Las Cosas que Llevamos - The Things We Carry

This little poem came out of my mind while trying to wrap my head around the multiple uses of the verb "llevar." You'll see time and again various forms of "llevar" but they don't all mean the same thing. Llevar expresses many ideas. My best attempt at a translation in English is below the original (which I'm sure is riddled with a million mistakes).

Cada persona lleva algo; llevamos nuestros nombres

y muchas mujeres llevan bien con los hombres

y llevamos cabello, corto o largo
y la mayoría de gente llevan sus manos
y en nuestros bolsas

llevamos las llaves –

o si prefieres, llevas tus claves

Llevo mi corazón en mi pecho, a menos que
quiero llevar mi corazón en mi manga.
Y, todo el tiempo, llevas mi corazón cualquier lugar vayas

Llevo mis libros a clase,

y tú? Llevas los marcadores.
Esperamos que estas cosas va a llevar a algún forma de educación,

pero muchas veces, me llevo un ataque de pánico -

cada vez, siempre llevas mis berrinches con paciencia y con cuidado.

A veces, llevamos en nuestros brazos al uno del otro
y también otras nos llevan en sus coches cuando

no queremos –

no podemos –
caminar.

Y los músicos y los soldados llevan en paso con el ritmo
Y los maestros llevan a sus clases
Y los modelos llevan los estilos nuevos;
llevan camino de ser famosos.
A propósito, este año se lleva el azul.

Y cada carretera lleva a algún lugar
pero la opción es tuya la cual llevas.

Es un hecho de la vida que cada persona lleva algo;

y la cosa importante nunca fue las cosas – no -
sobre todo, la importante es
cuales son las formas en que les llevamos?

-----
Ok. In English, the verbs are going to change (you won't get that constant "llevar" - but that will help illustrate exactly how complicated this verb is). And not even a little bit will rhyme. 

Every person carries something; we carry our names
and many women get on well with men,
and we all have hair, short or long 

and the majority of people have their hands, 

and in our pockets we carry our keys 

or, if you prefer, you carry your keys *two different ways of saying keys in Spanish

And I carry my heart in my chest, unless

I want to carry my heart on my sleeve, 

and always you carry it any which place you go.

I bring my books to class, 

and you? You bring the markers. 

We hope that things things will bring about some form of education, 

but most times I'm brought to a panic attack

and each time, you handle my fits with patience and care.

And sometimes, we take one another into our arms

and other times, others take us where we need to go

when we don't want to, 

or are unable to walk. 

And musicians and soldiers march to the beat, 

and teachers run their classes, 

and models wear the newest styles on the walk to fame;

by the way, blue is in season this year. 

And every road leads somewhere, 

but the choice is yours which way you go. 

It's a fact of life that everyone carries something; 

but the important "thing" never was about "things."

No - above all, the most important thing is 

what are the ways in which we carry them?

Forward - Adelante

It took five weeks, but finally a bug caught me. However, I can proudly say that this bug is something entirely native to me, and is not caused by external factors.

That makes me sound pregnant. I'm not pregnant. Not even close. Sorry to disappoint you.

The truth is I've got some funny things with my blood and stuff, and my own body often makes itself sick. That's what I'm dealing with today. My body is having a war with itself. All I can do is lay in bed while it throws a fit.

But, tomorrow will be better. Because I'm being a good girl.

Tomó 5 semanas, pero una enfermedad finalmente me alcanzó. Sin embargo, puedo decir con orgullo que esa enfermedad es algo nativo a mi, y la causa no es algo externo.

Y no, no, no - no estoy embarazada, ni siquiera cerca. Lo siento. 

La verdad es que tengo problemas extrañas con mi sangre y en la salud en general, y frecuentemente mi cuerpo me hace enferme - por lo tanto, estoy enferma hoy. Mi cuerpo está teniendo una guerra con sí mismo. Todo puedo hacer es descansar mientras mi cuerpo hace un berrinche. 

Pero mañana estará mejor, porque todo el día estoy descansando.  

I bought my return ticket back to the US. I'm sad to know my time in the happiest place on Earth is coming to an end (for now), but there are things back in Minneapolis that I need to do. There are little human-students who need butt-kicking. There are doctors appointments that need to be made. There is a cute little baby who has been waiting his whole life for his Auntie Nikki to hold him (that's right, Moses, I'm talking about you - you little poncho wearing bandit!).

I don't like thinking about leaving. There are things and people here, too. You know?

Yo compré mi boleto de avion para regresar a los EEUU. Estoy triste saber que mi tiempo aquí en la lugar más alegre en todo el mundo va a terminar (por ahora), pero hay cosas en Minneapolis que necesito hacer. Hay niños que me necesitan. Hay citas medicás que necesito hacer. Hay un lindo bebé que ha esperado toda su vida de su Auntie Nikki para sostenerlo (es cierto, Moses, estoy hablando de ti, tu pequeño bandido que lleva un poncho)!

No me gusta pensar en volver a los EEUU. Hay cosas y gente aquí, también. Sabes?

I should tell you about what I've been doing recently. I stopped writing every day, because I've been here so long that most things are routine. I have a life, and writing about the same cobbled stones can get boring for some people.

Not for me. I love those cobbled stones. But for you, maybe.

Over the weekend, I took Matt to Monte Alban and Hierve el Agua (and Tlocolula). Matt had fun with the collective-taxi experience, and riding in the back of a truck up the side of a mountain. That's always fun for everyone. Seriously. The view from the back of that truck is priceless.

We were riding in it with some people who bought some baby chicks to raise. They kept trying to sleep, but then we'd hit a bump and they'd all start chirping. They were very cute.

