<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421</id><updated>2012-02-16T14:44:18.854+01:00</updated><category term='Why?'/><category term='History'/><category term='Travelling'/><category term='Literature'/><category term='Africa'/><category term='Film'/><category term='Fun'/><category term='Who am I?'/><category term='Language'/><category term='League of Nations'/><category term='Politics'/><title type='text'>martique</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-154758950670424843</id><published>2008-02-18T00:16:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T00:18:41.817+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Film'/><title type='text'>Christy-Azuma-Naam</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2w4n4_christyazumanaam_creation"&gt;http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x2w4n4_christyazumanaam_creation&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sound track from the film BAMAKO.&lt;br /&gt;I love it&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-154758950670424843?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/154758950670424843/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=154758950670424843' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/154758950670424843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/154758950670424843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2008/02/christy-azuma-naam.html' title='Christy-Azuma-Naam'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-8079801553097024047</id><published>2007-10-28T00:31:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-28T00:33:26.898+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Ishmael Beah</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5K4yhPSQEzo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5K4yhPSQEzo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-8079801553097024047?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/8079801553097024047/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=8079801553097024047' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/8079801553097024047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/8079801553097024047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/10/ishmael-beah.html' title='Ishmael Beah'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-7218552012974503624</id><published>2007-10-24T17:29:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T17:36:43.365+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literature'/><title type='text'>a long way gone</title><content type='html'>Moving...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I will write more on this book when I finish reading. It has just arrived by mail and I cannot take myself from it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rx9k-PWuEAI/AAAAAAAAAJs/7bCActMJbpc/s1600-h/lwg_book_ltbkgrd.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124925921407406082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rx9k-PWuEAI/AAAAAAAAAJs/7bCActMJbpc/s400/lwg_book_ltbkgrd.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the meantime you can visit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.alongwaygone.com/"&gt;http://www.alongwaygone.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-7218552012974503624?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/7218552012974503624/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=7218552012974503624' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7218552012974503624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7218552012974503624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/10/long-way-gone.html' title='a long way gone'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rx9k-PWuEAI/AAAAAAAAAJs/7bCActMJbpc/s72-c/lwg_book_ltbkgrd.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5326539088771066238</id><published>2007-09-25T21:14:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T21:16:46.421+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Politics'/><title type='text'>Er demokrati i Polen i fare?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(Norwegian version, this time on politics)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. oktober i år er det valg i Polen. Organisasjonen for sikkerhet og samarbeid i Europa har kommet med et forslag om å sende sine observatører til valgene. Likevel, kunngjorde Det polske utenriksdepartementet i en offisiell uttalelse siste lørdag at de ikke ønsket utenlandske observatører fra organisasjonen ved valgene i oktober. Den polske regjerings ”nei” har vekket misnøye og mange kritiske røster i landet. Enkelte representanter fra det sterkeste opposisjonspartiet Borgerplattformen, mente at regjeringen den gangen har gått over Lukaszenkos autoritære metoder, fordi til og med i Hviterussland ble utenlandske observatører fra OSSE tillat. Men regjeringen forsvarer sin linje ved å påstå at det ikke er noe behov for observatører fordi Polens demokrati ikke er i fare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Det er to år siden siste parlamentariske valg i Polen. Året 2005 viste seg å bringe seier til et høyreparti Lov og Rettferdighet og en alvorlig tilbakegang for Venstrealliansen. Den siste kom først og fremst som et resultat av en rekke oppdaget affærer som diskrediterte venstreregjeringen og satte spørsmålstegn ved forbindelser mellom politiske eliter og businessmiljøet. Lov og Rettferdighets seier skulle bringe transparente metoder og endelig gi polakker stolthet av sitt land. Etter to år av Den fjerde republikken Polens intense sanering står vi overfor en krise uten presedens i den polske historie etter 1989.          &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hvordan er den nye situasjonen forskjellig fra 90-tallet med skiftende og svake regjeringer samt korrupsjon, og senere en høy arbeidsledighet som resulterte i en arbeidsutvandring telt i millioner? Det finnes minst tre negative tendenser som gjør seg spesielt gjeldende i nåtidens Polen og som truer å ødelegge de tidligere suksesser av vår unge demokrati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Først og fremst vitner vi en betydelig nedgang ved dagens politiske kultur i Polen. Daglig får man vite nå om politiske provokasjoner, påstått avlytting av politikere og journalister, samt ukompetente aksjoner mot mistenkte personer, som ikke sjelden blir erklært skyldig av jussministeren Zbigniew Ziobro, før den riktige rettsprosessen starter. Mislykket arrestasjonsforsøk av tidligere statsråd Barbara Blida tidligere i år, som endte med hennes selvmord, er det mest tragiske eksemplet. Regjeringspartiets selvpersepsjon av de eneste rettferdige i politikken virker utfordrende, hvis ikke ødeleggende, for demokratiske prinsipper om mangfoldighet og behov for uavhengige organer som kan kontrollere makthavende. Normen «hensikten helliger midlet» virker som et øyebind for regjeringen som i sin misjonsruss glemmer, eller vil ikke huske, om den grunnleggende betydningen av demokratiske prosedyrer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Den andre negative tendensen gjelder utviklingen som følger regjeringens kamp mot ”overenskomsten”, både den reelle og den påståtte. Ordet ”overenskomsten” betegner her alle angivelige korrumperende og mørke forbindelser mellom politikken og businessen, også den ulovlige. Statsminister Jarosław Kaczyńskis parti ønsker å opptre som det eneste miljøet som ikke bare samler folk med hovedsakelig har Solidarność-bakgrunn fra 80-tallet, men også dem som greide å unngå noen innblanding i politiske svindler og korrupsjonsaffærer etter 1989. Den feilslåtte ”Loven om rensing”, som skulle granske ca. 700 000 polakkers politiske rulleblad, greide bare å vise at regjeringen ikke respekterer til og med slike Solidarność-ikoner som Tadeusz Mazowiecki og Bronisław Geremek. Så lenge lyktes regjeringen tilsynelatende å avdekke en ”overenskomst” blant sine egne rekker. To statsråd fra populistiske koalisjonspartier Selvforsvaret og Liga for Polske Familier mistet stillinger etter en høyprofilerte aksjon i august i år, noe som ble en direkte årsak til tidligere valg. Men istedenfor å innse sin feil ved å ha inngått en koalisjon med to meget kontroversielle partier som før pleide å befinne seg på den politiske marginen, fremstilte Lov og Rettferdighet dette som sin suksess i kampen mot ”overenskomsten”. Problemet er at