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.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
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.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Sueños
Yesterday was a pretty rough day for me. I became overwhelmed by all that I have been learning, the busy schedule, the new experiences, the physical demands , etc and my brain just shut down. But on top of that, I was trying to process some emotional/spiritual thoughts as well.
I took some time in the afternoon to read/write/pray/rest. I read some great things about life, our need for community, our need for solitude as well as our need to listen to our "inner necessity" or those parts of us that were placed in us for a purpose bigger than ourselves that we just cannot ignore. I was feeling frustrated because I don't really know what my inner necessity is..and I'd like to. Later that afternoon, I took a nap and I had a couple of dreams during my nap that I just can't shake:
Somehow I was at a concert or show of some sort. I was the girl singing in the concert, but I was also watching the whole situation. I was singing, or wanted to sing and had wanted to sing all of my life, but I had no idea why. It wasn’t a strong passion, just something I had always worked toward. People even had asked me about it and I told them I had always wanted to sing, but I never knew why.
During part of the concert, somehow we found out that another girl in the audience really wanted to sing for a living and it was her life long passion/dream. Someone asked me if she could sing the last song with me. I just stood there processing for a second and realized that the purpose that I had been interested in singing all of my life was for this one moment—to give this girl a chance to sing with a band and to help her with her dream.
I had another dream that involved a cat on a roof. Someone was trying to chase the cat away, but I was trying to protect it because somehow I knew this cat was going to inspire the first piece of music that either Beethoven or Mozart composed. I somehow saved the cat just in time, and right after that I saw this young boy watching the cat and getting excited about a tempo or a melody, and I knew that a huge string of events had just begun that would effect millions of people in the world and that my whole purpose in life had been to save that cat.
I love dreams, and I really do think they are important. If there is one thing in my life that points to God's existence, it's dreams. I'm still trying to process these...
I took some time in the afternoon to read/write/pray/rest. I read some great things about life, our need for community, our need for solitude as well as our need to listen to our "inner necessity" or those parts of us that were placed in us for a purpose bigger than ourselves that we just cannot ignore. I was feeling frustrated because I don't really know what my inner necessity is..and I'd like to. Later that afternoon, I took a nap and I had a couple of dreams during my nap that I just can't shake:
Somehow I was at a concert or show of some sort. I was the girl singing in the concert, but I was also watching the whole situation. I was singing, or wanted to sing and had wanted to sing all of my life, but I had no idea why. It wasn’t a strong passion, just something I had always worked toward. People even had asked me about it and I told them I had always wanted to sing, but I never knew why.
During part of the concert, somehow we found out that another girl in the audience really wanted to sing for a living and it was her life long passion/dream. Someone asked me if she could sing the last song with me. I just stood there processing for a second and realized that the purpose that I had been interested in singing all of my life was for this one moment—to give this girl a chance to sing with a band and to help her with her dream.
I had another dream that involved a cat on a roof. Someone was trying to chase the cat away, but I was trying to protect it because somehow I knew this cat was going to inspire the first piece of music that either Beethoven or Mozart composed. I somehow saved the cat just in time, and right after that I saw this young boy watching the cat and getting excited about a tempo or a melody, and I knew that a huge string of events had just begun that would effect millions of people in the world and that my whole purpose in life had been to save that cat.
I love dreams, and I really do think they are important. If there is one thing in my life that points to God's existence, it's dreams. I'm still trying to process these...
Monday, June 30, 2008
My life in the clouds.
Living in the clouds has its advantages. It’s still true. They have a majestic beauty and they create a soft film through which to see my surroundings. The clouds gather about me in the forms of loyal dogs, the adorable man on the reversed tricycle with the speaker overhead, affectionate children, delicious bread, the mountains in every view, the colorful streets, the Jesus statue parade, and multitudes of others.
However, living in the clouds has its disadvantages as well. When the clouds start to clear, the pain hidden among them becomes more visible.
Today, we had our weekly discussion with the director of our school. Our topic has been the 36 year armed conflict in Guatemala, which we are not far removed from as far as time is concerned. Today, he asked me to translate a story to the group from a book written in the 1980s. I had a hard time with the language as there were many words I didn’t understand. But I had a more difficult time with the content. It was another story of a village persecuted at the whim of a government in search of “communists” in order to satisfy the desire of the US CIA, foreign (American) companies and a few in power to eradicate supposed communists via unfair accusations, institutionalized slavery and eventual massacres.
