Common Threads & Treads

Tadpoles

2011-05-26T09:44:00.006+02:00

I spent half of my childhood exploring a portion of the wild outback of the San Joaquin River bank. Having a backyard that basically backed up to a river sounds a lot more glamorous than it was. For starters, this portion of the river was rurally desolate and it was a known trash bucket area. To top it all off, the river was dry almost the entire season. Either the snow melt had already been sucked dry by the heat or the dam prevented its passage through beautiful ol Visalia's farm land. My sisters and I would go on safaris over the sandy paths that had been paved by the classy dirt bikers living on the other side. We would ride the treacherous paths on our mountain bikes and give these "streets" incredibly creative names like "Snake Path" for the one where we rolled over a big dead snake in our way or "Sunday Drive" for the path that had very little undulating hill excitement. The dry river bed also became my exercise route with the sheep that I would eventually raise as part of the 4-H club. That is a topic for another day. Occasionally some water would trickle through only to dry up soon after. In its wake would be puddled remnants of its passing. Those puddles were homes to large numbers of tadpoles. I returned to these tadpole homes often fascinated as I watched them morph into frog like creatures. Most often though, the puddles would begin to dry up before the tadpoles could fully develop into froggy adulthood. I started to collect as many as I could (without getting caught by my parents) so I could watch them grow and survive at home where I wouldn't allow the water to dry up. It didn't always work. You can't win them all I guess.

I feel like my job has me monitoring tadpole children and trying to place them in environments where they are no longer prevented from developing as they should. We don't have enough volunteers to help facilitate those environments and that is frustrating. But there are times when we get that one tadpole in safer waters and watch them thrive. That feels good. I recently spent a lot of time researching the developmental stages of children's drawings for a presentation I gave to the volunteers. Interestingly, I discovered that researchers call the drawings of 2-5 year olds "tadpole" figures. How appropriate.

MAY I SPEAK TO THE MALE HEAD OF THE HOUSEHOLD?

2010-11-18T01:42:00.006+01:00

No, you may not! Because not only is there NO male head of my household, but how dare you assume that the male is THE head of the household if there were!

This was asked to me by some telemarketer from a company I can't remember anymore. All I remember is being annoyed that they not only were disturbing me (how did they get my mobile #?), but that hey proceeded to consider my opinion (as the non-male head of the household) not initially valid for their sales pitch!

Maybe it's because I live in the NW where singlehood or unmarried relationships are the majority, but it seems to me that the idea of the "male head" and traditional nuclear family is a thing of the past. I'm not saying this is either good or bad, but as a single 20-something myself, I am happy to be experiencing the options

My surprise at this tele-encounter prompted me to watch the documentary *single, because the style of questioning that continued made me seriously consider how society's structure is changing, and along with it, the ego.

From the film, I learned that, not surprisingly, Americans now spend more time in their adult life single than married. There are several factors; most people are marrying later, high numbers of divorces, longer life spans (leading to widowhood). Singlehood is no longer a transition state. It is marriage that is a transition time from one single life to another single life. Today, life is a buffet with many alternatives. And this is a worldwide revolution.

Of course, women have a lot to do with this. Because there has been such a change in the role of women, there are less reasons for women to get hitched. Also, society tells us that it's all about the self... self-gratification, individualism, personal accomplishments. So, why would anyone today want to give that up to make room for another ego?

One woman said that delayed marriage is a sign that most Americans really value marriage and don't want to enter it lightly - just because society says they should. Divorce rates are already lowering because of this trend.

So society, "marriage isn't the only game in town". And I really do like games.

And that is why I told the telemarketer "how dare you assume there is a male head!" And continued my hotheaded rage for the remainder of his attempt to communicate.

How to spot a bad novel.

2010-04-15T22:08:00.004+02:00

Don't judge a book by a cover, right? Well that's fine, but it is easy to judge a book by the cover description. A summary reveals a lot. Least of all, the quality of authorship. I have decided after too many hours of my life spent on reading bad books - romance escape novels- that I have found there is a method of elimination prior to reading. Read on...

3) If there is a mention of a pet or animal in the summary. Put down the book. The author relies too heavily on this non-speaking character to make up for the lack of dialogue creativity and character depth. Relying enough that the "character" is included in the book jacket. No Go.

2) If the heroine is mentioned to have any degree of low self-esteem and you must read on to find out how the male role fills the void. Do I need to mention why? Not true to reality.

And Finally...

1) If the heroine or protagonist is an author/journalist him/herself. NO WAY. The author cannot "think outside the box", so to speak. There is nothing more irritating than reading about a writer. As if the writers themselves have no imagination, but take us on a ride through their dream world. It's a little less easy to relate to the journalists problems of investigation and writing as they struggle to with romance over success. This story line is predictably OVERUSED.

No more bad melo-dramatic romance novels for me. I must mention, the books these are based on would not have been read, had they not been given to me and recommended to read. And so now I recommend, stick to your instincts. Do judge a book by its (summarized) cover.

encounters of a good kind

2010-03-19T00:29:00.004+01:00

Every once in a while, you sit next to people, stand in line with, or pass people who end up impacting you unexpectedly.

