Just thoughts

In the enchanted forest...

2007-08-28T16:32:00.000-06:00

... come and walk with me
come and get lost with me in the deeps of the forest
of my lips and hands.
Come, my friend...
leave the doubts behind
and travel with me
in the eternity of a second
of kisses and caresses

Empty spaces...

2007-08-28T16:30:00.001-06:00

She could not stop her eyes to get lost, hungry, in that scene. A couple was in that crowded bus stop, showing her love unashamedly. She knew this scene is a common thing in our country but her sensibility and the solitude had maximized her need of being loved, needed, and evoked.

It was a fleeting scene but it made her to make a serious decision: No more sensibility! But she knew very well that it was easier to say it than to do it. Where would she find the strength not to follow her heart when she got so excited talking to any boy? Could she be able to repress those hopes that arose when a guy smiled to her or when a guy offered her a flower that was no more than a sympathy gesture?

She was aware of how much her life resembled the stories she read in those useless novels. How could she stop being a dependent person?

Her thoughts made her to miss her usual stop and she realized she was lost. Her daily journey was a mechanical, learned routine. She hadn't gone beyond the stop in front of the gray building, without windows, where their office was situated. So, that mistake made her lose the little emotional stability she still possessed. Part of that stability and the fictitious security she showed every day was based on the knowledge of "her turf". Now she didn't know how to behave. Her mask was falling. It was already very late and it seemed that everybody was late for work that day. Damn the Guatemalan time…!

Guatemalan time was not a part of her life. Her life was perfect, meticulous, detailed. Knowing that she was very meticulous, she couldn't understand how she could let herself to be lost in her thoughts because of the stupid question of sensibility.

She forced herself to find her way in the tangle of streets and avenues of the city. The idiotic boss would scream at her for the first time and those lovely co-workers would gossip about her behind her back as they did with everybody.

That tangle of avenues and streets, complemented with a flood of ice and masks made her feel even more embarrassed. She didn't want to look up and watch the people who passed by her. Those mirror-lives made her to go even deeper into her emotional torture. Did somebody force her to carry out that stupid, annoying, boring routine?

She knew that there was an abyss at her feet and that it was just a matter of one movement and she could drown herself forever in that emptiness. Wasn't it what she yearned so much? To get lost forever in her intimate and loved anonymity. They maybe would bury her as a Jane Doe and in that way, it would avoid her family to feel ashamed of her existential emptiness.

Even in those circumstances, she could show some of her once-famed brilliant intelligence, always praised by all those that knew her. She was remembered with pain and pity. - Poor girl - they used to say - so intelligent when she was a child, we all thought she would go beyond any of us.

Where was the brilliant career they seemed to think she would obtain? Where was the cheerful and industrious girl? I believe they should better wonder how many people she blamed of her stupidity and bad decisions.

Oh, how much I would want to raise my eyes and find an echo of my feelings in other eyes. Every step was painful and heavy. It weighed as the whole world, words were heavy, those sweet, emotional sentences I heard once, which were no more than mere jokes. Everything was heavy. She felt her entire body hurt.

- Do you have the courage to do it? -the inner demon asked her to feed her anguish. It is only a small step and everything will end.

She closed her eyes and remembered him, his aroma, his smile, his caressing voice, his words, his vain promises written in sand. She wished with all her heart to see him in front of her when she opened her eyes but she knew she would find just her desert again.

When she finally opened her eyes, she was in front of her building. The show must go on and she had to keep pretending everything's was fine, because that's the acceptable thing in this empty and hypocrite society. To pretend that social ostracism when you don't fit in the rules doesn't matter. To pretend that life is okay just for having food, a roof, and clothes. Many will say that there are too much people in this world suffering from hunger and that is not good to be "selfish" and think just about emotional needs. Those are not true problems! You don't have to bother God with banalities!

She opened the door and with her best serious expression entered the office and began the routine of filling envelopes and more envelopes and, in this way, make her small contribution to the culture of consumption called economic development. She had to leave the emotional turbulences that consumed her behind because she couldn't afford risking losing her job.

The boring routine began again…

The last rose...

2007-08-28T16:29:00.001-06:00

It was the last rose and everybody knew it.

Dozens of hungry eyes were fixed in that beautiful flower that was equal to an "I love you" or an "I like you". Your eyes were fixed on it too. You, a girl who always insinuated you didn't care about those things, about those flashy things. That day, however, something inside you had changed and your eyes proclaimed it in all directions. Would have you been contaminated with the false feeling of Valentine's? No, I couldn't believe it.

And there I was, in front of the teacher in charge of the roses, who smiled peacefully, expecting my request. We knew that man was already fed up with the mush and vulgarity of that day. Valentine's? Ha! It was just the artificiality that covered the daily scorn along the corridors.

My mind tried to decide what I should do next. I could feel your eyes fixed on my back. I knew you were expecting that rose, as a confirmation of all what we had lived until that moment: hints, stupid jokes, useless pretexts.

… but you knew as good as I did that it could not be. I, the most popular guy in the school, would not risk my reputation to satisfy the incipient love of a nerd like you. You had fulfilled your part; your help was invaluable to win those courses I hated so much. I knew I could not never fulfill my part.

