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.
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