We learned more of the story today. We learned of the role of the neopentecostal church and how they started churches and because they had money-- and with the assistance of the government-- they would give people food and necessities if the people handed over their guns—but only if they also converted to this church. The Catholic church at the time was considered to be radical and leftist by the government because they talked about freedom and equality and justice, but the neopentecostal church talked about how everything happens for a reason and we just need to accept our life circumstances. Two very different philosophies under the same faith heading.
I don’t think that I’m incredibly naïve, and I know these things happen all the time. I know that my government was involved in this whole situation in a VERY negative way, basically supporting the massacres in the name of anti-communism, and that my government and others everywhere are involved in many conflicts in various ways that I will never understand completely. I know that it is complex, and there are two sides to every story. But it doesn’t make it any less wrong. And just because civil wars and armed conflicts and tragedies are an everyday occurrence doesn’t mean that hearing about them shouldn’t break my heart.
Walking down the hill today, I began to step out of the clouds. As my tears threatened to choke me, all I could think of was this song:
Changes Come –by Over the Rhine
Changes come…turn my world around.
Changes come…turn my world around.
I have my father’s hand, I have my mother’s tongue
I look for redemption in everyone.
I wanna wear your ring, I have a song to sing
It aint over babe, in fact it’s just begun.
Changes come…turn my world around
Changes come…bring the whole thing down.
I wanna have our baby, somedays I think that maybe
This old world’s too messed up for any firstborn son
There is all this untouched beauty, the light the dark both running through me
Is there still redemption for anyone?
Changes come…turn my world around.
Changes come…bring the whole thing down.
Jesus come…turn our world around.
Jesus come…lay my burden down.
Jesus come…turn this world around.
Jesus come…bring the whole thing down.
If you've never heard the song, the live version is well worth a listen.
However, living in the clouds has its disadvantages as well. When the clouds start to clear, the pain hidden among them becomes more visible.
Today, we had our weekly discussion with the director of our school. Our topic has been the 36 year armed conflict in Guatemala, which we are not far removed from as far as time is concerned. Today, he asked me to translate a story to the group from a book written in the 1980s. I had a hard time with the language as there were many words I didn’t understand. But I had a more difficult time with the content. It was another story of a village persecuted at the whim of a government in search of “communists” in order to satisfy the desire of the US CIA, foreign (American) companies and a few in power to eradicate supposed communists via unfair accusations, institutionalized slavery and eventual massacres.
We learned more of the story today. We learned of the role of the neopentecostal church and how they started churches and because they had money-- and with the assistance of the government-- they would give people food and necessities if the people handed over their guns—but only if they also converted to this church. The Catholic church at the time was considered to be radical and leftist by the government because they talked about freedom and equality and justice, but the neopentecostal church talked about how everything happens for a reason and we just need to accept our life circumstances. Two very different philosophies under the same faith heading.
I don’t think that I’m incredibly naïve, and I know these things happen all the time. I know that my government was involved in this whole situation in a VERY negative way, basically supporting the massacres in the name of anti-communism, and that my government and others everywhere are involved in many conflicts in various ways that I will never understand completely. I know that it is complex, and there are two sides to every story. But it doesn’t make it any less wrong. And just because civil wars and armed conflicts and tragedies are an everyday occurrence doesn’t mean that hearing about them shouldn’t break my heart.
Walking down the hill today, I began to step out of the clouds. As my tears threatened to choke me, all I could think of was this song:
Changes Come –by Over the Rhine
Changes come…turn my world around.
Changes come…turn my world around.
I have my father’s hand, I have my mother’s tongue
I look for redemption in everyone.
I wanna wear your ring, I have a song to sing
It aint over babe, in fact it’s just begun.
Changes come…turn my world around
Changes come…bring the whole thing down.
I wanna have our baby, somedays I think that maybe
This old world’s too messed up for any firstborn son
There is all this untouched beauty, the light the dark both running through me
Is there still redemption for anyone?
Changes come…turn my world around.
Changes come…bring the whole thing down.
Jesus come…turn our world around.
Jesus come…lay my burden down.
Jesus come…turn this world around.
Jesus come…bring the whole thing down.
If you've never heard the song, the live version is well worth a listen.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Videos...
Donut eating contest videos:
Contestant 1:
Contestant 2:
Contestant 3:
Contestant 4:
The results?
A video of dancing before the Buena Vista Social Club Concert!!
And two videos of the Capoeira demonstration at the Brazilian party...
Contestant 1:
Contestant 2:
Contestant 3:
Contestant 4:
The results?
A video of dancing before the Buena Vista Social Club Concert!!
And two videos of the Capoeira demonstration at the Brazilian party...
