well, at the very least, i must say that getting online in central america is not impossible, but not always that easy. hence, it has taken me this long to get online. we went to honduras, then el salvador, hiked onto an active volcano and came within 3 feet of molten rock, no shit, flowing, active, real live 2000 degrees centigrade magma, on christmas day. not a bad way to spend the holiday. tons of fun, lots to say, but my bus leaves in 15 minutes to mexico city and i have to run. not looking forward to a 13 hour bus ride, but oh well. still cannot believe i hiked on an active volcano in guatemala, but fortunately i have a camera and it even has video so all of it will be available to you guys in about a week.
merry xmas. hope you all had a great holiday, and happy new year. i am so excited to have visited so many cool countries!
28 December 2007
22 December 2007
this seems like a good color for another country. today we are in león, nicaragua, but we will soon be leaving (later this afternoon actually) to return to managua, the capital of the country. as there is only 1 bus out of this country going north that leaves each day (it leaves at 5am), we have to return to the capital to catch it.
we spent the first night in managua, where on the plane we met an incredibly kind nicaragüense who told us how ridiculous the cab prices would be at the airport and that we should look across the street to find a cab. well, her sister, brother and son all came to get her and they busied themselves with finding us a decent cab (because we had big packs and looked foreign they would overcharge), but it turned out the cabs all wanted more than our new friends thought we should have to pay and so they took us the 10 miles into town themselves. from there they found us a cheap cab to take us to where we thought there would be cheap places to stay (although the guidebook i am using, only 5 years old, calls the neighborhood one thing, nobody from there has ever heard of that name, so there was some confusion at first). anyway, they found us another cab and told us it would be 4 dollars (almost everyone here accepts usa dollars). before i could reach into my pocket for cash, they were handing us the amount in córdobas, the local currency, and explaining that since we just arrived we probably had no change. upon discovering that i was reaching into my pocket to give them cash, they made it clear that they were not actually offering the money, but were insisting. needless to say this was the most cordial arrival i have received anywhere and should have boded well for the rest of the stay here in nicaragua. it did not.
we made our way to the part of town the guidebook said has cheap places to stay. well, cheap was true. the barrio was truly frightening, but i will get into that another day. we found a cheap hospedaje (like a house with rooms partitioned off) and were all set. the señora running the house told us it was dangerous to walk around (we got there around 9pm), but as we had not eaten, she recommended a place within two blocks. it was sketchy to say the least and as investing in street lights would take up precious money that they city could spend on, say, trash removal (also not done), the streets were darker than madison county side roads.
and it is roasting down here also. i should mention that. mosquitos abound, and since my friend has already had dengüe fever once (the second could be fatal), i put up the mosquito net in the, let us just say, not frequently cleaned room (filthy would be more adequate actually). about an hour into our rest, i could not stop itching my legs and arms. ever heard the phrase: sleep tight, don´t let the bed bugs bite. well, i leanred that night what bed bugs are. painful, obnoxious, not something you ever want to experience again (which is why, 3 nights later on the largest freshwater lake island in the world, ometepe, we found ourselves sleeping under the open sky in hammocks instead of the shitty ass room we had paid for that apparently used mattresses and pillows from the 1960´s that had never been cleaned or replaced). yet i digress. managua.
is, as far as i can tell from less than 24 hours, one of the ugliest, dirtiest and poorest capital cities i have ever been to by far. mexico, even the poorest parts, seems first world here. frightening at times, managua left much to be desired. we descended upon another city on a lake, this the largest freshwater lake in central america, granada on tuesday. heaven. colonial buildings, oriented for tourists, the place positively reeked of happy people and good times. while that first impression was not all true, we found a beautiful place to stay for 18 bucks a night (expensive for my taste, but after the bed bug incident, it was necessary. on a side note, we found an english-run coffe/bookshop on arriving in granada and the lady, from the states, suggested the place we ended up staying in. she told us there were cheaper places, but had heard horror stories of bed mites, and even a case of mange. no. we told her we could not believe it and were shocked but would take her advice and find the place she suggested. dear god. this is a valuable lesson. pay more if you have to, but find a place that is clean (this never mattered to me in the mountains of mexico where i have stayed because of the cold weather, but here, damn, the bugs love it.)
anyway, granada rocks. i have to go check out more of this city, but when next i write i will either be in el salvador or guatemala. tomorrow, honduras. merry christmas!
we spent the first night in managua, where on the plane we met an incredibly kind nicaragüense who told us how ridiculous the cab prices would be at the airport and that we should look across the street to find a cab. well, her sister, brother and son all came to get her and they busied themselves with finding us a decent cab (because we had big packs and looked foreign they would overcharge), but it turned out the cabs all wanted more than our new friends thought we should have to pay and so they took us the 10 miles into town themselves. from there they found us a cheap cab to take us to where we thought there would be cheap places to stay (although the guidebook i am using, only 5 years old, calls the neighborhood one thing, nobody from there has ever heard of that name, so there was some confusion at first). anyway, they found us another cab and told us it would be 4 dollars (almost everyone here accepts usa dollars). before i could reach into my pocket for cash, they were handing us the amount in córdobas, the local currency, and explaining that since we just arrived we probably had no change. upon discovering that i was reaching into my pocket to give them cash, they made it clear that they were not actually offering the money, but were insisting. needless to say this was the most cordial arrival i have received anywhere and should have boded well for the rest of the stay here in nicaragua. it did not.
we made our way to the part of town the guidebook said has cheap places to stay. well, cheap was true. the barrio was truly frightening, but i will get into that another day. we found a cheap hospedaje (like a house with rooms partitioned off) and were all set. the señora running the house told us it was dangerous to walk around (we got there around 9pm), but as we had not eaten, she recommended a place within two blocks. it was sketchy to say the least and as investing in street lights would take up precious money that they city could spend on, say, trash removal (also not done), the streets were darker than madison county side roads.
and it is roasting down here also. i should mention that. mosquitos abound, and since my friend has already had dengüe fever once (the second could be fatal), i put up the mosquito net in the, let us just say, not frequently cleaned room (filthy would be more adequate actually). about an hour into our rest, i could not stop itching my legs and arms. ever heard the phrase: sleep tight, don´t let the bed bugs bite. well, i leanred that night what bed bugs are. painful, obnoxious, not something you ever want to experience again (which is why, 3 nights later on the largest freshwater lake island in the world, ometepe, we found ourselves sleeping under the open sky in hammocks instead of the shitty ass room we had paid for that apparently used mattresses and pillows from the 1960´s that had never been cleaned or replaced). yet i digress. managua.
is, as far as i can tell from less than 24 hours, one of the ugliest, dirtiest and poorest capital cities i have ever been to by far. mexico, even the poorest parts, seems first world here. frightening at times, managua left much to be desired. we descended upon another city on a lake, this the largest freshwater lake in central america, granada on tuesday. heaven. colonial buildings, oriented for tourists, the place positively reeked of happy people and good times. while that first impression was not all true, we found a beautiful place to stay for 18 bucks a night (expensive for my taste, but after the bed bug incident, it was necessary. on a side note, we found an english-run coffe/bookshop on arriving in granada and the lady, from the states, suggested the place we ended up staying in. she told us there were cheaper places, but had heard horror stories of bed mites, and even a case of mange. no. we told her we could not believe it and were shocked but would take her advice and find the place she suggested. dear god. this is a valuable lesson. pay more if you have to, but find a place that is clean (this never mattered to me in the mountains of mexico where i have stayed because of the cold weather, but here, damn, the bugs love it.)
anyway, granada rocks. i have to go check out more of this city, but when next i write i will either be in el salvador or guatemala. tomorrow, honduras. merry christmas!
11 December 2007
not sure if any of you are interested, but the following is an outline/overview of what i have been working on the past 5 months or so. it will eventually culminate in a phd if all goes well, possibly down here. to say that living in mexico has changed my perspective on my future would be an understatement, but it would also overgeneralize. working at my current school, one fundamentally tied to technological advancement, has given me the opportunity to work using platforms and programs based on new ideas in technology. good and bad (certainly the two are not mutually exclusive if you believe what neil postman, andrew feenberg and albert borgmann have been saying for the past 20 years or more) this focus on change has altered how all societies function and interact with each other.
a simple example would be that we are shifting between a mass society to one that is clearly de-massified and focused on niches. of the 25 best-selling music albums of all time, none have been released since 2000. coincidence? piracy? i-tunes? or an idea much simpler- there is no need to buy an entire album if you only want one song. the last 8 years have also brought a resurgence of older music once thought gone- brandy, you´re a fine girl.
a discussion with my sister the other day made me realize how netflix contributes to this. according to a july, 2006 new yorker article, 90% of blockbuster´s film rental revenue comes from the rental of new films. with well over 100,000 films in its library, many of which are small documentaries or indie films, netflix on the other hand seems to be opening, rather than closing, markets. it was never that these types of films would not sell; however, the economics of all video stores containing all films is ridiculous. hence, netflix manages to be all the little stores combined.
technology and its ¨advancement¨ also affects individuals and has ethical implications.
memory enhancement, to take a recent example, creates numerous issues. engineers are developing devices, microsoft has a few in development, that record life. one such device is worn around the neck and takes a picture every 4 seconds or every time the wearer moves. thus, you have a photo record of what you experience. lots of cool ideas come from this when the device is linked to a computer. for example, the computer might ask you why it has been 6 weeks since the device took a picture of kelly. well, maybe kelly was out of town, or your ex, and so you could not see her. or, maybe you forgot and should give her a call. also, if you are on business and go to seattle, the computer can remind you of everyone you met and with a recording device, give you a first-hand account of what was said. maybe you dont understand why the business deal failed, but when you listen to the recording and see the faces of everyone at the table, you realize your tone of voice caused a problem (you see it in the faces of those you actually did not see bc you were looking somewhere else).
ethical issues abound with this type of technology. should we be ¨enhancing¨ memory in such a way? writing was the first technological advancement to memory. many predicted it would ruin mankind. maybe it did. but, should all people be recorded whether they want to be or not? what will happen to privacy if all life is recorded by everyone? this will change how you interact with others. guarded would be an understatement. you might even begin to wear a mask to cover your reactions/expressions.
another device is a transmitter that scrambles the messages taken by the recording device. like a program, which already exists, that automatically scrambles email messages. therefore, there is never going to be an authentic and authorized version of a digital message. all will be compromised, thus negating this ¨first-hand¨ source. is this ethical? is any of it?
the point is that it will not be stopped. you cannot take away a technology once it has been presented to society. imagine telling a kid that in 1 week, she will have no more ipod. forever. or, imagine telling a businessperson that in 1 month, the computers will disappear forever. back to typewriters and handwritten memos. this is an impossibility, not hyperbole. you cannot take away what was given regarding technology. you cannot even move backward. try telling someone that in 1 year all cellphones will revert back to the zack morris version from ¨saved by the bell¨ (big, clunky, funny looking to us).
these are the kinds of questions that interest me. these are philosophical issues, clearly, and what i am proposing to study down here is the philosophy of technology, focusing on technology and culture. the beauty is that the ideas will not slow down and the possibilities for research multiply exponentially, similar to moore´s law in that sense (moore´s law says that, "the number of transistors that can be fit onto a square inch of silicon doubles every 12 months." he said this in 1965, and mostly it holds true today. moore was a founder of intel by the way). in other words, job security.
below is a cut ´n paste job of some questions/ideas i presented to the director of the humanities graduate studies program recently. this is what i am thinking about and reading about. it may interest you or it may not; however, it already affects you. strange in that way, i think.
a simple example would be that we are shifting between a mass society to one that is clearly de-massified and focused on niches. of the 25 best-selling music albums of all time, none have been released since 2000. coincidence? piracy? i-tunes? or an idea much simpler- there is no need to buy an entire album if you only want one song. the last 8 years have also brought a resurgence of older music once thought gone- brandy, you´re a fine girl.
a discussion with my sister the other day made me realize how netflix contributes to this. according to a july, 2006 new yorker article, 90% of blockbuster´s film rental revenue comes from the rental of new films. with well over 100,000 films in its library, many of which are small documentaries or indie films, netflix on the other hand seems to be opening, rather than closing, markets. it was never that these types of films would not sell; however, the economics of all video stores containing all films is ridiculous. hence, netflix manages to be all the little stores combined.
technology and its ¨advancement¨ also affects individuals and has ethical implications.
memory enhancement, to take a recent example, creates numerous issues. engineers are developing devices, microsoft has a few in development, that record life. one such device is worn around the neck and takes a picture every 4 seconds or every time the wearer moves. thus, you have a photo record of what you experience. lots of cool ideas come from this when the device is linked to a computer. for example, the computer might ask you why it has been 6 weeks since the device took a picture of kelly. well, maybe kelly was out of town, or your ex, and so you could not see her. or, maybe you forgot and should give her a call. also, if you are on business and go to seattle, the computer can remind you of everyone you met and with a recording device, give you a first-hand account of what was said. maybe you dont understand why the business deal failed, but when you listen to the recording and see the faces of everyone at the table, you realize your tone of voice caused a problem (you see it in the faces of those you actually did not see bc you were looking somewhere else).
ethical issues abound with this type of technology. should we be ¨enhancing¨ memory in such a way? writing was the first technological advancement to memory. many predicted it would ruin mankind. maybe it did. but, should all people be recorded whether they want to be or not? what will happen to privacy if all life is recorded by everyone? this will change how you interact with others. guarded would be an understatement. you might even begin to wear a mask to cover your reactions/expressions.
another device is a transmitter that scrambles the messages taken by the recording device. like a program, which already exists, that automatically scrambles email messages. therefore, there is never going to be an authentic and authorized version of a digital message. all will be compromised, thus negating this ¨first-hand¨ source. is this ethical? is any of it?
the point is that it will not be stopped. you cannot take away a technology once it has been presented to society. imagine telling a kid that in 1 week, she will have no more ipod. forever. or, imagine telling a businessperson that in 1 month, the computers will disappear forever. back to typewriters and handwritten memos. this is an impossibility, not hyperbole. you cannot take away what was given regarding technology. you cannot even move backward. try telling someone that in 1 year all cellphones will revert back to the zack morris version from ¨saved by the bell¨ (big, clunky, funny looking to us).
these are the kinds of questions that interest me. these are philosophical issues, clearly, and what i am proposing to study down here is the philosophy of technology, focusing on technology and culture. the beauty is that the ideas will not slow down and the possibilities for research multiply exponentially, similar to moore´s law in that sense (moore´s law says that, "the number of transistors that can be fit onto a square inch of silicon doubles every 12 months." he said this in 1965, and mostly it holds true today. moore was a founder of intel by the way). in other words, job security.
below is a cut ´n paste job of some questions/ideas i presented to the director of the humanities graduate studies program recently. this is what i am thinking about and reading about. it may interest you or it may not; however, it already affects you. strange in that way, i think.