Then, the guy in Cupid's costume started to walk toward your place; and while your cheeks showed your confusion and edginess and you tried to ignore it, your best friend was surprised when receiving the last rose which came to complete her perfect bouquet of passions…

A mysterious shoe...

2007-08-28T16:27:00.002-06:00

The shoe was there, on the main street of that poor town hidden in the mountain. The strange shoe attracted and repelled every person that came close to it. Nobody could assure if it was a man or woman's shoe. Its thick heel could be taken as a sign of a man wearing it, but the soft curve of the sides screamed: woman, woman, without a doubt!

So, from the first moment, each one of the inhabitants of town came closer to examine that weird object. The reason they gave was that they wanted to make sure it didn't belong to them (they already knew that) but the reality was very different, it was imperative to discover who had left the shoe in the road.

That was not a joke, it was a serious matter because the gathered information would be used to complete (and to increase) the gossip about it around town.

One could notice that even in that distant town there were people specialized in solving these matters, anything better than a gossiper to solve a mystery of that type, because they dug even in the other's garbage to find the "truth". However, the problem now was that they declared themselves incapable to solve the mystery.

Oh my Goodness! Nosy people declaring themselves incapable to discover who the owner’s shoe was a sign the people of the town hoped never receive. It was a sign of the end of times.

However, a smart child suggested a new hypothesis, which was much worse for many people. What if the owner of the shoe was an infiltrated? The town had accomplished a certain level of self-sufficiency and the contact with the neighboring towns was very rare. The so-called highway was not good to travel comfortably. It had been opened a long time ago, so long ago that every witness to that impressive incident had made his last trip… to the cemetery behind the church.

Therefore, everybody hated traveling because the famous highway had started to fall in pieces three months after the opening and the grass began to grow freely among the pieces. They decided then to use the rural trails instead of wasting their time repairing the road.

The town had become so isolated that, if it was not easy to leave, it was almost impossible to get there. A popular statement in the town affirmed that someone new arrived every time a donkey died, meaning with this that it never happened. That's why they got scared when they heard the new theory about the fool object.

They summoned everybody to a general meeting to decide what they would do about the shoe. It was not that they hated strangers, they just didn't like the idea of people getting to the town and settled down among them without they noticed it… they were a democracy, damn it! … But democracy has its rules.

After an exhaustive meeting, they opted for a technique they called “Cinderella": Everybody in town will try the shoe. Every inhabitant was going to be summoned for such event, and they will try the shoe in each foot because the shoe was strange enough not to show which foot would fit… and, in that way, to finally solve the mystery.

Everybody came to the meeting because they wanted to prove their innocence. The peace they used to enjoy was long gone, they had started to distrust their neighbors as well, and that was insufferable.

When the last inhabitant tried the shoe and it was proved it wasn't his, a sepulchral silence invaded the place. It was then when they heard somebody cracking with laughter.

The local baker was laughing and laughing, in such a way that the people close to him got scared because they thought he was suffering a heart attack. But it wasn't the case and, finally, he calmed down and was able to explain the reason of his laughter.

He then told a story about him starting to make shoes; he was learning to do so little by little, as a hobby. That was a way for him to have fun and got him out of the routine. One day, he created a very weird shoe, the one giving everybody such a hard time.

One day, he decided to visit a friend and he took the shoe with him in order to show it to his friend but he dropped the shoe without him noticing it. When he was looking for it, he realized it was too late; somebody else had found it and started the problem.

The whole town then, demanded him why he didn't say something from the beginning. The man answered a smile in his face, that he was curious about how far they would push that simple matter. His experiment showed him the whole town went crazy about a tiny incident.

Having said that, everybody calmed down and, kind of ashamed went back to his normal life, not without whispering among them about the big disappointment they suffered when discovered that the so-called mystery was no more than a bad taste joke. A joke made without thinking, but a joke after all.

The baker was even more shocked whey he knew the people longed for the shoe mystery and that they had included a special prayer in the daily ones: Send us another shoe, Lord..

About utopias...

2007-08-28T16:27:00.001-06:00

Suddenly as it had started, she knew her visit to that wonderful world had concluded.

During several days she had been flying. Yes, she had flown in the wings of dreams caused by illusions, fantasies, and beautiful words. She had left her desert of years to dive in a torrent of emotions, each one more intense that the previous one. However, she didn't think about the consequences, she didn't give a thought to the tranquility she had gotten with so much effort. She knew it was not happiness, but tranquility.

After wandering for a long time, she had arrived to that part of the desert where the solitudes were shared, where she built a small cabin and dedicated herself to make beautiful art pieces and to exhibit them along the road, as many others that lived in that place. She, then, told herself that it was the best thing that it could've happened to her.
Not even now she could explain how she let herself to be fooled by those words that seem carved in stone but were just mere words traced in the sands of the desert. Words that a storm of reality made disappear in an instant. An illusion!

Therefore, she went back to her cabin dreaming that she stopped dreaming about utopias and ghosts…

One less poem...

2007-08-28T16:26:00.001-06:00

Nothing has changed
and everything is different though
you in your solitude
I in your company
both with souls full
both with empty hands.

The caresses have vanished
they have become nostalgias
but fondness follows our steps
wanting to show us a paradise,
the one one day we left without a word

Infatuation...

