Georgia's Fickle Weather

Around the apartment in Decatur, I show how Georgia's fickle weather went from blustery blizzard to sunny Sunday in just one week.

Freshly Fallen

No matter how beautiful it is undisturbed, I'm always tempted to walk through a patch of snow freshly fallen, where no one has been since it first blanketed the ground.

We had a big snow the other day (never thought I'd be able to say that in Georgia), and I couldn't resist the urge. I put on the boots I bought for a trip to Maine a few years ago and tromped around the grounds of my apartment complex, looking for especially pristine plots to defile.

I guess you could say this tendency metaphorically represents my spiritual life in two conflicting ways, one good, one bad.

We'll take the bad news first. For one, I think it reflects my unrelenting desire in each situation to exert my own will, not to let things rest just in their unspoiled state.

But on the other hand, on a truer level, I think this shows something more pure about who I am. I want to make the first tracks in that fluffy patch of pure powdery white because I want to be a trailblazer, to go where no one else has gone, to become the first to walk a certain path.

This is good and bad in my walk with Jesus, especially with regard to evangelism. In some ways I feel like Paul, who in his letter to the Romans said, "It has always been my ambition to preach the gospel where Christ was not known, so that I would not be building on someone else's foundation." After tasting that morsel of satisfaction that comes with planting a seed of the Gospel in new soil, Paul saw it as his mission to continue sowing.

I feel Paul on that one, as evidenced by the way I do well sharing my faith overseas to new ears but often can't find the same resolve in my daily life. I just find the fact that billions still haven't heard Jesus' name appalling, especially with the riches in technology and knowledge that we possess in this country.

In comparison with the soft soil I have sometimes found abroad, Americans seem like icy snow - frozen over, slippery and hard to penetrate. They seem jaded, and the natural inclination - at least for me - is to prematurely move on.

But here's something I've learned, and it has helped me keep a soft heart towards Americans who have rejected Jesus time and again: Many of them are not rejecting Jesus or his grace. They are rejecting the image of him that has been presented to them. They often understand that we believe he died on the cross and rose from the grave. But they don't get his audacious acceptance, and no one has ever taken the time to break it down for them. Most of all, they just don't know who he is.

May I be one who breaks the ice and makes the introduction.

UGA Still Top 5 in One Ranking

While the University of Georgia has fallen from its preseason perch at the top of the college football rankings to No. 17 after its loss to rival Georgia Tech, the old alma mater is still top 5 in one important ranking.

For 2007-08, UGA had the fifth-highest amount of students enrolled in study abroad programs of any school in the country, public or private.  Georgia's flagship institution doubled the techies in that regard, 2086 to a meager 1001.

That doesn't take the sting (pun intended) away from Tech's 45-42 victory and UGA's freefall over the course of the highly anticipated 2008 football season, but at least we can take pride that we'll have a globally minded, highly educated state population. 

Because that's what everybody cares about on the weekend of the SEC championship game, right?

August Access Recap

I don't do this to put more notches into my belt or to tout my accomplishments, only to show how much God continues to bless me by putting me in situations where I can meet prime decision makers on the world stage. I still don't know what God's preparing me for in the big picture, but for now, I'm enjoying the ride as an international business reporter at GlobalAtlanta. Here's an August recap of the officials I've been able to meet or cover.

-Lord Mayor of London David Lewis, an alderman elected to a one-year term as head of the City of London, a small area within Greater London that handles the city's financial institutions. I conducted an e-mail Q&A with him. Article here.

-U.S. Labor Secretary Elaine Chao, the first Asian-American to serve in a cabinet position. She's been in President Bush's administration for more than seven years and has a great story that goes from immigration at 8 years old to one of the highest offices in the land. Article here.

-Georgia Gov. Sonny Perdue. On his second trip to China, Mr. Perdue called back for a conference with media to tell us what he was up to. Turns out he was representing Georgia at an international forum called the Regional Leaders Conference in Jinan, Shandong province. Article here.

