Earlier today, I caught the ferry from Puntarenas to arrive at Paquera, a town in the province of Guanacaste. The trip across the Gulf of Nicoya lasted about forty-five minutes; the sun was very strong, as was the wind, and there were only a few clouds in the sky.
Upon arriving in Paquera, I immediately hopped a bus for the forty-five minute ride south toward the tip of the Nicoya Peninsula. And so here I am in the town of Montezuma, which I have quickly discovered is really an American/European colony; I've actually been surprised to see a Tico here. Going along perfectly with the population here are the prices: everything is expensive. Considering I have been looking forward to a more proletarian and a more "tico" experience, I don't plan on staying here long. In fact, I've already asked several locals how to get to the town of Mal Pais. I've been told that I must backtrack by bus to the town of Cobano in order to catch a different bus back south to Mal Pais. And supposedly I must do this early, which may prove to be a problem since I still don't have an alarm of any kind.
Tonight's experience has been pretty shitty. Besides the heavy prices, everyone here is either honeymooners or stoners looking for weed and waves. For me, its been a while since I've even had a drink of alcohol. And this even despite three nights at Carnaval in Puntarenas, where at the end of each night there were guys passed out on the sidewalks, on the beach, and even in the middle of the street, el Paseo de los Turistas. Furthermore, at the end of each night, there was trash everywhere and the place smelled like the aftermath of a rowdy frat party.
Now to re-cap my time in Puntarenas. I slept in the same cheap hotel room on Friday night, for the same price of 2500 colones. But, upon a sudden knock on my door on Saturday late morning, I was told that the room had already been rented for that night. Considering it was the height of Carnaval, I had little choice but to leave Puntarenas. I figured my only other option was to visit the Soda Macareno, where I had befriended a porteno and two Colombians, one more time. I had promised to go there for una sopa de mariscos that Saturday afternoon.
So I saw Enrique, the Colombian from Cali, and I explained to him my situation. Luckily for me, he invited me to stay to sleep on the floor of his humble room. It certainly was humble, but that of course didn't bother me a bit. In fact, I stayed there both Saturday and Sunday (yesterday) night. Also staying there with Enrique was a Nicaraguan girl named Lili, who had lived in Puntarenas for a year but is now living in La Carpio, San Jose. I spent most of my time with her since Enrique had to work at a burger stand during Carnaval. She was very nice and she felt comfortable enough with me to ask me for advice; so my work as a type of advisor/counselor continues yet. Since I plan to continue north to Nicaragua, I asked for her address and phone number in Managua; she expects to be there by the end of the week. I told her that I hoped to be there in about two weeks, give or take.
Before leaving, I also got Enrique's email address. He plans on going to Seattle, Washington this July. I told him he is welcome in Philadelphia. A bat just flew over my head, as I sit here growing a bit tired of writing. Typing is just so much faster (and neater too, I'm sure)!
The full moon is high over my head, visible through palm leaves. And not too far in the distance (perhaps 100 meters), the tumble of the Pacific can be heard. The juxtaposition of my time in Puntarenas with the disappointment of Montezuma has slightly disillusioned me. To cure that, I must simply hit the road. With the hope that the next town will bring new adventures and even happiness.
I absolutely must recount a couple of funny stories from my time in Puntarenas, but I'll save that for my next entry. Now I'll got back to reading Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad, and then hit the sack to rest for a new day.
Monday, February 17, 2003
Thursday, February 13, 2003
Puntarenas, Costa Rica -- night
Right now, its halftime of a soccer match between Costa Rica and Guatemala; Costa Rica's up 1-0. Also right now, I'm sitting at an open-air restaurant on the beach-side of the Paseo de los Turistas.
I got here earlier this afternoon, probably at about 2:30 pm, after which time I walked around for a couple of hours bargain-shopping for a room to sleep in tonight. After a ton of walking (along with a ton of patience), I finally found a room for 2500 colones, which amounts to about 7 dollars, not too bad. However, its literally just a bed in a room, with barely enough extra floor space even for my bag. Also in the negative column is the fact that the guy who showed me the room -- a guy by the name of Albie -- seemed really sleazy. I guess that's what I should expect when searching for the cheapest room in town.
When I checked in, I tried as best as possible to pass off for a tico. I told him my name was "Tay Fallas Quiros" and then I had to give him a cedula number. Luckily I remembered that cedula numbers are made up of seven digits, the first one signifying the province of birth. I told him my cedula number was 1-581-677; first the "1" meaning I was born in San Jose, the "5" being my date of birth, the "81" being my football jersey number at Shawnee, the "6" being my historically (but not necessarily any more) favorite number, and the "77" being my year of birth. I figured it would be easy to remember, but then again I screwed it up writing just now, so maybe not.
The second half of the soccer match has now started. Man, I've gotta say there are so many beautiful women here. Trouble is I'm pretty sure almost all of them are under eighteen years of age. Guatemala just scored to tie the match at 1-1.
After checking into my room, and leaving most of my things there, I've been doing nothing but walking around to get a feeling for Puntarenas. I've easily walked at least a few kilometers, considering I've walked the length of the Paseo de los Turistas at least four times, if not more.
During the bus ride here from San Jose, I struck up a decent conversation with a girl from just outside Puntarenas. She was a marketing major at the Universidad Latina, but was actually studying some worksheets of English on the bus ride. I was kinda surprised to hear that she was studying English of her own volition on her own free time. I was also fairly impressed when she pronounced most of the words without much of an accent at all. We probably talked for at least half an hour, but I fucked up when I didn't ask for her phone number before she suddenly got off the bus. And I've paid for it tonight since I really haven't talked with anyone during my steady perambulations.
But oh well. I look forward to getting up early tomorrow to go swimming in the Pacific, as well as finishing my current book, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn; that is, if I don't finish it tonight when I get back to the room.
I just asked some guy for the time, and was really surprised to hear that it is only 9:30 pm. I thought it was nearly midnight. I'm still so surprised that I think I'm gonna double-check with someone else in a few minutes. It's really a bitch that I left my wristwatch back in the states. Even if it really is that early, its fine with me; I plan on going to bed early in order to get up early as I said. Now I'm thinking maybe I should get a bite to eat before heading back to the room. Anyway, I'm feeling tired now. Perhaps I'll write again tomorrow.
I got here earlier this afternoon, probably at about 2:30 pm, after which time I walked around for a couple of hours bargain-shopping for a room to sleep in tonight. After a ton of walking (along with a ton of patience), I finally found a room for 2500 colones, which amounts to about 7 dollars, not too bad. However, its literally just a bed in a room, with barely enough extra floor space even for my bag. Also in the negative column is the fact that the guy who showed me the room -- a guy by the name of Albie -- seemed really sleazy. I guess that's what I should expect when searching for the cheapest room in town.
When I checked in, I tried as best as possible to pass off for a tico. I told him my name was "Tay Fallas Quiros" and then I had to give him a cedula number. Luckily I remembered that cedula numbers are made up of seven digits, the first one signifying the province of birth. I told him my cedula number was 1-581-677; first the "1" meaning I was born in San Jose, the "5" being my date of birth, the "81" being my football jersey number at Shawnee, the "6" being my historically (but not necessarily any more) favorite number, and the "77" being my year of birth. I figured it would be easy to remember, but then again I screwed it up writing just now, so maybe not.
The second half of the soccer match has now started. Man, I've gotta say there are so many beautiful women here. Trouble is I'm pretty sure almost all of them are under eighteen years of age. Guatemala just scored to tie the match at 1-1.
After checking into my room, and leaving most of my things there, I've been doing nothing but walking around to get a feeling for Puntarenas. I've easily walked at least a few kilometers, considering I've walked the length of the Paseo de los Turistas at least four times, if not more.
During the bus ride here from San Jose, I struck up a decent conversation with a girl from just outside Puntarenas. She was a marketing major at the Universidad Latina, but was actually studying some worksheets of English on the bus ride. I was kinda surprised to hear that she was studying English of her own volition on her own free time. I was also fairly impressed when she pronounced most of the words without much of an accent at all. We probably talked for at least half an hour, but I fucked up when I didn't ask for her phone number before she suddenly got off the bus. And I've paid for it tonight since I really haven't talked with anyone during my steady perambulations.
But oh well. I look forward to getting up early tomorrow to go swimming in the Pacific, as well as finishing my current book, One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn; that is, if I don't finish it tonight when I get back to the room.
I just asked some guy for the time, and was really surprised to hear that it is only 9:30 pm. I thought it was nearly midnight. I'm still so surprised that I think I'm gonna double-check with someone else in a few minutes. It's really a bitch that I left my wristwatch back in the states. Even if it really is that early, its fine with me; I plan on going to bed early in order to get up early as I said. Now I'm thinking maybe I should get a bite to eat before heading back to the room. Anyway, I'm feeling tired now. Perhaps I'll write again tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 28, 2003
Guapiles, Costa Rica -- afternoon
I realize that this is my first entry outside of San Jose. Since reading my book is my only steady measure of progress, I have made the decision to remain in Guapiles until I finish the book. At this point, I have approximately 160 pages left. I hope to finish the book by Thursday night in order to travel to Pital de San Carlos on Friday morning.
I also realize that the supposed date for my return to the United States, February 7, is quickly approaching. And hence the need to make a decision as to whether I will go or not is becoming increasingly prominent.
My mother called me here at the home of Tia Sula this past Sunday night (today is Tuesday), but I wasn't here. I had gone with Carlos to the bar he is managing to translate their menu from Spanish to English. My mother will call again this Sunday to speak with me. I'm interested to see what she will say; almost undoubtedly her words and thoughts will influence my decision. As liberated as I am from a wife or girlfriend, mortgage or rental payments, I am still tied to my mother. I am very cognizant of the fact that she needs support, namely emotional support, and that I have been and am her primary source of support. My love for my mother denies me the liberty to ignore her wishes. To re-state that from another angle, however, I am fully aware that the responsibility of that choice lies completely with me; I don't proclaim to deny my own self-accountability.
As for my own thoughts, I realize that I must live a purposeful life. The purposes of my time in Costa Rica were varied. First, I intended to re-connect with family by spending valuable time. After nearly two months here, I feel confident that I have fulfilled that purpose.
Secondly, I intended to refresh my contact with a culture and a life different from that which I was living and experiencing in Philadelphia. During my time here, including presently, I have been and am sufficiently fulfilling that purpose.
Thirdly, I intended to take advantage of more free, leisure time to devote to my self-education. As I will soon have finished the 1069-page book, Atlas Shrugged, during my two months here, I have been fulfilling that purpose.
Fourth, I intended to enjoy a brief, but solid vacation from the routine of a steady job. With my several trips to each ocean, I have fulfilled that purpose.
Fifth, and perhaps most personal, I intended to provide a definite separation from the chapter of my life in which I was with Heather and subsequently my period of loss after ending the relationship. I intended to use my trip to Costa Rica as a clean break from that part of my life, to use this trip almost as a form of catharsis, so that I could begin anew. Very much connected with that separation, I intended for this trip to de-sexualize me. Partly due to the culture in the United States, but mostly due to my feeling of needing to enact new sexual experiences to perhaps 'convincing' myself of moving on from my relationship, I had been quite sexual in my desires while in Philadelphia. I predicted that this trip to a different, less-sexual culture, which naturally included a much different social life, as well as daily lifestyle, would serve to de-sexualize me. I can say with full confidence that my predictions and intentions have been fulfilled.
In some ways it is ironic that I set the date for my return to the United States at just over two months here in Costa Rica. I say this because, as I just explicated, I have sufficiently fulfilled the purposes and intentions with which I came. This necessarily leads me to re-evaluate my situation, spatially-temporally and, for lack of a better word, professionally, and decide in what direction I will go. I must now re-evaluate to determine a new set of purposes, according to those goals and desires which I value. This is the crux of my present dilemma.
My heart impels me to set off on journeys of my own. The pro's in this are maturation, self-(in)dependence, a still greater improvement in my Spanish language abilities, a wider experience of other cultures/countries/peoples. Following this path would take advantage of my largely-liberated current position in life. The potential con's are the perception of a loss of time/energy during a valuable point in my life, as well as a loss of the stable lifestyle I had been living in Philadelphia. But, as just implied in previous sentence, the con's may only be recognized if perceived as such.
Oftentimes, life is a matter of perception. For instance, the more conservative majority of society in the United States would perceive a decision to travel extensively as a waste of time and energy, as I already stated. In fact, I'm sure that a certain number of my friends and acquaintances believe this, even just for my two-month hiatus. And this opinion despite the fact that my employer is holding my position for me.
Now, to examine the option of the mind as opposed to that of the heart. I can return to my job at Philadelphia Legal Assistance on February 10. At that point, I would continue to work as a paralegal for at least another year, up to another year and a half. I would likely apply for admission to law school for fall 2004. For the next year or more, I would return to the life and lifestyle I had been living before this trip. As for a pro, this plan would provide stability and a well-laid-out course. As a con, it would signify a return to a life which would present few or no challenges, considering my past experience at the job and in that life.
Perhaps at first glance the option of the mind would seem the more rational, since it would imply little or no risk and each step would be clearly logical. It would also bring an almost certain comfort, if not luxury, in financial terms. However, the option of the heart would come with a certain degree of risk or even danger. Depending on perception, this may be a con, or as I see it, as a thrilling challenge. And it is that latter which is beautiful. I will be challenging myself.
Furthermore, the purpose of life is to live, affirm life, and produce for the constructive betterment of oneself and also society as a whole. If I embark of the option of the heart, while constantly maintaining that purpose in life, through self-education, in reading and experience, I will be affirming a rational decision. Although not necessarily accepted by society in general, I can and will maintain faith in the purpose and direction of my decision, while maintaining confidence while enacting the decision until reaching my next crossroads.
I believe, as one can most clearly see I'm sure, that my decision is all but final. The only other factor/influence to consider will be my conversation with my mother this coming Sunday. We shall see what the final result is. In the meantime, I'll continue to enjoy "pura vida"!
I also realize that the supposed date for my return to the United States, February 7, is quickly approaching. And hence the need to make a decision as to whether I will go or not is becoming increasingly prominent.
My mother called me here at the home of Tia Sula this past Sunday night (today is Tuesday), but I wasn't here. I had gone with Carlos to the bar he is managing to translate their menu from Spanish to English. My mother will call again this Sunday to speak with me. I'm interested to see what she will say; almost undoubtedly her words and thoughts will influence my decision. As liberated as I am from a wife or girlfriend, mortgage or rental payments, I am still tied to my mother. I am very cognizant of the fact that she needs support, namely emotional support, and that I have been and am her primary source of support. My love for my mother denies me the liberty to ignore her wishes. To re-state that from another angle, however, I am fully aware that the responsibility of that choice lies completely with me; I don't proclaim to deny my own self-accountability.
As for my own thoughts, I realize that I must live a purposeful life. The purposes of my time in Costa Rica were varied. First, I intended to re-connect with family by spending valuable time. After nearly two months here, I feel confident that I have fulfilled that purpose.
Secondly, I intended to refresh my contact with a culture and a life different from that which I was living and experiencing in Philadelphia. During my time here, including presently, I have been and am sufficiently fulfilling that purpose.
Thirdly, I intended to take advantage of more free, leisure time to devote to my self-education. As I will soon have finished the 1069-page book, Atlas Shrugged, during my two months here, I have been fulfilling that purpose.
Fourth, I intended to enjoy a brief, but solid vacation from the routine of a steady job. With my several trips to each ocean, I have fulfilled that purpose.
Fifth, and perhaps most personal, I intended to provide a definite separation from the chapter of my life in which I was with Heather and subsequently my period of loss after ending the relationship. I intended to use my trip to Costa Rica as a clean break from that part of my life, to use this trip almost as a form of catharsis, so that I could begin anew. Very much connected with that separation, I intended for this trip to de-sexualize me. Partly due to the culture in the United States, but mostly due to my feeling of needing to enact new sexual experiences to perhaps 'convincing' myself of moving on from my relationship, I had been quite sexual in my desires while in Philadelphia. I predicted that this trip to a different, less-sexual culture, which naturally included a much different social life, as well as daily lifestyle, would serve to de-sexualize me. I can say with full confidence that my predictions and intentions have been fulfilled.
In some ways it is ironic that I set the date for my return to the United States at just over two months here in Costa Rica. I say this because, as I just explicated, I have sufficiently fulfilled the purposes and intentions with which I came. This necessarily leads me to re-evaluate my situation, spatially-temporally and, for lack of a better word, professionally, and decide in what direction I will go. I must now re-evaluate to determine a new set of purposes, according to those goals and desires which I value. This is the crux of my present dilemma.
