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ourplaceinthecosmosphff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1. The Case Against Fairytales

'his eyes across a room tangled up in her imagination they had spent a lifetime together by the time he said hello' atticus

My brother died the same way he came into the world: silent, eyes closed, changing my life as I knew it.

We spent our whole lives trying to convince anyone we could that we were as regular as they were, but here's the first fundamentally different thing when you are royal: the meaning of the word ‘everyone’.

In our case, we usually mean anyone in the country, most of the international media, and at least a sizeable majority of the world's population. It's not that everyone knew us... it's just that enough people did. Enough for it to be easier to call them 'everyone'.

When my brother Louis was born, mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of a Sunday afternoon. The press was notified, they promptly set up camp at the hospital entrance, and the people started prayer campaigns to the safe arrival of their new prince and heir. Everyone rejoiced at his arrival. I remember, I was there.

At three years-old, it felt like everyone was every single person in the planet. It was mostly just the people in our country; to everyone else, his birth was a quick, short line of announcement, maybe some notice to the fact that the newborn baby boy was taking his older sister's place as heir, and not much else.

When he died, everyone was every single person in the planet. The second thing fundamentally different when you are a royal: from a very early age you must learn that tragedy sells more than joy. And in any constitutional monarchy country, a royal family is merely another commodity.

A few people talked about my early graduation from University. A lot more people talked about my boyfriend breaking up with me. There were a few articles about my little sister's victory at the ice-skating junior final. When she fell on her face in front of the cameras while attempting a risky move, she went viral. When my brother came into our lives, a few people took notice.

When he left us, everyone did.

---- ---- ---- ----

I, too, am a victim of culture appropriation. Since the dawn of time, from the moment humankind developed communication skills, there has been storytelling. And for the past few thousands of years most stories that parents tell their young as they tuck them into their blankets every night, have been about my culture. As far as that goes, it is not the most damaging kind of culture appropriation. But I have a duty today, and I will not shy away from it. I am sorry to say I must, and will, shatter the beautiful image of fairytales that kids have been fed for so many years now.

I know what you are thinking – oh, boo-hoo, the poor little princess girl; is life too difficult in your beautiful palace with all the money a person could ever need? And yes, I know. I am not a victim. The same colonialism that placed my ancestors, and therefore, me, in the position of privilege and power I am in today has created many more actual victims around the world. But that is also why I must tell this story the way it was always meant to be told: truthfully. With all the weird, awkward, awful, bits and pieces that fairytales tend to skip.

Fairytales would, for instance, skip straight to the grand, majestic welcome ceremony between the Queen of the United Kingdom and the King of Savoy in a sun floored courtyard with guards on tall, furry black hats strutting around, standing in a red-carpeted dais, with a handsome prince making eyes at me. But in my story, we will start with the train.

That’s right, in modern fairytales you don’t take a lovely carriage ride to a neighboring kingdom. You take a train there – a commercial train, if you can, because modern times beg for demonstrating to the masses that the Monarch isn’t throwing money around. We were trying to highlight the easy routes of access to our neighbors to the northeast, and so we took the ferry across the Celtic Sea to Hugh Town Island and from there, Eurostar number 2 train that made a quick stop in Penzance, UK, and then went straight to London.

The train ride isn’t comfortable – even if you have a first class private car. It’s bumpy and crowded and a terrible place to spend three straight hours. On that particular morning, I was in our car with my father, his household secretary Auguste, my private aide, Cadie, and a few other staff members.

In fairytale world, when a princess does not look the part, there is usually the appearance of a fairy godmother who sings a nice song and magically transforms her into a Proper Princess™. There is no fairy godmothers when you are a real princess- real ones, sure, but they are not magical-, but you do learn from an early age what a Proper Princess™ should look like, act like, and sound like, and god forbid you don't.

In the train that day, I heard all that was keeping me from being Proper™ from Auguste, who was in many ways the exact opposite of a fairy godmother. He had all the menacing authority of one, with none of the charm. He also didn’t have wings or a sparkly wand; he had greying short hair, and thin, small, reading glasses that he always pushed down to the tip of his nose to look above, which made me wonder what was the point of the glasses at all.

Before our arrival, I had to change my lipstick, which was too dark, my dress, which was too short at the daring height of above my knees, my shoes, which were open toed and therefore wrong, and finally, make sure to brush my hair once more.

My parents never subscribed to the idea that we were forbidden to do anything. They were raised on stern rules and heavily traditional costumes and wanted their kids to live more freely. So, growing up, they revolutionarily told us that we were free to be whoever we wanted to be – in private. In public, we had an obligation to be Proper™. After all, as I heard repeatedly growing up: royals don’t make mistakes, we make history; and history remembers.

So, yes. I, a grown, 25 years-old, law-school graduate, bar-approved acquisitions lawyer, changed out of my dress into a more proper one because my dad asked. Because as a princess, you’re never just yourself; you’re the country. And if your country comes from a Roman Catholic tradition, your hemlines must reflect that, no matter what century it is.

The country in question was just to the south of the United Kingdom, west of France, a large island named Savoie. The English call it Savoy, which is how it was pronounced anyway. It was originally populated by the Irish, but over the years it was conquered by the English, the Spanish, and the Portuguese until finally, in the 13th Century, it was conquered by France. It was bigger than Ireland, but smaller than England, and one of the biggest GDPs in the world, with a population of 49 million. Under the reign of Louis XV, however, France lost most of its possessions after its defeat in the Seven Years' War, and to secure Savoy, the king sent part of the court to live there and to reign in his stead as his emissaries. Louis XV's reign grew weak, including his ill-advised financial, political and military decisions, which discredited the monarchy and arguably led to the French Revolution 15 years after his death. France dealt with its dissatisfaction by revolting, Savoy however, secluded away at sea, decided to declare independence before the Revolution had even taken steam. The political leaders of the Island reached an agreement with the king's emissary, Prince Louis, the highest ranking monarch on the island; in exchange for support for the severance of all connection to France, he was then made King Louis I of Savoy. The Royal House of Savoy grew steady and strong by protecting its people and assuring them a freer, better life than the one they'd known under French reign.

A few years later, I sat on that train in front of the current King of Savoy. My father.

“You look beautiful, Maggie.”

“Thank you.”

“The other dress was beautiful as well. Just not for today.”

“Mm-hm.”

A moment of silence went by. I picked up my phone and checked my emails. There was one from Sophie with the subject ‘urgent!’ so I clicked in it feeling my heart race.

It read,

‘Marie, I’m sorry to bother you on your days off, but the depositions got moved up to Monday and we can’t find the notes on the manager deposition, you were the one who did them. Is there any chance you have a copy and if so can you send them to me? Enjoy England! XO Soph’

Sighing, I put down my phone and quickly found my laptop on my suitcase. I turned it on as I replied to Sophie’s email to tell her to expect my deposition notes shortly.

“You know if we could I’d let you wear whatever you wanted.” Dad added as I logged into my computer.

“I do.”

I moved quickly through my folders realizing the most recent update on my notes hadn’t been uploaded to the cloud. Sighing, I logged on to the train WiFi and checked the storage service online. It didn’t connect.

“Honestly, darling, you look even prettier with this dress.”

I looked up, mentally wondering if the previous versions of the notes would be useful.

“This isn’t about the dress.”

I realized, then, that it wouldn’t matter anyway because I wouldn’t be able to send them to Sophie without internet. I looked out the window, realizing perhaps too late that we were in the tunnel, underwater. Of course there wasn’t internet.

“Well, what is it about?” Dad asked, putting his book marker back inside the page he was on and laying down the book to give me his full attention.

“Work, papa. I have a job.”

“Yes, and it’s your day off. Maybe you should try and turn off from work for the next few days?”

I smiled down to my computer, “maybe this is a conversation for another time.”

Dad adjusted his posture, looking a little taller, and looked around the room to Cadie and Auguste sitting in a booth nearby with our private hair and make-up artist, and dad’s footman, and personal aide.

“Excuse me, everyone, would you be so kind as to give us the room? Or, uh, the car? There is a little lounge outside, isn’t there?”

“Of course, sir.” Auguste said, jumping up immediately with the aide, and Cadie and Cass, the make-up artist, followed.

After they had left and closed the door behind them, I looked at my father. He lurched back in his seat and smiled at me.

“Go on,” he said. “If you don’t scream I don’t think they’ll hear us.”

“Why would I scream?”

“I don’t know, Maggie. But I don’t know why you would be so passive aggressive, either. Can you tell me?”

“What do you want, dad?”

In truth, I added the ‘dad’ at the end of the sentence to make it sound less aggressive, but as he stared at me, I felt uncomfortable not explaining myself.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”, I asked, tiredly. “I’m here, wearing a proper, long, not-slutty dress-“

“No one here used that word-“

“My toes will be perfectly hidden away when we arrive, I have hidden my ugly, evil legs under some stockings-“

“Really, Maggie, no one said your legs were-“

“My make-up is light and my hair is simple and non-threatening. I know not to smile too much or too little and to let the adults lead the conversation”, I said, the word ‘adults’ dangling bitterly from me lips. “And not to walk ahead of you, but always behind, taking your lead.”

“You make it sound so stiff and calculated.”

“And I have taken time off of work to be here.” I said. “All other Junior Associates are working overtime and through weekends to cash in as many billable hours as possible to be promoted to Full-time Associates, and instead I took off four days to travel with my dad.”

“Work, for work!”

“So, again, what do you want? How else am I not meeting your expectations?”

I spoke calmly, gently, and as low a volume as I could just to confront his joke not a minute before about how if I didn’t scream the others wouldn’t hear us. I made sure to be as poised and contained as I could. He heaved a sigh.

“I’m sorry you had to take time off work.”

I waited, as he stared in his usual lovingly, patient way. I smiled, more as a peace offering than genuinely.

“You know very well they won’t fire you.”

Still, I was quiet, smiling as sincerely as I could.

“And I know that isn’t fair, but there’s nothing I can do about it. So tell me something I can do and I will.”

“Okay.” I said, nodding. “I want your honesty. Don’t treat me like a child you need to protect, don’t patronize me. All I want is an honest answer.”

He adjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright. Go on.”

“Why am I here, papa?”

He blinked, seemingly confused. I could tell he expected a harder question.

“Your- Because your mother sprained her ankle?” he answered, still unsure. “What- do you mean philosophically? Why are any of us here, really? I don’t understand.”

I tried not to smile. “I mean I have a life. I am not your heir. Louis is your heir, it is his job to help you when mom has emergencies.”

He sighed deeply, finally arriving at the same page where I was.

“Your brother is in school.” He said. “And you are our oldest child. So, I’m sorry if it disrupts your life, Maggie. But you are needed.”

“And after school?” I asked “His graduation is in 6 months. Are you telling me that after he graduates university and moves back home, when he is starting his career, maybe moving to the capital, when you and mom have an emergency, you will call him up instead of me?”

He gave the table a sad smile. “If that is your wish, yes.”

“So that’s all, then?” I confirmed, suspiciously. “He moves back after graduation and you will give me the space I need?”

He smiled. “Is that what you want, then?” it wasn’t a confirmation. It was a tone of accomplishment. Of finally realizing what was it that I wanted, as if this entire conversation that’s what he had been trying to find out.

“I went to school for years. I interned for a year. I studied hard for the bar exams in America and Savoy. Yes, dad, I want to use the degree I worked hard for.”

“Okay, then. We will give you space.” He said. “Space from us, to be who you want to be. To be normal.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling, slightly amused at his dramatics. “That is not what I meant.”

“But it is accurate.”

“Papa...” I sighed.

“I’m just saying, sweetheart, I understand.” He insisted. “It’s why you went to America for University, it’s why you are based on the capital now. As long as you’re too close to us, you can’t live a normal life.”

“I can never live a normal life. We are not normal.”

“But you wish to try.”

I chuckled. “How?! You said it yourself, they will never fire me. My firm, I mean. Wherever I am, I am never just me and my degree and my career. People look at me and see you, as if I am you. I am their King. I am the Royal Family of Savoy. They’ll never take me seriously or afford me the same opportunities as everyone, because I am not everyone.”

He nodded, slowly, then sighed. “Yikes. You’re right. That sounds tough.”

“And I’m the passive aggressive one?”

“Job security and the attention of your bosses. That sounds awful.”

“Papa...”

“You want the space to dedicate yourself to your career without us pulling you away for royal work. Is that it? Okay. You got it. As soon as your brother is back from University, I will make sure you’re only needed for official events, and only if you’re not working.”

He sounded serious now. Sincere as when he delivered the End of Year address every Christmas, which was meaningful. Getting dad to afford me the same seriousness he afforded his subjects was as much seriousness as I could get from him. Still, there was no mistaking the sadness in his eyes.

“Even before his affirmation ceremony?” I asked, trying to sniff around for a trick.

The affirmation ceremony was meant to make clear to the country that an heir to throne had the seal of approval of the Monarch, and it usually happened when the heir was 21 years of age, to signify the Monarch believed in the event of a tragedy, the heir was ready to rule. In modern times, it meant an heir was ready to start working as a full-time royal. Though my brother was 22, the family had decided to wait until he had graduated university to do his ceremony.

Dad took longer than I wished, but finally, he nodded. “Yes. I promise.”

If you’re paying attention, then you might have noticed the math doesn’t add up. How come my 22 years-old brother is the heir when I said I am 25, the oldest child? Well, as with most fairytales, as well as with most of life, the problem is the patriarchy. For the thing is, though I was older than Louis by three years, because I was born a girl, he became the heir when he was born. So, at three, I went from future-Queen to lower ranking older sister.

It wasn’t unusual, my father himself had two older sisters who were lower than him and his brothers in the line of succession. As a result we had older cousins who we outranked. I cared about all this at 25 the same as when I was 3: not at all.

Absolute primogeniture law was passed in Savoy when I was 5, propelled by my birth and the new times. It was, however, not retroactive. This meant the law was changed for future births, not past ones, so all girls born after the law came into effect would be heirs in their own right, no matter how many brothers they got after, and all girls born before would go into history as having missed it by ‘just a bit’.

Louis and I, though, didn’t sit around having long discussions about who would be a better ruler. There has never been an instance in which we were arguing and I yelled something like, “first you stole my throne and now you stole my cookies! I hate you!”. For us this was just a little footnote in the family tree. A little fun fact to tell our future kids one day. And although I couldn’t remember what it felt like, I always knew it was much better not having to be the Crown Princess of Savoy.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we finally reached Penzance, the small town in the tip of the isle of England where sat the second Eurostar station, I was able to finally connect to the internet. My father left our train car to walk about with his security because he wanted to witness the new English policy of installing a check-point at the entry due to the immigrant crisis – a huge part of why we were there. While he did that, I sent Sophie my notes on the deposition, and answered some messages.

There was one from Louis, my aforementioned brother:

‘are you close?’

And one from our baby sister, Lourdes:

‘what do you think??!!!!!!!!’, with an attachment of two videos.

And, lastly, one from my mother, Her Majesty Queen Amelie-Elyse, back home with a sprained ankle.

‘Hope all is well! Let me know when you’re with your brother. Don’t forget to let your hair down before leaving the train!’

She didn’t mean it in a philosophical, have fun kind of way. She literally meant let my hair down, apparently it softened my features.

I replied to her with a selfie, with my hair properly brushed and down, in preparation for the arrival in London, which was close now. Let Louis know we were almost there. And sent a quick, uncommitted ‘woah!’ to my sister, without opening her attachments. They were always the same: videos of her practicing. There was only so much ice skating I could watch in a lifetime.

My mom answered my text with, “why did you change your dress?!”

I sighed, getting ready to justify this decision as well, already anticipating she would argue that the fascinator wouldn’t go with this one dress, so I told her I already had another fascinator standing by.

Growing up with fairytales they don’t tell you about the little annoying details. Characters who are annoying usually are the villains, the ones the Princess escapes from, usually saved by the prince. They don’t tell you sometimes, actually a lot of the times, the people you love can be equally as annoying.

---- ---- ---- ----

When we arrived at the station in London, I was already wearing my disc fascinator in a light shade of blue matching both my lace dress, this time reaching all the way to my ankles, and eyes. We were quickly greeted by the Savoyen Ambassador to England in front of the press, and escorted into government cars towards Whitehall.

The large parade ground was a traditional courtyard in central London that usually housed ceremonies related to the military and the royal family. When we arrived, the day finally was washed in a feeling of ceremony.

The place was lined neatly with military guards, security barricades and the Scotland Yard Police kept watchers and paparazzi at bay, the press lined up inside to have the best view of all involved. As we arrived, the traditional 41 gun salute was already sounding on. A military band was playing. People waved and yelled hello as we drove inside. I suddenly knew what to do, as if my body had the gene for it. This was one thing that was definitely genetic.

I stepped out of the car delicately, smoothly, knees together like a proper lady, polite smile on my lips in thanks to the guard who saluted as I left. My father greeted a handler who escorted us to the front of all the lined guards, where three structures had been set up: one large one in the middle, with a red-carpeted stage and a large roof, the British Royal Coat of Arms in the center with the British flag to its right and the Savoy flag to its left. Decorative flowers and elegant plants here and there. Two smaller, simpler structures to both of its sides. Inside all of them, men and women in formal suits and ties and knee-length, appropriate dresses and hats.

We walked the grovel path to the larger structure as the band played and the press, lined up in front of this platform, took their photographs. My father climbed the steps first, quickly being received by the small, elder, lady in a lavender overcoat and matching hat, impressive set of pearls dangling from her neck. She smiled as he lowered himself down to kiss both her cheeks warmly.

The queen then looked at me and I approached, just as our handler told Her Majesty:

“And may I present, Her Royal Highness, Princess Marie-Margueritte of Savoy.”

I lowered myself in a curtsy, and as she extended her hands to hold mine, I also kissed her cheeks, trying to avoid knocking her hat with mine.

“Welcome.” She smiled. “I hope the ride was forgiving.”

“Very comfortable.” My father told her. “Always surprising how fast it is.”

“Yes. You’ll remember, I’m sure, the Prince of Wales.” She said, walking us to the center of the platform where another two men awaited.

My father and the Prince of Wales greeted each other warmly, they were more used to running in the same circles – royal weddings here and there, international summits and meetings, or whatever it is they do.

“We’re so glad to have you.” He told my father.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my daughter, Princess Marie-Margueritte.”

Smiling, I curtsied to the Prince of Wales as he held my hand, before kissing my cheeks.

“You brighten this day, Your Royal Highness.” He told me, before stepping closer to add, in a whisper. “Sorry you have been dragged to this.”

I giggled, “I’m happy to be here, sir.”

Straightening up, he noticed my father was already greeting the man behind him. “Hopefully we won’t bore you too much. I have tried to bring someone else closer to your age. Have you met my son?”

The handler didn’t know it, but there were no introductions necessary. And yet, all I could do was smile politely as we were introduced to:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Harry of Wales.”

I wondered, for a moment, if he would acknowledge that we already knew each other.

“It’s a pleasure, Your Royal Highness.” Holding my hand in his, he brought my knuckles to his lips.

The answer was, obviously, no. So I lowered myself again in a curtsy as an excuse to avert my eyes from his.

I couldn’t understand why, but I had been unprepared for him. With all of Auguste’s preparation, all the briefings, with all the preachings about my appearance, no one had prepared me for him. I don’t know if it was that, like me, he was one of the youngest there, or how absurdly, almost ridiculously tall he was, or maybe how the blue in his eyes contrasted with the red of his hair, but he just… stunned me. When he kissed my hand, his eyes traveled down my legs all the way back to pierce mine, igniting a wave of electricity down my spine I was unable to control.

He leaned back, and there we stood, hand in hand, wordlessly.