Technology and Its Effects on Epistemology
o Philosophy of technology from a humanities perspective
o The objects are part of the discourse (ex. environment is not simply an object to be manipulated, we must develop with the environment, similar to an inter-subjective conversation)
o Art and literature influence technology
o Technology changes how we gather, transmit and view information
o Much of Postmodern philosophy deals with analysis of texts,what is needed is to dissect the concept of information
o Technology provides means for democratization as well as trivialization of knowledge
o Technology can validate a posteriori knowledge; can it affect a priori knowledge?
o As definitions change analytic and synthetic knowledge might also be altered (is this tenable?)
o Raises fundamental questions about adequacy and validity of knowledge transmitted while simultaneously providing means of researching such obstacles
o This provokes ethical questions- what information is a given technology enabling? What is it marginalizing?
§ Technology facilitates an elite group’s domination because it validates their information (knowledge)
o Changes definitions
o Effects on literature
§ Our definition of literature must change (blogs) as technology facilitates access for both authors and audiences
o Memory associated with knowledge- data can be stored but altered, lost also- this affects what is transmitted and received
o Sender to receiver not simply a straight line (magic bullet theory), must account for the source, noise, etc. How does technology affect these limiting factors, yet remain part of them?
only 6 days remain until i return to the usa. of course, i will only be in the usa for about 2 hours, but hey, it is kind of like going back. amazingly enough, the cheapest distance between two points separated by about 1000 miles is actually about 3000 miles.
a few weeks ago i was looking for the cheapest one-way fares to central america, and i discovered that miami, florida, was the connection that would take off about 100 dollars from my ticket. and instead of flying with a central america airline, i will be flying american airlines to nicaragua next monday morning.
i will spend about 4 days in nicaragua, then start heading back to mexico. one day (max) in honduras- i have friends who lived there and do not speak that highly of it- then maybe two days in el salvador. after that, another 4 days or so in guatemala before the nearly 24 bus ride back from guatemala to mexico city.
i might stop off in southern mexico just to break up the trip a bit, but as i lived there for a year, i am not exactly dying to ¨see the sights¨ necessarily.
then in january i am going to costa rica for a conference. i wont get much chance to be a tourist as the schedule is kind of tight, but it will be cool to see another country. sad to think i have lived down here over 2 years and still only been to 1 other country (guatemala). luckily in the next month i will visit 4 more. at the very least that is exciting.
anybody up there doing anything cool for vacation?
a few weeks ago i was looking for the cheapest one-way fares to central america, and i discovered that miami, florida, was the connection that would take off about 100 dollars from my ticket. and instead of flying with a central america airline, i will be flying american airlines to nicaragua next monday morning.
i will spend about 4 days in nicaragua, then start heading back to mexico. one day (max) in honduras- i have friends who lived there and do not speak that highly of it- then maybe two days in el salvador. after that, another 4 days or so in guatemala before the nearly 24 bus ride back from guatemala to mexico city.
i might stop off in southern mexico just to break up the trip a bit, but as i lived there for a year, i am not exactly dying to ¨see the sights¨ necessarily.
then in january i am going to costa rica for a conference. i wont get much chance to be a tourist as the schedule is kind of tight, but it will be cool to see another country. sad to think i have lived down here over 2 years and still only been to 1 other country (guatemala). luckily in the next month i will visit 4 more. at the very least that is exciting.
anybody up there doing anything cool for vacation?
07 December 2007
happy birthday to my sis. have a great day!
now, to complain. i really feel i dont bitch enough. ever. doubtless you would agree. selfless, giving, loving, gentle, vulnerable; a rather altruistic person in general. ya, i would say that sums me up quite well.
my beef stems from student evaluations of teachers. giving a 15 or 16 year old a forum to grade a prof seems more than slightly ridiculous. there are 18 questions on this mandatory survey, and some of the questions range from benign: does the teacher use the platform? (blackboard or an internet based system through which we run our courses); to asinine: did the teacher show the real-world relevance of this course? to insulting: did you like the professor?
please. if a kid is failing, what do you think she will do? give you a high mark? or, fail your ass because that is what you are doing to her? honestly, i am not much better when it comes to this kind of thing, so i should not be allowed to take these surveys either, but damn, at least i have a clue about what the questions are really doing. these surveys are used by the department to evaluate profs. kiss. my. ass. if you want to go on the opinion of a 15 year old, be my guest, but understand that in the end the kid is a kid and if the prof follows the rules and does not allow a kid to enter class who is more than 5 minutes late, then the kid will react. is this generalizing? hell yes it is.
the pies de resistance must be the comments section at the bottom where children are encouraged to spout off whatever inane, ludicrous grievance they can think of. sweet.
my first question is where the hell is my evaluation? why is no one asking my opinion of them? why are my thoughts not worth it? to me, this seems to be telling me that i need to grade them based on how i see them. really? ok, then half fail. if those in charge want me to grade based on: did the students use the platform? did they like the subject? were they pleasing to me? then i will certainly evaluate based on such criteria. i dont think this is fair, though. i wont do that, not because i am bigger than this, because clearly i am in no way above that kind of thing, but because i dont see that matching jackassery with more of the same is in any way constructive.
if the above diatribe has not given you a clear picture of who i am, let me share a few choice insights from adoring, captivated audience. ¨he is cold. he should be more open in class and nicer to us.¨ ¨class would be better if he made it more fun.¨ ¨class would be better if he showed more interest in the subject.¨ ¨i dont think the class is relevant to the real world¨(the class is called media and culture where we discuss how media influences and affect the population through advertising, film, television, music and cultural imperialism, etc. right. no real world application. what the fuck does this child know about the world that mtv did not show?)
am i the friend of my students? hell no. i am their teacher, not their buddy. do i want to keep a separation between myself and them? ¿cómo chingados que no, cabron? which is a somewhat impolite way of saying, of course. i dont care if you hate me, but at the very least you should respect me. or, maybe i should start grading based on my own opinion.
now, to complain. i really feel i dont bitch enough. ever. doubtless you would agree. selfless, giving, loving, gentle, vulnerable; a rather altruistic person in general. ya, i would say that sums me up quite well.
my beef stems from student evaluations of teachers. giving a 15 or 16 year old a forum to grade a prof seems more than slightly ridiculous. there are 18 questions on this mandatory survey, and some of the questions range from benign: does the teacher use the platform? (blackboard or an internet based system through which we run our courses); to asinine: did the teacher show the real-world relevance of this course? to insulting: did you like the professor?
please. if a kid is failing, what do you think she will do? give you a high mark? or, fail your ass because that is what you are doing to her? honestly, i am not much better when it comes to this kind of thing, so i should not be allowed to take these surveys either, but damn, at least i have a clue about what the questions are really doing. these surveys are used by the department to evaluate profs. kiss. my. ass. if you want to go on the opinion of a 15 year old, be my guest, but understand that in the end the kid is a kid and if the prof follows the rules and does not allow a kid to enter class who is more than 5 minutes late, then the kid will react. is this generalizing? hell yes it is.
the pies de resistance must be the comments section at the bottom where children are encouraged to spout off whatever inane, ludicrous grievance they can think of. sweet.
my first question is where the hell is my evaluation? why is no one asking my opinion of them? why are my thoughts not worth it? to me, this seems to be telling me that i need to grade them based on how i see them. really? ok, then half fail. if those in charge want me to grade based on: did the students use the platform? did they like the subject? were they pleasing to me? then i will certainly evaluate based on such criteria. i dont think this is fair, though. i wont do that, not because i am bigger than this, because clearly i am in no way above that kind of thing, but because i dont see that matching jackassery with more of the same is in any way constructive.
if the above diatribe has not given you a clear picture of who i am, let me share a few choice insights from adoring, captivated audience. ¨he is cold. he should be more open in class and nicer to us.¨ ¨class would be better if he made it more fun.¨ ¨class would be better if he showed more interest in the subject.¨ ¨i dont think the class is relevant to the real world¨(the class is called media and culture where we discuss how media influences and affect the population through advertising, film, television, music and cultural imperialism, etc. right. no real world application. what the fuck does this child know about the world that mtv did not show?)
am i the friend of my students? hell no. i am their teacher, not their buddy. do i want to keep a separation between myself and them? ¿cómo chingados que no, cabron? which is a somewhat impolite way of saying, of course. i dont care if you hate me, but at the very least you should respect me. or, maybe i should start grading based on my own opinion.
05 December 2007
dreams supposedly offer us a glimpse into the subconscious mind. not sure i believe that, but at the very least they show us a warped reality that inspires thousands of trite ¨explanation¨ books and dim conversations. this is the latter.
there is an interesting film called ¨the good night,¨ at least that is what i think the english title is. stars danny devito, penelope cruz, the sister from royal tenenbaums whose name i cannot place and some brits. the brits pretty much run the film, so take that as you will. one of the underlying premises of the film is the notion that you can control dreams. lucid dreaming, i believe.
turning the light switch on and off a few times before bed, among other remedies, supposedly allows you a margin of control when you switch off normal thinking patterns and drift off for the night. following this ¨method¨ permits you to introduce into the dream whomever you want and control the actions.
is this not already possible? one could argue that we do already control our dreams and that what occurs, though not necessarily an overt desire, has links to what we want (or in some cases, what we do not). these remedies to give power back seem based on the idea that what we experience (not sure if we can use this word to describe a dream, but we can get to that later)is out of our control in the first place. is that true? do we really have no ability to manipulate dreams?
assuming we do not command what occurs in a dream state, why would we want to do so? is it simply fear of the unknown; some abject desire for power (a manifest destiny as it should and must be ours to control)? often times we fear what we do not understand. few have a clear grasp of the reasons behind ¨terrorism¨ (those in the muslim world who act against the usa, or those in the west who act against the muslim world) and thus both sides in many ways fear each other. would clearer definitions resolve these problems? perhaps.
what is the point of all this? not sure. my dreams recently have been no stranger than any other time (although it would also be difficult to define a ¨normal¨ dream), but i was reading an article the other day about a frenchman, jacques barzun (a rather famous author and former prof a columbia university) who taught and lived for 70 years in new york. he will be 100 this year and in the last 10 years published a book called ¨from dawn to decadence¨ which traces the history of europe and the states from, you guessed it, the renaissance to present. from the title you gather that he claims current society is in a state of decline. isn´t there a reality show based on that idea? according to him, all his dreams recently have been a mix of french and english. he is starting to blend french back into his dreams though he has not lived there for nearly a century. in fact, he resides in san antonio, texas. although not an expert on texas, somehow i doubt it has a barrio called little france.
it has been more than a year since i really payed attention to what language i was speaking or those in my dreams speak. most of it is spanish, and i often find myself explain spanish words to people as a kind of, not exactly translation, but clarification. this is a problem i still face with spanish- i know most of the rules but not all. luckily, i now hear others making mistakes all the time (native speakers), so i realize i am, and have been for a long time, at a point where my vocabulary is fine (although my slang can always improve), but some of the minor rules i miss.