My heart impels me to set off on journeys of my own. The pro's in this are maturation, self-(in)dependence, a still greater improvement in my Spanish language abilities, a wider experience of other cultures/countries/peoples. Following this path would take advantage of my largely-liberated current position in life. The potential con's are the perception of a loss of time/energy during a valuable point in my life, as well as a loss of the stable lifestyle I had been living in Philadelphia. But, as just implied in previous sentence, the con's may only be recognized if perceived as such.
Oftentimes, life is a matter of perception. For instance, the more conservative majority of society in the United States would perceive a decision to travel extensively as a waste of time and energy, as I already stated. In fact, I'm sure that a certain number of my friends and acquaintances believe this, even just for my two-month hiatus. And this opinion despite the fact that my employer is holding my position for me.
Now, to examine the option of the mind as opposed to that of the heart. I can return to my job at Philadelphia Legal Assistance on February 10. At that point, I would continue to work as a paralegal for at least another year, up to another year and a half. I would likely apply for admission to law school for fall 2004. For the next year or more, I would return to the life and lifestyle I had been living before this trip. As for a pro, this plan would provide stability and a well-laid-out course. As a con, it would signify a return to a life which would present few or no challenges, considering my past experience at the job and in that life.
Perhaps at first glance the option of the mind would seem the more rational, since it would imply little or no risk and each step would be clearly logical. It would also bring an almost certain comfort, if not luxury, in financial terms. However, the option of the heart would come with a certain degree of risk or even danger. Depending on perception, this may be a con, or as I see it, as a thrilling challenge. And it is that latter which is beautiful. I will be challenging myself.
Furthermore, the purpose of life is to live, affirm life, and produce for the constructive betterment of oneself and also society as a whole. If I embark of the option of the heart, while constantly maintaining that purpose in life, through self-education, in reading and experience, I will be affirming a rational decision. Although not necessarily accepted by society in general, I can and will maintain faith in the purpose and direction of my decision, while maintaining confidence while enacting the decision until reaching my next crossroads.
I believe, as one can most clearly see I'm sure, that my decision is all but final. The only other factor/influence to consider will be my conversation with my mother this coming Sunday. We shall see what the final result is. In the meantime, I'll continue to enjoy "pura vida"!
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.
Tuesday, January 7, 2003
San Jose, Costa Rica -- night
All my previous entries had been written in the home of my cousins, Carlos and Marlen, located in Moravia, a suburb of San Jose, the capital city. As I write this I am sitting in the living room of my Tia Zahyra and her daughter my cousin, Yorlen. They live in San Francisco, another suburb of San Jose.
Today was a somewhat productive/constructive day. In the morning, after breakfast, I spent an hour and a half in an internet cafe, one hour of which I needed to write an email to my father. I hadn't communicated with him in any way since my conversation with him from Paul's cell phone from an Italian restaurant right by Times Square on the night of December 2, 2002. Hence, I typed for one hour non-stop to relay my activities and to express my thoughts. After that, I killed another half-hour by checking some music and football websites.
Later, after lunch, I took a solo trip by bus to San Jose, centro, to visit the Museo del Oro. Since there is a difference in payment depending on whether one is a national or a foreigner, I played it off as if I was a national by immediately offering the 1000 colones entrance fee for nationals. As the girl in the ticket windown handed me my ticket, she asked whether I was a national. Truthful as always, I told her that I was half-Tico, half-Gringo, explaining that my mother was a Tica by birth from Guapiles. The girl told me to go ahead in, but I might have to pay the difference in case someone else found out. I thanked her and knew I was in.
I spent the next two and a half hours reading every sign and poster in the whole museum. I learned that the largest tropical rain forest in Costa Rica is the Corcovado, located in the southwest. It is also in this same region that much metallurgy in gold took place. The indigenous people of the region derived artisan and artistic influences from the region of northwest Colombia by way of the Isthmus of Panama. Similar to the Museum of Jade, the artifacts were mostly zooanthropomorphic, using especially the figures of alligators, jaguars, and birds as symbols of power and authority. I learned that the shamans were not only spiritual leaders, but by virtue of their spiritual wisdom, they were also the political leaders as well. Pre-Columbian society was largely agricultural and trade did exist among various tribes. The most advanced settlements were in the Southwest region already mentioned.
After the conquest and in more recent history, I learned that banana was the dominant product and international export from the 1820s until the 1970s. Prior to this time, coffee and sugar cane had been the primary exports. Nevertheless, coffee remained an important export.
Based on the brief knowledge I gained, it seems that a primary factor in Costa Rica not having a strong socialist movement in the 1960s and 1970s was due largely (and strangely enough) to its two-crop export economy. Throughout those decades, and in the decades prior, the revenue from exportation of coffee and banana was steady and stable. However, a drop in the international market for coffee in the 1970s, coupled with the 1979 international oil crisis, dramatically impacted the Costa Rican economy in a negative manner. The 1980s were a decade of high inflation, but the international atmosphere for socialist movements was already past. Focusing specifically on the Costa Rican economy, it only began to rebound significantly in the 1990s when tourism, specifically eco-tourism, replaced agricultural exports as the nation's primary source of revenue. Connected with that last point, the centimo disappeared in the latter years of high inflation, leaving the colon as the only form of currency. Currently the exchange rate is 377 colones to 1 North-American dollar.
Now, to re-cap my days from January 3rd to January 5th. I spent that time in Puerto Viejo, a town in the province of Limon. My cousin Yorlen accompanied me, or perhaps I accompanied her, I'm not quite sure which. Either way, it was a good experience. I was happy to have some one-on-one time with someone so that my slower Spanish was not deflected from the conversation. That is, she had no choice but to speak to me, and on the flip-side, I was forced to engage in conversation with her. It was a necessary challenge, and I can say that I feel more confident with my Spanish after those three days. I am very grateful for that time and I am happy to have gotten to know Yorlen much better. I am sure she has no idea how grateful I am to her.
Well, on to a description of Puerto Viejo. First of all, it is very caribeno. Most of the local population is of African descent. I ate several dishes of "rice and beans," which is exactly what it says, only it is cooked with coconut milk. It was absolutely delicious.
Our first night, Friday, we went to a pizzeria, where we nearly finished a large pizza along with splitting a container of one liter of red wine. Afterwards, we went to a beachfront club called "Bambu" which was packed to the rim with people dancing to reggae roots music. It was a cool scene. And definitely a lot of second-hand cheeba smoke.
On both Friday and Saturday days, I went into the Atlantic Ocean, which was quite energetic. Once on Saturday, a wave took me and slammed my ass onto the floor of the ocean. I guess nature put me in my place. I had fun though.
Saturday night was top-notch, though. Yorlen and I brought a bottle of red Chilean wine to sit on the beach under the starlight and facing the incessant waves of the Caribbean. As we drank the bottle of wine, we shared a habano. The whole mood and the whole atmosphere was just so pristine, so tranquil. It was the kind of night where the beauty of life was so palpable that one could not help feeling both happy and thankful.
The next day, Sunday, we walked along the beach and then sat for a while on a log, where I actually fell asleep for a short while. Before that, though, I should mention that we went to a butterfly garden. However, it was not that impressive so it is not worth any further explication. After our repose on the beach, we checked out of our room to catch the bus back to San Jose. It was a wonderful weekend.
And so now, here I am. Tomorrow I plan on visiting the campus of the Universidad de Costa Rica (U.C.R.) with my cousin Andrea. I think I will speak with the director of international relations. More simply, though, I just want to see the campus. I'll be sure to write again soon.
Today was a somewhat productive/constructive day. In the morning, after breakfast, I spent an hour and a half in an internet cafe, one hour of which I needed to write an email to my father. I hadn't communicated with him in any way since my conversation with him from Paul's cell phone from an Italian restaurant right by Times Square on the night of December 2, 2002. Hence, I typed for one hour non-stop to relay my activities and to express my thoughts. After that, I killed another half-hour by checking some music and football websites.
Later, after lunch, I took a solo trip by bus to San Jose, centro, to visit the Museo del Oro. Since there is a difference in payment depending on whether one is a national or a foreigner, I played it off as if I was a national by immediately offering the 1000 colones entrance fee for nationals. As the girl in the ticket windown handed me my ticket, she asked whether I was a national. Truthful as always, I told her that I was half-Tico, half-Gringo, explaining that my mother was a Tica by birth from Guapiles. The girl told me to go ahead in, but I might have to pay the difference in case someone else found out. I thanked her and knew I was in.
I spent the next two and a half hours reading every sign and poster in the whole museum. I learned that the largest tropical rain forest in Costa Rica is the Corcovado, located in the southwest. It is also in this same region that much metallurgy in gold took place. The indigenous people of the region derived artisan and artistic influences from the region of northwest Colombia by way of the Isthmus of Panama. Similar to the Museum of Jade, the artifacts were mostly zooanthropomorphic, using especially the figures of alligators, jaguars, and birds as symbols of power and authority. I learned that the shamans were not only spiritual leaders, but by virtue of their spiritual wisdom, they were also the political leaders as well. Pre-Columbian society was largely agricultural and trade did exist among various tribes. The most advanced settlements were in the Southwest region already mentioned.
After the conquest and in more recent history, I learned that banana was the dominant product and international export from the 1820s until the 1970s. Prior to this time, coffee and sugar cane had been the primary exports. Nevertheless, coffee remained an important export.
Based on the brief knowledge I gained, it seems that a primary factor in Costa Rica not having a strong socialist movement in the 1960s and 1970s was due largely (and strangely enough) to its two-crop export economy. Throughout those decades, and in the decades prior, the revenue from exportation of coffee and banana was steady and stable. However, a drop in the international market for coffee in the 1970s, coupled with the 1979 international oil crisis, dramatically impacted the Costa Rican economy in a negative manner. The 1980s were a decade of high inflation, but the international atmosphere for socialist movements was already past. Focusing specifically on the Costa Rican economy, it only began to rebound significantly in the 1990s when tourism, specifically eco-tourism, replaced agricultural exports as the nation's primary source of revenue. Connected with that last point, the centimo disappeared in the latter years of high inflation, leaving the colon as the only form of currency. Currently the exchange rate is 377 colones to 1 North-American dollar.
Now, to re-cap my days from January 3rd to January 5th. I spent that time in Puerto Viejo, a town in the province of Limon. My cousin Yorlen accompanied me, or perhaps I accompanied her, I'm not quite sure which. Either way, it was a good experience. I was happy to have some one-on-one time with someone so that my slower Spanish was not deflected from the conversation. That is, she had no choice but to speak to me, and on the flip-side, I was forced to engage in conversation with her. It was a necessary challenge, and I can say that I feel more confident with my Spanish after those three days. I am very grateful for that time and I am happy to have gotten to know Yorlen much better. I am sure she has no idea how grateful I am to her.
Well, on to a description of Puerto Viejo. First of all, it is very caribeno. Most of the local population is of African descent. I ate several dishes of "rice and beans," which is exactly what it says, only it is cooked with coconut milk. It was absolutely delicious.
Our first night, Friday, we went to a pizzeria, where we nearly finished a large pizza along with splitting a container of one liter of red wine. Afterwards, we went to a beachfront club called "Bambu" which was packed to the rim with people dancing to reggae roots music. It was a cool scene. And definitely a lot of second-hand cheeba smoke.
On both Friday and Saturday days, I went into the Atlantic Ocean, which was quite energetic. Once on Saturday, a wave took me and slammed my ass onto the floor of the ocean. I guess nature put me in my place. I had fun though.
Saturday night was top-notch, though. Yorlen and I brought a bottle of red Chilean wine to sit on the beach under the starlight and facing the incessant waves of the Caribbean. As we drank the bottle of wine, we shared a habano. The whole mood and the whole atmosphere was just so pristine, so tranquil. It was the kind of night where the beauty of life was so palpable that one could not help feeling both happy and thankful.
The next day, Sunday, we walked along the beach and then sat for a while on a log, where I actually fell asleep for a short while. Before that, though, I should mention that we went to a butterfly garden. However, it was not that impressive so it is not worth any further explication. After our repose on the beach, we checked out of our room to catch the bus back to San Jose. It was a wonderful weekend.
And so now, here I am. Tomorrow I plan on visiting the campus of the Universidad de Costa Rica (U.C.R.) with my cousin Andrea. I think I will speak with the director of international relations. More simply, though, I just want to see the campus. I'll be sure to write again soon.
Thursday, January 2, 2003
San Jose, Costa Rica -- afternoon
I'm really not writing as often as I had expected I would. Oh well, nothing ever goes according to plan. Anyway, I guess I've got to get used to writing "2003" now.
I spent New Year's Eve on the white sand of Manuel Antonio under a star-lit sky, with palm trees at my back and the cool breeze off the Pacific Ocean on my face. I toasted the new year with a healthy swig of Chilean red wine.
I have now been here in Costa Rica for a month. My immersion is continuing; my Spanish has improved, due mainly to the steady acquisition of a larger, wider vocabulary. My salsa and my meringue are coming a bit more slowly. I think the latter isn't so much due to a lack of skill as it is a lack of courage. I'll get it down though.
I'm really looking forward to this new year. In many ways, it's symbolic, but I had been ready for a fresh start. This will be a year of fresh experiences, of living life to the fullest. This will be a year to take risks, because that is the flavor of life.
But it's interesting to set forth so alone. And technically speaking, I'm homeless. I have no permanent home. Viewed with a certain lens, that may seem pathetic or dangerous, but as I see it, it is a form of liberty. But again, living such a transient life may make it hard to set down roots. That security is the objective of so many people the world over. At this point in time, that objective does not necessarily attract me. In fact, settling down may actually be an aversion for me; I equate it with monotony, which is just a waste of life.
I'm really beginning to itch to set off solo. There are just three considerations before acting on that impulse. First, I want to be confident of my proficiency in Spanish. Although I don't expect to be fully fluent any time soon, I want to attain a high level of proficiency, namely in my speaking skills. Right now, my listening/understanding skills are almost peak.
The second consideration is cultural. Here in Costa Rica, and surely throughout much of Latin America, dance is fundamental to the nightlife. My meringue is not doing too bad, but I feel that my salsa needs some help. All that spinning and turning takes a lot of practice. I'm looking to bring my dancing to at least a decent level before hitting the road.
Finally, my third consideration is psycho-mental. Very simply, I must have the courage and determination to take that first step on the path toward my dreams. With faith in God and faith in myself, anything is possible. But it must be the strain of faith that is absolutely unshakeable. May this new year be a fulfilling one.
I spent New Year's Eve on the white sand of Manuel Antonio under a star-lit sky, with palm trees at my back and the cool breeze off the Pacific Ocean on my face. I toasted the new year with a healthy swig of Chilean red wine.
I have now been here in Costa Rica for a month. My immersion is continuing; my Spanish has improved, due mainly to the steady acquisition of a larger, wider vocabulary. My salsa and my meringue are coming a bit more slowly. I think the latter isn't so much due to a lack of skill as it is a lack of courage. I'll get it down though.
I'm really looking forward to this new year. In many ways, it's symbolic, but I had been ready for a fresh start. This will be a year of fresh experiences, of living life to the fullest. This will be a year to take risks, because that is the flavor of life.
But it's interesting to set forth so alone. And technically speaking, I'm homeless. I have no permanent home. Viewed with a certain lens, that may seem pathetic or dangerous, but as I see it, it is a form of liberty. But again, living such a transient life may make it hard to set down roots. That security is the objective of so many people the world over. At this point in time, that objective does not necessarily attract me. In fact, settling down may actually be an aversion for me; I equate it with monotony, which is just a waste of life.
I'm really beginning to itch to set off solo. There are just three considerations before acting on that impulse. First, I want to be confident of my proficiency in Spanish. Although I don't expect to be fully fluent any time soon, I want to attain a high level of proficiency, namely in my speaking skills. Right now, my listening/understanding skills are almost peak.
The second consideration is cultural. Here in Costa Rica, and surely throughout much of Latin America, dance is fundamental to the nightlife. My meringue is not doing too bad, but I feel that my salsa needs some help. All that spinning and turning takes a lot of practice. I'm looking to bring my dancing to at least a decent level before hitting the road.
Finally, my third consideration is psycho-mental. Very simply, I must have the courage and determination to take that first step on the path toward my dreams. With faith in God and faith in myself, anything is possible. But it must be the strain of faith that is absolutely unshakeable. May this new year be a fulfilling one.