“You can follow the King, ma’am.” Auguste whispered behind me, his voice making me jump slightly, as I quickly pulled my hand from Harry’s, not before realizing he had something scribbled on his palm.

My father and the Queen were deep in conversation, with Charles besides them, as they reached the center of the platform to watch the guards. The Queen in the middle, my father to her right, and the Prince of Wales to her left, I walked forward to stand beside my father, while Prince Harry walked to his.

We waited just a moment, and then the band started playing the Savoy National Anthem, and the British Anthem after it. A few words said, more ceremony here and there, and the Prince Wales formally invited my father to inspect the Guards, so they left together, accompanied by one of the military leaders to walk among the rolls of guards, as the three of us stood behind to watch.

“I was sorry to hear about your mother, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said, looking regretful, walking towards her, closing the gap left behind by the others. “She was sorry she couldn’t be here.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” Prince Harry interjected.

“A sprained ankle.” I explained, looking ahead.

“Harry is also here after a small hiccup with the Duchess of Cornwall, my daughter-in-law.” His grandmother told me. “An illness in her family, nothing serious.”

“Hopefully I��ll have time to meet her before we leave.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She nodded. “How did you mother hurt herself?”

“Horse fall. She was never very fond of Polo, I’m afraid this will drive her further away from it.”

“Oh, that is regretful.” The Queen said.

Harry looked at me. “Do you play?”

“I do, sir.”

“Harry is very good,” his grandmother told me, “he will be the one playing with you in the charity match in the coming days.”

“I look forward to-“, I started, but Harry had started the exact same sentence. We locked eyes, and chuckled.

“You first.” I said.

“Please, I insist.” He responded, cheeks reddening.

His grandmother looked between us, and then back to the uniformed men in front. She then said, in a low tone, something I would spend a large part of the upcoming months thinking obsessively about:

“Be careful with him... He will charm you, but he is a heartbreaker.”

The words astonished me so much I looked at her, unsure she had actually said them. But she had, clearly, because Harry was also looking at her, quite shocked.

“Granny!” he complained, in such a whiny tone I broke into laughter.

“Do I lie?” She asked him, grinning. It only made him look more shocked.

“Don’t ruin my reputation in front of foreign royals!” he said, in a low tone, before looking at me. “Specially such pretty ones.”

My giggle froze in my throat under his intense glare, and I could feel my cheeks reddening.

The Queen looked at me. “Oh, you’re blushing. It’s too late, I see.”

It was.

---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----

Margueritte’s outfit

The ask box is open! Let me know your thoughts? And if at all possible, like this page so I know you liked it? Thank you so much!

[A/N: Attention: by continuing to read you are accepting that some sad stuff is coming. You been warned. Thanks for checking this out! Let me know your thoughts?? thanks!!!!]

[A/N2: Hey! Nat here. I wanted to talk a little more about the story we are about to go on together.

In the upcoming chapters you will be introduced to the Royal Family of Savoy, a fictitious European country right below the UK, to left of France. When I first posted a fanfiction, FIUYMI, I made the main character latina, since that’s what I am, and I had previously felt that I couldn’t relate to other characters I had read. In this one, however, I decided I wanted to write about a fictitious monarchy, and I knew I wanted to make it as realistic as possible.

As much as I wanted at many points in the story to make the character look more like me, the idea felt like cheating: Margueritte is a blood royal, born to a life of specific privileges and hardships, and pretending she could look like the type of people who don’t have white privilege would be trying to ignore a very real issue: all monarchies - past and present - existed, lasted and gathered riches on the back of people of color. Most of their descendants still carry white and wealth privilege because these royal families, however many years ago, supported and perpetuated colonialism and white supremacy that left countless countries and their populations still recovering today.

That is a legacy Margueritte didn’t chose, and which she also doesn’t have to face, but in this story she will chose too. As you’ll see, she finds herself in a much more influential position she thought she would have, and as such she realizes she has two options: she can stick to the message her family - and other royal families - have perpetuated for generations and keep her head high, mouth and ears shut, so their legacy can survive; or she can chose to be a modern Queen who will make the institution relevant again. I want to write about this because this issue is important for the times we live in, particularly after the way the Duchess of Sussex was treated in the United Kingdom.

What that will look like will depend on who Margueritte is as a person and whose advice she takes, and that is a journey I hope you’ll take with us =) ]

#prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #princeharryff #royalfanficcollection #princeharryfanfiction #princeharryfanfic #brf #fanfic #fanfiction #modern royalty fanfic #chapters #modern royalty au #im so excited about this story #but also like #really nervous #i missed this

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-09-15

This caught me laaaate at night gosh I’m tired but I’m gonna get it outta the way so it won’t stick in my craw! Already saw the first page, so it’s time for:

> CHAPTER 13. The Funeral

Church with chess symbols at the peaks and a Prospit/Derse or Hope/Rage split color theme on the stained glass windows.

JANE: Dearly beloved...

> (==>)

Trolls, humans, and papparazzi. Oh, hm, this church is RATHER carapacian isn’t it? Between the chess and the continuing Prospit-Derse themes, like how this corresponds to how they align in the incipisphere top-left to bottom-right if I recall:

(Minus the outlying orbs to the left and right for symmetry.)

That twisted pattern is interesting, and not quite a spirograph. Is that gonna be important later? If we’re going to get some sort of class chart later in the comic, it’d be easy for them to hint at the chart’s graphical structure subtly by dropping it places like here.

JANE: Ladies... JANE: Gentlemen... JANE: News outlets... JANE: And other valued members of the Human Nation State.

Technically true, but still odd to hear-- ...oh right, I forgot this was asshole dictator-wannabe Jane, too.

I read an interesting twitter thread recently about the intense psychological distinction between wanting to BE the best, and wanting to be TREATED like you’re the best. Epilogues/HS^2 Jane is kind of written as a case study on the pitfalls of leaning on the latter instead of the former.

> (==>)

They brought Yiffy WITH them-!? --Oh right. The hostage exchange was supposed to happen here wasn’t it.

Yiffy definitely looks like a Harley-Lalonde daughter in this shot.

JANE: Gamzee Makara, High Court Jester, exalted saint of the purple veil, has left us to traverse that grand, gay carnival in the sky, where, I am told by various members of the clownly cloth, he will spend the rest of history, honking in grand tribute to the Mirthful Messiah.

SINGULAR???

Weird. Is it because Alt!Callie “won” here?

Or is Jane just forgetting because she’s culturally used to monotheism (ironically) and is insensitive.

JANE: And my first memory of our Purple Prince, was his robust codpiece--

Wow.

> (==>)

JANE: --As he offered me his friendly support, along with the sacred blood of his brethren, the holy sacrament--

He STILL killed trolls??! (EDIT: No, a friend points out that she's talking about when she met him first in Act 6 and he tried selling bottles of troll blood to her. EDIT2: -which may be another inconsistency, since Vriska supposedly overwrote that post-retcon.)

> (==>)

It takes Jake a few seconds of puzzled eye contact before he catches exactly what it is Yiffany is tossing down. In his defense, he is distracted by his wife’s speech, which is doing the emotional equivalent of wringing him out like a wet towel, before using that towel to slap the sweaty buttocks of a large, odorous man. Even if he knows everything she’s saying is a load of horsefeathers, it does nothing for his composure to hear her heap praise on that smelly, homewrecking clown.

Bad things about Gamzee deserve to be said here, yes.

Jake wonders what she’ll say about him, at his own funeral.

Now those are some uncomfortable thoughts.

He narrows his eyes in Yiffany’s direction. She’s a lovely girl, really. He wishes he could have gotten to know her under better circumstances. He’d known she existed, of course--Jane had complained about her often enough--but they’d never had much chance to get acquainted. He rather believes her and Tavvy would have been fast friends.

Then again, perhaps it’s better that she never had much of a chance to get to know his family.

He lets go of the leash.

Yep, there’s a plan to set in motion that he’s probably already discussed with her privately. Gotta unite this four-kid team after all.

> (==>)

Wait, are you ATTACKING?!? --Of course you’re attacking. You would even if the plan was something different, wouldn’t you.

JANE: And I know that at times like these it is easy to want to give in. JANE: To throw in the towel, and turn our faces away from the light of democracy and moral fortitude that we, the citizens of the human kingdom, are blessed with from birth. JANE: God knows I’ve had my own faith tested in the last few weeks.

Jesus Christ, what has she turned the place into, a fucking theocracy?

She sounds like the leader of some screwed-up, fundamentalist country! Like the United States!

*rimshot*

JANE: As many of you know, I did not grow up with the same privileges that all of you enjoy.

Jesus.

JANE: I was born on proto-Earth, that half-finished dystopia mangled by the ravages of foolish leadership and endless war.

Jesus, she really IS a self-evident takedown of hypocritical entitled political figures. With the bonuses having Jasprose explicitly ADDRESS said entitlement to make things even clearer cut.

JANE: And as for Gamzee, well, his upbringing was even worse. JANE: He was born to a violent and uncaring home, a lonely child with few natural gifts.

...Some natural gifts and status.

> (==>)

She’s just, shaking with fury here isn’t she? And about to perform an impressive corpse-lob.

JANE: It would be simple to let this disgusting, vile, SHAMEFUL act of spiteful revenge turn us away from the blinding light of the sword of justice that hangs over us all--

This sentence seems suspicious so I’m quoting it to refer to later if I need to, but is probably just platitudes.

> (==>)

JANE: Poised

> (==>)

JANE: Trembling

Okay maybe the sword’s a dick, but what exactly is Yiffany doing?? I’m finding it difficult as usual to tell between some of these image transitions.

> (==>)

JANE: Ready to burst forth--

Bad PR to shock-collar a kid mid press junket. (Very dicks description.)

> (==>)

Click. (Did they swap the shock function with Jane’s necklace somehow, that’d be fun.)

JANE: I want to give up, at times. I understand your pain.

While shocking a kid? GREAT PR.

> (==>)

JANE: I sympathize with your pain.

Wow, those horrified audience members. She REALLY can’t even see herself anymore can she? Not even hear herself. And they’re making sure this is pointed out to EVERYONE watching. They described this as in large part a PR campaign to defeat her, didn’t they?

> (==>)

Great furious businesswoman-villain look, that art.

JANE: But when that pain! Becomes too hard! To endure! JANE: Remember poor, lifeless Gamzee! Who suffered pain far worse than any of us could ever fathom! JANE: THE PAIN OF BETRAYAL!

Click click click. This is a fun sequence.

> (==>)

DIRK: Dude, didn’t you lower the voltage on that shock collar? DIRK: Little Red isn’t looking so hot. JAKE: Yes of course i did but the damn doohickys got the kick of a donkey! JAKE: I couldnt remove it completely shed know i was the one who did it! DIRK: Well, if that supervillain cuntwaffle doesn’t stop, she’s going to kill her. Not really the best at hostage management, is she.

Decent plan. (And of course Dirk would pull out the word cunt.) When’s the cavalry coming?

> (==>)

JANE: But we cannot allow his memory to be in vain! JANE: For Gamzee Makara taught us that even the most loathsome degenerate can take their place in society. JANE: All they need is the right redemption arc - !

Trying to hammer home some of the Epilogue’s trolly-critical themes a little less bleakly, I take it.

I kind of like the violent vibration in ALL of these gifs in a row. It makes the scene seem small, slow, teeth-clenching but still full of steady action, emphasizing the importance of the relatively small events from panel to panel while giving them the sense with the animation of them being [i]drawn out[/i] and tortuous instead of just “occurring”. It feels that way to me, anyway.

> (==>)

If he got up alive here, that’d be hilarious. (Presumably he’s been treated and done-up like a normal funeral body, not “dormant” and undecaying like a dead god-tier.)

> (==>)

CORPSE PUNT w/ CLEATS

> (==>)

That face is just. I love that face.

> (==>)

SHE MAD

JANE: Young lady, I am just about at the end of my rope with you. JANE: Throw all the dog bowls you want at the walls of my warship. JANE: But don’t you dare act up in front of a JANE: Live JANE: Fucking JANE: Newsfeed! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

What did you expect to happen? Do you expect to shout her down from this, Jane?

JANE: After everything I’ve done for you--paying for your education, helping your parents cover up your existence from the world! JANE: Just imagine what Rose and Jade would say if they could see you now, even dissidents can have a little decorum! JANE: Get down from there at once! YIFFY: Grrrrrr

But this is GAMZEE. --I guess it’s seriously disrespectful to his followers, though. Still. If you wanted civility from her, a shock collar, leash, and food bowl wasn’t the way to go about it.

JANE: Don’t you threaten me, young lady. Not today! YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR

What is your PLAN even, Jane? You’ve completely disregarded her.

JANE: There’s nowhere for you to go. My agents are swarming this church. Be reasonable, Yiffany. JANE: Ugh. JANE: Disgusting name. JANE: But that’s hardly your fault. You were always just a footnote. Your parents’ little prank. JANE: Honestly, that’s why I helped them all those years ago! I do love a good jape. JANE: But let’s be serious. JANE: You don’t matter. If you did, they would have come for you already.

Can all the press hear her being such an asshole?

Okay, stereotypically, their arrival should be the next couple panels:

> (==>)

Jake, do something useful like hoping harder.

> (==>)

And she knocks the remote away. Excellent.

And she does. Seemingly at the end of her tolerance for insults toward her name, social status, and heritage, Yiffy performs an impressive backflip off the podium and down onto the church floor. One that, if it hadn’t been happening amidst a sea of other newsworthy events, would surely have ended up on someone’s instagram story within thirty seconds. She gives Gamzee’s corpse one last parting kick: a hard, proper kick that proves those cleats aren’t just for fashion. Although they are certainly also for fashion.

Good, good.

He vanishes into the seething crowd, and we are confident that we will never have to deal with this asshole ever again.

God damnit.

> (==>)

Jake watches this from a safe distance, poised on the edge of intervening to pull Yiffy out of there. But in the end he doesn’t have to. Instead he watches in admiration as she tears the place to utter shreds. An echoing sympathy swells inside of him as she rends apart the funeral flowers and punts Gamzee into the shrieking congregation. Here is a girl who felt the cold, indecent hand of fate wrapping around her, and instead of submitting to it and slowly sublimating down into morasse of boiled doormat, she slapped it away from her with a lively oh, no thank you.

All at once, Jake feels immense affection for his granddaughter. He hopes the two of them can make up for lost time.

Lessons belatedly learned, but learned nonetheless.

> (==>)

JANE: Enough of this. JANE: Seize her!

Kind of Red Queen of you. (Are those stained glass windows in back of the frame about to burst?)

> (==>)

Yep.

The stained glass window shatters inward, obliterated to stardust. The war is knocking.

Even attacking a disgusting faith’s church is pretty bad form, though.

Tired and busy, seeya next upd8. <3

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers

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murkserious · 4 years

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We Did Not Sell Each Other Into Slavery.

The single most effective White propaganda assertion that continues to make it very difficult for us to reconstruct the African social systems of mutual trust broken down by U.S. Slavery is the statement, unqualified, that, "We sold each other into slavery." Most of us have accepted this statement as true at its face value. It implies that parents sold their children into slavery to Whites, husbands sold their wives, even brothers and sisters selling each other to the Whites. It continues to perpetuate a particularly sinister effluvium of Black character. But deep down in the Black gut, somewhere beneath all the barbecue ribs, gin and whitewashed religions, we know that we are not like this.

This singular short tart claim, that "We sold each other into slavery", has maintained in a state of continual flux our historical basis for Black-on-Black self love and mutual cooperation at the level of Class.

The period from the beginning of the TransAtlantic African Slave so-called Trade (1500) to the demarcation of Africa into colonies in the late 1800s is one of the most documented periods in World History. Yet, with the exception of the renegade African slave raider Tippu Tip of the Congo Arabs(Muslim name, Hamed bin Muhammad bin Juna al-Marjebi) who was collaborating with the White Arabs (also called Red Arabs) there is little documentation of independent African slave raiding. By independent is meant that there were no credible threats, intoxicants or use of force by Whites to force or deceive the African into slave raiding or slave trading and that the raider himself was not enslaved to Whites at the time of slave raiding or "trading". Trade implies human-to-human mutuality without force. This was certainly not the general scenario for the TransAtlantic so-called Trade in African slaves. Indeed, it was the Portuguese who initiated the European phase of slave raiding in Africa by attacking a sleeping village in 1444 and carting away the survivors to work for free in Europe.

Even the case of Tippu Tip may well fall into a category that we might call the consequences of forced cultural assimilation via White (or Red) Arab Conquest over Africa. Tippu Tip s father was a White (or Red) Arab slave raider, his mother an unmixed African slave. Tip was born out of violence, the rape of an African woman. It is said that Tip, a "mulatto", was merciless to Africans.

The first act against Africa by Whites was an unilateral act of war, announced or unannounced. There were no African Kings or Queens in any of the European countries nor in the U.S. when ships set sail for Africa to capture Africans for profit. Whites had already decided to raid for slaves. They didn't need our agreement on that. Hence, there was no mutuality in the original act. The African so-called slave "trade" was a demand-driven market out of Europe and America, not a supply-driven market out of Africa. We did not seek to sell captives to the Whites as an original act. Hollywood s favorite is showing Blacks capturing Blacks into slavery, as if this was the only way capture occurred. There are a number of ways in which capture occurred. Let s dig a little deeper into this issue.

Chancellor Williams, in his classic work, The Destruction of Black Civilization, explains that after the over land passage of African trade had been cut off at the Nile Delta by the White Arabs in about 1675 B.C. (the Hyksos), the Egyptian/African economy was thrown into a recession. There is even indication of "pre-historic" aggression upon Africa by White nomadic tribes (the Palermo Stone).. This culminated as an unfortunate trade, in that, when the White Arabs attacked, they had the benefit of the knowledge and strength of Africans on their side, as their slaves. This is a significantly different picture than the propaganda that we sold our immediate family members into slavery to the Whites.

It becomes a kind of racism; that, while all ethnic groups have sold its own ethnic group into slavery, Blacks can't do it. When Eastern Europeans fight each other it is not called tribalism. Ethnic cleansing is intended to make what is happening to sound more sanitary. What it really is, is White Tribalism pure and simple.

The fact of African resistance to European Imperialism and Colonialism is not well known, though it is well documented. Read, for instance, Michael Crowder (ed.), West African Resistance, Africana Publishing Corporation, New York, 1971. Europeans entered Africa in the mid 1400 s and early 1500 s during a time of socio-political transition. Europeans chose a favorite side to win between African nations at a war and supplied that side with guns, a superior war instrument. In its victory, the African side with guns rounded up captives of war who were sold to the Europeans in exchange for more guns or other barter. Whites used these captives in their own slave raids. These captives often held pre-existing grudges against groups they were ordered to raid, having formerly been sold into slavery themselves by these same groups as captives in inter-African territorial wars. In investigating our history and capture, a much more completed picture emerges than simply that we sold each other into slavery.

The Ashanti, who resisted British Imperialism in a Hundred Years War, sold their African captives of war and criminals to other Europeans, the Portuguese, Spanish, French, in order to buy guns to maintain their military resistance against British Imperialism (Michael Crowder, ed., West African Resistance).

