Matador Network's Blog, page 2068
August 20, 2015
How to humiliate yourself in Tennessee
Photo: Kevin O’Mara
Throw a non-football related event on Game Day.
Party, wedding, baby shower, funeral, whatever — unless you’ve decked the halls with orange and glued the television screen on the game, you’ll probably end up alone in the company of platters upon platters of untouched pigs-in-blankets while everyone else is getting shit-faced and slurring ‘Rocky Top’ at top volume somewhere down the road.
Neglect to wave back at someone.
Sure, it may take some getting used to when a total stranger drives past and waves while your dog takes a dump in the yard. But fair warning — ignore the gesture just once and get blacklisted by the whole neighborhood, your questionable morals and hospitality becoming a hot topic of conversation at the supper table for at least the next four months.
Be a vegetarian amongst a clan of carnivores.
There are two options for vegetarians here — having a bare Styrofoam plate at family reunions or risk eating something only to find out later it was soaked in chicken broth or fried in pork fat. Either way, you’ll have Aunt Irene henpecking you to eat your daily meat and three or be forced to discreetly spit a bacon bit-littered blob of green bean casserole into your napkin. Inevitably, someone will see this move and you’ll forever be the crowned winner of “mmm…bacon!” jokes for the rest of your life.
Forget your manners at home.
Think reaching your 20s means you’ve found the golden ticket to say whatever the hell you want to whomever you please? Go on and reap the repercussions from the Southern hospitality gods by saying “yeah” to someone with grey in their hair or slipping silently through a door that’s being held open for you.
C’mon. Mind your manners, y’all.
Complain about the tea being too sweet.
“Oh, it’s too sweet? Here, let me fix that for you.” *dumps another mound of sugar in your glass
Complain about the chicken not being hot enough.
Go on and sink your teeth in some mildly seasoned hot chicken and let your ego blow up bigger than your pain receptors. Per request, we’ll gladly upgrade your dry rub since you’re such a badass until you’re coughing violently, soaked in sweat, and turned beet red. Seriously – that hot chicken is no joke.
Skip your thank you notes.
It doesn’t matter if you got $400 for graduation or a horse sweater for your birthday.
Between getting the mail and seeing her in person next, you only have a tiny window of time to write a thank you note before you can kiss Aunt Irene’s Christmas presents (and a chunk of her love) goodbye for the next three years.
Refuse to say y’all.
Seriously — what’s a “youse”?
Not knowing what a Coke means.
Go on and nip this painful conversation in the bud when dining out:
“Can I get a Coke?”
“Sure, what kind?”
“A Coke.”
“Yeah, what kind?”
“…a Coke.”
“So…a Sprite?”
“…a fucking Coke.”
And so on and so forth.
Get into the age-old debate of White Castle VS Krystal.
Never mind the fact that we’re arguing over the culinary art of tiny, steamed, soggy buns — this one you’re not going to win.
Ride up our ass on the highway.
Rest assured, we will brake to make you even later for whatever it is you’re rushing to.
Talk politics with us.
Don’t talk politics with the rednecks to avoid being embarrassed for those who swear Obama is the prophesied antichrist; don’t talk politics with the progressives to avoid beating a dead horse they’ve been beating since Tennessee became an official red state; and whatever you do, don’t talk politics with Aunt Irene to avoid every conversation ending with “Bye sweetie, you take care. Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask – how do you feel about the Confederate flag?”
Act like a baby when it thunders.
While you’re cowering in a basement like it’s a scene from Twister, we’re by open windows with a glass of Jack and Coke in hand, preparing for the best goddamn nap of our lives.
Give us hell as we act like a baby when it snows.
We’re not equipped with the right tires for this, okay?
Spend all of your time indoors.
There’s kayaking, paddleboarding, blue holes, canyons, rivers, mountains, gorges, rock climbing, whitewater rapids, and Chimney Tops. Not to mention there’s more caves here than in any other state. Really looking to humiliate yourself? Hate on the outdoors while pretending that ‘spelunking’ isn’t the best word ever.
Be on the receiving end of a “Bless your heart.”
Because that’s when you know you really fucked up. 
As an African-American, traveling to France felt like a rite of passage. What I found was far more complicated.
