Monday, November 30, 2009
Wally Lamb, I Know This Much Is True
This article was essentially, what can you really know for sure, everything keeps changing. This idea pretty much encapsulates my life right now, or at least the future of my life right now. I'm headed for France, but where, and maybe not, what if, but then, how will that work, can I really do that etc...
So there was a link after Liz's article for Oprah's top 20 things she knows. I relished in the concreteness of things she knew. Whew, in my current state of instability, it felt good to have a list, it felt good to read something I could hold on to.
I've been getting advice and counsel from everyone, people I haven't heard from or talked to in years, I've shared my troubles with. I'm thankful for their support and guidance. No one has said don't go to France. The general consensus has been looks like you need to leap. But then, that's easy to say when it's not your life.
Oprah's nice concrete list felt like getting into a warm bed, safe and secure. I have an equation to figure out and I need to solve for variables y and z to find x, and x is not an absolute number. Yikes. But thank god for Oprah's list!
So number 8 hit a homer for me: The happiness you feel is in direct proportion to the love you give.
Because immediately I thought Sylvain. I could recognize this love=happiness equation because I'd seen it before with my students. Walking into a classroom I never got "Hello Ms K" I got hugs, from each student under the age of 8. It was like a receiving line at the White House. I know my friends and family have noticed that this year, has been really stressful, and I've done a lot of worrying, but I know what stands out isn't the worrying I've done, because I've always done that. What they notice is that I'm a lot happier than they've often seen me.
P.S. #5. Worrying is wasted time. Use the same energy for doing something about whatever worries you.
P.P.S. Oprah- if I knew how to get a Visa for France without marriage, I'd be happy to expend my energy making that happen, if I knew how to make the US attractive to my boyfriend, I'd do that too.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Going to the Dogs
As an animal lover, in general the streets of Valpariaso and a lot of South America (speaking only for Chile, Peru, and Argentina) are a disturbing site. Maybe if The Price is Right wasn't my favorite childhood show, and you didn't have Bob Barker's daily reminder to have your pets spade or neutered you wouldn't be moved to despair by the number of street dogs looking half dead all over the streets of Valpo. There are so many confounding aspects to the situation. My American friend brought her cat in to get neutered and started asking questions about the street dogs and the lack of planned pregnancy. It's a cultural thing the vet said. And the Valpo attitude seems to be it takes a village. There are pet food shops dotted along most streets and people seem to feed these dogs, but as my father would say, it's unfair to have a dog in the city where he can't run around and get some exercise.
These dogs all seem flea ridden, eczematic, and unhappy. They lie around on the streets looking wasted and weary of life. Replace the dogs with people and you have the great depression and bread lines, street urchins and homeless. Hoovervilles. Valpo street dogs look like they've lost to will to live, and really why not, except for daily feedings, no one acknowledges their existence, there's no touch, no play, no love for these dogs, at least not the kind they deserve.
Lately I've been taking it easy with throwing my opinions around too much, but this has been getting under my skin. Where is Betty White and Bridget Bardot when you need a famous face to fight the cause. In the Bronx and Harlem they would often have these medical vans parked to provide free support services for people who otherwise wouldn't have access to healthcare. I want a white van to pull up in Anibal Pinto and offer free spade and neutering services to the dogs here.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Winding down
I had various goals, none being more important of significant than the other but as this experience winds to a close I think it's worth reflecting on whether the goals shifted or changed and whether I met the goal.
First, this one was probably no more important than any other goal for me, but it turned out to have the most significant impact on my time in Valparaiso. Teaching English, I had one interview and no luck finding any work no matter how many posters I posted. Before I left for Chile I had found a job on craigslist that made me fill out a million practice forms only to give the job to someone else. A week ago I got an email from them saying their other choice left them high and dry and would I still be interested in the job. Ah, the irony. Financially not working was a big pain, but mentally not working colored my experience here. I found the absence of work, any work, even volunteer work (which I probably didn't pursue hard enough only contacting two opportunities) to be really hard. In looking at my future with Sylvain this has been the biggest barrier, because I don't want to move to France and not find work. Meaningful work.