Debo decirte sobre las cosas yo he hecho en los días pasadas. Yo paré escribir todos los días porque yo he habido aquí un largo tiempo, y la mayoría de las cosas hago aquí son rutinas. Tengo me vida aquí, y para escribir sobre las mismas piedras en las calles es algo aburrido para algunas personas.

Para mi, no. Me encanta estas piedras de las calles. Pero, para ti? Quizá no.

Durante el fin de semana, yo tomé a Matt a Monte Alban y HiervelAgua (y Tlocolula). Matt tenía un buen tiempo en los colectivos, y durante el paseo en la camioneta. La camioneta cada vez es divertida. En serio. Y la vista desde la camioneta es sin precio. 

Estabamos en la camioneta con gente que compraron...pollitos para crecer. Los pollitos querían dormir pero los hoyos en la carretera lo hacían difícil. Monos pollitos!

Oh, but before all that, I was stopped in Llano Park by some middle school students who were interviewing people for a school project about the pros and cons of internet on cell phones. This interview was in Spanish.

Ok, returning to Hierve...Hierve is easily one of my favorite places I've ever been on the Earth. It's indescribably beautiful. Like many things, it's a feeling. Not a word.

In other news, Matt had his first taste of Mezcal up there on that mountain.
And, on our way down the mountain, I made friends with the driver of the truck, and he gave me some recommendations for bands. Success is defined by expanding your database of music.

Oh - pero antes de todas estas cosas - algunos estudiantes me pararon en el parque llano. Estaban haciendo entrevistas con gente para un proyecto de clase sobre los pros y cons de internet en cell phones. Y, la entrevista fue en español.

Okay, Hierve! Hierve es simplemente uno de mis favoritos lugares en todo la tierra. Este lugar es hermoso más allá de descripción. Como muchas cosas, es un sentimiento - no una palabra. 

En otras noticias, Matt tuvo su primer mezcal en Hierve. Y, cuando regresar a Mitla, conocí el conductor de la camioneta - y el me die algunas recomendaciones para música. Alegría es descubrir música nueva.

After too much sun and fun, we went to the big sunday mercado. It's an experience everyone should have if they plan to visit Oaxaca. You can buy all sorts of great (and not so great) things.

But, in spite of all the fun things we did this weekend, the best thing that happened is this: the city has come back to life. I almost cried when I saw the vendors in the street. I have never been so happy to balloons and children playing in a church square in all my life.

It seemed like the whole city was in the Zocalo last night, celebrating the removal of the harlequin mask. I can't help but wonder if I've embedded too much of my identity within this city. Something about being here has allowed me a freedom I've never given myself. In a figurative way, I've done some unmasking of myself.

Like the city, I just want to be loved for what's raw and real about me. Even the controversial, unsightly aspects of me.

Después de demasiado diversión y sol, fuimos al mercado. Pienso que cada persona que visita a Oaxaca necesita visitar a Tlacolula. Puedes comprar un gran variedad de cosas buenas (y cosas no tan buenas).

Pero, a pesar de todas las cosas interesantes Matt y yo hicimos durante el fin de semana, lo mejor que ocurrió fue esto: la ciudad ha regresado a la vida. Casi lloré cuando vi los vendedores en las calles. Nunca antes había sentido tan alegre para ver niños y globos y niños con globos en cualquier lugar en toda mi vida.

Parecía que toda la gente de Oaxaca fueran en el zocalo anoche para celebrar. Es imposible impedirme preguntar si yo he puesto demasiada de mí misma y identidad dentro de la ciudad. Algo sobre estar aquí ha permitido una liberación que nunca he dado mí misma. En una manera figurativa, supongo que quité una máscara también. 

Como la ciudad, estoy listo para recibir amor para las cosas real y cruda sobre mi - incluyendo las cosas controvertidas o feas.  

Street Cleansing

There's been a cleansing of the streets. Yes, I've used "cleansing" instead of "cleaning" because when you cleanse something, it's because you want to get rid of a stain, an odor, to mask a blemish.

They have cleansed the color and culture out of the streets this week. And, why, might you ask? Because of the 230 World Heritage Leaders that are here for the XII World Congress of the Organization of World Heritage Cities.

Ha habido un lavado de las calles. Sí, he usado "lavado" en lugar de "limpieza" porque cuando quieres lavar algo, es porque quieres deshacerse de una mancha, un olor, cubrir una cicatriz. 

Esta semana, han lavado el color y la cultura de las calles. Y - por qué, te preguntas? Porque hay 230 "líderes" del mundo patrimonio que están aquí para el XII Congreso de la Organización del Patrimonio Mundial. 

This sounds like a good thing, right? All these people are here to talk about the value of society and the preservation of cultural heritage...all these bureaucrats and private business owners who obviously have best interest of their communities and the people within those communities at heart, right?

I mean, sharing the culture of Oaxaca is one of the biggest points being made during this event. It's like "look and the depth and richness of the culture here!" I mean, they really want to drive that point home to all these important, important people.

Esta suena como algo bueno, sí? Hay mucha gente aquí que quiere hablar sobre el valor de la sociedad y el preservación del patrimonio cultural...obviamente, los burócratas y empresarios privadas tienen en sus corazones el mejor interés de sus comunidades y la gente que viven en estas comunidades.

Compartir la cultura de Oaxaca es uno de los puntos más importante para la gente importante y durante la semana. Es como "mira a la profundidad y la riqueza de la cultura aquí!" Es decir que la gente importante de Oaxaca realmente quieren demostrar las cosas hermosas de la ciudad a todas las otras personas importantes. 

That's why there are 4 cops on every corner (fully rifled). That's why they're policing the streets. That's why there are no street vendors allowed in the city this week. That's why they've ushered the indigenous people away. That's why they've painted over the political graffiti. Because that's not the impression they want to make.

They want to leave these people with a white-washed lie.
These people aren't going to leave with a real experience of this city. They are experiencing a cold, outer shell. They are not experiencing the warmth, the life of this city.