Eric A. Walker, in A History of Southern Africa, Longmans, London, 1724, chronicles the manner in which the Dutch entered South Africa at the Cape of Good Hope. Van Riebeeck anchored at the Cape with his ships in 1652 during a time that the indigenous Khoi Khoi or Khoisan (derogatorily called Hottentots) were away hunting. The fact of their absence is the basis of the White "claim" to the land. But there had been a previous encounter with the Khoi Khoi at the Cape in 1510 with the Portuguese Ship Almeida. States Eric A. Walker, "Affonso de Albuquerque was a conscious imperialist whose aim was to found self-sufficing colonies and extend Portuguese authority in the East&He landed in Table Bay, and as it is always the character of the Portuguese to endeavor to rob the poor natives of the country, a quarrel arose with the Hottentots, who slew him and many of his companions as they struggled towards their boats through the heavy sand of Salt River beach." (Ibid. p. 17). Bartholomew Diaz had experienced similar difficulties with the indigenous Xhosa of South Africa in 1487, on his way to "discovering" a "new" trade route to the East. The conflict ensued over a Xhosa disagreement over the price Diaz wanted to pay for their cattle. The Xhosa had initially come out meet the Whites, playing their flutes and performing traditional dance.

In 1652, knowing that the indigenous South Africans were no pushovers, Van Riebeeck didn't waste any time. As soon as the Khoi Khoi returned from hunting, Van Riebeeck accused them of stealing Dutch cattle. Simply over that assertion, war broke out, and the superior arms of the Dutch won. South African Historian J. Congress Mbata best explains this dynamic in his lectures, available at the Cornell University Africana Studies Department. Mbata provides three steps: 1) provocation by the Whites, 2) warfare and, 3) the success of a superior war machinery.

There are several instances in which Cecil Rhodes, towards the end of the 19th Century, simply demonstrated the superiority of the Maxim Machine Gun by mowing down a corn field in a matter of minutes. Upon such demonstrations the King and Queen of the village, after consulting the elders, signed over their land to the Whites. These scenarios are quite different from the Hollywood version, and well documented.

It has been important to present the matters above to dispel the notion of an African slave trade that involved mutuality as a generalized dynamic on the part of Africans. If we can accept the documented facts of our history above and beyond propaganda, we can begin to heal. We can begin to love one another again and go on to regain our liberties on Earth.

Respectfully,

Oscar L. Beard, B.A., RPCV

slavery at the dawn of capitalism and the ideology of white supremacy

Slaves were denied any rights. Throughout the colonies in the Caribbean to North America, laws were passed establishing a variety of common practices: Slaves were forbidden to carry weapons, they could marry only with the owner's permission, and their families could be broken up. They were forbidden to own property. Masters allowed slaves to cultivate vegetables and chickens, so the master wouldn't have to attend to their food needs. But they were forbidden even to sell for profit the products of their own gardens. Click and read more...

http://www.reunionblackfamily.com/apps/blog/show/11782086-we-did-not-sell-each-other-into-slavery

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alltimebestbooks · 4 years

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Best Investing and Finance Books

Best Investing Books

1. The Intelligent Investor by benjamin graham

The greatest investment advisor of the twentieth century, Benjamin Graham taught and inspired people worldwide. Graham's philosophy of “value investing”—which shields investors from substantial error and teaches them to develop long-term strategies—has made The Intelligent Investor the stock market bible ever since its original publication in 1949.

Over the years, market developments have proven the wisdom of Graham’s strategies. While preserving the integrity of Graham’s original text, this revised edition includes updated commentary by noted financial journalist Jason Zweig, whose perspective incorporates the realities of today’s market, draws parallels between Graham’s examples and today’s financial headlines, and gives readers a more thorough understanding of how to apply Graham’s principles.

Vital and indispensable, The Intelligent Investor is the most important book you will ever read on how to reach your financial goals.

2. How to Avoid Loss and Earn Consistently in the Stock Market: An Easy-To-Understand and Practical Guide for Every Investor

Hundreds of books are there about ""How to make money from stocks?"" Still 80% small investors suffer loss in the stock market. Why?

Plenty of free trading tips are available across Television and Internet; still maximum small investors are unable to earn significant return consistently from trading. Why?

Why maximum individuals still consider the stock market as a place for gambling?

Investing in high-quality business (stock) at the right price and holding them for a reasonable period is the only way for wealth creation.Written in an easy-to-understand and simple language, this book will guide you on how to select fundamentally strong business, when to buy and sell stocks and above all how to minimize or avoid loss in the stock market. Chapters- 1. How to avoid loss in the stock market? 2. Stock Market is NOT risky at all 3. First step of picking winning stocks 4. How to evaluate management? 5. Valuation - It matters much 6. When to buy and when to sell 7. Do's and don'ts to avoid loss in the stock market 8. How to construct your portfolio? 9. Is it required to follow an equity advisor? 10. Quick formula for picking winning stocks 11. Little bit of myself - Important Lessons to be learnt

The book ends with a small note on "Life is not all about the stock market and money"

3. One Up On Wall Street: How to Use What You Already Know to Make Money in the Market

Penned by the famous mutual-fund manager, Peter Lynch, this book elaborates the many advantages that an average investor has over professionals and how they can help them reach financial triumph.

How To Use What You Already Know To Make Money in The Market explains how your knowledge alone can assist you beat the pros of investing. From the viewpoint of America's most triumphant money manager, investment chances are extensively accessible. Whether supermarket or work place, you can find goods and services everywhere. You have to select these organizations in which to invest, before they are found by skilled analysts. You will find more interesting knowledge on investment. Thus the book has become one of the best seller and treasure among readers. Moreover, this book provides time less recommendation on money business. This book has discussed the tips, ebb and flows on building it big in the investment market.

4. How to Make Money in Stocks: A Winning System in Good Times and Bad

Written by the acclaimed entrepreneur, William J O'Neil, How to Make Money in Stocks: A Winning System in Good Times and Bad, Fourth Edition is a handy guide that that deals with the stock market and its intricacies. The author of this book has written down the hard-earned knowledge he gained from his own experiences as an investor.

The price charts of winning stocks from the past century have been listed out in the beginning of this book. These charts are supplemented with notes throughout in order to make them more comprehensible to readers. In this book, the author discusses his trademark CAN SLIM method of investing.

The CAN SLIM method put together by the author consists of 7 steps which are aimed at maximising profits. This book imparts valuable information about the times when one needs to cut a loss and the times when one needs to invest and make a profit.

Mutual funds and exchange-traded funds are discussed as well by the author and he provides important tips on the ways to properly approach them while investing. The CAN SLIM method highlighted in this book was formulated by the author after analysing stock market patterns over the last 100 years.

How to Make Money in Stocks: A Winning System in Good Times and Bad, Fourth Edition runs its readers through important investment-related aspects such as an organisation's growth rate, demand and supply, mutual funds, etc

5. Irrational Exuberance by Robert J.Shiller

As Robert Shiller’s new 2009 preface to his prescient classic on behavioral economics and market volatility asserts, the irrational exuberance of the stock and housing markets “has been ended by an economic crisis of a magnitude not seen since the Great Depression of the 1930s.” As we all, ordinary Americans and professional investors alike, crawl from the wreckage of our heedless bubble economy, the shrewd insights and sober warnings, and hard facts that Shiller marshals in this book are more invaluable than ever.

The original and bestselling 2000 edition of Irrational Exuberance evoked Alan Greenspan’s infamous 1996 use of that phrase to explain the alternately soaring and declining stock market. It predicted the collapse of the tech stock bubble through an analysis of the structural, cultural, and psychological factors behind levels of price growth not reflected in any other sector of the economy. In the second edition (2005), Shiller folded real estate into his analysis of market volatility, marshalling evidence that housing prices were dangerously inflated as well, a bubble that could soon burst, leading to a “string of bankruptcies” and a “worldwide recession.” That indeed came to pass, with consequences that the 2009 preface to this edition deals with.

Irrational Exuberance is more than ever a cogent, chilling, and astonishingly far-seeing analytical work that no one with any money in any market anywhere can afford not to read–and heed.

Best Finance Books

1. The Millionaire Next Door: The Surprising Secrets of America's Wealthy

The bestselling The Millionaire Next Door identifies seven common traits that show up again and again among those who have accumulated wealth. Most of the truly wealthy in this country don't live in Beverly Hills or on Park Avenue-they live next door. This new edition, the first since 1998, includes a new foreword for the twenty-first century by Dr. Thomas J. Stanley.

2. Technical Analysis of the Financial Markets: A Comprehensive Guide to Trading Methods and Applications

John J. Murphy has now updated his landmark bestseller Technical Analysis of the Futures Markets, to include all of the financial markets.

This outstanding reference has already taught thousands of traders the concepts of technical analysis and their application in the futures and stock markets. Covering the latest developments in computer technology, technical tools, and indicators, the second edition features new material on candlestick charting, intermarket relationships, stocks and stock rotation, plus state-of-the-art examples and figures. From how to read charts to understanding indicators and the crucial role technical analysis plays in investing, readers gain a thorough and accessible overview of the field of technical analysis, with a special emphasis on futures markets. Revised and expanded for the demands of today's financial world, this book is essential reading for anyone interested in tracking and analyzing market behavior.

3. The Simple Path to Wealth: Your Road Map to Financial Independence and a Rich, Free Life

“In the dark, bewildering, trap-infested jungle of misinformation and opaque riddles that is the world of investment, JL Collins is the fatherly wizard on the side of the path, offering a simple map, warm words of encouragement and the tools to forge your way through with confidence. You'll never find a wiser advisor with a bigger heart.” -- Malachi Rempen: Filmmaker, cartoonist, author and self-described ruffian

This book grew out of a series of letters to my daughter concerning various things—mostly about money and investing—she was not yet quite ready to hear.

Since money is the single most powerful tool we have for navigating this complex world we’ve created, understanding it is critical.

“But Dad,” she once said, “I know money is important. I just don’t want to spend my life thinking about it.” This was eye-opening. I love this stuff. But most people have better things to do with their precious time. Bridges to build, diseases to cure, treaties to negotiate, mountains to climb, technologies to create, children to teach, businesses to run.

Unfortunately, benign neglect of things financial leaves you open to the charlatans of the financial world. The people who make investing endlessly complex, because if it can be made complex it becomes more profitable for them, more expensive for us, and we are forced into their waiting arms.

Here’s an important truth: Complex investments exist only to profit those who create and sell them. Not only are they more costly to the investor, they are less effective.

The simple approach I created for her and present now to you, is not only easy to understand and implement, it is more powerful than any other.

Together we’ll explore:

Debt: Why you must avoid it and what to do if you have it.

The importance of having F-you Money.

How to think about money, and the unique way understanding this is key to building your wealth.

Where traditional investing advice goes wrong and what actually works.

What the stock market really is and how it really works.

Why the stock market always goes up and why most people still lose money investing in it.

How to invest in a raging bull, or bear, market.

Specific investments to implement these strategies.

The Wealth Building and Wealth Preservation phases of your investing life and why they are not always tied to your age.

How your asset allocation is tied to those phases and how to choose it.

How to simplify the sometimes confusing world of 401(k), 403(b), TSP, IRA and Roth accounts.

TRFs (Target Retirement Funds), HSAs (Health Savings Accounts) and RMDs (Required Minimum Distributions).

What investment firm to use and why the one I recommend is so far superior to the competition.

Why you should be very cautious when engaging an investment advisor and whether you need to at all.

Why and how you can be conned, and how to avoid becoming prey.

Why I don’t recommend dollar cost averaging.

What financial independence looks like and how to have your money support you.

What the 4% rule is and how to use it to safely spend your wealth.

The truth behind Social Security.

A Case Study on how this all can be implemented in real life.

Don’t let any of this intimidate you. Those that have gone before you say:

“….in his patented no-frills and often humorous style, JL makes it both approachable and simple. And powerful.” “…effective message told in a visual, funny style.” “…a refreshingly unique and approachable take on investing.” “JL Collins has the gift of making boring financial concepts funny and interesting.” “Instead of esoteric equations about measuring a stock's alpha and comparing it to its beta, he lights up the campfire and starts telling stories.”

Enjoy the read, and the journey!

4. The Essays of Warren Buffett: Lessons for Corporate America

The fifth edition of The Essays of Warren Buffett: Lessons for Corporate Americacontinues a 25-year tradition of collating Warren Buffett's philosophy in a historic collaboration between Mr. Buffett and Prof. Lawrence Cunningham. As the book Buffett autographs most, its popularity and longevity attest to the widespread appetite for this unique compilation of Mr. Buffett’s thoughts that is at once comprehensive, non-repetitive, and digestible. New and experienced readers alike will gain an invaluable informal education by perusing this classic arrangement of Mr. Buffett's best writings.

“Larry Cunningham has done a great job at collating our philosophy.”—Warren Buffett

"Larry Cunningham takes Buffett's brilliant letters to a still-higher level by organizing them into single-subject chapters. The book begins, moreover, with an excellent introduction by Larry.”—Carol Loomis

“The book on Buffett—a superb job.”—Forbes

“Extraordinary—full of wisdom, humor, and common sense.”—Money

“A classic on value investing and the definitive source on Buffett.”—Financial Times

5. Too Big to Fail: Inside the Battle to Save Wall Street

They were masters of the financial universe, flying in private jets and raking in billions. They thought they were too big to fail. Yet they would bring the world to its knees.

Andrew Ross Sorkin, the news-breaking New York Times journalist, delivers the first true in-the-room account of the most powerful men and women at the eye of the financial storm - from reviled Lehman Brothers CEO Dick 'the gorilla' Fuld, to banking whiz Jamie Dimon, from bullish Treasury Secretary Hank Paulson to AIG's Joseph Cassano, dubbed 'The Man Who Crashed the World'.

Through unprecedented access to the key players, Sorkin meticulously re-creates frantic phone calls, foul-mouthed rows and white-knuckle panic, as Wall Street fought to save itself.

#finance #investing #investing books #finance books

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longwindedbore · 5 years

Text

Before we rush into another war because a POTUS *says* they have a double secret intelligence report more accurate than everyone else- like the one in 2004 on Saddam’s WMDs. Or like...

Part 2 of “More Generals Died at Baghdad Airport Last Week than at the Pentagon on 9/11/01”

Once we “Remember 9/11” like we “Remember the Maine” or “Remember the Alamo”, we as a a National Culture are conditioned to rally ‘round the flag and Ask-No-Questions. Questions like..

Why did the terrorist pilot of Plane #3 deliberately chose the least damaging way to strike the Pentagon? The method guaranteed to kill the least number of victims? Unless he had been instructed to do so?

It’s difficult to conceive that any terrorist or mastermind with more than five minutes explosive experience would have chosen to hit an outside wall of the Pentagon.

As would be predictable, plane #3 exploded dissipating most of its energy * away * from the building. As evidenced by the engine and other parts strewn on the lawn outside the building. As graphically depicted below.

Had the pilot instead flown over the roof hitting any inside wall of the Courtyard the resulting explosion away from the point of impact would have reverberated against all the walls. At the least sending window glass flying through offices. Bigwigs have window offices. Spewing fuel and starting fires.

Further, why not choose a side of the building that is a target rich environment when such digrams are readily available?

Beyond Plane #3 having had the statistically ridiculous bad *luck* of targeting exactly the one section of the Pentagon that was devoid of military personnel.

Plus *inadvertently* targeting and wiping out the one group the terrorists should have preferred to have been helping - those pesky civilian accountants investigating $2.7 Trillion in fraud by Major Weapons Suppliers. Some of those Weapons Manufacturers might have been closed down; the Predatory CEOs imprisoned. Too bad the evidence was all incinerated.

Plus plus the incredible almost unbelievable bad luck that those accountants had only just been moved into the largely empty outer ring section that took a basically imbecilic hit.

Sort of the same amazing coincidences as at the Twin Towers. Beginning with “Why the Twin Towers?”

Most of us in 2001, indeed most of the World, had never heard of ‘the World Trade Center’. Certainly would not equate it with important USA cultural institutions. The towers were considered eyesores by New Yorkers.

Much like striking the outside wall of the Pentagon, hitting the Twin Towers had * zero* affect on the US to do business or wage war. Dropping a plane on the Federal Reserve or the Stock Exchange would have been economically crippling.

To accomplish a hit on the Fed or WallStreet the plane would only have to come in low and slower like Plane #3 had to do to hit low on the outside wall.

Instead plane #1 hits just under Cantor Fitzgerald stock brokerage trapping all its employees. Hitting unnecessarily low as it turns out because plane #2 hits higher up. Coincidentally plane #2 wiping out the commercial banking floors.

The double secret intelligence (alleged but never produced) report that Bush (?) or Cheney (?) * depended * on indicated Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, Afghanistan were responsible.

Because of that never produced report we invaded Afghanistan. Despite in 2001 neither Bin Laden, Al Qaeda, the Taliban acknowledging they were responsible.

Odd since Bin Laden and Al Qaeda acknowledged immediately the bombings of the US embassies in Africa in 1998 and on the US Cole. But is silent on 9/11?

Since no entity had come forward to claim responsibility, had Bush not declared Afghanistan the culprit, the Bush Administration would have been * forced * to investigate suspicious stock trading before 9/11/01. Since none of those trading had any connection to Bin Laden, Al Qaeda or Afghanistan, the investigation was cut short.

Amazing, simply amazing, * coincidence * of the sudden massive shorting of stock options for the airlines and firms with offices in the Twin Towers. The destruction of the financial records in both Towers while killing potential witnesses.

Or the coincidence of massive surge in stocks for weapons manufacturers just before 9/11. Even more curious after Bush had earlier in 2001declared that the US was cutting armed forces particularly overseas.

Sort of like the Bush/Cheney Administration taking the * curious * step of deputizing as “special agents” anyone and everyone in US Financial institutions who might have any knowledge of these pre-9/11 trades. Alas, as “special agents” whether they wanted to be or not, they can never divulge one word of what they might know. To speak would result in Federal Prosecution like they were Chelsea Manning or Julian Assange.

Sort of like the Bush (?) Cheney (?) decision to redact the FBI’s 28 pages of the 9/11 Commission report that indicted Saudi Arabiaasthe recruiter and helper of the terrorists.

Saudi Arabia. Homeland of most of the Terrorists. Close Friends to the Bush family, to Cheney. Enemies of Bin Laden. Now friends with the Trump family. N

We the People have been led into almost every war by false flag incidents, exaggerations, to deal with puppet that cut its strings, or a re-election. Always for land, natural resources, war profiteering, oil.

Just maybe it’s time to stop?

=====================

1755 - land, false flag attack

1801 - war profiteering, exaggeration Slogan: “ Millions for War, not one penny for tribute” (while the US budget was 25% for tribute)

1812 - war profiteering and land

1836 - protect property (slaves) Slogan: “remember the Alamo”

1848 - land, false flag attack

1852 - access to markets & oil (whale), exaggeration (settles without loss of life;

1861 - protect property (slaves), false flag attack (fire on fort whose guns can only be aimed out to sea) Slogan: “Remember Fort Sumter”.

1898 - property, either false flag attack or exaggeration Slogan: “Remember the Maine”

1917 - war profiteering, exaggeration (Zimmerman Telegram). Slogan “Remember the Lusitania” (forget that it blew up 2 years earlier)

1919 - war profiteering (aborted)

Sept. 1941 - false flag (failed)

Dec. 1941 - war profiteering, oil & land grab - USA reinforces Pacific Fleet by moving home fleet to Pearl Harbor mid-pacific refueling station. Threatens to cut off oil to Japan if the Japanese doesn’t stop trying to seize China and instead joins the Axis to attack anti-capitalist Russia. Continue to sell military supplies to Japan for Russian invasion. While EVERY other country is at war, USA intended to use its reinforced Pacific fleet based in the Philippines to at least economically dominate if not seize rubber rich IndoChina and oil rich Indonesia. (like we also took the Virgin Islands Greenland and Iceland before the war) . However, Japan elects to not go to war with USSR. Decides to sink US Pacific Fleet and home Fleets. Elects to seize the IndoChina rubber and Indonesian oil fields. Japan wins battle of Java sea against alliance including US ships. US Ships which had left the Phillipines immediately after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Leaving US forces at Bataan stranded without an escape by sea.

