How To Say Yes

Just Never Say NO!

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Abortion

Should abortion be legal? This question has caused a huge controversy and raised countless debates. Issues dealing with moral and health aspects of abortion have been discussed for years. Some say women have freedom over what happens to them and their bodies. Others go in the opposite direction and say it’s murder. Abortion causes health problems. Abortion prevents neglect. These are some of the arguments used when defending different sides of the debate. I believe abortion should be illegal for both moral and health reasons, with the possible exception of certain special cases.
Perhaps one of the best arguments for making abortion legal is that women should have freedom of choice. It’s their body, and they should be able to decide what happens to it. However, abortion is not only about what happens to the mother, it’s also about what happens to the baby. The fetus is to some degree separate from the mother. It’s an individual. Pregnant women are carrying another life inside their bodies, though some fail to take notice of this. The would-be mother should at least consider the other life inside of her and spare it.
Some scientists state that a fetus is not technically a human until premature signs of development occur. According to some religious parties such as Mormons or Fundamentalists, however, “personhood” begins at conception. As soon as the fetus is formed, it is considered to be a living thing. And from that small fetus a baby develops, which is undoubtedly a human.
Many women get abortions because of unplanned pregnancies. This shows irresponsibility, and should not be a legitimate reason for aborting a fetus. You conceived it, now you should take care of it. There are those who say that unwanted babies will be neglected during childhood and become scarred because of that. However, every child should have a chance. There are many loving families who are willing to adopt unwanted children. In addition, there are countless women in the world, unable to bear children, who would love the opportunity to have a baby. Yet others are willing to abort a child because they don’t want to, or can’t, take care of it.
From a health point of view, abortions are dangerous. Medical studies show that women who have abortions may get a uterus infection and become unable to bear children in the future, and it can affect their health in other ways. For instance, medical abortions can cause bleeding for 13-15 days or more; the tools used during an abortion can puncture and damage other organs, which also causes extensive bleeding. Also, twenty one worldwide studies have linked abortions to breast cancer. In the worst case scenario, abortion can result in death of the mother, especially if done during the first three mothers of pregnancy. However, this is rare. Abortion also affects the mental health of the parents. Following an abortion, some men and women experience sadness, guilt, suicidal thoughts, increased drug and alcohol use, and difficulty maintaining relationships. Clearly, there are many health risks associated with abortion. Is it worth compromising a person’s health to end the life another?
It is true that there are cases when abortion could be considered the better of two choices concerning the health of the mother or the unborn child. If the mother’s health or the baby’s health is at risk, many believe abortion is acceptable. In the case of complications with multiple pregnancies, removing one or more or the fetuses is sometimes considered necessary. However, cases like these are not extremely common.
In fact, a study conducted in 1998 in 27 countries on the reasons women seek to terminate pregnancies concluded that common factors which influenced the abortion decision were: “desire to delay or end childbearing concern over the interruption or work or education, issues of financial or relation stability, and perceived immaturity.” An American study conducted in 2002 showed that 54% of women getting an abortion were getting a form of contraception at the time of becoming pregnant while 46% were not. Obviously, irresponsibly seem to be a much bigger influence on abortion than anything health-related.
Abortion on account of rape and incest is also a big issue. Many women want to abort the child because having it around would be a constant reminder of the incident that conceived it. Guilt causes them to abort. However, as rape is usually not provoked, guilt should not be a reason to abort a child, either. Again, there are orphanages that can take in children who are not wanted by their parents, and there are families that would adopt them. Furthermore, pregnancies caused by rape and incest are not very usual. In fact, a 2004 study in America, in which women at clinics answered a questionnaire, showed the cause of pregnancies resulting in abortion. About 1% of women in the survey became pregnant as a result of rape and 0.5% as a result of incest. Clearly, this is not a strong argument in favor of legalizing abortion.
Aborting in any case, with the possible exception of compromised health, is to a certain degree selfish. Just because the woman was irresponsible does not mean the child should suffer. Women more concerned about their career or reputation should think of that before engaging in activities that could result in unplanned pregnancies. The child should not feel unloved purely on account of the feelings of the mother. In addition, cases of women who do not want to accept the consequences of their actions should not justify making abortion legal. Because abortion has been legalized in so many countries, countless unborn babies never see the light of day. Children who are given a chance to be born may become important figures. A baby that is allowed to live may grow up to be a doctor that will save someone’s life or an astronaut that will go to Mars. Why should the baby take the blame for the mother’s actions?