2007-08-28T16:25:00.001-06:00

- If your teeth are stained… use WHITE EASY, a product that will remove the ugly stains you hate so much - I could hear the TV rumbling in the distance, thousands of methods for losing weight and cleaning teeth, creams that removed skin imperfections at once… or that ad on depilation without pain… an entire art of the "advertisement."

I could not stop thinking about that cult to the beauty that corrupted the society, an empty society. At some point I wanted to invoke the soul of the great Quevedo, longing for comforting, I wished to bring him back to life or, at least, to obtain a portion of his crudeness and his pungent satire.

My imagination was wild that night. It jumped from dream to dream as a deer looking for grass to eat. Even my famous "technique" of studying with the TV on failed because of my edginess.

My desire for a change had wakened up at the sound of your voice. And it brought with it a thirst for money…. Money was what I needed in that moment. I needed to buy all those things advertised in television and by using; them get to live up to your expectations! But my conscience was already killing me because I was compromising my fundamental beliefs.

It had not been hard to leave behind those ideas with the only hope to get the desired change and win your attention. So, I went to that famous spa, attracted by the promise of a painless change. I was immediately surrounded by all those women dressed with neat doctor robes, pointing at me and already making plans for the many changes I needed.

- Miss, we must begin with a deep facial treatment in order to recover your face original texture and we can complement that with a relaxing massage. Let's see… then, a complete depilation is needed. After that, we can start working with your hair. You need a complete treatment for it. Oh, and don't forget you must get a manicure and pedicure -

What I was doing there, I, a woman who despised the tortures of beauty parlors? It was a very persuasive situation. I didn't object to anything. I consented to each one of those tortures. And for four hours I was massaged, squeezed, tormented and robbed, at least it felt like I was being robbed. It was not a problem, since "daddy's card" paid for everything; well, my dad was more than thrilled when I asked him to pay for that spa-day. He thought that I already changed and that his feminist daughter just recovered her senses. .

I left that place, transformed, squeeze, wrinkled and in pain. Now I could go to you with my head up! My make-up covered the minimum imperfection, even the acne marks. The next step was to renovate my wardrobe… I even imagined myself in one of those TV shows about image makeover. Suddenly, I woke up and realized that it was just a dream and I thank God for that!

A little more about me... (Part II)

2007-08-28T16:23:00.002-06:00

My dear friend Duffman has invited me to participate in The Game... so, accepting his kind invitation, I'll try my best once more.

1. The first “formal" book I read in my childhood was Madame Bovary

2. My family and friends call me a "nickname" that, in fact, is kind of my third name (non-official). I love it because it makes me remember my grandfather.

3. I was very competitive and because of it, when I was in 6th grade I won a poetry contest. The weird part of the story? The winner of the contest had to write a poem for the school's "queen".

4. I have no knowledge of music…. I am a complete illiterate when it comes to musicians, singers, and music styles

5. Chinese food is my favorite… (Why would it be?)

6. I am impatient and punctual

7. I like to prepare desserts… although it's been a while since I cooked my last cake

8. I was a teacher… but being impatient and punctual made me to give it up… ;)

Would I be the one...

2007-08-28T16:23:00.001-06:00

... who attracts the bad luck?

What do I mean by this? I'm talking about the bad luck that accompanies me whenever I go to the movies, and which I had to enjoy once more last Saturday.

Some friends and I went to the movies on Saturday. We bought our tickets and popcorn and we found ourselves a seat half hour before the movie started because we had nothing else to do... ;) So far, everything went very well. We wanted seats in the high part of the room, in the second row.

Exactly halfway the movie, two couples entered the room, four teenagers; and that was the beginning of our nightmare. They went and sit right behind us. You could tell they had a few drinks before. What else can I tell you? They talked and talked, they stood up, they sit down, and they were even pushing one of my friends back.

We wanted to move to another place but the room was full, so we had to just sit and hold tight. Many of other people seated in our row and ourselves asked them several times to be quiet and their answer was... to make more noise!

They stayed for about half hour and then they left. When we discussed that incident later, we got to the conclusion that the little monsters just wanted some dark place to make out and maybe something more. How lucky are some people having so much money to waste it so easily!

Something similar had happened to me before and I was almost decided not to return to a movie theater but... I wanted really bad to see this movie in the big screen.

A little more about me...

2007-08-28T16:22:00.000-06:00

Oana has invited me to share eight things about myself… ;) how a difficult task! Let's begin then

1. I'm shy. It terrifies me to take the first step to speak to people I just met.

2. I love genealogy and I've been reading a lot about China since it is part of my family history.

3. I am sometimes too sincere and direct, and I prefer people to be the same way with me.

4. I never judge a book for its cover…. ;)

5. And speaking of books, reading is one of my passions.

6. I write my poems and short stories when I am very sad, very cheerful or very angry… ;)

7. My house is kind of a zoo… ;) We have a dog, three cats, three parrots, hens, ducks, and turkeys… hehehe

8. I fell in love with this blogger world! ;) (Too obvious, isn't it)

Memories

2007-08-28T16:21:00.000-06:00

I can’t explain why I feel so nostalgic today, why there is a different sensibility inside of me. Is it because there are people and moments that come back to your mind when you’re not expecting it? That seems to be the situation today.

