Sunday, March 15, 2009
Perfect for the last week of winter
It was forgotten, what the flu felt like. The bones are not as smarting so perhaps it´s only a cold. Of course my last day in a foreign country would turn out like this.
The only cold medicine at hand was the same injested into my body a couple of weeks ago. It is advised that person with diseases of the thyroid (posit loud faux cough here) should not take ¨GT¨ and that one should not take corticosteroids (cough)with it. When the medicine was taken two weeks ago, my chest received an hour or so of mild pain around the heart. It didn´t feel like an artery, but more like heartburn. But it cured the cold really fast.
The hot shower taken did not. After one efervescent tablet, the pressure is already building in my chest. A little bit.
Almost as if something had been locked away, kept down out of my reach during that whole time in Xela, now coming out violently.
Digesting my lunch is difficult. At best, one can observe all of the little details,the nuances of the movement of the food going down. People always respond to the idea perplexed. But it´s a good habit to get into.
It´s remembered now that the heartburn was preceded by super slow digestion. Urgh.
The only cold medicine at hand was the same injested into my body a couple of weeks ago. It is advised that person with diseases of the thyroid (posit loud faux cough here) should not take ¨GT¨ and that one should not take corticosteroids (cough)with it. When the medicine was taken two weeks ago, my chest received an hour or so of mild pain around the heart. It didn´t feel like an artery, but more like heartburn. But it cured the cold really fast.
The hot shower taken did not. After one efervescent tablet, the pressure is already building in my chest. A little bit.
Almost as if something had been locked away, kept down out of my reach during that whole time in Xela, now coming out violently.
Digesting my lunch is difficult. At best, one can observe all of the little details,the nuances of the movement of the food going down. People always respond to the idea perplexed. But it´s a good habit to get into.
It´s remembered now that the heartburn was preceded by super slow digestion. Urgh.
The lense of ¨Orientialism¨ in Central America
Back in Guate with Jessica´s family who are so insanely endearing and our conversations have provided a good metric in determining how well the Spanish is improved.
Miguel Angel Garcia still speaks rather slow when trying to explain things, perhaps because he wants to speak more in english, and because we are usually talking about things that bring out our differences. While watching CNN ¨En Español¨, he said something to the affect that Islam was a violent religion. He was responded to by my reminder that the media in the west doesn´t really give a fair representation of the middle east. But before the point was solidified, it occurred to me that the Koran does not condemn violence to the extent that the bible does. The words that came out of my mouth can be translated into the following: it wasn´t until the 13th century that christianity was given an intellectual justification for violence by St. Thomas Aquinas.
This noticably shocked him which provoked me into explaining further by contrasting the bible with the Koran. He then explained with great difficulty --which is still currently attributed to his kind accomadation, thinking that my listening comprehension is even worse than it is-- his catholic beliefs, mentioning the planets in the universe and taking a turn to an anecdote where the governmentin France once declared that God has died. It is almost suspected that he was going to follow that one up with bad luck that followed France. He was about to receive the question which surely causes rifts within many christian communities: does he believe in an interventionist god? If so, what does he not intervene in? But he received his seventh phone call from clients who want to stay at his hotel.
Miguel Angel Garcia still speaks rather slow when trying to explain things, perhaps because he wants to speak more in english, and because we are usually talking about things that bring out our differences. While watching CNN ¨En Español¨, he said something to the affect that Islam was a violent religion. He was responded to by my reminder that the media in the west doesn´t really give a fair representation of the middle east. But before the point was solidified, it occurred to me that the Koran does not condemn violence to the extent that the bible does. The words that came out of my mouth can be translated into the following: it wasn´t until the 13th century that christianity was given an intellectual justification for violence by St. Thomas Aquinas.
