Munity-East Building Bridges

Growing Up International

2008-11-21T23:27:00.000-08:00

BY: Brooke Bullock, American School of Doha

Five countries, nine schools, sixteen years, and millions of friends; does that sound familiar to anyone? When you’ve grown up the way I did, you probably know what I mean. I’m only sixteen years old, yet I’ve seen more of the world than all of my family combined. So far I’ve lived in the United States, the United Arab of Emirates, Saudi Arabia, Indonesia, and Qatar. I would never have expected so much when I was born into a small home in Katy, Texas.
My first overseas assignment was the most exciting. Dubai was a giant fantasy land that I was more than happy to explore. I spent the weekends at the indoor amusement park riding the mini rollercoaster and eating too much with friends. At night we all ran around our “fishbowl” neighborhood where the employees from my dad’s company lived.
The true culture shock came with the second assignment. Five months after the 9/11 attacks we moved to Khobar, Saudi Arabia. It was right next to Dubai, yet everything was so different. My mother was required to wear the abaya, a full –length black polyester robe that Muslim women wore and was not allowed to drive. We had to sit in certain sections for women and families at restaurants that were only open between the five different prayer times. Every morning at four o’clock we were awoken by the call to prayer from the mosque next door. Our compound was guarded by men with AK-47s. Our cars were bomb checked before entering school. Our classes practiced lockdowns in case some radical decided to target our school. By December of the same year, however, we were back in Texas because it was simply too dangerous to stay.
Once back in Katy, it was obvious I had been affected by our adventures in and around the Middle East. Texas no longer felt comfortable. Most of my friends had been together since kindergarten and very few had been out of the United States. I was a foreigner in my own hometown. No one wanted to hear my stories about other countries, but they were all I had. My friends had all been talking about past spring vacations where they went to the beach or to Dallas, so I thought I could share, too. “Last spring break when I was in Africa…” I had started, but before I finished the sentence they were glancing at each other and started to get up. The international community had become my home, and quaint Katy didn’t fit the bill anymore.
A year and a half later I was welcomed back to the overseas family. The new assignment was Jakarta, Indonesia and was far from our previously sandy residences. While there, I grew accustomed to having friends from a handful of nations. My closest friends were kids from India, South Africa, Malaysia, Singapore, and Indonesia. I began to pick up cultural oddities from them, and they picked some up from me. I would eat pizza with a fork and knife and I developed a taste for sambal chilies. After a few months my friends were saying, “Ya’ll” like me. Life had become a cultural melting pot that was boiling over with new experiences. All I had to do was soak each one up.
I was not the only one changed by all these experiences. My entire family had developed into multicultural people. Once, when my family was visiting Beijing, I was walking and talking with my father. All around us people were speaking Mandarin while we held a trilingual conversation alternating between Bahasa Indonesia, Spanish, and English. For us, it was entirely normal, but when our family back in Texas heard, they were stunned.
Our latest assignment has taken us to Doha, Qatar. The cultural differences do not take any time to get used to now; even the Friday to Saturday weekend seems normal. Growing up among a diverse group of people in a multitude of schools and situations, I grew accustomed to the quirks and foibles of foreign countries. I know to always wear pants or skirts past my knees when I go out and to keep my crosses and Bible hidden when going through the airport. As weird and insignificant as this may seem, it’s a norm that I don’t even consciously remember.
The wide world will always be my home, and hopefully my own family’s home. After living overseas so long I want to make sure my own children will get the same experiences. There is no way I could deny my future family the adventures that I have already had.

Gwangju Massacre

2008-11-21T17:55:00.000-08:00

BY JOON LEE, KOREA INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL

“I thought I was watching a war movie...”

