Rewind a week:
Friday: school dinner, guitar serenades and dancing in the closet sized King and Queen bar...accidentaly bought a beer with hot sauce in it. wasn´t a fan. they replaced it with a strawberry drink and the waiter said he´d drink the beer. welcome to guatemala.
Saturday: climbed mount Baul. picnic-ed together as a school and watched a big slide ease the cares of the world. climbed down -off the path- and picked up some bug bites. welcome to guatemala.
Sunday: sleep!
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday: sick-os. doctor visit, pharmacy, bed, rest. oh, and RAIN!!! welcome to guatemala.
Thursday: hot springs....rode through the clouds up to a place close to heaven. definitely was a fan. ahhh yes....guatemala.
It hasn´t been a cush vacation, but as always life in guatemala is good.
As for the last few days? not sure...probably more rain, hopefully no more sickness, and definitely more fun!
Friday, June 05, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Crowded streets and Latin Beats
Even though I feel as in a fog as I´m recovering from a sudden onset of the Traveler´s sickness (look at me--I´m so PC!), my experiences so far in Xela have been just what I imagined.
It´s a great thing to return to a place you know. Coming to town, I knew how to get to our hostel, how to direct other travelers to their destinations, where would be the best place to find licuados, and how to find the other salsa club when the first one gets boring. I like knowing Xela, for the most part, and that she welcomes me with her scents and crowded sidewalks and familiar street corners and Xelapan and cars thumping Bachata...
It has been difficult to return and not expect everything to be the same as I left it. I walk into the cafe or the coffeehouse and I expect to see people from last year there. I look for the familiar faces on the street. And I miss the routine I had when here. That said, though, I also love that this is different. I´m with great friends now, we´re at a new school which so far has been great, we´re staying in a new place, so I get to see now a new face to Xela.
I am fully here, and what a great experience so far, despite the extremely premature sickness. However, when you travel or take an adventure with friends, there are the possibilities of a theme song arising. This is not something you can direct; it just falls into place. What, to our regret, seems to be coming up as that so far is that song by Doughtry ¨I´m coming home¨ or whatever...it´s so cheesy and I don´t want to remember this trip by that song, but there´s a sense of humor there. While I feel a little as íf I´m coming home to Xela, I also know that going home to Aberdeen will perhaps feel a little more like the place where I belong.
Sidenote: I just realized that what I thought were typed as apostrophes are actually tildes. I had a lesson on tildes today and my teacher --an elderly man named Nery-- drew a large version of a tilde for me. Not sure why...but I think that´s pretty cool.
It´s a great thing to return to a place you know. Coming to town, I knew how to get to our hostel, how to direct other travelers to their destinations, where would be the best place to find licuados, and how to find the other salsa club when the first one gets boring. I like knowing Xela, for the most part, and that she welcomes me with her scents and crowded sidewalks and familiar street corners and Xelapan and cars thumping Bachata...
It has been difficult to return and not expect everything to be the same as I left it. I walk into the cafe or the coffeehouse and I expect to see people from last year there. I look for the familiar faces on the street. And I miss the routine I had when here. That said, though, I also love that this is different. I´m with great friends now, we´re at a new school which so far has been great, we´re staying in a new place, so I get to see now a new face to Xela.
I am fully here, and what a great experience so far, despite the extremely premature sickness. However, when you travel or take an adventure with friends, there are the possibilities of a theme song arising. This is not something you can direct; it just falls into place. What, to our regret, seems to be coming up as that so far is that song by Doughtry ¨I´m coming home¨ or whatever...it´s so cheesy and I don´t want to remember this trip by that song, but there´s a sense of humor there. While I feel a little as íf I´m coming home to Xela, I also know that going home to Aberdeen will perhaps feel a little more like the place where I belong.
Sidenote: I just realized that what I thought were typed as apostrophes are actually tildes. I had a lesson on tildes today and my teacher --an elderly man named Nery-- drew a large version of a tilde for me. Not sure why...but I think that´s pretty cool.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Words inspire me.
I discovered today that I want so badly to inspire and be inspired. This inspired me tonight: (from a poem by Hafiz)
Love wants to reach out and manhandle us,
Break all our teacup talk of God.
If you had the courage and
Could give the Beloved His choice, some nights,
He would just drag you around the room
By your hair,
Ripping from your grip all those toys in the world
That bring you no joy.
Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly
And wants to rip to shreds
All your erroneous notions of truth
That make you fight within yourself, dear one,
And with others,
Causing the world to weep
On too many fine days.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Everything changes....
Walking out of the coffeehouse this afternoon, I thought I saw someone across the street that I haven't seen in a long time. I was never close with this person--he was a doctor I saw a long time ago--but seeing him brought back memories and the state of mind I was in when I went to him. Immediately I wondered what kind of advice he was giving patients these days...assuming that it is different from what he gave back when I saw him. I wondered if he had many new discoveries and how they were affecting his practice.
Personal evolution is so fascinating to me. I was talking with friends today about how everything changes. Even if we think we're doing the same things everyday-- going to work, making dinner, cleaning the house, going to bed, etc.-- really, every day and every moment is new and different. And on top of that, this person who is doing these things (ourselves) is different from the one who did it yesterday or a year ago. We all change and evolve in our personality, beliefs, skills, ideas, etc.
It's so interesting to see how people have evolved or changed since we last saw them. That's one of the joys of connecting with old friends--the idea that "I know I have changed since I saw this person....I wonder how they have changed as well? What new points can we connect on now? What different ideas and changes and decisions have we made?" We can discover people anew all the time. Even those we see everyday have the opportunity to be a "new" person each day...what new things will I discover about my close friends and family that defy the boundaries they live in within my head? How is their growth/change similar and different from my own?
Way cool. Anyway, all this from the curiousity about what my old doctor thinks about supplements. Hmm.
Personal evolution is so fascinating to me. I was talking with friends today about how everything changes. Even if we think we're doing the same things everyday-- going to work, making dinner, cleaning the house, going to bed, etc.-- really, every day and every moment is new and different. And on top of that, this person who is doing these things (ourselves) is different from the one who did it yesterday or a year ago. We all change and evolve in our personality, beliefs, skills, ideas, etc.