-Presidents Alvaro Uribe of Colombia, Elias Antonio Saca of El Salvador and Alvaro Colom of Guatemala, along with U.S. Commerce Secretary Carlos Gutierrez. All the men were in Atlanta for the Americas Competitiveness Forum, a gathering of government and business leaders from around the Western Hemisphere to share knowledge on how to cooperate to better the region's standing in the world economy. Read my article here.

-Chilean Economic Minister Hugo Lavados, also in town for the forum. Conducted a video interview with him at the Hyatt Regency Atlanta. For video and article, go here.

-Alessandro Teixeira, head of Brazil's export promotion agency, ApexBrasil. He gave a speech at the forum and a presentation about the Brazilian economy at a local law firm. He cited ethanol as one of the largest areas for potential trade between Brazil and Georgia, already the South American powerhouse's third largest state trading partner. Click here.

-A long-anticipated Brazilian consulate opened in Atlanta. I was on the scene. Click here for my coverage.

-Indonesian Ambassador Sujadnan Parnohadiningrat (I can actually spell his name by heart now.) He serenaded an audience with his saxophone at a gala I attended last weekend. He needed something to break the ice after the stat-filled speech he gave. My job is to make his comments interesting. See the article and video here.

Tybee Island

Katy and I clash when it comes to the criteria for an ideal vacation. She likes pure, white sandy beaches and a lot of downtime to enjoy them. And once you've gotten good and baked in the sun, you go inside, get cleaned up and head out for a fancy, delicious dinner. To her, this is a natural progression.

I enjoy the beach well enough, at least the relaxation part of it. If I have a good book, plenty of sunscreen and sunglasses, I can wait it out. But I hate sand with a passion. I always try futilely to keep it from invading the cracks between my toes. And even though I'm lazy at times, I get bored with too much inactivity.

Somehow for our honeymoon last year, I was able to rope Katy into heading to Arizona, which - at least in the southern part - is basically like a beach without water. It's devastatingly hot, and when you're out walking and driving around, you can't just take a quick dip to cool off. She was a good sport, and I think the fact that our resort had a nice pool went a long way in helping her forget her beachy dreams.

But for this year's trip we found an even happier medium. Savannah's marketing people call Tybee Island "Savannah's Beach." I think that might be slighting Tybee a little. The island has a lot of attractions in its own right - batteries built by the Union during the Civil War to bombard confederate forts, pirate lore, one of the first lighthouses on the East Coast and a name that means "salt" in a Native American language.

Together, Savannah's tourist magnetism and Tybee's quiet, old-fashioned beach community made a great marriage of city life and isolation, activity and relaxation. And since marriage is what the whole trip was about, that couldn't have fit any better. We made the 30-minute drive twice, treading a long causeway across wetlands and out to the island.

Parking was convenient - only a few bucks for a few hours, and the ticket-dispensing machines were very intuitive, although we did have to help one older couple figure them out. The beaches were nice. The sand wasn't blinding white, but it wasn't too brown. Best of all, it was natural. In a total of about 4 1/2 hours over two days, we saw about 10 stingrays, two jellyfish and three dolphins, and we found the currency of vacation memories - sand dollars.

As fun as it was to trudge through sand and lay there hoping for clouds to cover the sun, my favorite Tybee Island activity had nothing to do with the sunny pursuits others like Katy tend to enjoy. I preferred cooling down at Seaweed's, a small "sno-ball" shop on the main drag, U.S. Highway 80. The friendly staff only accepts cash, and if you don't have it, make a trip to the ATM. In two days, we tried fuzzy navel, strawberry daiquiri and dinosaur (strawberry, banana, and fruit punch) with sweet cream. All were amazing, as I'm sure are the other 70-something flavors.

Thanks to Seaweed's, Savannah's Beach was quite a hit.

Photos (from top): Looking at the lighthouse Oglethorpe saw built in 1733; two aptly sized sand dollars; a Seaweed's preview.

Panama: The Return

It's been two years since my feet touched Panamanian soil, and as far as I could tell from the drive from the airport to the hotel, not much has changed.   COMPARE the narrative from two years ago. 

