Day 9- Part II

First stop:  San Pedro de la Laguna.  A hippie town, lots of gringos who have come here and set up shop- massage and natural healing and all that kind of stuff.  We got lost in the town, which was great because we ended up far from the touristy strip of gringo jewelry makers selling woven and beaded bracelets.  Very quiet, slow feel to this place.  I can see why the gringos stay.  

   

 

 

 

Next stop, Santiago Atitlan. A larger village, tucked away in enclave in the lake (a bay?), between two volcanoes (San Pedro and Toliman). This was a little busier of a town, more vendors waiting for visitors, overall not as quaint and not as inviting. We went to the church, walked around, had a cup of coffee and ran into friends (!), but were ready to go.

  

   

On to the final stop- San Antonio Polopo. Precious place. Very small, completely empty of visitors- there was one other boat docked. And the people seemed to be living life there without completely focusing on the tourists. Up a steep hill to the church, which we could see from far off in the lake- bright and shining.

  

 It struck me here that there were people (and especially kids) enjoying themselves. There were people swimming off the dock. There were three little boys on the see-saws. And as we were walking down a steep hill, there were two little boys laughing and playing- they had a plastic banner from a bar (Gallo- the local beer), and one would sit on the banner while the other would pull him down the hill. A makeshift sled on a small hill- the entire trip took 5 seconds. And they would walk back up the hill with the banner. Over and over. And all the while giggling. It made me laugh just to see them enjoy themselves so much!

 

   

I loved this place. In Panajachel, I bought a little something from a girl who was selling handmade crafts. She looked so precious, and she was just 9! She spoke like the ladies- with a slight whine when they are trying to convince you to buy something to help them out. And she was a little mini-adult, telling me how she had worked so hard to make this or that. Anyway, in San Antonio I got to see kids playing! I loved it.

Day 5- las ruinas

More on the ruins. I am excited that I have the afternoon off to go visit more ruins. I was thinking of going to visit el volcan Pacaya, but for the first time, it has been cloudy all day with showers now and then. So, I am free to walk around the old churches and monestaries.

Yesterday I went to Las Capuchinas. Yes, of course, because of the name, I was destined to love it. But I cannot, not even with pictures, explain how stunned I was. It's an old monestary where nuns would live, never leaving the grounds of the monestary. It was a pretty large place to visit, but imagining myself there for more than a day or two is definitely suffocating.





Anyway, they are renovating the cathedral (again, pictures at some point). You can see the nuns' rooms, little cells off of a central, round courtyard (I ran out of batteries at this point.).




One more thing- they do not rebuild all of the things that come down in earthquakes. Just the front facade of La Cathedral de Santiago has been renovated, the back left as ruins that can be visited. Very cool!!

Day 5- things I like

Things I like about Guatemala:

- There are flowers everywhere- in the bathrooms, in the bedrooms, in the streets, in the cracks in the ruins. I see people walking down the street with cut flowers wrapped in newspaper to take home- it doesn't seem to matter what economic class the people are from.





- If people sit down at a table next to you at a restaurant, they greet you with Buenas Tardes or Buenas Dias.
- Because all the streets of Antigua are cobblestone, nobody can drive very fast. So, you aren't really scrambling and trying to get through traffic. Besides the fact that there are relatively few cars around here, people stop for cars and cars stop for people. Novel idea for us Arabs.
- The ruins. I'm not a huge fan of archeology or old ruins, etc., meaning that I like to see them, but I am often not moved by them. These ruins move me. I don't know why exactly. Maybe it's because the architecture is uncovered, the walls are removed, the coats and covers area pulled away, and the bones remain.

Day 4- wedding

Today I ended up a bride in a wedding ceremony during a demonstration in a nearby town named San Antonio de Aguas Calientes. I'll have to put up pictures, but they dressed us up in traditional clothes and explained the different designs on the clothes- all hand woven and embroidered- quite stunning.