It's so interesting to see how people have evolved or changed since we last saw them. That's one of the joys of connecting with old friends--the idea that "I know I have changed since I saw this person....I wonder how they have changed as well? What new points can we connect on now? What different ideas and changes and decisions have we made?" We can discover people anew all the time. Even those we see everyday have the opportunity to be a "new" person each day...what new things will I discover about my close friends and family that defy the boundaries they live in within my head? How is their growth/change similar and different from my own?
Way cool. Anyway, all this from the curiousity about what my old doctor thinks about supplements. Hmm.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Dreams of hovering...?
I had a crazy dream that I have to write down:
I was interested in learning more about a record company that put out new age/chill/lounge music. I found out that the owner of the record company would go out to the middle of a lake or body of water and sit on top of the water or hover on top of it to listen to the music and make his decisions.
I wanted to spend more time with the company to learn more and I found out that a group of people who worked in the company all shared the same belief: that everything a professor at NSU said was correct and possible. This professor said (in the dream, not in real life) that everyone has the ability to fly/hover/levitate, but people haven't done it for so long because they don't think they can. But the people at this record company believed it and could.
There were four people who had these abilities: 2 people would hover or levitate above the ground with their heads lower than their feet--they were called hoverers. The other 2 people would stand next to the hoverers and hold their palms near the feet of the hoverers to give them energy--these people were called holders. They did these things when they were brainstorming and planning because it gave them new ideas/creativity/etc. There were other people at the company who knew about this but didn't hover or hold.
Well, eventually the hoverers and holders realized that the others at the company had the same abilities but never knew they had them or believed that they could use them. So the hoverers and holders decided to name/appoint the people who had these abilities as a way to pass the baton and help them realize their potential. As they began to name the new hoverers and holders, the previous hoverers and holders would fall down and suddenly become very old and weak when just a minute before they had been young and strong. As the last of the hoverers and holders were named, I fell down too and suddenly became very old and weak. I was surprised at first but then I realized that I had memories of being a holder.
Those of us who HAD been hoverers and holders decided to crawl to another room where we saw old women doing yoga. We decided to join them as we thought it might give us some of our energy and strength back.
At this point in my dream, I woke up (though I was still actually dreaming). I was in the room with the people doing yoga, but the whole hoverers/holders thing was the dream. I was trying to tell the people I was with about it, but one person kept cutting me off, so I began to try to talk over him instead of ask him to stop talking. It didn't really work and I felt like I had an important story to tell and no one was listening.
The end.
WEIRD!
I was interested in learning more about a record company that put out new age/chill/lounge music. I found out that the owner of the record company would go out to the middle of a lake or body of water and sit on top of the water or hover on top of it to listen to the music and make his decisions.
I wanted to spend more time with the company to learn more and I found out that a group of people who worked in the company all shared the same belief: that everything a professor at NSU said was correct and possible. This professor said (in the dream, not in real life) that everyone has the ability to fly/hover/levitate, but people haven't done it for so long because they don't think they can. But the people at this record company believed it and could.
There were four people who had these abilities: 2 people would hover or levitate above the ground with their heads lower than their feet--they were called hoverers. The other 2 people would stand next to the hoverers and hold their palms near the feet of the hoverers to give them energy--these people were called holders. They did these things when they were brainstorming and planning because it gave them new ideas/creativity/etc. There were other people at the company who knew about this but didn't hover or hold.
Well, eventually the hoverers and holders realized that the others at the company had the same abilities but never knew they had them or believed that they could use them. So the hoverers and holders decided to name/appoint the people who had these abilities as a way to pass the baton and help them realize their potential. As they began to name the new hoverers and holders, the previous hoverers and holders would fall down and suddenly become very old and weak when just a minute before they had been young and strong. As the last of the hoverers and holders were named, I fell down too and suddenly became very old and weak. I was surprised at first but then I realized that I had memories of being a holder.
Those of us who HAD been hoverers and holders decided to crawl to another room where we saw old women doing yoga. We decided to join them as we thought it might give us some of our energy and strength back.
At this point in my dream, I woke up (though I was still actually dreaming). I was in the room with the people doing yoga, but the whole hoverers/holders thing was the dream. I was trying to tell the people I was with about it, but one person kept cutting me off, so I began to try to talk over him instead of ask him to stop talking. It didn't really work and I felt like I had an important story to tell and no one was listening.
The end.
WEIRD!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Humanidejacarnation
Apart from the whole idea of reincarnation, which I know little about, sometimes I think it's possible to remember someone before you meet them. Or to remember an event, as if it's occurrence rings a bell somewhere in our humanity. Maybe that's somehow connected to dejavu...or maybe it's a way to subconsciously make comfortable a new situation. Or maybe it is an example of how we are all connected as living beings.
Anyway, I'm not sure how to explain it, and what my mind is thinking is different from what will come out in writing (as expressed interestingly in this controversial article: http://www.good.is/?p=8133). Despite all that, it's been on my mind so I wrote a song about it.
V: Across vast oceans and trembling seas
There's a sky of memories and dreams
What I thought gone now arrives anew
And though we've just met, I remember you.
C: Look up, I am there
In that sky, and in this air
Give me your hand, and burdens to bear
'cause I remember you.
So, it's only a short bit. I don't like rhyming, but for the melody I suppose it works. Anyway, it's a work in progress, but I figured I'd share, since one of my latest attempts is "to share what i might otherwise hoard." So I'm sharing my humani-deja-carnation idea. Es possible? Thoughts?
I'm not really talking about a psychic thing where one knows what's going to happen when in these situations, but this feeling that one gets when they witness something amazing and something resonates with them as if it is familiar, though it is brand new. Maybe it's the brand-newness that's familiar, or maybe it's the feeling of excitement...I'm not sure.
What do you think?
Anyway, I'm not sure how to explain it, and what my mind is thinking is different from what will come out in writing (as expressed interestingly in this controversial article: http://www.good.is/?p=8133). Despite all that, it's been on my mind so I wrote a song about it.
V: Across vast oceans and trembling seas
There's a sky of memories and dreams
What I thought gone now arrives anew
And though we've just met, I remember you.
