The Taj Mahal

There was a T-shirt on sale in the town of Agra, where the Taj Mahal is located which proclaimed "Go Via Agra and witness man's greatest erection for a woman" lol, yeah ok, I know it's kinda crude but you gotta admit it is funny, and quite true actually. The Taj Mahal was, in fact, built for the love of a woman. It stands as an amazing monument to love and the great heartache of love lost. So now here it is in pictures and stories as I experienced it.

Me and an English fellow named John I'd met the evening before at dinner agreed to get up at the butt crack of dawn to beat the crowds and see the Taj Mahal. So at 5:30 AM we found ourselves to be the only ones in line waiting to buy a ticket to enter which we were allowed to do at 6:00 and in we walked...the first two people through the gate.

After you walk through the outer courtyard and head towards the main gate this is the view which greets you and your heart starts thumping and you get a goofy sorta grin on your face as it begins to dawn on you that you've finally made it, after all the travel and difficulties, you're only steps away from one of the great wonders of the world.

Then there it is, in all its splendor and white marble, the Taj Mahal. Built to be the eternal resting place of Shah Jahan's true love, Mumtaz. The story goes that the beloved Mumtaz died giving birth to her 16th child. No wonder Shah Jahan felt so bad and went to such lengths for the poor gal, he killed her by knocking her up 16 times, she must have spent her whole life pregnant!

The Taj Mahal is surrounded by four minarets but since it's actually a tomb and not a mosque they're not used for calling the faithful to prayer but simply as towering decorations.

They say it took 20,000 workers 12 years just to complete the main tomb building, and when you get up close you can see why it would have taken so long with the intricate carvings and inlay work, the small details are just as beautiful as the building as a whole.

The Taj Mahal was constructed using materials from all over India and Asia. Over 1,000 elephants were used to transport building materials during the construction. The translucent white marble was brought from Rajasthan, the jasper from Punjab, jade and crystal from China. The turquoise was from Tibet and the Lapis lazuli from Afghanistan, while the sapphire came from Sri Lanka and the carnelian from Arabia. In all, twenty eight types of precious and semi-precious stones were inlaid into the white marble.

Agra Fort in the distance

The story goes that as Shah Jahan was advancing in years that he decided to build an identical Taj on the other side of the river from the original one only this one would be made entirely of black marble. His son, the heir to the throne, had other ideas since the building of the first one had all but bankrupt the kingdom (they say the price tag was somewhere in the billions of dollars in todays money) So the son placed the father under a kind of house arrest and forced him to live out the remainder of his days in an apartment built for him, out of marble of course, atop the walls of the Agra Fort which he was never allowed to leave. He apparently spent the last 7 years of his life gazing across the river at the Taj Mahal and mourning the loss of Mumtaz, his one true love.

Shah Jahan's marble apartment built on the walls of the Agra Fort facing across the Yamuna river to the Taj Mahal.

I dunno what the Indians call this critter but it looked to me like a squirrel accidentally humped a chipmunk and out popped this little guy.

Later in the day we went to the other side of the river to take pictures of the Taj from that vantage point where there was a little kid who would not stop harassing me until I let him take a picture of me "holding" the Taj Mahal...for which he later wanted some compensation for, of course.

Here's a view of the Taj Mahal from the roof of my hotel just after sunset. I would have taken the picture at sunset but there was a monkey on the roof enjoying the view during that time and well...you know how I feel about monkeys, so I wasn't about to disturb him.

Taj Mahal Quote of the Day:

ENTRY FEES:

Taj entry fee for foreigners - 750 Rupees (17.83 USD)
Taj entry fee for Indians - 20 Rupees (0.47 USD)

Does that seem fair to you? Now don't get me wrong, I'm familiar with the idea of a discount for locals but lets at least try to be a little equitable.

Shimla

Sorry it's been a month late in coming but here's the next update in the India saga that was most of my summer. In this installment we'll take a look at the beautiful Himalayan town of Shimla in pictures and anecdotes. Feel free to click on the images to enlarge them to their full size.

Ahhh...Shimla, a truly beautiful, cool town and I mean that both in temperature and state of being.

There always seemed to be something going on up on "The Ridge" near the church. This couple was dancing to the song the man behind them was singing acapella. I love the look on this dude's face, so typical of this area, the men chasing the women and the women seemingly indifferent.

