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"Kaito-sensei...kowai!": On Being a Scary, White Lady

2012-01-23T06:29:00.001-06:00

This week, an elementary-aged student said I looked “kowai”—scary. This was the third time I’d heard this from a student (that I could understand). The first two times, it was my light eyes that were needlessly terrifying the children. This time, it was my ‘scary hair like a witch’ that struck fear into their little English-learning hearts. And while it feels good to finally be able to surprise them by understanding their brutal honesty in Japanese (while also choosing not to think about all the other things they probably say about me that I can’t understand), I’ll admit it stings for a minute. But only a minute. Such is the joy of working with children, right? They will bring out all your insecurities (not that I was ever that insecure about my hair looking witch-like), make you confront them, and let you move on. And as a tall, white woman with piercings, tattoos, and bright red hair, I would be somewhat delusional not to expect them to notice that I look different.

As the initial sting wore off, I started to do my typical sociological analysis. (You try living abroad all the time and getting stared at like you’re a different species. I bet you’ll find yourself making the whole thing a little more abstract too.) Why do the kids find light eyes and big, curly red hair scary? I remember being told in Sri Lanka that I was “so beauty with [my] white skin and big nose!” At the time, while accepting the hilariously ironic compliment, I was also frustrated. Obviously, the influence of Western culture and its definition of beauty were incredibly strong, even in this poor, war-torn section of a relatively isolated country. Even here, these young girls were taught that beauty meant being tall with round eyes, a big nose, and—above all—white skin. So, when relating this to my current students, I’m thinking that maybe it’s a good thing that they find me scary. Maybe this means that they haven’t learned to internalize these Western, Hollywood definitions of beauty. Maybe they, with such a plethora of Japanese entertainment available to them, are able to appreciate the immense beauty that I see in the people here. While I don’t necessarily agree with all the manifestations of beauty that are promoted in Japanese culture (specifically the obsession with youth, especially in women—but this is another essay altogether), at least they are able to see beauty within their own culture and their own people.

However, I think there is another side of the issue to explore. By appreciating and respecting a more Japanese definition of beauty, are they learning to be fearful of what is different? Most people would agree that Japan is far from an “immigrant-friendly” nation. There are much worse places, of course (*cough* Arizona *cough*), but Japan definitely has a past and present of a unique type of nationalism that does not exactly encourage or welcome high levels of immigration. So, is my students’ fear of my foreign features some kind of symbol of their learning to fear all things (people) foreign? Perhaps that’s a bit of a stretch, but I think it’s worth noting. How do they learn to find those things ‘scary’ and not just ‘different’? Do most people in Japan have a reaction of ‘kowai’ when they see me?

And then, I remember the compliments I’ve gotten since I’ve been here as well. I’ve been complimented for being tall and light-skinned. I’ve been complimented for my hair color, my round eyes, and my long eyelashes. (I don’t feel too arrogant mentioning these things, since I am only responsible for one of them. As for the rest—thanks, mom and dad!) While riding on the train one morning, I was called ‘kawaii’ (cute, pretty) by a group of giggling high school girls. (Although, judging by the shocking- and rebelliously short length to which their skirts had been rolled, I suspect they may have been commenting more on the rebellious nature of my nose ring and red hair than mere ‘cute’-ness.) So, what does this mean? Perhaps the influence of a Western depiction of beauty does in fact infiltrate the culture, it just hasn’t hit my young students yet. As they grow older and have more contact with Western media, it seems they, too, learn that beauty means white skin and round, light eyes. This easily explains the growing trends of skin-lightening aesthetic treatments and eye surgeries to change color and shape. Maybe its not that Japan isn’t within the sphere of influence of Western concepts of beauty, but that it just takes more than 8 years to really imbed in the psyche. Now that I think about it, even in Sri Lanka I made a little kid burst into tears upon seeing me for the first time.

In trying to make sense of it all, I think I should take it one step further and ask: what do we in the US consider beautiful? (The very question of who we are is, again, another essay altogether. At this point, I’ll define we as those who look the most like me—white women). As white women, we generally learn that “a healthy tan” is beautiful, rather than paleness. We want to be impossibly thin, with big eyes and lips, and small noses. Skinny, dark, and doe-eyed—something almost none of us are. And what about women of color? They are traditionally taught (whether overtly or not) that they, too, are more beautiful and “desirable” with lighter skin. It’s the same with many of the women I knew in Chile and Mexico.

To attempt to pull it all together, I think that maybe it’s not as much about the exportation and internalization of Western definitions of beauty and desirability. Perhaps it’s nothing more than greener grass—wanting what you don’t have. Maybe it’s more the case that everyone is just looking to others and wanting what they have—basing our definitions of beauty on whatever we don’t see in the mirror. Of course, this is not true for all women. And hopefully, it’s not true for most. As I think of my two nieces—both so beautiful, but in such distinct ways—I hope this is not always the case. But I readily admit that I have all too often become entranced by the beautiful women of Latin America and Asia, longing for their dark features and tiny waistlines. But I guess, like all things, it’s a matter of balance—learning to see the beauty in others without denigrating your own beauty. And always, we must continue to question why it is we think the things we do, and the ways in which they influences our relationships with others and the world around us.

In an effort to end on a less cheesy, “Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy” sort of way, I want to mention that I plan to use my “kowai”-ness to it’s fullest potential as long as I’m teaching here in Japan. I’m learning to which kids I can give a quick, intense, wide-eyed stare to get them to quiet down, rather than a harsh word. And maybe for the real troublemakers, I’ll tell them that if they don’t behave, I’ll have my boyfriend come in to ‘discipline’ them—and then show them a picture of the guy from the movie Powder.

A Supposedly Relaxing Thing I’ll Probably Never Do Again*

2011-11-06T18:39:00.002-06:00

*Is it plausible for a title to be an homage, rather than just a rip-off?

One of the most common questions I’m asked about my time thus far in Japan is whether I’ve visited an onsen yet, often translated as “hot springs” or a “traditional Japanese bath house.” I, for one, had heard the former term much more often than the latter. So, as I made plans to finally visit an onsen during my week of traveling in and around Kyoto, I was expecting something like the hot springs I had been to while traveling in South America. I knew it was indoors, rather than the outdoor natural springs of Chile, but I was still expecting something involving hot tubs, saunas, and maybe even some ambient music. And in a way, I guess I was right. In a way.

It was a warm, rainy Wednesday in August when I arrived to Kyoto on a train from the nearby town of Nara. I had spent two days in Nara, and was planning to spend two to three days in Kyoto before heading back to the Tokyo area and back to work for the start of the fall term. I was truly enjoying my few days of traveling alone. Nara is a small, peaceful town with some of the most farmous and amazing Buddhist temples and statues in the world. But after two days of traveling exclusively by foot (I have a thing about using public transportation while I’m traveling, when I’m really in no hurry and have nowhere specific to be), and a few outrageous moments (involving hostels, bats, deer, ambulances, and more, that could be stories all on their own), I was somewhat exhausted—physically and emotionally—and ready for a more relaxed, recovery-type day. So, as I arrived to the rainy former capital of Japan, I planned to slowly take in some sights around my hostel before setting out to find a barely-marked onsen from my guide book. I figured this would offer me just the right amount of adventure and relaxation to recover and prepare for two more days of temples, castles, and reevaluation of the way I’ve conceived of World History for almost 25 years.

I was amazed at how quickly I found the onsen. On the map in the guidebook, the place was simply a very tiny dot on a very big map with very few street names. I didn’t even know what the word “onsen” looked like in Japanese. But sure enough, as I walked the streets, holding my guidebook parallel to the ground and turning around it as if I was doing one of those dizzy baseball bat races, I found the blue awning with pictures of water and steam—this had to be the place. As I approached the sliding glass doors under the awning, I saw the automated ticket machine outside, which the guidebook had mentioned: son of a bitch—I really had found it. (The profanity really is necessary. Anyone who knows what it’s like to look for specific things when you’re traveling, especially cheaply and alone, knows that it is damn-near impossible to find things on the first try. And for anyone who knows the crazy things that tend to happen to me when I travel, know the extra level of ‘miraculous’ that this small moment involved.) I was feeling like a downright badass as I went to by the ¥410 ticket (about US $5), and make my way into the onsen. As I turned towards the doors and waited for them to slide open, I realized they were the kind which you actually have to touch where a handle would be, in order to open them. But they still didn’t open. Maybe they’re not automatic at all, I thought. I’ve been wrong about much more ridiculous things than this before. So, awkward as it was, I began to pry the doors open and push aside the oddly-placed banner hanging right inside the glass. I quickly noticed a man about 60-years-old, sleeping on a bench just inside the door. But with the ability and propensity of most Japanese people to sleep anytime, anywhere (it really is amazing, I have to admit) I didn’t think much of this in the moment I had to think. About a second later, the sounds of my struggles with the doors and the banner must have reached the man in whatever world he was in, because he was startled awake—to find a tall, red-headed white woman inside his shop. He quickly crossed his arms in front of his chest (a pretty common thing in Japan, especially with kids, it seems), and said “Mata! mata!” Luckily (in some ways), I knew this meant “not yet! not yet!” “Sanji kara!” he said, with a look somewhere between amused, annoyed, and downright angry for being so quickly awakened. Again, I was relieved to know that he had said ‘three o’clock.’ I quickly glanced at the clock and saw 14:45—I was 15 minutes early. “But…um…I already bought my ticket!” I stammered while I held up the ticket. Again, if you’re traveling on the cheap, you don’t just throw away $5! That could be a whole day’s worth of food, if you’re smart. “Sanji kara!” he repeated. Clearly I wasn’t going to ask any other questions or get in any earlier. “Ok! Sorry!” I shouted while bowing my head in embarrassment and trying to awkwardly back out of the doors I had so struggled with (although at least I now understood) thirty seconds before. As I stepped back outside, I quickly forgot my initial luck in finding the place, and began to feel that like any good future-story, this onsen thing was doomed from the beginning.

After 15 minutes of wandering the surrounding blocks and replaying the embarrassment in my head, I slowly made my way back to the building. Of course, I gave myself a few extra minutes so I wouldn’t arrive right at 15:00, causing the guy to wonder why the hell I was so eager to sit in a hot tub. By the time I made it back, there were at least seven bikes outside, and the automatic doors were opening, you know, automatically. I was relieved, upon entering, to see that the same guy wasn’t sitting in the entrance or working at the desk. Instead, a young girl was standing behind the desk and was probably a bit confused, as I awkwardly handed her my ticket, at how I had gotten it without her seeing me use the machine before I came in. At the moment, I was thinking, “Come on, lady. I think I’m clearly awkward enough for both of us in this situation. You don’t need to be acting so weird too.” After standing uncomfortably for a moment, waiting for directions, she finally motioned me to a doorway on my left. “Doozo,” she nodded. “Go ahead,” by translation, “What the hell are you waiting for?” by interpretation. Now, looking back, I kind of wonder if she could tell this was obviously my first time, and she was trying to contain her amusement at what she knew (and I clearly didn’t) was ahead.

I slowly walked in to the locker room area and began scoping out the lockers and wicker baskets in which to put my things while I was “relaxing.” Standing by the bench, facing the wall of cubbie holes, I noticed a lady to my right who was putting things in her locker—completely naked. ‘Wow,’ I thought. ‘Ballsy. She’s obviously pretty comfortable with herself.’ But, she was probably about 40 and had a pretty nice body—I guess it makes sense. And almost immediately, as I instinctively turned my eyes away and instead towards the glass doors leading to the bath area, I noticed that there were a few more women getting in and out of the baths—all over 60 (maybe over 70?) and all completely naked. If my life were a movie (and this was a more important event than a funny cultural moment), this would be the part when the camera would spin all around me and slowly close in on my confused and horrified face. This wasn’t a place where tourists sit around sipping drinks in relaxing hot tubs. This was quite literally a bath house, where a lot of Japanese people, espcially older ones, come to bathe and to a certain extent, socialize with the people they’ve probably known (and bathed with) for more years than I’ve been alive. Needless to say, the swimsuit I had brought was not necessary.

In that moment, I decided I basically had two options: either I could repress my “no money wasted” travel ethic and just leave, or I could repress my “don’t get naked in front of a bunch of strangers” life ethic and just do this thing. I’m 24, living in Japan, don’t know anyone within a few hundered kilometers, and I already paid my $5, damnit! If I can’t do something crazy like this now, when will I be able to do it? And what’s the worst that could happen, really? Yes, I’ll feel awkward, but that obviously is not new, especailly when traveling. Yes, the women will probably stare, but again, that’s something I’m more used to than maybe I should be. And I guess yes, someone could say something, if I’m in the wrong place or doing the wrong thing, but knowing what I had learned about most Japanese people at that time, no one would say anything to me under almost any circumstance. And if they did, I probably wouldn’t understand it anyways! So, why not? Most guys do this their whole lives, in locker rooms and fitness clubs, right? If pre-pubescent teenage boys can do it, so can I.

I slowly began to undress and put my things in the basket to go in the cubby hole. I wrapped my towel around myself, figuring I might as well delay the “full reveal,” as it were, until absolutely necessary. As I slowly shuffled towards the steamy room with the faucets and pools, I found myself battling the line between trying to look at the other women for some type of direction or guidance, and trying not to be obviously looking at the other women in all their older Japanese lady nakedness. I imagine, again in retrospect, that this little inner-mental battle of looking and trying not to look like I was looking ended up coming off creepier than…well, I don’t really know what my alternative was. There was absolutely no English anywhere. This was obviously not a place designed for or used by tourists.

In what I hoped to be following the lead, I grabbed a small bucket from a stack and slowly walked to one of the many hip-high faucets along two of the walls in the shower room. there were about six different small pools in the center of the room and along the other wall. There were also stairs going to another floor above, but i didn’t even want to begin thinking of what wonders may lie up there. I reluctantly put my towel and bucket down and took a deep breath of “this is it” awareness. As I awkwardly (I wish there was another, equivalent word, but I just can’t come up with a good one) tried to rinse off with the low faucet that only ran for about 10 seconds with each push of the button, I realized that all the other women using these faucents were sitting on small plastic stools from another nearby stack. As I considered the possibility of sitting my bare ass on one of these plastic stools, and found myself thinking, ‘that seems kind of gross. But will I stick out more if I don’t do it?’ And then, I came to realize the full ridiculousness of this situation. There was no way, under any circumstances, that i was NOT going to stick out here. It wouldn’t matter if I had pulled out some chopsticks or a rice ball and started babbling away in Japanese. I was not going to “blend in” in any way, shape, or form. This not only helped me decide not to bare-ass it on the stool, but it also made me completely relax about the whole situation. Yes, I was standing naked in front of a bunch of strangers. But, so what? As far as I could tell, nothing bad was going to happen. This is why I travel, I thought: to learn a few new things about myself and the world.

Having traveled and lived in five different countries in the past four years, and usually being about a head taller and a few skin-shades lighter than anyone else, I’m pretty used to being stared at. Admittedly, the red hair, nose-ring, and tattoos probably don’t help. And the women in this bath house (the term I now use to describe an onsen) were no exception. Although, I can’t exactly fault them for looking. Not that this would come as any surpise, but my body is quite a bit different from a 70-year-old Japanese woman. In addition to height and weight and curves and such, I’m pretty sure I was the only woman in that room that had never had a child. (I also feel compelled to mention that while I have generally gotten a lot of stares in all the countries I’ve been to, the way the majority of Japanese people stare is really quite different. In all other places, including the US, when you catch someone looking at you, they acknowledge this by either quickly looking away or, if they’re more friendly and outgoing, by smiling or nodding. But in Japan, I’ve found that most people don’t do this. Instead, they just keep looking, as if they hadn’t even noticed that I could see them and am looking back. I have found that this generally makes me feel a bit less like a human being with the capability to look and connect with someone, and more like a car accident. Again, the women in the onsen were no exception; as if I was a tall, white, naked creature that had wandered in and couldn’t see them looking; as if I wasn’t clearly confused and uncomfortable.) Nonetheless, like the bare-ass stools, I realized I could do nothing but embrace the stares, quickly learn to be comfortable with my body in a way I had literally never had to be in the past, and find some way to enjoy this.

I began to wander from the faucets to the pools, which all seemed to be unbelievably hot. With my growing comfort level, I decided I would just grab my bucket and head my naked self upstairs to see what might await me there. Maybe there would be a more ambient setting or a sauna or something after all. The first thing I saw on the second floor was another room of faucets and stools. No, thank you. And then, a large, sliding (I hoped) stainless steel door. With no read-able signs to guide me, I just decided to go for it. (Obviously, I was feeling pretty daring at this point. I’m already walking around a random place with random people completley naked. Why the hell not?) I was a little nervous that this door might open to an outside area or a co-ed area or something, but I realized that that was pretty unlikely, considering the fact that the locker rooms were so far away. And if it was something somehow more embarrassing, I could always scoot back to the locker room and away from this steamy, wet house of awkwardness. But lo and behold, the huge door opened to another small pool, with fake rocks and plants and—yes—even ambient music! I was right all along! Well, you know, other than the whole naked thing. It had a price, but I had finally found the relaxing hot tub setting I had been looking for. A part of me was even starting to like the idea of being able to sit without the confines of a swim suit. I was determined to like this; determined to relax.

I slowly stepped into the shallow rock-covered pool and was unable to ignore how unbelievably hot it was. Maybe it’s just me, I thought. It’s like a hot tub—I just need to get used to it. So, still determined to relax, I sat in the pool, sweat dripping down my face and heart racing as though I had just tried to sprint a 400. I even tried to put my elbows up, head back, and close my eyes, as a couple other women came and left the room. Yes, I was in pain. Yes, I was getting light-headed and feeling my chest tighten. But, I had been through so much for this, damnit. I couldn’t possible give up now!

I gave up. My practical mind is just too damn practical to potentially give myself some sort of heat-enduced cardiac event. Plus, I started thinking about that anecdote about how frogs, when sitting in increasingly hotter water, won’t hop out because they don’t notice the small changes in the temperature. In the end, they will sit there while they unknowingly boil to death. If I don’t get out, I thought, what makes me any different from the frog? That practicality is what separates us, right? (Along with a few other characteristics of course.) Plus, if I was so embarrased by being in this place naked and alive, I didn’t even want to think about the alternative…

And so, I slowly gathered up my bucket while giving myself a moment to shake off the residual dizziness, and I started back down the stairs. I tried out a few more of the small pools on the first floor before heading back into the locker room. I had stayed for almost an hour, which seemed like a reasonable amount of “relaxation” time for my money. I quickly wrapped my towel around me and decided to sit in the room for a few minutes, watching and listening as some of the other women (mostly towel-covered as well) sat on the benches and chatted. I imagined they had known each other for years, and were catching each other up about their lives—sighing about cute things their grandchildren had done or laughing about their ridiculous husbands. In the comfort of my towel and my place along the far wall, I began to somewhat understand the draw of this for an older Japanese woman. I was able to see the community and friendship, and to understand the unique freedom this women-only escape must provide for them in their otherwise male-dominated and -infused (my assumption, of course) lives. I found myself really wishing I could understand them or even ask them what they were talking about. I wanted to laugh with them. I’m sure this was also because I had just forced myself to walk around naked in front of a bunch of foreign strangers, an event I found extremely funny, and had no one to laugh with about it. I kind of laughed vicariously through the women and let their joy express some of my own.

I left the onsen and slowly began the forty-minute walk back towards my hostel. I began replaying the afternoon in my head and making notes for the future story. I laughed out loud (probably another understandable reason I get stared at—I laugh out loud by myself a lot in public) at the lengths I had gone to and the determination I had employed to “relax” and try to “fit in.” But, I also realized that I had, in the end, found some peace and relaxation in the whole crazy event: not only through the peace of the women communing in the locker room, but through forcing myself to be naked in front of a bunch of people (something I’ve never had any desire to do whatsoever), and through forcing myself to get over it; through facing this idea of embarrassment, deconstructing it, and stripping it (no pun intended) of its power. I was reminded that in the end, a large part of embarrassment comes from the extremely self-involved notion that what you do (how you look, what you say, etc) matters to other people as much as it matters to you. As if everyone else is thinking about you as much as you are. And when I have these moments (that seem to come way more often when traveling—which is probably part of why I love it so much), it really is like taking a deep breath in and out and consciously settling back in to the small, beautiful corner of the world in which I have the pleasure to exist.

Nevertheless, I have no intentions of returning to an onsen any time soon.

we young.

2011-10-14T07:26:00.002-05:00

the following is a passage from page 694 of david foster wallace's novel--and my current hobby--Infinite Jest. i'm genuinely not sure how much sense it will make without knowing the book, but i figured it was worth a try. someone may get something out of it. but if you don't know the context, don't read too much into the political aspects. i think this resounds with me largely because i currently live in a country where people rarely show emotion or sentiment (in my experience.) but i do think he also speaks to an american generation that i absolutely grew up in and am part of. but it may not be only in the US. it really makes me wonder about why, though. why do we--young, old, american, japanese, whoever--so fear ourselves?

"We enter a spiritual puberty where we snap to the fact that the great transcendent horror is loneliness, excluded encagement in the self. Once we've hit this age, we will now give or take anything, wear any mask, to fit, be part-of, not be Alone, we young. The U.S. arts are our guide to inclusion. A how-to. We are shown how to fashion masks of ennui and jaded irony at a young age where the face is fictile enough to assume the shape of whatever it wears. And then it's stuck there, the weary cynicism that saves us from gooey sentiment and unsophisticated naivete. Sentiment equals naivete on this continent...[and] naivete is the last true terrible sin in the theology of millennial America....[It's] about a myth, viz. that queerly persistent U.S. myth that cynicism and naivete are mutually exclusive. Hal, who's empty but not dumb, theorizes privately that what passes for hip cynical transcendence of sentiment is really some kind of fear of being really human, since to be really human (at least as he conceptualizes it) is probably to be unavoidably sentimental and naive and goo-prone and generally pathetic... One of the really American things about Hal, probably, is the way he despises what it is he's really lonely for: this hideous internal self, incontinent of sentiment and need, that pulls and writhes just under the hip empty mask, anhedonia."

the books you love.

2011-10-13T18:30:00.002-05:00

Live for awhile in the books you love. Learn from them what is worth learning, but above all love them. This love will be returned to you a thousand times over. Whatever your life may become, these books—of this I am certain—will weave through the web of your unfolding. They will be among the strongest of all threads of your experiences, disappointments, and joys.

R.M. Rilke
Viareggio, April 5, 1903
Letters to a Young Poet

smiling.

2011-10-03T04:57:00.000-05:00

i am still here.

i am thinking of the fading summer,
and the emerging fall.
i am thinking of distance
and solitude.
i am infinitely jesting
and foolishly investing
in cheap wine.
and i am thinking
about smiling.

kait

"Those who are beautiful—
who can keep them as they are?
Unceasingly in their faces
the life in them arises and goes forth.
Like dew from morning grass,
like steam from a plate of food,
what is ours goes out from us.

Where does a smile go, or the upward glance,
the sudden warm movement of the heart?
Yet that is what we are. Does the universe
we dissolve into
taste of us a little?"

'Where does a smile go?' by R.M. Rilke

funny japan.

2011-08-20T23:56:00.004-05:00

here are some funny/interesting things i've seen in the past few weeks!

this one is a sign i saw in a train station. what is that man doing to that poor bird? and why does that girl want to watch??

then, last week, i worked at a summer camp for junior high kids wanting to learn english. it was really fun! and it was great to be closer to nature, but it was still quite a bit different the summer camp i experienced as a kid!

and the food was a bit different, too!

it leads, i will follow! this is a great, horrible english translation! (if you like this, you should check out engrish.com)

and then i saw these two ads next to each other the other day in tokyo and i found myself thinking, "even as a heterosexual woman, i have to say that i find the young samurai girls quite a bit sexier than the delicate, feminine men." maybe i've been here too long...

and finally, not all that funny, but really great:

this was a random spot in tokyo the other day. just one of the many little surprises in this incredible city.

and i finally got a guitar the other day! yay!!!!

t.t.m.m.h (things that make me happy)

2011-08-06T01:56:00.002-05:00

- finally writing again about things that make me happy! it's been way too long.

