..one of those things I think you should know

very nearly didn't post this.. but here goes!

Ok, so this is to do with relationship breakups. Just thought I should let people know (and I'm sure most of you wouldn't do this, but you'd be suprised how much it happens) that when someone has broken up with someone else, you don't immediately jump in with telling them not to worry because 'there's a special person out there waiting just for you - they just haven't turned up yet'. When you've just broken up with someone your world may be in pieces and amongst all the bits of hopes and dreams and impossibly tangled feelings you're grieving this person that, due to whatever circumstances, has been ripped out of your life.

I know people mean well, but it's not about 'finding that one perfect person for you'. It's about knowing and caring for this particular person and who they are.. You don't just go 'oh well they weren't the right one so I'll start looking for someone new'.. maybe they weren't, and in time maybe you will join paths with someone else, but what I'm saying is, that's not the place you're in now.

Yes, I'm speaking from experience here (mine and close friends of mine who've had similar experiences with well-meaning others), and maybe not everyone feels the same way we do, but I think when people say things like the above, it feels like there's no understanding of what it meant.. And that you're freed up and 'on the hunt' again or something. ew.

Oh and I'm definitely not angry with anyone, just so you know! Only thought, maybe I could warn against making this one little mistake.

Cheers,

Flood II - The Aftermath

Oh slender mosquito
I must admit
I feel no guilt
in crushing you -
not one whit!

holiday reading

Books books books (the ones I've read already these hols are bolded)

Harry Potter 5, 6 & 7 (yes, I've been suffering withdrawals since last year's HP 9-day-7-book Challenge)
River Town (fascinating book about a guy's couple of years in a backwater chinese town, I should write a whole post just on it)
Cry, the Beloved Country - Alan Paton
In Patagonia - Bruce Chatwin
Fire & Hemlock - Diana Wynne Jones
The Book of Lights - Chaim Potok
El Leon, la Bruja y el Ropero - CS Lewis
The Silmarilion - JRR Tolkien
.....and finish War & Peace!

Any recommendations?

Flood Fun

I went walking across the swampy oval this morning:



It's funny how exciting it's been, staying in a partially flooded town. Since last friday up until a day or two ago, we had water nearly up to our back fence, and the road at the bottom of the block was totally under water! The river had turned into a lake covering soccer fields, carparks, everything nearby..

For those 5 days or so, I estimated that we had upwards of 1000 cars driving past our place everyday! (at least one per minute, morning-evening) We liked to call them 'flood tourists', dropping by to check the levels - though I'm sure at least some of them were just people frustrated by the road blocks all over town!

I was thinking, it's funny just how fascinating we find stuff like this. Funny cos normally we like to have everything under control, know what's happening and when and how.. have the day run according to plan, etc.

And then something like this happens, and the normal routines get thrown a bit haywire, and everything just looks so weird and different. And it might be a bit annoying (and really sad for all those farmers whose crops are stuffed :( ) but we love it all the same. Maybe we don't actually like everything to be quite so predictable after all..

Here are some flood-nearly-gone pics. Can't find the fully flooded ones at present, sorry!

Course Verdicts

Child Law: excellent, interesting, useful
Lecturer: Mrs passionate & organised

Phil: not bad, often mind-stretching
Lecturer: alert, twitchy dwarf :)

Aboriginal Studies: tolerable - I did actually learn some stuff! a little bit
Lecturer: hardened cynic.. but not without reason

SWRK: blerg (more than less)


Goodbye 2nd yr of uni!!

Tales from Outer Suburbia - Shaun Tan

the nameless holiday

the nameless holiday happens once a year, usually around late August, sometimes October. It is always anticipated by children and adults alike with mixed emotion: It's not exactly festive, but still a celebration of sorts, the origin of which has been long forgotten.

All that is known are the familiar rituals: the laying out of one's most prized possessions on the bedroom floor; then choosing one special object - exactly the right one - and carrying it carefully up a ladder to the roof and leaving it under the TV aerial (already decorated with small shiny things such as chocolate wrappers, old CDs, and the tops off tubs of yogurt, licked clean and threaded with string, tied with special slipknots).

Then there is the traditional midnight picnic in the backyard, front lawn, or any place with a good view of one's own roof - across the street if necessary, which is why families sometimes gather by the roadside on blankets. Here are born fond memories of freshly baked gingerbread crows, hot pomegranate juice as tart as a knife, and small plastic whistles, inaudible to the ears of both humans and dogs. Not to mention all that excited chatter and giggling, all that polite shushing, everyone struggling to observe the convention of silence.

Those who stay awake long enough are rewarded by a momentary sound that never fails to draw a sharp intake of breath - the delicate tapping of hoofs descending on roof tiles. It is always so startling, so hard to believe at first, like a waking dream made solid. But sure enough, there he is, the reindeer with no name: enormous, blind as a bat, sniffing under the TV aerial with infinite patience. He always knows exactly which objects are so loved that their loss will be felt like the snapping of a cord to the heart, and it's only these that he nudges gently until they become hooked onto his great antlers. The rest he leaves alone, leaping gracefully back up into the cool darkness.