1963- (1919 part 2). US places nuclear ballistic missles in Turkey able to launch surprise knockout into USSR stategic resources.m. After which USSR places nuclear ballistic missles in Cuba able to hit surprise knockout into Miami and future Disneyworld swamp land. Two nuclear powers plot global “warming”. Slogan “90 miles from our coast!” (A thousand from any target)

1964- war profiteering, false flag attack, seize IndoChina part 2 (or 3). Slogan: “Domino principal”

1984 - re-election Slogan: “Grenada?”

1989 - puppet cut its strings Slogan: “Noriega is collecting Hitler memorabilia!”

1990 - puppet cuts its strings. Oil. Slogan: “Saddam is collecting Hitler memorabilia!”

2001 - war profiteering, (as yet unproven) false flag attack. Slogan: “Remember 9/11”.

2004 - war profiteering, oil, exaggeration. Slogan “Remember 9/11!”

2019 - oil. false flag attacks on oil tankers in gulf by the Kaiser, no...SPECTRE...no wait...Iran.

2020 - re-election, oil. Is it a false flag if we provoke violent retaliation for the assasination of master terrorist general no one in US ever heard of but was responsible for killing US troops in massacres we did not know happened?

#was 9/11 a false flag?#secret reports and other lies

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robert-c · 5 years

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Obstacles to Real Health Care Reform

I’m not interested in detailing the pros and cons of any specific version or proposal of the health care reform debate. Partly because they change so often and mostly because I don’t think that’s the real problem with getting support for reasonable reform. I do have some ideas of what is essential for real health care reform. But first, why is this so hard to discuss intelligently?

For 40 years we have been on a trend of political and cultural thinking that emphasizes personal self-sufficiency and glorifies personal enrichment. These ideas attach themselves to some very old and long running American beliefs and, when not pushed too far, they are responsible for very good things in our country. However, as you might have guessed, I think they have gone too far, and the health care reform “debate” is just one example.

There is a certain level of hypocrisy in the scare stories that are circulated. One of which is that care will be rationed. Anyone who thinks care isn’t rationed now just hasn’t been seriously ill lately, or isn’t paying close attention. Even if you are lucky enough to have affordable insurance, the insurance companies have their own rules about what sort of care you can receive under your coverage; the diagnosis you must have in order to get this treatment, the treatment you must try first, the drugs that will (and won’t) be approved for your conditions. So is it really rationing that’s being opposed, or who’s doing the rationing? Or maybe rationing is OK as long as you’re rich enough to get around it? This belief certainly plays to the well to do, and more importantly, the “well to do wannabes.” And finally, if there is to be rationing of care, should it be done by an entity with a profit motive that incents denying care, answerable only to the largest bloc of shares, or by doctors at most reviewed by an entity subject (at least in part) to the will of people?

Then there are the supposed solutions that warm some hearts – savings plans with tax credits etc. It strikes all the right chords, people pay for their own medical, they have to take responsibility (and the tax payers don’t), the missed taxes from the credits are more efficient than a government plan (because “everyone knows” private savings and investment is better than government spending). The problem with this approach is that it ignores several fairly obvious facts.

The first and most critical is that the median income in the US is about $32,000 per person or about $61,000 per household (median household is just under 2 people). At that level of income after necessities (let alone putting something away for retirement) there would not be much left over for a health savings account. But even if the household could put $6,000 a year aside for health care savings (almost 10% of their pretax income) it certainly wouldn’t reach the levels needed for even a short trip to a hospital for many, many years, especially when it would also have to pay for doctor visits and prescriptions. And let’s recall what the word “median” means. That’s the income where half of the people are below and half are above. If the ‘half level’ isn’t enough it should go without saying that those below it have it even worse.

The second fact it ignores is that pricing for everything from doctor and hospital visits to drugs at the pharmacy is a rigged game. There is hardly any other word for it. Outrageous prices are established for those with no insurance and heavy discounts are provided to various insurance companies’ insureds. It isn’t a “free market” economy it is a set of nested vested interests. But even if the pricing were fair and uniform, no savings/tax credit plan will provide anywhere near enough money when needed to pay for medical expenses. And let’s look at this: the 2 person household with $64,000 in income will pay $4,367 in income taxes for 2019. They will still have to pay Social Security taxes and state and local taxes. Their total federal income tax liability is less than the “credit” they are supposed to get from putting aside money for medical expenses. In short, this so called solution is a “feel good/feel right” answer only for those making 6 figures or more and who can put $10,000 or more into such an account each year even with regulated prices.

Recent information from the industry says that in 2017 the average cost for family coverage under group plans (those large employers provide their employees) was about $20,000 a year. Even if the average family covered consists of three people that’s almost $7,000 a year per person ($10,500 with a median size of 1.9, as in the above example). Clearly outside the reach of a significant number of people, unless subsidized by someone like an employer or the government.

Those who have been fortunate enough to always be covered by employer provided benefits have no idea what the costs of health care are, or the costs of trying to find health insurance on their own. To these people it is easy to imagine that some minor belt tightening in the budget should be enough to take care of medical expenses.

If we are honest about our “free market” system we will have to conclude that in the case of health care it works more to prevent competition and improvement in any way that benefits the consumer of health services. It is a case of where the profit motive (with its inherently short term outlook) is at odds with fair and reasonable behavior.

When looking for the problem the insurance companies are good place to start because they are selling a “fictitious” product. It’s not an apple, or a car, or anything you can hold or examine, it isn’t even like a share of stock in a company which at least entitles you to a share’s worth of vote at a stockholder’s meeting, and some share of the profits. The health insurance companies’ product is “coverage”, a promise to pay for some medical expenses in exchange for your premiums. However, there are huge gray areas in that promise, which they get to interpret. Part of this is unavoidable – no contract could possibly list every possible outcome. Yet, buried within phrases like “reasonable and customary” and “standard medical practices” are the “loop holes” that allow the insurance companies to essentially tell you what the product you bought, “coverage”, actually means. It’s a little as if you bought an apple, but then seller got to decide what sort and what quality of apple you got. Or maybe you bought a car, but only got to determine that it was one of the following: luxury, SUV, full size, compact, or economy. The brand and the model as well as how often you got to use it, would all be at the discretion of the seller.

Now it is true that most of the income and profits for health insurance companies come from group plans and that their cost to the employer is essentially claims paid plus administrative expenses. Most of these administrative expenses are a fixed fee plus a percent of the claims paid. So some people would argue that they make more money when more claims are paid, and so they couldn’t possibly be a problem in restricting health care.

Let’s clear this up right now. It is obvious in the case of private insurance that they would prefer to sell their “coverage” to people who will never use it or at the most use it sparingly. In the case of group employer plans there is a similar dynamic going on. Their fees for administering the plan, which easily include plenty of profit, are a relatively small percentage of the total cost to the employer, because that total cost includes claims paid. Likewise, in competing for the group business their best selling point to the employer is that they will hold claims down to a ‘reasonable’ amount.

They talk in terms of fraud detection and prevention, and in terms of “reasonable and customary” costs and treatment periods, as if all doctors were out to bilk the insurance companies of money for unnecessary treatments. Thus the competition between the carriers has become one of who can hold down claims paid, and not about the relative fees for administering the plan – which is where all of the profits of the insurance company come from.

Attempting to remove coverage for pre-existing conditions is a very subtle piece of power play. Clearly it lowers claims paid for the insurance company and in the case of their group plans it is beneficial to the employer as well. But there is another more subtle benefit to the employer. Companies have always wanted the upper hand over their employees. Given that anyone who lives long enough is likely to have some sort of medical condition, the ability to refuse coverage for such a pre-existing condition leaves the employee essentially at the employer he had when it occurred. Now, no matter how uncompetitively they’re paid, no matter how unfairly they’re treated, they dare not seek new employment or their health condition will not be covered. Now they are at the mercy of their current employer, who knows that they can’t afford to quit but still can be let go at a time of the company’s choosing because of “employment at will”, still the law in most states.

Although not directly an issue in the universal healthcare debate, the cost of drugs does play into the insurance companies’ projection of costs. And that brings us to “big pharma”. No reasonable person wants to stifle the innovation that has brought us so many helpful drugs. However, the idea that businesses unfettered by regulation can do no wrong has allowed things to get more than a little out of hand. It is that profit motive which can deliver us good or ill depending on how it is allowed to be used. It should take no leap of imagination to see that for a drug company marketing treatments is much, much more profitable than cures. Treatments need to be continuously purchased, where a cure is a one only sale. Drug companies will tell us about the enormous research and testing costs just to bring a single drug to the market, and to a point that is true. Except that decades of “pro-business/anti-regulation” sentiment have allowed these companies to lower those regulatory costs quite a bit, often having the regulators take the company’s word for the results of safety tests. Then there is what can only be called an abuse of the patent laws that was intended to allow them to recoup their investments in a new drug.

Follow along closely here, because this could be a tiny bit technical. Let’s say there is a whole class of drugs that you can see developing, but all of them would have this one new process in common. So you keep that process secret or maybe you patent it, and then patent one of the drugs you want to market. Now you charge whatever you want for this new drug and just before its patent runs out you tweak the basic process and create a virtually identical drug but one which has its own patent period, and you start the process over again. There may be dozens of variations on the original drug, into which all of the research and testing money was poured. But now add to this a business friendly regulatory environment that allows the testing and safety trials from the original drug to be used for the newer variation and like magic, you’ve used the same research and development dollars as an excuse to recoup them many times through this family of drugs. The only ethics in which this is not repugnant is one that says profit, no matter how made, is good and justifies all. And there is still that matter of cures not being pursued as ardently as treatments.

But wait! There’s more! (As the TV ads always claim.) I’ll bet you didn’t know that a lot of basic research is performed by the government and non-profit organizations, hoping to shed light on diseases like cancer etc. in the hopes of finding a cure. This research is freely available to others, like the drug companies. So a portion of the research dollars they claim they need to recoup with higher drug prices came from donations and taxes already paid by others.

On a moral spectrum this puts the drug companies only slightly better than insurance companies, and only because they at least produce a real product.

The arguments against universal health coverage boil down to two inaccurate characterizations. The first attempts to exploit fears that health care won’t be available, either through rationing or though untimely or otherwise unavailability of services. Such fear mongering ignores the very real fact that such is happening right now, but no one seems to care since it is primarily happening to those below the middle of our socio-economic ladder. In other words, as long as you can buy yourself a place near the front of the line, all is good and right with the world. BTW these stories were built upon bad experiences from decades ago with other countries’ initial experiments (like Britain) – they in no way represent what is happening in most of the developed world, or what must necessarily happen with universal health care.

The second argument against complete coverage is that those who don’t take care of their health (or other responsibilities) will be paid for by “the rest of us” (“the good people”). Of course that again is both a myth and a contradiction. First there is no factual basis to believe that there is a significant segment of the population “deliberately” not taking care of themselves just so others can pay for it, and secondly, who actually decides what that is? Smoking is a health risk, and education and restrictions on where it can be done has reduced it significantly. But as far as risk goes, barbecued red meat isn’t a lot better, and the virtually nationwide addiction to salty, fatty snacks is at least as big a health risk as smoking by itself. But we don’t regulate that largely because there is no “second hand” risk as there is with smoking. But those who are so sure that they will be paying for those who are irresponsible with their health ignore this because it is a “personal choice”.

So we are back to the fear that someone, somewhere is “getting away with something”, while imagining that “we” (“the good people”) will never be in that situation. Hopefully the most reasonable among us can see that this is completely unrealistic and born of a naïve belief that only bad things happen to bad people.

I spent my education divided between the sciences and literature. From the literature side I discovered that this idea that “bad things only happen to bad people” has been around for several thousand years. It is demonstrably not true, by even the most casual examination, yet it has a strong hold on people’s beliefs, largely because it makes them feel safe. And if I’ve learned anything from association with people who feel this way, it’s that they like to feel safe (and often even “better than” others). Of course what they don’t say out loud, even to themselves, is that underneath all of that is a fear. Fear that their “goodness” isn’t enough to protect them, maybe even that their goodness has nothing to do with what happens and that they’ve been denying and limiting themselves for no good reason all this time; while those they think of as “bad” are getting all of the things they wanted without having to pay the same dues. Thus they really like the idea of making those “bad” people pay.

From the sciences side, I learned that to get to the truth, all of the facts had to be examined, and that “double blind” experiments were needed to help us overcome our natural emotional biases, so that we could see what really is, and not what we want to see, what we are “sure” the answer should be.

Whether it is healthcare or even basic welfare, I puzzle over this obsessive concern with the “undeserving” getting something. I certainly agree that there is an element (though I think it a small percentage) of the population that would happily let the rest of us take care of them for their whole lives. And I am happy to support measures to legitimately limit fraud and other misuses of these programs. At the same time, I can’t endorse the idea that it is better to help no one, than to risk helping someone who could and should be doing more for themselves. And yet this is exactly what most of the opposition to proposals for some form of universal healthcare boil down to.

I understand that for the majority of human beings’ existence nothing was guaranteed and life was hard and survival certainly went to the strongest, and often even to the most ruthless and vicious. But it doesn’t have to be that way any longer. We have progressed and we can do better for all of us. If you just want a practical, science based reason, how about this: in a world where travel and transport of goods has put the far flung reaches of humanity close to the most densely populated, can we really afford to just let people die of disease and other ill health? Isn’t there a huge risk to us all in that? When a disease can start in some remote place then spread all over the planet in weeks or months isn’t it a little foolish to believe that we don’t have to worry about folks being ill on the “other side of the tracks”?

Let’s return to the issue of the “free market” and the pricing of insurance coverage. In the lore of the free market, competition is supposed to keep prices from becoming outrageous, or at least as low as they can be given supply and demand. For example, if the demand for something like soy beans increases suddenly, the price will go up, but that higher price will lead to an increase in the supply of soy beans as more people plant them to cash in on the higher prices, and the price will fall again. Exceptions to this pretty picture occur when the supply cannot be increased easily or quickly. But coverage is a fictitious product, it can easily be increased, all that is required is to “print” more ID cards. So why doesn’t competition work in the health insurance business?

All insurance is based on the idea that we collect money (premiums) from a group of people and that only a portion of the group will need money back to pay for the risk we are covering. Let’s say the chances of your house being hit by a tornado this year is 1 out of 50,000. Now let’s suppose that repair of the damage if you are hit is going to cost $250,000. So if I have a group of 50,000 people, all with the same risk of being hit by a tornado, and all with a similar replacement need if they are hit, then if I collect $5 a year from each of these 50,000 people I’ll have enough to pay for the one person likely to need replacement. Of course it can get more complicated; we are only talking about insuring against one risk (a tornado), and if we get lucky and no one is hit how much should we hold over to next year in case two people get hit (since these are just averages and estimates), and of course how much do we keep for profit and for administering this plan.

When it comes to health insurance we come face to face with the idea that the risks may not be equal, and this is where the idea that somehow we should all be personally responsible gets involved. All other things being equal, older people are going to have more health problems as a rule than young adults. Children are going to have more health issues than young adults. Then there are the those with “unequal” risk – people who smoke, vape or do illegal drugs, clearly have higher risk of health issues. As we mentioned before, there are other risk factors we don’t seem to care about as much, even though they are just as risky. If we can get past the idea that everyone else is out there just waiting to cheat the system we might be able to examine this in a more rational manner.

So let’s focus first on the unavoidable and more or less inevitable facts of life risk. In this example no one is doing anything that would reasonably impact their health negatively. Over the course of a whole life, we all might expect to experience the same pattern of health expenses, high in childhood (typically NOT during our parent’s peak earning years), lower when young to middle-age adults without children, and then high again when we reach our senior years, where again we might more likely find ourselves with only retirement income. This pattern alone should suggest a rate that is supportable over the whole of a life is the most appropriate. But remember, we’re talking “free enterprise” and price competition, so here’s one of the ways that works out. I offer coverage at low rates hoping to attract those lucrative childless adults who pay their premiums and almost never have claims. To ensure I’m not picking up any potential claims expenses I either rate up or refuse coverage to people with pre-existing conditions. Next year when it is time to renew, the good rates only continue to the people who haven’t had any claims, and higher rates apply to others. In this way, I am continually cultivating a core group with low claims and therefore high profit to me, while collecting more from those whom I might have to pay out claims. Now what is especially pernicious about this, is how free enterprise competition doesn’t work. If I, as an honorable insurance carrier, wanted to use “over the whole life” rating my rate would be higher for the childless young adults and lower for the children and seniors. I won’t attract any of the high profit childless young adults and all of the high claims expense families with children and seniors. This won’t work because as a company/group we need to collect at least as much in premiums as we are going to pay out. Only regulation prohibiting certain rating practices can keep this on a level playing field where everyone has an opportunity; where the competition is really about service and efficiency reflected in rates, not just a way to put all the “bad risks” in a pool to pay more.

Since we are still talking about a scenario where no one is taking unreasonable risks to harm their health, and we’re appealing to a conservative point of view, perhaps we should point out that “traditionally” this is how humans have organized their societies; where the able bodied young adults carried extra burden for the children and the old – for the children because they are our future and for the old because their experience and knowledge are valuable and because of their past contributions.

Now to the issue of choices that may increase risk. Surely a certain amount of rating up for behaviors can be supported, against the overall whole life rating. But going too far in this direction merely becomes the sort of intrusive “micro-management” most of us, conservative or liberal, would like to avoid. Once we get past this “blame game” of presuming everyone else is out to get a free ride, the priorities can be put in proper perspective.

One of those perspectives was mentioned earlier in this article; there is a risk to us all for simply letting others die “in the streets” because of their neglect of health issues. Add to this the fact that waiting until these health issues are acute, i.e. serious enough to get you into an emergency room, is more expensive than preventative care, and we have a case for saying that we need a simple rating scheme that takes into account your whole life, and that we may need to subsidize the rate for those with incomes below a certain level. As for the well-off paying “more”; those with more, have more to lose when disease brings down most of the society and the people whose efforts make their lifestyle possible.

The next issue of choice masquerades as religious freedom. “Why should I have to pay for someone’s abortion when I believe it is wrong?” “Why should I have to pay for: birth control, blood transfusions, vaccinations etc.” There is a rather elegant answer to these questions.

The very same conservative forces who want to raise these questions and issues now have already done so, in another form. They were quite persuasive during the Viet Nam war that religious objections to war did not mean you could avoid paying your part of taxes that went to the Department of Defense. Legally the argument is something along the lines of the representative form of government already allowed your input to the decision. And your personal religious objection allows you to perform alternate service, as opposed to killing.

Now, once again, some people have confused religious freedom with the freedom to impose their personal moral views on others. Or perhaps they have confused intolerance of others who believe differently with a measure of their sincerity of belief. Since most of these groups like to identify themselves as Christian, I’d like to ask just how much of their judgmental positions come from the New Testament versus the Old? I’d like to spur them to give some serious thought to how to reconcile their view points with statements like: “love your enemies”, “let he who is without sin cast the first stone”.

But I know that is pointless, those questions will not be raised by the followers of the religious right. They won’t come up because despite all the rhetoric, this isn’t really about religion or spirituality – it’s about following charismatic leaders, who tell their followers what to believe by playing to their fears and sugar coating their memories of the past, as if it were somehow near perfect.

The last element of choice really depends on the exact nature of the plan adopted, but the one choice that shouldn’t be allowed is to opt out completely. Here again a certain level of inconsistency in the opposition shows up. The main opposition to mandatory coverage comes from the same folks who are usually afraid that someone is “getting a free ride”. Yet, those without medical coverage (whether because they can’t afford it, or because they don’t think they’ll get sick) will not get treatment for conditions until it is serious. Then they will go to county hospitals where emergency treatment will be more costly to taxpayers in the long run. Or maybe their idea is to let them die without treatment at all? But then, that’s a good way to ensure the spread of epidemics. The reason everyone must participate is to spread the risk, and the cost over the largest possible group so as to keep the costs reasonable. It is also the best way to protect everyone.

