Children and The Hunger Games

If you have been even the slightest bit plugged into the news these past few days, it is a safe bet that you've heard of The Hunger Games, the ticket sales juggernaut that swept across multiplexes this past weekend. The first in the trilogy was published in late 2009 and the last one late last year. The books are classified as Young Adult Fiction (typically targeted at readers between the ages of 12 and 18).

Discussions surrounding the movie and the books have branched off into hundreds of little tentacles on the Internet and among friends. Everything from whether Jennifer Lawrence is too big to portray Katniss Everdeen, the heroine, to the appropriateness of the casting of the other parts, to how the movie differed from the books, and a lively discussion on the New York Times website about whether adults should be reading novels written for their children.

Among some parents (the ones who are not fighting for the books with their children, that is) there is also a general unease about whether the books are appropriate for children at the lower end of the age range targeted by Young Adult novelists. The books make no bones about the violence contained within their pages. The back flap to the first in the series reads, "Winning means fame and fortune. Losing means certain death. The Hunger Games have begun..." And no matter how you slice it, between 12 and 18 lies a huge difference not only in terms of physical growth but also in terms of emotional growth, social maturity, willingness to process and understand goings on in the world around us, and general ability to engage with more than self, family and friends.

There is no shortage of mature matter tackled in The Hunger Games. There is war, a rebellion of the states against their Capitol; there is deprivation and there are deeds of cruelty perpetrated by a government against its own citizens, young, old, sick and dying; there is torture and there are biological weapons; there is the harsh life of mining communities accompanied by the inevitable accidents leading to death and mayhem; there is bullying and peer pressure; there are absent fathers (because they are dead) and disengaged mothers; there are children who have had to grow up and take on adult responsibilities because there is no one else around who will take care of them (this characteristic is the premise of most novels in the Young Adult genre); then there is the hunger and the promise of riches and unending food supply if only you, a child yourself, would fight 23 other kids to the death; and the ignominy of having to do engage in the games for the pleasure and enjoyment of people of the Capitol who have not known a day's hardship in their lives.

Every page brings home the realization that in Panem, life is hard and life is unfair and unfair not in the way life is to a vain teenager when a zit makes an unwelcome appearance before a party.

But for anyone who has doubts if their fourth or fifth grader should be reading these books, I say The Hunger Games is but a reflection of what they see around them in newspapers, on television and radio, and unfortunately, to some extent in their own schools every day. The books represent an amazing opportunity to think about those issues beyond the headlines.

You know your child best of course and their capacity to process highly evocative material, but if he or she follows the goings on in the world, it will not take long for them to draw parallels between what they are reading in the books and the ticker on the bottom of their television screens - the Arab uprisings and the brutal quelling, the peer pressure children face in school, the emotional toll of cliques, the wars and divorces that have taken fathers and mothers away from their children, the crushing poverty not only in large parts of the world, but in America too, and the harsh lives of child soldiers of Africa and Latin America who kill each other for the promise of food and a better life for their families.

The bone-chilling truth is that while we debate about whether our children should read such stories and try to protect them from this knowledge, there are human beings all over the world who are living the lives of abject poverty so richly detailed in The Hunger Games series.

The Hunger Games also offers a rather long and eye-opening peek behind the scenes of reality television shows.

It was a long time ago, but I still clearly remember the first time I learned that advertising firms used mashed potatoes as a stand-in for ice cream in ads. It was as if a veil had come off and I could clearly see that things were not as they appeared. And just as a word that you've newly learned suddenly seems to pop up everywhere, so too did evidence of gimmickry and sleight-of-hand in all sorts of advertisements.

These days, mashed potatoes that can withstand the glare of flood lights is the least of gimmickry that kids (and their parents) have to worry about. From teen magazines choosing to air brush away the slightest hint of baby fat to kids being constantly bombarded with messages about branding, food and self-image (such as kids being sold sugary foods while being held up to an impossible thinness standard), fact and fiction lead an uneasy co-existence in children's lives.

The games in the book series are organized as reality television and the machinations the producers resort to just to keep the ratings up and keep audience interest from flagging are painfully obvious. It can only help to educate kids in all the ways in which companies seek to manipulate them and hold their interest for gain.

So go ahead, let your tween read the books. But their understanding of the ideas will be infinitely richer if you read them as well and spare the time to discuss the various issues that I am sure will come up. In our household at least, both my son and I have been talking about the books and the movie giddily for the last few days.