Mmmmm...Chicken Tikka with some stuffed Kulcha on the side...I miss you

Here's my British classmate and study partner/drinking buddy being attacked by a random roaming cow. Yes, it may look as though he's just stroking ole Bessy behind the ears but tis not so. Actually Bessy got rather annoyed when Stephen stood in front of her to take her picture so she, wishing she had horns, rammed her head into his belly basically telling him to piss off, lol, moody cow.

Here's Stephen with Naveen, our Koenig trainer, in our classroom. Stephen's going for the grandaddy of all Koenig courses, the MCSE career track, which is a 3 month intensive program and Naveen gets the pleasure of being his trainer for the whole time...at the end of which they will either be fast friends or one of them will lay bleeding and dying on the floor.

As I mentioned Shimla is cool, even downright cold at night which surprised me everyone kept saying how hot India was going to be, but not in the mountains it ain't. So being that all I had with me were Saipan clothes I had to buy a jacket, hat and some long pants. So here's me taking a picture of my new getup in the mirror of the fancyass Clark Hotel where we had an outrageously overpriced dinner.

Here's a picture of some Chicken Masala which I'm pretty sure was responsible for my next four days of absolute agony. I dunno how else to explain it except to say that it felt like someone was stabbing me in the stomach after which time my backside would literally explode. At the time I was going through a roll of toilet paper per day.

We came across this guy and his herd of water buffalo on the way to Hatu Peak. In order for our car to pass he forced his flock up onto the precipitous hillside, where they started to slip and stumble...I was sure one of them was going to roll down that hill into our car.

Here I am at the top of Hatu Peak (3400 meters). I was still suffering from some gastrointestinal issues when we reached the summit so for the first time in my life I was forced to find a tree, squat, and spend some quality time communing with nature. That smile is a giant grin of relief!

No, don't worry they haven't been shot in the head, they're just the rarely encountered British Hindu, also known as Rob and Stephen. Stephen had a habit of rubbing his forehead thus smearing red dot all over his brow.

On the way back to Delhi from Shimla I had a ten hour bus ride which was made even longer by the fact that we suddenly ran into a landslide on one of those steep, and I do mean steep, switchback mountain roads. So, our intrepid bus driver, stopped the coach, sighed, picked up a sledgehammer he kept on hand for just such an occasion and started whacking away. After he tired some of the other passengers would take a few turns smacking at the rock to make a path for our bus. I offered my services but he took one look at me and insisted that I sit and watch, now I know I'm a pretty big wuss but something in his demeanor made me think that I had probably paid 5 times as much as the other passengers...ah well, such is India.

Finally we were able to squeeze the old Volvo "Luxury Coach" through and it was on to Delhi...or so we thought...

Unfortunately it was not to be, we got about an hour outside of Delhi when the bus broke down. The bus driver told everyone to get out, opened the doors to the luggage hold, pointed south and basically said "Delhi's that way" before flagging down one of the overcrowded local buses which miraculously absorbed him and the rest of the Indian passengers leaving me and the two Dutch fellows sitting on side of the road in the middle of Whoknowswhere, India staring at half a dozen guys who didn't have a full set of teeth between them but who did manage enough English to say "You go Delhi?" "2000 rupee!" sigh...Ai Adai...

India Quote of the Day:

"Yes"

-it's the default answer to every question regardless of whether its true or not...Can I have some more toilet paper? "Yes" Is this really chicken? "Yes" Do you have any beer besides Kingfisher? "Yes" Do you secretly enjoy dressing in womens clothing at night when no one else is around? slight pause..."Yes?"

The Attack of the Pooping Monkeys

At about 5:30 one morning I woke up to what sounded like someone walking outside my door, this was then followed by a low growling sound, like a small dog would make. As I slowly rise up in the bed, obviously somewhat alarmed, I hear what sounds like someone's hand on the door lever, so at first I just thought it was the guy bringing tea and since he had just walked on in once before I thought maybe he was going to forego the whole knocking thing and just enter.

Well at that point the door handle did in fact turn all the way and the door swung open about 4 inches or so and was followed by that shall we say disconcerting growling sound again. Now I'm in full freak out mode as I'm realizing that there is something definately non-human out there and 1. it had just managed to open my door...surprising and 2. it did NOT sound friendly.

