Tracey and I are drinking iced chai... that delicious gypsy coconut fair trade kind. Mmmm.
I finished the Story of B a few days ago. I don't even know how to start talking about the ideas presented. It questions everything we know and see, so if you're looking for a freash perspective, I super recommend it. Or just google the author Daniel Quinn, he is said to be one of the greatest thinkers of our time. I want to be a leaver again.
Today we went with Tom into Dallas while he took his final CPA test. Tracey and I just kind of roamed around aimlessly driving through the streets and we accidentally ended up at this mall, I think it was called North Park or something like that. The point is, we more than super didn't belong. I touched $168 pair of jeans.
it was exciting, like lemon juice in your eye
uncle rico
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
Today Laura has traveled to the silly little country of Costa Rico!! How exciting! It's not really my place to be blogging about it but... I can't help myself!
It's funny because last fall we started talking about what we wanted to do this summer and the original plan was to go and volunteer somewhere. That plan evolved into numerous internships and a frantic application process, hopes of staying a while in DC, perhaps being in Lubbock (for buns) for yet another summer, and hanging around good ol Cooper Texas for me. But, as we found with apartment searching... the first idea and gut feeling is put in motion.
Laura's spending SIX weeks in San Jose, living with a family, speaking spanish (...), volunteering in a school, working on a garden, hanging out at internet cafes to blogsie, and being in flipping Costa Rico!!! Courtesy of the amazing Shayna Harris (inspiring bringer of fair trade goodness) I applied for a position with United Students for Fair Trade and was elected! (I might have been the only one who applied) But, part of the position includes a two week leadership summit in Nicaragua for two weeks! Can't wait to go and to meet lots of awesome motivated student leaders!!!
Mostly though... I wanted to say that I am very proud of you Buns. I'm proud because you are not only going far away from Glen for SIX ENTIRE WEEKS but also from everyone else you know. I think this will be a great great experience for you and you will become very empowered upon discovering even more of the independence rustling in your bones! I hope that in these coming weeks you'll let it out. I'm sure you will, well... because you kind of have to!
Ok so the other mostly I've been thinking about is a song... a song that goes like this:
"Pangea! We used to be together, but why'd we have to drift apart?"
Why did we have to drift apart?
I might have painted pangea.
the sun is on the walls
I don't really have much to say... nothing major even happened today, but I feel so light. I feel the light.
Two days ago Rosa and I started taking down all the magazines, photos, posters, and random things off my walls and ceiling. In the middle of the process we talked about painting the walls since there were so many yellow scotch tape remains and tack holes across the off white surfaces. So we did. We completely painted my room in less than 24 hours. Well we left the trim, baseboards, doors, and windows alone and there is still a spot around the ceiling fan lacking the vinegar sugar beige color but, we both rather like it that way. If feels so amazing to be rid of all that weight... literally and figuratively. The curtains are gone and now the sunrise climbs the walls and wakes me. (The loud mooing perhaps in pain cow across the street also signals my slumbers end.) I love my room now, and everything feels so much more manageable. I loved that Rosa helped me, we always have so much fun together. I missed my Rosa.
I was really worried today when Laura didn't get the package I sent her yesterday. I really wanted her to get it before she left, as it contained special minimal traveling accessories. But, at the same time I wasn't that worried. I felt like it would be ok. I called the usps people and got a number but it was after 5 so I would have to wait for the morrow, and Laura leaves at 11am. The universe heard me and my intentions. It was placed in the wrong mailbox and a neighbor brought it to Laura. I made a journal for her to write in while in Costa Rico and it was ironic because she was running out of space in her only remaining one. She also said that she just felt like she didn't need to buy one and that she would get one in Costa Rico. There's always a plan, and today, whether you chalk it up to luck, coincidence, or whatever else, I feel like God reminded me that I don't need to worry.
Tom and I went running tonight. It was a really good run and even better because of my brother. I'm so thankful. I love the twilight.