Today I sat down in a familiar and favorite cafe in SE Portland. When I walked in I was greeted in French, of which I replied, "excuse me?" Definitely not anticipating a French quick thinking. I was seated next to an older man just finishing his breakfast and daily crossword. Once gone, he was replaced by a similar, albeit more talkative man, just beginning his breakfast and crossword puzzle. He was interested in talking a little, so I shared with him my little place in the world. We both continued with our breakfast and coffee. Me, with my books. Him, with his crossword.

I like these encounters. Each person feels a sense of connection to the other in some, in the least small way, like our choice of breakfast locations. He had connected to me in a fatherly sense, having daughters like myself. Once he was getting ready to leave, he told me he hoped for my safety and best in my future vocation. He said he would begin praying for me the moment he started walking out the door and that, although we may meet people that we will never see again, he knew that God put people in our lives for a reason.

He also mentioned that he hoped I knew some self-defense or boxing techniques. (Funny thing to mention to a "peacy") I was able to reassure him that I had taken up Aikido, so no worries here.

voices

2010-03-18T07:29:00.004+01:00

I don't know many people who like the sound of their voice once they have heard it recorded. I am no different. There was an administrator at my university that had a very melodic and soothing voice, who when you heard her speak, you were either lulled into sleep or very extremely attentive to her enticing voice. I wonder if she had a problem hearing her own voice recorded. I know many actors say they don't watch themselves once their work is done, partly because they don't want to be narcissistic by watching themselves (and probably enjoying it) or because they're uncomfortable and don't want to see all their mistakes. Would someone admit that they actually love watching or listening to themselves? What do epic performers do, though, once they've made fantastic music, as, I would think people like Bob Dylan, Neil Young, The Beatles. What if they genuinely love their own music, like I do. That is weird right.

Well (back to my original muse) I also dislike profiled photos that display my oddly formed nose. See terrible photo above. My nose is always a delicate factor, yet I don't let it get to me. I can recall references to my nose in my adult life such as, once when I was flying on a plane somewhere, my seating neighbor, who was from Persia, struck up a conversation eventually telling me he hoped I never get a nose job and hoped that my boyfriend likes my nose. At this point I was probably supposed to say, "Oh I don't have a boyfriend" And he could make his move from there. Instead I said, "Yeah I guess he does. Thanks."

I was in a lecture class with my program director lecturing, as he does passionately on some theory or idea, when he used me and my nose as an example to make some point. All I remember about that point was that I didn't think much of it until I heard a classmate say "Oh poor Leisl." And probably nobody else got the point either, because all they could think was yeah, her nose is pretty big and odd looking. I really do sometimes forget that my nose is freakish and then some days I come home and see a big brown spot on my nose and think, "hmmm I didn't have such a big freckle there earlier today" and that's when I realize, once again, my nose got caught in my coffee and it left a mark.

So, working with lovely (sarcastic translation for snotty upper class) children, who are, of course, relentlessly honest, I have recently been informed that I would make a great witch for halloween and the reason I think things other than princesses are cool is because I already have a creepy voice. I don't fully understand, but I appreciate their honesty. Maybe I'll take their advice and with my creepy, scary voice I will grab my broom stick and sail off into the night sky.

Making Speeches

2010-02-26T00:42:00.003+01:00

Although I have often practiced them in me head, I have never written them down. My speeches are usually of thanks and hope. Retelling my story of bravery and stamina through a crisis. My fictitious fifteen minutes of fame usually come from surviving some incredibly exciting encounter; an international kidnapping, escaping a hostage situation, relief worker disaster survivor, etc. These speeches always tell of the humanity and positives of the incarcerators and encourage people to blame the true cause of the situation on the terrible injustices they have endured, leading them to this destructive point. It always results in changing the hearts and minds of the hearers. Of course, in order to ever make any of these speeches, I would have to be actually doing something significant enough to express my acknowledgements.

I recently watched Capote and learned that from the diary of one of the Cold Blooded killers was written a speech. He had written it as if one day he would be recognized for his achievements (nothing in particular), but he had written it nonetheless. It reminded me that I am also often giving a speech, in my daydreams, showers, and spacing. I haven’t read the book, but I assumed that it was an acceptance speech of sorts. Mine tend to be acceptance speeches, seeking acceptance speeches, and giving acknowledgement. There is always a nuance of educational approach. As if I am able to enlighten the population of my (felt) unbiased and all-encompassing knowledge. I am ever trying to educate I suppose, however I can non-traditionally.

I am sure that this criminal and myself are not the only people making these never-to-be-heard speeches. Do we just have this need to be heard and acknowledged for our (un)spectacular lives? I kind of think so. I don’t ever expect to get the Nobel Peace Award. But why can’t there be a Nothing Special Award, Not So Great Award, or Almost Good Award. No, I guess I don’t really want for a world that welcomes and rewards these... oh wait, I guess we're already there - handing out awards as -a promise for efforts toward peace - award (as in Obama's case).