Friday, June 27, 2008
Buena Vista Social Club!
Last night, as a last minute decision, I went to a Buena Vista Social Club concert....it was absolutely incredible! Looking back, I can't believe I considered NOT going...there were tons of people from the really young to the really old dancing their heart's out...quite magical!
I was able to do some salsa dancing with some friends, and I even learned a little Cha Cha Cha. It was such a great experience to get to dance to the live music of a world renowed salsa group.
Here's a short video of the band...I have a video of dancing with a friend of mine from school, but it's sideways...not sure how to fix that. I'm trying to get it on youtube, then maybe i'll be able to edit. not sure. I have some pictures as well that I'll post soon from my classes at La Cuchilla school and from the concert last night.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Fotos...
A few more fotos of the past week or so...
1. The Flores Barrio version of an Art and Music Party...I saw kids dancing in cowboy hats and some artwork on display and books for sell/trade...pretty cool, really!
2. This was in a courtyard outside of a bakery where I went to a benefit breakfast. There were so many cool things to look at that I had to snap a foto.
7. Edwin from Sweden, Kate from NY, Rosa from Aberdeen all studying together at La Luna.
1. The Flores Barrio version of an Art and Music Party...I saw kids dancing in cowboy hats and some artwork on display and books for sell/trade...pretty cool, really!
2. This was in a courtyard outside of a bakery where I went to a benefit breakfast. There were so many cool things to look at that I had to snap a foto.
3. Last night, our upstairs crew went to see our "roommate" Tim play guitar at El Cuartito, or as Edwin *guy towards the right* says: Al Gore-tito. Yeah, it's kinda a funny pic...
4. The chair hanging from the ceiling at Al Gore-tito. We decided that was the place where they put people who don't like their coffee.
5. Our table....very chill.
6. This is another coffeehouse type place that we found called La Luna. It's so amazing...it's somewhat of a museum/wine and cheese shop/chocolateria...etc. Great decor and lighting....
7. Edwin from Sweden, Kate from NY, Rosa from Aberdeen all studying together at La Luna.
8. I think I am in love with this No Smoking sign....
9. Found this statue in a park inside of the municipal building...I realized later that a man in a tuxedo was smiling at me the whole time I was walking around...it was like something sweet from a 40s movie...
10. A view of the enclosed park
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Good Morning, Xela!
I can't imagine what could possibly bang so loudly at 6:30am right outside my window, and then I remember: Guatemaltecos love fireworks. The barrage of kapows stifles any further desire to sleep, and as soon as I sit up, I realize that once again, last night's tea has moved quickly, and I rush down to the bathroom frantically gathering my shower stuff as I go.
I flip the electricity switch and hope that I can turn the shower on only sighly enough for it to become warm. I figured it would become easier to create the perfect temperature, but time serves only to give the shower more opportunity to be inconsistent.
Later, I greet the other travelers in our community kitchen at the hostel. We, with our various accents and purposes for traveling, negotiate whether our shared language for the meal will be English or Spanish. Usually it becomes an odd mixture of the two. Someone always persists that we must use Spanish since we are in Guatemala in fact, while another quickly says, "It's too early for my brain to use Spanish." I agree with both of them.
I rush through breakfast with a fresh appreciation for tea, and I step outside the hostel hoping that I've planned my clothing for the various seasons we will experience today.
Outside, I am immediately greeted by the smell that I adore more everyday: the enchanting mix of tortillas frying, exhaust, coniferous trees, crisp air, and metal. I enjoy my 25 minute walk to the school with growing enthusiasm. I see some new faces and some familiar, which both paints my foreign-ness and erases it. I see the Mayan women with their friendly faces, and the business men with umbrellas in hand. I see Carlos' brother, the Xelapan guy and later the Xelapan girl. I see the serious teenager and wish for an opportunity to talk to the Adam Sandler child look alike.
I walk the same path each day, but always there is something new. I measure the walk by the tiendas and businesses. First stop: Mercado de Flores. Right turn: Casa Argentina/Quetzaltrekkers. Top the the first hill: Copy shop and wide turning buses. Second corner: Oil Change place and bus stop. Merge right: Dirt road and El Nahual sign. As I walk, I pace my breathing to coincide with the passing of the chicken buses, and when I get to the lumberyard I make sure to breathe in a few extra.
I struggle up the last hill, panting more with each step. The only fuel that propels me to the top is the thought that, even if quite slightly, the climb was easier today than yesterday.