Este es por qué hay 4 policía en cada cuadra (con sus armas). Este es por qué no hay vendedores autorizados en Alcalá toda la semana. Este es por qué han acompañado todas las personas indígenas lejos. Este es por qué han pintado sobre el graffiti político. Porque "esta" no es la impresiona que la gente importante de Oaxaca quieren hacer.  

Quieren dejar la gente importante del mundo con un "white-washed lie" - es decir, algo que la gente blanca y sensitiva pueden apreciar.
Pero estas personas no van a dejar con una experiencia real de esta ciudad. Están experimentando una carcasa externa y fría. No están  experimentando la calidez o la vida de Oaxaca. 

No.
The men in the suits have made sure that the beating heart of Oaxaca has been transplanted into some hidden part.

No. 
Los hombres en los trajes han asegurado que el corazón que late de Oaxaca ha sido transplantado en algún lugar oculto. 

Oppress, oppress, oppress. Lie, lie, lie. Is this really the world we live in?
Oprima, oprima, oprima. Mentira, mentira, mentira. Esta es realmente el mundo en cuál vivimos? 

I am ready for Saturday. I will buy the all of the bookmarks and hug all of the women selling scarves, and eat endless nieve and potatoes, and tell the jewelry guys I've missed them and maybe I'll even drawn an anarchist symbol on the freshly painted buildings because I love Oaxaca's face without all of the make-up.

Estoy listo para sábado. Voy a comprar todos las marcas de libros, y abrazar todas las mujeres que venden bufandas, y comer toda la nieve y papas, y decir a los hombres que venden la joyería que les he extrañado y...quizá vaya a dibujar un símbolo anarquista en un edificio con pintura fresca...porque me encanta la cara de Oaxaca sin todo el maquillaje.

I wish everyone did.
Me gustaría si todo la gente sentirían la misma manera.

Thoughts and Pensamientos.

I think next week is my last week of classes. 
I think being here has changed me forever. 
I'm not sure how I will ever be the same. 

Pienso que la próxima semana es la última semana de mis clases.
Creo que estar aquí me ha cambiado para siempre.
Yo no sé como voy a regresar a mi vida, a mí misma...

It's hard to explain, but this place just fits. I feel ridiculous saying that, because I'm from nowhere and I've never belonged anywhere. But, this place feels like me. Maybe I lived here in a past life or something, because it feels so familiar. It's been easy for me to thrive here.

Es difícil explicar, pero esta lugar es mi lugar. Me siento tonta para decirlo, porque soy de ninguna parte y nunca había pertenecido alguna parte. Pero, esta lugar siente como yo. Quizá vivía aquí en una vida pasada, porque todo siente familiar. Ha sido fácil para prosperar aquí.

And, I know, I talk a lot about community - but that's because it's something that plagues me constantly. I have only ever had ephemeral communities; they've rejected me, or I've rejected them. I speak constantly of roots because mine have been cut short.

Yo sé - hablo mucho sobre la idea de comunidad, pero eso es porque es algo que me molesta constantemente. Solo he tenido comunidades efímeras; me han rechazado, o les he rechazado. Hablo constantemente de raíces porque mis raíces se han cortado corto.

Maybe I only fit in fast paced places with high turnover rates in regard to population. Maybe I only feel like I fit in places where I don't because that has been my experience. Perception is everything.

Quizá solo pertenezco en lugares que tengan muchos transeúntes. Quizá solo creo que pertenezco en lugares donde no es verdad porque esta es mi experiencia. Todo es percepción, no? Y percepción es todo. 

But, talking like this frightens people. It frightens me, too. Who wouldn't be afraid to admit that they don't fully know who they are? Who isn't scared to say they're still learning about their self? But I think I've come to realize that it's okay to be "under construction." It's okay to emerge from the cocoon shaped like a million different butterflies. It's okay to be in motion. Stagnate water is grounds for disease. I like to think life is infirmed in the same way - - - stagnation. 
Pero, cuando hablo en esa manera, ustedes tienen miedo. Y tengo miedo también. Quién no tendría miedo para admitir que no saben (sepan? no sé porque solo hay 1 sujeto pero es algo que expresa dudo) a quién son. Hay alguien que no tiene miedo para decir que todavía está aprendiendo sobre sí mismo? Pero, pienso que me he dado cuenta que no es un problema ser "bajo construcción." No es un problema surgir de la crisálida 1000 veces y cada vez surgir como algo nuevo. Es una cosa hermosa ser "en movimiento." Agua estancada siempre es peligrosa - es el lugar donde nace la enfermedad. Me gusta pensar que la vida se enferme en la misma manera - - - el estancamiento.

I don't want to be a breeding pond for mosquitos. 
I don't want you to be a breeding pond for mosquitos. 
I want you, dear reader, to find your Alcalá - your pedestrian road, the place or idea that keeps you moving forward. I want you to find your coffee shop, your street vendors, your taco place, your desire for education; I want you to be searching for the place that nourishes your roots.

No quiero ser el lugar donde nacen los mosquitos. 
No quiero que tú seas el lugar donde nacen los mosquitos. 
Deseo que - mi lector - busques tu Alcalá, el lugar o idea que te motives para continuar. Espero que encuentres tu café, tus vendedores de las calles, tu taquería, el deseo para educarte; quiero que estés buscando el lugar que alimentará tus raíces.

I wrote a poem in the last year that combines elements from my childhood with my manner of thinking as an adult...and I think I shared it, but I will share it now again. 

En el año pasado, escribí una poema que combine algunos elementos de mi infancia con mi manera de pensamiento hoy. Y, creo que lo compartí pero compartiré otra vez:

An age ago, I wrote a poem -                      Hace mucho tiempo, escribí una poema 

a little tower of words,                                 una pequeña torre de palabras, 

words painstakingly composed                   palabras compuestas con esmero 

one letter at a time, pieced together            una letra a la vez, delicadamente combinados

like a sorry, blood stained-glass.                 como un triste, vidrio manchado de sangre.

