Denmark, Socialism and Public Toilets

Dear Readers,

After a long break, I'm back!

Many bad things happened since my last post. We had a global monster called ISIS, for example. How I missed summers when I could write about figs and Ramadan celebrations... Now its suicide bombs, military coups, corruption scandals, and terrible, I mean, terrible air travel...

I believe scholars of International Relations need extra compensation these days. Perks such as spa packages, alcoholic drinks or mini retreats would really help.

Most of us are depressed and borderline suicidal... Just look at any news site or Twitter, and you'd get all your spirits sucked out of you, as if you've encountered a Death Eater from the Harry Potter books...

In case you were wondering, I'm about to get to the topic of my blog entry: public toilets in Denmark!

So your humble author took a short vacation in Europe this summer.

It all started with collecting mountains of paperwork and a personal visit to the German Consulate in Chicago in April, for a tourist visa. The lady at the consulate was not convinced that my tenure-track job & salary in the US were strong enough credentials to visit her beloved Germany. (Hope my bosses read this before our pay raises.) So I had to have other folks in the group to vouch for me:
1 American and 2 Norwegian citizens. Only after receiving copies of their passports and written testimonies that I am who I am, and really, can afford the trip, I got a precious 14 day Schengen visa.

Fast forward, after a visit to the house where Karl Marx was born (in Trier), we moved up to Denmark.

During the 2016 election cycle in the US, Mr. Bernie Sanders had created a real hype about  the place. The way Sander's had described, Denmark was the golden standard of social democracy, wherein all your social needs were met by a generous state, and everyone was enlightened, affluent and above average...

So we drove from Holland to Denmark. Unlike all the other European countries where you just keep driving on the same highway and voila, you're in Belgium, France, or the Netherlands, the road sign says; in Denmark there was police check point on the highway. They look at every car, and waive you in.

In Denmark, we stopped at the first gas station we saw. Danes stick with their Kroner so you better remember your multiplication table really quick. My son had a hamburger. This precious Danish burger at the gas station cost us about $15. And, they charge extra for catchup... about $1. Yes, we learned the hard way.

We moved on, trying to get to the little "summer town" to meet our friends. In this town, we visited two big grocery stores, and neither had a bathroom for customers. Then, we started driving around, thinking that the haven of Mr. Sanders would surely have public bathrooms scattered around this little tourist town.

After quite a bit of driving, we saw ONE sign. Following the sign carefully, we arrived at the site. I jumped out, hoping to find maybe a fancy Toto (some models as much as $10,000), since we're in one of the most affluent nations on earth..

Alas, the bathroom door wouldn't open. But there was a ton of cryptic writing on the door. I tried couple of times, no, the door wouldn't budge.

Finally, I looked at the writing again. Amongst all the Nordic languages, there was a tiny line in English: To use the toilet, send an SMS to xxx123.

You've got to be kidding!!!

So in the social democratic haven, you need to first have a cell phone, and secondly, a plan that works in Denmark, to have access to a public toilet!

What about old people? My mom cannot send SMS messages... What about young kids? Why would everyone has to have a cell phone? What about the mother who's juggling a toddler, a baby and a stroller?

Say anything about the vicious capitalism in America, but at least the public bathrooms are available and accessible to ALL public, regardless of your cell phone coverage!

Back to Denmark:
So I did not want this horrid toilet experience cloud my judgement. But after a week in this "summer town" in Denmark, and a day in Copenhagen, here is my bottom line:

- the whole country is like an empty Ikea store: good, clean design & furnishings, no soul.
- outside Copenhagen, hardly anyone is on the streets or in their yards
- bicycles rule the roads, they're even used as family vehicles
- even in July, it is impossible to swim! way too cold
- most signs are in Danish & other Scandinavian languages
- life is hard for just English speakers
- mobile coverage is needed to use public bathrooms

In short, before you wholeheartedly endorse an ideology, make sure to see one place it is practiced:
Free trade neo-liberals, check out London and it's exorbitant housing market.
Libertarians, see Idaho.
Feel-the-Bernistas, see Denmark :)

May your airport lines be short, and flights uneventful.

Academic Mommy

Summer 2012, Part I

Cayyolu, Ankara, June 2012

Esteemed Readers;

I’ve been quiet lately. My last post was almost 5 months ago. Actually, many things happened since then. But it was the sheer volume and intensity of the stuff that kept me from writing.

So here is a quick summary of this summer:

May:

Went back to Ankara, to my beloved university and students. I LOVE teaching IPE! (international political economy). And the feelings are mutual, I might add. My students seem to enjoy my classes as much as I do, at least according to the student reviews.

This semester we stirred up quite lively discussions in class on auto industry. Does Turkey need its very own auto company? My students made excellent claims on both sides. We also had a few engineers in class, who were very much engaged by the topic. I am very proud of them all.

In the second half of May, my family flew in from the US. My son went to a public school in the neighborhood. To everyone’s surprise, he managed to fit in quite well. No harm done by local bullies, and he actually made some good friends...

June:

Classes and university obligations continued full blast. Upon Mexican Embassy’s request, I organized a panel on G20. Other than the “death by powerpoint” incident by one of the presenters, it went quite well.