nevertheless, i dreamed last night that i was explaining to two friends, one from the usa and one from here, how to say something in spanish. it did not strike me as odd in the dream that my mexican friend never contradicted me or corrected me. she let me go on with my explanation and even asked for further clarification. did i control that? do i want that? if not, do i really desire that people from here accept my version of their language as the correct, thus forcing them to come to me with questions about their native tongue? maybe.
i have many more questions than answers, but i am rather sure that no matter what i want, subconsciously, there is most likely an excellent reason that i do not make these desires public. so why did i write this?
there is an interesting film called ¨the good night,¨ at least that is what i think the english title is. stars danny devito, penelope cruz, the sister from royal tenenbaums whose name i cannot place and some brits. the brits pretty much run the film, so take that as you will. one of the underlying premises of the film is the notion that you can control dreams. lucid dreaming, i believe.
turning the light switch on and off a few times before bed, among other remedies, supposedly allows you a margin of control when you switch off normal thinking patterns and drift off for the night. following this ¨method¨ permits you to introduce into the dream whomever you want and control the actions.
is this not already possible? one could argue that we do already control our dreams and that what occurs, though not necessarily an overt desire, has links to what we want (or in some cases, what we do not). these remedies to give power back seem based on the idea that what we experience (not sure if we can use this word to describe a dream, but we can get to that later)is out of our control in the first place. is that true? do we really have no ability to manipulate dreams?
assuming we do not command what occurs in a dream state, why would we want to do so? is it simply fear of the unknown; some abject desire for power (a manifest destiny as it should and must be ours to control)? often times we fear what we do not understand. few have a clear grasp of the reasons behind ¨terrorism¨ (those in the muslim world who act against the usa, or those in the west who act against the muslim world) and thus both sides in many ways fear each other. would clearer definitions resolve these problems? perhaps.
what is the point of all this? not sure. my dreams recently have been no stranger than any other time (although it would also be difficult to define a ¨normal¨ dream), but i was reading an article the other day about a frenchman, jacques barzun (a rather famous author and former prof a columbia university) who taught and lived for 70 years in new york. he will be 100 this year and in the last 10 years published a book called ¨from dawn to decadence¨ which traces the history of europe and the states from, you guessed it, the renaissance to present. from the title you gather that he claims current society is in a state of decline. isn´t there a reality show based on that idea? according to him, all his dreams recently have been a mix of french and english. he is starting to blend french back into his dreams though he has not lived there for nearly a century. in fact, he resides in san antonio, texas. although not an expert on texas, somehow i doubt it has a barrio called little france.
it has been more than a year since i really payed attention to what language i was speaking or those in my dreams speak. most of it is spanish, and i often find myself explain spanish words to people as a kind of, not exactly translation, but clarification. this is a problem i still face with spanish- i know most of the rules but not all. luckily, i now hear others making mistakes all the time (native speakers), so i realize i am, and have been for a long time, at a point where my vocabulary is fine (although my slang can always improve), but some of the minor rules i miss.
nevertheless, i dreamed last night that i was explaining to two friends, one from the usa and one from here, how to say something in spanish. it did not strike me as odd in the dream that my mexican friend never contradicted me or corrected me. she let me go on with my explanation and even asked for further clarification. did i control that? do i want that? if not, do i really desire that people from here accept my version of their language as the correct, thus forcing them to come to me with questions about their native tongue? maybe.
i have many more questions than answers, but i am rather sure that no matter what i want, subconsciously, there is most likely an excellent reason that i do not make these desires public. so why did i write this?
26 November 2007
this is her boyfriend, ¨el popo.¨ there is a legend about the two, but i will save it for another day. suffice it to say the two volcanoes, el popo is active, are quite close to d.f. they are about 20-30 miles or so from where i live (maybe closer as i am not good at measuring distances). and as you will see in the next pics, both are visible from my apt simply by walking outside.
this is the volcano ¨la itza¨ its name in nuahtuatl is extemely long and i will not spell it right. anyway, if you look at it from left to right, you should be able to see a woman lying down (profile view from the side- her head is the left, then her chest is higher, and down to the feet- like a mummy in a way.
30 October 2007
a chilly 33 degrees the other morning. the worst part is probably the shower because the tiles are so cold. and then getting out of the shower and putting on clothes, that is not much fun. having your hair dry in the icy temps is not recommendable either. hot to cold. oaxaca to mex city. i must say i like the cold better but it is damn cold here right now.
so i saw an interesting film the other week called ¨jesus camp.¨ about evangelicals and such, it gave a somewhat objective view of a group of evangelicals based in kansas. i recommend it highly because it is both entertaining and real. this is not a phenomenon consisting of a small group of people. this is millions of us people with more converting each day. at the very least, we need to be aware of it.
then yesterday i saw this piece in the new york times
i recommend reading it (although at 9 pages in a word document it will take a bit of time- not a usa today piece) because it also gives a lot of background information and brings the issue up to date. the republicans are losing support from the evangelicals and this article explains, to an extent, why.
at the very least this article will give you something to chat about.
i have also been reading a fair amount about the upcoming elections in the usa. it is probably all over the news in the us, but imagine if hillary wins. that would mean either a bush or clinton in the white house for 32 consecutive years, starting with the 80´s and bush the father. seems like a monopoly in many ways. does that not seem like a problem? i am not against hillary at all. she would probably be an excellent president, but do we really want to keep the same regime in power? i dare say the last 32 have certainly not been ideal, so why continue the trend? 32 years. that is a long time for a supposedly democratic country to have 2 families in control (though you could argue the limits of that control in the 1980´s) of the nation. if i were obama or edwards, i would make this a point of my campaign. similarly, if i were giuliani or mitt romney, i would definitely be using this against hrc. now, the question remains: is she strong enough to overcome this anyway? it seems more and more likely as the weeks go by.
and speaking of monopolies of power, did you hear about the argentine presidential elections? the current president decided not to run for re-election (they have a max of 2 4-year terms just like us), but remains in power nonetheless. it is interesting because though the president chose not to run, he backed his wife to run, and therefore his entire party, the majority, was behind her. she won. she became the first female president of argentina. and, in 2011 when her term is up, both she and her husband will be eligible for re-election. will they trade years again and eventually retain power for 16 straight years?
so i saw an interesting film the other week called ¨jesus camp.¨ about evangelicals and such, it gave a somewhat objective view of a group of evangelicals based in kansas. i recommend it highly because it is both entertaining and real. this is not a phenomenon consisting of a small group of people. this is millions of us people with more converting each day. at the very least, we need to be aware of it.
then yesterday i saw this piece in the new york times
i recommend reading it (although at 9 pages in a word document it will take a bit of time- not a usa today piece) because it also gives a lot of background information and brings the issue up to date. the republicans are losing support from the evangelicals and this article explains, to an extent, why.
at the very least this article will give you something to chat about.
i have also been reading a fair amount about the upcoming elections in the usa. it is probably all over the news in the us, but imagine if hillary wins. that would mean either a bush or clinton in the white house for 32 consecutive years, starting with the 80´s and bush the father. seems like a monopoly in many ways. does that not seem like a problem? i am not against hillary at all. she would probably be an excellent president, but do we really want to keep the same regime in power? i dare say the last 32 have certainly not been ideal, so why continue the trend? 32 years. that is a long time for a supposedly democratic country to have 2 families in control (though you could argue the limits of that control in the 1980´s) of the nation. if i were obama or edwards, i would make this a point of my campaign. similarly, if i were giuliani or mitt romney, i would definitely be using this against hrc. now, the question remains: is she strong enough to overcome this anyway? it seems more and more likely as the weeks go by.
and speaking of monopolies of power, did you hear about the argentine presidential elections? the current president decided not to run for re-election (they have a max of 2 4-year terms just like us), but remains in power nonetheless. it is interesting because though the president chose not to run, he backed his wife to run, and therefore his entire party, the majority, was behind her. she won. she became the first female president of argentina. and, in 2011 when her term is up, both she and her husband will be eligible for re-election. will they trade years again and eventually retain power for 16 straight years?
24 October 2007
freezing. it is.
last night and the night before it was in the 30´s. keep in mind we are describing a country that has almost no indoor heating. people, literally, die when it gets this cold (it is even colder in the mountains) because their homes are not insulated and rely on wood heat to survive (not to mention poor ventilation so that when they do have wood for a fire, the smoke suffocates them).
i am not in this situation. i have blankets and long underwear, so i survive. but, i have been tempted in the last few days to buy a space heater. 8 months out of the year it is useless and would just sit in my house (this is not a grand house. nor a spacious house. nor, indeed, a house. it is a tiny apt without closets, so everything you have is open and out there). my reason for not buying is not so much tied up in this. part of it is the feeling that i can survive this without a heater. part is knowing that in a few days this cold front will push through and i wont freeze at night. part is being a cheapskate. some things never change.
trying to justify this type of purchase seems ludicrous at times. those times are not 540am when i am in the bathroom and the wind comes through the slats in the closed window (the bathroom window is like the windows at beach and lake houses that have little glass panes that ¨close¨ with a lever on the side. ya. they ain´t stopping anything) and the hot water heater is not functioning well and i am feeling the breeze so to speak. at those times, i desperately wish i had already bought the damn heater.
then the afternoon comes, or i am at a friend´s house, who is the same boat, and i imagine making my argument for needing a heater. then i sound stupid. then i feel like a nancy, a sally, a child. no no i tell myself. none of that soft shit. you survived worse. you will get past this minor setback.
this is, for all intents and purposes, machismo. the machista spirit.
i also tell myself one other important thing. cold weather means growing season is fast coming upon us. i am excited for the beard.
yesterday was my sister´s birthday, and oddly enough, she was in a dream i had last night. happy birthday cline!
last night and the night before it was in the 30´s. keep in mind we are describing a country that has almost no indoor heating. people, literally, die when it gets this cold (it is even colder in the mountains) because their homes are not insulated and rely on wood heat to survive (not to mention poor ventilation so that when they do have wood for a fire, the smoke suffocates them).
i am not in this situation. i have blankets and long underwear, so i survive. but, i have been tempted in the last few days to buy a space heater. 8 months out of the year it is useless and would just sit in my house (this is not a grand house. nor a spacious house. nor, indeed, a house. it is a tiny apt without closets, so everything you have is open and out there). my reason for not buying is not so much tied up in this. part of it is the feeling that i can survive this without a heater. part is knowing that in a few days this cold front will push through and i wont freeze at night. part is being a cheapskate. some things never change.
trying to justify this type of purchase seems ludicrous at times. those times are not 540am when i am in the bathroom and the wind comes through the slats in the closed window (the bathroom window is like the windows at beach and lake houses that have little glass panes that ¨close¨ with a lever on the side. ya. they ain´t stopping anything) and the hot water heater is not functioning well and i am feeling the breeze so to speak. at those times, i desperately wish i had already bought the damn heater.
then the afternoon comes, or i am at a friend´s house, who is the same boat, and i imagine making my argument for needing a heater. then i sound stupid. then i feel like a nancy, a sally, a child. no no i tell myself. none of that soft shit. you survived worse. you will get past this minor setback.
this is, for all intents and purposes, machismo. the machista spirit.
i also tell myself one other important thing. cold weather means growing season is fast coming upon us. i am excited for the beard.
yesterday was my sister´s birthday, and oddly enough, she was in a dream i had last night. happy birthday cline!
23 October 2007
in the past, mainly for work related but also in college as well, i have written my share of recommendations. they usually involve the key ingredient in all recommendations: embellishment. i think those who read recommendations are well aware of this and read accordingly. lord knows i have written my own share of recommendations, for myself, written by myself, so i know that there is a lot of lying going on. i do think writing your own recommendation is something everyone should try at least once. it will broaden your perspective on who you are, and depending on your self-deception abilities, it might raise you to another level of success (or incompetence as the case may be).
many of my students are applying to places like harvard, princeton, yale, mit, cal tec and other universities that would never have even opened an application from the likes of me. they also need recommenders, clearly, and as i am their sole native english speaking teacher, i get put up on the list for almost all of them. this raises questions (or challenges, depending on how you envision the world). there are a few students who are, let´s say, testing my limits. nothing nice to say? say nothing at all. how do you do that in a recommendation? i have toyed with the idea of simply giving back the rec forms and saying, no. why was i chosen anyway? if you were a student who put little to no effort into a class, would you ask that teacher to write for you? i would not. of course, i am not in high school so i cannot really answer that question fairly.
another problem is that we in the usa are indoctrinated with the importance of these letters and how they can make or break some borderline apps. here? not so much i get the feeling.
so, what do you do?
this is not a rhetorical question. i would like advice. any suggestions?
many of my students are applying to places like harvard, princeton, yale, mit, cal tec and other universities that would never have even opened an application from the likes of me. they also need recommenders, clearly, and as i am their sole native english speaking teacher, i get put up on the list for almost all of them. this raises questions (or challenges, depending on how you envision the world). there are a few students who are, let´s say, testing my limits. nothing nice to say? say nothing at all. how do you do that in a recommendation? i have toyed with the idea of simply giving back the rec forms and saying, no. why was i chosen anyway? if you were a student who put little to no effort into a class, would you ask that teacher to write for you? i would not. of course, i am not in high school so i cannot really answer that question fairly.
another problem is that we in the usa are indoctrinated with the importance of these letters and how they can make or break some borderline apps. here? not so much i get the feeling.
so, what do you do?
this is not a rhetorical question. i would like advice. any suggestions?