Photo: Marco Alexandre
I came to Paris on a mission: I wanted to compile an anthology of contemporary African-American expatriate writers living in the city of light. But in some ways, the voyage felt more like a rite of passage. As an African American writer myself, this was my way of following in the footsteps of my literary ancestors. What I found was a longer, and more complicated, history than I had been prepared for, as well as an uncertain future.
African Americans have traveled and moved to Paris for centuries, often to escape the continuous racism in the States. Dating back to the early 1700’s, wealthy French colonists sent their mixed-race sons and their black or mixed-race mistresses to Paris to be educated, at a time when it was illegal in most of the U.S. for black people to even learn to read. The gens de colour, as they were called, made up a middle class of sorts in many French colonies, such as New Orleans and Haiti.
During the WWII era, African-American soldiers brought with them to Paris both liberation from Nazi control, and the bourgeoning art and music of the Harlem Renaissance. There’s a story of an African-American military regiment marching through the streets of Paris, while playing a jazzy version of La Marseillaise, the French National Anthem, something that the citizens hadn’t heard since the German take-over years before—and certainly never in that style. Parisians greeted African-American soldiers with great enthusiasm, equal enthusiasm — no small thing when compared with the then segregated ranks of the American military.
The love affair between African Americans and Paris continues to this day. Many African American expats I’ve spoken to still tend to gravitate towards the 6th and 18th arrondissements as did African American expats of the past. There is a feeling of freedom and even privilege living in Paris and coming from our racial background. There’s little fear of police violence here for me, no being followed around in stores, or told I ‘probably can’t afford’ something I have my eye on. Being American and in Paris, I am assumed to be well off, and thus enjoy a level of deference that African Americans, regardless of class, rarely get in their home country. What’s more, the French are often eager to discuss African American history and race relations in the US. This has in fact been the main topic of most conversations I’ve had with French people.
Interestingly, however, many French people are less enthusiastic in discussing race relations within their own country. They often fall back on that much used trope of being ‘colorblind’ when it comes up in conversation. This is perhaps because, like most relationships, the black community’s relationship with France has gotten more and more complicated as time goes on. As in most of Europe, there has been an influx of immigrants from Africa and the Caribbean due to social unrest and financial troubles in former French colonies there. Sadly, this seems to have resulted in a disturbing amount of anti-African sentiment in France. African immigrants to France often face discrimination with regards to housing, jobs and other basic necessities. France refuses to collect racial demographic information, thereby making it difficult to prove any discrimination based on race has occurred.
Several friends and acquaintances of mine have started experiencing discrimination in the country. Those with darker skin tones or names perceived as ‘African’ reported a much more difficult time finding housing. Their landlords imposed ‘rules’ about who can come to stay with them and for how long that those of us perceived as ‘American’ did not experience. One friend even had a landlord threaten to throw him out after a neighbor complained about too many ‘Africans’ staying in his apartment. The ‘African’ in question was his cousin who had come to visit for less than a week.
While I never personally experienced this kind of prejudice, I heard too many stories from others to discount it. I also heard several conversations between French people and long term expats (sometimes even African American expats) making comments about African and Muslim immigrants that closely mirrored the negative stereotypes often lobbed at these communities in the US. Curiously, these offensive comments would often come on the heels of heated condemnation of American racism and praise for African American culture and achievements. Thus, there is an uncomfortable dichotomy between the treatment one receives as a black American expat versus the treatment of other people from the African diaspora. While Paris is certainly a far cry from the nearly weekly stories of systemic racism and police violence back in the States, clearly Paris is also not the racial utopia it has been made out to be in the minds of many African Americans.
Yet the love affair between Paris and this community continues on both sides. Businesses cater specifically to African-American travelers or travelers interested in African-American history. Several tour groups offer walking and bus tours that outline the history of that community in Paris. Popular ‘Soul food’ restaurants are often more popular with the French than they are with tourists or expats. Similarly, the plethora of jazz clubs and jazz festivals seem more popular in Paris than in the country of its birth.
Any idealistic view I had of the city before spending time here has given way to a much more pragmatic and realistic one. And yet, my personal love affair with Paris is also far from over. The sense of freedom that I’ve found here, and the perspective I’ve gained on my own country has been invaluable. Through the community I’ve found, Paris — with all its faults and freedoms — has still come to feel like home.
Can African countries reverse the continent’s devastating brain drain?
JOHANNESBURG, South Africa — Highly skilled Africans, your continent needs you.