This noticably shocked him which provoked me into explaining further by contrasting the bible with the Koran. He then explained with great difficulty --which is still currently attributed to his kind accomadation, thinking that my listening comprehension is even worse than it is-- his catholic beliefs, mentioning the planets in the universe and taking a turn to an anecdote where the governmentin France once declared that God has died. It is almost suspected that he was going to follow that one up with bad luck that followed France. He was about to receive the question which surely causes rifts within many christian communities: does he believe in an interventionist god? If so, what does he not intervene in? But he received his seventh phone call from clients who want to stay at his hotel.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
For example:
What can for one person who is an object as easily as a subject
Is doable for all
The car sells itself, bread sells itself
and...it can be done (no human interlocutor intrudes upon the pure commerce)
surely not from brand USA
the self esteemer
Don´t make me say it with a straight face: yes it can.
What can? The aforementioned action
Is doable for all
The car sells itself, bread sells itself
and...it can be done (no human interlocutor intrudes upon the pure commerce)
surely not from brand USA
the self esteemer
Don´t make me say it with a straight face: yes it can.
What can? The aforementioned action
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Another random list
Would be curious to see the results of experiments testing how Guatemalan reflexes and peripheral vision compare on average to the average gringo; the side walks are very narrow here, which means that you have to be much more careful when passing somebody. The polite thing to do is walk on the edge, usually not more than three feet or less from the passing cars on the busy street. We also must take into account the cracks on the edges.
Smoking in public spaces with at least a roof or one wall is now against the law in Guatemala. And yet no one pays much attention to pollution from the many automobiles (many without mufflers) or the garbage on the street. Although it must be said that the city of Xela has a clean up crew that works a lot.
All of the great coffee from this country is exported.
While many families still prefer honey and other natural sweetners, we can say that high fructose corn syrup, referred to in lazy (thus deceptive) spanish translations as ¨jarabe de Maize¨ (corn syrup), has made a full invasion.
¨War of the End of the World¨ by Mario Vargas Llosa is currently being read. It´s a well told fictional tale based on the famous 1896-97 ¨War of Canudos¨ between newly empire-turned-republic Brazil and a very diverse but mostly religious group of peasants in Canudos in the north eastern state of Bahia. It´s written by a Peruvian and has been sighted by multiple critics as the ¨War and Peace¨of Latin America. Although it does not seem as philosophically or narratively ambitious--but don´t think that size has anything to do with it. It seems that Vargas Llosa has a penchant for revealing the futility and destructiveness that ideologies (and ideals)brings to individuals who hold them. It is wondered how much of this is in turn from his own ideological bent. We´ll see years later. It cannot be resisted that he had a falling out with the new Left almost 40 years ago (by extension many of his contemporary literary friends like Marquez), but autobiography should be resisted. So far his depiction of characters is flawless.
It was formerly assumed that only eccentric old men in twenty something bodies like my good friend Konrad (very much influenced by his Southern Kansas grandfather who never wore his work clothes into town)held the view that people shouldn´t run unless they´re formally exercising. After two and a half months in Guatemala, this view seems more widespread in the states. Here it is not ignoble to be an adult (and overweight) to be running from point a to point B. Local Guatemaltelcos do it here all of the time--that is to say they run in their regular clothes to get to where they´re going.
There is a certain body type of woman that always rides a scooter of Vespa in these parts. They are voluptuous, with big breasts, slightly big bellies and always wearing business slacks, if not the full attire and always wear their long hair far down. It is almost as if the shape of the seat and the space between it and the handle bars carved the woman´s curves. It´s really tantalizing.
In San Pedro Laguna it was discovered that the face was finally able to grow real sideburn hair! This is the kind of news usually told to a friend at random. In April of 06 it was armpit hair that was discovered, in August of 04 it was butt hair. It seems to have come in the wrong order. Is anyone else interested in comparing notes?
Still wanting to probe the subjunctive and the use of impersonal clauses with or without reflexive pronouns. It is also interesting that the passive voice is used so often and likewise with the refelexives, stores advertise themselves with their products rather than using themselves: ¨Se Vende tortillas¨ (tortillas sell themselves)
Poetics: more radically literal phrases have been translated from Spanish. There´s quite a lot of ¨accidental metaphysics¨ that comes out of it.