12 October 2007
not sure how much time y´all afford to reading online, but down here there are not many options as magazines from the states and abroad are rather expensive. about a month ago i began reading the economist, for numerous reasons, but mainly because i was looking for information about rupert murdoch´s Newscorp (that´s his company) takeover of Dow Jones & Co. essentially, he bought the rights to the Wall Street Journal. you are probably aware that Newscorp is the parent company of Fox. putting this all together, Fox now has the WSJ on its side, which if nothing else lends incredible amounts of credibility to a station known for its opinionated commentaries. i won t go into my own views of Fox or murdoch, but this news that he bought the WSJ back in july was rather astounding.
first, how many people are actually buying up newspapers? the answer is not many. why not? well, see how i found out about this takeover. online has become, to many, more important than print media. lots of people do not go online to read because they buy the paper instead. however for me down here, and for my students, we simply access the New York Times online because it is far cheaper (read: free) than buying the publication at a store. plus, it saves time and allows for convenient searches. downside? after about a month all content expires for non-subscribers (you pay an online fee to view all content).
in order to avoid this problem, i simply print the articles from these online sites and then have access to them. i will not even go into to how many copyright laws i break on a daily basis here (my students have never actually purchased an actual book: i create ¨readers¨ from online texts and photocopies of books from the library or my own collection (my sister amy bought me some great anthologies this summer when she and i went to bookstores in c-ville).
now that al gore is your nobel prize winner (although not a surprise to many, i was rather shocked), i feel a little bad about the trees i waste printing so many pages of online text. i make myself feel better by telling myself that buying the whole paper or magazine would waste more paper (living by pretexts). on the other hand, i have no real regrets about the copyright infringement part. authors works are, to an extent, public domain. that is, in the majority of the cases, the reason they write: to share with others an idea or experience. the internet has made this sharing all the easier. bravo.
there should be a point here, and maybe i will get to it.
the economist is by all estimations a rather conservative publication. this is why i enjoy it so much. not that i am completely conservative by an stretch, but i appreciate a publication that manages to print the news with no frills and with a clear objective. of course you could argue almost all publications direct themselves to a specific audience and it is almost always obvious. however, the economist, as the name suggests, is concerned with money. money, power´s cousin, makes for interesting reading when it comes to world affairs. what is going on in bahrain? let´s look at the financial implications. i find it refreshing that they manage to make the complex so simple in many ways. this does not mean i always agree with their perspective or even how they report the news, but i know what i am getting.
my dad used to listen to a lot of talk radio when he was on the combine or in the tractor (maybe still does in the truck also), and i thought he was just getting biased information (for a great article, read ¨i agree with me¨ by p j o´rourke http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/prem/200407/orourke ). of course he was. so am i. maybe he knew more than i was giving him credit for. hopefully i know more than you might be giving me credit for right now. either way, i am now for biased reporting because it is obvious. very little is hidden or tucked away from the reader/listener/viewer. sure, you may think the side given is insane, but you know where the author/publication stands. i appreciate that.
after feeling sorry myself about the price of international shipping rates for The New Yorker, i finally starting going to the website and printing articles to read. in the end the physical copy is preferred, but why spend all that money when i can get the same articles for free. when i go back to the states, which seems a certainty at any rate, i will order the physical copy of it. until then, i go to www.newyorker.com and read away.
if any of the previously mentioned publications would like to pay me for the above statements (whose bias should be obvious), i take cash and direct deposits.
first, how many people are actually buying up newspapers? the answer is not many. why not? well, see how i found out about this takeover. online has become, to many, more important than print media. lots of people do not go online to read because they buy the paper instead. however for me down here, and for my students, we simply access the New York Times online because it is far cheaper (read: free) than buying the publication at a store. plus, it saves time and allows for convenient searches. downside? after about a month all content expires for non-subscribers (you pay an online fee to view all content).
in order to avoid this problem, i simply print the articles from these online sites and then have access to them. i will not even go into to how many copyright laws i break on a daily basis here (my students have never actually purchased an actual book: i create ¨readers¨ from online texts and photocopies of books from the library or my own collection (my sister amy bought me some great anthologies this summer when she and i went to bookstores in c-ville).
now that al gore is your nobel prize winner (although not a surprise to many, i was rather shocked), i feel a little bad about the trees i waste printing so many pages of online text. i make myself feel better by telling myself that buying the whole paper or magazine would waste more paper (living by pretexts). on the other hand, i have no real regrets about the copyright infringement part. authors works are, to an extent, public domain. that is, in the majority of the cases, the reason they write: to share with others an idea or experience. the internet has made this sharing all the easier. bravo.
there should be a point here, and maybe i will get to it.
the economist is by all estimations a rather conservative publication. this is why i enjoy it so much. not that i am completely conservative by an stretch, but i appreciate a publication that manages to print the news with no frills and with a clear objective. of course you could argue almost all publications direct themselves to a specific audience and it is almost always obvious. however, the economist, as the name suggests, is concerned with money. money, power´s cousin, makes for interesting reading when it comes to world affairs. what is going on in bahrain? let´s look at the financial implications. i find it refreshing that they manage to make the complex so simple in many ways. this does not mean i always agree with their perspective or even how they report the news, but i know what i am getting.
my dad used to listen to a lot of talk radio when he was on the combine or in the tractor (maybe still does in the truck also), and i thought he was just getting biased information (for a great article, read ¨i agree with me¨ by p j o´rourke http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/prem/200407/orourke ). of course he was. so am i. maybe he knew more than i was giving him credit for. hopefully i know more than you might be giving me credit for right now. either way, i am now for biased reporting because it is obvious. very little is hidden or tucked away from the reader/listener/viewer. sure, you may think the side given is insane, but you know where the author/publication stands. i appreciate that.
after feeling sorry myself about the price of international shipping rates for The New Yorker, i finally starting going to the website and printing articles to read. in the end the physical copy is preferred, but why spend all that money when i can get the same articles for free. when i go back to the states, which seems a certainty at any rate, i will order the physical copy of it. until then, i go to www.newyorker.com and read away.
if any of the previously mentioned publications would like to pay me for the above statements (whose bias should be obvious), i take cash and direct deposits.
03 September 2007
my 300th entry (of course this includes photos, which is kind of like cheating), so i think i will return to a topic i have often written about here. hair cuts.
in response to my friend´s query, my spanish is pretty good. perfect? definitely not.
in general i hate haircuts. i remember the good ol´days of university and even most of the time in cali and then in arizona (where i fondly remember ¨kitchen cuts¨ with a pair of school scissors and my hair in a pony tail) when i never needed a ¨professional¨ to cut my hair because it was long and anyone* could do it. *special note: when your barber says, ¨hey, i am gonna grab a beer, do you want one too?¨ say no. and then leave before the barber returns with her or his beer. i learned this lesson back in blacksburg, va when my friend courtface ¨of course i can cut your hair, i cut my sister´s all the time¨ killer was given the sheers and asked to ¨trim¨ a bit (like the use of passive voice to remove any guilt from the true agent-me- and placing all blame on the object). of course she began very well (again, all that is necessary is cutting, evenly, from one side to the other, and as my hair length was at my shoulders in all parts, this did not seem to be difficult to either of us), but as she reached the other side and the 2 to 3 inch difference in length was noticed, i lamented letting her have a beer before beginning (and not asking what number it was- 3, 4, 5?).
once i cut my hair off a few years ago, two actually, i thought it would be good to have short hair. hot climate and short hair= good. well, the problem is that you have to cut it every two months or so or it looks, well, crappé. not only is it a waste of time, but in oaxaca, land of 100 degree daily heat, it was a pain in the ass to find someone open during my lunch break (aka siesta for all businesses).
this all leads me to my last year here in the city. cool weather, lack of stifling humidity and a desire to extend the period between barber visits all had me in the mind of growing my hair longer. i am, as i remember my buddy jimmy describe in college so eloquently, in the awkward stage. not short enough to look dashing, not long enough to be a hippy, just right for ugly.
you would think that getting a haircut would help all of this. you would think a stylist could fix this for me and make life better. well, then start sending your donations because the last time i went to stylist to cut my hair and actually was happy with the result was over 6 years ago in charlottesville in preparation for my sis´s wedding. the experience was different, but the results cannot be denied. i am vain. unfortunately, i am also cheap. this results in me going for the cheapest cut around. so it goes.
last saturday i had made up my mind. scraggly, unkept and in dire need of some form, my hair was beginning to make its own demands. as usual, hair won.
i made my way past the barber shop on my street, site of two butcherings in the past year, and ventured into the previously locked sliding glass door of a one woman salon. my friend told me the woman was good, not perfect, but in my price range. as she later informed me, my frugality (read: cheapness) precluded her from recommending a better stylist (the one she goes to, paid for of course by her mother. would i were so lucky). no matter.
the cut was going well for the most part. she was doing generally what i asked and with help from my friend, who gave instructions also, we were well on our way to making the billy look somewhat respectable (key word: somewhat). there was no blood in sight and i had not stood up and stormed out, so all in all i could not complain.
then we came to the end. she had cut, although not exactly what i wanted, the general idea, as best i can explain it in spanish (although explaining haircuts without a photo is like me explaining the finer points of a petrarchan sonnet to an orangutan). i was pleased more or less.
the next words at first confused me, but i saw that she was actually touching the comb to my sideburns and assumed she was going to thin them out (hook up a fade like jimza back in the day). i told her sure and then could only sit in awe at the audacity of her next move.
instead of moving the electric razor in an upward motion, she touched the cutters to my skin and slid down. gone. an inch above the bottom lobe. vanished.
i think it was my mouth hanging open that tipped her off that she had done something to upset her client. staring at my reflection, and the white patch glowing on one side of my face, i came to a realization of some worth. not since i was 15 years old had i sported the no sideburns look. 14 years give or take. a damn long time. michael jordan was still kicking ass. the braves actually won a championship recently. bill clinton was still first term. alice in chains was awesome and pearl jam was still fairly new on the scene. in other words, i saw myself transported back in time. i find it only barely coincidental that i am teaching h.g. wells the time machine this semester.
my friend immediately began laughing behind me, which the mirror showed her to be in front of me. the lady with the sheers was not sure what to do. well, clearly there was not much to do. get the other side too. damn. unless she can make hair regrow in seconds, there was no real choice.
that first afternoon was unfortunate in that i spent at least 15 minutes dwelling on the past and all the good times my sideburns and i had. the swords. those were weird. the nike swoosh. worse. fat chops, unattractive but fun. the backward burn, the most recent. in all i could not stop looking at myself in the mirror. all i saw was a picture that sits on a desk in my father´s office in virginia from my first year at woodberry. my hair is about the same length and now my sideburns were too.
that first day i rationalized it by saying that in two weeks you would never know they were cut off. excised. ripped away.
but then i realized that i live in mexico and no one down here has known me for more than a year. to them, after 3-4 months of beard in the winter, not having sideburns would not be that strange. a day later the lack of burns was growing on me. i started to like it and two days later i shaved the ¨pre-burns¨ that i was already growing. the decision was made (for me).
so i write to you now as a younger man in many ways. of course, not in any of the ways that count, like age, but you know what i mean. or not.
all in all i am pretty pleased with myself at how well i am taking it. sure, there was the initial rude reaction and being pissed off at the lady. but, i learned a new word, patillas=sideburns, and now have a look i have not sported since the early 90´s. and i can laugh about it now. good times.
pictures will be coming soon.
in response to my friend´s query, my spanish is pretty good. perfect? definitely not.
in general i hate haircuts. i remember the good ol´days of university and even most of the time in cali and then in arizona (where i fondly remember ¨kitchen cuts¨ with a pair of school scissors and my hair in a pony tail) when i never needed a ¨professional¨ to cut my hair because it was long and anyone* could do it. *special note: when your barber says, ¨hey, i am gonna grab a beer, do you want one too?¨ say no. and then leave before the barber returns with her or his beer. i learned this lesson back in blacksburg, va when my friend courtface ¨of course i can cut your hair, i cut my sister´s all the time¨ killer was given the sheers and asked to ¨trim¨ a bit (like the use of passive voice to remove any guilt from the true agent-me- and placing all blame on the object). of course she began very well (again, all that is necessary is cutting, evenly, from one side to the other, and as my hair length was at my shoulders in all parts, this did not seem to be difficult to either of us), but as she reached the other side and the 2 to 3 inch difference in length was noticed, i lamented letting her have a beer before beginning (and not asking what number it was- 3, 4, 5?).
