As this article (click HERE) explains, the Oprah Winfrey Show is going bilingual, i.e. it will be presented in Spanish in certain television markets.
I've said it before and I'll say it again now: globalization is not only an exporting of the U.S. culture and primary language to the rest of the world; globalization is a two-way street, which necessarily means that the U.S. is changing and evolving to the influences of other cultures and languages too.
In the area of language, then, this means that Spanish will become more and more prevalent -- and eventually mainstream (coexistent with English) -- throughout the United States. There are, unfortunately, plenty of cultural conservatives and plain racists who do not want to accept this reality. But a reality it is nonetheless.
As much as I wish this evolution would take place for reasons of cultural respect and exchange, the real reason -- as we can easily see from a savvy businesswoman like Oprah -- is money. The Spanish-speaking market in the United States is growing quickly and those who are quick to adapt to these cultural and demographic changes will reap financial rewards as a result. Whatever the reasons, though, the end result will be the same: a bilingual Estados Unidos de America.
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Monday, October 20, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
English-only laws = Bad & Wrong
At work earlier today I got into a discussion with a teammate about the issue of language rights and the status of English -- and other languages, particularly Spanish -- in (North) American society. She asserted the position that immigrants should be mandated by law to learn the English language. I asserted the position that the law should never be used to codify any aspect of the dominant culture, including language, because to do so would infringe upon a person's freedom of speech, here quite literally a person's freedom of how (i.e., in what language) to speak.
The following are verbatim excerpts from my law school thesis, entitled "The Hazleton Ordinance’s English-Only Provision: An Unconstitutional Attempt to Use Language to Expel Racial Minority Immigrants." (Citations will be provided upon request).
On the myth of linguistic homogeneity:
There is a long history of linguistic diversity in the United States. In fact, the United States is not now and never has been an exclusively Anglo, English-speaking, monolingual nation. Despite this, a historical view persists – a myth of linguistic homogeneity – that allows many people to regard English as the only truly American language. The perpetuation of this popular myth is critical for the survival of the English-only movement, since this myth is the primary justification for rejecting other languages. Thus, the converse is that the demise of the English-only movement must necessarily involve, at least in part, a deconstruction of the myth of linguistic homogeneity in the United States.
On the constitutionality of English-only laws:
First, and most notably, the Constitution does not provide for an official language. Second, the U.S. Supreme Court has explicitly proclaimed that the protection of the Constitution extends to all – to those who speak other languages as well as to those born with English on the tongue.
On language and politics:
English-only laws take an ethnic trait of the dominant culture, the English language, and give that trait legal, governmental sanction, creating second-class citizenship for Americans who possess different (hence unofficial), but equally American traits. Undoubtedly, the English language is a key symbol of the ethnicity of America’s dominant core culture. English-only laws thus use the language symbol to assert and enforce the dominance of the core culture and to marginalize all other American cultures. Thus, on a symbolic level, the debate about an "official" language (and the concomitant creation of "unofficial," un-American languages) is, at its core, a debate about cultural and political dominance and power. Because politics is human relations, and language is an organic component of such relations, language is politically significant.
On language and national origin:
There is a close correlation between language and national origin, which statistics strongly reflect. A 1984 study indicates that 97 percent of persons who usually speak Spanish are of Latino origin or descent. According to the same study, approximately 77 percent of American Latinos speak Spanish. These statistics demonstrate how close a proxy language is for national origin and, thus, how close a fit language discrimination can be for discrimination because of national origin.
On language and culture:
The assertion of English-only proponents that language is a culturally neutral medium is not defensible. Language is "the quintessential cultural tool." [. . .] For many it is the only means through which members can have access to their histories and through which many of the cultural rituals can be performed.
From the paper's conclusion:
Historically, the United States – including and especially Pennsylvania – has been and continues to be linguistically diverse. The notion that the United States is or ever was linguistically homogeneous is a myth. And in over 230 years of existence, the integrity of the nation has never been threatened on account of its linguistic diversity. Legally, English-only laws unconstitutionally infringe upon First Amendment rights of members of the public to communicate with government in a known tongue. Freedom of speech protects not only the right to speak, but also the right of the public to receive information and ideas. Socio-culturally, language holds a unique place among all other cultural characteristics as it is the medium by which cultural and familial roots are transmitted and by which one’s cultural and ethnic identity is maintained.
My recommendation to the Hazleton court, after reviewing the case-law and scholarship on English-only laws:
Under a textualist analysis [of the U.S. Constitution], the First Amendment says nothing about freedom to speak English only; the freedom refers to speech, without reference to any particular language. Accordingly, this constitutional freedom is not restricted to any language; if it were, it would contradict the very idea of freedom itself.
The concluding sentence of my term paper:
The law has made the mistake in the past of providing favored status to the dominant culture – and subordinated status to a minority culture – on the basis of a socially constructed cultural trait; we must now hope that it does not make this kind of mistake again.
The following are verbatim excerpts from my law school thesis, entitled "The Hazleton Ordinance’s English-Only Provision: An Unconstitutional Attempt to Use Language to Expel Racial Minority Immigrants." (Citations will be provided upon request).
On the myth of linguistic homogeneity:
There is a long history of linguistic diversity in the United States. In fact, the United States is not now and never has been an exclusively Anglo, English-speaking, monolingual nation. Despite this, a historical view persists – a myth of linguistic homogeneity – that allows many people to regard English as the only truly American language. The perpetuation of this popular myth is critical for the survival of the English-only movement, since this myth is the primary justification for rejecting other languages. Thus, the converse is that the demise of the English-only movement must necessarily involve, at least in part, a deconstruction of the myth of linguistic homogeneity in the United States.
On the constitutionality of English-only laws:
First, and most notably, the Constitution does not provide for an official language. Second, the U.S. Supreme Court has explicitly proclaimed that the protection of the Constitution extends to all – to those who speak other languages as well as to those born with English on the tongue.
On language and politics:
English-only laws take an ethnic trait of the dominant culture, the English language, and give that trait legal, governmental sanction, creating second-class citizenship for Americans who possess different (hence unofficial), but equally American traits. Undoubtedly, the English language is a key symbol of the ethnicity of America’s dominant core culture. English-only laws thus use the language symbol to assert and enforce the dominance of the core culture and to marginalize all other American cultures. Thus, on a symbolic level, the debate about an "official" language (and the concomitant creation of "unofficial," un-American languages) is, at its core, a debate about cultural and political dominance and power. Because politics is human relations, and language is an organic component of such relations, language is politically significant.
On language and national origin:
There is a close correlation between language and national origin, which statistics strongly reflect. A 1984 study indicates that 97 percent of persons who usually speak Spanish are of Latino origin or descent. According to the same study, approximately 77 percent of American Latinos speak Spanish. These statistics demonstrate how close a proxy language is for national origin and, thus, how close a fit language discrimination can be for discrimination because of national origin.
On language and culture:
The assertion of English-only proponents that language is a culturally neutral medium is not defensible. Language is "the quintessential cultural tool." [. . .] For many it is the only means through which members can have access to their histories and through which many of the cultural rituals can be performed.
From the paper's conclusion:
Historically, the United States – including and especially Pennsylvania – has been and continues to be linguistically diverse. The notion that the United States is or ever was linguistically homogeneous is a myth. And in over 230 years of existence, the integrity of the nation has never been threatened on account of its linguistic diversity. Legally, English-only laws unconstitutionally infringe upon First Amendment rights of members of the public to communicate with government in a known tongue. Freedom of speech protects not only the right to speak, but also the right of the public to receive information and ideas. Socio-culturally, language holds a unique place among all other cultural characteristics as it is the medium by which cultural and familial roots are transmitted and by which one’s cultural and ethnic identity is maintained.
My recommendation to the Hazleton court, after reviewing the case-law and scholarship on English-only laws:
Under a textualist analysis [of the U.S. Constitution], the First Amendment says nothing about freedom to speak English only; the freedom refers to speech, without reference to any particular language. Accordingly, this constitutional freedom is not restricted to any language; if it were, it would contradict the very idea of freedom itself.
The concluding sentence of my term paper:
The law has made the mistake in the past of providing favored status to the dominant culture – and subordinated status to a minority culture – on the basis of a socially constructed cultural trait; we must now hope that it does not make this kind of mistake again.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Sahara
Sahara means desert in Arabic, so to say Sahara Desert is redundant. It's late morning on Tuesday right now, and this will be my last day in Siwa before moving on; more on this later.
