The Invisible Race – The Rohingyas, Part II, Why Are They Hated?

Maungdaw fire

[Please Read Part I...}

Buddhists have a reputation for being gentle. I conjure up an image of a meditating monk being harrassed by a fly. It lands on his nose but he maintains his peaceful composure. That's how we think of Buddhists.

They wouldn't swat a fly. I've been looking at videos of the massacre. Houses are burning and people are running about trying to get away. There are photos of bodies lying on a beach and horrible living conditions for the homeless Muslim Rohingyas. This isn't how I think of Buddhists. What's wrong? Why do these Buddhists hate these Muslims? Why do the Rakhines hate the Rohingyas? There must be a good reason. What is behind it?

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An Invisible Race – The Rohingyas, Part I

I lived in Myanmar, formerly Burma, from 1969 to 1972 and I follow what is happening there. An article in the Irrawaddy Newspaper caught my eye and I've been following the resulting horror ever since, trying to understand. On May 28, 2012 a young ethnic Rakhine Buddhist woman was raped and murdered by four Rohingya Muslim men. This is the age of cell phones and if it hadn't have been for photos taken at the scene, the resulting massacre of Muslims may not have occurred. But it did. The photos went viral on the internet and for those without access, pamplets detailing the rape were passed around. Hla Oo, who blogs on all things Burmese, reported that the crime was far more horrible than described in the media. He wrote:

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Girls, Jokes, and Hanging Offenses

It was bad timing. I know I should be a good sport. That's what my Dad always said when he made fun of me, that he was just funning. And it was all in fun or I think it was. I mean it was a good joke. Everybody laughed and I laughed too before it hit me that it was a rape joke. On the other hand, it was just a teeny, weeny rape joke. Not bad really. Not insulting or anything. It even took me a minute to realize what was happening but then with this guy — he's a really nice guy by the way. He tells jokes all the time and most of them are funny. Anyway with this guy I often get a funny feeling, a feeling that he's besting me somehow in some strange competition and I don't know the rules. I only learn the rules after I've been bested, after he's won. Won what? I never know. That's why it's so weird. I can't put my finger on it. [Read More...]


Gods and Goddesses

I'm afraid to talk about the Goddess. God, the big patriarchal male God will strike me down. This depiction of God the Father is from the Sistine Chapel.


Rikki, Tikki, Tavi, Part 2

Rikki's alive. He must be. The morning after I gave up and took down the signs, Petwatch, the microchip company, called to say he had been turned in to the Buncombe County Humane Society.


I'm excited. Brad Pitt, who was such a cutie when he exploded onto the screen in Thelma & Louise in 1991 has become a hero and not only a hero but a White Knight.

Rikki, Tikki, Tavi, Part One

There's a crunching sound in the kitchen and that means Rikki is eating his breakfast. I'm delighted. My entire being has been willing that little guy to eat. He's weighing in at around five pounds again and that's the weight he came in at six months ago when I got him.


From the previews, the movie Gloria looked like a Chilean chick flick for older women. What I thought would be the story line - attractive older woman in her fifties meets soul mate late in life, marries and at her wedding dances to Umberto Tozzi's "Gloria" - wasn't what happened.