Ted Meinhover Tedericco

Tick, tick…

I just now had a sudden inside-burst of excitement for what is speeding toward me down life's path. Jamaica has been a joy, for sure. But the prospect of a year in Washington doing nothing but studying language and seeing old friends makes me smile... And then, the move to china is so absolutely unknowable and full of opportunity - I can't help but just smile with anticipation.

Word of the Day

Redact
(from Dictionary.com) 1. to put into suitable literary form; revise; edit.
2. to draw up or frame (a statement, proclamation, etc.).

Self, Diplomat, Risk Tolerance

Change is not easy. Especially when it involves the fundamentals. The process of reevaluating my concept of personal security, in the context of a career representing the government with every move I make, has been a painful one. Taking on personal responsibility goes without saying - I've done enough living and traveling to have a concept of where lines are drawn. Accepting that I am not the only one affected by my actions has been harder, however. Indeed, my very career depends on how successfully I embody the "mission" I am trying to achieve, that is maintaining and improving relations between my country and others.

Wandering through an inner city, gang controlled neighborhood as a student is one thing. In the capacity of a diplomat... now there are others responsible for my safety.

Admittedly it takes some of the fun out of being in another country. But it also emphasizes the meaningfulness of why I am here.

Remembering December 26, 2004

I was in Johor Baru, the capital city of the southern most province of peninsular Malaysia, for a friend's wedding, when the tsunami slammed into coastlines on all sides of the Indian Ocean. Today, people in many towns and cities, not the least of them Banda Aceh, which lost about 190,000 people to the wave, are remembering the tragedy.

I was safe, with the giant island of Sumatra blocking the wave, and was far away from the west coast anyway, but the earthquake and tsunami still affected my life, changing the course of the rest of that year in Malaysia and beyond. But the effect on me was minute compared to the families, entire communities, that bore the physical and lasting pains of death and devastation.

Happy Holidays!!

Take a look at my family's annual Xmas card, here.

Lost Boys, Heroes, DIY’ers, Entitled

The attempt to define my own generation, as we get ready to enter our third decade, is an ongoing one. Perhaps, in the end, fruitless, in a world that exists between the niche market and mass market, individualism and mass movements, entitled Liberal Arts graduates and long term underemployed youth, but useful to ponder nonetheless.

Lately, my thoughts have revolved around the thousands and thousands of my brothers and sisters, kids I grew up with and probably lost touch with, or the many who are invisible, whose lives were largely put on hold and whose souls have been battered by years of military service. The focus on the recent pull out of the last American troops from Iraq really drives this thought home as images and articles in the media portray the decorated and the devastated.

True, some of my more successful friends are vets who have come home and used their skills and connections toxins their place. But when I look at the state of veterans of war from generations before my own, and I hear stories of all those people who I don't see or know, whose lives have been ripped apart, I admit a degree of fear for what could happen to this new generation of my peers, in the US and in every country whose people have faced the violence of the past decade.

Best guitar solo ever

I shall now transcribe, in mouth/air guitar, the guitar solo from the Black Crows' Hard To Handle.

Ahem.

Bwahh, Bwahh, beedadoobee doobee doobee deedlebow dooblebah doo.doodahh, duhdoobledop doodiedaw diplebop dooh.doohdah, duhdoobaleedop doodiedaw diplebop doooh.
Bdweee diiii, diibahbah bdwee! Duhduh bdweedada deedee doo bleee! Bleee, bloohdee bloohdeedee bloohdee, bloodeedeedoobeedoodaaaawwwww!!

Thank you.

A Prime Minister Falls. A Prime Minister Ascends.

I was at the press conference this week as the party currently in power in Jamaica, the Jamaica Labor Party, announced the man they plan to put forward as new leader and therefore new PM at its November national convention. The party's 5,000 some rank and file delegates voting AGAINST the chosen one of the party leadership is highly unlikely, of course, but would provide the kind of political theater that makes for long days, and nights, for diplomats reporting on political developments. Come to think of it, it's already been a couple weeks of quite long days...

And in Tripoli…

It is difficult to appreciate, or perhaps even comprehend, the importance and meaning of the "Arab Spring" that seems to be rocking a huge chunk of the earth but remains a string of images, audio clips of explosions and chanting crowds, and dramatic articles for most of us here on the other side of the Atlantic.
Still, as Tripoli is pressured from both the inside and the outside by those looking for a new government, a new country, it is undeniable that things are changing. Questions abound, however, as do hopes that this "change" does not result in more of the same.
First in my mind, who exactly are these people marching on tripoli, and what kind of country do they want to create, or are they capable of creating?
Another unknown, what will the relationship between the "TNC" in Libya and the US and NATO emerge as, after what has been a rather strange military alliance against Ghadafi and his regime?

“Rich man in his castle, poor man at his gate”

Sitting at the bar in Usain Bolt's slick new sports bar, watching four sporting events at the same time and reading the news of the world, the luxury of remaining unaware of the oppressive heat of the island afternoon is not unappreciated. Switching to the local news, however, an article I read earlier highlighting the "Rich man in his castle, poor man at his gate" nature of this island gains clarity.
This country has one of the more segregated - along economic lines - societies I have ever been a part of. One hears of the growing economic divide in the united states, but it is hardly as out in the open and dramatic as it is here. Jamaica's coasts are dotted with opulent, all inclusive resorts, where tourists are entertained with water sports, alcohol, and a manufactured but convincing exotic world.
Outside the resorts and walled communities, however, along the crumbling roads crossing the country, most jamaicans seem to live in converted shipping containers or multi-family homes.
The roots of and possible solutions to the situation are much more than I will venture in this Sunday afternoon thought, but they are things that must be understood if so many are to have a shot at realizing the potential that is so obviously there.