I meet the dogs with blood in their eyes. I am forever suspicious of their intentions yet when they walk me home, I could not trust them more. I've named one Shadow; no matter how I try to escape him he remains connected to my steps. Ever the hunter, he sniffs for food as we walk. When I offer him a bit of my cracker, he graciously declines.
Santa Maria is an ever-present companion. If the landscape were a conversation, she would be pressing her megaphone to my ear. And when she hides in her screen of clouds, that is when her presence is most immutable.
I see the cows clambering towards me, their heads bobbing. We have one thing in common: we share an eternal optimisim. Just as I forever hope that my bedbugs will decide not to haunt me each evening, so the cows anticipate the next bob of their heads will free them from their ropes. Perhaps we're all silly.
The farmer is only slightly behind the herd. He trots on as if being pulled by the cows against his will. He offers a slight "buenos dias" ever so politely. The lines on his face and the light in his eyes reveal a preoccupation that I do not know.
The clouds are painted more majestically each day. Living among them has its perks as they are more beautiful up close.
And though I am merely a few hundred feet higher than my other world back at home, as I walk the last few steps to the living gift appropriately named El Nahual, I have the feeling that somehow upon this hill I am walking a little closer to heaven.
I flip the electricity switch and hope that I can turn the shower on only sighly enough for it to become warm. I figured it would become easier to create the perfect temperature, but time serves only to give the shower more opportunity to be inconsistent.
Later, I greet the other travelers in our community kitchen at the hostel. We, with our various accents and purposes for traveling, negotiate whether our shared language for the meal will be English or Spanish. Usually it becomes an odd mixture of the two. Someone always persists that we must use Spanish since we are in Guatemala in fact, while another quickly says, "It's too early for my brain to use Spanish." I agree with both of them.
I rush through breakfast with a fresh appreciation for tea, and I step outside the hostel hoping that I've planned my clothing for the various seasons we will experience today.
Outside, I am immediately greeted by the smell that I adore more everyday: the enchanting mix of tortillas frying, exhaust, coniferous trees, crisp air, and metal. I enjoy my 25 minute walk to the school with growing enthusiasm. I see some new faces and some familiar, which both paints my foreign-ness and erases it. I see the Mayan women with their friendly faces, and the business men with umbrellas in hand. I see Carlos' brother, the Xelapan guy and later the Xelapan girl. I see the serious teenager and wish for an opportunity to talk to the Adam Sandler child look alike.
I walk the same path each day, but always there is something new. I measure the walk by the tiendas and businesses. First stop: Mercado de Flores. Right turn: Casa Argentina/Quetzaltrekkers. Top the the first hill: Copy shop and wide turning buses. Second corner: Oil Change place and bus stop. Merge right: Dirt road and El Nahual sign. As I walk, I pace my breathing to coincide with the passing of the chicken buses, and when I get to the lumberyard I make sure to breathe in a few extra.
I struggle up the last hill, panting more with each step. The only fuel that propels me to the top is the thought that, even if quite slightly, the climb was easier today than yesterday.
I meet the dogs with blood in their eyes. I am forever suspicious of their intentions yet when they walk me home, I could not trust them more. I've named one Shadow; no matter how I try to escape him he remains connected to my steps. Ever the hunter, he sniffs for food as we walk. When I offer him a bit of my cracker, he graciously declines.
Santa Maria is an ever-present companion. If the landscape were a conversation, she would be pressing her megaphone to my ear. And when she hides in her screen of clouds, that is when her presence is most immutable.
I see the cows clambering towards me, their heads bobbing. We have one thing in common: we share an eternal optimisim. Just as I forever hope that my bedbugs will decide not to haunt me each evening, so the cows anticipate the next bob of their heads will free them from their ropes. Perhaps we're all silly.
The farmer is only slightly behind the herd. He trots on as if being pulled by the cows against his will. He offers a slight "buenos dias" ever so politely. The lines on his face and the light in his eyes reveal a preoccupation that I do not know.
The clouds are painted more majestically each day. Living among them has its perks as they are more beautiful up close.