Yesterday we spent the whole day out in the Sahara. For 100 Egyptian pounds (about US$20), we joined a tour out to the desert. Our ride was a 4-wheel drive GMC Scottsdale, probably early 1980s model; our company was an English man, his Greek wife, and their one and a half year old son named Rowan, along with our Norwegian friend Sven, and our driver named Hassan.
After a half-hour ride out, our first stop was at the top of a pretty tall sand dune. This was the group's first opportunity to take photos of the arid expanse, and Roland's and my first opportunity to break out the sandboard. Roland waxed it up for me and then I shimmied my barefeet into the cloth straps, while I told the group watching me to prepare for a royal wipe-out, which did in fact happen after I surfed down the dune for a pretty good distance. Roland and I took turns and even had Sven give it a try too. It was a lot of fun.
Yesterday we spent the whole day out in the Sahara. For 100 Egyptian pounds (about US$20), we joined a tour out to the desert. Our ride was a 4-wheel drive GMC Scottsdale, probably early 1980s model; our company was an English man, his Greek wife, and their one and a half year old son named Rowan, along with our Norwegian friend Sven, and our driver named Hassan.
After a half-hour ride out, our first stop was at the top of a pretty tall sand dune. This was the group's first opportunity to take photos of the arid expanse, and Roland's and my first opportunity to break out the sandboard. Roland waxed it up for me and then I shimmied my barefeet into the cloth straps, while I told the group watching me to prepare for a royal wipe-out, which did in fact happen after I surfed down the dune for a pretty good distance. Roland and I took turns and even had Sven give it a try too. It was a lot of fun.
Our next stop, after our driver entertained us by driving very fast up and down the sand dunes, was a very small oasis tucked away in a topographical depression. There was a small round pool there lined with a short stone wall, the diameter must not have been more than about 6 meters at most. After breaking down to my swimsuit, I dipped into the pool and discovered that this was a hot spring, a very hot spring in fact. It took a few minutes to acclimate to the temperature, but once achieved, the effect was absolutely relaxing. We stayed there for over an hour, just taking it easy at this unlikely refuge in the middle of the Sahara.
And this was something not lost upon me throughout the afternoon: that I was spending the day in the middle of the world's largest desert, and not very far from the Libyan border. I couldn't help thinking what everyone back stateside was doing at that very instant. I thanked God for the opportunity to be here and to be blessed with such special experiences.
We continued on not too far to a lake that we had been able to see from the little oasis. Surrounding the deep blue lake was a lot of plants very similar to those up in the Meadowlands of northern New Jersey ("let me just make this statement loud and clear, Jersey's here!"). While all the other tourists, including those from two other trucks were milling around, staring at the lake, Roland and I had broken down to our swimsuits; on the count of 3 we ran full-sprint toward the lake and dove in boldly. I kid you not when I say that the water was very cold, as implausible as it may seem being in the middle of the desert; perhaps it was the depth of the lake as well as the fact that it is still only spring, not yet summer, even here in Egypt.
The other highlights from the rest of the afternoon were visiting a field of seashells, testament to the fact that much of this land used to be underwater in prehistoric times; the driver taking us over steep sand dunes so that we felt like the car was going to tip over headlong into the sand; and a final stop atop a sand dune to watch the sun set gently into the desert.
Returning to town, not having eaten anything since around 11am -- when, after taking off our shoes to enter the restaurant, we ate bread dipped into a squash-type soup and drank hot mint tea while sitting on the floor -- we looked forward to a solid dinner. We went to the East-West restaurant, where I ate couscous with chicken and tahina with pita bread. After this I was so tired from the long day that I went to the roof of our hotel to chill out while listening to music, and then went to bed early around 10pm.
I woke up today around 7am, returned by myself to the roof to enjoy the cool morning air while I finished reading my book. Roland and I went back to East-West, where I ate falafel tamia for breakfast. I took a nice long warm shower, and now I am here.
Tonight we will try to catch a 10pm bus for Alexandria, which will take around 7 hours. From there we will then go back to Cairo. As far as today I hope to visit the Oracle and then watch the sun set at Fatnas island.
Thanks again for keeping up with my travels, and believe me when I say that you are here with me. Salaam aleikum!
And this was something not lost upon me throughout the afternoon: that I was spending the day in the middle of the world's largest desert, and not very far from the Libyan border. I couldn't help thinking what everyone back stateside was doing at that very instant. I thanked God for the opportunity to be here and to be blessed with such special experiences.
We continued on not too far to a lake that we had been able to see from the little oasis. Surrounding the deep blue lake was a lot of plants very similar to those up in the Meadowlands of northern New Jersey ("let me just make this statement loud and clear, Jersey's here!"). While all the other tourists, including those from two other trucks were milling around, staring at the lake, Roland and I had broken down to our swimsuits; on the count of 3 we ran full-sprint toward the lake and dove in boldly. I kid you not when I say that the water was very cold, as implausible as it may seem being in the middle of the desert; perhaps it was the depth of the lake as well as the fact that it is still only spring, not yet summer, even here in Egypt.
The other highlights from the rest of the afternoon were visiting a field of seashells, testament to the fact that much of this land used to be underwater in prehistoric times; the driver taking us over steep sand dunes so that we felt like the car was going to tip over headlong into the sand; and a final stop atop a sand dune to watch the sun set gently into the desert.
Returning to town, not having eaten anything since around 11am -- when, after taking off our shoes to enter the restaurant, we ate bread dipped into a squash-type soup and drank hot mint tea while sitting on the floor -- we looked forward to a solid dinner. We went to the East-West restaurant, where I ate couscous with chicken and tahina with pita bread. After this I was so tired from the long day that I went to the roof of our hotel to chill out while listening to music, and then went to bed early around 10pm.
I woke up today around 7am, returned by myself to the roof to enjoy the cool morning air while I finished reading my book. Roland and I went back to East-West, where I ate falafel tamia for breakfast. I took a nice long warm shower, and now I am here.
Tonight we will try to catch a 10pm bus for Alexandria, which will take around 7 hours. From there we will then go back to Cairo. As far as today I hope to visit the Oracle and then watch the sun set at Fatnas island.
Thanks again for keeping up with my travels, and believe me when I say that you are here with me. Salaam aleikum!
Friday, March 7, 2008
Gutentag!
Traveling somewhere without knowing the language can be frustrating. But it can also be quite comical.
This morning, after getting out of bed and getting dressed, I went downstairs to see who was around and to see if I could have a bite to eat for breakfast. I went into the kitchen to clean out the glass that I had used last night. I noticed that there was a pot of coffee brewing. After a minute, a man who I had not yet met came into the kitchen. Later I found out that he is the father of Roland's younger brother. What I did find out right away was that his English was only slightly better than my German. And so began a morning filled with lots of hand gestures, pointing, thumbs-up's, and awkward chuckling at misperceived and misunderstood jokes.
Since Roland is working until mid-afternoon, I'll have some time to go exploring. In a short while, I'll take a walk down the street to downtown Essen. So I can expect some more language-based comedy. After breakfast, though, I asked Michael (Roland's younger brother's father) if there was a German-English dictionary around the house; we found one, which I'll certainly be carrying with me on my walk soon.
So I'm feeling refreshed now. I was in bed and asleep by 10pm last night (I couldn't help thinking that it was 4pm back in tha Illadelph at that time). I woke up this morning probably somewhere around 7am, and eventually got out of bed at 8am. I'm hoping that this was enough to re-wire my Circadian rhythm and ward-off any further effects of jet lag. Based on all expectations, the trip to and throughout Egypt will require a good deal of endurance; a solid rest is the foundation for all of what is to come.
Roland and I leave Essen for the Cologne airport later this afternoon, probably around 3 or 4pm. Our flight for Cairo departs at 8:10pm and we'll arrive in Cairo at 1:25am. As I mentioned in my last post, we'll take the first bus out of the city en route to Marsa Matruh, a seaport on the Mediterranean. As such, my next post will very likely be written from Egypt.
Y para terminar este cuentecito, les envio a mis primos y a mis amigos en Costa Rica un gran saludo muy tico: PURA VIDA, MAE!!! Ustedes estan conmigo como siempre, les llevo una parte de ustedes en mi corazon con cada pasito pa'delante!
This morning, after getting out of bed and getting dressed, I went downstairs to see who was around and to see if I could have a bite to eat for breakfast. I went into the kitchen to clean out the glass that I had used last night. I noticed that there was a pot of coffee brewing. After a minute, a man who I had not yet met came into the kitchen. Later I found out that he is the father of Roland's younger brother. What I did find out right away was that his English was only slightly better than my German. And so began a morning filled with lots of hand gestures, pointing, thumbs-up's, and awkward chuckling at misperceived and misunderstood jokes.