As a South Korean student, I am privileged to be a participant in THIMUN in Singapore, 2008 and I am aware that this is because others in my country fought for the freedom of speech I enjoy today.
People know of the Tiananmen Massacre in China, but how many people know of the equivalent in Korea? Most of us tend to take benefits for granted. Freedom and democracy are great examples of this. Many of us today underestimate the freedoms democracy offers us as a god-given right and fail to honor and recognize people who sacrificed their lives for it.
As a young student, I take this opportunity to introduce an important turning point in Korea’s history, the Gwangju Massacre, a pivotal event in the struggle to achieve democracy in the country. On May 18th to May 27th of 1980, the people of Gwangju, a major city located about 270 km southwest of Seoul, rose up against the dictatorship and puppet democracy at that time in South Korea, a time when presidents acted like monarchs and people did not have true freedom.
Mr. Kim Bum Soo, a Gwangju citizen who fought for the freedoms democracy offers, freedoms we now take for granted, records his experiences of those days…
In 1980, at the time of the Gwangju Massacre, I was working as a journalist for a small magazine company. I was a 22 year old young man, too busy earning a living to have any interest in politics.
May 18th, 1980 was a Sunday. I knew there was a declaration of state of emergency, but because it had nothing to do with me, I just stayed home relaxing. However, in the afternoon, I heard my neighbors talking about soldiers coming into Gwangju City and beatings of students, both males and females. They warned me not to go out because of chaos in the streets. Soldiers were loading innocent young students onto military trucks and taking them away. I stayed inside.
May 19th Monday morning, I was walking to work. As I approached the intersection of Choongchang 5th and Gumran 5th Streets, I saw young men about my age kneeling on the ground, their hands tied behind their backs, their heads pressed against the cement ground. I was scared. Why were soldiers beating innocent young students?
Later that same day, walking back to my office from an interview, I saw an unbelieveable scene: In between Gumram 2nd Street and 3rd Street, about twenty young men, stripped to their underwear, were being severely beaten by soldiers. They were covered in blood, screaming in pain and calling for help. Soldiers mercilessly beat them with thick sticks, while swearing at them, stepping on them with their heavy military shoes and hitting them with their rifle butts. When a bystander called on the soldiers to stop, they beat him too and arrested him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought I was watching a bloody war movie.
After witnessing the chaos, I went back to my office, near the City Square. That night people began to protest. There were soldiers everywhere, and fearing for my safety, I decided to sleep in the office.
On the morning of Tuesday, May 20th, there was an eerie peace in the streets. But suddenly, in the afternoon, soldiers began indiscriminately beating people in the streets again, men, women, and children. In response, the citizens of Gwangju started to gather in large groups and protest against this cruel injustice, shouting, “Soldiers, leave Gwangju!” and “Apologize to Gwangju citizens!” I heard gunfire that night.
On Wednesday May 21st, two people, rumored to have been killed by the soldiers, were discovered in Gwangju Station. The corpses were loaded on a wagon and were taken to the Province Hall of Jeolanamdo. People began to gather around the Province Hall. Others went around Gwangju and spread the word about the atrocities. In front of the Province Hall, the citizens of Gwangju were lined up face-to-face with the soldiers. The streets were filled with protestors yelling out for justice. As the national anthem played, soldiers opened fire on the crowd of unarmed civilians. With the sound of gunfire, the protestors ran for their lives, as those who were shot just lay on the bloody ground. Those trying to help the injured were themselves shot.
After witnessing this scene, I was terrified and ran toward Gwangju Park, where I saw Gwangju citizens, including students, with guns, rushing towards Province Hall. How could the soldiers shoot their fellow citizens using weapons funded by the taxes paid by their victims? The entire city resonated with the sound of M-16 and carbine rifles.
The morning of May 22nd was quiet. The soldiers had withdrawn. The citizens of Gwangju had come together to form a Resistance Committee. For a time, the stores in Gwangju were open and back to business.
From May 23rd to 26th the streets were quiet.
On the night of May 26th, the Resistance Committee called upon Gwangju citizens to volunteer to protect the city. Together with two friends, I volunteered. We went to the Gwangju YMCA beside the Province Hall where we were given carbine rifles with 30 shells and then we were assigned to guard the overpass leading to Gaerim Elementary School. At 4am, we heard an explosion, accompanied by gunfire. Facing attack from highly trained federal soldiers, we were no match for them. We retreated, without firing a single bullet, but I was caught, arrested and beaten like an animal. The police interrogated me for fourteen hours, asking, “Who is the boss?” and “Who ordered you?” During this questioning, I was again beaten severely.
Later, sentenced to two years in prison for my part in the uprising, I was fortunately released after five months when the court suspended my case.
After the Gwangju Massacre, my life changed dramatically. Returning to College to gain a Masters degree, I was always under police surveillance. After graduation, it was very difficult for me to find a job. Today, everything is settled. I currently work as a government official, and I am always keen to raise awareness of this important massacre.
The Gwangju massacre was an extraordinary time in the development of South Korea as a democatic state because it marked the beginning of a reform of the government and a complete change of ideology.
I belong to a generation who, in the 21st century, are the beneficiaries of the freedoms that those who came before us, fought for. To honor them, we must use our voice at THIMUN in Singapore to pass resolutions to make our world a better place.

Habitat for Humanity: The Teacher's Leader's Perspective

2008-11-21T17:38:00.000-08:00

by Mr. Paul Perron, Korea International School

Here I am standing at passport control at the airport in Dacca airport in Bangladesh and the officer has just told me that he has never heard of the address I have just given him and the 34 students and teachers behind all have the same address because I told them to write it down. No need to panic yet as I was told this might happen, as the place we were headed was remote even by Bangladeshi standards. I was told to smile and tell him that we were the guests of Prince Sanjay and that all of our problems would be solved. I passed this brilliant nugget of information on to the customs officer with total confidence that the fabled Prince Sanjay was our ticket into the nation of Bangladesh. The officer deadpanned back that there are no princes in his nation. I glanced back at the thirty students and four teachers who traveled to this distant land with me believing that I had taken care of everything. I thought, “What should I do now?” as they looked at me with expectant eyes seemingly sure that I had the solution to this dilemma. At that moment the higher-ranking officer standing behind the one “helping” me whispered into the ear of his comrade and a smile broke across each man’s face. As I looked at them pleadingly the original officer then said, “Oh, except in that area of the nation. Welcome to Bangladesh.”
Why does a sane person take thirty high school students to the poorest corners of planet earth? Dealing with flights, visas and parental concerns every step of the way. Why wouldn’t he spend his vacation time with his beautiful wife on a tropical beach drinking fruity concoctions with umbrellas in them? Why doesn’t he stick to places where the toilets flush the roads have sidewalks and the roosters don’t serve as alarm clocks? What causes the entire group to take a trip where all will get filthy, labor until muscles they didn’t even know they had ache, and eat dinners that you watched your host kill an hour earlier? Had I, had indeed all of these travelers, lost our collective minds? What could possibly make the hours of fundraising money that will be 100% given away, and the lectures about beds without mattresses and warnings to bring medicines and bug spray all worth while? The answer is a simple desire to help those who, though less fortunate, are no less deserving of a better life. To give to someone who will never ever forget what we shared and did for them. Another reason for me is to teach young people lessons that no classroom could ever hope to. The reason is to build houses with an organization that has gotten the concept of helping people to help themselves right. What I’m talking about here is the incredible organization called Habitat for Humanity.
I have always felt that my life has been blessed with innumerable gifts. I have also discovered that each gift I have given has been repaid to me many fold. As a lifetime educator I have dedicated much of who I am to giving the gift of higher level learning experiences to my students. The non-tangible rewards I have received are greater than several lifetimes deserve. During my career I have discovered that real life experiences are not only the ones that teach the most but also teach at the deepest levels of understanding. These are the experiences that touch the heart and soul as well as stimulate the student intellectually. Working with my fellow teachers and our amazing students on Habitat for Humanity trips I have had the penultimate experience of my long career. The trip alone to a foreign land is a multi-curricular dream classroom. Traveling to a foreign with Habitat for Humanity gives the trip much more intensity, focus, purpose and meaning. Building the house with not only the local materials and local people, but with the future homeowners themselves allows us to experience what this house, however simple to us, means to them. During our time there we interact with local school children and their teachers, we meet local dignitaries and others of notoriety in the area. On the Bangladesh trip our local base (the YMCA) became playground central while we were there as young people from about five years old to their mid-teens came to share time with us each evening after we finished working. No trip can get you more involved with the community, pass on good intentions and promote intercultural awareness than a Habitat for Humanity trip does.
Finally, what cannot be emphasized enough is all of the multi-curricular skills and knowledge used and gained by using the local resources while taking into account the local conditions (both physical and cultural) as you and your students build a house from below ground level up. Teaching has always been and profession of love for me and my very best teaching has always taken place in an atmosphere of student involvement and independent thought on their part. On a Habitat trip I am constantly aware of the growing and expanding of my students minds, spirits and hearts as they go through the process of building the house. The next time I find myself in a foreign land confronted by a bureaucratic stumbling block with thirty anxious young people counting on me to solve it, I will smile and work my way through it as I know that my students and fellow teachers (more so myself) are about to embark upon a life fulfilling experience beyond compare as we are about to build houses for Habitat for Humanity.