And though I am merely a few hundred feet higher than my other world back at home, as I walk the last few steps to the living gift appropriately named El Nahual, I have the feeling that somehow upon this hill I am walking a little closer to heaven.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Today, I went with some friends, Julia and Kate, to Fuentes Georginas...hot springs! It was one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. The drive there was breathtaking as well, with wonderful views of Santa Maria in the clouds. Here are some photos and a video:
1. Santa Maria from up in the clouds.
2. Another view...she's beautiful!
6. It really felt like paradise with the cool air and hot water...
11. Leaving Xela to go to Fuentes...
1. Santa Maria from up in the clouds.
2. Another view...she's beautiful!
3. A view of Zunil
4. Vegetable stands like this lined the street...how do they each sell enough? I love the colors...
5. The Hot Springs....so relaxing!
6. It really felt like paradise with the cool air and hot water...
7. Great vegetation...it felt like paradise!
8. Even a place to pray...
9. The mountains go on forever...
10. This is a view of Parque Central at night from a balcony restaurant.
11. Leaving Xela to go to Fuentes...
12. I'd like to hear this band...
13. Another view of Zunil in the clouds...
14. The flowers and plants at Fuentes...
This video is from our bus of a spectucular view of Santa Maria. It's not the clearest, and it's tough to hear the commentary, but it gives a taste of what it was like. We were all in love with the view....
Saturday, June 14, 2008
doble
It's funny how time changes our perceptions--and our memories as well.
My first week in Xela seems like eons ago. And I remember my perception of the city then...how things looked, where things were, the general vibe of the neighborhoods, etc. And those things have all transformed in my head to new perceptions...and perhaps will continue to morph. I was walking today on the street where I live and I saw another Spanish school/internet cafe that I used to go to now and then. The place had such a different vibe to me before I lived two blocks away from it. weird.
Today, I went to Parque Central to read for a bit. It was very refreshing--the sun was strong, the breeze was cool, and the park content. I was reading a book by Henri Nouwen and really enjoyed some quotes/thoughts:
"Just as words lost their power when they are not born out of silence, so openness loses its meaning when there is no ability to be closed." Here he was talking about the need to "protect the mysteries of our lives" and not reveal all through "empty chatter, easy confessions, hollow talk, senseless compliments, poor praise" etc.
While quoting another story, he made reference to the treasure house that is inside each of us. We often look to others, books, relationships, etc to be the answers to our questions and to give us advice. While those can be good resources, we often miss out on the treasure house we each have in us that can be opened through solitude, prayer, reflection, etc. All too often, we fill our empty times and spaces with entertainment, surface-deep communication, busy-ness and pressures. We are "driven"--a word that is often recognized as positive, but really can be a hinderance to our freedom (what are we driven by? what is controlling our lives?) By making time and space to search our own hearts, to confront ourselves at our very core, we then protect and nurture the mysteries of our lives--the parts of us that make us unique, the deep dreams and hopes, and the good that God has put in us to pour out to others. As he quoted Rilke, "What is going on in your innermost being is worthy of your whole love."
It's a good book so far.
And now for some recent photos:
1. The view of Santa Maria from a street near one of the schools that I bike to: La Cuchilla
My first week in Xela seems like eons ago. And I remember my perception of the city then...how things looked, where things were, the general vibe of the neighborhoods, etc. And those things have all transformed in my head to new perceptions...and perhaps will continue to morph. I was walking today on the street where I live and I saw another Spanish school/internet cafe that I used to go to now and then. The place had such a different vibe to me before I lived two blocks away from it. weird.
Today, I went to Parque Central to read for a bit. It was very refreshing--the sun was strong, the breeze was cool, and the park content. I was reading a book by Henri Nouwen and really enjoyed some quotes/thoughts:
"Just as words lost their power when they are not born out of silence, so openness loses its meaning when there is no ability to be closed." Here he was talking about the need to "protect the mysteries of our lives" and not reveal all through "empty chatter, easy confessions, hollow talk, senseless compliments, poor praise" etc.
While quoting another story, he made reference to the treasure house that is inside each of us. We often look to others, books, relationships, etc to be the answers to our questions and to give us advice. While those can be good resources, we often miss out on the treasure house we each have in us that can be opened through solitude, prayer, reflection, etc. All too often, we fill our empty times and spaces with entertainment, surface-deep communication, busy-ness and pressures. We are "driven"--a word that is often recognized as positive, but really can be a hinderance to our freedom (what are we driven by? what is controlling our lives?) By making time and space to search our own hearts, to confront ourselves at our very core, we then protect and nurture the mysteries of our lives--the parts of us that make us unique, the deep dreams and hopes, and the good that God has put in us to pour out to others. As he quoted Rilke, "What is going on in your innermost being is worthy of your whole love."
It's a good book so far.
And now for some recent photos:
1. The view of Santa Maria from a street near one of the schools that I bike to: La Cuchilla
2. I walk down this street a couple times a day...sometimes it's beauty gets overlooked.
3. Dinner by candlelight in a restaurant is common when the power goes out. Cabro is a local beer and this particular bottle was lucky enough to get two stickers.