What a remarkable, unnameable feeling it is, right at the moment of his leaping: something like sadness and regret, of suddenly wanting your gift back and held tight to your chest, knowing that you will certainly never see it again. And then there is the letting go as your muscles release, your lungs exhale, and the backwash of longing leaves behind this one image on the shore of memory: a huge reindeer on your roof, bowing down.


copyright Shaun Tan, 2008

Harry Potter MLIA

Harry Potter madness hit the Canary household a couple of days ago with all the force of a flock of stampeding hippogriffs. Grand plans for a Christmas party were made, involving dreams of copious amounts of butterbeer, pumpkin juice, pies of all descriptions, every-flavour beans, quidditch-playing, and assigning of dress-up characters to those present (and every other friend that entered our heads)!

Then in the thickest of procrastinatory moods, my own personal HP fever combined with OCDish trawling of MLIA (mylifeisaverage.com*) to bring you this selection:
Enjoy!

'Today I was doing some research and typed into Google, "Where is Hogwarts..." and the suggestion was "Where is Hogwarts located in real life?" I'm glad to know that Google knows that Hogwarts is real. MLIA'

One night my boyfriend was driving me home from his house. When we pulled into my driveway we both saw an owl sitting on our fencepost. He instantly slammed on his brakes, looked at me with wide eyes, and shouted, "Your Hogwarts letter came!" I knew I loved him.MLIA

Today, I realized that everytime I take my cough syrup (it's not the greatest tasting medicine), I pretend it's some sort of Harry Potter potion. It makes it a lot easier to take. MLIA

Today, I was trying to explain to my son why we couldn't give him everything he wanted. Finally, I said that if we did he'd end up like Dudley Dursley. He shut up immediately. MLIA

Today I changed my name in my mother's cell phone to Ron Weasely. About an hour later I texted her. She came into my room screaming excitedly. I feel too bad to tell her she has been conversing with me for the entire day. I don't want to break her heart. MLIA

My aunt is from Mexico. So today when I went to brush my teeth, I found toothpaste. It had Harry Potter on it saying "¡Yo combate las caries con la magia!" Which in English, means "I fight cavities with magic!" Needless to say I know what I want for Christmas. MLIA

Today was celebrity day for the spirit week so naturally i dressed up as Hermione Granger. I was walking through school and losing heart because of the some 1000 odd Justin Beibers, Lady Gagas, and Nicki Minajs i couldn't find another Harry Potter character. Then later during lunch i was sitting, kind of sad, when Harry, Ron, Draco, and Cho ran up to my table screaming "There you are Hermione!! We all have potions homework due next class and we need your help!" We all took a picture together. Easily made my life. :) MLIA

Today, in my spanish class a girl jokingly called her friend a muggle during free time. My teacher responded my promptly jumping out of his chair and yelling, "Don't use that foul language in my classroom!" She has a two-hour long detention now. MLIA

One night quite sometime ago, i had fallen asleep watching "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" and left it on repeat, well i woke up in the middle of the night and went to turn on my other side (away from the tv) when voldermort exclaims "Don't turn your back away from me, i want to see the lights go out in your eyes when i kill you!" I seriously screamed and ran out of my room. MLIA

Today, I changed all of my contacts in my phone to Harry Potter characters. For some people, I couldn't figure out who to put them as, so I texted them, asking them who they want to be. The usual was Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, Sirius, etc. But one friend said "either Fluffy or The Basilisk." New best friend? I think so. MLIA.

Today a guy came to my work dressed up like Spiderman. A little boy ran up to him and told him that he could never beat Harry Potter, then cast a spell on Spiderman, and ran off. I hope my kid will be that cool.MLIA.

Last night the power went out at my apartment complex. I texted my girlfriend, asking her to keep me company, and she told me to light a candle and pretend that I was in the forbidden section of the library at Hogwarts. She's a keeper. MLIA.

Today i was talking to my mom and told her we needed to get some Bertie Bots Every Flavor Beans (i was meaning Jelly Belly Jelly Beans) She just nodded and wrote it down. Im glad she understands my mind always relates to Harry Potter. MLIA


*MLIA is a site where you can post 'average' experiences and thoughts from your average life.. however somehow it has become a pooling of often hilarious (allegedly true) episodes brimming with pop culture (well, pretty much harry pothead, pirates & ninjas, with some gratuitous twilight-bashing thrown in) and fairytale endings..

On Wagging.

Some thoughts* :

To get the full pleasure from wagging a class, it must be one which you generally feel you should attend, and thus generally do attend, so that when you don't you have a heady, soaring sense of freedom (wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!) - and a slightly wicked joy at your own naughtiness.

It helps if you pick a class which is going to be terribly boring, because afterwards you haven't missed anything whatsoever and you can snigger inwardly at the poor suckers that went along (when later your suspicions of its dullness and utter uselessness are confirmed).