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Also read: Suzanne Collins's interview with the New York Times. It offers a revealing look at the forces in her own life that shaped the plot in The Hunger Games.

In Honor of Mardi Gras, A Little Slice of New Orleans

In just a few hours, Mardi Gras will get underway in New Orleans, one of my favorite cities in all the world. Over Christmas break, with the Sugar Bowl, a Saints game and New Year's parties all happening around that time, the city was buzzing with excitement and energy.

But what's a good party without food, eh? Each meal was an event in itself, as we tried to get our fill of the delicious Creole cuisine. And one memory that will stick around for a long time is that of biting into a piping hot, sugary beignet.

Not really knowing what to expect, we ordered one plate for the table, for two adults and two kids. One bite in, the consensus was to order two more plates. The chicory-rich coffee made for a heavenly accompaniment. We peppered our 20 year-old waiter with questions about the restaurant and the hugely popular dish (the lines went out the door for at least a block on all the days we were there). He invited us to take a peek into the part of the kitchen where the beignets were being made.

They must get the request a lot. Through huge glass windows that looked out onto a walkway at the back of the restaurant, we saw two men working silently and continuously, feeding the dough into a machine that sliced it and took it along a belt.

Starting from one end of the belt, the men would pick up the individual pieces, prime them in their hands and fling them across the air into the huge vats of boiling oil.

Each plate came with three or four beignets. Snowy mountains of powdered sugar rose precariously on top. Towards the end of the meal, that we had paid a visit to Cafe du Monde for the express purpose of devouring beignets was obvious. Our clothes, bags, and even parts of our hair bore the tell tale evidence.

And as always in New Orleans, music was never far away. Just outside the railing the separated the eating area from the sidewalk, this young man played the trumpet.

  

Profiting from Social Media

Sree Sreenivasan, a professor of digital media and dean of student affairs at Columbia Journalism School, has a new blog on CNET. His first post is on profiting from social media.

Jabberwock's Review of Katherine Boo's Behind the Beautiful Forevers

I recently heard an interview with Katherine Boo on radio and want to get her book, Behind the Beautiful Forevers, about life in Annawadi, a slum in Mumbai. This Jabberwock review seals the deal. And here's an interesting profile of the author in The New York Times.

Swimming Lessons in Bangalore at the Nisha Millet Swimming Academy

Olympian Nisha Millet runs the Nisha Millet Swimming Academy at various locations in Bangalore for many age groups and skill levels - from five year-olds to 70 year-olds, from beginners to competitive swimmers. Check out her Facebook page for more details. From first hand experience, I can say that she has a firm but gentle approach with the kids and gets them to love the water, which as many parents will tell you is first biggest hurdle on the road to learning to be a good swimmer. Happy swimming!

Theater Review: Adventure Theatre's A Snowy Day

There are few things more delightful than an afternoon spent surrounded by a gaggle of giggling five and six year-olds. And there was plenty of opportunity for that at a showing of Adventure Theatre's new musical production, The Snowy Day. Based on Ezra Jack Keats' Caldecott Medal winning children's book of the same name, the antics of the four main characters in the play provide plenty of action, adventure and food for thought for audiences young and and not-so-young.

Keats' The Snowy Day is the tale of a young boy, Peter, who wakes up one day to find snow blanketing his neighborhood. As young children are wont to do, he puts on his snow suit and dashes outside to make snowmen and snow angels and snow balls. The plot line is endearing in its simplicity and in the way it evokes the familiar pleasures of staying home from school to have fun in the snow, to stomp through it, to draw lines in it and knock snow off of trees to make your own instant, on-demand snowfall. The book is a stand-out for two reasons - for its art, and for the fact that it was the first children's book in which the main character was black.

In Adventure Theatre's production, Playwright David Emerson Toney and Musician & Lyricist Darius Smith have adapted Keats' book and expanded each occurrence in it to include more characters and sub-plots. We meet Harold the snowman, Roberta the crow, Peter's mother, two neighbors, a fairy, a pirate and a hawker who sells snow flakes in a very warm and sunny place.

Peter has never seen snow before, and he is full of wonder at this white, crunchy stuff that has covered everything as far as he can see. The snowy day is packed with promise as he heads out in his bright red snow suit. There are hills to climb, slopes to slide down and snow pirates to vanquish. He marvels at the possibilities and pretends he's Peter the Great. Peter's mother has nourished his body and soul and Peter has no problem letting his imagination run wild. He wants someone to play with and in Harold and Roberta, he finds playmates but they also need his help to get where they need to go.