4. There is a clearer version with the flash, but I think this one is way cooler. It captures the feel of the evening better...
5. This candle came in handy when the power went out again at the Entremundos party...
6. Out on our walk up by the Democracia market today...it's always fun to find new streets!
7. What is more fun? Finding cool old buildings such as this:
8. And finding cool doors as well...
9. Too many good textures...
Friday, June 13, 2008
Earthquake!?!
Crazy!
Today was a crazy day! We had so much sun, and so little rain. It was WONDERFUL! However, I forget how much stronger the sun is. I sat outside for awhile today and then had a long bike ride to a school this afternoon, and now my arms and shoulders are on FIRE!
Then, I went to eat with some friends at this great Indian Restaurant. We had to wait about an hour and a half to eat, but it was definitely worth it. Me encanta Sabor de la India. Anyway, while we were sitting there, we noticed the table start to shake. We looked around and other people in the restaurant were all looking around and we realized that the whole room was shaking. It was an earthquake! It didn't last very long, and was only intense enough to be super cool! It was a good first earthquake experience for me!
Tonight, I went with some friends from school and from the hostal to a benefit party for a women's weaving cooperative, Trama. It was a Salsa/other dancing party..very cool! There were free salsa lessons and then everyone just danced. I danced with some fun people, and we were all glad we went. I really need to find a way to keep up this salsa dancing thing when I return to the states....
Today, I biked to another school up the mountain to teach English. There was some confusion about the English/Art classes, so we combined forces. I basically led the kids in a lesson about names for body parts in English, including a group rendition of "heads shoulders knees and toes..." and I realized later after talking with some of the kids and art teachers that I REALLY like working with the kids. I like it way more than I thought I would.
I need to think about that more....
Today was a crazy day! We had so much sun, and so little rain. It was WONDERFUL! However, I forget how much stronger the sun is. I sat outside for awhile today and then had a long bike ride to a school this afternoon, and now my arms and shoulders are on FIRE!
Then, I went to eat with some friends at this great Indian Restaurant. We had to wait about an hour and a half to eat, but it was definitely worth it. Me encanta Sabor de la India. Anyway, while we were sitting there, we noticed the table start to shake. We looked around and other people in the restaurant were all looking around and we realized that the whole room was shaking. It was an earthquake! It didn't last very long, and was only intense enough to be super cool! It was a good first earthquake experience for me!
Tonight, I went with some friends from school and from the hostal to a benefit party for a women's weaving cooperative, Trama. It was a Salsa/other dancing party..very cool! There were free salsa lessons and then everyone just danced. I danced with some fun people, and we were all glad we went. I really need to find a way to keep up this salsa dancing thing when I return to the states....
Today, I biked to another school up the mountain to teach English. There was some confusion about the English/Art classes, so we combined forces. I basically led the kids in a lesson about names for body parts in English, including a group rendition of "heads shoulders knees and toes..." and I realized later after talking with some of the kids and art teachers that I REALLY like working with the kids. I like it way more than I thought I would.
I need to think about that more....
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Una Video...
I shot this video last week...it was a little too cloudy, but I hope to add more videos....
Saturday, June 07, 2008
fotos...tres
Mas fotos de Xela.......!
1. A close-up of part of the door to El Nahual... (my dad has great ideas!)
2. One of my favorite student art displays at the school...not sure who this is. David Bowie? Boy George?
6. Lago Atitlan. I've heard it's the second most beautiful lake in the world. I believe it.
1. A close-up of part of the door to El Nahual... (my dad has great ideas!)
2. One of my favorite student art displays at the school...not sure who this is. David Bowie? Boy George?
3. This is one of the many dogs in the neighboorhood. He's trouble and rumored to be rabid...but he can be very cute too!
4. A sign on the post outside the school. A warning?
5. One of the streets in Panajachel. I love the mountains in the cloudy mist.
6. Lago Atitlan. I've heard it's the second most beautiful lake in the world. I believe it.
7. A beautiful building in Panajachel. Guatemala knows how to do color.
8. We found the stairway to heaven. It was in the middle of nowhere...really.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
A very good day!
Today has been an amazing day...one of my favorites since I've been in Xela...
First of all, I woke up this morning to the realization that I had my first dream in Spanish! I don't remember much about it except that I was using verbs correctly, and I was really excited about it.
Then, we walked to school, and the sun was actually shining! It was even warm! We haven't had weather that nice in WAY too long...I can't remember actually. Sure, we had more rain later, but that bit of sun was enough to light the entire day.