If you happen to be pretending to be sick or fiendishly busy and sacrificial by taking your 2nd cousin-twice-removed-who-is-at-death's-door to the hospital, don't go on facebook. Or wander up to uni to get the paper or a coffee when your class/es are still on.

Last but not least, if you're going to wag, make the most of it! Sleep in! Run, jump and be merry! Climb a tree! Eat cake! Find a hammock and read a book in it! Nap! Sing a song! etc..

*not that I would ever wag a class, you realise...

Fridge Fragments

these were invented with one of those magnetic word kits that you make poems (and other forms of ridiculousness) from.
...created by the canaries and friends!

It is always essential chocolate day.

Sing friend
and spray purple juiceness

music
his raw chant
rain's powerful
wind over the forest

use mother's leg
as car

be a live gift

I am not the flood
wanting beauty like blood

trip
o
u
t
man

dreaming
is love true or are you drunk
weak
sweet

I have the urge to eat the girl from TV
but she would club me on the head

a vision of a frantic fiddle storm symphony

please take my ache

though thousand ships fall
let's swim by time
but stare not.

part of me is ugly with lies

one may ask by worship

whisper love
shine a light in life together
eternity

near this black void
were those who cry

sun
spring
your delirious summer peach goddess
winter

i scream at sad sausages..........

bit o' faith

a prayer of the Northumbria Celtic Community:

Lord, you have always given
bread for the coming day;
and though I am poor,
today I believe.

Lord, you have always given
strength for the coming day;
and though I am weak,
today I believe.

Lord, you have always given
peace for the coming day;
and though of anxious heart,
today I believe.

Lord, you have always kept
me safe in trials;
and now, tried as I am,
today I believe.

Lord, you have always marked
the road for the coming day;
and though it may be hidden,
today I believe.

Lord, you have always lightened
this darkness of mine;
and though the night is here,
today I believe.

Lord, you have always spoken
when time was ripe;
and though you be silent now,
today I believe.


So true, but still hard to remember to trust, - in big things, but even in the little things too like last-minute assignments.. !

sea

really is a baptism of the ocean on your skin.
especially at night when the moon is splashing silver light all over you, and the waves, and the shiny beach.
and the water is in your ears, in your hair, down your face..

life explosion.

Jacek Yerka

Cool Polish artist I bumped into a while back:























fun, surreal, detailed, beautiful fantasy!

5 Years of History in the Strath Team Toilet!!

Yeah, the title pretty much explains it..





And some six years' history of beautiful people - living loving laughing lighting it up:



I was so blessed to be there & a part of the Father's kingdom magic.
And those champs down there continue to inspire, living out this crazy love and grace to (& with) everyone around them, in so many big and little ways.

Jonsi Jonsi Jonsi

It's hard to describe what this concert was like, just one of those had-to-be-there things really. The article further down catches a little of it.


What I remember is feeling like I swelled almost to exploding point with some rather weird, rare kind of music-induced joy. And that I wished he could have played all night at the very least.


I remember us walking, loitering dizzily, skipping, maybe even floating down the rainy street afterwards, getting gelato, hanging off chairs in the sheltered entry to a cinema, alternating between bursting with talk and drifting into happy dazed silences... haha

Darkness and light infused with the joy of being alive

Bernard Zuel - August 4, 2010 SMH

JONSI, Enmore Theatre, August 2

MAYBE the way to understand what it is about Jon Thor Birgisson which appeals (but could just as easily deter, I know) is to step inside the celeste-and-thundering-drums song Animal Arithmetic.

Here, the tall, boyish-looking Icelander usually called Jonsi describes a day of seeming mundanity, of haircuts and breakfast and riding bikes. Then he declares with unfettered enthusiasm, ''every day, everywhere, people are alive … we should all be alive'' as the music rattles along like a pack of pre-teens bursting out the school gates at 3pm.

It could be tacked-on naivety, the sort of faux innocence which grates. Somehow, though, Jonsi finds a way to channel the energy and pleasure of childhood without sinking into childishness (certainly not when another line equally excitedly declares ''get it on, let it out, f---ing and erupting''); to revel in optimism without turning into Pollyanna.

His music and his voice marvel at the colour and spirit of just being and churn with the rolling energy of it, and you can't help but be lifted. Just as you find yourself in some unfeasibly sunny corner when Go Do gallops past you. Go on, it says, I dare you to let go.

Jonsi and his small, multiskilled band, whose members all find a way to play various ancient keyboards, vibraphone, percussion, guitar and bass, don't just do sunniness. The show begins with a slow, darkened mood, grows into something like secular hymns (Grow Till Tall is as angelic and moving as anything by Thomas Tallis) and then, as light bursts through, fills out into a meaty and vigorous width.

Although the night ends with a cataclysmic shower of light and volume and cascading drums which is simply thrilling, these songs are not intended to be as dramatic as the music Jonsi makes with Sigur Ros. Instead they trade on a view that innocence and pleasure can sit next to maturity and heartbreak. We should all be so alive.

