I am not sure where to even begin. I need to be writing daily, more than once daily, but with Dany here it is a bit hard to fit it in.
Being back is a huge transition, a bit bigger than I thought actually.
I want to embrace everything and everyone, but am then reminded that people are pre-occupied with other things here...their hearts aren't quite as open as mine at this moment. And I get disappointed...but I wanted a big hug and a genuine hello, I think to myself, and got just the opposite....where is everyone? why can't you be present with me?
as much as i have been challenged for the last seven months, i have also been greatly privileged. I have lived around people who genuinely care, genuinely take time, and genuinely hug. have eaten food, real food from this earth, nothing processed, nothing that comes in a box. nothing shipped in from other countries. been surrounded by a city that is a live...ah, i feel like i have so much to say, but need to give myself time to say it all. i need more time with myself, to write, to think, to reflect. i feel like i am on super drive right now. como fast forward, like everything is happening, but fast, and its hard for my mind to calm down.
i want to share my experience without assumptions. i want to sit down, for someone to listen, to really want to know, and to not judge. i need to release, but have found no one to release to yet. although i know it will come, i am impatient. trying to find patience for myself.
being back here reminds me of the little things. why can i not find masa, or fresh squeezed juice? why do three pounds of tomatoes cost ten dollars? why is each peach one dollar? no wonder people who earn little in this country are sick. it disgusts me. i am tired now, needing to sleep, but also needing to release and to write. again, much more to come, much more, and breathing, breathing through it all.
but wait, before i go....some people here just have no freaking clue. live their lives as if there is nothing worse than that is going on in their own. conversations are typically pretty senseless. we are so stuck in this world. it is time to begin to share others. before i begin to rant i will go. until next time, soon. peace.
7/27/10
California is not Mexico
At all. Transitioning, big time...too tired to write, but more to come. Much more. Good night.
7/25/10
My family stresses me out.
The title says it all. Blah. Leave me alone. Sometimes you have to remember that I was 18 FOUR years ago. I know its hard, but please try. Thanks.
7/24/10
Coming Home.
I am home. Home to my home in California. After 6 months and two weeks in Mexico. I feel....so much. Dany is with me, which definitely helps. I have a piece of my Mexico with me. She scared me in the airport. It took her almost an hour to come out of Customs. I thought I was going to have a panic attack. They couldn't take her back from me!!!
As I had just broken into tears out of worry, there she was, crossing the line, into the United States. She made it. There is something about that girl...I have never had a friend like her. She is locked deeply into my heart, and I don't think that compartment can ever be unlocked. Not sure what it is....but it is there....a true friend, and it means the world to me.
Yesterday I went to the Beach, Bolinas actually. I don't know what it is about that place, but it always calls to me. I have never been to Bolinas on a more beautiful day. It was absolutely gorgeous. The sun shining, the water perfect, and the sand warm. We took a picnic, buried ourselves in the sand, ran with the water, found seashells, and made sand angels. It felt so good, and so freeing to be there.
Came home and tried to make quesadillas with Da, which just don't come out the same here. Food is sooooooo much fresher in Mexico it is not even funny. It is going to take awhile to adjust to it all here. Even the markets, no one is there to help me or stop to talk with me because they have time.
It all came crashing down last night, my feelings, I mean. I suddlenly realized I was home, that I had left Mexico. A huge transitioning point, and change. I began to cry, but not out of sadness or anger, just feelings, I began to feel for the world, for the people I met in Mexico, for everything that was given to me and everything I had given. I have gone through a lot in these last seven months. A lot of pain, anger, frustration, work. A lot of love, compassion, children, and friendships. And I feel it all right now. Throughout my body, my chest, the water that runs from my eyes. It feels good though, I feel strong, and ready to move forward, but I feel like I want to continue to tell my story of Mexico, the people that I met, the lessons that I learned, all that I saw, felt, and heard. I feel like I want to give justice to my experience, especially the people that came across my path. Absolutely incredible people, families, parents, children, and grandparents. I feel like I can write a book simply explaining the people. Wonderful people, people whose lives are filled with pain, violence, anger, and joy. Love, and compassion. So I have decided to continue to write, to continue to express myself as a therapy, but more importantly to share with others that in which touched me so, inspires me, and impassions me to keep going. There is a huge light at the end of my tunnel.
More to come. Much more. I am excited.
As I had just broken into tears out of worry, there she was, crossing the line, into the United States. She made it. There is something about that girl...I have never had a friend like her. She is locked deeply into my heart, and I don't think that compartment can ever be unlocked. Not sure what it is....but it is there....a true friend, and it means the world to me.
Yesterday I went to the Beach, Bolinas actually. I don't know what it is about that place, but it always calls to me. I have never been to Bolinas on a more beautiful day. It was absolutely gorgeous. The sun shining, the water perfect, and the sand warm. We took a picnic, buried ourselves in the sand, ran with the water, found seashells, and made sand angels. It felt so good, and so freeing to be there.
Came home and tried to make quesadillas with Da, which just don't come out the same here. Food is sooooooo much fresher in Mexico it is not even funny. It is going to take awhile to adjust to it all here. Even the markets, no one is there to help me or stop to talk with me because they have time.
It all came crashing down last night, my feelings, I mean. I suddlenly realized I was home, that I had left Mexico. A huge transitioning point, and change. I began to cry, but not out of sadness or anger, just feelings, I began to feel for the world, for the people I met in Mexico, for everything that was given to me and everything I had given. I have gone through a lot in these last seven months. A lot of pain, anger, frustration, work. A lot of love, compassion, children, and friendships. And I feel it all right now. Throughout my body, my chest, the water that runs from my eyes. It feels good though, I feel strong, and ready to move forward, but I feel like I want to continue to tell my story of Mexico, the people that I met, the lessons that I learned, all that I saw, felt, and heard. I feel like I want to give justice to my experience, especially the people that came across my path. Absolutely incredible people, families, parents, children, and grandparents. I feel like I can write a book simply explaining the people. Wonderful people, people whose lives are filled with pain, violence, anger, and joy. Love, and compassion. So I have decided to continue to write, to continue to express myself as a therapy, but more importantly to share with others that in which touched me so, inspires me, and impassions me to keep going. There is a huge light at the end of my tunnel.
More to come. Much more. I am excited.
7/12/10
Home Again.
I never thought I would feel so free coming back to the place I started here in Mexico. I have just spent about three weeks with a new family, which was a wonderful break, rest, and experience, but as soon as my bags were packed and I was in the car on my way to Estela's again I felt like taking off my clothes and dancing my heart out in the street. I got to my room, swept the floor, put copal in the saumador, and walah! here i am again, and it really does feel like home. its crazy what six months can do to you. made my bed, took a shower, unpacked, etc. feeling good. waves of excitement to go home. SO much to catch you up on but tonight is not the night. SO much to do this week. trying to recover from being sick. blah. not used to my body not wanting to go, move, or function. it will be good to have it back again. alright, until pronto. jj
7/5/10
And It All Came Crashing Down
The image of Mother Earth with a huge dagger stuck through her middle and ripping her open races through my mind.
I have just had one of the most emotionally intense 24 hours I can remember.
After my work at the orphanage, I bought 24 pink and white colored roses for Ana and hopped onto the bus to Cuentepec. I was tired, a bit dillusional. In and out of sleep. It began to rain. I covered myself with my raincoat. It began to pour. It was hard for the bus driver to see in front of him. We made our way in the overcrowed bus, filled with exhausted workers, slowly, very slowly. Through the tear drops of water pounding overhead and through the newly green and chocolate colored earth, ready to be planted and produce for the season. Into the clear air, surrounded by exhausted workers. Making the journey to be able to put food into their children’s mouth. To feed their families and offer them shelter.
The bus finally creeped its way to Cuentepec. It was downpouring. I descened the bus, and although had a hood over my head, was dripping wet within 30 seconds. I made my way down the cobbled stoned road to Dany’s house. The road was already flooding, and I felt like I was walking through a running creek. People watching from their windows and front doors. Watching me trudge towards Dany’s house, dripping wet, carrying my weight and sadness and anger and resentment and loneliness along with me. I knocked on the door. It was immediately opened and I was hugged deeply by one of Dany’s sisters. I was dripping wet. Get inside, change your clothes! I was ordered immediately. I was hustled into Dany’s room, and thrown three different pairs of pants to try on to change into. None of them fit, so Dany decided to rip open a pair of her own that she had taken in and re-sew them for me. Just like that, as if it were nothing, and before I knew it, I had a dry pair of pants to put on my soaking body. Through this whole process, I was standing in my underwear, and Dany’s cousins, nieces, nephews, sisters, mom, and dad were coming in and out of the bedroom, trying to escape from the falling goblets of rain. I was then hurried into the kitchen. Was sat down and given a warm piece of chicken soaked in the deepest red salsa I have ever seen, and wrapped in potatoes, epazote, and nopales. There were two fires set up on the kitchen floor as stoves. One held a huge comal and the other a giant clay pot for the mole. The kitchen was a mess, strewn with food, pots, plastic plates, and food already eaten. I ate in silence, with a feeling that tears were going to begin to flood to my eyes. Dany noticed it first, of course. She gave me a large hug and we shared tears together. But before we could let any more go, it was time to cut the cake. I was encouraged to stand by Ana. I was touched. The tears began to flow again. They were unstoppable. Crying, laughing, trying to keep calm and collected in the rush of all of the other guests. I sat down next to Lourdes. She looked at me deep into the eyes, and thanked me for who I was as a person. That her family has never connected with an American, and that I am loved by all of them. If only there were more people in the world like you, she tells me, the world would be a better place. She sees through. I couldn’t let go of her. She is a bigger woman, and it felt comforting to hold on. I have never had someone thank me so sincerely for who I am as a person.
What happened next is a bit of a blur. Ana began to push her boyfriend around. She didn’t want him to go. He left her for the evening, and she pushed away her feelings by opening a bottle of tequila. I drank very little, as I did not want my feelings and emotions to be erased, covered up, or carried away by the alcohol. The rest of the girls did otherwise, however. Down went the tequila, and Ana felt it first. Although it was pouring rain outside, we went across the street to the neighbor’s house, who had a live band. We started the party, four of us girls, began to dance in the pouring rain and mud soaked ground. It was a release, it felt wonderful, the mud on my feet and the rain on my face. But then dynamics began to change. I couldn’t really tell who wanted what, but before we knew it Ana got sick. We took her back to her room and she began to froth at the mouth and vomit. Dany took her under her care and arms. The girls were hiding it from their mom. Dany encouraged us to keep dancing, so that her parents would go with us and not know about Ana’s condition. So outside into the rain we went again, dancing to distract and hide reality, more than anything. I couldn’t’ enjoy thinking of Dany and Ana back in the house. And there was a boy waiting outside for Dany. I couldn’t dance knowing about Dany and Ana. I headed back into the house. I don’t know how we all ended up in the bathroom, but all of the sudden, Dany, Angelica, and I were in the bathroom, and I began to bawl. I have never had anyone hold onto me so tight. Dany held me in her arms and I became uncontrollable. Bawling, screaming, whining. She was encouraging it the whole time. Ya, sacalo. Puedes llorar aqui. Gritalo. Gritalo. Sacalo. Suddenly Angelica was bawling at our side as well. We were all bawling and holding eachother so that we wouldn’t fall onto the floor. Bawling in a small square room made of cement, used for showering. Dany’s mom and boyfriend came over, Dany left with him, and Angelica began to talk nonsense to me. I wanted to sleep, she wanted to dance. Was telling me that if we didn’t go and dance, her parents would be worried that we weren’t okay, and how it is important that we go and have fun. I left to dance with her in the rain again, but couldn’t enjoy my time like before. I felt trapped. Not sure what to do. Followed and watched by Dany’s parents, who wanted to make sure I was okay. We continued dancing in the rain and the mud throughout the night.
I was mind tripping about theories we have been reading about, about the two epistemologies, and how I was seeing all of the intersectionalities, but my discomfort within the intersections. I was surrounded by small Nahuatl speaking mothers and grandmothers, with their traditional clothing and faces that tell more than one history, from beginning to end. We were all dancing to Norteno, Bando, Rancho music, pink streamers over our heads and a cake the size of a table to serve us all. Many of the elders were drunk. Woman were being pushed around, men crying, faces of sadness and burden surrounded me. Pain, sorrow. I am not ready to write about this yet. But slowly and surely, their lives and beliefs are being taken from them, and I have a great fear, that pains me to no end, that in another 15 years, the originality of Cuentepec will disappear before our eyes. We are loosing our old customs and traditions, and losing them quickly. It makes me sick to my body to think about it.
I couldn’t’ be there anymore, I needed to go to bed. I motioned to Angelica but she pulled me back. She wouldn’t let me go. I couldn’t’ understand it. I started screaming at her and pushing her away from me. I ran. I arrived at the house and ran to my room. Angelica began to have a tantrum. A tantrum so fierce that she fainted. She had been screaming and arguing with herself about her fear that her mom was going to be unhappy with her because she had broken up with her boyfriend. I watched from the window. I couldn’t’ understand as they were talking in Nahuatl, but here was Dany, her boyfriend, her mom, dad, Monica, and Erica, all trying to calm and hold stable Angelica. I don’t know who or why someone was finally able to calm it all down. Angelica went to bed. I tried to sleep. Dany came in the room, shivering. I fell into a light sleep, only waking up later to hear Dany’s boyfriend crying. I looked out the window, Dany was consoling him. His crying didn’t stop until I fell asleep again. Dany came into the room at 5:30 to shower and leave. The boyfriend was still there. He wanted to come in, he wanted a hug, a kiss. Dany’s running around. The mom comes in, the boyfriend hides from the dad. Dany leaves with him. I fall asleep until 9am.
I wake up to Danys dad still drunk and crying to himself in his kitchen, mumbling about how he couldn’t go to work. His wife and mother-in-law ignored him, his daughters told him to go to bed. The women began to clean the kitchen. I showered. I waited for a taxi or bus for almost an hour and cried. Watch it all around me. Analyze, sadness, reality, beauty, grief, heavy lives, drama. I saw and felt it all. I don’t know if I have ever felt or experienced so much pain, tears, screams, and grief in one night.
I arrived in Xochicalgo and began to cry. Hugged myself. Realized how lonely I feel, almost abandoned. I let the mountain heal me. I lied on the rock, sang to the wind, and breathed in beauty, forgiveness, strenth, and faith. Feeling better yet drained and filled with emotion. I have more to release. It goes back for years. It hurts but is good, and important for me.
I have just had one of the most emotionally intense 24 hours I can remember.
After my work at the orphanage, I bought 24 pink and white colored roses for Ana and hopped onto the bus to Cuentepec. I was tired, a bit dillusional. In and out of sleep. It began to rain. I covered myself with my raincoat. It began to pour. It was hard for the bus driver to see in front of him. We made our way in the overcrowed bus, filled with exhausted workers, slowly, very slowly. Through the tear drops of water pounding overhead and through the newly green and chocolate colored earth, ready to be planted and produce for the season. Into the clear air, surrounded by exhausted workers. Making the journey to be able to put food into their children’s mouth. To feed their families and offer them shelter.