slike heksejakter etter stadige nye fiender tar bort oppmerksomhet fra reelle utfordringer som det polske samfunnet må takle: helsevesenet, utdanningssystemet eller fremdeles tosifre arbeidsledighet, bare for å nevne de noen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Til sjuende og sist er det nødvendig å påpeke Polens internasjonale stilling som kanskje i dag er den mest bisarre siden 1989. Det er egentlig et paradoks, fordi i 2007 er vi både medlem av NATO og EU, og man kunne forvente at vår posisjon skal være stabil som aldri før. De siste årene har vist likevel at istedenfor å satse på gode relasjoner med sine naboer, samt andre land i EU, valgte Polen en konfrontasjonsvei. Uten å hevde at skylden bare ligger på polsk side, må man konstatere at forholdene med Russland er muligens de verste siden Sovjet Unions oppløsning. Tysklands Angela Merkel viste ikke en gang en usedvanlig tålmodighet og samarbeidsvilje mot Polen, mens Polens offisielle argumentasjon henviste til tap under Andre Verdenskrig, samt behov for Tysklands særbehandling av sin mindre nabo i øst. I Brussel har Polen også dårlig rykte, og EU er nødt til å svelge Polens veto til og med i slike forslag som etablering av den Europeiske dagen mot dødsstraff. Ønsket om å opptre som en sterk stat bygger på en overbevisning om at konfrontasjoner, og ikke kompromiss er nøkkelen til suksessen. Og selv om denne polske selvpersepsjonen av å være ”stormakt” er ikke noe nytt fenomen i polsk historie, viser den seg igjen til å dominere vår nåværende utenrikspolitikk.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De siste målingsundersøkelser viser at regjeringspartiet står fremdeles veldig strekt i rankingen, og det er store sjanser at valgresultater i oktober skal bekrefte Jus og Rettferdighets dominerende posisjon. De opposisjonelle partiene synes forholdsvis svake og deres hovedargumenter svever altfor mye rundt konfrontasjoner med regjeringspartiet. De mangler et klart og positivt program som kunne sette Polens skjebne på riktige spor. Etter to år ved makten lykkes regjeringspartiet også med å spille samtidig to, tilsynelatende motsatte, roller: makthavende og opposisjonelle. På en side er de regjeringspartiet, på den andre side kjemper de likevel hele tida mot ”overenskomsten” som bærer ansvar for alt det gale som skjer i Polen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeg mener ikke at Polens ”nei” til å ta imot observatører fra OSSE er noe bevis på polsk demokrati i fare. Uansett er det et urovekkende tegn, som viser en altfor sterk tendens til å innbille seg at man ikke behøver noen ekstern kontroll. Den samme dagen som i Polen skal det holdes valg i Sveits som, i motsetning til Polen, har akseptert observatører fra OSSE. Polens avslag kan også ha andre uønsket konsekvenser. Noen frykter at Russland kan bruke den polske presedensen til å nekte utenlandske observatører ved sine valg. Er det ikke nok til å innse at til og med hvis det ikke direkte berører Polens ”etablerte” demokrati, så kan den type politikk bringe andre negative virkninger?    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5326539088771066238?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5326539088771066238/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5326539088771066238' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5326539088771066238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5326539088771066238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/09/er-demokrati-i-polen-i-fare.html' title='Er demokrati i Polen i fare?'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-2933963754763929962</id><published>2007-08-30T13:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T13:55:22.717+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><title type='text'>Dreaming of Africa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RtavQQTFOjI/AAAAAAAAAJU/02Blc2HoH1o/s1600-h/IMG_2309%5B1%5D.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104459921458805298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RtavQQTFOjI/AAAAAAAAAJU/02Blc2HoH1o/s400/IMG_2309%5B1%5D.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; A photo from my friend Ibou from Senegal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-2933963754763929962?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/2933963754763929962/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=2933963754763929962' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2933963754763929962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2933963754763929962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/08/dreaming-of-africa.html' title='Dreaming of Africa'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RtavQQTFOjI/AAAAAAAAAJU/02Blc2HoH1o/s72-c/IMG_2309%5B1%5D.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-2668610149163958408</id><published>2007-08-18T16:36:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T16:45:58.042+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>A creative approach to "strictly forbidden"</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEiATFOcI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Qz8ailYbqyk/s1600-h/S5002235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100050085262473666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="251" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEiATFOcI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Qz8ailYbqyk/s320/S5002235.JPG" width="320" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEdATFObI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/VkwwKiKQe8Y/s1600-h/S5002240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100049999363127730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEdATFObI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/VkwwKiKQe8Y/s320/S5002240.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscERATFOaI/AAAAAAAAAII/tn-ejTlqNOY/s1600-h/S5002236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100049793204697506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscERATFOaI/AAAAAAAAAII/tn-ejTlqNOY/s320/S5002236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEMATFOZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bU7gl4F6S9U/s1600-h/S5002237.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100049707305351570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEMATFOZI/AAAAAAAAAIA/bU7gl4F6S9U/s320/S5002237.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEGwTFOYI/AAAAAAAAAH4/wc2Zcu2H0TY/s1600-h/S5002241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100049617111038338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEGwTFOYI/AAAAAAAAAH4/wc2Zcu2H0TY/s320/S5002241.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEBATFOXI/AAAAAAAAAHw/5GJN-GN3CvY/s1600-h/S5002238.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100049518326790514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEBATFOXI/AAAAAAAAAHw/5GJN-GN3CvY/s320/S5002238.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-2668610149163958408?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/2668610149163958408/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=2668610149163958408' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2668610149163958408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2668610149163958408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/08/creative-approach-to-strictly-forbidden.html' title='A creative approach to &quot;strictly forbidden&quot;'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RscEiATFOcI/AAAAAAAAAIY/Qz8ailYbqyk/s72-c/S5002235.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-6414000119227283978</id><published>2007-07-31T18:17:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2007-08-19T09:41:14.887+02:00</updated><title type='text'>tous différents tous égaux</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rsfz7QTFOdI/AAAAAAAAAIk/5sKTxTZFZPE/s1600-h/S5002111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100313302333209042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rsfz7QTFOdI/AAAAAAAAAIk/5sKTxTZFZPE/s400/S5002111.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-6414000119227283978?