Stuff[ed things] I Made

Here are some pics of fun little toys I made in the hols:
(click on them to enlarge photos)


Smirky.

I've got to admit that he is my favourite. I just love his blissful smirk and the way he slouches around so contentedly wherever he is!


Ginny the Giraffe

She was actually given eyes, but I didn't get a pic with them before I gave her away.


Elephant - I can't remember if he ended up with a name!


Little Pup


Thanks to the supercute patterns and ideas in the More Softies book - The Penguin Group 2008.

Funny bits from Desert Trek which I would do cartoons of if I was as clever as some of my friends..!

- Pete playing Bunny Bunny Carrot Carrot (sorry, you had to be there!)

- Sam melting marshmallows on his fingertips


- Watching boys fruitlessly chase goats up and down steep rocky ridges

- What happens when someone who'd been balancing on the other end of a log to someone else gets up

- Doughboy wars
- Running out of sugar and Katrina sweetening pikelets with blobs of marshmallow - so good! They went all caramelly and yum.

- The mines inspectors Mark introduced himself to. They'd just finished agreeing with eachother that no one ever came out near these mines, being on private property and in the middle of nowhere and all... when next thing they know around 25 people walk past!! And by the time Mark caught up with us to say that he'd promised them we were the only ones who came and we never did anything silly, there we were all standing round peering into a completely unguarded unfenced mineshaft!

that's all for now...

Dessert

For those wanting something to drool over, this is Cleo's lovely choc mousse that I made:



yummo.

Desperately seeking Desert

Hello!
Well the title really is meant to say desert, not dessert, so I'm sorry if you were hoping for a tale of an exciting mudcake experience or something of that sort! If so I'm sure I'll be able to comply sometime in the near future, as the seeking (and/or making) of sweet things is a fairly frequent occurrence for me. Just not this time.

I went on a "Desert Trek" last week. Basically a whole bunch of people went camping out near Broken Hill.

Some of us rose before dawn to watch the day come awake.

Many hours were spent around the campfire sitting, singing, cooking, eating, praying, laughing, sharing and listening to stories - or just watching the glowing, sparking embers.

We spent time alone, time just to listen and to be.


We spent time walking, adventuring, climbing rocky hills and ridges, chasing goats, climbing through gorges and round water-carved pools. Hanging with good friends.

I lapped up the wide wide desert skies, soaked myself in the golden wintery sun and the potent campfire heat, and felt the spirit breathing life.

It was very very good.

Sometimes the night was beautiful
sometimes the sky seemed so far away
sometimes it seemed to stoop so close
you could touch it but your heart would break
sometimes the morning came too soon
sometimes the day could be so hard
there was so much left to do
but so much you've already done oh God...
- Rich Mullins

Thanks for chance to step out of it all and bite beautiful reality.

Jesus' Mad Tea Party

If the world is sane, then Jesus is mad as a hatter and the Last Supper is the Mad Tea Party.

The world says, Mind your own business, and Jesus says, There is no such thing as your own business.
The world says, Follow the wisest course and be a success, and Jesus says, Follow me and be crucified.
The world says, Drive carefully - the life you save may be your own - and Jesus says, whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.
The world says, Law and order, and Jesus says, Love.
The world says, Get, and Jesus says, Give.

In terms of the world's sanity, Jesus is crazy as a coot, and anybody who thinks he can follow him without being a little crazy too is labouring less under the cross than under a delusion. "We are fools for Christ's sake," Paul says, faith says - the faith that ultimately the foolishness of God is wiser than the wisdom of men, the lunacy of Jesus saner than the grim sanity of the world.

- Frederick Buechner

I think I need to get a little crazier.

Funny and/or incomprehensible journal article titles!

• Long-Wave Sensitivity in Deep-Sea Stomiid Dragonfish with Far-Red Bioluminescence: Evidence for a Dietary Origin of the Chlorophyll-Derived Retinal Photosensitizer of Malacosteus niger

• Modeling Underwater Visual and Filter Feeding by Planktivorous Shearwaters in Unusual Sea Conditions

• Labile Nature of the Visual Recovery Promoted by Reverse Occlusion in Monocularly Deprived Kittens

• Increased Sensitivity after Repeated Stimulation of Residual Spatial Channels in Blindsight

• A Private Ultraviolet Channel in Visual Communication

• Further Evidence That Whorfian Effects Are Stronger in the Right Visual Field than the Left

• Visual Latencies in Cytochrome Oxidase Bands of Macaque Area V2
  

• Visual and Semiochemical Disruption of Host Finding in the Southern Pine Beetle
  

• Perceiving Conductors' Expressive Gestures from Different Visual Perspectives. An Exploratory Continuous Response Study

• Oculoparalytic Illusion: Visual-Field Dependent Spatial Mislocalizations by Humans Partially Paralyzed with Curare

• Visual Performance in Behaving Cats After Prenatal Unilateral Enucleation

*These are all totally legit scientific articles

from another.