Smoking in public spaces with at least a roof or one wall is now against the law in Guatemala. And yet no one pays much attention to pollution from the many automobiles (many without mufflers) or the garbage on the street. Although it must be said that the city of Xela has a clean up crew that works a lot.
All of the great coffee from this country is exported.
While many families still prefer honey and other natural sweetners, we can say that high fructose corn syrup, referred to in lazy (thus deceptive) spanish translations as ¨jarabe de Maize¨ (corn syrup), has made a full invasion.
¨War of the End of the World¨ by Mario Vargas Llosa is currently being read. It´s a well told fictional tale based on the famous 1896-97 ¨War of Canudos¨ between newly empire-turned-republic Brazil and a very diverse but mostly religious group of peasants in Canudos in the north eastern state of Bahia. It´s written by a Peruvian and has been sighted by multiple critics as the ¨War and Peace¨of Latin America. Although it does not seem as philosophically or narratively ambitious--but don´t think that size has anything to do with it. It seems that Vargas Llosa has a penchant for revealing the futility and destructiveness that ideologies (and ideals)brings to individuals who hold them. It is wondered how much of this is in turn from his own ideological bent. We´ll see years later. It cannot be resisted that he had a falling out with the new Left almost 40 years ago (by extension many of his contemporary literary friends like Marquez), but autobiography should be resisted. So far his depiction of characters is flawless.
It was formerly assumed that only eccentric old men in twenty something bodies like my good friend Konrad (very much influenced by his Southern Kansas grandfather who never wore his work clothes into town)held the view that people shouldn´t run unless they´re formally exercising. After two and a half months in Guatemala, this view seems more widespread in the states. Here it is not ignoble to be an adult (and overweight) to be running from point a to point B. Local Guatemaltelcos do it here all of the time--that is to say they run in their regular clothes to get to where they´re going.
There is a certain body type of woman that always rides a scooter of Vespa in these parts. They are voluptuous, with big breasts, slightly big bellies and always wearing business slacks, if not the full attire and always wear their long hair far down. It is almost as if the shape of the seat and the space between it and the handle bars carved the woman´s curves. It´s really tantalizing.
In San Pedro Laguna it was discovered that the face was finally able to grow real sideburn hair! This is the kind of news usually told to a friend at random. In April of 06 it was armpit hair that was discovered, in August of 04 it was butt hair. It seems to have come in the wrong order. Is anyone else interested in comparing notes?
Still wanting to probe the subjunctive and the use of impersonal clauses with or without reflexive pronouns. It is also interesting that the passive voice is used so often and likewise with the refelexives, stores advertise themselves with their products rather than using themselves: ¨Se Vende tortillas¨ (tortillas sell themselves)
Poetics: more radically literal phrases have been translated from Spanish. There´s quite a lot of ¨accidental metaphysics¨ that comes out of it.
Slow and deliberate
More slavery to time is what keeps the alienation lit. Or rather slavery to the questioning of the perception of time (how much is available). Actually, the parinoia that has been there for what seems like forever is more culpable than anything else.
That is to say that no one else should be blamed.
Some of the fellow volunteers are extremely kind and generous in the information they offer and ask for. One in particular, Andrew from California, who at the beginning introduced himself as Andrès, has the most endearing disposition. If it were not for my more extreme circumstances, more big sibling instincts would have been felt for him. Instead, it´s the other way around. After being mugged at knife-point in the most dangerous spot in the town he expressed very sincere sympathy for me, as if my body and my idea of myself had been violated. After comparing host families, where it was indicated that Estuardo and Alejandra treated me merely as a guest than a member of the family, Andrew again apologized with sympathy as if my body and my idea of myself had been violated.