I remembered the time when I worked as a supervisor during the last National Census. In order to get the job I had to attend a training course and to pass a test. The majority of people knew each other and it was kind of an adventure. For the same reason, my co-workers knew my background and my lack of experience on working in the countryside. It was then a big surprise when I qualified as a supervisor and when the different areas were assigned I got the bigger one and the hardest one according to the rumors. However, I was blessed and had the chance to work with three wonderful people that complete the job perfectly.

I had many images from those days. I specially remember the peaceful and tranquility of the villages and the kindness of its people.

Sometimes I wondered what I was doing on those solitary places but I always ended captivated by the landscapes, the flowers and a soft breeze.

One day, one of my partners and I got lost because the drawing we had of the area was wrong. So, we wander and wander until we heard music and thankfully, we found a house half hidden in the bushes. We realized that it was one of the first houses of a village that we were supposed to visit the next days, but it didn’t matter and we did our job.

Every person in those villages was wonderful and cooperative. They invited us to their houses, they even wanted to share their meals with us and they always had a story to share with us.

There was this lady who was so happy with our visit because she didn’t get many visitors and she liked to talk. Before we leave, she offered us mangoes and bananas and her house was one of the humblest.

How different was the story my co-workers who stayed in the town told us. People shut the door in their faces, they didn’t want to talk, and people were really mean.

What at the beginning seemed to be a curse, ended up being a blessing. Working in the villages was a wonderful experience; it allowed me to get out of my “bubble” and taught me that we find happiness in the simple things.

Extreme thought...

2007-08-28T16:20:00.000-06:00

"It is better to be hated for what you are

than to be loved for what you are not”

Reasonable or not...

2007-08-28T16:19:00.000-06:00

The reason of my trip was to participate as a volunteer in a medical clinic that took place in an isolated village in one of Guatemala’s departments. It is an exhausting work but very gratifying and it has helped me to come down to earth.

Many others would consider that these activities are barely a temporary relief to the hard situation of people who live in extreme poverty. However, there are people who, without this “temporary” relief that come to their village from time to time, would never have access to the medicine they need. Many times they just need a painkiller but their gratitude is overwhelming.

And how could I describe the satisfaction you feel when you have located those eyeglasses that are perfect for the old lady who longs to be able to read again or to sew again.
However, there is a sad part of the story. There are many times when you find people who need more than just a pill, people in need of surgery, people who maybe won’t get it because they have no money even to travel to the hospital, or who are so afraid of that big world because they have never been out of their village. The sad part is having a bad public health system.

For this reason is that I insist in despise those politicians who are used to go to these very same places and deceive the poor people with trinkets and promises in order to get their vote and obtain power, but once there, they forget about all the humble people

I'm back...

2007-08-28T16:18:00.002-06:00

Many simple details pass by unnoticed. Those are small things that, in certain way, we should know or be aware of. Moreover, many times we don't appreciate them in their fair dimension until their absence announces it to us with drums. To say it in a simpler way: "you don't know what you have until you lose it."

Although my short trip was not for pleasure, I did consider it as an opportunity to experience new things and to relax away of the routine. As my good friend Goathemala reminded me, the pencil and the camera were the first things that I tossed in the suitcase.

The night before leaving I thought of download some pictures that I had taken in the previous days, however I decided not to make it since I was very tired. This way, the pictures of the later days mixed with those that I already had. One night, I decided to get through the pictures and erase some. I can't describe how shocked I was the next day when the memory card was totally empty. All my pictures disappeared in an instant without I noticed it; a mistake in pressing the wrong button and all those beautiful images vanished.

In that instant, in spite of the sadness that I felt, I realized the fragility of the things and of life, and I began to think and to wonder if in fact I had enjoyed each moment that those pictures captured fully.

As you probably already noticed, since I began with this photography thing, I leaned more toward the nature and some "abstract" pictures. I wondered then if I had stopped to contemplate and "to savor" the beauty of this or that flower, or that tree and its particularities.

The answer to those questions was a firm NO.

We sometimes get lost in the general vision, we leave aside the small but important details, details that remind us how beautiful it is life, and I made myself the promise of making my best effort to live fully each moment.

So, friends, I didn't bring with me many pictures but I did bring new strength and a new vision to continue my road

Innocence or...

2007-08-28T16:18:00.001-06:00

I believe that in some of my other posts I talked about the distrust that reigns among Guatemalans nowadays. Those using the public transportation won't let me lie about the tension that makes us see a potential thief in each person. However, among so much distrust, I witnessed a scene, an interesting one because its innocence or extreme trust, depending on you judge it.

Yesterday I had to go to INCAN (Institute of Cancer). Many people visit this place every day. Its main room is always full. While I was waiting for someone, I decided to read the newspaper. I had already seen a person along the corridors selling newspapers but when I wanted to buy one, I couldn't found him. In that moment I noticed that there were several piles of newspapers in the floor near the information area with a sign on the wall above them, it was a list of prices of the different newspapers on sale, and a message saying this, more or less:

"If you want to buy a Newspaper, please leave the money in the box"

There was nobody watching over these newspapers because the people in the information area stay in movement, guiding, and answering the questions of the patients; other workers came and went; the patients were worried by their problems; etc.

I should say then, that I was astonished because during the two hours that I stayed there, all the people that bought their newspaper left the money religiously in the box mentioned in the sign.

