More Sunday roundup

Bosnia's not doing so well.

Let's all give the Hitler rhetoric a rest.

A travel writer explores a very pertinent dilemma:

Almost any traveler who has ventured into nature or the developing world has to grapple with such moral dilemmas. Some people think it is cruel to swim with dolphins, because it forces the animals to be kept in captivity. Others refuse to visit authoritarian countries such as Zimbabwe, fearful that their tourist dollars will help prop up repressive regimes. And almost anyone wanting to catch a glimpse of an indigenous culture -- in the rain forests of Ecuador or the yurts of Mongolia -- has to be aware that the very presence of a foreigner likely alters and distorts typical native behavior.

She later writes:

So is it unethical to visit the long-necked women? It is clearly true that money spent to visit them supports an artificial village from which they essentially cannot leave. On the other hand, many of them appeared to prefer living in virtual confinement as long as they are paid and safe. According to what they told me, their situation beats the alternative of living in a repressive country plagued by abject poverty and hunger.

I don't feel guilty about visiting the Padaung, but my feelings might be different if I had traveled solely as a tourist rather than as a journalist. And I certainly don't like their lot in life: Shouldn't everyone have the freedom to live and travel wherever they want?

You've heard me wax nostalgic about France. I haven't, but certainly can, do the same over French food, and so it crushes me that there's now a consensus that it's not what it used to be.

What always struck me about French food was its freshness and emphasis on flavor and quality ingredients. It was about bringing out the best in each vegetable, grain, etc. and making the meal so much more than the sum of its amazing parts. I really learned to love food in France (and Switzerland). I guess there's solace to be found in the idea, according to the article, that the tradition lives on, albeit outside of France.