ok, so here is an entry i wrote about two weeks ago but never uploaded. kind of interesting at least.


I just reviewed the first thing I typed when I arrived in tehua-york, living in faculty housing, surviving the stifling heat and staring at a future that scared the hell out of me. Seven months in and I am still unsure of a lot of things.

Last night, Friday, I participated in an interesting political debate with three political philosophy profs. Clearly, I was out of my element as the vast majority of my knowledge of mexi politics comes from third and fourth grade picture books that are issued to all students in the state of oaxaca. No matter, I weighed in and held my own fairly well. Most fun was making wild exaggerations about my friends’ preferred presidential candidate: manuel lopez obrador(amlo for short, though I forget what the A stands for). I called him a populist, and said power would corrupt him like all the rest and nothing would change. There is a presidential election in july, and many have high hopes for amlo, who would be the first president elected from the liberal prd party. Until 2000 there had not really been free elections in mexico because the conservative pri party had been in control for 70 years. If someone else won the popular vote, ni modo(too bad) the pri candidate became president. Thus the façade of democracy was little more than a chunk of ice in ixtepec in april: it promptly melted away in the light of day.

Anyway, I like to harass my friends, this much has not changed about me no matter how thin I become, and sarcasm is something that many mexis just don’t get, so I was pissing one of them off pretty good. Ni modo. He finally figured out that I was joshing him, but not before explaining to me the positives of amlo and the negatives of the other candidates, which in the end was what I really wanted. But why just ask that kind of thing when there are so many more fun ways to do it? Exactly.

I vaguely remember Cuban b haranguing me about topic sentences and thesis statements(always underline them!) so I should go back to my original thought: I remain uncertain about my future. Down here. Up there. Not surprisingly, they do go together (like wheat thins and easy cheese. Mmm. Wheat thins and easy cheese.) I was researching online the other week regarding phd programs and I stumbled upon something called a DA doctor of arts that is less concentrated than a phd in English, slightly broader in that it includes theory, history, etc. it seemed really great. So I e-mailed my old advisor dr. m to get her thoughts. She told me that she would look into a bit but that it was definitely not her field, she is a comparativist, so she could not tell me too much. However, she did tell me that I really have to be ready to research one specific area and have lots of research ideas before I decide that the phd is the program for me. Maybe, after all this time and thinking about, and money and time spent applying last year, the phd is not something I even want. Indubitably, had I been accepted to, say, santa cruz, I would have gone and would probably be very happy there, but then I never would have come here. I never would have traveled and learned so much as I have these past 7 months. I wont fall into the cliché of there being reasons for everything, but reflecting on the future forces me to review the past. One year ago I was getting rejection letter after rejection letter and feeling down. Now, I can only be happy that I did not jump right into the phd. Is it what I really want? time will tell, but right now the answer is no.

I would be quite content teaching at a community college in Washington, Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado or California. When I come back, that is probably what I will do first, for at least a year, to make some money, pay off some of my student loans, adjust to life with hot water, etc. the money is decent and I can then get my applications in order, etc. all this is assuming I can actually get one of these jobs and I come back with the same agenda I have this week. Doubtful.

it seems like my whole life has been about applying. taking the ssat’s and applying to woodberry in 8th grade, psat’s, sat’s sat II’s and colleges in 5th and 6th form, gre and grad schools in 2002-3, gre and gre lit and more apps in 2004-5, then all those job applications over the years, and now applying for visas and future employment. I am not complaining, these all mean I continue to create new opportunity for myself, but this is merely a commentary on life in general.

In mexico, these things are minimized. In truth, life is much simpler here. Don’t confuse simplicity with felicity, but in general there is less stress down here. Maybe it is just too hot to get all worked up about things. Maybe we in the states are doing something wrong. There is no shortage of commentary down here about the usa, mainly negative, yet there is also no shortage of immigrants trying to get in either. What does it say about me that I was trying to get out? I certainly did not appreciate the life I had. I wont make that mistake again. As simple as things are here, life in the states is infinitely easier. So many things to take for granted, so little time.

So have I learned the big lesson that I needed to learn? Am I ready to come back and appreciate everything in a new light? It would seem that way, wouldn’t it? If that were my goal, I would have been ready to return in September; indeed all is not so simple. But you knew that.

I have been looking into chile recently. I like what I have found. Great climate, mountains, ocean, the people speak Spanish, although the difference will probably been stark, and it is the wealthiest country in south America. A plus. But when will I arrive? This is the question. I like mexico. I don’t love mexico, but maybe that is bc I live in the armpit of mexico. Not many people love it here in the istmus. Dry, hot, poor, hot, dusty, windy, hot. It is around 95 as I type this, and it is 730 at night. I look forward to living somewhere else, and I think I will be somewhere else come September, I just don’t know where. Another part of mexico? Tempting.