It´s not what he says. It´s how he says it. He just started Spanish and it´s been impressive how continuously he speaks it. More than anyone else, he will keep speaking it with non native spanish speakers...slowly and deliberately. Chillingly reminiscent of Miguel, my friend in Guatemala City with fragile health ...was also reminded of the way a childhood friend, Travis Stiffler, who taught me half of the dirty US english words, performed in street fights. Travis always appeared to be hitting like a slug if not an outright typical girl, but he actually packed a powerful punch. To my knowledge, he never lost a fight and not many would fuck with him.
Yes. Slowly and deliberately--also like my best friend and giant of a human being, Mauro Nobre. Mauro has a towering intellect and it is maddening to have debates with him due in large measure to the slow pace in which he speaks (that it is probably due in part that he didn´t pick up english until 17, past the peak of the brain´s plasticity, does not make it more acceptable).
Andrew walks, talks and dances very slowly without mistakes. His gentle disposition makes it seem as if he would not do much, but he was the most enthusiastic dancer in the whole bunch. His body willed itself around to salsa way more than mine. On his last night in Xela, at a table of twelve volunteers in a restaraunt/apartment house (amazing dutch styled curry!) he and Claire, this tall beatiful spunky nursing student from central Minnesota did some turns. It was strange to see them together, she and her long limbs and thespian constitution and he, shorter, low toned in his puffy beard, faded jeans that are baggy at the ankles and in streaky eyeglasses, moving like a patient with a terminal illness--and yet with such grace. While he did make some mistakes amid the attemp of familiarizing himself with her significantly longer reach, he obviously knows how to dance. And so gentle.
Even though there is only one week left here, Andres will be missed.
That is to say that no one else should be blamed.
Some of the fellow volunteers are extremely kind and generous in the information they offer and ask for. One in particular, Andrew from California, who at the beginning introduced himself as Andrès, has the most endearing disposition. If it were not for my more extreme circumstances, more big sibling instincts would have been felt for him. Instead, it´s the other way around. After being mugged at knife-point in the most dangerous spot in the town he expressed very sincere sympathy for me, as if my body and my idea of myself had been violated. After comparing host families, where it was indicated that Estuardo and Alejandra treated me merely as a guest than a member of the family, Andrew again apologized with sympathy as if my body and my idea of myself had been violated.
It´s not what he says. It´s how he says it. He just started Spanish and it´s been impressive how continuously he speaks it. More than anyone else, he will keep speaking it with non native spanish speakers...slowly and deliberately. Chillingly reminiscent of Miguel, my friend in Guatemala City with fragile health ...was also reminded of the way a childhood friend, Travis Stiffler, who taught me half of the dirty US english words, performed in street fights. Travis always appeared to be hitting like a slug if not an outright typical girl, but he actually packed a powerful punch. To my knowledge, he never lost a fight and not many would fuck with him.
Yes. Slowly and deliberately--also like my best friend and giant of a human being, Mauro Nobre. Mauro has a towering intellect and it is maddening to have debates with him due in large measure to the slow pace in which he speaks (that it is probably due in part that he didn´t pick up english until 17, past the peak of the brain´s plasticity, does not make it more acceptable).
Andrew walks, talks and dances very slowly without mistakes. His gentle disposition makes it seem as if he would not do much, but he was the most enthusiastic dancer in the whole bunch. His body willed itself around to salsa way more than mine. On his last night in Xela, at a table of twelve volunteers in a restaraunt/apartment house (amazing dutch styled curry!) he and Claire, this tall beatiful spunky nursing student from central Minnesota did some turns. It was strange to see them together, she and her long limbs and thespian constitution and he, shorter, low toned in his puffy beard, faded jeans that are baggy at the ankles and in streaky eyeglasses, moving like a patient with a terminal illness--and yet with such grace. While he did make some mistakes amid the attemp of familiarizing himself with her significantly longer reach, he obviously knows how to dance. And so gentle.