I wanted to learn Spanish. Thanks to Rosetta Stone, I feel like I can speak Spanish significantly better than I did after a year in college and several years working in restaurants. Yesterday I returned and exchanged a $10 tub of cream cheese for 2 cartons of Philadelphia Cream cheese and although I didn't understand a word the Chilean accented manager was saying to me, I know I communicated my needs and desires correctly and effectively because the exchange was made and I got twice the amount of cream cheese and some change. I know tourist Spanish, and I could probably have a really bland conversation about tourism, cleaning the house, or body parts if pushed into a corner. I am currently reading Harry Potter in Spanish and find that young adult literature is an appropriate reading level for me. I found when I first got here that the Spanish learning was interfering with the French I was trying to improve, and because most of our friends were French I held off pursuing Spanish conversation, I think I was also very intimidated hence the lack of trying to find volunteer work.
I was hoping to make art while I was here. I am a jewelry designer and I also do a lot of sewing. So even though I came here thinking I'd go back to painting, and this time with guache, I felt completely out of sorts. I can paint, but I paint with oils, not watercolors, and I found the medium change uninspiring. I missed my sewing machine, I wanted to make jewelry and in the end I did some sketching and very little art making. I'd say what I did was plan to make art, and often I would find myself saying, when I get home I want to make x, or y. I have A at home I can make a B with. While I was here I knit 3 scarfs, and crocheted 4 grocery bag totes. This was a personal disappointment.
In coming to Chile, I planned to figure out what next. I was ready to leave New York, and although I'm excited to go back for a visit, I am still ready to leave New York. In the time I have been here we had considered Buenos Aires, but then found that their economy stinks and I'd probably have an even tougher time finding a job, Spain, because we wanted to continue learning Spanish, but then I realized, I didnt really want to carry on with the Spanish and that it would be best for our future if I jumped into French, and so because France was a good solution for lots of reasons, we pursued France. It has been a roller coaster I'd rather not have been on, I'm still on it, and I'd like to get off. What I think I've figured out is this. I like the northern hemisphere, when it's christmas, I want to have the chance of snow in the forecast, not another day at the beach. I want a city that is not New York or Boston. Something big enough to be exciting, with intellectual, cultural and artistic opportunities, and a vast expanse of park and outdoor leisure space. I am ok if rent is high as long as it isn't so high you feel like you are being taken advantage of. I want it to be English or French speaking and somewhere I can find a job. Right now, Lyon and Montreal look pretty appealing. I love that both are close to Paris and New York respectively because while I don't want to live in either of those cities, I still love both of them. The last 3 months no place in the States has really appealed to me, which I suppose is why it's been so easy to let Sylvain's life determine a path. Here's what I figure: I hated Boston don't want to ever live there again, but I like living on the East coast, if not NYC that pretty much leaves D.C., but it doesn't appeal to me that much, I only barely know about 3 people there although I do love crab cakes. In considering the midwest there is really only one or two options. Minnesota is fine and I have a great friend there, but it's too cold. Chicago, well I love Chicago in a lot of ways, it's affordable, I have friends there, but the school system isn't on track and while I love teaching in urban schools, Chicago's seem headed completely in the wrong direction and funding is seriously low. I am also a coastal girl, and Chicago feels landlocked. The west coast is beautiful and oftentimes appealingly open-minded and nature loving. But California is bankrupt, Portland doesnt have enough money in their education program to hire teachers and everyone I talk to there is unemployed anyway. I'm also put off by what from a distance is a really sad state of affairs in America. On the one hand you have Sarah Palin who frankly is a massively narcissistic and ignorant woman- but there are plenty of people like that in America- what is unappealing is the gross amount of people in America that tout her ignorance and consider her a role model while they misquote her political stance. At the same time, it's discouraging to constantly read about how retarded and hypocritical she is at every turn. We knew this about her last year, and yet we validate her media existence by even responding to the mind-numbing fluff in Going Rogue. The same can be said of the scandal that is Fox News. Take a step back and it is truly frightening. Yet no one, no one in America is smart enough or strong enough to effectively protest what has transpired into angry white racist men and women who shame themselves and America. The America I thought I lived in as a child has become divided and weak. It's not Obama's fault, and I don't think it was even Bush's fault and it certainly isn't the fault of any real or imagined terrorist. I think it's our fault. We hold tight to what divides us instead of taking care to consider what we share and trying to build that which binds us. So is it better in France or Canada? Well certainly the healthcare is, and I think in general, yes, it is better. I watch French news with Florence Dauchaise ever night, France isn't perfect, and neither is Canada. But I get the feeling neither countries are cutting off their nose to spite their face.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Jugo Naturale and Bed Bugs... Love and hate
You'll find a few varieties here of jugo naturale, the best I think is from el deseyunador. They have delicious Kiwi, tart raspberry and a variety of others (take care to avoid the apple, it's a disappointment). Unlike a lot of other places here they don't froth it with an egg white, which I find disgusting and completely unnecessary, I'm not drinking a beer, my juice doesn't need a head. You'll also find places that dilute the juice with water, which is a bit of a bummer, and places that add too much or no sugar.