Buns, I am going to try and blog more for you while you're traveling and living the dream. I'm so excited for you.
The light is inside me and I hope I can convince it to stay a while. It can be with you too.
Life and Times of Michael K
I would not recommend reading this book. I was thinking "J.M Coetzee, yeah! This book is going to be awesome!". No. It wasn't bad, in that, it held my interest for about the first 60 pages and the last 40. But the part in between was a repetition of earlier scenes. Michael K was a harelipped man who was disconnected from our world. He starved himself because he would only eat "food that was of the world", i.e. the pumpkins he grew on a patch. He was homeless for the majority of the book, and was content to sleep most of his life. You would probably like him, Terri. It was cool in that I have never read about a person who was so detached from the objects society puts value on...but was detached to the point of insanity.
The book was set in South Africa during a war, but it was never made clear what war, and who were the people fighting each other. The only reference made was that they were fighting so that the minorities could determine their own destinies.
But, like all books, it had a few moments that were beautiful. The last forty pages were primarily narrated by a doctor, and his viewpoint was intriguing.
late night conversation with my former physical therapist
I asked him how he defined god.
He said:
god is not an entity that we can assign human emotions to or that we can think of as resembling humans, god is not a he or she; god is the all pervading force or energy that exists in the universe and binds all beings together
bring me your sick?
My house has turned into an infirmary for animals. We have a chicken in our backyard who my mother found the other day lying on the road. Apparently a car had hit it, so my frantic neighbor, Renelle, called my mother and wanted to know what to do. So we have it in our backyard. It's a white hen that walks around with a slight limp. Sad.
And in my parent's room there is a guinea pig. The guinea pig's back legs are paralyzed because a four year old got a hold of it.
My mom isn't so hopeful of this one recovering.
I slacked on my posting of pictures from April...so here they are. So belated.
I was at Sugar Browns and I like to look at see what other people are reading. This was probably my favorite bagful. It was all books on Mormonism, including "the Mormon mirage"
Easter again! Aren't they adorable?
We set up outside the SUB and the chocolate melted.
I think this was the storm in which I attempted to seek shelter at least twice during, because there were numerous tornado warnings, and no one took me serious. BUT GUYS, I'M SUPER SERIAL!
Glen, Kristin, and I decorated eggs for Easter. Glen was really really proud of this one.
Glen, Glen's family, and myself went to his cousin's wedding in Shreveport. Never been to Louisiana before...and never slept in the same room as Glen, Josh, Katy, and Glen's mom before either. That was a really long car ride. BUT in the picture are left to right, Katy, Josh, Matthew, Kevin, and Glen.
"i think you hate america"
Right now I'm reading Daniel Quinn's "The Story of B." I'm not very far into it but it's pretty similar to Ishmael, which I really liked and found very interesting. It questions our society, our lifestyles, and the direction in which we are heading. It's kind of more doomsday than I would go for but I appreciate the alternative thought and these are things and ideas that I feel like I've felt, but never had the words for.
I found out today that I am officially going to Nicaragua. I'm really excited but I kind of don't feel like it's happening. I've been arguing with my parents about the trip, the idea of fair trade, politics, economics, etc. a lot lately. They aren't happy that I'm going but they support me. They don't think it's a good idea but they are letting me make my own decisions. My mom thinks I hate America but I don't, I am very thankful to live here. Really they are just concerned for my safety because they care, and I suppose that isn't a terrible thing at all.
Some days I want to give up talking to them all together, and some I want to keep trying. I talked with Grant about our parents because they have similar views and his aren't so thrilled about him joining the Peace Corps. I asked him if talking to them made him angry and he said no, that is made him sad, and sometimes it was even funny. I've been trying really hard to view my parents this way and it isn't easy. It's so frustrating to not be heard or understood, but really they have the best intentions, and it is sad that they seem to be so cynical and untrusting. But maybe I am just naive. Probably.