Monday, December 23, 2002
San Jose, Costa Rica -- morning
I'm not even sure what to write about, but I feel that I should write. I'm not sure exactly what I'm feeling right now, but I figure I can get a better idea from what comes out of the tip of this pen. I think I feel listless. I wish I could just pick up and go. I want to walk out the door and go exploring. Since I've been here, my schedule has been determined by everyone but me. Somehow I need to establish my own initiative and leadership. I had gotten used to the feeling of independence while I was in Philly. At any point in time I could just leave my apartment to walk the streets of Philadelphia. But here in San Jose, all the houses have high metal fences and bars on the windows. That doesn't do much to alleviate my feeling caged-in like some kind of a bird with the potential to fly among the clouds. Instead my wings are clipped and I look out at the world from my own little world, knowing that there is so much else out there. I've got to break free. I've got to experience that line from the book, Jonathan Livingston Seagull: "The gull who flies highest sees the farthest." I've got to live life.
Thursday, December 19, 2002
San Jose, Costa Rica -- night
I think it's interesting that I haven't felt lonely or depressed since I've been here. To a certain extent, I'm definitely surprised. On the other hand, though, I've gotten used to feeling solitary since the end of my last relationship.
One of my intentions of leaving my comfortable life in the United States was to embrace that solitude. By doing so, I hoped to find myself, as the cliche goes. I wanted to be comfortable with myself primarily for my own sake. At a secondary level, though, if I ever enter into another relationship, it would only be fair and respectful to that woman that I be centered and confident with myself. That second point, however, I do not expect or anticipate. At that level, I may very well be lonely, but not realize it completely, feeling comfortably numb.
What concerns me most at this point is my direction in life. Although I am not completely aimless, since I have values and dreams, I do feel lost. Unfortunately there are no want-ads in the paper looking for applicants to change the world. Since my primary aim is not to accumulate as much money as possible, my options are not so clearly delineated. I absolutely must maintain faith: faith in God and faith in myself. From that conviction, my first premise must be action, movement. With that action, and the contacts and experiences that will necessarily arise, I will derive a clearer vision of my path.
My philosophy, or outlook on life, has taken a definite turn to existentialism. Perhaps it is for this reason that I am so comfortably numb. Since the future affects me, at best, in a vague manner, it doesn't play much of a factor in my considerations. At this point, my philosophy only gives me a vision to the present and the immediate future.
Here are some lines that I jotted down the other day: "Life consists of the present and an anticipation of the immediate future. The past and the future exist only as a type of imagination, a manifestation of a distorted reality. Therefore, to exist simply and solely as a memory is to be dead in all practical terms, if not also in the present physical reality. For the one holding the memory, the former is a certainty; the latter, from that perspective, cannot be ascertained and is therefore as good as true."
One of my intentions of leaving my comfortable life in the United States was to embrace that solitude. By doing so, I hoped to find myself, as the cliche goes. I wanted to be comfortable with myself primarily for my own sake. At a secondary level, though, if I ever enter into another relationship, it would only be fair and respectful to that woman that I be centered and confident with myself. That second point, however, I do not expect or anticipate. At that level, I may very well be lonely, but not realize it completely, feeling comfortably numb.
What concerns me most at this point is my direction in life. Although I am not completely aimless, since I have values and dreams, I do feel lost. Unfortunately there are no want-ads in the paper looking for applicants to change the world. Since my primary aim is not to accumulate as much money as possible, my options are not so clearly delineated. I absolutely must maintain faith: faith in God and faith in myself. From that conviction, my first premise must be action, movement. With that action, and the contacts and experiences that will necessarily arise, I will derive a clearer vision of my path.
My philosophy, or outlook on life, has taken a definite turn to existentialism. Perhaps it is for this reason that I am so comfortably numb. Since the future affects me, at best, in a vague manner, it doesn't play much of a factor in my considerations. At this point, my philosophy only gives me a vision to the present and the immediate future.
Here are some lines that I jotted down the other day: "Life consists of the present and an anticipation of the immediate future. The past and the future exist only as a type of imagination, a manifestation of a distorted reality. Therefore, to exist simply and solely as a memory is to be dead in all practical terms, if not also in the present physical reality. For the one holding the memory, the former is a certainty; the latter, from that perspective, cannot be ascertained and is therefore as good as true."
Wednesday, December 18, 2002
San Jose, Costa Rica -- night
So it's actually been a while. I'll start by recounting the recent.
Yesterday I went with Carlos to the Museum of Jade in San Jose. Although the museum wasn't very large, it was surely interesting. Jade seems to have been one of, if not the most popular substance of art in pre-Columbian and post-Columbian indigenous culture. The green color of the jade was usually a symbol of fertility. Much of the art was anthropomorphic and zoomorphic in nature, the most common characters being the jaguar, the alligator/crocodile, the bat, the snake/serpent, and of course, the human. Also striking was the predominance of phallic symbols; apparently the indigenous males of the region were very proud.
It was also interesting to observe one skull displayed among the other artwork and artifacts. The front eight teeth of the skull, four top and four bottom, had vertical grooves of perhaps half a centimeter. I surmised that the skull must be that of a male indigenous warrior, as the artificial grooves in the front teeth would be visible in a battle, and would effectively serve to present a wild look to any opponent, thereby instilling fear in him. Interestingly, it was remarkable to see the good condition of all the teeth.
Finally, the Jade Museum should be mentioned for its location on the 11th floor of the INS (Instituto Nacional de Seguros) building. Because of the building's location at one of the lowest points in the central valley, the rest of the valley appears to steadily rise in all directions to the heights of the surrounding mountains. This set-up affords an amazing view of the valley in two directions: the two sides of the building that have windows.
From there, we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which really had nothing worth mentioning, except perhaps an exhibit of a U.S. dollar bill recreated on a scale of about four feet by six feet. The large dollar was taped to the floor and visitors were encouraged to walk on it. It was the artist's response to dollarization in Latin America, along with the cultural baggage attached to it.
Today, Carlos and I tried to go to the National Library, only to find out that it is closed until June 2003! Absolutely ridiculous. I guess it's fortunate that one can still have access to books by specifically requesting them from a librarian, who then goes to retrieve the books for you, after which time one can peruse them in a special room, but not check them out. With this system, my research method is shot. I requested a couple of books about social movements in Costa Rican history and a book of poetry by the Nicaraguan poet, Ruben Dario. But in the pressure of the small viewing room, along with the time pressure of keeping Carlos somewhere I didn't think he wanted to be, I wasn't able to do more than just read a few pages. I want to learn about Costa Rica's post-World War II economic development and its apparently weak 1960s and 1970s social movements, to determine why Costa Rica has such a poor record of socialism as compared to other Latin American countries.
Well, prior to these past couple of days, I had been in Pital, near San Carlos, for most of last week. I stayed with Tio Elmer. My reason for not writing, or doing anything for that matter, is that I was quite ill. It was very much inevitable for it to have occurred. First of all, I was run-down when I first arrived in Costa Rica, after several weeks of working late at the office as well as heavy doses of the counter-balancing social activities, which often included late nights. Then upon my arrival here, it was as if I was a politician on campaign, that is, constantly in motion. Again, the nightlife activities continued. But now, the completely unpredictable schedule threw my body for a loop. This, in combination with a brand-new diet, also at unpredictable hours and in an unpredictable schedule, finally gave my body and my health just a bit more than it could handle. I got a fever and a headache, along with a congested nose. It took me a couple rough days and then a few more additional days to completely recover.
Now that I've been back in San Jose, I think I'm as healthy as I'm going to be. Although my last few days have consisted in too much sleep, I'm sure it has helped to bring my health, physical at least, back to equilibrium. My psycho-mental health, on the other hand, has probably suffered. Too much free time without action leads to contemplation, sometimes of the obsessive order. That, however, is another entry for another time.
Yesterday I went with Carlos to the Museum of Jade in San Jose. Although the museum wasn't very large, it was surely interesting. Jade seems to have been one of, if not the most popular substance of art in pre-Columbian and post-Columbian indigenous culture. The green color of the jade was usually a symbol of fertility. Much of the art was anthropomorphic and zoomorphic in nature, the most common characters being the jaguar, the alligator/crocodile, the bat, the snake/serpent, and of course, the human. Also striking was the predominance of phallic symbols; apparently the indigenous males of the region were very proud.
It was also interesting to observe one skull displayed among the other artwork and artifacts. The front eight teeth of the skull, four top and four bottom, had vertical grooves of perhaps half a centimeter. I surmised that the skull must be that of a male indigenous warrior, as the artificial grooves in the front teeth would be visible in a battle, and would effectively serve to present a wild look to any opponent, thereby instilling fear in him. Interestingly, it was remarkable to see the good condition of all the teeth.
Finally, the Jade Museum should be mentioned for its location on the 11th floor of the INS (Instituto Nacional de Seguros) building. Because of the building's location at one of the lowest points in the central valley, the rest of the valley appears to steadily rise in all directions to the heights of the surrounding mountains. This set-up affords an amazing view of the valley in two directions: the two sides of the building that have windows.
From there, we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which really had nothing worth mentioning, except perhaps an exhibit of a U.S. dollar bill recreated on a scale of about four feet by six feet. The large dollar was taped to the floor and visitors were encouraged to walk on it. It was the artist's response to dollarization in Latin America, along with the cultural baggage attached to it.
Today, Carlos and I tried to go to the National Library, only to find out that it is closed until June 2003! Absolutely ridiculous. I guess it's fortunate that one can still have access to books by specifically requesting them from a librarian, who then goes to retrieve the books for you, after which time one can peruse them in a special room, but not check them out. With this system, my research method is shot. I requested a couple of books about social movements in Costa Rican history and a book of poetry by the Nicaraguan poet, Ruben Dario. But in the pressure of the small viewing room, along with the time pressure of keeping Carlos somewhere I didn't think he wanted to be, I wasn't able to do more than just read a few pages. I want to learn about Costa Rica's post-World War II economic development and its apparently weak 1960s and 1970s social movements, to determine why Costa Rica has such a poor record of socialism as compared to other Latin American countries.
Well, prior to these past couple of days, I had been in Pital, near San Carlos, for most of last week. I stayed with Tio Elmer. My reason for not writing, or doing anything for that matter, is that I was quite ill. It was very much inevitable for it to have occurred. First of all, I was run-down when I first arrived in Costa Rica, after several weeks of working late at the office as well as heavy doses of the counter-balancing social activities, which often included late nights. Then upon my arrival here, it was as if I was a politician on campaign, that is, constantly in motion. Again, the nightlife activities continued. But now, the completely unpredictable schedule threw my body for a loop. This, in combination with a brand-new diet, also at unpredictable hours and in an unpredictable schedule, finally gave my body and my health just a bit more than it could handle. I got a fever and a headache, along with a congested nose. It took me a couple rough days and then a few more additional days to completely recover.
Now that I've been back in San Jose, I think I'm as healthy as I'm going to be. Although my last few days have consisted in too much sleep, I'm sure it has helped to bring my health, physical at least, back to equilibrium. My psycho-mental health, on the other hand, has probably suffered. Too much free time without action leads to contemplation, sometimes of the obsessive order. That, however, is another entry for another time.
Saturday, December 7, 2002
San Jose, Costa Rica -- afternoon
I have a few free minutes, plus I want to at least appear productive. Therefore, I'll write a few lines.
These past couple of days, I've felt anything but productive. I wake up just to sit around the house. I feel as if I should have grand plans every day, but instead I don't do anything really worth mentioning.
Besides trying to concentrate during conversations to learn new words and phrases, I've also done a good deal of reading. I brought along a hefty tome in anticipation of the opportunity and the need to do a lot of reading; the book is Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. It hasn't much grabbed my attention, but its my only steady form of entertainment so I stick with it. As a book over a thousand pages long, I'll remain patient before it picks up and begins to ascend towards its climax.
Rand is a strong proponent of capitalism, so this book will likely serve to reinforce my own socialist beliefs. But it is my belief that everyone should have an open mind to all theories and beliefs in order to reform or revise one's own beliefs or else in order to reinforce or strengthen one's own beliefs.
Well, I've just been served a cup of coffee by my Tia Luisa. I'm sure I'll return to my writing soon enough.
These past couple of days, I've felt anything but productive. I wake up just to sit around the house. I feel as if I should have grand plans every day, but instead I don't do anything really worth mentioning.
Besides trying to concentrate during conversations to learn new words and phrases, I've also done a good deal of reading. I brought along a hefty tome in anticipation of the opportunity and the need to do a lot of reading; the book is Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. It hasn't much grabbed my attention, but its my only steady form of entertainment so I stick with it. As a book over a thousand pages long, I'll remain patient before it picks up and begins to ascend towards its climax.
Rand is a strong proponent of capitalism, so this book will likely serve to reinforce my own socialist beliefs. But it is my belief that everyone should have an open mind to all theories and beliefs in order to reform or revise one's own beliefs or else in order to reinforce or strengthen one's own beliefs.
Well, I've just been served a cup of coffee by my Tia Luisa. I'm sure I'll return to my writing soon enough.
Friday, December 6, 2002
San Jose, Costa Rica -- night
Although I'm feeling quite lethargic (I've been doing nothing all day but either sleeping or lying around), I wanted to write a bit.
I failed to mention earlier that I have been driving a lot since I've been here. It seems bizarre, but Carlos and Marlen have a car, a white Geo Metro, but neither one has a license. And so, since I'm the only one with a valid driver's license, I have been doing all the driving. It had been a while since I had driven a car, let alone a stick-shift. But thankfully I polished the rust very quickly, even succeeding in starting in first gear on an upward slope. Through all this Carlos has been my navigator. It seems so strange to me that the streets in Costa Rica have no name; very reminiscent of a song by U2. But to give someone clear directions about how to get from one side of the city to the other seems a quite difficult task. Everything is predicated on landmarks, of which there aren't always any on-hand or on-site. For someone not born and raised in this land, who has become familiar with landmarks and directions and geography and distances, the goal of driving with confidence by oneself seems a highly dangerous, Herculean one.
Well, be that as it may, let me now try to quickly re-cap last night. Carlos, Andrea, Marlen, Marlen's boyfriend and I went to a bar/club in the center of San Jose. There was a cover charge of 1500 colones, which is approximately 4 dollars. I paid for Andrea and myself. Marlen became very angry very quickly with Carlos because there was really no one there, yet we had to pay the entrance fee. From my perspective, I really didn't care since I've been to clubs in New York City where the cover charge is $20. But I did understand the principle. And in fact, aside from the money issue, I was more concerned about going somewhere where there would be more people.
Carlos decided we would leave to go to a popular area for clubs, before which time I pounded 3 Imperial beers, the national beer of Costa Rica. I figured it was my birthday and it was a good opportunity to loosen up.
When we arrived at the next club, minus Marlen's boyfriend and plus one of Carlos' friends, I was a bit surprised at the atmosphere. The couple of clubs on this street were both packed with a college-type crowd. I felt like I was back in the United States, and moreso when I went inside and they played a lot of American music, mostly hip-hop. I kept drinking Imperiales and soon began to feel pretty good, to the point where I began dancing and even singing along with some of the songs. I'm sure the latter had to have marked me as a gringo, but at that point I really didn't care; I was looking to have a good time. A little bit before we left there, I bought everyone a round of beers.
From there, we went to a complex of bars and clubs called El Pueblo, which I remembered going to my last time here four and a half years ago. Now it was just Carlos, Marlen, Andrea and me. We were hanging out by the bar. Soon after we got there, Carlos bought me a gin and tonic, presumably as a birthday gift. Somehow, while standing there waiting for the bartender to mix the drink, I spontaneously began a conversation with a girl right there. She was a Tica, so I had to give my Spanish a serious try; our conversation was a good one. She said I spoke Spanish very well but that I had a slight accent and that my pronunciation was a bit choppy. I think the latter had more to do with the alcohol, but who knows. Regardless, our conversation kept rolling along until she invited me to the dance floor. Carlos came along since I had introduced him to her. By the way, her name was Raquel. We started dancing, then she introduced me to her younger sister, Noemi, who had a very shy beauty. I danced with her for a while and was really enjoying it. Then Carlos suggested that we go to the bar where he sometimes works, located in the same complex. We invited the girls and they actually came with us to my pleasant surprise. We continued our conversation, but soon the girls wanted to leave because of the lack of atmosphere, wihch I really didn't blame them. Before leaving, Raquel asked me for my phone number, which I readily provided after getting it from Carlos.
After they left, Carlos had his bartender-friend mix up this blue alcoholic drink. I took one sip and nearly puked from its nastiness. I told Marlen and Andrea to finish it for me. Shortly after that, perhaps empowered from my encounter with Raquel or perhaps empowered by intoxication, I tried starting a conversation with three girls at the same bar. From what I can recall, it went ok but couldn't really develop since the bar was closing. I returned to hang-out by the bar with my cousins and periodically succeeded in making eyes with the girl that was most attractive. Nothing more came of it except for a few smiles. But I was quite content.