C: Look up, I am there
In that sky, and in this air
Give me your hand, and burdens to bear
'cause I remember you.
So, it's only a short bit. I don't like rhyming, but for the melody I suppose it works. Anyway, it's a work in progress, but I figured I'd share, since one of my latest attempts is "to share what i might otherwise hoard." So I'm sharing my humani-deja-carnation idea. Es possible? Thoughts?
I'm not really talking about a psychic thing where one knows what's going to happen when in these situations, but this feeling that one gets when they witness something amazing and something resonates with them as if it is familiar, though it is brand new. Maybe it's the brand-newness that's familiar, or maybe it's the feeling of excitement...I'm not sure.
What do you think?
Saturday, January 31, 2009
la luz del sol
"Waking up without you is like drinking from an empty cup." --Damien Rice
I spent the last twenty four hours outside of Aberdeen, and while I cannot recount all that happened in that time -- there simply is not time, and no one wants to read all the details which would seem overly mundane to anyone else -- what I can say is that rarely have I appreciated Aberdeen more than this night.
There are times in life when you just know something to be true. You feel it in the form of a content solemnity or a quiet trust. You recognize it by the way it causes you to want to both cry and rejoice, and you may do a little of each or even nothing at all. It waits for you, and it always knows that you will find it in its gentle sunshine.
As I drove back into the city, with the companionship of a kindred spirit, I recognized a place I truly love. I love Aberdeen. I love its dirty water and run down buildings. I love its history and the possibilities. I love it's people. I love that it has welcomed me. I love that I know its shortcuts and that there are still streets I've never been on. I love that it has a heartbeat, and though we may not always realize it, that pulse carries a lot of good, loving, healing life to its own bodily needs through its own people.
Though the sun had passed the horizon and was then lighting a new morning around the globe as I entered from the east, I somehow drove into that gentle sunbeam, where no matter what, I know that I truly love living in Aberdeen.
I spent the last twenty four hours outside of Aberdeen, and while I cannot recount all that happened in that time -- there simply is not time, and no one wants to read all the details which would seem overly mundane to anyone else -- what I can say is that rarely have I appreciated Aberdeen more than this night.
There are times in life when you just know something to be true. You feel it in the form of a content solemnity or a quiet trust. You recognize it by the way it causes you to want to both cry and rejoice, and you may do a little of each or even nothing at all. It waits for you, and it always knows that you will find it in its gentle sunshine.
As I drove back into the city, with the companionship of a kindred spirit, I recognized a place I truly love. I love Aberdeen. I love its dirty water and run down buildings. I love its history and the possibilities. I love it's people. I love that it has welcomed me. I love that I know its shortcuts and that there are still streets I've never been on. I love that it has a heartbeat, and though we may not always realize it, that pulse carries a lot of good, loving, healing life to its own bodily needs through its own people.
Though the sun had passed the horizon and was then lighting a new morning around the globe as I entered from the east, I somehow drove into that gentle sunbeam, where no matter what, I know that I truly love living in Aberdeen.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Wise words that I didn't think up. haha.
Be here now.
Want what you have.
Expect meaning and possibility and success versus failure and emptyness.
Embrace what we might otherwise avoid; share what we might otherwise hoard.
Speak words of love and forgiveness and acceptance to yourself as you would to your best friend.
Fake it until you make it when it comes to your mood and attitude.
Want what you have.
Expect meaning and possibility and success versus failure and emptyness.
Embrace what we might otherwise avoid; share what we might otherwise hoard.
Speak words of love and forgiveness and acceptance to yourself as you would to your best friend.
Fake it until you make it when it comes to your mood and attitude.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Reflecting on 2008
I've been thinking a lot recently about 2008 and all it has been. Wow. Personally, financially, politically, etc....it's been an interesting 361 days so far...woah!
I often would like to make a bigger deal out of the passing of a year, but I rarely do. I feel that New Year's Eve is an important night, but mostly because it's a fun night to party with friends and family. But deep down there is a deeper significance for me...I can't help but want to take time to reflect on the past year in order to better appreciate and learn from 2008.
So, I've been spending a little time doing just that. I've been thinking and writing and remembering just how amazing this past year has been. ...and the process has been sweet. Though I have regrets, as we all do, the things that stand out to me are the blessings. Every moment, every day is an experience to be cherished and I can't say how thankful I am for every moment and points of learning I've had this year. And what's better? It doesn't cost me anything to maintain them...no one can steal them from me....and thanks to imagination, I can go back to those moments whenever I please! wow....
Ok, I tend to get a tad cheesy about this stuff....but I don't care. 2008 has been a year of learning for me, and I'd like to carry the lessons of "living in the moment" and "don't hold back appreciation" into the new year. Maybe soon I'll make a more comprehensive list of some of the lessons of 2008 for further written reflection.
Anyway, I'm glad to be making more of a process out of this transition into the New Year. I want to be mindful and intentional about this next year....and perhaps this is a good method for me.
I often would like to make a bigger deal out of the passing of a year, but I rarely do. I feel that New Year's Eve is an important night, but mostly because it's a fun night to party with friends and family. But deep down there is a deeper significance for me...I can't help but want to take time to reflect on the past year in order to better appreciate and learn from 2008.
So, I've been spending a little time doing just that. I've been thinking and writing and remembering just how amazing this past year has been. ...and the process has been sweet. Though I have regrets, as we all do, the things that stand out to me are the blessings. Every moment, every day is an experience to be cherished and I can't say how thankful I am for every moment and points of learning I've had this year. And what's better? It doesn't cost me anything to maintain them...no one can steal them from me....and thanks to imagination, I can go back to those moments whenever I please! wow....
Ok, I tend to get a tad cheesy about this stuff....but I don't care. 2008 has been a year of learning for me, and I'd like to carry the lessons of "living in the moment" and "don't hold back appreciation" into the new year. Maybe soon I'll make a more comprehensive list of some of the lessons of 2008 for further written reflection.
Anyway, I'm glad to be making more of a process out of this transition into the New Year. I want to be mindful and intentional about this next year....and perhaps this is a good method for me.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Hi, my new name is Joy. What's your name?
"I came here with a load, but I feel so much lighter since I met you."
I love Coldplay. They definitely make the list of bands whose songs bring me to the deeper end of my thoughts.