But almost across the board, you'll find the price hovers around about 2 dollars for a decent sized glass (never less than a half pint). In New York, you'll often find if your palette wants fresh squeezed orange juice at brunch you'll likely pay about $4 or more for what amounts to a big sip. To get 2 big sips, you'll sometimes pay more for the juice than what your belgian waffle costs.
One of the things I won't miss about Valparaiso are the bug bites I keep getting. I've taken to sleeping with the cortizone we bought for Sylvain's athlete foot under my pillow for emergency application in the middle of the night. So, I've been down the bedbug road before, but I can't decide if these bites have bedbugs to thank. When our pub housing got a disastrous outbreak of bedbugs they pretty much ignored me in favor of my friend Sonja. And in New York, our apartment avoided them for the most part except a few bites Pete got. A tell tale sign of bedbug bites is that they will often eat in a succession of three bites- they start but you move in your sleep and they'll move a few steps and carry on often in a series of three called breakfast, lunch and dinner. Sylvain is also getting bitten although we seem to tag team and he'll get bitten and then three days later I'll get bitten but we never see bites in successions of two or three.
With less than 3 weeks left, I'm not about to go through the hassle of "dealing with the problem". I'll put on a brave face and get up for the bi-weekly nightly feedings, slap on some cortizone and nestle back in. However when it's time to pack, the luggage will be looking at a serious strip search...
Monday, November 23, 2009
Mugging here and there
Later at home I told Sylvain I was glad we didn't stay out late, and happy to have him for protection.
I've never seen any kind of violence here, but I've heard a lot about it, Sylvain has a few acquaintances who've been mugged or beaten up, but again it seems to most often take place after late night drinking.
When I first moved to Brooklyn I lived in an unsavory neighborhood with 9 roommates in the most amazing loft I have ever seen. There were 7 boys and 2 girls. The apartment had been broken into just before I moved in when one of our roommates woke up, they left, and just after I moved out it was broken into again and the two other apartments in the building had been robbed before- once they tied the person up who was at home. The building was home to about 25 artists, musicians and photographers, the thieves stole the cameras and Mac computers for the most part. Still, all the boys had been robbed, once by gun-point in daylight right outside the door of our house. One night some of us were sitting around watching a movie, and Marcus came in and asked to borrow someone's phone as he had just been robbed and wanted to cancel his phone and credit cards. He said he simply handed phone and wallet over to the guy when the request was made - but he asked to keep his ID and keys as he was headed to Germany for an art opening the next day and would need it at the airport, the thief acquiesced "sho man, no problem" and he took what he wanted and handed the wallet back.
I always think of that as a somewhat defining New York moment, Marcus was hardly troubled, this was his second time being mugged- he was a skinny gay man, but he took it in stride. The thief was chill, the experience was as ordinary as any transaction made with a teller at Target. Everyone who travels is aware that when you're clearly a gringo westerner you're a target for pick pocketing, otherwise why would you have so many silly-looking bum bags and passport holders you tie onto your undergarments. The idea of getting robbed doesn't really worry me too much, I travel enough that it seems likely I'll find myself handing over my cash at some point, the thing that strikes me as profoundly worrying is the beating that seems to be coming with these transactions. Nothing is so valuable to me I want to taking a beating for it.
I won't even get into the disgrace of happy slapping... If you want to know google it.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Teaching and Learning
Still in the shower I was also thinking about something I was learning from being with Sylvain. I've done a lot of reading and watched a lot of lectures online about Global Warming, I have no doubt it's one of the most important challenges our world faces right now and as an American it's clear that we produce the most waste and are the biggest culprits in making climate change a reality. However, my dad thinks this is a huge liberal agenda farce. My parents and I don't share even a morsel of the same political ideas, we could be further apart on the spectrum, and at least in the sense that I did some research, kept an open mind and then made up my own mind I find my father's refusal to be open-minded and at least read and watch the evidence before stubbornly sticking his head back in the sand a selfish mistake- he may not have to live to see global warming play out, but my kids will. I recently had a conversation with my mom two days in a row where she mentioned the "bizarre weather" we've been having- she was so sincere in her inability to account for the strange fluctuations in cold one week and hot the next- but when I said, but of course this is evidence of climate change- her knee-jerk reaction was- well I don't believe in that. Two days in a row people, same statement citing evidence of climate change, and then refusing to accept the reality!