We had a big party for my son and his best friend from our apartment. I mean BIG PARTY! 2 huge cakes, clowns, music systems set up in the basketball court. After hearing the music and seeing the clowns and the guy walking on stilts, lots of people from the neighborhood joined. Both the kids and their parents had great time.

When school was over, we registered our son in an all-day sports school, since both my husband and I were working full-time at the university.

First week, he got injured in gymnastics. At the end of the month when he completed the program, they gave him a “gold medal” in gymnastics! I am telling you, this is a spoiled generation we have… They are pampered left and right…

July:

My son went to the summerhouse with my mom, my brother and his Russian girl friend. It seemed like they had great time along the Aegean Sea, while land locked Ankara was baking in the summer heat. 

The snorkel grandma got for him truly enamored my son. He insisted to speak with me over the phone, while wearing it! Needles to say, I didn’t get most of what he was saying but we played along…

In the absence of a young son, my husband and I jumped right into the exciting nightlife of Ankara! This meant attending some uptight parties thrown by various embassies in town.

Probably one of the best was at the Canadian Embassy, jointly organized by their NAFTA partner, the Mexicans! Don’t ask me why they excluded the US. We didn’t want to stir up any controversies, and were just happy to be invited.

At the party, the Embassy staff had a funky payment arrangement: You paid some money, say 20 Liras, and got a card with a bunch of monkeys on. 5 Monkeys would get you a beer, 6 monkeys for margaritas, and 7 monkeys for whisky.

It turns out, my husband had left over monkeys in a card, but from 4-5 years ago! He pulled it out and politely asked the bar tender, if they would honor the monkeys in his old Embassy card.

To our surprise, the bartender did! He said it’s been years since he had seen a card like that, but served the beer anyway… When my husband shared the incident with the Canadian Ambassador, the Ambassador was super proud! He said: “We Canadians honor our contracts!”

Wishing you all fun neighbors like the Mexicans, and virtuous neighbors like the Canadians!

The Diplomat-Friendly Academic Mommy

Disneyland, Family Fun, and the Latest Stage of Advanced Capitalism

During the Spring Break, we took our son to Disneyland in California. It was my first visit, as well as his. We were equally thrilled by the experience.

I am not a huge fan of artificial environments created for mass entertainment. Years ago when I first visited Las Vegas, the place utterly depressed me.

Maybe all the training towards a PhD makes us academics ill-disposed to the idea of popular entertainment. It’s as if the PhD diploma condemns us to watching boring artsy movies and pretending to get the deep dark meaning behind the strawberry scene… anyways, this entry is not about anti-intellectualism…

When in Vegas, I remember finding the place extremely tacky and fake. The air of over-the-top commodification bothered me so much!... It seemed like anything and everything was for sale. Especially the human beings! The amount of in-you-face human flesh became so unbearable for me that in order to tolerate those few days in Vegas, I decide to have a split personality disorder. Here is how it worked:

I imagined myself as an anthropologist doing fieldwork amongst this “weird” clan that was discovered in the deep Nevada desert. They slept during the day, stayed up all night. They lured and tricked the weaker members of their community into loosing their assets in labyrinths called the “casinos”. They liked to display bodies of the good-looking members of their clan in shows called “Crazy Horse”. They also liked to make pathetic models of the objects they liked from the civilized world, like the Eiffel Tower, Venice canals and the pyramids of Egypt. It felt like an extended nightmare with lots of glittery lights, dancing fountains and bouncing boobies…

Because of the rather bad taste on my palate from the Vegas trip, I was hesitant to go to the Disneyland, a.k.a “the happiest place on earth!” However, as guilty liberal parents, we didn’t want to deprive our only son of this experience, because of our moral and intellectual reservations. So, we went. And I’m glad we did!

Aside from spending some wonderful 10 hours, this visit churned the little political economist in me!

The moment we approached the parking lot, we were shepherded by a small army of “crew members”. These employees were all dressed up in the cutest uniforms. They would handle the crowds in the most efficient way, without making them feel rushed at all.

I swear thousands would pass through the main gates at every few minutes, yet the park displayed no signs of overcrowding, chaos or disrepair. Everything looked in great shape, despite the fact that the park was opened in 1955! The conditions and safety measures all around seemed impeccable!

I remember in Ankara, we took our son to a public recreational area in Golbasi once.  He still has a scar on his forehead from the playground there.

I imagine any place in the world with this many children and their overbearing parents would easily turn into a “Lord of the Flies” scene. But not in Disneyland!

The pricey ticket gives you access to all the rides, but the lines are long. People do wait their turns in a patient and orderly manner. Again, the “crew” works magic when it comes to shepherding the crowds in and out of the rides.

And the rides: They are amazing! The first one we went was “It’s a Small World” in the Mickey’s Toontown. It had little dolls from all around the world dressed in the most stereotypical fashion (i.e. geishas from Japan, belly dancers from some magic Arab lands, tulip holding, clog wearing dolls from Holland, etc…). Not much creativity, one might say. But, as we were gliding on a small sandal from one scene to the next, these dancing little dolls just mesmerized us.