Since Roland is working until mid-afternoon, I'll have some time to go exploring. In a short while, I'll take a walk down the street to downtown Essen. So I can expect some more language-based comedy. After breakfast, though, I asked Michael (Roland's younger brother's father) if there was a German-English dictionary around the house; we found one, which I'll certainly be carrying with me on my walk soon.
So I'm feeling refreshed now. I was in bed and asleep by 10pm last night (I couldn't help thinking that it was 4pm back in tha Illadelph at that time). I woke up this morning probably somewhere around 7am, and eventually got out of bed at 8am. I'm hoping that this was enough to re-wire my Circadian rhythm and ward-off any further effects of jet lag. Based on all expectations, the trip to and throughout Egypt will require a good deal of endurance; a solid rest is the foundation for all of what is to come.
Roland and I leave Essen for the Cologne airport later this afternoon, probably around 3 or 4pm. Our flight for Cairo departs at 8:10pm and we'll arrive in Cairo at 1:25am. As I mentioned in my last post, we'll take the first bus out of the city en route to Marsa Matruh, a seaport on the Mediterranean. As such, my next post will very likely be written from Egypt.
Y para terminar este cuentecito, les envio a mis primos y a mis amigos en Costa Rica un gran saludo muy tico: PURA VIDA, MAE!!! Ustedes estan conmigo como siempre, les llevo una parte de ustedes en mi corazon con cada pasito pa'delante!
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Willkommen in Deutschland
Five world cities in one day: Philadelphia, New York, Munich, Cologne, and Essen. It's now 7:30pm local time and I'm sitting in my friend Roland's house in Essen.
A couple interesting observations to confirm my arrival in Germany. First, while sitting at the gate in Munich airport, reading my book while awaiting my connecting flight to Cologne, I looked up casually to see a woman sitting across from me reading a newspaper. What struck my attention was the photo of a naked blonde woman right there on the front page of the newspaper. That's about the time I decided that German women are nice-looking.
The second observation to confirm my arrival in Germany came shortly afterward, when I was actually on that flight from Munich to Cologne. As the plane took-off from the runway and began its ascent, I looked out from my window seat toward the airport below. In the distance I noticed a long range of snow-capped mountains: the German Alps.
After landing in Cologne and picking-up my backpack from baggage claim, I walked out the door to exit the airport; I saw a girl standing there, so I approached her and asked if she was Roland's friend Tania. Fortunately for me she said yes. And so began my day in Cologne and my first lessons in basic, elementary German. It wasn't a problem, though, because Tania spoke English pretty well. We caught a train to Cologne central station.
As soon as one walks out of the train station, one is standing face-to-face with Cologne Cathedral (Dom). From what Tania told me, it is the highest cathedral in Germany if not in all of Europe. So of course we climbed to the very top; Tania did this, impressively, with high heels. [later I will upload photos of our climb].
As the afternoon wore on, my jet lag began to kick-in pretty hardcore. Although I closed my eyes and even slept a bit on the flight from JFK, there was no escaping the fact that I was walking the streets of Cologne at around the time I should have been just getting out of bed back at the double-deuce and Spruce. Later in the day we went to this great little coffeehouse called Starbucks so that I could try to get a caffeine boost; it didn't really work.
At 3:50 in the afternoon, Tania sent me off on the hour-long train ride from Cologne central station to Essen so that I could finally meet-up with my friend Roland. Although I knew I was risking appearing as an arrogant tourist, once I boarded the train I immediately stretched out, put my feet up on the seat before me, and quickly fell asleep. The alarm clock on my old-school digital Casio wristwatch woke me up in time to get off at the Essen train station.
And now, for the rest of the evening, I've been catching up with Roland and discussing our plans for the coming days. As soon as we reach Cairo we'll catch the first bus out of town en route to a small town near the Egyptian-Libyan border, close to the Mediterranean coast; this will be a 15-hour journey and Roland warns me that it will be very uncomfortable. From there, we'll then travel south to Siwa, an oasis in the middle of nowhere, also known as the Sahara desert; that's where we'll be camping.
Needless to say, some incredible experiences await me. I look forward to seeing the millions of stars under the clear desert sky. It will be good to feel so alive.
A couple interesting observations to confirm my arrival in Germany. First, while sitting at the gate in Munich airport, reading my book while awaiting my connecting flight to Cologne, I looked up casually to see a woman sitting across from me reading a newspaper. What struck my attention was the photo of a naked blonde woman right there on the front page of the newspaper. That's about the time I decided that German women are nice-looking.
The second observation to confirm my arrival in Germany came shortly afterward, when I was actually on that flight from Munich to Cologne. As the plane took-off from the runway and began its ascent, I looked out from my window seat toward the airport below. In the distance I noticed a long range of snow-capped mountains: the German Alps.
After landing in Cologne and picking-up my backpack from baggage claim, I walked out the door to exit the airport; I saw a girl standing there, so I approached her and asked if she was Roland's friend Tania. Fortunately for me she said yes. And so began my day in Cologne and my first lessons in basic, elementary German. It wasn't a problem, though, because Tania spoke English pretty well. We caught a train to Cologne central station.
As soon as one walks out of the train station, one is standing face-to-face with Cologne Cathedral (Dom). From what Tania told me, it is the highest cathedral in Germany if not in all of Europe. So of course we climbed to the very top; Tania did this, impressively, with high heels. [later I will upload photos of our climb].
As the afternoon wore on, my jet lag began to kick-in pretty hardcore. Although I closed my eyes and even slept a bit on the flight from JFK, there was no escaping the fact that I was walking the streets of Cologne at around the time I should have been just getting out of bed back at the double-deuce and Spruce. Later in the day we went to this great little coffeehouse called Starbucks so that I could try to get a caffeine boost; it didn't really work.
At 3:50 in the afternoon, Tania sent me off on the hour-long train ride from Cologne central station to Essen so that I could finally meet-up with my friend Roland. Although I knew I was risking appearing as an arrogant tourist, once I boarded the train I immediately stretched out, put my feet up on the seat before me, and quickly fell asleep. The alarm clock on my old-school digital Casio wristwatch woke me up in time to get off at the Essen train station.
And now, for the rest of the evening, I've been catching up with Roland and discussing our plans for the coming days. As soon as we reach Cairo we'll catch the first bus out of town en route to a small town near the Egyptian-Libyan border, close to the Mediterranean coast; this will be a 15-hour journey and Roland warns me that it will be very uncomfortable. From there, we'll then travel south to Siwa, an oasis in the middle of nowhere, also known as the Sahara desert; that's where we'll be camping.
Needless to say, some incredible experiences await me. I look forward to seeing the millions of stars under the clear desert sky. It will be good to feel so alive.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Tower of Babel
If you're reading this, then I'm guessing you speak English. If you don't, then please apprise me of your self-assessed echelon of comprehension on a decile scale, with high digits denoting -- or shall I say correlating with -- a higher level of cognizance. Muchisimas gracias!
When ya come to think of it, it's really funny how there are so many languages. And when I say "funny" I don't mean ironic, I mean hilarious. I mean, really, everyone else talks so weird, don't they! It just sounds like a bunch of gobbledy-gooky jabberwocky. Why can't the whole world speak English, and eat hamburgers, and drive SUVs, and think their culture is the best thing ever? Well, I don't know; maybe they'll reveal the answer to that question on the series finale of Lost; I sure hope so.
So I guess you noticed that it's been a lil' over four months since my last post. You must be asking yourself, where's that guy been, man I really missed him. Well, we're forward-looking here at Philly 215, so just like Don Henley ("a little voice inside my head said don't look back, you can never look back") let's never mind the past. It's all water under the bridge. And speaking of water and bridges, there will be some exciting posts to come very soon. Be sure to check back frequently and often and a lot.
For everyone who couldn't read this post, avisame pa' los proximos cuentos, por fa'. Until tomorrow, peace out y'all!
When ya come to think of it, it's really funny how there are so many languages. And when I say "funny" I don't mean ironic, I mean hilarious. I mean, really, everyone else talks so weird, don't they! It just sounds like a bunch of gobbledy-gooky jabberwocky. Why can't the whole world speak English, and eat hamburgers, and drive SUVs, and think their culture is the best thing ever? Well, I don't know; maybe they'll reveal the answer to that question on the series finale of Lost; I sure hope so.