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/6414000119227283978/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=6414000119227283978' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/6414000119227283978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/6414000119227283978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/07/tous-diffrents-tous-gaux.html' title='tous différents tous égaux'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rsfz7QTFOdI/AAAAAAAAAIk/5sKTxTZFZPE/s72-c/S5002111.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-7869843227842172739</id><published>2007-06-20T13:54:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T14:06:17.447+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Map freak?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When my mind takes a break from transforming my deep thoughts into readable sentences it is a sign that I really need a break. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;However, when the break is not supposed to last too long, I usually choose to stay in front of the screen. Recently, I have found a funny way to take myself away from the work - &lt;a href="http://www.xtec.net/~ealonso/flash/cartflash.htm"&gt;MAPS&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It is good for a short break. And you don't feel so guilty, because you have an impression that you still learn something :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.xtec.net/~ealonso/flash/cartflash.htm"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-7869843227842172739?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/7869843227842172739/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=7869843227842172739' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7869843227842172739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7869843227842172739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/06/map-freak.html' title='Map freak?'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-2046722149701627552</id><published>2007-06-19T18:12:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T18:42:35.478+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Why?'/><title type='text'>Noble manners</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Working and reading in quite a noble institute I cannot help thinking of a certain gap between ideals and reality. In regards to human relations. Even (or especially) in this noble institute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As many other places there is lunch there as well. All the staff and guests are welcomed to have their lunch in a sitting-room. All but one person. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;He is a cleaning assistent and comes from abroad. Very nice fellow, indeed. Always with a smile on his face and a good word to cheer up. He has got his lunch as well. Not that he hasn't. But not in the sitting-room. Some floors below, in the cellar beside a room for keeping the cleaning equipmnet. Alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Let me put it this way: I feel quite uncomfortable about it and my equality instict tolds me that something is wrong. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Why and what is wrong?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-2046722149701627552?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/2046722149701627552/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=2046722149701627552' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2046722149701627552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2046722149701627552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/06/noble-manners.html' title='Noble manners'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5022606479320284029</id><published>2007-05-20T12:18:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-20T12:22:34.798+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The walk to paradise garden</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RlAgsuwcYnI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eX6qiCU0TG0/s1600-h/barn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066585533629358706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RlAgsuwcYnI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eX6qiCU0TG0/s400/barn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Photographer: Eugene W. Smith (1918-1978). The photo "The walk to paradise garden" is from 1946.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5022606479320284029?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5022606479320284029/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5022606479320284029' title='4 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5022606479320284029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5022606479320284029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/05/walk-to-paradise-garden.html' title='The walk to paradise garden'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RlAgsuwcYnI/AAAAAAAAAHU/eX6qiCU0TG0/s72-c/barn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-7346268861480874490</id><published>2007-05-07T19:09:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-05-08T11:51:22.179+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Who am I?'/><title type='text'>Footsteps in the sand</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061868258423438178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rj9eXLMne2I/AAAAAAAAAHE/EcxOHZdtEaQ/s400/S5001763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&gt;&gt; One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord.&lt;br /&gt;Across the dark sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand, one beloning to him and the other to the Lord. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lord, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;The Lord replied "My precious, precious child, I love you and would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffereing, when you see only one set of footprints in the sand, it was then that I carried you." &lt;&lt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061868687920167794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rj9ewLMne3I/AAAAAAAAAHM/bTPqBsJzDHk/s400/S5001742.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-7346268861480874490?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/7346268861480874490/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=7346268861480874490' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7346268861480874490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7346268861480874490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/05/footsteps-in-sand.html' title='Footsteps in the sand'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rj9eXLMne2I/AAAAAAAAAHE/EcxOHZdtEaQ/s72-c/S5001763.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5395117283282825196</id><published>2007-04-26T17:52:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T10:17:09.542+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='League of Nations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Rewriting the history of Lithuania...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I feel really puzzled, since I cannot believe that somebody from the Indiana University could have done such a &lt;a href="http://www.indiana.edu/~league/ministerlithuania.htm"&gt;mistake&lt;/a&gt; (the context is the membership in the League of Nations - see &lt;a href="http://www.indiana.edu/~league/tcministers.htm"&gt;the whole table&lt;/a&gt;). Although I looked up the Lithuanian timetable in the interwar period in several articles I had to pinch myself to make sure it was not me who messed something. But it seems that I am right. Lithuania, as well as Latvia and Estonia, were independent states between the First and the Second World War. And similarily to Latvia and Estonia, Lithuania did enter the League of Nations in September 1921.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Even in regard to the date given on the web site I am a little suspicious. Lithuania declered independence 11th March 1990, in 1991 the country entered the United Nations. And it is the day of 11th March which is celebrated in Lihuania every year as the independence day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Is there anything I don't know??? If there is, I made a fool of myself, because I sent an e-mail to the archive asking them to correct the mistake...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5395117283282825196?