As I reflect on my ability to make subconscious speeches, I remember that while I haven’t written a page of my Thesis… I have, months in advanced, written my Acknowledgements section. I suppose it’s my one opportunity to make that grand speech. Well, at least that part is done. Maybe I can someday finish the rest? Perhaps if I approach it as one long speech, I’ll be more inclined to get it done...

passing by

2010-02-04T02:13:00.002+01:00

Today, on my way to my ritually scheduled volunteer work downtown. I got off the bus in front of a chinese group celebrating the new year of the dragon and welcoming the coming of Christ. They had a beautiful dance, but what was their message exactly, I'm not quite sure and even though I wasn't in a huge hurry, I speedily passed them by instead of finding out.

This is my story. Speedily passing people by. I was going to say things, but that's not true it's usually just people that pass by.

This morning's episode reminds me of my recent (4 weeks to be exact) passing by the chance for romance, love at first sight, at least a decent encounter? But, like usual, I was in a fictional hurry.

The quick story is, I was approach a street corner to cross, I made eye contact with a man across the street. Twice. For a long time. And I felt something crazy. I knew I should talk to him. When I reached the other side, I stood waiting for the walk light to turn green (uncharacteristically of me) and once it did, we both began to cross. To make the story shorter, we had a short conversation as we crossed the road, a little banter, and then I crossed behind him to took the stairs down to Pioneer Court, my destination. As I did that, he paused and turned as if to say, why are you leaving this conversation so soon? There is more surely!

Why did I leave so soon? Because in my head, I needed to buy more bus tickets. But I was in no hurry... it wouldn't have killed me to continue for even just a few more blocks, and who knows where the conversation would have gone?

But as always, my mind was determined and had a destination. I was in a hurry to go nowhere.

As always. Trying to get there quickly almost always leads to a quicker downfall.

Now, I go to this corner every Wednesday, but I know my chance has passed. Once again.

Is there another serendipitous encounter possibility?

butter slicers & speakeasys

2009-07-13T06:34:00.003+02:00

In short, I am not. In long, I've just begun. Because it's the meaning behind it that matters, not the logic and practicality. Not sure I believe it. Believe it.

It was a butter slicer. Regifting gifts is one thing. I do it. We've all done it once. But donating gifts back to the giver, for their garage sale, is hurtful. I was witness. Judgements aside it's no problem of mine but they might find it hard to unwind.

Speakeasy, it's sounds cheesy but mostly it's sleazy. Beer comes cheap, conversations are weak. But the band played loud. With heart. It was well after dark and the sun would soon come out, but fingers twisting, bows sliding, and sticks beating, there was no stopping that melancholy melody. In the end I felt queasy so we ditched that speakeasy. And now that we've left, I'm feeling a bit gruff lost in this mad symphony.

Roaming

2009-04-19T22:03:00.004+02:00

I've been feeling like a roamer for almost two months now - and in a way - more like half a year.

I have barely lived in any one place for over 6 months since graduating college and this lifestyle is catching up with me. Therefore, I'm at the end of my European living, on my way back to the dreadful states. Before I leave, I'm checking out a few of the major cities that I haven't yet seen, although my money is all but dried up. From spending nights in cars, sketchy and scary hostels, to beautiful social hostels, to a luxurious cruise ship and 4star hotels, I've had a broad experience in my travels.

As I write, I'm sitting in the basement pub of the hostel I'm staying at in Prague. It's a quaint and nice atmosphere, minus the terrible English rap playing through the speakers (which really doesn't go with the antique furniture, candlelight and pint of beer). I know I'm sick of traveling when it's like pulling my own teeth to get me out the door of this nice hostel to see the sights. I would rather curl up in my bed, read my book and close out the real world. Which is the world I'm about to enter in two weeks.

I will enter the US with a few applications filled out, but no job. No money. Nowhere to live. Although I have plans for all of these, real life is about to kick in. Some fellow traveler from Australia told me, "oh sounds like you've run out of reasons to avoid the real world and you're on your way back." Good point. From teaching English, without a work visa, to completing an eclectic masters degree, I haven't really been facing things and developing my skills in work.

I would be much happier continuing my life from one fancy to another, but I'm feeling the impossibility of this and ready to head back to the place that makes me feel like like real life is unavoidable, the US. Life isn't as real in Europe, it's too beautiful, too much history, too pleasant, too other worldly for me.

I've chosen a terrible time to join the rest of the world in real life. Economic crisis have hit just about every sector, but especially the NGO world that I'm seeking. Here's to the impossibilities of job hunting and rejoining the real world!

What a Wonderful World

2009-03-17T12:09:00.004+01:00

When our worlds collide.

I hitched a free ride to Madrid this week. And this is where my Castellón world and Madrid world collide. I've become a tour guide. Something I actually love to do. For a a while I was able to take a walk alone though, something else I love to do. I had tears in my eyes. This has been my farewell tour of Spain. I am saying goodbye.