      

  
The weather has been really great so far- El Pais de la Eterna Primavera (Land of Eternal Spring). Aside from an afternoon shower on Sunday, it has been sunny and pretty comfortable (even for me!). So far, so good.

Really, the pictures are the way to go here- I'll try to connect at some point and post them.

Had lunch with a new friend- from Denmark. A new buddy- yippee!!

Guatemala- Day 2

I've already settled pretty well into Antigua. I know my way around because it's set up in a grid with a big old volcano at the south, so you can't ever really lose your way!! Love that! And the streets are mostly numbered, so there's no real problem. It's a pretty small town (everything fits pretty much between 7 avenues and 7 streets, I think (some things on the outskirts), but it is very manageable.

Yesterday was Day One, and I was on my own. I am staying with a family, but Sundays are family days, and so they were on their own and I was left to my own

evices. So, I walked around, had breakfast at one garden cafe, had coffee and torta Chilena at another, and dinner at another! In between, I visited lots and lots of handicraft places and sat in Parque Central and just watched people go by.

A few things have struck me so far. One is guards at every store- the more valuable the wares, the bigger the guns. The second is that are a lot more American places here than I'd expected- not necessarily in Antigua, but coming from the airport we passed

hings like Little Caeser (I know everyone has Pizza Hut, but Little Caesar?)! And the electric outlets are not only shaped like those in the US, they are even 120 volts!! More US-influenced than expected.

But the people are definitely Guatemalan! More on that soon....

the media

Yesterday, at a gathering of people, I met someone who was said he was aligned with neither the Republicans nor the Democrats, but that from his unbiased point of view, he thought the media was slanted towards the liberal side! I never thought I'd meet any one of those specimens! I laughed a little, and we talked a bit about it, then agreed to disagree. And then we talked a bit about the moral fabric of society falling apart and what that meant, which was not something I was worried about, we decided to avoid topics like that forever more. More than agreeing to disagree, we figured it was safer to avoid it altogether. He actually thought that the news anchors pushed people to bring up points that worked against the conservatives! Wow.

imans' ramadan

Happy Ramadan for all of you out there! Today was the first day of Ramadan (in the US and the UAE and some other parts). Here is a picture that Iman drew for Ramadan- you see the crescent moon (the symbol of Islam) in the sky and in the window (they have a moon with lights (like Christmas lights) in their window). The only thing I don't know is who the third kid is! The picture was scanned in, which is why it is cut off at the bottom (I think).

First day of fasting. Sunset around here is about 7pm. It was easier in the past years because sunset (when you can break the fast) was earlier due to switching back the clocks. I think this year is the first year in a while where we're in the longer time.

I made stuffed grape leaves and went to a friend's for some hors d'oeuvres. And so I had a lot of nice food, but nothing very Ramadan-specific. I will make some stuff tomorrow, I think, to get into the spirit of Ramadan. Some lentil soup- that's one of the key things. It's no fun though fasting while everyone else is going about their normal routine- then you just feel like it's a test. When everyone else is fasting, you feel like part of the community, and then everyone's in it together. Maybe I need to invite people over for iftar (breakfast).

Here's Iman, looking more grown up. She's modeling an outfit she's wearing to a relative's wedding, and she had all of these poses stored in her. She was modeling, most likely after those girls on tv commercials. Still, rather surprising. She's a beauty.

Rawan

So many cute things to see here. Look at that hair! Just like her aunt's. And then we are playing Pretty Pretty Princess, where as you land on the different squares, you get to put on another piece of jewelry. That's a girls' game if there was ever one! But fear not, these girls will not be too girlie- they are surrounded by women who were not ever girlie girls. So, I'm actually glad they are enjoying being girls without thinking too hard about it. But then again, Rawan's only three. There's plenty of time to come up with personal philosophies about who she wants to be.