Without giving away too much of the plot, suffice to say that the music and lyrics had the children swaying, and the dialogue had them nodding in complete understanding of the boundaries imposed by mothers everywhere.

As a parent, the most revealing aspect of the production was the fact that the children in the audience absorbed the story within the context of a play. The sets, the props, the fact that there was no actual snow on the ground or that Peter's role was portrayed by someone obviously much older than a six year-old - none of these seemed to matter to the little ones. The children seemed to respond to the characters, to their fears and their joys, much as they would in a realistic movie or in a real-life situation.

Adventure Theatre's production of The Snowy Day brings to life a popular children's book (it's a staple in elementary school libraries) and is a marvelous introduction to musical theater for young kids. I have it on good authority: my five year-old declared it was "the best play" she had ever seen.

Children younger than three might find the proximity of the action a bit overwhelming. The stage is intimate and the action is up close (which is fantastic for the older pre-schoolers and the younger elementary school-age children).
~~~~~~

The Snowy Day is playing at the Adventure Theatre in Glen Echo, Maryland from January 20, 2012 through February 12, 2012. Tickets may be purchased at Adventure Theatre's website. More information about the play is available here and about the cast and production crew, here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Updated January 26, 2102 to include a note from Adventure Theatre:

Due to the demand for Snowy Day tickets, Adventure Theatre has added the following performances:

Sunday, January 29th at 4:30pm
Friday, February 3rd at 7:00pm
Sunday, February 5th at 4:30pm
Friday, February 10th at 7:00pm
Sunday, February 12th at 4:30pm

Forbes Article on D.C. Pedicabs

The nose wheel makes an acute turn and plants itself in the six-foot-wide gap between two cars idling at a traffic light on 14^thStreet. Before we have time to analyse just how our driver would steer the rest of the 10-foot-long ‘pedicab’ into that space, we’re straddling another lane line a few feet down the road between a big, red tourist bus and a truck. A few more zigs and zags later, we are in front of a bank of vehicles at least 30 cars deep, clear of all the exhaust. Our driver looks back at us and declares triumphantly, “Like I said, this is not my first day on the job!”

For the past two years, Will Visbeck has been honing his skills as a driver of a pedicab – known to the rest of the world variously as cycle rickshaw, cyclo, becak or trishaw – on the streets of Washington, D.C. It has no roof, doors, seatbelts, airbags, rear-view mirrors or stereo systems (though headlight, taillight and turn signals are in evidence) but we do get to make leisurely circles around statues and monuments as our driver keeps up his commentary of the sights.

Originally published in ForbesLife India. A link to the pdf version is here.

Travel Essay: Budapest

Ajay Devgn. Aishwarya Rai Bachchan. His stark white suit. Her lusciously rich red sari. The earthy tones of the concrete and metal of Chain Bridge. A maudlin song wailing in the background. Their meeting on the deserted bridge. Her limpid eyes. His sad face. And…you know the rest.

The scene plays out in slow motion in my mind’s eye as we gaze at the majestic Chain Bridge from the low wall that separates a bustling promenade from the expanse of the Danube (known as the Duna in Hungary). The late afternoon breeze is soothing. We catch snippets of conversations in many tongues, familiar and unfamiliar. Buda’s Castle Hill rises on the left bank of the river on the far side. On the east bank where we stand, Pest sprawls as far as the eye can see.

The rest in last weekend's Mint Lounge.

Travel Essay: Vienna

The drone of early morning traffic trickles in through the thick double-paned kitchen windows and into our apartment in the heart of Vienna. I hear buses, cars and a couple of motorbikes, usual fare for a modern city. Then, distinct from the mix, I hear a familiar sound from a long time ago—the clip-clop of a horse’s hooves. In an instant I’m transported to my grandmother’s house in Mysore, to the sounds of jataka gaadis packed with children going off to school.

The memory propels me to look outside. I leave the water for the tea to boil on the stove and open the windows wide.

A shopkeeper spruces up the display case
in a candy/pastry shop.
There are no bars or screens and I can lean out far enough to see the ends of the street on both sides. Crisp sunshine bathes the multi-storeyed building across from our window. The air is fresh and holds the promise of pleasant weather. Stylishly dressed women walk briskly on the pavement, jackets and sweaters swinging on one arm. The owner of the art store downstairs rolls up the shutters. A couple of taxi cabs roll by and then the horse carriage comes into view.