But what I realized early on in my relationship with Sylvain, is that Europeans, or at least the French - and I'm sure there are those individuals who don't adhere to this cultural condition- are raised with a green conscious. Europeans have always driven smaller cars, they were the first to address environmental issues when Global Warming first became a buzz phrase and I've never even heard of anyone from Europe denying it's reality. Sylvain is not nearly as pro-actively liberal as I am, he doesn't forward articles to friends and family or get worked up about this stuff- but I mention how I miss having a bath and his immediate reaction is baths aren't environmentally friendly and the look of disappointment on his face shamed me. He does this about everything, turning off the water for the toilet unless we're flushing, the lights, no AC, public transportation- his parent's don't seem especially environmentally conscious it's just a cultural condition.
I remember once in forth grade we did this science project- we had to close the drain in our tub and measure whether we used more water taking a bath or a shower- of course we used more water with the bath- lesson learned- but I am sure it didn't affect us as 9 year olds in the least, we carried on taking our bath or shower but not about to be inconvenienced by this issue. As American's, I'm sorry but we don't care, or at least not enough to be inconvenienced. Sure, as an adult, there are those of us who have grown up conscious of the way we live, trying reduce, reuse and recycle. Turning off lights, and tv's, not buying everything in access, buying local, buying smaller more energy efficient cars, not using the air-conditioner constantly etc, but this is hardly a national trend. My dad turns the tv on at 7am when he wakes up and the reality is he spends half the day outside working on stuff, but that tv stays on full volume all day long until 9pm when he goes to bed- as a child my parents may have nagged me to turn off my light or close the door because the air conditioner was on, but it wasn't about the environment it was about their electricity bill, and if they want the tv on, or if they want a bath every night their conscience isn't stopping them. My parents are the rule not the exception.
One of the things I remember growing up was our clothes line- I'm sorry, but there are few things as wonderful as getting into bed at night with sheets that have been hung out to dry in the afternoon sun. There's a controversy now in America over clothes lines being a sight for sore eyes, and in many housing developments having them is illegal. My aunt breaks the rules and has one anyway, and the local newspaper did an article about her in the paper. There isn't a country in the world that does everything perfect- see my European joke from France, you suck! but when there are models out there that do it better, it's important and smart to realize you can learn from others and adopt better practices, because frankly it's sad that people are more concerned about their neighbors laundry being an eyesore than the win win of fresh sheets to sleep in, and lower energy bills.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Planes, trains, and auto…no, buses.
The last few years I’ve been to Africa twice, Turkey, London, Chile and back and forth from New York to the west coast 4 or 5 times- not to mention several visits home to Wisconsin. If you’ve been on an airplane you’ve probably noticed service is declining, the customer, being you, is rarely catered to in the same way we were pre-9/11 and that no matter what the circumstances are when your flight is delayed or canceled- it is handled poorly, and you are never compensated for your troubles. While air travel has becoming a necessity in some circumstances, I want to write about alternatives to the time suck and abuse that for me at least has defined many of my experiences flying of late.