On the wall behind her are the picures that Iman, mostly, has drawn And they get taped up all over this room. The family room, as it should be.  

confessions

After reading Confessions of an Economic Hitman, I can't stop bringing it up in all sorts of conversations. I knew of the general things discussed here, knew more about the details of things that happened in the Middle East, but it's still very different to have it validated in a book by someone who was directly involved. How much more evidence can you ask for? I think everyone should read it!! Seriously.

I don't talk a lot about my own life events here, partly because they are not so exciting. But also because there are so many aspects to my life, as there are to most, and all of the sides don't get shared with many people. Just the normal thing- I know people in different settings, we talk about certain things, and not everyone brings out the same side. I remember in grad school, my friend Lucia would ask me what I was doing all weekend on my own- she thought I had a secret life. It wasn't a secret, but that's the way it is.

Anyway, it was also pointed out that I don't have a lot of photos on the blog. So, here are some great niece photos!

gaza and sleeplessness

Last weekend I read in the New York Times a quote by a Palestinian. He was commenting on the "kidnapping" of the Israeli soldier in Gaza, and he said "We are either going to live together in peace or we are going to live together in fear." I'm paraphrasing. How accurate. Some people will argue this on and on, but when you have lived in the horrid conditions in which the Palestinians live and have lived for the past decades, you start to think at a different level. How easy it is to be detached from the situation and judge. And how is a soldier "kidnapped" but Israelis go in and take people from their homes in the middle of the night as "prisoners"?

I'm worried about the situation there escalating, but it's mainly because Israeli action is unchecked- there is nobody to make sure they do not lose control. They do not listen to the UN (have ignored UN resolutions condemning their actions for years). They do not get seriously threatened in any way for their actions. They are allowed to run free, bomb the hell out of places and claim it's in their defense. Sound familiar?

It kills me to see the newspapers. In the New York Times, they had an article about the situation- last weekend there were 8 Palestinians and 1 Israeli killed. And the picture they had was of the Israeli side mourning the death of the Israeli. Shouldn't the 8 win out there? How much sympathy can you rally for the ones who are winning? How shameless. And then in the Express there was a picture of 2 Palestinian men on the doorstep of a morgue awaiting the funeral of their relative (aha, you may think, it is unbiased), but then there was an armed militant in the picture, mentioned in the caption, masked, rifled, and all. Now don't tell me that was there by accident. How dare they portray the Palestinians as these militant people who mourn their dead relatives with guns in the air while the Israelis are the innocent victims. Shameless, shameless, shameless.

I can't sleep, but this time it's because of my 12 hour long sleep last night- I'm pretty saturated with sleep. It feels good- it's been a while since I felt this awake. Those poor Palestinians.

funny signs cont'd

Ok, so this is a simple sign. But it begs the question: who the hell put their big fat butt down on top of these precious flowers? And did the guardian see them in the act of crushing the delicate petals? Or did they wake in the morning to find mysterious butt prints left where nobody would ever want to find them? 

searching

Check these out:

My japanese name is 猿渡 Saruwatari (monkey on a crossing bridge) 美晴 Miharu (beautiful clear sky).
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Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.

Your Birthdate: June 10

Independent and dominant, you tend to be the alpha dog in most situations. You're very confident, and hardly anything ever shakes you. Mundane tasks tend to drain you - you prefer to be making great plans. You are quite original. When people don't "get" you, it bothers you a lot. Your strength: Your ability to gain respect Your weakness: Caring too much what others think Your power color: Orange-red Your power symbol: Letter X Your power month: October

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

So totally off. Who the hell sees me as a monkey on a crossing bridge. Well, maybe some people, but come on.