I spent a week in Malaga with friends at a resort on the beach. Wow! Then I toured the Alhambra in Granada! What a beautiful little city. This week I begin to say goodbye to Castellón and Valencia with fireworks from the Fallas. And my final farewell to Madrid will be next week.

It's a beautiful country, beautiful people, and memories. I will miss it. The transportation, the walks, the noise and smells.

I will leave my illegal residency and my unemployment in Europe. This doesn't mean forever, but for now, it feels right to head back to the states. It feels right to find a place to stay and stop moving every six months. It feels right to focus on my own community and try to make a difference there. It is sad to leave. But it just feels right.

Before I leave Europe there a few more things to see.... next up; Morocco, Italy, Germany and Turkey...

At home

2009-02-03T13:08:00.005+01:00

For years I've been saying that I never feel quite at home anywhere I go, anywhere I am. Where I grew up, where I have lived, never feels like home. My home is not of this earth. But what if it is so much of this earth that I can not just call any one place my home. Last term one of my fellow classmates always referred to my 'american-ness', which could be one of the worst things to say to me. So, finally I told Khalid how much it irritates me to be identified by my passport, because my citizenship was not by choice. Don't get me wrong, my american-ness is very much a part of my identity, but it is not my identity. I told him I have citizenship in my own nation it's called "Leislation". It's a cool place, everyone's invited. :)

I've lived a privileged life. My opportunities and choices have shown me a beautiful world that I absolutely love - I can't get enough of it! There is so much beauty, everywhere I go. Urban, agrarian. Lush, desolate. Rich, poor. It is the people, the landscape, the simple elements of a culture unknown to my own reality. There is an amazing beauty in discovering something, expanding one's own understanding of reality.

So, why am I so lost everywhere I go, never feeling at home while loving everywhere just the same? Because beauty is not all I see, and other's have shared with me their ugly reality. There are too may people hurting, too much of the landscape being destroyed, and those different cultural elements are becoming less and less distinct.

I just read a chapter by Arundhati Roy, "The End of Small Things", where she's mourning after India has announced their place in the world as a keeper of nuclear bomb. Showing the superpowers (and enemies) they are equally prepared, and reflecting on the terrible disease of state and weaponry power. In it she says something that I feel myself saying at times,

"I hereby declare myself an independent, mobile republic. I am a citizen of the earth. I own no territory. I have no flag. I'm female, but have nothing against eunuchs. My policies are simple.... Immigrants are welcome. You can help me design our flag.

My world has died. And I write to mourn its passing. Admittedly it was a flawed world. An inviable world, a scarred and wounded world. It was a world that I myself have criticised unsparingly, but only because I loved it. It didn't deserve to die. It didn't deserve to be dismembered. Forgive me, I realise that sentimentality is uncool - but what shall I do with my desolation. I loved it simply because it offered humanity a choice."

No Hope. No Fear.

2009-02-01T12:39:00.006+01:00

I'm remembering that one of my first blogs was about my Austrian Army experience 7 months ago and we are again reflecting on one of the most impacting experiences of my life. I returned from the army this term with many reflections. Most have to do with the movies in my head.

I truly wonder what it must be like to live through one day without a constant movie reel telling me what reality should be, what it could be - instead of just allowing it to just be what it is. In this Peace Studies program they often use the idea of fearing tigers. We have to notice the difference between fearing the tiger on paper versus fear in the physically present tiger.

It's the fear of this tiger on paper that will sometimes guide the events unnecessarily.

This term I had memories and expectations and somehow these combined into a weird mix of hopes and fears. I hoped for similar, challenging and fun experiences while I feared not being able to complete the tasks well. I knew I could physically do all that was expected of me, but I feared that I would finish poorly. I was the squad leader or commander of my team and because of these fears, I often made decisions for my team that would allow an outcome by which I couldn't be left responsible. I wanted neither the blame of failure nor the praise of success - I just wanted to get by.

It was a great experience, but I wish I had recognized this fear earlier so that I could have claimed responsibility for the lessons learned instead of preventing the possibility of lessons to be learned.

it's been a while...

2009-01-11T11:46:00.003+01:00

since I've updated my thought processes... but who am I kidding? It's me, I don't really have thoughts. I'm that girl who conveniently agrees to many things, disagrees with all the right things, but never actually has a critical thought of her own.

I like to read. I gain my thoughts through what I read. Currently reading Shock Doctrine: The rise of disaster Capitalism. I love it. It explains so much of why the world is the way it is right now and what we can do with it. So to really know my thoughts - read the book. That's where my thoughts lay.

Then there's the fact that I have written a terrible thesis proposal that my peers and professors will critique me on in a few days. I'm not looking forward to it because I'm still so confused as to what I should truly be focused on. I can't even write my thoughts clearly, let alone speak them.