I tried to tell the story of “home.”               Traté decir la historia del "hogar."

I tried to define me. To dig up my roots     Traté definirme, desenterrar a mis raíces

in an effort to prove to myself                      con el fin de demostrar a mí misma 

and the world                                                y el mundo 

that I have them.                                           que tengo raíces.

But here is the truth:                                    Pero aquí está le verdad:

I am from the inbetween spaces.                  Soy de los lugares "entre." 

I am like that dandelion spore -                    Soy como la espora del diente de león - 

floating in the summer sunlight,                   que este flotando en el sol del verano 

landing on a patch of earth,                          y aterrizando en un pedazo de la tierra - 

staking my claim as fast as I can                  como la espora, reclamo que puedo rápidamente

only to be uprooted as quickly as I’ve landed,             solo ser desenterrado 

because dandelions are unsightly                                 porque los dientes de leónes son feos 

and if you let one grow, then it begins to multiply      y si permites para crecer incluso uno, multiplicará

and your kind just doesn’t belong here.                         y cosas como tu no pertenencen aquí

I am from the spaces underneath,                Soy de los espacios más abajo 

and I fit in the spaces in between,                 y encajo en los espacios entre

transitory, migrating                                      transitoria, migratoria 

an odd weed masquerading as a flower.      una hierba extraña, enmascarada como un flor

So, that is what is on my mind today. Because that seems to be what is on my mind every day.
And I feel like a failure, because I didn't tell you about yesterday - about how I hung out in Altako and chose music for every diner's listening pleasure. About the tamal I gave to the hungry man. About the musical, magical Zócalo. About the fact that it was 85 here, but people were wearing sweaters.

What a place to live when you feel you need to wear a sweater when it's 80+ outside!!

Estas son las cosas en mi mente hoy...pero, estas son las cosas en mi mente todos los días. Y me siento como un fracaso porque yo no dije sobre ayer - sobre como pasaba la tarde en Altako y elegí música por el placer de la gente... o sobre el tamal que dí a un hombre con hambre. Sobre el zócalo, musical y mágico.... o sobre el hecho que fue 85 F ayer, pero la mayoría de la gente han llevado suéteres.

Que lugar para vivir cuando es necesario usar un suéter cuando la temperatura es 80!!

And tomorrow, Matt arrives! New adventures begin!Y, mañana, Matt va a llegar aquí! Aventuras nuevas van a empezar.

Nikkingléspañol No More

English speakers, the post in your language is after the post in Spanish!

Pienso que es tiempo...tiempo para un blog en español.
No voy a prometer que este post vaya perfecto, pero voy a hacer lo mejor que puedo.

Y trataré para no pensar sobre mis errores.
Y no voy a usar un diccionario.

Okay? Okay.

Y, sí, voy a traducirlo en inglés también...pero quiero que sabes que el post en inglés no vaya ser lo mismo. Es imposible, porque inglés no es una idioma que hablas con el corazón. En el otro lado, español es un idioma que requiere todo tu cuerpo (y mente, obviamente) para hablar.

Pues...que cosas son nuevas en mi vida? Ya sabes que mis clases privadas empezaran esta semana...y todavía pienso que hice la decisión correcta. Me encanta mi maestro, y me gusta que él tiene mucha paciencia... porque estoy muy, muy lento y - a veces - obstinada.

Y que sobre mi ciudad - Oaxaca? Que cosas puedo compartir? Yo debería informarte sobre la burbuja que yo encontré? O la otra noche cuando estaba música en la calle cerca de mi casa, y toda la gente bailaron? O, quizá, la mujer que vende fruta en Alcalá? Quiero explicar en detalle la manera en cual los globos brillar incluso cuando no hay luz. Deseo que entiendas todos los ruidos de la ciudad que significan vida y vivacidad.

Me encantaría compartir y describir la importancia del afecto y comunidad...cosas que son nada menos que prevalente y evidente en cada calle, con cada persona. Okay...esta va a sonar un poco cómico, pero me gusta ver la mucha gente besar en las calles. En los estados unidos, el afecto es una cosa más o menos privada. Es peculiar ver gente dan afecto en las calles. Si tratas besar alguien en público, es posible recibir un beso pequeño, o quizá tu pareja tendrá tu mano...pero hay mucha vergüenza y estigma adjunto con afecto en público.

Aquí, es refrescante ver gente que tienen orgullo en sus parejas. Es algo especial que la gente quiere compartir y mostrar sus afectos por el otro. Si toda la gente en el mundo amarían con más libertad - si más gente tenían menos reservas y inseguridades resultado de miedo y percepción - quizás el mundo sería un lugar más tranquilo, más feliz. Más, más...seguro, más - yo no sé, pero creo que me gustaría vivir en aquel mundo.

Okay - y sobre mi vida aquí en Oaxaca? Cómo he pasado mis días esta semana?
Hmmm, ayer me despedí a Francis - mi amigo constante aquí desde mi primer día. Y más temprano en la semana, yo convencí el cocinero de Altako para preparar pozole vegetariano (voy a comerlo mañana a las 8).

Que más? --- hmm, cada día yo saludo a Pedro, un hombre que vende camisas políticas en Alacalá. Y 2 veces esta semana, yo compré fruta con granola. Yo estudiaba en casa, frente a la escuela, en el zócalo (pero en el zócalo, usualmente estoy mirando las personas).

Ya sabes que fui al mercado, pero no sabes la alegría yo siento cuando compro tortillas - jaja. Y, mientras estoy pensando sobre eso...hay un snack aquí se llama alegría. Probablemente como una alegría todos los días.