Now the adrenaline is really pumping as I jump from the bed clothed only in my boxers and slam the door shut. This is followed by more growling and scrabbling at the door and the freakiest thing is I can feel this creature trying to turn the handle. Well my mind is racing trying to wake up and figure out what the hell is going on, I mean I'm thinking this is just a dog but dogs don't turn handles!?

At this point I'm looking out the window trying to get a glimpse of whatever it is that is trying to get itself into my room but I can't see anything. I check the door peephole but there's nothing. Then I slowly turn to the window on the other wall as I am on the room at the end and as I press my face up to the glass for a better angle, suddenly this furry face appears in the window astonishingly close causing me to simultaneously wet myself and scream like a girl.

Suddenly the mind kicks in, they're monkeys and there must be at least a half dozen of them as I hear them running past the windows and there's still one trying the door. "What do they want?" I wonder as I finally figure out how to lock the door and I race to make sure the windows are secured. As I get to one window I see a rather large monkey sitting on the ledge and I scream "Go Away" and he jumps up and scratches at the window.



Ok, that's it! Now I've gone from scared outta my mind to pissed off mode and I'm looking for a little payback. That's when I notice a lighter sitting on the table. Ah Ha! That's it! What separates man from animals...Fire! So I grab my little aresol can of body spray and think I'll make a homemade flame thrower like we used to do when we were kids and I'll show this little apeass punk who's at the top of the so called evolutionary ladder.

Armed with the lighter in one hand and the body spray in the other I do a little one, two, three countdown and throw the door open screaming like Rambo with an AK-47 under each arm.

Its here I realize that chemical companies have come a long way in the 20 years since I was a kid in making comsumer products safer and keeping stupid children from blowing themselves up. Sooo...instead of toasting thier primate asses with an impressive ball of flame all I ended up doing was deoderizing the little bastards. Fortunatly they didn't seem to appreciate the sex appeal of Tag body spray and they scattered.

They did, however, leave me a little present, as you can see from the picture I took after I was sure the coast was clear. It would appear that all they wanted was some toilet paper so they could wipe their little monkey butts after having a little monkey poo. Somehow things just sound funnier when you say "monkey" in front of them.



India Roadsign Quote of the Day:

"Whiskey is Risky, Drink and Drive Carefully"

Delhi to Shimla

So...after the fun filled adventure that was Air India I thought maybe I'd be in for a break, you know, maybe things would go smoothly from here on in...but alas, it was not to be. As I mentioned I arrived quite late into Dehli but was able to get through immigration and customs without a problem and, due to the late hour, fairly quickly. I felt sorry for the poor cabbie who had been sent to pick me up as he had apparently been there waiting for me for close on 5 hours. He seemed to take it all in stride though and away we went through the dark and quite dusty streets of New Delhi to a hotel where I was shown to a room and promptly crashed out.

Only to be abruptly awoken at 6am with a knock on the door informing me that my taxi would be there at 7am to take me to the bus terminal where I would board a bus for Shimla, the town in the Himalayan foothills where I'd be taking my computer certification course. So, surprisingly prompt, I was whisked away to the bus station, which I must say looked like it had seen some better days...like 75 years ago. But a bus station it was and so I loaded the bus and again, things moved fairly efficiently as the bus rolled out only about 15 minutes after its scheduled departure. Cool, I thought, things are moving along ok. And things did, in fact move along ok...that is...until we hit a town called Chandigarh, not sure about the spelling on that. But that's when traffic hit a brick wall, we honestly didn't move more than 5 feet in almost an hour...it was mind numbing. But just like I alluded too, Air India was just an intro to the patience building exercise that is travel in India.

After we finally cleared the traffic jam, and trying to describe a traffic jam here is like trying to explain why lemmings follow one another over a cliff, you see it happening but it just doesn't make any sense. Anyway, after we cleared the traffic jam, it was straight up into the mountains, and not just any mountains, we're talking the Himalayan mountains...the tallest mountain range in the world. And trust me, it lives up to its reputation. They consider these the "foothills" but I don't see anything "hilly" about these honest to goodness mountains. In fact, Shimla, the town where I'm taking my course is at 7100 feet, so if that's a foothill than the mountains we have back in Virginia are mere anthills.



Although we were about 3 hours late, at least we did manage to make it into Shimla safe and sound, which is saying something considering how our driver was driving a full size Volvo bus on these curvy roads like he was behind the wheel of a Ferrari in a TV commercial.