Habitat for Humanity

2008-11-21T17:37:00.000-08:00

By Susie Youn, Korea International School

Early in the morning on the second day of the week, we woke up to go visit a few places before heading out to the building site. As we went down the wobbly road in the mini vehicle, I looked out the window to see a two-square-foot store, homes without roofs and doorways, people sitting on the asphalt ground chatting with each other. And then I saw a scooter with six feet dangling on its sides. When I looked up to see the feet’s owners, I was startled. There were three girls who appeared to be around my age, dressed in school uniforms and holding onto each other’s backs. They were on their way to school. Back at my school, most students either rode the school bus or got a ride from their parents -- some even had their own drivers. Although I knew that the people of Bang Na, Thailand, lived in poverty, it was strange to directly witness the immense difference between the lives of the Thai people and of mine. This was merely the start of my Habitat for Humanity (HFH) trip.
My history with HFH started when I joined the club as a sophomore. HFH, founded by Jimmy Carter, is a nonprofit organization aimed at eliminating poverty and homelessness all around the world. In my school, Korea International School (KIS), about 30 students go on this annual trip as a group to build houses for the needy. That particular year, our school traveled to Bang Na, Thailand, a place where a tsunami had hit and destroyed the homes of many families. It was my first and most memorable HFH experience.
I thought the HFH trip was only going to involve building houses. However, we also had the chance to become unified with the community. One afternoon, after making bricks, we visited a local elementary school. The children all came out to greet us, waving their hands high in the air. Seeing their bright smiles, I assumed that their school was one in good condition with sufficient school supplies and books. In reality, it was quite the contrary - the school was in an utterly poor condition. It was a one-floor building that was not painted, decorated, nor polished at all. The interior of the classrooms was even worse. A chalkboard with some desks was all that sat there and the children had one or two books, if any. I was baffled at how the children could be so happy and grateful when they had almost nothing. We could barely communicate with each other because of the language barrier, but we still gradually became closer as we participated together in activities such as soccer and Frisbee. After spending a few hours with them, I felt as if all of them were my little brothers and sisters. Before we left, they got our signature as “souvenirs” and bid us farewell with their sweet, unforgettable smiles.
The more I thought about the children we met, the more eager I was to build the houses. The process - making liquid cement, building the bricks from scratch, and stacking the brick walls - was difficult. But even in the hot and sticky weather, we all worked hard because we knew that we were making a difference. The owner-to-be of the house came with his family to the working site to help us. Men, women and children all helped us physically, but most importantly, mentally. While working, they talked, laughed and smiled at us. Even though we did not understand each other, we could still “communicate” through gestures and visual signs. They acted as our energy sources. The work was arduous and difficult, but its value far exceeded its trials. We were rewarded for the work not only with the happiness of the people, but also with the night off in the city.
We went to the Phuket market beside the beach and ate an amazing festive Thai dinner. The adventure at the market was another memorable experience. I was able to see such a variety of products that represented Thai tradition. Although I had fun in the city, I could not help but think of the young students and Bang Na people.
It is still that way today. Whenever I think of them, a smile crawls onto my face. The emotion, the fruitfulness that one gets from a HFH experience is indescribable. Even though senior year is quite busy, I still chose to join and lead the group as the club president this year because I know that the time spent on HFH would be nothing compared to what we will ultimately earn from it. Not only did I gain unforgettable and touching memories, but at the same time I was able to give aid and hope to the deserving people. I recommend that everyone participate in Habitat for Humanity at least once in his or her lifetime, though once was not enough for me.