In fact, it was quite a flashback for me to disembark from the Delta 757 that brought me here on today's only flight from Atlanta to a country that prides itself on being a crossroads for international commerce and the last bridge between Central and South America. 

As I made the short walk up a small ramp into the customs area, the smell of grilled food still hung in the air, left over from an earlier, busier time in the terminal.  Blue and yellow signs of Tocumen International Airport welcomed us to a new land, which is closer by plane from my Georgia home than some parts of the American West and definitely much more convenient than the 14-hour marathon I took to Shanghai, China, last month.

In 2006, I snapped photos of the welcome sign.  I wonder if the fact that I didn't this time means I'm maturing as a traveler or just that I'm less enamored because I've already been here before.  Maybe a trip to a less-familiar place would have rendered me trigger happy.

The customs counter was a breeze compared to America.   The people were actually nice, and they've widened and brightened the light blue and white walls of what used to be a dungeony area the last time I was here.  They've even installed a DMV-style digital numbering system that directs you to the next available attendant.  After so many uneasy trips to China, it was comforting to see foreigners all around me and to hear the familiar thud of the approval stamp thumping the counters, signaling their official access into the country. 

After baggage claim, this trip began to differ a little from the fiasco that was my last Panama arrival.  Long story short:  This time, instead of a creepy, lurking taxi driver chosen as a last resort after being jilted at the airport by a friend, we were carted away in a Mercedes Benz.  All told it was $32.50 for a half-hour trip.  Extortion?  I don't know, but the convenience was nice and the air-conditioned ride was smooth.  

As in America, billboards are prevalent here.  It's ironic that I noticed this on the cab ride, because I just overheard some people talking at the post office today about how great Europe is because it doesn't have billboards, or at least in Germany; they couldn't really agree.  I couldn't tell you a thing about Europe, but I know the the Koreans (Samsung, LG) are happy that advertising isn't passe in Latin America. 

The Multicentro is still here, as is Super 99, a popular grocery store, and the Hard Rock Cafe and Dunkin Donuts, two very important institutions.  I don't particularly like being the American who clings to recognizable brands while soaking in a different culture, but I have to admit that it's comforting to see things that remind me of the previous trip.  It gives me a sense that I know where I am, even if I couldn't get there by memory if you set me loose with a car.

I'm also reliving another Panama experience: the Country Inn and Suites near the Amador Causeway.  Last time we stayed here for a night of relative luxury before heading off into the wonderful worlds of budget lodges and outdoor camping.  This time I'll have four nights.  Speaking of cultural clinginess, I ate fried calamari and drank Panamanian beer at a TGI Friday's attached to the hotel.  

Tomorrow, work begins.  I might switch my chronicles to a GlobalAtlanta blog once the work information piles up.  If you're interested in the Panama Canal and its interplay with trade flowing through the ports in Georgia and the Southeast, stay tuned.  

COMPARE the narrative from two years ago. 

Shanghai

Although I've been having a blast here in Shanghai, I haven't been able to share any of my experiences in this venue. This city truly is a business center! Work has reigned, and I've been writing for GlobalAtlanta rather than myself. Rest assured, there will be plenty of personal content associated with this trip to share here. I've already had some great experiences on my fifth excursion to China. But for now, you'll have to sift through the articles on GlobalAtlanta, to find out what I've been up to. And these aren't even chronicling half of what's gone on here, both with the Georgia delegation, and in my own experience.

Read my article about the launch of the Delta flight here. Another one about the festivities here is soon to come.

Also, I have a GlobalAtlanta blog with links to videos we took at the opening ceremony.

Photo: I finally got to meet Gov. Sonny Perdue. Strange that it had to happen on this side of the world.

Cow Tongue Tacos - Enjoying Georgia's Immigration Problem

A recent AJC article cited U.S. Census Bureau data showing that more than half of Georgia’s almost million-strong immigrant population is here illegally. Georgia has the third-highest ratio of any state in that category, posting a 53 percent mark trailing only Arizona at 65 percent and North Carolina at 58 percent.