That’s the motivational message from Homecoming Revolution, a recruitment firm aiming to reverse the “brain drain” in African economies by wooing back talented professionals living abroad.
A common path for ambitious Africans involves heading to the Britain or the United States for university, earning degrees at top schools — and then staying overseas after being hired by big companies.
Meanwhile back home a skills gap means that foreigners are recruited at a higher cost to do certain jobs.
Thabo Mbeki, the former South African president who has long touted a vision of an “African renaissance,” told a recent event in Johannesburg that African immigrants to Europe and the United States are among the best-educated immigrants. But this comes at a cost.
“We are the continent that is exporting brains,” Mbeki said.
“Every day and everywhere on this continent, millions of Africans speak of their dream for an Africa that is free of poverty and underdevelopment,” he said. “But the stark reality is that it is impossible to realize this African dream without the trained and skilled thousands whom we lose every year.”
You're an African living abroad. What would make you want to return home? http://t.co/lfpsfGLyZd @HomecomingRev pic.twitter.com/zfe26FZ9rJ
— MediaClubSouthAfrica (@MediaClubSA) August 19, 2015
Homecoming Revolution, which describes itself as a “brain gain company for Africa,” previously focused its efforts on South Africa but now also targets expats from Nigeria, Ghana, Uganda and Kenya.
The company says that 359,000 South Africans have returned home in the last five years. For every skilled person who returns home to South Africa, nine new jobs are created in the formal and informal sectors, it says.
“It’s really time that there is a significant wave of Africans returning to the continent,” said Angel Jones, the company’s founder and CEO. “This is the time.”
Part of the campaign involves helping Africans move back to their motherlands, through efforts such as matchmaking events with prospective employers and advice on housing and re-adjustment issues.
Perhaps the biggest concern about returning — particularly to South Africa — is fear of crime, given this country’s high rate of violent crime.
But the campaign also works to tug at the heartstrings, providing lists of “reasons to return” such as the sounds and smells of home, and lines of encouragement from recent “homecomers.”
According to Mbeki, there are more African scientists and engineers working in the United States than on the entire African continent. He estimates that Africa has lost some 20,000 professionals every year since 1990.
Mbeki also cites a figure from the year 2000, that 65,000 African-born physicians are working overseas in developed countries despite an extreme shortage of doctors in many sub-Saharan African countries.
“The number of skilled people and professionals our continent has lost over the decades — those numbers are truly frightening,” he said.
#heartAfrica with @angel1jones and @Eddie_Ndopu #SpeedMeetJozi pic.twitter.com/phAaj7zihN
— HomecomingRevolution (@HomecomingRev) August 14, 2015
Despite the rhetoric about reversing the brain drain, some economists argue that the flow of migrants is actually good for Africa, since it leads to a huge flow of remittances, or earnings sent home to support extended family members.
According to the World Bank, remittances to sub-Saharan Africa reached $32.9 billion in 2014, much of it going to Nigeria. This money can help with development — paying school fees, building a house — and is a positive side of having skilled workers living abroad.
Edward Ndopu, 24, moved back to South Africa last year after graduating from university in Canada and is now the head of Amnesty International’s youth engagement program for Africa.
Ndopu, who uses a wheelchair, said that returning has been difficult in terms of access — meaning, it is far more difficult to get around. He wants to help change public policy and urban planning toward disabled people in Africa.
“The reason why I’m back in the continent is because I feel that I have a moral and political obligation to really amplify the voices of young, disabled people across Africa,” he said.
“There is no better place in the world to be young, gifted and African than here.”
Thebe Ikalafeng, a trustee of Brand South Africa, an agency promoting the country, spoke of the importance of changing perceptions of Africa, while also working to create an Africa that is “peaceful and prosperous.”
Ikalafeng praised the South African comedian Trevor Noah for telling a new narrative of Africa with his role on The Daily Show, where he is replacing previous host Jon Stewart.
“He’s telling the world that Africa is a continent that is capable,” Ikalafeng said, adding: “Europe has a past but we have a future.”
By Erin Conway-Smith, GlobalPost
This article is syndicated from GlobalPost.
The travel industry thinks millennials are out to change the world. Here’s a reality check.
Photo: Emilie
When I first started backpacking in my early 20’s, I thought young travelers were the best. I saw young millennials making travel work on a next-to-nothing budget, viewing travel as more about experiences and insight than luxury and relaxation, and I felt like I had found the people I was searching for. Coming from resort-town Florida, I had finally found my crowd.
