sabado, 25 marzo, 2006

still running a little behind, it’s earlyish sunday morning, but I’m gonna pretend like it’s still saturday.

bagel barn for breakfast, actually just oj. emailed denise nine year felicitations, uploaded blog, checked a little news.

spent most of the day walking and looking for a place to have lunch. wanted something new, but nothing looked all that appealing. took a lot of photos on the way – doors, walls, sidewalks. wound up at “reds” in the afternoon, had never eaten there. ordered a beer and looked at the menu. asked for a numero treinta y dos (cheese sandwich with tomato and basil), but my accent is apparently so bad that the bartender thought I wanted a numero veintaidos, which turned out to be nachos with beans and cheese, not really a bad choice and so I at it anyway.

met a girl from San Francisco, had more beers.

the thing about hemingway’s violence is that it’s not really fear driven. there is an element of fear that he describes about when tracking or approaching a wounded animal, and that adrenaline rush seems to be one of the attractive elements he finds in the hunt, but fear is just an aspect of the hunt, not a driving force in its violence. fear played more of a role in the cruelties of henry II, richard and john; but even they were also responding to a certain disregard for the lives of others. each was trying to hold his kingdom together, so there was a certain fear of societal collapse, but there was also a greed and arrogance involved. like hemingway, they felt they had a right to take life, which represents a very different mind set than I think most of us adhere to today. nevertheless, there are many people who feel that the war and capital punishment are ok – which admittedly, despite my disagreement with that view, is a long way from the old English kings… although, the question could be asked in regard to hemingway’s actions, which seem so condescendingly and arrogantly cruel and callous, are they any worse than taking part in the atrocities of the meat industry (not to mention poultry) by eating steaks, hamburgers, etc… at least hem was hunting free range and trying for a “clean kill” (although not always succeeding).

are we advancing or are we simply applying new rules and methods to old cruelties. the headlines always seem to mention 30-50 something daily dead in iraq, there’s always somebody blowing a fuse somewhere and shooting there neighbor or office mate or fellow student. but, there are also countless people who are not doing these things and presumably think it’s right to not do them and are in control enough of their emotions and empathetic enough with their fellow beings, to not go out and recklessly kill or harm.

it’s very difficult to know what life was like in the past, what thoughts people had… we can read what some wrote, but they only represent a very small vocal minority. presumably most people have always been peace loving, but is that true and on what is it based… many have always seemed very ready to distinguish between the rights of their own group and those of an outsider. we’re in a position now to begin breaking down those tribal distinctions, but can people look at it with that big picture mentality? obviously some can, but what does that mean as far as majority goes?

apparently there were demonstrations yesterday in LA about the guest worker program and a bill that would make it a felony to be an illegal immigrant, interesting way to celebrate denise’s and my anniversary…

domingo 26 marzo, 2006

and it really is. sunday evening now and I’ll make a quick entry and be caught up after my negligent weekend of morning entries for the preceding day. found a new place for breakfast this morning, the menu said huevos al gusto, but they just made ‘em scrambled (revuelvos). I looked in both my dictionaries for the equivalent of, “overeasy” but it wasn’t there. it’s entirely possible that nobody has ever introduced overeasy eggs to the world’s Spanish speaking population… if that’s the case, then it hardly seems to be my place to let out the secret. I liked the scrambled, which came with black refried beans, a bit of cheese, melon and bread.

after breakfast, the sky had cleared a bit and I decided to walk up to cerro de la cruz afterall. I’ve been meaning to do that for awhile, but when I think of it there are always clouds blocking the top of volcan agua, and the main point to going up there is to get a good photo of the town with the volcano behind. so, this morning there was just one cloud in front and it didn’t obscure the peek, so I decided to go for it… afterall, there aren’t that many days left. the weather for the walk up was great, if a little warm. the sky stayed pretty good, but I got my photos taken pretty much just in time. by the time I was home, the sky had clouded up and the volcano was covered.

I’m happy with the photos I took, although they probably would’ve been better had I not lingered over breakfast… but of course, lingering over breakfast is one of my favorite things to do.

did I mention that the main reason I’m looking forward to being finished with Spanish classes is that it will give the opportunity to go out to breakfast in the morning? that sounds familiar, although maybe that was in an email I’ve written recently… hard to tell and I’m not about to go back through rereading previous entries to find something like that out… if I’m repeating myself, please simply forgive me and shake your head in a pitying way while thinking how sad it is that joe’s mind is already going… and he’s such a young man!

and good looking. I have to confess something... I am completely in love with the girl that works at the bakery. I’ve never had a conversation with her beyond the price of bread, but the way she smiles at me melts my heart. she smiles like she really means it, and her eyes light up and look right through mine and she shows me her soul while looking into mine. she’s lovely… I wonder what she’d be like if we shared the same language. as it is, my Spanish is getting better, but I do have a lot of practicing to do… especially if I’m going to be hitting on beautiful bakery girls.