So I guess you noticed that it's been a lil' over four months since my last post. You must be asking yourself, where's that guy been, man I really missed him. Well, we're forward-looking here at Philly 215, so just like Don Henley ("a little voice inside my head said don't look back, you can never look back") let's never mind the past. It's all water under the bridge. And speaking of water and bridges, there will be some exciting posts to come very soon. Be sure to check back frequently and often and a lot.
For everyone who couldn't read this post, avisame pa' los proximos cuentos, por fa'. Until tomorrow, peace out y'all!
Monday, October 1, 2007
Hispanic Heritage Month
Well, we're halfway through Hispanic Heritage Month (Mes de la Herencia Hispana), which is observed every year from September 15th -- the Independence Day of five Latin American countries (Costa Rica, El Salvador, Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua) -- to October 15th. (source)
The theme of this year's National Hispanic Heritage Month is Hispanic Americans: Making a Positive Impact on American Society. (source)
WHO IS A HISPANIC?
The term Hispanic, as defined by the U.S. Census Bureau, refers to Spanish-speaking people in the United States of any race. Thus, the term Hispanic is broader than any racial category. In other words, the term Hispanic is not a racial identification. There are black, red, white, and yellow Hispanics, as well as those that are brown. Also, there are Jewish, Muslim, and Protestant Hispanics, as well as those that are Catholic. (source)
On the 2000 Census form, people of Spanish/Hispanic/Latino origin could identify themselves as 1) Mexican, 2) Puerto Rican, 3) Cuban, or 4) "other Spanish/Hispanic/Latino." More than 35 million people identified themselves as Hispanic or Latino on the 2000 Census.
Many non-Hispanics jump to the conclusion that a Hispanic must necessarily fall into one of two archetypes -- Mexican or Puerto Rican -- or, if in Florida, then possibly a third -- Cuban. The numbers clarify this common prejudgment. 64% of Hispanic-origin people are of Mexican background. Another approximately 10% are of Puerto Rican background. This means that 1 out of every 4 people of Hispanic-origin are of neither Mexican nor Puerto Rican background. Continuing with the stats, Hispanics of Cuban, Salvadoran and Dominican origins account for about 3% -- each group -- of the total Hispanic population . The remainder are of some other Central American, South American or other Hispanic or Latino origins. (secondary source; primary source: AmericanFactFinder).
GROWTH OF THE U.S. HISPANIC POPULATION
42.7 million: the estimated Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2005, making people of Hispanic origin the nation’s largest ethnic or race minority. (This estimate does not include the 3.9 million residents of Puerto Rico.)
Today, the U.S. Census Bureau estimates that there are now over 44 million people of Hispanic origin in the United States. That's about 14% of us!
102.6 million: the projected Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2050. According to this projection, Hispanics will constitute 24% of the nation’s total population on that date.
OTHER RESOURCES
--> Read here the President's Proclamation on National Hispanic Heritage Month, 2007
--> Click here for a list of links to celebrate and research our Hispanic heritage
So celebrate the second half of Hispanic Heritage Month by eating Hispanic food, listening to Spanish-language music, supporting Hispanic businesses, and learning Spanish. That last point will be brought up in a later entry, when I will discuss the inevitable, already-occurring evolution of the United States as a bilingual nation. So listen up, juevon: aprenda hablar espanol ya!
The theme of this year's National Hispanic Heritage Month is Hispanic Americans: Making a Positive Impact on American Society. (source)
WHO IS A HISPANIC?
The term Hispanic, as defined by the U.S. Census Bureau, refers to Spanish-speaking people in the United States of any race. Thus, the term Hispanic is broader than any racial category. In other words, the term Hispanic is not a racial identification. There are black, red, white, and yellow Hispanics, as well as those that are brown. Also, there are Jewish, Muslim, and Protestant Hispanics, as well as those that are Catholic. (source)
On the 2000 Census form, people of Spanish/Hispanic/Latino origin could identify themselves as 1) Mexican, 2) Puerto Rican, 3) Cuban, or 4) "other Spanish/Hispanic/Latino." More than 35 million people identified themselves as Hispanic or Latino on the 2000 Census.
Many non-Hispanics jump to the conclusion that a Hispanic must necessarily fall into one of two archetypes -- Mexican or Puerto Rican -- or, if in Florida, then possibly a third -- Cuban. The numbers clarify this common prejudgment. 64% of Hispanic-origin people are of Mexican background. Another approximately 10% are of Puerto Rican background. This means that 1 out of every 4 people of Hispanic-origin are of neither Mexican nor Puerto Rican background. Continuing with the stats, Hispanics of Cuban, Salvadoran and Dominican origins account for about 3% -- each group -- of the total Hispanic population . The remainder are of some other Central American, South American or other Hispanic or Latino origins. (secondary source; primary source: AmericanFactFinder).
GROWTH OF THE U.S. HISPANIC POPULATION
42.7 million: the estimated Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2005, making people of Hispanic origin the nation’s largest ethnic or race minority. (This estimate does not include the 3.9 million residents of Puerto Rico.)
Today, the U.S. Census Bureau estimates that there are now over 44 million people of Hispanic origin in the United States. That's about 14% of us!
102.6 million: the projected Hispanic population of the United States as of July 1, 2050. According to this projection, Hispanics will constitute 24% of the nation’s total population on that date.
OTHER RESOURCES
--> Read here the President's Proclamation on National Hispanic Heritage Month, 2007
--> Click here for a list of links to celebrate and research our Hispanic heritage
So celebrate the second half of Hispanic Heritage Month by eating Hispanic food, listening to Spanish-language music, supporting Hispanic businesses, and learning Spanish. That last point will be brought up in a later entry, when I will discuss the inevitable, already-occurring evolution of the United States as a bilingual nation. So listen up, juevon: aprenda hablar espanol ya!
Monday, August 6, 2007
San Jose, Costa Rica -- morning
I'm back! And I guess I mean that in more ways than one. First of all, I'm back writing in this journal. That has a lot to do with the second way: that I'm back in Costa Rica.
I arrived here just three days ago. Today is Monday morning. I just woke up, and since no one else is awake or around, I decide to start writing.
Mita and I landed in San Jose on Friday around noontime. After going through customs and getting our bags, we met Carlos outside the airport. From there we drove to Marlen's workplace so we could all have lunch. I should also say that at that moment that we met Carlos outside the airport, I had to switch gears from English to Spanish. I've realized so far on this trip that at times I've grown tired of expending the energy necessary to speak and listen in Spanish. And unlike other trips in the past, as far as I can remember them, this time I don't feel so pressured to force myself to stay in Spanish mode. I'll either retreat into my own head to take a break or I'll just state that I'm gonna say something in English and then I'll say it. And really, with the level of English that people have here, it's usually cool. So I'll probably stick with that method, even while my Spanish naturally improves a little bit each day.
Anyway, returning to what I've done since getting here. Mita, Carlos, Marlen, and I had a nice lunch at an outdoor restaurant in the strip mall where Marlen works. After that, we drove to Tia Zahrya's house, where we saw her and Yorlen. Carlos had to leave to prepare and then go to his evening English class. So I just stayed at Tia Zahrya's house for coffee and then just chilled out for a while.
Later that night, after eating dinner, Yorlen, Said, Vicky (Yorlen's friend), and I went to a bar called Cavale. It was a really cool atmosphere because they played hip-hop and electronic music. It seems that the owner is some young-looking Swedish guy. I went out even though I felt a bit tired from the trip. But the funny thing is that once I got out, I was energized by the music, the women, and by the fact that I was finally in Costa Rica again. We went out thinking we'd be back easily by midnight. But we stayed until closing. Then, we even went to a late night food stand to get some gallo pinto with salchichon. By the time I went to bed, it was four in the morning.
The next day Tia Luisa, Tio Fabio, his wife Leticia, their little girl Alexandra, and of course Tia Zahrya and Yorlen were all hanging out by the time I woke up at noon. I took nearly an hour in the bathroom because I had to piss, shit, blow my nose, then take a nice long shower. So I finally saw everyone around one in the afternoon.
Well, I'm gonna continue writing later because Carlos is up now. So it's time to hang out.
I arrived here just three days ago. Today is Monday morning. I just woke up, and since no one else is awake or around, I decide to start writing.