once i cut my hair off a few years ago, two actually, i thought it would be good to have short hair. hot climate and short hair= good. well, the problem is that you have to cut it every two months or so or it looks, well, crappé. not only is it a waste of time, but in oaxaca, land of 100 degree daily heat, it was a pain in the ass to find someone open during my lunch break (aka siesta for all businesses).
this all leads me to my last year here in the city. cool weather, lack of stifling humidity and a desire to extend the period between barber visits all had me in the mind of growing my hair longer. i am, as i remember my buddy jimmy describe in college so eloquently, in the awkward stage. not short enough to look dashing, not long enough to be a hippy, just right for ugly.
you would think that getting a haircut would help all of this. you would think a stylist could fix this for me and make life better. well, then start sending your donations because the last time i went to stylist to cut my hair and actually was happy with the result was over 6 years ago in charlottesville in preparation for my sis´s wedding. the experience was different, but the results cannot be denied. i am vain. unfortunately, i am also cheap. this results in me going for the cheapest cut around. so it goes.
last saturday i had made up my mind. scraggly, unkept and in dire need of some form, my hair was beginning to make its own demands. as usual, hair won.
i made my way past the barber shop on my street, site of two butcherings in the past year, and ventured into the previously locked sliding glass door of a one woman salon. my friend told me the woman was good, not perfect, but in my price range. as she later informed me, my frugality (read: cheapness) precluded her from recommending a better stylist (the one she goes to, paid for of course by her mother. would i were so lucky). no matter.
the cut was going well for the most part. she was doing generally what i asked and with help from my friend, who gave instructions also, we were well on our way to making the billy look somewhat respectable (key word: somewhat). there was no blood in sight and i had not stood up and stormed out, so all in all i could not complain.
then we came to the end. she had cut, although not exactly what i wanted, the general idea, as best i can explain it in spanish (although explaining haircuts without a photo is like me explaining the finer points of a petrarchan sonnet to an orangutan). i was pleased more or less.
the next words at first confused me, but i saw that she was actually touching the comb to my sideburns and assumed she was going to thin them out (hook up a fade like jimza back in the day). i told her sure and then could only sit in awe at the audacity of her next move.
instead of moving the electric razor in an upward motion, she touched the cutters to my skin and slid down. gone. an inch above the bottom lobe. vanished.
i think it was my mouth hanging open that tipped her off that she had done something to upset her client. staring at my reflection, and the white patch glowing on one side of my face, i came to a realization of some worth. not since i was 15 years old had i sported the no sideburns look. 14 years give or take. a damn long time. michael jordan was still kicking ass. the braves actually won a championship recently. bill clinton was still first term. alice in chains was awesome and pearl jam was still fairly new on the scene. in other words, i saw myself transported back in time. i find it only barely coincidental that i am teaching h.g. wells the time machine this semester.
my friend immediately began laughing behind me, which the mirror showed her to be in front of me. the lady with the sheers was not sure what to do. well, clearly there was not much to do. get the other side too. damn. unless she can make hair regrow in seconds, there was no real choice.
that first afternoon was unfortunate in that i spent at least 15 minutes dwelling on the past and all the good times my sideburns and i had. the swords. those were weird. the nike swoosh. worse. fat chops, unattractive but fun. the backward burn, the most recent. in all i could not stop looking at myself in the mirror. all i saw was a picture that sits on a desk in my father´s office in virginia from my first year at woodberry. my hair is about the same length and now my sideburns were too.
that first day i rationalized it by saying that in two weeks you would never know they were cut off. excised. ripped away.
but then i realized that i live in mexico and no one down here has known me for more than a year. to them, after 3-4 months of beard in the winter, not having sideburns would not be that strange. a day later the lack of burns was growing on me. i started to like it and two days later i shaved the ¨pre-burns¨ that i was already growing. the decision was made (for me).
so i write to you now as a younger man in many ways. of course, not in any of the ways that count, like age, but you know what i mean. or not.
all in all i am pretty pleased with myself at how well i am taking it. sure, there was the initial rude reaction and being pissed off at the lady. but, i learned a new word, patillas=sideburns, and now have a look i have not sported since the early 90´s. and i can laugh about it now. good times.
pictures will be coming soon.
31 August 2007
sweet action. now we are getting somewhere. catholic eh? from the frosty north as well (canada)? i dont think so; we dont trust canadians. jokes. we love canadians. in fact, when in a large crowd of people here i always say i am canadian. takes the tension off being from the states.
catholic. never expect a beard. two names come to mind, but i rule out the second, cuban b, because the first comment mentioned just finding the blog and that would not be the cuban. also, 30 is older than him. now, the other person, would probably be about 30. the catholic part i have no idea.
as i am a registered minister of the universal life church, i often hear people telling me that i can marry them one day (knowing full well that the wife, or husband as is the case, that has yet to be met would never, ever, allow such a thing. i still enjoy the offer, however, and take it as a compliment (deserved or not misses the point). the tasks of men of the cloth are never done.
another phrase struck me as odd. ¨i am as catholic as i am hindu.¨ quite possibly this is leading in the completely wrong direction, and i am pretty sure about that, but that comment makes me think the fiancée is hindu.
also, the clear reference to ween is not one to be missed. lovers of ween are not everywhere in this world. in fact, we are probably the minority.
i just thought of another person while writing all of this that makes more sense than my original idea. time to throw out the hindu wife idea.
do you like my chief inspector morse/ hercule poirot method of detection? i am rather impressed with myself. the hindu thing had me at first. but i am going to go with mr. clean. no hair and a beard? probably a good look. am i right timmay?
if not, i will keep guessing, but another clue or hint would be good.
catholic. never expect a beard. two names come to mind, but i rule out the second, cuban b, because the first comment mentioned just finding the blog and that would not be the cuban. also, 30 is older than him. now, the other person, would probably be about 30. the catholic part i have no idea.
as i am a registered minister of the universal life church, i often hear people telling me that i can marry them one day (knowing full well that the wife, or husband as is the case, that has yet to be met would never, ever, allow such a thing. i still enjoy the offer, however, and take it as a compliment (deserved or not misses the point). the tasks of men of the cloth are never done.
another phrase struck me as odd. ¨i am as catholic as i am hindu.¨ quite possibly this is leading in the completely wrong direction, and i am pretty sure about that, but that comment makes me think the fiancée is hindu.
also, the clear reference to ween is not one to be missed. lovers of ween are not everywhere in this world. in fact, we are probably the minority.
i just thought of another person while writing all of this that makes more sense than my original idea. time to throw out the hindu wife idea.
do you like my chief inspector morse/ hercule poirot method of detection? i am rather impressed with myself. the hindu thing had me at first. but i am going to go with mr. clean. no hair and a beard? probably a good look. am i right timmay?
if not, i will keep guessing, but another clue or hint would be good.
27 August 2007
i will be honest. i have no idea who that last commenter might be. any help?
it was someone who last saw me with long hair. which does not really narrow it down that much as almost anyone who has ever known me has known me with long hair. also, the person is a year older than me and apparently knows me well enough to know that i am having a bday soon. that does narrow it down some, but not enough. then, the person has a job (stop laughing) and a fiancé. now i am lost. my initial reaction was someone from arizona, and that still might be the case. i do like guessing games (although this peaches person never materialized and frustrated me to no end), so if you choose not to reveal your identity, at least give me another hint.
sick. sucks. i hate not being able to breathe through my nose. i decided to come in and give classes today because there is one class i absolutely cannot cancel and it starts at 130, so, i pretty much had little choice. i have been giving a quiz and writing assignment and letting them go after 25 minutes or so. good choice i think. at the very least i give the appearance of them doing something as opposed to just putting a sign on the door that says no class (which apparently also reads: Drop everything in your hands and begin to run screaming through the halls that English class is canceled and you have a free hour). so i opted out of that choice.
boring weekend because i was sick. boo.
i watched ¨breakfast at tiffany´s¨ with my friend this weekend. now, i did not dislike the movie, i will say that. but, my friend liked it much more than me and as she was near tears at the end i was simply hoping Fred (Paul) had truly given up on miss golightly and that he would go find the cat and resume his previous life. no such luck. my favorite part was the library scene where fred and holly are constantly told to be quiet and on the way out holly says that ¨this place isn´t half as much as Tiffany´s¨. i might have to agree, although i have never been to Tiffany´s. libraries are rarely the scene of something exciting (although i used to go the library when i was in grad school in arizona just to sleep in their comfy chairs for a few hours in between classes).
so i now i have seen a movie oft referenced. it is easy to see some of its influence on other films as well. indeed, it is rare to see a strong female character who lives as she pleases during that era (on film at least). paul annoyed me more than anything with his goody twoshoes attitude, but i digress. on the whole, it was not a bad movie (i thought it might be), but only once was there a reference to bernard shaw´s play ¨pygmalion¨(the part where holly´s agent mentioned that it took him an entire year to teach her to speak english properly and he only managed it by first teaching her french) and i thought there would be more than that.
i know. if you wanted movie reviews you would go read something else on the internet. i am done. i blame the cold medicine. and waking up every two hours while trying to sleep. evil children. i told my students it was their fault i was sick. they did not like the idea but were quickly silenced as i told them that any dissent on their part would mean a lower grade on their quizzes. we read a story, ¨the lady or the tiger¨ which has an interesting brand of justice in it so they were writing about justice. i proffered the idea that my getting sick was justice because my students were sick first and so i deserved to share their fate. one rather bright student replied that my version of justice was punishing them because i had to suffer with being sick. while earning her no extra points on the quiz, it did make me feel good to know that someone understands me just a little.
here is to hoping your monday is sicky-free, unlike mine.
it was someone who last saw me with long hair. which does not really narrow it down that much as almost anyone who has ever known me has known me with long hair. also, the person is a year older than me and apparently knows me well enough to know that i am having a bday soon. that does narrow it down some, but not enough. then, the person has a job (stop laughing) and a fiancé. now i am lost. my initial reaction was someone from arizona, and that still might be the case. i do like guessing games (although this peaches person never materialized and frustrated me to no end), so if you choose not to reveal your identity, at least give me another hint.
sick. sucks. i hate not being able to breathe through my nose. i decided to come in and give classes today because there is one class i absolutely cannot cancel and it starts at 130, so, i pretty much had little choice. i have been giving a quiz and writing assignment and letting them go after 25 minutes or so. good choice i think. at the very least i give the appearance of them doing something as opposed to just putting a sign on the door that says no class (which apparently also reads: Drop everything in your hands and begin to run screaming through the halls that English class is canceled and you have a free hour). so i opted out of that choice.
boring weekend because i was sick. boo.
i watched ¨breakfast at tiffany´s¨ with my friend this weekend. now, i did not dislike the movie, i will say that. but, my friend liked it much more than me and as she was near tears at the end i was simply hoping Fred (Paul) had truly given up on miss golightly and that he would go find the cat and resume his previous life. no such luck. my favorite part was the library scene where fred and holly are constantly told to be quiet and on the way out holly says that ¨this place isn´t half as much as Tiffany´s¨. i might have to agree, although i have never been to Tiffany´s. libraries are rarely the scene of something exciting (although i used to go the library when i was in grad school in arizona just to sleep in their comfy chairs for a few hours in between classes).
so i now i have seen a movie oft referenced. it is easy to see some of its influence on other films as well. indeed, it is rare to see a strong female character who lives as she pleases during that era (on film at least). paul annoyed me more than anything with his goody twoshoes attitude, but i digress. on the whole, it was not a bad movie (i thought it might be), but only once was there a reference to bernard shaw´s play ¨pygmalion¨(the part where holly´s agent mentioned that it took him an entire year to teach her to speak english properly and he only managed it by first teaching her french) and i thought there would be more than that.
i know. if you wanted movie reviews you would go read something else on the internet. i am done. i blame the cold medicine. and waking up every two hours while trying to sleep. evil children. i told my students it was their fault i was sick. they did not like the idea but were quickly silenced as i told them that any dissent on their part would mean a lower grade on their quizzes. we read a story, ¨the lady or the tiger¨ which has an interesting brand of justice in it so they were writing about justice. i proffered the idea that my getting sick was justice because my students were sick first and so i deserved to share their fate. one rather bright student replied that my version of justice was punishing them because i had to suffer with being sick. while earning her no extra points on the quiz, it did make me feel good to know that someone understands me just a little.
here is to hoping your monday is sicky-free, unlike mine.