Te Solte La Rienda - Jimenez Jose Alfredo

Se me acabo la fuerza
de mi mano izquierda
voy a dejarte el mundo
para ti solita.

Como al caballo blanco
le solte la rienda
a ti tambien te suelto
y te me vas ahorita.

Y cuando al fin comprendas
que el amor bonito
lo tenias conmigo.

Vas a extrañar mis besos
en los propios brazos
del que este contigo.

Vas a sentir que lloras
sin poder siquiera
derramar tu llanto
y has de querer mirarte
en mis ojos tristes
que quisiste tanto,
que quisiste tanto,
que quisiste tanto.

Cuando se quiere a fuerza
rebasar la meta
y se abandona todo
lo que se ha tenido.

Como tu traes el alma
con la rienda suelta
a ti tambien te suelto
y te me vas ahorita.

Y cuando al fin comprendas
que el amor bonito
lo tenias conmigo.

Vas a extrañar mis besos
en los propios brazos
de el que este contigo.

Vas a sentir que lloras
sin poder siquiera
derramar tu llanto
y has de querer mirarte
en mis ojos tristes
que quisiste tanto,
que quisiste tanto,
y que quieres tanto.

Se me acabo la fuerza
y te solte la rienda.

Magic Mushrooms

I found mushrooms yesterday!
I was walking home, and there was a little silky-smooth pale one on the roadside, which I collected. Then, after being inches from kissing three different spiders (which happened to be on webs at face-level), I found a few more in our local abandoned oval:


I feel like Alice in Wonderland..


Some people I told were less than enthusiastic about my find:
"You're gonna diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Do you think they'll kill me?

But they smell so gooood.

Undaunted, I set about preparing them..

YUM.

I am tempted to philosophise about the wonder of mushrooms springing up suprisedly, such rapid unlooked-for gemmy little beings.. but I'll restrain myself.

I love you.


ps 24hrs on, I'm still alive and kicking :)

pps sorry there was no exciting halucinatory story! I should have made one up. hmm but I don't think I can be bothered to rewrite. You'll just have to imagine one.

A Kite is a Victim

A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool;
because it lives
like a desperate trained falcon
in the high sweet air
and you can always haul it down
to tame it in your drawer.

A kite is a fish you have already caught
in a pool where no fish come,
so you play him carefully and long,
and hope he won't give up,
or the wind die down.

A kite is the last poem you've written,
so you give it to the wind,
but you don't let it go
until someone finds you
something else to do.

A kite is a contract of glory
that must be made with the sun,
so you make friends with the field
the river and the wind,
then you pray the whole cold night before,
under the travelling cordless moon,
to make you worthy and lyric and pure.

-Leonard Cohen

Interesting People Part 2

Ela from El Refugio
This lady is German born but has lived in Mexico for the past 25 years. She was travelling in Belize where she met her husband (from North Mexico). They continued travelling through Guatemala (some crazy hitch-hiking stories!) and then settled back in southern Mexico. Through their married life they have seen the powers of good and evil in the world at work in so many ways. Many many people have come to them for all sorts of help.
For the last 15 years they have been living in a gorgeous wooden house in the mountains. They have several grown-up children of their own, as well as two little adopted ones who were abandoned. Ela runs a little clinic and has a birthing house which women come to (both locals, and friends from the city) give birth with her. They have a community of people living in houses nearby who have come to the mountains to seek freedom from addictions, and answers to their questions. Ela and her family are highly regarded, and people seem to come from far & wide to speak with her.

Albert was a quirky, laidback, stick-thin Italian dude who had come over to Mexico a bunch of years ago and never returned to his home country. He met a girl in Mexico City and they ended up marrying, coming out and settling on a little patch of land near where Ela lives in the mountains of Oaxaca. They're just on the edge of a tiny village called San Mateo. They built their own little wooden house with the help of friends, on a hill with an amazing view through the valleys. They have two cows, whose milk they sell to support themselves (fresh cow milk seems to be pretty rare in Mexico), a skinny horse, a donkey, a cat who is friends with the donkey, and a tiny pixie of a girlchild.

El Chingiringi
This guy was a real character. I met him at El Refugio. He had taken a nasty cocktail of drugs & alcohol before arriving and was still recovering. He was totally loopy, but cheery and goodnatured most of the time (unless he was begging Jose for "un chingiringi" - a shot of mescal. This gave him his nickname). The day after arriving the guys already had some funny stories to report of him. Apparently he commented on the family's black labrador, saying "I've never seen a blue dog before!" Later he was found in the cookhouse below, waiting with a stick by a hole in the floor - for a seal to stick its head up!!
After a few days he wandered off again. He found his way to San Jose (5km away) where apparently he got into a spot of trouble and was transported to another town about three times as far away. He walked all the way back to SJ before the crew found him, and had the biggest blister on his foot that I've ever seen. They sat him by the fire and Ela set about mending his wounds. To everyone's merriment, he began telling another guy that he was his king.. then one moment when Ela was distracted, and before anyone else could stop him, he grabbed a burning log straight from the fire and dropped it in a basin of water by him (which was waiting for the kettle). "Para calientar el agua" (heat the water), of course!

