Culture

Education has long been preached as a way to keep kids away from drugs. It's the walk to school that has Supt. Tom Barnett worried. This hardscrabble Northern California town has become a hotbed for medical marijuana farming. Kids stroll much of the year past pungent plants flourishing in gardens and alleys. The red-and-black-clad Timberjacks football team moved its halftime huddle on a recent Friday night to avoid the odor of marijuana smoke wafting over the gridiron from nearby houses.

'Banjo Fred" Starner, an economics professor and banjo-playing folk singer who documented hobo music and culture, has died. He was 72. Starner, of Winnetka, died Oct. 25 at a West Hills rehabilitation facility of complications from pneumonia and the autoimmune disorder sarcoidosis, said his wife, Barbara. "Fred Starner was very much a musician of the people, taking his cue from his mentor, Pete Seeger," said Mary Katherine Aldin, a folk music historian. "A great percentage of his concerts were benefits for causes in which he believed.

Historians Robert Dallek and Sean Wilentz and author-essayist Barbara Ehrenreich are among the more than 100 writers who have signed an open letter asking the Washington Post not to shut down its stand-alone Sunday Book World section. "Few forums besides Book World introduce so many readers to so many important new works of literature and thought each week," the letter reads. "As part of one of our most venerated papers, it carries prestige and influence. It enriches our culture with its thoughtful criticism."

Karima Yousafzai jumps behind the wheel of her 1994 Toyota Corolla and heads into traffic, deftly negotiating around wannabe motocross champions, oblivious pushcart peddlers, a roadside herd of sheep and several contenders for the crazy-driver-of-the-year award. She takes little notice of the looks directed her way. "I've stopped caring about the stares men give you," the 43-year-old university professor says. "I just ignore them." A female driver in Afghanistan is something of a rare bird.

Thank you for the great article and excellent job in recognizing Pili Montilla. ["Planet Spanglish," Oct. 4] One of the wonderful things about living in Los Angeles is the fusion of our many cultures. Pili's beautiful and passionate personality is so refreshing in today's stale stereotypes traditionally portrayed in the media. We are very lucky to have her all the way from the other side of the country. Now only if there was a good Puerto Rican restaurant near me, then L.A. would be perfect.

Xie Lihua's parents wanted a boy. But on the day Xie was born in a poor village in rural Shandong province, her mother learned she had given birth to a second daughter. She wept in anger. And she slapped her new baby. "Another girl!" she cried. The year was 1951. Girls were considered a worthless commodity in an agrarian society that relied upon the strength of young men to flourish. Xie grew up knowing her place -- as a handmaiden to her younger brother.

Foreign banks trying to gain a foothold in booming Vietnam face a tough cultural barrier: Most people don't use banks, and many don't trust them. Instead, they stash their money at home and rely on informal lending networks of family and friends for loans. "Banks require too much paperwork, and the charges are too high," said Cao Thi Dong, 40, a housekeeper. "If I borrow from people I know, I can get a much better interest rate."

Squeezed into segregated public buses with scant seats reserved for women, schoolteacher Suneela Mohsin thinks of Benazir Bhutto. She thinks of the slain leader when she walks crowded streets, forbidden to talk to strange men in public or even make eye contact in this society dominated by men. "Our culture offers women very little public space," she said, wearing a deep maroon dupatta, the traditional shawl-like covering, around her head and body. "Benazir was our last hope of change.

People in this town know the man with the stooped, halting walk and the burning eyes. They point out his house, and they talk about "what he did" and about how they admire "what he did" and wonder if they too would have the strength to do "what he did."

It isn't easy being a kosher food inspector in the land of moo shu pork. No matter how hard you try. "Once, they got me into a restaurant and they ordered a whole plate of food and put it in front of me," recalls Rabbi Martin Grunberg, who has the unusual task of ensuring that Chinese factories that make food for export comply with ancient Jewish dietary laws. "They were putting me to the test because they really don't understand why I can't eat Chinese cuisine."