The bus finally creeped its way to Cuentepec. It was downpouring. I descened the bus, and although had a hood over my head, was dripping wet within 30 seconds. I made my way down the cobbled stoned road to Dany’s house. The road was already flooding, and I felt like I was walking through a running creek. People watching from their windows and front doors. Watching me trudge towards Dany’s house, dripping wet, carrying my weight and sadness and anger and resentment and loneliness along with me. I knocked on the door. It was immediately opened and I was hugged deeply by one of Dany’s sisters. I was dripping wet. Get inside, change your clothes! I was ordered immediately. I was hustled into Dany’s room, and thrown three different pairs of pants to try on to change into. None of them fit, so Dany decided to rip open a pair of her own that she had taken in and re-sew them for me. Just like that, as if it were nothing, and before I knew it, I had a dry pair of pants to put on my soaking body. Through this whole process, I was standing in my underwear, and Dany’s cousins, nieces, nephews, sisters, mom, and dad were coming in and out of the bedroom, trying to escape from the falling goblets of rain. I was then hurried into the kitchen. Was sat down and given a warm piece of chicken soaked in the deepest red salsa I have ever seen, and wrapped in potatoes, epazote, and nopales. There were two fires set up on the kitchen floor as stoves. One held a huge comal and the other a giant clay pot for the mole. The kitchen was a mess, strewn with food, pots, plastic plates, and food already eaten. I ate in silence, with a feeling that tears were going to begin to flood to my eyes. Dany noticed it first, of course. She gave me a large hug and we shared tears together. But before we could let any more go, it was time to cut the cake. I was encouraged to stand by Ana. I was touched. The tears began to flow again. They were unstoppable. Crying, laughing, trying to keep calm and collected in the rush of all of the other guests. I sat down next to Lourdes. She looked at me deep into the eyes, and thanked me for who I was as a person. That her family has never connected with an American, and that I am loved by all of them. If only there were more people in the world like you, she tells me, the world would be a better place. She sees through. I couldn’t let go of her. She is a bigger woman, and it felt comforting to hold on. I have never had someone thank me so sincerely for who I am as a person.
What happened next is a bit of a blur. Ana began to push her boyfriend around. She didn’t want him to go. He left her for the evening, and she pushed away her feelings by opening a bottle of tequila. I drank very little, as I did not want my feelings and emotions to be erased, covered up, or carried away by the alcohol. The rest of the girls did otherwise, however. Down went the tequila, and Ana felt it first. Although it was pouring rain outside, we went across the street to the neighbor’s house, who had a live band. We started the party, four of us girls, began to dance in the pouring rain and mud soaked ground. It was a release, it felt wonderful, the mud on my feet and the rain on my face. But then dynamics began to change. I couldn’t really tell who wanted what, but before we knew it Ana got sick. We took her back to her room and she began to froth at the mouth and vomit. Dany took her under her care and arms. The girls were hiding it from their mom. Dany encouraged us to keep dancing, so that her parents would go with us and not know about Ana’s condition. So outside into the rain we went again, dancing to distract and hide reality, more than anything. I couldn’t’ enjoy thinking of Dany and Ana back in the house. And there was a boy waiting outside for Dany. I couldn’t dance knowing about Dany and Ana. I headed back into the house. I don’t know how we all ended up in the bathroom, but all of the sudden, Dany, Angelica, and I were in the bathroom, and I began to bawl. I have never had anyone hold onto me so tight. Dany held me in her arms and I became uncontrollable. Bawling, screaming, whining. She was encouraging it the whole time. Ya, sacalo. Puedes llorar aqui. Gritalo. Gritalo. Sacalo. Suddenly Angelica was bawling at our side as well. We were all bawling and holding eachother so that we wouldn’t fall onto the floor. Bawling in a small square room made of cement, used for showering. Dany’s mom and boyfriend came over, Dany left with him, and Angelica began to talk nonsense to me. I wanted to sleep, she wanted to dance. Was telling me that if we didn’t go and dance, her parents would be worried that we weren’t okay, and how it is important that we go and have fun. I left to dance with her in the rain again, but couldn’t enjoy my time like before. I felt trapped. Not sure what to do. Followed and watched by Dany’s parents, who wanted to make sure I was okay. We continued dancing in the rain and the mud throughout the night.
I was mind tripping about theories we have been reading about, about the two epistemologies, and how I was seeing all of the intersectionalities, but my discomfort within the intersections. I was surrounded by small Nahuatl speaking mothers and grandmothers, with their traditional clothing and faces that tell more than one history, from beginning to end. We were all dancing to Norteno, Bando, Rancho music, pink streamers over our heads and a cake the size of a table to serve us all. Many of the elders were drunk. Woman were being pushed around, men crying, faces of sadness and burden surrounded me. Pain, sorrow. I am not ready to write about this yet. But slowly and surely, their lives and beliefs are being taken from them, and I have a great fear, that pains me to no end, that in another 15 years, the originality of Cuentepec will disappear before our eyes. We are loosing our old customs and traditions, and losing them quickly. It makes me sick to my body to think about it.
I couldn’t’ be there anymore, I needed to go to bed. I motioned to Angelica but she pulled me back. She wouldn’t let me go. I couldn’t’ understand it. I started screaming at her and pushing her away from me. I ran. I arrived at the house and ran to my room. Angelica began to have a tantrum. A tantrum so fierce that she fainted. She had been screaming and arguing with herself about her fear that her mom was going to be unhappy with her because she had broken up with her boyfriend. I watched from the window. I couldn’t’ understand as they were talking in Nahuatl, but here was Dany, her boyfriend, her mom, dad, Monica, and Erica, all trying to calm and hold stable Angelica. I don’t know who or why someone was finally able to calm it all down. Angelica went to bed. I tried to sleep. Dany came in the room, shivering. I fell into a light sleep, only waking up later to hear Dany’s boyfriend crying. I looked out the window, Dany was consoling him. His crying didn’t stop until I fell asleep again. Dany came into the room at 5:30 to shower and leave. The boyfriend was still there. He wanted to come in, he wanted a hug, a kiss. Dany’s running around. The mom comes in, the boyfriend hides from the dad. Dany leaves with him. I fall asleep until 9am.
I wake up to Danys dad still drunk and crying to himself in his kitchen, mumbling about how he couldn’t go to work. His wife and mother-in-law ignored him, his daughters told him to go to bed. The women began to clean the kitchen. I showered. I waited for a taxi or bus for almost an hour and cried. Watch it all around me. Analyze, sadness, reality, beauty, grief, heavy lives, drama. I saw and felt it all. I don’t know if I have ever felt or experienced so much pain, tears, screams, and grief in one night.
I arrived in Xochicalgo and began to cry. Hugged myself. Realized how lonely I feel, almost abandoned. I let the mountain heal me. I lied on the rock, sang to the wind, and breathed in beauty, forgiveness, strenth, and faith. Feeling better yet drained and filled with emotion. I have more to release. It goes back for years. It hurts but is good, and important for me.
6/30/10
Exhaustion
I am tired. Exhausted, really. And it does not hit until I walk through the door when the day is over. And this is when I give thanks to the beautiful warm meal that is waiting for me. For the folded laundry that smells wonderful. My eyes hurt and my head feels heavy. I need space but haven’t figured out how to fit it into my long days. I am done with dinner by 10:30 and I have no energy left. I get into bed and crash until my alarm goes off the next morning.
The house I am now living in is changing with my presence. When I arrived they had been buying all of their tortillas. Now we make them. And the daughter, Karen, who is 14 loves it and makes herself the cutest little tortillas you have ever seen. Graciela, my host mom, still has trouble making them so she leaves it up to us. It’s cute. And she is constantly asking what I like to eat so that I can eat what I like and eat well. And because I do not eat meat, her family is taking a break from meat as well. Both she and her husband hold me that their stomachs feel lighter from not eating so much meat. Wheee! Also, they were drinking huge glasses of milk at night, and with me around, milk is changing into herbal tea. Good habits… We will probably make some granola soon too.
It is important for me to continue to reflect on my experiences at the Orphanage, so here goes…the children are in so much pain. They hurt, they are sad, they are angry, feeling lost without a place or someone to love them. They are aggressive, demanding, sassy, and abusive to one another. They hit, scream, and cry instead of using their words. And when they do begin to cry they have no one to comfort them. They are on their own.
Today I sat watching a two year old sitting on the grass, by himself, crying. And no one came to his rescue. The caretakers could have, but did not, and I realized they cannot because if they rescue one child, they have to rescue all of the others as well, and there are simply too many children and too little rescuers. I am pained inside to think of the emptiness that these children grow up with. Who will they become in the future? What are the odds that they are not abusive, addicts, or estranged and violent to and with the world? They are too young to feel and experience what they feel, but it is a reality. It gives me pain inside. I want to reach out to all of them, but they are almost already out of control. And the control they are given, and control they know, comes in the shape and form of aggressiveness. They are spoken to and taken care of aggressively. They only listen when the command becomes a threat. Again, I don’t mean to be generalizing or assuming, but this is what I have seen (in two days, that is). And maybe my perspective will change.
But it is not easy. Not enough staff, not enough money, not enough healing, caring, and compassionate programs. I want to reach out, to learn how to create true healing communities for children who are lonely and sick in the world, like the children at the conviviencia.
And it pains me even more to see how the majority of the children are a bit deformed, or have special needs. One doesn’t walk right, two are in a wheelchair, more than have have expressionless eyes, as if their souls are already lost to the world. Were they abandoned from their families because they didn’t come out “normal?” I hope not, but one can only question…it hurts and gives me pain inside…and I can only imagine their hurt and pain…..we have lot to pray for.
The house I am now living in is changing with my presence. When I arrived they had been buying all of their tortillas. Now we make them. And the daughter, Karen, who is 14 loves it and makes herself the cutest little tortillas you have ever seen. Graciela, my host mom, still has trouble making them so she leaves it up to us. It’s cute. And she is constantly asking what I like to eat so that I can eat what I like and eat well. And because I do not eat meat, her family is taking a break from meat as well. Both she and her husband hold me that their stomachs feel lighter from not eating so much meat. Wheee! Also, they were drinking huge glasses of milk at night, and with me around, milk is changing into herbal tea. Good habits… We will probably make some granola soon too.
It is important for me to continue to reflect on my experiences at the Orphanage, so here goes…the children are in so much pain. They hurt, they are sad, they are angry, feeling lost without a place or someone to love them. They are aggressive, demanding, sassy, and abusive to one another. They hit, scream, and cry instead of using their words. And when they do begin to cry they have no one to comfort them. They are on their own.
Today I sat watching a two year old sitting on the grass, by himself, crying. And no one came to his rescue. The caretakers could have, but did not, and I realized they cannot because if they rescue one child, they have to rescue all of the others as well, and there are simply too many children and too little rescuers. I am pained inside to think of the emptiness that these children grow up with. Who will they become in the future? What are the odds that they are not abusive, addicts, or estranged and violent to and with the world? They are too young to feel and experience what they feel, but it is a reality. It gives me pain inside. I want to reach out to all of them, but they are almost already out of control. And the control they are given, and control they know, comes in the shape and form of aggressiveness. They are spoken to and taken care of aggressively. They only listen when the command becomes a threat. Again, I don’t mean to be generalizing or assuming, but this is what I have seen (in two days, that is). And maybe my perspective will change.
But it is not easy. Not enough staff, not enough money, not enough healing, caring, and compassionate programs. I want to reach out, to learn how to create true healing communities for children who are lonely and sick in the world, like the children at the conviviencia.
And it pains me even more to see how the majority of the children are a bit deformed, or have special needs. One doesn’t walk right, two are in a wheelchair, more than have have expressionless eyes, as if their souls are already lost to the world. Were they abandoned from their families because they didn’t come out “normal?” I hope not, but one can only question…it hurts and gives me pain inside…and I can only imagine their hurt and pain…..we have lot to pray for.
6/29/10
Here
Feeling it All
Breathing in
Breathing OUT.
Bring in pain. Release it into the winds.
Rolling. Tight. Trapped. Chest, body, spirit, soul.
Dance, movement, Expression. Eyes, body, euphoria.
I see many worlds. Mainly two. Mine and theirs. Ours and theres. Modern day reality and indigenous reality. Two worlds. Trying, fighting to combine both. Wanting, but feeling pulled.
Water, tears. Tight chest, tight face. Heavy eyes. Breathe in. Breathe OUT.
Wanting to embrace beauty, embrace the light. Seeing it in the distance. Navigating my two worlds. Los dos mundos.
Looking for outlets to release. Feeling, seeing, believing love. But for others. Trying to define it for myself.
Two worlds. Breathe it in, Breathe it OUT.
Wanting outlets to release. Breath, song, dance, movement, art, words. I see, I feel. But still feel stuck and angry?
Anger. Exists inside me but where? Why? Challenge to see, or admit? I see/feel sadness, and fear, but anger not as clearly as I would like. Rolling, up and down. Side to side. In and out. But there it stays, inside. How do I let it out? Where is my point of release? And in what form?
Feeling, seeing, being. Loving, feeling, seeing, being, LOVING, but for whom?
Love gone backwards. You, you, you, you, then me. How to switch? Me then you.
Hard. Undefined.
Process. Patience. Lessons. Life Lessons.
Grateful. So greateful. Not every day are we invited to confront los aires. So lucky.
Greatful to be, greatful to see, to feel, to touch, to hear. To be. To be. To be.
Wanting to embrace the world, but needing to embrace myself first. So much harder. ME. It even feels awkward to say, to feel, to write. Uncomfortable. Because we are taught not to? I am not sure.
Learning. Embracing, wanting, seeing
Two worlds around me. Trying to find balance between the two. Where do I belong? Where do we belong?
Questioning, reflecting, questioning, thinking. Every day. Seeing, watching, learning, loving, being.
So far yet so close. How far is my soul? Dónde está mi alma? Estoy lista?
Breathing in
Breathing OUT.
Bring in pain. Release it into the winds.
Rolling. Tight. Trapped. Chest, body, spirit, soul.
Dance, movement, Expression. Eyes, body, euphoria.
I see many worlds. Mainly two. Mine and theirs. Ours and theres. Modern day reality and indigenous reality. Two worlds. Trying, fighting to combine both. Wanting, but feeling pulled.
Water, tears. Tight chest, tight face. Heavy eyes. Breathe in. Breathe OUT.
Wanting to embrace beauty, embrace the light. Seeing it in the distance. Navigating my two worlds. Los dos mundos.
Looking for outlets to release. Feeling, seeing, believing love. But for others. Trying to define it for myself.
Two worlds. Breathe it in, Breathe it OUT.
Wanting outlets to release. Breath, song, dance, movement, art, words. I see, I feel. But still feel stuck and angry?
Anger. Exists inside me but where? Why? Challenge to see, or admit? I see/feel sadness, and fear, but anger not as clearly as I would like. Rolling, up and down. Side to side. In and out. But there it stays, inside. How do I let it out? Where is my point of release? And in what form?
Feeling, seeing, being. Loving, feeling, seeing, being, LOVING, but for whom?
Love gone backwards. You, you, you, you, then me. How to switch? Me then you.
Hard. Undefined.
Process. Patience. Lessons. Life Lessons.
Grateful. So greateful. Not every day are we invited to confront los aires. So lucky.
Greatful to be, greatful to see, to feel, to touch, to hear. To be. To be. To be.
Wanting to embrace the world, but needing to embrace myself first. So much harder. ME. It even feels awkward to say, to feel, to write. Uncomfortable. Because we are taught not to? I am not sure.
Learning. Embracing, wanting, seeing
Two worlds around me. Trying to find balance between the two. Where do I belong? Where do we belong?
Questioning, reflecting, questioning, thinking. Every day. Seeing, watching, learning, loving, being.
So far yet so close. How far is my soul? Dónde está mi alma? Estoy lista?
6/28/10
I Cried
I cried. First I thought it was simply a release of my day at the orphanage, but as tears began to fall I realized it was because I was no longer going to be living with Dany either. We fell into each other’s arms crying, and my tears did not stop until I walked into the front door of my new house. Crazy. I feel like I just moved to another location completely. Although I am only a few blocks from Estela’s house, my social environment is completely different. I have a mom who will bend over backwards for me, a little sister who is obsessed with TV and Hannah Montana, and a dad that works hard as a school teacher to support his family. Their home is beautiful – they built it fifteen years ago and have artisan furniture and pieces from Jalisco all over. I have a giant king sized bed and outside of my room is a huge beautiful balcony. Feels weird to be treated like a guest. I have become so accustomed to my life at Estela’s. I feel like I am on vacation or something. The bathroom is HUGE. I showered in hot water for the first time in MONTHS. Felt nice. Such a luxury though. So are many things….