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5395117283282825196/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5395117283282825196' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5395117283282825196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5395117283282825196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/04/rewriting-history-of-lithuania.html' title='Rewriting the history of Lithuania...'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-7590424501832372711</id><published>2007-04-19T13:50:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-19T13:52:52.492+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Welcome to Nicaragua</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RidXmXbZXYI/AAAAAAAAAGs/yG4UgnwOoDo/s1600-h/Nicaragua.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055105423382240642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RidXmXbZXYI/AAAAAAAAAGs/yG4UgnwOoDo/s400/Nicaragua.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S. No, I am not in Nicaragua at the moment. I've just received this nice postcard ;) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-7590424501832372711?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/7590424501832372711/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=7590424501832372711' title='2 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7590424501832372711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/7590424501832372711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/04/welcome-to-nicaragua.html' title='Welcome to Nicaragua'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RidXmXbZXYI/AAAAAAAAAGs/yG4UgnwOoDo/s72-c/Nicaragua.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-6389877641565336823</id><published>2007-04-14T12:33:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T14:09:45.928+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Film'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literature'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Anthills of the Savannah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Since nobody recommended me any readings by African authors I found one on my own. And &lt;em&gt;Anthills of the Savannah&lt;/em&gt; by Nigerian &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinua_Achebe"&gt;Chinua Achebe&lt;/a&gt; appeared to be one of these books I couldn’t tear myself away from reading until the small hours. The story covers the events which took place in the West African state of Kangan and seems to be a parable on the development in other dictator ruled African states. The novel is “full of a savage irony, set in a country where power has corrupted ideals, terror has silenced all but the bravest, and only fools and flatterers survive” – as it is written on the cover. I couldn’t refrain myself from comparing the plot and the perspective of “Anthills of the Savannah” with a film about Ugandan dictator Idi Amin &lt;em&gt;&lt;a href="http://movies.virginmedia.com/player/default.asp?url=/film/fid6009/trailers/trid2617/wm/bb.asx&amp;amp;filmid=6009"&gt;The last King of Scotland&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/em&gt;. And I have to say that I liked book much better. One striking contrast between them (and as far I see this distinction is quite relevant in many other cases as well) is a chosen perspective. While in &lt;em&gt;The last King of Scotland&lt;/em&gt; the story is mostly seen through the eyes of the European(s), even though the actual main character is Idi Amin, the characters of &lt;em&gt;Anthills of the Savannah&lt;/em&gt; are almost without exception African. The perspective affects both interpersonal relations between the characters and their attitudes towards love, death, and not least the country. As things go worse and worse for the characters of the book Kangan still remains their country, not only a place they happen to be for a certain period of time and which in case of danger can be evacuated.&lt;br /&gt;The question of multiple perspectives of the narrative structure is also relevant in the historical research. It has to do with the way in which a particular theme is put into focus, and the kinds of questions which are investigated. So not surprisingly “[t]his has been argued for approaches to African history by Adu Boahen, who proposes that historians should be ‘asking questions and exploring themes of relevance to the African and not the European’…”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-6389877641565336823?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/6389877641565336823/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=6389877641565336823' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/6389877641565336823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/6389877641565336823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/04/anthills-of-savannah.html' title='Anthills of the Savannah'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-1165314854292886821</id><published>2007-04-12T23:01:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-14T09:56:58.318+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='League of Nations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Father of the term genocide</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6jPsMt_kI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Zua26sMEuQE/s1600-h/RLemkin1951-140.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052655321914146370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6jPsMt_kI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Zua26sMEuQE/s320/RLemkin1951-140.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; His name was &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raphael_Lemkin"&gt;Rafał Lemkin &lt;/a&gt;and he was Polish. What especially cought my attention is that in 1933 he made a presentation to the Legal Council of the League of Nations conference on international criminal law in Madrid, for which he prepared an essay on the Crime of Barbarity as a crime against international law. The concept of the crime, was based mostly on the experience of Assyrians massacred in Iraq during the 1933 Simele massacre and the Armenian Genocide during World War I. Later the concept of crime of barbarity evolved in his writings into the idea of genocide. The definition of the term genocide was presented in his main work &lt;em&gt;Axis Rule in Occupied Europe &lt;/em&gt;published in 1944 by the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Quite interesting, and I will keep it in my mind. For the time being I learn to know so many names of Norwegian and Scandinavian peace activists from the League of Nations that it is good to hear about one Polish. And shame that I hadn't heard of him before. If I had studied law, maybe I would know his name. I am also quite curious about his idea of the possibility of defending peace through criminal law. I don't get it exactly right now, but it seems quite relevant for my project, so I feel that I have to find out more about his work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-1165314854292886821?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/1165314854292886821/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=1165314854292886821' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/1165314854292886821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/1165314854292886821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/04/father-of-term-genocide.html' title='Father of the term genocide'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6jPsMt_kI/AAAAAAAAAGg/Zua26sMEuQE/s72-c/RLemkin1951-140.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-1884835663640698074</id><published>2007-04-12T22:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2007-04-12T23:00:23.559+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travelling'/><title type='text'>Back to work and studies…</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After the hectic end of March the Easter holidays came as a relief. Now all the applications are sent and there is nothing more to do than to wait for answers, hopefully positive ones. And the holidays, from Mainz through Taizé to Marseille, is still a nice memory. So before coming to the point (next post) three postcards that I didn't send by mail … &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052646663260077602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6bXsMt_iI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/L_rDEJGeX_8/s400/S5001481.