I loved hanging around the hostel bar and sharing stories, trading ideas of what we really wanted out of life, all proudly agreeing that life is easier when you carry everything you own on your back. Finally, I thought, here was a group of free-thinking young people who were seeking something more than the status quo.
A little more than a year ago, I wrote an article for The Atlantic praising these millennial travelers I met along the way. I wrote about surveys that had suggested that unlike previous generations, millennials rejected sand-and sea vacations for trips that involved personal growth. We spent less time in “major gateway cities” and instead explored more remote destinations, stayed in hostels instead of hotels, and choose long-term backpacking trips instead of two-week jaunts.
The article went viral and I instantly received emails from people around the world agreeing with my point of view: millennials were changing travel for the better by searching for real experiences and traveling with purpose. In many ways, I thought travel could be our easy ticket to self-actualization, and changing the world.
Then, reality set in.
Since writing that article, this optimistic view of travel has begun wearing off. Instead of seeing travel changing people and communities for the better, I’ve read about backpackers destroying culture in towns like Vang Vieng, disrespecting historical monuments in Cambodia, promoting drunken tourism, and causing tourist attractions to slowly die. I’ve read about backpacker-created gringo trails throughout developing countries that leave environmental and economic havoc behind. I’ve watched Humanitarians of Tinder show young people disturbingly using their international experiences for a profile picture. I’ve read articles exposing the “sticky ethics of voluntourism” and presenting solid arguments that even well-intentioned travel can do incredible damage. Lately, I’ve written less about travel’s romantic hopes and more about its uncomfortable truths.
Somewhere along the way, we’ve all missed a crucial point about millennial travelers: though we may want to change the world, that doesn’t mean we have any clue how to do it. Instead, many of us lack both the self-awareness and research necessary to travel in a way that actually benefits the countries we visit. For example, in the popular backpacker hotspot of Southeast Asia, a study by Sustainable Living found that over two-thirds of Thailand’s tourism revenue ends up not in the hands of local Thai population, but instead in the pockets of foreign-owned tour operators, airlines, hotels, etc. Often, even the income gained by locals from tourist spending is primarily used to import products that tourists “need”, like American toilet paper or other brands/products you can’t find in the local country. According to UNCTA, this import-related “leakage” for most developing countries today on average is between 40% and 50% of gross tourism earnings.
Though we may want our travel experiences perhaps more noble than the past doesn’t mean it’s turning out that way. Regardless of our original intentions, young travelers can be quick to strap on a backpack completely ignorant of what their daily decisions traveling may inadvertently cause.
I don’t exclude myself from this. I can’t say that in my history as a traveler, I’ve maintained a perfect track record on sustainability and ethics. I took tours with companies without always checking first to see if they employed locals or gave fair wages. I bartended at a party hostel and went to a Full Moon Party. I bargained way too much, not necessarily considering how the dollar saved impacted families who survived on the price I’d agree to pay. I volunteered without much thought about the bigger picture. I clapped along at hokey restaurants hosting “cultural performances”, and didn’t consider at the time how the show may have been inauthentic and actually humiliating for the performers involved. As I look back on my years of traveling, I’m disappointed to realize the time I spent abroad unaware and uninformed of the true impact I was having.
Which isn’t to say that this impact is entirely detrimental. Our do-gooder spirit and our thirst for exploration, when channelled correctly, can be a positive force around the world: An article in the Guardian highlighted a new report arguing that international travelers volunteering were often “effective means of reaching poor and vulnerable communities while also giving them access to valuable public services.” They mentioned the example of Mozambique where the number of AIDS patients receiving home-based care rose between 2004 and 2008 with the help of an influx of volunteers.
And yet, the report still acknowledged that not all international experiences are created equal. Volunteers had the most effect when they were “embedded in the local community”, “engaging in meaningful projects to share their skills with local workers and helping alleviate their workload”. They acknowledged that when relationships don’t practice reciprocity, problems occur.
“Reciprocity” is often the missing piece. Instead, travelers often enter new places with a privileged expectation: this place has to provide me great experiences, this place has to teach me things, this place has to give me what I want. This is obviously harmful when what travelers want are drunken escapades in “exotic” locales. But it can be just as harmful when travelers claim they want something “meaningful.” Just because we want to “find purpose” doesn’t mean we should expect any country to provide us that experience. That makes the entire exchange unequal: we are the privileged travelers expecting a community to give us what we’re looking for, regardless of how it may affect them. Instead, we should be thinking of how travel can benefit both parties involved.