I went running in the dark with Tom tonight. It was peaceful running through the poorly lit streets of Cooper. I wasn't scared because Tom is scary. We talked. I find it easier to talk while running. I'm really lucky to have a brother and a sister.
finding beauty in a broken world
"I've come to think of the goal of a healthy, sustainable community/nation/planet that's fulfilling to live in as a mosaic made up of many, many small pieces. Each group, each action, each initiative can add one or two tiles to the picture, and the trick is being persistent and having faith that enough other people, folks we'll never meet, will be making their own separate efforts and adding another tile here, another there, and that it will all add up."
From Sam, the biology adviser.
A Journey Into Africa's Broken Heart
I guess we created this blog, originally, to write about the books we read, and so far Terri has been the only one keeping up with that aspect. Last night I finished Blood River: A Journey Into Africa's Broken Heart by Tim Butcher. Not only was the title gory, but Tim's last name of "Butcher" adds to the drama and suspense. Overall, I would not recommend this book. The book is about Butcher traveling through the DRC on land. This is one of the most important features of the book, as no foreign person has been able to accomplish this feat since Henry Morton Stanley did it from 1874-1877. Coincidentally both men worked for the same newspaper when doing so (Britain's Daily Telegraph). And that was part of the appeal for Butcher. The book is interesting is this account, but overwhelming depressing in others. Through his travels, Butcher passes through many remote villages in the DRC that seemingly haven't changed from when Stanley passed through in the late 1800s. In every town, Butcher laments this lack of change, and often refers to the DRC as spiralling backward. Several of the older inhabitants that he interviews came to the Congo during Belgian rule, and often wish for it back. To me, that is like germans wishing for Hilter's regime again. The Beligans were brutal, and killed millions (Millions!) of Congolese in their attempt to colonize the land. They ran huge rubber plantations (activists who wanted freedom for the Congo refered to this rubber as "red rubber") on what was essentially slave labor. When they finally granted Congo independence, they, along with the United States, supported rebel assassination of the left leaning first African leader of the Congo. What followed was a bloody dictatorship under Mobutu who ruined the Congo's economy and stole billions from the country for his own profit. After Mobutu, the situation remained in a similar state of anarchy as to what it is today.
Really depressing. It was good to learn about the history of the place though...but at the same time, I felt that Butcher shouldn't have been so critical on the Congo's state, when it is only 12 years out of a dictatorship, and has been in an almost constant state of war since then.
At one point he is talking to a Malaysian UN commander. The commander says this:
"In Malaysia, people make millions from palm oil. It is one of the most valuable commodities in the world right now. It's used in the best lipsticks and cosmetics, it is used for all sorts of food preparations and it is even used to make fuel that is more environmentally friendly than petrol. There are businessmen in Malaysia who would give anything to get access to the palm plantations along this river. But the Congo people. They don't want to make money for themselves. They just wait to take money from others." The author offers him the standard explanation for Congo's problems.
"This is rubbish," he said, "Malaysia was colonized for centuries too, most recently by the British, a colonial rule that was cruel and racist. We got independence at roughly the same time as Congo in the early 1960s, and were even drawn into a Cold War conflict for year after year as communist insurgents fought for control of Malaysia. But somehow Malaysia got through it and the Congo did not."
The section ends with Butcher asking "why are Africans so bad at running Africa?"
I think that line there made me lose respect for the book more than the hopeless portrayal of each village he went through and his lack of trying to help the local people.
Not only is saying that Africans are bad at running Africa a generalization, but it is untrue. They aren't any worse than anyone else at running a country. The problem is one cannot compare a countries against each other. Each has a unique and distinct culture and history that effect who the country is today. When "judging" Africa, we must look to each countries individual past and then compare it to it's current situation.
What I cannot stress to people enough is that there is hope in Africa. It is often hard to find, but there is hope. And resilience. Butcher describes several times how much the Congolese endure in order to live. He views it as signs of a backward culture when one of his guides pleads with him to take his 4 year old son back with him to South Africa. Or when a man walks miles in the rainforest's to take palm oil to a market.