It's been awhile since my last post. It's been a dark autumn. I've been walking a rocky road of health, emotions, and work, but I feel as though the path is becoming a bit smoother.
I'm working on experiencing/appreciating/looking for joy in my life, especially this week. It's been going well. I'm finding joy again in places I thought were empty of it, and that's encouraging.
Maybe I will write more of this adventure soon. Joy is always a good subject to write about, especially with all of the published topics which are filled with the opposite of joy, and of course it will help me in my attempt to use words to build up and not to tear down.
I love Coldplay. They definitely make the list of bands whose songs bring me to the deeper end of my thoughts.
It's been awhile since my last post. It's been a dark autumn. I've been walking a rocky road of health, emotions, and work, but I feel as though the path is becoming a bit smoother.
I'm working on experiencing/appreciating/looking for joy in my life, especially this week. It's been going well. I'm finding joy again in places I thought were empty of it, and that's encouraging.
Maybe I will write more of this adventure soon. Joy is always a good subject to write about, especially with all of the published topics which are filled with the opposite of joy, and of course it will help me in my attempt to use words to build up and not to tear down.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
old poem
I think I wrote this sometime in December 2007....
Find me here
in the still violence of winter--
in the deafening night, find me.
Look for me
in the clouds of chaos--
in the madness of your mind, find me.
Seek me,
in the hands of my enemies--
in the shelter of the prison, find me.
Find me here
in the still violence of winter--
in the deafening night, find me.
Look for me
in the clouds of chaos--
in the madness of your mind, find me.
Seek me,
in the hands of my enemies--
in the shelter of the prison, find me.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
buddha board
We have this thing at our house called a Buddha Board. It's pretty cool, really. Here's how it works: Take the paintbrush, dip it in water and paint a picture on the board. The board magically turns black with the water. But don't get too attached--as the water on the board dries, the painted image disappears!
The theory behind this, according to the printed materials that came with the board, is to practice mindfulness. Learn to let go. Appreciate what you've created and then allow it to dissolve into oblivion.
I like this theory. I like to use the Buddha Board to just paint whatever comes out with minimal editing. Then I like to look at the image for awhile, to absorb it rather than critique it, though that can be quite difficult sometimes. It's nice to be able to create something, appreciate it for what it is, and then to acknowledge that I will never see it again.
But! That was not the lesson from the Buddha Board tonight. Tonight as I was painting, I decided to try an experiment. I noticed some of the water dripping down the board. So I added a streak of water at the top to watch where it ran. It reminded me slightly of rain on a car window.
I remember on family car rides watching the rain drop patterns on the car windows. It seemed that the new drops of rain always followed the easiest path--the one that had already been created by previous rain drops. It was the same with the water on the Buddha Board. I found myself trying to add more water to "uncarved" areas, but most of the time the drops found their way to a carved path. However, those that did manage to forge a new path ended up changing the picture quite significantly.
Tonight, what was meant to be a painting acted as a mirror. I too would most of the time rather slide down a path that has already been smoothed out for me. It can be very difficult to go into new territory and deal with the friction that we inevitably find there. But, I realize, sometimes when I don't follow exactly what is expected or "planned" for me by myself or others, the result can be just as interesting, if not more so, than the picture already painted.
Sometimes it is nice to slide though.
The theory behind this, according to the printed materials that came with the board, is to practice mindfulness. Learn to let go. Appreciate what you've created and then allow it to dissolve into oblivion.
I like this theory. I like to use the Buddha Board to just paint whatever comes out with minimal editing. Then I like to look at the image for awhile, to absorb it rather than critique it, though that can be quite difficult sometimes. It's nice to be able to create something, appreciate it for what it is, and then to acknowledge that I will never see it again.
But! That was not the lesson from the Buddha Board tonight. Tonight as I was painting, I decided to try an experiment. I noticed some of the water dripping down the board. So I added a streak of water at the top to watch where it ran. It reminded me slightly of rain on a car window.
I remember on family car rides watching the rain drop patterns on the car windows. It seemed that the new drops of rain always followed the easiest path--the one that had already been created by previous rain drops. It was the same with the water on the Buddha Board. I found myself trying to add more water to "uncarved" areas, but most of the time the drops found their way to a carved path. However, those that did manage to forge a new path ended up changing the picture quite significantly.
Tonight, what was meant to be a painting acted as a mirror. I too would most of the time rather slide down a path that has already been smoothed out for me. It can be very difficult to go into new territory and deal with the friction that we inevitably find there. But, I realize, sometimes when I don't follow exactly what is expected or "planned" for me by myself or others, the result can be just as interesting, if not more so, than the picture already painted.
Sometimes it is nice to slide though.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
a low hum. do you hear that?
I'm sitting here, drinking amazing Tulsi tea and listening to some of the most beautiful oboe music I have ever heard, and thinking about the evening.
Tonight, Aberdeen's beloved band Junebug came back for a CD release party. Fed by Doris and Blue Orange also made appearances, and everyone was there. As I was listening to these great bands and seeing people hang out with each other just like they have for so many years, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the beauty and "right-ness" of the night. These people have been friends, supported each other and shared coffee together for countless hours, and though there were new and old faces, it was like each one of us had always been there.
Later, I went for a walk. For some reason I just wanted to walk by myself. I found some visual treasures along the way but ended up finding a bench to sit on for a little while. At first, I was somewhat self-conscious as I didn't know what people would think of me just sitting on the bench by myself at night doing absolutely nothing. Everytime a car went by I would try to look normal--whatever that looks like. After awhile of this, I started to relize that no one noticed that I was there. It was only my mind creating this awkwardness, not looks of bewilderment from passersby. Then it became slightly funny to me. There I was sitting on a bench late in the evening by myself doing nothing...and I loved that no one knew that I was there!
As I sat there, I tried to pick out the noises that I heard and dissect them. Eventually it came down to a hum, and if you've ever done anything like that before, you know that a hum layered underneath everyday noises can be impressively loud once noticed. Usually if I think about it for awhile, I can figure out where it's coming from. However, tonight, the hum seemed to come from the city itself--not a building, not a machine, not a light post...just from the collective community.