Even though there is only one week left here, Andres will be missed.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Waiting for Catastrophes
Last Tuesday and Thursday mornings, a wonderful 25 minute bike ride was had, to and from a primary school that calls itself La Cuchilla, to teach english. The roads are dangerous and the bikes are in bad shape. Wearing a helmet is resisted. Fear of violent crash against the pavement is only had when alone in my room. More experience is needed to learn to be even more alert and safe which ironically will help attenuate or exterminate the fear of death.
Down to my last physical Quetzal, as the Lawrence Bank has discovered that my debit card became compromised. Almost two weeks were spent attempting to withdraw cash from about 6 machines around the city of Xela. Before making the phone call, my host mother, Alejandra thought she might of overheard on the news that a major problem has occured with many banks in Kansas. Something about them being out of money -- we still have the FDIC right?
It should be noted that my person could not and did not confirm the story. No one else has confirmed and there is no time to look it up. Amidst the US-led world economic crisis, the worst has been anticipated, though not prepared for.
It now turns out that it was a problem with Visa.
Even if money had been posessed these past couple weeks, not much more would have been bought. No desire exists to go out. Tourist traps abound, and most of the fellow volunteers at the school seem to reveal little enthusiasm for one on one conversations. Is it possible that one on one conversations actually make most people more timid than in large groups? After several attempts at conversation, which should not be had anyway given the need to practice my tortured spanish, most of the volunteers worked with betray an inpeneterable gloominess and tepidity (lack of intellectual curiosity).
This is not a judgement on them (although a couple of them are quite cold), because most of them undoubtedly suffer from what will be referred to here as the ¨fulltime student syndrome¨. They have very little time to enjoy actual academic learning. After an informal studying of this syndrome in friends and acqaintences a hypothesis occured to the the question of why so many mistake my mere average intelligence for above average intelligence: it´s because at the end of most days my embodied mind is not as fatigued as theirs. Having slightly less than a full two years of actual formal university training as allowed more time to enjoy the intellectual discoveries made and discuss them
After studying and teaching, the days are spent in my bedroom trudging trough ¨cien años de soledad¨, 495 pages in over three weeks. The richness of the vocabulary is amazing and maddening. Looking at the english translation by Gregory Rabassa, it is obvious that he grew lazy at times omitting whole sentences or replacing words to get the idea of the function of an object across to the english reader rather than also allow its aesthetic properties to carry over.
When breaks are taken, capricious and sometimes half hearted attempts at writing are made. Reading poetry in english is strictly reserved for the toilet. Attempts at conversation with Sedi (Alejandra) and Estuardo are made, but seldom successful; there was a night in which an explanation of the health care system in the US and the proposed Single Payer plan was given. Another night where comprehension of their religion was gained. Comprehension of the sentences which formed a theological view point taken in the evangelical church they attend (not that religion as a practice will ever make sense to me).
Overall the lesson learned is that my body should have been armed with a vocabulary used by young parents. Everything revolves around little David Estuardo, also affectionately called, ¨Pappy¨ and ¨Nini¨. El Nahual, contrary to what is indicated by their website, is currently functioning ONLY as a school (english, spanish, art and cooking) with a garden and a construction site for a new building. It is hard to practice Spanish with kids who are either there to learn from you or ride your shoulders. Nothing to talk about.
And fuck the weather 365 days and 20 Nahuals over!! Though it must be qualified that the wind´s impact on the accumulation of dust in conflict with our bearings is something to behold.
It would be nice to meet one more guatemalteca who could at least humor me with some plàtica (conversation). There are two females reappearing in my fantasies and they are both great friends in Lawrence. Knowing that deep bonds with native Spanish speakers are impossible to make in the three weeks that are left, Lawrence is finally missed.
Inside my head is much more comfortable. It has managed to house a lot of dreams in Spanish. But thinking in it requires much more.
Failure. A big headache is forming and it could not be dehydration. Weeks have passed since yellow has been pissed. ¿A donde se va desde aqui?