- evening bike rides.

- raw tofu. it's cheap and cold and delicious.

- going to the local library and checking out the following books: player piano by kurt vonnegut (kind of on a vonnegut kick right now), rabbit at rest by john updike, macbeth by william shakespeare, tokyo sketches by pete hamil, and the penguin book of international short stories 1945-1985. i like a little variety (or randomness?).

- the privilege of having a nice apartment to come home to, a fan to sit in front of, and even an air conditioner to use if necessary, when it's this hot.

- finding myself thinking in japanese sometimes! finally!

- house plants. i know have 3! one is even about 2 months old! (i've never kept a plant alive that long before.)

- having the opportunity to be in such a dynamic country at such an interesting time in (its and world) history.

the smile project

2011-08-05T05:49:00.000-05:00

the other day, after listening to a fantastic dharma talk by thich nhat hanh about the wonders of smiling, especially in the morning, i was in quite a smiley mood as i walked to the train station. and as i walked, meditating and smiling, i began to realize how alarmingly rare it is for me to see someone smiling while i’m on my commute. as i examined how freakish i felt smiling, i realized how rare it is to see people smiling in the stations, on the trains, on the streets, etc. of course, at work, i am saved by the laughter of children and some great co-workers. but on my commute and general comings-and-goings, it’s pretty rare.

so, upon noticing this, i decided to count. during my 1 hour commute to work that morning, i counted smiles. and the grand total? 4. not at me, just in general. 4 smiles. between the crowded trains and busy stations (including 1 transfer) i must have passed hundreds of people, without exaggeration. (and with my height, i have a pretty good range of vision in this country …). and i was able to count the numbers of smiles i saw on one hand. now, i know that most people commute by themselves and don’t necessarily have a lot of things to chuckle about. however, a simple smile is different. and compared to most of the places i’ve lived, this is really a change. even in chicago, strangers at least smile to each other when they both witness something crazy happening (which happens more often than not on the El). and of course, i’m not trying to say that all people here are unhappy or anything of the sort. i’m simply stating my findings.

at first, i was damn near despondent about this. i was honestly pretty upset. although there were probably some other factors playing in to it, the whole thing actually brought me to the brink of tears. it may sound a bit dramatic, but coming from chicago or especially sri lanka, where people (myself included, check pictures on fb for proof) seemed to be constantly smiling and/or laughing, this is a hard environment to adjust to. i truly believe it has dramatically affected my mood on a number of occasions, and so i’m quite happy that i realized it. but again, i was unsure what to “do about it,” if anything.

tonight, while i took an exhilirating bike ride at sunset, i found myself not only smiling but laughing uncontrollably. it was so beautiful that i simply couldn’t resist. and i started purposefully smiling at the few people i passed. some didn’t look at me (the norm, i’d say), some gave me a double-take like i was crazy (one guy actually tripped over his dog and almost caused us to crash! ha!), and some actually smiled back.

and during this ride, i decided that from now on, when i’m commuting (a solid 12 hours a week, at least), i am going to intentionally smile at people and try to get them to smile back at me. i’ll try not to be too creepy, but i’m going to actively go after smiles. luckily, unlike some places i’ve lived where doing this might very well get me slapped or hit on, i’m pretty sure the worst i’d get here is a dirty look—which i might actually prefer to being ignored.

so, this is my new project: the smile project. i don’t expect to change the world, but i figure that if i can make even one person smile, even if it’s after they walk away and are thinking, “i think that tall white girl might be crazy,” it’s worth it.

who’s with me?

daijobu desu. (it's okay.)

2011-07-08T06:19:00.000-05:00

well, i’ve obviously been neglecting the blog for a while. i don’t really have internet at home, and when i get done at work, i generally like to go home to get as much sleep as possible. and then, of course, i went into one of those spirals where it just seems like there is too much to say to ever actually sit down and write. so, for now, i write to break the ice—it will most likely be random, and in bullet form. hopefully, more to come soon.

some general learnings:
--full-time jobs (especially with little kids (who don’t speak the same language as you)) are exhausting.
--summer in japan is hot.
--there are a lot of people in tokyo. not as many of them speak english as you might assume.
--learning japanese is hard (but fun).

things i’ve unexpectedly gotten comfortable with or better at since moving to japan 3 months ago:
--bagging groceries. they give you the bags, you do the work.
--sitting in tiny chairs at tiny tables. this might be more of a preschool teacher thing than a Japanese thing.
--controlling my facial expressions when i see girls in ridiculously short skirts in public
--reading on the train. commuting over 2 hours a day will help get over any motion sickness…
--going to sleep as soon as i get home at night. i used to need some ‘wind down time.’ no more. this might be more of a “first real full time job” thing.
--packing lunches. granted, this consists of putting a small container of tofu and some frozen veggies into a little Tupperware thing, but i’m making progress.
--doing laundry by hand.

things that seemed really difficult at first but are starting to get easier:
--navigation on the trains. i get really excited any time i don’t have to look up which trains to take to get somewhere in tokyo (which doesn’t happen often.) i also can’t believe i ever complained about having to transfer ONCE in chicago. one transfer is a blessing these days.
--japanese. it’s still hard, but i’m starting to really, really enjoy it. i started lessons a couple weeks ago, and i’m starting to really enjoy it. i only wish i had more time/energy during the week to spend with it. current favorite word: daijobu—“okay” or “alright”.

things that seemed really crazy at first and…still seem really crazy:
--beer vending machines. yes. vending machines on the street that sell beer. no ID necessary. i’m pretty sure that every time i pass one, i think of a new reason why they would be unthinkable in the US.
--the short skirts. a place where fetishes are definitely born.
--how quickly and deeply people sleep on the train! it’s amazing!

japanese people (total generalization, obviously) love them some:
--scrunchies
--umbrellas (rain or shine)
--packaging. it’s great that they always separate everything and recycle like crazy, but EVERYTHING here is wrapped in some type of plastic wrap. it’s a bit paradoxical, i think.
--socks/stockings—there are a lot of stores dedicated to nothing but these.
--salons. if i tried to count the number around where i live, it would be ridiculous. i walked with a friend to one last week, and in the building where her salon was and the one next to it, of 6 store spaces, 5 were salons. how they stay afloat, i have no idea.
--dorky white guys. now, i know a lot of really, really cool white guys here, but i’ve also met/seen some really dorky ones who have japanese girlfriends/wives that are…well…out of their league. i know that sounds horribly judgmental, and it is, but i can’t tell you how many times i’ve found myself thinking, “hm…japan. the place where dorky white guys go to find beautiful japanese girlfriends/wives…”

some deeper thoughts (in short bullet-point form.) if you’d like to discuss in more depth, let’s get coffee (in japan) or set up a skype date (anywhere else)!:
--living in a rich, affluent country is hard. i’d even say harder than in poor countries. ballsy statement, i know. but, i think it is so easy to get wrapped up in artificial things and start giving importance to things that simply aren’t important. i was beginning to really feel the same back in chicago recently. i could really go on for a while about this, so i’ll try to get the thoughts out for a later post.
--it’s difficult to live in a city of 30ish million people and not want to be creative. i have made some amazing friends and seen some amazing artists that really inspire me.
--i’ve been really thinking (and creating) a lot about the idea of beauty. it’s one of the things i often come back to when i’m traveling—ie, what are we culturally trained to find beautiful versus what is “true” beauty? does such a thing even exist?
--life as an immigrant, even a well-supported, well-paid, and highly educated one, is tough. and scary at times. i went for a routine physical to a hospital, WITH a friend/coworker there to translate, and i found it a little scary. i honestly can’t imagine what it must be like for so many people around the world living in a place where they don’t speak the language, have no one, have no education, no money, and are continually exploited. anyone who has any influence on immigration policy should really try it, i think.

ok, that’s all i got for now. thanks for reading. please have a dance party now in my honor, as thanks for checking in on me.

robert wright

2011-06-16T19:46:00.001-05:00

loving this. it is applicable in so many ways. i cant wait to buy and read his books!

and it continues

2011-06-07T22:39:00.005-05:00

i know it's been a while since i've written. and really, that will continue, most likely. but, below are a couple photos from a recent hiking day i spent, IN tokyo. the city continues to amaze me. (ps, i also got a new camera, which makes me really want to share some pictures!)

as you can tell, i'm pretty happy to have some connection with nature

i'm also loving this new camera!

a beautiful view, about half-way up

and i've decided that this one is an almost perfect visual representation of my spirituality.

the incapacity to understand

2011-05-11T23:41:00.000-05:00

i've posted this poem before, but i continue to come back to it, as it continues to be so utterly relevant.

the departure of the prodigal son by r.m. rilke

To go forth now
from all the entanglement
that is ours and yet not ours,
that, like the water in an old well,
reflects us in fragments, distorts what we are.

From all that clings like burrs and brambles—
to go forth
and see for once, close up, afresh,
what we had ceased to see—
so familiar it had become.
To glimpse how vast and how impersonal
is the suffering that filled your childhood.

Yes, to go forth, hand pulling away from hand.
Go forth to what? To uncertainty,
to a country with no connections to us
and indifferent to the dramas of our life.

What drives you to go forth? Impatience, instinct,
a dark need, the incapacity to understand.

To bow to all this.
To let go—
even if you have to die alone.

Is this the start of a new life?

notice, it is sheer uncertainty to which we go forth, away from entanglement and that which we know, perhaps to other suffering or even lonely death--but always to life.
rilke understood my future existence almost too well. maybe i am him? most certainly, i think.

a glimpse of my life

2011-05-10T23:55:00.001-05:00

here you go! it's a rough video, taken on a small digital camera, but i think it gives some idea of part of my life here. i hope you enjoy!

ah, entertainment

2011-05-09T19:08:00.001-05:00

i'm planning a couple really good posts soon, but until then, enjoy these videos. i wish i could say they're joking, but i'm pretty sure these are/were for real. and it's reason enough to love this country.

BLAM!!

2011-05-06T06:11:00.007-05:00

the last couple days have been really fun and productive. which is great combo.

the main highlight from yesterday:

 i bought a bike! i had been trying for a couple days, stalled by weather and holidays (on which the shop was closed). so, i was extremely excited when i was finally able to get it yesterday! for now, i’m toying with the name “akka”, which means “red” in Japanese, “sister” in tamil, “here” in Spanish, and… “(a surprised exclamation [a-ha] with a hard Yiddish accent)?” in English. all good things! it’s a bit small, but i love the retro style (which is the norm here). i immediately took it for a long ride, to where i work, to test out the route. it’s a long and somewhat difficult ride, so i’ll probably only do it a couple times a week. it felt so great to ride though! today, riding it to run an errand, i found myself thinking, ‘life is better on a bike.’

 while on my long ride to and from where i work (a little over an hour each way), i had time to see a whole other part of my city, at a nice pace. funny signs/things i saw:
- a denny’s. one of a few i’ve seen actually. of all chains to be here, denny’s? seriously? i don’t know the last time i was at a denny’s in the US, but i’m sure i’ll be craving some pancakes some day and will give it a try here. they better have some damn pancakes.
- a hardware store called “hard & tool.” i laughed out loud. i don’t know what it says about the English language (or just me?) that when traveling, a large majority of English-attempted signs are easily interpreted as penis references. i remember noam Chomsky once saying, “in language, we create slang for things we fear. that’s why the two things we have the most slang for are death and the penis (sex).” still—hard & tool? hilarious.
- a car dealership/shop called ‘TAX’—Total Automobile Excellence. again, i wanted to stop by and say, “hey, if you’re trying to bring in English-speaking customers with the English sign, best not using the acronym TAX. people don’t like those.”
- there was also a sign for ‘BLAM!!’ (yes, 2 exclamation points)!! it was an indoor sportscenter or something, but with a pretty technical sounding acronym for BLAM that i can’t remember.
- i also passed a bunch of random fields of crops. they smelled so wonderfully like farms and outdoors. i was pretty nostalgic for the Midwest US.
- i also really liked the courteous nature of people as i rode. there isn’t always a sidewalk, and rarely is there room for multiple people. so, if someone was coming opposite, someone would have to stop and let the other person go by. and i came up to a lot of old people walking that would stop, wait for me, and then we’d give a little head bow as we passed. it was very sweet.

and today—even better! i finally went into Tokyo. i went into a neighborhood called ikebukuro, which i haven’t heard great things about. i’ve heard it’s a bit grungy and without much to see. if this is “grungy”, then i can’t freakin’ wait to see the rest of Tokyo.
highlights:

 someone actually talked to me! in English! (it doesn’t happen often). when i came up from the big, crazy train station, which seems more like an airport than a train station, this is what i saw:

and this was one of about 8 exits. i had my trusty guide book, ensuring that i look as touristy as possible, but i decided to look at the big map outside the station to orient myself before looking around. (luckily, there were these huge maps EVERYWHERE, so i really couldn’t have gotten lost if i’d tried.) as i was studying this map, trying to figure out which way i wanted to wander first, a guy came up and asked if i needed any help! i got so excited that he had offered, that i wanted to make up something specific i was looking for, but i didn’t actually have anything. so, i said, “thank you so much! but, i’m just kind of trying to get oriented before i head out. thank you though!” honestly, it seems insignificant, but it was a great way to start the day. i have looked lost plenty of times in my neighborhood, and have never had anyone say a thing to me.

 as the picture above only KIND OF captures, the amount of life in this one area was incredible. there were people and signs and sounds and things everywhere. i didn’t even try to play it cool and look like i knew what i was doing. i was gaping like the most touristy tourist in the world. i was saying, ‘holy shit!’ out loud. things were just too amazing not to audibly exclaim.
 diversity! i hadn’t seen too much in my city, but i actually saw some here! different races (it seems Africans have a pretty strong hold on the hip hop clothing market here, which is really interesting and somewhat ironic to me. a future post may be coming on this topic), different religions (some people in traditional muslim clothing, to whom i found myself giving a ‘hey, how’s it going fellow outsider’ type of look, until i felt like an insensitive idiot, and realized it’s probably a bit different and maybe more difficult thing for them), and different sexual orientations (i saw a same sex couple for the first time since i’ve been here). i also (FINALLY) saw some tattoos and piercings. i also saw an Indian restaurant and a Spanish bar! i’m definitely heading back for those. (i actually ate lunch at a Chinese restaurant, by accident, thinking it was Japanese food, and all my fears about eating out without someone to translate were confirmed. even though the menu had pictures and English translations, the vegetarian things i tried to order had meat in them. i tried to eat around the meat, but even still didn’t feel too great afterwards.)
 i stumbled upon an awesome little used book/record/art shop. normally, i don’t go into the little bookstores because, you know, i don’t read Japanese. but, i noticed this one had records. they had a ton of awesome ones, for really cheap. i’ve never bought old vinyl records in the US, but they had Beatles records for $10. that’s got to be pretty good, right? i ended up getting some awesome art there. i got this picture and a little book with some cool pictures in it that i’m planning to cut up and make something out of.

 and to finish the day, i sat at a little French café with a fruit parfait and cup of coffee, writing down all the great things i had seen/heard/experienced/tasted/etc.

if you’ve made it all the way through this post, i thank you! i’m not one to be brief with words, when i actually take the time to sit down and type them out. obviously, i had a great couple of days. along with a bbq with some coworkers tomorrow, i’m wrapping up a great vacation week. and although it’s been nice to have the time off to rest, adjust, explore, and bike, i’m also pretty excited to go back and see the kids.

sayonara!

ps-i've put together a fun little video about my life here so far, but i need a good internet connection to upload it. so, next week, when i get to work, i should be able to post it.

the paradox of choice

2011-05-01T05:53:00.004-05:00

a few days before leaving for japan, i was trying to explain to someone that one thing i was excited for was to be somewhat limited in the way i would live. i was excited to go to place where i didn’t know the language or the customs, and this would cause me to have to “make do” in a lot of ways, because i wouldn’t be able to just do whatever i felt like or wanted. i think this very much relates to some of my other traveling experiences, especially sri lanka. after coming back from that experience (which i long for in many more ways and for many more reasons than these restrictions), i think i really struggled with being in such a huge and amazing city like Chicago, with a (for me) well-paying job, and not many responsibilities. i am, of course, not trying to complain about this situation at all. of course it is a privilege to live such a rosy existence. and i attempted to appreciate every moment of it. however, it was difficult. and by the springtime (especially when i had quit my job in anticipation for japan and was waiting for everything to finalize) i found myself, rather than using the time and exploring the city, sitting in my apartment a lot. i felt like i was constantly on overload from various stimuli in every direction. hence the desire to go somewhere where i don’t have to constantly decide what i should do or eat, etc, because there are a very limited or no options—i just do what i can, eat what’s available, shower when i can, wear whatever clothes i happen to have.

and at first, this was the case here in japan, and it was pretty great. i got my food from the same couple places because they were the only ones i knew. i went to the same couple stores because they were the only ones i could find my way home from. i used the few, crappy items in my apartment because i had no money and no idea about how/where to buy anything at all. and it was great.

but, as i’ve grown a bit more comfortable and had a bit more time to explore and experience, of course, these restrictions have increasingly fallen away. but, rather than open up a lot of new opportunities, as you might imagine, i’ve found it’s had a bit of a different effect. it has paralyzed me, much in the same way things did in Chicago/iowa/etc. for example, since the day i first arrived in my apartment, i told myself, ‘i really need some shelves or drawers, even crappy plastic ones, to organize some stuff—like clothes, papers, electronics, kitchen or bathroom stuff. and here i am, almost 3 weeks later, and still without. have i not found any, you ask? quite the opposite. i’ve gone to probably 10 different stores (no exaggeration) that have this selection or more:

and every time, i end up thinking, “goo! i have no idea which of these would be best. it would be nice to have bigger ones, but i’m not sure they’ll fit very well in that part of my apartment. i better go home and think about it some more. i don’t want to waste $50 on drawers and then end up wanting to buy something else.” and so, i continue to leave with nothing. i shit you not, i have done this 5-10 times in the last couple weeks.

and in addition, i find that it frustrates me way more than i ever would normally be, when i can’t find something i really want. for example, i have gone out a number of times looking specifically for a reading light/desk lamp, to put by my bed so i can read at night without the big overhead light on. and i swear to you, it is like finding an iowan in japan (like that? i was also going to go with "finding a sumo wrestler in iowa"). the things seem to not exist here. the couple that i have found were over $60. for a little reading lamp. absolutely ridiculous. and not relative to the prices for other home-type items. and if, for example, i had looked for this in sri lanka, i wouldn’t have been at all disappointed in not finding it at the one little grocery store i went to a few times. and in fact, i did read by the overhead light and got up to turn it off every night. and i got used to it quite quickly. but because i know that inexpensive reading lights MUST exist here, i am super frustrated every time i go into a store and walk out without one. (for the record, i did buy an annoying little clip-on light today for $30 that will probably (hopefully) be replaced some day. so, when i do make a choice, i'm not happy with it because i know there are others). here are some of the other many, many, many things there were to choose and choose and choose from, just from TODAY's trip to ONE store:

another reason i think i am thinking about all of this so much currently is that i am currently reading infinite jest by david foster Wallace, which is—among many other things—about the hyper-consumerism of modern times and how we are constantly being marketed to. and how nearly everything is available for purchase. and this may be even more true here than in Chicago. it is ridiculously overwhelming. there are signs/ads everywhere. and they are big and bright and loud. the book is amazing, and i am planning to do a future post on it, as i continue working on it. (today i had a thought, though, that, “my best friends right now are characters—albeit great ones—in a novel. a teenage tennis player and a drug rehab house worker.” is that weird?)

and as i’ve been thinking about all this, i came across the following video the other night. and i think it describes EXACTLY what i’ve been feeling. it is the fact that choice is not necessarily better, but rather can be quite paralyzing. there is so much EVERYWHERE here. there are huge department stores on every corner. there are countless bag stores, book stores, shoe stores, stationary stores, restaurants, cafes, electronic stores, etc, etc, etc, just on my 15 minute walk to and from the train every day. watch the video here:

and so, with that in mind, i have been recalling again some of the reasons why i was so incredibly happy in sri lanka. every day, i got up, wore whatever i had, drank instant coffee, ate whatever was prepared for me, went wherever i was taken, talked to whomever i was around, dealt with whatever the weather was doing, was in my room by 8pm, read whatever i books i had, and went to bed. it was simple. and beautiful. and i had lovely people to spend it with. and i’m not saying that i won’t be able to make it work here and that i won’t be just as happy as i was there or Chicago or anywhere. but it is so very different. and it will take some extra adjustment. and some damn decisions. lots and lots and lots of decisions. chances are, when people come to visit me in 6 months or more, i’ll still be storing things in plastic bags and suitcases. i’m cool with that.

oh, and the big decision for this coming week, when we have national holidays all week and i don’t have to work at all: a bike. luckily, money will be a big factor in that. it’s a decision i’m almost excited for, though!

damn, i love a man in a baseball uniform.

2011-04-24T06:12:00.002-05:00

today i had such a wonderful day. although i am coming to enjoy my work with the kiddies, i still love a good day off to explore, learn, be alone, and be quiet. (this last element being quite important now that i'm a preschool teacher.) highlights from the day:

-i slept in until 9 AM!!! this is huge for me. between jet-lag and work, i haven't slept past 630 yet. so, 9 was awesome. (although it did require me staying up until midnight to do so...)
- i went for a run in the beautiful sunny weather and discovered a new route. i decided i shouldn't try to find new routes during the week, because if i get lost, i'll be late for work. so today, i had a great time exploring. and listening to lupe fiasco while i did it. what more could i ask for?
- after some cleaning/organizing/communicating, i set out for the city art museum. it was a beautiful walk. the museum was very cool, but everything was in japanese, so i really had no context. this included the main exhibit, which was a historical tour through a certain type of narrative art in japan. it was awesome to look at the paintings, but i had little to no idea about timeframe/artist background/etc. there were some modern pieces that were absolutely stunning though.
- i peed in a hole in the ground. i didn't notice the difference between the "japanese style" and regular stalls in the bathroom, and once i was in, i felt really weird going out and back in line (at the museum). so, i went for it. it didn't go well. i won't go into more detail... but seriously, why do they still have those? any country that can use the type of toilet in my apt with more buttons than a remote should have no use for hole-in-the-ground toilets.
- i found a baseball game!!! this was, without a doubt, the top highlight of the day. it could have been high school, but i think it was more like an adult city league or something. they had very nice uniforms, but the game seemed pretty informal. maybe it was just a practice game or something.
- i tried some sweet potato ice cream. well, i think it was. but since it was in japanese, i'm not really sure. it was good, but nothing too amazing or different.
- i sat at a great little cafe, had a beer from a local brewery, and read a book. so lovely.
- i stopped in a shop on the way home called 'kaldi coffee bar.' it was amazing. anybody who's lived abroad knows that when you do so, it is vital to find some places that just make you feel comfortable. i've mentioned starbucks before. this place overtakes that. except it's a store, so i can't just hang out there. but, they have surprisingly inexpensive things from all over the world there, including a lot from latin america. and i think the theme is supposed to be primarily latino, because they were playing salsa and tango music! i was totally salsa dancing in the aisles, hoping someone would ask me (in spanish, ideally) if i'd like to go salsa dancing sometime at some nearby bar! didn't happen, but i won't give up... the store also had--popcorn, cheap wine, chips and salsa, and graham crackers! it was pretty great. oh! and the girl at the register spoke english to me! as someone who really didn't like it when people spoke english to me in latin america, i realllllly appreciate it here. at least for now.
- on the last leg home, as i was walking, totally stoked from an awesome day, a teenaged girl kind of jumped out from her group of friends, in front of me, smiled, and said, "herrow!" (i feel i can make fun of the accent because it's completely legit. and it makes sense, because they don't have a difference between Ls and Rs in japanese.) i was caught off guard but i laughed and said, "hello!" they thought it was pretty funny.
- i went to a department store and found a huge music store, including a room of pianos and many walls of guitars! after a bike, i think a guitar will be coming.
- and now, i'm sitting in my apartment, listening to lauryn hill, drinking red wine, writing, and reading. it's kind of awesome.

one kind of weird thing i really noticed today is that i have a tendency to feel a bit sea-sick in my apartment, because there have been aftershocks almost every day for the past 5 or 6 days. so, i'm constantly thinking that the place is moving, even when it's not. it's really weird. i can't imagine how people live like this all the time. especially if you've been traumatized by an earthquake in the past.

i just bought and read a collection of stories by one of my new favorite authors, haruki murakami, called 'after the quake' that he wrote in the 1990s after the huge kobe earthquake. it's really interesting to read within my current context.

i hope you are all well. please email me updates/anecdotes/pictures/etc.

discovering more.