Mita and I landed in San Jose on Friday around noontime. After going through customs and getting our bags, we met Carlos outside the airport. From there we drove to Marlen's workplace so we could all have lunch. I should also say that at that moment that we met Carlos outside the airport, I had to switch gears from English to Spanish. I've realized so far on this trip that at times I've grown tired of expending the energy necessary to speak and listen in Spanish. And unlike other trips in the past, as far as I can remember them, this time I don't feel so pressured to force myself to stay in Spanish mode. I'll either retreat into my own head to take a break or I'll just state that I'm gonna say something in English and then I'll say it. And really, with the level of English that people have here, it's usually cool. So I'll probably stick with that method, even while my Spanish naturally improves a little bit each day.
Anyway, returning to what I've done since getting here. Mita, Carlos, Marlen, and I had a nice lunch at an outdoor restaurant in the strip mall where Marlen works. After that, we drove to Tia Zahrya's house, where we saw her and Yorlen. Carlos had to leave to prepare and then go to his evening English class. So I just stayed at Tia Zahrya's house for coffee and then just chilled out for a while.
Later that night, after eating dinner, Yorlen, Said, Vicky (Yorlen's friend), and I went to a bar called Cavale. It was a really cool atmosphere because they played hip-hop and electronic music. It seems that the owner is some young-looking Swedish guy. I went out even though I felt a bit tired from the trip. But the funny thing is that once I got out, I was energized by the music, the women, and by the fact that I was finally in Costa Rica again. We went out thinking we'd be back easily by midnight. But we stayed until closing. Then, we even went to a late night food stand to get some gallo pinto with salchichon. By the time I went to bed, it was four in the morning.
The next day Tia Luisa, Tio Fabio, his wife Leticia, their little girl Alexandra, and of course Tia Zahrya and Yorlen were all hanging out by the time I woke up at noon. I took nearly an hour in the bathroom because I had to piss, shit, blow my nose, then take a nice long shower. So I finally saw everyone around one in the afternoon.
Well, I'm gonna continue writing later because Carlos is up now. So it's time to hang out.
Friday, July 9, 2004
Barcelona, Spain -- early morning
I'm actually writing this in the afternoon, despite the caption. Cherise and I distracted each other last night before I had the chance to write.
Now I'm sitting on a beach just ten meters from the water of the Mediterranean Sea. We arrived on a flight from Beauvais, France to Girona, Spain yesterday morning at about 10:30 a.m. We then took an hour-long bus ride to Barcelona. We began walking in the direction of the main plaza, Place de Catalunya, in order to get our bearings to find a hostel that had been propagandized to us by a Honduran woman waiting at the bus stop. Along the way, however, we found the hostel that we've ended up staying at, for 20 euros each per night.
Before getting there, we saw the Arc de Triomf, Barcelona's version of Paris' momument of the same name. After checking in to our room, we took the rest of the afternoon to explore the downtown, old section of Barcelona. We did a lot of walking, and I absolutely loved the city of Barcelona. We walked down the main street, Las Ramblas, where we saw what looked at first to be a statue of Che. But then it started moving, so I realized it was a man who bore a very striking resemblance to Che. It was crazy. After a little coercion from Cherise, I got a photo with him.
We continued walking throughout the stone streets of old Barcelona. The buildings around us were all about five stories, with balconies. Each balcony had plants or clotheslines. The streets were arranged in a random fashion, so the whole thing was a maze. It was also nice to see that the streets were so clean. Each street had various shops and cafes, and restaurants.
The climate is warm enough here that there are many palm trees. Last night, after so much walking, not only yesterday but since arriving in Europe, we decided to see a movie. It was a great relief to get off our feet and just be entertained for a couple of hours. For the same reasons, it is good to be at the beach today. But getting back to the movie, we saw the third installment of Harry Potter. The movie was broadcast in Spanish, without any subtitles. Since Cherise effectively knows no Spanish, I had to whisper to her at key moments throughout the whole movie.
After the movie, we walked around for a while looking for a decent place to eat dinner. We finally settled on a restaurant on Las Ramblas, where I ate a paella de pollo. Tonight, I'll try the more typical paella de mariscos. We ate dinner after midnight. So it isn't a surprise that we slept in this morning. When we got up, we started our long walk to eventually arrive here at Playa Bogatell. So far, I love Barcelona. I could live here if I got an opportunity, or make one.
As for Paris, which I really didn't write about due to our non-stop schedule there, it was good to see and good to visit. While there, I went to the very top of the Eiffel Tower, where I used their bathroom to take a piss. We also went to the Louvre, where we saw the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. We walked underground to see the six million bones of Les Catacombes. We saw the Notre Dame, which was so intricate in its architecture and very beautiful in appearance. We walked along the River Seine. We ate a lot of good bread and sat for hours at several sidewalk cafes. The coffee there was very strong, as a "cafe" is really a cafe espresso. We also walked along the Canal St. Martin, which was very nice too. Similarly we walked the Champs Elysses to the end, the Arc de Triomphe. Two nights, we went to the Bastille, which is a very hip area for restaurants and bars.
All in all, Paris was beautiful for its sights. But the French language was difficult, and so it frustrated me to be unable to effectively communicate. Paris also surprised me for not being very clean and for its citizens' bland style of clothing. In fact, the Metro stops reminded me of the Philadelphia subway, not so impressive.
Well, I done a lot of writing in trying to catch up. And now the sun is starting to go down. If I want to take another dip in the Mediterranean, I've got to do it now.
Now I'm sitting on a beach just ten meters from the water of the Mediterranean Sea. We arrived on a flight from Beauvais, France to Girona, Spain yesterday morning at about 10:30 a.m. We then took an hour-long bus ride to Barcelona. We began walking in the direction of the main plaza, Place de Catalunya, in order to get our bearings to find a hostel that had been propagandized to us by a Honduran woman waiting at the bus stop. Along the way, however, we found the hostel that we've ended up staying at, for 20 euros each per night.
Before getting there, we saw the Arc de Triomf, Barcelona's version of Paris' momument of the same name. After checking in to our room, we took the rest of the afternoon to explore the downtown, old section of Barcelona. We did a lot of walking, and I absolutely loved the city of Barcelona. We walked down the main street, Las Ramblas, where we saw what looked at first to be a statue of Che. But then it started moving, so I realized it was a man who bore a very striking resemblance to Che. It was crazy. After a little coercion from Cherise, I got a photo with him.
We continued walking throughout the stone streets of old Barcelona. The buildings around us were all about five stories, with balconies. Each balcony had plants or clotheslines. The streets were arranged in a random fashion, so the whole thing was a maze. It was also nice to see that the streets were so clean. Each street had various shops and cafes, and restaurants.
The climate is warm enough here that there are many palm trees. Last night, after so much walking, not only yesterday but since arriving in Europe, we decided to see a movie. It was a great relief to get off our feet and just be entertained for a couple of hours. For the same reasons, it is good to be at the beach today. But getting back to the movie, we saw the third installment of Harry Potter. The movie was broadcast in Spanish, without any subtitles. Since Cherise effectively knows no Spanish, I had to whisper to her at key moments throughout the whole movie.
After the movie, we walked around for a while looking for a decent place to eat dinner. We finally settled on a restaurant on Las Ramblas, where I ate a paella de pollo. Tonight, I'll try the more typical paella de mariscos. We ate dinner after midnight. So it isn't a surprise that we slept in this morning. When we got up, we started our long walk to eventually arrive here at Playa Bogatell. So far, I love Barcelona. I could live here if I got an opportunity, or make one.
As for Paris, which I really didn't write about due to our non-stop schedule there, it was good to see and good to visit. While there, I went to the very top of the Eiffel Tower, where I used their bathroom to take a piss. We also went to the Louvre, where we saw the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. We walked underground to see the six million bones of Les Catacombes. We saw the Notre Dame, which was so intricate in its architecture and very beautiful in appearance. We walked along the River Seine. We ate a lot of good bread and sat for hours at several sidewalk cafes. The coffee there was very strong, as a "cafe" is really a cafe espresso. We also walked along the Canal St. Martin, which was very nice too. Similarly we walked the Champs Elysses to the end, the Arc de Triomphe. Two nights, we went to the Bastille, which is a very hip area for restaurants and bars.
All in all, Paris was beautiful for its sights. But the French language was difficult, and so it frustrated me to be unable to effectively communicate. Paris also surprised me for not being very clean and for its citizens' bland style of clothing. In fact, the Metro stops reminded me of the Philadelphia subway, not so impressive.
Well, I done a lot of writing in trying to catch up. And now the sun is starting to go down. If I want to take another dip in the Mediterranean, I've got to do it now.