The driver, sitting straight on his perch, guides his two horses and the carriage between rows of parked cars on either side of the street. A bus and two cars follow slowly behind, their drivers seemingly patient, their pace forced but stately. Then, as the carriage slows for cross-traffic at the intersection to my right, one of the horses decides to answer nature’s call and deposits copious amounts of waste in the middle of the street.

The sight rings a discordant note in the otherwise harmonious tableau outside the window, only because the street is otherwise spanking clean. The carriage continues on out of sight, as do the cars and the bus, leaving a messy street and making me wonder how the street manages to stay as clean as it does.

Half an hour later, I get my answer. An enormous machine slowly rumbles up the street, spraying water, scrubbing the street clean and scooping the mess right up into its bowels.

The new has figured out a way to live with the old.

When the Viennale, Vienna’s highly anticipated annual film festival (first held in 1960, this year will see the 48th event), lights up movie screens from 21 October-3 November, judges and film buffs new to the city are likely—in addition to settling disagreements on their way to crowning the winners—to notice one or two or 10 such discordant notes. They are bound to discover, however, that in a city so comfortable in its skin, such dissonance merely forms happy interludes in the mellifluous magnum opus that is Vienna.

Nowhere is the push-and-pull of the old and the new more obvious than at St Stephen’s Square (Stephansplatz) in the old city. The jaw-drop inspiring 12th century church of the Gothic variety dominates the pedestrian-only city centre. Straight across the cobbled street stands Hasshaus, a modern edifice of the shiny glass variety, whose catoptric facade offers a resplendent mirror image of the church.

Vienna’s most visually striking (and popular) example of departure from the norm, however, is Hundertwasser-Krawinahaus, an apartment complex designed by Austrian architect Friedensreich Hundertwasser.




















Nestled in a quiet street off Weissgerberstrasse, amid street upon street of identical, monochromatic, linear buildings, the apartments of Hundertwasser-Krawinahaus are a world apart. They appear to be stacked whimsically one on top of the other—we don’t detect straight lines other than in the window frames—the walls and pillars coloured in as if by a child. The interiors are closed to visitors (a note on the front door politely explains how discombobulating it is to have strangers traipsing through their homes), but a few blocks away, Kunst Haus Wien, a museum, is a visual and tactile journey into Hundertwasser’s philosophy. The floor is bumpy and uneven; the walls are wavy; colours seem to explode, rarely ending in straight lines.

Hundertwasser-Krawinahaus confirms what we have been feeling ever since our jaunt around the old city on the day of our arrival in Vienna—this city likes to have fun. And it doesn’t hesitate to call upon monuments and other historical landmarks in its pursuit of modern versions of entertainment.

So what if Vienna is not on the sea? Its denizens are not about to pass up a day at the beach. The 21km-long Danube Island, the by-product of Vienna’s elaborate flood protection system, is the go-to place for summer fun.

For year-round fun, the city boasts an expansive fairground for children and adults alike, the Prater. The century-old Giant Ferris Wheel which has come to symbolize Vienna dominates the Prater. Not only is it not cooped up in a museum, it still functions well enough to offer rides. More than 60m off the ground as you reach the highest point, it offers a bird’s-eye view of the tile-roofed, chimneyed, steeple-chased inner city, the glass and steel high-rises and the apartment buildings in the outer reaches.

At Schönbrunn Palace, the magnificent summer residence of the Hapsburgs—itself an ode to the good life—we find workmen constructing a massive stage with floodlights and speakers for a concert the next day. Inside, the private rooms, salons, galleries and reception rooms are a remarkably well-preserved window into the life of an empire that lasted six centuries. They offer a view of a monarchy appreciative and encouraging of the arts—Mozart performed for Maria Theresa in the Hall of Mirrors when he was six years old.


Schonbrunn Palace

The gardens and the expansive grounds of the palace
Perhaps one may find warm, welcoming cafés, lively city centres, rich museums and palaces or a prolific artistic legacy in other world cities. But to find them all, and to find a love of tradition, an enthusiasm for innovation and a hankering for fun, all in one neatly wrapped brown paper package tied up with strings, is a tall order indeed.

The essay was originally published in Mint. The trip planner (by Ahmed Raza Khan of Mint) is here.

Book Review: The It-Doesn't-Matter Suit, by Sylvia Plath

A few weeks ago we were at the library and I came across a book by Sylvia Plath in the children's section. I had never heard of Sylvia Plath writing books for kids. Out of curiosity, I picked it up. The jacket was bright and colorful with a happy-looking kid and his cat populating the front cover. The jacket blurb said that the book had remained "undiscovered for years within the Plath collection at Indiana University..." and that "Parents and scholars alike will also cherish this glimpse into the mind of a literary genius."