While this represents a change from the “way things were”, it is in line with other aspects for the general good. Public schools are funded by taxes you pay whether or not you have children who will be in school, because we are in an age when education is not a luxury, and an ignorant citizenry is as much a threat to liberty as an unchecked tyrant.

While it is a different issue all its own, it seems only fair to mention that the opioid crisis is not entirely the fault of big pharma and super addictive drugs. The health insurance companies have certainly played their part. I personally know of a case where in order to avoid, or at least delay, the payment for a needed back surgery, the insurance company continued to request more review and information, even after their own prior approvals of the surgery. This went on for a year with the patient taking ever stronger doses of opioid pain medication. When the surgery was finally done, weaning off the opioids was extremely difficult.

The purpose of the above anecdote is to point out that the free enterprise method of dealing with this fictional product called “coverage” is more like a game of “hot potato” than it is anything resembling competition for the best quality and service.

Here are the basic features I think universal coverage should have:

· Everyone is covered,

· Individuals can pick their own doctors (because all doctors participate),

· Coverage does not contain exceptions for “pre-existing conditions” or excluded services to appease various religious groups,

· Premiums are set considering all ages, races and genders together,

o Some lifestyle choices (e.g. smoking) might be rated up in premium,

o Low and no income people would have little or no premium to pay out of their own pocket.

o How much of the overall premium is paid by individuals and how much out of general revenue of the government is an issue to be determined with other specifics.

Now the big question is who provides and administers this insurance; the government or the private insurers? To be honest I have concerns about both. Large government programs can become inefficient. I don’t believe that is inevitable, but it does happen. As a pragmatist, I also know that such a proposal would fire up opposition without even bothering to examine the pros and cons.

On the other hand, I have an even harder time with the profit motivated businesses having control over this. They still have the motivation to hold claims down through every available means, as they do now; letting delaying tactics masquerade as vigilance against fraud or abuse.

If all of the private insurance companies had to have the same rates for the same situations then larger insurers have an advantage, since they would have a mix of insureds more nearly representative of the national demographics that were the source of the rating. A small insurer could have a windfall or a crisis depending on whether or not their group of insured had more or less claims than the national average.

If everyone had to use the same rating methods for premiums, but were allowed to go above or below the “national standard”, then the illusion of competition would exist, but because the product is this fuzzy thing called “coverage” there is little to no way for the consumer to evaluate it. The biggest factor determining the insurance companies’ rates and profits would still be claims paid versus premiums collected and the easiest way a company can positively influence those numbers is by lowering claims paid. (In today’s world they also get to do it by denying coverage to those they believe will have high claims.)

Based on the above, perhaps a standard rate for all private insurers, with reimbursement from the government if claims paid exceed premiums collected. This would be covered by taxes on insurance company windfalls when premiums collected go too far above claims paid. This is only a starting point for ideas on how to make this work with private insurers. Unfortunately the debate never gets down to these issues; it stalls around the generalities and clichés the sides have locked into.

While attempting to get to some sort of plan, let’s please keep in mind that the profit motive is at best a two edged sword; it does not encourage only the best behaviors. While it can produce better quality goods and services at better prices, in some cases it can do just the opposite. Recall that greed was designated as one of the “seven deadly sins” and the phrase “love of money is the root of all evil” is not entirely wrong.

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arabeyacairo-blog · 5 years

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Food, fun, transportation- oh my!

How much do things cost in Cairo? How much do I need to bring for a month in Egypt in 2019?

Here we outline some expenses for each a frugal, moderate or unrestricted budget to give you a sense of your spending options and general costs in Cairo.

To note, the value of the Egyptian pound and corresponding exchange rates have changed a lot in the last few years. For reference, this article was written in April 2019 and the exchange rate is currently about 1 USD = 17.5 EGP

.How much should I budget for a month in Egypt in 2019?

In general, we recommend students budget between $300-$500 USD per month for life in Cairo. It is also possible to live on $200/month for those who budget well.

Like any place, there is a huge difference in how the frugal and luxurious live in Cairo, and students studying Arabic will have budgets that vary greatly depending on how they eat, get around and spend their time.

Since cost of living in Egypt is cheaper than cost of living in most of the home country of our students, many Arabic students take advantage of the cheap prices to buy and do things that they would not splurge on at home- such as taxis and always eating out.

Here we outline expenses for people who are living on different budgets in the school accommodations.

How can I live cheaply in Egypt?

The students who live the most cheaply in Cairo are the ones who take public transportation, cook for themselves, and have exceptional bargaining skills.

Therefore as your Arabic improves and you become more comfortable in Egypt, you will find it easier to live a cheaper lifestyle.

One key to saving money in Cairo is that you have to think in Egyptian pounds. It is easy to convert the prices in your head and say to yourself, "Okay, this taxi ride is only $3.50, that's not bad" but that $3.50 is 60 LE which could buy you 20 metro tickets.

The cheapest way to live in Cairo is to follow the example of thrifty locals. Personally, I make a combination of the most cheapest options, middle options, and then splurge for some things when I'm feeling homesick.

I take public transportation and the metro everywhere I can, but I call an Uber at night or when I'm feeling tired, and I treat myself to a bowl of pasta every once in a while.

How much does food cost in Cairo?

Part of the joy of living in Cairo is the amazing food options. From Egyptian street food, to home-cooked meals, you should try to try a little bit of everything while you're here. There are food options to fit different student budgets and you can live very cheaply or also find imported foods that you might be missing.

For students who like to cook, students say they spend around 450-750 LE (around $25-$45 USD) on groceries for a week, depending on where they shop and how much they cook. Local vegetable stands are the cheapest places around to get what you need and there are also upscale supermarkets around the city.

For eating out or ordering in, here are some outlines of different food options and their prices to give you an idea of how much you might spend while here:

Foul and tamiyya sandwiches from a street cart: 3 LE

A medium-sized bowl of koshary: 20 LE

Fresh juice from a local stand: 20 LE

Shawarma sandwiches from Shabrawy: 25-30 LE

A coffee in a cafe downtown: 30 LE

Lamb shish kebab from the corner kebab store: 60 LE

Biriyani and chicken tikka in an Indian restaurant in Zamalek: 90 LE

A medium-sized pizza ordered in from Pizza Hut: 100 LE

A bowl of pasta in Zamalek: 120 LE

Again, the average student eats from a combination of the cheapest street foods to the nicer international restaurants. In the beginning, as your body adjusts to the environment and food, it can be better to spend more on slightly nicer foods to avoid an upset stomach.

Bon appétit!

How much are transportation costs in Cairo?

Learning to get around Cairo is an adventure in itself!

As a metropolis of over 20 million people, Cairo holds an endless sea of buses, cars and scooters moving from place to place. You'll have fun learning the microbus signs, reading the Cairo metro map, and exploring different neighborhoods and the different routes to get there.

Staring out the window of the bus is a great time to practice your Arabic reading skills as you pass by signs and advertisements ready to be read.

The cheapest options for getting around are buses, microbuses and the metro. Microbuses and buses take some time to get used to as you need to learn the routes and the layout of the city. The metro is fairly simple to use and takes you to most of the different places you would need to go- but it doesn't extend everywhere in the city yet.

The most comfortable options are Uber and Careem (Uber's local counterpart), and there is the option to call a normal car, a scooter/motobike, or sometimes a tuk-tuk. The apps can be connected to your card for convenience or you can pay in cash.

Here are some outlined transportation costs to give you an idea of how much to bring with you for a month in Cairo:

Buses: 2.5- 3 LE

Microbuses: 2.5- 3 LE

Metro: 3-7 LE per ticket, depending on how many stations you go.

Uber scooter: average 10-45 LE, depending on how far you go

Tuk-Tuk: average 10-30 LE, for short rides along back streets

Uber or Careem: average 15-125 LE, depending on how far you go

Biking: Around 1000LE to buy a bike here and then you can try to re-sell it as you leave. Cairo is not a very bike-friendly city but it is becoming more popular in recent years as a way to weave through traffic and be more eco-friendly. We recommend checking out groups like Project Pink or Cairo Cycling Geckos if students are interested in cycling.

Walking: Free! The school and accommodations are walking distance from each other so that you can save time and money with no commute. Make sure to take some long walks across the bridges over the Nile before you leave.

Personally, we recommend taking a combination of both depending on your budget, Arabic ability and comfort level.

Try out public transport options in Cairo and see if it is something you are comfortable with, and try to explore the different routes and transportation options to get where you need to go.

How much do fun things cost in Cairo?

A budget is not complete without money set aside for having fun!

There are plenty of cafes, museums, concerts and trips to take during your time in Egypt, depending on your lifestyle and travel plans and this might end up being your biggest cost. Make sure to set aside money to travel to different cities on the weekends, pick up some souvenirs for people back home, and to get involved in different activities after class.

Here are some outlined prices of some things that students like to do in their free time:

Enjoying two coffees in an outdoor qahwa with a game of backgammon: 60 LE

Entrance into a sporting club or "nady" to exercise or hang out: 25 LE

Listening to a traditional concert at Sad El Sawy Culture Wheel in Zamalek: 60-80 LE

An afternoon in the Islamic Art Museum: 120 LE

Entrance into historical sites: 60-200 LE

Buses to different cities within Egypt: 85-350 LE

A night in a hostel in different cities in Egypt: 150-250 LE

How much can you buy with $10 in Egypt?

Students coming from the US or EU will generally find life in Egypt quite cheap and will be able to live comfortably for much cheaper than their home cities.

Currently $10 USD is about 200 LE.

200LE in Egypt can be enough for your daily expenses for 2-3 days, or it can be enough for one fancy meal in a restaurant or one alcohol beverage. So how much you spend depends on how you live your life here.

If you really want to save money- you have to think in Egyptian pounds and not in dollars or euros. You can take a taxi ride for 40-50LE and say that that is not much because it is only $3, but there might be an option of public transport for 3LE.

How to live comfortable in Cairo for less than $10/day?

If you want $10 to go the farthest in Egypt, while still having fun, you could live your life like this:

Walk to school!

Eat breakfast at Shrabrawy (a foul sandwich and a fried egg sandwich): 6 LE

Buy a bottle of water and snacks at the khushk (kiosk or corner store): 20 LE

Make coffee or tea at the school: 0 LE

Buy vegetables, rice and cook lunch after school: 30 LE

Take public transport to downtown and hang out in a cafe: 6 LE for the microbus there and back, 30 LE for a coffee, and 30 LE for your friend's coffee. (Treat them- as it's the Egyptian way!)

Get dinner of bowl of koshary or shawarma sandwich: 25 LE

Go to see a movie to practice your Arabic listening skills: 40 LE for a ticket (depends on the place)

Buy popcorn at the movies: 10LE

You have 3LE left to buy a chocolate or save for tomorrow!

Save your pennies and come to Cairo- we're looking forward to seeing you soon :)

#budget #cairo #egypt #egyptian #summer #arabic language #arab #arabic #course #courses #how to make it

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seajellyfishie · 5 years

Text

Closer *Naruto Fanfiction*

Chapter 2: Information Broker

~Shoko Utsunomiya's Pov~

I entered a dango shop around 8:30 in the morning before heading over and getting Takeshi. I walked the streets of Konoha heading towards Takeshi's house. I was going to make a pit stop before heading over to his place. I wanted dango and I figured that he'd want some as well. I stopped in front of the shop and looked at the different signs of each dango. The redhead that worked there skipped out of the back and placed a new batch of what I assumed of pink dango out in the front. She glanced over at me and brightened considerably.

"Hey Sho! What's up? You're here pretty early, you gotta job you're doing?" Hami asked walked over behind the cash register and grabbing a small bag for me.

"Yeah, I've become an assistant teacher so I'll be heading over to get Takeshi and then heading to the training grounds. You got any thermoses today?" I asked kneeling down to look at the bottles that she makes and fills with tea to sell.

"You know I do! I've also tried to make a grape dango, it's a lavender color, you wanna try." I sprang up, my eyes most likely sparkling.

"Of course!" The girl giggled and I watched as her grey body left my sight. Picking up one of the sticks of green tea dango and looked down at it. It was supposedly green like the trees, grass, and Gai's jumpsuit. Of course, I wouldn't know but I guess I just have to trust it. I was snapped out of my depressing thoughts when Hami came bounding out from the back and shoved a light grey dango in my face. I let out a short laugh before grabbing the stick and ate the first ball. I felt like falling to the ground from how amazing this tasted.

"This is freaking outstanding, Hami you are the goddess of dango." The girl giggled and smiled at me.

"Want it in the bag with your usual?" I frantically nodded. Laughing once more she placed three grape dango in the baggy that she'd been holding on to. The same number of green tea, vanilla, and strawberry dango. I dug through my bag and pulled out two thermoses. Setting the on the counter along with 50 Ryo, I grabbed the baggy from her as she took the thermoses.

"I'll take my regular Ginger Peach Tea in the white one and Earl Grey Tea in the black one," I said, nodding she dipped back into the back. Looking back up at the sun, I'd say it'd be about 8:50. She came back out and handed the two thermoses to me with a smile and grabbed the money. I was about to walk away when keychains caught my eye. I picked the two of them up and simply stared at them. Hami's hand came into my vision and pointed at each small mochi.

"The top one light pink, the second is light blue, the last is white, and the one that's dangling is purple. You can have them for free if you'd like." Her soft voice felt like it penetrated my soul. I wish I knew what colors looked like. I would love to understand the marvel of a sunrise or sunset. I couldn't marvel at a rainbow, or at Hami's supposedly bright red hair and honestly, I may never get that chance. Shaking my head, I clipped one of them to my bookbag and smiled at it.

"Thanks, I'm sure Takeshi will love it. I like myself, even though I can't see it." She gave me a soft smile and nodded.

"Of course, only for you Shoko. Now, get going before you're late!" I snorted slightly and shook my head.

"The teacher is Kakashi Hatake and he's probably not even there yet, so I think I'll be fine." She stared before running a hand down her face and waving me off. Laughing I walked away and headed to Takeshi's apartment which was on the way to the training grounds.

~At Takeshi's Apartment, The Back Room, 8:50 AM~

~Takeshi Uchiha's Pov~

I sat in my piano room, looking out the two windows that were in place instead of walls. I could see the whole forest past the city. When it rained Itachi and I would end up in here during the nights so we could sleep. Turning the mahogany instrument, I ran my fingers across the keys and smiled. Closing my eyes I started pressing the keys and turning them into an old song I used to play for my mother.

Whenever she felt like she was trapped she asked me to play this for her. It wasn't the best and I've perfected it since then, but even if there were wrong notes or I was off beat she said that it always reminded her of adventure. It reminded her of what traveling to different villages was like and how their culture was much more different than ours. She told me that I should never let anyone chain me down, whether village, family, or friends. Itachi would always agree to her logic but would say that I shouldn't completely sever my ties with those things. I should grow bonds between them and when out on adventures make new friends. Those two were the wisest people I knew. They had a true love for everyone and didn't let anyone contort their views or conform to society. I finished the song and watched as water droplets splashed onto my hand. Smiling, I allowed myself to cry a bit and let my heart soften for once.

I missed them so much. I miss Itachi, I miss mom, but I miss Sasuke the most. He's here with me and I can't even reach him. I can't reach my own twin. We were supposed to be there for each other no matter what and now he can't even look at me without hatred. Letting out a painful sob, I placed my hands on the piano to keep myself up from crumbling into a ball then and there. I shouldn't be this depressed so early in the morning, but then again my emotions never listen to me. I finally composed myself and wiped away the remaining tears on my face. I took in a deep breath and stood from my seat. Stepping back into my living room, I heard the door unlock and watched with caution. Shoko stepped through with his normal chakra signal and all.

I relaxed and smiled at the male who held up a small baggy. Chuckling I watched as he dumped his stuff on my kitchen table.

"So what's in the bag?" I asked about to grab the small baggy. He slapped my hand and gave me a stern look.

"Don't touch." He commanded. I whined a bit before yawning. I waddled back over to the couch and collapsed on it. Itachi walked out of my bedroom and trotted over to the living room to watch Shoko as usual.

The white-haired male grabbed two plates from my cabinet and set them on the table. He grabbed the baggy and pulled out some dango. He placed four on mine since I wasn't a huge fan of sweet things. He placed a black thermos next to my plate and unloaded everything else onto his.

"Alright, now you can eat." He stated. Rolling my eyes, I stood up and walked over letting my body drop into the seat. I watched as Shoko pulled out a white thermos and poured some of his tea into the cap.

"Shouldn't we be at the training grounds by now?" Shoko shook his head.

"There's no reason to be, Kakashi would be there until like ten." He said with a shake of his head. He grabbed on the dango sticks and managed to get all of the mochi in his mouth at once. I laughed and took the strawberry dango and at it first. Shoko let out some noise of remembrance that's honestly too hard to describe so I watched as he sifted through the small pocket on his bag before he pulled out a keychain and handed it to me. I looked at it and let out a snicker.

"This is so like you Shoko, thanks I love it." I looked up at the guy with a soft expression. He blushed and smiled at me.

"I'm glad you do!" For the rest of the time, we ate in silence, with Itachi meowing every once and a while for a piece. I finished my dango first and was sipping my Earl Grey tea in our comfortable silence. Shoko was on his last one and the tea he was drinking was basically finished. It was nice to sit here like an old married couple who didn't need to exchange words to make the atmosphere around them nice. Once he was finished, I grabbed my bag putting all of my leather-bound books in there along with a few scrolls before heading out with my best friend.

~At The Training Grounds, 9:10 AM~

We arrived at the training grounds and saw Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke sitting down all of them close to dozing off. Naruto and Sakura noticed Shoko and me and jumped up in anger.

"You're late!" Shoko shrugged and set his stuff on the ground next to the gate.

"Well, Kakashi won't be here until like ten so I would just suggest that you rest those pretty little eyes of yours!" Shoko said with a devious tone. The three didn't notice but complied with Shoko's wishes anyway. Takeshi sets his stuff down next to Sasuke and headed over to the open area with the three standing poles. I sat in front of the lake and smiled at it. I dipped my hands in it and swirled it around my hands. I thought for a bit before taking my hand out. Stretching I laid back and turned on my side resting my head on my hand. Closing my eyes I let my mind wander and my body relaxes as I slipped into a nice, light sleep. I was awoken by a tap on my shoulder, three screams, and laughing. I groaned in annoyance and glared up at a shinobi. Possibly chunin. I rose an eyebrow and sat up.

"I'm assuming you're here for info?" The shinobi nodded. I stood and dusted the sand off of my clothes. Walking over to where Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura were, I saw that they were completely drenched and my bag sitting across them, completely dry. Shoko was laughing his butt off at the three of them. They looked like shivering chihuahuas. Rolling my eyes, I knelt down and dug past the multiple other leatherbound books and found a red one. This one had all of the places that I've researched. Like the Wind Country, the Key Country, the Tea Country and so on.

"Alright, where are you going?" I asked looking up at the Chunin.

"I'm delivering something to the Kazekage. I haven't heard the best things about him, so what do you got?" He asked placing a hand on his hip. I snorted and started flipping through the worn pages.

"Yeah, the Kazekage isn't a saint." Stopping on a page that is supposed to have the information, I realized I grabbed the wrong book.

"Ah, sorry, grabbed the wrong book. That's about the layout of the land, the people one is...here." Pulling out a brown leather notebook I flipped to the exact page and started reading the information of the Kazekage out loud.