A lot of people have started talking about their carbon footprint and some have even started thinking about it. When Ford, GM and Chrysler met with congress last summer and twice ignored the advice of the hand that was about to throw them a much needed life raft it seemed, I don’t know, stupid. But maybe people have forgotten about bus travel since it has long since been outdated. I haven’t taken many buses in the states, just the Fung Wah and the Lucky Star which left every hour from Boston and dropped you often in Chinatown NYC, it was cheap and efficient. Here in Chile I’ve done my fair share of bus travel mostly to and from Santiago but this weekends bus trip to Mendoza is worth mentioning. First I have no idea what the tickets cost, maybe something like $50 a person round trip- not bad even if what they call a 6 hour bus ride is really a 9 hour trip with almost 3 hours spent going through customs at the border. However, this 9 hour bus ride didn’t drag on like any of the oversea flights I’ve been on, and here’s why. As soon as the bus leaves the station you are greeted by what can only be described as a bus attendant, he visits you at your seat and checks your name off a roster like a teacher taking attendance. As soon as he checks that all his registered passengers are accounted for he brings you a pillow, and actually sticks it behind your head- with a smile none the less, once the pillows are handed out he brings you a blanket, unfolds it, and lays it over you, again with a smile, your comfort is his pleasure. Once your nestled in your seats that recline so far back you wonder if your neighbor behind you can pick the dandruff out of your hair, but no, there is plenty of space between your seat and the next row so you can relax and put your legs up, because, oh there is a leg rest a la the living room recliner. Before you can get over how unfamiliar this seems after years of flying, there is your box lunch, sure it’s a sandwich, a juice box, and a cookie, but at least it isn’t some frozen medley of “food” reheated and full of sodium, and since it comes in a box and not on a tray, you can stick it in your front pocket and eat when you feel hungry. There are a couple tv’s and sure the movies are American blockbusters from 5 years ago dubbed in Spanish, but if you don’t want to watch, you don’t have to, and if you want to work on your Spanish language skills, it’s a perfect opportunity because the dubbing is not in a mangled Chilean accent and you don’t have to catch ever word, because frankly you already know what’s going to happen. Your bus attendant has a call button if you need to ask estimated arrival time, and he escorts you through customs like a pro, collecting any garbage you may have accumulated at regular intervals. Thrown in for free are the views; no matter what seat you find yourself in, the Andes encapsulate you and a 9 hour bus ride feels like it couldn’t have taken longer than 6.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
France, and Mendoza
A few people commented on my France, you suck! post and I really appreciate, well frankly just the dialogue. Im wondering if anyone knows whether the PACS is good enough or if marriage is the only way?
Monday, November 16, 2009
Mendoza, Argentina
There's something about the South American's, they are so laid back that for a North American it can be a little frustrating at times. Today was a good example, but I will start with the trip here which our tickets said would be a 6 hour bus ride, it turned out to be a 9 hour trip- and what makes one wonder is that unless one was in a car, there is no way you could get from Valparaiso to Mendoza in 6 hours. This is because, 1 you're in a bus, and they generally don't drive faster than the speed limit, and 2 because you have to go through customs with your bus, and you're never the only bus. Customs took about 3 hours.
Friday, November 13, 2009
France, you suck!
Q: What is European heaven?
A: The Germans look after administration, the English are the policemen, the French do the cooking and the Italians are the lovers.
Q: And what is European hell?
A: The English do the cooking, the Germans are the lovers, the Italians are the policemen and... the French look after administration.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Champion Boxer... I am not
I played a lot of sports in school and some, like tennis and jogging I've continued to do in my adult life. I'm not good at sports though because I do not have quick reflexes. So when I asked Sylvain to take me boxing I wasn't really expecting quality. I didn't get it either. My thoughts about boxing before I met Sylvain was that it was sort of rough, and full contact- the only fight I'd ever seen was between Tyson and Holyfield when he bit his ear off. When I met Sylvain I thought, so you like boxing, that's nice, I hope you don't break your nose anymore or mess up your face, but his body albeit thin, is perfection. I don't mean that in a sexual way- but his abs are defined and his arms are manly neither of which falling into the category or muscle head roidinator. Until yesterday I had no idea how one got to be that way- now I do- boxing has earned my complete and utter respect.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Cerro la Campana
I woke up around 8:30 and figured I'd get my stuff together for the big hiking trip. Not that it's such a big hike, but I've been talking about going for so long, the momentum was sufficiently high. I left around 9:40 got the Metro to Limache and when I exited the station someone asked me where I was headed- he informed me to take the bus #45 which was not the directions I'd been given which were to take the bus #1, but in the end, every bus that pulled up in front of the station I got in and asked if they went to Cerro la Campana, all of them told me to take bus #45 except bus #45 which told me to take bus #1. So finally bus #1 came and an hour later he dropped me off. There were two different routes to take, I took one that got me there, but let's just say wasn't much of a route, and I popped up out of nowhere on a scavaging school group who informed me Cerro la Campana was CERRADO- closed, because of a strike. So, yeah. It took me two hours and change to get to this mountain, and no dice. I decided to walk back down and head back to Limache station and after about an hour of walking I got the bus the rest of the way, and then the Metro.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Supersizing Christmas
Yesterday we went to the beach Vina and then as per usual Sylvain was hungry so we walked to Renaca and went to McDonald's. I had fries and he had a supersized meal which was much smaller than an American super sizing- it was on par with whatever regular would be, and afterwards Sylvain was still hungry...