Coming soon: either a story from one of those previously surrendered titles, or an article about a progressive model of education witnessed at a school. Pedogogy in general as gotten into the gears, possibly replacing butterflies on my list of infinite would be hobbies.
Down to my last physical Quetzal, as the Lawrence Bank has discovered that my debit card became compromised. Almost two weeks were spent attempting to withdraw cash from about 6 machines around the city of Xela. Before making the phone call, my host mother, Alejandra thought she might of overheard on the news that a major problem has occured with many banks in Kansas. Something about them being out of money -- we still have the FDIC right?
It should be noted that my person could not and did not confirm the story. No one else has confirmed and there is no time to look it up. Amidst the US-led world economic crisis, the worst has been anticipated, though not prepared for.
It now turns out that it was a problem with Visa.
Even if money had been posessed these past couple weeks, not much more would have been bought. No desire exists to go out. Tourist traps abound, and most of the fellow volunteers at the school seem to reveal little enthusiasm for one on one conversations. Is it possible that one on one conversations actually make most people more timid than in large groups? After several attempts at conversation, which should not be had anyway given the need to practice my tortured spanish, most of the volunteers worked with betray an inpeneterable gloominess and tepidity (lack of intellectual curiosity).
This is not a judgement on them (although a couple of them are quite cold), because most of them undoubtedly suffer from what will be referred to here as the ¨fulltime student syndrome¨. They have very little time to enjoy actual academic learning. After an informal studying of this syndrome in friends and acqaintences a hypothesis occured to the the question of why so many mistake my mere average intelligence for above average intelligence: it´s because at the end of most days my embodied mind is not as fatigued as theirs. Having slightly less than a full two years of actual formal university training as allowed more time to enjoy the intellectual discoveries made and discuss them
After studying and teaching, the days are spent in my bedroom trudging trough ¨cien años de soledad¨, 495 pages in over three weeks. The richness of the vocabulary is amazing and maddening. Looking at the english translation by Gregory Rabassa, it is obvious that he grew lazy at times omitting whole sentences or replacing words to get the idea of the function of an object across to the english reader rather than also allow its aesthetic properties to carry over.
When breaks are taken, capricious and sometimes half hearted attempts at writing are made. Reading poetry in english is strictly reserved for the toilet. Attempts at conversation with Sedi (Alejandra) and Estuardo are made, but seldom successful; there was a night in which an explanation of the health care system in the US and the proposed Single Payer plan was given. Another night where comprehension of their religion was gained. Comprehension of the sentences which formed a theological view point taken in the evangelical church they attend (not that religion as a practice will ever make sense to me).
Overall the lesson learned is that my body should have been armed with a vocabulary used by young parents. Everything revolves around little David Estuardo, also affectionately called, ¨Pappy¨ and ¨Nini¨. El Nahual, contrary to what is indicated by their website, is currently functioning ONLY as a school (english, spanish, art and cooking) with a garden and a construction site for a new building. It is hard to practice Spanish with kids who are either there to learn from you or ride your shoulders. Nothing to talk about.
And fuck the weather 365 days and 20 Nahuals over!! Though it must be qualified that the wind´s impact on the accumulation of dust in conflict with our bearings is something to behold.
It would be nice to meet one more guatemalteca who could at least humor me with some plàtica (conversation). There are two females reappearing in my fantasies and they are both great friends in Lawrence. Knowing that deep bonds with native Spanish speakers are impossible to make in the three weeks that are left, Lawrence is finally missed.
Inside my head is much more comfortable. It has managed to house a lot of dreams in Spanish. But thinking in it requires much more.
Failure. A big headache is forming and it could not be dehydration. Weeks have passed since yellow has been pissed. ¿A donde se va desde aqui?
Coming soon: either a story from one of those previously surrendered titles, or an article about a progressive model of education witnessed at a school. Pedogogy in general as gotten into the gears, possibly replacing butterflies on my list of infinite would be hobbies.
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