Perhaps the best resource I’ve found addressing this issue is a totally millennial-y website called End Humanitarian Douchery. They coined a concept called “Fair-Trade Learning” which applies similar economic “fair-trade” principles to travel experiences and cultural exchange. Their website defines fair-trade learning as:
“Creating RECIPROCAL relationships that are community driven and that offer long-term sustainable betterment for all involved. It’s about creating a global community that values equality and shifting the power structures of development from a perspective of privilege that takes a top-down approach to one that looks at service from eye level.”
This is exactly the kind of travel experiences millennials should be seeking: one where everyone wins, one where the benefits of traveling to a community literally makes you experience a “fair trade”.
The website provides a full “toolkit” for finding volunteer experiences. They spread the word of their campaign with #endhumanitariandouchery on Twitter and through on-point satirical videos about the hypocrisy of international exchange. Their model has already been adopted by academic institutions like Providence College. They are a resource I wish I had when I first decided to travel, without knowing nearly enough about what travel should actually mean.
As I see my Facebook feed get more and more crowded with statuses of people quitting their corporate job to take time traveling, some days I still believe that’s a good sign: young people are trying to figure out what’s most meaningful, and breaking free from what isn’t. And we are prioritizing learning more about the world around us, so that we can better change it. But other days, I fear that travel will become yet another well-intentioned, beneficial-on-the-surface activity that we ultimately mess up.
With millennials traveling as often as we do, we have a responsibility to do travel right. The World Youth Student and Educational Travel Confederation estimated young travelers will take 320 million international trips by 2020, an almost 50% increase from 2013. With such an impact, we have a responsibility to ensure we positively influence the communities we have the privilege of visiting. And, we have a responsibility to make these trips as meaningful as we claim we want them to be.
When I first wrote about travel, I missed something crucial: the actual act of traveling has little to do with whether or not we’ll change the world. The reality is that it takes far deeper introspection to accomplish that.
15 dilemmas only people from Pittsburgh will understand
Photo: marcos ojeda
1. You can’t figure out if it’s cloudy or the sun has just been blocked by a giant pickle balloon.
Re: Picklesburgh 2015. Personally I would have gone with Pittsburgherkin, but no big dill.
2. You either have to avoid the Furries or do karaoke with them.
As long as you don’t mind hanging with a grown man in a duck costume, it’s not so bad.
3. Your math equations often read: ‘If pierogis are on special for 15 cents each, and you have a ten dollar bill, how much will you throw up later?’
Answer: A lot.
4. You still can’t figure out which parking garage the shooter in Jack Reacher used.
You are still kind of scared you’ll get shot eating your lunch on the North Shore Riverfront.
5. You got caught in traffic because someone is taking their engagement photos on your bridge AGAIN.
We get it, you’re marrying the bridge.
6. You have to decide whether to eat potato patch fries before or after you ride the Aero 360 at Kennywood.
Risk throwing up on your friend or feeling too sick to eat them at all? A veritable Sophie’s choice.
7. You don’t know what Steelers jersey to wear to your cousin’s wedding.
Does this Kiesel jersey go with my beard?
8. You were 15 minutes late to work today because you and your significant other started arguing about which pizza is better: Aiello’s or Mineo’s.
Some people also insert Fiori’s into this argument, but all Mt. Washington people know Cestone’s offers a little slice of heaven that just can’t be topped – except with pepperoni.
9. You were too busy explaining why an out-of-towner should go for the dippy egg on their sandwich and now your food is cold.
Always add an egg, people.
10. You bet too much money on the wrong pierogi at the Pirate’s game and now the Pittsburgh Parrot is coming for you.
Damn you, Jalapeño Hannah.
11. You have to either wait for the real bathroom or use the ‘Pittsburgh potty’ — the standalone toilet with no walls around it in the middle of the floor in your brother’s basement.
Just remember to bring your own toilet paper.
12. People keep telling you “Kennywood’s open,” but you just don’t get it and now your in-laws hate you.
Kennywood, aka your fly.
13. You can’t decide whether to swim in the Allegheny River or bathe in raw sewage.
Trick question, it’s the same thing.