Yes, I think we run these little tests, hoping, against all sense of reason, that it will tell us something nice about ourselves. Maybe something we like about ourselves- maybe even reveal a hidden beautiful secret?! Because the older you get (and even when you're young), people don't sit around and talk to you about you, about what they like about you. Only your parents do that. When you get old enough, your siblings maybe. If you're lucky, your partner. And then maybe your kids. Those are your family. In the end, your family. And then there are some friends who make their way into that category- and those you consider sisters or brothers, too. But don't we all feel to some level that there is some wonderful something within us that is not yet shared with the world? The source of creativity, perhaps.

late night

I don't think anyone is reading my blog, and I guess that makes it my own, private space. Not that I don't have a lot of that already, but this way I'm never really sure who might peak in. So I have to watch what I say. Writing on the edge, you might call it. For those of you who know me, you can imagine all the censoring I'm doing.

No, but really. I'm having a hard time sleeping. Anxiety attack is another word for it (two words). Wondering what I'm doing in the coming year, where I'll be, if I'll actually get around to doing all of the great projects I have in mind, if I'll ever find those perfect white "city shorts" before the season is over.

Went to an alumni dinner the other night (I usually avoid these, but I really wanted to meet someone whose name is Brewster- I imagined this would be an old, filthy rich, brooks-brothers-clad sort of sweet man, but instead it was a guy five years older than me, probably the rest applies). And during the introductions was "what would you major in if you could go back to school now". And the recent grads all said- probably the same thing (insert nasal tone here). And the older people mostly said other things.

I said art, and that I'd maybe become an artist. Partly to push buttons, surrounded by some very uptight, WASPY folk, I figured that would sort of get at them. But also, I think it would be fun. Would I have been successful? As an architect, maybe. But as an artist? Ha.

So, what ifs. And my birthday coming up (ok, exactly one month away, but still). And, so, it's one of those things. And I didn't make it to yoga this week, which really balances me- apart from all of that sort of talk, it's true.

Ok, let's end with a little story. I was walking to work, and I saw this mousy older middle-aged woman crossing the street (I think she had just gotten out of her car). And she was walking with a cane- not for old age, but it looked like she was limping, recovering from something. The problem is that she had a big dog on a leash, and the dog was running across the street, and so she was sort of wobbling along, being dragged on by the dog, trying to avoid walking on her hurt leg, and looking super silly just for carrying a cane! And the best part was, I was sort of laughing inside, and I passed by this older guy who was also watching her, and we both just started laughing. Out loud. And we made some comment about how ridiculous the situation was. Nice start to the day.

Good night.

family friends

My father was, for a few years, a leading member of a pack of three. Three friends who worked together, who plotted together over money-making schemes in the evenings (usually at our house), who sometimes gathered their families to go out for coffee at one of the local cafes.

One year I went home, and I asked my father where his friends had gone to. He told me, George died. George died? Why didn't you tell me before? And with a little chuckle that I recognize, because I seem to have inherited it, as nervous energy bubbles to the surface when it needs an outlet, he said- George and his whole family.

The family had gone on a vacation by car to Syria. It was George, his wife, their two children, a relative of theirs, and the driver of the rented taxi. On the way back, a car hit them from behind. A potentially survivable accident. But, the containers of cheap gasoline bought in Syria were in the back, and they lit.

And it gets worse.

The ones in the back seat were found climbing towards the front, trying to escape the flames.

All this, and there's more.

The car, out of control, veers into incoming traffic and gets hit again.

You can breathe out- that's the end.

The story came out in the papers at the time. A human tragedy. Even if you didn't know them, you would have cried a little bit over their fate. There are so many questions- even the trivial ones like what happened to the house they had just bought and moved into? where do you start to pick up the pieces of all of these people? who does that? whose job is that when there is no one left? would it have been better to have one survive so some trace of the family could remain with us? Juliana, George's wife, worked passionately in a home for abused children- could those kids handle another loss?