I was amazed by the amount of craftsmanship needed to built and program these little dolls to dance and sing in such harmony. Contrary to Vegas, this constructed space of entertainment felt so real! And this sense of a “magic reality” followed us everywhere. It felt as if we were inside a three dimensional cartoon!

So, where is political economy in this?

If you’ve read thus far, bear with me a bit more. Here it comes:

When Disneyland opened in 1955, it had about 1 million visitors. Last year, it had almost 16 million! Tickets are around $80 a piece.  That makes $1.28 billion in revenues just from the entrance fees! Aside from that, you spend quite a bit of money inside on food, drinks, silly hats and other memorabilia.  We spent about $150.

I could not find the numbers but it must take armies of carpenters, puppet makers, gardeners, genitors, mechanics, engineers and maintenance people to keep that place up and running. From 8 am till midnight!

Seeing Disneyland consolidated my opinions about the dominance of the US in service sector. Essentially, Disneyland is all about selling a fictitious reality, a dream. And 16 million visitors each year are willing to pay for it!

California itself is the capital of this huge service sector. It is also the heart of the global entertainment sector. The studios –big and small- the artists –big and small- are the bastions of this empire. Tourism is completely catering towards the entertainment industry, feeding into the magical image of California and the America it creates.

After seeing Disneyland and California, I thought the US need not worry about the demise of its manufacturing sector. Let the Mexicans build the cars and the refrigerators. The Americans would do just fine, by creating magical realities and marketing it across the world.

Unfortunately, all this glitter of the service sector hides a rather dark side. For every actor or producer that makes millions and lives in giant mansions, there are tens of thousands of low-wage stagehands, stunts, waitresses and cleaners that earn pitiful wages with little or no benefits.

Lucky me, I just came across some data that back up my observations. According to OECD statistics, the US had the highest share of low-wage jobs among advanced economies.

This is not surprising, given the increasing predominance of the service sector in the US and its extremely inequitable wage structure. There is an astronomically wide gap between the leading artists and the stagehands. Similarly in banking, finance and insurance sectors, the wage gaps between the top and bottom are outrageous. Whereas in the manufacturing sector, the gap between engineers or administrators and the shop-floor workers had never been that wide.

Moral of this story: Take you kid to Disneyland, if you have the chance. It is a worthy experience, and the happiness and gratitude in your child’s eyes is priceless.

However, keep an eye on the grinding wheels of the service sector as well. Your happiness comes at the expense armies of low-wage workers.

Hopefully, we will be lucky enough to see another Great Transformation and labor mobilization in our lifetimes, like the early decades of Industrial Revolution. Similar to the 8-hour workdays and the child labor bans of the olden times, we need a new set of labor laws. These should provide a fair distribution of wealth that is generated by this new, post-modern economic sector.

The service sector might be the new locomotive of national economies, but it should take care of its constitutive components in a just, fair and equitable manner.

Wishing you all fun and pleasant lives as in Disney cartoons,

The California-enamored Academic Mommy

The Meaning of Summer

When I was a little kid, summer meant three things: The Sun, Sea, and Sand Castles!

This year, an unexpected vacation brought back the joys of those carefree days of my youth. Accompanied by two good old friends, my son and I had a great time along the Aegean coast.

My civil engineer friend, an avid Fenerbahce fan, got a swimming vest (see picture) for my son, and took him on a sailboat trip for his birthday. My Operations Manager friend organized couple of side trips to the Greek ruins nearby, and to Bozcaada, which is one of the only two islands Turkey has along the Aegean.

Unfortunately, the three of us -the Engineer, the Manager, and the Doctor mommy- were unable to built sand castles at the island. It seemed impossible to get the optimum ratio of sand and water mix!

I put the blame on the engineer, who has supposedly built multiple airports and shopping malls around the world. The two of them ganged up on me and questioned the credibility of my

PhD, in light of my obvious incompetence at sand castle projects...

In the end, we all blamed the sticky sand of the island. We lamented that even the sand is no longer like the sand of our childhood times, and moved on to drinking ice cold beers against the sea breeze...

Not all summer went by idling along the beach. We had some sophisticated activities as well, including several visits to the museums in Istanbul.

The Fernando Botero exhibit at Pera Museum was particularly entertaining for my son. He seemed to have enjoyed Botero's chubby figures and circus scenes...:)

By far, his favorite museum was the Rahmi Koc Museum of Transportation and Industry. The place had an amazing collection of anything that moved: from antique bikes and baby strollers to Model T, steam engines, tractors, trains, planes, boats and a submarine!

It was comforting to see that finally the bourgeoisie in Turkey had achieved some level of sophistication as well.

The Museum was an impressive undertaking, displaying an excellent collection in terms of both scale and scope. The Koc Family, who regularly makes it to the Forbes 500 list, have managed to come up with a world class project that contributes to the public good.

Hope your summer was fun and educational as well. Enjoy the last weeks of sunny skies,

The gift-shop lover Academic Mommy

Rahmi Koc Museum: www.rmk-museum.org.tr

Pera Museum: www.peramuzesi.org.tr

Below: The Fowler Steam Roller @ Rahmi Koc Museum