14. Your family has stopped talking to you because your father worked in printing for the Post-Gazette, but you just switched your subscription to the Tribune Review.
What’s black and white and read all over? The death threats from your mom.
15. You would love to go on vacation, but can’t think of anywhere better than Pittsburgh.
We are America’s Most Livable City after all. 
August 19, 2015
How to piss off an Alaskan
Photo: Cody McComas
Preach to us about environmentalism.
This comes with a warning label. While we Alaskans care a great deal about our environment, we collectively resent — with a vengeance — anyone coming in from out-of-state and telling us how to protect the sanctity of our pristine nature. We do an excellent job of it on our own and chances are, our air, our water and our dirt are all cleaner than what you’ve got where you came from. So, do what’s best for all of us in this situation and don’t mention it — ever.
Oh, and thanks but no thanks for your concern. We really don’t need your input on climate change. We know the glaciers are melting — they have been for decades, how nice of you to notice. We also don’t need help finding where to drill for oil or oversight on how to allocate ANWAR and Pebble for development. We can handle it just fine from our end. Do yourself and us a huge favor and go be environmental someplace else.
Speak with disdain about men and women in the Armed Forces.
Alaska’s a military state. And with a significant portion of our population in active duty, the reserves or retired, negative remarks will raise more than a few eyebrows. We sincerely respect, appreciate and honor our service men and women. Consider it wise advice that you do the same.
In fact, if it weren’t for the US Military thinking Alaska was a vital pacific northwest outpost and worth the investment of reassigning my own father to Elemendorf, yours truly and many like me, wouldn’t get to call Alaska “home.” More importantly, Alaska owes much of her founding infrastructure and early governance to the blood, sweat and back breaking labor put in by countless members of the US Military— without whom, many transportation routes and other essentials in the state would not exist.
The ALCAN Highway, completed in 1942 by the Army and open to the public since 1948, is something Alaskans have a peculiar pride in. Well known for connecting Alaska to everyone else, driving the ALCAN has become an Alaskan rite of passage over the years. A top 10 on many an Alaskan bucket list and considered the road trip of all road trips, it’s easy to remember the 11,000 service personnel who pioneered that highway through hundreds of miles of unmapped, off the grid wilderness. Next time you’re on it and dodging potholes, changing a tire or waiting for the guide vehicle in a construction zone to come your way, send our military some happy thoughts and appreciate how easy you’ve got it in this day and age — it’s the least you can do.
Try to talk about Texas.
No, really. Try it and see what happens. Sibling rivalry is a myth compared to the rifts between ‘the last frontier’ and ‘the lone star’ state. Texas may have rights to America’s iconic wild west/shoot-em-up cowboy/independent oil tycoon/cattle rancher ideals but in 1867, when Alaska stepped on the playing field, the whole game changed.
Years before signing on as the good ‘ole US of A’s 49th state, Alaska made her permanent mark by being the wildest and most untameable of the union. Truths excellently illustrated in Jack London’s post gold-rush and now infamous books: Call of the Wild and White Fang.
Two times larger than Texas, Alaska has 6,640 miles of coastline to Texas’ measly 367. The tallest mountain in North America resides in Alaska (Mt. McKinley at 20,320 ft) and is a full 2.2 miles higher than Texas’ highest anything (Guadalupe Peak at 8,749 ft.) Alaska also boasts the United States’ northern and western most points— Point Barrow and Cape Wrangell (yes, we reach even further west than Hawaii. Surprise!)
Considering these tip of the iceberg highlights, it’s easy to see why Alaska has no need of special hats or jumbo belt buckles to prove it’s the biggest, baddest, rough ’n tumble state there is.
‘How do you sleep in the summer?’
They are called, ‘blinds.’ Over the centuries, human beings have used some form of drapery, curtains, blinds or shutters to block out light that would otherwise shine through windows thus preventing sleep at the designated time. A smaller, more travel friendly option would be the humble eye mask. Alaskans always walk away from this question shaking their heads and sputtering silently at its overwhelming daftness.
With 22 hours worth of daylight in the Anchorage area on summer solstice, up to 2,016 consecutive hours of daylight (about 84 days) the further north you go and locals taking advantage to the uttermost, we consider anyone not doing likewise foolhardy and uneducated.
We’ve been known however, to tell a tall tale or two by explaining to the gullible that our entire population simply abandons sleep in summer and hibernates like bears in winter. Why, you ask? Because we have to stock up on our vitamin D and fat reserves in order to survive Alaska’s long dark winters.