We took a cab back home. Next thing I remember is waking up face down, fully clothed on the bed with the bedroom light still on. I got up in my groggy state to close the door, take off my clothes, turn off the light, and get in bed. With that as the final note of the night, I'd have to say it was a good one. I have to say with pleasure that my first birthday spent outside of the United States was a positive, clean experience. I couldn't have asked for anything better.
I failed to mention earlier that I have been driving a lot since I've been here. It seems bizarre, but Carlos and Marlen have a car, a white Geo Metro, but neither one has a license. And so, since I'm the only one with a valid driver's license, I have been doing all the driving. It had been a while since I had driven a car, let alone a stick-shift. But thankfully I polished the rust very quickly, even succeeding in starting in first gear on an upward slope. Through all this Carlos has been my navigator. It seems so strange to me that the streets in Costa Rica have no name; very reminiscent of a song by U2. But to give someone clear directions about how to get from one side of the city to the other seems a quite difficult task. Everything is predicated on landmarks, of which there aren't always any on-hand or on-site. For someone not born and raised in this land, who has become familiar with landmarks and directions and geography and distances, the goal of driving with confidence by oneself seems a highly dangerous, Herculean one.
Well, be that as it may, let me now try to quickly re-cap last night. Carlos, Andrea, Marlen, Marlen's boyfriend and I went to a bar/club in the center of San Jose. There was a cover charge of 1500 colones, which is approximately 4 dollars. I paid for Andrea and myself. Marlen became very angry very quickly with Carlos because there was really no one there, yet we had to pay the entrance fee. From my perspective, I really didn't care since I've been to clubs in New York City where the cover charge is $20. But I did understand the principle. And in fact, aside from the money issue, I was more concerned about going somewhere where there would be more people.
Carlos decided we would leave to go to a popular area for clubs, before which time I pounded 3 Imperial beers, the national beer of Costa Rica. I figured it was my birthday and it was a good opportunity to loosen up.
When we arrived at the next club, minus Marlen's boyfriend and plus one of Carlos' friends, I was a bit surprised at the atmosphere. The couple of clubs on this street were both packed with a college-type crowd. I felt like I was back in the United States, and moreso when I went inside and they played a lot of American music, mostly hip-hop. I kept drinking Imperiales and soon began to feel pretty good, to the point where I began dancing and even singing along with some of the songs. I'm sure the latter had to have marked me as a gringo, but at that point I really didn't care; I was looking to have a good time. A little bit before we left there, I bought everyone a round of beers.
From there, we went to a complex of bars and clubs called El Pueblo, which I remembered going to my last time here four and a half years ago. Now it was just Carlos, Marlen, Andrea and me. We were hanging out by the bar. Soon after we got there, Carlos bought me a gin and tonic, presumably as a birthday gift. Somehow, while standing there waiting for the bartender to mix the drink, I spontaneously began a conversation with a girl right there. She was a Tica, so I had to give my Spanish a serious try; our conversation was a good one. She said I spoke Spanish very well but that I had a slight accent and that my pronunciation was a bit choppy. I think the latter had more to do with the alcohol, but who knows. Regardless, our conversation kept rolling along until she invited me to the dance floor. Carlos came along since I had introduced him to her. By the way, her name was Raquel. We started dancing, then she introduced me to her younger sister, Noemi, who had a very shy beauty. I danced with her for a while and was really enjoying it. Then Carlos suggested that we go to the bar where he sometimes works, located in the same complex. We invited the girls and they actually came with us to my pleasant surprise. We continued our conversation, but soon the girls wanted to leave because of the lack of atmosphere, wihch I really didn't blame them. Before leaving, Raquel asked me for my phone number, which I readily provided after getting it from Carlos.
After they left, Carlos had his bartender-friend mix up this blue alcoholic drink. I took one sip and nearly puked from its nastiness. I told Marlen and Andrea to finish it for me. Shortly after that, perhaps empowered from my encounter with Raquel or perhaps empowered by intoxication, I tried starting a conversation with three girls at the same bar. From what I can recall, it went ok but couldn't really develop since the bar was closing. I returned to hang-out by the bar with my cousins and periodically succeeded in making eyes with the girl that was most attractive. Nothing more came of it except for a few smiles. But I was quite content.
We took a cab back home. Next thing I remember is waking up face down, fully clothed on the bed with the bedroom light still on. I got up in my groggy state to close the door, take off my clothes, turn off the light, and get in bed. With that as the final note of the night, I'd have to say it was a good one. I have to say with pleasure that my first birthday spent outside of the United States was a positive, clean experience. I couldn't have asked for anything better.
Thursday, December 5, 2002
San Jose, Costa Rica -- evening
Well here I am. Today of course is my birthday. Although I'm looking forward to going out for a few beers tonight, it doesn't feel any different than any other night of going out. Except for the fact that I'm in a country outside of the United States and am in a position where I must speak Spanish. I shouldn't over-state the cultural differences, though, since Costa Rica (at least in the capital city) is now quite (North-) Americanized. As I write this I listen to a song by Linkin Park that's being played on a local radio station. Last night, my cousins, Carlos and Marlen, invited me to see the movie Red Dragon in a movie theater connected to a decent-sized mall. Before the movie, we went to the food court for dinner. After checking out choices like Subway, KFC, Taco Bell, and other North American favorites, we finally decided on Burger King. Really, I should say that I had no say in the matter, even though I wasn't necessarily opposed.
Objectively speaking, I cannot say whether my cousins are purposely trying to ease the culture shock or whether San Jose is really that North-Americanized. If I had to roll the dice right now, I'd put my money on the latter. Which is a shame because the national culture and character of Costa Rica is increasingly being co-opted by North American popular culture. In addition to the music and restaurants, I have already seen several North American television programs, including Smallville and Maximum Exposure. At this point, I don't mind so much on a selfish personal level. But really, I'd rather experience a true cultural contact. For now, I'll remain patient.
I look forward to spending some time with my grandfather on the 'finca' in the country. I would hope that the rural areas retain their indigenous roots and national character. But it really pains me when I ask my cousins who the nation's greatest writer/poet is, and they're really not too sure. After a solid minute, Carlos provided me a name, however the response did not seem too confident and certainly not too proud. Nevertheless, to be fair, I should hesitate to use my cousins as true representatives of Costa Rican patriotism.
Now, if I may, I will attempt to quickly re-cap my trip here and the major happenings since. First, to take it back a few days, I had a great couple of days in New York City, most notably the last day on Monday, December 2nd. Paul and I took the subway from Queens into Manhattan. We went to a coffee shop in order to have some good conversation and also so I could sit down to call Verizon Wireless in order to cut off my cell phone service. The latter was such a pain in the ass; I was transferred at least four times from one bureaucratic bastard to the other. I think it was done purposely to dissuade me from actually cutting off my service.
Anyway, from there we crossed the street to go to the Empire State Building. The view from the observation deck was absolutely amazing. Thankfully we had a clear night, and so we could easily see Brooklyn and Queens to the east and New Jersey to the west. While taking a bunch of photos, Paul overheard a girl talking on a cell phone about an interview she had had earlier in the day in which she was interviewed (at least partly) in Spanish. Paul urged me to talk with her since I had nothing to lose, considering my departure in only a matter of hours. So I said 'why not?' I began a conversation with her that ended up lasting nearly an hour. Her name is Ana, and she is half-Mexican, half-Swiss. She was in NYC for an interview at Columbia Medical School. The clutch in the conversation was when I started dropping knowledge of classic literature, including Joyce, Kafka, Kerouac, Garcia Marquez and others. I think she was a bit impressed, and for me, I was happy to meet an intelligent and well-read woman. At the end of our conversation, we exchanged email addresses. I told her that I would surely keep in touch, and she said that she would do the same.
From that pleasant encounter, Paul and I left to get things started. We went for dinner at Carmine's, a nice Italian restaurant near Times Square. Since the wait was about an hour, we went to a near-by bar for a few rounds of Miller Lite. We returned to Carmine's for an extremely filling family-style dinner. I can hardly believe how much I ate, but I'm sure some adrenaline in anticipation of my journey and then the beers really kept me going. When we both started feeling the alcohol, Paul decided to take it up a notch or two by ordering Sapphire-and-tonic's. Broken up only by short yet meaningful conversation with my father, Paul and I had a great time. We joked and laughed quite a lot. With the two of us, though, that goes without saying. It couldn't be any different. It wouldn't be any different.
After dinner, we jumped to a few bars in the Village, but there isn't much to say from there. I think my impending trip began to weigh more heavily on my mind and Paul's too. We returned to Paul's apartment in Queens and he took a nap while I sent out a bunch of emails.
Fast-forwarding to the airport, I got there at about 3:30am for my 5:25am departure. Since my ticket was with LACSA, I should have expected the delay of departure until nearly 4pm. It may have ended up better though since I had a lot of time to sober up and also to rest in order to expel my illness. Now that I'm here in the warmer weather, I'm nearly over the cold.
Well, now that I'm here, I have to think and speak in Spanish. I've been playing it cool so far, but I realize that I must make more effort to communicate in order to learn quickly. I took the same approach when I began as a paralegal at PLA, and quickly 'picked up the trade,' so to speak. I must apply the same philosophy now so that I may be successful. More importantly, I want to be social. I have a lot of ideas to offer; silence will do me no good. For that reason, I'll stop writing now. Time to live life.
Objectively speaking, I cannot say whether my cousins are purposely trying to ease the culture shock or whether San Jose is really that North-Americanized. If I had to roll the dice right now, I'd put my money on the latter. Which is a shame because the national culture and character of Costa Rica is increasingly being co-opted by North American popular culture. In addition to the music and restaurants, I have already seen several North American television programs, including Smallville and Maximum Exposure. At this point, I don't mind so much on a selfish personal level. But really, I'd rather experience a true cultural contact. For now, I'll remain patient.
I look forward to spending some time with my grandfather on the 'finca' in the country. I would hope that the rural areas retain their indigenous roots and national character. But it really pains me when I ask my cousins who the nation's greatest writer/poet is, and they're really not too sure. After a solid minute, Carlos provided me a name, however the response did not seem too confident and certainly not too proud. Nevertheless, to be fair, I should hesitate to use my cousins as true representatives of Costa Rican patriotism.
Now, if I may, I will attempt to quickly re-cap my trip here and the major happenings since. First, to take it back a few days, I had a great couple of days in New York City, most notably the last day on Monday, December 2nd. Paul and I took the subway from Queens into Manhattan. We went to a coffee shop in order to have some good conversation and also so I could sit down to call Verizon Wireless in order to cut off my cell phone service. The latter was such a pain in the ass; I was transferred at least four times from one bureaucratic bastard to the other. I think it was done purposely to dissuade me from actually cutting off my service.
Anyway, from there we crossed the street to go to the Empire State Building. The view from the observation deck was absolutely amazing. Thankfully we had a clear night, and so we could easily see Brooklyn and Queens to the east and New Jersey to the west. While taking a bunch of photos, Paul overheard a girl talking on a cell phone about an interview she had had earlier in the day in which she was interviewed (at least partly) in Spanish. Paul urged me to talk with her since I had nothing to lose, considering my departure in only a matter of hours. So I said 'why not?' I began a conversation with her that ended up lasting nearly an hour. Her name is Ana, and she is half-Mexican, half-Swiss. She was in NYC for an interview at Columbia Medical School. The clutch in the conversation was when I started dropping knowledge of classic literature, including Joyce, Kafka, Kerouac, Garcia Marquez and others. I think she was a bit impressed, and for me, I was happy to meet an intelligent and well-read woman. At the end of our conversation, we exchanged email addresses. I told her that I would surely keep in touch, and she said that she would do the same.
From that pleasant encounter, Paul and I left to get things started. We went for dinner at Carmine's, a nice Italian restaurant near Times Square. Since the wait was about an hour, we went to a near-by bar for a few rounds of Miller Lite. We returned to Carmine's for an extremely filling family-style dinner. I can hardly believe how much I ate, but I'm sure some adrenaline in anticipation of my journey and then the beers really kept me going. When we both started feeling the alcohol, Paul decided to take it up a notch or two by ordering Sapphire-and-tonic's. Broken up only by short yet meaningful conversation with my father, Paul and I had a great time. We joked and laughed quite a lot. With the two of us, though, that goes without saying. It couldn't be any different. It wouldn't be any different.
After dinner, we jumped to a few bars in the Village, but there isn't much to say from there. I think my impending trip began to weigh more heavily on my mind and Paul's too. We returned to Paul's apartment in Queens and he took a nap while I sent out a bunch of emails.
Fast-forwarding to the airport, I got there at about 3:30am for my 5:25am departure. Since my ticket was with LACSA, I should have expected the delay of departure until nearly 4pm. It may have ended up better though since I had a lot of time to sober up and also to rest in order to expel my illness. Now that I'm here in the warmer weather, I'm nearly over the cold.
Well, now that I'm here, I have to think and speak in Spanish. I've been playing it cool so far, but I realize that I must make more effort to communicate in order to learn quickly. I took the same approach when I began as a paralegal at PLA, and quickly 'picked up the trade,' so to speak. I must apply the same philosophy now so that I may be successful. More importantly, I want to be social. I have a lot of ideas to offer; silence will do me no good. For that reason, I'll stop writing now. Time to live life.
Friday, November 15, 2002
[written during a family law unit meeting]
Staying awake must be the goal. Vibrance and vivacity will be the emotions of the day. Despite just a few hours of sleep, we must continue to consciously participate in the world around us. And do so in such a way that our attitude is positive and outgoing. The day is young. Live life to the fullest: every day and every minute of every day. It is important to continue smiling in order to set the ideal example of positivity and vibrance. By writing these thoughts and sentiments down on paper, I can outwardly appear to be engaging myself, while inwardly continuing to utilize my mental capacity. The funniest part of this whole charade is that observers will wonder and ponder what I could possibly be writing. Actually, more likely than not, no one gives a shit. Apathy and social disengagement are wonderful qualities of a personality. If only these qualities could be developed in every person throughout the whole world at the same exact instant. What could then possibly become of the world? Would each human eventually wither away in utter ignorance? And if in fact it did happen, would the world be (at least perceptually) a much better place? If everyone just didn't give a shit. And for that one poor soul observing this worldwide spontaneous mental/emotional stultification, would the event be seen as a complete tragedy or the ultimate comedy? My prediction is that that person would laugh their ass off to the point of choking, and then quickly find a way to commit suicide.
Tuesday, June 18, 2002
Temple commitment
June 18, 2002
Temple University
Beasley School of Law
Admissions Committee
1719 North Broad Street
Philadelphia, PA 19122
Dear Sir or Madam:
I am writing to inform you that I am committed to being a member of this fall’s entering class at Temple University Beasley School of Law and hope that I will be accepted.
I want to be a lawyer because I want help people. Due to such factors as poverty, racism, and gender inequality, there are many groups of people who are disadvantaged. I have been fortunate to have gained a quality education thus far, beginning at a public high school and then through a scholarship to a respected liberal arts college. Once there, my strong work ethic, coupled with a strong desire to help others, lead me into several extra-curricular endeavors working for and toward the empowerment of less fortunate people. Throughout these experiences, I not only followed the well-beaten path of those who came before me, but also took initiative through both thought and praxis, all the while guided by my moral/ethical imperative to help others. That is to say, I was recognized as the most outspoken student at the college, regarding issues of local community relations (involving the low-income Latino population of Gettysburg) and their larger social causes and implications. Concurrent with my spoken word, I took action in the local community through direct interaction with the community members to identify practical, daily needs and address them as quickly and as effectively as possible. I feel that my quality secondary and collegiate education have provided me with the foundation to be a good lawyer, but it is my zealous commitment to my community that will make me a great lawyer.
My volunteer and work experience with disadvantaged Latino communities in both Gettysburg and Philadelphia provides me with the practical tools necessary to excel in public interest law. However, when all is said and done, it is my passionate commitment and unique sensitivity which will set me apart from all the rest. In this, I have no doubt.
These wider personal goals stem largely from my background as a Latino. As the fastest growing sector of the American population, Latinos are significantly impacting our nation’s culture and social structure. Nevertheless, due to racism, cultural differences and language barriers, much of the Latino community is disadvantaged and under-represented. At Gettysburg, I demonstrated my commitment to addressing these problems faced by the Latino community through various public service endeavors. For example, as Program Coordinator of Latino and Migrant Farmworker Issues at the Center for Public Service, my responsibilities all worked toward the goals of empowering, individually and collectively, an under-represented community and providing opportunities for intercultural dialogue.
Additionally, for the past two springs, I volunteered as a tax preparer at the PLA/VIP low-income tax clinic in southern Chester County, Pennsylvania, serving the needs of the large Mexican community there, which had previously been victim to unscrupulous private tax preparers. This experience is included in the enclosed list of public service activities.