2011-04-20T03:51:00.000-05:00

rilke in a letter to a friend:

Oh, the joys of travel! To feel the excitement of sudden departure, not always knowing whither. Surely you and I are in agreement about that. How often did my life seem concentrated in that single moment of departure. To travel far, far—and that first morning's awakening under a new sky! And to find oneself in it—no, to discover more of oneself there. To experience there, too, where one has never been before, one's own continuity of being and, at the same time, to feel that something in your heart, somehow indigenous to this new land, is coming to life from the moment of your arrival. You feel your blood infused with some new intelligence, wondrously nourished by things you had no way of knowing.

first pictures.

2011-04-19T01:39:00.002-05:00

check them out on facebook! or here, if you don't have an account.

i hope this gives some slight idea!

a world of fascinating.

2011-04-18T05:46:00.001-05:00

konichiwa! i have officially been here in japan for 4 whole days. it’s really hard to believe that it’s only been 4 days. i’m not sure if this will make the majority of you happy or sad, but i already feel really comfortable here. not in a “i look anything like anyone here” sort of way, but in a “i could see myself having a really nice life here for a while” way. (sorry, mom.) and i’m sure that this will wane, as these types of feelings always do. but, since it’s such a different situation from my other times abroad, in that i’m super independent from the start (although, thank god for my coworkers who have already helped me a ton. there are so many ways i would have been screwed had they not been willing to help), i’m working full-time right away, i know NONE of the language, and i’m committed to at least a year from the start. with all those things in consideration, it’s really comforting to have even a moment of feeling like i could be comfortable here for at least a year.

some things i think might be contributing to that:

--the independence. i’ve loved all the people who cared for me in my past living situations abroad, but it also feels great to be able to create my own life here from the start. i have SO much to learn, and that’s a bit harder without a “host” family, but being able to come home to my apartment after a long day, have a beer made from sweet potatoes (really!) or a glass of santory whiskey (thinking of bill murray, of course) and read a book is a great, great feeling.

--feeling a bit ignored in public. i know, it seems crazy since i do, of course, stick out. yet, i feel like people are definitely used to seeing white people (although there aren’t many around right now). so, i’m not such a spectacle like i was in sri lanka. and so far, the men aren’t nearly as forward as latin America (or Chicago, for that matter), so sometimes i really do feel nearly ignored when i walk down the street. people look, but then look away as if bored. i kind of love it. i feel like i finally get to be a bit of a fly on the wall, rather than the freak that everyone is staring at. i wonder if perhaps this also has to do with the general state of the country right now, post-disaster. i’m not sure if it’s a huge factor, but i wonder if people are just generally somewhat preoccupied with that.

--my job and my coworkers. although it was a bit overwhelming to be with a bunch of kids speaking a different language the two days immediately after i landed, i think i am going to really love my work at the ymca here. the kids were really sweet and fun, and my coworkers are amazing. i really think i am going to like it there. and after a couple days off (Sunday and Monday are my days off), including some lesson planning and lots of japanese studying, i’m really looking forward to the beginning of my week!

some things i’m a bit nervous/hesitant about:

--japanese is hard! i’m LOVING studying it so far, but it’s really really tough and different. and there is way less English here than i was imagining. including signs, food, etc. as a vegetarian, it’s tough to buy food because i have no idea what’s in it! at least in sri lanka, a lot of labels were in English too. (and someone was cooking my food for me, i guess…). but today, i learned of a Japanese class for foreigners at a community center, and the flyer was in Spanish! so i’m hoping i’ll be able to learn Japanese and meet latinos!

--granted i only looked briefly at one little beauty shop/pharmacy, but they had NO red hair dye. HUGE uh-oh. why would a country of people with black and dark brown hair need a wall full of black and dark brown hair dye?!?!

--although people don’t seem too phased about it, i do feel like a giant in this country. a pale, red-headed (although that might change) giant. it’s nice that a lot of girls wear really high heels, which genuinely makes me not feel that tall. but that doesn’t do anything for the size of my ass.

as for other notables, i found myself thinking the other day, “how do i write about the interesting things i’ve seen, when EVERYTHING is interesting?” no exaggeration, everything here is different and fascinating! literally, if i made a note of everything, like i’d like to, i would be writing CONSTANTLY. i’ll try to pick out some biggies below. the others will, i’m sure, come up in future posts.

--i would describe the neighborhood i live in (for you Chicagoans, at least) as a mixture of wicker park and Lincoln park, with a little boystown thrown in. there is a lot of super hipster style. a lot of young people. but it’s much cleaner and prettier than wicker park. and there’s some pretty gender-bending styles as well. and some (actually, a LOT of) super short skirts. often paired with long socks. today i saw a super hipster little family, both young parents with really funky clothes, hair, shoes, and glasses, and a double stroller! it took all my strength not to get out my camera.

--there are also salons and coffee shops EVERYWHERE in my neighborhood. the coffee shops i like, of course. (aside (if i were david foster Wallace, this would be an awesome footnote): as i began in chile, i will continue to defend the starbucks business model. throughout the world, i have ALWAYS been made to feel more welcomed and cared for at startbucks than any other business. i’m not even ashamed to say that i’ve already gone a couple times here, and will continue to do so.)

--bikes! i love that people ride them everywhere, and i’m planning to get one myself within the next month or two. but the CRAZY thing is that they don’t lock them up!!! it’s literally almost too much for me to comprehend. today, when i was walking around with my friend/coworker yuko, i kept saying, “but, really? they just leave them there? i don’t get it? why don’t they get stolen???” she replied, “i guess they do, sometimes. but not like America. when i lived in America, i had 2 bikes stolen!” mmm…home sweet home.

--aftershocks. i’ve already felt a couple, and it’s pretty crazy. but, nothing scary at all, actually. i wrote in my journal the other day:

it’s so strange to be constantly aware of the movement of the earth—of the world around me, actually. as i sit in bed and read, with my back against the wall, i can’t tell if the movement i feel is the earth moving or my own heart beating. it sounds a bit terrifying, but it’s also an incredible feeling of connection with the earth.

it sounds a bit cheesy, but it’s really such a unique feeling. some of you may know what i’m talking about.

--the food is really, really good. it’s very different, but good. i will talk more about that when i can put pictures up on facebook. i’ll make sure to put the link here, just in case. (everyone who reads this is on facebook, right? if not, stop reading this and make a facebook account.)

--there really are vending machines everywhere! i’m so glad i don’t have to walk ONE block (no exaggeration, i bet there’s at least one on every block) without a soda, water, coffee, or juice of some sort!

i could probably go on forever, so i will stop for now. this post is already pretty crazy long. but, at least i was able to give the first run-down of my life here. thank you so much for checking in on me. i am doing well. i am happy. if you would like to send me anything (why yes, i love mail and care packages!) my address is:

7-16 Sugawara-Cho #402
Kawagoe, Saitama, Japan 350-0046

i will hopefully be posting pictures on fb soon. (check to the right for a picture of where i live. the pic was taken from my apt window.) and updating here at least once a week. please do send me an email when you get a chance to let me know what is going on with you, how you are doing, and some interesting things you have experienced lately. (and don’t you dare say nothing. even an apple is a swirling mix of protons, neutrons and electrons—so interesting. and delicious.) i would love to hear from you, especially if you’ve taken the time to read all this.

domo arigato. sayonara.

arrived!

2011-04-14T05:43:00.002-05:00

not much time to write now, but i have arrived! i will hopefully be able to write more soon!

and i'm off.

2011-04-12T20:03:00.003-05:00

tomorrow i will officially be heading off to japan! check in here from time to time if you'd like to know what i'm up to (assuming i have somewhere to use the internet). and please email me to let me know what you are all up to! even if it's short, and even if i don't get back to you right away (or ever, let's be honest), i would love to hear from you!

in the meantime, enjoy this little piece of joy:

if the kids i work with are half this cute, i might be dangerously happy.

japanese music.

2011-04-09T00:20:00.001-05:00

here are two videos that are getting me excited for my upcoming move. the first one has been called the "sufjan stevens" of japan. say no more. and the second was an ultimate fighter before doing music. i'm not super crazy about the song, but the video is awesome.

the 'invisible man.'

2011-04-08T16:31:00.002-05:00

watch this video and then check out the pictures, HERE. it's really awesome.

where children sleep.

2011-04-07T23:21:00.002-05:00

i found this project by photographer james mollison really, really interesting.

mystical and nocturnal.

2011-04-06T23:08:00.004-05:00

i recently came across these words from rilke. they perfectly depict why i am so happy to think about 7 days from now, when i will be in a place that i literally cannot even imagine right now. (i fly out april 13th!) it is so lovely to think about whose "world of sound" i will be incorporated into. and who will become part of mine.

"How delicious it is to wake up in a place where no one, no one in the world, guesses where you are. Sometimes I have stopped spontaneously in towns along my way only to taste the delight that no living being can imagine me there. How much that added to the lightness of my soul!

I remember certain days in Cordova where I lived as if transparent, because I was completely unknown. The sweetness of staying in a little Spanish town, if only to relate to certain dogs and a blind beggar—more dangerous, that blind man, because he can read you. But three days later, if he hears you come back toward his church at the same hour, he counts you now as someone who henceforth exists, and he incorporates you into his world of sound.

And there you are, destined to new birth, mystical and nocturnal."

Letter to a friend
February 3, 1923

transitions and salinger

2011-04-03T22:48:00.007-05:00

things are definitely moving! i am currently in chicago, saying some final goodbyes and getting my visa. i am hoping to fly out next week, sometime around the 13th of april. things have been (and continue to be) pretty random, unplanned, and sporadic, but so is life, right? i had a friend ask the other day about my being relatively calm and seemingly relaxed about everything, especially as i was waiting for some paperwork from japan to come. my answer? salinger. i find a lot of peace from franny and zooey, but i've been re-reading 'seymour--an introduction' the last couple days, and it's been great, as always. so, here are some excerpts below. i was going to give some context for each quote, but i think i prefer not to. you should read it. overall, the (fictional) author, buddy glass, is writing an essay about his older brother, seymour, who committed suicide at age 31. i hope you enjoy.

"However contradictory the coroner's report--whether he pronounces Consumption, Loneliness, or Suicide to be the cause of death--isn't it plain to see how the true artist-seer dies? I say that the true artist-seer, the heavenly fool who can and does produce beauty, is mainly dazzled to death by his own scruples, the blinding shapes and colors of his own sacred human conscience."

"Surely he was all REAL things to us: our blue-striped unicorn, our double-lensed burning glass, our consultant genius, our portable conscience, our supercargo, and our one full poet, and, inevitably,...i think, he was also our rather notorious 'mystic' and 'unbalanced type.'"

"...there is evidently one rather terrible hallmark common to all persons who look for God, and apparently with enormous success, in the queerest imaginable places--e.g., in radio announcers, in newspapers, in taxicabs with crooked meters, literally everywhere. (My brother, for the record, had a distracting habit, most of his adult life, of investigating loaded ashtrays with his index finger, clearing all the cigarette ends to the sides--smiling from ear to ear as he did it--as if he expected to see Christ himself curled up cherubically in the middle, and he never looked disappointed.)... The hallmark most commonly identifying this person is that he very frequently behaves like a fool, even an imbecile."

"No, no, I can't stop now. It seems to me, in my Condition, that I'm no longer merely asserting my brother's position as a poet; I feel I'm removing, at least for a minute or two, all the detonators from all the bombs in this bloody world--a very tiny, purely temporary public courtesy, no doubt, but mine own."

"For the faithful, the patient, the hermetically pure, all the important things in this world--not life and death, perhaps, which are merely words, but the important things--work out rather beautifully."

"Were most of your stars out?"

"They may shine with the misinformation of the ages, but they shine."

"all we do our whole lives is go from one little piece of Holy Ground to the next."

why we travel.

2011-04-02T15:44:00.003-05:00

here is another interesting article, along the lines of my last post. the author discusses the fact that travel is about more than just relaxation and "getting away" (for some). Sometimes it's dangerous. But it (almost) always pays off.

progress (or at least the illusion of such).

2011-03-28T21:43:00.001-05:00

not too many definite details yet, but it looks like things are starting to move again towards japan. i will post more when i know more.

until then, it was really interesting to read this article and think about moving to a country going through such an interesting and difficult time. i look forward to learning so much. and seeing politicians on bicycles with foghorns...

kandasamy

2011-03-22T18:58:00.003-05:00

you can tell i'm feeling pretty nostalgic when i'm listening to and watching this. although, i'll admit the belly dancing part is pretty cool. and the 'rapping' is hilarious. i used to sing this in SL all the time, because it was the only "tamil" song i could sing and remember...

and the now keeps coming.

2011-03-21T13:42:00.003-05:00

it's been a while since i've updated here. vast overview: the earth is spinning, some people are suffering, some are laughing, and some are doing both. more specifically, i have moved out of my apartment in chicago and am currently staying at my parents' home in iowa. i was preparing to drop off my stuff, say my goodbyes, and head to japan. however, in light of recent events, my plans are currently on hold. i don't really know anything yet. i'm still planning on going, just not sure when. it was a bit disappointing at first, but considering what has happened and what people are facing in japan, i wouldn't dream of complaining. instead, i'm trying my best to live fully exactly where i am.

some things i have noticed in abundance since i've been here:

--babies. not just my 9(!) nieces and nephews, but others, as well. one day, i went with one of my good friends from grade school and her baby to visit another good friend from school and her baby! lots of babies!

--old people (ironically enough). it's something i always notice when i come to iowa. not that there are more here, i just see them more. i know there are a lot of old people in chicago, i just don't see them. unless they're super rich and come into the restaurant.

--trees. it is so wonderful to smell trees and grass when i go out running. so wonderful.

--big cars. there are a lot of really, really big cars here. and a lot of trucks. you don't see as many pick-ups in the city.

--those shoes with the individual toes. they freak me out a bit, but i've seen them on multiple people here, and i don't think i've ever seen them in chicago. then again, they don't seem like something i would see in a restaurant or in my working-class mexican neighborhood...

general t.t.m.m.h. (things that make me happy):

--riding my bike on the bike trail here--trees and creeks and people that actually look at you and say good morning! lovely.
--playing my parents' baby grand piano.
--hanging with my brothers. i love getting to be with all of my family, but i've known them for 24 years, and for most of those, i was waiting for the day when we could be good friends and just hang out. it never gets old.
--hanging with my sisters-in-law. it's a lot like hanging with my brothers, except they're chicks, so we can talk girl stuff. and we can make fun of my brothers. bastards.
--a family of litero-philes. (i made that up.) when i'm in iowa, especially for a little longer time, my library basically quadruples.
--re-reading the fountainhead by ayn rand. i think it's my spring tradition. challenging and inspiring.

and a new section for the blog, inspired by the lovely megan, crazy shit i saw today (c.s.i.s.t):

--"knight" practice going on the park. full costumes, although the armor was like nerf-ish.
--3, count 'em 3, people i went to high school with in the "engagements and marriages" section of the sunday paper. i should be used to it by now, but it's the sheer volume, i think.

y'all got any good ones?

justice.

2011-03-09T13:41:00.003-06:00

today, while running, i was listening to the new lupe fiasco album. it's pretty different than the last couple, but i really really like it. but the one thing i did keep thinking was, 'he seems so angry.' and as i was thinking more about it, i wound up listening to this video by a chilean folk artist named victor jara. and it's really interesting, because i would say that they are really talking about the same issues--social inequality, racism, etc. but, living in different countries, different generations, and different cultures, they have such different ways of communicating. even if you don't speak spanish, i dare you to watch the jara video below and not find it incredibly peaceful. even in light of the fact that during the coup in chile in 1973, he was kidnapped, tortured, and killed by the regime. he wrote some beautiful things in his last hours. i am not saying either method is better, or that lupe doesn't have every reason to be angry. it's just interesting to see how similar and yet different people can be. that's life. beautiful. compare the videos/songs below.

promises.

2011-03-08T12:17:00.002-06:00

i've been having some fun this morning, reading this poem and watching this video. (yes, yes, i am way behind, yet again.)

fire’s reflection by rm rilke

Perhaps it's no more than the fire's reflection
on some piece of gleaming furniture
that the child remembers so much later
like a revelation.

And if in his later life, one day
wounds him like so many others,
it's because he mistook some risk
or other for a promise.

Let's not forget the music, either,
that soon had hauled him
toward absence complicated
by an overflowing heart....

also, just a quick note: nostalgia is crazy. really really crazy. i'm in the process of "saying goodbye" to my friends and family in the US, and i find myself feeling like i'm saying goodbye to everyone in sri lanka again. and it's pretty horrible. like that process was so impactful to me, that that's all i can relate this to. ah...life.

more love.

2011-03-05T17:09:00.001-06:00

more from rilke:

'love is at first not anything that means merging, giving over, and uniting with another (for what would a union be of something unclarified and unfinished, still subordinate--?), it is a high inducement to the individual to ripen, to become something in himself, to become world, to become world for himself for another's sake, it is a great exacting claim upon him, something that chooses him out and calls him to vast things.'

love and leave. and love some more.

2011-03-05T16:40:00.002-06:00

not only is this an awesome video, but the music is really really great. (and they're wonderful people, on top of it all.) the full album 'sympathy' comes out april 5th. the video was directed by j.m.harper.

inside out.

2011-03-04T22:46:00.001-06:00

pretty inspiring video about how art can change the world.

biutiful. and living the questions.

2011-02-28T22:44:00.006-06:00

this weekend, i saw the newest inarritu movie 'biutiful' starring javier bardem. it is an incredible movie. i don't know much about film theory or production, so i'll refrain from a true review. all i can describe is how it made me feel. at least i can attempt to do so. and i must say, for me, it was nothing short of heartbreaking. it was painful. but yet, it truly was beautiful. the story of not just one person, but many, and how they are truly connected in not only their joy and love, but in their pain and suffering as well.

i came across this picture tonight, and it reminded me of one of the scenes in the film that i found most visually striking. the main character's estranged wife was kissing him, but simultaneously almost falling the ground. it was so strange and unnatural, and it seemed to communicate so much about love and pain and connection. at least to me it did. and this sculpture reminded of me of that scene quite a bit.

as i found myself completely overwhelmed emotionally, during and after watching the film, i began to think about my upcoming travels. one thing i love most about traveling, although it tends to be quite a personal challenge, is the confrontation with things in and about the world that i may not know or may choose to ignore. when pushed out into a completely new place with new people and customs and culture and expressions, it's damn-near impossible to ignore the beauty of how we are all connected.

and as tends to happen these days, this has propelled me back to reading some rilke to find some peace. the first thing i re-read was a piece that includes the following lines, reminding me that the horrors in the world ARE the world.

We are set down in life as in the element to which we best
correspond, and over and above this we have through thousands of
years of accommodation become so like this life, that when we
hold still we are, through a happy mimicry, scarcely to be
distinguished from all that surrounds us. We have no reason to
mistrust our world, for it is not against us. Has it terrors,
they are our terrors; has it abysses, those abysses belong to us;
are dangers at hand, we must try to love them.

this poem, especially the last line, broke my heart tonight in a beautiful way:

It seems
our own impermanence is concealed from us.
The trees stand firm, the houses we live in
are still there. We alone
flow past it all, an exchange of air.

Everything conspires to silence us,
partly with shame,
partly with unspeakable hope.

and as i continued my search, i found this poem again, which i absolutely love. i love thinking about my widening circle.

I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I've been circling for thousands of years
and I still don't know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?

and finally, this incredible paragraph from one of rilke's letters. what a perfect reminder that life is not about solving problems, but about having them. it's not about getting through life to arrive at paradise, but finding the paradise in every day life.

I want to ask you, as clearly as I can, to bear with patience all that is unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves, as if they were rooms yet to enter or books written in a foreign language. Don't dig for answers that can't be given you yet: you live them now. For everything must be lived. Live the questions now, perhaps then, someday, you will gradually, without noticing, live into the answer.

Worpswede, July 16, 1903
Letters to a Young Poet

thank you, friends, family, and 'strangers.' thank you for being part of my widening circle, for letting me be part of yours, and for helping me see that they are one and the same. thank you for being god and allowing me to be so as well.
peace to you.

((and if you're digging the rilke and buddhism themes, you might want to check out this podcast. it's pretty amazing.))

wonderful

2011-02-27T17:44:00.001-06:00

neuroscientist jill bolte taylor on how a stroke brought her to find nirvana. really incredible.

2011-02-21T18:15:00.004-06:00

lately, a lot of people have been asking me how i'm feeling about the upcoming move to japan. i love these people. they love me, and want to know how i'm doing and feeling. but as i'm actively trying not to think too much about my life in japan, it's been somewhat difficult. instead, i've been thinking more about the next month in chicago and iowa, and getting to spend it with the wonderful people i have in my life.

i have, however, been thinking about the topic of saying goodbye. and this (like most things, to be honest) brings me back to sri lanka quite a bit. yesterday, i found myself pretty overwhelmed, thinking about the day i left batticaloa. it was an experience i have never, ever felt before, and can't imagine ever feeling again. and in thinking about that, i've been thinking more about why my time there had such an effect on me. as i spoke to my best friend there, sampath, last night, i was obviously reminded. but, i've also been reading through some of the things i wrote while i was there. the piece below is something i wrote after attending a funeral service with the boys and girls i worked with. i think i never posted it before (as far as i can remember) because i was a little uncomfortable due to security reasons. but, i don't see that as an issue now. and i think it portrays a bit of why my time there was so completely life-altering for me. and why i love to experience other cultures/realities...and realize that it is all the same one. (if i've already posted this, forgive me.)