Stay tuned for more on the interesting town of Shimla and its wicked wildlife...

India Roadsign Quote of the Day:
"Haryana Police: Better late than never"

Air India

I know I haven't posted in awhile but that's because I've been quite busy gearing up for my trip to India. Which happens to be where this post is being sent from though it was written earlier. As you might imagine finding a way to post whilst abroad can be a challenge. But anyway here we go with part 1. How I came to be in this facinating land.

 

I actually traveled through Singapore in order to get to New Delhi so thats where this picks up, in the Singpore airport to be exact. Waiting, and waiting, and then waiting a little more, for good ole reliable (cough cough) Air India to finally decide to take off. I actually traveled through Singapore in order to get to New Delhi so thats where this picks up, in the Singpore airport to be exact. Waiting, and waiting, and then waiting a little more, for good ole reliable (cough cough) Air India to finally decide to take off.

 

We were scheduled to depart Singapore at 4:25 pm which upon arrival at the airport I found out had been bumped to 7:25 pm. Ok...I now have 3 hours to kill in an airport, but fortunately I was not in just any old airport I was in the Singpore airport which is a tourist destination in its own right. So I took advantage of the free internet and foot massage as well as the complimentary meal ticket the airline gave out as a token of goodwill. I walked up to the restaurant to claim my free meal and was asked if I prefered #$%^$ or the *&&#@!...yeah that's about how much of it I understood. The guy took one look at my blank face and was like "is this your first time to India?" uh yeah and I got a ton to learn about this food unless I wanna eat nothing but chicken curry for a month.

 

The gentleman helped me to select the utthabam (hope I spelt that right) bread meal with a tomato sauce and a coconut based sauce to dip it in and some lentil soup, ok, not so bad, I'm feeling all Indian and I haven't even left Singapore yet.

 

Then on to gate C16 as it says right here on my boarding pass. But, after walking allll the way down the looong C corridor I arrive at an empty gate. Whoa cool, I'm the only one going to India today...wait a minute, there's a sign saying gate changed to D41. Huh!? Lets just say if C16 were good ole Richmond Virginia then they were asking me to walk to Richmond California, in like 10 minutes.

 

So I haul ass to the waiting area where they do the security screening and took my shaving gel?? Mind you it had made it through like 3 airports already but whatever. In the waiting room area at the gate is where things get fun and I learn a few cultural tidbits. First of all an Indians idea of personal space and my idea of it are quite different.  They seem quite happy to bunch all up at the gate door, so much so that the lady at the gate was like "you know there's plenty of room over there, like where that white guy is sitting". They seemed to take a quick glance and decided, nope there was just too much space between them and the coveted gate.

 

The other thing that strikes me is how they all decided to completly disregard the stated directions. The lady comes on the loud speaker and clearly states that they will be boarding rows 18 through 32, in fact she says this a few times. So the entire waiting room jumps up and forms this massive chaotic line leaving yours truly as the only one still seated. Yippe! This must mean that I'm the only one in rows 1 through 18! Wow, I'm going to have SO much room, 18 rows all to myself, what luck. I hope all 250 of you aren't too crowded back there in those 14 little rows.

 

Now I must acknowlege here that it's becoming quite clear that I am the ONLY white dude...check that, I'm pretty sure I'm the only non-Indian on this flight and I am feelin my minority status big time.

 

Well somehow or other everyone manages to get on the plane but because I followed directions there's nowhere for me to stow my luggage so its between the legs for 5 and a half hours I guess. But as I'm walking to my seat in ROW 8 after everyone else in rows 1-32...grumble grumble... I notice a few things that cause some consternation on my part. Let's just say that well...any plane that still has a working ashtray has probably been around for awhile...hmm...didn't they ban smoking on airlines in the 70's?

 

Apparently you do not have to worry about being late for an Air India flight.Good news if you're the ONE late person, bad news if you're the ENTIRE REST OF THE PLANE. We were supposed to leave at 7:25pm right...we left at 8pm "because we're waiting for another passenger". Ai adai...it had better be Mahatma Ghandi himself to keep us waiting that long.

 

After reaching our cruising altitude I was treated to my first Bollywood movie.Which I have to say I was pretty impressed with, I can see why this stuff is becoming so popular the world over. It was a funny little flick about 4 mental patients called Krazzy 4. Granted it might not have been so politically correct in the West but we get uptight about that kind of thing too much anyways if you ask me. I dunno if you'd call it a comedy or a musical though cuz every now and then they'd suddenly burst into song and dance routines which were unexpected but quite catchy.