Es imposible sentir triste, deprimido, o algo negativo cuando tienes alegría en tus manos.
Me encanta este juego de palabras....
Pues, es el fin de mi post en español, y estoy un poco enojado que no usé más subjuntivo. Pienso que hay instancias en que podría usarlo...

Maestro? Que piensas? :)

And now, it's time for the English version: Goodness, this is a lot of work.
All of the above reads somewhat as follows:

Well, I think it's time. Time for a blog in Spanish. I'm not going to promise you that it will be perfect, but I will do the best I can.

And I will try not to think about my mistakes.
And I'm not going to use a dictionary.

Okay? Okay.

And, yes, I'm going to translate it into English as well, but I want you to know that the post in English isn't going to be the same. It's impossible, because English isn't a language you speak with your heart. On the flip side, Spanish is a language that requires your entire body (and mind, obviously) to speak it.

So, what about the new things in my life? You already know that my private classes began this week and I still think I made the right decision. I love my teacher, and I really like that he has so much patience because I'm really, really slow and - sometimes - a bit stubborn.

And what about my city, Oaxaca? What things can I share? Am I able to tell you of the bubble I encountered? Or the other night when music was playing in the street by my house, and everyone came out to dance? Or maybe about the woman who sells fruit on the pedestrian road? I want to explain in detail the way in which the balloons in the Zócalo shine, even when there is no light. I want you to understand how all of the sounds of the city indicate that there is life and vivacity happening all the time.

I would love to share and explain the importance of affection and community - things which are nothing less than prevalent and evident in each street, in each person. Okay, this is going to sound a little weird, but I love to see the numerous couples kissing in the streets. In the US, affection is one of those things that is more private; it's weird to see people giving affection in public there. Generally speaking, if you try to kiss someone (in the US) in public, you may receive a small kiss in return, or some hand holding...but there is a lot of shame and stigma attached to public affection.

Here, it's refreshing to see that people have pride in their partners. It feels like something special that the people want to share and demonstrate their affections for one another. If all of the people in the world would love more freely, if more people had less reservations and insecurities born from fear and perceptions of others, perhaps the world would be a more tranquil place - happier, safer.

I don't know, but I'd like to live in that world.

Okay. And what about my life in Oaxaca? How have I been spending my days this week? Well, yesterday I said goodbye to Francis - my constant friend here for the last month. And earlier in the week I convinced the chef at Altako to make vegetarian pozole, which I'm going to eat tomorrow at 8.

And what else? Every day I say hello to Pedro, a guy who sells political shirts on the pedestrian street. And twice this week I've purchased fruit with granola from the most precious old woman. I've been studying (in my house, in front of the school, in the zócalo - although in the Z I'm usually people watching).

You already know that I went to the market this week, but you don't know about the joy I feel when I purchase fresh tortillas! And speaking of "joy" there is a snack here called "alegría" (which means joy). I probably eat at least one a day.

It's impossible to feel sad, depressed, or anything negative when you're holding "joy" in your hands.
Oh I love word play.

Well, that is the end of my post. I had hoped to use more of the subjunctive (in Spanish) and I probably had many opportunities and just missed them. Good thing I'm going to ask my teacher to read the blog :)

Because Part of Me is Missing When I Miss You

I have failed to do my task of a blog a day.
I'm sorry for that.

But, hey, at least it keeps you wondering what I'm up to....right? Well, to be honest, I spent most of this weekend feeling terribly homesick. As you are probably well aware, being homesick isn't really in my repertoire.

But, I received some rough news on Friday night. So of course the only thing I could (and can) think about is how badly I wish I was with my family. Either way, when I use my rational mind, I realize that wanting to be home, or even being home, doesn't change anything. And I'm happy here.

And the world is small. I can be anywhere I need to be in a single day.

And this weekend was busy. Busy is good for distractions! Saturday found me returning to Monte Alban and playing in the Zocalo with friends. And then Sunday found us in Teotitlan del Valle -- what an amazing place!!! We walked to a waterfall (a man made one, but still very beautiful) and looked at the different birds. We hiked through brush and flowers down to the stream.

Apparently, when it rains and the water is high, people from the town come to bathe in the water.
I would, too. What a place.

Teotitlan is situated just outside of the city - next to that mountain I love so much. By the way, did you know that you can climb that mountain? There's a cross at the top. The town is more or less known for its textile production. The center is full of shops which display blankets and rugs, tapetes and other amazing things woven on hand-operated looms.

We didn't buy anything, because that's not what we were there for. We were there to hang out with Chonita (she works at the school). She's the one who led us on the expedition up the hill, and who took us to eat nieve (like ice cream, kind of) afterwards.

I'd go back there.
Even if I stand out like a very, very, sore thumb.

And last night, we went to the Zocalo to close out the book-fair festivities by watching a play! It was in Spanish, which made it just a little bit difficult for me (because, as badly as I want to understand everything, I just don't). Luckily, gesticulations and intonation made it easy for me to follow along - and today I was able to debrief it in class...because my teacher was part of the production.

Seriously. Education 24/7.

Speaking of classes, today I started doing clases privadas. There are a few reasons for this: 1. something wasn't clicking in my other class...I was feeling unmotivated and frustrated, 2. because there were so many chatty people in the class, it was easy for me to hide behind them and go the entire 4 hours without saying a word, 3. I'm in a different place than the people in my class from last week, and I have different language needs that I need met.

My teacher brain told me to advocate myself, to push myself out of the comfort zone.
I have Kumashiro's theory of discomfort playing on repeat in my mind.
It's in the uncomfortable spaces where we grow the most.
I need growth. I'm tired of this plateau.

So today was 3 hours of Omar y yo.
I feel confident in saying I made a good decision.
I just want to be able to flip that switch in my brain and be a Spanish thinker.