We eat a dinner of jugo de papaya, tortas de platano, frijoles, and tortillas. Afterwards everyone drank their glass of milk with pan dulce. Felt silly, really. This is definitely a hard working, yet upper middle class Mexican family. Will be a completely different experience from Estela’s. And although it was hard to leave Dany, I think this experience will be fulfilling for me. In many ways….
Back to the orphanage….I realized I have never been to an orphanage. We walked inside and I was shocked. Wow. I thought, this is beautiful, like a forest. There were huge trees surrounding the grounds, beautiful murals of animals in nature, clean looking buildings, and a huge playground with space to play AND a stadium for basketball with bleachers.
We were all excited to see and begin working with the children. We began in groups, we had a group playing soccer, a group dancing, doing art projects, and yoga. After about 30 minutes the groups seemed to disappear, and the children began to do their own thing and demand attention from us. Their demands ripped me apart. These children have no one to love them, I thought to myself. No parents, no home. This was their home, and as beautiful at it was, I could see and feel that the children were very much incomplete. As if their souls were very far away. Lost, needing love and everything more. It was so sad. So sad. So draining to be with them. And one of the harder parts about it was that many of them had disabilities, as if their parents didn’t want them because of this.
I began to think of all of the children in the world who are abused, or left without parents or anyone to give them food, shelter, or love. The millions of children. And they are going to grow up to….be filled with hate, anger, aggression, and who knows what else. Makes me feel sick. And worried. I just want to give them love and a sense of belonging. Such hard work. Where do we begin????
We eat a dinner of jugo de papaya, tortas de platano, frijoles, and tortillas. Afterwards everyone drank their glass of milk with pan dulce. Felt silly, really. This is definitely a hard working, yet upper middle class Mexican family. Will be a completely different experience from Estela’s. And although it was hard to leave Dany, I think this experience will be fulfilling for me. In many ways….
Back to the orphanage….I realized I have never been to an orphanage. We walked inside and I was shocked. Wow. I thought, this is beautiful, like a forest. There were huge trees surrounding the grounds, beautiful murals of animals in nature, clean looking buildings, and a huge playground with space to play AND a stadium for basketball with bleachers.
We were all excited to see and begin working with the children. We began in groups, we had a group playing soccer, a group dancing, doing art projects, and yoga. After about 30 minutes the groups seemed to disappear, and the children began to do their own thing and demand attention from us. Their demands ripped me apart. These children have no one to love them, I thought to myself. No parents, no home. This was their home, and as beautiful at it was, I could see and feel that the children were very much incomplete. As if their souls were very far away. Lost, needing love and everything more. It was so sad. So sad. So draining to be with them. And one of the harder parts about it was that many of them had disabilities, as if their parents didn’t want them because of this.
I began to think of all of the children in the world who are abused, or left without parents or anyone to give them food, shelter, or love. The millions of children. And they are going to grow up to….be filled with hate, anger, aggression, and who knows what else. Makes me feel sick. And worried. I just want to give them love and a sense of belonging. Such hard work. Where do we begin????
6/23/10
Ross Gandy
Professor Ross Gandy came to visit us today. He is from Texas, but has lived here in Mexico for the last fifteen plus years. He is married to a Mexican woman and is now actually blacklisted from the U.S. (From his teaching years in the Reagan era). He gave us quite the talk - a socio-political-economical history of Mexico from the Mexican Revolution until present day in the 21st century. He began with a story, and his story turned into a whole history that explained very clearly the present conditions, socially, politically, and economically, in Mexico today.
His story began with Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata, who were the main characters of the Mexican Revolution. The revolution ended in 1920, and so began land reform in Mexico. In 1940, Lázaro Cárdenas became president of Mexico (yes I am skipping through some years here to get to the point) and his presidency marked a great change in Mexico. He was loved by the people, and known as the sphinx, for instead of talking like most politicians today, he did things. He made change and worked with the people. Amongst many things, he opened 34 rural teaching training schools so that la gente indigena could relate with rising and about to be industrialized country. 1940 until 2000 marks an age of industrialization in Mexico. Agri-business began to flow in, and those in power began to want to mirror their country like the all-mighty country above them, the United States of America. In 1942, after WWII, Chrystler, General Electric, CocaCola, etc. began to flow in and lead the businesses in Mexico. 1951 the government began to offer cheap sugar subsidies so that CocaCola, for example could continue to offer its service to the people. From 1980 until today, free trade, market, and enterprise is alive and well between Mexico and outside countries. The 20th Century until today have been called the "marginalizing" decades. Lovely, isn't it?
The story continues...
10% of the people in Mexico are super rich. ALL power and priorities are in these hands. 10%.
20% of the people in Mexico are middle class professionals.
70% are peasant workers.
There are 100,000,000 people living in Mexico.
The super rich and middle class professionals are concerned with buying a car, toilet paper, kleenex, canned goods, coke, detergent, and washing machines.
The peasant workers with public transport, food, toilets, textbooks, school, health, water, housing, and jobs.
It is almost impossible to get to and from work in Mexico City. The factories are on the west side and the housing on the eastside. At least two and a half hours each way. Mexico City is one of the most polluted cities in the world. In fact, there is so much lead in the air that families are advised to move their children out of the city. It is no longer safe for children to breathe the air.
Toilet paper costs about 3 pesos a roll. There are more forms of toilet paper produced in Mexico City than all of the world. Only 30% of Mexico has access to this paper. The rest is exported to the rest of the world. Toilet paper is a luxury. The other 70% of Mexico is not worried about whether or not they have toilet paper, but toilets. 4 million people in Mexico live without a toilet and Mexico produces 50,000 tons of shit daily. Toilet paper versus toilets versus shit. Let's think about this for a minute...
Water. 1/2 of the water in Mexico is polluted. Coke is cheaper to buy than water. Therefore, people drink coke to hydrate themselves. Every one in three people in Mexico now has diabetes. It is now the leading cause of death in Mexico.
Text books. Although Mexico is one of the leading producers of paper, and although textbooks in the U.S., which are probably manufactured in Mexico, are free in the U.S., they are quite costly in Mexico. Textbooks are not free, and families can barely afford them. The daily minimum wage in Mexico is $57 pesos a day. This is a little bit less than five dollars. To put this all into perspective a bit more, on average, 6.5 people live in one room. 6.5 people to a room.
1/2 of electricity is free in Mexico. People have no water, no housing, no toilets, underdeveloped schools, no jobs, but they have electricity. Why? Because the government wants the people to have access to TELEVISION. There is 1 TV per family in Mexico. 4% of Mexicans will ever buy a book and 1.5% read any type of newspaper at all.
Iowa now produces 3 times more corn than Mexico and 30% of Mexico now cultivates poppies and marijuana because free trade policies have taken away their production such as corn. Their income now depends on the Narco-economy.
40% of the population evades paying their taxes. It is as much as a crime in Mexico as running a red light. No biggie. Sales tax is now up to 16%. There is no money going to the people. It all rests in the hands of those who control the T.V. Oh, did I say that the TV company, which everyone has access to through their televisions, heavily sensors what is put on television? Are you beginning to connect the dots?
None of this is easy, or pleasant to hear, but it is a reality, and a wake up call for us to begin to realize the effects of industrialization, globalization, and the disparity gap between rich and poor. Also for us to begin to see how the poor are ripped to pieces while the rich continue to live in luxury. Let's begin to wake up. I invite you all.
His story began with Pancho Villa and Emiliano Zapata, who were the main characters of the Mexican Revolution. The revolution ended in 1920, and so began land reform in Mexico. In 1940, Lázaro Cárdenas became president of Mexico (yes I am skipping through some years here to get to the point) and his presidency marked a great change in Mexico. He was loved by the people, and known as the sphinx, for instead of talking like most politicians today, he did things. He made change and worked with the people. Amongst many things, he opened 34 rural teaching training schools so that la gente indigena could relate with rising and about to be industrialized country. 1940 until 2000 marks an age of industrialization in Mexico. Agri-business began to flow in, and those in power began to want to mirror their country like the all-mighty country above them, the United States of America. In 1942, after WWII, Chrystler, General Electric, CocaCola, etc. began to flow in and lead the businesses in Mexico. 1951 the government began to offer cheap sugar subsidies so that CocaCola, for example could continue to offer its service to the people. From 1980 until today, free trade, market, and enterprise is alive and well between Mexico and outside countries. The 20th Century until today have been called the "marginalizing" decades. Lovely, isn't it?
The story continues...
10% of the people in Mexico are super rich. ALL power and priorities are in these hands. 10%.
20% of the people in Mexico are middle class professionals.
70% are peasant workers.
There are 100,000,000 people living in Mexico.
The super rich and middle class professionals are concerned with buying a car, toilet paper, kleenex, canned goods, coke, detergent, and washing machines.
The peasant workers with public transport, food, toilets, textbooks, school, health, water, housing, and jobs.
It is almost impossible to get to and from work in Mexico City. The factories are on the west side and the housing on the eastside. At least two and a half hours each way. Mexico City is one of the most polluted cities in the world. In fact, there is so much lead in the air that families are advised to move their children out of the city. It is no longer safe for children to breathe the air.
Toilet paper costs about 3 pesos a roll. There are more forms of toilet paper produced in Mexico City than all of the world. Only 30% of Mexico has access to this paper. The rest is exported to the rest of the world. Toilet paper is a luxury. The other 70% of Mexico is not worried about whether or not they have toilet paper, but toilets. 4 million people in Mexico live without a toilet and Mexico produces 50,000 tons of shit daily. Toilet paper versus toilets versus shit. Let's think about this for a minute...
Water. 1/2 of the water in Mexico is polluted. Coke is cheaper to buy than water. Therefore, people drink coke to hydrate themselves. Every one in three people in Mexico now has diabetes. It is now the leading cause of death in Mexico.
Text books. Although Mexico is one of the leading producers of paper, and although textbooks in the U.S., which are probably manufactured in Mexico, are free in the U.S., they are quite costly in Mexico. Textbooks are not free, and families can barely afford them. The daily minimum wage in Mexico is $57 pesos a day. This is a little bit less than five dollars. To put this all into perspective a bit more, on average, 6.5 people live in one room. 6.5 people to a room.
1/2 of electricity is free in Mexico. People have no water, no housing, no toilets, underdeveloped schools, no jobs, but they have electricity. Why? Because the government wants the people to have access to TELEVISION. There is 1 TV per family in Mexico. 4% of Mexicans will ever buy a book and 1.5% read any type of newspaper at all.
Iowa now produces 3 times more corn than Mexico and 30% of Mexico now cultivates poppies and marijuana because free trade policies have taken away their production such as corn. Their income now depends on the Narco-economy.
40% of the population evades paying their taxes. It is as much as a crime in Mexico as running a red light. No biggie. Sales tax is now up to 16%. There is no money going to the people. It all rests in the hands of those who control the T.V. Oh, did I say that the TV company, which everyone has access to through their televisions, heavily sensors what is put on television? Are you beginning to connect the dots?
None of this is easy, or pleasant to hear, but it is a reality, and a wake up call for us to begin to realize the effects of industrialization, globalization, and the disparity gap between rich and poor. Also for us to begin to see how the poor are ripped to pieces while the rich continue to live in luxury. Let's begin to wake up. I invite you all.
6/19/10
Running, Borders, and Cockroaches
Running.
Preparing.
Nothing is ever right, but oh well!
The more the merrier.
Cockroaches. Lots of them. Papers. Piles.
Mud, Dust, Dirt.
Cleaning.
Dusting.
Mopping.
mamamamamamamamrahahahahahahahah
I hear.
I laugh inside.
You should do.
I always do....
Don´t get it.
Ha.
Actually, I think I do.
Borders. I = white attraction. Go as I Please.
Danny = quiet native. Not allowed. Dark skinned, can´t pass.
Borders. Colors. Assumptions. Social Norms.
I laugh. Not about this, about other things.
It is really interesting what people say, and then what they actually do.
Learning, growing tougher.
Laugh instead of cry.
Its good.
Pretty ridiculous, but good.
So much more to write about but now I am exhausted.
Yesterday slept three hours to go to the market with Pepe to buy produce for his store. The market never sleeps, and people work their asses off. Literally. Never stops. Always moving. To eat. To live. To survive.
Atole and arroz con leche. Rico. Lack of sleep. Haven´t stopped. But all is well.
Tomorrow we start all over again.
Buenas.
Preparing.
Nothing is ever right, but oh well!
The more the merrier.
Cockroaches. Lots of them. Papers. Piles.
Mud, Dust, Dirt.
Cleaning.
Dusting.
Mopping.
mamamamamamamamrahahahahahahahah
I hear.
I laugh inside.
You should do.
I always do....
Don´t get it.
Ha.
Actually, I think I do.
Borders. I = white attraction. Go as I Please.
Danny = quiet native. Not allowed. Dark skinned, can´t pass.
Borders. Colors. Assumptions. Social Norms.
I laugh. Not about this, about other things.
It is really interesting what people say, and then what they actually do.
Learning, growing tougher.
Laugh instead of cry.
Its good.
Pretty ridiculous, but good.
So much more to write about but now I am exhausted.
Yesterday slept three hours to go to the market with Pepe to buy produce for his store. The market never sleeps, and people work their asses off. Literally. Never stops. Always moving. To eat. To live. To survive.
Atole and arroz con leche. Rico. Lack of sleep. Haven´t stopped. But all is well.
Tomorrow we start all over again.
Buenas.
6/14/10
A Little Bit of Everything....
AAAAH!
I miss home. I am homesick. I am frustrated. Wanting and trying to feel accomlished about my time here. Trying to clarify my role, for myself, and others. Trying to find my own voice and opinions and not let others affect me so. Realizing that as a U.S. citizen, I come from a country whose culture and values does not necessarily match the cultures and values of the country in which I am in. I see perspectives from many angles - my own, Estela´s, Dany´s, her sister´s, her mom´s, the neighbors, my parents, etc. etc. Everyone sees it all a bit differently, everyone has different expectations and opinions. Trying to find my own that is culturally appropriate and respected. So many differences....generational, educational, cultural, geographical, etc. etc.
I have been home more alone lately. Estela is out and busy and Dany has not been here. As good as it is for me to have my own space, it is much easier to feel lonely. I am spending more time with the neighbors, which is always fun, but they have their own lives too. Trying, and wanting, to piece it all together, even though I am not sure I can. Wishing I had a few more friends my age to spend time with. Especially in the evenings, etc. Every mistake is a new lesson learned. Many mistakes here. Many lessons. A lot to learn. Still learning. It is not easy to travel, but important. And not just to travel, but to immerse oneself in another community, culture, home, lifestyle, than their own. Opens our eyes, views, perspectives, passions, inspirations.....erases stereotpyes, judgements...
I am not sure if I miss home or if it is simply that I am missing something here. I think it is a bit of both, because if I was completely content here, I would not be missig home as much. I miss friends, family, company, freedom and time to hike, adventure, go to the beach, summer bbq´s, etc. Soon it will come, but first an intense month ahead of me. Trying to build my strength and energy for it all. Build my wall and focus, my intentions. Because it will all come and go and I don´t want regrets. Lessons learned are good, but regrets, no. Building myself up, my self esteem, self worth, self passion, love, etc. Estela is right, we have no clue how to love ourselves, and depend on others to give us what we think is love. WHAT IS LOVE? And what does it actually feel like to truely love oneself? I think that this is a life lesson, and maybe, just maybe, one day I will be lucky enough to find out.