23 july 2010

i can honestly say i never thought i’d find myself (interesting phrase) trying to write about what it was like to go to a funeral with a group of former child soldiers. but the experience today weighed on me so heavily—in an almost literal sense—that i will try to put it into words (another interesting phrase).

the deceased was the brother of father paul, the director of the organization here that runs the children’s home. he had just celebrated his 80th birthday and, i believe, died at home with his family. when i heard about his passing, my first thought was what he must have seen in his 80 years. with my cultural lens, i might think of WWII, the moon landing, the cold war, or amazing technological advances. i wonder how many of these things and events he was honestly even aware of. instead, he saw his country’s independence from colonizers. he saw the rise of ethnic strife as the country attempted to form their democracy. he saw this fail miserably, and the 30 years of civil war that ensued. and he saw this civil war declared over, knowing full well it was not over, as his people, whom he’s known and been and been with for 80 years, continue to be oppressed and abused. i wonder if he died at peace with his country, or if he was worried about the violence that’s bound to continue, to affect his children, grand children, and great grand children (those that are still living after the war and tsunami that have killed a significant portion of the population).

when the huge bus carrying myself, a few staff people, and the 50ish former CS pulled up to the house—which may have been a funeral house, or simply someone’s home, i’m not sure—i had very little idea of what i would be doing or seeing. i had gone to an ‘8th day memorial service’ about three weeks before, but since this man had just passed a couple days ago, i knew this would not be the same. we filed off the bus and in through the iron gate, above which hung a banner with the man’s picture, dates of birth and death (almost 80 years to the day), and a few other words in tamil script that i couldn’t read. we entered the yard area, and slipped off our shoes in the sand by the door, and then proceeded through an aisle of plastic chairs towards the actual house. i was about the 10th person to enter the house, after the female staff woman and a few of the girls. the man was laying on what looked somewhat like the inside of a casket would, but much wider and with no lid. it was quite startling, actually, as i wasn’t prepared to actually see the body. he was indescribably frail, to the point that i was wondering (and continue to wonder) if maybe only his head was actually his, and his body was below a
baggy suit that had been poorly stuffed to look like it contained a body. the feet literally looked more like long rocks than feet, which was what most made me question that it was his real body. a sheer white veil lay over his face, and his hands were covered with white gloves, both creating a strong contrast with the dark suit, which literally looked almost empty. the fabric of the bed was also white and satiny, in a very casket-like way. i looked briefly at him, to take this all in, and then moved as far back as possible to make room for all the kids. as i moved back, i ended up in the only other doorway, which opened to another small room where a man was sleeping (or seeming to, anyways) on a plastic mat on the cement floor. i’m not sure if he was part of the family or perhaps a worker to oversee the visitations, but he was extremely gaunt and dirty. in fact, as i saw him lying there, i couldn’t help but think that he almost emitted a feeling of death more than the corpse in the other room.

back in the main room, there were about four to five feet of space from the outside of the bed to the walls of the room, making it nearly impossible to fit almost 60 people in any type of respectable way. i gladly moved towards the back to allow more of the kids to enter. once the majority were at least to the doorway, the auntie (female staff) took out her bible to lead a few prayers. she then passed the bible to one of the older girls, who led a couple songs that the other catholic kids sang along with. as we stood in silence, and then they prayed and sang, i gazed around the room with such curiosity that i hope my face didn’t show it. what were these kids thinking? (‘kids’ is really a misnomer, since they are anywhere from 13-25.) what is death to them? do they see it at all similarly to me? what were their eyes actually seeing? some of these young men and women—maybe even most of them—have killed people. some have killed children, or old men like this one. most have watched someone be killed, or experienced the death of a loved one. all know of violent deaths. a couple of them were crying, although none had ever met this man before. was it because of this overwhelming presence of death in their young lives? were they thinking of the things they’ve seen and done? or were they not thinking of these things at all? were they thinking of the fact that this man was able to live 80 long years—that he survived this life that they’ve worked so hard to make it through so far?

after a few short minutes in the house, we again went out to the yard area and sat huddled together in a mass of plastic chairs. after a couple minutes, a young man came around to give everyone a bottle of coke with a straw. as we sat and sipped, some chatting quietly, some of the same kids that had been crying in the room were now smiling or giggling (not disrespectfully), talking about something unrelated. was this an active attempt to forget what they had just seen and occupy themselves with something easier, happier? or was it just the way their minds functioned, easily moving from tragedy to recovery, being the only way they could have possibly survived for this long? and if so, what does that mean? about them and the reality they know? about me and the reality i know?

on the bus on the way home i sat next to one of the younger girls who tends to hang on me consistently when i am at the children’s home. on a normal basis, it has gotten somewhat annoying, as she quite literally uses me as climbing toy. but as we were bouncing along the partly-paved road, i found myself gripping her hand as if she was trying to get away. holding it as if she was slowly drifting away. grasping it as though it was the only thing that could save me from some unknown threat. as if letting go would have some type of horrific consequence. she recognized my somewhat rare return of affection and put her head on my shoulder. i bit my lip and looked out the window to keep from crying. i held her hand stronger to keep from screaming. i held on the entire way home, hoping that it might provide some answers, some peace.

the adventure continues

2011-02-10T13:17:00.002-06:00

as many of you already know, about two weeks ago, i accepted a position with the ymca of japan, in a city called saitama, just outside of tokyo. i will be teaching in a full-time international preschool program in the y. i have tried to call as many people as possible to tell them firsthand, but if this is the first you're reading about this, i'm sorry. anyone who would take the time to read this is important to me, and i'd love to see you and hang out before i go!

FAQ:

- when do i leave? mid-march. no official date yet, and i'm not positive of my schedule for the next month before i go. i'll keep everyone up to date.

- how long will i be there? at least a year. they would like me to stay longer, and i would like to as well. as long as everyone is happy after a year, i imagine i'll stay for longer.

- do i speak japanese? no. none. but i didn't speak tamil, either, when i went to sri lanka. this is the joy of traveling! what an awesome challenge. i'll figure it out eventually...

- do i know anyone there? no. but the woman i'm working with/for seems AWESOME, according to our skype conversation. and i've already had a lot of people put me in contact with friends/family members there. so, i will have some people i "know" when i arrive.

- do i know how much i'm going to stick out when i'm there? (seriously, a LOT of people say this to me.) yes. i'm a white woman, almost 6 feet tall, with bright red hair. i stick out in chicago. i stuck out in sri lanka, where some people had never seen a white person before. i think i can handle it... (and i'd be lying if i didn't admit i kind of like it.)

- can you come visit me there? of course! it's fun to be going to a place where people actually want to visit! ha. once i'm there and established, we'll start making plans! i plan on climbing mt fuji at least once, so let me know if you want in!

- have i started preparing? no. not really. it's too far away for me. i've started working on my visa application, and i've started mentally organizing my things to sell/give away/store, but that's about it. i've also watched 'the cove,' 'lost in translation,' and a documentary about hiroshima. interesting choices, i know...

this is a strange time for me. as many of you know, i try to actively live life very "present-ly". so, i don't do well with impending transition. but, i'm pretty happy with my decision to not really think too much about japan yet. the reality is, i have no idea what my life will be like there. so, setting expectations will only be setting myself up for disappointment. i will make the necessary preparations, but i'm not going to start imagining what my life might be like. i did the same with sri lanka, and i found a life there in which i was happier than i had ever been before. ever. i'm not expecting that with japan. i'm not expecting anything.

in fact, the truth is that i am not promised a thing, including tomorrow. so, i may not even make it to japan. who knows? something may happen. the world is a big, crazy, messy, beautiful thing. trying to predict what will happen is just as crazy. all we have is right now, this moment. so, i will continue to sip my coffee, warm my toes by the heater, and listen to 'the national', and then get ready for work.

all that being said (and this is why this is a somewhat difficult time for me), i am aware that if all does go through with the move, then i would like to spend time with all the wonderful people in my life as much as possible in the next month. i try to value every moment with people, but it's a bit more obvious now, i guess.

so, call me! let's hang out! or talk! or dance!

thank you for reading, and caring, and loving, and dancing.

accepting the absurd

2011-01-24T22:36:00.001-06:00

"Thus I draw from the absurd three consequences, which are my revolt, my freedom, and my passion. By the mere activity of consciousness I transform into a rule of life what was an invitation to death, and I refuse suicide."

“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.”

--albert camus

velakari

2011-01-16T16:03:00.004-06:00

in light of the devastating recent events, i've been thinking even more about sri lanka again. and so, as i was getting out the few dvds and things i have from there to watch and listen to, i decided to youtube my favorite tamil movie again, and i finally found it! my best friend, sampath, gave this movie to me and made me watch it. it's about a british girl that goes to india when she's young and falls in love with a goat-herding native, and she learns tamil culture for him. but then she has to return to england. and when she's old, she goes back to try to find him, but he's died. sampath and i used to laugh that i would go back to sri lanka in 60 years to look for him, my sri lankan brother, but he would be dead. he found that part a little funnier than i did, but considering the life he's known, his sense of humor is understandably a bit different than mine. i told him there was no way i was waiting that long to go back anyways, so it didn't matter...

this scene is our favorite scene/song (specifically from 0:30-6:00), where he takes her around and shows her his culture, and she begins learning tamil. it's pretty cheesy, but so so so wonderful. and some parts of the scene are really beautiful.

also, in case you're wondering. sampath and his family are doing "okay." meaning, they're alive and have food--for now. however, everything in the area is pretty destroyed, which means they will have to start the re-building process yet again, just like after the war and then after the tsunami. sampath sent me these pictures of him and his daughter at his house...

i think the hardest thing about this all is being so far away. the desire to just be there is pretty overwhelming. even though i couldn't do anything and would really just be in the way, i would give anything to hug them all right now. or just hold their hands and look at them, like i did constantly for my last few days there. but of course, when i did get to talk to one of the boys the other day who doesn't speak english, and i kept saying "thannir?! thannir?!" (water), they laughed and said, "yes, sister, water everywhere. but we are okay." nothing reminds me of what it means to be alive like their laughter.

i hope to continue to try to live my life remembering that i am guaranteed nothing more than what they have--not one more privileged minute. and to laugh constantly. and, of course, to dance.

a morning inventory

2010-12-18T10:07:00.002-06:00

here are some of the many lovely things i'm experiencing right now! i try to stop whatever i'm doing and do this type of inventory at least once a day. it's a great way to stay present.

hearing:
this song by theophilus london. can't wait for his album to drop! i highly recommend watching some of his other videos as well.

seeing:
a mess of books and high heels scattered about my room.

smelling:
morning coffee. one thing that's even better in the winter!

tasting:
honeycrisp apples from the market across the street.

feeling:
a morning where i opt for yoga instead of running. it felt great!

knowing:
my brother and sis-in-law that are currently in ethiopia have safely arrived there and met their baby daughter! i'm so excited to hear about every detail of the trip and see more pictures of my newest niece!

i put the eyes on the way

2010-12-17T11:43:00.004-06:00

first off, i thought i would post the video that eventually led me to the video i mentioned in the last post. i've been exploring a lot of similar videos, but i keep coming back to this one. and especially during this time of year, i think it's a good reminder to keep an open mind. to keep wondering with openness.

as anyone reading this knows, i try very specifically to be present and live life as it's happening now. but from time to time, longing still creeps in. and right now, i'm feeling quite a longing for my friends and family in sri lanka. i finally got to talk to my best friend there the other day, after a few weeks of dropped calls, and my little sister, who i haven't talked to in almost 2 months, was there! it was a bit painful to realize how much i've lost my ability to speak tamil, but it was so beautiful to hear her voice. and it led me to do some nostalgic photo-viewing. here's one of me with my best friend, sampath, and one with my little sister, nila.

i then got an email from sampath with a few pictures, and the following text:
i miss you so much.
when will you come sri lanka? I expecting and waiting for you presence.
I put the eyes on the way
Naan santhosam illai ((i am not happy))

i am very happy here, but i miss them. and i miss myself with them.

be here now: t.t.m.m.h.

2010-12-14T22:29:00.002-06:00

--good people. last night, my wallet fell out of my purse at a bar (i wasn't drunk, it just fell off the chair...), but i didn't realize it until this morning. and sure enough, when i called this afternoon, someone had turned it in and they kept it for me until i got off work in the evening. and everything was there. and to top it off, the bartender that gave it back who had glanced at my i.d. to see if there was a phone number or anything, was from cedar rapids, ia! so, i even got to meet a fellow iowan out of the deal. the news is full of people doing horrible things to each other, so it's nice to appreciate something small like this.

--this video, combining two of my most current interests, mindfulness/being present and neuroscience:
building attention

(can someone teach me how to put the video itself on here, instead of just the link to it?)

--meeting new people who lead me to new things. there are few things more exciting, fun, life-giving, sexy, whatever, than someone that reminds me how much world there is to know. i love meeting and knowing people and learning about what they read, listen to, and think. it's a huge reason for writing this blog: the comments and recommendations i get from those who read it.

--a time of year when the same songs are playing everywhere you go, everyone knows them, and they're songs that would otherwise be hated by many people, but most are willing to let it slide for the season. there's something about getting 'oh holy night' stuck in your head for the 23rd year in a row that makes you a little happier, whether you like it or not.

--finally getting to try the tiramisu at the restaurant. totally lives up to the hype.

things that have been making me happy

2010-12-10T12:24:00.002-06:00

BOOKS:

--i just finished 'the corrections' by jonathan franzen. i found it really interesting. it's a pretty intense critique of life in 'midwestern america.' and while i could definitely recognize something, having lived in such a setting for the majority of my life, i could also see some more fatalistic exaggerations, at least in relation to my life. but it definitely did bring up a theme i've been reading/thinking about a lot lately, which is the difference between loving someone because you should (of course you love family, because they're family, right?) and loving someone because you know them well, and love certain things about them. i think it comes out even more right now, during the holidays, when everyone is buying gifts. gift cards and checks are so common, and sometimes i feel like that's such a sign that we don't even know each other. i kind of feel like if someone wants to get me a gift, but doesn't know what i would want, i would much rather them take a few hours, buy me a cup of coffee, and talk to me. (not that i don't like checks, since i could use it to travel...)

it also touches on themes of waiting for and expecting things to change, and complacency. it caused me to think about the fact that nothing at all is guaranteed. i tried to do a post on facebook where i asked people what they would do if they knew they might lose their sight in 24 hours. and people came up with some cool stuff. but, my actual point was to say, "so when you don't do those things, you're assuming that you will have your sight in 24 hours. and that's a dangerous assumption to make." shouldn't we all act as if we might lose our sight tomorrow? or our ability to hear? or our lives? we don't have to do drastic things, just enjoy every color, every crazy laugh or giggle, every smell of morning coffee, etc.

--i've also been on a weird kick of reading/learning about the brain. i read "sum" by david eagleman, which i TOTALLY recommend, and since then, i've been checking out some books and reading some stuff on neuroscience and neurobiology. man, brains are really really interesting.

--i'm currently reading 'a confederacy of dunces' by john kennedy toole, and loving it so far.

--also reading 'the power of now' by eckhart tolle. i heard him on an npr podcast this summer and loved it. it's pretty interesting stuff about being present. pretty similar to zen, with a western focus.

--and of course, still reading rilke. always rilke.

--recently bought, sitting on the nightstand/desk/bookshelf/etc: zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance by robert pirsig, the unbearable lightness of being by milan kundara. please advise if you have thoughts about these or others!

MOVIES:

--i recently saw "white material", a pretty intense french film about civil war in west africa. it's pretty realistic (i imagine), and therefore pretty heavy. but good, with some beautiful cinematography. i'll admit, it was pretty difficult to see some parts after having spent my summer as i did. but it was probably for the best for me to be reminded, i think.

--i discovered netflix. i'm behind, i know. but it's kind of amazing. so far i've only watched documentaries, one about the human body (part of my brain kick) and one about WWII. i plan to watch more.

--i also watch "the lives of others" recently. it's a german film, one an oscar a few years ago for foreign film, about east berlin in the 80s. really interesting, especially since that's something i know very little about.

--i'm hoping to see black swan really soon. i loved the wrestler, and i LOVE natalie portman.

MUSIC:

--sufjan stevens, 'the age of adz'. i'm kind of obsessed (which isn't new for me and sufjan. my love for him grows. it's different, but it's a great album. his lyrics are much more personal and introspective than the past, and the music is a bit more experimental. and i like it.

--black keys, 'brothers'. it's been hailed as one of the best albums of 2010, and i loved their previous one, so after another random person mentioned how great it was to me, i buckled and bought it (not sure why i ever resisted, actually). it's really really great.

--kanye west, 'my beautiful dark twisted fantasy'. say what you will about kanye, but i still kind of love him. i passed on 808s and heartbreak, but i figured it was just a phase. he was grieving. people call him a douchebag, and he might be, but i think he knows exactly what he's doing. and i really, genuinely like the new album. and not just because nicki minaj is the first voice on it.

--erykah badu, 'new amerykah part 2'. i saw her live last week and she was INCREDIBLE. for some reason, i hadn't bought the newest album yet, but the show was definitely inspiration enough. i must say, though, that she sounds better live than recorded. and she has the most amazing ass i've ever seen. seriously, incredible. i want to be her.

OTHERS:

--i've put the bike up for a while, i think. it makes me sad (and feel a little weak, since i know a lot of people that are still going), but i've been enjoying riding the train again. other than having to pay for it, i love people watching. (okay, and sometimes reading...).

--i've also returned to the ymca in my 'hood, since i can't run outside anymore. and honestly, the y runs in my blood. no exaggeration, and no one's paying me for this, i love being in a y.

--work is still going well. it's getting pretty crazy right now, but i'm still loving it. and i'm going in to have dinner at the restaurant soon, which i'm pretty excited about!

what books, movies, music, life things are you loving right now?

reflections.

2010-11-30T20:02:00.002-06:00

a little over 3 years ago, i started this blog. at the time, i was a wide-eyed 20-year-old, about to leave the only country and culture i'd ever known. since then, i have lived in 3 other countries, traveled through many others, seen incredible things, and experienced the luminous souls of innumerable people. and now, as a wide-eyed 23-year-old about to turn 24, i'm reading and listening to some interesting things that are leading me to reflect a bit on how/how much i've lived in these past few years. (i originally wrote 'changed' instead of 'lived' in the previous sentence, but isn't that life? changing?)

currently, i'm listening intensely to sufjan stevens' new album, the age of adz. specifically, i'm re-playing the final song, a 22-minute masterpiece (in my opinion) called 'impossible soul.' some of my favorite lyrics from the song:

It's a long life, only one last chance
Couldn't get much better, do you wanna dance?
It's a good life, better pinch yourself
Is it impossible? Is it impossible?
Boy, we can do much more together.

also, i've been reading some more rilke again, and this poem really overwhelmed me:

fire’s reflection

Perhaps it's no more than the fire's reflection
on some piece of gleaming furniture
that the child remembers so much later
like a revelation.

And if in his later life, one day
wounds him like so many others,
it's because he mistook some risk
or other for a promise.

Let's not forget the music, either,
that soon had hauled him
toward absence complicated
by an overflowing heart....

if i could try to sum up SOME of the last 3 years in a pretty, well-packaged lesson, it might be to not mistake some risk or other for a promise. we do it so often, don't we? all the while, forgetting the music. and our overflowing hearts.

also, this is an excerpt from a short piece of rilke's called 'fear of the inexplicable':

"But only someone who is ready for everything, who excludes
nothing, not even the most enigmatical, will live the relation
to another as something alive and will himself draw exhaustively
from his own existence. For if we think of this existence of
the individual as a larger or smaller room, it appears evident
that most people learn to know only a corner of their room, a
place by the window, a strip of floor on which they walk up and
down. Thus they have a certain security. And yet that dangerous
insecurity is so much more human which drives the prisoners in
Poe's stories to feel out the shapes of their horrible dungeons
and not be strangers to the unspeakable terror of their abode."

in this, my 25th year, i will choose to exclude nothing, and be ready for everything. i will not learn only my corner, or my strip of the floor, but will seek everything, even the most enigmatical. and by doing this, i will try to live all relations to others as something ALIVE, and draw exhaustively from my own existence.

and finally, this last poem also spoke to me deeply (and i don't think it's only because of my love of little red dresses.)

child in red

Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.

She runs a bit, hesitates, stops,
half-turns around...
and, all while dreaming, shakes her head
for or against.

Then she dances
a few steps
that she invents and forgets,
no doubt finding out that life
moves on too fast.

It's not so much that she steps out
of the small body enclosing her,
but that all she carries in herself
frolics and ferments.

It's this dress that she'll remember
later in a sweet surrender;
when her whole life is full of risks,
the little red dress will always seem right.

may we all live in a way that lets all we carry in ourselves frolic and ferment.

and everyday, let's dance a few steps, that we invent and forget.

we can do so much more together.

do you want to dance?

even when they got us pinned, we're laughing.

2010-10-30T22:44:00.006-05:00

i have recently been loving this song by nathaniel rateliff: laughing

i'm also loving my friends' bands louis and the hunt and scattered trees. both come highly recommended.

other things i've been loving lately:

- cooler weather for bike rides.

- living in a mexican neighborhood during halloween. the dia de los muertes murals on every shop window are enough, but the spirit in general is pretty great. i wish i was going to be around during trick-or-treating tomorrow.

- riding my bike around the city during halloween. i'm not a huge halloween person myself, but there's something about these couple days/nights that i love about the city. it's a few days when nothing is unexpected or unexplained. people can look/do almost anything and it can be explained away. it's a little bit like living in a surrealist painting/movie.

- finally really getting into 'atlas shrugged' by ayn rand. it took me almost to page 700 to really get in the groove, but it's been worth it. the most recent underlined quote:
"she felt an odd calm, almost a confident repose; she knew that it was tension, but the tension of a great clarity. she caught herself thinking: she's functioning well in an emergency, i'll be all right with her--and she realized that she was thinking of herself."

and another, since it relates so well to many of my posts in the last month or two:
" 'no one's happiness but my own is in my power to achieve or to destroy'...she did not answer, she felt as if a word would overfill the fullness of this moment, she merely turned to him with a look of acquiescence that was disarmed, childishly humble and would have been an apology but for its shining joy."

- knowing that if and when i finish atlas shrugged, i get to move on to 'the corrections' by jonathan franzen, and i have some great friends and family members to discuss it with!

this week - t.t.m.m.h.

2010-10-23T09:01:00.000-05:00

- dancing to live flamenco music played by an adorable frenchman named david (dah-veed). it was almost not frustrating that i could barely do the steps.

- pumpkin chai

- remember how to say "prendenal valtekal" in tamil--happy birthday--when i called my best friend in SL on his birthday on wednesday

- listening to nathaniel rateliff and louis and the hunt while riding my bike to and from work this week.

- working with great people and getting to laugh a lot at work. even when craaaaazy chileans come in.

- indian food on devon avenue

- a dream in which i was song-writing with lil wayne...

and all at once it is entirely flame.

2010-10-18T10:32:00.000-05:00

re-watching and still loving this video from the film "bodas de sangre" by carlos saura, starring antonio gedes and cristina hoyos. especially starting around 5:30. if/when i can do that, i will do it forever, i think.

watch it here: bodas de sangre

is this how new life begins?

2010-10-12T21:01:00.000-05:00

sometimes i think we have so many pre-established ideas of what would make us or others happy, that when we or they really are, we miss it completely. here is to being happy now, not when you find the right job, or the right person, or the right city. here's to an existence based on the reality that nothing is promised, and tomorrow everything might change. and here is to letting others know that kind of existence as well, not allowing our expectations, hopes, or dreams define their realities.

'the departure of the prodigal son' by r.m. rilke

now to go away from all this tangledness
that is part of us and yet not ours,
that like the water in old wells
reflects us trembling and ruins the image;
from all this, which as if with thorns
still clings to us--to go away,
and on this and this, so near at hand,
which almost from the first you ceased to see
(they were so common, so undemanding),
suddenly to gaze: tenderly, full of amends,
as if in a beginning and from up close:
and to see at last how without least malice,
how over everyone indifferently the hurt descends
that filled childhood to the brim--:
and then still to go, hand leaving hand,
as if you were tearing open a new-healed wound,
and to go away: where? into uncertainty,
far into some unrelated warm land
that behind all action keeps its distance
like a backdrop--garden or wall;
and to go away: why? from urge, from instinct,
from impatience, from dark expectation,
from not understanding and not being understood:

to take all this upon yourself and in vain
perhaps let fall things firmly held,
in order to die alone, not knowing why--

is this how new life beings?

three pounds for a dollar

2010-10-12T20:57:00.000-05:00

i don't do this often, but today i was inspired.

'three pounds for a dollar'

the apples may be getting soft
but to me, they are perfect

as i sit by the window
and bite through the sour green skin,
i can taste
the fading ripeness

as i look outside
i can see and smell the same,
the ripeness of summer fading
into the softness of fall

the sun is still warm
the children are still laughing
the apples are still sweet

and at three pounds for a dollar
who could possibly resist?

2010-10-09T19:56:00.001-05:00

- today, as i was describing to someone about why i was so happy in sri lanka and why i still miss it so much, i explained it like this: "because i could speak very little of the language, i couldn't tell people who i was. i couldn't explain the different parts of me. instead, i just was." and i realized how crazy it is that we don't live that way all the time. and i understood a little better why i sometimes feel like life in our culture is sometimes harder than any others.