Perpetuating the MUN spirit

2007-11-23T21:11:00.001-08:00

By Mary Cheng

Strolling on the grass lawn littered by colorful leaves on the Tufts campus, I am more determined than ever to find what I want from life. I am here so that I can make a difference. MUN brought me to Tufts University. It has also brought me to many other places around the world. I traveled halfway around the globe to the Netherlands to attend THIMUN, flew to China for BEIMUN, and to Singapore for THIMUN-Singapore. Each conference is a unique and memorable experience. BEIMUN was the first MUN conference that I had ever attended in my life. I began my MUN career as the delegate of Colombia in the Human Rights Forum and continued in the two following BEIMUN conferences as the Assistant President of Special Conference. BEIMUN was small enough to give new participants an opportunity to speak, yet large enough to give the veterans the challenge of addressing issues at a deeper level. I feel that this conference was where I experienced the most intensive debates. It was exhilarating to see people so engaged and passionate about improving the world. The trip to THIMUN XXXVII in the Hague with AST English teacher Mrs. Stein and a group of six students, representing delegates of the Palestinian National Authority, was fascinating despite the intensive research we had to do. The training at Mr. and Mrs. Stein’s apartment every Sunday morning proved intense and sometimes quite terrifying. The moment we would arrive and put our research folders on the sofa, Ms. Stein would start bombing us with questions about Yasser Arafat, the Fatah, and the Israelis. THIMUN was huge and intimidating to me at first, especially when I represented the delegate of the PNA, fighting for the rights of the Palestinians repressed by the Israelis. However, I felt more confident once I found my allies. What was really exciting about this trip was that the conference was actually held in the World Forum Convention Center, where many international conferences are held. It made MUN even more true to life. My first THIMUN-Singapore, unfortunately, also happened to be my last. The first impression that I had of the conference was that it was very welcoming. As the president of ECOSOC, I, along with my co-chairs, led a forum of about 200 delegates. This leadership opportunity was challenging, yet valuable, because that was the first time that I was in charge of a big forum in a foreign place. The lobbying day was a bit stressful when I and co-presidents were running around between the approval panel and the secretary, trying to make sure that resolutions were ready for debate. I couldn’t even remember how many times I got lost in the huge and mazelike conference. However, the fruitful debate and the productive delegates made this all worthwhile. I have always felt closest to TAIMUN because it was where my MUN career started. I acted as either a chair or Secretary General there for four years. Because my high school, American School in Taichung, hosts the event, I was able to get involved in every way, from secretary training to dinner party planning. TAIMUN is a small two day conference with approximately 50 delegates in each of the 3 forums. A security council was added last year for a more challenging group of delegates. TAIMUN gave MUN participants an immense opportunity to shine. What distinguishes TAIMUN from all the other MUN conferences that I had been to is the Crisis Simulation with all the delegates before the closing ceremony. The advisors and secretaries general cooperated on the crisis issue, which was announced unexpectedly during the debates. Countries immediately involved in the issue were called to a crisis session to come up with a few clauses for debate during the simulation. This improvised debate excited MUN participants and really spiced up the conference. MUN conferences show me how politics is entangled and that it takes a lot of courage and time to try to change the world. Through countless debates, I realized that complaints are not going to bring us anywhere unless suggestions are raised and constructive actions are taken. The world’s problems are also our problems because we are not living alone. All the MUN debates about poverty and human rights have made me start to ask, Why do I deserve more than others? I also realize how lucky I am to be able to receive an education and be so well taken care of at home.MUN education has also engraved in me a stronger love for the place where I live. I want to be active, not passive. Although I am not directly part of the MUN team in university, I am still in related activities such as Required Reading which is a campus publication that calls for awareness of global problems, and several community service groups. I also feel that I have a greater responsibility for society. The MUN spirit is something that I will take with me wherever I go in the future.

Juicy executive gives juicy advice

2007-11-23T21:09:00.001-08:00

Pat Yang, edited by Raymond Chuang

As the president of Chia Meei, a juice-processing company that distributes products such as concentrates to numerous brands around the globe, I have observed some characteristics in our business partners that are crucial not only to the development of commercial affairs but to our everyday human relationships. From Chia Meei’s work with companies of the various nations, we have learned that companies of different cultures must be approached differently. Learning from these successful commercial relationships, we can apply what we know on a deeper level to respecting and understanding differences of cultures in everyday life. From our observations, the Japanese are a polite people who take pride in being detailed. The high reputation of today’s products labeled “Made in Japan” reflect their organized, obedient, and meticulous ways that have developed over the centuries from ancient Samurai culture. Exploiting these cultural strengths commercially, the Japanese have consistently pursued and achieved both wealth and fame. Through our impression of the Koreans, we see that their culture thinks highly of Confucian philosophy; thus, they emphasize not only on respect for their seniors, but for their peers as well. From my experience of their loyalty and filialness, I have found that most Koreans consistently choose Made-in-Korea brands over those produced in other nations in spite of compelling reasons to do otherwise. Overall, we can say that Koreans are patriotic people who pay great attention both to relationships within their own families and to their business connections. Situated in the heartland of the Indo-China Peninsula between China and India, Buddhist Thailand has for many centuries served as the gathering place for different races, religious groups, and cultures of South East Asia. To incorporate the wide variety of people of their nation, Thailand has developed a distinctive hospitality and warmth that is well known to both international businessmen and tourists. The country’s tendency to temper difficult situations with extreme courtesy, smiles, and optimism has been one of their strongest and most appreciated characteristics. Additionally, from our experience we see the Thai’s “openness” from our commercial affairs. These business partners’ simplicity and honesty are undoubtedly encouraged and promoted by the nation’s venerated, royal family. In the early days of Chia Meei’s business relationships within the Thai market, however, language barriers made communication an arduous task. Through both Chia Meei’s and the Thai companies’ genial perseverance, our relationships ultimately matured and broke our linguistic estrangement.Finally, from relationships with companies in the United States, we have learned to appreciate their emphasis on pursuing justice and freedom. Consistently, the United States has proved to be innovative in technological advancements. The Americans have created in our business dealings an impression of creativity, adventure, and sometimes even heroism—qualities that have pushed them far ahead economically in the world today.Each culture and nation has numerous qualities we can admire and emulate—characteristics that we can appreciate and learn from not merely for business but for enhancing the quality of our relationships with our neighbors, friends, and colleagues. We can learn to be more detailed and meticulous in our work to better ourselves as the Japanese have done to become so successful at globalization. While aiming for good relationships with the international community, we can, like Korea, stick to our own ideals of patriotism and concerns about local politics. We can learn to think outside the box and to venture intellectually and creatively beyond memorizing answers and becoming test machines. Instead, we can fight for our beliefs as the Americans have done to dominate the world economy. Emulating the American’s imaginativeness, we can improve ourselves and rise and expand to a newer level that is much more important even than making money in a large juice provider company.