Interesting People...

Just a Few of the Interesting People I Met [Part 1]

Diplomat on holiday
On the bus on the way up Volcan Poas in Costa Rica, I met a lady who said she worked as a UN diplomat! Naturally, I said 'wow, how on earth did you get to work for the UN?!' Just in case you are also wondering, I'll tell you. She said she did an arts degree in International Relations (she must have done pretty well), got a job with the Red Cross, then a couple of years ago got this job. Since then she's worked in South Africa and somewhere in Europe, and now for the last year in Colombia! She was still pretty young. Basically what she does in Colombia (and elsewhere) is ironining out conflicts, working with govts and the drug groups and guerrillas, trying to get communication happening and restabilise.
Wow. She also told me that Colombia is very beautiful and well set up for tourism. Go there!! [just avoid the druglords, ok?]

Epic combi-driving dude
In Santa Elena, Costa Rica, I met a Canadian guy who spent 4 or 5 months driving a VW combi all the way around north america! He said that less than 2 weeks into the trip the combi broke down and he and his friend began to doubt they'd make it all the way round.. but then they found an internet site devoted linking to combi lovers-helpers-fixers with combi-drivers-in-trouble. So then whenever they had a problem, they would look up the closest combi-enthusiast in the state, and ask for help. Soo many people went out of their way to rescue them, doing over and above what they ever imagined! They had a fantastic trip. I was so inspired!

Belizean back to his roots
In Belize I was bumping along for a few hours in a practically antique bus from Belize City to the sleepy coastal town of Corozal. The African-looking guy (though with lighter, more honey-coloured skin) I was sitting next to was very polite, helping me get settled on the bus with my stuff, but was determined to not bug me or get in my face (he said later), and so sat staring straight ahead and didn't say a word.
This of course had the effect of making me intensely curious and wanting to talk to him. Finally I started a conversation, and drew out that he'd lived in the US ever since he was a small child, had been educated at uni there and everything, but that it was not his home, and he thought that Belize, and his family's little property in the middle of nowhere was the most wonderful place in the world, and so just a couple of weeks ago he had come back to stay. We continued on talking about what's really of value in life, about the states, Australian culture, and his home, until it finally came in sight and he leapt off the bus and carted his things down the driveway..

Farming in drug country
In a hostel in Oaxaca city I met a young fellow, early twenties, who has been coming over to Mexico in his summers for about five years now! He and an old guy he knows own a patch of land up north in Oaxaca, and have been working it, and trying to get alongside the local community as well. They try not to get directly involved in town politics, but have a few friends among the villagers who they talk to about stuff, and they pass on suggestions to the rest of the community as they see fit. They've done things like taking people all the way to the city when they need it, getting papers signed, legal support, etc. Also trying to encourage different approaches to agriculture, and a greater variety of crops. One thing they're working on at the moment is trying to set up a coffee cooperative. He also had some interesting stories to tell about clashes with those people you _don't_ want to be clashing with...

The Back of the Wind

One Night

Three girls sat talking. One was seeking, she did not know for what, and she did not hold much hope of finding.
One knew for what she was seeking, but had not yet fully found it.
The third knew that what she had sought, she had found, and lived and delighted in the knowing.

Stuff I miss about Mexico

Language - trying to decipher it, picking up different accents, attempting to communicate.
slang - de que lado masca la iguana (that's the side the iguana chews?? or something untranslateable, =the way it's done), la tira (the cops), tira la esquina ( throw a corner =give a break/give me a break?), codo (elbow, =stingy), fresa (strawberry =snobby, upperclass), que onda? (what's up?), padre (cool), no manches! (no stains, I think? =no way!), hijole! (no way, that sucks *can be more vehement depending on context), orale (ok/there you go/wow/sounds great), lana (wool, =money), cuate (fraternal twin, =friend, mate), chile mole pozole (the whole lot/mix), que la cancion (bother, you're/it's such a nuisance)..........
that's all I can remember for the moment!
little street stalls
little shops that all sell the same thing (bikkies, chips, lollies, drinks) but are very handy when you´re thirsty
the way everyone hangs out in the plazas/zocalos/town squares.. especially at night.
mamey (rough brown-skinned fruit which is bright red inside and tastes so rich, smooth, sweet and creamy)
the best papaya
salsa with everything
fresh corn tortillas with everything (especially if they´re handmade)
copious amounts of drinking yogurt
various exciting mexican dishes, like pollo poblano and mole verde and tasty asadas (barbequed meat)
piles of culture - indigenous people in their many different traditional dresses, speaking their many different tongues
piles of ruins dug out of the sand/jungle/desert
people I met, friends I stayed with...
nicknamers and the nicknames (you know who you are!)

So this place, in the mountains...

