Israel's immigrant children fight deportation

[Peikko 1,575]

Being criminal is not a function of being poor. However, the kind of crime that is disruptive to normal civic behavior (violent crime, public drunkenness, etc.) does occur much more in communities with larger concentrations of poor people. I don't care to analyze why, I leave that to the sociologists.

Have you ever watched 'The Hills'? That program is stuffed full or rich louts acting stupidly, lots of public drunkeness but no one cares because everyone wants to be like them. I can't tell one from the other, they are all generic teenagers,/young adults. They can't speak either, every sentence starts with 'well, she was like, and he was like'. Idiots.

[jundp 191]

I don't think anyone said it was wrong... or hypocritical of them, they are doing the very thing one would expect.

What I don't get is the whole "Because of Jewish history" thing.

Look, lets say Ireland were to be flooded by.... oh I don't know, Eskimo's to the point that by doing the math it was clear in a few generations the "Irish" people would be endangered of being over-run on their own homeland.

Why would they need a terrible, Historical legacy ( such as Jews have) to take action to preserve their people and country?

Well, I understand what you're saying, however I think Israel is unique because it's such a young country and it's a direct result of WWII.

Ireland is probably a bad example...1170, Henry II, plantations of Scots in Northern Ireland....800 years of fighting and ultimately a division which has led to quite a mess (understatement), but I get your point.

However, I think thousands of years of persecution and the birth of a nation as a result of something as awful as WWII is reason enough for Israel to want a Jewish majority.

[w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r 123]

How about a few of the more interesting experiences?

I don't like the idea of starting a thread about me.

But I'll give you one little story right here.

I'm visiting my uncle and his family. They live in a slightly lower income and extremely congested part of the city. I've been to his place a few times and have some memories of what the approach to it looks like. But in a city which has so few street signs and where makeshift buildings are torn down and rebuilt all the time, finding your way around after a gap of five years (the last time I went to India) is not easy. So I'm in a taxi and as usual the taxi driver doesn't know his way around. Most taxi drivers in Kolkata today are migrants from other states. They don't even speak the language. Kolkata residents have to talk to them in Hindi (often broken, Hindi isn't the native languge) just to communicate. Thankfully, I do speak Hindi reasonably well so I'm trying to navigate this guy to my destination. At some point, I realize I'm lost. Nothing looks familiar anymore. I expected a temple on the right and then to turn right after it. But there are so many temples now. And they all look the same. Fuсk me. I ask the taxi driver to ask someone for directions. In any Indian city, there are always people just hanging out by the street. Do they have jobs? What do they eat? Where do they get money? I have no idea. It doesn't matter. Maybe they can help. Let's ask. So he asks, in Hindi. He's ignored. So I ask, this time in Bangla (the local language). They ask me where I'm from. Fuсk my accent. I repeat the question. They laugh. I tell the taxi guy to just keep driving. We'll figure it out. Eventually I do, about an hour later. I find that goddamn temple. Woot. Turn right, turn right. He says, I can't. Whaddaya mean I can't? The road ain't wide enough. But it was 5 years ago, I think. But I look and.. it isn't anymore. Squatters on both sides have taken about umm a foot of space. No more room for a car. So I get off, pay the man. As is normal in India because I sound American, no one has change. Fuсk you! They know the 110 rupee bill isn't a big deal to me and I'll happily leave him 150 Rupees if the other option means looking for change. They're all right. I hate them for takign advantage but I'd like to move on. Take my money, bitсh. Take it all. Actually, here are 3 50s. Keep the change, mofo. So now I'm on foot. Watch where you step, I hear my grandma say. She's been dead for years but she used to tell me that when I was in India as a child. Yeah, she didn't see these streets. Avoid the #######? Not happening here. I'll just step right in it. When I get back to the US, remind me to burn these shoes. And these jeans too. Ugh. So as I'm walking, I see the homeopathic pharmacy that was there five years ago. Finally, something familiar! My uncles house is a left turn at the pharmacy into a narrow alley. I turn in and hear a growl. A stray dog doesn't like me. He starts barking. Loudly. #######. Now what? Whatever, I keep walking. The dog is behind me. Barking. Not coming any closer though. I don't know what to make of it. I finally reach his house. We say hello, we catch up. They feed me. Now it's time for the ritual afternoon nap. I lie down, only to be woken up half an hour later by loud music. Very loud music. I look out the window and someone's playing music from a very large speaker in the alley. My uncle's wife comes in, says don't worry it will stop. I ask her, who are they? Apparently, they're running an illegal speaker business in the neighborhood. They build them somewhere else and bring them into this neighborhood for testing. They can't test them in the other location because it's "posh" and the neighbors have political connections. Out here, the neighbors are people like my uncle. Total nobodies. They could complain but nobody would care. Who are you again? A very common question asked by people. Who are you? They're not asking you for your name. They're asking you why you matter.