United Nations: An Untouchable Dream

2007-11-22T19:00:00.000-08:00

By Charlie Yu, translated by Tom Shih

"MUN? What is MUN?” I asked my grandson. Although he tried to explain what MUN is, I still don’t have a clue. However, he got the conversation going when he asked about my past. Looking back in time, I thought of the being recruited into the Japanese Imperial Army. I was only nineteen, fresh out of high school. I was going into the army because it was mandatory to serve Japan, even though I’m Taiwanese. I was sent to fight with the artillery corps along with twelve reluctant companions. We didn’t know where we were going or what we were going to do. As I approached the artillery, my destiny was decided. Either I die or my “enemies” die. One of the most frightening battles was in Keelung, a city on the northeast coast of Taiwan. It was a serene morning, and I believed that it would just be another peaceful day. I was wrong. At 0400 hours 60 American aircraft approached, and I knew that was my judgment day because either I would live through this bombardment or I would die. Our commander told my twelve companions and me to prepare the anti-aircraft gun and be ready to fight this day of glory. “Fire!” my commander shouted, and my companion and I aimed for an American aircraft. We shot it down. The Americans in return bombed Keelung, and the whole scene was like hell. Buildings crumbled into pieces, and people lay lifeless on the ground. One of the AA guns a few meters next to mine was bombed. I saw my friends blown to pieces. I thought to myself, What do I live for? This is a war that I despised, yet I still had to fight because I had to fight for “my country”? The battle raged for two hours, and finally ended as the Americans retreated. I survived, and I thought to myself, What a day! A couple of months later, I heard on the radio that Japan had surrendered, and I became extremely exhilarated that this war finally ended. As my grandson asked me about the question of Taiwan’s admission into the UN, I thought to myself, Is it possible? No, it is a dream that will never happen. I have three reasons that Taiwan will not join the UN: economic, political and the threat of war, and the international community. Even though I believe that Taiwan should join the UN, I think that Taiwan should focus more on its domestic issues rather than joining the UN. As I see on television everyday, Taiwanese political parties fight each other about unimportant issues or trivial matters such as Taiwan’s bid to join the UN, but each time they fight, Taiwan falls deeper into an abyss. People in Taiwan are suffering economically. Unemployment, the crime rate, and suicides are increasing dramatically at an unimaginable rate. If Taiwan cannot get itself out of its economic and social problems, then pretty soon things will fall apart. These days the Taiwanese economy is unstable, so I believe that the government should revive the economy instead of talk about the UN. Moreover, if Taiwan’s economy revives, then it may be that the international community may pay attention to our nation and support us in our efforts to join the UN. Secondly, the political issue means that Taiwanese Independence (which acceptance by the UN would formalize for the international community) may provoke China to obliterate Taiwan with missiles. As a WWII veteran, I could not bear to see Taiwan through another war. Have any one of you experienced missiles falling from the sky like rain? Have any of you seen one of your friends blown up into pieces in front of you? Or have any of you seen the horror on a civilian face as he runs and wails for survival? Think about it for a moment. Put yourself in my shoes, and think about what would happen to you if you were me in that battle in Keelung. War is a serious matter. It is not a game. The price of war is too costly because nobody wins.The third and final reason is the international community. There are few countries that have diplomatic ties with Taiwan, which shows that Taiwan is weak in the international community. Most of the nations in the world right now believe in the One China Policy, and this is the way it will be for a very long time. As I see it, if Taiwan cannot gain enough support from the international community, there is no point for Taiwan to join the UN. The UN is an unachievable dream for Taiwan. The future of Taiwan is uncertain, but I hope that the status quo will remain. The alternative is reunification. If Taiwan is going to reunite with China, then it should be a Special Administrative Region (SAR), like Hong Kong or Macao. I hope by writing this article, I will not offend anyone who believes Taiwan should join the UN. I write purely from my observation and experience about what I think is best for Taiwan’s future.

The Evolution of Mind

2007-11-22T18:57:00.000-08:00

By Tom Shih

“Will the house come to order?” shouted one of the chairs attending BEIMUN XII. As this was my first MUN experience I had no idea what he meant. Because I didn’t know what was going on, I followed what the others were doing, and sat down quietly. As the chair took role, my heart was filled with excitement, but little did I know that I was a naive rabbit jumping into the brutal MUN jungle where ravenous delegates were ready to hunt and consume my inane, benign being. I made a speech defending a resolution, but in the end my ideas were torn apart by the delegates’ points of information, leaving me with low self-esteem and a feeling of insignificance. “What happened,” I wondered, “Did I fail as a delegate because I’m not as capable as the other participants? What did the successful delegates know that I didn’t?” I struggled with these thoughts for two days, and finally discovered that the key to success is to remain true to who you are.You may incorrectly assume that representing your country is more important than representing yourself as a whole. Obviously, it is important to have similar beliefs and ideas as those of the people you are representing, but it’s necessary to remember that your thoughts and ideas are just as important and valid. Each individual possesses a unique mentality for solving global issues that makes his or her proposal necessary. Individual contributions unite us in an international community where real world issues are solved. Instead of asking what your country can do for you, ask what can you do for your country. As soon as I came to this conclusion—this formula to being a successful delegate—I realized that I was entering a new way of thinking.This new insight not only made me a better delegate, but I also began to realize the role I played as a member of the global community. I made a conscious decision to change my ways and become a proactive environmentalist by becoming more environmentally conscious. I took notice of the negative effect our generation has had on mother earth, and I gradually began to change my wasteful ways by recycling, using ecologically - friendly products, and conserving natural resources such as water and electricity. I also became more aware and knowledgeable about the detriments of war. Before participating in MUN, I was conditioned by Hollywood to believe the glitz and glamour of war. The thought of using weaponry in lieu of words to solve conflict was greatly romanticized by media. I had accepted this manner of thinking until I joined MUN. After hearing about the horrors of war in different countries during these conferences, I began to condemn war in every form and fashion. I began to grasp the immense concept and detriments of war, such as death, poverty, and starvation. I realized the only consequences of war are more hatred towards our offenders and greater agony within our souls. My grandpa considers war a hellish ordeal, relentless and desolate, “…because nobody can save you from [the horrors of war].” Experience of such realizations and adjustments to our frame of mind are why it is essential that we put our ideas into your resolutions and speeches. We do affect others thinking at MUN.Though as individuals, the results of our actions may seem minimal, however, as a unified populace with similar goals, the effects of our collective actions can help to create a better world for future generations and every human being on earth today. It’s vital to remember to refuse the negative conformities of the world and live our lives to the fullest with conviction and verve.