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Grüsse aus Mainz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052644683280154082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6ZkcMt_eI/AAAAAAAAAFw/pKi47blKYwI/s400/S5001559.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Salut de Taizé&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052644932388257266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6Zy8Mt_fI/AAAAAAAAAF4/apjwLP_0v1E/s400/S5001652.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; Bisous de Marseille&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-1884835663640698074?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/1884835663640698074/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=1884835663640698074' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/1884835663640698074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/1884835663640698074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/04/back-to-work-and-studies.html' title='Back to work and studies…'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/Rh6bXsMt_iI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/L_rDEJGeX_8/s72-c/S5001481.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-4932172329413483032</id><published>2007-03-14T00:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-14T00:56:21.006+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Literature'/><title type='text'>African literature</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;If you happen to know (or somebody who does) any good African writers who you would like to recommend, I would be grateful for the hints. I have come up with an idea of reading some books written by African authors and need some recommendations. I have already started to search in Wikipedia and just now I am reading “The Interpreters” by Nigerian Wole Soyinka.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I was amazed by the biographies of the African writers. So many of them have been either officials or politicians as well. And I am not sure what to think if there are only 13 Ugandan writers in Wikipedia, and among them the contemporary president Yoweri Kaguta Museveni.  And it is similar about the other countries as well. I suppose, I would rather read not as much politically engaged literature. But any suggestions are welcome!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-4932172329413483032?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/4932172329413483032/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=4932172329413483032' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/4932172329413483032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/4932172329413483032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/03/african-literature.html' title='African literature'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5821808221332368344</id><published>2007-03-09T23:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T23:24:59.612+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Language'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun'/><title type='text'>Spaghetti Polonaise</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Polish? Well… Country, people… language... Not as well known as English or French of course, neither can it compete with certain other languages which managed to acquire an internationally recognised reputation. But still one cannot deny that it is one of the biggest European languages. This European perspective may however appear to be only a popular misconception… at least when you happen to be out of Europe. But on the other hand… you never know and a sophisticated surprise is welcome. So what may be reactions to a declaration of being Polish, nowhere else but in Africa…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;br /&gt;In the bus on my way back from the hotel in Casablanca to the airport I was “cross-questioned” by a fellow passenger from one of the Mediterranean countries (he was not from Italy as the title may suggest). The conversation was actually in French which cannot be omitted in order to retell its essence.&lt;br /&gt;-Tu viens de?&lt;br /&gt;-Je suis Polonaise.&lt;br /&gt;-Bolognaise? Alors, tu parles Italienne!&lt;br /&gt;-Je suis Polonaise, pas Bolognaise!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;II&lt;br /&gt;Approaching gate at the airport there was another person who asked me the fundamental question where I came from. On my answering I heard this time that a friend of my interlocutor did speak Polish. I took it with a pinch of salt, expecting more another Polonaise-Bolognaise misunderstanding than a Malian speaking Polish in Casablanca. Not strange I was truly taken aback when the woman greeted me by “Jak się masz?” with a perfect Polish accent! Time is changing. And it seems that before 1989 the student exchange at Polish universities was not in as bad condition. At least within the fellow countries, included Mali. It turned out that the Malian lady studied at the academy of sport in Poland during the 1980’s. Even in Gdańsk! Can you imagine!    &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5821808221332368344?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5821808221332368344/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5821808221332368344' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5821808221332368344'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5821808221332368344'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/03/spaghetti-polonaise.html' title='Spaghetti Polonaise'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-4799640745380344396</id><published>2007-03-09T00:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:39:42.335+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Language'/><title type='text'>Frananglais is cool!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;After all &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6376389.stm"&gt;Frananglais&lt;/a&gt; could be next time a remedy to my linguistic confusion in a French-speaking country. It seems to me that I understand it quite well and I would certainly perform much better in Frananglais than in French. I wonder only how the speaking version of Frananglais sounds... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-4799640745380344396?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/4799640745380344396/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=4799640745380344396' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/4799640745380344396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/4799640745380344396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/03/frananglais-is-cool.html' title='Frananglais is cool!'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5567358301310482858</id><published>2007-03-04T16:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:39:20.512+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='League of Nations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='History'/><title type='text'>Not as much exotic as it used to be...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;As I am not travelling at the moment, I haven't got any travel stories to tell. I realise also that it is time to get over my Mali high and get down to the daily business. Therefore it came to my mind that I could start with making clear what I am actually studying here in Oslo. As my doctoral project has been since recently available also in English, although in quite a shortened form, I thought to put it here, since it may happen that somebody very strongly (I stress: really very strongly) wishes to get to know the most important points of the project. So here it is... just under the introducing photo to make it more eye-catching :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RerqtBvtjPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/sNU3N1VJiUk/s1600-h/LaPlagne+134.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038097192450886898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RerqtBvtjPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/sNU3N1VJiUk/s400/LaPlagne+134.