- i haven't read all of this article, but what i've read so far has been really interesting:
where to begin

- today, i spent time with a friend with an incredible art collection. the piece that most moved me was by a photographer named jed fielding, from chicago, who has a set of pieces that he took of blind children and women in mexico city. the first picture on the page below, of the boy looking upward, is the one he has. it literally brought me to tears.
'look at me'

- saturday nights at home with a book, a glass of wine, and sigur ros does something to my heart that few other things can.

t.t.m.m.h. 10.7.10

2010-10-07T22:59:00.001-05:00

- eventful morning runs. specifically, almost getting run over by a fork lift, then accidentally scaring the shit out of a homeless man.

- sunny days when everyone is aware that there might not be many more, and so literally trying to soak it up as much as possible.

- people-watching at museums. especially on free days. the art is also good.

- pictures of people smiling who don't normally smile in pictures.

t.t.m.m.h. 10.5.10

2010-10-06T00:05:00.000-05:00

- working at a 4-star italian restaurant and coming home at midnight to a dinner of frozen vegetables and oatmeal. (not sarcasm. i love it.)

- reiteration: riding my bike at night. chicago is so beautiful.

- spending time with intelligent people who challenge the way i think and see the world. and in the process, make me happier to be a small part of it.

- this poem:

'spanish dancer' by r.m.rilke

as in the hand a struck match blazes white
and sends out flicking tongues on every side
before bursting into flame--: in the circle
of packed onlookers, hot, bright, and eager
her round dance begins to flicker and spread out

and all at once it is entirely flame.

with a glance she sets ablaze her hair
and whirls suddenly with daring art
her whole dress into this fiery rapture,
and out of that, like startled snakes,
two naked arms emerge, aroused and rattling.

and then: as if the fire grew tight on her,
she gathers it all up and casts it off
disdainfully, and with imperious demeanor
looks on: it lies there writing on the ground
and keeps on flaming and does not give in--.
but triumphant, serene, and with a sweet
greeting smile she lifts her face
and stamps it out with rock hard little feet.

t.t.m.m.h. - 10.1.10

2010-10-02T17:09:00.000-05:00

- live music. especially the kind you can dance to! and/or when you know the people in the band!

- people you've known for a surprisingly long time, but keep learning more about all the time.

- my neighborhood, pilsen. i continue to love it more everyday.

t.t.m.m.h. - 9.30.10

2010-10-01T15:21:00.000-05:00

- unexpected and amazing conversations that make you remember what life is all about. connecting with people and loving them.

- a fast-paced job with great people.

- riding my bike through the city at night. quite possibly the best way to see chicago.

- quick catch-ups with great friends.

- concord grape gellato. mmmmmmm.

- tina fey and tracy morgan. love me some liz lemon and tracy jordan.

- resiliency, especially in children. especially in one of my nephews, who's currently recovering from a crazy intense surgery. i hope that someday he'll be as proud of me as i am of him right now.

things that make me happy - 9.29.10

2010-09-30T10:19:00.000-05:00

- thrift stores.

- sitting in my big red robe, sipping coffee (such as now).

- live music. i'm going to a show tomorrow night (jesca hoop and the eels), which i'm pretty excited about. and actually, i get to see a friend play with his band louis and the hunt, which will also be great.

- i reiterate: people who love what they do and want to do it really well. (can you tell i'm reading ayn rand right now?)

- accents and languages. i worked last night with a girl who had just moved from italy, a bartender from russia, and a waiter from serbia. and of course, much of the staff is also from latin america, which is awesome because it means i can pretty much speak spanish whenever i want.

things that balance my pleasant existence

2010-09-29T10:53:00.000-05:00

i am still happy. i still love my life. but it doesn't make this article any less difficult or painful to read. this is where i lived and worked this summer. i know many of these girls. they are my sisters. i know their families. they are my family.

read article here.

things that make me happy - 9.28.10

2010-09-28T18:33:00.000-05:00

--riding my bike through chicago. specifically, the moment when i go over the river and try to look down through the bridge to see the water. it's tricky and probably not very safe, but it makes me smile every time.
--people who do what they love and/or love what they do. i don't think they're necessarily the same thing. i think people who know what they love should do it. and for those that don't have the privilege to do so, it makes me really happy to see people loving what they might have to do.
--technology. specifically international phone cards and skype.
--apples. i did something kind of silly on sunday, when i bought a HUGE box of apples at my favorite farmers market. there were probably 60ish apples. but it was only $5! and i actually happened to have my car that day. (it's probably good that when i get impulsive, i generally buy a shit-ton of fruit.) i hope you can't OD on apples, because if so, i'm in for it. any body have any good, cheap, healthy ideas for a bunch of apples about to go bad?
--tights and boots. and the weather that lets me wear them!
--getting a glimpse into (undoubtedly) the next big hipster trend: seeing a guy (yes, pretty hipster) riding a unicycle down the road! completely impressive.
--knowing and using the word "sommalier" and not feeling too pretentious about it!
--getting off work, going to see contemporary art for free, sitting in the sun for a couple minutes to read, and then riding home on my bike. a premium day that made me quite happy.

another transition

2010-08-31T12:36:00.000-05:00

hello, alo, hola, and vanakam.

i am officially back in the states. the journey was long and the transition has been a challenge, but there are a lot of really great things about being back. i've been running a lot, riding my bike, and eating a lot of graham crackers.

i have posted pictures on facebook, which i think most of you can access. if not, please let me know. just for good measure, here is one of my favorite shots of my last minutes in batticaloa, with some of my favorite people in the 3-wheeler that i rode in everyday for over 2 months:

and here are some shots of just some of the lovely people i was able to return to:

everyone in their matching sarongs from batticaloa

some of my new nephews!

and some of my other beautiful sisters:

shakthi!

2010-08-03T01:29:00.000-05:00

there’s so much i could and would love to write about. but for the sake of all our time, i will note some fun/important things:

--as i’ve been able to understand a bit more tamil, the word i’ve seemed to really come to know is ‘velakari’, which means ‘white lady.’ i hear it a lot. i hear it in random conversations of people around me. i hear it as the kids in the village by where i live yell it among shouts of laughter as i walk by. i hear it as i drive by other cars with the window down (usually a quick “…vvvvelakari!” and point as i pass). it’s also gotten fun because i know i’m being talked about and sometimes i can pick up enough of the rest to know what they’re saying. one day i was laying around with the kids and one of the girls said something and i waited a second and then said, “velakari ennay?” (what about the velakari?) they thought it was pretty hilarious. she claimed she was talking about some OTHER white lady. yea, i said, with all these white ladies around, of course you were talking about someone else… :) but at least most of the kids now know my name, so they don’t have to call me velakari. and in fact, the staff guy gets kind of pissed at them now if they call me it. ha.
--but instead of calling me kait or Kaitlin or katalin (or Helen, as they all called me at first), they have given me the tamil name “gowdi.” it is a hindu goddess, i guess, so i took it as a compliment. i kind of like it because they don’t struggle with it as much as they do my real name. so, i may be called one of about 5 different things by different people throughout my day (probably more, actually, that i don’t even understand. i’m sure there’s a tamil word for ‘she who has really great dance moves.’)
--still going with the white lady theme, i’ve been told a couple times now, especially by my closest friend here, the staff guy, that i look just like the girl in this recent tamil movie called ‘madrasa pattinam.’ so, he got the film for me and i watched it the other night (2 ½ hours, only about half in english! ugh.) it’s about a british girl (moi) who goes to the tamil state in India during the 40s, falls in love with a dark, donkey-herding native, learns the tamil culture, but has to return to England when India gets independence. she goes back to find her big strong Indian lover after 60 years, but she finds out he’s dead. so, she goes to his grave, and then she dies. it’s pretty depressing, really. and honestly, i don’t look that much like her, except that i’m white (the big connection for people here, i think) and i’m learning tamil culture—language, clothes, music, etc. i keep saying i want to make it back before 60 years, though. we decided my goal should be 7 years—before i turn 30.
--ok, one more thing about being white here (it just so happens that a lot of funny/notable things happen around this topic)—they are literally just unfamiliar with the whole idea of white skin. for instance, the other day, my friend asked me what happened to my leg, “you have red mark,” and pointed to a circle on my calf. “oh, that’s just because i was sitting with my legs crossed,” i explained. he kind of rolled his eyes as if i was lying and had actually inflicted this ‘wound’ on myself. “it is hard no?” he said, “that skin?” ha! i laughed out loud. he was referring to a few other incidents, like a couple days earlier when i had run into a door and scratched my shoulder (maybe i’m just a spazz). and mostly to a day a few weeks ago, when i thought it would be entertaining to show them that if i lightly scratched my name into my arm with my nail, it would show up for a while. well, i didn’t expect it to show up the rest of the day, and as we walked around the rest of the day, he kept showing it to people and saying something along the lines of ‘look what she did to herself!’ and looking at me like an annoyed, but not angry, father. ha. yes, it is hard, this skin that shows everything.
--ok, new topic—samaposha. it’s this weird dry mix you buy in a bag that contains only (literally, the ingredients list: ) corn, soya, rice, green gram, calcium, vitamin c and b12. (SL has a ban on genetically modified food, and it’s clear from ingredients lists that they hold to it. things are very simply made here—a lot of sugar often, but usually only a few basic ingredients) it’s meant to be a supplementary food of some sort. all they do is mix it with coconut, a little bit of sugar, and warm water to create these dough balls (not shwetty balls, mind you). they taste like whole grain coconut cookie dough. seriously, great. i love it. i eat it almost everyday (i think the housekeeper likes it because she doesn’t have to cook as much). i tried to explain to her that i think the major reason i like it is because of the cookie dough-like texture. i tried to explain, “in America, we make cookies…um…like biscuits (what they call cookies)! but when my amma (mom) and i made them, i was child, we would make only dough and eat dough! so samaposha makes me think of amma!” hahaha, i’m sure something got lost in the translation. or maybe some of their common questions about the American lifestyle were finally explained… haha.
--and just for good measure, i’ll mention that this morning, i set a new record for largest cockroach i’ve ever seen—in the kitchen no less. i’m going to say a good 2 inches, front to back. i tried to play it cool, but when it started scurrying towards me i got a little freaked out. don’t worry though. we both made it without incident.

well, with less than 3 weeks left in the country, my time here is winding down. i had planned to travel a bit in the end, but as i realize that that would mean leaving the people here (and spending money) i’m thinking i will probably just wait until a couple days before my flight to head over to Colombo. my goal now is to just be present here as much as possible, enjoying every smile, every ‘velakari,’ every cup of tea, every bite of samaposha, every draping arm as we lay in the sand, every “i think you no go to America. you stay sri lanka,” every “you go to America, i go too?”, and every sunset more unbelievable than the last (i have pictures to prove it, which will be posted someday).

thanks again for reading. i hope each of you is doing well and enjoying each moment in the peaceful awareness that it will never ever come again.
peace, love, and shakthi (energy) to you!

vanakam!

2010-07-12T00:48:00.000-05:00

Vanakam! Hello!

yes, yes, i’m still alive and well. the only internet access i have on a normal basis is on the blackberry (which hasn't been working as of late), so i can usually read emails and get on facebook, but that’s about it. i finally made one of the staff take me to an internet café by the office, so now i should have a little more availability. i’ll probably still only be able to use it once or twice a week, though. so if you’ve emailed and i haven’t responded, know that i definitely read it and will respond when possible!

it’s hard to put into words how well things are going here. yes, it’s hot. yes, there are little lizards and big cockroaches all around, but other than that, i’m loving it. i love the young people i get to work with. the staff is great. the culture can be challenging at times (i don’t mind eating with my hands, but the feeling of having my food under my fingernails is just not okay. call me ethnocentric if you must.) (also, it’s impossible to feel what our culture would consider “ladylike” or “polite” when you’re literally up to your palm in rice and curry—both elbows on the table because it’s the only way to get good leverage.) (and do they really think that rinsing their hands with a splash of water over a bowl before eating really “cleans” them? no. i think they know it doesn’t, and they don’t care. which i kind of like.) like i said, it can be challenging, but i’ve got the rest of my life to eat with forks and spoons, right? at least i’m starting love spicy food!

other cultural/universal/life things i’ve noticed/experienced:

--they drink their tea very sweet and with milk, which i love.
--like chile, i start every morning with a cup or two of Nescafe (instant coffee). i’m almost ashamed to say that i’m starting to like it. i’ll blame it on the memories attached.
--i’m realizing the vast differences that are possible in a culture where there really isn’t much influence from the western world (comparatively, i guess, to latin America.) that is, India is their US. so some small things that i would never consider being different are different here. usually with body language. for example, as opposed to nodding or shaking their head, people here move their heads side to side, as if they’re going to put their ear on their shoulder, although they don’t go that far. does that make sense? not front to back, like nodding, or swiveling, like shaking a head ‘no’, but side to side. and it usually means ‘ok’. but it looks so close to head shaking, that i often have to remind myself that they’re agreeing with me, or saying “yes”, and not “no.” another thing is movement of waving someone to come to you. that is, if we wanted someone to come over to us from across the room, we would turn our palm up and bring our fingers towards us. (commence the action now, for a visual.) but here, they (not always, of course, but some) face their palm down and fan their fingers, which just looks like a little wave to me. so, when i was in Colombo, trying to get my visa, the one guy in the process that seemed to actually like foreigners (quite a lot actually, especially the white females) was trying to wave me over and i just thought he was waving. so, hoping it would help my quest, i just smiled, batted my eyelashes, and waved back. he looked confused and waved a bit more emphatically and said, “America!” and i realized he was calling me over. ha. i went. he helped. more below.
--it’s kind of fun to start over in learning a new language. it’s challenging, but fun. i haven’t really tried on a new one since 7th grade, so it’s fun to remember the first steps. although, as i begin to actually try to talk a little bit in tamil, i find myself getting frustrated and not wanting to switch to English, but Spanish. like, my brain is already in ‘not english’ mode, so my default is Spanish. it’s kind of nice. i brought a really tough/great Spanish novel to read, but no dictionary. so, i read it out loud to practice, but don’t always know what’s going on (it’s magical realism, so the language is really tough and i’m not sure i would understand what was going on if it were in English…) here’s some tamil for you:
kali vanakam. epadi suhom? nan nalem. enedu payer Kaitlin. enedu vayadu iruvatimoonru. enedu nadu America. eneku amma, appa, moonru anenmahl, moonru anni, ehlu anenmagen, onru enenmagel.
((good morning. how’s it going? i’m doing well. my name is Kaitlin. i am 23 years old. i am from America. i have a mother, father, three older brothers, three older sisters in law, seven nephews and one niece.))
i’m also working on writing and reading it in the actual script. i can pretty much read it now, although i don’t know what i’m reading because my vocab is so small. but it helps with pronunciation to be able to read the words in the actual script. (no, mom, i don’t know the word for “quilter” yet. i suggest you google it.)
--some days, when i’m hanging out with the kids after lunch, they watch these hideous indian movies where the hero is always a guy that looks like ron Jeremy. as in, ALWAYS. he’s probably 40, kind of overweight, and with a big bushy dark mustache. i guess it’s what their president looks like too, so maybe it makes a little more sense. what’s more annoying in these movies is that any female in the movie is ALWAYS whimpering and crying. always. i have yet to see one do anything but cry and wait to be saved. no exaggeration. is it too much to ask for some mr. and mrs. smith-type action every once in a while? i wonder what an Indian version of michel gondry would be like…
--i also noticed that often during movies, the screen is blocked out due to gov’t regulations on tobacco and alcohol. any scene where someone is smoking or drinking is blocked out. can you imagine?
--the people are so beautiful here. seriously. and i’ve had to realize that just as i want to just sit and stare at them, they’re thinking the same about me. i’m so different, that they just want to stare and take everything in. and they do. unabashedly.
--there’s a reason why girls don’t pee standing up. enough said.
--this sign was in a bakery/tea shop: “we eliminate the business of cigarette. for you and your off springs.” if i had off springs, they would be very appreciative, i’m sure.
--bakeries!!! i’ve realized, having traveled a bit more, that bakeries are totally the thing here. very common and very good. sweet breads and spicy fried things abound.
--when i traveled to a more northern town for a few days with some of the staff, i felt very much like i was in ‘entourage: sri lankan Jesuit version’. there was the old Jesuit, to whom everyone catered, the driver, the manager, and the ‘heavy lifting’ guy. who was i? the groupie, i guess.
--the place we went, we stayed in a Jesuit residence and it was CRAZY how much the Jesuit scholastics reminded me of those i knew in Chicago. young, really intelligent, really witty, and very sweet. i only knew a few scholastics in Chicago, but they were SO much like these guys it was crazy. it was also nice because they all spoke really good English. and they talked about the world cup. they also watched it at night, but never invited me (probably because it was in their bedrooms). Jesuits are SUCH teases. some of you know what i’m talking about…
--like i mentioned, i went to Colombo a couple days ago to get my visa extended. it was crazy—although, interestingly enough, it had AC. i think they were deliberately trying to confuse me, send me in the wrong direction. after getting the application form, i found out that although you have to have a credit card, you can’t actually PAY with a credit card, so i had to go down to the atm, which only gives out up to $50 at a time, and all in ones. i needed at least $125 for the fee. needless to say, my money belt (which i was wearing to ensure that i looked very touristy and not at all NGO-y, was kind of bulging after the atm. probably not a great thing.) then, back up to the 4th floor, which they called the 3rd floor, to get my picture taken, and then be pointed in various wrong directions until i could find where i was actually supposed to go for each seemingly unnecessary step. luckily, there was one guy who was quite wonderful—clearly one of those people that loves foreigners, especially Americans. he kept referring to me as “america! America!” i’ll admit, i put my judgment aside and used it to my advantage. and luckily, he was the 2nd to last step in the process, so he kept trying to move along the other steps quicker to help me. it was pretty great. in the end, it only ended up taking an hour an a half to get the stamp, which is actually much less than chile, so that was surprising.
--while in the immigration office, there was a group of british students there, also trying to get visas or something. one girl was in a ridiculously low cut shirt, and i realized how accustomed i’ve grown to the more conservative dress here. granted, this amount of cleavage would have been uncomfortable in an office in the US too, but it was still really weird to see. i found myself cringing a bit, wanting to be sure everyone knew i was not with them.
--i think one of the reasons i most like hanging out with the kids i work with is that i can be totally silly with them, which is such a part of “me”. the male staff member at the center is also great. he’s a pretty young guy, and speaks really good English, so we goof around a lot. it’s good to have someone to feel funny with.
--i’ve only had 2 dance parties so far (that involved other people)—not nearly enough. but it was these two times that i think the kids really started to like me and feel comfortable with me, even if we often can’t really communicate. of course, the dancing is what brings us together…
--the books i’ve been reading (i’ve finished every one i brought at least once) have been surprisingly relevant. the first was david foster wallace’s ‘consider the lobster’—challenging, but really interesting insights on a lot of topics, especially language and meaning. next was ‘everything is illuminated’ by jonathan safran foer, which i read twice in a row—about an American in another country, about war, about atrocities and the way life ‘moves on,’ or doesn’t, afterwards. lastly was ‘you will know our velocity’ by dave eggars—about two Americans traveling, to “exotic” locations. they’re trying to give away money—interacting with the world—documenting the world around them.
--as i mentioned before, people are often not bashful about staring at me. at one place, the women all just sat down on a bench about 2 feet in front of me and stared at me. i know some of it is the fact that we can’t communicate with words, but it was pretty uncomfortable. then, as they sat there in their beautiful, colorful saris and wraps, they struggled to tell me that my plain blue button-up shirt from target was “very beautiful!”
--the reactions to my being from America have been really interesting as well—i’ve gotten “wow” or “my dream country!”—i’ve found that i want to react negatively, yell, “no! there is so much wrong there! so much materialism, consumerism, oppression, exploitation! we just make it look good! you only see movies and sit-coms! it’s not really like that!” but then, i think, ‘well, for me it kind of is. that country has been great to me. it’s offered me unthinkable freedoms, opportunities, and comforts. but if you were to go, 25-year-old, dark-skinned Kishan from SL, it would be much tougher. you would have to work 10x harder than me and would still probably never attain the same levels of comfort i have. no more 10-4 work days. no 2-hour lunch breaks. no morning and afternoon tea breaks. very little contact with your family in SL. and constant suspicion as to whether you are fully appreciative of the once-in-a-lifetime chance you were so graciously given to be in your ‘dream country’.” funny, isn’t it. i’m the one with nothing to complain about, yet want to so quickly and badly. and those who can and maybe should, don’t. or maybe can’t, as they’re busy working their 2-3 jobs. ( couldn’t have a blog post without at least a little jaded cynicism, right?)
--like i mentioned on facebook at one point, we passed elephants, lizards, monkeys, and cows on the highways, for which we annoyingly slowed down, but when we passed some good ol’ deer in town, we stopped the car, shouted, and stared in amazement. i laughed out loud.
--this was my 3rd July 4th out of the country in a row now. i wouldn’t have minded the fireworks in pilsen this year, but i’ve got all my life for fireworks, right?
--work does not start here until 10 am. when i’m in the office and i just try to start talking to the report writer before 10 am, she always interrupts me and says, ‘please, we wait until 10 am? half hour more?” i oblige.

it’s hard not to comment on the current political happenings, but i will try to refrain. read various news sources. use common sense to realize how ridiculous it is. it’s like a mother asking a child if his room is clean, and he says yes. when she says she wants to see the room, he goes on a HUNGER STRIKE and compares himself to ghandi to say how unfair it is. in this case, i think it’s not even that the child is afraid the mother will find out that he’s simply crammed everything from his room into the closet. i think he knows she’ll see that it’s not clean at all. it’s a complete mess and will probably continue to get worse. if you have specific comments/questions, feel free to email me.

ok, that is all for now! that should last for a while, no?

please take care, keep sending me updates and being patient when i don’t respond for a while.
love and peace and really great dance moves to you all,
kait

ps-since internet is increasingly precarious, please email me at both kaitlinrae@gmail.com and kklipsch@heartlandalliance.org, as i can usually only check one or the other...

lizard check!

2010-06-18T09:03:00.000-05:00

varakam! (hello!)

i'm here! i'm happy! i'm writing this on a dial-up connection! (did you even know those still existed?) so, i don't have much time because life's too short to wait for these websites to load!

today i had one of those days where you end it thinking, "i could do that every day for the rest of my life and be completely happy." i awoke with the sunrise (schedule's still a little off from traveling), did some morning yoga and dancing, peaceful breakfast, and then ALL DAY with the young people in the program here. i started by going to the hindu temple, where the girls led me around the weekly rituals. back at the residence, i played a checkers type game with the boys, then sang and danced and played drums with them. then, i had a tamil lesson with the girls (i'm up to about 5 words now--thank you, mother, father, sister, brother--and i did learn how to write my name, Frank, and Terre in Tamil!). after that was lunch, and then a couple of hours of horribly cheesy indian movies with the girls. we always seemed to laugh at opposite times...the afternoon/evening was volleyball (the ball was like a rock, causing me to try to undo nearly 10 years of playing and try to hit it only with my fists...). i can't tell you how wonderful the day was. to be honest, after a couple days in the craaaaaziness and chaos of colombo when i first arrived, i was a bit worried about my time here. i really wasn't a fan. i'll try to write more about that when i have time and accessibility. but since i've left colombo and settled in here, things have been wonderful.

a few firsts of the last few days:
--having to give the toilet seat a little kick before sitting down to make sure there aren't any lizards underneath (their loss if they are, i guess.) my first night, one of the few times i got up to go to the bathroom in the night, i flipped on the light and saw a small lizard chilling in the bowl of the toilet. 'it's cool,' i thought, 'there's another bathroom right here. i'll just go in there.' i kid you not, i switched on the light in the other bathroom and saw another little lizard scurry behind the toilet on the wall. hopefully no one else in the building heard me yell out, "son of a bitch!"
--being in a hindu temple
--petting a baby elephant
--eating a mango straight off the mango tree in the yard
--drinking from a coconut and then eating the inside
--eating rice with my hands! (here, they eat their meals with the right hand--everything! it's actually more difficult than you might think. they usually bring out silverware for guests, but when i'm eating with someone else, i do my best to do whatever they're doing.)

that is just a taste of some of the highlights. thanks for reading! and thanks for all the emails i've recieved already! even if i don't respond (which i probably won't considering my limited access), i LOVE getting them! i'll try to write more and maybe even post a couple pictures if i ever get internet on my computer.

love to all!

disappointment comes from expectations, while peace comes from taking one moment at a time

2010-06-11T16:41:00.000-05:00

this title is an idea i have studied and thought about a lot over the past six months or so. and even more so over the past few weeks as i prepared for this summertime adventure. when i (i can speak only for myself) take the time to really think about it, i think it makes a lot of sense. only when we are expecting something very specific can we be disappointed that it doesn't turn out that way. however, if we choose to take each moment as it comes and to (try to) be fully present in those moments, we cannot be disappointed by a future to which we have not attached expectations.

as i prepare to leave tomorrow, i recognize that of course i have certain expectations for the summer. i expect to be hot. i expect to learn a lot. i expect to be challenged in many ways. and i expect to be really, really hot. but beyond that, i'm trying not to be too specific. rather than be in a state in which i'm constantly evaluating how things are different than what i expected, i hope to be constantly evaluating how things are beautiful, new, ancient, terrifying, life-giving, challenging, and part of a part of me that i have never known and yet known forever.

but, of course, i do expect to learn some new dance moves.

i will try to post when i can. thank you for reading. and please be in touch!

love and peace to you and yours and all.