Thursday, May 03, 2007

The House

Next to my apartment building, there is an old ruined two floor house. I can see it very clearly from where I sit in the windowsill, in my bedroom, when I’m bored. At first, I thought no one could live in a building like it, but I realized that not everybody has a house which is “livable” according to western standards.
The house I’m talking about looks forsaken, but smoke rises from its chimney which is one of the few signs that someone is living there. The roof, which is no longer completely covered with snow, is made of thin rusty metal plates. The plates, which are no longer whole plates, have lots of holes in them and the mud and dirt which is used as insulation is visible. There are some unnecessary looking metal poles sticking up from the inside where the power wires and a whole bunch of other cables and wires are attached. They all look like spaghetti which has been boiled a little too long. Long pointy icicles hang down from the edge of the roof and scare the people who walk by them.
The walls are made of very natural looking rock blocks. Their color is a mixture of gray, back and white. There is an unnaturally large space between the blocks which is filled with cement. There are a total of five windows in the front part, which is the only part visible from my point of view. They are all broken in some way, and the windowsills, which were originally white, are now dirty brown. Not only is the paint peeling off, but also the wood itself; it is possible to see huge missing pieces of wood. The curtains inside the windows are a discolored blue and pink plaid. Some of them are half torn down. All of the windows, except the windows in the balcony door, are covered with white painted bars, even those on the second floor. Once they might have looked nice, but now they don’t. Some bars are missing and the white paint has turned black and brown.
A bright yellow water or gas pipe is another element that makes the house look alive; however they look old and the reddish brown rust is clearly visible. One of the window bars on the side of the first floor is covered with dead leaves that fell from a tree which is growing upwards against the wall. On the other side, it is only possible to see the very top of the bars because of a huge blue container, which is probably used as a shed. You can hear a funny sound when the melting icicles from the roof fall and land with a crunch on the top of the container.
On the upper right section, there is a fairly new extension. Even though it was built recently, it looks almost as old as the rest of the house since no one has taken care of it. The white painted walls are not white anymore, but black as the window bars because of the polluted air. The window glass is not whole anymore and large plastic sheets have been put where there is no glass left.
There is a balcony in the middle of the wall on the second floor. It does not look very safe, because it is rests on shaky looking tiny cement blocks which are stacked upon each other. But it might be safe enough, because every morning, during the summer, people are sitting there drinking coffee. Long lines of string, covered with clothes hang from the balcony and over to the left window and another one to the right window.
There is also a small garden outside the house, which seems misplaced; it does not quite fit in with the environment around it. The blue container is placed in the middle of it and the garden looks like it has not been tended for a while.

I have seen different standards of living in different places of the world. What bothers me sometimes is why people don’t focus more on warm insulation and roofs which don’t leak, when they build their houses. I’ll conclude that not everybody is able to do this, either because of economic reasons or because of absence of information.

Thursday, April 05, 2007

How to Make Chocolate-Chunk Blondies

Blondies are small, baked bars made with brown sugar, kind of like blonde brownies. They are very rich and delicious, and not so very difficult to make. The brown sugar is what gives them their blonde color. This recipe yields 16-20 blondies.

First, you have to gather your ingredients. You�ll need to have the following: ½ cup,(113 grams) of softened butter, 1 cup (220 grams) of light brown or medium brown sugar, 1 egg, 1 cup (125 grams) of flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder (4.5 grams), 1/3 cup (152 grams) of chopped walnuts, and 4 ounces (113 grams) of semi-sweet chocolate, chopped. I like to use chocolate chips instead of chopped chocolate. Chocolate chunks also work, but they have to be the large sized ones. To bake it, you will need: an 8-inch or 9-inch square baking pan, which means each side is 8-9 inches (20-22.5 cm) long. You�ll also need some extra butter, some extra flour, some wax paper, a large bowl and a small bowl, an elected mixer, a wooden spoon, and toothpick.