 

Eventually the steward came around asking if I'd like a drink, he suggested a whiskey...well shoot, if you're buyin I say, why not. So he asks "how many do you want, 3, 4?" and I'm thinking wow, this guy wants to get me drunk so I say "I think two should be sufficent". It wasn't until the end of the flight as I was slipping into a dehydrated coma that I realized why he asked how many I wanted...cuz that's the ONLY time you will see his ass, so you'd better get while the gettins good.

 

Finally our trusty old plane landed in New Delhi...at midnight (it was supposed to be there at 7pm).  Ah well...little did I know that this was only going to be the beginning of the patience building exercise that is traveling in India. But stay tuned for more on that later...

 

Air India Quote of the Day:

 

"Would all passengers seated in rows 18 through 32 please board the plane at this time, that's rows 18 through 32! If you are not seated in rows 18 through 32 please remain seated and wait to board the aircraft until we call your row...Thank you for your cooperation."

 

Cold Showers

Ok, while I haven't gone quite as far as Ed suggested we should in terms of modifying our lifestyle (I am still using toilet paper..i found the banana leaf lacked the necessary amount of absorbancy) but we have turned off the water heater. Which, of course means cold showers but hey, its the tropics and its like 90 degrees everyday so obviously it hasn't been as bad as I originally thought. I find a nice cold shower in the morning, and relatively speaking it is pretty cold in the morning, is more effective at waking me up than any cup of coffee could be.

But as the power rates continue their moon bound trend it seems that this will be more of the norm for most folks...I seem to remember bradinthesand posting something recently about his "No Hot Water or Air Con Month" idea. So in a show of solidarity to all the cold shower people on Saipan and around the world...and in an effort to keep with the idea that its better to laugh at the hard times than cry about them, I offer you this quite humorous and VERY true look at men and women in the shower.

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A WOMAN:
· Take off clothing and place it in sectioned laundry hamper according to lights and darks.
· Walk to bathroom wearing long dressing gown. If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.
· Look at your womanly physique in the mirror - make mental note to do more sit-ups/leg-lifts, etc.
· Get in the shower. Use face cloth, arm cloth, leg cloth, longloofah, wide loofahand pumice stone.
· Wash your hair once with cucumber and sage shampoo with 43 added vitamins.
· Wash your hair again to make sure it's clean.
· Condition your hair with grapefruit mint conditioner enhanced.
· Wash your face with crushed apricot facial scrub for 10 minutes until red.
· Wash entire rest of body with ginger nut and jaffa cake body wash.
· Rinse conditioner off hair.
· Shave armpits and legs.
· Turn off shower.
· Squeegee off all wet surfaces in shower.
· Spray mold spots with Tilex.
· Get out of shower.
· Dry with towel the size of a small country.
· Wrap hair in super absorbent towel..
· Return to bedroom wearing long dressing gown and towel on head. If you see husband along the way, cover up any exposed areas.

HOW TO SHOWER LIKE A MAN:
· Take off clothes while sitting on the edge of the bed and leave them in a pile.
· Walk naked to the bathroom.
· If you see wife along the way, shake wiener at her making the woo-woo sound.
· Look at your manly physique in the mirror.
· Admire the size of your wiener and scratch your ass.
· Get in the shower.
· Wash your face.
· Wash your armpits.
· Blow your nose in your hands and let the water rinse them off.
· Fart and laugh at how loud it sounds in the shower.
· Spend majority of time washing privates and surrounding area.
· Wash your butt, leaving those coarse butt hairs stuck on the soap.
· Wash your hair. Make a Shampoo Mohawk.
· Pee.
· Rinse off and get out of shower.
· Partially dry off.
· Fail to notice water on floor because curtain was hanging out of tub the whole time.
· Admire wiener size in mirror again..
· Leave shower curtain open, wet mat on floor, light and fan on.
· Return to bedroom with towel around waist. If you pass wife, pull off towel, shake wiener at her and make the woo-woo sound again.
· Throw wet towel on bed.
If there is anyone among you who did not laugh at the truth behind this,there is something SO very wrong with you. Have a great cold shower! Oh,and....woowoo!!!