After class, I stuck around for a while to do some of my tarea. Then, I went to the market where I bought 8 oranges, 10 apples, 7 tomatoes, 10 guava, 10 potatos, 1 kg of tortillas, 3 avocados, and a bunch of bananas for approximately $5 USD.

Seriously.
I also bought 2 notebooks for about $3 USD.
Why do I need notebooks? To reorganize my crazy notes, of course.

Which is what I'm going to do when I'm done writing this. But I still have more to say!

I have been thinking, recently, about the beauty of the Spanish language. The lack of certain direct translations. There are some feelings and ideas that can't be expressed in English, at least not in the same way.

I like Spanish because it's more than a language you speak. It's a language you feel. I wish I could take some of the words and phrases and open your chests and insert them into your hearts so that you could know, too.

I wish I could do that with this whole experience.

The Teacher Student

It's interesting being a teacher-student. I'm hyper aware of teaching strategies, my learning style, the needs of the other students in the class, what's working, what's not.

Being in class has been a good reminder of how I must sometimes make my students feel (yes, including my native speakers). For example, the other day we had the most frustrating homework in which we had to arrange and conjugate the words of others into a specific sentence.

I understood the concept and the intention of the words and the sentence they would form, but I wanted to make something longer and more complete. However, that was incorrect. My understanding of the activity and my style of learning and comprehension didn't match the lesson's objective.

But, I'm not an objective. I'm a person.
So I expressed this concern to the teacher - This isn't what I would say. This doesn't show my understanding. This doesn't reinforce my knowledge. This isn't how I would write this.

Then, we commenced a writing exercise using the learned concepts in our own words.
It's so much more useful when you can exercise your own understanding of a concept and not be confined to a box or curriculum.

This has had me thinking about our terrible education system, and all the kids who sit and stare at their homework every night feeling inept and unable. They're capable kids, they just need the opportunity to show their knowledge and understanding in authentic ways.

We don't give people enough authentic chances.

It's interesting to be able to evaluate myself as student and teacher. And it's especially helpful to know how to advocate for myself. This week has been hard for me as I've really missed my original teacher. It's hard to give up someone who teaches to your learning style.

--- Anyway, today was another simple day. I woke up, ate fruit and beans and tortillas and went to school. On my way to school, I desperately hoped to come across a fruit stand so I could eat some grapefruit, and my wish came true! Not that it's a surprise. There are fruit people all over the place.

I was so happy to eat my grapefruit.

Then, there was class. It was class. Not great, not terrible. Just class. And I was really tired. And then I got hungry, so after class I went to look for food but the place I wanted to eat at was too expensive for what I had in my wallet...

So I ate at home. And then I did my dishes. And then I took El Principito (a book) and my things to school where I did my homework {I like studying near teachers} and read. I just look up and write down the words and phrases I don't know. While I was studying, my former teacher came over and I got a mini-lesson about the past-subjunctive.

I love school.

After studying, Francis, Chonita, Lisa, Billy, Trinedad, and myself went down the street to a bar. Inside, there was a wall with a waterfall. Chonita and Trinedad got drinks they didn't like that had tapioca pearls in them. We took turns being silly, saying silly things, and playing with wax lips.

You know, like adults do.

And then I went home. Oh, the groundskeeper at this place kills me. He's the funniest guy around. He's like something out of a sitcom. I hope to find the time and words to fully explain him. He's a riot.

I Need Music

Today, I wore the dress that Oaxaca loves.

You're probably wondering what that means. Well, let me explain it to you - - - I have this dress that I love. It's blue on the bottom, white on the top. It's cute, and hits me about 4 inches above the knee. It's not a flashy dress, or a sexy dress.

It's just a dress.

But it is a magical, compliment, attention seeking dress that would make the ugliest of humans feel like the most beautiful...because without fail, every time I exit the house in this dress, I am overwhelmed by comments and compliments and cat-calls and "hey girls" and more.

It's really freaking weird.

But that's the dress I chose to wear today, and let's be honest...it was good for my self esteem. And I needed a power dress because I definitely slept through my alarm - I definitely had to eat a banana for breakfast while bolting to school - I didn't didn't get to take a shower or put on makeup in the morning .... so I felt gross.

But I looked awesome.

And school was alright, too. I think my favorite part was laying in the sun after class, doing my homework. I like homework. I like the sun. I like being able to study around my teachers so that they can answer my questions.

After I finished my homework, I was able to take myself home and eat something.
Oh how I miss my Martita....she cooks better than I ever will.
After eating (vegetables and tortillas), I took a shower. The water in my new apartment gets warm really fast.

Then, I spent some time on my computer - walked to the school - met up with friends - drank a fruit drink - walked to the Cafe and tried to study - came home.

Now I've been home, vegging out and chatting with folks. Sometimes, it's nice to just do that.

He Hates Metallica

Dad, I don't think you're going to like this story. There's a new game I play when I'm bored now. It's called, "I talk to cops."

For example, when I'm sitting at a cafe or in front of a building waiting to meet up with people...and they're late or something, then I go over to the cops and ask them questions that are ridiculous to answer (like where can I find a place that re-sells....).

Or, like the other day, we walked past these two cops that we always see standing in the same place - seemingly guarding nothing (and obviously being sketchy). And so I went over and asked, "What are you doing here every day, all day?"

The cops are usually nice.
Unless they're hitting on me. Then they're not nice.
But usually, they just go along with the game.
That's why it's fun.

And that's my anecdote for the day. Now for the run-day of Tuesday:

I woke up really early with a bit of a stomach bug (which I've seemingly shaken since).
That didn't deter me from eating my last breakfast at my host-home (Martita, I miss you already). At breakfast, we talked about my future plans in Oaxaca, my plan for the day, if I needed a taxi to transport me from there to my new apartment...