Does this happen every day? Are the newspapers and the money respected everyday? On the other hand, was it simply an unusual and fleeting moment that I witnessed?

Say NO to violence...

2007-08-28T16:17:00.000-06:00

I was listening this morning to the sounds of the town's band and, as our official fair is close, I assumed that it was some parade related with that.

It was a surprise then when I saw a parade celebrating the International Day of Non Violence against Women, a parade with no more than twenty people. Sadly, this type of manifestations doesn't attract the interest of people in the countryside. There was no a general invitation to participate, at least not here. Those participating in the parade didn't carry any message about the topic, only a T-shirt with some logo, unrecognizable at the distance. You could tell that the people marching there were government employees that were "summoned" to participate in this event.

Women should be in first line when demonstrating against the gender violence that is affecting our country greatly. Of course, I don't mean that a simple parade will have an immediate effect but we have to start with something and make our voice listened.
This is a problem for all women. To this day, I have not found a single woman that has not suffered of some type of violence.

One question...

2007-08-28T16:15:00.000-06:00

Who would be, nowadays, the savages

mentioned by Aldous Huxley in his book Brave New World?

Bread and circus...

2007-08-28T16:14:00.000-06:00

All what the Roman emperors needed to maintain the populace happy was bread and circus. If it was necessary to calm down the masses, they just needed to organize a show and provided the people with more food and it was done! Everybody happy

And what does it happen nowadays? The Roman emperors' formula is still used. There is not better way to maintain the ignorant mass happy than to provide amusement and free food. Does some candidate want to convince the people of voting for him? Just offer people free stuff and free food.

And now that I remember… wasn't it what happened during our now famous Black Thursday? The promise of a free trip to the city and a free meal were more than enough to convince many people to participate in that day events without questions.

One could think that this phenomenon occurs only among the masses without no formal education, but it is not true. A few years ago, when I was studying in San Carlos University, something happened that is hard to forget. It happened during the election campaign for Head of the University and there was so much political activity around campus. In one occasion, the activists of a candidate came to the faculty to distribute pamphlets with a soda and a ham sandwich. They also had music. Meanwhile, another of the candidates visited each classroom of the faculty to talk about his plans if he was elected. However, the usual thing happened, the people giving ham sandwiches and sodas were busy but the poor guy going from class to class had a hard time getting any attention.

I commented this with a classmate, expressing my displeasure for the strident music and the free sandwiches and sodas, and the lack of attention toward a person that was trying to expose his plans. His answer was (while he ate his free sandwich) that it was useless to listen to a boring speech when they could have fun and have a free meal. The other candidate really knew what the students needed: Bread and circus.

To have a complete effect, you have to add the formula used by the conquerors 500 years ago: to exchange trinkets and mirrors for what is of more value, at that time was gold; in this time, unconditional support for a candidate that doesn't propose any change.

Granny...

2007-08-28T16:13:00.000-06:00

A story is a story. My grandmother used to tell us stories that she, in turn, listened from his father. Other stories, I believed she invent those like the one about "Pedro Ardimales", she gave the character that name, a very well known character in the past. I enjoyed her stories, listening her talking about her memories of her childhood and youth, her games in the neighborhood under the moonlight with her grandma telling them to go to sleep at six in the afternoon, believing it was already midnight.

I don't know when our relationship changed so drastically. Perhaps it happened at the beginning of my turbulent adolescence. Perhaps happened during those cruel sessions when she fought to repress my growing bosoms that seemed to have appeared before the proper time and which won the battle against the cold iron, which sought to constrain the nature. Or maybe it happened when her old-fashioned advice filled with fear my mother's mind, fear of what might happen to her daughter if left alone too much time. Those were hard times, years of internal and external fights until the day came in which the three generations signed a peace treaty.

Despite my liberal education and my education in and out the university, I still enjoy talking with my grandmother. Through her I have discovered both a sad and fascinating world, a world where women's life was not that different of ours. I have discovered a past so attached to us that it seems to be blocking our advance. A story full of wisdom, a suffering wisdom.

How many of those stories are our own, repeating themselves over and over. We want to pretend we have already evolved but we continue making the same mistakes our ancestors made.

Necessary noise

2007-08-28T16:09:00.000-06:00

Has anybody else noticed how the noise in the buses is almost gone? I'm not talking that there is less noise because kids are on vacations because even the chatting and joking among kids are disappearing. Fear has taken completely possession of our lives.

Not so many years ago, as soon as you got into the bus a desire for eavesdropping awakened inside you. There were too many juicy stories being told around you. Today, the only thing you wish is that the bus travels at light speed to get home as soon as possible.

Ah… those stories! … the so-and-so had cheated on his wife and she was about to find out… the boy boasting on having four girlfriends at the same time… people talking about a wonderful sale over that street… we didn't know people but the stories made traveling more tolerable and entertaining… Traveling as canned sardines was better if it was a noisy ride.

Fijese que...

2007-08-28T16:08:00.000-06:00

Two very used words exist for us the Guatemalans that are famous for their hidden meaning… the very famous ones "fíjese que… " . I couldn’t really explain their meaning in English but the literal translation is “notice that…”

We very frequently use these words but it was not until a foreign friend made me think about the way we use them (most of times), that I realized the significance of those words in our country. My friend told me "Every time that a Guatemalan begins a sentence with "fijese que…” I already know what follows is an excuse or a justification.