3 days

2010-06-09T16:31:00.000-05:00

until this:

(photo by Deshan Tennekoon)

it's what i love.

2010-05-21T18:35:00.000-05:00

after a very quick application and interview process and then a pretty agonizing 2 weeks of waiting to hear, a couple days ago i was officially offered a position for the summer months in Sri Lanka!!! i will be working for/with a really amazing international ngo (non-governmental organization) based out of chicago.

i still don't have too much information, but i have a tentative departure date of june 12th and i am incredibly excited. it will be an invaluable experience, and i will undoubtedly learn more than i can imagine--about myself, the world, and the mixture there-of.

hopefully i will have a chance to blog/email every once in a while. but if not, i'm sure i'll have plenty to share when i return in the end of august.

i'll post if/when i know more, but i wanted to make sure to put the word out there, so people that want to know, do! i hope to see you before i leave! i can't make any definitive promises, but call or email if you're around or if you have any other questions.

love and peace to you!

oh, and if you don't already know the musician m.i.a., she's sri lankan and amazing! so check her out HERE and have a dance party for me!

2010-05-16T23:59:00.000-05:00

i haven't been writing much lately, not only for the blog, but just in general. but this weekend, i graduated again. i finished grad school and in an effort to explore and document some of the things i'm thinking and feeling and wondering, i was able to get myself to write for a while tonight. as sometimes happens, it came out as a short dialogue. the writing's not great, but it means a lot to me. and as i read it over after, it reminded me of something i wrote about year ago. the format is the same, but the emotions and philosophies expressed are not, really.

although i'm not one to post creative writing on the blog, i feel compelled to do so for some reason. i would doubt that these short writings would mean anything to anyone else, so i'm not sure i care if anyone actually sees them or reads them. nonetheless, i feel like posting them. to me, they exemplify huge changes and prevailing insecurities. the first, titled dialogue #1, was written about a year ago, in march of 2009, as i was coming to the close of my undergraduate education and weighing my final decisions about grad school and other future plans. the second, dialogue #2, written completely separately of course, was written tonight, the night after graduating with my social work degree and facing a whole other world of uncertainty.

dialogue #1
“Why do you think I’m here?” she asked quickly with a voice attempting calm restraint, poorly masking the intensity with which she wanted an answer. She quickly moved her hand toward her face to take another drag of her cigarette, the other arm still folded tightly around her chest.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly.
“What do you need from me?”
“Nothing,” he whispered.
“But look at you!” Her voice was beginning to betray her. “You’re a mess! There’s almost nothing left of you! What do you mean ‘nothing?’” She was beginning to feel as if emotion, any emotion, only had one way to express itself. Perhaps any intense feeling, by the time it had forced its way through the psyche from wherever it began and reached the level of communication, could only express itself through this choppy language varying widely in volume and sentence length. Or perhaps she only ever felt one emotion anymore.
“What do you think you can do for me?” he offered. It seemed that while her voice was growing more intense, his was fading. It seemed further away to her. In reality, it did not change.
“Well, there obviously must be something I can do. That’s why I’m here, right? That’s what the point is? Look at you. And then look at me. There’s a reason we’re like this.”
“What do you think that reason is?”
“I don’t know! Why do you think I would know? If I did know, would I be asking you? This isn’t something you would know any better than me. But, does anybody really know? I mean, who should I ask? What should I read? People have ideas, I know, but I’ve never really bought those. How do they know so confidently? They can tell the whole world, but do they do it themselves? No way. They just end up as more fucking hypocrites.”
“You seem upset.”
“Of course I’m upset! I’m here, right? If I didn’t care, if it didn’t upset me, I wouldn’t be here!” A surprisingly comfortable, almost relief-bringing silence passed. “Sometimes I think that would be easier.” Her voice was moving into a more somber tone.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t know. And I wish I did. It just seems right, you know? Like I should, because…I should. Because that’s the point of it all.”
“The point of what all?”
“Of this! Of why we’re here. Why you’re like that and I’m like this.”
“Is it about me? Or you?”
“It’s both. I think. I mean, there’s a reason we are the way we are, right? And I should do something, right? Right? It’s just…right.”
“Say’s who?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured with frustration. “I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure I ever knew.”
“What if you never know?”
“Is it possible? I’m not sure I’d make it. How would I know what to do? What should I do?”
“Listen.”
“To who? How will I know what’s right?”
“Listen.”
“To who?” Her varying levels of volume continued as she nearly shouted.
“Listen.”

dialogue #2
“what are you thinking about?” she asked sweetly, in a way that revealed genuine curiosity, and only a slight sense of naiveté.
“i don’t know,” she answered, in a way that revealed nothing.
a comfortable silence passed.
“well, that can’t be true, right? i mean, you must have been thinking about something, even if it was nothing. and you’re the only who would really know if it was something or nothing, or if the something was nothing, right?”
“i don’t know,” she repeated. “what are you thinking about?”
“i’m thinking about that movie i saw last week. it was so crazy violent, almost in a desensitizing way, you know? it really affected me. i’ve been having trouble sleeping, actually.”
“wow, really?” she asked sincerely.
“yeah. and it really made me think about all the violence in this city lately, too. and i just wonder how stuff like that is related, you know? and of course, i think about my students, and the situations they have to grow up in—the shit they have to see. it just seems like so much. they’re so young and already have so much to deal with. and on top of it all they have to worry about whether or not they’re going to make it to school and home again without being shot or beaten. and then they might have to take care of a parent or grandparent who is naturally or chemically ill. and they might not have a dinner to eat. and then they go to bed, knowing that they’ll wake up tomorrow and brave it again to go to a school that will almost assuredly leave them unprepared to achieve a basic level of living security in the future without putting forth an unbelievable level of effort--way more effort than i ever had to exert at their age. maybe more than i ever will. and at the same time, they know that just one misstep will make them a statistic, like everyone expects them to be, like most of the people around them will be. it just doesn’t seem fair, you know? it just doesn’t seem right.”
“wow. that’s a lot to be thinking about.”
another comfortable silence passed.
“now do you know what you’re thinking about?”
“that young girl that was sitting across from us on the train. did you notice her?”
“no. what about her?”
“she was sitting cross-legged next to a man who was probably her dad. she couldn’t have been more than 8, but was probably closer to 6. her hands were folded in her lap, and her thick, wavy brown hair was hanging just to the tops of her shoulders. she was cute, but without any really distinguishing features. she seemed a bit tired. and as i looked across at her, she smiled a very gentle smile. she slowly turned the edges of her mouth up, softened her eyes, and then inhaled and exhaled deeply. there was something about it that just made me feel so safe and peaceful. it was like she saw into me and said, ‘it’s okay. it’s going to be okay.’ and i believed her, you know? like, for a moment, we weren’t strangers on a train in the city, but we were everything—the two pieces of the whole, that have been friends and sisters forever. it was as if i had glimpsed the wisest being in the world in the smile of this little girl. and i thought about how sometimes i feel so unknown by the people around me, the people who seem to know me the best. and sometimes, which is scarier—terrifying to be honest--i feel like a complete stranger to myself. and yet in that moment i felt completely known and understood. and completely safe. and i knew that she wasn’t a stranger at all.”
“that’s a lot to be thinking about too.”
“yeah, and it just made me think about how rare those moments are and what that means. and if they can be manufactured. and if i can ever really know myself the way that girl knew me in that moment. and what it means if i know i can’t. and what it means if i don’t know.”
more silence passed, although it’s unclear for how long.
“so, what are you going to do?” she asked.
“what do you mean?”
“well, if you’re wondering what that moment means, what have you decided? what does it mean and what will you do about it? will you keep thinking about it? will you manufacture more? will you think about my students and the movie and the violence?”
“i guess i’ll just keep asking you what you’re thinking. i’ll keep trying to know you. and when those moments come i can rest in them. and maybe someday, when i’ve asked enough and i’ve seen enough, it won’t be so terrifying anymore. maybe then i can just be.”

2010-04-25T10:18:00.000-05:00

as i've stated before, i love traveling. but sometimes, memories can pop up at the most random times. such as last night, when i was sitting in my apartment, trying to do homework (on a saturday night, yes. but it's my LAST WEEKEND of grad school.) i was sitting, writing a hypothetical social service program proposal, when i started thinking about this house party i went to in mexico city last summer. i don't know why i started thinking about it. we were at this house packed with people somewhere in the massive city that is DF, and we were there until about 5am. i won't go into more detail, but it was a crazy night. and i guess it's just weird to think about how memory and nostalgia works. of all memories to pop into my head, why that one?

anyway, i thought i'd put a picture up to relate. this was actually not at the house, but it's from the same weekend and it's all the people i was there with.

festival of rain.

2010-04-25T10:12:00.000-05:00

i'm sitting in my room working on a final. coffee next to me, sigur ros floating through the apartment. i've been fighting the urge to write on here all morning, in an attempt to be productive on the final.

but just now, for about 30 seconds, it started to pour outside. just for 30 seconds. it was so beautiful. i couldn't help but stop typing, grab my coffee cup, and just take in the sight and sound of the rain hitting the rooftops around me.

it made me think of the essay 'rain and the rhinoceros' by thomas merton, where he discusses the 'festival of rain' and how it cannot be stopped. especially in the city, where people try to shuffle away and hide. rather than enjoy it as the festival that it is.

i hope i'm never too 'busy' to enjoy the rain. i hope you aren't either.

flamenco.

2010-04-08T22:47:00.001-05:00

i went back to lessons on monday. incredible.

my teacher/the owner of the studio had a performance tonight of a modern flamenco piece she's working on about a book she read about the arctic and a trip she took to syria with her young daughter. unbelievably beautiful and inspiring.

and i just spent the last couple hours watching videos like the following, with antonio gades, one of the most incredible and famous flamenco dancers/choreographers of all time:
carlos saura's carmen

don Francisco

2010-04-04T22:31:00.000-05:00

last year, while i was living in mexico, i wrote on this blog a short narrative of a man i had met while working for the community foundation. recently, for one of my graduate courses, i was required to write a migration narrative using an interview with someone who had migrated. i used the information from my meetings with francisco to reconstruct this narrative, as well as including some observations about larger political forces which probably had an effect. i decided that since people seemed to be interested in the original profile i offered of him, they may be interested in this. if you have time/desire to read it, i would love your thoughts/responses. it is written in full, here:

Introduction
During the summer of 2009, I completed my second year MSW internship in the state of Guanajuato, México, working with a community foundation that focuses on local economic and educational development in the surrounding rural Mexican communities. Although I worked primarily in the areas of development, fundraising, and program development, I also had the chance to travel to most of the communities, meet the families, and see the work being done with the support of the foundation.
One of these small towns is Tamaula, a community of about 50 families, which is located on a large hill just outside the mid-sized city of Irapuato. On my first trip up to Tamaula (the altitude is actually quite high, as the drive consists of about 45 minutes of incline), the first person I met was Francisco. I assumed he was about 60 years old, and met his wife and one of his daughters at the same time. As we were introduced, since the other student and I were still very new to the area and the foundation, Francisco offered to give us a short summary of the community and the work the foundation has done over the past few years.
After hearing this brief overview of his story, including the founding of Tamaula, difficult times, and various migratory journeys to the United States, I asked Francisco if he had ever recorded his story in any way. He explained to me that he had actually attempted to write in various times, but each time it was destroyed in some way. Once, it was lost in a rapid and unexpected change of residence. Another time, a fire destroyed the memoir. And yet another time, although he gave only vague details, the pages were destroyed during some type of incident with local authorities. After learning this, I asked Francisco if he would be willing to give me more details about his story, specifically about the migratory process, so that I would be able to record it and pass it on to people who may benefit greatly from it. And although I had heard his story and recorded the details, I had not completed the narrative until now.
Background
When Francisco was about 17, he and his young wife packed up the few possessions they owned and left their hometown in central Mexico in order to find a new area where they might be able to do agricultural work in order to subsist. He did not offer many details about the various elements of this decision. Rather, he explained that he and a few other young couples set off together to start anew. Although the journey and arrival must have been extremely difficult, considering the altitude, lack of a path or road, and the fact that they were on foot, they discovered the area where Tamaula now exists, and decided to stay. They constructed their houses, organized themselves as well as possible, and began their lives.
The primary crop grown in Tamaula was corn, although they did have other crops and livestock as well. The families were able to survive, but life was still difficult. Although the town was extremely close to the city of Irapuato, its location on top of the large hill allowed it to stay very isolated. In fact, until about 12 years ago, the most efficient form of transportation to arrive to Tamaula from the road below was a two-hour burro ride.
In spite of this isolation, the agriculture allowed the families in Tamaula not only to survive, but also to live relatively comfortably. However, in the 1990s, the situation began to change. Although he was unsure of why, it became much more difficult to sell the crops that Francisco and his family were farming. In addition to these unforeseen economic issues, the weather began to change as well. As the rainy seasons seemed to get shorter and the dry seasons longer, it became apparent in Tamaula that the lack of a reliable water source, due to its location, would be an increasingly troubling issue.
Faced with all of these issues, Francisco began to talk to various people in Irapuato when he would travel down. He began to hear about a company in the state of Georgia in the United States that would hire workers from Mexico to do farming and sometimes construction work. Although he did not like the prospect of having to leave his wife and five children, he began to consider this as possibly the best option for the family’s future.
Pre-Migration
Although they knew it would be a very difficult situation for Francisco, his wife, and his kids, the family also knew that it was the only way they would be able to stay in their community and survive during such difficult times. In fact, the personal economic issues were not the only difficulty facing the family. Francisco explained that they began to realize the truly debilitating effects of Tamaula’s isolation, due in large part to the lack of reliable transport between the community and the city.
One related issue was the complete lack of educational opportunities in Tamaula. There was still no type of formal education in the 1990s. While this had never struck them as a great necessity, because they figured the children would all continue to do the same agricultural work they had always done, these increasingly notable changes highlighted the lack of opportunity for future success for the youngest members of Tamaula. Therefore, Francisco knew that if he were able to go to the United States to work and send money home, along with some other men from the community, they may be able to pool enough resources to build a school and hire teachers from the city.
Of course, this would be dependent upon the improvement of basic infrastructure in Tamaula. First in importance would be a path or road cleared of rocks leading up to the community, allowing access by means other than foot or animal. In addition, there was still no electricity or clean water source in the community. All of these elements, which again highlight the isolation of Tamaula from the modern city of nearly 500,000 people so nearby, were on the mind and heart of Francisco and a few other men of the community as they considered the difficulty of the journey ahead of them.
The decision and preparation for this first journey was by far the most difficult for Francisco and his family. There was a great amount of uncertainty about every aspect: the journey up to the United States, the border crossing, the place where he would be going, the work he would be doing, how long he would stay, and how he would return. The family did find some level of solace, however, in the idea that Francisco would be returning at some point. Clearly, the plan was never for him to migrate permanently to the United States. In fact, the ideal situation would be that he would work just long enough to send enough money back to secure that the family could create some type of new economic opportunity, allowing him to never migrate again.
Luckily, he had a few friends in another community in the general area that had already made the journey and were able to guide him in the preparations of travel. He knew would be able to take a bus to the border, but he knew very little after that. His friends informed him of where to go at the border and how to access a coyote, but little else was prepared. Francisco knew where in Arizona to be at a certain time, and was prepared to trust God for the rest.
Transit
Unlike some migrants, who are forced to hitchhike or ride on the tops of trains to reach the U.S. border, Francisco had the opportunity to take a bus from his home state of Guanajuato to the border at Nogales, where he would cross. This long bus ride, although incredibly easy compared to the rest of the journey ahead of him, was surprisingly difficult due to the recent separation from his family and the overwhelming sense of uncertainty about the near and distant future. He had no idea where exactly the coyote would take him or how he would get there.
When he arrived in Nogales, he was able to locate a coyote based on the guidance he had received in Guanajuato. Once the coyote was paid and preparations were finished, the next leg of the journey, arguably the most dangerous, began: crossing over the border through the desert. This portion was clearly the most difficult for Francisco to discuss. He gave very few details, explaining only that it was the most horrible thing he had experienced in his life, and he thought for sure he was going to die. He was not sure how long it actually took or where exactly they were, but after at least a few excruciating days, the coyote announced that they had made it through the desert and were “safely” in a United States town. He now guesses that they had arrived in Tucson, Arizona.
However, the danger and pain was not yet over. At this point, Francisco was put into the back of a truck that was completely packed with people. It was clearly difficult for him to describe this experience, in which he was again positive that he was going to suffocate and die. He explained that it quickly outweighed the desert as the most horrible experience of his life. However, he arrived at his next destination: Phoenix.
After arriving in Phoenix, he was quickly put on an airplane destined for Atlanta, Georgia. And as he reiterates, he had literally no idea where he was going. He was completely dependent upon the people whom he was following. In fact, he described the fact that on the airplane, when he and some of the other men he had been traveling with were given complimentary meals, they did not eat them because they spoke no English and therefore were not aware that the food was free. They had not eaten in over three days.
Once he and the other migrants arrived in Atlanta, they were picked up by representatives of the company and driven to the town of Athens, about 70 miles from Atlanta. Francisco expressed gratitude at the opportunity to have at least a few other Mexican men with him on this leg of the journey. Although he did not feel his life was quite as threatened as it had been in the desert or the truck ride to Phoenix, the fact that he knew no English left him feeling continually afraid and uneasy.
Resettlement
While in the United States, due to the community in which he settled and the nature of his work, Francisco was actually not forced to integrate much into mainstream United States culture. He worked primarily with other migrants from Mexico or Central America, and lived in a small town with many of these co-workers. Therefore, he was able to speak Spanish almost exclusively, and rarely had to leave this comfort zone for any reason.
However, the life of an undocumented immigrant in the United States, even within the context of a good work situation, is difficult. For instance, due to a lack of health insurance, Francisco was never able to go to a doctor when he was sick or injured. When an accident at work left him with a large cut on his left forearm, he was left to dress and care for it himself because he would not have been able to afford otherwise. The community of migrants with whom he worked and lived was extremely helpful and supportive, especially during these first few months of transition.
Another difficulty, especially at first, was the separation from his family. This was the first time Francisco had ever left his wife and children, and he was still unsure exactly how long this separation would last. He explained that he felt extremely lonely, even around his fellow migrants, because he knew his entire family was together, along with his community in Tamaula. However, he found it extremely comforting to know that the money he was beginning to send home was helping his family and community to live and plan for the future.
The work Francisco was doing was actually quite manageable, although demanding. He was primarily working in agriculture, tending to crops such as corn and tobacco, but would also work on construction projects occasionally when it was available. Through this combination, he was not only able to use the skills and knowledge about agriculture that he already possessed, but he was able to learn knew skills in building and construction that he predicted would be helpful when he returned to Tamaula. He was also able to develop a very good relationship with his employer, which again provided him with much-needed support.
Francisco ended up staying in Georgia, doing this combination of work, for about two years. As he continued to work hard and send the majority of the money to his family in Tamaula, he weighed the options to remain or return to Mexico. Although he was making much more money than he had ever had at home, the strain of being separated from the family was too difficult. He not only missed his wife, children, and community, but he missed the more tranquil lifestyle in his small, quiet community on top of the hill. Therefore, after discussing it on the phone with his wife, he decided to return to Mexico after two years of working in Georgia. They assumed that with his new experience, knowledge, and skills, they would undoubtedly be able to support themselves in Tamaula.
Return
Luckily, the journey home to Mexico was much easier than the arrival trip had been. Francisco was able to take a bus to the border, cross over without problems, and take another bus back down to Guanajuato state. After two years, he was joyfully reunited with his wife and children. He was also able observe the marked differences in his community since he had left. Like him, many of the men had left, and many were still in the United States or Canada, sending remittances back. In fact, he estimated that the majority of families in Tamaula had a family member who had migrated, usually the father and/or oldest son.
Although he was able to organize the construction of some new homes in the community, especially for his growing family, as his children grew older and began their own families, the economic situation for Francisco and his family did not improve. (They also pooled remittance money with a number of other families in order to construct a new, large church, which is opened once a month when a traveling priest comes to officiate mass.) The opportunities for agriculture did not increase, and the money saved up from remittances was quickly being exhausted. Therefore, over the next five to ten years, Francisco was forced to make the difficult decision to emigrate to the U.S. a few more times. He was unclear of how many times he actually made the journey or how exactly he did it, but he did explain that the return trips were at least made easier by the general knowledge of what to expect. In addition, his boss in Georgia had told him after the first departure that he could work for him whenever he wanted or needed to.
During the past decade, as Francisco has gotten older and therefore less able to handle the journey, his sons have begun migrating. In fact, when I completed this interview with him, one son was in the United States working, and one had just recently returned. This younger generation not only supports their own young families, but supports their parents as well. Also during this time period, however, the foundation with which I was interning began working with the community. This collaboration has led to the creation of an automobile-accessible road up to Tamaula (cleared of rocks but not paved), the installation of electricity and internet access, and the gradual construction of three small buildings for educational purposes. The current project on which the foundation and the community are working is the installation of a clean water source and the purchase of a large cistern in which to store it.
With these developments, the community has truly been opened up to the surrounding area and the nearby city of Irapuato. Although it is still difficult to access (a rocky 45-minute car ride), the increasing accessibility has allowed the community leaders to work with the foundation to advocate much more effectively for the needs of the community. Francisco and another elder in the community have also collaborated with another organization to obtain a large number of goats in order to reignite some of the economic prospects the community once enjoyed. While the men raise, breed, and sell the goats, the women use the milk to make cheese, which they hope to sell in the local markets soon.
However, even with these growing opportunities, migration continues to be a significant part of life in Tamaula. In fact, the characteristics of those who migrate is continually changing, now often starting around age 14 or 15, and including young women as well as men. This culture of course creates a large number of social problems, including an extremely low commitment to education and high rates of depression and alcoholism in those left behind.
Larger Implications and Conclusion
It is not difficult to understand how Francisco’s story of immigration fits in to the larger context of economic, agricultural, and immigration policy between Mexico and the United States. For instance, as Daniels (2002) explains in his book Coming to America: A History of Immigration and Ethnicity in American Life, “in the 1980s, for the first time since the mid-1920s, immigration took up a central position on the American social agenda” (p. 388). Along with the many rounds of reform measures and policies that were being drafted and debated in these years, such as the Immigration Reform Act of 1986, U.S. public opinion about migrants and immigration was being discussed, debated, and reevaluated as well. At the very least, I would point to this ideological discussion—if not battle—as a reason for the extremely dangerous nature of the journey itself that Francisco completed. Were it not such a hotly contested issue with such an immense history, he may not have been forced to risk his life or those of his children in order to earn a living.
In addition to these general immigration policies, it seems incredibly likely that economic policies, such as the 1993 North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), also contributed significantly to Francisco’s choice to migrate. As Daniels (2002) mentions and others such as Flores-Macías (2006) discuss in detail, the trade policies of NAFTA nearly (if not completely) devastated the agricultural business of much of Mexico, especially central Mexico (where Guanajuato is located). Although the presidents of both nations claimed the policy would create more opportunities for work in both countries and therefore lower the rate of migration, it actually had the opposite effect, causing the levels of migration—especially illegally—from Mexico to the United States to skyrocket. It seems quite logical to include Francisco in this group.
Francisco’s story of migration, therefore, not only offers a great depiction of the stages of migration and the way this process can affect individuals, families, and whole communities, but it also exemplifies the way large national or international policies can affect these different levels of society as well. Nonetheless, Francisco continues. He continues to work hard, live with his wife in Tamaula, support his children as they migrate to and return from the north, and advocate for the community he founded nearly 50 years ago.