With my educational foundation and passion for serving the community, I have applied to Temple University Beasley School of Law in hopes of becoming a great lawyer. I respect Temple’s renowned commitment to public service and community development. The Beasley School of Law has exemplified its commitment to the objective above through its Clinical Programs, including the Center for Community and Non-Profit Organizations and the Temple Legal Aid Office. Additionally, the Office of Public Interest Law Programs provides numerous opportunities, through such programs as Temple-LEAP and VITA. This demonstrated commitment is complementary to my own personal and professional goals, which culminate in becoming a highly-respected and professional lawyer working for the empowerment of disadvantaged and under-represented communities.
Currently, as a paralegal at Philadelphia Legal Assistance, I have used my language abilities and immediate cultural connection to provide more effective legal services to the Latino population of Philadelphia. Through my position, I provide legal services to the low-income, underprivileged communities of our city, of which our clientele consists primarily of Latino and African-American women. In just over a year as a paralegal, I have attained a high degree of proficiency in my field of work and professional responsibilities. However, I have reached a point in my professional development where I feel that my abilities are needed beyond those services provided through my position as a paralegal. Time after time, my clients ask me to represent them in court because of my clarity in preparing them for a conference or hearing.
Substantively, I write complex legal pleadings that many first-year lawyers may not even be expected to write. All in all, I have followed the exceptional example set by the lawyers with whom I work, and I have come to a point where I feel not only prepared, but impelled to take my commitment to my clients and the disadvantaged community from which they come to the next level: as a great lawyer. All that stands between my goals and me is the quality legal education which I hope to receive at Temple University. If I am so fortunate to be accepted into the Beasley School of Law, I am confident that I will demonstrate my abilities as a Temple law student, and with that experience, continue to excel as a Temple lawyer.
If I can provide any other information, please do not hesitate to contact me via email at [xxxxxx]@philalegal.org or by telephone at (215) 981-3863 during daytime hours. Your time and consideration is greatly appreciated.
Most sincerely,
[Frank E. Speaks]
Temple University
Beasley School of Law
Admissions Committee
1719 North Broad Street
Philadelphia, PA 19122
Dear Sir or Madam:
I am writing to inform you that I am committed to being a member of this fall’s entering class at Temple University Beasley School of Law and hope that I will be accepted.
I want to be a lawyer because I want help people. Due to such factors as poverty, racism, and gender inequality, there are many groups of people who are disadvantaged. I have been fortunate to have gained a quality education thus far, beginning at a public high school and then through a scholarship to a respected liberal arts college. Once there, my strong work ethic, coupled with a strong desire to help others, lead me into several extra-curricular endeavors working for and toward the empowerment of less fortunate people. Throughout these experiences, I not only followed the well-beaten path of those who came before me, but also took initiative through both thought and praxis, all the while guided by my moral/ethical imperative to help others. That is to say, I was recognized as the most outspoken student at the college, regarding issues of local community relations (involving the low-income Latino population of Gettysburg) and their larger social causes and implications. Concurrent with my spoken word, I took action in the local community through direct interaction with the community members to identify practical, daily needs and address them as quickly and as effectively as possible. I feel that my quality secondary and collegiate education have provided me with the foundation to be a good lawyer, but it is my zealous commitment to my community that will make me a great lawyer.
My volunteer and work experience with disadvantaged Latino communities in both Gettysburg and Philadelphia provides me with the practical tools necessary to excel in public interest law. However, when all is said and done, it is my passionate commitment and unique sensitivity which will set me apart from all the rest. In this, I have no doubt.
These wider personal goals stem largely from my background as a Latino. As the fastest growing sector of the American population, Latinos are significantly impacting our nation’s culture and social structure. Nevertheless, due to racism, cultural differences and language barriers, much of the Latino community is disadvantaged and under-represented. At Gettysburg, I demonstrated my commitment to addressing these problems faced by the Latino community through various public service endeavors. For example, as Program Coordinator of Latino and Migrant Farmworker Issues at the Center for Public Service, my responsibilities all worked toward the goals of empowering, individually and collectively, an under-represented community and providing opportunities for intercultural dialogue.
Additionally, for the past two springs, I volunteered as a tax preparer at the PLA/VIP low-income tax clinic in southern Chester County, Pennsylvania, serving the needs of the large Mexican community there, which had previously been victim to unscrupulous private tax preparers. This experience is included in the enclosed list of public service activities.
With my educational foundation and passion for serving the community, I have applied to Temple University Beasley School of Law in hopes of becoming a great lawyer. I respect Temple’s renowned commitment to public service and community development. The Beasley School of Law has exemplified its commitment to the objective above through its Clinical Programs, including the Center for Community and Non-Profit Organizations and the Temple Legal Aid Office. Additionally, the Office of Public Interest Law Programs provides numerous opportunities, through such programs as Temple-LEAP and VITA. This demonstrated commitment is complementary to my own personal and professional goals, which culminate in becoming a highly-respected and professional lawyer working for the empowerment of disadvantaged and under-represented communities.
Currently, as a paralegal at Philadelphia Legal Assistance, I have used my language abilities and immediate cultural connection to provide more effective legal services to the Latino population of Philadelphia. Through my position, I provide legal services to the low-income, underprivileged communities of our city, of which our clientele consists primarily of Latino and African-American women. In just over a year as a paralegal, I have attained a high degree of proficiency in my field of work and professional responsibilities. However, I have reached a point in my professional development where I feel that my abilities are needed beyond those services provided through my position as a paralegal. Time after time, my clients ask me to represent them in court because of my clarity in preparing them for a conference or hearing.
Substantively, I write complex legal pleadings that many first-year lawyers may not even be expected to write. All in all, I have followed the exceptional example set by the lawyers with whom I work, and I have come to a point where I feel not only prepared, but impelled to take my commitment to my clients and the disadvantaged community from which they come to the next level: as a great lawyer. All that stands between my goals and me is the quality legal education which I hope to receive at Temple University. If I am so fortunate to be accepted into the Beasley School of Law, I am confident that I will demonstrate my abilities as a Temple law student, and with that experience, continue to excel as a Temple lawyer.
If I can provide any other information, please do not hesitate to contact me via email at [xxxxxx]@philalegal.org or by telephone at (215) 981-3863 during daytime hours. Your time and consideration is greatly appreciated.
Most sincerely,
[Frank E. Speaks]
Tuesday, March 7, 2000
Re: INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY
There is a vast gap between what is reality and what should be reality. It is a fact, as I originally stated, that many, many groups, including women, are not treated as equal citizens, but are abused by other individuals or groups who are in positions of authority. In most (if not all) advanced, industrialized nations, women are de jure equal citizens, but many times are not treated as such. The incident that I quoted comes from the Amnesty International report on Women in Prison. As already mentioned, Robin Lucus was a 29-year old African American woman who was raped in a Texas prison.
The reason I focus on women in my message to the campus is because it is International Women's Day. It is a day set aside with the express purpose of recognizing the positive contributions of women to society, while at the same time recognizing their position as a (oftentimes) disadvantaged sector of society. By focusing on women in my message, I am by no means choosing to exclude other disadvantaged, repressed sectors of society. Everyone should be treated as equal, regardless of gender, ethnicity, nationality, language, religious beliefs, political beliefs, or sexual orientation. We are all humans, each and every one of us, and we should all be recognized, treated, and respected as such.
With the two quotes I used at the end of my message, I put them there for what they say. I feel the Rage Against the Machine quote is appropriate because of my opening statement. There is an urgent need to close the gap between what reality is and what reality should be. I do not mean to say that there is only one option as to what reality should be, but I do mean to say that the basic rights of humankind should be respected and granted to all individuals by all other individuals, organizations, and governments. So I quote: "What better place than here, what better time than now." As to the Beastie Boys quote, I cannot say it any better than they did: "The disrespect to women has got to be through...I wanna offer my love and respect to the end." By using these quotes, I endorse the words they offer; I do not necessarily endorse the band itself, their other beliefs, MTV, or the bands' objectives as cultural icons. I simply agree with those particular words of advice/wisdom that they offer.
Finally, regardless of what Robin Lucus did to end up in a Texas prison, she is entitled to basic human rights. You would dare not say that what she went through was deserving because she was a prisoner. Let us put faith in the justice system to give her a just punishment. Let us not make three male inmates the 'judge, jury, and executioner.'
Also to conclude, I agree with these statements that J___ C______ makes:
1. "What people have to understand is the abuse of authority which takes place."
2. "I'm sure countless cases of abuses of this nature take place (as I'm sure any member of Amnesty International will admit) against people of all genders, races, ethnic groups, religions, home planets, etc."
3. "Rather, I look at them [women] as PEOPLE."
4. "I felt that this was too important to either be forgotten about in light of spring break or thrown on the floor of the CUB."
Finally, when Mr. C______ says: "I look forward to your backlash", I want to clarify that this is not a backlash. It is simply a response to the concerns of a fellow classmate. Only through dialogue can true understanding, and hence change, come about.
WE MUST NOT REMAIN IGNORANT.
Tighe Burns
For those interested in human rights issues, the Gettysburg College chapter of Amnesty International meets every Monday at 4:00pm at Plank Gym, room 119. All are welcome.
*************************************************************
The reason I focus on women in my message to the campus is because it is International Women's Day. It is a day set aside with the express purpose of recognizing the positive contributions of women to society, while at the same time recognizing their position as a (oftentimes) disadvantaged sector of society. By focusing on women in my message, I am by no means choosing to exclude other disadvantaged, repressed sectors of society. Everyone should be treated as equal, regardless of gender, ethnicity, nationality, language, religious beliefs, political beliefs, or sexual orientation. We are all humans, each and every one of us, and we should all be recognized, treated, and respected as such.
With the two quotes I used at the end of my message, I put them there for what they say. I feel the Rage Against the Machine quote is appropriate because of my opening statement. There is an urgent need to close the gap between what reality is and what reality should be. I do not mean to say that there is only one option as to what reality should be, but I do mean to say that the basic rights of humankind should be respected and granted to all individuals by all other individuals, organizations, and governments. So I quote: "What better place than here, what better time than now." As to the Beastie Boys quote, I cannot say it any better than they did: "The disrespect to women has got to be through...I wanna offer my love and respect to the end." By using these quotes, I endorse the words they offer; I do not necessarily endorse the band itself, their other beliefs, MTV, or the bands' objectives as cultural icons. I simply agree with those particular words of advice/wisdom that they offer.
Finally, regardless of what Robin Lucus did to end up in a Texas prison, she is entitled to basic human rights. You would dare not say that what she went through was deserving because she was a prisoner. Let us put faith in the justice system to give her a just punishment. Let us not make three male inmates the 'judge, jury, and executioner.'
Also to conclude, I agree with these statements that J___ C______ makes:
1. "What people have to understand is the abuse of authority which takes place."
2. "I'm sure countless cases of abuses of this nature take place (as I'm sure any member of Amnesty International will admit) against people of all genders, races, ethnic groups, religions, home planets, etc."
3. "Rather, I look at them [women] as PEOPLE."
4. "I felt that this was too important to either be forgotten about in light of spring break or thrown on the floor of the CUB."
Finally, when Mr. C______ says: "I look forward to your backlash", I want to clarify that this is not a backlash. It is simply a response to the concerns of a fellow classmate. Only through dialogue can true understanding, and hence change, come about.
WE MUST NOT REMAIN IGNORANT.
Tighe Burns
For those interested in human rights issues, the Gettysburg College chapter of Amnesty International meets every Monday at 4:00pm at Plank Gym, room 119. All are welcome.
*************************************************************
Monday, March 6, 2000
INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY
***************INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY***************
Women constitute half the world's population,
perform nearly two-thirds of it's work hours,
receive one-tenth of the world's income,
and own less than one-hundredth of the world's property.
September 22, 1995:
"Three male inmates entered Robin Lucus' cell, apparently given access to the isolation unit by guards. They dragged her from the cot, punching and pulling her. One pinned her down on the floor and clamped her with handcuffs; another forced open her legs; the third penetrated her. Repeatedly she was beaten, raped, and cursed. She blacked out and lost track of time. Her only memory was of the grotesque pain of being sodomized for what seemed like an eternity. In a parting shot, one of the inmates turned on his way out the door and urinated on her. At that moment, Robin, although semiconscious, recognized this inmate as the sole assailant who launched the initial attack. For days after the assault, Robin's body was weak and wracked with pain. She bled continuously from her rectum. Repeated requests for medical services were denied. Approximately two weeks later she was relocated to the women's facility. Thirty-five days after the initial attack, she finally received a medical examination."
Incidents like this happen every day in every part of the world, from the most undeveloped nation to the most advanced, industrialized nation. People everywhere are taken advantage of by those who are in positions of authority. Oftentimes discrimination and prejudice are major factors. In the case above, Robin was a 29-year old African American woman.
It is a fact that those in power will do whatever necessary to maintain the status quo and remain in power. Political leaders use their armies as a means of quelling opposition. Law enforcers wield their badge as an affirmation of their unquestionable authority. As we soon enter a new millenium, advances are common in communication, transportation, technology, and other areas. Unfortunately, it seems that 21st century values of social justice and human rights remain as those of the previous century: the century that saw gross atrocities committed in Hitler's Germany, Pinochet's Chile, and our own United States of America.
We must not remain ignorant.
"It has to start somewhere
It has to start sometime
What better place than here
What better time than now
All hell can't stop us now." - Rage Against The Machine
"I wanna say a little something that's long overdue:
The disrespect to women has got to be through.
To all the mothers and the sisters and the wives and friends,
I wanna offer my love and respect to the end." - Beastie Boys
***************INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY***************
Tighe Burns
President
Amnesty International
s399886@gettysburg.edu
717-338-9375
Women constitute half the world's population,
perform nearly two-thirds of it's work hours,
receive one-tenth of the world's income,
and own less than one-hundredth of the world's property.
September 22, 1995:
"Three male inmates entered Robin Lucus' cell, apparently given access to the isolation unit by guards. They dragged her from the cot, punching and pulling her. One pinned her down on the floor and clamped her with handcuffs; another forced open her legs; the third penetrated her. Repeatedly she was beaten, raped, and cursed. She blacked out and lost track of time. Her only memory was of the grotesque pain of being sodomized for what seemed like an eternity. In a parting shot, one of the inmates turned on his way out the door and urinated on her. At that moment, Robin, although semiconscious, recognized this inmate as the sole assailant who launched the initial attack. For days after the assault, Robin's body was weak and wracked with pain. She bled continuously from her rectum. Repeated requests for medical services were denied. Approximately two weeks later she was relocated to the women's facility. Thirty-five days after the initial attack, she finally received a medical examination."
Incidents like this happen every day in every part of the world, from the most undeveloped nation to the most advanced, industrialized nation. People everywhere are taken advantage of by those who are in positions of authority. Oftentimes discrimination and prejudice are major factors. In the case above, Robin was a 29-year old African American woman.
It is a fact that those in power will do whatever necessary to maintain the status quo and remain in power. Political leaders use their armies as a means of quelling opposition. Law enforcers wield their badge as an affirmation of their unquestionable authority. As we soon enter a new millenium, advances are common in communication, transportation, technology, and other areas. Unfortunately, it seems that 21st century values of social justice and human rights remain as those of the previous century: the century that saw gross atrocities committed in Hitler's Germany, Pinochet's Chile, and our own United States of America.
We must not remain ignorant.
"It has to start somewhere
It has to start sometime
What better place than here
What better time than now
All hell can't stop us now." - Rage Against The Machine
"I wanna say a little something that's long overdue:
The disrespect to women has got to be through.
To all the mothers and the sisters and the wives and friends,
I wanna offer my love and respect to the end." - Beastie Boys
***************INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY***************
Tighe Burns
President
Amnesty International
s399886@gettysburg.edu
717-338-9375
Monday, January 17, 2000
San Salvador, El Salvador
I have set foot on three of the seven countries of Central America: Costa Rica, Nicaragua, El Salvador. At some point, I am certain I will visit the remaining four.
In terms of literature, I just finished reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. At times, it was a difficult book to read. It did present a number of questions and observations concerning authority and the institution, as well as ideas of culture and language, relationships and friendships.
Now, as I was flying over Nicaragua and into El Salvador, I began reading Revolution in the Revolution? Armed Struggle and Political Struggle in Latin America by Regis Debray. The author was arrested on April 20, 1967 in Bolivia under charges of aiding guerrilla insurgents under the command of Che Guevara. The book, written originally in French (Revolution dans la revolution?) should be enlightening.
In terms of literature, I just finished reading A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. At times, it was a difficult book to read. It did present a number of questions and observations concerning authority and the institution, as well as ideas of culture and language, relationships and friendships.