Many times, we use those words in that way: "fijese que... I could not finish the work because… ", "fijese que... that it will be ready until next week because… ", "fijese que... I won't be able to get there because… "

In conclusion, those words are part of our idiosyncrasy because are so useful nowadays… for good or bad; and who knows if we will end up putting them away with so many others now considered archaic.
And fíjese que... my post finishes here because there was an outage…

Gossip is not good but...

2007-08-28T16:07:00.000-06:00

A few days ago, I heard again a saying that is so Guatemalan: "Gossip is not good but it does entertain."

That little phrase made me think that we link gossip to women, a generalization that makes women look bad. This happens since ancient times.

Ok, I accept it, many women enjoy this very interesting hobby (let's face it: it is interesting) and so harmful at the same time. However, allow me to remind you that there are many groups around the country called "gossip-place" and the members are men only. These men meet regularly at nights. Group members belong to diverse social strata and different age groups. One could think that they have absolutely nothing in common, but it is their love for gossip what unites them.

According to the investigation carried out by the author of this note (undercover, of course), these groups talk about issues that go from the trivial thing like that so-and-so's family live a suspicious quiet life to those of great importance like who is the person behind the anonymous letters that circulate around the neighborhood or the political rumors on public people living close by.

With all this, I don't want to imply that women are free of sin but to prove the fact that men “suffer" of the same illness too.

Will we be able to get rid of this bad habit one day?

Guatemalans and names...

2007-08-28T15:58:00.000-06:00

I have been observing lately a phenomenon that is becoming common in our country and, especially, in the rural area; meaning towns and villages, specifically in the southwest of the country.

Due to work matters, I have had to be in contact with teachers and other people in that area, and the weird tendency of parents in choosing their children names came up during the conversations. Parents use names from foreign languages or they just simply invent them. They don't care about how strange or ridiculous the name might sound.

We already have enough with the deformations of the common names in our country, and this new tendency just makes the new generations to suffer.

Somebody told me a story that seems a joke, but this person swears it's a true story. A father named his son "Usnaví" and when their friends asked him where did he got that name, he answered he'd seen it on TV. The truth was that the proud father had taken the words "U.S. Navy" as a name. I don't know if the story is a real one, everything's possible!!!.

There's another story about a certain child being called "Whitehorse", or another one talking about a girl named "Sweet Breeze of the Sea". I believe everybody knows a similar story.

Every parent is entitled to name his children whichever name he wants. However, we have to remember that we will have to live with our name our entire life (if we don't make the choice to change it) and that our name ends up being part of our personality.

The Spanish names are beautiful, but their deformations are absurd and humiliating sometimes. How can we change a beautiful name as Beatriz in "Tish"? I really don't get it! I was wondering if this phenomenon is related with Guatemalans habit to use diminutives in excess

Just... perfect!

2007-02-04T16:47:00.001-06:00

Beautiful view

2006-11-20T17:07:00.000-06:00

Life and death...

2006-11-20T17:02:00.000-06:00

A local tradition

2006-11-09T13:04:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, my town was filled with a colorful parade which I was surprised to see because it had disappeared a long time ago. "The dance of the canchules"Those are people with costumes of famous (or not) characters, who dance in the streets asking money to the viewers and local businesses. I wanted to take a good picture but it wasn’t possible. However I want to share the best looking one..

A sign in the sky...

2006-11-09T13:00:00.000-06:00

When life seems so hard,

heaven sends a splendid Messenger of hope and peace...

A delicious tradition...

2006-11-09T12:57:00.000-06:00

November 1º is around the corner and with it the time to savor the Fiambre, a Guatemalan dish...We have started to prepare it and many hands have come to help us… but there are not enough hands when we see the mountain of green beans.

Does this "warning" work?

2006-11-09T12:52:00.000-06:00

The message says, “Prohibited to pee here. Fine: Q100.00”
Good try… but I don’t think it works. Pigs are pigs after all. ;)

Distance and closeness....

2006-11-08T11:04:00.000-06:00

Dreams...

2006-11-08T10:54:00.000-06:00

Dreams...
by Fiamma

We are in your bed and your arms hold my waist firmly. I’m safe in that place and I press myself against you. I want to feel the firmness and warmth that your body gives to mine. I know that’s the place where I’ve always wanted to be, the ultimate place to stay.

Suddenly, your right hand caresses my arm looking for my hair. You play with it and the feeling is amazing. Caresses and tender and I’m happy once again. Every day is different with you, every day I discover a small piece of you. And this emotion and our frankness and sincerity make our discussions more pleasant. Between your ideology and mine, we can forge paradises.

My hand looks for your hand and guides it to its primary place, the place where it belongs tonight, this moment. There are no words just whispers, murmurs, sounds, gestures, smiles and caresses. What more than this understanding? What more happiness than this moment yours and mine?

Then, slowly, we start dreaming our dream. I dream you dream about me, that I’m with you and we love freely. I love your freedom, your spirit, your words. Beautiful words of love.

I dream your hands hold my waist, today and tomorrow…

to Eduardo...

foto: http://www.morguefile.com/archive/?display=58801&

Clouds... only?