References
Daniels, R. (2002). Coming to America: A History of Immigration and Ethnicity in American Life.
Flores-Macías, G. A. (2008). NAFTA’s Unfulfilled Immigration Expectations. Peace Review, 20(4), pp. 435-441.

this is it.

2010-03-20T21:45:00.000-05:00

i've decided it's time to start attempting to document my journey back to south america. for now, as i begin this odd process, i'll just pick out a few of the stories i feel like typing out for now. i'm sure more will come out as i feel like it/remember. i'll probably entitle some parts. that's what i do.

"the way latin american travel is supposed to begin"
as anyone reading this blog knows, i was pretty excited for this trip. not only to travel, but to travel to peru and chile, where so much of my heart remains. so, as i approached the counter to check in for my first flight at ohare, i was pretty much floating. until. i asked the woman if she would be able to connect my luggage through to lima because i would be changing airlines in new york. she did her rapid typing thing and said it shouldn't be a problem...except...how was i planning on getting from laguardia airport to kennedy airport in nyc? "you're shitting me," i said out loud. "um...no," she replied. i had a 2-hour layover in new york and i was going to have to get my luggage and get to a different airport. luckily, she got me on a slightly earlier flight. and even more luckily, i'm a very privileged person who can afford an unexpected $40 cab ride through new york. but, i made it! and it was kind of nice to get the FIRST unplanned happening out of the way. in fact, i was so relieved to realize that i would make the second flight easily that i started trying to chat up my cab driver in new york. but he was not having it. apparently he had just been accused of something by the guy at the airport and that was the only thing he was willing to discuss. so, i let him talk about it for a while and then i just took in the brief look at nyc.

after arriving in lima, i quickly jumped in a cab to a bus station and grabbed a bus for chimbote, about 7 hours north of lima. it was a lot of traveling, yes, but it was so worth it to see courtney. even 7 hours on a bus with no bathroom. i didn't drink anything and got a lot of reading done! and actually, ended up having a really nice conversation with the guy sitting next to me for the last couple hours.

it was so so so great to see courtney. and to see her life. she is someone that continually inspires and challenges me in the way she lives (not just because she lives in chimbote), so even a few days with her was incredibly huge for me. the title of this whole post, "this is it," comes from a conversation we had about life, and being present, and not living for some other time or place or person. but being here, now. like the quote under the title of this blog also. there is only one moment.

this was one beautiful part of that (and this) moment:

after a couple quick days with courtney, i bused it back to lima and got on a plane for santiago. and as we landed, i saw the huge tents where i would eventually pick up my bag, go through customs, and leave without ever entering the airport building, which had sustained significant damage. and as i saw the tents, i remembered the earthquake for the first time. i had that same rush of excitement/anxiety thinking about what the city would be like. and what i would be like there.

the city had changed a lot, but you almost couldn't tell that the earthquake had just hit. as far as santiago goes, it's very much back to normal. minus a few really old buildings, like this one:

in fact, i kept forgetting about the earthquake. until thursday, when i went for a long, great run in the sun. and, as i was coming back to the house, i noticed that everyone was out on the street. everyone was leaving buildings and standing in the parking lots/streets, trying to make phone calls. i honestly thought, "hm...lot's of fire drills going on right now. or people just really like to have their lunch breaks outside?" but, when i got back to the house and the nana and bernardita, my host sister, answered the door they asked, "did you feel the aftershock? it was really strong!" they both looked quite shaken up, actually. "no!" i yelled. "are you serious?! my first tremor and i missed it!" i guess if you're running when the ground moves, you don't feel it. or perhaps i'm just that fast that i was actually flying over the ground. well, i think we all know i'm a little too klipsch for that to be the case. in any event, i ended up feeling one of the tremors later in the day. it really is incredible the way the buildings sway. and reports said that the early one had actually been clocked at a 7.2, which is bigger than the haiti earthquake. pretty crazy stuff.

"distance is just another way to relate"
being with my family was absolutely incredible. as we all kept saying, especially my host mom and i, it was completely normal. completely comfortable. it felt as if i had simply been "away" in the states for a little while but now i was home and life could go back to normal. honestly, it was really weird. and it was part of the reason why i spontaneously started crying (which i don't do that often) when on a day trip with my host dad on the last day at cerro san cristobal:

i realized that i had been so comfortable all week being with them (and busy with wedding stuff) that i really hadn't made an effort to go to too many places or do many things in santiago. it just felt like i was "back" and had all the time in the world. and looking at this sunset, i realized i didn't:

it probably didn't help that i literally hadn't slept the night before because of the wedding. but regardless, it was really hard for me to accept the fact that i would be leaving the next day. but i did. i decided not to dwell on my upcoming departure, but rather to enjoy being there with one of my favorite people in the entire world, talking about peace, and connection, and the illusion of distance.

"it's just like the movies!"
and for the wedding. so many good things to say i don't even know where to start. the wedding and all other events were a beautiful mix of the two cultures, and therefore a beautiful representation of sarah and felipe's relationship. for instance, it was an extremely formal event, at a huge and beautiful catholic church. very chilean. but also, we had a rehearsal dinner and bridal party, which is not done in chile. so, as we (sarah and the bridesmaids) went around her neighborhood to take pictures before the wedding, people just kept saying, "it's just like the movies!" they were literally stopping their cars and getting out to take pictures of us. people eating al fresco at restaurants started applauding us. it was kind of awesome. i must admit. we did kind of feel like we had walked out of a movie or a bridal magazine or something. and, well, we kind of did. check out this photo, just one of the many amazing shots by the incredible photographer, a friend of sarah's:

check out her blog here.

the wedding was beautiful. and late, which is perfectly chilean. i mean late. it was scheduled to start at 8. it started around 9. cocktail hour started around 1030. dinner was served around midnight, with toasts thrown in here and there. dancing started around 1 and DID NOT STOP until 6am. it was FANTASTIC. as in, fantastic. exactly what i would want, except maybe a little earlier in the day. but the chileans did not stop dancing the entire time. it was more fun than i can explain. when i get some more pictures of the actual party, i will definitely post them.

and so, after all, i left. i said goodbye to santiago with a wonderful 45minute coffee date with my best friend in chile, alejandra. again, it was like no time had passed at all.

the journey home was long, but fine. a 12-hour layover in lima made for a bit of exhaustion, but it was my decision in order to save some money. so, it was definitely worth it. well, until i missed my connection in miami and started crying at the counter. but, i'm sure the woman has seen much worse (you know, like someone cursing when they find out they have to change airports in new york!). she was very nice and got me on the next flight. it was a good reminder to me of the illusion of time and the ridiculousness of trying to hurry.

ok, there's so much more i could write about, but that's it for now. there are more pictures on facebook. actually, i didn't take many, but i put them all up, with a few captions. so, if you're interested, check them out!

thanks for reading! peace and love and eternity to you.

volver. return.

2010-03-04T09:21:00.000-06:00

today i leave to return to south america for the first time in almost two years. i can honestly say it is too much for me to fathom at this point. i almost feel like i did when i first went there OVER two years ago, literally having no idea what to expect. i feel like have worked so hard to build a perfect space in my mind and heart for my experience in south america, that this doesn't seem to fit in. i don't know where it'll go.

tomorrow, i will arrive in lima, peru. where this took place:

peru is also where the picture at the top of this page took place. it's a rather unforgettable place. i will spend a few days in peru with one of my best friends, courtney. i haven't seen her in almost two years as well, since she's been living and working there. i can't wait to hug her, and laugh with her, and sing and dance with her, and see her life there.

and then, i will go back to lima and fly to santiago (hopefully). where this happened:

and this:

it's truly impossible to imagine what it will be like to be in the city where i lived for 7 months and where, undoubtedly, so much has changed. to be in the house, to walk down the street. i wish it were under slightly different circumstances. in fact, my host family, with home i will be staying, has still not been able to return to santiago from the south, where they were vacationing during the earthquake. i'm still waiting to hear updates. so, not only am i struggling to imagine what it will be like to be in the same place, but to be in the same place and not know if the metro will be working, or if certain buildings are still standing or are covered in debris. to not know if i can contact certain people because they may have much bigger issues on their hands right now than a visiting gringa.

i changed so much during my time there. and i have changed so much since. i almost feel like when i'm there, i might run in to myself two-years-ago, walking home from the university or from the community center where i took a dance class. and then i think about the beautiful campus of the university and start wondering how much damage it sustained...it will be a strange trip indeed.

but nonetheless, it is under beautiful circumstances as well. i will also be standing up in the wedding of two of my good friends and favorite people, sarah and felipe. they have been through quite a lot in the past week or two, and it will be such a beautiful moment to watch them become wife and husband.

i will update when possible, but i may be busy trying to find a new space in my heart and mind where this trip will go as it fades from future, to present, to past without so much as consulting me.

thanks for reading, thanks for thinking, thanks for challenging, thanks for loving.

peace to you.

i almost wish...

2010-01-18T19:04:00.000-06:00

...i didn't love traveling so much. well, not that i would love it less, but that there was something less expensive that i loved as intensely.

i went to san francisco this weekend, and got back late last night (sunday). i went for a social work research conference, but had a good amount of time to explore a bit. i went alone, which i actually really loved. i'm coming to learn that traveling is something i find really calming. i think appreciate the opportunity to be out of control--as in, there are much less demands on my time, and i have very little control of it. so, i'm able to take everything in, meet new people, see/hear/smell/taste new things, and not feel as though i should be spending my time on "more productive" things.

also, when traveling, i am MUCH better at recording my thoughts--even the smallest and seemingly insignificant. so, here are some of the highlights and thoughts i jotted in my journal, planner, or conference booklet over the weekend.

--the el (train) on the way to the airport in chicago at 5am smelled overwhelmingly like expensive cheese. but, in a really, really bad way.

--i've found that EVERY time i fly, during take-off, i lean forward and contract my abs to get a little ab workout. this is 100% my mother's doing. i remember her telling me to do it the first time i ever flew, and i've done it ever since. and i think of her every time. thanks mom!

--my hotel was in the heart of chinatown! it was great. here's a picture:

--the conference was downtown, in the financial district, near the pier. it was beautiful, but i saw more brand-label stores, banks, and coffee shops than i have EVER seen jammed in one area. ever.

--the conference itself was pretty great. it was a forum to present research papers, so it was extremely academic, but the topics were also extremely interesting. as far as i know, i was the only masters-level student there, all the rest being doctoral students or phds. i went to presentations on research about: adolescent alcohol use in chile (!), low-income housing in chicago, post-traumatic stress related to natural disasters and terrorism, latino day laborers, and welfare policy, among others. and the hotel where the conference was held was unbelievably gorgeous. which was an uncomfortable contrast, for me at least, with the pretty crazy number of homeless people--young and old--right outside. the hotel:

--friday night, i explored a neighborhood called haight ashbury that was really great. lots of interesting people, great art, amazing thrift and music stores. here's one of my favorite pictures i took while walking around there:

--saturday, during my lunch break from the conference i went to a great farmers market down by the bay. there were street performers, great produce, and lots of joy. i'm tired of posting pictures on here, so i'll put the rest on facebook later that you can see if you'd like.

--saturday night i explored chinatown a bit more. it was pretty touristy, but that was to be expected. it was still great.

--sunday, after the conference, i headed home. i would have loved to spend some more time there.

i had intentions of writing more, but since i start classes tomorrow and am getting pretty tired now, i'm not going to. i'll put up the pictures soon, and captions will undoubtedly be included. i think everyone that may possibly read this is on facebook, so you'll know when i do.

peace!

things i'm loving.

2010-01-05T16:55:00.000-06:00

ok, clearly i didn't do too well at the 31 days in december thing. but, it definitely reminded me to be constantly aware of the beautiful things around me, which is always good.

here are some things i'm currently loving:

--music by passion pit, especially the song "little secrets." i'm unable to hear it without dancing.

--the last couple books i've been reading. i finished "naked" by david sedaris over christmas and loved it. i then read "what is the what" by dave eggars. it was really great as well. it inspired a lot of specific thoughts about not only the world and the ways it (doesn't) work, but what it means to be human as well. i'd love to discuss more with you, if you want. call or email! now i'm reading 'eating animals' by jonathan safran foer. it's really great too. it's definitely re-affirming my decision to be a vegetarian, but i'd love to hear the thoughts after reading it of someone that isn't. anyone read it? i'm not sure which book is next. i have a big stack on my desk.

--the show 'entourage.' i've never really watched it before, but i've been watching a few episodes the last couple days, and it's pretty great. it's no '30 rock' or 'the wire,' but it's good.

--fader magazine. i got a subscription for christmas, and i've been devouring the first couple magazines. they've led me to do the following: watch some really funny videos online, most involving zach gallifinakis, explore and listen to some new artists, work on some new art projects of my own, and watch old 'yo mtv raps' videos on youtube, especially of wu tang clan. any magazine that inspires all that is a pretty good one by me.

--yoga. i've been doing some after working out the last week or so, and it's been really great.

please feel free to comment with something you're currently loving!

peace.

days 18 and 19.

2009-12-19T17:40:00.000-06:00

day 18.

an incredibly peaceful moment last night, listening to good music, drinking good wine, and surrounded by good people.

last night, i went to a venue that i haven't been to in a while, but used to go often during my freshman and sophomore years. my good friend katie was playing a show there, so a few of us went to listen. at one point, while katie was playing, i had this intense moment of nostalgia. i started thinking about when i met katie, over four years ago, and how we've both changed since then. then, i began thinking about who else was around the table, and how we've all changed in that time. i also started thinking about who wasn't around the table, friends that had moved and started new lives elsewhere. and so i began thinking about where we, those of us around the table, might be in 4 more years. it would be altogether possible that not only are we not all in the same city, but that we are not all in the same country. it was as if i was feeling nostalgia not just for the past, but for the future as well.

as the night went on, with the wet snow falling outside, another musician played after katie. he was very good also, and did a cover of the song 'blood bank' by bon iver. and the entire night seemed to come together, at least in reflecting the moment i just described, when he sang the line, "ain't that just like present? to be showin' up like this?" i've been thinking about time a lot lately, and that line really expressed how i was feeling at that moment.

it also made me think of the vonnegut quote written to the side --> that i've written about before here. actually, i think it was the way i began this blog, almost 2 years ago exactly.

day 19.

this song: christmas light by keegan dewitt and the sparrows

busted. day 17. and a few others.

2009-12-17T21:50:00.000-06:00

so, i've officially been called out by three people now, which is what i told myself it would take before i would jump back on the wagon here. why do i always start things during finals week that i don't really want to finish? and why have i been busier in the past couple weeks than i was during the semester? life.

well, i'm going to start with today and then write a bunch of other beautiful things from the past couple weeks. i'm not going to number them because i don't want to be limited either way.

day 17: while i was working as a corporate gift-wrapper today in the suburbs (i know, i know), we were listening to a 24/7 christmas radio station (again, it's been a long day), and a song came on that immediately brought me back to 8th grade show choir, when i sang that song. it was such a fun moment of immediately jumping to that time in my life: short, blond hair, lots of sequins and blush, and the belief that this was a really, really important thing. oh, nostalgia.

other things:
--on one of my last days around loyola, i went up in the afternoon to this big ballroom in one of the buildings that is used for big events, where there is a piano. it's a huge room, with an amazing view, but closing my eyes and playing for a while gave me a short time to completely escape within myself.
--sufjan christmas music!!! especially the song 'sister winter.'
--i had a couple nights last week where i just turned up the radiator, poured a glass of wine, and read on the couch. it was beautiful and restful
--seeing old friends--i got to go visit my friend anna last week and it was lovely to feel so comfortable with her. i also spent time with a couple of the girls i studied abroad with last night, which was great as well.
--making new friends--i have met some really cool people in the last couple weeks, which has been really refreshing.
--i just finished the book "holidays on ice" by david sedaris. it has kept me laughing over the past few days of consumerism madness.
--i've watched a few great movies recently: 'no country for old men,' 'city of god,' 'mala educacion,' 'vicky cristina barcelona,' and 'food, inc.' i really enjoyed all of them for very distinct reasons.

okay, i feel like my brain is a mush of poinsettia-patterned paper, green and red ribbons, discussions of the intricate politics of one's daughter's cheerleading squad (i shit you not), all to the soundtrack of 'carol of the bells.'

i promise to try to me a little bit more faithful to this, most of the time.

peace.

day five.

2009-12-06T11:44:00.000-06:00

emailing in my last final for the semester and spending the evening celebrating with amazing friends. few things make me happier.

day four.

2009-12-04T20:02:00.000-06:00

this quote, from the book Dead Aid: Why Aid is Not Working and How There is a Better Way for Africa by Dambisa Moyo:

"Scarcely does one see Africa's (elected) officials or those African policymakers charged with the development portfolio offer an opinion on what should be done, or what might actually work to save the continent from its regression. This very important responsibility has, for all intents and purposes, and to the bewilderment and chargrin of many an African, been left to musicians who reside outside Africa. One disastrous consequence of this has been that honest, critical and serious dialogue and debate on the merits and demerits of aid have atrophied. As one critic of the aid model remarked, 'my voice can't compete with an electric guitar'.

day three.

2009-12-03T21:43:00.000-06:00

a kid at the y, probably 10 or 11, with what i wouldn't call a kool-aid "moustache" so much as a kool-aid "clown's mouth." it was quite amazing. seriously, i wish i could have seen him drink that juice. it must have been a show.

day two.

2009-12-02T22:17:00.000-06:00

a random song in portuguese playing at a cafe that (i think) was about life.

if you know me, you know that i really want to learn portuguese. (that might not be true. i don't really talk about it that often.) but, i do. and i also really like a lot of music in portuguese, often brazilian. (love ceu, check her out.)

the song wasn't overly beautiful, but the moment was. i was sitting in a cafe (okay, i admit, it was a starbucks) in downtown chicago, with a mess of books and papers scattered in front of me as i worked (more happily than i should admit) on the final paper for my education class, sporadically people watching out the window (or inside, where i caught a woman in the corner smoking a pipe as she sucked down her espresso), and this random song came on, in portuguese, that i could kind of understand. it was really lovely.

the chorus sounded something like "la vida no para." which, in spanish, means "life doesn't stop." but for a second, it did.

peace to you.

ps. why do i ALWAYS blog more during finals? without fail.

december musings. day one.

2009-12-01T21:24:00.000-06:00

it's been quite some time since i've posted here, so i'm not sure if anyone is still checking. but, regardless, i'm going to start something for december.

for each of the 31 days of december, i'm going to write (probably briefly) about something that happened/that i saw that day that i found particularly beautiful, inspiring, or worthy of gratitude. i'm not sure where it'll take me, but i'm interested to find out.

day one.

the view from the pink line (train) just as it pulls out of the loop and opens up over the chicago river.

every time i'm facing the north and see this view, especially at night, i smile. i can't control it. there is something about that moment when the city seems to open up a bit, to seem less busy, less cold, less hurried. i've begun to look forward to it at the station before. and tonight, as i saw it, i felt really grateful to get to see it almost every day. and decided i should document it, inspiring me to do this experiment during december.

if you're so inclined, please feel free to do the same. i would love to know what is making you happy to be alive.

peace.

2009-07-27T13:15:00.000-05:00

here are some fotos from the last few weeks (which have been amazing, minus the whole shennanigan below).

be back in the states 2 weeks from today! crazy...

"the great escape" or "trapped in the office (part 1)" or "how to catch a white girl in your backyard"

2009-07-22T17:15:00.000-05:00

note: the following story is true and happened to me yesterday.

it had actually been a pretty good day. i had a lot of things to get done, and i was relatively productive in getting them done. and my friends dany and lalo, who normally have to go work in the community, needed to do office work as well. so, i even had company during the day. my boss was out of town for a couple days, so i was excited to make good progress on some projects to show her when she returned.

in the afternoon, as everyone was starting to pack up and head out, i decided to finish a little early and head to the back of the house (the office where i work is in the house where i live), where there’s a little gym, to run on the treadmill. it’s the time of day when i get to expend all the energy that’s built up by sitting in front of the computer for 8ish hours, and i tend to look forward to it quite a bit.

after a good workout, i started to head in, through the backyard towards the house, planning to take a quick shower before getting a cup of coffee with a friend. but, as i walked back through the outdoor patio, i realized that door to the laundry room, the door i would enter, the door with a deadbolt on the other side, was closed.

shit.

seriously, shit. whoever was still in the office when i went back to the gym didn’t realize i was there and closed and locked the door.

well, one of the offices has a door to the back patio, so maybe that would be open. but alas, it wasn’t. deadbolted as well.

shit.

this couldn’t really be happening, right? everyone was definitely gone by this point. my boss (and the owner of the house) wouldn’t be back until the following day. i was in the backyard, in my gym clothes, with the two dogs. no phone. no people nearby. and even if i could somehow yell to someone to help, i would need to get someone with a key to open the front door of the house to come in and let me out. and then the clouds starting to form for the afternoon rain. shit.

the door to the back office was at least somewhat cracked, even though it had a deadbolt. there had to be some way to get it open. i was never in girl scouts, but i’ve seen a lot of movies. i figured i had to figure out a way to get open. plus, i mean…i am a grad student afterall…

i found this big knife/tool thing in the back yard and began scraping it against the deadbolt and amazingly enough it moved! after a few minutes of scraping and prying, i got it open! i couldn’t believe it. for a while there, i honestly thought i would just have to sleep in the backyard for the night. but no. my exact thoughts were, “i totally just ‘man vs wild’-ed that shit!” i was really impressed with myself.

so i entered the office, laughing at the almost-catastrophe, and walked through until i reached the other door. the OTHER damn door that only opens from the inside. you’ve got to be kidding me. and this one, an older, wooden door, has this weird-ass metal lock on the outside that involves twisting this spiral piece through another piece, etc, etc. ridiculous.

but, i got the first lock, right? so i figured i could get the other one without having to tell anyone i was trapped in my own house. plus, i had at least reached a place with shelter, a bathroom, and water, not to mention a phone and computers.

at first, i thought maybe i could just knock it loose, but after a couple strong shoulders to the door, i heard a few cracks and realized that that was probably the worst idea. but, above the door was open, with a row of wooden poles. i figured that if i could just find something with a reflection to see it and some type of pole, i might be able to get it. i went into the back closet and found a broom, from which i untwisted the pole, and a spatula. damn straight.
but, after about 10 minutes and one terrifying second where i thought my arm was stuck, i realized that wasn’t going to work. (i was increasingly impressed throughout the whole ordeal to learn how many Spanish curse words i’ve picked up, though…)

but i was in an office! i had a phone, computers, etc. this couldn’t be that difficult, i would just have to swallow my pride and let someone know what happened. but i quickly realized that i didn’t know anyone’s numbers. they were all in my cell phone, in my room, about 50 feet away. computer. in the first, no internet. good lord, you’ve got to be kidding me. the second worked and i immediately signed on to email and facebook (thank you mark zuckerburg!) after a quick email to my brother jake explaining why i couldn’t currently talk to him on skype (which, i found out later, he told my nephew oliver that “aunt kait is trapped in a room in her house,” and he promptly began to cry. we had to skype today so he could see i was okay), i signed on to facebook and sent a message to my 4 best friends who live in this city to ask for help. “ayudame—en serio, or ‘help me, seriously” was the subject line. i sent a few emails, again realizing that i had to reach one of about 3 people that have a key to the house, while trying to tell as few people as possible what was going on. and then, with no phone numbers and no responses, i started imagining how funny it was going to be when the people showed up for work in the morning and i was balled up under their desks sleeping on the floor.

but, i hadn’t yet given up. i went back in to the really full storage closet of stuff and looked for other things to try to work on the lock. i taped a pen to the pole for more precision. i taped the spatula to another pole. i took a long, heavy mirror from the back of a cabinet and prayed that i didn’t drop on the other side of the door. but after at least another hour trying to open and randomly checking the computer, making it about 2 hours in total now, i officially gave up on the door. i wasn’t going to be able to “man vs wild” that shit. so, i went back to facebook.

and praise the lord, my best friend here, Dany, answered my facebook message.
dany: “katy, que te pasa???? hablas en serio? o es chiste?”—“kait, what’s going on? are you serious? or is this a joke?”
me: “i know you would think it’s a joke, but i’m serious. please please please help me.”
dany: “ok, how do i get in to the house?”
me: “well…that’s the thing. we have to find someone with a key. or else you can’t get into the house.”
dany: “okay, what are their phone numbers?”
me: “well, that’s the other thing. i don’t have any of them.”

suddenly, my other friend who lives at the same place came on:

lalo: “kait, it’s lalo. i don’t believe you. you’re joking.”
me: “lalo, i’m going to kill you. i’m not joking. you have to figure out how to get me out of here.”

after another 30 minutes of them calling anyone they could think of to get the numbers of more people to call to find someone with a key, ensuring that everyone in the state found out what was happening (except my boss, of course, because she refuses to use a cell phone), they got the address of someone nearby who would have the number of my boss’s brother, who has a key.

dany: “we’re heading out right now for the house. we’ll call you in the office to update you. i’ll leave facebook on in case you need anything. do you think you’ll make it?”
me: “at least i have water…but hurry.”

as it was coming close to 830, making it about 3 hours in the damn room, the phone rang. dany told me that they got a hold of the brother and he would be there as soon as he could, in about an hour.

so, after disassembling and putting away my various tools, i sat in the office, talked on facebook, and watched ‘daily show’ clips while i waited--just like the pioneers probably did when they were trapped in the wilderness…

about 40 minutes later, he showed up, and freed me.

mmm…i breathed in deep and kissed the ground. like a new lease on life…
and then my boss’s brother explained that when i go out the first door, that i originally went out for the gym, i have to put out the deadbolt because otherwise the wind will blow it shut like that.

you’ve got to be shitting me. the only thing that made me feel a little bit less like an idiot was the thought that someone unintentionally locked me out. but no. the wind closed the door that i had left open.

as i was about to get into the shower, (i was filthy from digging through the storage closets), dany and lalo ran up to the house.