Before you do anything else, you should pre-heat your oven to 350�F (180�C). In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar with the electric mixer on high speed until the mixture is smooth. Then break in the egg, and beat it until the batter is creamy and fluffy. In a separate bowl, mix together the flour and the baking powder. Add that to the large bowl and, with the mixer on medium speed, beat until it is well combined. Stir in the chopped walnuts and the semi-sweet chocolate. Mix together with a wooden spoon. You should have a thick, tan-colored, pasty substance. Butter and flour your baking pan. This means you spread butter on the bottom and sides of the pan and then sprinkle flour over the butter to coat it. Tap out any extra flour after you sprinkle it in. Next, scoop your batter into the pan and even it out. I like to use wax paper to spread it evenly because it doesn�t stick, and it�s more convenient than using a spoon. Put it in the center rack of the oven and bake for 15 to 20 minutes.To see if it�s ready, insert a toothpick into the center of the pan and if it comes out clean, then it�s done. If a few crumbs stick to the toothpick, bake it for a few more minutes.
When it�s ready, take it out and let it cool. When it�s cooled completely, cut it up into 16 large squares or 20 medium squares. Blondies go very well with a glass of cold milk or a cup of hot coffee.

How to Make Water in the Desert

It is very easy to get dehydrated in the desert. If you are stuck or stranded in the desert, you can use the sun to generate a sufficient amount of water for yourself. This method helps to collect water from soil in any climate if given enough sunlight and existent soil moisture. This construction provides water not by some magic or supernatural power, but it has a scietific reason behind it. The two processes: evaporation and condensation, both play a big and major role in this.
In order to begin, you need to dig a curved hole about two feet deep so that the moist subsoil is clearly visible. The more moist soil you explore, the better. It is very important that the hole is dug in the place where there is enough direct sunlight. Next, place an open coffee can, mug, cup, or glass (anything that has an open mouth at the top) in the center of the hole. If you have a length of plastic tubing, you can run it from the bottom of the coffee can out the edge of the hole. This tubing will be used as a straw later.
Then, lay a taut piece of clear plastic wrap across the top of the hole. To create a seal, pour the sand in a circle around the hole along the outside of the plastic wrap about an inch or two from the edge of the plastic. Make sure that the plastic wrap seals the hole shut; if it is punctured the water will not condense. Ensure that the tubing runs underneath the plastic, and that there are no gaps that are not sealed by the sand. Place a small to medium sized rock in the center of the plastic wrap so that the plastic wrap dips to a point above the center of the can, but it shouldn’t touch the can otherwise the entire process will not work. The lowest spot in the platic must be just above the can where the wrap comes to a point.
Now, the easiest and the most important step comes. What one has to do is sit back and wait for the sun to evaporate water out of the moist soil. Evaporation is a state of change from liquid to gas or vapor, which occurs only with the presence of heat. The water will condense on the plastic wrap because it cannot escape the hole. Condensation is the change in matter of a substance to a denser phase, such as a gas (or vapor) to a liquid. It usually occurs when a vapor is cooled.
Then slowly, the water will drip into the can. That is why it is important to keep the plastic wrap from touching the can or else the water will not drip into the can. Given the right soil moisture, this technique can generate an abundance of water! You can use the tubing to suck the water from the can without dismantling the construction. So, you can have a drink while your contraption continues to work.
Once the sun dries the subsoil in that hole, start the process all over again by digging another hole. If you have more than one plastic wrap and cup, then it can be used to construct another one simultaneously and it will not waste a lot of time. This technique is very healthy to purify the water because after evaporation the water becomes free from contaminants, germs, and dirt. One of the tips to increase the concentration of water is by urinating in the hole; this provides extra moisture and it will produce more water because it contains ammonia, which evaporates more readily than water. The urine will also be purified and be clean drinking water once it reaches the can. This process is very convenient when one doesn’t have any other choice, but this doesn’t mean that you don’t need to carry water when you go out into the wilderness.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