I sat there listening and thinking about what was going on a few blocks away from me at the coffeehouse. I thought about the people meeting up there to listen to their friends play interesting music. I thought about what that place and those people represent to me and to each other and to Aberdeen. Perhaps most of us who go there often and who are affected by and thankful for the coffeehouse don't think of it everyday or appreciate it blatantly. Perhaps it is because what has been created there is like the low-layered hum of the community--in our everyday lives we don't realize how impressive and impacting it is until we stop to to peel away the layers and pay attention to it. It's there, sitting on the bench in the dark, even if we don't always pause to look for it.
Tonight, Aberdeen's beloved band Junebug came back for a CD release party. Fed by Doris and Blue Orange also made appearances, and everyone was there. As I was listening to these great bands and seeing people hang out with each other just like they have for so many years, I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the beauty and "right-ness" of the night. These people have been friends, supported each other and shared coffee together for countless hours, and though there were new and old faces, it was like each one of us had always been there.
Later, I went for a walk. For some reason I just wanted to walk by myself. I found some visual treasures along the way but ended up finding a bench to sit on for a little while. At first, I was somewhat self-conscious as I didn't know what people would think of me just sitting on the bench by myself at night doing absolutely nothing. Everytime a car went by I would try to look normal--whatever that looks like. After awhile of this, I started to relize that no one noticed that I was there. It was only my mind creating this awkwardness, not looks of bewilderment from passersby. Then it became slightly funny to me. There I was sitting on a bench late in the evening by myself doing nothing...and I loved that no one knew that I was there!
As I sat there, I tried to pick out the noises that I heard and dissect them. Eventually it came down to a hum, and if you've ever done anything like that before, you know that a hum layered underneath everyday noises can be impressively loud once noticed. Usually if I think about it for awhile, I can figure out where it's coming from. However, tonight, the hum seemed to come from the city itself--not a building, not a machine, not a light post...just from the collective community.
I sat there listening and thinking about what was going on a few blocks away from me at the coffeehouse. I thought about the people meeting up there to listen to their friends play interesting music. I thought about what that place and those people represent to me and to each other and to Aberdeen. Perhaps most of us who go there often and who are affected by and thankful for the coffeehouse don't think of it everyday or appreciate it blatantly. Perhaps it is because what has been created there is like the low-layered hum of the community--in our everyday lives we don't realize how impressive and impacting it is until we stop to to peel away the layers and pay attention to it. It's there, sitting on the bench in the dark, even if we don't always pause to look for it.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
In-betweener
What's a word for the idea of being on the verge?
I'm reading the book Eat, Pray, Love right now. It's really a great book, and I can identify so much with the author on many levels. In her book, she travels to Italy --to learn how to enjoy life, India--to learn how to be devoted and to seek God, and to Indonesia--to learn how to balance those two aspects of life.
At one point, she is searching for what is her word-- one word that represents her. As I was reading it, I was thinking about how in many ways her word fits me. It might not be MY word, per se, but it's interesting for me to think about The word is antevasin which means, "one who lives at the border" in sanskrit:
"The antevasin was an in-betweener. He was a border-dweller. He lived in sight of both worlds, but he looked toward the unknown. And he was a scholar."
Later the author says... "You can still live on that shimmering line between your old thinking and your new understanding, always in a state of learning. In the figurative sense, this is a border that is always moving--as you advance forward in your studies and realizations, that mysterious forest of the unknown always stays a few feet ahead of you."
And again later, she talks about all the roles she's pursued and wondered if she fit into: traveler, wife, artist, student, etc. She concludes: "I'm not any of these things, at least not completely. ...I'm just a slippery antevasin--betwixt and between--a student on the ever-shifting border near the wonderful, scary forest of the new."
So much of my mental energy has been spent on trying to figure out my roles and routines and how I fit into categories. But I'm loving the realization that I am all of those things and I'm not. The author puts this idea well later too: "Imagine cramming yourself into such a puny box of identity when you could experience your infinitude instead."
Identity is important. And I suppose we do need labels from time to time because that is often how our minds work. We like to classify in order to better understand. But it is great to think that we are infinite souls, and what we experience in this life is only a portion of who we are and what we experience as a whole.
For me, that's a comforting thought when I don't understand myself or can't put into words how I feel.
So, in other words, I often feel that I am "on the verge." I'm not sure what verge--I don't know what lies ahead or even exactly what lies behind. It's mysterious forest. It's a cliff in the midst of fog. And even though I can't pinpoint exactly where I am or where I'm going, I know that this specific moment is not all there is to my life and experience at this very moment.
And somehow that is comforting and unnerving at the same time.
I'm reading the book Eat, Pray, Love right now. It's really a great book, and I can identify so much with the author on many levels. In her book, she travels to Italy --to learn how to enjoy life, India--to learn how to be devoted and to seek God, and to Indonesia--to learn how to balance those two aspects of life.
At one point, she is searching for what is her word-- one word that represents her. As I was reading it, I was thinking about how in many ways her word fits me. It might not be MY word, per se, but it's interesting for me to think about The word is antevasin which means, "one who lives at the border" in sanskrit:
"The antevasin was an in-betweener. He was a border-dweller. He lived in sight of both worlds, but he looked toward the unknown. And he was a scholar."
Later the author says... "You can still live on that shimmering line between your old thinking and your new understanding, always in a state of learning. In the figurative sense, this is a border that is always moving--as you advance forward in your studies and realizations, that mysterious forest of the unknown always stays a few feet ahead of you."
And again later, she talks about all the roles she's pursued and wondered if she fit into: traveler, wife, artist, student, etc. She concludes: "I'm not any of these things, at least not completely. ...I'm just a slippery antevasin--betwixt and between--a student on the ever-shifting border near the wonderful, scary forest of the new."
So much of my mental energy has been spent on trying to figure out my roles and routines and how I fit into categories. But I'm loving the realization that I am all of those things and I'm not. The author puts this idea well later too: "Imagine cramming yourself into such a puny box of identity when you could experience your infinitude instead."
Identity is important. And I suppose we do need labels from time to time because that is often how our minds work. We like to classify in order to better understand. But it is great to think that we are infinite souls, and what we experience in this life is only a portion of who we are and what we experience as a whole.