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Palais des Nations in Geneva - January 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;-----------------------------------------------&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Norway in the League of Nations – a small state’s idealism towards the politics of great powers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Presentation of the problem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The philosophy behind the League of Nations represented a fundamental shift in thought from the pre-World War I methods of law and politics and a unique moment when international affairs was institutionalized. The organization, founded as a result of the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, was however to exhibit the dissonances between the allies. In spite of certain scepticism with regards to small states’ lack of influence on drafting the Covenant and the League of Nations’ lacking universality, Norway joined the organisation 4th March 1920. The assumptions that the international system after the war had to be based on the international order, as well as a fear for the international isolation, were among the fundamental reasons for Norway entering the League of Nations. These factors turned out to be even stronger than reservations about abandoning the previous unconditional neutral line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Norwegian engagement in the League of Nations is seen through the perspective of Norwegian policy makers’ perceptions of Norway’s peace policy, which however not necessarily were claimed to be exactly defined. My temporary definition includes all the activity conducted by and on behalf of the Norwegian state for promoting the international peace. To the most significant prerequisites for Norway’s pursuit for peace in the interwar period belong: peaceful relations between Norway and its neighbours; the fact that Norwegian foreign policy makers were oriented towards peaceful solutions to conflicts with other states; and not least Norway’s active membership in the League of Nations as a forum to promote international law as the basis for solving conflicts between nations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olav Riste’s idea of continuity in Norwegian foreign policy, that considers the interwar period as its formative period, provides a background to imply that the nowadays desire to promote Norway as a “humanitarian great power” may be also seen in a historical perspective, with regard to Norway’s efforts to support peaceful solutions to conflicts, disarmament and maintenance of peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point made by Patrick Salmon on differences between small states and great powers: ”Small states hanker after the world as it ought to be; great powers deal with the world as it is.” illustrates a characteristic feature of many small states, which strongly emphasize internationalist principles, international law, and other “morally minded” ideals, also because it is in their own interest, much more than in the interest of great powers. Accordingly, the relation between idealistic attitudes existing among the Norwegian political elites, which have strongly contributed to launching an image of Norway as a particularly peace loving country, and the country’s realpolitik as it was performed in the League of Nations takes a significant place in my project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Theoretical foundation&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The years after the end of the World War I witnessed fundamental changes in the international system, with strong implications for small state foreign policy. For the first time in history small states had a chance to participate in shaping the international order and consequently gain another status than only pawns in great powers’ competition. The establishment of the League of Nations, a consensus organization where all the members had principally the same rights, was a milestone in this process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David Vitals definition of a small state is a point of departure to consider Norway to be a representative for the small states class: ”...the small (or minor) power is that state which, in the long term, can constitute no more than a dispensable and non-decisive increment to a primary state’s total array of political and military resources regardless of whatever short term, contingent weight as an auxiliary (or obstacle) to the primary power it may have in certain circumstances.” The main reason for choosing the theory is however a need to emphasize that the distinction between great powers and small states is not only of quantitative, but first and foremost of qualitative character. Such a perspective contributes to considering a small state as a totally relevant actor in the international relations, in spite of its military, economic and other limitations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Method&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The method used in the project is based on R. G. Collingwood’s theory of “re-enactment of past experience”, which comprises two principles: “experience of that form of thought” and “[reflection] upon that experience”. The method seems especially suitable to support the project about Norway’s role in the League of Nations, because a substantial part of the international relations remains “unspoken assumptions” (O. Riste). The sphere of “the unspoken assumptions” exercises often at least as crucial influence as the official side. For Norway’s foreign and security policy in the interwar period this two-dimensionality has its particular relevance with regard to the ‘implicit guarantee’ from Britain, the interaction between Norwegian national interests and the country’s peace engagement, and not least the widening gap between theory and practise in the League of Nations’ activity. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5567358301310482858?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5567358301310482858/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5567358301310482858' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5567358301310482858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5567358301310482858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/03/not-as-much-exotic-as-it-used-to-be.html' title='Not as much exotic as it used to be...'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/RerqtBvtjPI/AAAAAAAAAE8/sNU3N1VJiUk/s72-c/LaPlagne+134.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-8145713785499818671</id><published>2007-02-25T11:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:41:42.673+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><title type='text'>Mali - Part 2</title><content type='html'>While it is still snowing outside, I continue the Bamako story…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFoAd7DFEI/AAAAAAAAACs/-zQnQbfE70U/s1600-h/185.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035420215618507842" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFoAd7DFEI/AAAAAAAAACs/-zQnQbfE70U/s320/185.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wedding in Keti&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amadou-mariam.com/videos/videos.php?idtrack=9"&gt;« Le dimanche a Bamako, c’est le jour des mariages… »&lt;/a&gt; sing &lt;a href="http://www.amadou-mariam.com/"&gt;Amadou and Mariam&lt;/a&gt;, as far as now my favourite Malian group, which I am listening to quite often here in Oslo. And the words appeared not without meaning since the first Sunday in Bamako my friends and me were invited to a marriage in Keti, not far away from the capital city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFoPt7DFFI/AAAAAAAAAC0/w5YZ9kOQeEc/s1600-h/184.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035420477611512914" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFoPt7DFFI/AAAAAAAAAC0/w5YZ9kOQeEc/s320/184.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although we did not see the ceremony itself, we could join the singing party in the village centre. There was a big tent, where all invited women, and we (the only European guests, as it seemed), were sitting, singing or listening to others performance. The men were apparently enjoying the party another place, but I have not got to know where, as I did not ask.&lt;br /&gt;All the best for the young marrieds! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Segou – Festival sur le Niger &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFr697DFII/AAAAAAAAADM/jGs20nBdWz4/s1600-h/270.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035424519175738498" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFr697DFII/AAAAAAAAADM/jGs20nBdWz4/s320/270.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The last weekend I went to Segou to join &lt;a href="http://www.festivalsegou.org/"&gt;Festival sur le Niger&lt;/a&gt;. Although Segou is not a big town, and certainly much smaller than Bamako, the frequency of meeting there a tourist or a resident seemed much higher than in the capital city. All this because of the festival. And since all the hotels were overbooked, the only place left where we could overnight was a terrace of the restaurant Soleil de Minuit. And contrary to my expectations of being eaten alive by the hordes of mosquitoes, since Segou like Bamako is situated on the Niger, I hardly heard one during the night. Segou is simply situated higher than Bamako and mosquitoes are no longer such a plague there. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReGXYN7DFPI/AAAAAAAAAEE/6ZHoN4cQnOE/s1600-h/281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035472300686906610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReGXYN7DFPI/AAAAAAAAAEE/6ZHoN4cQnOE/s320/281.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A pirogue trip on the Niger belongs without doubts to the best moments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFswd7DFLI/AAAAAAAAADk/BQMd8r3KGsY/s1600-h/266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035425438298739890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFswd7DFLI/AAAAAAAAADk/BQMd8r3KGsY/s320/266.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The festival scene installed on the river bank attracted many people in the evenings, us among them. The concerts went into the small hours, before we used to return to our terrace lodging. To my great joy Amadou and Mariam was one of the performing groups. I felt really lucky to hear "Beau dimanche" on live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReGIwt7DFOI/AAAAAAAAAD8/I9W0sMHs6hQ/s1600-h/290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035456228919284962" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReGIwt7DFOI/AAAAAAAAAD8/I9W0sMHs6hQ/s320/290.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The last day in Segou was also my last day in Mali... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are many persons who I did not even mention here, but who made my holidays beautiful! And first of fall who made my holidays possible! Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-8145713785499818671?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/8145713785499818671/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=8145713785499818671' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/8145713785499818671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/8145713785499818671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/02/mali-part-2.html' title='Mali - Part 2'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReFoAd7DFEI/AAAAAAAAACs/-zQnQbfE70U/s72-c/185.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5030174737072085626</id><published>2007-02-24T16:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:41:26.039+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><title type='text'>Mali - Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBdWWm7Q0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/w1iEEDxCYL0/s1600-h/302.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035127022007567170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBdWWm7Q0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/w1iEEDxCYL0/s320/302.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After a few weeks of digesting my impressions from Mali I feel that it is high time I shared also some other memories than just the linguistic holiday perturbations. I have to refrain myself from describing Mali as a typical African country, since I had never visited any. Neither am I going to give a tourist-friendly description of Bamako or Segou as it can be found in guidebooks. Instead of this I shall recall some of the most enjoyable and exciting moments I have experienced during the fortnight’s holiday in Mali.&lt;br /&gt;Voilà!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days in Bamako&lt;br /&gt;In the beginning a few words of clarification: I have not been on any safari, and I have seen neither lion, gorilla, giraffe nor hippo, as some had suggested it is a must on a trip to Africa. Firstly, it is not especially usual that wild creatures take a walk in a capital city, I suppose. Secondly, I suspect it was not exactly the best latitude to experience such attractions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBdJmm7QzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/aS1IVAulkrs/s1600-h/PIC00504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035126802964235058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBdJmm7QzI/AAAAAAAAAB0/aS1IVAulkrs/s320/PIC00504.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Most of the days I spent getting to know Bamako - Mali’s capital city. Thanks to the kindness of my loyal guide Youssouf, who accompanied me in my daily escapades from Korofina, where I was living, to the different parts of the city centre, I managed to see quite a lot. According to my host I managed to see even more than he had done during three months since he had arrived at Bamako. But it is apparently a question of quality contra quantity, so I cannot completely agree on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBaDmm7QtI/AAAAAAAAABE/mCsxonr33xg/s1600-h/067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035123401350136530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBaDmm7QtI/AAAAAAAAABE/mCsxonr33xg/s320/067.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Le marche des artisians was probably the place in Bamako which I found the most fascinating. Making your way in the crowded streets which form the market’s layout it is possible to buy anything you need. At least almost as possible as it is probable to lose your way. As for my part the unquestioned market hit is a corner with stalls offering equipment for fortune-tellers and other magicians. Fancy a monkey skull or a gazelle tail? Here is the place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBaumm7QuI/AAAAAAAAABM/Pz5PR7OxA4w/s1600-h/236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035124140084511458" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBaumm7QuI/AAAAAAAAABM/Pz5PR7OxA4w/s320/236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoying the diversity of quite exotic products I followed my wish and bought a fabric for an African dress. With a help of Youssouf and his friend Nana a process of choosing a fabric and later of having it sewn took no more than few days. And still in Bamako I could proudly wear my new dress, which was partly inspired by some traditional local trends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBbF2m7QvI/AAAAAAAAABU/0NWiTO04Rh8/s1600-h/076.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035124539516470002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBbF2m7QvI/AAAAAAAAABU/0NWiTO04Rh8/s320/076.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBbTGm7QwI/AAAAAAAAABc/LFzJ_jlwdg0/s1600-h/063.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035124767149736706" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBbTGm7QwI/AAAAAAAAABc/LFzJ_jlwdg0/s320/063.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;With regard to Bamako monuments, I think I liked particularly Tour de l’Afrique (left) which overlooks the road to the airport. Maybe it cannot compete with Bank of Africa (right) on being the highest in the city, but it is certainly much more original.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBbp2m7QxI/AAAAAAAAABk/PpdGr5pXNHw/s1600-h/109.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035125157991760658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBbp2m7QxI/AAAAAAAAABk/PpdGr5pXNHw/s320/109.