"Alright, well, the Kazekage is named Rasa. When the daimyo took money away from Suna and started using Konoha's less expensive services, the Kage felt threatened. He wanted to strengthen the line of shinobi so he ordered a woman name Chiyo to seal Shukaku, the One-Tailed Beast, into his youngest son, Garra, so he'd be the ultimate weapon of Suna. His wife died in the process of giving birth. He taught the kid ninjutsu ordered someone to look after him and ostracized him from his siblings who name are Temari and Kankuro. Sadly Rasa realized too late how bad of an idea this was as Garra's powers started to manifest. With the village being at an all-time low and the council deeming Garra useless to them, Rasa wanted to assassinate his younger son. All six attempts failed." Snapping the book closed I looked up to the disgusted Chunin.

"That good enough?" I asked looking up at the guy. He nodded, seemingly deep in thought before looking me in the eyes.

"Ok, so what do you want?" He asked.

"I want information on the youngest son. Even though I have some of the events of his life because of Rasa, I need more, if you can't get that, then you can pay me by 5000 Ryo. Fair?" The chunin nodded.

"Fair, thanks, kid." Nodding the man disappeared from my sight. I felt five pairs on me. I looked up connecting with Sasuke who looked confused and angry, Naruto who looked interested, Sakura who looked wary, Shoko looked excited it's hard to read him sometimes, and turning around I looked at Kakashi who stared at me with a hardened stare. Letting out an annoyed sigh, I placed both books back in my bag and stood, turning to Kakashi.

"Morning, Kakashi-sensei." The three other genins on my team snapped their attention towards the silverette.

"Hey guys, good morning!" Kakashi-sensei greeted giving them a closed eye smile.

"YOU'RE LATE!!!!" Sakura and Naruto shouted. Kakashi waved the two off and walked over to the three logs. Gesturing us over he set a clock on a stump and set it for noon. I grabbed my bag and jogged over standing next to Sasuke. Shoko stood next to Kakashi and held up three bells just like the older male beside him.

"Here are three bells your task is to take them from either me or Shoko before time's up." He explained. I tilted my head and looked at the bells closer. Shoko is the same age as us and even though he's a Jonin it doesn't mean that he's the strongest out of all of us. There has to be some sort of catch to this.

"Those who don't have a bell by noon get no lunch. I'll not only tie you to one of those stumps I'll eat in front of you too." Kakashi said tying the bells back to his pants. I heard the stomachs of my teammates grumble and snickered slightly. Glad I ate before Shoko got there along with his dango treats.

"You only have to get one bell there are only three, so one of you will definitely be tied to the stump! The person who doesn't take a bell will fail so one of you will definitely be heading back to the academy. If you want to you can use shuriken and kunai to come at us. You won't succeed unless you approach us with the intent to kill!" Shoko explained a large smile on his face. I gave him a skeptical look along with the bells that hung from his belt. There are six bells in all, but they kept saying the number three. If that's the case and there are only three true bells, then a set has to be a fake, and with the knowledge that Shoko is still technically on our level and that most of the team will go after him first then it would have to be Kakashi who has the real ones. I snapped out of my daze when Shoko disappeared from my site. Naruto was the only one left beside me and Kakashi was in front.

"Ah, right, we're taking a test," I muttered. Jumping away from the commencing battle, I settled in a tree and thought my plan over.

We're up against two Jonin, one genin could never take either one on alone even if the other is our age. This object of this is obviously teamwork. Now factoring in that one of the sets of bells is a fake then that means we can team up with Shoko to take Kakashi down, I'll need to find the others and try to convince them, but it'll most likely be a lost cause. Naruto will be more focused on working alone and trying to prove himself as he is right now, Sakura will only work if Sasuke is with me, and Sasuke hates me. Going to Shoko seems to be the only option I have right now. Jumping down from my tree, I searched the forest for my white-haired friend. Sensory isn't my forte but I've been with Shoko for so long that his chakra has become distinguishable. Coming into a clearing I saw Shoko lazing around in a tree branch.

"Sho-chan!" I called, the male jumped before looking down at me and smirked. He jumped down to the ground and got into a fighting stance. I waved my hand in dismissiveness.

"I already know the ones you have are fake, now, do you want to team up?" I asked. He blinked before laughing and walking over. He tossed an arm around my shoulder.

"You really are amazing Take-chan, alright, let's team up!" Nodding I gestured him to follow. Trotting after me we walked through the forest until Shoko stopped. I turned and looked at him questionably. Hearing the rustling of the leaves I quickly got out my kunai. A female chunin dropped from the trees and waved at the two of us. Raising an eyebrow and tilted my head.

"What do you want?" Shoko hissed out. The female raised her hands in surrender.

"Just here for some info on the Land of Tea." I sat down and dug through my bag and pulled out the red book from earlier.

"Well, it's a country south to the Land of Fire and consists of two islands. It is home to the Wasabi family and the Wagarashi family and is unknown if there are any shinobi. It is called the Tea Country or Land of Tea because of all the tea-houses that are there. Now, I do want to inform you to go as far southeast as you can without leaving the Fire Country because there is an Akatsuki hideout to the southwest near the Land of Rivers border." She nodded and let out a sigh.

"Thanks, kid, so what's your fee?" I thought for a bit before smirking and putting the book away.

"You good at using Fire Jutsu?" The girl looked at me in confusion before nodding.

"Yeah, I am, it's my affinity. Why?"

"You wanna help me pass my test?" The chunin blinked and then laughed. She placed a hand on her hip and smiled at me.

"Sure kid, what's the plan?"

~Later on, The Main Clearing, 11:50 PM~

~Author's Pov~

Kakashi was sitting in the middle of the clearing disappointed in his students. He was most disappointed in Takeshi cause he hadn't seen the kid the entire time and it was only 40 minutes until the test was complete. He shook his head and sighed pulling out his Icha Icha Paradise.

"Earth Release: Earth Dragon God Blast!" A masculine voice shouted. Kakashi's eyes widened as the ground rumbles. A large, bronze dragon head peeks out of the ground and roars to reveal its lengthy stone body. Then it dives back under, traveling to Kakashi through the ground. When it finally reaches him it shoots up in full dragon form and smashes into him with an enormous force, exploding on contact. The explosion causes the dragon's bronze body to move outward with immense force. Kakashi lets out a labored breath and looks around frantically. He feels a liquid on his foot and looks down in panic. It was an oily substance that had covered the ground

"Fire Release: Bed of Fire Technique!!" A feminine voice exclaimed. Infusing his feet with chakra he jumped off just as the flames ignited. Stumbling as he landed he looked around in confused panic. Shoko stepped out and smirked at the jonin.

"Earth Release: Sudden Earth Strike!" He shouted sending a finger gun Kakashi's way. The ground that was covered in fire rises in the form of a hand and rushes forward. The hand attacks Kakashi and the male dodges narrowly each time. Deciding that going back to the water would be the best idea to extinguish the flame and soften the ground. The hand soon crumbled as it entered the water. He watches with wide eyes, as an unknown female step out from the forest.

"Fire Release: Incinerating Hail Technique!" By focusing her chakra into her hands, she lifts them skyward and creates a salvo of small fireballs that will rain down all around them, incinerating anything they touch. Since the fireballs have no solid state, they can only do damage by burning things. These fireballs are about half the size of her closed fist. Kakashi dodged the fireballs landing on the water and rushed towards land seeing that not many of them were falling around Shoko and the unknown female.

"Water Chains Technique!!" Takeshi finally made himself known as he stepped out of the shrubbery as Kakashi placed his first foot on the sand. The chains launched from the water and wrapped themselves around his wrist neck and ankles. He fell to his knees as the chains pulled down on him harshly. He was barely able to roll over but managed to do so and looked up at the sky. Takeshi came over and stood over him, legs on each side of his waist. The young Uchiha settled himself on Kakashi's waist. Grabbing the silverette’s wrists he placed them over his head and when they were set in place the chains tightened once again. Taking the bells from Kakashi's belt he smirked down at him as he placed them in his pocket. Kakashi blushed as Takeshi leaned down towards his face.

"Ne, ne, Kakashi, why don't we reenact one of the scenes from your book yeah?" He questioned in a sultry voice his lips just a hair away from Kakashi's. The timer rang and Takeshi smirked. He got off of Kakashi and walked over to Shoko and thanked the girl for her help. The girl vanished and the two boys walked over to the stumps as Shoko handed Takeshi his bag. Kakashi looked over at the two and let out an amused sound before getting up and following. Takeshi took his seat in between Naruto and Sasuke. Shoko took his between Sakura and Naruto even though he wasn't a student.

"I see you're a bit tied up, huh, Naruto?" Shoko asked giving the blonde a Cheshire grin. Naruto started kicking his legs in anger.

"You're the one who put me here!!!!" Takeshi leaned closer to his brother to avoid the thrashing legs. When Sasuke scooted farther away from him it chipped away at his heart. Kakashi stopped in front of the KIA Stone and crossed his arms looking down at all of us.

"You guys look really hungry, oh, and by the way something about the training. Well, there's no need for you guys to go back to the academy. Takeshi had a smile on his face and hi-fived Shoko who gave him a reassuring thumbs-up. The other three were also celebrating at the news.

"Yup, all three of you...should quit as shinobi!!" Takeshi froze before realizing something and sending the older male a questioning look.

"Wait, 'three?'" He asked. Kakashi nodded.

"Yes, Takeshi you were the only one to pass. It may not have been with your actual team but you understood the lesson and proved to have an amazing mind for coming up with a plan." The older Uchiha a blushed and turned away from everyone to avoid any more embarrassment.

"Quit as ninjas what does that mean?! Also, why was Takeshi the only one to pass?!? We couldn't get the bells but why do we have to quit?!" Naruto shouted almost busting my eardrums. Kakashi gave them a blank look.

"Because all of you are just punks who don't deserve to be ninjas."

~Takeshi Uchiha's Pov~

My eyes widened as Sasuke lunged forward. I moved quickly and wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him back. He looked back at me in fury and swiped his kunai at my face to get away from me. I was lucky to dodge and only get a small scratch on my cheek. I snatched his wrist and turned his body around. He was straddling my waist and that allowed me to pin him to the ground and hold his hands above his head. I was putting all my focus into keeping him down since I'm not the strongest but it wasn't that hard since his legs were pinned around my waist as well. I grunted as he thrashed against me.

"Get off of me you waste of space!" Ok, that hurt. I glared down at him and held him tighter to the ground lowering my head next to his.

"No," I growled. Kakashi stepped forward and scoffed. Our attention was turned back to him. I lifted my head from the ground and felt the blood drip off my cheek.

"That's why you're a punk." He said looking down at Sasuke.

"Get off of Sasuke-kun!!" Sakura shouted at me. I closed my eyes and blocked her out. I know Kakashi was one to send kids back to the academy in a heartbeat and that's what terrified me. My eyes snapped open in shock Sasuke's glare being brought back to me. I launched myself off of him and stood my ground in front of the silverette. Kakashi looked down at me with a questioning look. I shoved the three bells into his chest and glared up at him.

"There!! Now they can't go back to the academy! There's a bell for each one! You already passed me so we're going together as a team!!" I demanded, Kakashi glared down at me.

"It's too late they already failed." My gaze turned stone cold and my face neutral.

"You said that if they had a bell then they would pass. It didn't matter if it was through teamwork or not, you said so. Teamwork may have been the goal of the test but those three have bells and you already said I passed. Are you going back on your word and being a lier then? Because I won't let your stupid test get in the way of them achieving their dreams." I growled out. Kakashi looked at me wide-eyed before narrowing them down at me.

"Why do you care so much?"

"Because if I don't no one else will," I stated. I clenched my hands as my gaze got fiercer as they stared into Kakashi's confused orbs.

"The village doesn't care about these kids. Sakura is a nobody amongst the crowd, Naruto is seen as a monster, and Sasuke is the prodigious Uchiha that everyone loves you really think they give a damn about these kids dreams and feelings!? I don't care if anyone remembers my dream, but I'll be damned if there's are forgotten. So you either let them pass or you stay a manipulative bastard." Kakashi stared at me in shock. I turned away and walked towards the stunned trio. Shoko looked at me with a sympathetic smile as he stood to his feet. Taking out a kunai, I cut Naruto's ropes. The blonde stumbled but regained his balance and looked back at me.

"Takeshi, your dream won't be forgotten."

"Huh?"

"I'll protect your dream and make sure you achieve it!" Naruto shouted beaming up at me. I looked down at him in shock but let a bittersweet smile spread across my face. I ruffled his hair.

"Thanks, Naruto-kun." From behind Naruto, Sakura shuffled up and glanced up at me every now and again.

"Um, I will too Takeshi-kun. I'll protect and help you achieve your dream." I smiled and she sent one back. Naruto looked down past me and glared at my younger brother.

"What about you Sasuke? He is your brother after all." Sasuke glanced up at me before looking back down at his lap.

"Hmph, fine." I felt like crying then and there. Sasuke probably didn't mean it but those words meant a lot to me. I heard Kakashi let out a soft laugh.

"You kids really are amazing. You all pass." Naruto shouted in joy wrapping his arms around my neck. I laughed a bit and twirled him around before setting him on the ground.

"You guys are the first ones to pass, but then again I've never seen such passion come from one boy that the entire team would band together. There was this saying that a friend of mine told me, 'Those who break the rules and codes of the ninja world are trash, but those who don't take care of their comrades are lower than trash.'" He stated before ruffling my hair.

"And I feel like you four will be the ones to break the rules, but you'll always take care of your comrades. Now come on let's go get some lunch at Ichiraku's." Naruto cheered again and sprinted forward leaving the rest of us behind. Shoko laughed and followed after him. Sasuke and I glanced at each other before we smirked and took off sprinting after the two.

~At Ichiraku's, Sitting at the Bar, 7:30 PM~

I had finished my bowl a while ago and now was simply conversing with everyone. Sasuke seemed to remember as we arrived that he hated me and sat on the other side of everyone up against the wall so I couldn't sit next to him. I laughed at a joke made at Naruto's expense and then taken away from the conversation by a tap on my shoulder it was a male jonin this time and he asked about the Blood Country. I sifted through my back and opened the red book that I used earlier giving him all the information I had on the Land of Blood. He thanked me and gave me 6500 Ryo. Placing the money in my wallet I realized that the conversation between my team stopped. I turned and jumped slightly when they were all just staring at me like that.

"Um, do you need something?" I asked. Kakashi narrowed his eyes once again.

"Takeshi how do you have all of this information?" He questioned. I scratched my cheek and let out a hum.

"Well, I can't tell you where I get it all from, but I can tell you that I'm an Information Broker." Kakashi, Sakura, and Sasuke all choked on the food they were eating and I honestly think that Naruto was ignoring the conversation.

"A kid your age!?" Kakashi exclaimed.

"How is that even possible!?" Sakura followed. I shrugged my shoulders and asked for another bowl of Miso Pork Ramen to get out of the conversation quickly. As the night dragged on Sakura was the first to leave saying that she may worry her parents if she stays out too late. Naruto followed soon after saying that he wanted to train before going to bed. Shoko went simply because he was tired and Kakashi followed paying the bill since Sasuke and myself weren't going to eat anymore. Sitting in the heavy silence that surrounded my brother and me, I decided to head home myself. Pushing the soft flaps back, I made my way to my apartment.

"Takeshi!" Sasuke's voice shouted after me. I was shocked at first, but composed myself well enough and turned around. Sasuke jogged up to me and stopped about a yard away.

"What's up, Sasuke?" I replied turning around fully to face him.

"Why?" He muttered. I rose an eyebrow, my grip loosening on my satchel.

"'Why' what?" He glared at me.

"Why are you protecting my dream when it so obviously clashes with yours?" He asked harshly. I gave him a soft smile and let out a breath.

"Because everyone deserves a dream Sasuke, even if yours does clash with mine, I refuse to let that get in my way of keeping it safe. It's the reason I became an info broker." He looked at me questionably.

"I became an info broker shortly after you tossed me to the curb because I didn't share the hate you had for Itachi. I knew our big brother wouldn't do something like that, and being the determined little monster that I am I got to work. My dream was realized then. I wanted to bring Itachi back home so we could be a family again, and I knew that it rightfully clashed with yours but I wasn't going to force my dream onto you. Because even after you started hating me Sasuke, my love only grew for you." I sent him one last smile and turned on my heel heading back home. The night sky was sparkling and I felt light that evening. When I walked through the door Itachi, my cat was waiting for me. Smiling at him I headed back to my room with him following. I changed and climbed into bed with the Siberian cat jumping on at the end.

"Don't worry big brother, we will be a family again."

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ibcexchange · 5 years

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International Business and Chinese Enterprise (IBCE) Program Review

I have not posted on this blog since undergrad (~2013), but I feel like a published online review is long overdue. I know it will be lengthy, but comprehensive. If you were looking for a review in the first place, you will benefit by reading to the end. I hope it shows up in searches.

Why now? I believe that given my IBCE experience and what I learned throughout the process, I may have chosen a different undergraduate experience. So, this review is for transparency and for all those out there seeking to select the best fit for undergrad.

Choosing IBCE... and by default... The University of South Carolina

There were three main factors that led me to choose the International Business and Chinese Enterprise (IBCE) program at The University of South Carolina’s Moore School of Business. 1) #1 International Business Ranking, 2) the promise of internships/practical experience, and 3) a passion for culture, language, and travel. However, as you will read, these criteria that underpinned my decision to attend IBCE were evaluated naively. I hope this provides the insight required for you to make the right decision. In my opinion, the IBCE experience was interesting, but, interesting does not deserve four years of tuition.

1) [International] Business Ranking (What’s an International Business major?)

Let me start this section by keeping it 100. International Business is not a real/practical/rigorous undergraduate major and is not how multi-national companies hire or promote talent. A company will NEVER ask “Our ideal candidate has completed an International Business curriculum. Have you?” It is a study of how businesses cannot cookie cut products and services and sell them across the globe. International business studies belong in the behavioral sciences department and not in the business school.

Think about it using this over-simplified example. Would a multinational corporation (MNC) hire a 21/22 year old with no practical experience to address cross-cultural product penetration issues? Probably not. Will a MNC hire a 21/22 year old to maintain a spreadsheet? Yes.

(An aside: Even if you secure a Strategy Consulting job out of undergrad, believe me, you still won’t be solving high level issues. You will be getting coffee, cleaning up slides, mining Excel, scheduling team dinners, etc. Don’t have delusions of grandeur about your first work experience out of undergrad.)

In conclusion, don’t make the same mistake I made. The University of South Carolina Moore School of Business’s #1 in International Business ranking should not weigh heavily or even be included in your school/program evaluation criteria. To my knowledge, no other schools even offer International Business as a major. So, of course any school that does is going to be #1. Instead, the better metric is the overall business school’s rank which is, as of 2019, #74 out of 131.

2) Internships and Practical Experience (This section holds the secret to undergraduate business school recruiting and landing a great job out of undergrad)

I was hungry for any experience that I could get. So, I discussed internship opportunities with the head of the program, who assured me that the program would coordinate internship opportunities. This, as you will read later, was not the case and that is unfortunate. Keep reading!

There were only a few companies that recruited from The Moore School of Business when I attended. Most people had to find opportunities through networking. As I recall, there were only a few good-for-SC companies that recruited--GE Capital (Risk), Bank of America (Risk and Treasury), Nestle (Leadership Development Program), Deloitte (Audit), Seimens (Leadership Development Program). As I discuss below, there were only a couple of positions available. Competition was tough and candidates with more internship experience and better networks prevailed.

IBCE did organize one language internship through the Yale-China Chinese Language Center where we spent a couple of weeks studying Chinese in Xi’an. This was just more school and nothing more. Outside of that “internship,” there were no other opportunities offered and, of course, no time for internships because we were in intensive Chinese language classes most of our summers. Also, none of the opportunities mentioned above were IBCE exclusive and there were no opportunities in Hong Kong. CUHK does not participate in IBCE career services.