A quick myth I would like to debunk. You do not get used to this kind of heat. The sun burns. Seriously. Standing under the sun for a few seconds, you feel it. Your skin tingles first then sends a message to your brain to get the hell out of there and find shade. You never really stop sweating, even in the shade, even in a hammock with the fan inches from you, but eventually you accept this. After all, it cannot be helped. Air conditioners are great, but they are an evil tease. On campus the computer labs are climate controlled. So once a week I have the luxury of class at a reasonable temperature. But then the two hours are over and I walk back outside and realize, yes, the students are right. El peor viene. The worst is coming. They know it. They don’t like it either. But around and around we all go.

So ya, where am I going to live next? What country? How long will I stay there? What will life be like there? When will I return to the states? Good questions. I have zero answers to them. rather than feeling anxiety about all of this, I have chosen to accept the uncertainty of it all. Because in the end, the answers are there. I just have to choose. So really, you could say, I know the answers to all of them, in some fundamental, elemental way, and I choose to leave them unanswered because it gives me something to think about when I sit on the bus to school. Not in the sense of a lawyer who usually only asks questions he or she knows the answer to, but something less concrete. Anyway.

When I swam in boarding school, at least for the last two years, every day I dove in the pool to start the warm-up set, I told myself I was going to get out when I finished the 50(two laps), flip off the coach and never put myself through that agony again. Swimming is, in my opinion, probably the most difficult sport for multiple reasons, however, the key is that you cannot breathe whenever you want. in fact, the less you breathe, the faster you go(except for breaststroke). Not breathing hurts. A lot. There is no good equivalent I can give you here; try holding your breath for 1 minute. Ok. Now try doing an exercise that uses your legs and arms simultaneously and hold your breath for 30 seconds. More difficult.

Ultimately, I never quit swimming in high school. I wanted to every day. Every single time I jumped in the pool my first thoughts were why the hell am I doing this to myself. It was a choice. I could have played basketball, been in a play, there were lots of other options. Why didn’t I?

I don’t wake up everyday and wish to be back in the states, far from it. I would also be lying if I said I don’t miss the states sometimes though. Friends, the ease of communication, everything readily available, a vehicle, chicken wings, the six months of new Yorkers that are, hopefully (if doughman did not toss them) waiting on me, there are so many things. The list goes on. The money is much better in the states as well. Clearly. So why don’t I come home in august?

I wont be coming home in august. That is fairly clear to me at least. There is going to come a time in the future when I realize that it is time to return. When I have figured out what it is I have been looking for. In the end, if I cannot explain this . . . is it still called a “trip” if you live somewhere and work there as well? Ok, if I cannot explain this period of ex-patriotism to, bare minimum here, myself, then I am wasting my time. Luckily, I lowered my standards along with my expectations long ago, so I shant require too much in the way of explication. I am not waiting on the day I realize it is time to come home (a very loaded word that I have trouble defining), but it is in the back of my mind. Mainly because I am living on fixed 6month contracts. That is a lie. Mainly because I have serious debt. I think if I were debt-free, I may consider taking up residence somewhere outside of the usa. That is a thought for the future. Maybe I can get a job teaching in Australia. Oooh. I really want to go to Australia. Actually, I cannot think of place I would not like to visit. Everywhere sounds good. Antartica, finland, asia in general, all of Africa.

I think I may look into the cruise ship idea I had a few months ago. I could be some sort of resident lecturer and give talks on the literature of the area where the boat is going. I remember reading a book that included a character who did something like this. Hopefully the job was not a part of the fictional story line. Probably was, though. If any of you have a lot of money, or come into large sums of money in the future, start a cruise line and hire me as a lecturer. Or start a touring company and hire me for that. Maybe the sixth month contract does weigh on me. I seem constantly to be looking for jobs. This would also help explain my frustration with applications. Writing as therapy. Gotta love it.

My friend down here just took the foreign service test. She wants to work for the usa abroad. I am going to look into this job bc it seems great. The best part is that you normally only live somewhere for a maximum of 3 years and then you move. That is perfect for me. I could see the world and get paid. I would also extend my streak of government paid jobs. Since I left college I have only worked for non-profit organizations(excluding dad and Anthony here). Not something I consciously think about when looking for work, but it is what it is. Anyway, hopefully my friend will get a job and then can tell me all about it and then if I like it she can help me get a job too. As you can tell, I am writing this paragraph two weeks after I began this original entry(I was re-reading and thought I should add this paragraph) so my future plans have changed yet again. Surprised?