Sometimes I remember this family. It seems to be out of the blue. I have people closer to me that I mourn like a subtle hum that stays with me. But, somehow, there is room in my heart for George and his family, too.

visit from a neighbor

Tonight I got a drop-in visit from a neighbor. She is an old lady, retired, a little afraid of people. But she still somehow made a connection with me and JQ, and she stopped by today to ask some questions about moving house. And I did not buy it, but I accepted it- her way of putting a reason for the visit. And we talked about whatever we could pull up between the two of us. Two unrelated, very different people. She, retired, no money, looking to buy a house in the middle of Pennsylvania to save money in the long run, obvously thinking that is where she will end up at the end. Me, younger, starting out, trying not to think about those years in the distant future, trying to focus on life now with energy and time. It was a nice cup of tea, and I feel connected again to life, complete life, not just my bubble.

back, baby!

My best friend's back. Yippee!!!

Kafka on the Shore by Murakami

Well, I finished reading this a little while ago. And I guess I had no strong urge to write up about it because I was a little bit disappointed. I enjoyed reading it. It grabbed me pretty early on and held me in throughout. But in the end, it felt way too science-fictiony. And that is one of the genres I really do not like. Not in books, not in movies, not on tv.

So, should I leave it at that? Speak up! The truth is that it felt too contrived, for one. He seemed to sort of know what would sell, and he told a story based on a formula. And it didn't really seem to come naturally. Secondly, he himself talked about how things have to stay vague to be able to capture the full meaning- yet he goes against that. Let me explain. He is talking about the subconscious, and while he usually keeps it very vague, in this book he defines a space where you can enter that world (based on an entrance stone) and totally deflates the grand notion of the subconscious as something you can, well, be conscious about.

Not sounding so good. Enough rambling. Anyone out there read it?

yummy cake

This is the cake I'd made for Anne's baby shower. It's a three-layer lemon poppy seed cake (really nice cake) with white chocolate cream and strawberries. It came out pretty yummy. Love those strawberries! Luckily there were some leftovers... mmmmm  

first step

Well, I thought just to be fair, I should keep everyone updated on what happens with this Northwest Airlines fiasco that took place- if you'd really like to be caught up, check out the first few days of the blog.

Anyway, I received a check saying that they were reimbursing me for my airport hotel room. And that they were sending my letter along to the next office for review. And I got some frequent flyer points. Good step. We'll see what happens next.

I met another Alaunde

First of all, check out Alaunde's blog: Alaunde's blog .

Secondly, we met Alaunde at a New Year's Eve party, and we were instant friends, just like instant oatmeal. Without a doubt. Right, Alaunde?

Thirdly, I met another Alaunde today on the train! Same size, same humor, only Slovakian and not Celtic/Scottish/Irish(?). We talked and talked on our prolonged 5 hour train ride! And Shoshana was her name-o. Ok, there were definite differences, but she just reminded me so much of Alaunde!

One thing I liked was her telling me about getting married a year or so ago. She said, it's so much fun. It's hard, too, because when you get mad you can't run away, but it's just so much fun. Basically, your best friend at home. I tell all of my friends to do it.

Nice attitude.

She liked the baby blanket I'm crocheting for my friend. And she talked so loudly, I think everyone around us heard. And since we talked about everything, everyone heard everything. And because the train kept stopping for repairs, everyone suffered together, and as my history professor in college pointed out, that makes people bond. And so by the end, everyone was commenting on the blanket. Well, maybe not everyone, but the ones sitting around me. I'll show you when I'm done. It's actually rather pretty.

farewell, Lois Lane

Superman's wife died this past week. And it's sad, not because she was a celebrity (who was she?), but because she was with an amazing man, she did great things, and she died shortly after him, not having time to really enjoy life. Breast cancer, I think, and she was only 44. She should have been rewarded after all of that, she should have had time to find a new love, to sit back and enjoy a normal life, if that's really possible. Maybe she didn't have any energy left in her. Lois and Superman, they fought some good battles. My respects.

so good it hurts

When the weather hits a certain temperature, when you walk outside and can't distinguish where your skin ends and where the air begins, when it feels so perfectly right outside, there is a pain that is ever so slight that settles in. The sensation is similar to what you feel when you have a fever, when the lightest touch on your skin hurts so good. And when the air is perfectly still, it feels that everyone is holding their breath at once, the earth itself holding its breath. And if you held your breath so you don't drown out the sound that you're waiting for, you'll be able to hear the whispers that everyone else is waiting to hear, if you would only tilt your head and lean your ear up a little closer.