For me, that's a comforting thought when I don't understand myself or can't put into words how I feel.
So, in other words, I often feel that I am "on the verge." I'm not sure what verge--I don't know what lies ahead or even exactly what lies behind. It's mysterious forest. It's a cliff in the midst of fog. And even though I can't pinpoint exactly where I am or where I'm going, I know that this specific moment is not all there is to my life and experience at this very moment.
And somehow that is comforting and unnerving at the same time.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Lessons learned
Round one of lessons learned on my Guatemalan adventure:
*i learned to be more assertive and laid back, both of which can be good and bad at times.
*i learned to be more independent.
*i learned that i am not what i say, what i do, my past, etc...that there is much more to who i am than only those small defining things, and that's good.
*i learned to seek more experiences and enjoy each experience for what it is.
*i learned that people are always much more interesting than they appear and finding out why is more important than many of my daily activities.
Now, the fun part is seeing how these things apply in my daily life here.
*i learned to be more assertive and laid back, both of which can be good and bad at times.
*i learned to be more independent.
*i learned that i am not what i say, what i do, my past, etc...that there is much more to who i am than only those small defining things, and that's good.
*i learned to seek more experiences and enjoy each experience for what it is.
*i learned that people are always much more interesting than they appear and finding out why is more important than many of my daily activities.
Now, the fun part is seeing how these things apply in my daily life here.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
the wise words of Kahlil Gibran
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
--Kahlil Gibran
I'm about a week away from Xela and my experiences there. I write that with a sadness that sits in the back of my heart. It doesn't overwhelm me, and I am thankful for that, but it does remain a constant presence. However, sadness has a companion: Joy. Kahlil Gibran puts it well.
I rode away from the city through the mountains at eye level with the clouds. We said our goodbyes, and I found it fitting that my cloudy view matched my cloudy thoughts and emotions. How is it possible to want so badly to be able to be in two places at once?
Since returning, I've said that sometimes it feels like my time in Xela was just a dream--that it didn't really happen. Yet my life here feels like a dream as well. I'm a little curious as to what it will be like to really wake up.
I'm trying not to forget. I don't want to lose what I learned in Guatemala...the language, the way of life, the problems, the solutions, the observations, the experiences...I don't want to lose these things that have become a part of me. So I talk about them and relive them in my mind in the hope that what is clay will turn into concrete in my mind.
As I've said before, my adventures in Guatemala really helped me to appreciate even more my friends and family here. My love for them grew exponentially, and I didn't think that was at all possible since my heart had been overflowing even before I left. I'm beginning to see a similar process happening with Xela and those that I love there. Let me end, as I began, with another Kahlil Gibran quote:
When you part from your friend, you grieve not: For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
--Kahlil Gibran
I'm about a week away from Xela and my experiences there. I write that with a sadness that sits in the back of my heart. It doesn't overwhelm me, and I am thankful for that, but it does remain a constant presence. However, sadness has a companion: Joy. Kahlil Gibran puts it well.
I rode away from the city through the mountains at eye level with the clouds. We said our goodbyes, and I found it fitting that my cloudy view matched my cloudy thoughts and emotions. How is it possible to want so badly to be able to be in two places at once?
Since returning, I've said that sometimes it feels like my time in Xela was just a dream--that it didn't really happen. Yet my life here feels like a dream as well. I'm a little curious as to what it will be like to really wake up.
I'm trying not to forget. I don't want to lose what I learned in Guatemala...the language, the way of life, the problems, the solutions, the observations, the experiences...I don't want to lose these things that have become a part of me. So I talk about them and relive them in my mind in the hope that what is clay will turn into concrete in my mind.
As I've said before, my adventures in Guatemala really helped me to appreciate even more my friends and family here. My love for them grew exponentially, and I didn't think that was at all possible since my heart had been overflowing even before I left. I'm beginning to see a similar process happening with Xela and those that I love there. Let me end, as I began, with another Kahlil Gibran quote:
When you part from your friend, you grieve not: For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Good night, Xela!
All the friendly faces are there. From all around the world we gather at our temporary home at our hostel. We recount the day's events and determine who is cooking at home and who is going out to eat. Some do both. Again we negotiate the language of choice for the evening. Is the Escuela para los Gringos in session? Only until one of us remembers something too funny to risk misunderstanding in Spanish.
We gather in the kitchen, held there together by what we've named "air glue." Apparently, it is spread by laughter, making it quite difficult to leave the kitchen after only a short amount of time. We gather here like a family, learning to support each other and becoming genuinely interested in each others lives and activities over a shared bag of tostadas.
Slowly, we move our way out of the kitchen. Perhaps it is to do homework or run errands or to meet some friends out on the town. I grab my books and head down to my favorite coffeehouse.
First stop: El Cuartito. It's full, as usual, and I enjoy the hunt for a table. I meet some friends there and our studying turns into laughter about our spanish flubs and our odd experiences here. Second stop: La Fonda del Che. Emilio is playing again, and it's impossible to not love xela while listening to his music. The guatemaltecos sing along to every song, and it further secures my affection for them. Third stop: La Rumba. I just can't pass up the opportunity to salsa dance, no matter how tired I am from the day's travels. I see some new friends from salsa class, and they are gracious enough to help me learn some new steps. I am forever grateful that they actually take the time to talk with me and hang out despite the fact that my communication skills leave me with the personality of a doorknob. Perhaps they've learned to read the different meanings behind my smiles and nods.
It's late, and my homework still awaits, but the night was worth staying up late for. I head back to my "habitacion" and listen to the sounds of the city as I do my homework: the reggaeton parties down the street, the rain on the plastic roof, the cat wailing and hungry. Here I think about the day, the week, the weeks. I take these experiences, these gifts, and pack them up. They will always be with me, and I look forward to the unpacking process.
We gather in the kitchen, held there together by what we've named "air glue." Apparently, it is spread by laughter, making it quite difficult to leave the kitchen after only a short amount of time. We gather here like a family, learning to support each other and becoming genuinely interested in each others lives and activities over a shared bag of tostadas.
Slowly, we move our way out of the kitchen. Perhaps it is to do homework or run errands or to meet some friends out on the town. I grab my books and head down to my favorite coffeehouse.
