One Big Damn Puzzler

It's the name of one of my absolute favorite novels - everybody should go to amazon.com now and buy a copy of One Big Damn Puzzler.  Do it.  NOW.

OK, now that you've bought it, and hopefully read the wonderfully funny, moving, and thought-provoking tale of cross-cultural experiences that makes one wonder about the nature of charity, justice, and civilization, we can take up that conversation.  Oh, wait, you just now ordered the book and it didn't instantly download into your brain?  Well, crap.

Ridiculousness aside, the book addresses just those themes, with the central question that lingers for me being perhaps one of incredible importance - what does it mean to be committed to justice in a cross-cultural context?  How do I, as a white U.S. American, authentically stand in solidarity with others in the world who have been wronged by the U.S. government or U.S. economic interests when those very people who have been wronged hold to a different idea of justice?  What if my idea of justice in fact poses a greater threat to their well-being than the initial injustice did?

In the novel, the people of the island have been victims of atrocities from a now-defunct U.S. military base - most notably, a rape and dozens of injuries from land mines.  A do-gooder lawyer from the U.S. comes to seek redress for the islanders, but he doesn't get that providing financial reparation for a society that uses yams as their de facto currency is likely to cause more harm than good...and it does.  The artificial limbs formerly used to replace mine-shattered legs are, by the end of the book, used to replace amputated limbs of the island's many diabetics, as the influx of cash and goods from the U.S. (like Coca-Cola and junk food) destroys the formerly healthy way of life on the island.

In its heart-breakingly funny way, the book is a cautionary tale for all of us who proudly bear the label liberal or progressive in this world, and who care about issues of international justice.  When working for justice, make sure the cure isn't worse than the disease itself - stand in solidarity, be a voice...but dear God, keep your eyes open and listen to the people.  There's no solidarity without authentic dialogue, and without solidarity, there's no justice.