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;In the need for taking a breath of fresh air after weekdays in Bamako nothing could compare to the tranquil atmosphere of the Tinbuctu restaurant on the other side of the Niger. Invited there by my friend I enjoyed this marvellous place, as well as delicious couscous, with real pleasure. And the peaceful and comfortable Arabic design of Tinbuctu will take a special place in my Bamako memories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBcJmm7QyI/AAAAAAAAABs/j4x4jm-HyMY/s1600-h/125.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5035125703452607266" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBcJmm7QyI/AAAAAAAAABs/j4x4jm-HyMY/s320/125.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Invitation to &lt;a href="http://www.ambafrance-ml.org/article.php3?id_article=287"&gt;Le Centre Culturel Français&lt;/a&gt; on the Saturday evening was another pleasant event arranged by my friend. And concert of Malian contemporary most famous singer &lt;a href="http://salifkeita.artistes.universalmusic.fr/"&gt;Salif Keita&lt;/a&gt;, which took place there, let me experience and enjoy a top-class of the African music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T.B.C. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5030174737072085626?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5030174737072085626/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5030174737072085626' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5030174737072085626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5030174737072085626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/02/mali-part-1.html' title='Mali - Part 1'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ErtNZ_p8euU/ReBdWWm7Q0I/AAAAAAAAAB8/w1iEEDxCYL0/s72-c/302.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-5049798138688694131</id><published>2007-02-14T17:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:41:12.152+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Language'/><title type='text'>A French point of view</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;(From Mali - observations on the margin)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A general:&lt;br /&gt;- The French language rules the world&lt;br /&gt;- Even if some people don’t agree with this statement, they have no other choice but to accept it, especially when they happen to visit a French speaking country&lt;br /&gt;- Yes, we do speak also English – sometimes and when we want to – it is you who has to make a try. You don’t understand enough…? What a pity! But we don’t bother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A particular:&lt;br /&gt;- Poland is not situated in Europe. Ok, it is not Asia, but it is certainly not Europe.&lt;br /&gt;- Polish people are very complicated (= boring) and drink much too much. Every experience has seemed to confirm these assumptions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stories about the French not bothering to speak English are well known. But still in France the French cannot develop their national linguistic pride fully. At least some steps to facilitate the international contacts must be taken. Otherwise the European Commission could possibly intervene. But don’t lose hope! There are many places all over the world where the power of the French language can be exercised with a subtle feeling of superiority and where the English appears to be &lt;em&gt;lingua not grata&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;The previous French colonies, among them Mali, are without doubt the main area of the French linguistic dominance. Nowhere else is it so natural and easy to claim the priority of the French language. For the obvious reasons Bambara and the other local languages are also tolerated. But having mentioned to a Frenchman (by the way quite neutrally) the fact that the Malian museums lack descriptions in English or having expressed the feeling of being lost in a realm of the French sounds, you risk being blamed for considerably pessimistic attitude on the whole, and in this case in particular.&lt;br /&gt;Therefore when you happen to find yourself in the company of French residents in the previous French colony, you need to take into considerations some circumstances. Letting you sit confused and lost without understanding of the conversation, being held in French of course, should by no means be interpreted as ill-mannered. The French courtesy intends to give you a unique possibility of testing your listening comprehension in French on the spot. Taking it for granted that sooner or later you have to learn French it is indeed a real thoughtfulness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uff…&lt;br /&gt;Being an English speaking foreigner in a French speaking country may be tough. And it doesn’t make the situation better if you come from such a vacuum between Europe and Asia, as the area where Poland is situated is said to be for the time being. Just forget about Western and Eastern Europe. Even if such a division does exist, it does not matter, as it is only the western part which actually deserves the name. Accordingly, it is quite unusual to consider Poland as a European country.&lt;br /&gt;After being defined as an out-of-Europe subject I had to face the truth. The Polish lifestyle can be summarized by two standard features: being complicated and drinking too much alcohol. Which of these two is the prior and which the latter or if there is at all any connection between them remains a puzzle, but such are facts. Quite well known facts indeed, not only in France, and the observations have confirmed them too many times.&lt;br /&gt;Not drinking too much, as I never do, I managed at least to fulfil the expectations of being an exceptionally complicated Polish person. Being so complicated I used to consider everything to be too complicated, or much more complicated then it really was. I found it also very complicated to express myself in French and to understand French. But it was me who made it so complicated. If I were not so complicated I would not have found it as much complicated. After all it was not my first contact with the French language, so I should not have found everything so complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. To all my French friends, those from Mali in particular: J’aime beacoup la langue française et un jour je vais parler français et comprendre français bien. Je promis! Vous avez ma parole! Et merci beaucoup pour mon magnifique sejour au Mali!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-5049798138688694131?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/5049798138688694131/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=5049798138688694131' title='1 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5049798138688694131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/5049798138688694131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/02/french-point-of-view.html' title='A French point of view'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2182095328260615421.post-2513143166657499632</id><published>2007-02-12T22:47:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-03-09T17:40:57.208+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Africa'/><title type='text'>Back from Mali</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;Hello to everybody! Still under impression of my first meeting with the African continent I put some of the photos on my blog. Of course, there are many photos, so let me just pick up these, I think, which make me strongest remember the African sun even in the snowy Oslo. Bamako, Segou... still on my mind, as if the time has stopped... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2182095328260615421-2513143166657499632?l=martique.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/feeds/2513143166657499632/comments/default' title='Publier les commentaires'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2182095328260615421&amp;postID=2513143166657499632' title='0 commentaires'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2513143166657499632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2182095328260615421/posts/default/2513143166657499632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://martique.blogspot.com/2007/02/back-from-mali.html' title='Back from Mali'/><author><name>martique</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://profile.ak.facebook.com/profile5/703/15/t648205631_9317.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