First stop: El Cuartito. It's full, as usual, and I enjoy the hunt for a table. I meet some friends there and our studying turns into laughter about our spanish flubs and our odd experiences here. Second stop: La Fonda del Che. Emilio is playing again, and it's impossible to not love xela while listening to his music. The guatemaltecos sing along to every song, and it further secures my affection for them. Third stop: La Rumba. I just can't pass up the opportunity to salsa dance, no matter how tired I am from the day's travels. I see some new friends from salsa class, and they are gracious enough to help me learn some new steps. I am forever grateful that they actually take the time to talk with me and hang out despite the fact that my communication skills leave me with the personality of a doorknob. Perhaps they've learned to read the different meanings behind my smiles and nods.
It's late, and my homework still awaits, but the night was worth staying up late for. I head back to my "habitacion" and listen to the sounds of the city as I do my homework: the reggaeton parties down the street, the rain on the plastic roof, the cat wailing and hungry. Here I think about the day, the week, the weeks. I take these experiences, these gifts, and pack them up. They will always be with me, and I look forward to the unpacking process.
Monday, July 07, 2008
visual journey...
Un poquito mas fotos...
1. Someone spray painted the gallo symbol on a wall...and I love it!
2. Today, walking back from our teaching post at Telesecondaria, we saw this man overlooking the cemetary...I might remember this sight forever.
4. This little guy was sooo sleepy...probably because he's nocturnal.
1. Someone spray painted the gallo symbol on a wall...and I love it!
2. Today, walking back from our teaching post at Telesecondaria, we saw this man overlooking the cemetary...I might remember this sight forever.
3. This was taken in the more tropical/jungle area near the coast at a Mayan Ruins site. The rocks near the bottom are from aroun 900bc...used for a tunneling system. Pretty cool stuff, really!
4. This little guy was sooo sleepy...probably because he's nocturnal.
5. Walking in the park one day I saw this parade...I have no idea what it was for. I asked a little girl, but the only thing I understood from her response was that she wanted me to buy stickers.
6. At my last Comida Internacional on Friday, we had an american theme in honor of Independence Day. Appropriately, the grilled cheese sandwiches were made with "queso tipo americano" with the rippling flag in the background of the package.
7. Yesterday, as I was browsing the local market, I came across this. I'm not sure what to say about this...there was a band playing some nice salsa music, and then there were these people dressed up in crazy costumes doing some sort of dance to the music. It was by far the weirdest thing I have ever seen...if you look closely, you can see a clown, two blonde "women" and Saddam Hussein. If you see the connection between these masked figures, please let me know. Below is a video of the dance...
The video...
Sunday, July 06, 2008
communicacion...
Communication is so interesting. It's so hard to know sometimes what communication really is. We're given these words to work with when we're young...just these sounds that represent things so incompletely...one word, for example, to represent the complex notion of love...one group of letters to communicate confusion or fear or happiness. It's not fair, really... It reminds me of the line from another Over the Rhine song: "I have five senses, I need thousands more...at least." I feel that way with language...I need thousands more ways to express myself.
Tonight, I was at a coffeehouse with some friends and we were about to leave to go to a different cafe. One girl still had half of her drink left, so I told her I'd stay with her so she could finish her drink. She said no, that it was ok. I figured she was being polite and not wanting to make me wait, so I tried to insist. "No really...you have half of your drink left! I have no problem staying!" But she kept saying no...I was confused and wished she would have taken me at face value for what I was communicating instead of thinking that I really wanted to go but was only trying to be nice.
A few minutes later as we were leaving, I found out that before I had arrived, some guy had bought her that drink and was trying to use it as an excuse to talk to her in German though she speaks no German...it was a funny situation and she was happy to leave half of the drink there along with that guy. Had I known that, it would have changed our conversation greatly. Had I taken HER at face value when she said, "No, I don't need to finish the drink. We can go." instead of assuing that she was just being polite, how would the interaction have been different?
I realized after that conversation that it is difficult for me to take words at face value. I often assume that more is being communicated than what is expressed with words, for better or for worse. And one small word or change in voice tone can communicate so much more.
So, I'm working on this whole second language thing. My natural instinct is to translate the words from Spanish into English since I already have a language as a frame of reference. But I'm trying to connect the Spanish words with the concepts as best as I can in order to understand all the meanings that go along with that word that might not also be attached to the closest translation in English. It's a difficult process, but I love what it has revealed about both languages. For example: When I say, "Me encanta esta cancion" it basically means, "I love this song..." but a more specific translation of it would be: "this song enchants me" which paints a much richer picture in my mind of the same concept. Are the meaning and the translation the same thing? And what is the face value? In the example, which is more accurate: to love (an action that I take) or to be enchanted (an action that i receive)? Perhaps both are correct...but again, it pushes me to the point that words are incomplete...
At this point in the argument/debate/inner dialogue I get frustrated. I know that we have to use the confines of organized language in order to communicate, but I still hope for something better. I think we feel that about a lot of aspects of our lives...we have systems and relationships and languages and "rules"...but we will always wish for something more complete.
Tonight, I was at a coffeehouse with some friends and we were about to leave to go to a different cafe. One girl still had half of her drink left, so I told her I'd stay with her so she could finish her drink. She said no, that it was ok. I figured she was being polite and not wanting to make me wait, so I tried to insist. "No really...you have half of your drink left! I have no problem staying!" But she kept saying no...I was confused and wished she would have taken me at face value for what I was communicating instead of thinking that I really wanted to go but was only trying to be nice.
A few minutes later as we were leaving, I found out that before I had arrived, some guy had bought her that drink and was trying to use it as an excuse to talk to her in German though she speaks no German...it was a funny situation and she was happy to leave half of the drink there along with that guy. Had I known that, it would have changed our conversation greatly. Had I taken HER at face value when she said, "No, I don't need to finish the drink. We can go." instead of assuing that she was just being polite, how would the interaction have been different?
I realized after that conversation that it is difficult for me to take words at face value. I often assume that more is being communicated than what is expressed with words, for better or for worse. And one small word or change in voice tone can communicate so much more.