Ask if we’re part of Canada.
We’ll make sure you know how ignorant you sound with our “you must be an idiot” gaze that we’ve been perfecting for over a lifetime of fielding this inquiry. We’ll also make you wish you’d paid better attention in geography class. But, to help you out in advance: No, we’re not part of Canada and no, we’re not next to Hawaii in the middle of the Pacific. Go buy yourself a real map and study up.
Ask us if we live in igloos.
We’ll play along with you here for about a minute — it’s cheap entertainment. After the minute’s up and we realize you’re totally serious, we’ll stare at you like we’ve just seen a life-size bobblehead. This, in the day and age of technology, where the answer to every question is instantaneously accessible via Siri or Google, and you’re still under the impression everyone in Alaska dwells in a round house made of ice?
In the words of George Clooney’s character in the film Oh Brother Wherefore Art Thou, “…you’re dumber than a bag of hammers.” Maybe hitting you with one will help. And for the record, technically “Yes, we do.” If you take into consideration that “igloo” means “house” or “home” in Inuit.
Look horrified and indignant when we say, “You just ate Rudolph.”
So, it’s not your typical American cuisine. Get over it. Rudolph is a reindeer. Reindeer is a domesticated caribou. Caribou are food. We eat them. We also eat moose, deer, bear, spruce hen, whale, seal and a host of other exceptional land and marine based fare. (Okay, not all of us — some things are reserved for Alaska Natives and subsistence hunters only.) Alaskans were eating off the land long before corporations flooded our global food chain with chicken, beef and pork pumped full of hormones, antibiotics and GMO feed. Considering the options, we’re good with Rudolph.
Ask if we’ve ever seen a polar bear.
Yes. We see polar bears all the time. They camp out in our backyards, we keep them as pets and we cuddle with them in celebration of Alaska Day every October 18th.
In the event you missed the sarcasm above: No. Most of us haven’t seen a real, live, WILD polar bear in person. Nor do most of us live near or above the Arctic Circle. Visit the Alaskans that do and they’ll probably encourage you to embrace that photo opp with the “cute” white bear around the corner. It is, after all, easier than trying to explain to tourists how the “stranger danger” concept applies to bears, too. Ask us about “Binky” on the other hand, and we’ll immediately wax nostalgic over our unofficial state mascot and melt faster than Portage Glacier. 
language of an Argentine in love
Photo: Juanedc
Hacé clic para leer este artículo en Español. Tambien podés darnos un “me gusta” en Facebook!
1.
An Argentine is not “madly in love”.
He’s “up to his hands” (Está hasta las manos).
2.
An Argentine is not “seducing” a woman…
He’s “throwing the greyhounds at her.” (Le está tirando los galgos).
3.
An Argentine doesn’t “like” a girl very much.
He’s “dead for her.” (Lo tiene muerto).
4.
An Argentine doesn´t “think a lot about him”.
She “burns her head” (Se quema la cabeza).
5.
An Argentine isn’t “handsome”.
He’s “very looker” (Es re fachero).
6.
The girl an Argentine likes isn’t “beautiful”.
She’s “really good”, “super strong” and a “big gold mine” (Está buenísima, recontra fuerte y es un minón).
7.
And there are no “unattractive” men and women in Argentina.
There are “bagartos”.
8.
Argentine people don’t “kiss”…
They “compromise”, “plate” or “squeeze” (Transan, chapan o aprietan).
9.
An Argentine doesn’t give you “a soft kiss”.
She gives you a “beak” (Te da un pico).
10.
And Argentine people don’t “kiss hard”.
They “eat your mouth” or “break your mouth with a kiss” (Te comen la boca o te parten la boca con un beso).
11.
Two Argentine people don’t have “chemistry”.
They have “wave” or “there’s some wave between them” (Tienen onda o hay onda entre ellos).
12.
An Argentine doesn’t use dialogue and smooth lines as a seduction strategy.
He “makes the verse” (Hace el verso).
13.
An Argentine doesn’t lie to his significant other.
He “talks” her (La chamuya).
14.
An Argentine doesn’t have the intention of seducing someone, whoever they may be…
He “is of raise” (Está de levante).
15.
An Argentine never “goes out”…
He’s “in a band” (Está en banda).
16.