The good news is, my mom just reminded me of my learning disability which is now, in my rediscovery, my excuse for being so unclear -dysnomia. A condition affecting the memory. Usually a difficulty in retrieving from memory the correct word when needed. I am the epitome of this disorder.

So anyway, here's to being back online (at least for the next week until I am back in the Austrian Army), here's to what's his/her name, whatchamacallit, what do you call it and whatever it is.

addiction update

2008-10-29T15:30:00.003+01:00

Sadly, at a time when I actually need some soft lovely smelling tissues, I am unable to find them.

To update a previous blog, I had been using pink rose scented tissues without reason, just because I liked them.

Now I'm in my second day in bed with a really bad cold and a garbage bag full of plain, white, unscented tissues. Why? Because even in my sickness I needed to go out to the little bazar's and supermarkets to find tissues because my nose was raw with toilet paper use! But, the two shops I tried before rushing home to bed again had only one choice, and it wasn't pretty!

So the moral of the story is, control your addiction for pretty, scented tissues because one day when you truly need them, you will have squandered them and will have to settle for normality.

on another note - what happened to my perfect immune system!! Spain always does this to me!

Sending my Ballot!!!

2008-10-28T16:12:00.004+01:00

I just thought I would let you in on a secret. I have a crush on the postman. I just went in to mail my absentee ballot which was very exciting and there he was again, the post man who gave my flatmate his number.

This is funny because I read a book a couple years ago about getting out there and meeting people - not waiting for the Fedex man to show up at your door and fall madly in love.

We don't have Fedex show up at our door, we have to walk the thirty minutes to the post office ourselves. So going to the post office is a big part of our day that we have to plan out, once inside you have to take a number based on what you need to do, which 10% of the time push the wrong button and have to take a different number, elongating my dreaded stay in the post office.

Well, recently, there's been a postman who has only made me dread the trip for one reason, I lose every ability to speak spanish within me and try to leave as soon as I can. And regardless of the number I get, I end up going to his window. And there he is with his scruffy hair and blue eyes, and I turn on my natural smooth charm - don't speak a word of coherency and rush out! Even when he's trying to personalize the conversation by asking about the envelope, where it's going, if it's important, and if I want to express it. I know very tempting conversation starters, but still I'm left without words.

The problem is Castellón is a small town and whenever I'm out with friends, he's out as well in the same fantastic tapas and beer ally in the city center, or the club of great music where nobody dances, but makes little awkward eye contact.

Sadly though my new flatmate, also from the states, just sent in her ballot as well, at the post office, but for her, and her inability to speak any word beyond 'hola' in spanish led her to speak to the man in English, which apparently was what he was looking for and her run to the post office ended with a ballot mailed and an exchange of phone numbers for 'tandem language exchanges'. Which if you've lived in Spain for any length of time you know that language exchanges are code for international hook-ups.

So much for the postman, Angel :) apparently, showing up at the FedEx door isn't enough either.

Zeitgeist

2008-10-22T17:12:00.002+02:00

I just watched American Zeitgeist and subsequently Zeitgeist: Addendum. I suggest the latter, especially, to anyone with an open yet highly critical mind - take it with a grain of salt. It is like The Matrix and Minority Report - only actually based on reality. Things in America's history that are creating a frightening present and an unbelievable future. Just the fact that I've associated it to two movies - that I've seen - proves that I'm a mindless product of the entertainment society, of which is highly criticized for good reason in this documentary. Yet, I still enjoy being entertained by mindless non-reality - but for that reason, that it's a mindless alternative to the uncontrollable reality.

The documentaries reveal the absurdness of the powerful and the destructive power of modernity and the structure of institutions. Based on the creation of the Federal Reserve and the International Monetary Fund, our society is in ruins.

Then the story proceeds to debunk the validity of all structures from government to religion. And this is when I begin to have a problem. They have this idea that technology is the answer to all our problems with community living as the base of society. In theory, that's what I'm arguing in my thesis as well, that community based living is key to transforming society to being more peaceful and resource efficient. And I also agree that religious institutions are ruining community life in the systematic hands of the power hungry and mindless following. Small religious-based communities have every potential to meet the needs of society in every way, including those areas that we hate to speak about - the needs of the spirit.

This is actually the topic I'm going to go into in my thesis, if everything goes well. If you watch either of these movies and have ideas, let me know. I think communities have mass potential as small pockets of yeast in bread dough. Removing the spirit aspect of peace and society won't solve all the problems as I think the creators of these documentaries believe. They forget that every culture in history has sought a solace to their spirit needs. What makes them think "perfect" technology will meet those uncountable needs?

a little ditty

2008-10-16T11:00:00.004+02:00

The further I take myself away from my past, the more I am drawn to face it through different lenses. I used to spend all my free time on aspects of photography. I had all lens sizes that my teenage income could acquire and I loved being able to see the differences small changes could have on the outcome. I miss those days exploring the beauty surrounding me or hunting for it if it wasn't obvious before me. I would plan hiking trips around the ability to take good photos.