Then, my class today went really well. I was studying future tense and the uses of "por" and "para" and I was actually getting it. I was so overjoyed to be studying today and practicing my spanish, and I almost got teary-eyed because my teacher told me that one of the other teachers was noticing that I was speaking more these days! Little by little...
Later, we had a school salsa lesson. It was great to practice and learn a few more things. After that, I had the afternoon free so I ate at my favorite restaurant, leisurely did my homework, chatted with some friends and relaxed. Tonight, we went to eat at this great Indian place with amazing Licuados (fruit smoothies). It was such a neat time eating and chatting with my girls about relationships, personalities...you name it. Good stuff.
And finally, tonight I accomplished a major life goal: to go dancing at a real salsa club. La Panderria has free lessons on Wednesday nights, so a couple of girlfriends and I went. We did some group warmups and then the instructor asked me to dance. He was a GREAT leader, and we did some cool turns and spins and such and danced for awhile. It felt so great to not only be at a real salsa club, but also to be actually dancing not completely foolishly (i hope).
Day by day, I'm loving life in Xela more and more. I've had so many great opportunities and experiences here so far...once again, I'm very thankful.
I was thinking the other day about how wonderful it is to be sitting in my room, walking down the street or eating dinner and hearing people speaking Spanish all around. I will miss that very much.
First of all, I woke up this morning to the realization that I had my first dream in Spanish! I don't remember much about it except that I was using verbs correctly, and I was really excited about it.
Then, we walked to school, and the sun was actually shining! It was even warm! We haven't had weather that nice in WAY too long...I can't remember actually. Sure, we had more rain later, but that bit of sun was enough to light the entire day.
Then, my class today went really well. I was studying future tense and the uses of "por" and "para" and I was actually getting it. I was so overjoyed to be studying today and practicing my spanish, and I almost got teary-eyed because my teacher told me that one of the other teachers was noticing that I was speaking more these days! Little by little...
Later, we had a school salsa lesson. It was great to practice and learn a few more things. After that, I had the afternoon free so I ate at my favorite restaurant, leisurely did my homework, chatted with some friends and relaxed. Tonight, we went to eat at this great Indian place with amazing Licuados (fruit smoothies). It was such a neat time eating and chatting with my girls about relationships, personalities...you name it. Good stuff.
And finally, tonight I accomplished a major life goal: to go dancing at a real salsa club. La Panderria has free lessons on Wednesday nights, so a couple of girlfriends and I went. We did some group warmups and then the instructor asked me to dance. He was a GREAT leader, and we did some cool turns and spins and such and danced for awhile. It felt so great to not only be at a real salsa club, but also to be actually dancing not completely foolishly (i hope).
Day by day, I'm loving life in Xela more and more. I've had so many great opportunities and experiences here so far...once again, I'm very thankful.
I was thinking the other day about how wonderful it is to be sitting in my room, walking down the street or eating dinner and hearing people speaking Spanish all around. I will miss that very much.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Felicidad...
I need to blog today: we're in the middle of a tropical storm--Arthur is the name, I believe. Anyway, lots of intense rain and such. Schools were called off today because of flooding and dangerous roads. We still had our volunteer work, but we only have a few students come to our programs. All day, my clothes were soaking wet, and it was very cold, but it wasn't too miserable somehow. Guatemala is an experience. For example, yesterday I went with some friends to the most beautiful lake, Lake Atitlan, located at the feet of some incredible volcanos. On our way back, we took the infamous Chicken Buses. Imagine a typical US school bus, but really old and rickety, crammed with adults, three per seat and more in the aisles standing. At one point, I was on the edge of a seat with three generations of Mayan women. We were toward the front of the bus, so I could see our reflection in the driver's mirror. I was captivated by the juxtapostion of cultures: those three beautiful women in their amazing colorful traditional clothing, and this blonde, white girl in her black nike sweatshirt. It was so fascinating, and I couldn't help but grin and love it. It wasn't the most comfortable of transportation, and there was an overwhelming sausage smell, but it was a great experience. And the storm today was an experience as well. It's not everyday that I get to take Spanish class by candlelight at 8am and drink tea made of herbs grown in the highlands of Guatemala.