25 August 2007
rather amazing now that i think about it: i have completed two years in mexico. when i arrived two years ago, things were very different in my life. i imagined spending maybe one year here and then moving on to another country. strange that now i am very happy where i am and in the school (what an incredible difference there is where i live and work now compared to my first year) where i teach and that i am considering being here for a few more years, possibly 3 or more (depending on a phd program here).
two years ago i never would have considered teaching high school again. now, i love the school where i work and actually enjoy teaching high school students. most of this is due to the high academic standards the school has and that most of my students are motivated to learn, but overall i cannot believe i enjoy teaching people this age. strange.
i celebrated my two year anniversary by going to the pharmacy and buying cold medicine and then coming home and going to bed at 9pm because once again i have gotten sick. i would like to blame the 2500 students at the high school where i work for this. things might be different if i worked in an office with only 30 other people. oh well. tough shit. i made my bed.
last night i proctored a toefl exam and i am back again this morning doing the same. sometimes i get frustrated working so much, but knowing i have a lot of debt from grad school to pay off helps motivate me. plus, while giving the exam i can do other things like grade exams and quizzes, plan lessons and write on this bloggy.
i have no idea who reads this thing anymore. i am guessing the cuban b is still around because one of the comments, though nameless, sounded like him referring to bikes and brews. if you are still out there, cheers cuban b. hope your second year in the phd program at iowa goes well for you. jimza is still around also. and my sisters and pops.
this might now be a blog for 6 people. oh well. not like i add very much to it with any frequency anymore. i might compare this to a relationship. in the beginning, when you are still getting to know each other, you want to spend all your time with the other person. find out as much about them as you can and think that there is never enough time in the day or night to fit it all in. just being together for ten minutes (writing 2 sentences in this case) is enough and yet painful in that you know it is not enough.
as the weeks turn into months and then a year or more, you start to slow down. instead of looking to do everything together, you just do it that way. there is no more excitement and you let down your defenses (rambling, boring posts that say nothing but are there to show that i am still here and have some allegiance to the blog) to an extent. but mainly you become more judgmental and find yourself more rude than anything else with the other. you find excuses not hang out (i am too busy to write, i have a life now, etc.), but in those moments when you are doing nothing or waiting for the next thing to begin, you realize that it was all pretext and that the free exists but the inclination does not.
yet we continue in this manner. waiting for the other person to give up (blogger to fail) becomes the new pass time. droll, mundane, time actually seems to slow down because there is no more anticipation and nothing ¨new¨ to come of anything.
or maybe it is just me.
i have never held a job for more than 21 months consecutively. of course i have a long way to go before i break that record, but these are strange things about me. i have now lived in my apartment here in mexico city for almost 12 months. the last time i lived in one apt for 12 months was when i lived with my girlfriend in san francisco. before that was in blacksburg 3 years earlier. is everyone else like this? i have an idea what this says about me but i choose to see the positive side: i like change and avoid the routine for any extended period of time. i will be 29 soon; am i getting too old to be like this? if so, i guess it is too damn bad because i dont see these traits disappearing overnight.
those are my thoughts on this sunny morning here in one of the biggest cities of the world resting in a valley at over 8000ft. i wonder if my 3 year anniversary will show me that i have found a routine. will i be in the same city at the same school? will i be in a phd program? will i be in another country?
i love that these questions will not be answered until i am ready to answer them. there is no predetermined timetable. the plane leaves when i want it to. or i just find another one.
two years ago i never would have considered teaching high school again. now, i love the school where i work and actually enjoy teaching high school students. most of this is due to the high academic standards the school has and that most of my students are motivated to learn, but overall i cannot believe i enjoy teaching people this age. strange.
i celebrated my two year anniversary by going to the pharmacy and buying cold medicine and then coming home and going to bed at 9pm because once again i have gotten sick. i would like to blame the 2500 students at the high school where i work for this. things might be different if i worked in an office with only 30 other people. oh well. tough shit. i made my bed.
last night i proctored a toefl exam and i am back again this morning doing the same. sometimes i get frustrated working so much, but knowing i have a lot of debt from grad school to pay off helps motivate me. plus, while giving the exam i can do other things like grade exams and quizzes, plan lessons and write on this bloggy.
i have no idea who reads this thing anymore. i am guessing the cuban b is still around because one of the comments, though nameless, sounded like him referring to bikes and brews. if you are still out there, cheers cuban b. hope your second year in the phd program at iowa goes well for you. jimza is still around also. and my sisters and pops.
this might now be a blog for 6 people. oh well. not like i add very much to it with any frequency anymore. i might compare this to a relationship. in the beginning, when you are still getting to know each other, you want to spend all your time with the other person. find out as much about them as you can and think that there is never enough time in the day or night to fit it all in. just being together for ten minutes (writing 2 sentences in this case) is enough and yet painful in that you know it is not enough.
as the weeks turn into months and then a year or more, you start to slow down. instead of looking to do everything together, you just do it that way. there is no more excitement and you let down your defenses (rambling, boring posts that say nothing but are there to show that i am still here and have some allegiance to the blog) to an extent. but mainly you become more judgmental and find yourself more rude than anything else with the other. you find excuses not hang out (i am too busy to write, i have a life now, etc.), but in those moments when you are doing nothing or waiting for the next thing to begin, you realize that it was all pretext and that the free exists but the inclination does not.
yet we continue in this manner. waiting for the other person to give up (blogger to fail) becomes the new pass time. droll, mundane, time actually seems to slow down because there is no more anticipation and nothing ¨new¨ to come of anything.
or maybe it is just me.
i have never held a job for more than 21 months consecutively. of course i have a long way to go before i break that record, but these are strange things about me. i have now lived in my apartment here in mexico city for almost 12 months. the last time i lived in one apt for 12 months was when i lived with my girlfriend in san francisco. before that was in blacksburg 3 years earlier. is everyone else like this? i have an idea what this says about me but i choose to see the positive side: i like change and avoid the routine for any extended period of time. i will be 29 soon; am i getting too old to be like this? if so, i guess it is too damn bad because i dont see these traits disappearing overnight.
those are my thoughts on this sunny morning here in one of the biggest cities of the world resting in a valley at over 8000ft. i wonder if my 3 year anniversary will show me that i have found a routine. will i be in the same city at the same school? will i be in a phd program? will i be in another country?
i love that these questions will not be answered until i am ready to answer them. there is no predetermined timetable. the plane leaves when i want it to. or i just find another one.
01 August 2007
here is yet another foto of the poliforo siqueiros. in the background is the world trade center. the black cylinder on top is a restaurant called felinis. the cool thing is that it slowly rotates in a circle giving a decent view of the city. they have really good cosmopolitans and martinis. i dont drink those, but my friends tell me they are amazing. the negative is that it is super pricey, hence i dont frequent it.
this was taken last week at an event where the 3 on the left were dj´s. iván is from mexico city, ellie and neill, from under the aqueduct fame, are from north carolina, billy is from madison mills, and karla, on my right, is from mexico city. the even was really cool in that they were playing a horror movie upstairs in a huge auditorium and outside there was music and free food (catered by an outstanding seafood restaurant in the city called contramar) and inside downstairs was artwork, mainly photos. the forum itself was designed by an architect whose name escapes me, and the artwork done by one of mexicos most famous artists, siqueiros. a picture of the poliforo siqueiros is above to the left (obviously not the one with the people in it).
17 July 2007
i dont know how i forgot to write about this when i was in new mexico last month, but i did.
we were in taos, which is a small town with ski resort and one of the oldest still occupied dwellings in the usa (the taos people have lived there for about a 1000 years i believe). cool place to visit if you find yourself in new mexico and want to see indigenous housing that is still in use and well preserved.
anyway, we were in taos for the afternoon because we got out of class early and there was a bus going that way from the campus (and as the campus was 5 miles from the nearest town, there was that desire to escape). after a thoroughly obnoxious 2 hour bus ride in a high school type bus (uncomfortable), we spent about 2 hours at the small reservation. then, with about 2 hrs more to kill before returning to summer camp (pretty much it was summer camp in that everyone ate at the cafeteria, and you had to get there with your friends or you would be sitting with the losers-arguably as we were all teachers we were all losers, but i digress.) i was with a texan, a canadian (we teach in mexico) and a guy from mexico (he teaches in houston). we walked around for a while looking at the cheap crap on sale at every little store (who doesn´t want their name engraved on a cheap key ring!) and then we decided to eat.
there was a little restaurant close by, and as i had pretty much determined to eat appetisers everywhere i went in the usa because my favorite food from the usa is still bar food, i flipped through the menu looking for some sampler platter. to my surprise they had fat tire (new belgium brewery out of northern colorado) beer and i was stoked. this was once my favorite beer, at the very least favorite beer company, in the usa and it was happy hour so it was cheap. i made some stupid comment about how much i loved the beer and my friends decided to get it as well because i recommended it so highly.
the waitress arrives and i was so excited i jumped at the hesitation by the others to order first.
¨fat tire, please.¨ ¨sure, can i see your id first?¨
what? id. i am 28 years old.
¨sorry, new mexico state law requires me to see everyone´s id¨
no shit. i worked at a bar for years in college, i know the law. but damn, no one actually follows that law. if they did, where would tips come from? how would 19 yr olds go out and have fun with their older friends?
my friends produced their passports and i sat there looking stupid.
about a year ago i decided to stop carrying a wallet as a precaution against theivery and general imbecility (loss). since then, i dont use any identification when i go anywhere. i carry cash and sometimes a bank card. i went to buy some clothes with my friends a few weeks ago and was confronted for the first time in mexico by someone asking me for an id to accompany my card. i was more shocked that they would not sell me the clothes without the id and i cursed them as i left the store, swearing never to return. and i shant.
thus, carrying a passport outside of the airport was not even a consideration. wtf? i am, dammit, 28 years old.
immediately i thought back to the beard days and wished i still had it.
the waitress got back around to me and asked for my id again.
my first question was if they had sweet tea. no.
i ordered water.
then i remembered how kids under 21 drink with their friends who are older. my friend from texas arranged all the drinks in the center of the round table, then, she quietly passed me her beer.
we were in taos, which is a small town with ski resort and one of the oldest still occupied dwellings in the usa (the taos people have lived there for about a 1000 years i believe). cool place to visit if you find yourself in new mexico and want to see indigenous housing that is still in use and well preserved.
anyway, we were in taos for the afternoon because we got out of class early and there was a bus going that way from the campus (and as the campus was 5 miles from the nearest town, there was that desire to escape). after a thoroughly obnoxious 2 hour bus ride in a high school type bus (uncomfortable), we spent about 2 hours at the small reservation. then, with about 2 hrs more to kill before returning to summer camp (pretty much it was summer camp in that everyone ate at the cafeteria, and you had to get there with your friends or you would be sitting with the losers-arguably as we were all teachers we were all losers, but i digress.) i was with a texan, a canadian (we teach in mexico) and a guy from mexico (he teaches in houston). we walked around for a while looking at the cheap crap on sale at every little store (who doesn´t want their name engraved on a cheap key ring!) and then we decided to eat.
there was a little restaurant close by, and as i had pretty much determined to eat appetisers everywhere i went in the usa because my favorite food from the usa is still bar food, i flipped through the menu looking for some sampler platter. to my surprise they had fat tire (new belgium brewery out of northern colorado) beer and i was stoked. this was once my favorite beer, at the very least favorite beer company, in the usa and it was happy hour so it was cheap. i made some stupid comment about how much i loved the beer and my friends decided to get it as well because i recommended it so highly.
the waitress arrives and i was so excited i jumped at the hesitation by the others to order first.
¨fat tire, please.¨ ¨sure, can i see your id first?¨
what? id. i am 28 years old.
¨sorry, new mexico state law requires me to see everyone´s id¨
no shit. i worked at a bar for years in college, i know the law. but damn, no one actually follows that law. if they did, where would tips come from? how would 19 yr olds go out and have fun with their older friends?
my friends produced their passports and i sat there looking stupid.
about a year ago i decided to stop carrying a wallet as a precaution against theivery and general imbecility (loss). since then, i dont use any identification when i go anywhere. i carry cash and sometimes a bank card. i went to buy some clothes with my friends a few weeks ago and was confronted for the first time in mexico by someone asking me for an id to accompany my card. i was more shocked that they would not sell me the clothes without the id and i cursed them as i left the store, swearing never to return. and i shant.
thus, carrying a passport outside of the airport was not even a consideration. wtf? i am, dammit, 28 years old.
immediately i thought back to the beard days and wished i still had it.
the waitress got back around to me and asked for my id again.
my first question was if they had sweet tea. no.
i ordered water.
then i remembered how kids under 21 drink with their friends who are older. my friend from texas arranged all the drinks in the center of the round table, then, she quietly passed me her beer.