Then, I had the brilliant idea to pack both of my good cameras in a suitcase on my way to the Dominican Republic. Needless to say, that resulted in never receiving my luggage. Something I've learned is that when events such as these happen to me, instead of getting angry about it I decide that it's not a big enough thing to dwell on and take it as a challenge to learn from and maybe pursue new avenues.

So, I decided I couldn't afford a new camera and that would just be the end of my photography days.

Did I mention I miss those days?

Part of the reason I was able to convince myself that part of my life was over, was that I had gotten to the point in photography that I wasn't learning anything new or challenging myself and if I wanted to get any better, I would have to start seriously making an effort to learn and grow in this hobby. But this seemed like a hobby with too high an expense to maintain and I wasn't that willing to push myself to get better. And really, where was it going to take me? Instead I would pursue career... but look where that's taken me. I'm still trying to pinpoint a specialty in career, without success.

The reason I write this is because I have too often decided to quite something once I've reached my capacity to get better without more invested effort to get better. This was true of basketball, volleyball, drama, singing, and studies.

I'm meditating on this subject again because I'm thinking about my thesis topic for my MA at the moment. Whichever topic I choose, I know that I'll have to dig deeper than I really want to go on any subject. Why? Because I would prefer to have a delicate understanding of almost everything instead of a deep knowledge of something specific. This is a challenge to myself to go deeper, think critically, and pursue my passions. I'm even thinking strongly of going back to my love of photography... and it's that thought that makes me smile again!

I'm an addict

2008-10-01T19:24:00.003+02:00

I don't have allergies. I don't have a cold. I don't have any plausible reason to continue go through a pack a day, but I do. That's right I've discovered the perfect pink, rose perfumed, tissues - and I love them! I bought them on accident one day when I was just in need of a couple of tissues, but had to buy a larger supply and yes, I was attracted to the color. I thought they were pretty.

Then I used them and was horrified by an overwhelming smell of 'grandma' in the elevator. A few seconds later I realized that the abuela before me hadn't over-spritzed her perfume, but my tissue was infused with aromas.

It was repulsive at first, but as I am finishing my last travel pack of little pink perfumed tissues, I'm about to go in search for some more just like it. Without any true need for them, I'm more prone to buy them now than ever. I kind of think that's what addictions are all about. They almost never have to do with things that are actually necessary to livelihood, but they feel good just the same.

This just in....

2008-09-27T12:34:00.005+02:00

To further my point on the economic situation for those of us abroad, I discover just a day later that the bank I rely on has fallen a victim of the crisis.

I spoke with my dad, a wonderful long time banker, after I talked with employees from my bank to reassure that my accounts were secure and finish some banking business that needed to get done. He said that many customers of Wamu had closed their accounts causing a deposit frenzy that affected the entire financial institution. Now, this can't account for the entire downturn, so we know Wamu had also made some investments that must have been related to the mortgage crisis. Either way, my bank, which prided itself on being the people's bank, has changed hands to the "evil money loving bankers" as Wamu liked to refer to them.

My dad has also seen several elderly folks coming into the banks wanting to cash out in fear of another Great Depression. That is the mistake of the people that happened then too. Cashing out will open up another wave of crisis.

I think this turn of events that resembles so much of the Great Depression is another indication that perhaps this country that tries to liberate other poorer economies with our approach of capitalist market economies is another indication that this is not the answer. For answers to healthy economic growth let's turn to other countries that didn't use the US approach as an outline like Japan, Norway, S. Korea... and dare I say... Cuba!

Economic Emptying

2008-09-24T22:41:00.005+02:00

So, I haven't written in a while...if you're my close friends like Leah and Beth you know that that means I'm not so happy with my circumstance/situation/life at the moment. It takes some time to get over that feeling, so these pauses in my blogging communication are just as much a reflection of my personal experiences as my constant blogging blabber.

So, my latest experience was returning to Spain after almost a three months absence to this little city where evidence of a global economic down-spin is everywhere. I've been noticing it on almost every street with small businesses and restaurants that I walk on. About every 5 or 6 doors is another closed or "soon to be closing" sign posted all over the windows. What's worse, is every time I see it I remember thinking a few months ago that with the US housing market drop and global food crisis, we would probably start feeling it in Spain soon too. I guess I'm a pretty good economist because that's exactly what happened and it's sad to see it's the small businesses that suffer while I've already seen one closed shop replaced by a national company called Natura - which supposedly sells world market products in an effort to support the local economies they purchase from - like free trade, however, I'm very skeptical of this company, but it has invaded this little town and the empty spaces created by the poor economic situation.

I'm personally feeling it as I search for more teaching jobs that seemed to be in abundance last semester and are now scarce and dwindling because many people who, although have a second apartment in a beach town just 30 minutes from here, aren't willing to spend extra money on English lessons.

In the Army Now...