So did Calvin. He wrote about it for his book review column. Here's the review in its entirety.

Max Nix is seven years old and lives in a town called Winkelburg with his huge family. Everybody in Winkelburg has a suit. Every body except Max.

One day, a gigantic box arrives in the mail for the Nix family. Inside the box is a … bright mustard-yellow suit! First Max's father tries it on because it looks about his size. But he is a banker. No banker wears a suit like that! It's too yellow and bright.

With a little bit of stitching from Mama Nix, Max's eldest brother, Paul, tries it on. He says that he'll wear this suit for skiing the next day, but he changes his mind because he thinks his friends will laugh at him as the suit is too yellow.

This goes on and on. Each brother has a reason to not want the suit. Mama Nix has to keep on snipping and cutting at the edges until Max gets the suit. Max is very happy. He has his own suit! He says he will wear the suit "today and tomorrow and the day after that."

Everywhere Max goes and everything Max does, the suit is perfect for it. If the suit gets wet, it dries up immediately. If hay gets stuck to it, it's OK because hay is yellow too. Not a single person in Winkelburg has ever seen such a suit. If Max slides on ice, the suit doesn't tear because the cloth is extra-tough. If rain falls on it, the water slides right off. If anything happens to the suit, it doesn't matter because the suit is conditioned for everything. Max has the perfect suit!

The It-Doesn't-Matter Suit, illustrated by Rotraut Susanne Berner, is vivid and interesting. Sylvia Plath describes each of the brothers' situations in detail. Emil, one of Max's brothers, for example, likes riding the toboggan. But none of the other tobogganers wears such a bright suit. Emil thinks he'll look like a big show-off if he wears it.

It's a feel-good story. You feel happy when Max finally gets his suit. In the beginning, the book starts out with Max desperately wanting a suit, a suit that has uses all year round.

But I have questions about the book. Who sent the Nix family the package with the suit, and why did they? If it was meant for Max, why did they send it in such a big size? I'm inferring that this was a big set up and that the package was originally for Max. His parents probably sent it to themselves, and Paul and all the other brothers were forced to give the suit to Max and Mama Nix did all that cutting and snipping on purpose. I think they wanted it to be a big surprise for Max because he was the only one without a suit and because they loved him.

If you like a lovely, warm story, this is absolutely, one hundred percent, the book for you.

Article first published as Book Review: The It-Doesn't-Matter-Suit by Sylvia Plath on Blogcritics.

The-It-Doesn't-Matter Suit makes for a fantastic first foray into Sylvia Plath's writings. When Calvin gets to read her poetry, how wonderful for him to be able to recall this heart-warming story he'd already read years earlier! She has written other books for children as well, as I've now discovered - Collected Children's Stories and The Bed Book.

Advertisements and Parenting: A Little Bit of Help From an Unlikely Source

I am not a big fan of blaming television or video games for kids gone wild. Nor do I expect sports stars to be role models for my children. I don't believe that schools are solely responsible for making sure our children are well-educated. I don't blame advertisers or broadcast companies for airing enticing ads for sugary junk in the middle of what are touted to be educational programs.

What I believe is that parents have a big role to play in the lives of their children. Parents do have the responsibility, and, if they choose to use them, the resources and ability to guide their children in a way that does not let all those extraneous factors have more influence than the parents themselves do.

But I will be the first to say that it sure does not hurt to have some help from the inside. A couple of months ago, Businessweek carried an article about Alex Bogusky, an adversiting mogul whose biggest client was Burger King and who had a change of heart:

By June it was clear Bogusky wasn't just leaving the industry, he was turning on it. While most of his peers were at the annual Cannes Lions International Advertising Festival, he was advocating on his blog for a ban on advertising to kids. He named names, citing McDonald's (MCD) and Burger King, still a CP+B client. Then he sent the post by e-mail to Porter in Cannes. Porter has spoken about Bogusky and the piece just once, to Advertising Age: "I told him it was well written and made some great points, but I also said he needs to make a choice because [it's not compatible with the business we're in]. And the next morning he sent me a note saying, 'I resigned like you recommended.' "

[...]