It feels good to right. I have a lot to express. I have heard many stories, of neighbors, their families, and friends. Life is not easy here. These people life through sooooo many hardships, yet carry on with their every day lives. They all work so damn hard, and earn so little. Just enough to feed their families well. There is usually very little left over. Tragedies....deaths, suicides, sickness, freak accidents....these people have experienced it all, and sometimes their faces tell, but sometimes not. They carry on, with smiles in their hearts and a willingness to open their homes and share with others.
Yesterday, as I was home alone all day long, I was invited to two different households to eat. Everyone knows when Estela is around and when she is not, and we all watch out for one another.
Angelica is 21 years old and her mom is pressuring her to marry. She is not ready, but feels many social pressres. I can hardly imagine.
I am spitting out random thoughts now, but this is reality, this is truth here. If only we could all listen to others a bit more instead of being so incredibly preoccupied with our own lives. I wonder what that would look like...How, and in which ways, the world would shift. I am willing and ready to start, are you?
I miss home. I am homesick. I am frustrated. Wanting and trying to feel accomlished about my time here. Trying to clarify my role, for myself, and others. Trying to find my own voice and opinions and not let others affect me so. Realizing that as a U.S. citizen, I come from a country whose culture and values does not necessarily match the cultures and values of the country in which I am in. I see perspectives from many angles - my own, Estela´s, Dany´s, her sister´s, her mom´s, the neighbors, my parents, etc. etc. Everyone sees it all a bit differently, everyone has different expectations and opinions. Trying to find my own that is culturally appropriate and respected. So many differences....generational, educational, cultural, geographical, etc. etc.
I have been home more alone lately. Estela is out and busy and Dany has not been here. As good as it is for me to have my own space, it is much easier to feel lonely. I am spending more time with the neighbors, which is always fun, but they have their own lives too. Trying, and wanting, to piece it all together, even though I am not sure I can. Wishing I had a few more friends my age to spend time with. Especially in the evenings, etc. Every mistake is a new lesson learned. Many mistakes here. Many lessons. A lot to learn. Still learning. It is not easy to travel, but important. And not just to travel, but to immerse oneself in another community, culture, home, lifestyle, than their own. Opens our eyes, views, perspectives, passions, inspirations.....erases stereotpyes, judgements...
I am not sure if I miss home or if it is simply that I am missing something here. I think it is a bit of both, because if I was completely content here, I would not be missig home as much. I miss friends, family, company, freedom and time to hike, adventure, go to the beach, summer bbq´s, etc. Soon it will come, but first an intense month ahead of me. Trying to build my strength and energy for it all. Build my wall and focus, my intentions. Because it will all come and go and I don´t want regrets. Lessons learned are good, but regrets, no. Building myself up, my self esteem, self worth, self passion, love, etc. Estela is right, we have no clue how to love ourselves, and depend on others to give us what we think is love. WHAT IS LOVE? And what does it actually feel like to truely love oneself? I think that this is a life lesson, and maybe, just maybe, one day I will be lucky enough to find out.
It feels good to right. I have a lot to express. I have heard many stories, of neighbors, their families, and friends. Life is not easy here. These people life through sooooo many hardships, yet carry on with their every day lives. They all work so damn hard, and earn so little. Just enough to feed their families well. There is usually very little left over. Tragedies....deaths, suicides, sickness, freak accidents....these people have experienced it all, and sometimes their faces tell, but sometimes not. They carry on, with smiles in their hearts and a willingness to open their homes and share with others.
Yesterday, as I was home alone all day long, I was invited to two different households to eat. Everyone knows when Estela is around and when she is not, and we all watch out for one another.
Angelica is 21 years old and her mom is pressuring her to marry. She is not ready, but feels many social pressres. I can hardly imagine.
I am spitting out random thoughts now, but this is reality, this is truth here. If only we could all listen to others a bit more instead of being so incredibly preoccupied with our own lives. I wonder what that would look like...How, and in which ways, the world would shift. I am willing and ready to start, are you?
6/10/10
Pulque and Language
After raking the yard and sweeping the outside area, we all sat down for a pancake breakfast. Banana oatmeal pancakes with fresh fruit and maple syrup. Yuuuuummmm.
I then left with Delia to see her school. Strange to be back in a private school environment, but there I was. I will be back there for real before I know it.
Instead of going straight home, we decided to stop for pulque! Up into the mountains we went, where the temperature drops about ten degrees and the air feels cleaner and fresher. Down a little dirt road we turned, arriving at the Pulque spot. Allí estuvo el Señor, haciendo sus cosas. Nos sentamos a probar el pulque, y placticamos con el por un buen rato. (There was the owner, doing his things. We sat down together to try the pulque, and talked for a good while). I am writing this small segment in both English and Spanish to share with you a new realization of my own. What I say in Spanish doesn´t quite sound right in English, if I translate it directly, and vice a versa. I have come to a point where I don´t translate my thoughts in my head from English to Spanish so that they come out right. I simply talk from my heart, I have delved a bit deeper into the culture and language, to a point in which I do not need to think about translations anymore. What fun! And if I do think of translations, it just sounds silly in the end. For example, we were driving and the people behind us were obnoxiously impatient. I said, Ten Paciencia!!!, which means, have patience, and then laughed afterwards, realizing how silly it sounded in English. Well not silly, but I guess more proper.
I had a special moment at the Pulque spot too. There, talking with el Señor, I realized how much knowledge he held, about his country, his land, his plants, etc. And I became sad, very sad, thinking about all of the indigenous people, people of color, people who are disregarded in our society, whose knowledge, which to me, has great value, is given no value at all. To society at large, this man is a poor, dark man who works in the fields. To me, he is gold. A pot of gold filled with knowledge, history, customs, stories, etc. I only wish we could all acknowledge this gem more.
I then left with Delia to see her school. Strange to be back in a private school environment, but there I was. I will be back there for real before I know it.
Instead of going straight home, we decided to stop for pulque! Up into the mountains we went, where the temperature drops about ten degrees and the air feels cleaner and fresher. Down a little dirt road we turned, arriving at the Pulque spot. Allí estuvo el Señor, haciendo sus cosas. Nos sentamos a probar el pulque, y placticamos con el por un buen rato. (There was the owner, doing his things. We sat down together to try the pulque, and talked for a good while). I am writing this small segment in both English and Spanish to share with you a new realization of my own. What I say in Spanish doesn´t quite sound right in English, if I translate it directly, and vice a versa. I have come to a point where I don´t translate my thoughts in my head from English to Spanish so that they come out right. I simply talk from my heart, I have delved a bit deeper into the culture and language, to a point in which I do not need to think about translations anymore. What fun! And if I do think of translations, it just sounds silly in the end. For example, we were driving and the people behind us were obnoxiously impatient. I said, Ten Paciencia!!!, which means, have patience, and then laughed afterwards, realizing how silly it sounded in English. Well not silly, but I guess more proper.
I had a special moment at the Pulque spot too. There, talking with el Señor, I realized how much knowledge he held, about his country, his land, his plants, etc. And I became sad, very sad, thinking about all of the indigenous people, people of color, people who are disregarded in our society, whose knowledge, which to me, has great value, is given no value at all. To society at large, this man is a poor, dark man who works in the fields. To me, he is gold. A pot of gold filled with knowledge, history, customs, stories, etc. I only wish we could all acknowledge this gem more.
6/9/10
Tree Hugs and Composts...
Yesterday we went to Las Huertas. A water/jungle sanctuary that runs along a huge river!!! The space is communically owned, it costs about 5 bucks a person to enter, and once you enter - water oasis!!! There is a huge pool at the top where the water is born, kind of like Las Estacas, and from there cascade waterfalls and multiple pools of water!!! The place is surrounded by hugs trees, whose roots hug the ground and make designs with their long fingers and toes. Mini waterfalls to give you a massage - a natural spa indeed! We spent half the day here, eating, resting, swimming, and playing. I can´t wait to go back, and when I do, I will bring my camera for sure!
This morning I was up by 7am, waiting for Delia to build a new compost with her. Waiting for her, I did yoga amongst the freshly watered plants from the rain last night. Every night about 10pm the wind comes, and from there, the rain. Thunder, lightning, its loud, and a bit scary. But we need the water, and its fun to wake up in the mornings and do a bit of water amongst the damp plants and grass.
By 8-30am we were out digging a huge hole in the back yard. About 1 meter in depth and .5 meters in width. It was a lot of work, but between the three of us, Delia, Dany, and I, it was fun! We took tuns digging and in two hours, whala! A new compost to be exists...It feels to wake up early in the mornings and do something physical. I feel like I am growing stronger. From it all really - sweeping, mopping, cleaning, cooking, working in the garden, starting the temezcal, etc. Days are flying, and I have little time left to go. Many mixed feelings. I am looking forward to going home but also will miss a lot, a lot, about my life here. There are many values and practices that I do intend to take home with me, however.
Anyways, before I begin writing a book, I will leave you here. Until next time.
J
This morning I was up by 7am, waiting for Delia to build a new compost with her. Waiting for her, I did yoga amongst the freshly watered plants from the rain last night. Every night about 10pm the wind comes, and from there, the rain. Thunder, lightning, its loud, and a bit scary. But we need the water, and its fun to wake up in the mornings and do a bit of water amongst the damp plants and grass.
By 8-30am we were out digging a huge hole in the back yard. About 1 meter in depth and .5 meters in width. It was a lot of work, but between the three of us, Delia, Dany, and I, it was fun! We took tuns digging and in two hours, whala! A new compost to be exists...It feels to wake up early in the mornings and do something physical. I feel like I am growing stronger. From it all really - sweeping, mopping, cleaning, cooking, working in the garden, starting the temezcal, etc. Days are flying, and I have little time left to go. Many mixed feelings. I am looking forward to going home but also will miss a lot, a lot, about my life here. There are many values and practices that I do intend to take home with me, however.
Anyways, before I begin writing a book, I will leave you here. Until next time.
J
6/6/10
Lucky me...
Lucky me, is all I can say.
I had a wonderful birthday. Dany and I left for Tepotzlan in the morning, hiked all of the way to the top, met a man at the top who from there took us even higher. We hiked to the highest peak of the whole Tepotzlan!!! Beautiful views, forests, etc.
We ended up hiking back down to the town next door, Tepotzlan, and from there took three buses back to Estela´s house.
Once back at the house, I made my chocolate cakes, and the guests began to arrive!!!
I was showered with flowers, fruit, children, more cake, and wine!
It was a blast - we all ate cake together, and Estela, Delia, and Kimberly began to make mega pizzas in the oven outside! They turned out delicious and everyone had a good time.
Yesterday I travelled two hours to a very small organic farmers market with Dany. There we met Julieta and ate delicious homemade organic goodies...
Two hours back to arrive in time for yoga classes and Temezcal!
Today was the first day I was able to rest in awhile. I cleaned, read, and hung out with Andrea, Jorge, and Dylan. They showered me with hugs all day long! Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, they constantly say. Jenny, look, or Jenny, come play! Jenny, I am going to give you a hug!!! So sweet and I feel so blessed and lucky to have them in my life. The kids here have definitely hit a soft spot in my heart. I really do enjoy their company, their honesty, and wisdom. We had another little yoga sesstion this evening - its fun to see how much the kids enjoy doing yoga, and they are asking me every day when the next class will be.
I only hope to keep giving until I leave. Time is flying and I will be home before I know it.
Until next time.
J
I had a wonderful birthday. Dany and I left for Tepotzlan in the morning, hiked all of the way to the top, met a man at the top who from there took us even higher. We hiked to the highest peak of the whole Tepotzlan!!! Beautiful views, forests, etc.
We ended up hiking back down to the town next door, Tepotzlan, and from there took three buses back to Estela´s house.
Once back at the house, I made my chocolate cakes, and the guests began to arrive!!!
I was showered with flowers, fruit, children, more cake, and wine!
It was a blast - we all ate cake together, and Estela, Delia, and Kimberly began to make mega pizzas in the oven outside! They turned out delicious and everyone had a good time.
Yesterday I travelled two hours to a very small organic farmers market with Dany. There we met Julieta and ate delicious homemade organic goodies...
Two hours back to arrive in time for yoga classes and Temezcal!
Today was the first day I was able to rest in awhile. I cleaned, read, and hung out with Andrea, Jorge, and Dylan. They showered me with hugs all day long! Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, they constantly say. Jenny, look, or Jenny, come play! Jenny, I am going to give you a hug!!! So sweet and I feel so blessed and lucky to have them in my life. The kids here have definitely hit a soft spot in my heart. I really do enjoy their company, their honesty, and wisdom. We had another little yoga sesstion this evening - its fun to see how much the kids enjoy doing yoga, and they are asking me every day when the next class will be.
I only hope to keep giving until I leave. Time is flying and I will be home before I know it.
Until next time.
J
5/28/10
White Birds
Ok. A lot to catch up on.
First las Estacas. Went with Dany, four of her sisters, her nephew, and two boys. I will describe it in three words - clear, fresh water. The water comes all of the way from Popo, a volcano, but is literally birthed from underground into what has now been named as Las Estacas. The property is now privately owned, but there are rivers and canals of water that run for miles. All perfectly clear, clean, shining. Full of flora and fauna. The current pushes you through. Animals, trees, flowers. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful.
(The whole where the water is born from)
What next...Estela´s friends came to visit from the states. We took a trip to Taxco - land of silver. I literally felt as if I was in Europe. Because this town was literally built over a silver mine,it attracted many Europeans of high status in the past. Therefore, they designed it accordingly. Cobble stone streets, small alley ways, uniquely designed windows - this place definitely had its on touch. Europe but inhabited with Mexicans....whhaaat??? Where am I? And silver! UP to my ears and back. Shops do not sell anything else. If you do not sell silver you are unemployed in Taxco. Beautiful place. If you want to define beauty by European colonialization, domnation, and sobordination. Makes you think twice. Anyways,worth the trip to see once. I have pics - will upload them shortly.
Oh,and did I mention that Toño came knocking on the door at 10pm asking Estela if she could take Dylan to the emergency room, cause he fell and had a deep cut above his eye. That was fun...He´s fine now, gracias a díos...
Today a group of twelve came from San Fran. state. We took them to Xochicalgo and then went to Cuentepec to eat lunch.
It was weird to hang with Americans again, and to speak English. One of the girls had a daughter who was five years old, and I was shocked at the differences between her and Mexican children her age. She was very closed minded, bratty, and guided by materialism. Ah, scary...Also a bit surprising about the Chicanas. Huge disconnect from their past and history and ancestors with who they are and their identies and Mexican-American women. Sad, really. I think it is because American culture, and education system, tend to squash and invalidate the customs and traditions they come from instead of promote and support them. People begin to have shame of them instead of pride. Aye, qué vamos a hacer????!!!!
Cuentepec is my breath, my air, my freedom. I immediately feel free when I go to Cuentepec. It is relieving and comforting for me to hear people speak their native tongue, woman walk through the streets in their native dress, eat simple yet delicious food, and be surrouded by kind, dear-hearted people who want nothing but for you to enjoy your time and space. Cuentepec is really a special place with very special people, and I hope with all of my might this will not be destroyed in 15 years due to globalizaiton, modernization, etc et.c. I can only hope and pray.
Oh, and how can I forget! Last night a healer came to the house to do a limpia because we have encountered a bit of negative male energy. The woman was walking with her sahumador in hand, stoped by me, and asked if she could touch me. i allowed her to, and she began to give me a limpia. she moved energy through my neck, blew copal over my body, and touched her head to mine, all the while making noises and blowing energy onto my body.