Tuesday, March 30, 2004
Application for Edward V. Sparer Public Interest Law Fellowship -- Brooklyn Law School
1. Why are you interested in a public interest law career?
My mission is to serve that sector of society which is most vulnerable: those people with limited economic means, who oftentimes face other challenges due to their educational background, language skills, or ethnic/racial background. Assessing my own experiences, strengths, and skills, my goal is to be an effective lawyer working in the public interest.
As a Legal Services paralegal, it has become apparent that my hands are metaphorically tied behind my back. Like a carpenter who lacks a hammer, I lack the tool necessary to fulfill my ultimate commitment: a law degree, the symbol and culmination of a quality legal education. With this tool, I will honor my commitment to help those in need, and in doing so, effect immediate positive change in the low-income community. My admission into law school is a requisite for my continued integrity to those whom I serve, as well as to my own ambitions.
2. What experiences have shaped your interest and commitment to public interest law?
From February 2001 through the present, I have worked as a paralegal in the family law unit of Philadelphia Legal Assistance. My work entails interviewing low-income clients to analyze legal matters relating to various domestic relations matters. Upon gathering all pertinent information (including reviewing pleadings and notices) and analyzing the matter, I provide direct legal advice and assistance to the client. Appropriate and eligible cases for representation are referred to our staff of family law attorneys at the conclusion of each week.
In the spring of 2001, 2002 and 2004, I volunteered to prepare income tax returns at the Philadelphia Legal Assistance/Philadelphia Volunteers for the Indigent Program Low Income Tax Clinic in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania. The clinic prepares tax returns without cost to low-income clients. My fluency in the Spanish language was utilized since most of the clinic’s clients are Spanish-speaking farmworkers.
Through these experiences (and others), I have observed the vulnerabilities of the indigent associated with - and arising from - their low-income status, including a deficient education or difficulty with the English language. These difficulties exacerbate the average litigant’s ability to access justice.
The reward I receive is the satisfaction of a victim gaining protection from her abuser, a child’s parent receiving the support necessary to raise him properly, a hard-working farmworker receiving his due income tax return which he will send to support his wife and children. The reward I receive is the practical proof that my part in our justice system is helping to create a better, more just society, one family, or even one person at a time.
3. In what area(s) of public interest law are you particularly interested?
I am primarily interested in two areas of public interest law: immigration law and labor law. This interest is a response to the changing demographics of our country, in which there is an increasing number of Latino citizens and Latin American immigrants. Practice in either area of public interest law is important in order to protect the legal rights of an under-represented population, and to serve them within a justice system which - for many - is foreign, both literally and figuratively.
My mission is to serve that sector of society which is most vulnerable: those people with limited economic means, who oftentimes face other challenges due to their educational background, language skills, or ethnic/racial background. Assessing my own experiences, strengths, and skills, my goal is to be an effective lawyer working in the public interest.
As a Legal Services paralegal, it has become apparent that my hands are metaphorically tied behind my back. Like a carpenter who lacks a hammer, I lack the tool necessary to fulfill my ultimate commitment: a law degree, the symbol and culmination of a quality legal education. With this tool, I will honor my commitment to help those in need, and in doing so, effect immediate positive change in the low-income community. My admission into law school is a requisite for my continued integrity to those whom I serve, as well as to my own ambitions.
2. What experiences have shaped your interest and commitment to public interest law?
From February 2001 through the present, I have worked as a paralegal in the family law unit of Philadelphia Legal Assistance. My work entails interviewing low-income clients to analyze legal matters relating to various domestic relations matters. Upon gathering all pertinent information (including reviewing pleadings and notices) and analyzing the matter, I provide direct legal advice and assistance to the client. Appropriate and eligible cases for representation are referred to our staff of family law attorneys at the conclusion of each week.
In the spring of 2001, 2002 and 2004, I volunteered to prepare income tax returns at the Philadelphia Legal Assistance/Philadelphia Volunteers for the Indigent Program Low Income Tax Clinic in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania. The clinic prepares tax returns without cost to low-income clients. My fluency in the Spanish language was utilized since most of the clinic’s clients are Spanish-speaking farmworkers.
Through these experiences (and others), I have observed the vulnerabilities of the indigent associated with - and arising from - their low-income status, including a deficient education or difficulty with the English language. These difficulties exacerbate the average litigant’s ability to access justice.
The reward I receive is the satisfaction of a victim gaining protection from her abuser, a child’s parent receiving the support necessary to raise him properly, a hard-working farmworker receiving his due income tax return which he will send to support his wife and children. The reward I receive is the practical proof that my part in our justice system is helping to create a better, more just society, one family, or even one person at a time.
3. In what area(s) of public interest law are you particularly interested?
I am primarily interested in two areas of public interest law: immigration law and labor law. This interest is a response to the changing demographics of our country, in which there is an increasing number of Latino citizens and Latin American immigrants. Practice in either area of public interest law is important in order to protect the legal rights of an under-represented population, and to serve them within a justice system which - for many - is foreign, both literally and figuratively.
Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania -- night
I'm listening to some Bob Marley, and I figured I'd write a little bit in my journal. I know I never followed up my last entry, but that's no surprise. It's quite typical of me.
Since that time, I"ve been seeing and talking with this girl named Cherise. I guess you would call that dating. I've really developed an attraction for her, but she's not really in a position to be in a relationship. Objectively speaking, I'm probably not either. I really need to get my ass in gear to start my applications for law school. I've already called to request applications from all the schools I think I'm going to apply to. Now its just a matter of applying myself to getting the ball rolling.
In other news, I've been taking a class in French. I've been picking it up pretty well. I think I'm one of the better students in the class, especially with regard to my accent. But I've always had a pretty good ear for languages and accents.
Last night, I finally finished reading "The Mismeasure of Man" by Stephen Jay Gould. It's the refutation to "The Bell Curve" the prime text espousing biological determinism, or scientific racism. "The Mismeasure of Man" was a bit difficult to understand at times because it was so laden with scientific lingo and logic. But, despite its sometimes difficulty, it made sense and I appreciated it. Now I'm reading "The Catcher in the Rye" which was given to me by Richard. So far, I'm cruising through it. It's much easier to read a fiction novel than to read scientific non-fiction.
Well, to move away from the superficial, I will comment on my mindset these days. I feel this stagnancy more and more in my life. I love my job, but I feel like I'm doing the same thing everyday. I'm falling way short of my potential, my abilities. And I'm feeling the pressure to do something that is more meaningful. That's why I have to get my shit together for law school. As fas as I can see right now, that's my next logical step, the step that I'm best-suited for.
But this inertia in my life is sometimes affecting my social life too. I have really enjoyed my time and feelings with Cherise, but I'm trying to check myself now, so as not to get ahead of myself. I must remain realistic. But its easy to fall into these feelings when it provides the only present challenge in my life. Also, obviously, it is very nice to spend quality time with a good woman. However, Cherise's career as a dancer is too transient to have any legitimate expectations. On my side too, if I get my shit together, I can't say with certainty where I'll be either. So for now I'm stuck. But I'll keep a good head on my shoulders and get disciplined to begin moving toward my goals.
Since that time, I"ve been seeing and talking with this girl named Cherise. I guess you would call that dating. I've really developed an attraction for her, but she's not really in a position to be in a relationship. Objectively speaking, I'm probably not either. I really need to get my ass in gear to start my applications for law school. I've already called to request applications from all the schools I think I'm going to apply to. Now its just a matter of applying myself to getting the ball rolling.
In other news, I've been taking a class in French. I've been picking it up pretty well. I think I'm one of the better students in the class, especially with regard to my accent. But I've always had a pretty good ear for languages and accents.
Last night, I finally finished reading "The Mismeasure of Man" by Stephen Jay Gould. It's the refutation to "The Bell Curve" the prime text espousing biological determinism, or scientific racism. "The Mismeasure of Man" was a bit difficult to understand at times because it was so laden with scientific lingo and logic. But, despite its sometimes difficulty, it made sense and I appreciated it. Now I'm reading "The Catcher in the Rye" which was given to me by Richard. So far, I'm cruising through it. It's much easier to read a fiction novel than to read scientific non-fiction.
Well, to move away from the superficial, I will comment on my mindset these days. I feel this stagnancy more and more in my life. I love my job, but I feel like I'm doing the same thing everyday. I'm falling way short of my potential, my abilities. And I'm feeling the pressure to do something that is more meaningful. That's why I have to get my shit together for law school. As fas as I can see right now, that's my next logical step, the step that I'm best-suited for.