Major Events, or Major Headaches?

2007-11-21T20:18:00.001-08:00

By Phil Vandyke
You’d think going to a major world sporting event like the FIFA World Cup 2006 in Germany would be a fun experience, an exciting chance to visit a foreign country and maybe even take advantage of being in Central Europe to see a few other countries, as long as you’re there. You know. So, you would imagine that being there would be one of those experiences in your life that you would not want to forget, right? Well, let me tell you, my friend, that you could not be more mistaken. Massive crowds. Peculiar people. People gathering in random open spaces playing loud and obnoxious songs about God-only-knows-what. People buying anything and everything that peddlers sell -- stuff like shirts, hats, and metric tons of plastic trinkets that, you know as well as I, will get tossed in the garbage bin once they get home. The craziest things that people bought were these big German flags or shirts with German flags on them. These people weren’t German! Can you imagine buying the flag of a foreign country for yourself? I mean, that’s akin to treason in some countries, isn’t it? Is this unpatriotic or just uninhibited behavior?When I first arrived in Germany I could barely see where to go because of all the signs and banners waving along the roads. Boy, those Germans seemed really proud to have this event taking place in their country. It was as if they really liked this game called soccer (or football as it’s also known in a few parts of the world). But one word of advice to you Germans out there who might be reading this: at least, you should be good at the sport before you flout its arrival at your doorstep. Try being a humble host since you obviously don’t have much history in the game. (Oh, by the way, someone just told me that Germany has won the WC championship three times. Ok, I was wrong - sorry.) But the New York Yankees baseball team has won the World Series championship 26 times. So there. Ok, Ok, so “World” series might be a misnomer. . . Ok, so I’m zooming along in my rented BMW (a terribly designed vehicle by the way – the darn thing ran so quietly that I sometimes forgot it was on and tried to start it while it was running – they should work on that) on the these roads that didn’t seem to have any speed limit. Something called the Autobahn. It must be kind of famous because there certainly were lots of other drivers using it, and they were apparently quite comfortable with the “no speed limit” rule. I even tried it on an occasion or two. In fact one time I was speeding along for a full 15 minutes with the accelerator pedal completely floored, going about 240kpm. For 15 minutes! What lunatic lawlessness! If I even attempted such an irresponsible maneuver in America I’d be lucky just to get ticketed. More likely, I’d get hauled away to jail. And deservedly so. But, luckily, in America we don’t need police to prevent people from making such colossal speeding errors. The bumps and potholes in the roads would immediately catapult your car flying into the nearest ditch, effectively taking care of the speeding problem. Anyway, when I arrived at one of the host cities, like Leipzig, Frankfurt, or Stuttgart, right away I would be confronted with what seemed like a swarm of policemen just getting in the way of the traffic and rerouting it this way and that. Probably at random, too, just to spite us, I felt sure. They couldn’t have been doing anything less useful. I somehow made to the stadium area (By lucky chance the directions those policemen gave me worked, but I’m sure it was only because I was driving a German car) and was immediately surrounded by throngs of frenzied soccer fans. This soccer business really gets a grip on these people and turns them into crazy madmen. They seemed happy and frolicky, but I’m sure that if you took all the sport, drinking, singing, dancing, music, friendly groups, and picture taking away, they would probably not be enjoying it nearly as much. For example, after one game in Leipzig, (which was a pretty good game I’ll admit, except that there was no fighting like in ice hockey, on or off the field, probably because of, again, all the meddling police walking around) suddenly all the emotion from the fans of the losing team evaporated. See what I mean? Once their team lost, it just wasn’t fun anymore, and they only wanted to get the heck out of there. Well, there might have been a handful of them – just a couple -- who were good sports and let themselves be dragged out for a beer or two to drown their sorrows. Meanwhile, the fans of the winning team raced to the pubs, and they couldn’t sing loudly enough, even though they tried. It was me and about 50,000 strangers, all trying to get into the same bars or clubs or just a small table at one of the many, many outdoor cafes. The pain of the loss had obviously disturbed the visitor’s ability to make sound judgments because suddenly there they were, at it again with their songs and dancing and taking pictures of complete strangers – people they had been yelling at only moments before. You could barely walk in the crowds without bumping into people, each one happier than the last. There was so much commotion, even when I was ready to sleep at 3:00AM, I couldn’t sleep. With all the noise in every city, it was the same. You’ve got to hand it to the Germans. They made everyone feel like they were enjoying themselves, even when I know they really weren’t. In reality, it was a sad and forgettable ordeal. You’d have to be crazy to go to one of those things. By the way, does anyone know where I can get a ticket to the Olympics?