With all the financial strain this puts on the taxpaying citizens of the state, it would be easy to get bogged down in debates over what can be done to stem the tide of immigrants to Georgia or allay its societal burden. While I do think this is a serious problem that needs fixing, I’ll leave you to the AJC article for more information. I want to look at something more tangible and less controversial—the opportunity for adventure these sub-legal enterprises and communities create.

A few friends visited us for Thanksgiving, and we drove toward Albany to visit my in-laws. One of them had a hankering for good Mexican food, but the road signs and billboards on that stretch of I-75 weren’t leading us to anything. Just when we thought we might have to go for some greasy American fast food, bold-red, backlit letters appeared on the western horizon: El Carneval. Certainly this was our promised land, flowing with cheese and salsa.

After a winding exit and a brief gas stop, we headed toward what we thought would be an authentic taco stand in that glorious strip mall just north of Crisp County. But as we approached, signs in the window and dim lights inside told another story. El Carneval was a grocery store, and it wasn’t even open this late in the evening.

Disheartened, we decided to drive down the road a ways to see if we could find a Wendy’s or something. A hulking building that at first glance looked like an abandoned shopping center loomed on our right. I was about to keep driving, but neon lights and palm tree murals in a window on the end of the shopping center caught someone’s eye. The sign read “La Playita Taqueria,” and the sunny seascapes on the window promised that the “Little Beach” taco shop would be an unlikely oasis.

A sign on the door welcomed costumers (not customers), and I jokingly scolded my friend for not bringing his clown suit. A Puerto Rican beauty pageant blared on the TV, and a lone Latino sat sleepy-eyed at a table. We seated ourselves and waited for the one-woman restaurant crew to greet us and take our orders. True to obnoxious gringo form, we requested chips and salsa, only to find that such American indulgences weren’t offered here. This place was Mexicano autentico, our waitress said.

If that’s the case, we resolved, then we might as well have a cultural experience. When she returned, my friend ordered beans and rice for an appetizer, a plate of steak and eggs and tacos for his wife and daughter. Katy, ever cautious, stuck to beef tacos and ordered a bottle of Jarritos fruit soda.

“Jou want strawberry, grapefruit or tooti frooti?” the waitress/cook asked. Katy smiled at the cute way the lady’s accent turned the y into a j and shaped the last word, which is a bit funny even without the accent. She eventually decided on the grapefruit flavor, a favorite of Mexican laborers at construction sites, I had learned during three summers as sprinkler pipe fabricator and installer.

I took the cultural experience a bit farther. If you’re adventurous with food, sometimes it comes back and bites you. Other times, your bites become surprisingly rewarding. Along with a set of two beef tacos, I asked for a taco featuring a dish that I saw as intriguing and befitting of this strange evening, a taco featuring grilled and chopped lengua de vaca, cow’s tongue.

As the Puerto Rican beauty queens cooed on TV and the waitress cooked, a few other Mexicans walked in and gave us the same kind of looks I’ve gotten in China as the only foreigner for miles around. With construction-stained jeans and disheveled hair, they looked pretty rough-and-tumble, so it’s unlikely that we scared them away. But either our strange presence or the slow service sent them packing after a few impatient minutes.

We were alone with our server, who promptly brought my cow tongue and a variety of fiery sauces to douse it in. I would need them, ironically, to dull my palate as I ate the little cubes of tongue, which still had the bumpy taste buds on them. Wrapped in a warm, homemade corn tortilla and blanketed with beans, rice and sauce, the tongue was actually pretty tasty. Although she knows I’ve eaten rat and dog meat before, Katy for some reason didn’t want to kiss me later that night. I think she said something about not wanting to French kiss a cow. My only consolation was that I had added another culinary trophy to the long-running list I’ve built over four different trips to China.

I have no clue whether La Playita is a legal business, but going by the studies, at least two of the four Mexicans that shared our time there were in the U.S. illegally. The interesting thing is that although they have come into the state I’ve lived in my whole life, in that community, I was the foreigner. Only in America. With all our problems in this country, we have loads of privilege and almost as many adventures for the taking.