Today, Jaime, the founder/director of this school--an amazing man who's had an incredible backgroud...i think he was a priest for awhile--was talking to our group. He was talking about his reasons for starting the school and the philosphy behind it all. He gave a bunch of statistics about how few kids get good opportunities for education and it just perpetuates the poverty and such. He was saying how because he had the opportunity to study two fields in college and such that he was obligated to provide others those opportunities. He gave an illustration: we all have 5 cents. one cent is for breakfast, one for lunch, one for dinner, one for our transportation, and one for a snack. If we evaluate our lives, we can see that we probably don't need that snack--it is an extravagance that we really can live without and going without it might be healthier for us in the long run. And if we evaluate further, we find that we probably don't need to use that one cent for our own private transportation, but that we can take the bus or walk or ride a bike. By doing one of those things, we are better able to connect with other human beings, especially those we want to serve who cannot afford to spend that one cent on their own car. So in the end, after we evaluate and simplify our lives, we find that we have two cents to share with those who really need it. It was an interesting illustration. Then he went on to talk about how some students asked mother theresa, "how much should I give? How much is enough?" and she replied, "give until it hurts." Jaime talked about how we need to give from our hearts and recognize the power of community and identify with those we serve instead of just presenting a gift and then abandoning those relationships. It should be more than simple charity, but it is investing in lives and working together to improve our situations. It was a pretty amazing talk.
Also, this week, a group of about 15 art/social justice students from cali came to the school. they're focusing on developing a sustainable project to give students in impoverished areas more opportunities for art for self-development and creative exploration---such a cool project. I'm excited to learn from them as well, and I just feel so incredibly thankful to be able to connect with these people and learn from them.
Thankful. That has been the word of this experience....I'm overwhelmed by the gift of these people and these experiences and those who support me here and at home. In the words of a friend quoting a character in a Kurt Vonnegut book today, "If this isn't happiness, what is? "
Today, Jaime, the founder/director of this school--an amazing man who's had an incredible backgroud...i think he was a priest for awhile--was talking to our group. He was talking about his reasons for starting the school and the philosphy behind it all. He gave a bunch of statistics about how few kids get good opportunities for education and it just perpetuates the poverty and such. He was saying how because he had the opportunity to study two fields in college and such that he was obligated to provide others those opportunities. He gave an illustration: we all have 5 cents. one cent is for breakfast, one for lunch, one for dinner, one for our transportation, and one for a snack. If we evaluate our lives, we can see that we probably don't need that snack--it is an extravagance that we really can live without and going without it might be healthier for us in the long run. And if we evaluate further, we find that we probably don't need to use that one cent for our own private transportation, but that we can take the bus or walk or ride a bike. By doing one of those things, we are better able to connect with other human beings, especially those we want to serve who cannot afford to spend that one cent on their own car. So in the end, after we evaluate and simplify our lives, we find that we have two cents to share with those who really need it. It was an interesting illustration. Then he went on to talk about how some students asked mother theresa, "how much should I give? How much is enough?" and she replied, "give until it hurts." Jaime talked about how we need to give from our hearts and recognize the power of community and identify with those we serve instead of just presenting a gift and then abandoning those relationships. It should be more than simple charity, but it is investing in lives and working together to improve our situations. It was a pretty amazing talk.
Also, this week, a group of about 15 art/social justice students from cali came to the school. they're focusing on developing a sustainable project to give students in impoverished areas more opportunities for art for self-development and creative exploration---such a cool project. I'm excited to learn from them as well, and I just feel so incredibly thankful to be able to connect with these people and learn from them.
Thankful. That has been the word of this experience....I'm overwhelmed by the gift of these people and these experiences and those who support me here and at home. In the words of a friend quoting a character in a Kurt Vonnegut book today, "If this isn't happiness, what is? "
Friday, May 30, 2008
Here are some more photos...
1. This is a church somewhere near the Democracia market...
2. Ki next to an amazing Mayan sculpture...a calendar perhaps?
3.This is a good landmark to know where "south" is...we think they broadcast sermons from there on Sundays...not sure.
4. This great little restaurant, the Blue Angel, has an amazing fruit salad...I get so excited everytime I have it, because it's always different fruit. This one was: strawberries, raspberries, melon, mango, papaya, banana, orange and pineapple. It's seriously rad!
This is a video of some live music we stumbled upon during our first day in Xela...so great!!
1. This is a church somewhere near the Democracia market...
2. Ki next to an amazing Mayan sculpture...a calendar perhaps?
3.This is a good landmark to know where "south" is...we think they broadcast sermons from there on Sundays...not sure.
4. This great little restaurant, the Blue Angel, has an amazing fruit salad...I get so excited everytime I have it, because it's always different fruit. This one was: strawberries, raspberries, melon, mango, papaya, banana, orange and pineapple. It's seriously rad!
This is a video of some live music we stumbled upon during our first day in Xela...so great!!
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