The Wow That One Really Came Back to Bite Me Quote of the Day:

CUC Executive Director Antonio Muna, “The new rates might come as a shock for the residential customers, but the only solution to it for now is some modification to their lifestyle.”

WWGCD?

Recently I received a comment from an anonymous poster who was, shall we say, less than thrilled with my HaoHao Haole posting, which I can't say I'm overly surprised at, I thought it was possible it could raise some hackles. Although I figured with my regular minuscule pool of readers it wouldn't be that big of a deal. That is of course, until Turbitt went and wrote a post on his blog about it and posted a link, suddenly traffic to my little parody doubled and with that added exposure came the slightly angry post to which I am alluding.

anonymous said...
Bryan, your comments are not very funny at all. At least Greg Cruz is doing something. All the Hao Hao Haoles ever do is hang out in their Hao Hao Haole hangouts and never really get to understand the culture and people from the local perspective. I noticed everyone who has responded to your blog has enjoyed it thus far. It must be nice to part of the "White Elite" of Saipan. But, you know, its ok, Say what you want, act how you act, but dont be surprised when someone walks up to anyone of on the street and knocks you flat on your ass. Not every "Haole" is like you.

So after reading this threatening post I thought to myself now WWGCD? (What Would Greg Cruz Do? and yes handmade bracelets with those letters will be on sale in a store near you soon with proceeds to benefit the Miura defense fund) And of course the answer was obvious, he'd write a response! Though his would probably take the form of a letter to the editor, since I have this neato little blog all set up from whence I can spew my personal propaganda I decided I'd just as well post it here, so here goes:

First off anonymous says "At least Greg Cruz is doing something". Now, let me clarify by saying that I never mentioned the name of Greg Cruz except to say at the end that he was my inspiration for posting the "HaoHao Haole Manifesto". And I guess I don't really see what's wrong with being someone's inspiration.


But second in response to that I'd like to ask "Really?" no I mean...REALLY? What exactly is the guy doing? I mean I see he's writing letters to the editor and stirring up divisiveness and blowing a lot of hot air but what is he DOing? I mean I hear he's unemployed so he's got plenty of time on his hands, at least he could be volunteering with Beautify CNMI and picking up trash and planting trees or something, that's what I call getting your hands dirty and DOing something to help the island. And shoot, for all I know maybe he's done that, but somehow I doubt it cuz I'm sure it would have made the front page of the local papers since their reporters seem to think it's important to report everything this dude does. Tomorrows headline "GC Has 3 Bowel Movements in One Day" full story on page 2.

As for me...what have I been DOing? Well for the past four years I've been working with the CNMI Public School System teaching indigenous children (or NMD's) how to use technology so that they can hopefully, one day, get ahead in this world. I like to focus on how they can use the internet to broaden their horizons and look beyond their small island. But not so that they can forget about it, exactly the opposite, so that they can go out into the virtual world and learn from that vast body of information which is right there at their fingertips. I pray they'll learn from other's mistakes as well as their successes and use that knowledge to make them better more well rounded and educated citizens of this commonwealth. To hopefully encourage this rising generation to respect their elders, culture and heritage but to look beyond some of the old ways and to challenge the status quo that has led us to these desperate and trying times.

Ai adai, I could go on...but once I get up on my soap box there's no tellin where it would end so I'll back slowly away from it now.

Getting back to the comment in question, however, there was one part of it which made me grin at the irony. Anonymous stated "I noticed everyone who has responded to your blog has enjoyed it thus far. It must be nice to [be] part of the "White Elite" of Saipan." Well lets just say that while I can't speak for lil hammerheads ethnicity I am 100% sure that the other three posters before you are all beautiful brown skinned islanders...so much for the "White Elite".

As to your violent threat "dont be surprised when someone walks up to anyone of on the street and knocks you flat on your ass." Well...I've been here almost 9 years and all I've ever gotten on the street have been wonderful smiles and that tangled local handshake which I'm still trying to work out.

Oh and you're right...not every "Haole" is like me...but they wish they were ;-P

I Couldn't Have Said It Better Myself Quote of the Day:

"I respect what your organization stands for but there’s the right way and the wrong way of doing things. Taotao Tano is an advocate of the people. The people meaning CNMI and U.S. citizens. There are outsiders with children born here making these children “the people” so act for them, too! Our government did it for the “stateless” and the issue in the media went away."

JOE CABRERA