Though I found little hope in his book, I find it on various non-profit websites working directly in the DRC. Especially Women for Women International.
But I don't want to undermine what is happening in the DRC. The situation is horrible. I just wanted to make the point that many people are doing all of they can to survive so that the next generation can do what they cannot and pull their country out of poverty and chaos to be a place of peace.
organic Darjeeling tea
Darjeeling tea makes me think of the movie, Darjeeling Express, that my dad rented one evening last year and half watched while he was cooking in the kitchen. I think he rented it because it was contained the word "Darjeeling" in it, and he loves Darjeeling tea. It wasn't a bad movie. It had an odd cast of Owen Wilson, Adrian Brody, and a brief appearance by Natalie Portman. Hahah Terri, you would have probably hated it. Basically the movie was about three brothers (Wilson, Brody, and another guy) traveling around India to find their mother who was hiding in a covenant. It really wasn't that great of a movie...but I remember one scene where they had finally found their mother, and they were talking, and one of them asked why she had left. Flustered, she gestured at the monestary behind her with all of the nuns (I think they ran an orphanage) that was obviously underfunded and didn't have a lot of resources, and said "they needed me." And her sons said back that they needed her too.
I think about that scene a lot when I want to go to Africa. I also think about what people mean by "need" and who are we to say that one person's need is greater than another? Mostly, I think about whether or not the people whom we think need us, really do. I think about that more broadly, like Africa. I want to incorporate that in the short story I will eventually write. I think that since I have been blessed with wealth, resources, and an education, I should use it to help others. But I have to understand how to help. I think this will be the problem. I've been thinking about how I was raised a lot lately, as well, and I'm sure that my viewpoints and culture varies vastly from the culture I would want to "help". But I think we could have a global dialogue, learn from another, and both be students and teachers at the same time. I'm trying to keep an open mind about this as I go to Costa Rica. I used to believe firmly that particular things (drinking before 21, sex before marriage, etc) were wrong, and it was black and white, but now I am beginning to see a gray. And I want to keep that gray area and not impose my idea of black and white upon the people I will meet.
and we'll all sing hallelujah, when we arrive at home
Lezlie shared this link with me, and I shall share it with you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XaL7CkQaQpU
summer bells
I just finished reading Milan Kundera's "Farewell Waltz." Here's something to ponder...
"In this country people don't respect the morning. An alarm clock violently wakes them up, shatters their sleep like the blow of an ax, and they immediately surrender themselves to deadly haste. Can you tell me what kind of day can follow a beginning of such violence? What happens to people whose alarm clock daily gives them a small electric shock? Each day they become more and more used to violence and less used to pleasure. Believe me, it is the mornings that determine a man's character."
I enjoyed the book. Thanks for so kindly checking out all the Kundera good ol lib.ttu.edu had Buns. So thoughtful always.
Also, something else,
"But he knew it was useless to indulge in illusions."
I love the rain.
Here comes San Jose!
So, for the summer I am kind of cheating in my efforts to educate myself for the purpose of interest and not classes. I'm going to do a lot of reading on forgiveness, the DRC, and the South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission to name a few, but it is for my senior thesis. But the senior thesis was a product of my own interest, and not my education, so maybe it's not cheating. Maybe it doesn't matter.
I feel like I've neglected this blog. I hope to do better about that for the next couple of weeks.
Anyway, I am currently reading In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz: Living on the Brink of Disaster in Mobutu's Congo. The book opened with this passage that I found amusing, and feel like I will experience to some degree in a few weeks:
"It is that revelatory moment when white, middle-class Westerners finally understand what the rest of humanity has always known-that there are places in this world where the safety net they have spent so much of their lives erecting is suddenly whipped away, where the right accent, education, health insurance and a foreign passport, all the trappings that spell 'It Can't Happen to Me' no longer apply, and their well-being depends on strangers."
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