Afterwards she asked me to look her in the eyes. After looking at me for about three minutes, she began to speak to me. She told me that I am filled with love, nd have a lot of love to give. That my aura is amber and i will be hugged by many big trees. that my name is white bird and i will be surrounded by much light. that i will return to the states with wonderful energy. that i am sensitive, but must stand my ground.
she said it all. saw right through me. she knew nothing about me and i have never met this woman in my life. powerful. fascinating. amazing. wow. she also sensed my interest in healing and asked me about it. she asked if i talk to and her the spirits, and when i said no, she asked me why. i told her i was scared and she told me i must get rid of all of my fear. all of it.
she also read my mind and told me she knew i wanted to come to her house and talk with her more. she told me she didnt have time. interesting.
okay, i think this is enough for now. will write more later with fotos!
good night.
First las Estacas. Went with Dany, four of her sisters, her nephew, and two boys. I will describe it in three words - clear, fresh water. The water comes all of the way from Popo, a volcano, but is literally birthed from underground into what has now been named as Las Estacas. The property is now privately owned, but there are rivers and canals of water that run for miles. All perfectly clear, clean, shining. Full of flora and fauna. The current pushes you through. Animals, trees, flowers. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful.
(The whole where the water is born from)What next...Estela´s friends came to visit from the states. We took a trip to Taxco - land of silver. I literally felt as if I was in Europe. Because this town was literally built over a silver mine,it attracted many Europeans of high status in the past. Therefore, they designed it accordingly. Cobble stone streets, small alley ways, uniquely designed windows - this place definitely had its on touch. Europe but inhabited with Mexicans....whhaaat??? Where am I? And silver! UP to my ears and back. Shops do not sell anything else. If you do not sell silver you are unemployed in Taxco. Beautiful place. If you want to define beauty by European colonialization, domnation, and sobordination. Makes you think twice. Anyways,worth the trip to see once. I have pics - will upload them shortly.
Oh,and did I mention that Toño came knocking on the door at 10pm asking Estela if she could take Dylan to the emergency room, cause he fell and had a deep cut above his eye. That was fun...He´s fine now, gracias a díos...
Today a group of twelve came from San Fran. state. We took them to Xochicalgo and then went to Cuentepec to eat lunch.
It was weird to hang with Americans again, and to speak English. One of the girls had a daughter who was five years old, and I was shocked at the differences between her and Mexican children her age. She was very closed minded, bratty, and guided by materialism. Ah, scary...Also a bit surprising about the Chicanas. Huge disconnect from their past and history and ancestors with who they are and their identies and Mexican-American women. Sad, really. I think it is because American culture, and education system, tend to squash and invalidate the customs and traditions they come from instead of promote and support them. People begin to have shame of them instead of pride. Aye, qué vamos a hacer????!!!!
Cuentepec is my breath, my air, my freedom. I immediately feel free when I go to Cuentepec. It is relieving and comforting for me to hear people speak their native tongue, woman walk through the streets in their native dress, eat simple yet delicious food, and be surrouded by kind, dear-hearted people who want nothing but for you to enjoy your time and space. Cuentepec is really a special place with very special people, and I hope with all of my might this will not be destroyed in 15 years due to globalizaiton, modernization, etc et.c. I can only hope and pray.
Oh, and how can I forget! Last night a healer came to the house to do a limpia because we have encountered a bit of negative male energy. The woman was walking with her sahumador in hand, stoped by me, and asked if she could touch me. i allowed her to, and she began to give me a limpia. she moved energy through my neck, blew copal over my body, and touched her head to mine, all the while making noises and blowing energy onto my body.
Afterwards she asked me to look her in the eyes. After looking at me for about three minutes, she began to speak to me. She told me that I am filled with love, nd have a lot of love to give. That my aura is amber and i will be hugged by many big trees. that my name is white bird and i will be surrounded by much light. that i will return to the states with wonderful energy. that i am sensitive, but must stand my ground.
she said it all. saw right through me. she knew nothing about me and i have never met this woman in my life. powerful. fascinating. amazing. wow. she also sensed my interest in healing and asked me about it. she asked if i talk to and her the spirits, and when i said no, she asked me why. i told her i was scared and she told me i must get rid of all of my fear. all of it.
she also read my mind and told me she knew i wanted to come to her house and talk with her more. she told me she didnt have time. interesting.
okay, i think this is enough for now. will write more later with fotos!
good night.
5/24/10
Kitties and Trees
This is Dumba. I found her on the street. She lives here now. She needs a home though. Pretty cute...
A tree in Tepotz! I LOVE TEPOTZ!!!
A tree in Tepotz! I LOVE TEPOTZ!!!
5/17/10
Hurt
Life, the truth, can be bien duro. Hard. And hurtful. Inside, the type of hurt that presses against your chest so that you feel like you can´t breathe properly. The type of hurt that is just there, close to your heart, and there it lays, until it decides to fly away.
It twas this hurt that came to me today. No one hurt me, necessarily, but I felt the hurt of others. We all have two sides, Estela tells me, one positive side that we all wish to nourish and one negative that we fear. Very similar to Buddist philosophy...And we all aim to portray our positive side to others. But the negative side exists. And it can come out at any time of the day, and for this we must be careful. My grandmother, for example, as I always knew her, was one of the happiest people I had ever met, full of life and adventure. One day that all changed, however. A certain wind had hit her in which froze her soul. She had no more will to enjoy the world like she once had. And así she left the world.
It is learning how to feed our nourished sides that we must challenge ourselves to do. It may be risky, but as Estela tells me day in and day out, one gains nothing without risk. We talked for hours this afternoon, one thing after another. About values, people, stories, life changes, challenges, sickness, risk, self-esteem and how society kills it, etc. etc.
I learned that I am being pulled by someone that I have come to love very much, and must learn to stand my ground grow my roots, so that our friendship can continue but that I too can stand by her side without being pulled. So that we can support and push eachother to our limits, but without pulling one person one way or another.
It is hard for me to collect my thoughts, energies, reflections, of all we talked about, maybe some more will come later, but for now I need to at least jot some of it down.
Tears, a lot of tears today. Tears for myself, but more importantly others. Yes, its hard, and hurtful, Estela assures me, but it is important we feel it, identify it, and learn to navigate it so that a part of it does not get stuck in a mud hole.
Yes, many of us are sick, have been abandoned, and are in need of love and care. It wll be my role when the students from Pitzer arrive here to document everything, so tht what is taught, which will be a curriculum unfound in a University setting, can be passed on to others, again and again and again. I am excited and scared. I think it will be very powerful and could potentially have significant effects on others. In all of the right ways...
Estela can be agressive, tough, and strict. When she was talking to me today her eyes were like stones. I could not read into them, could not see past them. My heart felt wide open with my tears pouring out, but with her eyes sealed shut, I could only listen, intently, and learn.
It is time for me to get to know myself so that I can help othrs to know themelves and then, then, we together can begin to to wonderful things for the world, our families, friends, enemies, communities, neighbors, etc. So that one day...we can relearn how to learn.
It twas this hurt that came to me today. No one hurt me, necessarily, but I felt the hurt of others. We all have two sides, Estela tells me, one positive side that we all wish to nourish and one negative that we fear. Very similar to Buddist philosophy...And we all aim to portray our positive side to others. But the negative side exists. And it can come out at any time of the day, and for this we must be careful. My grandmother, for example, as I always knew her, was one of the happiest people I had ever met, full of life and adventure. One day that all changed, however. A certain wind had hit her in which froze her soul. She had no more will to enjoy the world like she once had. And así she left the world.
It is learning how to feed our nourished sides that we must challenge ourselves to do. It may be risky, but as Estela tells me day in and day out, one gains nothing without risk. We talked for hours this afternoon, one thing after another. About values, people, stories, life changes, challenges, sickness, risk, self-esteem and how society kills it, etc. etc.
I learned that I am being pulled by someone that I have come to love very much, and must learn to stand my ground grow my roots, so that our friendship can continue but that I too can stand by her side without being pulled. So that we can support and push eachother to our limits, but without pulling one person one way or another.
It is hard for me to collect my thoughts, energies, reflections, of all we talked about, maybe some more will come later, but for now I need to at least jot some of it down.
Tears, a lot of tears today. Tears for myself, but more importantly others. Yes, its hard, and hurtful, Estela assures me, but it is important we feel it, identify it, and learn to navigate it so that a part of it does not get stuck in a mud hole.
Yes, many of us are sick, have been abandoned, and are in need of love and care. It wll be my role when the students from Pitzer arrive here to document everything, so tht what is taught, which will be a curriculum unfound in a University setting, can be passed on to others, again and again and again. I am excited and scared. I think it will be very powerful and could potentially have significant effects on others. In all of the right ways...
Estela can be agressive, tough, and strict. When she was talking to me today her eyes were like stones. I could not read into them, could not see past them. My heart felt wide open with my tears pouring out, but with her eyes sealed shut, I could only listen, intently, and learn.
It is time for me to get to know myself so that I can help othrs to know themelves and then, then, we together can begin to to wonderful things for the world, our families, friends, enemies, communities, neighbors, etc. So that one day...we can relearn how to learn.
5/16/10
My KIDS!!!
Doing yoga....so cute!!!!!
Every Saturday, 5 - 6 pm. Typically Temezcal afterwards. Then tea and fruit with honey! Yummy...and they LOVE it!!!
Every Saturday, 5 - 6 pm. Typically Temezcal afterwards. Then tea and fruit with honey! Yummy...and they LOVE it!!!
5/12/10
A Playground
La casa de Estela...
Is a playground for the kids next door.
We make forts in the back of the truck.
The driveway is the ocean.
Jorge was the shark.
Then I was the mom.
And we were camping in the car.
We swept it out and put down a mat so that we wouldn´t have to get dirty.
La casa de Estela is a playgroud for the kids next door.
A mansion, almost.
Here we eat carrots, quesadillas, fruit, and milk.
There, bread candies.
Here they play with rocks, stones, musical instruments.
There, with their toys and the T.V.
La casa de Estela is a playground for the kids next door.
A mansion almost.
24.
24 years.
24 years old.
Is the age of their mom. Andrea is going to be nine.
Only two years older than me.
With four children.
All laughing, screaming, crying, fighting, and playing.
24 years old.
Four children.
One already nine years old.
La casa de Estela is a playground for the kids next door.
A mansion almost.
But, whether we are here, or there,
we all enjoy eachother´s company.
We talk, laugh, and play.
La casa de Estela is a playground for the kids next door.
A mansion, almost.
Is a playground for the kids next door.
We make forts in the back of the truck.
The driveway is the ocean.
Jorge was the shark.
Then I was the mom.
And we were camping in the car.
We swept it out and put down a mat so that we wouldn´t have to get dirty.
La casa de Estela is a playgroud for the kids next door.
A mansion, almost.
Here we eat carrots, quesadillas, fruit, and milk.
There, bread candies.
Here they play with rocks, stones, musical instruments.
There, with their toys and the T.V.
La casa de Estela is a playground for the kids next door.
A mansion almost.
24.
24 years.
24 years old.
Is the age of their mom. Andrea is going to be nine.
Only two years older than me.
With four children.
All laughing, screaming, crying, fighting, and playing.
24 years old.
Four children.
One already nine years old.
La casa de Estela is a playground for the kids next door.
A mansion almost.
But, whether we are here, or there,
we all enjoy eachother´s company.
We talk, laugh, and play.
La casa de Estela is a playground for the kids next door.
A mansion, almost.
5/11/10
Four. Cuatro.
I will write this blog in both English and Spanish, as both languages are now a part of my life.
Today is a special day. I have now been here for four months. My fourth moon, my fourth menstruation. And today I felt it. Felt it all. Sitting in the Temezcal with Estela and her fried Angelica, giving thanks for my presence, I suddenly became aware of myself, the temezcal, and the symbolism of our presences.
I could actually feel the four elements running through my body. The heat, the water, the air, and the earth. Sitting on the dark floor, touching the earth,feeling the heat of the rocks and the warm air circulating the small area. The cold water splashing on my face, neck, chest, and back. Again, again, and again.
The Temezcal may be a small space, but signifies so much! A space of warmth and healing that can be shared with many. Before I felt a bit disconnected because the temezcal was a practice of ancestors that are not directly my own. However, I have become to realize that we are all connected somehow, in someway, and although this pracice may not be directly connected to my persoal hertiage, it is to be shared with all. I feel so blessed to be here. Learning, feeling, seeing, doing so much.
Today the Temezcal brought back memories of my first Temezcal when I arrived. I was scared, and timid. I was scared of the cold water and not sure what to think of the heat. I now embrace the heat and cold water, as it clears, cleanses, and renews my energy, thoughts, actions, etc. I have grown a lot since I have arrived and will continue to grow from here. Gracias a todas/os.
Spanish Version...Versión Español...
Hoy es un día especial. He estado aquí por cuatro meses. Mi cuatro luna, mi cuatro menstruación. Y hoy me lo sentí. Lo sentí todo. Sentando en el Temezcal con Estela y su amiga Angelica, dando gracias por mi presencia, de repente, yo di cuenta de mi mismo, el temezca, y el simbolico de nuestas presencias.
Yo pude sentir los cuatro elementos corriendo entre mi cuerpo. El calor, el agua, el aire, y la tierra. Sentando en el piso obscuro, tocando la tierra, sentiendo el calor de las piedras y al aire tibio en el área pequeño. El agua frio salpicando en mi cara, cuello, pecho, y espalda. Otra vez, otra vez, otra vez...
Aunque el Temezcal es un pequeño espacio, significa mucho. Un espacio de calor y sañando en que puede ser compartido con mucha gente. Antes me sentí un poco desconectado porque el Temezcal era un practica de herencias en que no son mios. Sin embargo, He dando cuenta que somos conectados, y aunque este practica no es directamente mio, puede ser compartido con todo. Me siento bendijo aquí. Aprendiendo, setiendo, veindo, haciendo todo...
Hoy el Temzcal me recordí memorias cuando metí por el primer vez. Tenía miedo. Tenía miedo del agua frio y no estaba seguro sobre el calor. Ahora abrazo el calor y agua frio, porque limpian todo y renueven todo de mi energía, pensamientos, y acciones. He crecido mucho desde que llegué y continuaré a crecer de aquí. Gracias a todas/os.
Today is a special day. I have now been here for four months. My fourth moon, my fourth menstruation. And today I felt it. Felt it all. Sitting in the Temezcal with Estela and her fried Angelica, giving thanks for my presence, I suddenly became aware of myself, the temezcal, and the symbolism of our presences.
I could actually feel the four elements running through my body. The heat, the water, the air, and the earth. Sitting on the dark floor, touching the earth,feeling the heat of the rocks and the warm air circulating the small area. The cold water splashing on my face, neck, chest, and back. Again, again, and again.
The Temezcal may be a small space, but signifies so much! A space of warmth and healing that can be shared with many. Before I felt a bit disconnected because the temezcal was a practice of ancestors that are not directly my own. However, I have become to realize that we are all connected somehow, in someway, and although this pracice may not be directly connected to my persoal hertiage, it is to be shared with all. I feel so blessed to be here. Learning, feeling, seeing, doing so much.
Today the Temezcal brought back memories of my first Temezcal when I arrived. I was scared, and timid. I was scared of the cold water and not sure what to think of the heat. I now embrace the heat and cold water, as it clears, cleanses, and renews my energy, thoughts, actions, etc. I have grown a lot since I have arrived and will continue to grow from here. Gracias a todas/os.
Spanish Version...Versión Español...
Hoy es un día especial. He estado aquí por cuatro meses. Mi cuatro luna, mi cuatro menstruación. Y hoy me lo sentí. Lo sentí todo. Sentando en el Temezcal con Estela y su amiga Angelica, dando gracias por mi presencia, de repente, yo di cuenta de mi mismo, el temezca, y el simbolico de nuestas presencias.