2008-08-06T17:54:00.009+02:00

I completed a week of training with the Austrian Army...and I'm not ashamed to say it was a really good experience! So many things happened, but, as I responded to an old friend who asked me about it because he's curious as he's serving in the US Army -in Iraq, it was surprisingly fun, helpful, and inspiring.

Here are some of the highlights that I told my friend...

It was a week of simulation training with the Austrian army of UN Peacekeeping missions. It's part of a Peace Studies MA program I'm in... which is probably a little contradictory to what you are up to ;) We had some minefield (avoidance) training and self-defense and emergency first-aid training. Our mission simulation was to retrieve information about the "conflict situation" in the demilitarized zone (DMZ) to see if it is safe to begin sending peacemaking and peacebuilding teams. At one point my car was ambushed and had our equipment stolen. We stayed in an army bunker and had an emergency evacuation while a shooting battle was taking place nearby. After escaping down a hill with all our heavy equipment (helmet, bullet-proof vest, etc.) our next mission was to return to our home bases, but this resulted in being taken hostage along the way, moved into an old mining cave and then being rescued by UN rescue workers. So, that's mostly what that was about.

His response was not so surprising. As a soldier serving in Iraq I think the ability to continue the mission in which he's been deployed is only through the propaganda that continues a belief that what is being done is serving a greater good. Unfortunately, in my opinion, that so-called greater good is actually to feed the elitist capitalistic hunger for control and domination. This sounds very harsh, and I don't want to to be, but I have to wonder that with the history of wars and battles that appear so similar, why we ever think the battle is something different. People who are oppressed are often labelled as terrorists. This definition gives a sense of chaos and disorder. It's not true, these insurgencies are well organized. The structure of the well-trained armies is similarly organized and purpose driven - because this organization is backed by a state doesn't make it any less terroristic. We are all terrors in war.

Okay - I'm now starting to go into something that I didn't intend to. I'm obviously also very affected by the courses I'm in now that deal with history of oppressed people and terrorism today.

So all of that to say I enjoyed the army training - but for different reasons than I think usually expected... the training was less "army" than expected and more realistic look into what armies contribute to so-called peace operations.

Offline for Two Weeks!!!

2008-07-13T16:22:00.007+02:00

Has no time for blogging whilst in Austrian Army peace training, Native Spirit Camp and disconnection from internet for the next two weeks at least...

This program keeps us always expecting something unexpected, flexibility and the ability to open our minds to new things. Challenge is the keyword.

I have been stretched much already and this is only the lecture phase, so there is much more to endure... this weekend we completed Red Cross training and monday begins Army training. Army -a very contradictory field, yet very much related, to peace studies. Immediately following the Army we'll enter into a Native Spirit Camp where adventure continues and where, as I've heard, the most connecting and stretching things happen. My last two weeks here will be filled with introductions by experts in very unconventional fields of peace studies like the Theatre of the Oppressed and the martial art Aikido.

All of these will form a very abnormal and broad understanding of the many facets of peace. Or as our director would say, the many peaces.

Today has been a lower day of my experience, but these are personal and honest reflections toward the way I'm getting involved in this program and the way that I feel I'm being perceived. So, with several more weeks ahead and only 9 days behind me... I'm sure I will have many highs and lows.

This is my signing off note as I mentioned the connection is not very reliable and for the two weeks following, I won't have the ability to connect at all!

New to Austria

2008-06-30T18:50:00.006+02:00

Beauuuuuuutiful!!!

Shuttle vans are the way to travel. The same price as the train and they deliver straight to the door!

Along the way, the driver stopped to fill up the tank and as I watched him clean his windshield I was reminded of on of my biggest pet-peeves. No soap or cleanser at gas stations in the water with the sole purpose is to clean the windshields. How can it truly clean the bug guts without proper cleaning ingredients?

Never having been big into driving myself, that is one thing I'm happy not to be bothered with anymore.

But, if ever there is a time to drive here would be the place. The roads are open for any speed limit. And surprisingly, they are highly safe. I can imagine that you feel safe to go as fast as you want. Well, the highway was no L.A. but there's also no stress in fighting for the space to move faster, because the speed of traffic is happily moving along.

With three speeding tickets to my past, I like this way of life much better!

YAY Spain!

2008-06-29T18:43:00.000+02:00

Just to update my last blog... ¡¡¡VIVA ESPAÑA!!!

Spain beat Germany 1 - 0.

And because I flew from Spain to Munich (and then a shuttle to here Innsbruck, Austria). I was on soil of both teams. But even though I have a strong like toward Germany.... Spain definitely took my support so it was exciting to see them succeed!

Spain Victory!

The Sounds of Victory

2008-06-27T10:16:00.005+02:00

As I was alone at home working on a term paper last night, it was exciting to hear "GOOOOAAALLLL!" across the city, followed by excessive honking, loud music, cheering, and (it wouldn't be Spain without it) endless fireworks.

I'm not and never have been a big football/soccer fan, but there's something very exciting in seeing the enthusiasm and energy of people all over Spain as they witness their team in a victory that will lead them to the playoffs for the first time in the Eurocup history (according to what a fan in a bar told us). I get very excited about it too!