An Argentine girl doesn’t date a “guy”…
She’s dating an “eighter” (Sale con un chabón).
17.
Two Argentine people are not “friends who start dating”.
They are “friendovers” (Son amigovios = amigos + novios = friends + lovers).
18.
An Argentine girl doesn’t think that a boy is handsome, sweet, smart and polite.
She thinks he’s “a chocolate” (Piensa que es un bombón).
19.
An Argentine is not very committed to his relationship.
He’s “so hooked” (Está re enganchado).
20.
An Argentine’s female spouse is not his wife.
She’s his “manwo” (Es su jermu).
21.
And if he always obeys her…
His friends will call him a “skirt” (Sus amigos dirán que es un pollera).
22.
An Argentine couple doesn’t plan their wedding.
They plan the “casorio”.
23.
Argentine people don’t “break up”.
They “cut” (Cortan).
24.
And they’re not sad about the break-up.
They are “very depre” (Están re depre = deprimido = depressed).
25.
An Argentine doesn’t tell you to “get over your old love by means of a new one and that’s it”.
They say “a nail extracts another nail and… to another thing, butterfly!” (Dicen “un clavo saca otro clavo y… ¡a otra cosa, mariposa!”).
Women's beauty ideals
HOW DO PERCEPTIONS OF BEAUTY VARY ACROSS THE GLOBE? When the pharmacy Superdrug asked that question, they came up with a study where female graphic designers from around the world would photoshop a female form in order to make her, in their opinion, more attractive to other citizens of their country.
Here’s the original image the graphic designers started with:
Original image credit: Hugo Felix/Shutterstock.
The results? They’re fascinating. Seems like Colombia, at least, embraces women’s curves. The USA? Looking at that thigh gap, not so much…
USA
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
China
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Colombia
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
UK
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Venezuela
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Egypt
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Mexico
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Argentina
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Netherlands
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Italy
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Peru
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Philippines
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
South Africa
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Romania
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Spain
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Syria
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Ukraine
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
Photo: https://onlinedoctor.superdrug.com
epic adventures to have in Chile
1. Drive from Santiago to San Pedro de Atacama in a combi.
A photo posted by @chiletravel on Aug 25, 2014 at 4:17pm PDT
This journey spans 1200 kilometers. There are a few great routes you can take. This first one is a little more interesting and get’s you off the highway; Los Vilos, Illapel, Combarbalá, Monte Patria, Ovalle with the nearby Embalse La Paloma and back to the highway or take Santiago to Copiapó (around 10 hours), Copiapó to Antofagasta (12 hours).
Little tip, don’t forget to keep the fuel tanks full, and don’t go past a pump without filling up, especially at Aqua Caliente where the next opportunity is more than 130 kilometers.
2. Surfing, Punta de Lobos, Pichilemu.
A photo posted by Oscar Negroni (@onenegroni) on Mar 19, 2015 at 4:07am PDT
The world class waves of Punta de Lobos are located 3km south of the coastal town of Pichilemu. About three hours drive from Santiago. The entry to the break (as you will figure out pretty quickly) requires perfect timing otherwise you could be bashed against some gnarly rocks. Be brave, time it well and watch how the Chileans do it. In winter the water can be aggressively cold and wild. You can also paddle out from the beach if you want to play in the small swell. On a side note be respectful to area and the locals and get ready to be impressed by their fearless skills.
3. Primer día Temporada – first day of the ski season, Valle Nevado.
A photo posted by @chiletravel on Aug 1, 2013 at 3:53pm PDT
Popular haunt for attractive and well-off Chileans, Valle Nevado has 39 routes for all levels. If you’re friends with someone who has a house in the area, perfect! If not get ready to fork out a few Luca to rent an apartment for the weekend. You won’t be sorry though, the mountains are spectacular, the routes are challenging and the parties are a lot of fun.
4. Cross the Andes on horseback.
A photo posted by @chiletravel on Aug 1, 2013 at 3:45pm PDT
Crossing the Andes on horseback takes around thirteen days. It begins in the Maipo Valley (15 km from Santiago) and crosses to the Laguna del Diamante, in Argentina. You’ll witness the diverse and interchanging landscape from the volcanic Andes through a narrow pass in Icalma, to the open valleys of the Argentinean pampas. Not only is this a tremendous journey, the guides have outstanding knowledge of the local culture and history of the region.
5. Camp out at Parque Conguillio.
A photo posted by
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