And then I left, feeling a little sad and a little sick, for school. I love school. So I'm glad I went, even though I was feeling sick. I enjoy interacting with the various teachers and getting to know the students from around the world. And, of course, I love to learn and I love to practice.

I am good at being a student.

Nevertheless, my awesome student-ness didn't convince Omar to let me ring the bell at the break. He promised that I'll get to do that tomorrow. He's probably going to forget. But not me!

After school, I went home and checked to make sure I had everything packed. Then I ate lunch and spent time with my host family - we talked about Paula & Renee's kids (who are also named Paula y Renee) and then it was time to go!

I got in the cab, promised to visit the host family, and made my way into the "historic center" to set myself up in my new little apartment. I'm about 5 minutes walk from the Zocalo, which means I'm in the action of the city.

Unfortunately, I'm now 25 minutes walking from the school. I guess that means I'll be getting good exercise.

My new little apartment is really cute. It's only one room + a bathroom, but it's all one person needs. I have a tiny kitchen which allows me to cook some things (like boiling potatoes) and a dresser that fits all my things exactly.

Also, I'm like 3 minutes away from Cafe Brujula. If I'm not a regular there already, then I definitely will be now.

Oh - and I went to the market to buy some groceries. I love el mercado, but it's really overwhelming. People want you to buy their stuff, and so they're pretty aggressive about it. They all push things towards you and yell at you to buy it (they tell you what it is, the price, etc). And, if you touch ANYTHING you instantly get a spiel about the product.

I have been learning not to touch things in the markets.
The next thing I need to learn is to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

That's probably not going to happen tonight. 

I Talk to Cops.

Around here you sometimes hear, "If you want to see how real people live, travel outside of the city."

I have a small issue with this saying. The people in the city, the people who I live with, they are real people.

I think what people mean to say is this: "If you want to see how the majority of people live around here, travel outside the city center."

I agree with this.
If you want to know how the majority of the people live in the state of Oaxaca, you're going to have to travel outside the area in which I currently live to see it.

It's a little bit "backwards." It's opposite from the US. At least close to the city. All the poverty is on the hill, and the wealth is in the valley.

Of course, there is a hill that is ridiculously wealthy.
So maybe I'm wrong.

I'm just trying to describe how things are around here. But, like I say in every post, it's not really possible. You have to see it and know it for yourself.

And on that note - you might be wondering what I did today.
Well, I went to school. And upon entering the school, I found out I was in a new class with a new teacher. And, after crying to Omar for 5 minutes about the injustices of these changes, he convinced me that I am ready for a more advanced level Spanish and assured me that new classmates and a new teacher won't be the end of the world.

I am hoping this is true. I'm apprehensive about the people in my class. I'm apprehensive in general. I miss my teacher.

After class, I dropped off laundry, picked up the keys to my new apartment in Oaxaca, packed my things, and then around 4 I started studying....until 830.

At some point, I met up with Francis (and Thora) at Cafe Brujula and my favorite barista has a cold too! So, maybe he spread his disease to me via money or licking my tea-mug? Or maybe it's coincidence.

Anyway, that's been my day. Tomorrow, I move to my new place.
I'll take photos.

Can't Let a Cold Slow Me Down

I think I've eaten potato chips or french fries every day this week.
The people who sell them on the street must sprinkle crack on them.

Tomorrow, I will not eat potato chips or french fries.
I will not.

And, I think I live here now...because there are two places in the city where people know me (and my preferences) by name. This morning, I walked into Cafe Brujula - I haven't been for like 4 or 5 days - and they all cheered.

I guess they missed me.

And then, this evening, when I walked into the taco place, the chef just looked at me and put 4 fingers in the air (as in "would you like 4 tacos?") and started making them. He even put fresh avocado in them.

I think that means I'm eating too many tacos.
But, a girl's gotta eat.

And I must live here, because I'm not afraid to talk to people in Spanish on the street. And because I know what's a fair price and what's a price gouge. And I bought a book in Spanish. And I have an apartment.

Yep, today, I got my own apartment - right near the Zocalo!

But before I secured a place to live for the next month, I had a super-fun day with Francis and Thora. We walked through a massive book festival in the Zocalo (which I was basically drooling over) and then I bought some potato chips and then we asked about 400 people for directions to a place to catch a bus to Monte Alban.

Eventually, and kind of by accident, we found the place and (after buying water and advil) made our way up there. The road to Monte Alban is ridiculous. It winds and curves and twists and narrows and makes you sick and scared and astonished all at once.

Think knight-bus from Harry Potter meets cat-bus from Totoro, and then put it in Mexico.

I would be terrified to drive here. It's really scary.
A few times, I was certain the vehicle would flip right over the mountain. Right over the edge.

Obviously, that didn't happen.
Instead, we made it up the mountain alive - and walked up a ways further - and passed all the street vendors (maybe we stopped to try on hats) - and made our way to the ticket counter where I tried to convince him to let us in for free (as we are all students at a school in Oaxaca, and students with ID get in free)....but we didn't have ID (because the school doesn't issue IDs).

So we bought our tickets and went in.
There is something about mountain air, and about getting out and away from the noise of the city...

Monte Alban (an archeological site that is said to be one of the earliest cities in Mesoamerica --- about 500 BCish) is a beautiful place. Right now, because of the rainy season (which hasn't totally ended yet), everything is amazing and green. The view from the top of the mountain is - in a really cliche way - absolutely breathtaking.

Or maybe that's just the altitude reminding me I'm far above sea level (after climbing the steepest stairs ever).

And, not surprisingly, I found myself contemplating my own existence as I walked on the proof of others...and Thora and Francis and I engaged in a conversation about the current year/dating system (A.C. and B.C.) and existence and evidence and Stonehenge and Easter Island.