But this inertia in my life is sometimes affecting my social life too. I have really enjoyed my time and feelings with Cherise, but I'm trying to check myself now, so as not to get ahead of myself. I must remain realistic. But its easy to fall into these feelings when it provides the only present challenge in my life. Also, obviously, it is very nice to spend quality time with a good woman. However, Cherise's career as a dancer is too transient to have any legitimate expectations. On my side too, if I get my shit together, I can't say with certainty where I'll be either. So for now I'm stuck. But I'll keep a good head on my shoulders and get disciplined to begin moving toward my goals.
Sunday, March 9, 2003
Granada, Nicaragua -- afternoon
Its a little bit windy as I sit here on the shore of el Lago Nicaragua. I think that the wind comes off the mountains to the east and then picks up speed as it comes across the surface of the lake. There are a number of locals swimming in the lake, but for me there is little appeal to take a dip.
My time in Granada, and Nicaragua for that matter, will end tomorrow morning when I leave for the border. I have little choice since I am left with only about 45 cordobas right now, at least 23 of which I will need to pay bus fare from Granada to Rivas and from Rivas to Penas Blancas. Unfortunately, it appears I will have to fast until I return to Costa Rica.
In many ways, it is a shame that I must leave here so soon. Granada is a beautiful city. Although it is not as big as Leon, the added features of its lakeside location, and the volcano so nearby overlooking the city, make Granada an attractive city to visit. Also, similar to Leon, its colonial architecture and lay-out make it quaint and comfortable. However, without a doubt, I prefer Leon; this is due to a few initial experiences here in Granada.
First, there seems to be little contact between tourists and locals. The locals have generally been cold to me, and the only ones really initiating contact were the guys pushing to sell marijuana and other drugs. And that is very annoying because they push so hard, that they nearly accost you or else accompany you practically into the bathroom. In a couple of words, they are very insistent. The other locals here seem a bit cold, and even resentful, to the foreigners. And I don't necessarily blame them.
To provide an example, I went with Toby to a local bar last night. My first impression was that it was very touristy, but in that negative pseudo-bohemian sort of way. I went to the bar to order a gin and tonic, then I asked a second bartender when the live music was to begin. And of course I asked in clear, fluent Spanish, as is natural since we are in Nicaragua, a Spanish-speaking country. The small-statured, pseudo-intellectual-looking brat responded in clear, fluent American English by demanding "English," meaning that he was ordering me to speak his language of English. The cultural superiority exemplified in that act sickens me. It is exactly that sort of condescending attitude that brings the United States a bad name all over the world. To a great extent, it was that cultural inflexibility that impelled Osama bin Laden to make the statement (as horrible as it was) that he did. I remained cool last night in that example, and quickly got my answer in English. That was probably the most peaceful reaction possible. But in retrospect, I almost wish I had punched that ass in the face, and told him to speak Spanish.
As a final observation on this point, Granada seems very touristy, but unfortunately in the sense of tourists who come to get high and have little interest in any sort of true, authentic, respectful intercultural/international experience. And there are many more tourists here than in Leon, making the whole spectacle a zoo of pseudo-bohemians believing that dreadlocks or long hair or beards or rags or ganja or coke or not showering for months will automatically show them or bring them to el camino real. Little do the fools realize that their attitudes and behavior are disrespectful to the culture and to the people here. So it is little, if no, surprise that the local people of Granada are now only interested in contact in the form of money changing hands . . .
Well, incidentally after writing that last sentence, a street vendor walked by with his cart and we started a conversation. He essentially said that the people of Nicaragua simply want to work, in order to eat. In response to my question, he said that Bolanos has done nothing to improve Nicaragua's economic situation. I told him the story above and told him how ashamed I am of those who bring a bad name to the United States, or tourists in general. I also said that it was important to have conversations like ours, between Nicaraguans and foreigners, to open the minds of both and to create a true intercultural exchange.
However, I realized quickly into our conversation that he had a heavy Nicaraguan accent, which tends to slur words by speaking very fast. As the conversation got deeper, it became more difficult for me to remain involved due to his accent. But I did understand a quick story he said later about how a group of bandits attacked a police officer, and did some real damage, about two years ago. He said it was a general response to police brutality, which is common here in Nicaragua.
I told him that the Nicaraguan government should promote more tourism. But I warned of a risk that I have witnessed especially here in Granada: it is not good for the Nicaraguan economy if the tourists only invest and/or spend at foreign-owned businesses. (I now feel a little bad that I'm staying at the Bearded Monkey). And as I said, here in Granada, there is little contact between tourists and locals. Leon, however, seemed much more integrated, therefore positively effecting the Leon economy.
As a final point, it probably seemd hypocritical that I didn't buy a hot dog from him. But I do need to get to the border tomorrow, and I'd rather arrive by bus than by hitchhiking.
My time in Granada, and Nicaragua for that matter, will end tomorrow morning when I leave for the border. I have little choice since I am left with only about 45 cordobas right now, at least 23 of which I will need to pay bus fare from Granada to Rivas and from Rivas to Penas Blancas. Unfortunately, it appears I will have to fast until I return to Costa Rica.
In many ways, it is a shame that I must leave here so soon. Granada is a beautiful city. Although it is not as big as Leon, the added features of its lakeside location, and the volcano so nearby overlooking the city, make Granada an attractive city to visit. Also, similar to Leon, its colonial architecture and lay-out make it quaint and comfortable. However, without a doubt, I prefer Leon; this is due to a few initial experiences here in Granada.
First, there seems to be little contact between tourists and locals. The locals have generally been cold to me, and the only ones really initiating contact were the guys pushing to sell marijuana and other drugs. And that is very annoying because they push so hard, that they nearly accost you or else accompany you practically into the bathroom. In a couple of words, they are very insistent. The other locals here seem a bit cold, and even resentful, to the foreigners. And I don't necessarily blame them.
To provide an example, I went with Toby to a local bar last night. My first impression was that it was very touristy, but in that negative pseudo-bohemian sort of way. I went to the bar to order a gin and tonic, then I asked a second bartender when the live music was to begin. And of course I asked in clear, fluent Spanish, as is natural since we are in Nicaragua, a Spanish-speaking country. The small-statured, pseudo-intellectual-looking brat responded in clear, fluent American English by demanding "English," meaning that he was ordering me to speak his language of English. The cultural superiority exemplified in that act sickens me. It is exactly that sort of condescending attitude that brings the United States a bad name all over the world. To a great extent, it was that cultural inflexibility that impelled Osama bin Laden to make the statement (as horrible as it was) that he did. I remained cool last night in that example, and quickly got my answer in English. That was probably the most peaceful reaction possible. But in retrospect, I almost wish I had punched that ass in the face, and told him to speak Spanish.
As a final observation on this point, Granada seems very touristy, but unfortunately in the sense of tourists who come to get high and have little interest in any sort of true, authentic, respectful intercultural/international experience. And there are many more tourists here than in Leon, making the whole spectacle a zoo of pseudo-bohemians believing that dreadlocks or long hair or beards or rags or ganja or coke or not showering for months will automatically show them or bring them to el camino real. Little do the fools realize that their attitudes and behavior are disrespectful to the culture and to the people here. So it is little, if no, surprise that the local people of Granada are now only interested in contact in the form of money changing hands . . .
Well, incidentally after writing that last sentence, a street vendor walked by with his cart and we started a conversation. He essentially said that the people of Nicaragua simply want to work, in order to eat. In response to my question, he said that Bolanos has done nothing to improve Nicaragua's economic situation. I told him the story above and told him how ashamed I am of those who bring a bad name to the United States, or tourists in general. I also said that it was important to have conversations like ours, between Nicaraguans and foreigners, to open the minds of both and to create a true intercultural exchange.
However, I realized quickly into our conversation that he had a heavy Nicaraguan accent, which tends to slur words by speaking very fast. As the conversation got deeper, it became more difficult for me to remain involved due to his accent. But I did understand a quick story he said later about how a group of bandits attacked a police officer, and did some real damage, about two years ago. He said it was a general response to police brutality, which is common here in Nicaragua.
I told him that the Nicaraguan government should promote more tourism. But I warned of a risk that I have witnessed especially here in Granada: it is not good for the Nicaraguan economy if the tourists only invest and/or spend at foreign-owned businesses. (I now feel a little bad that I'm staying at the Bearded Monkey). And as I said, here in Granada, there is little contact between tourists and locals. Leon, however, seemed much more integrated, therefore positively effecting the Leon economy.
As a final point, it probably seemd hypocritical that I didn't buy a hot dog from him. But I do need to get to the border tomorrow, and I'd rather arrive by bus than by hitchhiking.
