Hello, and happy Friday! I’ve been spending much of this week thinking about “escape routes,” a term I picked up from my friends at The Bunker podcast that refers to the books, films, music, and other miscellaneous activities that transport you away from the world of politics. Last year, I had far too few of these: Most of the podcasts and books I consumed were about current events, and the rest of my leisure time was spent doomscrolling through Twitter.
This year, I’ve resolved to change that—a process that has so far involved trying to improve my latte art game, keeping my Duolingo streak alive, and getting better at bouldering (for those who are familiar with the V-scale grading system, I recently completed a V2 after several tries, which was a very big deal for me at the time).
I’m keen to add more to this list, so if you have any escape routes that you’re fond of, hit ‘reply’ and let me know! I’ll share some of my favorites in the next correspondence.
In podcast news: I joined The Bunker this week to discuss the situation in Ukraine, the end of COVID restrictions, and which TV shows should be brought back or axed (obviously, I talked about Frasier). You can tune in on all good podcasting apps—find yours here.
What I’ve written
Learning to live with COVID-19 can take a lot of forms, depending on your means. I wrote about what it has looked like for the super rich, who have had a very different pandemic to the rest of us:
To get a glimpse into the world of the affluent during the pandemic, I reached out to many of the businesses that flourished off them. Private jets, superyachts, personal catering, concierge medicine—these industries have not only survived but thrived during the pandemic, in large part because they could provide their customers with all the things that COVID-19 had rendered in short supply, like safely, seclusion, and, above all, a sense of control. The wealthy have already learned how to live with COVID-19 (albeit at a very high cost). Now the rest of the world must figure out how to do the same, on a budget. Keep reading here
I wrote the introduction for this moving photo essay about Ukraine’s civilian soldiers, whose portraits show the human cost of the country’s never-ending crisis:
Many of the people pictured said that they are ready to return to their civilian lives. But with the threat of another Russian incursion looming, and with diplomatic talks between the Kremlin and the West still ongoing, it’s not clear that they will be able to leave the battlefield anytime soon. Maksym Kozub, an interpreter turned platoon commander who was wounded in Ukraine’s Russian-occupied Donbas region in 2014, told Caimi and Piccinni that he would be prepared to return to war after he completes rehabilitation of his left arm, a bone from which was shattered after he was hit by a sniper’s bullet. The way soldiers like him see it, what’s at stake is not only Ukraine’s sovereignty, which Putin has demonstrated little regard for, but also the future of its democracy. Keep reading here
What I’ve read
This fascinating piece on the weaponization of history by right-wing nationalists (The Washington Post)
Illiberalism is on the march, and with it come calls to sweep out the prevailing order and make the nation “great again.” The nationalist fixation on the past always carries with it a fantasy of the future, of a world reborn and renewed.
This important exposé on the exploitative conditions of Facebook’s digital “sweatshops,” which pay content moderators as little as $1.50 per hour (TIME)
In an era where Facebook has come under sustained fire for failing to stem the flow of misinformation, hate speech and incitement to violence on its platforms, the company is often praised when it says it is increasing the number of dollars it spends on safety. But hiring content moderators in the U.S. and Europe is expensive compared to the cheap labor available in Kenya and other countries in the Global South like India and the Philippines. The rise of content moderation centers in these countries has led some observers to raise concerns that Facebook is profiting from exporting trauma along old colonial axes of power, away from the U.S. and Europe and toward the developing world.
This beautiful essay on food, identity, and the illusion of a national cuisine (The Atlantic)
National dishes connect us to our specific, cherished history. They’re a way for diasporic communities to access an uncomplicated pride in our homelands, to enjoy a totem of culture that feels constant. When your birthplace is out of reach or your identity is questioned, a food heritage sometimes feels like all you have. But these cuisines—whose lineages are in fact wonderfully muddled—also connect us to a wider, interdependent world. When I add tahini and cardamom to my cheesecake, or flavor my schnitzel with za’atar, or wrap my shawarma in a tortilla, I’m both nurturing a connection to my homeland and paying tribute to the borderless nature of food cultures.
What I’m thinking about
… or, more aptly, listening to. Last week, I discovered this incredible mashup of one of the Arab world’s most famous dance songs with the late ‘90s classic “Barbie Girl.” I have listened to little else since:
Until next time,
Yasmeen