Now, as I was flying over Nicaragua and into El Salvador, I began reading Revolution in the Revolution? Armed Struggle and Political Struggle in Latin America by Regis Debray. The author was arrested on April 20, 1967 in Bolivia under charges of aiding guerrilla insurgents under the command of Che Guevara. The book, written originally in French (Revolution dans la revolution?) should be enlightening.
Managua, Nicaragua
As I write this, our small, shoddy plane is preparing for take-off. I am now leaving Nicaragua; like a two-sided coin and like almost everything in life, it is both good and bad. I got my last taste of Nicaraguan beer this morning: one Tona and two Victoria. Farewell for now. One day I shall be back . . . Now, Let the journey begin!
Managua, Nicaragua
Sunday night in Managua. A cool, pleasant breeze calmly caressing the palm trees. Seated at an outdoor patio with a group of twelve, everyone merry as the trip is all but completed. Light-hearted and jovial conversation across the table, each and every one in high spirits. The flickering of the three candles subtly created intimate shadows. To top it all off, we ate to the neoimperialistic sounds of popular American music. I must admit, though, that I enjoyed it. I surmise that it was our tour guides' intention to cushion the retro-culture shock of returning to the United States. Whether or not that is true, I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
I began my meal with a Margarita, then a Papaya con leche; dinner was mignon de res con dos salsas along with an utterly delicious Daiquiri. I helped finish off someone's plate of Ravioli con berenjena and completed my meal with a Torta de frutas mixtas con helado de coco: absolutely amazing, everyone had a bite and raved, surely an award for my taste buds after the past two weeks.
On my way out, I purchased a Pucho cigar, which I will probably enjoy just before leaving tomorrow morning. An observation I made at dinner was the abundance of colorful, natural murals in Nicaragua. It serves to reflect the richness and vibrance of life here, even despite being the poorest (economically speaking) country in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti.
Earlier this afternoon, after going to the crafts market at Masaya (bought t-shirts and postcards) and the Masaya Volcano National Park, we attended a people's mass at Batahola Norte, a barrio of Managua. The priests gave their sermons and preached in front of a giant, colorful, historical mural in an outdoor, open-air auditorium. Historical figures depicted in the mural were Ernesto 'Che' Guevara, Augusto Cesar Sandino, Carlos Fonseca Amador, and Oscar Romero. Also, 1992 Nobel Peace Prize winner Rigoberta Menchu was drawn on another wall.
Before the mass, I had to speak to the church audience in order to introduce the delegation from Gettysburg. Speaking Spanish in front of over 100 people was a bit imposing, but I did fine. I was able to say what I needed and wanted to say, just not with a flowing, fluent Nicaraguan (or any other country) accent. Nevertheless, I successfully represented the group.
The service itself was excellent. Instead of the pessimistic organs normal in most churches, a choir with a xylophone, guitars, and recorders played music. The hymns were songs with a touch of liberation theology, the religion of the poor. God was portrayed as a worker, an architect, an engineer, an artisan, a carpenter, a mason: a poor campesino. Then, at one point, audience members were encouraged to make a statement as a prayer for liberation, peace, love, equality, truth . . .
Finally, as mass was ending, the priests took off their religious garb to present themselves as average Nicaraguans, at an equal level with their fellow paisanos, and all others in the audience. The subject of one of the priest's sermon was globalization! Absolutely astounding.
Well, as it is getting somewhat late, I will wrap this up. Looking forward to tomorrow, I am both regretful and happy. I am sad and regretful for not having had a better time here in Nicaragua. No doubt I made friends and created many good memories, but due to various circumstances, I did not enjoy my visit to the fullest. Number one was the feeling of being tied down and held back. I am independent and I despise being told what to do. I am fully capable of leading my life, choosing my own trails (Talolinga), and creating my own adventures.
In looking forward to tomorrow, I am happy and excited to be returning to the education and work I am interested in. Besides this, I will admit that I am eager to have fun and return to my social life at Gettysburg. It is due time to depart Nicaragua; it surely made an impression on me. I can say with fair certainty that I will return one day, perhaps on motorcycle or perhaps on plane.
So, in closing, I say "Hasta La Proxima"!!!
I began my meal with a Margarita, then a Papaya con leche; dinner was mignon de res con dos salsas along with an utterly delicious Daiquiri. I helped finish off someone's plate of Ravioli con berenjena and completed my meal with a Torta de frutas mixtas con helado de coco: absolutely amazing, everyone had a bite and raved, surely an award for my taste buds after the past two weeks.
On my way out, I purchased a Pucho cigar, which I will probably enjoy just before leaving tomorrow morning. An observation I made at dinner was the abundance of colorful, natural murals in Nicaragua. It serves to reflect the richness and vibrance of life here, even despite being the poorest (economically speaking) country in the Western Hemisphere, after Haiti.
Earlier this afternoon, after going to the crafts market at Masaya (bought t-shirts and postcards) and the Masaya Volcano National Park, we attended a people's mass at Batahola Norte, a barrio of Managua. The priests gave their sermons and preached in front of a giant, colorful, historical mural in an outdoor, open-air auditorium. Historical figures depicted in the mural were Ernesto 'Che' Guevara, Augusto Cesar Sandino, Carlos Fonseca Amador, and Oscar Romero. Also, 1992 Nobel Peace Prize winner Rigoberta Menchu was drawn on another wall.
Before the mass, I had to speak to the church audience in order to introduce the delegation from Gettysburg. Speaking Spanish in front of over 100 people was a bit imposing, but I did fine. I was able to say what I needed and wanted to say, just not with a flowing, fluent Nicaraguan (or any other country) accent. Nevertheless, I successfully represented the group.
The service itself was excellent. Instead of the pessimistic organs normal in most churches, a choir with a xylophone, guitars, and recorders played music. The hymns were songs with a touch of liberation theology, the religion of the poor. God was portrayed as a worker, an architect, an engineer, an artisan, a carpenter, a mason: a poor campesino. Then, at one point, audience members were encouraged to make a statement as a prayer for liberation, peace, love, equality, truth . . .
Finally, as mass was ending, the priests took off their religious garb to present themselves as average Nicaraguans, at an equal level with their fellow paisanos, and all others in the audience. The subject of one of the priest's sermon was globalization! Absolutely astounding.
Well, as it is getting somewhat late, I will wrap this up. Looking forward to tomorrow, I am both regretful and happy. I am sad and regretful for not having had a better time here in Nicaragua. No doubt I made friends and created many good memories, but due to various circumstances, I did not enjoy my visit to the fullest. Number one was the feeling of being tied down and held back. I am independent and I despise being told what to do. I am fully capable of leading my life, choosing my own trails (Talolinga), and creating my own adventures.
In looking forward to tomorrow, I am happy and excited to be returning to the education and work I am interested in. Besides this, I will admit that I am eager to have fun and return to my social life at Gettysburg. It is due time to depart Nicaragua; it surely made an impression on me. I can say with fair certainty that I will return one day, perhaps on motorcycle or perhaps on plane.
So, in closing, I say "Hasta La Proxima"!!!
Sunday, January 16, 2000
Managua, Nicaragua
Took one last tour of Managua. I was able to get some good photos: the Sandino silhouette, the Palacio Nacional, the old Cathedral, and a monument to the Sandinista fighter. Later, we went to an excellent Italian dinner: lasagna with meat and cheese.
Then, we went to a club: Zima. My key observation was that salsa and meringue dancing is very beautiful. I had a few Victoria's (the national beer of Nicaragua). Unfortunately, we had to leave early, around 11 pm. It was good, though, because I had a nearly 3 hour long conversation with a girl on the trip. Good bonding. It made me realize that I wish the group could have gotten together more on an informal basis, and not under the supervision of our tour guides or faculty supervisors. I wish I had gotten closer to the group. Well, after last night, I'll have at least one more familiar (and hopefully friendly) face back at school.
So, today is the last full day in Nicaragua. Today's agenda: the craft market at Masaya and then the volcano. Alright, let's get started!
Then, we went to a club: Zima. My key observation was that salsa and meringue dancing is very beautiful. I had a few Victoria's (the national beer of Nicaragua). Unfortunately, we had to leave early, around 11 pm. It was good, though, because I had a nearly 3 hour long conversation with a girl on the trip. Good bonding. It made me realize that I wish the group could have gotten together more on an informal basis, and not under the supervision of our tour guides or faculty supervisors. I wish I had gotten closer to the group. Well, after last night, I'll have at least one more familiar (and hopefully friendly) face back at school.
So, today is the last full day in Nicaragua. Today's agenda: the craft market at Masaya and then the volcano. Alright, let's get started!
Saturday, January 15, 2000
Managua, Nicaragua
At a base level, it is amusing, but at a deeper level, it is both disturbing and infuriating that many people cannot handle honesty. My natural character is to be honest, even if it is blunt and hurtful. In the end, honesty brings truth, which is how life should be lived: in an atmosphere of truth, not one of illusions, blasphemy, or imaginations.
This afternoon, I made a comment to one of our beloved tour guides that she broke a promise. She responded the only way she knew how: immaturely, by calling me a "smart-ass." I replied by saying I was only pointing out a truth. She had nothing to say of course.
Well, I am now back in Managua, having toured Leon one last time this morning. After our departure from Felipe Santana, we visited a children's school to look at and purchase artwork. The beauty of this country shines brightly through the art of its children. Later, I played the rold of tourist, as I took many photos in downtown Leon.
Now, I am happily here in Casa Fiedler in Managua. One step at a time.
This afternoon, I made a comment to one of our beloved tour guides that she broke a promise. She responded the only way she knew how: immaturely, by calling me a "smart-ass." I replied by saying I was only pointing out a truth. She had nothing to say of course.
Well, I am now back in Managua, having toured Leon one last time this morning. After our departure from Felipe Santana, we visited a children's school to look at and purchase artwork. The beauty of this country shines brightly through the art of its children. Later, I played the rold of tourist, as I took many photos in downtown Leon.
Now, I am happily here in Casa Fiedler in Managua. One step at a time.
Friday, January 14, 2000
Leon, Nicaragua
Dancing. Dancing. Dancing. I was livin' la vida loca. I danced non-stop for nearly three hours. Two gigantonas came to dance for us. Two girls each danced separately then. The pinata was broken. Dinner was delicious: chicken in a sweet & sour sauce with peas and carrots, white rice, cucumbers, beets, and lettuce, and white bread. To end a good night, I danced to popular Latin music and with various Nicaraguan girls, young and old, for about three hours. My time in Felipe Santana, Leon, Nicaragua is done. We leave sometime after 8:15 am tomorrow morning. One final tour of Leon before heading off to the capital city Managua. What I loved most aout Fel. San: the children.
Leon, Nicaragua
I am just about ready for the despedida fiesta. All I have left is to put on a shirt, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. I am happy for two reasons: 1. in just a little bit, I will be dancing, singing, laughing, and merrymaking, 2. this part of the trip is over. That is not to say that my stay in Felipe Santana has been that bad; I am just ready to move on.
Last night, I got pretty tipsy off of 9 Tona beers. It was nice to temporarily put behind all my worries and problems and most of my thoughts. There are definitely times when substance-induced enchantments are necessary.
This morning, the delegation met with a women's activist and with a university student. Both meetings were interesting. The woman, a worker for Promujer, answered many questions on discrimination, opportunities, machismo, marianismo, politics, religion, and development.
The university student of UNAN was involved with the 6% struggle, in which 6% of the national budget is supposed to, but doesn't, go to education. He was a student of law, focusing on agricultural law and environmental law. I asked a number of questions concerning history, education, politics, and tactics. I also cited the student strikes of Mexico. Afterwards, I spoke for a number of minutes with him, and then again at lunch. This provided me a chance for self-reflection. I looked inwards to ascertain various personal viewpoints and I looked outward to examine what role I can play to impact this world and its issues.
On the way back to Felipe Santana, I took a photo of a mural of Ruben Dario, Che Guevara, and Carlos Fonseca. I am glad to have seen the mural. The past serves to reinforce the present and to encourage the future.
This afternoon, I did volunteer work by painting houses in the community for about three hours. So now I sit here in the bottom bunk of a childsize bunkbed surrounded by Third World modesty thinking of the future. One step at a time. One step at a time. Right now, next on my platter is the fiesta. I will deal with social change when the time is right.
Before closing this, I will briefly explain the loan program of Promujer. Promujer loans out money to groups of 25-35 women. Each woman must pay back the loan every 4 months, plus interest of a 3% rate. If a woman cannot pay back her loan, then the rest of the group fronts the money. Then, due to social pressures, the woman is obligated to pay back her companeras. These community loan programs are expected to last for four years, at which time the community and each woman should be well-established and confident to move forward and progress.
Bueno . . . Time for LIVIN'!!!
Last night, I got pretty tipsy off of 9 Tona beers. It was nice to temporarily put behind all my worries and problems and most of my thoughts. There are definitely times when substance-induced enchantments are necessary.
This morning, the delegation met with a women's activist and with a university student. Both meetings were interesting. The woman, a worker for Promujer, answered many questions on discrimination, opportunities, machismo, marianismo, politics, religion, and development.
The university student of UNAN was involved with the 6% struggle, in which 6% of the national budget is supposed to, but doesn't, go to education. He was a student of law, focusing on agricultural law and environmental law. I asked a number of questions concerning history, education, politics, and tactics. I also cited the student strikes of Mexico. Afterwards, I spoke for a number of minutes with him, and then again at lunch. This provided me a chance for self-reflection. I looked inwards to ascertain various personal viewpoints and I looked outward to examine what role I can play to impact this world and its issues.
On the way back to Felipe Santana, I took a photo of a mural of Ruben Dario, Che Guevara, and Carlos Fonseca. I am glad to have seen the mural. The past serves to reinforce the present and to encourage the future.
This afternoon, I did volunteer work by painting houses in the community for about three hours. So now I sit here in the bottom bunk of a childsize bunkbed surrounded by Third World modesty thinking of the future. One step at a time. One step at a time. Right now, next on my platter is the fiesta. I will deal with social change when the time is right.
Before closing this, I will briefly explain the loan program of Promujer. Promujer loans out money to groups of 25-35 women. Each woman must pay back the loan every 4 months, plus interest of a 3% rate. If a woman cannot pay back her loan, then the rest of the group fronts the money. Then, due to social pressures, the woman is obligated to pay back her companeras. These community loan programs are expected to last for four years, at which time the community and each woman should be well-established and confident to move forward and progress.
Bueno . . . Time for LIVIN'!!!
Thursday, January 13, 2000
Poneloya, Nicaragua
Eternal. Inconsequent. These two ideas are dominating my thoughts as I sit here on the beach gazing out on the Pacific. Eternal: the ocean, the clouds, the sand, the cliffs, the SUN. Inconsequent: ME, and every other life-form sharing this existence with ME. Just as a grain of sand is an inconsequential part of the beach, or as a drop of water is an inconsequential part of the ocean, so am I an inconsequential part of humanity. Or am I???
If by some force, some impetus, all the grains of sand or all the drops of water collectively worked together to achieve some common goal, a huge, insuperable force will have been created. So, by the same manner, if every part of humanity, every man and woman, worked together collectively to achieve some common goal, a huge, insuperable force will have been created. The true mystery remains, however, in finding the impetus for that collectivization, that bringing together of humankind.
Just as every empire has fallen, there are two key components. Social systems fall apart due to internal strife and external pressures. Likewise, for a global community to form, there must be internal and external forces. Unfortunately, this almost improbably means catastrophe, which assumes that catastrophic, traumatic effects will continue for too long to provide an opportunity for stable collectivization. Despite, the logic, reasoning, and goodwill of humankind should, and must, suffice to make up this difference. Internal and external causes will most likely be needed to provide the spark, but those intangible qualities which humankind has been blessed with will complete the total instigative force. I am convinced that this world and its people can live in peace and can live equally. Every one has to want it, desire it in his/her own heart and mind. To achieve this mentality, education and communication of the highest degree are necessary. Then, in the institution of the new society, equality of the highest degree is absolutely requisite. One day it shall be. It MUST. One day it shall be . . .
Before closing this entry, I must remark an a young boy who just approached me for one cordoba. Of course I gave him nothing, as everyone should earn, in one form or another, his/her earnings. But, it saddens me that the present order creates a reality in which people have to lower themselves to beggars. I told the boy that I could see in his eyes that he was intelligent. He walked away. Perhaps he construed it as my acknowledging his begging as a business, and not true 'begging.' Either way, not one person should ever have to lower themselves. We are all equals. Every soul is equally valuable. Therefore, the house of each soul should be treated as such . . .
One final thought: a ladybug has landed on my leg as I write this and the SUN shines brightly.