Yo pude sentir los cuatro elementos corriendo entre mi cuerpo. El calor, el agua, el aire, y la tierra. Sentando en el piso obscuro, tocando la tierra, sentiendo el calor de las piedras y al aire tibio en el área pequeño. El agua frio salpicando en mi cara, cuello, pecho, y espalda. Otra vez, otra vez, otra vez...
Aunque el Temezcal es un pequeño espacio, significa mucho. Un espacio de calor y sañando en que puede ser compartido con mucha gente. Antes me sentí un poco desconectado porque el Temezcal era un practica de herencias en que no son mios. Sin embargo, He dando cuenta que somos conectados, y aunque este practica no es directamente mio, puede ser compartido con todo. Me siento bendijo aquí. Aprendiendo, setiendo, veindo, haciendo todo...
Hoy el Temzcal me recordí memorias cuando metí por el primer vez. Tenía miedo. Tenía miedo del agua frio y no estaba seguro sobre el calor. Ahora abrazo el calor y agua frio, porque limpian todo y renueven todo de mi energía, pensamientos, y acciones. He crecido mucho desde que llegué y continuaré a crecer de aquí. Gracias a todas/os.
5/10/10
5/8/10
Humbled
I feel elated, humbled, relaxed, in awe. A bit lost for words. What a day!
We opened up the house to the community so that they could come and enjoy food and a temezcal. It was calm at first. Two teens came, I went in the Temezcal, was lying on the grass, and Boom! The action began.
Six children came for a yoga class!
I wasn´t really sure where to begin, and it all felt a bit akward at first, but all ofthe sudden it clicked! I was shocked. The kids LOVED it, and what they loved more than anything was the mediation at the end! I told them to close their eyes for a minute, and when I finally opend my eyes a minute later, they were still super concentrated in sitting like a Budda with their eyes closed. Quieren sentar con sus ojos cerrados por otro minuto, les pregunté. Do you want to sit with you eyes closed for another minute? YES, SIIIII!!!! They answered. It was really a beautiful moment, sitting there with our eyes closed in silence. I don´t think children are often given the opportunity to sit in silence and enjoy the peace of the moment.
After yoga, all six children went into the temezcal with Estela!!! By the time they got out, they were all super relaxed, lying with Estela wrapped in their towels drinking their tea. It was a really special moment.
And initially, they were all so timid to do both yoga and enter into the temezcal. For example, when they arrived, I told them to take off their shoes. Do whhhaaat??? They looked at me quizzically. By the end of the day, however, they were all playing WITHOUT shoes.
They also weren´t too sure about going into the temezcal, but they all went in again later with Estela´s aunt!!! And then showered together outside afterwards. Pure fun. I am not sure how to explain it, but children here seem to enjoy and appreciate more than the majority of children i have encountered in the U.S. For example, after the temezcal, they all ate fruit, and were soooooo excited and appreciative. Where is my fruit??? Naomi demands. Children here are also so grown up. Andrea is nine and is practically the mom of her two younger brothers and sisters. Same with Kimberly. These girls take better care of their siblings than their own mothers. They have suffered a lot, but are very mature at the same time. Andrea was taking out a huge bag of trash this afternoon, one of the girls who came for yoga was cleaning up after all of the children´s messes...picking up towels, etc. So many peole all around...watching...Pepe not knowing a life like this exists in the house next door to his own. The sister of one of the young boys, shy, simply watching all. The old woman, Estela´s aunt, sitting in the temezcal for hours. Tomasia, working her butt off cleaning, helping Estela, making food, etc. Angelica frolicking around. Estela in every corner. Magna talking with the gay man in her see-through bra....kids running in and out. tea here, apples there, toritllas everywhere!
Love. The neighbors next door are in need and Estela gives it to them. Tomasita was shocked that Estela had welcomed so many children in and fed them, etc. Estela simply tells her, well if I don´t, who will? And these children need kindness in their lives, they need someone to take care of them, feed them, love them, play with them, etc. I admire Estela a lot for this.
Also, elders treat children like their peers. They do not tend to talk down to them. They talk to them as adults, and there seems to be a mutual respect surrounding this issue. Children respect their elders, a lot. Such a different life here. People have values, cultures, customs, and practices that very much so lack in the U.S. People have roles, and purpose. Something I have felt a lack of back home.
I could go on forever and ever. So much to see, be aware of, and learn from. And I will only continue to be immersed in more and learn more and more and more...So much to learn from children, as they watch everything and tell us exactly what they see. We need to listen to them.
We opened up the house to the community so that they could come and enjoy food and a temezcal. It was calm at first. Two teens came, I went in the Temezcal, was lying on the grass, and Boom! The action began.
Six children came for a yoga class!
I wasn´t really sure where to begin, and it all felt a bit akward at first, but all ofthe sudden it clicked! I was shocked. The kids LOVED it, and what they loved more than anything was the mediation at the end! I told them to close their eyes for a minute, and when I finally opend my eyes a minute later, they were still super concentrated in sitting like a Budda with their eyes closed. Quieren sentar con sus ojos cerrados por otro minuto, les pregunté. Do you want to sit with you eyes closed for another minute? YES, SIIIII!!!! They answered. It was really a beautiful moment, sitting there with our eyes closed in silence. I don´t think children are often given the opportunity to sit in silence and enjoy the peace of the moment.
After yoga, all six children went into the temezcal with Estela!!! By the time they got out, they were all super relaxed, lying with Estela wrapped in their towels drinking their tea. It was a really special moment.
And initially, they were all so timid to do both yoga and enter into the temezcal. For example, when they arrived, I told them to take off their shoes. Do whhhaaat??? They looked at me quizzically. By the end of the day, however, they were all playing WITHOUT shoes.
They also weren´t too sure about going into the temezcal, but they all went in again later with Estela´s aunt!!! And then showered together outside afterwards. Pure fun. I am not sure how to explain it, but children here seem to enjoy and appreciate more than the majority of children i have encountered in the U.S. For example, after the temezcal, they all ate fruit, and were soooooo excited and appreciative. Where is my fruit??? Naomi demands. Children here are also so grown up. Andrea is nine and is practically the mom of her two younger brothers and sisters. Same with Kimberly. These girls take better care of their siblings than their own mothers. They have suffered a lot, but are very mature at the same time. Andrea was taking out a huge bag of trash this afternoon, one of the girls who came for yoga was cleaning up after all of the children´s messes...picking up towels, etc. So many peole all around...watching...Pepe not knowing a life like this exists in the house next door to his own. The sister of one of the young boys, shy, simply watching all. The old woman, Estela´s aunt, sitting in the temezcal for hours. Tomasia, working her butt off cleaning, helping Estela, making food, etc. Angelica frolicking around. Estela in every corner. Magna talking with the gay man in her see-through bra....kids running in and out. tea here, apples there, toritllas everywhere!
Love. The neighbors next door are in need and Estela gives it to them. Tomasita was shocked that Estela had welcomed so many children in and fed them, etc. Estela simply tells her, well if I don´t, who will? And these children need kindness in their lives, they need someone to take care of them, feed them, love them, play with them, etc. I admire Estela a lot for this.
Also, elders treat children like their peers. They do not tend to talk down to them. They talk to them as adults, and there seems to be a mutual respect surrounding this issue. Children respect their elders, a lot. Such a different life here. People have values, cultures, customs, and practices that very much so lack in the U.S. People have roles, and purpose. Something I have felt a lack of back home.
I could go on forever and ever. So much to see, be aware of, and learn from. And I will only continue to be immersed in more and learn more and more and more...So much to learn from children, as they watch everything and tell us exactly what they see. We need to listen to them.
5/4/10
Not Sure Where to Begin...
Goodness!
So much has happened since Friday....how do I even keep you updated???
Okay, so Friday was el dia para los niños...Saturday....oh! I went to a march/protest!!! People were saying there were about 10,000 people there, but it definitely didn´t seem like it. We marched for two hours in the streets, protesting Felipe Calderon and that the people are given more/better opportunities for work.
Fun, but exhausting at the same time.
(La Marcha!)
Saturday evening I headed to Cuentepec for a wedding. The wedding of a friend of Dany. It was the youngest couple I have ever seen get married, but that´s the way it´s done in Cuentepec!
(Dany, the bride, and the bride´s twin!)
We arrived to the house already filled with about 200 people, and were sat down and handed plates of mole as well as coke´s and beers. We ate, and then the music/party began!
(Yes, the bride and groom with their faces in the cake...definitely the most cake I have ever seen in my life....there were probably about 20 in total!)
This wedding was definitely different than any wedding I have ever been to, but none the less, was a cultural learning experience. There were LOTS of games and LOTS of dancing. For one of the games, the novia (bride) put on a cowboy hat and was given a belt and the groom was given an apron, broom, and baby. Then the bride began to hit the groom with a belt, making of fun of stereotypical gender roles...
We danced until about 1 in the morning and then off to Dany´s house to bed. Well, pìctures, and then bed...
(Dany,her mama, and her sisters, minus two...)
(La familia...or at least part of it...)
Sunday I got bit by a dog, yes I am okay, and we had four lovely ladies over for the Temezcal and massages. And what do I know, but here we are at Monday again....
So much has happened since Friday....how do I even keep you updated???
Okay, so Friday was el dia para los niños...Saturday....oh! I went to a march/protest!!! People were saying there were about 10,000 people there, but it definitely didn´t seem like it. We marched for two hours in the streets, protesting Felipe Calderon and that the people are given more/better opportunities for work.
Fun, but exhausting at the same time.
(La Marcha!)
Saturday evening I headed to Cuentepec for a wedding. The wedding of a friend of Dany. It was the youngest couple I have ever seen get married, but that´s the way it´s done in Cuentepec!
(Dany, the bride, and the bride´s twin!)We arrived to the house already filled with about 200 people, and were sat down and handed plates of mole as well as coke´s and beers. We ate, and then the music/party began!
(Yes, the bride and groom with their faces in the cake...definitely the most cake I have ever seen in my life....there were probably about 20 in total!)This wedding was definitely different than any wedding I have ever been to, but none the less, was a cultural learning experience. There were LOTS of games and LOTS of dancing. For one of the games, the novia (bride) put on a cowboy hat and was given a belt and the groom was given an apron, broom, and baby. Then the bride began to hit the groom with a belt, making of fun of stereotypical gender roles...
We danced until about 1 in the morning and then off to Dany´s house to bed. Well, pìctures, and then bed...
(Dany,her mama, and her sisters, minus two...)
(La familia...or at least part of it...)Sunday I got bit by a dog, yes I am okay, and we had four lovely ladies over for the Temezcal and massages. And what do I know, but here we are at Monday again....
4/30/10
¡¡¡Día de los Niños!!!
Yes, Mexico celebrates a day for its children. As well as students. I think the day for students is March 24th...anyways, today I went to Julieta´s school to help her with her kindergarten class for their special day. We played lots of games, listened to music, and ate yummy food! Kids are just too cute.
(Some of the ninos trying to eat donuts withou their hands.)
All I do with Dany is laugh. Its gonna be tough without her back home, but I am trying not to think about this for now....Days lately have been filled with children - my students, the neighors, etc. etc. I had a four year old in my English class and she was learning just as quickly as everyone else. So sweet!
(before nap time with Dukee)
This afternoon I went around to distribute my fliers for yoga classes and then went to Estela´s mom´s house to eat green mole and tamales!!! Yummy!
Off to Cuernavaca for a march tomorrow and then a wedding in Cuentepec. Pictures to come!!!
(Some of the ninos trying to eat donuts withou their hands.)All I do with Dany is laugh. Its gonna be tough without her back home, but I am trying not to think about this for now....Days lately have been filled with children - my students, the neighors, etc. etc. I had a four year old in my English class and she was learning just as quickly as everyone else. So sweet!
(before nap time with Dukee)This afternoon I went around to distribute my fliers for yoga classes and then went to Estela´s mom´s house to eat green mole and tamales!!! Yummy!
Off to Cuernavaca for a march tomorrow and then a wedding in Cuentepec. Pictures to come!!!
4/26/10
I Heart Mexico!
Another day of pure fun. Time is going to fly and I don´t want it to!!!
I woke up at 8, did yoga, ate breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, watered the plants, did laundry, prepared for my english class, ate lunch, and whoosh - it was 1-30.
Rafael, the taxi driver picked me up and I met Julieta at the market in Emiliano Zapata. I bought cositas for Estela and headed back home. Stopped by the post office on the way and ran into four blond haired, blue eyed missionaries who were all about my age or younger. They spoke Spanish perfectly, and said their mission here was for two years. They asked me if I was interested in hearing what they had to say and I simply said, no, thanks, but thanks anyways....funny....
Anyways, I planned for a super cool English class but the students didn´t show. I think I have two plus more students though....I am going to be giving English classes 6 days a week! EEEk!!!!!
Haha, anyways, so Estela and I were hanging out talking on the couch and out of the blue she said, let´s finish the horno! Horno, or stove, as you people over there know it.
(We are going to make so much bomb bread and pizza in this thing....)
We put glass and sand on the bottom so that it heats faster, and lodo on top of the bricks. I got super dirty and now I think I can make one in the states! The neighbor came over and we went to Estela´s mom´s house for a second, then to buy a cake, and then ate cake with the neighbors!!! We played, talked, hung out, etc. I love life here!!!
(Ninos...)
(Dulce y Leslie....so sweet!)
I woke up at 8, did yoga, ate breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, watered the plants, did laundry, prepared for my english class, ate lunch, and whoosh - it was 1-30.
Rafael, the taxi driver picked me up and I met Julieta at the market in Emiliano Zapata. I bought cositas for Estela and headed back home. Stopped by the post office on the way and ran into four blond haired, blue eyed missionaries who were all about my age or younger. They spoke Spanish perfectly, and said their mission here was for two years. They asked me if I was interested in hearing what they had to say and I simply said, no, thanks, but thanks anyways....funny....
Anyways, I planned for a super cool English class but the students didn´t show. I think I have two plus more students though....I am going to be giving English classes 6 days a week! EEEk!!!!!
Haha, anyways, so Estela and I were hanging out talking on the couch and out of the blue she said, let´s finish the horno! Horno, or stove, as you people over there know it.
(We are going to make so much bomb bread and pizza in this thing....)We put glass and sand on the bottom so that it heats faster, and lodo on top of the bricks. I got super dirty and now I think I can make one in the states! The neighbor came over and we went to Estela´s mom´s house for a second, then to buy a cake, and then ate cake with the neighbors!!! We played, talked, hung out, etc. I love life here!!!
(Ninos...)
(Dulce y Leslie....so sweet!)
A Really Good Day
I woke up thinking it would be a lazy day. Wasn´t sure if we had any plans or not, and was not expecting much. Ate breakfast, cleaned the kitchen, watered the plants, layed in the hammock, cleaned up my room. Later I walked outside to find Estela sitting on the hammock and I decided to sit next to her on the ground. She started to talk aboutmy experience, time, and future here. To make an hour conversation short, she explained to me how she really wanted me to focus on myself for the next two months before the Pitzer group comes. As hard as this is for me, I am begining to see how it will benefit me. As Estela said, Jenny, you may never have a time again in your life to dedicate time like this to yourself. We talked a lot about the body, moving energy,and how in two months she would like for me to feel completely free inside. We talked about a lot of activities and exercises for me to do - sun baths with cold water, basketball, hikes, reading, the list goes on and on. It is going to be a busy two months, but I am excited to see how I feel and where I am at by the end of it all. She also expects me to perfect my Spanish. Wheeeeee!!!!!!!....All in all, she wants to make sure my energy and language do not become stagnated and will guide me to a point so that it is not.