IBCE did try to leverage a Citi Bank alum connection and sent us on a tour of Citi with her. But it was exploratory, as recruiters say, and no position was on the table and certainly no offers were extended. It was honestly quite depressing and the first humbling sign that I was not at UVA, NYU, Ross, Stanford, Harvard, Yale, etc.

***Secret to Undergraduate Business Recruiting***

You need internships. If your school is a target school, companies will offer internship opportunities. Converting an internship into a full time offer is now the status quo. It is much rarer to receive an outright offer sans internship than in days past.

What is a target school? Companies now hire only/mostly from target schools. It is essential that you understand if and which companies recruit and hire from the school you are considering. The reason target schools emerged and are now the most important campus recruiting vehicle is because corporate recruiters are tasked to be as effective as possible without spending all the company’s cash on recruiting undergrads. Therefore, most companies focus efforts by choosing a list of target schools. This allows them to reduce the amount of time they would otherwise spend sifting through mountains of resumes and focus on recruiting the right candidate for the job from a dependable university.

Companies will carve out ~2-5 internship openings each year for a target school depending on the size and performance of the company and the quality of the school. As you can surmise from the small number of opportunities offered by each company, competition is intense. Therefore, you should give yourself the best shot at a great job by attending a university that gets the most opportunities. Do yourself a favor and set yourself up for success. Even though there are some parents and families that seem over-zealous about name brand universities and would only have their children attend a top 25 school, they are not wrong. Those schools are, more likely than not, target schools.

Do not despair if you find yourself mid-undergrad at a non-target school. You can always transfer and I would recommend it. Why? The answer is two fold. First, if you are taking on debt for undergrad, you need to make it worth it. Even if you are lucky enough not to take debt out for undergrad, you still want to make the most of your time. The runway to 30 after undergrad goes fast. Don’t dawdle. Second, you don’t want to have to go to grad school to recruit because it is also costly. The other options are not ideal.

3) Culture, Language, and Travel

I was passionate about learning more about different cultures, languages, and travel. These passions developed through my academic pursuits in middle and high school.

As a high school sophomore, I was selected to attend Tennessee’s Governor's School for International Studies. This is a summer program that the State curates to allow high-performing high school students to study at the next level, university level. There are several iterations of this program (e.g., Performing Arts), but I attended the International Studies curriculum. During the program, I met several fascinating people and studied Political Science, Portuguese, and more at the university level. This experience highlighted that I did not want to take political science in my actual undergrad and that there is so much of the world I haven’t seen or studied. The drive to see and explore was cemented in my mind after that summer.

Throughout middle and high school, I was fascinated by languages. I started with Spanish, but eventually branched out with Latin and French. Learning different languages seemed to imbue the learner with a new perspective and world view. It also provided a window into a different world than Nashville, TN that I had known all my life. Through language study, school offered study abroad / exchange programs for corresponding countries. I capitalized on these programs and visited France and Spain for language immersion before graduating. I caught the travel bug and wanderlust became real.

The IBCE Experience...

The overall experience was fairly disjointed and the program was not as managed as it should be. Moving schools every other year is not an effective way to learn and is also disadvantageous for recruiting. You cannot recruit or intern in the US from Hong Kong studying. It is also difficult to develop friendships with your South Carolina peers if you are practically never there. You can end up in an IBCE bubble, which could be toxic. There are however a significant number of international students who study abroad at CUHK and they are good to get to know.

Expense

The summers were by far the most expensive component of my undergraduate bill. Each summer is $10k+. Though, if you enrolled in the Yale-China Chinese Language Center courses on your own rather than through IBCE, it would cost you only $5,201 in tuition and ~$1,500 in room and board. So, there was about $3k+ missing from the equation for each summer. We inquired about the discrepancy, but were admonished feverishly for asking. It seemed like educational profiteering to me and mine. FYI--Those are 2019 prices and not 2011 prices. I’m sure in 2011, it didn’t cost as much.

Year 1

The first year, I met my cohort and begin Chinese language courses at The University of South Carolina.

Year 2

The second year, I traveled to Hong Kong in the summer for the first time to begin intensive Chinese language classes. I met my CUHK cohort at the tail end of the summer as the British university system is 3 instead of 4 years long. After the academic year ended, I stayed in Hong Kong to complete the second summer of intensive Chinese language study.

Year 3

The third year, I was back in South Carolina studying alongside the CUHK cohort. This is the year that you complete all required courses for graduation, save a few because the study abroad credits come back as pass/fail and can only be a portion of your academic track. After the academic year ended, I secured a great-for-SC internship in NYC. I, however, chose not to pursue the full time position in NYC after graduation for several reasons.

Year 4

I graduated in Hong Kong without full time employment not knowing how difficult it would be to recruit with virtually no experience and while no longer a student on campus.

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pope-francis-quotes · 5 years

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1st June >> (@ZenitEnglish) #Pope Francis #PopeFrancis Address at Marian Meeting with Young People and Families in Iasi, Romania (Full Text) #PopeFrancis #PopeinRomania

In Square in Front of Palace of Culture

Following is the full text of the address Pope Francis gave on June 1, 2019, at his Marian Meeting with Young People and Families in Iasi, on the second day of his apostolic journey to Romania from May 31-June2.

******

Dear Brothers and Sisters, bună seara!

Here with you, I feel the warmth being at home and part of a family, surrounded by young and old alike. In your presence and looking out at you, it is easy to feel at home. The Pope feels at home here with you. Thank you for your warm welcome and for your testimonies. Bishop Petru, good strong father that he is, included all of you in his introduction. And you, Eduard, confirmed this when you told us that this meeting was not simply for young people or adults, but that you “wanted our parents and grandparents to be with us tonight”.

Today is Children’s Day in Romania – let’s greet them with a round of applause! The first thing I would like us to do is to pray for them, asking the Blessed Virgin to shelter them under her mantle. Jesus placed children in the midst of his Apostles; we too want to put them at the center. We want to reaffirm our commitment to love them with the same love with which the Lord loves them and to make every effort to ensure their right to a future.

I am happy to know that here in this Square we see the face of God’s family, which is made up of children, young people, married couples, consecrated men and women, elderly Romanians from different regions and traditions, and others from Moldova. There are also those who came from the other side of the river Prut and who speak Csango, Polish and Russian. The Holy Spirit has called us here and he helps us discover the beauty of being together, of being able to meet to journey together. Each of you has his or her own language and traditions, but you are happy to be here with others, with the happiness shared by Elisabeta and Ioan and their eleven children. All of you are different, you come from different places, yet “today everyone is gathered, together, just as on every Sunday morning in the old days, when everyone went to Church together”. The happiness of parents seeing their children gathered around them. Surely, today there is joy in heaven at the sight of all these children who have wanted to be together.

This is the experience of a new Pentecost (as we heard in the reading), where the Spirit embraces our differences and gives us the strength to open up paths of hope by bringing out the best in each person. It is the same path taken by the Apostles two thousand years ago. Today we are called to take their place and encouraged to be sowers of good seed. We cannot wait for others to do this; it is up to us.

Journeying together is not easy, is it? It is a gift that we have to ask for. A work of art for us to create, a beautiful gift for us to hand on. But where do we start?

I would like to take up a point made by our elderly couple, Elisabeta and Ioan. It is good to see when love sinks deep roots through sacrifice and commitment, work and prayer. Love took root in the two of you and it has borne rich fruit. As the prophet Joel says, when young and old meet, the elderly are not afraid to dream (cf. 2:28 [3:1]). This was your dream: “We dream that they may build a future without forgetting where they came from. We dream that none of our people will forget their roots”. You look to the future and you open the door to it for your children, your grandchildren, and your people by offering them the best lesson that you learned from your own journey: never forget where you come from. Wherever you go and whatever you do, don’t forget your roots. It is the same dream, the same advice that Saint Paul gave to Timothy: to keep alive the faith of his mother and grandmother (cf. 2 Tim 1:5-7). As you continue to grow in every way – stronger, older and even in importance – do not forget the most beautiful and worthwhile lesson you learned at home. It is the wisdom that comes from age. When you grow up, do not forget your mother and your grandmother, and the simple but robust faith that gave them the strength and tenacity to keep going and not to give up. It is a reason for you to give thanks and to ask for the generosity, courage, and selflessness of a “home-grown” faith that is unobtrusive, yet slowly but surely builds up the Kingdom of God.

Certainly, a faith that does not show up on the stock exchange, or “sell”, may not appear, as Eduard reminded us, to “be of much use”. Faith, however, is a gift that keeps alive a profound and beautiful certainty: that we are God’s beloved children. God loves with a Father’s love. Every life and every one of us belongs to him. We belong as children, but also as grandchildren, spouses, grandparents, friends, neighbors; we belong as brothers and sisters. The Evil one divides, scatters, separates; he sows discord and distrust. He wants us to live “detached” from others and from ourselves. The Spirit, on the contrary, reminds us that we are not anonymous, abstract, faceless beings, without history or identity. We are not meant to be empty or superficial. There is a very strong spiritual network that unites us; one that “connects” and sustains us, and is stronger than any other type of connection. It is roots: the realization that we belong to one another, that each of our lives is anchored in the lives of others. “Young people flourish when they are truly loved”, Eduard said. We all flourish when we feel loved. Because love draws us out of ourselves and invites us to take root in the lives of others. It is like those beautiful words of your national poet, whose fond wish for your sweet Romania was that “your children might live only in fraternity, like the stars of the night” (M. EMINESCU, What I Wish for You, Sweet Romania). We belong to each other and our happiness is meant to make others happy. Everything else is nonsense.

To journey together, wherever you may be, never forget what you learned at home.

This reminds me of the prophecy of one of the holy hermits of these lands. One day, the monk Galaction Ilie of Sihăstria Monastery was walking among sheep grazing on a mountainside when he met a saintly hermit whom he knew. He asked him: Tell me, Father, when will the world end? And the venerable hermit, with a deep sigh, replied: Father Galaction, do you want to know when the world will end? When there are no more paths between neighbors! That is, when there is no more Christian love and understanding between brothers and sisters, relatives, Christians and between peoples! When persons lose all their love, then it will truly be the end of the world. Because without love and without God, no one can live on the earth!

Life begins to wilt and droop, our hearts stop beating and wither, the elderly no longer dream and young people no longer prophesy when pathways between neighbors disappear… Because without love and without God, no one can live on the earth.

Eduard told us that, like many others in his town, he tried to practice the faith amid numerous challenges. Many indeed are the challenges that can discourage us and make us close in on ourselves. We cannot deny it or pretend that it isn’t the case. Difficulties exist and they are evident. But that cannot make us forget that faith itself offers us the greatest challenge of all: a challenge that, far from enclosing or isolating us, can bring out the best in us all. The Lord is the first to challenge us. He tells us that the worst comes when there are no more paths between neighbors when we see more trenches than roads. The Lord is the one who gives us a song more powerful than all the siren songs that would paralyze us on our journey. And he always does it the same way: by singing a more beautiful and challenging song.

The Lord gives us a vocation, a challenge to discover the talents and abilities we possess and to put them at the service of others. He asks us to use our freedom as a freedom to choose, to say yes to a loving plan, to a face, to a look. This is much greater freedom than simply being able to consume and buy things. It is a vocation that sets us in motion, makes us fill in trenches and open up new avenues to remind us all that we are children and brothers and sisters to one another.

During the Middle Ages, pilgrims set out together from this historical and cultural capital of your country, following the Via Transylvania on the way to Santiago de Compostela. Today many students from various parts of the world live here. I remember the virtual meeting we had in March (with Scholas Occurentes), where I learned that this year your city would be the national capital of youth. You have two great things here: a city historically known for openness and creativity, and one that can host young people from various parts of the world as it now does. Two things that remind us of the potential and the great mission that can you can carry out: to open up paths for journeying together and pursuing that prophetic vision: without love and without God, no one can live on the earth. Today, from this place, new paths can open up to the future, towards Europe and many other parts of the world. You can be pilgrims of the twenty-first century, capable of imagining afresh the bonds that unite us.

This is less about generating great programs or projects, than about allowing faith to grow. As I mentioned to you at the beginning: faith is not transmitted only by words, but also by gestures, looks, and caresses, like those of our mothers and grandmothers; with the flavor of those things we learned at home in a straightforward and simple way. Where there are hue and din, let us try to listen; where there is confusion, let us inspire harmony; where everything is uncertain and ambiguous, let us bring clarity. Where there is exclusion, let us offer solidarity; in the midst of sensationalism and instant communication, let us be concerned about the integrity of others; where there is aggression, let us bring peace; where there is falsehood, let us bring truth. In everything, let us make it our concern to open up paths that enable a sense of belonging, of being children and brothers and sisters (cf. Message for the 2018 World Day of Social Communications).

Romania is the “garden of the Mother of God”, and in this meeting, I have been able to realize why. Mary is a Mother who encourages her children’s dreams, who cherishes their hopes, who brings joy to their homes. She is a tender and true Mother who cares for us. You are that living, flourishing and hope-filled community that we can offer to our Mother. To her let us consecrate the future of young people, families and the Church. Mulţumesc! [Thank you!] [00957-EN.01] [Original text: Italian]

1st JUNE 01, 2019 17:39PAPAL TRIPS

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professortennant · 6 years

Note

5 times Jack gave Sam his tags and the 1 time she gave him hers

written in about 2 hours (fuckin yikes it took some time) and clocks in at about 3445 words. rated T.

After Turghan, Jack had promised himself that he’d stick by Carter’s side a little tighter; maybe stand a little closer than protocol strictly dictated to give off some vague impression of possession should the question ever arise.

And arise it had.

The leader of PX5-972′s tribe looked at them with narrowed eyes, gaze darting between Sam and the rest of SG-1. “Who does this woman belong to?”

Jack stepped forward, finger on the trigger of his P90 just in case. He shot a look at Sam and smiled slightly to himself at the sight of her biting down hard on her lip to stop herself from protesting at the disdain with which woman was said and the insinuation that she belonged to anyone.

“She’s with me,” he said, hoping that would settle the matter. For the most part, their matching uniforms and military stances helped sell the ruse they were together.

The man’s eyes traveled over Sam’s form and he watched as she glared back, refusing to drop his gaze, her back straightening and shoulders squaring.

“You don’t claim your woman? No ring? No collar? How do the others of your world know she is taken?”

There was a pause as SG-1 shared a rush of silent communication–raised eyebrows and widened eyes and parted lips. And then Daniel was stepping in, his cultural knowledge scraping for an excuse.

“Our customs dictate a public exchange of, of, necklaces!” Daniel grinned at Jack and Sam, his eyes lingering on the silver chain of their dog tags. “Their names are inscribed on the metal and each morning and evening they exchange them. Uh, Jack, go ahead.”

Jack looked startled for a moment, wondering if this guy was actually buying the crap Daniel was spewing, before sighing and sliding his gun to his side, hands going to his dog tags around his neck and lifting them up over his head.

A few steps later and he was standing before his second in command, grinning at her with bright, warm brown eyes. “Well, Carter, whaddya say? Be my woman?”

She snorted at his irreverence and rolled her eyes. “You romantic, sir,” she deadpanned.

He slipped his dog tags over her head, knuckles brushing over her hair and ears as he settled the metal around her neck. Jack adjusted the tags on the front of her shirt, his name upon the metal facing outwards.

“There,” he said softly. “Claimed.”

A gentle blush spread across Carter’s cheeks and she ducked her head, hands tightening their grip on her P90.

As the tribal leader clapped his hands in delight and waved them on into the village, Jack swallowed hard and tried not to think about how much he really, really liked seeing his name hanging from his second in command’s neck.

II.

Daniel and Teal’c were passed out in the prison corner, catching a few hours of sleep in between watches. Jack grimaced and pressed fingers to his tender ribs, already knowing they were broken and, judging from the new gurgling rasp to his breath, that they had either punctured the lung or were pressing dangerously close against the lining.

They had an escape plan to enact tomorrow: distract the guards, break the control crystals, head for the rings, and then hightail it to the Stargate–all while fighting and dodging a couple battalions of Jaffa. Easy breezy.

But no matter SG-1′s miraculously lucky streak and no mater how Carter spun the odds of survival, he knew his chances of making it to the Stargate were slim. He’d do anything in his power to at least get his team back home safe.

A warm weight settled next to him and he shuddered out a breath.

“Carter,” he acknowledged. “You should be sleeping.”

She shrugged, drawing equations and star charts into the dirt at their feet. “Just going over the plan for tomorrow and couldn’t sleep.”

“You’ll be fine, Carter.”

He felt her gaze drill a hole into the side of his head, her doodles in the dirt stopping abruptly. “We’ll be fine, sir. You, included.”

Jack smiled softly at the fierceness in her voice, her insistence that he would come out of this just as fine, just as alive, as the rest of them. The sharp pain in his chest and the rattling breath he drew reminded him that he may not be seeing the SGC again.

He reached up and tugged his dog tags from his neck and dangled them between their bodies, offering them to her silently. She sucked in a sharp breath of surprise and pushed his hand away, “No, sir. Don’t you–Don’t–”

He pretended to not hear the crack in her voice or see the glint of tears in her eyes. “Sam,” he said softly, pushing the tags back at her. “Please. I want you to take them, just in case. If I–If I don’t come back. Bury them with Charlie. Just take them.”

She let out a strangled half-moan of distress before clenching her jaw and taking the tags from him, looping the metal around her neck, nestled right next to hers.

He sagged in relief, knowing this one thing would at least be taken care of–one less thing to worry about tomorrow in the back of his head. Sam rested her head on his shoulder, the silence descending upon them, easy and familiar. They always worked better, communicated better, in the silence.

“I’m giving these back to you in 9 hours, sir. And then I’m kicking your ass for giving them to me in the first place.”

He rested his head against hers, hiding his grin into her hair and forgetting the pain in his chest for a brief moment.

“Yes, ma’am.”

III.

The alien virus struck the women of the base hard but Carter, as Patient Zero, fell ill first and fell ill hardest. The virus caused confusion and dizziness, memory loss, and fleeting moments of aggression. Few things, in Jack O’Neill’s opinion, were as scary as watching the bright light behind Samantha Carter’s eyes dim in lost confusion, all spark of otherworldly intelligence and awareness disappearing.

The first, wild swing at General Hammond and the primal scream she let out earned her a one way trip to the SGC infirmary. Jack watched from her bedside as she thrashed in her infirmary bed, screaming and crying and begging to be let go. His heart leapt to his throat and he looked at Janet helplessly, “Doc, help her!”

The tiny doctor rushed forward and brushed her hands over Sam’s face, shining a light against her pupils and checking for a reaction. But Sam continued her thrashing, hips lifting off the bed.

Janet cursed and turned to the Colonel. “Help me hold her down.” She turned and ordered the nearest airman to bring her a set of restraints.

Jack hastily obeyed, grabbing Sam’s arms and leaning over her, keeping his voice low. “C’mon, Carter, snap out of it. C’mon, c’mon…”

His dog tags swung out from beneath his black undershirt and the edge of the tag brushed over her nose. She stilled and looked up at him, arm sneaking free of his hold and grasping the chain, holding the metal tag closer to her eyes.

“Jack,” she said slowly, eyes widening. For a moment, Jack saw recognition and awareness peak through her face, eyes brightening and staring at him. Her fingers curled around the metal and tugged and he went down with her, their faces a hair’s breadth apart.

“Jack,” she whispered, imploring and pleading. He just nodded, encouraged, hoping that whatever had struck Carter was over.

“Yeah, Sam,” he said, voice low and soothing. “It’s Jack.”