Have you ever watched 'The Hills'? That program is stuffed full or rich louts acting stupidly, lots of public drunkeness but no one cares because everyone wants to be like them. I can't tell one from the other, they are all generic teenagers,/young adults. They can't speak either, every sentence starts with 'well, she was like, and he was like'. Idiots.

So I tell you what's actually happening around here and you tell me about a TV show? Sorry but that's approaching Boo Yah territory.

Edited February 27, 2010 by w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r

[Danno 1,228]

I haven't read your study. But I will tell you, anecdotally, I enjoy life in the multicultural part of the world I live in today (and have lived in for over 16 years). I'll also say something very politically incorrect and openly admit why I think it works, and works well. Because in the section of NJ we've carved out for ourselves, the parts we live in and work in and shop in and dine in, there is no major concentration of poor people. To me, what fuсks up neighborhoods and towns isn't people of a certain color or ethnic background. What fuсks them up are poor people. Poor people of any color.

I don't think the report will suggest that Multi cultural areas "don't work", they simply don't work better and clearly they often don't work as well. Not that people are attacking each other on the bus-line but that people tend to withdraw from their neighbors, community involvement decreases, people feel less safe.... in so many measurable ways, community's declines, even if people enjoy the wider choice of foods in the market or the interesting conversations one might have on occasion with a neighbor.

We see more Korean or AME churches than we do churches with a mix reflective of the town. We see sports leagues centered around this group of that.

In fact we see so many ethnic bars, civics groups and Churches one has every opportunity to part take in all kinds of Multicultural weekends and evening but for some reason, so few do it. (Eateries and annual festivals excluded of course).

Again, I am only trying to poke my finger in the eye of those who claim multicultural societies are better are stronger, I don't believe that to be the case but I would be willing to consider evidence of it... if someone has it.

[w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r 123]

I don't think the report will suggest that Multi cultural areas "don't work", they simply don't work better and clearly they often don't work as well.

All I'm saying to you is I enjoy life here. I feel very safe and know all my neighbors (each of them is colored differently than others).

All our biases are shaped by our experiences. I realize that. Your experiences have shaped your biases, mine have shaped mine. I would never want to live in a community more homogeneous than this.

Edited February 27, 2010 by w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r

[one...two...tree 2,762]

I don't like the idea of starting a thread about me.

But I'll give you one little story right here.