Photo: the U.S. Capitol, Copyright Trevor Williams, 2007

Another Sonny Day in Georgia

Georgia Gov. Sonny Perdue's decision to hold a prayer service outside the state Capitol yesterday petitioning to God for relief from the state's record drought was met with mixed reviews.

Although Sonny followed the politically correct protocol by inviting members of the Christian, Muslim, Jewish and Hindu faiths to participate, his attempt at inclusiveness still wasn't good enough for some of Georgia's self-proclaimed "non-theistic" citizens.

Members of the ironically named Atlanta Free Thought Society believe that Sonny overstepped his Constitutional bounds as an elected official by endorsing religion in his official capacity.

Various organizations protested at the Capitol, carrying sarcastic signs that read, "Is it raining yet?" and "All hail Sonny Perdue!" press reports indicated.

I must admit that I probably wouldn't be too excited if Sonny organized some kind of animistic sacrifice on the Capitol steps, but what these Free Thoughters forget is that governors are citizens too, and that elected officials are not legally required to check their faith at the door to the gold-domed Capitol.

For those who haven't had civics class in awhile, here's the text of the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. See if you can find here a reason to prohibit a state governor for practicing his faith in public:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Now, I realize that there is a very long and complex history of Supreme Court decisions that have brought legal interpretations to where they are today, but I can't help looking back at my free speech in wartime class from last year and second-guessing the Supreme Court's competency in handling complicated matters relating to free speech. (It's interesting how the same people that preach Supreme Court historical precedent on issues like Roe v. Wade would condemn the actions of the very same court during wartime repression of dissenting voices). And I also can't help but think that anti-religious zealots simply use events like this just to further their own antagonistic agendas.

The truth is, those who claim agnosticism hold to a worldview that brings its own premises of faith to the table. Every belief, whether scientific or not, is only as true as the epistemological source it comes from. Some get their beliefs from science textbooks, some from holy books. Some believe what their preacher says, others their professor, therapist or guru. I'm not preaching some postmodern mumbo-jumbo that everyone's truth is equally valid. Far from it. I'm saying that everyone's perception of the truth is influenced by some facts that are not empirically verifiable, meaning that everyone carries some degree of faith, whether it be in God or in their own logic.

So free-thoughters, lighten up. No one's interrupting your enlightened little thinking parties, and the same Bill of Rights that gives you the ability to stand on the steps with your inconsiderate signs gives Sonny the right to ask the One who gives rain to send it a-pourin'.

Note: I'm not debating the efficacy of prayer in this context, only trying to give credence to Sonny's right do it. Why God has allowed this drought to go on is unclear, but the faithful will certainly pray, and they will also certainly accept God's decision to bring rain or let us run dry.
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On a more personal note, I had to defend ole Sonny today in two different contexts.

At a conference on solar energy, a guy told me that he thought it was a bit ridiculous that the only thing the governor is doing about the drought is organizing a prayer vigil. For one, I said, that's not the only thing he's doing. Well, I wish he would've done something nine months ago, came the response.

But in the context of prayer, Sonny humbly admitted the government's inadequacy in the area of conservation, I answered. The man didn't really respond. It seems his desire to criticize was greater than his desire to think. And if Sonny, by some feat of divination, got a premonition about the drought before it happened and enacted measures to prevent it, I'm sure that these same sort of folks would be questioning his use of spiritual sources.

My second defense of Sonny was a bit less entertaining. Someone challenged his handling of the drought, and I simply pointed out that the governor is receiving the brunt of the criticism because the crisis is happening under his watch. Unpreparedness is a team effort where government is concerned.

To end, I just have one question and its candid answer:

Did you invite representatives from various faiths to petition the Lord for rain, and then receive a lot of crap about it?

Sonny did.

For one of my newest articles on the governor and a great picture of Sonny at the Hockey Hall of Fame in Toronto, go to www.globalatlanta.com.

Bear Hollow's Poor Cousin

When I lived in Athens, Katy and I enjoyed going to a small zoo called Bear Hollow Wildlife Trail. Tucked away on a small street called Gran Ellen drive in a residential area behind Milledge Avenue Baptist Church, Bear Hollow shares acreage with two other great Athens pit stops: Memorial Park and the Birchmore Trail, a winding, two-mile jaunt I hiked throughout college when I started to feel the indoors closing in on me.