If by some force, some impetus, all the grains of sand or all the drops of water collectively worked together to achieve some common goal, a huge, insuperable force will have been created. So, by the same manner, if every part of humanity, every man and woman, worked together collectively to achieve some common goal, a huge, insuperable force will have been created. The true mystery remains, however, in finding the impetus for that collectivization, that bringing together of humankind.
Just as every empire has fallen, there are two key components. Social systems fall apart due to internal strife and external pressures. Likewise, for a global community to form, there must be internal and external forces. Unfortunately, this almost improbably means catastrophe, which assumes that catastrophic, traumatic effects will continue for too long to provide an opportunity for stable collectivization. Despite, the logic, reasoning, and goodwill of humankind should, and must, suffice to make up this difference. Internal and external causes will most likely be needed to provide the spark, but those intangible qualities which humankind has been blessed with will complete the total instigative force. I am convinced that this world and its people can live in peace and can live equally. Every one has to want it, desire it in his/her own heart and mind. To achieve this mentality, education and communication of the highest degree are necessary. Then, in the institution of the new society, equality of the highest degree is absolutely requisite. One day it shall be. It MUST. One day it shall be . . .
Before closing this entry, I must remark an a young boy who just approached me for one cordoba. Of course I gave him nothing, as everyone should earn, in one form or another, his/her earnings. But, it saddens me that the present order creates a reality in which people have to lower themselves to beggars. I told the boy that I could see in his eyes that he was intelligent. He walked away. Perhaps he construed it as my acknowledging his begging as a business, and not true 'begging.' Either way, not one person should ever have to lower themselves. We are all equals. Every soul is equally valuable. Therefore, the house of each soul should be treated as such . . .
One final thought: a ladybug has landed on my leg as I write this and the SUN shines brightly.
Wednesday, January 12, 2000
Leon, Nicaragua
It was interesting. There were several acts to the presentation. The first was a young man who sang two songs: a traditional, national song of Nicaragua written by a Nicaraguan composer and a song against drugs written by himself. Both songs were good.
The next act was two teenage girls on stilts. They danced to "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd. The dancing was good. The third act was two young men performing an instrumental act. One played guitar, while the other played mandolin. This was also done very well. The fourth act was five young children shaking cardboard cut-outs of children to more contemporary Latino music. The fifth act was "el viejo and la vieja." It was a very comical act in which an old man and an old woman basically flirted with each other and with members of the audience.
The final act was a 'gigantona,' a 'pepe,' and the accompanying band of snare and bass drums. That was an incredible act, as the origins of the gigantona were, and continue to be to a certain degree, a form of protest against the government. Originally, it was to protest against the colonial rule of Spain over Latin America.
This afternoon, I went to the market with four of the girls. Besides cutting the leash again for a short period of time, the highlight was bargaining for a dress for one of the girls. It was listed at 350 cordobas; I offerred 300 cordobas; the shopowner lowered to 330; I offerred 315; finally, we settled at 320 cordobas. It was fun. I was happy to have finally immersed myself in the urban culture of Leon, Nicaragua. Prior to this afternoon, we had not been allowed to do so, even though we are all adults. Being 22 years of age and nearly fluent in Spanish should give me the right to explore.
I can say, without hesitation, that today, from the moment I woke until the moment I slept, was my best day in Nicaragua. With luck and hope, the remainder of the trip may prove to be tolerable, or who knows? maybe even fun. If not, I can always dream, which is what I will do right now!
The next act was two teenage girls on stilts. They danced to "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd. The dancing was good. The third act was two young men performing an instrumental act. One played guitar, while the other played mandolin. This was also done very well. The fourth act was five young children shaking cardboard cut-outs of children to more contemporary Latino music. The fifth act was "el viejo and la vieja." It was a very comical act in which an old man and an old woman basically flirted with each other and with members of the audience.
The final act was a 'gigantona,' a 'pepe,' and the accompanying band of snare and bass drums. That was an incredible act, as the origins of the gigantona were, and continue to be to a certain degree, a form of protest against the government. Originally, it was to protest against the colonial rule of Spain over Latin America.
This afternoon, I went to the market with four of the girls. Besides cutting the leash again for a short period of time, the highlight was bargaining for a dress for one of the girls. It was listed at 350 cordobas; I offerred 300 cordobas; the shopowner lowered to 330; I offerred 315; finally, we settled at 320 cordobas. It was fun. I was happy to have finally immersed myself in the urban culture of Leon, Nicaragua. Prior to this afternoon, we had not been allowed to do so, even though we are all adults. Being 22 years of age and nearly fluent in Spanish should give me the right to explore.
I can say, without hesitation, that today, from the moment I woke until the moment I slept, was my best day in Nicaragua. With luck and hope, the remainder of the trip may prove to be tolerable, or who knows? maybe even fun. If not, I can always dream, which is what I will do right now!
Leon, Nicaragua
"Obras . . . No Palabras" : Works . . . Not Words. I just saw a commercial on television proclaiming the motto of President Arnoldo Aleman's government. It seems quite contradictory, though, that the money spent to spread the "word" of the government through commercials and billboards is not spent on public "works" by the government. It is ashamed that government has to be such a business instead of being a service.
Now, to reflect on today's events. Today has probably been the best day since I've been here in Nicaragua. Partly to be different from the rest of the group and partly because it was cooler, I moved my cot to sleep outdoors. I slept fairly well. I woke to the squeals of hungry pigs literally under my cot. That was at 6:15 am.
I got up to eat a breakfast of some rice, beans, and a tortilla. Afterwards, the group was led up the mountain a bit to a water receptacle, which collected water from a mountain spring. We were taken on a tour of the small town, where we saw a community health center and the town playground. What seems backwards is that money was spent to build a playground when there are only ten latrines for a community of over 360 inhabitants. The logic of these rural people, and the international projects that support them, seems mixed-up sometimes.
Well, dinner is now being served, so I will take a quick intermission before returning to finish this entry . . .
Well, dinner was fine: rice, beans, and a beef/potato mix. The latter was excellent. I really miss ground beef.
Right now, it is just about 7 pm. This means that I have to leave shortly for a 'cultural night.' It should be interesting.
Now, to reflect on today's events. Today has probably been the best day since I've been here in Nicaragua. Partly to be different from the rest of the group and partly because it was cooler, I moved my cot to sleep outdoors. I slept fairly well. I woke to the squeals of hungry pigs literally under my cot. That was at 6:15 am.
I got up to eat a breakfast of some rice, beans, and a tortilla. Afterwards, the group was led up the mountain a bit to a water receptacle, which collected water from a mountain spring. We were taken on a tour of the small town, where we saw a community health center and the town playground. What seems backwards is that money was spent to build a playground when there are only ten latrines for a community of over 360 inhabitants. The logic of these rural people, and the international projects that support them, seems mixed-up sometimes.
Well, dinner is now being served, so I will take a quick intermission before returning to finish this entry . . .
Well, dinner was fine: rice, beans, and a beef/potato mix. The latter was excellent. I really miss ground beef.
Right now, it is just about 7 pm. This means that I have to leave shortly for a 'cultural night.' It should be interesting.
Tuesday, January 11, 2000
Talolinga, Nicaragua
Well, I anticipate this entry to be a very short one. I will be brief and to the point.
I very much dislike one of our "tour guides." She has been subtly confrontational and overwhelmingly dominating. Her supposed expertise of the Nicaraguan culture and language has led her to an illusionary state of superiority. One thing that I utterly cannot deal with is someone who holds a position of undeserved authority. I feel that she has placed us on a leash no longer than my thumb.
I rode a horse today for almost 45 minutes during the first part of the ascent from Santa Rosa del Penon to Talolinga. After I dismounted, I walked as fast as possible to escape the group. I succeeded in doing so very quickly. For the first time, I was not a part of a machine being driven by some false authority. I was seen as just some other visitor to Talolinga. I stopped to get directions from an old lady, got directions from several passers-by, stopped at the edge of town for a drink of water, and beat the group by at least 15 minutes to relax and get a drink of fresco.
Unfortunately, soon afterwards, the leash was retied. At this point, I have relegated myself to living in the shadows and getting by. One has to pick his own battles wisely. Regardless of my attitude, I am here for six more days. I would rather be quiet and reserve myself to my own inner world, retreat to my own inner soul, then to complain about every last detail. I am very much looking forward to returning home to Gettysburg.
I very much dislike one of our "tour guides." She has been subtly confrontational and overwhelmingly dominating. Her supposed expertise of the Nicaraguan culture and language has led her to an illusionary state of superiority. One thing that I utterly cannot deal with is someone who holds a position of undeserved authority. I feel that she has placed us on a leash no longer than my thumb.
I rode a horse today for almost 45 minutes during the first part of the ascent from Santa Rosa del Penon to Talolinga. After I dismounted, I walked as fast as possible to escape the group. I succeeded in doing so very quickly. For the first time, I was not a part of a machine being driven by some false authority. I was seen as just some other visitor to Talolinga. I stopped to get directions from an old lady, got directions from several passers-by, stopped at the edge of town for a drink of water, and beat the group by at least 15 minutes to relax and get a drink of fresco.
Unfortunately, soon afterwards, the leash was retied. At this point, I have relegated myself to living in the shadows and getting by. One has to pick his own battles wisely. Regardless of my attitude, I am here for six more days. I would rather be quiet and reserve myself to my own inner world, retreat to my own inner soul, then to complain about every last detail. I am very much looking forward to returning home to Gettysburg.
Sunday, January 9, 2000
Leon, Nicaragua
The bug bites on my socks and underwear regions are turning my life into a living hell. I can't help but think how nice it would be to take a nice, long shower and hop into my bed in Gettysburg. It may just be exhaustion or just plain being tired, but I want nothing but an uninterrupted, deep sleep of at least eight hours. Besides missing the privacy and comfortability of my home in Gettysburg, I very much miss my responsibilities, as well as that special someone.
I would love to elaborate on today's events, including a self-evaluating and group-assessing reflection, but I am just too out of it. So, now I wil remind myself to mention Ramon, el Fortin, el Catedral, the mural of Nicaraguan history, and the group's reflection at the air-conditioned ice cream shop. I may also want to touch on the morning presentation, the history and organization of Felipe Santana, and my evening playing cards with the children of the barrio.
Of course, I wish I didn't feel this way; nothing hurts, but I am uncomfortable both physically and mentally. Despite being with a group, I remain a bit separated. I am a very independent person quite often, but at the same time I miss someone to talk to. At this point, I can only wish myself the best (as always) and hope that the rest of my stay in Nicaragua is at least tolerable, if not pleasant.
I would love to elaborate on today's events, including a self-evaluating and group-assessing reflection, but I am just too out of it. So, now I wil remind myself to mention Ramon, el Fortin, el Catedral, the mural of Nicaraguan history, and the group's reflection at the air-conditioned ice cream shop. I may also want to touch on the morning presentation, the history and organization of Felipe Santana, and my evening playing cards with the children of the barrio.
Of course, I wish I didn't feel this way; nothing hurts, but I am uncomfortable both physically and mentally. Despite being with a group, I remain a bit separated. I am a very independent person quite often, but at the same time I miss someone to talk to. At this point, I can only wish myself the best (as always) and hope that the rest of my stay in Nicaragua is at least tolerable, if not pleasant.
Saturday, January 8, 2000
Leon, Nicaragua
I am now in the Felipe Santana barrio of Leon. There are some apparent pro's and con's in comparison to Las Mesas. First, there is electricity, running water within the home, and a fenced-in shower right out back. Secondly, though, it is much hotter and the mosquitoes are abundant. Where I was nearly freezing to death in the mountains, here I can sleep without any covers. This, however, leaves me prey to the vicious blood-sucking mosquitoes. I've been told before by many ladies that I am very sweet; if I didn't believe it before, then now I'll take the word of the 'sancudos.'
OK, I just saw a spider of about 3 inches in length. Add this to the list of cons. I am now a bit apprehensive of falling asleep here. I've donated blood before, but always voluntarily and for a good cause. Here, I may not have a choice.
Also, another minor worry is an inch-long gash on my left foot that is already filled with dirt. I'll shower tomorrow morning before going to mass with the group, but as is my custom here, I don't plan on wearing socks. With luck, I hope to return to the U.S. without any infections. I am now very grateful of my work on the golf course for giving me some kind of immunity to bugs. When I visited Costa Rica in the summer of '98, I was left virtually untouched by mosquitoes and other outdoor critters. Now, after a semester of being indoors 90% of the time, I am just another gringo with sugar running through my veins.
This is my fifth night here in Nicaragua; it has been day 5 of 14. I cannot believe that it is not even half over. I feel as if I have been here for at least a week already. Although it is important to face third world realities in person periodically, I have seen little of anything that I have not already seen before.
I very much miss the United States. I must clarify that it has little to do with the standard of living or the living conditions (although I could do without the fleas and mosquitoes); I really miss my close friends and loved ones. I am here in a foreign country with eight others whom I am not very close to nor do I necessarily wish to be. I am desperately awaiting the moment I return to Gettysburg and am anticipating that first warm embrace from that special someone.
A few words on today: the despedida went well. I will always think fondly of Las Mesas and will forever appreciate the coffee-making/producing process anytime I drink a cup of coffee.
I was very much impressed at the level of organization in Las Mesas. There were obvious remnants of the Sandinista political mentality in the rural village. A political hierarchy had been arranged with a President, a vice-President, and other positions as well. There was a Men's organization, a Women's organization, and a Youth group. There was a community house and definitive plans for future projects. Past projects include installation of the latrines, building of durable roofs and walls, building of the community center, and installation of outdoor running water tapped from a mountain spring. The community of 28 families is looking towards a prosperous future due to excellent organization and capable leadership. Perhaps one day I will visit.
Now, back to the present. I look forward to this stay in Leon. With 'buena suerte,' I hope the bugs will have mercy on me. Now, with thoughts of love on my mind, I will turn my soul and body over to the world of suenos. I would say "sweet dreams" but I don't want to attract the bugs. Instead, I will just say "Buenas noches."
OK, I just saw a spider of about 3 inches in length. Add this to the list of cons. I am now a bit apprehensive of falling asleep here. I've donated blood before, but always voluntarily and for a good cause. Here, I may not have a choice.
Also, another minor worry is an inch-long gash on my left foot that is already filled with dirt. I'll shower tomorrow morning before going to mass with the group, but as is my custom here, I don't plan on wearing socks. With luck, I hope to return to the U.S. without any infections. I am now very grateful of my work on the golf course for giving me some kind of immunity to bugs. When I visited Costa Rica in the summer of '98, I was left virtually untouched by mosquitoes and other outdoor critters. Now, after a semester of being indoors 90% of the time, I am just another gringo with sugar running through my veins.
This is my fifth night here in Nicaragua; it has been day 5 of 14. I cannot believe that it is not even half over. I feel as if I have been here for at least a week already. Although it is important to face third world realities in person periodically, I have seen little of anything that I have not already seen before.
I very much miss the United States. I must clarify that it has little to do with the standard of living or the living conditions (although I could do without the fleas and mosquitoes); I really miss my close friends and loved ones. I am here in a foreign country with eight others whom I am not very close to nor do I necessarily wish to be. I am desperately awaiting the moment I return to Gettysburg and am anticipating that first warm embrace from that special someone.
A few words on today: the despedida went well. I will always think fondly of Las Mesas and will forever appreciate the coffee-making/producing process anytime I drink a cup of coffee.
I was very much impressed at the level of organization in Las Mesas. There were obvious remnants of the Sandinista political mentality in the rural village. A political hierarchy had been arranged with a President, a vice-President, and other positions as well. There was a Men's organization, a Women's organization, and a Youth group. There was a community house and definitive plans for future projects. Past projects include installation of the latrines, building of durable roofs and walls, building of the community center, and installation of outdoor running water tapped from a mountain spring. The community of 28 families is looking towards a prosperous future due to excellent organization and capable leadership. Perhaps one day I will visit.
Now, back to the present. I look forward to this stay in Leon. With 'buena suerte,' I hope the bugs will have mercy on me. Now, with thoughts of love on my mind, I will turn my soul and body over to the world of suenos. I would say "sweet dreams" but I don't want to attract the bugs. Instead, I will just say "Buenas noches."
Las Mesas, Nicaragua
Well, my time here in Las Mesas is almost over. It has been a memorable time for sure.
Yesterday, I awoke to meet a plateful of beans for breakfast. Needless to say, they continue to affect me at this very moment.
After the morning meal, a group of four of us climbed the mountain to pick coffee beans. We did about four hours of work, from 8 am to 12 noon. There was good conversation and the weather was pleasant. Judging from the content of most of our conversation, it is apparent who and especially what we miss from the United States. That is to say we are all typical young adults.