I'm visiting my uncle and his family. They live in a slightly lower income and extremely congested part of the city. I've been to his place a few times and have some memories of what the approach to it looks like. But in a city which has so few street signs and where makeshift buildings are torn down and rebuilt all the time, finding your way around after a gap of five years (the last time I went to India) is not easy. So I'm in a taxi and as usual the taxi driver doesn't know his way around. Most taxi drivers in Kolkata today are migrants from other states. They don't even speak the language. Kolkata residents have to talk to them in Hindi (often broken, Hindi isn't the native languge) just to communicate. Thankfully, I do speak Hindi reasonably well so I'm trying to navigate this guy to my destination. At some point, I realize I'm lost. Nothing looks familiar anymore. I expected a temple on the right and then to turn right after it. But there are so many temples now. And they all look the same. Fuсk me. I ask the taxi driver to ask someone for directions. In any Indian city, there are always people just hanging out by the street. Do they have jobs? What do they eat? Where do they get money? I have no idea. It doesn't matter. Maybe they can help. Let's ask. So he asks, in Hindi. He's ignored. So I ask, this time in Bangla (the local language). They ask me where I'm from. Fuсk my accent. I repeat the question. They laugh. I tell the taxi guy to just keep driving. We'll figure it out. Eventually I do, about an hour later. I find that goddamn temple. Woot. Turn right, turn right. He says, I can't. Whaddaya mean I can't? The road ain't wide enough. But it was 5 years ago, I think. But I look and.. it isn't anymore. Squatters on both sides have taken about umm a foot of space. No more room for a car. So I get off, pay the man. As is normal in India because I sound American, no one has change. Fuсk you! They know the 110 rupee bill isn't a big deal to me and I'll happily leave him 150 Rupees if the other option means looking for change. They're all right. I hate them for takign advantage but I'd like to move on. Take my money, bitсh. Take it all. Actually, here are 3 50s. Keep the change, mofo. So now I'm on foot. Watch where you step, I hear my grandma say. She's been dead for years but she used to tell me that when I was in India as a child. Yeah, she didn't see these streets. Avoid the #######? Not happening here. I'll just step right in it. When I get back to the US, remind me to burn these shoes. And these jeans too. Ugh. So as I'm walking, I see the homeopathic pharmacy that was there five years ago. Finally, something familiar! My uncles house is a left turn at the pharmacy into a narrow alley. I turn in and hear a growl. A stray dog doesn't like me. He starts barking. Loudly. #######. Now what? Whatever, I keep walking. The dog is behind me. Barking. Not coming any closer though. I don't know what to make of it. I finally reach his house. We say hello, we catch up. They feed me. Now it's time for the ritual afternoon nap. I lie down, only to be woken up half an hour later by loud music. Very loud music. I look out the window and someone's playing music from a very large speaker in the alley. My uncle's wife comes in, says don't worry it will stop. I ask her, who are they? Apparently, they're running an illegal speaker business in the neighborhood. They build them somewhere else and bring them into this neighborhood for testing. They can't test them in the other location because it's "posh" and the neighbors have political connections. Out here, the neighbors are people like my uncle. Total nobodies. They could complain but nobody would care. Who are you again? A very common question asked by people. Who are you? They're not asking you for your name. They're asking you why you matter.

Interesting.

[w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r 123]

Interesting.

It is. That's one reason social conversations in India always include the subtle and not so subtle name-drop ("I know the Chief Minister", for example) and mentions of how much ѕhit one has (inside the bank and outside), who one's ancestors were ("my grandpa was a Chief Justice", for example), etc. If the people you're talking to think you're a nobody, you are a nobody.

Edited February 28, 2010 by w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r

[one...two...tree 2,762]

It is. That's one reason social conversations in India always include the subtle and not so subtle name-drop ("I know the Chief Minister", for example) and mentions of how much ѕhit one has (inside the bank and outside), who one's ancestors were ("my grandpa was a Chief Justice", for example), etc. If the people you're talking to think you're a nobody, you are a nobody.

Isn't that slowly changing though? Old remnants from the caste system?

[w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r 123]

Isn't that slowly changing though? Old remnants from the caste system?

Nobody asks about caste anymore. At least not the people I meet. Now it's all about status as derived from your wealth and connections.

[Peikko 1,575]

I don't like the idea of starting a thread about me.

But I'll give you one little story right here.