Tuesday, March 4, 2003
Leon, Nicaragua -- night
I'm writing mainly to kill a few minutes. I just finished a forty-five minute conversation which I began at the bar with a man named John, from Britain. But I'm a bit tired from my miserable sleeping experience in Managua the past two nights. I'm sure today's voyage, and my upset stomach have both affected me as well.
I'm lying on my bed in the dormitory, leaning on my left elbow. Its a few minutes after 11pm. I hope to sleep well tonight and wake up early to tour the city's museums, churches, and murals. In the evening, I'll check my email again, especially after receiving today's email from Ronald. He took my advice and went to Puerto Viejo, Limon, but apparently had an accident with a machete, in which he required ten stitches. He wrote me to say that he's at a hospital in San Jose.
Anyway, Bernabe could not be contacted earlier in the afternoon, so I ended up conversing with Ana, the program coordinator for PGL. I spoke the entire time in Spanish, and when I told her that I was born in Colombia, she commented that she had noted my "accentito," as if to say my Spanish had a slight Colombian accent!
Another interesting anecdote relates to my waiting in the back seat of the "interlocal" from Managua to Leon. As is typical in Nicaragua, there was a swarm of vendors nearly accosting the passengers, trying to force them to buy gum, stickers, and other such worthless items. Well, as I was seated in the back left spot, looking out the window, there came a girl vendor at the back right window. Apparently, my tan and generally Latino appearance are coming along nicely since she yelled to catch my attention by saying, "ey, moreno!" I thought that was interesting indeed.
Anyway, there is only one other girl in here already in bed. I think I will read my book, "Dos, Uno . . . Cero Comandante" in the meantime while other bohemians arrive for their nightly repose. Until tomorrow . . .
I'm lying on my bed in the dormitory, leaning on my left elbow. Its a few minutes after 11pm. I hope to sleep well tonight and wake up early to tour the city's museums, churches, and murals. In the evening, I'll check my email again, especially after receiving today's email from Ronald. He took my advice and went to Puerto Viejo, Limon, but apparently had an accident with a machete, in which he required ten stitches. He wrote me to say that he's at a hospital in San Jose.
Anyway, Bernabe could not be contacted earlier in the afternoon, so I ended up conversing with Ana, the program coordinator for PGL. I spoke the entire time in Spanish, and when I told her that I was born in Colombia, she commented that she had noted my "accentito," as if to say my Spanish had a slight Colombian accent!
Another interesting anecdote relates to my waiting in the back seat of the "interlocal" from Managua to Leon. As is typical in Nicaragua, there was a swarm of vendors nearly accosting the passengers, trying to force them to buy gum, stickers, and other such worthless items. Well, as I was seated in the back left spot, looking out the window, there came a girl vendor at the back right window. Apparently, my tan and generally Latino appearance are coming along nicely since she yelled to catch my attention by saying, "ey, moreno!" I thought that was interesting indeed.
Anyway, there is only one other girl in here already in bed. I think I will read my book, "Dos, Uno . . . Cero Comandante" in the meantime while other bohemians arrive for their nightly repose. Until tomorrow . . .
Monday, January 20, 2003
San Jose, Costa Rica -- afternoon
Well, I haven't written back here as soon as I had expected. I'm back in San Antonio de Desamparados, San Jose, after nearly a week in Pital de San Carlos, Alajuela.
Just a few minutes ago, I got back from the grave of my maternal grandmother and of my cousin, Johanna, daughter of Tia Zahyra and sister of Yorlen. Tia Zahyra and I went there to scrape the loose paint and dirt off the grave in preparation for re-painting it tomorrow morning. While holding the scraper in my right hand and scraping vigorously, I eventually looked down to realize that blood was dripping down from my thumb. Due to my grip on the scraper, I had actually been scraping my own skin more than loose flakes of paint. I switched hands and oddly enough committed the same mistake with the left hand. So, in the end, I was left with two bloody, throbbing thumbs. As best as I could, I continued with the work, careful not to let any blood drip on to the tomb.
As I finished the scraping several minutes later, with the blood beginning to dry on my thumbs, and standing there next to the tomb, I looked up to see the two ends of a rainbow low on the horizon with the mountains serving as a backdrop. It was a sight and a scene exceptionally beautiful.
Earlier today I sent an email to Stephanie, my supervisor at Philadelphia Legal Assistance, recommending that they begin searching for someone to fill my position. I left it open that I may still return as expected, but that, at this point, I still had not reached a decision. The truth, however, is that more and more I am decided on staying in Latin America for an extended period of time. I believe I will soon make an excursion to Nicaragua; on the way back I will stop in Liberia, the capital of the province of Guanacaste, as well as visit the beaches of Guanacaste. My current, short-term plan is to leave tomorrow for Guapiles to pass some time with Abuelo; also, this Saturday there will be a party for the fiftieth birthday of Tia Sula.
Now, to give a quick update on my progress in a few different areas. First, my Spanish is slowly, but steadily improving. My improvements come largely in the area of vocabulary. However, I feel that I need greater improvements yet in the area of verbs, namely the conjugation of them. Although I'm not quite fluent by any stretch of the imagination in informal conversation of the street, I am confident in my conversational skills of the more conventional Spanish. For the most part, I can express all my basic thoughts and ideas, as well as some more complex. As much as I would love to be fluent tomorrow, I must be realistically content with my current progress.
In the area of my dancing skills, I have the basic movements of both salsa and meringue pretty much down. I need to learn how to lead the woman through spins and turns. And just as important, I've got to relax with it all so that every movement appears fluid and natural. As with the language, dance will come with extended, repeated practice. I'm thinking my time in Guapiles should present sufficient opportunities.
Lastly, in the area of reading, I now have less than 300 pages left in the book, Atlas Shrugged. As I approach the end of the book, I am more and more eager to finish it. Likewise, I am more and more looking forward to receiving my next book by personal delivery from the United States. The next book should provide me solid theory to one day put into practice.
Just a few minutes ago, I got back from the grave of my maternal grandmother and of my cousin, Johanna, daughter of Tia Zahyra and sister of Yorlen. Tia Zahyra and I went there to scrape the loose paint and dirt off the grave in preparation for re-painting it tomorrow morning. While holding the scraper in my right hand and scraping vigorously, I eventually looked down to realize that blood was dripping down from my thumb. Due to my grip on the scraper, I had actually been scraping my own skin more than loose flakes of paint. I switched hands and oddly enough committed the same mistake with the left hand. So, in the end, I was left with two bloody, throbbing thumbs. As best as I could, I continued with the work, careful not to let any blood drip on to the tomb.
As I finished the scraping several minutes later, with the blood beginning to dry on my thumbs, and standing there next to the tomb, I looked up to see the two ends of a rainbow low on the horizon with the mountains serving as a backdrop. It was a sight and a scene exceptionally beautiful.
Earlier today I sent an email to Stephanie, my supervisor at Philadelphia Legal Assistance, recommending that they begin searching for someone to fill my position. I left it open that I may still return as expected, but that, at this point, I still had not reached a decision. The truth, however, is that more and more I am decided on staying in Latin America for an extended period of time. I believe I will soon make an excursion to Nicaragua; on the way back I will stop in Liberia, the capital of the province of Guanacaste, as well as visit the beaches of Guanacaste. My current, short-term plan is to leave tomorrow for Guapiles to pass some time with Abuelo; also, this Saturday there will be a party for the fiftieth birthday of Tia Sula.
Now, to give a quick update on my progress in a few different areas. First, my Spanish is slowly, but steadily improving. My improvements come largely in the area of vocabulary. However, I feel that I need greater improvements yet in the area of verbs, namely the conjugation of them. Although I'm not quite fluent by any stretch of the imagination in informal conversation of the street, I am confident in my conversational skills of the more conventional Spanish. For the most part, I can express all my basic thoughts and ideas, as well as some more complex. As much as I would love to be fluent tomorrow, I must be realistically content with my current progress.
In the area of my dancing skills, I have the basic movements of both salsa and meringue pretty much down. I need to learn how to lead the woman through spins and turns. And just as important, I've got to relax with it all so that every movement appears fluid and natural. As with the language, dance will come with extended, repeated practice. I'm thinking my time in Guapiles should present sufficient opportunities.
Lastly, in the area of reading, I now have less than 300 pages left in the book, Atlas Shrugged. As I approach the end of the book, I am more and more eager to finish it. Likewise, I am more and more looking forward to receiving my next book by personal delivery from the United States. The next book should provide me solid theory to one day put into practice.
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