Spain beat Russia 3-0 which sends them to the playoffs against Germany on Sunday. I'm told this will be a very exciting match. It better be, because the only two I've seen in this tournament have solidified my perception of a boring sport interaction - both times having no goal scores until the very end, then overtime, then penalty shots to declare the outcome. All this to add up to a long time of watching little action for a few short minutes of intensity. Not my idea of a fun sport, but I'm learning to enjoy it a little more the longer I'm in Europe...who knows, maybe I'll eventually check out a game sometime.

On Silence

2008-06-26T18:32:00.004+02:00

I'm not a very eloquent person. I am almost always short and to the point. Especially when talking on the phone.

My family has this ability to "talk" to each other extensively yet intermixed with periods of contented silence. As soon as they get to this point in conversations with me, I conclude the conversation with "welp I better go..." and move to hang up (which, of course, is then followed by 3-5 different ways of saying goodbye). What is the need to remain on the phone if there's nothing more to be said? Right?

I was just talking with my friend Tory who is now living in South Korea but spent some time in Uganda and she illuminated a cultural aspect from her experience there about African friendships. A mark of good friendship is the ability to just be with each other.

That involves silence. While I've always thought how nice it is when old couples get to the point when they are completely comfortable being silent. Of course I think I'm completely comfortable in silence and I'm not a huge motormouth, but I've always felt this need to cover silence with filler words or just leave the situation entirely (I feel more comfortable being in silence alone than with company). Yet in some cultures silence can speak more than words.

All this to say sometimes my shortness and often "bruntness" when I speak is something I've often wanted to change. I sometimes say things I regret later. All this to fill silence? There's definitely something to learn there - hopefully I will.

Swimming in the Sea - remains a mystery

2008-06-24T22:00:00.003+02:00

What was the point... we're still not so sure.

But hundreds of young people from all over Castellón piled into busses and cars and created traffic havoc in the streets just so they could find a small space on the beach to begin their bonfire. Many of us from the masters program and acquaintances gathered among them.

It's called San Juan (or Saint John). And everyone gathers around their fires with friends, a band plays in the distance and a parade passes on a nearby street until midnight comes around. All of the sudden an enormous wood pile is set aflame in the middle of the beach and everyone runs toward the sea. The tradition goes that everyone is to jump over or ride into the waves 7 times. Why? Again, I'm just not sure. If anyone out there knows the story, I'd love to hear.

Well I enjoyed it so much. Swimming in the sea at night has a different feel completely. If I were alone, it may have been scary, but together with friends it was a fantastic experience. Some among our group decided it didn't count unless they were in the nude... but I didn't go swimming with them :)

Edna is someone I've gotten to know only recently and she may not be back next fall. I will be very sad to miss her friendship. She's a great girl from Colombia with a gigantic heart for handicapped and people from everywhere. Our communication is difficult, but that makes it fun. She's a devout catholic with a fascination for the devout monastic life (as I do. hehe). We were talking about the meaning of this festival and we settled on the tradition stemming from San Juan Baptista. Which makes sense because it was John the Baptist who baptized Jesus in water.

So, that leaves the meaning behind doing it at midnight and jumping 7 times. Seven is a number referred to often in the bible so I can maybe conjecture that it's because the creation took seven days...or the seven times march around Jericho. But none of these seem to fit this occasion.

It will remain a mystery. But it also remains as another reminder that Spain has a history of thick, deep traditions rooted in a very superficial religion. I don't mean that universally, but historically, the religious zealousy practiced here was never more than just that - religion - a set of practices, traditions and systems for believing in god - and that only lead to violence and intolerance for 'others'. The God that I know cared so little for the practices and systems that were supposed to worship him. When he walked on earth, Jesus cared only for the person, on a person to person basis. If he had any religious practices, there were of bringing peace and healing. And as his apostle says, "to look after orphans and widows in their distress" is religion he accepts as pure and faultless.

(As a side-note, I think traditions are not bad, but in fact quite useful and, in this case, fun. It's when religion becomes only tradition and systematized sets of belief instead a personal transformative relationship that it loses it's usefulness. It's a complicated topic - how did I get into it? :)

Happy Mother's Day

2008-05-11T20:03:00.003+02:00

I made a photo book using my fabulous mac for my mom on Mother's Day. It has all photos from her visit to Spain and our fun time together. Every once in a while a little poetry inspiration comes to me and while I was working on it, this is what I had to say:

It's hard to keep up with all that we do

so here's a short poem to say I love you.

Distance reminds us how far we must go

to show that there's room for this love to grow.

I'm glad you could share in this place I call home

for it's evident thus far that I'm destined to roam.

The future's uncertain and life is too short

so every chance to be near you, rest assured I'd exhort.

Now as I attempt to promote world peace

may your mother's day this year overflow with feliz.

Te quiero mucho

(If you're reading this and know that my one Spanish word doesn't grammatically fit - try to disregard that like I do)