“no! he already let you out!? we wanted to take pictures of us coming in to save you!!!”

“shut up.” i said. “but thank you so much. i would have been completely screwed without you two.”

and thus, i am officially the ‘gringa that got locked in the back of the house.’ today, around the office, the maid and one of the other employees mentioned a couple other times that it had happened to various people in the past couple years, but i’m not sure if it was true or they were just trying to make me feel better.

the next time i hear someone say, “ay, katy” (as in, “ay ay ay” and “kah-tee” because they can’t say kait), with a mixture of pity, annoyance, and laughter, i’m going to go crazy.

estas en tu casa

2009-07-20T14:06:00.001-05:00

this phrase, which means "you're in your home" is one i have seriously heard so many times while traveling. as in, when we visit people and/or stay the night in their homes, and they're saying, 'make yourself at home.' and usually, the visit ends with them saying, 'tienes tu casa' or 'you have your home', as in, if you ever come back to this area, you are welcome to stay here.

i mention this because i am continually reminded of the incredible hospitality that i have experienced in latin america. it really is unlike anything i've ever experienced in the states. for instance, this weekend, when i went to guadalajara with some friends (which was fantastic, more pictures and stories to follow), we stayed with the friend of a friend and her brother. but also, her parents were visiting. so, the first night, there were 8 of us in their tiny 2 bedroom apartment. the parents slept in one full-size bed, the brother and sister slept on the futon in the living room, and the rest of us slept a couple of twin beds in the other bedroom. when we woke up in the morning (pretty late, i'll admit) the mom cooked us all eggs for breakfast, with fresh vegetables, even when we insisted that she didn't. and she doesn't even live there, nor know us! and as we left, they assured us that we were welcome any time, and it really is sincere. to the point that if i went by myself or with other friends, i would feel comfortable calling them up.

also, last week we had dinner with one of the board members of the foundation whom i've met a couple times. it was a really great dinner in her amazing house--overlooking the whole city. and she assured that i was welcome anytime i wanted to stop in and INSISTED that i bring my dad there when he comes to visit in a few weeks--which we will totally do.

and one final example that is always the best for me of 'latin american hospitality' is when i was traveling in chile. we stayed with my host dad's brother and his family for a couple nights, and the entire family of 4 slept in the parents' tiny bedroom so that we 4 girls could have the sons' rooms to sleep in. and they of course fed us and drove us around. and again, i feel like if i'm ever back in that city, i wouldn't hesitate to call them.

this is something i think a lot about and really want to bring back to my life in the states. because, really, it's not just about being willing to let people stay in your home, to crash on your couch. people here willingly sacrifice quite a lot for their guests, often times people they don't even know! in fact, i have never been offered a couch, always the bed. and like i've mentioned before, anytime we go to any of the small, poor communities where we work, we are ALWAYS offered food. and NEVER rushed out the door. which, is probably the thing i'll most have trouble with in the states. even if i welcome people in unexpectedly, i'm always looking at the clock, waiting to get back to my day and all the things i had planned.

just one of the many things i'm learning and hoping to take back with me.

my soundtrack

2009-07-16T12:36:00.000-05:00

since i'm at a computer for a large part of most days, and not necessarily always with things to do, i try to be productive with my time. i've been writing a lot more. but also, i've been searching for and listening to a lot of new music. so, i thought i'd share with you all the music i've been learning and loving and living during my time here this summer. most of it's not in english. but, who actually knows the words to the music they listen to? so don't write it off just because it's in a different language.

1. ximena sarinana--album "mediocre"
this album came out last year, and i'd heard her before coming here (in fact, one of her songs is my favorite to play/sing on guitar, called 'las huellas'). she has a really unique, jazzy, soulful voice. this album is a kind of satirical criticism of a "woman's role" of mediocrity.
sample: mediocre

2. 'dark was the night' by various
this is a compilation album put together by 2 brothers from the band 'the national', one of my favorites. they have their own label and for this, they also worked with an organization that does aids relief work. it's a double album, 31 songs, half of which was their attempt at capturing some of the best blues today. the other half (it's all kind of mixed, actually) is their attempt at capturing the best independent music today. it has all the highlights. you can hear each song on youtube, but here are a couple links to my favorites. of course i have to put the sufjan on there, because he is my favorite artist.
sample: 'train song' by feist and ben gibbard
'you are the blood' by sufjan stevens

3. 'youth novels' by lykke li
this is a great, unique album. she has a very unique sound, with a mix of electronic and hip hop beats, with her light, young voice on top. some songs lyrically emotional, others just fun to dance to.
sample: 'little bit'

4. 'vid og vid' by olof arnalds
i know. it's crazy. this is an icelandic artist that i actually learned about by listening to an npr podcast with bjork, another icelandic artist. she mentioned arnalds as one of her favorite new artists and they played one of her songs and i really loved it. she has almost a similar voice to bjork (maybe it's the crazy language too) but much more of a folksy sound. it's been very peaceful for me the last month or so.
sample: 'i nyju husi'

5. 'the spirit of apollo' by N.A.S.A.
nasa stands for 'north america south america' and they aim to capture the best sounds of both continents on this debut album. and i can't say i know the best sounds on both continents, but they definitely have a great mix. with a stellar list of cameos--david byrne, chuck d, method man, rza, krs-one, karen o from the yeah yeah yeas, odb, tom waits(!), kanye west, santogold, lykke li, george clinton, mia, the cool kids, etc. the first song below is one of my favorites from the album--talks a lot about the history of hip hop. the second is probably the most famous from the album, with kanye, santogold, and lykke li, all faves of mine.
samples: 'hip hop'
'gifted'

6. 'hu hu hu' by natalia lafourcade
this is another brand new one that i just got a few days ago, and just came out about a month ago. i reallllly love it. i actually started listening to her in high school, thanks to my amazing spanish teacher, barb lipnick. she has a very similar style to ximena, very similar to what i like to play/sing/write. in fact, i thought they were the same people for a while...it's a really great album that i'm still discovering, and listening to constantly.
sample: 'hu hu hu'

ok. i could go on, i'm sure. but for now, those are the highlights. i hope you enjoy them and give them a chance! they might just change your life...

just fotos

2009-07-15T10:27:00.000-05:00

here

mexico does a blues fest and a circus

2009-07-14T15:20:00.000-05:00

this past weekend was a GREAT one. i went, along with 4 of the Mexican students i work with and one of the other gringos to the town called Pozos that the fundacion works in for a blues festival. it was soooo much fun. the Mexican students that are living/working there in pozos are some of my favorite people too, so it was great to see them. plus, it was a blues festival. sitting there, at the festival, really filled me with a strong sense of peace and nostalgia. anyone reading this knows how much i love music, especially live. and outdoor festivals? beautiful. plus, the scenery there was incredible. the pictures show that pretty well.
here's a couple of the venue:

it did start raining after a while, which was freezing, and caused us to huddle under the 3 tents they had for about a half hour, but after it passed, we put on jackets and went back out and listened to music and danced for about 4 hours. it was really great. and the music was good as well. i mean, being from Chicago, i was somewhat skeptical. but it really was good. i mentioned to ian, the other gringo, that i kind of wished they wouldn’t sing in English at all, because that did detract a bit. my favorite? “i’m gonna bang all the pretty womens.” ha. plus, it was free and a liter of beer was about $2.50. you can't find that in chicago.
here some "pretty womens" all bundled up from the rain--

and two of my FAVORITE mexicans, dany and mario:

and then, last night, those of us in irapuato decided to go to the circus! it was pretty fun. the barley circus—the biggest in the country. they did have lots of animals, but it kind of depressed me a bit. some were clearly not happy. but, it was fun to look around at the kids faces that were watching. we weren’t supposed to take pictures, so i only have a few, but they give the general idea.
here are a couple of the circus:

this weekend is Guadalajara with my friend Daniela. i’m realllllly excited.
here's a picture of us!

mas fotos

2009-07-13T10:11:00.000-05:00

first--some clarification--in the picture from the last post, i'm not about to hit that guy in the head with a sledgehammer. there were 4 of us hitting the same piece of copper, and he was right before me. he chose to wear the kick-ass spartan-style helmet while we "worked."

and then, here are a couple more pictures. (i think everyone that reads this is pretty much on facebook, so you've probably seen them, but just in case...)

the first is a group of my good friends here. these are all the people that live in the same city as me and work in the community called tamaula that's nearby. and the second one i just think is hilarious. it was one day that we were working in tamaula. the "mexico" version of me. jajaja.

one more

2009-07-10T10:24:00.000-05:00

this is me getting to hit hot copper with a sledgehammer. i love it, and couldn't resist putting it up.

a couple pics

2009-07-09T17:21:00.000-05:00

these are a few pictures taken by one of the other girls here. she's a photography student and she's really talented. i liked these and thought you might as well. they are all from our trip to michoacan a few weeks ago. enjoy!

2009-07-01T17:44:00.000-05:00

i've been doing a lot of traveling, and it's been fantastic. since i last wrote, i've traveled to guanajuato city (again), mineral de pozos (again), and mexico city.

in guanajuato city, we did a few more touristy things that we missed the first time, like going to the mummy museum, and the pipila monument. i have descriptions of both of these along with pictures here on facebook. we also hung out with some of the volunteers from mexico city, who i'm now pretty good friends with. it was a really fun weekend.

the trip to mineral de pozos was the beginning of a "tour" with a professor from the university in mexico city where the volunteers are from, who has to come see the projects they're doing. it is a FEDERAL LAW in mexico that all university students must do a semester or summer-long social service before graduating. the interesting thing is that, although i feel that the average college student in the states may be naturally more willing to do this kind of service, i can NEVER imagine it being made into a law. it really is fascinating because i've learned a lot and had a number of discussions on the problem of philanthropy in mexico (no tax-deductible laws, high levels of religiosity/giving to the church, low levels of money to feed one's family, etc), and yet they have a program like this. it's really been interesting to discuss.

and mexico city. incredible. huge. unfathomable, really. the first day we went downtown to see the zocalo (main plaza), the catedral, the templo mayor, and the immense amount of life there. it was incredible. the second day we went to the pyramids outside the city, where i got significantly sunburnt. but, i was standing on the temple of the sun, so it's only fitting right? and both nights...lots of dancing. it was really a great trip, that i'm still recovering from. pictures from that and a birthday party for one of the men in one of the communities can be found here on facebook.

the tour, starting in pozos and going through all the communities was both good and bad for me. it was good because i got to see and be in the communities with the people, which is always fantastic. it was bad because 1)it made me wish again that i was living in the communities instead of the city, so i could really know the people. and 2)it made me be aware of some of the incredibly difficult realities of the communities, like depression, alcoholism, and crazy high rates of dropout (from really shitty schools to begin with). pero, sigo aprendiendo. i keep learning.

this weekend i'm traveling briefly to a town called queretaro, then next week quickly to guadalajara, the next weekend back to pozos, and the next weekend to guadalajara to really see the city. i know, it's a rough life i lead.

thanks for checking in!

a profile

2009-06-22T14:22:00.000-05:00

this is francisco. i would guess he's around 60 years old and he works primarily in tending goats that are used for various purposes. however, he is also a prominent leader in his community, Tamaula, made up of about 50 families, in which the most prominent problem is the lack of a clean water source. (the goats were donated, partly through the work of the foundation i'm working with.)

francisco founded Tamaula when he was 18. i imagine he hiked up this hill, with a few other people and the few animals he had, and began living. there were no roads. in fact, there was no road up to the community from the nearest highway until about 5 years ago. when the director of the foundation first went to see it, she had to go on donkey. (11 years ago.)

over the years, things had their ups and downs in the community. and at times, Francisco had to migrate to the states. and he depicts it like that: if things were going well and he could support his family, he didn't have to migrate. but, when things weren't going as well, he was forced to go.

he told us of one trip at some point in the 90s, which began with the dangerous hike through the desert with a coyote for guidance. most of us can have NO idea how horrible of a journey that is. many people go with the understanding that they may die, but figure they have very little to live for anyways, so it's worth a try. how many of us (people reading this blog) can even understand that mind set? there is an amazing organization i'm learning about called no mas muertes (no more deaths) which works by training volunteers to be in the desert where people typically walk, and giving them water and food to help them survive. one of the guys i'm volunteering with here is going directly from here to work there for a month and has done it before. he's taught me a lot. did you know that the primary strategy of the border control helicopters is to fly close to groups of migrants in the desert so that they scatter, lose each other, and die? these aren't the crazy "minutemen" with rifles (although a lot of them do exist), but rather the employees of the US government.

anyways, back to francisco. when he made it through the desert, he was put into the back of a truck with 40 people. he said it was the most terrifying and painful thing he's ever experienced. he thought for sure he was going to die in the truck. he made it out, and was put on a plane (proof that this was a while ago, and pre-9/11). he didn't speak any english, so he didn't know that the food on the plane was free. he hadn't eaten for 3 days, but he didn't eat it because he didn't have any money.

during that trip, he stayed for a couple years, sending the money back to his family in Tamaula, and returned as soon as he was able. i believe he has gone to the states a total of 3 or 4 times (in the same manner), for a total of 6 or 7 years.

francisco is a very intelligent and eloquent man. he explained clearly that he and his family are very happy in tamaula, they just need to figure out a way to find clean water and buy a tank to store it in. he didn't complain, he wasn't angry, and he offered our group a really delicious lunch.

i don't want to idealize the situation. tamaula isn't perfect. there are issues between francisco's family and the family that owns the other half of the goats. i'm also not proposing a solution to US migration or saying that everyone should be allowed to enter the states. i'm simply trying to offer up a realistic example of a migration story, like the ones i hear every day, rather than many of the things reported in the news of drug-traffic-ers and swine-flu-carriers.

i hope to add more of some of the things i'm learning through the people that live them. thanks for reading.

michoacan

2009-06-17T09:29:00.000-05:00

so, this past weekend, all the current summer volunteers (me, 3 students from UNC, 3 from notre dame, and about 15 from iberoamericana in mexico city) went with adriana to a nearby state called michoacan. we went to visit some of the small towns around and to meet some of the local artists. it was a really great time and i took a TON of pictures. so, i'm going to post a couple here and write about them, and then i'll put the rest up on facebook later.

this is a town we visited on the first day (after driving for like 4 hours in an '89 volkswagon van, which didn't have any type of stereo, of course, so we decided to sing the whole way there. the guys driving led the songs/yells, including screaming WOODSTOCK!, so they were mostly in spanish, but every once in a while they'd switch to either beatles or disney songs so we could sing along. we called it the "coche feliz" "happy car").

anyways, this town is called patzcuaro, and this was a performance of a dance called the dance of the viejitos (old men). it's a traditional folkloric dance in this state. it was really fun to sit in the plaza and people watch. and it made me think a lot of cuzco, peru, for some reason.

this was the tiny little town we stayed in over the weekend. they were celebrating the catholic holiday of corpus cristi, which, in this town i guess, entails putting up this HUGE pole/cross thing the night before and then letting people try to climb it the next night, during the fiesta (see below). we went to watch them put this up (with one tractor and mostly by hand with ropes) because people kept screaming when it seemed like it was going to fall, and we wanted to see what was going on. fascinating.

this is a mural facing the plaza. it is INCREDIBLE. this is only a small part of it, but it had a lot of indigenous images (there are still many people who speak an indigenous language in the town) and also an image of emiliano zapata, along with phrases like "this community has said ENOUGH" and "restoration of communal lands."

after visiting a small tequila/mezcal distillery, on the second day we went to this mask workshop/store. every mask is made by hand, and many of them out of one piece of wood. they were really beautiful. the second pic is to give you all a bit of my "kait" personality that i'm sure you're all missing.

and this is a copper workshop that we went to after. again, everything is made by hand, and we even got to help hammer some pieces of copper fresh out of the fire. it was really interesting.

this is a shot of where we stopped for a quick lunch after the workshops and got these amazing, although pretty greasy, cheesy quesadillas for 10 pesos, which is less than $1US. a beautiful thing.

this is a shot of the guy that we saw get the highest on the pole thing. he was also the first and he was pretty built. he's about a THIRD of the way up, if that. so, at that point, we realized that as it got darker and everyone got drunker, there was NO way anyone was going to make it up. eventually people started trying to do pyramids and stand on each others shoulders, but it still didn't work. we DID however talk the guys in our group into giving it a try. "cmon!" i said, "don't you realized how much this crowd would love to see a bunch of gringos get up and try it! they're already staring at us as the only white people in town, you might as well give it a go!" they didn't make it very far. the picture below is everyone watching.

this was when we tried to talk our boys into trying. don't you especially love jack--the guy in the pink polo? he's this quiet guy who doesn't speak a ton of spanish and while we were just standing watching, this guy came up to him and said (in spanish), "excuse me, but my niece would like to take a picture with you. is that okay?" ja, that's what i mean by the ONLY white people there.

and then these last two are the final fiesta for the corpus cristi thing. there was a live band playing "banda" music, which is a style of dance that is basically running in place, sometimes with a bit more flare. and we did it for about 3 hours. it was really really great. (and ps--i think both of these pictures were taken about at eye level.)

ok, so that's a summary of a long but great weekend, in which i took 200 pictures. thanks for checking in on the blog!

more fotos

2009-06-10T15:29:00.000-05:00

check them out here

it didn't take long...

2009-06-04T18:34:00.000-05:00

well, as i should have prepared for after my experience in chile, i realized that when i'm in travel mode, a guitar is really important to me. i don't even write that much, but there's something about playing, and especially singing, that is a huge comfort for me. it was handmade in a nearby state here in mexico. which means, it's pretty, but it's not of top quality sound. but luckily, it was really cheap. so, it'll be a nice souvenir if i decide to take it back with me. a quick foto below.

a few more pictures

2009-06-02T11:31:00.000-05:00

click here for some pictures with descriptions from last week.

besos!

happy birthday mama! feliz cumpleanos!

2009-06-02T11:16:00.000-05:00

so much.

2009-05-27T18:44:00.000-05:00

i'm honestly not usually one to take a ton of pictures. in the last 2 days, i took 125. i was surrounded by so much beauty. it was impossible not to. i'll post a few below.

yesterday, we started by going to a government meeting in a school in one of the communities to discuss some projects--an interesting look into mexican bureaucracy. then, we went immediately to a hotel owned-by and primarily for gringos. i have to admit, i would get married there in a second (they do weddings, although almost all canceled for the summer because of swine flu.) it is really a paradise. incredible. i put some pictures up of it before, at least on facebook, if not on the blog.

next, we went back to the community called 'el gusano' that i stayed at last week. we went to drop off some other US students that will be working there and to have lunch. the girls cooked for us and it was delicious! and from there, we went to another community, this one a bit larger (about 2000 ish people) and with a bit more wealth in select parts. there are a good number of americans there, working on forming it into more of a tourist spot, which would actually be pretty great for the people there. we stayed in one of these peoples houses. and i kid you not, AMAZING. it is the most beautiful house i have ever been in. there were either plants or art or both covering every inch. it was really incredible. i was more in awe than i have ever been of a home before. he even had a signed picture of the rat pack. unbelievable. and most of the art and plants are local. cactii (?) everywhere. oh, and they made us pina coladas when we got there to sip on as we rested/toured.

in the morning, we got up slowly, had an amazing breakfast, left the other US student that will be staying there and working for a couple weeks, and then went around the community to meet some people and see the projects they're working on. the main project there is doll-making. i was really taken aback by how beautiful the dolls where. hand-made.

okay, some fotos below.

ok, this first one is of the gringo hotel. this is where they have weddings. i'm totally filing it away.

this is a few of the kids in el gusano watching a movie. they are really great.

this is the foyer area of the amazing house. the green plants everywhere was almost too much. but not, of course. it was at that table that they (it was actually the couple that helps take care of the house, mexicans, as the owners were in a different town for a couple days), made us dinner, including grilled tuna fillet for adriana and i since we are vegetarians. (we were still sipping on the pina coladas). as much as i dog capatalism sometimes, there are times when i am okay with reaping the benefits...
NOT pictured: the huge TV and unending moving selection, the life-size statues of pirates and a wizard (the owner has a thing for pirates), the signed rat pick or al pacino/scarface pictures, the swimming pool, the horse corral, the random outdoor dining room thing, the two little side houses, etc, etc, etc.

this was the view from my room in the morning. i also got some amazing shots of the sunset, but i seriously couldnt pick just one...

and yes, mom, they even had a chihuahua. (along with a HUGE german shepherd.)

these are the dolls that are made. the pictures arent great because they were behind a plastic sheet thing. im sure i'll get better ones in the future.

and this is a hand-made and -carved drum from another art shop. the art in this town was incredible.

and these were the ruins of what used to be a mine/mining house thing. it was a big mining town until the 50s.

okay, i just had to update. if i didnt get some of it out, i knew id get backed up. plus, i'm thinking about traveling this weekend, which would mean no blog updates. i'll be in touch though.

thanks for reading. feel free to email me with stories or fotos of immense beauty in your own lives!
besitos.
kati