I'm visiting my uncle and his family. They live in a slightly lower income and extremely congested part of the city. I've been to his place a few times and have some memories of what the approach to it looks like. But in a city which has so few street signs and where makeshift buildings are torn down and rebuilt all the time, finding your way around after a gap of five years (the last time I went to India) is not easy. So I'm in a taxi and as usual the taxi driver doesn't know his way around. Most taxi drivers in Kolkata today are migrants from other states. They don't even speak the language. Kolkata residents have to talk to them in Hindi (often broken, Hindi isn't the native languge) just to communicate. Thankfully, I do speak Hindi reasonably well so I'm trying to navigate this guy to my destination. At some point, I realize I'm lost. Nothing looks familiar anymore. I expected a temple on the right and then to turn right after it. But there are so many temples now. And they all look the same. Fuсk me. I ask the taxi driver to ask someone for directions. In any Indian city, there are always people just hanging out by the street. Do they have jobs? What do they eat? Where do they get money? I have no idea. It doesn't matter. Maybe they can help. Let's ask. So he asks, in Hindi. He's ignored. So I ask, this time in Bangla (the local language). They ask me where I'm from. Fuсk my accent. I repeat the question. They laugh. I tell the taxi guy to just keep driving. We'll figure it out. Eventually I do, about an hour later. I find that goddamn temple. Woot. Turn right, turn right. He says, I can't. Whaddaya mean I can't? The road ain't wide enough. But it was 5 years ago, I think. But I look and.. it isn't anymore. Squatters on both sides have taken about umm a foot of space. No more room for a car. So I get off, pay the man. As is normal in India because I sound American, no one has change. Fuсk you! They know the 110 rupee bill isn't a big deal to me and I'll happily leave him 150 Rupees if the other option means looking for change. They're all right. I hate them for takign advantage but I'd like to move on. Take my money, bitсh. Take it all. Actually, here are 3 50s. Keep the change, mofo. So now I'm on foot. Watch where you step, I hear my grandma say. She's been dead for years but she used to tell me that when I was in India as a child. Yeah, she didn't see these streets. Avoid the #######? Not happening here. I'll just step right in it. When I get back to the US, remind me to burn these shoes. And these jeans too. Ugh. So as I'm walking, I see the homeopathic pharmacy that was there five years ago. Finally, something familiar! My uncles house is a left turn at the pharmacy into a narrow alley. I turn in and hear a growl. A stray dog doesn't like me. He starts barking. Loudly. #######. Now what? Whatever, I keep walking. The dog is behind me. Barking. Not coming any closer though. I don't know what to make of it. I finally reach his house. We say hello, we catch up. They feed me. Now it's time for the ritual afternoon nap. I lie down, only to be woken up half an hour later by loud music. Very loud music. I look out the window and someone's playing music from a very large speaker in the alley. My uncle's wife comes in, says don't worry it will stop. I ask her, who are they? Apparently, they're running an illegal speaker business in the neighborhood. They build them somewhere else and bring them into this neighborhood for testing. They can't test them in the other location because it's "posh" and the neighbors have political connections. Out here, the neighbors are people like my uncle. Total nobodies. They could complain but nobody would care. Who are you again? A very common question asked by people. Who are you? They're not asking you for your name. They're asking you why you matter.

So I tell you what's actually happening around here and you tell me about a TV show? Sorry but that's approaching Boo Yah territory.

This is outside my experience, your posting something and expecting it to be seriously at face value and without a little noose ready for one's neck. I have never lived anywhere where I can point and say, look, those are the poor people, see how they hang around street corners and break the law. The only people that hang around street corners here are people looking for a days work and no, I have no idea if they are legal or not and it's not my place to ask.

[w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r 123]

This is outside my experience, your posting something and expecting it to be seriously at face value and without a little noose ready for one's neck. I have never lived anywhere where I can point and say, look, those are the poor people, see how they hang around street corners and break the law. The only people that hang around street corners here are people looking for a days work and no, I have no idea if they are legal or not and it's not my place to ask.

That was for spooky, not you.

[one...two...tree 2,762]

This is outside my experience, your posting something and expecting it to be seriously at face value and without a little noose ready for one's neck. I have never lived anywhere where I can point and say, look, those are the poor people, see how they hang around street corners and break the law. The only people that hang around street corners here are people looking for a days work and no, I have no idea if they are legal or not and it's not my place to ask.

MC, I think what AJ was saying about poor people is not a condemnation of the people themselves, but of the condition which he has indicated on many occasions, is mostly beyond their control. Poverty is a condition, not a way of life.

[spookyturtle 9,466]

That was for spooky, not you.

Thank you, much appreciated. That sounds so totally different than anything I have experienced. So there aren't many rules in the section where your uncle lives? Is it safe there? Is there a lot of street and petty crime or does everyone look out for each other? The part about the street not being wide enough really got me. They buildings just encroached onto the street area. Wow. I would love to hear more when you are up to it.

[Danno 1,228]

MC, I think what AJ was saying about poor people is not a condemnation of the people themselves, but of the condition which he has indicated on many occasions, is mostly beyond their control. Poverty is a condition, not a way of life.

Steve you are seriously drinking the kool aide my friend.

What is so hard about getting a job and just showing up for work, soon you learn some kind of skill and you move up.

ONe need not even finish high school for this tried and true method.

I have people in my extended family that fit this exact profile, one works for an exterminator. He owns his own house.... and still has lots of beer money.

[w¡n9Nµ7 §£@¥€r 123]

Thank you, much appreciated. That sounds so totally different than anything I have experienced. So there aren't many rules in the section where your uncle lives? Is it safe there? Is there a lot of street and petty crime or does everyone look out for each other? The part about the street not being wide enough really got me. They buildings just encroached onto the street area. Wow. I would love to hear more when you are up to it.

Rules? Lots of rules. Indian bureaucrats are experts at making rules. What lacks is enforcement. No, there isn't much street or petty crime. Everyone knows everyone.