At the end of our conversation Delia and Brad arrived with Delia and Estela´s neice Melissa, ready to take us to the posa to swim! We all crammed into the truck and were on our way! The posa was abslutely beautiful and tranquil as always. Just as we got there about 15 bikers also arrived. Melie and I jumped in the posa before the rest of the crew made their way in. We rubbed lodo, mud with clay, all over our bodies and swam around like little fishies! We had a lot of fun together. We took a nap in the sun, I burnt my back, she spent an hour trying to catch a tadpool to take home but never caught one, I took another nap in the shade....A group of drunken Mexicanos were playing guitar and singing, offering me taquilla every five minutes. I sang, BRad sang, Estela sang, we all sang! We ate snacks, fed the dogs, talked with the people, and enjoyed everyone´s company. And turns out that one of the guys singing and playing guitar writes songs for Los Tigres!!!! Crazy....
Anyways, five hours later, we headed out, refreshed by the cold water and a bit hot and bothered at the same time by sunburns and sunkisses.
On the way home we stopped by Melie´s house. It was her brother´s birthday and he had a lot of friends over. We ate cake, food, drank beer, hung out, etc. Another hour later, we were finally headed to Estla´s house, but not for long because as soon as we arrived we remembered that the neighbor´s next door were having a party and we needed to stop by! So off to the neighbor´s we went, more children, more food, more drinks!!! An hour at the party flew by, and we headed yet to another destination - Estela´s sister Ana´s house. There we spent another hour cuddling wth kittens, miniature turtls, and little children. Melie was making Ana´s children laugh, laugh, and laugh. So much fun! Nine o´clock came and went, and it was time to drop Melie back off at home, as she had school in the morning.
By the time we got back to Estela´s it was ten. We ate a snack of mangoes, cheese, and crackers, drank our tea, talked, and off to bed we went!
Whew! What a day....more to come soon!
At the end of our conversation Delia and Brad arrived with Delia and Estela´s neice Melissa, ready to take us to the posa to swim! We all crammed into the truck and were on our way! The posa was abslutely beautiful and tranquil as always. Just as we got there about 15 bikers also arrived. Melie and I jumped in the posa before the rest of the crew made their way in. We rubbed lodo, mud with clay, all over our bodies and swam around like little fishies! We had a lot of fun together. We took a nap in the sun, I burnt my back, she spent an hour trying to catch a tadpool to take home but never caught one, I took another nap in the shade....A group of drunken Mexicanos were playing guitar and singing, offering me taquilla every five minutes. I sang, BRad sang, Estela sang, we all sang! We ate snacks, fed the dogs, talked with the people, and enjoyed everyone´s company. And turns out that one of the guys singing and playing guitar writes songs for Los Tigres!!!! Crazy....
Anyways, five hours later, we headed out, refreshed by the cold water and a bit hot and bothered at the same time by sunburns and sunkisses.
On the way home we stopped by Melie´s house. It was her brother´s birthday and he had a lot of friends over. We ate cake, food, drank beer, hung out, etc. Another hour later, we were finally headed to Estla´s house, but not for long because as soon as we arrived we remembered that the neighbor´s next door were having a party and we needed to stop by! So off to the neighbor´s we went, more children, more food, more drinks!!! An hour at the party flew by, and we headed yet to another destination - Estela´s sister Ana´s house. There we spent another hour cuddling wth kittens, miniature turtls, and little children. Melie was making Ana´s children laugh, laugh, and laugh. So much fun! Nine o´clock came and went, and it was time to drop Melie back off at home, as she had school in the morning.
By the time we got back to Estela´s it was ten. We ate a snack of mangoes, cheese, and crackers, drank our tea, talked, and off to bed we went!
Whew! What a day....more to come soon!
4/24/10
Not Sure....
Tides are changing...Kyle is going back to the states. Estela is back. Bills are being passed in Arizona that make me feel sick to my stomach. I am going to be a Senior and graduate Pitzer College. I want to work with children. I want to run, hide, go on adventures. Sing, Scream. Cry. The world is full of so much and taking us in so many directions. I can´t imagine 20 years from now, let alone 100. I do not fear the future, nor do I wonder, but only hope. Hope that my children, and children´s children can grow up in beautiful community spaces and learn how to create these spaces to share with others. I am not sure how I feel right now. Sad, happy, blessed, pensive...I am one. We are all one. There are so many one´s. Not sure where my mind is taking me right now, but its flying. Running, twisting, turning. I just met someone who wants to hitch-hike to Guatemala. Maybe I can go with her!!!! We will see...
4/23/10
April 23rd. Blessed.
My baby neice was born into this world today. I feel blessed for life and blessed to have such a beautiful soul enter into this world, into my family.
All is well here. Really well. I feel good, strong, and happy. Days flying by....
Gracias a todos y todas.
All is well here. Really well. I feel good, strong, and happy. Days flying by....
Gracias a todos y todas.
4/15/10
Sounds
Not sure why I am titling this blog ´Sounds,´ but here goes...
I had the whole day to myself today. Estela is still in the states and Dany went to spend the day with her family. It was the first time in a long time, maybe even this whole trip, that I have actually had a full day to myself.
I spent the first half of the day working in the garden. What I thought would be a simple project of weeding became a huge project that entailed weeding, raking, weeding, raking, rearranging plants, cleaning up garbage, etc. etc. All I can say is that I did a lot but there is still a lot that needs to be done. Phew!
When I finally stopped, I realized I still had the afternoon ahead of me and decided to head into Cuernavaca. Went to the bank, stopped by a bookstore, walked through the Zocalo, bought un agua de coco, sat under a tree to listen to a violinist and guitarist but felt creeped out by creepy guys staring at me, and decided to walk to the other side of the Zocalo.
And low and behold, what did I find, but music! And dancing music! Not salsa, or cumbia, but similar, with a more ballroom type beat. I am not sure what you call this type of dance, but all I can say is that it was the hour of old folk. All dressed up in their best attire to dance! And dance they did! There were at least 20 couples dancing and another 30 watching....I must have sat there for about an hour with the silliest grin on my face! It was so sweet! Where in public, do we see our elderlies fully enjoying themselves and life? I totally respected their space and enjoyed my time in it.
Heading to the bus station, I was bombarded with more music! A mini orquestra up top a little cabana like structure in the middle of the zocalo! Playing classical music....What fun!
I finally made it back to the bus stop, hopped on the bus and was headed back to little Azteca.
Upon arrival I made myself the most delicious pasta with home made pasta sauce using basil and rosemary from outside. Oh, and with my homemade bread, of course....I really do need to open up some sort of cafe one day in my life, I have decided....
Enough for now. I am going to read and sleep. Spanish class tomorrow, english class, hopefully go dancing and then the weekend will have begun!!!
I had the whole day to myself today. Estela is still in the states and Dany went to spend the day with her family. It was the first time in a long time, maybe even this whole trip, that I have actually had a full day to myself.
I spent the first half of the day working in the garden. What I thought would be a simple project of weeding became a huge project that entailed weeding, raking, weeding, raking, rearranging plants, cleaning up garbage, etc. etc. All I can say is that I did a lot but there is still a lot that needs to be done. Phew!
When I finally stopped, I realized I still had the afternoon ahead of me and decided to head into Cuernavaca. Went to the bank, stopped by a bookstore, walked through the Zocalo, bought un agua de coco, sat under a tree to listen to a violinist and guitarist but felt creeped out by creepy guys staring at me, and decided to walk to the other side of the Zocalo.
And low and behold, what did I find, but music! And dancing music! Not salsa, or cumbia, but similar, with a more ballroom type beat. I am not sure what you call this type of dance, but all I can say is that it was the hour of old folk. All dressed up in their best attire to dance! And dance they did! There were at least 20 couples dancing and another 30 watching....I must have sat there for about an hour with the silliest grin on my face! It was so sweet! Where in public, do we see our elderlies fully enjoying themselves and life? I totally respected their space and enjoyed my time in it.
Heading to the bus station, I was bombarded with more music! A mini orquestra up top a little cabana like structure in the middle of the zocalo! Playing classical music....What fun!
I finally made it back to the bus stop, hopped on the bus and was headed back to little Azteca.
Upon arrival I made myself the most delicious pasta with home made pasta sauce using basil and rosemary from outside. Oh, and with my homemade bread, of course....I really do need to open up some sort of cafe one day in my life, I have decided....
Enough for now. I am going to read and sleep. Spanish class tomorrow, english class, hopefully go dancing and then the weekend will have begun!!!
4/11/10
Some things are just worth it...
I had just woken up from a deep, deep, two hour nap. I had spent the whole day in Tepotz. and was exhausted. I was groggy, sleepy, and sweaty. I walked over to Kyle´s house and Delia asked me if I wanted to go swimming. Well, of course!!! Oh, but I do not have any money, she says...can you pitch in for gas? Yes, I can, but I wish we could split it, I thought to myself...ni modo...anways, ten minutes later we were on the road and four dollas of gas later, at the same freshwater spring I went to yesterday! There was absolutely no one there, the sun was setting, and the water was perfect!
As we were leaving, Delia offered to give a ride home to one of the owner´s of the spring. Lucky for us, he acceped, and I got to see the pueblo of Emilio Zapata, famous for its haciendas! And the haciendas still exist!!! They are falling apart, but are there! In need of restoration too, I might say, but are beautiful and took me back in time a bit. Speking of back in time, this owner of the spring´s father was a general of one of the hacienda´s way back when and he, the owne, still lives in a quaint little room, or oficina, of one! The walls were litraly falling apart, but nevertheless, told a story, many stories indeed, and I have ganas, as you would say here, to return and spend lots,and I mean LOTS of time with this man. He knows a TON and has the potential to open up my reality about the history of this state! Exciting!!!
So, yes four bucks was a pain in the butt for a five minutecar ride, but relatively, and in the end, totally worth it!!!
Pictures to come soon!
As we were leaving, Delia offered to give a ride home to one of the owner´s of the spring. Lucky for us, he acceped, and I got to see the pueblo of Emilio Zapata, famous for its haciendas! And the haciendas still exist!!! They are falling apart, but are there! In need of restoration too, I might say, but are beautiful and took me back in time a bit. Speking of back in time, this owner of the spring´s father was a general of one of the hacienda´s way back when and he, the owne, still lives in a quaint little room, or oficina, of one! The walls were litraly falling apart, but nevertheless, told a story, many stories indeed, and I have ganas, as you would say here, to return and spend lots,and I mean LOTS of time with this man. He knows a TON and has the potential to open up my reality about the history of this state! Exciting!!!
So, yes four bucks was a pain in the butt for a five minutecar ride, but relatively, and in the end, totally worth it!!!
Pictures to come soon!
4/10/10
Freshwater pools and Poverty..
This morning Magda, one of Estela´s sisters, took us to a fresh spring-water pool. It was absolutely gorgeous, clean, and full of beautiful fish! I could have stayed there all day long,the spring was surrounded by big shady trees and the water was the perfect temperature! I want to be there every day! Unfortunately, it is privately owned, but lucky for me Madga and Estela know the owners!!! I didn´t have my camera with me but pictures to come...
What else....while Delia was making bread I was outside talking with David, one of Estela´s brothers. I am not sure how the conversation started, but he started talking about Dany´s family´s land. What land, I asked....People here own land collectively, he explained to me, and her family is on some of it. Her family may seem poor, he said, but they are rich. Very rich. They own land, tienen tierrra, and this, my friend, is worth more than anything...Wealth and poverty can be SO relevant...Tis in the eye of the beholder, my friend, the eye of the beholder...more to come later...
What else....while Delia was making bread I was outside talking with David, one of Estela´s brothers. I am not sure how the conversation started, but he started talking about Dany´s family´s land. What land, I asked....People here own land collectively, he explained to me, and her family is on some of it. Her family may seem poor, he said, but they are rich. Very rich. They own land, tienen tierrra, and this, my friend, is worth more than anything...Wealth and poverty can be SO relevant...Tis in the eye of the beholder, my friend, the eye of the beholder...more to come later...
4/6/10
Vecinos y Albercas...
It´s hot here....really, really hot. I set up this little pool so that the neighbors could come and enjoy it, and enjoy it they did! In the picture is Andrea, Dylan, and Jorge, all siblings, whom absolutely LOVE to come over and hang out....whether it is to swing in the hammock, eat food, or run around like maniacs outside...it´s always fun to have them around and they teach me a lot...They are such characters, if it isn´t already obvious through this picture....
Cuentepec Otra Vez...
Yes, Cuentepec otra vez indeed! Every time it is such a journey...I was there for five days this time, part of which included Semana Santa. On Friday there was a huge procession of the villagers gathered to march through the streets while a group of actors reenacted the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. See below.
The procession lasted at least three hours in the hot sun, and I had viejitos pushing me out of the way like it was there last chance simply in order to run to the front of the procession to put down colored pieces of material for the people to walk on. Throughout the whole procession I was with Dany´s mom, and she was looking out for me like a mother hawk. She always knew exactly where I was, even though there was no way for me to get lost. Talk about genuine caring...If I could define Dany´s family it would probably be just this. They are wonderful, and care not only for themselves and their family members, but for their friends, like myself as well.
I had a lot of epiphanies in Cuentepec...good and bad...The first two days I felt sad, almost sick to my stomach. I began talking with Dany´s sister´s, primarily Ana, who is 18 years old and an aspiring lawyer, about the changes that have taken place in Cuentepec over the past 15-20 years. After asking the simple question, has this community changed much over the past ten years, she didn´t even have to think a second before responding, ooooooh, YES. A lot. How come? I asked...Television is huge, she tells me, people go outside more often....just eight years ago there were still no cars here. There was only one bus that took people to and from here and even before that, people traveled to Temixco, for example, by burros! The culture and traditions are disappearing here, she reassures me....before 99% of the people here spoke Nahuatl, and now less than 50% of the people do. Ten years from now, I asked, what will Cuentepec be like? A city! She exclaimed. Many people want to come here, she continues, as it is calm, pretty and there is fresh air. People have already started to come, she reassures me....
I then began to realize that changes such as these are happening, and have happened all over the world due to forces such as globalization and industrialization, just to name a few.
After talking with Dany, Ana, and another of their sister´s Monica, about these changes I began to realize that these girls do not deny the changes, they simply have accepted them as a fact, and continue to live their lives and preserve their cultures and traditions to the best of their potentials. After telling Dany how I feel sick to my stomach when I think of these rapid changes, she simply responded, no los piensas, meaning, just don´t think about them. I got the message from here that life is simply too shot and significant to dwell upon this to a point of sickness and that we must live our lives, love our families, and move on. Well, not necessarily move on, but I think you get my gist....
Oh gosh, what else....so much to tell! We spent another day at the river, as you can see below, and had a dia de campos, a picnic! We packed tortas de huevos, egg sandwiches, and her sister and her family brought soda and chips!
(The river crew! Minus Dany, who was taking the picture. Monica, me, Angelica, Erica, Cristian, Lourdes, and her husband...)
(Angelica, Monica, y Erica)
(Below - Two adorable boys who happened to be at the river with us...)
Cuentepec is one special place...
The procession lasted at least three hours in the hot sun, and I had viejitos pushing me out of the way like it was there last chance simply in order to run to the front of the procession to put down colored pieces of material for the people to walk on. Throughout the whole procession I was with Dany´s mom, and she was looking out for me like a mother hawk. She always knew exactly where I was, even though there was no way for me to get lost. Talk about genuine caring...If I could define Dany´s family it would probably be just this. They are wonderful, and care not only for themselves and their family members, but for their friends, like myself as well.