Bear Hollow, a family-friendly attraction, was built to provide homes for all types of creatures native to Georgia that could no longer take care of themselves in the wild. It is a place where the outcasts of Georgia's animal world become ambassadors, preaching the merits of conservation with their cuteness and proximity. Just by lazing around, they capture the imagination of the zoo's visitors. Although these animals are native to Georgia, most people will never see them in the wild: owls, otters, hawks, golden eagles, bald eagles, bobcats, deer, turkeys, groundhogs, alligators and the signature black bears that gave the zoo its name.

While hiking around on Arabia Mountain the other day, Evan and I discovered a similar wildlife rescue effort, although on a smaller scale. As we followed the trail, it emptied into a parking lot that led up to what looked like a small log house. A circular sign told us that this was home base for A.W.A.R.E., the Atlanta Wildlife Awareness Rescue Effort. Unlike Bear Hollow, its older, flashier cousin, the AWARE center was nowhere near ready for a full-scale visitor assault. AWARE has been in the fund-raising stages since 2005 and needs lots of work to catch up with Bear Hollow.

As you'll see in the above video, cages forged of various types of wire led up a hill and back behind the house. Curious, we advanced into the labyrinth of fence, wire and strewn lumber, not knowing what we would find. Workers eyed us indifferently from inside the house. As we climbed farther into the maze, the creatures became more exotic. I'll let you watch the video to figure out what happened...

Dekalbi Arabia

A state park that defies stereotypes about Dekalb as one of metro Atlanta's most heavily populated and urban counties.

Today was the epitome of fall in Georgia--blazing colors in the trees and weather cool enough to wear a jacket but warm enough to take it off after you've hiked a few miles, which is what I spent a few hours doing on Sunday. My best friend Evan had a few minutes in Atlanta on the way back to Augusta, and he decided to stop by. I had planned on sitting in front of the computer for a few hours before I got his call. I had the door open and a soft wind rustled through the trees behind our terrace level apartment. With Evan on his way, Katy at work and nothing else to do, I decided it was the perfect time to get outdoors.

We had planned for Stone Mountain, but as I searched the Internet for the park's hours and fees, I noticed how frilly its Web site had become. Attractions filled up the whole homepage, and colorful, gimmicky ads promised visitors the time of their lives. I was already beginning to have my doubts when the clincher came: $8 per car to get into the park. I assume this is to cover the added amenities Stone Mountain offers, stuff like light shows and huge granite reliefs of confederate soldiers. You know, touristy luxuries for families to enjoy, the things that lonely hikers like to avoid.

When Evan arrived, we searched the Internet for a better trail, limiting the parameters to Dekalb County. Georgiatrails.com turned up another trail that, like Stone Mountain, travels over a granite outcropping rising above the Georgia forests. No one knows where Arabia Mountain got its name. Even the moderators of the area's Web site are looking for information. But what's for sure is that the place offers a great hike: a great workout (I think we did about 3.5 miles over varying elevations), good views of the sunset, interesting geological structures and low crowds even on the weekend. Also, Arabia Mountain is free and has a name that is hands-down way more interesting and exotic than Stone Mountain. Nobody's scratching their heads about that one.

As is the case with most trips Evan and I undertake, there was adventure by the bucketload. During one of our off-trail ventures, we found a chicken farm, and we trespassed on some people's driveways as we thrashed through the trees, trying to find our way back to the road through the encroaching darkness. Although we could see the tips of skyscrapers peeking over the distant trees to the West and Delta planes swooped into the airport like red-tailed hawks, this was Southeast Dekalb, and Atlanta's cityscape was the farthest thing from our minds. (One of our most exciting discoveries was an animal rescue facility, which I'll post about later.)

After almost two hours of breathing afresh, we dodged a brake-slamming, tire-squealing near-collision on the interstate and made it back to civilization in time to pick Katy up from work. Although it's more than 20 minutes away, Dekalbi Arabia is my new place to roam.