After ooh-ing and aww-ing and dodging one of my many new "friends" (I'm really good at making unsolicited friends wherever we go) we returned to our beloved city, bought french fries, ate tacos, hung out at Billy's house and went our separate ways for the evening.

I viewed an apartment.
Now, I'm contemplating the packing I should be doing...and wondering if I ought to take a taxi to my new place.

Oh, and I'm blowing my nose a lot because I have a terrible cold.
Booooo!

Days of the Dead

This post is a two-in-one, since I didn't get to post yesterday (the festivities required my full attention). So, fasten your seatbelts. I have a lot to say.

It feels like Christmas.

That probably sounds weird, but it's the truth. I woke up yesterday at 6 AM to the garbage man ringing his jingle-bells and made my way to the kitchen (today, too) to a table of bread and orange juice and hot chocolate and tea and water and the magical foods Martita makes. If you know my family, you know Christmas means hot chocolate, orange juice, bread...

It feels like Christmas. Or family. 

It feels important. 

It is important.
In fact, nothing is more important than this. You'll have to figure out why on your own someday.

There is a beauty in the Day of the Dead that I haven't experienced in any capacity in any way near to what I've been feeling and experiencing these last few days. It is inspiring. It is comforting. It's community, tradition. It's perfect.

It's perfect.

The city is buried in millions of flowers. The city is buried in Day of the Dead bread. The city is buried in sugar skulls, chocolate, mezcal and comparsas. Yesterday after classes, Francis and Thora and I went to the panteon here in the city. It was dark and beautiful, and the care and affection of family and friends towards their loved ones was made evident by the elaborate and ample offerings of gifts. This cemetery had a few walking tourist-tours, which made me a little annoyed. But the overall experience was a good one, which left me pumped for the rest of the night.

After the panteon in the centro, my schoolmate-friends and I took cabs from el centro to Xoxo to visit two more panteones (cemeteries). I told my Spanish jokes to the cab driver. He laughed harder than anyone ever has laughed at my jokes.

Anyway, it's very important that there are two panteones in Xoxo. One of them is very old. The other is "new." The experience of the Day of the Dead in the new panteon is a even mix of authentic and commercial. When there are port-a-potties and 15+ street food options, you know that there must be a lot of visitors around.

In the new panteon, people sat and stood everywhere. People lit candles, cried, laughed, danced, sung. There was a band playing on the far right side, and we went to listen. As suddenly as I appeared in the area, I was swept off to dance by an older Honduran man. His accent was really hard to understand, by the way. After that, we encountered a man who invited us to hear about his experience with Day of the Dead. He told us of his baby daughter, of the comfort there is to be found in remembering the lives of others with others. He said that, for as long as he could remember, there had always been vendors in the panteon, selling cotton candy and chips.

He didn't like the commercial aspect of it. It's a beautiful thing to want to experience and adopt the traditions of others, but you shouldn't expect them to alter or be catered to you. You embrace it, or you are best to leave it alone.

I didn't like the commercial aspect either. I didn't like that so many of the spectators of this tradition chose to pre-grame heavily with alcohol. How can you appreciate a tradition, a culture, an experience if you are too drunk to walk in a straight line? Yes. This is a celebration. A celebration you must be present for.

I heard someone say tonight that they were bored last night. That is because you cannot enjoy something you are not present for.

I was far from bored. I was in awe, in shock, in wonder; I was annoyed at the disrespect and lacking of understanding bleeding from the pores of idiots. I was stopped in my tracks and humbled by forgotten graves. By the evidence of class differences even after death. I was encouraged and surprised by peoples willingness to share their stories.

It was much easier to get to hear peoples stories after separating myself from the larger group.
When you are 1 or 2 people, other people will feed you candied pumpkin and ponche. They'll let you use their bathrooms, explain traditions to you, tell you stories...

Learning experiences. Teachable moments.

There was a second panteon. The old one. I much, much preferred it to the other one. There were families there, but there were no vendors. There weren't any tourists because there wasn't a giant party happening. And who wants to watch people practicing their traditions?

That's obviously so boring. ^^^
Let me stop to roll my eyes now.

There is nothing boring about something as beautiful as this. In the old cemetery, a very old chapel had crumbled. The graves are wonky and hodge podge because they've shifted. And no one was forgotten. Every grave had a flower, even if it was only one.

It is obviously a place where everyone gets taken care of. Including the gringa (me). Over these last few days, if people have anything to offer - they offer it. Even to me. The outsider. If their comparsa stops in the street and they have food, their food becomes our food. When the music starts, and the dancing begins, everyone dances. Spectating is allowed, but participation is much more desired and encouraged.

Something I've continuously felt while being here is "taken care of." I'm surrounded by people who take care of one another, and when I'm here "one another" includes me. I have more words I want to say about this, but I don't want to ruin it. I don't want to dissect it.

Today was probably too exciting for my own good. I woke up at 7, ready to eat breakfast and go to school....running on 3.5 hours of sleep. Strangely, I had enough energy to engage in class (I even wrote a poem for someone for their birthday) and to celebrate with the school after class.

And boy what a celebration we had. I can't tell you what happened in full detail because you'd be ashamed and jealous all at once.
I will tell you that we made a video, and you'll probably be able to put the pieces together. 

I had a lot of fun. I danced a lot.
I talked to many people.
I wore a mask.
I climbed a tree with a child.
I laid on a bench. I laid on a ledge. I laid in a tree. I laid on the sidewalk in front of the school.

Eventually, I went home and slept for a little over an hour. But only because I needed more energy for more partying! Luckily, we just had a chill little get together at the hostel where an older Iranian man wrote something beautiful in Farsi on my arm.

Then we went into town to enjoy the festivities in the streets.
Then I came home and failed to put it adequately into words.