I finally took a shower, for the second time since I've been in Nicaragua; that was after a healthy lunch of rice, yucca, and cabbage, along with tortillas (I think I'm getting plenty of carbohydrates).
One interjection as I write this: a young Nicaraguan girl just walked by. She made me realize that smiles and laughter are truly universal.
Anyway, at about 2:30 pm, the festivities for our despedida began. First, our "tour guides" from Project Minnesota/Leon spoke as an introduction to our visit here. Much of the community of Las Mesas was present. After briefly outlining the Project, the mic, so to speak, was handed over to me. Speaking in Spanish to the community of Las Mesas, and basically improvising along the way, I introduced the nine-person delegation from Gettysburg, our reasons for being here, and our background and geography in the United States.
After speaking for about ten minutes, we then sang 'Home on the Range,' introduced ourselves individually, sang "My Sunshine," and closed with a thank you. Then, the pinata was brought out. It was fun to watch the children try to break it open. At this point, it was dark out; we ate dinner together as a delegation; and then danced the night away. I danced with a couple of girls/women before settling down to play games with the kids. By the time I got to bed, it was 9:30 pm: a late night. I slept well; dreams of being wiht someone special.
Today, as always, I am both happy and sad to leave. In such a short stay here, I made many connections. Maybe one day I will return. I won't be surprised if they remember me.
Well, now its off to Leon and the next chapter in this short jaunt to Nicaragua. Even despite a gracious compliment by one of the Nicaraguans saying that my speech/presentation was very eloquent and well-spoken, I will still take time to prepare more for the Leon presentation.
A final word before closing this entry is my lesson from this experience: Life that is simple is beautiful. It is a good feeling to be ALIVE.
Yesterday, I awoke to meet a plateful of beans for breakfast. Needless to say, they continue to affect me at this very moment.
After the morning meal, a group of four of us climbed the mountain to pick coffee beans. We did about four hours of work, from 8 am to 12 noon. There was good conversation and the weather was pleasant. Judging from the content of most of our conversation, it is apparent who and especially what we miss from the United States. That is to say we are all typical young adults.
I finally took a shower, for the second time since I've been in Nicaragua; that was after a healthy lunch of rice, yucca, and cabbage, along with tortillas (I think I'm getting plenty of carbohydrates).
One interjection as I write this: a young Nicaraguan girl just walked by. She made me realize that smiles and laughter are truly universal.
Anyway, at about 2:30 pm, the festivities for our despedida began. First, our "tour guides" from Project Minnesota/Leon spoke as an introduction to our visit here. Much of the community of Las Mesas was present. After briefly outlining the Project, the mic, so to speak, was handed over to me. Speaking in Spanish to the community of Las Mesas, and basically improvising along the way, I introduced the nine-person delegation from Gettysburg, our reasons for being here, and our background and geography in the United States.
After speaking for about ten minutes, we then sang 'Home on the Range,' introduced ourselves individually, sang "My Sunshine," and closed with a thank you. Then, the pinata was brought out. It was fun to watch the children try to break it open. At this point, it was dark out; we ate dinner together as a delegation; and then danced the night away. I danced with a couple of girls/women before settling down to play games with the kids. By the time I got to bed, it was 9:30 pm: a late night. I slept well; dreams of being wiht someone special.
Today, as always, I am both happy and sad to leave. In such a short stay here, I made many connections. Maybe one day I will return. I won't be surprised if they remember me.
Well, now its off to Leon and the next chapter in this short jaunt to Nicaragua. Even despite a gracious compliment by one of the Nicaraguans saying that my speech/presentation was very eloquent and well-spoken, I will still take time to prepare more for the Leon presentation.
A final word before closing this entry is my lesson from this experience: Life that is simple is beautiful. It is a good feeling to be ALIVE.
Thursday, January 6, 2000
Las Mesas, Nicaragua
Today has been a long day.
Due to unexpectedly cold weather (probably in the lower 50s) and my lack of any kind of sleeping gear, I lived through an arctic hell. I was lucky if I slept an hour.
Finally got out of bed at 6am (this is about the time I went to bed my second-to-last night at Gettysburg). I went out to the cornfields, walking at least two kilometers up and down rocky roads, and then through overgrown footpaths. After that, I did monotonous work for six hours cleaning and sorting corn. It is hard to believe that people don't go insane here. There is ample opportunity, though, because of time and isolation, to ponder every last subject known to mankind. In some ways this may a bad thing, but in other ways a very good thing.
These people are very proud of their village and its surroundings. I asked a farmer how he felt when woke this morning. He answered by saying that: "Tenia ganas de trabajar." That short statement exemplifies the attitude of these very modest, but proud, people.
The meals here have been wonderful: rice, beans, maguey, eggs, salsa de tomate, peppers, onions, cabbage, noodles, and lemonade and coffee for drinks. The coffee is nothing like the coffee in the United States. Here the coffee is thinner and sweeter. It almost tastes more like a juice.
The children here have become friendly and comfortable with me. They are always asking me to tickle them. It makes me feel very comfortable that they know my name and use it freely.
Today, on the fields, a gentleman asked my companion and I to accompany him. We went to see a three-toed sloth. That was very interesting.
One final thought: the panoramic view of the stars is absolutely astounding. For every one star one can see in the U.S. sky, one can see at least 25 in the Nicaraguan sky. It is utterly breathtaking.
Well, off to bed to rest up before picking coffee tomorrow. (Hopefully I won't die of hypothermia tonight!) Hasta manana!
Due to unexpectedly cold weather (probably in the lower 50s) and my lack of any kind of sleeping gear, I lived through an arctic hell. I was lucky if I slept an hour.
Finally got out of bed at 6am (this is about the time I went to bed my second-to-last night at Gettysburg). I went out to the cornfields, walking at least two kilometers up and down rocky roads, and then through overgrown footpaths. After that, I did monotonous work for six hours cleaning and sorting corn. It is hard to believe that people don't go insane here. There is ample opportunity, though, because of time and isolation, to ponder every last subject known to mankind. In some ways this may a bad thing, but in other ways a very good thing.
These people are very proud of their village and its surroundings. I asked a farmer how he felt when woke this morning. He answered by saying that: "Tenia ganas de trabajar." That short statement exemplifies the attitude of these very modest, but proud, people.
The meals here have been wonderful: rice, beans, maguey, eggs, salsa de tomate, peppers, onions, cabbage, noodles, and lemonade and coffee for drinks. The coffee is nothing like the coffee in the United States. Here the coffee is thinner and sweeter. It almost tastes more like a juice.
The children here have become friendly and comfortable with me. They are always asking me to tickle them. It makes me feel very comfortable that they know my name and use it freely.
Today, on the fields, a gentleman asked my companion and I to accompany him. We went to see a three-toed sloth. That was very interesting.
One final thought: the panoramic view of the stars is absolutely astounding. For every one star one can see in the U.S. sky, one can see at least 25 in the Nicaraguan sky. It is utterly breathtaking.
Well, off to bed to rest up before picking coffee tomorrow. (Hopefully I won't die of hypothermia tonight!) Hasta manana!
Wednesday, January 5, 2000
Las Mesas, Nicaragua
Morning was spent touring Managua. I was impressed by the Palacio Nacional, which is being funded by the government of Taiwan. I was greatly inspired by two monuments: one was the grand silhouette of Augusto Sandino standing atop a mountain over the capital city; the other was a golden soldier holding a machine gun in the air and looking skyward towards Dios. It was inscribed: "Solo los obreros y los campesinos iran hasta el fin." The Bible even says that the meek shall inherit the earth.
A bumpy two- or three-hour journey to Matagalpa was spent sleeping. I was struck by the destruction of the land as a result of Hurricane Mitch. Also touched by the large numbers of people always standing by the road and seemingly lounging around.
Arrived at Las Mesas around 1 pm and was placed with a family. I felt reasonably at home. The weather was fresco and the surroundings are beautiful. There is a magnificent vista from the dirt road leading up the mountain, which is littered by coffee plantations.
Life is simple here: no electricity or bathrooms. But in many ways life seems better. No extra worries. I definitely feel more comfortable alone than with the group of gringos.
I write this now by the light of a pocket flashlight; I am about to hit the sack since despierta is at 4 am: much different than the college schedule. I'm looking forward to tomorrow; working with the land is good for the soul.
A bumpy two- or three-hour journey to Matagalpa was spent sleeping. I was struck by the destruction of the land as a result of Hurricane Mitch. Also touched by the large numbers of people always standing by the road and seemingly lounging around.
Arrived at Las Mesas around 1 pm and was placed with a family. I felt reasonably at home. The weather was fresco and the surroundings are beautiful. There is a magnificent vista from the dirt road leading up the mountain, which is littered by coffee plantations.
Life is simple here: no electricity or bathrooms. But in many ways life seems better. No extra worries. I definitely feel more comfortable alone than with the group of gringos.
I write this now by the light of a pocket flashlight; I am about to hit the sack since despierta is at 4 am: much different than the college schedule. I'm looking forward to tomorrow; working with the land is good for the soul.
Tuesday, January 4, 2000
Managua, Nicaragua
It has been a long day: been awake since 4:50 am after having slept only one hour last night (I had a guest sleep over). I am definitely feeling the shock of being in a foreign country without any loved ones.
I am also shocked by the conditions of this developing nation; I can only imagine what the shock is for a poor, rural peasant to visit the glamour and glitz of a wealthy, suburban/urban region of a country like the United States.
On one hand, it is sickening that the group has been brought to an obviously wealthy sector of Managua. We are staying at La Casa Fiedler in el barrio El Carmen. However, on the other hand, I can understand that our hosts are trying to cushion the culture shock. The fact that I am grateful for that sickens me. At this point, I wish I was either on my own (apart from the gringos) or back in the States with my girlfriend.
A note on Nicaragua: it is very similar to its southern neighbor Costa Rica, but C.R. is slightly more modern, westernized, and developed. Here, as in C.R., there is a large informal sector of the economy. For example, today driving from the airport to La Casa Fiedler, two young boys jumped on our van to wash the front window. Afterwards, they asked: Un peso, por favor?
I am also shocked by the conditions of this developing nation; I can only imagine what the shock is for a poor, rural peasant to visit the glamour and glitz of a wealthy, suburban/urban region of a country like the United States.
On one hand, it is sickening that the group has been brought to an obviously wealthy sector of Managua. We are staying at La Casa Fiedler in el barrio El Carmen. However, on the other hand, I can understand that our hosts are trying to cushion the culture shock. The fact that I am grateful for that sickens me. At this point, I wish I was either on my own (apart from the gringos) or back in the States with my girlfriend.
A note on Nicaragua: it is very similar to its southern neighbor Costa Rica, but C.R. is slightly more modern, westernized, and developed. Here, as in C.R., there is a large informal sector of the economy. For example, today driving from the airport to La Casa Fiedler, two young boys jumped on our van to wash the front window. Afterwards, they asked: Un peso, por favor?
San Salvador, El Salvador
As I sit awaiting the departure of my flight from San Salvador to Managua, I can't help but realize how small this world really is. Leaving Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, it takes no more than a few hours to reach another part of the world. We all live under the same sun.
It seems appropriate that I begin the year 2000 by travelling to Latin America. I feel at home here: the weather, the people, and the culture. As I now leave El Salvador, I wish myself the best in this new chapter of my life; in adventure, experience, education, and love.
It seems appropriate that I begin the year 2000 by travelling to Latin America. I feel at home here: the weather, the people, and the culture. As I now leave El Salvador, I wish myself the best in this new chapter of my life; in adventure, experience, education, and love.
Wednesday, April 24, 1996
Julius Caesar
In great literature, no scene of violence exists for its own sake. This statement holds true in the famous play by William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar. In it, the chief act of violence is the assassination of Julius Caesar by Brutus and the other conspirators.
Throughout the play, as was true in history, Caesar had been gaining power as an excellent military leader and strong dictator of the people. Although he had many friends and allies, he also created many new enemies as a result of his growing might. Even within the Senate, where he was once a highly-respected man, there was malice and ill-feeling towards the powerful dictator. His growing strength frightened many people. This led to corruption and then a conspiracy against Caesar. In the climax of the play, Caesar is attacked by the Senators, including his best friend, Brutus. In a famous quote, Caesar says, "Et tu Brute?" This means "and you, Brutus?"
In those three words are explained one of the main themes of the play. It advises the audience not to trust anyone, even a best friend. It warns people to be wary of others, especially when in a position of great power. This leads to the other main message in the play: power breeds contempt in others. With every ounce of strength Caesar gained, he gained one more enemy, until at last even his best friend could not be trusted.
By providing a graphic murder of the chief protagonist in his play, Shakespeare emphasizes the themes, and, in turn, provides valuable advice to the audience. It would serve no purpose if a minor character died, since it would not affect the audience as greatly. However, it is not as if Shakespeare could choose since the play Julius Caesar is a historical / biographical drama. The history of what happened on the Ides of March: March 15, 44 B.C., gave the world a lesson. Even today's leaders must keep in mind the message that Shakespeare reminds us of in his play, Julius Caesar.
Throughout the play, as was true in history, Caesar had been gaining power as an excellent military leader and strong dictator of the people. Although he had many friends and allies, he also created many new enemies as a result of his growing might. Even within the Senate, where he was once a highly-respected man, there was malice and ill-feeling towards the powerful dictator. His growing strength frightened many people. This led to corruption and then a conspiracy against Caesar. In the climax of the play, Caesar is attacked by the Senators, including his best friend, Brutus. In a famous quote, Caesar says, "Et tu Brute?" This means "and you, Brutus?"
In those three words are explained one of the main themes of the play. It advises the audience not to trust anyone, even a best friend. It warns people to be wary of others, especially when in a position of great power. This leads to the other main message in the play: power breeds contempt in others. With every ounce of strength Caesar gained, he gained one more enemy, until at last even his best friend could not be trusted.
By providing a graphic murder of the chief protagonist in his play, Shakespeare emphasizes the themes, and, in turn, provides valuable advice to the audience. It would serve no purpose if a minor character died, since it would not affect the audience as greatly. However, it is not as if Shakespeare could choose since the play Julius Caesar is a historical / biographical drama. The history of what happened on the Ides of March: March 15, 44 B.C., gave the world a lesson. Even today's leaders must keep in mind the message that Shakespeare reminds us of in his play, Julius Caesar.
Friday, March 22, 1996
Hills vs. Lysistrata
Hills, a short story by Vasily Belov, points out how men go off to war and women stay home. This is where they die and are buried. The general message is very similar to that of Lysistrata, an ancient Greek comedy by Aristophanes. In Lysistrata, it is pointed out how women are just as able, or even more adept, at running society. Although written in two different times and in two different genres, a universal theme is presented: that women are just as apt as men, yet do not receive any credit for their contributions.
The theme of Hills is that women are forgotten after death, while men have monuments to commemorate their death and to serve as eternal reminders of their lives. This message can be found around the world, just as this attitude will not likely change soon. The theme of Lysistrata is that women are more capable than men in handling political and international affairs. Although the themes slightly differ, they both demonstrate the "underratedness," or lack of respect for the female gender throughout history. It is for this reason that the story will stand the test of time until attitudes or policies toward women change.
In Hills, I do not think the story was presented in the best possible way to deliver Belov's message. He writes a good deal about the man before he comes to the graveyard. It is finally at the graveyard that Belov presents the theme of his story. The man looks for his grandmother's grave, but there is "not a sign of her grave." Her grave is "overgrown with grass and docks," since she just as all women have virtually been forgotten in death. On the contrary, though, the man's father has a monument on Mamayev Kurgan in Volgograd where there is a Hall of Fame with his name on it. The theme is presented quite clearly, even though there is a lengthy exposition.
If Hills raises a question to women's rights, then Lysistrata answers it.
The theme of Hills is that women are forgotten after death, while men have monuments to commemorate their death and to serve as eternal reminders of their lives. This message can be found around the world, just as this attitude will not likely change soon. The theme of Lysistrata is that women are more capable than men in handling political and international affairs. Although the themes slightly differ, they both demonstrate the "underratedness," or lack of respect for the female gender throughout history. It is for this reason that the story will stand the test of time until attitudes or policies toward women change.
In Hills, I do not think the story was presented in the best possible way to deliver Belov's message. He writes a good deal about the man before he comes to the graveyard. It is finally at the graveyard that Belov presents the theme of his story. The man looks for his grandmother's grave, but there is "not a sign of her grave." Her grave is "overgrown with grass and docks," since she just as all women have virtually been forgotten in death. On the contrary, though, the man's father has a monument on Mamayev Kurgan in Volgograd where there is a Hall of Fame with his name on it. The theme is presented quite clearly, even though there is a lengthy exposition.
If Hills raises a question to women's rights, then Lysistrata answers it.
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