Well I drifted again, but that was bound to happen. I think we learned a lot today, about, uh… me- tell’em about your glass eye, mike! (once again I love the state, what a funny show).

What does it say about me that I like moving somewhere new every year or two or three? Fear of commitment? I think that is cliché at this point and should be stricken from discussions of guys. True or not, I want something better. Nay, I demand something better. Ok. I really just wanted to type nay. Not often you get to use that word. Nay, less than not often, rare. Thrice times. But the truth is I move a lot. All the time. I realized the other day that since I went to boarding school when I was 13, and I am now 27, I have lived over half my life away from home (not true as I taught high school in the o.c. and rented the cottage on the farm for almost a year- how funny is that? Rented the cottage, and paid rent to live in the big house! Hi-larious. Big house was what lynne clements used to call the brick house on the farm. She joked with me when I was teaching in o.c. about going to the big house and asking for food, clothing, etc. I guess you had to be there). Kind of wild. Maybe that is why I am so ready to go somewhere different. I have been doing this for 14 years more or less. 7 months at boarding school, 5 months at home for four years. Four years of college with one summer at home. 2 months working construction and then 7 months teaching all while living on the farm. Two years in cali. Two years in flag. 7 months in feliztepec. The best part is I would trade none of them. I loved everywhere, especially cali and az, and though I would move back to either of those two in a heartbeat, I probably never will.

What else? My compy is still slightly jacked but it is usable. The problem is easily fixable if I had a soldering (no idea how to spell that word) gun. But I don’t so I am waiting on a student to bring one in and fix my compy. They are pretty much computer engineers after all, this should be relatively easy.

My hair has grown too long for gel. I tried using it the other day and felt weird. Well, my hair isn’t too long, considering some of the do’s the kids and adults around here sport, but I ain’t going that route. So I am getting a trimmy trim sometime soon. Still don’t like going to the barber. This will be my first trip alone. It will be interesting to see what happens, I will keep you posted. I mean, it should be fairly routine, but then again, things that outwardly appear simple tend to get a little complicated when I am involved. I have the basic vocab of hair cuts and such down, but you never know. Worst case I will borrow my friends clippers and shave my head.

Honestly, I have been contemplating this for a good while now. I mean, why not? I have no one to impress and people are going to continue staring at me everywhere I go whether I have hair or not. Ya, this has not slacked off at all. I was talking with a woman on the bus a few weeks ago and I told her it sometimes bothers me a bit how people stare at me (I swear the conversation did not start like this and there was a smooth transition through which this came up. I don’t just bitch at people on the bus about my problems. I mean, come on, that is what the blog is for, right?). she looked at me with surprise and reminded me of the obvious: I am taller than most people, my skin is completely different from theirs, my eyes are a color they have probably never seen outside of television and this part of mexico is very rural so anything out of the ordinary attracts attention. Cool. Fine. Still don’t like the staring. I try not to pay attention to it, but, sometimes I just feel like stopping in front of the person, adult or child, and giving them a good long look. I wonder how long it would take them before they stopped staring. Would they eventually get bored of looking at me and go back to whatever it was they were doing or would I be the first to move? Any bets?

I listen to cheesy Spanish and Mexican rock/pop now. The transition has been rocky but as it helps me understand everyday language better, it is algood. Synthesizers. Reminds me of 80’s music in a lot of ways. Or pop in general, but I just stopped listening to it so I forgot how heavily special sounds effects are relied upon by those artists. I must say it is quite funny listening to spain-spanish. They have an extremely different pronunciation of these key letters: s, c, z. they make them sound kind of like “th”, which really starts to mess with your head after a while because it is quite strange to hear these letters pronounced this way. Plus it just sounds strange, although they say the exact same thing about the Spanish spoken on this side of the world too. I don’t see myself in spain anytime soon so I am algood on that front.

I have not read many comments recently, and I am not sure if this means that everyone is on spring break or that the blog is screwing up. If spring break, giddey-up. If he blog is messed up, boo. Well, type a response when you get the chance. I really do like reading your comments.

I am super jealous of timmay. Ween. It has been almost six years since I saw them. too long. But good to know they are still doing shows. I listened to their 12 golden country greats album today. Classic.

Peaches- what can I say? I fear that your identity is much simpler than I am making all this, yet it eludes me. No matter. another clue if you please.

Take it easy y’all. if you eat meat, eat a chicken wing for me. If not, get crazy with the easy cheese. And don’t bother telling me it is not real cheese. I care not. Me importa un bledo. (I don’t give a)