So this place, in the mountains...

It was called El Refugio, a cluster of wooden buildings on the side of a hill in a breathy, sighingly fragrant forest. A forest of oaks and pines and assorted trailing things. Of birdsong and wildflowers and creepy clouds sneaking through the valleys. Of stars blazing out of the night heavens..

People go there for help of all kinds - physical, mental, spiritual. Some stay a long time. Some just a few weeks. Many come and go. Most do not go away unchanged.

I was lucky enough to spend 10 days there, living with the family at the centre of this community. I spent a lot of time listening, trying to find out how it all worked, hearing stories (as much as I could understand), playing with kids, walking, thinking, washing up... I even went to school a couple of times with little Ester.

I felt like truth and goodness were very much alive there, but also that there was a very real battle for these, which was raging behind the scenes.

I left with much to reflect on.

10 days with a pair of playful niños

This is what it sounds like:

"oye, oye, oye" (listen, listen, listen - or hear me)

"mira, mira, mira" (look, look, look)

"ven, ven, ven" (come, come, come)

"ten, ten, ten" (take, take, take)

Me (or other adults present):

"dame tu mano" (give me your hand)

"esperate" (wait - or 'you wait')

"come" (eat)

"Que estas haciendo??!!" (what are you doing?!)

etc.

I had a lot of fun playing with them. It wasn't always easy, as these two little cherubs were rather competitive and didn't always get on so well, and the 5yrold was quick to tears, but it was fun.

We played crazy animals on the 'brincoline' (trampoline), and hide and seek, and cop & robber type games and shooting games and memory games and goodness knows what else!

I got a lot of practice with the imperative tense :)

Querido Hugo

Another love-themed post, I'm afraid!

A few days ago I was hanging with a bunch of 14yrold girls. We took turns singing songs in our various languages, teaching eachother the spanish-english-Zapotec names for things, talking about Australia.

Then they got me to write a love letter for them in English. It was dictated in Spanish, or course, so I did my best to translate it as they went along. I wish I could remember it all, because it was a real gem, partly beautiful, partly just over-the-top-hilarious.

Of course once it was done they were all madly threatening eachother about writing the name of one of the other girls' crushes at the top. I don't know who ended up with it, but Hugo was one of the options.

Dear Hugo,

I write to you, in English for the first time, to tell you how much I love you. I adore you. I can't stop thinking about you. I can't forget you.
You are my moon. You shine like the stars. I exist only to think of you.
You were born for me, I was born for you. We were made to be together. You are for me, for all of my life..
When we are together, it will be for the whole of our lives.
I love you.
Sincerely,
___________

Amor a Primera Vista (love at first sight)

I love San Cristobal de Las Casas. It is the loveliest little colonial town ever, set up in the mountains of Chiapas state. It´s so colourful and full of life.

I want to tell you about this guy I met this morning...

I went into the church in the main plaza, and sat down at the back to enjoy the peace and quiet. Next second, this mild-looking, middle-aged guy with a folder and newspaper comes up and asks if I believe in God. I say yes. He said that someone (I didn´t understand who) told him that he had 7 evil spirits in him. Then he started telling me how he see things and feels things that other people don´t, that he can tell when people are going to die, and sometimes sees accidents before they happen. He got quite emotional, nearly bursting into tears.
He asked if I wanted to know what age I was going to live to. I said no. He told me anyway. He kept asking if I believed him..I was like ´maybe, I don´t know.´I tried to say that it seemed real for him, that he believed in himself, but I couldn´t quite work out how to say it.

Then he hands me this love song that he said he wrote, and showed me a folder full of certificates and stuff to do with music. He made me read his resume - I didn´t catch much of it.

Then he asks if I believe in love at first sight.

And I say to myself ´oh crap, here we go again...´
On he went.. I ended up saying that I had a boyfriend, I couldn´t tell him who I was or where I lived, and that I had to go. Times like these I wish I´d just looked blank and said ´no hablo español´or ´no entiendo´at the start!

Anyway, I turned my back on his ever more miserable and desperate face and off I went, still holding his resume which he wouldn´t take back. ´If your boyfriend ever leaves you...´

Funny. Didn´t expect that in a church.

Breezy Belize

Didn´t spend much time at all in Belize, but it was totally fascinating. Felt like afro-america crossed with latin crossed with coast crossed with western civilisation 40yrs ago...

They speak 3 languages: English, their own Creole, and Spanish. And there are people from all over - including Chinese who run millions of little supermarkets and restaurants, and Guatemalans from over the border, and apparently Arabs too.

Made me want to go to Africa.

Epic Bike Ride

I had such a fun week in Costa Rica. Met cool people, went rafting and hiking and all sorts of fun things.. but I am just going to tell one story:

The Epic Bike Ride.