Don’t be an International Ignoramus

2007-11-21T20:17:00.000-08:00

By Shally Lin

On the day of my freshman orientation at Boston College, I told a parent that I was from Taiwan. He replied, “You can tell us if the Thai food here is authentic!” I was deeply offended by this parent’s remark, and he felt terribly embarrassed when I explained that I was from Taiwan, and not Thailand. Having had four years of experience in the MUN program and having studied at an American School, I’ve never realized the importance of being aware of the international community. Until that day, I had always assumed that everyone simply knew what was going in the rest of the globe – or, at least, had some sense of geography. It never occurred to me that people failed to pay attention to what was occurring outside of their own state, or even their own town. A couple days after this, a friend of mine informed me that her classmate had always thought typhoons came from Taiwan, due to the similarities in the Chinese character for the two words. It is through these two events that, suddenly, I realized the impact of Model United Nations on students around the world, and its importance in educating them about the greater community. Shocked, I was unaware that such a faux-pas would happen in the United States of America – a country known as a melting pot of cultures and ethnicities. I was surprised, too, to learn that many Americans did not own passports, as they do not feel the need to travel abroad. Though financial difficulties and other factors may come into play, most feel that, quite simply, America is big enough for them to explore. Still surprising, however, is the lack of awareness and that many do not attempt to educate themselves beyond their fishbowl environment. For example, few students feel the need to read or watch international or domestic news on a daily basis. Just last month, a “Cluster Bomb Survival Panel” was hosted by the Asian Caucus at Boston College. Survivors spoke of their tragic experience in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. At the time, the U.S. conducted a covert attack, dropping cluster bombs on their adversaries. To this day, the unexploded bombs continue to take the lives of many and, despite such detrimental ramifications, the States continue to supply these cluster bombs to countries such as Israel, who have used this weapon in its dispute in Lebanon. The panel was a truly educational experience and an excellent opportunity to broaden one’s mindset. Despite its importance, however, only a small percentage of students attended this event. This caused me much disappointment as it confirmed my beliefs that students rarely attempt to go out of their way to reach the world beyond their doorstep. Though technology advances with each day, and information is more readily accessible, many are still oblivious to the world around them and they make no attempt to rectify this. The Model United Nations program seeks to remedy this lack of understanding and encourages students to overcome this knowledge gap. Each and every delegate extensively researches their topic of debate and hoards an arsenal of knowledge regarding countries around the world. At each of the eight MUN conferences that I have attended – both as an officer and a delegate – I collaborated with delegates and also observed them as they toiled to create the perfect resolution to solve their world issue. In Security Council, I watched as delegates delved deeply into the topic of nuclear weaponry, while in the General Assembly, delegates dealt with issues such as human rights and gender equality. The contrast between those who were internationally aware and those who were not was extreme. Imagine what a MUN conference would be like if the delegates or the officers thought Taiwan was Thailand, or that Canada was a part of the United States? Harking back to my somewhat enlightening experiences at Boston College, I am reminded of another such event – Student Activities Day. I was disappointed and appalled not to see a Taiwanese Students Association. Because of this, my friends Louisa Chao and Natalie Chin got together and spoke of starting such an association at BC to educate the students regarding the unique culture and other aspects of Taiwan. However, progress for this endeavor has been slow because of political issues and claims of the similarities of a Chinese Students Association and a Taiwanese Students Association. Consequently, we realized that our club’s success would be a slow process. When I told Louisa and Natalie about that Taiwan/Thailand confusion, they laughed and nodded in agreement, exclaiming that they too have encountered similar remarks. I never imagined that this was actually a common mix-up. In retrospect, I value my MUN experience as I come to realized that it has helped me to become more aware of the international community and global issues today, and it has taught me not to make such ignorant remarks.The world has experienced an explosion of knowledge, but not a corresponding growth in understanding. By the end of THIMUN-Singapore III, I anticipate that everyone will have learned something new about this world that we all call home. Each conference, we raise our awareness and we become better educated and more prepared for the future. Perhaps then, this is the most important aspect of the conference: the knowledge gained from your MUN experience. After participating in one conference you may realize that now, you know where Qatar is. After another, you may realize that your endless hours of research was not in vain, as you now truly sympathize and understand the issues which you have been debating for days on end. Or perhaps, after your experience, you simply find that you seem to sound much more intelligent in front of others and one day, when you attend your child’s freshman orientation at college, you will be comforted knowing that you will not humiliate yourself by confusing Thailand with Taiwan.