2006-11-08T10:45:00.000-06:00

Despite all the bad news that fills our Guatemala today… a heaven like this makes our hopes to reborn. Am I so idealist or is just a phase? ;)

Small details...

2006-11-08T10:42:00.000-06:00

Small details give life to the greatest works… a brushstroke in a certain strategic place changes completely the story hidden in a painting...

Old house of tiles

2006-11-08T10:39:00.000-06:00

Life in the countryside is a peaceful haven

compared to the turbulence of the city

The veil

2006-11-08T10:32:00.000-06:00

A soft breeze came into the room and our pores started to wake up without other preamble than the restless hand movement in our skin. That image was an invitation to cross over the veil of material world and color the future with a light touch of candor and innocence....

A charm that ends at midnight

2006-11-07T18:18:00.000-06:00

Charm ends at midnight
by Glenda Reina

Signs: hours, words: hours, meeting: a charm that ended at midnight …

Twelve words describe our friendship or, how I have called it lately, “our midnight charm”. Ours was a fortuitous encounter with jokes and more jokes. A mutual friend was the Cupid and introduced each other through the famous “messenger”, in that anonymous world of internet… the messenger was the accomplice for our meetings. And you showed yourself as the white armor knight and a generous heart that I waited for a long time; broad mind, an insuperable sense of humor, and an irresistible personality.

Then we recognized our voices… our modulation, the accent… every vibration transmitted odors, flavors, sensations, emotions, dreams, hopes, sadness and happiness. ¡We’ve just found our paradise!

Witty phrases and creative jokes were traded… hours and hours talking… half smiles, tender and silent… even the moments of silence gave our friendship that special touch. Our friendship had become in a spiritual necessity, a way to get away from the collective solitude where we were immersed. You were my complement and my strength in my tough moments. You put me at ease in my happy moments. And I know I meant the same to you. We said it so many times.

¡Great story! ¿Don’t you think? I can imagine the whispers and the words…
-¡She found her soul mate! ¡She found the perfect man!

Well, forgive if I interrupt your surprise exclamations… There was no perfect man… there was the fantasy of the perfect man. The one who see beyond the appearance and cares only for our “personality”. ¡Ja!

Do you remember how nervous we were in our “first date”? We have talked only about our likes and dislikes, dreams and disappointments; but we never said a word about how we were physically. That was the motive for our nervousness, how I’m going to recognize her?, how I’m going to recognize him? We felt like we were over that step.

It was such a wonderful moving, spiritual, and intellectual complement… and it was… It was a night full of emotions, complementarity, smiles, and laughs. The final touch, a stream of feelings that surge when were saying goodbye and our mouths found each other.

¡Oh, insincerity! Source of many displeasures and sadness. You showed me a perfect faked feeling. I should’ve noticed when you said that sentence, a weird sentence but the right one to describe the moment: -Let’s not break today’s charm, remember that it ends at midnight. Do not end like this the fairy tales? - ¡Amen! ¡So be it!

Charm ended that day, at midnight.

Internet and research

2006-11-07T18:14:00.000-06:00

Learning through research and investigation is a very important part of the educative process. Because of this, “research” is one of the methods the Guatemalan teachers use in their courses.
However, with the Internet’s arrival to many of towns, this method has become questionable. You also can add to this problem the lack of libraries or recent books in those ones.

It became clear to me that Internet is being used in a wrong way. I worked for a while in a private school where I taught several groups. One group was a junior high school one and I assumed they already had the basic knowledge about researching and writing essays. But with one research assignment they showed me their lack of skills. They simply went to the internet café and requested the research to a worker. The worker did it and printed it. Anybody could see the plagiarism, and when I decided to run a short test about the researched theme, their writing wasn’t even close to the magnificence of the reports they delivered.

I worked in that place for a short time but I still see and hear about the same store. However, I got to the conclusion that many teachers encourage this attitude. Teachers don’t read thoroughly the reports and briefs they receive from the students. Our teenagers don’t take the time to read and interpret the information they get from the internet.

This isn’t a new issue because in the past, the students just copied from the books in the libraries. However, it is a wide issue with many shades and it is important to emphasize the need to encourage our children and teenagers to read, something that we’re hearing a lot these days.

To end this, a short anecdote. One of my students gave me his report… ¡in German! I was speechless because he didn’t even bother to read what the internet café person printed for him.

But you're not here anymore...

2006-11-07T18:13:00.000-06:00

Ragazzo
by Fiamma

And I found you there
in the middle of an imprecise media
happy and fleeting at once,
restless and interesting,
a moment of peace in anguish times,
just a vision, an oasis in my desert

Appearance and opinion...

2006-11-07T18:10:00.000-06:00

Today’s a little bit colder than others are and an unusual wind reminds me November and its festivities: All Saints Day and Dead Day, it also reminds me about the traditional dish called fiambre and, of course, the infernal advertisement campaign about Christmas, “20 days to get to the most beautiful month in the year”, bla bla bla.

A nice cup of rice with chocolate seems to be the right choice to accompany me at the beginning of my daily routine. Reading the newspaper takes me only fifteen minutes nowadays because it seems to be that we have the same and repeated stories everyday. Murders, beheadings, accidents fill the news, bad news running through the country which force us to distrust everybody around us and to pray harder looking for celestial help in order to come back home safe and sound, without a scratch (or even with scratches but alive).