The Outdoor Market

Walking down the street at Shuka, the outdoor market, you can pass some interesting sights: Pig heads. They lay on a table. Cut off. Alone. Like fleshy pink balloons. Covered in dust. Bristly as a toothbrush. Huge hairy heads. Brains spurt out from the back like soft wet clay. Bloody, rubbery, squishy brains. Two gigantic hairy ears stick out like stray leaves in a withered bush. A snout protrudes from the head. Shriveled like a round, decomposing, spongy carrot.
Pig feet. Next to the heads. Like large, dead, stiff eels. Sorry pink twigs gathered in a container. Hooves like worn-out granite.
The air reeks of raw meat. The powerful, potent, repulsive, malodorous, stomach-wrenching smell of raw meat that has been basking in the sun too long.
Nearby are little meat huts. The sidewalks are stained with blood, like someone threw a ton of too-old tomatoes down on them. Mushy tomatoes. Dirty tomatoes. Rotten tomatoes. Soggy tomatoes.
Tubs full of animal parts line the street: Livers. Like colossal, slimy slugs bathing in blood; burgundy as a dark, mysterious sunset.
Hearts. Rose-red, like squelchy balls of soft dough soaked in beet juice.
Cow udders. Charcoaled pink. Massive, wobbly. Wrinkly, inflated balls of gelatin with short, stubby fingers sticking out from them.
Cut meat hangs from the ceiling like laundry left out in the rain. Wretched, pathetic, neglected, soggy laundry. The meat-seller’s apron looks like a starched white dance floor where strawberries were just cutting a rug.
Across the street are tiny shops. You can buy fruit, beverages, spices, canned foods, etc. The fruit stand is bursting with color. Apples. Bright golden apples. Like sunbursts in a dreary world of darkness. Red apples. Radiant crimson lumps of passion. Nuts, rice, beans, grains, dates, and seeds. In cases. Reddish brown gems in the Queen’s jewelry box. Bananas. Tempting yellow flashes of lightning piercing the blinding haze. Pineapples. With tops like angry green cacti; warriors waving their daggers in the air. Pomegranates. Feisty scarlet balls of fire shining through a cloud of gray mist. Persimmons. Smooth, glossy; newly polished. Little amber munchkins wearing silky overcoats. Kiwis. In a heap. Brown, shaggy. Lazy old sloths taking a long afternoon nap. Oranges. Beautiful, delicious. Glistening like happiness on a dull, rainy afternoon. Grapes. In bundles. Bursting at the seams. Pale green. Over-stuffed aphids busily swarming on a leaf. Sausage. Dry, spiced beef sausage. Like a flat yak tongue covered in brick-red sandpaper. And sticky soujukh. Long, lustrous. Garlands of icky brown muck. But looks are deceiving. They taste like a bite of chewy, crunchy satisfaction. Chewy molasses enclosing crunchy walnuts. Precious treasures hidden beneath a sneaky sugariness.
Disturbingly fresh pig heads; bloodstained sidewalks; rose-red hearts; bright, happy fruit; sweet, sticky soujukh. Walking down the street at Shuka, you can pass some very interesting sights.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