Cultural Roots, Cultural Differences

2007-11-20T18:33:00.000-08:00

By Moronke Ogundele
James Ogundele came to the United States to go to college and to start a family. Coming from Nigeria in his late twenties, he settled in Morgantown, WV, where he attended school and where three of his children were born. Soon after he finished school, this family, my family, moved to Corning, NY, where a fourth child, another girl, joined me and my two older brothers to form my current immediate family. Throughout my childhood my parents enfolded us with the Nigerian culture. They always felt, and still feel, the importance of our holding a connection to our roots. Though my siblings and I never learned the native tongue, we ate the foods, heard the music, and owned some of the clothing. Our parents raised us as Nigerians as much as they could. They made sure that though we were born and raised in America, we were Nigerian by nature and nurture. However, with our being born in America, my siblings and I were often faced with culture clashes between what we experienced inside versus outside of the home. One of the primary differences between Nigeria and the United States is the general treatment of women. In both cultures women are seen as inferior. However, how this ‘inferior’ status translates into action is what differs. In Nigeria being a woman does not mean being without respect. In general, the idea of respecting elders plays a very strong part in this culture, and thus mother and aunts are often held in higher regard than in America. The idea that a mother or aunt may not have an education or may not work does not make her less important. On the other hand, in America, women who stay in the home, “housewives,” are frequently seen as second class. This is mostly due to the fact that in the American culture, value in a family is awarded to those who provide the financial income, and is withheld from those who keep it together, as a housewife would. The hard work done at home does not translate into importance because this work is not bringing in income.Despite the fact that women in Nigeria may seem to be more highly regarded in general than American women, one factor that sets the two groups apart is education. Currently my life has being focused on my education, but would it have been if I had lived in Nigeria? In general, before addressing any gender discrepancies, it is important to realize that in general Nigeria is lacking in quality of education and availability of it. Though there are many agencies within Nigeria working to increase the access to and quality of education for all, there has been little change. Despite this, the numbers for the ratio of gender attendance in the United States and Nigeria are reversed. In America, the number of females is beginning to overtake the number of males who attend colleges and universities. This movement is bringing more women into the workforce than ever before, and is countering past trends. Nigeria’s situation is much different, and the numbers of females in higher education is minuscule at best. According to UNICEF, of all women in the country, a mere 56 percent of females are able to read. The main cause for this discrepancy is due to women marrying at an early age, which often goes hand in hand with teen pregnancy. This keeps females from excelling in education and thus from excelling in the workforce. It seems clear that I am reaping the benefits of having grown up in the United States. In general, people in the United States benefit from the availability and quality of education that they are presented with. However, despite higher numbers of women in higher education, the business world is still predominantly a boys club, keeping women from embracing and enjoying the educational gains they have made, and this is one fact that I am being faced with now. The glass ceiling in effect remains un-cracked in the United States despite the fact that it is getting less publicity. Women still trail men in the number of CEOs, Presidents, and other top employees due to gender biases, and now more than ever, with the fact that more women attend higher education institutes at a higher rate than men, it is clear that the bias and discrimination persists. However, the gap is narrower than it has been in years, prompting many women to keep working hard. It is important for me and many other females of Nigerian descent in the United States to realize how different the lives we’ve lead in United States would be compared to what we’d face in Nigeria. I wonder, ‘Would I be in college now, looking to work as a Physical Therapist if I lived in Nigeria?’ When having this realization, it seems more important now than ever before to embrace the fact that I am working to bring pride to not only myself, but to my country because I know that I am, at heart, a Nigerian. In essence, I am having the realization that I must use the benefits of living in the United States and translate them to benefits for my home country of Nigeria. By overcoming gender inequalities in the United States, I hope to be able see women in Nigeria do the same and close the gap created by these disparities.

MUN—a Different Meaning?

2007-11-20T18:30:00.000-08:00

By Dr. David Uerkvitz
“What? Write an article for the Model United Nations? Moi? I’m a pianist, not a diplomat!”This was my reaction when I was asked to write this article. But then I began to think about how important music is to all the peoples of the world, and thought, “Well, why not?”Many years ago, Colin Turnbull wrote a book called The Mountain People about a tribe in Africa called the Ik, a tribe that had been displaced so its land could be included in a National Park.Turnbull reported that the children of this tribe were left on their own at the age of three to work in bands in order to survive. He also reported about the complete lack of caring and compassion amongst that depraved society. Old people were left to go out into the wilderness to die when they were no longer productive. He saw no evidence of any kind of music in that tribe.Is that what happens to a culture with no music? Although subsequent to the publishing of his book, Turnbull’s research was called into question, many of his points and observations were valid, and the book caused me to ask myself if the complete depravity of that tribe was somehow related to the lack of music in their lives and in their souls. No music: no soul.When the Ayatollah Khomeini took absolute power in Iran, in 1979, he forbade any kind of music to be played or sung. The country went completely and fanatically out of control. I taught piano to two college girls who had escaped the regime. They loved music, but had been forbidden to study it, even though their older brother was a pianist. They were desperately hungry just to produce some simple music themselves. Does a society bereft of music lose its sanity as well as its soul? Let’s take a quick look at music and its connection to individuals and to the universe.Saying that music is the “international language” is not only trite, it is completely inadequate in what it is meant to express. Oral language is the language of the mind, and through its use it can reach the heart. Music is directly the language of the heart and soul, and immediately touches the depth of human feeling and existence.When we think of the breadth of music, we find it encompasses the entire globe, crossing all political boundaries, cultural differences and linguistic barriers. It has a magnificently broad scope of styles, from hip-hop to the timeless classics; from tribal music to Broadway theater. Its fabric is multi-dimensional in that it not only spreads geographically across the world; it touches all levels of society, and reaches back for centuries.For example, if we were to follow one simple thread in this multi-dimensional tapestry of musical sound, we might choose Gregorian chant, which was the backbone of religious worship in the Roman Catholic Church for centuries. Although it was organized and codified in the sixth century under Pope Gregory, it reaches far into antiquity for its origins in Ancient Hebrew and Greek music. If we follow that string, we find that its modal structure highly influenced the music of Spain, and is heard in flamenco and other Spanish national music. Spanish music spread to the New World, and combined with African modes and rhythms. One center of this synthesis of styles was Havana, Cuba, from which sprang the Habanera. This, in turn, split, some of it heading northward toward New Orleans, and the other South to Argentina. The Habanera developed in Argentina as the Tango. In New Orleans it became the inspiration for jazz and blues, and eventually R&B [rhythm and blues], rock and hip-hop. Every piece of music reflects not only the inspiration of the composer, but the influence of the society which produced it. If we know the music of a society, we become closer to understanding that society and its culture. The more we leave ourselves open to all musics—the here-today, gone-tomorrow music of the pops scene, opera performances, Andean flute music, the Balinese gamelan or the calypso of the Caribbean--the richer our lives can be, and the closer our relationship to other people. Open the mind’s blinds and unplug the ears! Break out of the
“top twenty”! The world of music is available everywhere through CDs, iPods, and whatever technology is going to throw at us next. And, naturally, it’s more exciting to go to where the music is produced to hear it live. Can you perform? Do it live, or put it on YouTube or something and do it well! A musical ambassador should not produce tacky, cheap performances. Top-notch music will bridge the gap between cultures where poor quality will only build barriers. Let’s have more music! Perhaps music can unite us where words cannot. Why not a Musical United Nations?