13 July 2007
strange to think that in less than one week i will be in virginia. my friends from here ask me if am going to be nervous going home. i dont think i am but, it is still a long way away so maybe i am just not thinking about it yet.
this week and next i am pretty much by myself on campus. all the full-time profs are on vacation, except one or two, so the buildings are pretty much empty. i love it. it is nice to read in my office and know that no one will be by to bother me. because i am just starting full time, i dont get the two week summer vacation, but it is cool with me because i am still getting paid this summer. unlike last summer when i made no cash for about 1.5 months. also, i worked a lot of hours last semester, so i have saved a good bit of money anyway. although working the entire time means i dont go away to visit other places so that means i am not really spending any loot. anyway.
i must say that pirate dvd´s have taken over the lives of myself and a few friends. 2bucks for a movie? sweet action.
recently we watched rome, from hbo. i was sad that the second season meant the end of the show, but it has also been one of the best shows i have seen recently. of course, battlestar galactica is amazing. there are about 10 of us who have seen all the episodes and have strange dialogues that most people dont understand who never saw the show. but you know this has all happened before and it will all happen again.
currently, i am watching deadwood and the wire from hbo. both are great.
in the end, it was a choice between crappy dubbed televesion (desperate housewives, ghost wisperer- i hope you dont know this show-, bones, gray´s anatomy, dr house, and telenovelas. i still like the novelas, i have to admit, but it is so much better to watch tv without commercials.
i love the weather in this town during the summer. the mornings are chilly, around 55-60, and the days never really get over 88. nearly perfect. it rains, monsoon style, almost every afternoon between 5 and 8, for about an hour and then everything is nice and cool at night. mosquitos do suck, but what can you do. could be worse.
well, i have another two hours to kill so i am off to the library to rent some dvd´s for the weekend.
this week and next i am pretty much by myself on campus. all the full-time profs are on vacation, except one or two, so the buildings are pretty much empty. i love it. it is nice to read in my office and know that no one will be by to bother me. because i am just starting full time, i dont get the two week summer vacation, but it is cool with me because i am still getting paid this summer. unlike last summer when i made no cash for about 1.5 months. also, i worked a lot of hours last semester, so i have saved a good bit of money anyway. although working the entire time means i dont go away to visit other places so that means i am not really spending any loot. anyway.
i must say that pirate dvd´s have taken over the lives of myself and a few friends. 2bucks for a movie? sweet action.
recently we watched rome, from hbo. i was sad that the second season meant the end of the show, but it has also been one of the best shows i have seen recently. of course, battlestar galactica is amazing. there are about 10 of us who have seen all the episodes and have strange dialogues that most people dont understand who never saw the show. but you know this has all happened before and it will all happen again.
currently, i am watching deadwood and the wire from hbo. both are great.
in the end, it was a choice between crappy dubbed televesion (desperate housewives, ghost wisperer- i hope you dont know this show-, bones, gray´s anatomy, dr house, and telenovelas. i still like the novelas, i have to admit, but it is so much better to watch tv without commercials.
i love the weather in this town during the summer. the mornings are chilly, around 55-60, and the days never really get over 88. nearly perfect. it rains, monsoon style, almost every afternoon between 5 and 8, for about an hour and then everything is nice and cool at night. mosquitos do suck, but what can you do. could be worse.
well, i have another two hours to kill so i am off to the library to rent some dvd´s for the weekend.
09 July 2007
rainded out. this is what happens when you wake up extremely early, eat a lot of food, play football and frisbee in the rain and then find out that the rain is not going to stop and you must drive 2hrs back home. we all managed to stay upright because our shoulders are wedged together (in other words, we fell asleep). forks? well, that is a funny story....
pretty much the coolest guys in town (left to right: rafa, neill, billy, clark). this is a great shot where all of us are looking in different directions (it is about 8am, we have been up since 415 or so). this is a small town near sahagun where the acueduct is and where you can buy goods. the day looked perfect at 8am. things change rather quickly in the mountains (we are around 9500 - 10000 feet).
03 July 2007
stemming from the start of my last entry is this: the world seems to wait years in between major events. lots of years between world war 1 and 2, am i right?
the point? after two years, the billy returns. ok, i did go back to the usa two weeks ago for a conference, but that does not really count. i saw no one i knew, and hung out with teachers and worked. not a real visit. plus, the people harassed me at the airport about why i had been absent for two years from the usa. what do i do in mexico? teach. why? umm... how long am i staying? 5 days. why so short? i have to go back to work.
and so on.
anyway, i return july 19th and leave the 24th (thurs arrival, tues departure). if you are available and able, come to va and see me. i will regale you with lively tales and treat you to some salsa i am bringingback. watch me struggle in public as i randomly speak spanish to people because it has been two years since i bought anything without speaking spanish. i think it will be amusing. it may be the last time you see me with short hair for a while also, and that, in itself, is a treat. or not.
right. i hope you can make it. if you cannot, i will understand (but secretly curse you- i also have many many stories of witchcraft which i am, literally, afraid to write on this blog for fear that something might happen to me).
two years is a lot, especially if you are a dog (because then it is 14).
the point? after two years, the billy returns. ok, i did go back to the usa two weeks ago for a conference, but that does not really count. i saw no one i knew, and hung out with teachers and worked. not a real visit. plus, the people harassed me at the airport about why i had been absent for two years from the usa. what do i do in mexico? teach. why? umm... how long am i staying? 5 days. why so short? i have to go back to work.
and so on.
anyway, i return july 19th and leave the 24th (thurs arrival, tues departure). if you are available and able, come to va and see me. i will regale you with lively tales and treat you to some salsa i am bringingback. watch me struggle in public as i randomly speak spanish to people because it has been two years since i bought anything without speaking spanish. i think it will be amusing. it may be the last time you see me with short hair for a while also, and that, in itself, is a treat. or not.
right. i hope you can make it. if you cannot, i will understand (but secretly curse you- i also have many many stories of witchcraft which i am, literally, afraid to write on this blog for fear that something might happen to me).
two years is a lot, especially if you are a dog (because then it is 14).
interesting thing about the world in general that the usa does not really share. sporting events, major events, take place every few years. world cup: 4 years in between. copa america: 3 years. america´s cup (sailing): ni (no idea, but it is not every year).
my point is that the rest of the world seems to have more patience than we do in the states. super bowl: every 12 months. every major sporting event has championships every year. ok, mexican soccer has 2 champions a year, but that is off the point.
perhaps this is why when i go to take a shower at 7am and there is no water, no one else seems overly concerned. i roll into work looking dishevelled and rather rough, but then again, it is summer. i really cannot describe to you, have you never experienced it, the feeling of having shampoo in your hair, soap under your arms and no way to rinse it away. just getting your eyes open at that point aint so simple. you must find the towel, and if you are like me and shower immediately after waking, you really are not quite awake yet, so that damn towel could be anywhere and the longer you take to find it the more searing pain you feel as the soap works to clean two objects that were never meant to be cleaned with soap. i am talking about the eyes here people. sensitive.
if you are up for something different, i have an idea for those of you who live with others. roommmates, wife and children (jam dougherty i am looking at you on this one, of course i do no believe you have not sired a youngun´ somewhere along the line), if you are in mexico, mother, father, sister, brother, uncle, aunt, grandparent, cousin, etc. all of these would work.
step 1. reconnoiter your property (i count rental property as your own as long as you occupy it). get to know things like the electrical box, plumbing pipes and, while you are at it, learn how to turn the hot water heater on and off. these are good basic things to know. they have nothing to do with our experiment, but consider step 1 the precursor; you cant take calculus without algebra can you? can you? this is a question people.
step 2. now that you are familiar with pipes and such, you probably know that you can shut those pipes and restrict, nay stop, the flow of water coming from said pipes.
step 3. yes, you know where this is going, but continue with the steps. it is about the process. the journey not the destination. the path not the... whatever, you get it.
step 3. (the last step was not really a step) wait until someone gets in the shower and turn off all televisions and radios. wait maybe 3 minutes. if possible, talk to the person in the shower and find out where they are in the cleaning process (shampoo, conditioner-if they use it- soap, shaving, etc.). ideally, you want shampoo in the hair and soap on the body. this may or not be possible, but you know, we all gotta have goals in life.
step 4. find that shutoff valve and close it. slowly. you want to do this slowly because you want the person in the shower to hope the water will come back. if you are really cunning and creative (notice i am not using words like ¨cruel¨ ¨evil¨ ¨ruthless¨ ¨heartless¨ or any of these pejoratives you might be considering) then you will shut off the water only partway, then turn it back on. if you have you turned off all electic appliances (and sent any children outside), you may hear sound wonderful sounds of anger and disbelief coming from the bathroom. this will be the person in the shower coming to terms with the unexpected. do not shy away from this. embrace it as a fruit of your labor.
step 5. once shut off, run, do not walk, to the bathroom (with a camera if possible).
step 6. enter noisily. dont try to hide anything. let the profanity be your guide here. snap your pictures (digital, film and mental) and laugh and laugh and laugh.
step 7. depending on the stage of undress, send me the pictures. or, better yet, start a blog and post them on the internet.
step 8. never tell the other person how to turn the water off. you may have to lie at this point. stand firm. you are morally right on this (say that if necessary and then tell the person, if they dare question how you are ¨morally right¨ that even asking that question of you means they have much to learn. drop them a copy of aristotle´s ¨nichomachean ethics¨ or even ¨crito¨written by plato. they will never read it, so you are totally safe and, of course, morally superior. if they do read it, well, send me an email and we can discuss your options and i will send you some other authors to peruse, namely nietzsche, who will fill you with a sense of superiority no matter what).
feel free to thank me later for this idea. onwards and upwards.
my point is that the rest of the world seems to have more patience than we do in the states. super bowl: every 12 months. every major sporting event has championships every year. ok, mexican soccer has 2 champions a year, but that is off the point.
perhaps this is why when i go to take a shower at 7am and there is no water, no one else seems overly concerned. i roll into work looking dishevelled and rather rough, but then again, it is summer. i really cannot describe to you, have you never experienced it, the feeling of having shampoo in your hair, soap under your arms and no way to rinse it away. just getting your eyes open at that point aint so simple. you must find the towel, and if you are like me and shower immediately after waking, you really are not quite awake yet, so that damn towel could be anywhere and the longer you take to find it the more searing pain you feel as the soap works to clean two objects that were never meant to be cleaned with soap. i am talking about the eyes here people. sensitive.
if you are up for something different, i have an idea for those of you who live with others. roommmates, wife and children (jam dougherty i am looking at you on this one, of course i do no believe you have not sired a youngun´ somewhere along the line), if you are in mexico, mother, father, sister, brother, uncle, aunt, grandparent, cousin, etc. all of these would work.
step 1. reconnoiter your property (i count rental property as your own as long as you occupy it). get to know things like the electrical box, plumbing pipes and, while you are at it, learn how to turn the hot water heater on and off. these are good basic things to know. they have nothing to do with our experiment, but consider step 1 the precursor; you cant take calculus without algebra can you? can you? this is a question people.
step 2. now that you are familiar with pipes and such, you probably know that you can shut those pipes and restrict, nay stop, the flow of water coming from said pipes.
step 3. yes, you know where this is going, but continue with the steps. it is about the process. the journey not the destination. the path not the... whatever, you get it.
step 3. (the last step was not really a step) wait until someone gets in the shower and turn off all televisions and radios. wait maybe 3 minutes. if possible, talk to the person in the shower and find out where they are in the cleaning process (shampoo, conditioner-if they use it- soap, shaving, etc.). ideally, you want shampoo in the hair and soap on the body. this may or not be possible, but you know, we all gotta have goals in life.
step 4. find that shutoff valve and close it. slowly. you want to do this slowly because you want the person in the shower to hope the water will come back. if you are really cunning and creative (notice i am not using words like ¨cruel¨ ¨evil¨ ¨ruthless¨ ¨heartless¨ or any of these pejoratives you might be considering) then you will shut off the water only partway, then turn it back on. if you have you turned off all electic appliances (and sent any children outside), you may hear sound wonderful sounds of anger and disbelief coming from the bathroom. this will be the person in the shower coming to terms with the unexpected. do not shy away from this. embrace it as a fruit of your labor.
step 5. once shut off, run, do not walk, to the bathroom (with a camera if possible).
step 6. enter noisily. dont try to hide anything. let the profanity be your guide here. snap your pictures (digital, film and mental) and laugh and laugh and laugh.
step 7. depending on the stage of undress, send me the pictures. or, better yet, start a blog and post them on the internet.
step 8. never tell the other person how to turn the water off. you may have to lie at this point. stand firm. you are morally right on this (say that if necessary and then tell the person, if they dare question how you are ¨morally right¨ that even asking that question of you means they have much to learn. drop them a copy of aristotle´s ¨nichomachean ethics¨ or even ¨crito¨written by plato. they will never read it, so you are totally safe and, of course, morally superior. if they do read it, well, send me an email and we can discuss your options and i will send you some other authors to peruse, namely nietzsche, who will fill you with a sense of superiority no matter what).
feel free to thank me later for this idea. onwards and upwards.