So we were in a little town called La Fortuna, just near Volcano Arenal - which is alive (CR is a scary place, it´s stuffed full of fire-breathing mountains!).
I and the 4 friends I was travelling with at the time were a bit tired of all the overpriced tours and so decided to explore Arenal our own way.
The problem with Arenal is that there isn´t really any transport around the place (apart from the aforementioned tours). After many extended debates of what to do, where to go and how to do it, we hired bikes, packed sandwiches, loaded up with several gallons of water, and took off for the rest of the day.
We´d asked the bike guys´advice, and he´d suggested going to a waterfall nearby. You had to pay to get in, though, and it wasn´t near the volcano. We asked how long it would take to ride around the outskirts of the mountain, to the lake.
"It´s a long way," he says, looking us up and down. "But you´re young and strong-looking" (I think he was mostly looking at the two 6-foot-something Swedes when he said this) "so I reckon you could manage it."
We set off.
Going up the first hill, I started to wonder if maybe this wasn´t going to be the pleasant day on the bike I´d visualised. Then there was another hill, and another, then a little down, then more up. And up. And up we went... we discovered all the quirks of our various bikes´gear systems (there were many). As the afternoon wore on, the hills seemed ever steeper. The pauses to admire the view grew longer. The waterbottles grew ever lighter. The sweat dripped ever quicker (yeah, still haven´t gotten the stains out of my shirt :P)..
Finally, all of a sudden, we had made it to the hot springs. These were not just any hot springs. These were not the builtup commercialised prettified super-expensified hot springs. No, for these, we had inside information. We ducked off the road right opposite the Tabacon Resort-thingy, under the bridge, and there it was. The loveliest little stream you ever saw, surrounded by forest, with little waterfalls, totally natural, and steaming hot!
We relaxed our aching muscles there for quite a while..
Then off again, circling round the volcano (which had its head in a cloud most of the time), to the lake. A couple of hours of solid biking, an hour or so of relaxing, and we had made it!!

We sipped coconuts from a stall there, took it all in, and discussed whether to venture the long road back. Would we make it by nightfall? We had no lights on our bikes, and there wasn´t any streetlights in the country..
We decided to give it our best shot.
We didn´t ride back, I think most of the time we flew. So much more downhill than we´d expected: Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

And we sailed into La Fortuna, triumphant, just as the light faded from the sky.

I think the roundtrip was about 30km. Such. A good day.

Sonriendo en San Jose

I didn´t expect San Jose to be pretty. It´s a capital city, it´s not meant to be particularly pretty or feel at all safe or seem at all relaxed.. but it was.
Some things that made me smile, wandering around after my arrival this afternoon:

The families and lovers out in the plazas, chilling out while the pigeons milled around - enjoying Jan 1st, I think.

A guy calling out to me from the other side of the street:
¨Hello!
I like your hair.
I like your smile.
I like your walk¨(then I think he ran out of english. It doesn´t usually amuse me much to be harrassed by guys, but I think being across the road helped, and it was sort of amusing.. I didn´t enjoy the very drunk, over-sized young guy who was in my face when I was trying to buy a snack from a street-side stall.)

A little shop. A large, white rabbit, sitting in the middle of the floor. Very large. Very white. Just sitting.

Two dogs playing in and around the animals & people of an outdoor nativity setting.

The little local pub/eating house where I and a german couple and a lady from Minnesota had dinner. The whole place was covered in pictures, flags, labels, lights, and a little Christmas tree. A couple of friendly locals too.

Feliz Año Nuevo everyone!

30 Horas en Buenos Aires

So I spent thirty hours in BA. It felt like a lot longer. I caught the public bus from the airport into town (2 hours, 2 pesos- about 50 cents) and back again the next day (why oh why couldn´t I get a connecting flight??!!)
But it was fun.

Some fun things:

Trying to communicate with Brasilians who barely spoke english or spanish (and I don´t speak portugese!). They were awesome though, I met them at the hostel and a swedish girl and I came out with them on Wed night. We looked for tango, but found no shows we could afford, so we drank some beer instead, in a sweet tree-encircled plaza in San Telmo with a whole pile of Buenos Aire-eans (otherwise known as Porteños) who were also enjoying the balmy evening. Ah, San Telmo, land of gorgeous smelly cobbled streets and semi-restored churches!
You should have seen us on the bus - there was a big mis-communication about where we wanted to be dropped off. I don´t exactly know how or why, but by the time we got off, the whole bus was laughing and waving us goodbye!

The next day I went to the main ´Catedral´and then came back for mass. There was a little old man sitting infront of me in a broad-shouldered soft black jacket. He kept nodding off, drooping lower and lower to the bag beside him, then jerking back, then lower and lower once more..

There were bits of paper everywhere. Scrap paper, torn into about A5 or A6 bits, and showered like confetti from the balconies - mostly on Wednesday, but some on New Year´s Eve as well.

And lastly, I did spend the end of New Year´s Eve in the air, but the bonuses were chatting with a friendly, portly old Argentinian who told me all about how arrogant Porteños are, among other things - and seeing the cities beneath us sparkle with fireworks. Nests of tiny golden eggs, with what seemed like giant sparklers going off all through them..