¡Oh, those days! I wish I could go back to the time when it was possible to practice the good manners instilled in us by our parents. The courteous greeting or a nice smile that was traded when one met the neighbors, acquaintances or even the strangers. Those memories came stronger to my mind when I read a comment written by a young man in the Sunday’s news, where he talks how the police treated him just for his appearance. I wondered that day if the liberty of speech exists in this country. Why our society wants us to become clones of the current fashion trend? What’s wrong about the desire of wearing whatever we want?

I understand, of course, that the gang problem has made many and diverse expressions to look suspicious and people end to believe everybody with a different appearance belong to a gang.

However, if we pay attention, during the past few years, criminals have started looking like respectable people, very neat and now it’s rare to find a thief who looks like the preconceived idea we have of them. My father had a “close encounter” with some female delinquents in a bus. Those women wore according to the newest fashion and seemed young women going to their work. However, my father heard how, without any shame, they analyzed the bus passengers and their belongings; and when they noticed that no one was wearing anything valuable said loudly: “let’s get out of this piece of shit because only poor people is riding this bus”.

We’ve read about many stories of discrimination against the indigenous people when they try to enter to nightclubs, restaurants or hotels and they have been rejected because they have been wearing their native clothes.

Wonder if we judge accordingly to our own condition.

Enlightening anecdote

2006-11-07T18:05:00.000-06:00

Browsing through this novel world of blogs… (novel for me) I found this funny and enlightening anecdote... ;)

¡Be careful with your desires!, it could become true

A man was complaining:- “Dear God, hear me, look how much I work, and look how happy is my wife staying home. I would do anything for one miracle: to trade places with my wife. In that way, that lazy woman will learn what’s like a man’s life.”God, in His infinite mercy, ¡ZAZ!, grants the man his miracle.

In the morning of the first day, the walking miracle hurries himself to wake up the children, prepares breakfast for everyone, does laundry, starts working in the lunch and takes the children to school..

In his way home, he stops in a gas station, goes to the bank, pays some bills, gets some clothes from the dry cleaner’s, goes to the supermarket and, almost without noticing, it’s almost one o’clock!

Back home, he continued the laundry, cleaned the house, prepared lunch, hurried himself to school to pick the children up, yelled to the kids, feed them, washed the dishes, finished laundry, supervised the kids homework, ironed for a while and watched TV for a few moments …
Then, he hurried again to the kitchen to prepare dinner while yelling at the kids again to take a shower.

At 9pm he was drained and exhausted and just wanted to go to bed and sleep soundly, but one more duty awaited for him in the bed …¡Wife’s duty! Which he fulfilled as best as he could…

- Next day, he claimed to God again:“¡Lord! ¡What I was thinking when I prayed so hard for that miracle! I beg you to return me to my body, please!”

He then heard the loving answer of God:
- Of course, my son, we will just have to wait nine months because last night you got pregnant.

seen here

I translated the anecdote from Spanish to English - Traduje la historia del español al inglés

Once upon a time...

2006-11-07T18:04:00.000-06:00

I thrust my hands in your words to reach you… to reach your mouth and your arms… safe place for this lonely and discouraged soul… I reached your lips and played with them during the shortest time my imagination allowed me to…

My new toy

2006-11-07T18:02:00.000-06:00

Like a kid with a new toy, that’s how I’ve behaved in the last few days. A constant search of information about how can I improve my blog and its appearance, avidly reading another blogs, etc.However, some thing attracted my attention and it’s that many of the articles I read about blog improving talk of “how to catch the attention of more readers”. Is that the primary necessity when you publish a blog? Mmmm, a direct reflection of reality. And that’s the truth, despite how much I would want Internet to become in something completely different. A perfect world, maybe? An utopia? A fantasy?

The desire of being accepted and fit is very strong in the majority of people, desire of standing out and to be admired. Nevertheless, society will always judge people for what they don’t have, for the rules they don’t follow.Meanwhile, I’ll continue sharing these simple thoughts… because with pleasure I’ve seen that I lost the anonymity and this humble blog has been visited… ;)

I wish you enough

2006-11-07T17:59:00.000-06:00

Looking through some papers I found this short story sent by a friend. I share it with you today:

At an airport, I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her plane's departure and standing near the door, he said to his daughter, "I love you, I wish you enough". She said, "Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, daddy.” They kissed good-bye and she left.He walked over toward the window where I was seated.

Standing there, I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?” "Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing. "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?” I asked. "I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, her next trip back will be for my funeral, “he said."When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, 'I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?” He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more. When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with enough good things to sustain them," he continued and then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory. "I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Good-bye.”

He then began to sob and walked away.My friends and loved ones, I wish you ENOUGH!!! They say, "It takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them."

Take the time to live!!!

A new world

2006-11-07T17:49:00.000-06:00

A new adventure starts to develop in front of my eyes because these technological advances will allow me to “undress” my soul, in a certain way.

Anonymity’s freshness and catharsis relief will become my allies in a simple and solitary life.There won’t be extraordinary stories or profound and philosophic thoughts, no. There will be only simple thoughts about daily life, my country, and all those details that could become interests to this loner.