail against Socialized Medicine but this is exactly what the VA is and does so very well. Even the neocons and the rest of the anti-intellectual movement in this country will usually praise the VA (perhaps because to Not do so would be considered unpatriotic in their minds).
This is not to say the VA is the best or perfect. But I will say we are good, we are dedicated and we care. There is not pushing people out the door due to insurance, we have had electronic charting for almost 20 years and most of all, the vets want to be here and are very satisfied (for the most part!) with their care here.
We have asked these brave women and men to do terrible things for their 'country' , their corporatocracy (I cannot help but inject my own opinion into this of course) and I believe that we owe them the care promised them by a 'grateful nation'. If I discuss this with old line warriors they are among the most vocal and vociferously antiwar folks you will ever meet. If only the ones that send those into war were the first on the ground with their families . . . then war would be shorter but it will never cease.
We will always need those who are willing to step into the breach and I will always thank them for their duty. But that duty, however well executed, does not excuse anyone from my our duty to speak up and condemn the war machine, the military-industrial complex, death and the dark desires that drive men to kill, rape and destroy.
I treat veterans of World War II that at this moment, sixty five years later are having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) rear its ugly symptoms for the first time or reoccur after so many intervening years. My job is secure - as long as Presidents, Prime Ministers and leaders are mongering for war - my job is secure. We all pay for sins of our leaders in one way or another.
I'm not sure why I have said so much but perhaps it is my way of working out my own demons from what I have done, seen and heard from the people I serve. I'll take any chance at all to extol their service and sacrifice while I object to violence and war itself. I do not believe these things are mutually exclusive.
Thank you for reading this and for your activism and service. It is appreciated.
Aloha,
David
I am reading a very good book now called:
Best Care Anywhere - Why VA Health Care is Better Then Yours
by Phillip Longman
6.10.10
Although I love you.
The dawn breaks in spite of my love for you
Yes, I want it to stop
For my love to rule all
And you to know
That in spite of my love
The moon will rise
Oceans arms encircle Jupiter
Love will not conquer all
And the love borne for you
Means nothing without being borne out by action.
Yes, I'll stroll the beach
To whisper platitudes in your ear
Nibbling at the edges of your hearts
Round stones polished by wave and tide
Hardening my heart
Breaking my love.
David McCullough
October 6, 2010
4.10.10
26.9.10
I have had intimations of my own mortality.
Not willfully but thrust upon me by life's cadence.
It's endless march of life and death
The slow wheeling of the seasons.
A crisp river frozen In moonlight,
Birds nest hanging
Bird in flight
Your face leaned over me in ecstatic repose
Drinking in life without delay.
I suppose we do all possible
To escape that day,
To live again without thought or care
In time but not of it
Imagining and struggling to loosen it's meaningful bonds that tie us to each other
To the earth where we will rest
To once more become part of that
Whence we came.
I have intimations of my mortality
And struggle for acceptance
Yet to stave off death may not be so sweet
As the moments and years and decades that make a life.
It is that time between death and birth
That drives us in our search for meaning
For love
Fulfillment
Commitment to a cause greater than ourself
To a life filled with meaning and
A death that has been filled with love
A life that has been well lived
Echoes of our own mortality
Intimations of my own mortality
Resound upon the water
The meadow
My heart held by your love
Eyes locked to yours
Hand to hand
Heart to heart
Beating
Holding
Loving.
David McCullough
September 17, 2010