28 June 2007
21 hours ago i was livid. or, to use an expression i often heard my father and anthony say, i was hot.
first, let´s go back 46 hours. the office secretary came by and gave me a slip of paper. she did so casually, as though there were nothing special about it, and sauntered off to do whatever it is she does. noticing that in my hands was a note from the postal service of mexico, i was pleased because the package my sister amy sent had arrived. finally. then i noticed the date, june 18 (this was june 26th), and that the slip said ¨second notice.¨
i had left for the states on june 18th, so if this was the second notice, the first should have arrived at least 4 days earlier. june 14 saw me at school, teaching, normal routine. where was notice the first?
unable to make it to the post office before it closed (did i mention i was offered a full-time position at my school on this same afternoon?), i put off the trip for the next day. one day. big deal.
my friend gave me a ride to the post office and i arrived 15minutes before closing time. when i left 40 minutes later, i was, to say the least, nonplussed.
as i handed the woman behind the counter my slip, she asked me for my id. she wrote my passport number down on the paper i gave her and shuffled off to find my package.
do you ever think you know when there is going to be a problem? you order food, without onions would be a great example because onions are evil, and yet you know when it arrives that the food will have onions. people might call you paranoid, negative, a pain in the ass, whatever, but you know you are right. and then, when the food arrives, fucked up, you look to the other person to confirm that you were right. but, being right, does not make you happy. if anything, it pisses you off even more. naturally, you seek a vent for this frustration. profanity? depends on the scene. surly attitude toward any and all ¨help¨? definitely.
thus, as the older lady returned and informed more than asked that i had already received the package, i looked to my friend, who, alas, stayed in the car, and then paused before responding.
¨no¨
sometimes it is very pleasing that english and spanish coincide so. it was perhaps, i see it now, my pause that made her hesitate. she opened a red book with lots of lines, pages, signatures, and other scribblings of, probably, the five year olds who run el servicio postal mexicano.
¨look again¨ i said as curtly as possible. she complied and, if it were possible, crawled into the back room. clearly, i was ready to jump the counter, damn the sign informing that the area was for authorized personnel only. i refrained as the man with the uzi, i shit you not he carried an uzi, outside the door somehow calmed me.
i was then informed that my package had indeed been picked up already. i told her as cooly as possibly that my twin did not live in this country and either way, we spelled our first names differently. this confused her just long enough to prove to me she was at least listening.
five minutes later she returned from the overseer´s office (i think he is probably like 7yrs old) and motioned me to enter.
was this a trap? would the uzi man gun me down as i crossed the line into another world, a realm without reason where packages are distributed willnilly on a first come first served basis? no. it was not.
amazingly, i think the overseer was inclined to think that showing me a photocopy of identification of the person who retrieved a package clearly addressed to william davis would assuage my growing hostility. hmm. alberto flores zamora. well, we both have two ¨l´s¨ in our names at some point. looking into the eyes of the head of such an organized and professional outfit, i saw the one thing i knew i could never fight against and win.
indeed, what i saw in his eyes is not something you easily forget, nor is it easily feigned (although i certainly do not rule out he feels this way, or acts like it, daily). i restated the obvious to him hoping his look would change.
¨so you are telling me the mexican postal service gave a package addressed to william davis to alberto flores? what, then, is the purpose of showing you an id? can i have someone else´s package? i will show you my id first.¨
no, sarcasm went right past this one, as i feared it would, because he was, sadly, simple. in his eyes i saw that he did not really understand. he believed in what he had done. to him, he acted like loyal employee and faithful worker. on the package were the words ¨itesm¨. this is where i work. alberto flores told him he worked for itesm. ergo, the package went to the correct person.
flabbergasted and rather deflated, i accepted the situation as it was (you cannot browbeat a child who does not understand what it did was wrong any more than you should whip a horse for wanting the apple in your hand). what, praytell, did the mexi postal servce intend to do? well, first i needed to write explaining i wanted the matter looked into by them.
right.
did i have a pen on me, inquired the cretin. no (of course i did, but i was going to take his and keep it).
sitting at the desk, so kind that he offered me a seat, i thought of how i wanted to word the letter. oh, he told me what i needed to write, but i brushed aside his advice in favor of something more, how shall i put it, more strongly worded.
did i know that this letter would never leave that office? that no matter what i asked for i would not receive? that the mexi postal service ¨team¨ no more interest in me than i have in embroidery? yes. did i feel the need to release some hostility? indeed (a huevo- this is rather vulgar so i dont suggest repeating it the next time your spanish speaking server asks you if you would like another beverage, more salsa or the check).
¨i, william davis, arrived at the mexican postal service on (address) today at 1645 hours to retrieve a package. unfortunately, the workers of the m.p.s. had decided to give my package to alberto flores zamora of (address) without my consent or knowledge. acting for more me is not something i ever wanted the mps, or (and here i wrote the names of the kind staff who had assisted me so far) to do, nor would i ever like them to do so in the future.
negligence (i asked the overseer how to spell this word, to which he looked quite surprised and somewhat taken aback before slowly spelling it for me) by the staff of the m.p.s. is clear in this case; therefore, i request that said staff look for and find alberto flores zamora. then, i want my package delivered, preferably intact, by whom is not important, to me at (school address).
sincerely,
william davis
so ya, that took me about 10 minutes to write (partially because i knew the longer i was there, the longer they had to wait around (they closed at 5)). i watched as the mexi postal service´s chief intelligence officer perused my written request and smiled as he savored my description of the handling of events.
he then told me some bullshit about the how they were going to seriously look into the matter and get something done. as i had already copied down alberto´s home address and full name, i nodded and wished him luck in finding the package. i was assured that it would be found and delivered to me with all the haste within the power of the postal service (my friend sent me a letter when she was in chihuahua- this is part of mexico- 5 weeks ago and i have still not received it).
my anger had mostly subsided but disappointment grew in its stead. apparently, someone from my school had gone to the postal service after the third notice to get my package and deliver it to me. why had alberto waited three days without informing me? was alberto even an employee? was that even his name (i mentioned, i believe, my trip to where fake id´s are made, and the amazing authenticity they seem to possess)? where was the package? would someone else be ankle deep in russel stover coconut nest packages with traces of chocoloate on their cheeks and the stray jelly bean rolling around on the floor waiting for a cat, dog or rat to find it?
in the end, my package was delivered to me today, but not by alberto. i inquired about him through the school´s search page and indeed he is a worker in the package office. when i went to find him he was out tracking down the package of someone else. my package was on its way to my building to be delivered to me.
did the m.p.s. do as promised and come to the school to help find my package? was this why it was actually delivered to me this afternoon? one of the many things i have learned is simply not to question such occurrances. i have my package, unopened it appears and full of all my sister told me about. does anything else really matter? of course it does. but does anyone here care about my own misgivings? of course not.
hence, as i enjoy the chocolately goodness of a coconut nest, i think of alberto flores, wherever he is, and hope he rescues another package before the owner can get there to claim it. spread the joy to all, i say.
first, let´s go back 46 hours. the office secretary came by and gave me a slip of paper. she did so casually, as though there were nothing special about it, and sauntered off to do whatever it is she does. noticing that in my hands was a note from the postal service of mexico, i was pleased because the package my sister amy sent had arrived. finally. then i noticed the date, june 18 (this was june 26th), and that the slip said ¨second notice.¨
i had left for the states on june 18th, so if this was the second notice, the first should have arrived at least 4 days earlier. june 14 saw me at school, teaching, normal routine. where was notice the first?
unable to make it to the post office before it closed (did i mention i was offered a full-time position at my school on this same afternoon?), i put off the trip for the next day. one day. big deal.
my friend gave me a ride to the post office and i arrived 15minutes before closing time. when i left 40 minutes later, i was, to say the least, nonplussed.
as i handed the woman behind the counter my slip, she asked me for my id. she wrote my passport number down on the paper i gave her and shuffled off to find my package.
do you ever think you know when there is going to be a problem? you order food, without onions would be a great example because onions are evil, and yet you know when it arrives that the food will have onions. people might call you paranoid, negative, a pain in the ass, whatever, but you know you are right. and then, when the food arrives, fucked up, you look to the other person to confirm that you were right. but, being right, does not make you happy. if anything, it pisses you off even more. naturally, you seek a vent for this frustration. profanity? depends on the scene. surly attitude toward any and all ¨help¨? definitely.
thus, as the older lady returned and informed more than asked that i had already received the package, i looked to my friend, who, alas, stayed in the car, and then paused before responding.
¨no¨
sometimes it is very pleasing that english and spanish coincide so. it was perhaps, i see it now, my pause that made her hesitate. she opened a red book with lots of lines, pages, signatures, and other scribblings of, probably, the five year olds who run el servicio postal mexicano.
¨look again¨ i said as curtly as possible. she complied and, if it were possible, crawled into the back room. clearly, i was ready to jump the counter, damn the sign informing that the area was for authorized personnel only. i refrained as the man with the uzi, i shit you not he carried an uzi, outside the door somehow calmed me.
i was then informed that my package had indeed been picked up already. i told her as cooly as possibly that my twin did not live in this country and either way, we spelled our first names differently. this confused her just long enough to prove to me she was at least listening.
five minutes later she returned from the overseer´s office (i think he is probably like 7yrs old) and motioned me to enter.
was this a trap? would the uzi man gun me down as i crossed the line into another world, a realm without reason where packages are distributed willnilly on a first come first served basis? no. it was not.
amazingly, i think the overseer was inclined to think that showing me a photocopy of identification of the person who retrieved a package clearly addressed to william davis would assuage my growing hostility. hmm. alberto flores zamora. well, we both have two ¨l´s¨ in our names at some point. looking into the eyes of the head of such an organized and professional outfit, i saw the one thing i knew i could never fight against and win.
indeed, what i saw in his eyes is not something you easily forget, nor is it easily feigned (although i certainly do not rule out he feels this way, or acts like it, daily). i restated the obvious to him hoping his look would change.
¨so you are telling me the mexican postal service gave a package addressed to william davis to alberto flores? what, then, is the purpose of showing you an id? can i have someone else´s package? i will show you my id first.¨
no, sarcasm went right past this one, as i feared it would, because he was, sadly, simple. in his eyes i saw that he did not really understand. he believed in what he had done. to him, he acted like loyal employee and faithful worker. on the package were the words ¨itesm¨. this is where i work. alberto flores told him he worked for itesm. ergo, the package went to the correct person.
flabbergasted and rather deflated, i accepted the situation as it was (you cannot browbeat a child who does not understand what it did was wrong any more than you should whip a horse for wanting the apple in your hand). what, praytell, did the mexi postal servce intend to do? well, first i needed to write explaining i wanted the matter looked into by them.
right.
did i have a pen on me, inquired the cretin. no (of course i did, but i was going to take his and keep it).
sitting at the desk, so kind that he offered me a seat, i thought of how i wanted to word the letter. oh, he told me what i needed to write, but i brushed aside his advice in favor of something more, how shall i put it, more strongly worded.
did i know that this letter would never leave that office? that no matter what i asked for i would not receive? that the mexi postal service ¨team¨ no more interest in me than i have in embroidery? yes. did i feel the need to release some hostility? indeed (a huevo- this is rather vulgar so i dont suggest repeating it the next time your spanish speaking server asks you if you would like another beverage, more salsa or the check).
¨i, william davis, arrived at the mexican postal service on (address) today at 1645 hours to retrieve a package. unfortunately, the workers of the m.p.s. had decided to give my package to alberto flores zamora of (address) without my consent or knowledge. acting for more me is not something i ever wanted the mps, or (and here i wrote the names of the kind staff who had assisted me so far) to do, nor would i ever like them to do so in the future.
negligence (i asked the overseer how to spell this word, to which he looked quite surprised and somewhat taken aback before slowly spelling it for me) by the staff of the m.p.s. is clear in this case; therefore, i request that said staff look for and find alberto flores zamora. then, i want my package delivered, preferably intact, by whom is not important, to me at (school address).
sincerely,
william davis
so ya, that took me about 10 minutes to write (partially because i knew the longer i was there, the longer they had to wait around (they closed at 5)). i watched as the mexi postal service´s chief intelligence officer perused my written request and smiled as he savored my description of the handling of events.
he then told me some bullshit about the how they were going to seriously look into the matter and get something done. as i had already copied down alberto´s home address and full name, i nodded and wished him luck in finding the package. i was assured that it would be found and delivered to me with all the haste within the power of the postal service (my friend sent me a letter when she was in chihuahua- this is part of mexico- 5 weeks ago and i have still not received it).
my anger had mostly subsided but disappointment grew in its stead. apparently, someone from my school had gone to the postal service after the third notice to get my package and deliver it to me. why had alberto waited three days without informing me? was alberto even an employee? was that even his name (i mentioned, i believe, my trip to where fake id´s are made, and the amazing authenticity they seem to possess)? where was the package? would someone else be ankle deep in russel stover coconut nest packages with traces of chocoloate on their cheeks and the stray jelly bean rolling around on the floor waiting for a cat, dog or rat to find it?
in the end, my package was delivered to me today, but not by alberto. i inquired about him through the school´s search page and indeed he is a worker in the package office. when i went to find him he was out tracking down the package of someone else. my package was on its way to my building to be delivered to me.
did the m.p.s. do as promised and come to the school to help find my package? was this why it was actually delivered to me this afternoon? one of the many things i have learned is simply not to question such occurrances. i have my package, unopened it appears and full of all my sister told me about. does anything else really matter? of course it does. but does anyone here care about my own misgivings? of course not.
hence, as i enjoy the chocolately goodness of a coconut nest, i think of alberto flores, wherever he is, and hope he rescues another package before the owner can get there to claim it. spread the joy to all, i say.
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