after getting back from the hill I finished my weekend homework. yesterday I had done the exercises, but I still had to write a composition (using presente, preterito, y imperfecto tiempos) I wrote about my day, and that seems to have fit the bill.

then I went up and checked my email in the park, came home and dropped off the computer and then headed back out to have a beer and write a letter to mom and dad at café no sé. on the way, I ran into the procession and took photos.

the question I was asking myself at breakfast today is, how far away from violence am I? I mean, here I am wondering whether mankind can overcome violence or not, and wondering whether it’s necessary or worthwhile even, let alone possible, but feeling that a world without violence is a positive goal… anyway, here I am pondering this stuff and what’s to say that despite my best intentions I might do something violent. how threatened would I have to be before I reacted violently? I don’t know. how much of my pacifism is simply symptomatic of my privileged state of security? if I felt oppressed, threatened, helpless, frustrated, fearful, would I be a violent person? is the only reason I’m not violent because I’m not those other things? and if that’s the case, can we overcome violence by alleviating the existence of those other things? and would that be a desirable goal? and of course I am violent, not often and not physically, but I’ve definitely raised my voice in a violent manner when emotionally stretched.
tomorrow will be monday. in class we’ll finish preposiciones. and then tuesday will be the last day of class and afterwards I’ll go to the bagel barn to post this stuff and catch up on email before heading to the lake wednesday morning. I’ll probably be just as frequent on these postings from there as I have been, but it’s hard to tell. the nice thing about my situation here is that I can sit at home and type this stuff whenever I want, and then just go up and post it, but it’ll probably turn out that once I leave here, I’ll have to go and type it straight on to another computer, which’ll be kind of a drag… hmmm, I think I’ve already mentioned this stuff too… obviously, not only is my mind goin’ but what little I have is dwelling on problems of blog posting… but I’ve still got my good looks.

good night.

lunes, 27 de marzo

alright, to return to blog posting concerns, this will perhaps be the last leisurely posting for awhile… although perhaps not, I don’t know what to expect. but it seems likely that I’ll be writing hurriedly from internet café’s rather than comfortably from the sanctity of my own room.

no real matter, half the time I don’t write patiently and the other half I pay little attention to what comes out of my fingertips, so the change might not be apparent at all… except that photos might be difficult to include… I’m not sure how I’ll get around that one. I hope I can get a good connection tomorrow that will allow me to post a bunch of pics. I’ve taken quite a few over the past couple days and it would be nice to add them. if you see them here, I did, but if not, they might never make it.

school was pleasant. alejandra’s sweet. I’m pretty friendly with this batch of students, although a new batch arrived today that I wont get to know and the group I have befriended are all heading in various directions at various times this week. traveling relationships are pleasant for there ephemerality, but of course less than fulfilling for the same reason.

checked my email after class, got messages from both tim and liz with news about Harold__ in time for me to add a brief note to the letter to mom and dad, before walking to the post office to send it off. bruce won the current chess game, he snuck up on and and I never saw it comin’ took me a minute to figure out why the game wasn’t waiting for me when I went to the website… there was an invitation to the next game though, so I figured it out. I stopped off at the bank after the post office and got some cash to tide me over, not that I think there will be a scarcity of atms anywhere I’m going. came back to my room and did my homework, laundry and took a shower. then I headed back towards the park, snapping photos on the way. wandered through the cathedral, which I’d neglected to do unit now, treated myself to an ice cream cone, then walked over to café no sé for a beer and to make a to do list… it turns out that there seems to be surprisingly little I need to do between now and wednesday morning, and tomorrow of course, I won’t have any homework.

I’m looking forward to being down by the lake, not that I really know what to expect, but I’m hoping for leisurely contemplative days. a lot of things are really coming into focus, but as with the Spanish, I feel the need for more time to reinforce it all… or maybe to just laze around.

I’ve been enjoying striking up conversations… travelers are interesting to get to know and share viewpoints with… although those of us wandering around in C.A. are probably largely likeminded.

here’s a dream for you, and then I’ll call it a night:

it was a hot day. we were in the desert. both the ground and the sky were yellow. I loved you, and was certain of my love for you. I was willing to give you everything with no reservations… do anything… give you my all… trust you and know that you too, loved me.

there was a cold glass bottle of milk there. it had condensation covering its smooth, hard outside surface. it was sooo inviting… it looked so good and quenching/refreshing.

then I didn’t love you, or at least didn’t feel as certain of my love for you as I had.

I reached for the milk. the paper label on the bottle was soaked through from the condensation and it tore away from the bottle as the glue gave way and my hand grasped it firmly. I could feel the paper slip into a soggy mass between my hand and the bottle, but my hold was sure, and I knew there was no danger of the bottle dropping.

I unscrewed the red plastic cap and brought the bottle’s mouth to mine. I drank the milk selfishly, greedily, hungrily, gluttonously devouring it gulp after gulp, not pausing or coming up for air until the bottle was empty and the label was a pulpy wad___ and then I realized that you, the milk, and I were one.

more soon.