The Shortcut

My cousin had lived in the city her whole life, but this summer she and her family had moved to the countryside because of her allergies. As often as I’ve had the chance, I’ve visited her. I have spent almost all my summer vacations at her home. She is 12 days older than me, but we are as close as sisters. We learned how to walk on the same day and I have known her as long as I can remember. After I didn’t see her for a year and a half, because of her move, I convinced my mother to let me visit her.
My aunt, my cousin and I were buying food for the weekend. My aunt’s cell phone rang and my cousin’s brother said that he needed my aunt to come home immediately. She decided to leave the shopping to my cousin and me. We said that should be no problem and she gave us money and left. I remember that we bought much more than my aunt had planned, because she forgot to tell us what to buy. We bought lots of sweets and candies, and just some of the food that she wanted us to buy. When we were done shopping and eating our huge ice-cream cones, we started on our way home. Since my cousin just moved to the place, she was not very well oriented, so we decided to follow the way we came by my aunt’s car. After we had walked for a while, we came to an intersection. We both knew which way we came an hour earlier, but for some reason, I don’t remember why, we took the other way. Probably because it looked like it led more in the direction of the house, and according to our coordination we thought it was a shortcut.
We continued walking and started talking about the days when we were kids. Days when there was usually nothing to do, but we enjoyed each other’s company. While walking on a quiet, long road we discussed all the weird things we had done when we were children. We remembered the time when we had put dandelion leaves in my uncle’s salad, which he didn’t notice, and the hot summer day when we had a picnic on her neighbors’ garage roof.
I have always wished to be as tall as my cousin. Once when we were kids, we thought there was something wrong with me, since I was so short compared to her, so we decided to do something about it. We found a tree with a branch that she could reach and I couldn’t. We had brought a chair and I climbed up and grabbed the branch. My cousin removed the chair and then pulled with all her strength to make me reach the ground. Mysteriously enough, it didn’t work. We tried several other methods, but nothing worked, so we concluded that life was unfair.
While talking about old days, we forgot that we were trying to find our way home. We had reached an uninhabited place where canyons were covered with a green carpet of trees. Without noticing how long we had been walking, we found out that we were hungry, so we decided to eat some of the food we just bought and enjoy the view. We counted three cars passing by during the hour we sat there. Since neither of us knew where we were, we decided to walk the five kilometers, which we didn’t know we had walked, back to the shop. With our sense of place, we agreed that the way we had chosen previously led us in a totally wrong direction.
After coming to the intersection again, we went back to the shop and bought another ice-cream with the rest of our money. We went the way we knew was right at the intersection and focused really hard on recognizing the way we had arrived earlier. After ten minutes of walking, my aunt’s car passed by. I don’t think she saw us, because she just drove by us without honking or waving. We turned and ran and shouted like crazy, and then she stopped. She told us that she had been looking for us for an hour, and she wondered where we had been. We told her about the intersection and the nice canyons. After our explanation, she wanted to see that place, so we drove the way we had walked. When we arrived at the place where we had eaten all of our food, my aunt said that place was not far from their house, and just a kilometer later we finally arrived home. The lesson we learned was that what we thought was the wrong way turned out to be a shortcut in the end. It was at least shorter than going all the way back to the shop.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

My great trip to Myra

On our trip to Turkey we were so bored of the sun, beach and swimming pool that we decided to visit Myra, an ancient castle made out of stone. It is about 200 km from Antalya. Obviously, we did not have our own car there, so we decided to rent a car. After that little procedure was over, my mom said that she needed to practice her driving, so, making long story short, that meant my mom is going to be the driver on this trip. I don’t have anything against my mom's driving- oh no, please, of course not! - but I tightened up my seatbelt when sitting in the car. We stopped in the little shop on the way to buy some snacks for the road. I have bought these wonderful wafers with strawberry cream, which I could not wait to open and eat, but my mom said that eating too many sweets is bad for the health and etc. So, I had to wait until we would finally come to Myra. We drove for an hour, and I was pretty exhausted and hungry (at this wonderful time I had very high metabolism).


It is weird but I really believe now that intuition does exist. All the way that we were on the road I was thinking about the easiest way to escape from the car in case of an accident (weird thoughts for a nine-year-old, huh?). And it didn’t wait to happen. On one of the curves the car suddenly turned all the way to the left and landed halfway over the edge of the shore. I saw everything as in a slow motion. It was exactly like in the movies and I think we all thought at that moment that right now the part of the car on the road is going to be heavier than the part in front, and its going to stop right there. However, I think the most disappointing moment of my life happened then- like in some roller-coaster the front window of the car showed us how we came closer and closer to the water, with my wimpish parents shouting and holding me back ( after the shop I forgot to put my seatbelt back on). And suddenly it all stops. The car stops few centimeters before the water. My mom and dad shout -"Get out of the car!"- And I finally use the technique that I had in my head during the whole ride and jump out of the car. We run up the cliffs towards a crowd of people who stopped in order to see what had happened. None of us has any injuries except for a little scratch on my mom's neck. The police-officer tells us that a week ago 5 people died in a car accident right on this place. I guess that was supposed to make us incredibly happy. The next two hours we have spent in the police office. The nice officers offered us some dried cookies and cold tea. Amazed by their hospitality we were waiting until the people from the renting agency would come and look at what remained of their car.