In mid-July he interviewed Robyn O'Brien, author of The Unhealthy Truth: How Our Food Is Making Us Sick—and What We Can Do About It, and focused on genetically modified soybeans. "God created all these seeds but never got around to monetizing that s—t. God's a bad capitalist. So we said, let us show you how it's done," he said, to the bemusement of his guest. "We have a right to critique a food system created by a corporation....What if things don't turn out well and your kids come to you and ask: 'What did you do to try to stop this?' "

After School Care in Bangalore

I know day care is a big concern in Bangalore for those families in which both parents work and who don't have family there. A quick post to tell you about a new after school care center called Spectrum (via Sue). Here's their blurb and address:

Spectrum is an After School Care Centre where children nurtured through holistic development, leaving parents worry free to concentrate on their careers. Spectrum also has an Activity Centre and provision for academic support.

Location:
#213, 9th Main, HRBR Layout, Bangalore, India, 560043
Phone:
+919886320707

I don't have any personal experience with this center. I'm just passing this information on for those who are interested. Needless to say, please investigate the center and their services and make sure you are comfortable with them before signing up.

Update on Devan's Bone Marrow Transplant Search

Update to this post below, from Time Magazine:

Devan's doctor informed the family a cord blood match had turned up. It's not a perfect solution, but Devan's doctor says it's good enough. Blood from the umbilical cord is rich in blood-forming cells, and cord blood doesn't have to match quite as closely as marrow from an adult. In the U.S. registry, compared to the over eight million potential marrow donors, there are only about 160,000 cord blood units. Tatlow urged pregnant women to donate their cord blood: "For pregnant women, your baby's umbilical cord, which is otherwise thrown away, can save a life. It just seems like a very simple thing to do for the greater good of mankind."

Devan's ordeal isn't over. He still needs to go through weeks of chemotherapy and then a dangerous transplant and recovery period. "It's pretty tough as a parent to see our own child facing this road ahead," Tatlow says. "But this is a lifeline for us."

Summer Activities in the DC Area for Children

A quick post to point to a few interesting activities for children in the DC area.

• Registration is open for German language classes at the Goethe Institut. Info here.
• Acting for Young People's summer program is open for registration. Info here.
• The India International School's language, music and dance classes are continuing. Info here.
• Inf0rmation about children's summer programming at Wolf Trap is available here.

Update (June 15, 2010) - The German lessons at the Goethe Institut are targeted at adults, not children. Thanks.

A 4-year-old needs a bone marrow transplant; the situation is dire

I'm copying here a note circulated by Bloomberg on behalf of their colleague. If you have never registered with the Bone Marrow Registry, please consider doing it. It's a very simple process. This story puts a face to all those people that are waiting for a match. Due to his family ancestry (1/4 South Indian, 3/4 European) Devan's potential match could come from someone who is of mixed Asian and European descent.

Our colleague Indira's only child, Devan, needs your help. He’s four and has relapsed with a rare form of high-risk leukemia. His doctors believe his life depends on a bone marrow transplant that they hope to do after 12 weeks of chemotherapy.

What is difficult is finding a donor match – 1 in 200,000 in his case, we've been told - and we haven't found one yet. You or someone you know might be the person who can save Devan’s life. All you need to do is a simple cheek swab to find out. The organizations below will send you a kit. Donating is easy – these days it’s much like a simple blood draw.

1.PLEASE, REGISTER NOW. The test is easy & free, but processing takes time (10 weeks in the UK), and Devan doesn’t have much. Register below.

2.PLEASE FORWARD THIS ON TO OTHERS. Anyone can be a match, but those who are mixed Indian/Caucasian have an even better chance of helping Devan. Please, please, cut and paste this message to strip out email addresses and forward this to everyone you can. By forwarding this email to at least 10 people now, we can spread the word to 50,000 possible donors within 48 hours.

3. VISIT DEVAN’S SITE - www.matchdevan.com - we will be including details on how to organize your own drive, valuable information on leukemia and FAQ’s on registering and donation.

WHERE TO REGISTER

=> In the US go to Be The Match Bone Marrow Registry, http://www.marrow.org/JOIN/Join_Now/join_now.html (you need to
be 60 or under)
=> In the UK go to the Anthony Nolan Trust, http://bit.ly/cpkxuy
(you’ll need to be 40 or under)
=> In other countries go to Bone Marrow Donors Worldwide, http://bmdw.org/
index.php?id=addresses_members&no_cache=1 Finally, if you’re pregnant, your
cord blood is particularly valuable for helping children like Devan - please
look here to learn more: http://parentsguidecordblood.org/content/usa/banklists/publicbanks_new.shtml?navid=15

Thank you so much for helping.

Update: June 3, 2010