Beside them, Janet and the airman stood watching the interaction, restraints at the ready.

Carter tugged at his dog tags again and chanted to herself Jack Jack Jack. Whatever it was about his dog tags, it soothed something inside of Sam and he would sit here as long as it took until Doc Fraiser and her merry band of airman could figure out what the hell was going on.

He stayed with her, nose brushing over Carter’s occasionally as she continue her exam of his dog tags, the pads of her fingertips tracing over the engraved name and blood type and date and identification number.

After a while, though, staying hunched over in this position was hell on his back and knees. He couldn’t sit in the chair at her bedside without strangling himself. Jack figured it wasn’t really him that sick Carter was attached to–it was his tags. She was finally dozing softly–partially due to the comfort of his dog tags and partially because of the light sedative Janet had administered.

Licking his lips, Jack wriggled as gently as possible and lifted the chain from his neck. The rest of the metal fell onto her chest, his tags still safely encased in her fist. He let out a little groan of relief when he finally could sit down.

In the bed before him, Sam stirred a little and she let out a breathy, “Jack…”

He tried to not let the sound get to him, tried not to imagine that breathy sound echoing off the walls in his bedroom. Shaking himself from his fantasy detour, he slipped his hand into hers, thumb stroking over the inside of her risk.

She rolled onto her side towards him and drew her clenched fist with his dog tags in it up beneath her chin, sighing softly.

He was more than happy to be her anchor.

IV.

Cassie frowned at him from her position on his lap, fingers tugging at the chain around his neck. “But why do only you and Mom and Sam wear these?” Her eyes lit up. “Can I have some, too?”

He laughed and ruffled her hair, swinging her up and off his lap and taking her smaller hand in his, leading her to the ice cream stand across the way from the park.

“Only military wears ‘em, Cass.”

He ordered them an ice cream each–chocolate cone for him and strawberry for her. They munched and linked happily at the confection and Jack forgot how much fun it was to be around kids like this–eating ice cream on a sunny day and asking questions just because you could.

“But why do you wear them?”

He sighed and took a thoughtful lick of his ice cream. “It’s complicated, sweetheart. Sometimes when we go off-world or to another country and things go wrong and we can’t come back, the military uses our dog tags–that’s what we call ‘em–to identify us.”

He hoped he didn’t need to explain further. Cassie was wise beyond her years and probably understood exactly why they would need to be identified. Cassie bit into her ice cream and hummed.

“And then what?”

He shrugged, pulling the car keys from his pocket as they approached his truck. “And then they give your tags to someone really special to you so they can have closure, a piece of you after you’re gone. It’s–it’s complicated, Cass. The tags mean a lot to military. It’s a piece of who you are, a scrap of yourself when you’re a long way from home.”

They clambered up into the truck and Jack finished off the last bite of ice cream, wincing as Cassie’s melting dessert dripped onto his upholstery.

“I get it,” she said softly. “I’d,” she hesitated before continuing. “I wish my mom had something like that before…”

He heard the sadness tinge her voice and he reached out to cup her shoulder and the back of her head in comfort. “I know, kiddo.”

Shaking off the memories, Cassie turned a mischievious look towards Jack. “So,” she said slowly, dragging out the ‘o’ sound and grinning. “You’re not married.”

He furrowed his brow at her. “No,” he confirmed.

“And you don’t have any siblings?”

“Nope.”

“So, someone else who was special would get your tags, right?”

He turned a sharp eye on her, wondering where she was going with this. “I suppose,” he said, laughter in his voice.

Cassie shrugged and turned to face towards the windshield, sneaking a glance at him from the corner of her eye.

“Sam’s pretty special to you, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Sam’s pretty special.”

“So, if something happened to you….she’d get your tags?”

Jack’s grip on the steering wheel tightened and he imagined a world in which a couple of airmen and General Hammond had to hand Sam his tags along with the letter addressed to her in his desk. He didn’t want to think about Sam sliding his tags alongside her own, the only piece of him–the only memory of him–she had left.

He cleared his throat and shook the image from his mind.

“Yeah, Cass. She’s the special someone who would get my tags.”

Jack inhaled deeply, gathering his nerve and hoping to God that Pete wasn’t with her tonight. He couldn’t do this on base–it was too personal, too much. A few short raps upon her door later, she was standing before him looking soft and tousled, wrapped in a too-large USAF sweatshirt and thin pajama pants.

She looked surprised to see him on her porch and she hugged the door to he hip. “Uh, what are you doing here, sir?”

He dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I needed to talk to you about something.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. She opened the door wider and gestured at her entry hall. “Did you want to come in?”

He thought about the temptation of being alone in her house with her, wrapped up in the scent of her, her soft skin and warm body only a few inches from him. It was too much to fight against and he was already feeling weak, already feeling stretched too thin and too tested.

He shook his head and shuffled his feet, “Uh, no, that’s okay. I’ll be quick. It’s just, I just–Ah, hell.” Words were never his strong suit, anyway. He withdrew his hand from his jean pocket and held out the tangled silver chain and dog tags.

She gaped at him, eyes darting from his outstretched hand to his eyes–eyes that were warm and open and pleading, tinged with sadness and a touch of desperation.

“Sir…”

He shook his head against the honorific. “No, not ‘sir.’ Not for this, Sam.”

She stared, her tight grip on the door turning her knuckles white. “And what is ‘this’?”

And wasn’t that the question of the decade.

He drew his shoulders back, hand holding his dog tags still outstretched between them. “I can’t give you a ring, Sam. Not now and I know, I know you got tired of waiting for someday. But I can’t let you go or marry Pete without offering you this.” He pushed the tags towards her again.

He hoped she understood what he was saying; hoped that whatever connection they shared allowed her to see that he was offering everything he had ever held dear to him to her–his life wrapped up and personified by a metal plate with his name and burial preferences stamped into a tag and chain.

Sam stepped out from behind her door onto the porch in front of him, the pair of them illuminated by her porch light. Her fingers reached between them, brushing over the tags and the skin of his palm and wrist and fingers. He watched with rapt attention as she gently took the tags from his hand and pressed her thumb into the engraving of his name.

She looked up at him, eyes shining with tears and her teeth sunken into the flesh of her bottom lip. “Jack,” she said softly, voice breaking.

She pushed the tags back at him.

The air rushed from his lungs and the color drained from his face. She didn’t want him anymore–didn’t want someday. He hoped he wasn’t swaying on the spot, hoped she didn’t see the way his heart shattered in his chest and spread numbing coldness throughout his body and down his fingertips.

He had forgotten what heartbreak truly felt like.

Numbly, he took the tags from her–took his offer of a life, of a love and a future back. He wondered how much Scotch he’d have to drink tonight to forget this feeling.

And then she was there, hands ghosting over his hands and up his arms, brushing his cheek gently. “Jack.” Her voice was low and warm and the crooked finger beneath his chin lifted his gaze to hers and she was smiling–smiling–at him.

“I know it’s not a ring, but you could at least put it on me.”

His broken heart pieced itself back together in the time it took him to see her smile and warmth courtesy of Samantha Carter rushed through his body once more. He grinned at her easy acceptance and lifted the chain around her neck, deliberately trailing the backs of his fingers against her ears and neck, taking careful time to adjust the pair of tags between the valley of her breasts.

The back of his knuckles grazed the swell of her breast and she gasped, swaying forward. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to seal the deal of their facsimile of an engagement, of this promise, in the traditional way–even if nothing about this, about them, was traditional.

He stepped back, hands trailing over her arms, his eyes glued to his name resting over her heart.

“Hold on, Sam,” he said softly. “Someday is coming soon, I promise. Just–just hold on.”She pressed her hand over his heart and nodded. “Holding on, sir.”VI.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Sam rolled her eyes at her husband’s greeting, calling out from the kitchen, “In here.”

He strode in and tossed his cover onto the counter, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her softly, pressing his lips to hers lightly and then more insistently, tongue sweeping over the seam of her lips.

She hummed against him and pulled away, enjoying the way Jack’s eyes remained closed a half-second after their kiss ended, as if he was still savoring her touch.

“I have something for you,” she said, turning towards the kitchen table where a black box sat. He grinned and wrapped his arms around her again, hand palming her breast and his hips pressing into hers from behind.

His lips sucked at her pulse point and he murmured into her skin, “I bet you do.”

She swatted him away and made a grab for the box on the table, turning and pressing it into his chest.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, turning his attention to the box and missing the apprehension and nervousness on his wife’s face. “Why, Carter, it’s not even my birthday.”

He lifted the hinged lid and stared at the contents. Sam held her breath as she watched him pull out the tiny link-metal chain with three dog tags on it.

On one tag, her name was engraved: Samantha Carter-O’Neill. DOB 08/28/65.

On another, his name was engraved: Jack O’Neill. DOB 01/23/50.

And finally, on the middle tag, was engraved: Baby Carter-O’Neill. DOB: TBD.

His large hands held the tiny dog tags in his palm, cradling the cool metal, his lips forming the words silently over and over again: Baby O’Neill.

Sam twisted her hands in front of her anxiously. “Jack? Are you–Do you–”

But her question was cut off as Jack wrapped his arms around her, his face buried into her neck, shoulders shaking with tears and laughter and sobs. “We’re gonna have a baby, Sam. A baby, I–”

She sagged against him in relief and felt his hand palm her belly, searching for signs of life already, searching for changes to her body that he had somehow missed with his lips and tongue and hands last night.

Between them, their hands wrapped around the set of dog tags–the first Carter-O’Neill family portrait of sorts.

About nine months later, that set of tags hung happily above their daughter’s crib.

#mystupidumbflyboy #sam x jack #sg1 fic #stargate sg1 fic #samantha carter #jack o'neill #jack x sam

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ashleysouniqueblog · 6 years

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A Guide on “How To” Habana

If you came across this blog post, you may already have found out that planning a trip to Cuba from America is not the easiest task. There is not much information online and the information that is online conflicts. This may be since some of the information is 4-5 years old and things there are in the development stages. I too had a hard time finding information and this is what made me determined to pass on real experiences and suggestions.

My trip to Havana, Cuba was a full 3 days, from Thursday to Sunday. I planned this trip for myself along with 12 others. So here are some key takeaways:

1. Flights: In order to a book a flight to Cuba from America you have to fall into one of the 12 OFAC Categories. All airlines require you to choose one before being allowed to book the flight. Make sure that you choose correctly as you will be asked again when it’s time to check in and when you land in Cuba. Also, Visas must be purchased at check in or at the gate they can range anywhere from $20 to $100 depending on the airline and departure city.

· Visiting family

· Humanitarian projects or to provide support to the Cuban people

· Official business of the U.S. government, foreign governments and certain intergovernmental organizations

· Journalistic activities

· Professional research

· Educational activities by persons at academic institutions

· People to people travel

· Religious activities

· Public performance, clinics, workshops, athletic or other competitions and exhibitions

· Authorization to provide travel services, carrier services and remittance forwarding services

· Activities of private foundations, research or educational institutes

· Exportation of certain Internet-based services

2. Housing: Booking an Airbnb instead of staying in a hotel falls under OFAC “Support for The Cuban People” also if you do choose to stay in a hotel make sure it is not on the U.S. Department of State Restricted List. Quality Airbnb’s tend to get booked quick so make sure you are giving yourself time to life the life you want to while in Cuba. Make sure you communicate with the house host as some houses have strict rules. For example, you may not be able to bring outside food or drinks into the home, no guests can come to the house, no parties, no loud music, men may not be able tot sleep in the same room, etc.

Due to my group of people being over 10 people the options we had for Airbnb’s were off the back limited as we later found out that the city does not accommodate large groups very well. Furthermore, I found an Airbnb called “Blue Mansion Hostel My Way”. This home had none of the house rules as above and the host was more than accommodating while communicating with me before I booked. La Casa Blue Mansion Airbnb pictures does not do this house any justice. This house was beautiful and huge we had more than enough space!! Online it says that there were double beds in most rooms then 6 single beds split between 2 bedrooms. When we got there the single beds were Queen sized and the double beds were King sized. Everyone in my group had their own bed, and even some had their own room. Every bedroom had separate bathrooms and ample towels etc. There was 24/7 security, house cooks and waitstaff were on standby for whatever you may need, or request. This is a very clean family house and it has a very cultured feel. My group spent a lot of time in the many patio areas around the pool or in the bar club area that also had a pool table. We were very pleased.

3. Currency: Visa, Mastercard, American Express or any other debit/credit card is not accepted in Cuba so bring enough cash with you for your entire trip. US dollars is hit with an extra conversion penalty and lose value dramatically is you convert directly from USD to CUC. Therefore, we converted USD to EUR prior to our flights, then converted from EUR to CUC once we landed in Cuba.

Cuba has 2 currencies: CUC and CUP. You should always get CUC as it is more widely accepted, and CUC has the higher value. For instance, CUC is 1 to 1 to USD/EUR/CAD (roughly), while CUP is 1 to 25 USD/EUR/CAD. CUC is what we seen prices in tourist areas listed, while businesses that displayed CUP were in neighborhoods. Of course, food was cheaper in neighborhoods.

How much to bring? We were there for 3 days converted between $500-1,000 USD and once the trip was over we pretty much converted most of it back. It’s safe to bring more than what you’ll expect to spend just in case. Also, if you save your receipt from exchange centers in the airport, within 30 days they allow you to convert back without a fee at the same rate you purchased.

4. Airport Experience: When you first land in Cuba, you will be outside and will walk into the building. The customs agents and TSA are 90% women. Their uniforms are quite interesting as the military style miniskirts and black fishnet stockings fit very sexy. I was pleasantly surprised. Waiting on baggage claim was okay until my bag was literally the last one out on the belt and the moment I grabbed it, agents wanted me to step to a table on the side for an extra check. The bag that I checked was actually school supplies that I was planning to give to the kids at a school near our Airbnb. They were speaking Spanish and I only caught on to key words like “violation”. I was started to wonder why? There was nothing I brought that was against the law, just folders, composition notebooks, crayons, markers, and chalk. As they checked the pages on the notebooks they had all my friends who were waiting close the door come back to scan all of our bags through a metal detector. Shortly after, they let us go. Weird.

5. Airport Transportation: We booked airport transportation through our house because several of us took different flights and landed at different times. The house had someone waiting with a sign at every single one of our flights. Airport Taxis literally wait in the airport line all day to get someone who is going into the city, not from one terminal to the other. So, keep that in mind for your departure date because it will be hard to find a ride from one terminal to another.

6. Taxis: Taxis in the city are cheap. You’ll be fine but ask how much before you ride off with them so that you aren’t shocked by the rate. We allowed our house to organize taxis to and from the city and club. We were dropped off at different meeting points and gave him a time to pick us up. He was always on time.

7. WiFi: Most American cell phone plans do not work in Cuba. So as soon as you touch down you most likely will not be able to contact anyone. Hotels and Wifi parks sell WiFi cards $2 for an hour of online activity. Two guys in my group found a park and waited in a long line to get one. The rest of us did not see any of the WiFi parks. Some people were able to make calls from there cell at $2.49 a minute, but they could not receive a call. We were there for 3 days so soon after we stopped worrying about being able to get on social media and focused on enjoying the time and people that were right in front of us. If you are anything like me, be prepared, plan ahead. Download Maps.Me and download the Havana, Cuba offline map. Also, take screen shots of restaurants, addresses, important information, flight information, etc. as it is very likely you will not have connectivity.

8. Giving back to the Cubano kids: I planned a school drive as a form of giving back to the Cuban kids. We all brought supplies we thought may be scarce or just needed to be replaced to give to them. With the help of our Airbnb host we were able to get the Principal of a local school (I will not name the school) to allow us into the school to give the kids supplies. They were happy children with big bright smiles in their uniforms. This warmed my heart.

9. Restaurants: Most dishes we found in Cuba of course were seafood. But you were able to find chicken, salads, and pizza as well. I won’t detail all of them but 2 in particular. There is the O’Reilly 304 Gin Bar and Restaurant. We were all completely amazed by the bartender and all of his concoctions of drinks. We also met the manager Julio we completely accommodated us and had a million stories to tell of U.S. celebrities who has stopped by his spot. One thing I must say is that we were wondering what was taking so long with our food and soon after Julio and another guy comes in with fresh veggies and a string line of fish just caught out the ocean! Not to mention the food was seasoned very well! Make sure you try the salsa for the plantains, you will not be disappointed. Another day we went to Del Mar beach but met at Rachon Don Pepe, a beach hut restaurant. There drinks were $2.50 each! If you find yourself in the area stop by and get the lobster tail and boiled shrimp with hot sauce! There is also a pinacoloda spot next door that will completely give you beach vibes.

10. Beaches: The most popular beach that everyone says to go to is Veradero. This beach is 3 hours out of the city. Planning this trip, I did not want to have to commute 6 hours for anything, so I did some research on other beaches and found Del Mar. ‘Playa Estes Del Mar” was absolutely perfect!!! We all fell in love from the moment we walked up a sand hill and got to the top and saw the crystal-clear water and warm smooth sand. If I could I would go back just to have another day on that beach.

11. Cuban People: I’m not sure if I just didn’t know what to expect Cubans to look like but they look like us! The country is full of beautiful black and brown people! I absolutely loved the looks. Everyone we encountered either did not say anything to us or was very nice and talkative. I believe they are just as curious of us as we are with them. A lot of Cubans are artists, I was not expecting so much beautiful art! If you have the chance stop by the market and bring extra cash to buy some timeless pieces of art and paintings.

12. Night Life: Our first night in town we went to a place by the name of “Mio y Tuyo”, drinks and food was cheap, and they had a good DJ with the videos to the songs playing in the background. We found out later that is place is someone’s home. They made the first floor of their home into a club. Cool right? Our second night, we went to “Fabrica de Arte Cubano”. This place is about 7 clubs in one big building with patios. Each club played a different type of music but all of them made you want to stop and dance. All throughout the building was a display of art from local artists, which I absolutely loved. The bartenders make all the drinks hand crafted and none of the mixers come from machine. Everything was from fresh ingredients. The 3rd night we were going to go to “Fantasy” but we ended up throwing a party for ourselves in our Airbnb club (the house seriously has its own club).

13. Tours: Book the Vinales Cigar rolling and Horseback riding tour, it’s an all-day tour but is worth it, so plan to have 1 full day of your trip there. If you are short on time as we were, there is a Cigar Factory and Rum tour in the city that is roughly 3 hours, and they are only open on weekdays. If you book an Airbnb, allow the house host to book the tours for you as they have direct contacts to these businesses. But I do recommend not to pre-book the old American car tours. Online prices were average $45 per person, while walking up to them and negotiating they quoted 60 CUC per car (split between 3-4 people in each car) for a city tour and to drop us off at a Restaurant in Del Mar (30-40min out the city).

14. Time is not of the essence in Cuba as it is in America. They are not in a rush to do anything. If you set a time for your taxi to pick you up and you are not ready they will wait on you. You cannot pay to skip the line at the club (trust me we tried to offer $$$), you must wait in line. There is no quick bite to eat as all the food is made to order and the drinks are handcrafted with detail. So, find some patience.

I hope my tips help you and yours enjoy your trip! Follow my group and our tags on IG: @AshleySoUnique @Wolf_of_Peachtree @DrCarlaMoore @Corrien3 @__Jayalessia @_miamor @_meaganh @Supreme.bliss @modernmillennia @teddy_atl @blkgrl_ashley @lala_kki @quinashai_chelette

#SomewhereInCuba #Travel #Habana #Havana #Cuba #Havanacuba #Habanacuba #blacktravel #travelisthenewclub #travelnoire #westaytraveling #weworktotravel #blacktravelfeed #blacktravelgram #jetsettingchicks #travelblacktakeover #travelandleisure

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