Above all, at these times, a feeling of nostalgia overwhelms me. Where does it come from? What am I nostalgic for? The only explanation that comes to mind is that a part of me is nostalgic as a forethought, that at that perfect moment, a part of me is already missing the passing of that perfect moment, already nostalgic about a time in which I lived in that perfect moment. It is not a sad nostalgia, more of the romantic kind. At one and the same moment, I seem to be living and looking back at myself living. The making of memories, I guess.

beautiful, beautiful

Oh, these are the most beautiful flowers I've ever gotten! Happy Valentine's Day! (I realize it's late, but I'm still catching up with photos.)

going to all that trouble

Ok, since I'm on a roll of putting pictures out there, I wanted to share this. It seems to me someone thought that this fire hydrant would be bored if it did not have a little window to look out from- being cooped up might be too much for it? I just liked that they were so considerate. It's the simple things in life that make me laugh out loud- I love my walks to work for all of these little details.


 

and one more, as promised

Oh, and here is the hand dryer that says do not touch with wet hands- see the little sign? Funny. 

as promised

Here is the photo I took in the Amsterdam airport. As I had promised, I put it on the blog as soon as I downloaded it- yes, a month later. It takes me a while to get things set up with my new computer, etc. I'm becoming technologically up-to-date. Not technologically advanced, mind you, just catching up. Even though I'm a scientist, my home life is led more like a bohemian. Who likes to have Martha Stewart-style dinner parties. Martha in hippie clothes surrounded by hand-me-down furniture. Imagine that.

So, this is the toothbrush-ready-to-go-with-toothpaste dispenser I had mentioned. Pretty cool. How does it come out, I wonder. Wish I had tried that out. Enough to attempt that airport again? Perhaps (perhaps, perhaps).

 

jackson pollock dissected

Not literally. His work has been explained by fractal analysis, which I think is really cool. Check out the latest from "Nature": Fractals and Art: In the Hands of a Master .

Not that I know what fractal analysis is, really. It's just cool to know that there is a mathematical pattern in his work. What I'm still not clear on is whether the fractal pattern that is found in Pollock's work contributes to its mesmerizing nature.

For those of you who poopoo abstract art, ha! Perhaps those of us who like it are ok with making sense of it at a more abstract level. It's very much like classical music, I think, and unless you study it or create it, you can appreciate it without knowing exactly why. It's not all about being able to talk about it or name what it is or be able to verbalize what you get out of it. Abstract art is not about saying "it looks like a..." Obviously there is a fine line between what is art and what is not, and I guess it is defined, at least on a personal level, as something that does something to you, even if you do not verbalize what it is.

Oh, that reminds me of a quote from the current book (Murakami's Kafka on the Shore): "But listening to the D major [Schubert's Sonata in D Major], I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of- that a certain type of perfection can only be realized through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally, I find that encouraging."

So, that's a little bit about Pollock, too, that the sum of all of his squiggles amount to something that is rather perfect. He perfected that style. This Murakami quote is very abstract, in and of itself. That's the hallmark of Murakami's writing because he plays with the subconscious. Good book, by the way, but more on that later.

i'm back, baby

Your Candy Heart Says "Get Real"

You're a bit of a cynic when it comes to love. You don't lose your head, and hardly anyone penetrates your heart. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: is all about the person you're seeing (with no mentions of v-day!) Your flirting style: honest and even slightly sarcastic What turns you off: romantic expectations and "greeting card" holidays Why you're hot: you don't just play hard to get - you are hard to get

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?