So, I'm working on this whole second language thing. My natural instinct is to translate the words from Spanish into English since I already have a language as a frame of reference. But I'm trying to connect the Spanish words with the concepts as best as I can in order to understand all the meanings that go along with that word that might not also be attached to the closest translation in English. It's a difficult process, but I love what it has revealed about both languages. For example: When I say, "Me encanta esta cancion" it basically means, "I love this song..." but a more specific translation of it would be: "this song enchants me" which paints a much richer picture in my mind of the same concept. Are the meaning and the translation the same thing? And what is the face value? In the example, which is more accurate: to love (an action that I take) or to be enchanted (an action that i receive)? Perhaps both are correct...but again, it pushes me to the point that words are incomplete...
At this point in the argument/debate/inner dialogue I get frustrated. I know that we have to use the confines of organized language in order to communicate, but I still hope for something better. I think we feel that about a lot of aspects of our lives...we have systems and relationships and languages and "rules"...but we will always wish for something more complete.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Good afternoon, Xela!
I'm not sure why, but I love it when people here call me Rosita. Somehow, the teachers seem to know lots of songs with Rosita, and everyday I appreciate their serenades.
But I can't stay long after class. I have limitied time to get down the hill, past the market and to a good place to eat before I need to come back to the market and up the hill for the afternoon's work. On my journey, I listen with newfound appreciation to Marc Anthony. I can't explain it; it's a Guatemalan mystery. My head is full as I try to think with new words. I formulate sentences to greet the sights that I missed on this morning's trek: buenas tardes (the papeleria boy), gracias por los regalos ayer (the local pan shop), su hijo es muy lindo (the family tienda lady), me recuerdes de Daisy (the tan dalmation.)
I make it to the Blue Angel with barely enough time to eat. Superman is flying around in the form of a 3 year old. I try to talk to him, but he will only respond with scowls and grunts while his cape chases him with a dramatic flair that cannot be equaled. His determination to save the world gives me motivation to finish my vegetables, beans, tortillas and tea in reasonable time to walk back up the hill to my duty.
There, I choose a bike that is only slightly the wrong size for me, and I make some plans during our bike ride to La Cuchilla for the upcoming classes: english and art. First hill: if I can make it to the tienda with the peacocks, I feel like Lance Armstrong. I don't mind walking the bike up the last 20 foot incline. Left turn at the gas station: everyday I wonder if that street is Rodolfo Robles but no one can give me a straight answer, not even the map. The hill of doom: anyone who attempts to bike this immediately receives my full admiration. Left turn at the bus stop: we've gone past the ritzy neighborhood with the waterfall into the extremely poor neighborhoods with the goats and crumbling bricks.
Classes begin. Marcos has vision problems and his shoes are literally falling off of his feet, but when he shows me his art, he could not be happier. Evelyn draws me pictures and calls me "seño"... Oliver likes to bully, but when you sit with him, he remains quite attentive.
I walk with anxious kids to get the key for the bathroom during the pause. The others play soccer, and I am eager to watch. In those moments, they have no cares. Their minds are not on having new school clothes to show off or video games to play. No, instead their sole delight is in a simple game with a simple ball. Even the pouring rain cannot wash away their joy in this game they play together. Here I realize that though many of them may never see a portion of the wealth that we see everyday, their lives are abundantly rich.
Classes finish and the other teachers and I affectionately say goodbye to the children. We head back down the hills on our bikes in the pounding rain. We rest a bit at our school and continue our descent back down the hill to the heart of the city where we live. The rain continues, and our pants have become so soaked that the street water becomes the wick and our pants the source. During this walk, as we talk and laugh, when we are cold, wet and most likely to be miserable, that is when we find ourselves most happy to be in Xela.
But I can't stay long after class. I have limitied time to get down the hill, past the market and to a good place to eat before I need to come back to the market and up the hill for the afternoon's work. On my journey, I listen with newfound appreciation to Marc Anthony. I can't explain it; it's a Guatemalan mystery. My head is full as I try to think with new words. I formulate sentences to greet the sights that I missed on this morning's trek: buenas tardes (the papeleria boy), gracias por los regalos ayer (the local pan shop), su hijo es muy lindo (the family tienda lady), me recuerdes de Daisy (the tan dalmation.)
I make it to the Blue Angel with barely enough time to eat. Superman is flying around in the form of a 3 year old. I try to talk to him, but he will only respond with scowls and grunts while his cape chases him with a dramatic flair that cannot be equaled. His determination to save the world gives me motivation to finish my vegetables, beans, tortillas and tea in reasonable time to walk back up the hill to my duty.
There, I choose a bike that is only slightly the wrong size for me, and I make some plans during our bike ride to La Cuchilla for the upcoming classes: english and art. First hill: if I can make it to the tienda with the peacocks, I feel like Lance Armstrong. I don't mind walking the bike up the last 20 foot incline. Left turn at the gas station: everyday I wonder if that street is Rodolfo Robles but no one can give me a straight answer, not even the map. The hill of doom: anyone who attempts to bike this immediately receives my full admiration. Left turn at the bus stop: we've gone past the ritzy neighborhood with the waterfall into the extremely poor neighborhoods with the goats and crumbling bricks.
Classes begin. Marcos has vision problems and his shoes are literally falling off of his feet, but when he shows me his art, he could not be happier. Evelyn draws me pictures and calls me "seño"... Oliver likes to bully, but when you sit with him, he remains quite attentive.
I walk with anxious kids to get the key for the bathroom during the pause. The others play soccer, and I am eager to watch. In those moments, they have no cares. Their minds are not on having new school clothes to show off or video games to play. No, instead their sole delight is in a simple game with a simple ball. Even the pouring rain cannot wash away their joy in this game they play together. Here I realize that though many of them may never see a portion of the wealth that we see everyday, their lives are abundantly rich.
Classes finish and the other teachers and I affectionately say goodbye to the children. We head back down the hills on our bikes in the pounding rain. We rest a bit at our school and continue our descent back down the hill to the heart of the city where we live. The rain continues, and our pants have become so soaked that the street water becomes the wick and our pants the source. During this walk, as we talk and laugh, when we are cold, wet and most likely to be miserable, that is when we find ourselves most happy to be in Xela.
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