When we finally got out of there we (translate: mom and dad) decided to hire a taxi and head to Myra. I thought that the accident gave some brain concussions, and argued with my parents about continuing the trip. However, they were deaf to my requests, so half an hour later we were on our way to Myra. On the part of the road where we had an accident we decided to get out of the car and walk instead. The driver thought that we did that because of our passion to the sea views, and then stops in front of every beach on the way. When we finally reached Myra (nothing special), we got a call from the agents from the renting company, who said that everything is arranged and we just have to come and pick our things up. The insurance will pay the repair, and we don’t have to worry about anything. My parents, happy to return back to the hotel, are joyful and order tons of room service. Nothing can cheer me up as the wafers, my great strawberry wafers, can't be found anywhere.

Monday, February 26, 2007

The Car Accident I was in

The incident described in this story happened about six years ago in India. It is the most unforgettable and strange accident that has ever happened to me. We were enjoying the trip from Chittorgarh, a small city, to Sagwara, a town in Rajasthan, to meet my uncle who is a doctor. My father, who drives quite fast on the highways, was driving the car and my mother was sitting right next to him in the front seat. My cousin and I were sitting in the back seat. The roads were pretty good, but there was no divider between the two sides of the road. The view on the roadside was only of marble factories and the smoke coming out from their chimneys. My cousin and I were really excited to meet my other cousins, but bored of sitting in the car and staring at the smoke going up in the air. We started complaining about how much pollution the smoke causes, but soon were tired of doing that as well.

Our destination was thirty minutes ahead of us. The time was passing leisurely, and we were continuously staring out through the front glass. A bullock cart was going on the same side as we were; it was going really slowly. It was truly annoying to watch a bullock cart going like a snail in front of us making the time pass awfully slowly, so my father picked up the speed of the car in order to overtake the cart. Suddenly, we saw a truck coming at a very high speed from the other side of the road, and my father decided to slow down; however, he was going fast, so it was pretty hard to stop the car. The bullock cart was going extremely slowly. When my father pushed the brake really hard, I started to shout because I saw the bullock cart and truck in front of me, and the sound that was made by the friction between the road the tire was making me nervous. He was trying his best to stop the car, but it was too late and our car crashed into the bullock cart. For about 10 seconds, all of us were silent, but also shocked while thinking of what had just happened. I was about 8-9 years old, and I started to cry not only because of the accident, but also because of the injury I had.

All of us went out of the car, and found that the oxen of the cart were lying on two sides of the road, but were alive. Our car’s bonnet was completely destroyed and smoke was coming out from under it. We looked all around, but as I told you before there was nothing except marble factories. The truck driver, who was partially the cause of the accident left as if he didn’t see anything. We were stuck in the middle of the road with that cart driver. We apologized to him, but he was saying the oxen are dead, and we will have to pay him a lot of money. We told him that they are alive, but he started to argue with us saying that he knows about oxen better than any of us do. The argument continued for fairly long time, and we were very tired of listening to his complaints. We knew it was our fault, but the driver was getting on our nerves by pointing at the oxen and talking in his own dialect, which was rather hard for me to understand. I was looking at my father and the driver simultaneously when they were arguing with each other and trying to know what actually was happening, but my cousin was able to understand everything, so I was asking him every minute, “what is he saying?”

We called our relatives, my mother’s brother and his wife, and waited near by our car for about half an hour. No one except for me had any injury. After a long break, the cheerfulness came back to our faces when we saw my uncle and his wife coming towards us in their car. My uncle checked the oxen which were alive, as we already said; the cart driver had a few injures, so he treated him with first aid, and called some people to help him repair his cart. We went to a near by office of a factory and told them what had happened to us and sat there for about an hour.

Our car was insured, so we called the insurance agency, and went to our relative’s house in their car. I was quite scared while thinking about the accident but when we reached there, I forgot about what had happened and started playing with my cousins. Later my father told me that the agents from the insurance agency came and took the car, and they have paid about $2560 for the repairs of the car. The best thing was that nothing happened to anyone and everyone was fine in the end. Actually this car accident turned out to be a benefit in one way because the car was about 2 years old, but after being repaired, the car’s front part looked as if we bought the car a month ago.