I had a lot of epiphanies in Cuentepec...good and bad...The first two days I felt sad, almost sick to my stomach. I began talking with Dany´s sister´s, primarily Ana, who is 18 years old and an aspiring lawyer, about the changes that have taken place in Cuentepec over the past 15-20 years. After asking the simple question, has this community changed much over the past ten years, she didn´t even have to think a second before responding, ooooooh, YES. A lot. How come? I asked...Television is huge, she tells me, people go outside more often....just eight years ago there were still no cars here. There was only one bus that took people to and from here and even before that, people traveled to Temixco, for example, by burros! The culture and traditions are disappearing here, she reassures me....before 99% of the people here spoke Nahuatl, and now less than 50% of the people do. Ten years from now, I asked, what will Cuentepec be like? A city! She exclaimed. Many people want to come here, she continues, as it is calm, pretty and there is fresh air. People have already started to come, she reassures me....
I then began to realize that changes such as these are happening, and have happened all over the world due to forces such as globalization and industrialization, just to name a few.
After talking with Dany, Ana, and another of their sister´s Monica, about these changes I began to realize that these girls do not deny the changes, they simply have accepted them as a fact, and continue to live their lives and preserve their cultures and traditions to the best of their potentials. After telling Dany how I feel sick to my stomach when I think of these rapid changes, she simply responded, no los piensas, meaning, just don´t think about them. I got the message from here that life is simply too shot and significant to dwell upon this to a point of sickness and that we must live our lives, love our families, and move on. Well, not necessarily move on, but I think you get my gist....
Oh gosh, what else....so much to tell! We spent another day at the river, as you can see below, and had a dia de campos, a picnic! We packed tortas de huevos, egg sandwiches, and her sister and her family brought soda and chips!
(The river crew! Minus Dany, who was taking the picture. Monica, me, Angelica, Erica, Cristian, Lourdes, and her husband...)
(Angelica, Monica, y Erica)
(Below - Two adorable boys who happened to be at the river with us...)Cuentepec is one special place...
3/30/10
Palmitas y Pan
Sunday was Palm Sunday. I went with Dany to meet her family in Cuernavaca where they were selling Palmitas, little trinkets, dolls, baskets, etc. made out of palm frawns. Well not a palm frawn exactly, but definitely some part of the palm tree. Out of one stick of the palm frawn, as we will call it for now, I learned how to make at least six types of gadgets! (See pic. below...and yes, I can make these!)
People take them into church with them on Palm Sunday and then hang them in their houses. I could make one in the amount of time that Dany made about six. Her family had left Cuentepec at about 4'30 a.m. to arrive in Cuernavaca on time and reserve a good spot to sit outside of the Cathedral. By 11 o´clock that evening they had yet to return home. The walls outside of the entire cathedral were filled with people selling palmas, or something of the sort. People would pass by and buy them as they wished.
It was a completely humbling experience to sit on the ground with Dany, her mom, and dad to make and sell the palmas. I had never actually sat on the ground to sell anything in my life. It is quite a different perspective when you are sitting on the ground and have people walking above you. It is hard for me to pinpoint and explain exactly why this experience was so humbling, but it was. Every year Dany and her family go to the cathedral to sell palmas for Palm Sunday. Each one cost 10 pesos, which is a little less than a dollar.
To make the palmas, all one needs is one of the palm frawns, for it has many leaves which can be peeled from it and these are what are used to make a palma! It is fascinating how many different types of palmas you can make out of one stick of palm frawn. Unfortunately, I didn´t have my camera with me...
AND GUESS WHAT??????
You will never believe....so you know how I talk about the wonderful Panaderias with all of the fresh pan? Well today Dany and I made it! I am definitely writing down the recipes and taking them home....
(Here it is!)
Tomorrow temezcal and then I am off to Cuentepec for five days for Semana Santa! Wish me luck!!!
People take them into church with them on Palm Sunday and then hang them in their houses. I could make one in the amount of time that Dany made about six. Her family had left Cuentepec at about 4'30 a.m. to arrive in Cuernavaca on time and reserve a good spot to sit outside of the Cathedral. By 11 o´clock that evening they had yet to return home. The walls outside of the entire cathedral were filled with people selling palmas, or something of the sort. People would pass by and buy them as they wished.
It was a completely humbling experience to sit on the ground with Dany, her mom, and dad to make and sell the palmas. I had never actually sat on the ground to sell anything in my life. It is quite a different perspective when you are sitting on the ground and have people walking above you. It is hard for me to pinpoint and explain exactly why this experience was so humbling, but it was. Every year Dany and her family go to the cathedral to sell palmas for Palm Sunday. Each one cost 10 pesos, which is a little less than a dollar.
To make the palmas, all one needs is one of the palm frawns, for it has many leaves which can be peeled from it and these are what are used to make a palma! It is fascinating how many different types of palmas you can make out of one stick of palm frawn. Unfortunately, I didn´t have my camera with me...
AND GUESS WHAT??????
You will never believe....so you know how I talk about the wonderful Panaderias with all of the fresh pan? Well today Dany and I made it! I am definitely writing down the recipes and taking them home....
(Here it is!)Tomorrow temezcal and then I am off to Cuentepec for five days for Semana Santa! Wish me luck!!!
3/26/10
Being a Woman.....and men (not being one, but just men in general...)
I am not sure where to begin with this one, but gender has become huge for me so far on this trip. Gender is not something I have given second thought to until now and all of the sudden I feel completely effected by it every day. Although Estela was ranting about men practically every day, and the significance of being a woman, I just wasn´t really getting it. Now, however, it is starting to click. Just starting, but its taking my head all over the place! In the society I have grown up in, women are commodities, products, and men use them so. We are bought and sold in all sorts of shapes and forms. We are used and thrown around not only for our bodies and sexual appeal, but also for our motherly characteristics that most men need and find great comfort in. This does not mean, however, that as I woman, I must hide from and be ashamed of my beauty. It simply means that I must learn how to protect it. We are naturally beautiful beings and there is no reason to shy away from that, only to embrace it and protect ourselves from the lure it attracts. Women in India, for example protect their children by putting lines of thick makeup around their eyes. Create your mask before you go out onto the street, Estela always tells me. Paint your eyes to ward away that at which comes at you... And although she says it jokingly, she is dead serious. Practice your evil eye and use it when necessary. Ha! Its hard for me but I am trying...
If men do not begin to learn how to treat and act towards a woman respectfully and not treat her as a cheap product, women will begin to resent and hold huge grudges. I definitely hold resentment, distrust, and grudges that I am trying to learn how to release. I am not sure how to even begin to teach men how to think and act towards women, but I am at least for now learning how, as a woman, to protect myself from their draining (at times) energy and games.
All of these thoughts, and many more, are completely swimming around in my head, and because they are new concepts (well not new concepts, but new, gosh, I am not sure...new wake-up calls, maybe)... for me, I will share them with you bit by bit, or as you would say here, poco a poco...We will see where they take us...
If men do not begin to learn how to treat and act towards a woman respectfully and not treat her as a cheap product, women will begin to resent and hold huge grudges. I definitely hold resentment, distrust, and grudges that I am trying to learn how to release. I am not sure how to even begin to teach men how to think and act towards women, but I am at least for now learning how, as a woman, to protect myself from their draining (at times) energy and games.
All of these thoughts, and many more, are completely swimming around in my head, and because they are new concepts (well not new concepts, but new, gosh, I am not sure...new wake-up calls, maybe)... for me, I will share them with you bit by bit, or as you would say here, poco a poco...We will see where they take us...
Kyle´s Day....(Yes, an incredibly long blog BUT an important one)...
Suddenly the world around me stopped and I finally felt like I was not running anymore. It is about 8 p.m. and I have just finished eating a salad with a tortilla made from blue maiz. I realized it had been the first time in awhile that I was by myself, and it felt good to simply sit and enjoy eating fresh food. I think it is for this reason that I finally feel like writing again. I haven´t been able to sit down and reflect for weeks...like I said, for whatever reason I felt like I was running and now I have stoppped. I spent two weeks with mom and dad here in Mexico. They were here for one week in Cuernavaca and we explored the whole city and surrounding villages including Cuentepec and Tepotzlan. Then we flew off to the beach near Zihuateneo where we stayed a week in Troncones, a town flooded with rich white yuppies who think they have the right to settle down and build their million dollar beachfront homes. Well, perhaps they do have the right, but due to the fact that the local schools have no water and or resources something just does not seem right to me...So I left having decided that Troncones was not a place for me. I ate my fish, got some sun, met a beautiful boy who ended up being a complete joke, took a few yoga classes, and ya, that was that!
(me and the fam...)
I came back to Estela´s house feeling off. Being with my parents definitely took me back to the reality of the United States and obviously I am not ready for that yet. I was talking with Estela about how I need to prepare myself to go back so that I can handle not only life there, but myself in my life there. This is what I am here for in some sense, I guess...
Upon returning home, we had a celebration for Kyle. How to explain what happened, I am not sure, but I will being to try...Kyle had spent the weeks digging a hole for himself in the earth out back. It looked like a hole for a grave and he could fit his whole body in it. Upon the hour of this celebration, he made an offering consisting of flowers, beans, corn, chocolate, a lime, and a candle and entered into his hole. Face down, in a fetal position, he began to scream into the hole, not unlike what I did with Estela on the beach. Estela, Dany, and I were rattling rattles and standing around the hole in support of him while he screamed out all wanted thoughts, intentions, past events, etc. etc. Estela was screaming, I cannot hear you Kyle, scream louder! Thirteen times, three times over, Kyle took a deep breath in and screamed his heart out. Estela, Dany, and I rattled away and in the background Estela´s voice was present, Kyle, we cannot hear you, come out little boy, come out.....She smacked branches and herbs onto his back to take out even more. Throughout this whole process I began to feel like I was in a trance, a deep meditation, and by the end I was completely relaxed, feeling like a new person again. After about an hour we left Kyle to rest and later that evening he buried his hole and placed his offering on top. Upon walking up the stairs to my room to go to bed that night, I was greeted by the light from the candle burning below. It was powerful, and beautiful.
Like I said earlier, this ritual was for Kyle to release, get rid of, and throw out negative energies, thoughts, pasts, etc. The next night, however, Estela, Kyle, and I were sitting around the table drinking tea and Kyle mentioned something about being a new person, like a budding flower, or something of the sort. Whatever he said triggered Estela into on of the best lectures I have heard in a long time. Oh Kyle, she told him, you are nowhere near being a new person. This was just a tiny, tiny step, a little flick of the dust in the dirt pile. You will have to work your entire life to transform yourself....She then began to talk about how society is not only structured by class, but by groups as well. She spoke of how the two main groups are the rich and the poor, and began to speak of the subcategories of these two groups. The hierarchy, according to Estela, goes as follows.
1. Rich, White men
2. Poor White men
3. Rich men of color
4. Poor men of color
5. White women
6. Rich, or educated women of color
7. Women of color
She spoke of this complex for at least an hour. Nothing of the lecture was new to me, it has all been a part of my Pitzer education, but for me it is always empowering to be reaffirmed of it. Empowering because it reminds me of my goals and intentions in life – to work towards breaking this hierarchy, its dark, thick walls that have placed society so. I don´t think Kyle left with such a sense of empowerment. Like Estela said, it is hard to hear the truth, and the whole time Estela was talking Kyle´s face became a deep flush of red. At the end of her lecture Estela asked if Kyle had anything to say and he had nothing. He went off to bed and woke the next morning looking quite disfrazzled and out of place. However, this is the lecture that people need to hear. It is so important because not only is it the truth, but we must learn to change it. I so wish I had recorded the whole lecture, because it was simple, truthful, and beautiful. However, I left that evening realizing that part of the reason I broke down last semester and felt incapable of doing work that reaches towards breaking these barriers is that I had not worked through breaking through my shit, my barriers first. This is something the institution does not teach us to do, and for this reason I am here learning how to do just so. It is SO hard for me to focus on myself first without having a tendency to want to jump to changing the system part. But it is important, and I am learning how day by day.
So, I went to bed that evening thinking to myself, what are we doing to re-educate ourselves and how can we go about doing this? I have decided that I would like to further explore alternative and innovative methods of teaching, learning, re-learning, thinking, and healing. Before I titled this blog, Kyle´s Day, I was going to title it Power versus Strength. I will instead end on this note, because it is power that we must change and strength that we must build. Good night.
(me and the fam...)I came back to Estela´s house feeling off. Being with my parents definitely took me back to the reality of the United States and obviously I am not ready for that yet. I was talking with Estela about how I need to prepare myself to go back so that I can handle not only life there, but myself in my life there. This is what I am here for in some sense, I guess...
Upon returning home, we had a celebration for Kyle. How to explain what happened, I am not sure, but I will being to try...Kyle had spent the weeks digging a hole for himself in the earth out back. It looked like a hole for a grave and he could fit his whole body in it. Upon the hour of this celebration, he made an offering consisting of flowers, beans, corn, chocolate, a lime, and a candle and entered into his hole. Face down, in a fetal position, he began to scream into the hole, not unlike what I did with Estela on the beach. Estela, Dany, and I were rattling rattles and standing around the hole in support of him while he screamed out all wanted thoughts, intentions, past events, etc. etc. Estela was screaming, I cannot hear you Kyle, scream louder! Thirteen times, three times over, Kyle took a deep breath in and screamed his heart out. Estela, Dany, and I rattled away and in the background Estela´s voice was present, Kyle, we cannot hear you, come out little boy, come out.....She smacked branches and herbs onto his back to take out even more. Throughout this whole process I began to feel like I was in a trance, a deep meditation, and by the end I was completely relaxed, feeling like a new person again. After about an hour we left Kyle to rest and later that evening he buried his hole and placed his offering on top. Upon walking up the stairs to my room to go to bed that night, I was greeted by the light from the candle burning below. It was powerful, and beautiful.
Like I said earlier, this ritual was for Kyle to release, get rid of, and throw out negative energies, thoughts, pasts, etc. The next night, however, Estela, Kyle, and I were sitting around the table drinking tea and Kyle mentioned something about being a new person, like a budding flower, or something of the sort. Whatever he said triggered Estela into on of the best lectures I have heard in a long time. Oh Kyle, she told him, you are nowhere near being a new person. This was just a tiny, tiny step, a little flick of the dust in the dirt pile. You will have to work your entire life to transform yourself....She then began to talk about how society is not only structured by class, but by groups as well. She spoke of how the two main groups are the rich and the poor, and began to speak of the subcategories of these two groups. The hierarchy, according to Estela, goes as follows.
1. Rich, White men
2. Poor White men
3. Rich men of color
4. Poor men of color
5. White women
6. Rich, or educated women of color
7. Women of color
She spoke of this complex for at least an hour. Nothing of the lecture was new to me, it has all been a part of my Pitzer education, but for me it is always empowering to be reaffirmed of it. Empowering because it reminds me of my goals and intentions in life – to work towards breaking this hierarchy, its dark, thick walls that have placed society so. I don´t think Kyle left with such a sense of empowerment. Like Estela said, it is hard to hear the truth, and the whole time Estela was talking Kyle´s face became a deep flush of red. At the end of her lecture Estela asked if Kyle had anything to say and he had nothing. He went off to bed and woke the next morning looking quite disfrazzled and out of place. However, this is the lecture that people need to hear. It is so important because not only is it the truth, but we must learn to change it. I so wish I had recorded the whole lecture, because it was simple, truthful, and beautiful. However, I left that evening realizing that part of the reason I broke down last semester and felt incapable of doing work that reaches towards breaking these barriers is that I had not worked through breaking through my shit, my barriers first. This is something the institution does not teach us to do, and for this reason I am here learning how to do just so. It is SO hard for me to focus on myself first without having a tendency to want to jump to changing the system part. But it is important, and I am learning how day by day.
So, I went to bed that evening thinking to myself, what are we doing to re-educate ourselves and how can we go about doing this? I have decided that I would like to further explore alternative and innovative methods of teaching, learning, re-learning, thinking, and healing. Before I titled this blog, Kyle´s Day, I was going to title it Power versus Strength. I will instead end on this note, because it is power that we must change and strength that we must build. Good night.
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