Like precious gems

I thought I would give a little update from the frontlines-- of chic-ville, that is. Mom and I have a homebase this week on the Costa del Sol in Malaga. IT's convenient because it gives us easy access to the rest of Andalucia, a view of the ocean, and a little kitchen. But man, is this place my nightmare. It's costing me a Euro for twenty minutes of internet. Robbery, I say!

Today we want to the Real Escuela del Arte Escuestre in Jerez, which is the most famous equestrian school in Spain. The horses are amazing, and, like true horse junkies, mom and I tried to sneak away from the tour so we could go watch the horses during training. The tour guide found us and chastised us publically. So, tails between our legs, we finished the tour and went back to watching the training sessions.

After horses, we drove down the coast of Cadiz and had lunch in Tarifa, which is still a really cool little town with lots of wind surfers and not much else. We had some really beautiful views over to Morocco and a little walk on the beach. It feels REALLY good to be out of the city.

I have to run because my internet gold is running out. Update soon. LOVE!
H

Short on top for the fellas, long in back for the ladies...

I am sitting next to my mom in an internet café here in Granada, and it may be one of the more hilarious things I´ve ever seen. It´s her first time using a p.c., and it´s like a disaster area. It took her ten minutes just to figure out how to press the mouse button. As I write this, she is grumbling away to herself about her new-found hatred of Spanish keyboards. It´s an evening´s worth of entertainment.

I suppose I provided the entertainment last night, with more long-lasting effects. I went to my first Spanish hairdresser and came out definitely the worse for wear. I thought maybe I would try a little trim and some bangs to, you know, make my face thinner or some other bullshit that you hear in magazines. He thought I would look good with a mullet. My thick, curly hair, which I actually like, is now a sort of deflated rat-tail.
Mom´s first reaction when she saw me was, "That´s interesting." Then she tried to assure me that maybe it would look better when it´s curly. I asked "Do you remember what happens when my hair is short and I let it go curly? A hint: it rhymes with bushbroom." She almost suffocated because she was laughing so hard.

I managed to not freak out until I got home, at which point mom had to force-feed me a horse tranquilizer to keep me from sawing off my hair with a kitchen knife. (Just kidding-- It was more like a sheep tranquilizer.) We managed to make it through one tapa down the street before I totally bonked and fell asleep like the most tired mushroom you´ve ever seen. On the bright side, I am a hat person, so people won´t be totally surprised when I wear a hat for the next, oh, six months.

Moral of the story: Never get your hair cut in a country where mullet dreadlocks are the mode du jour.

ps- That´s not really me up there, but you get the idea... It´s really not that bad, I swear.

"Singing my song..."

What a beautiful day. For many reasons, I guess, but really because fate sort of threw a series of incidents my way that make me feel renewed. Almost new-agey.
Last night, I had a great night with friends, secret Santa-ing and watching an Argentinian band with two great women singers (YES! Spanish that makes me feel at home!) Then I had good conversation with Ben about happy/sad/exciting things and slept like a rock after running to catch the bus to Otura.
This morning started off slowly but ended up being really nice. There´s this little workshop around the corner from my house where a woman sells these beautiful leather bags that she makes. Now, mind you, they´re leather, and I really dislike wearing leather, but I am drawn there every time I pass. So I went in. We ended up talking about a lot of things, and showing each other art, and by the end of the conversation, she had asked me if I would be interested in sharing a booth with her this coming year at the art market. And giving my name to a friend of hers that plays in a blues band. God, I love people and how they come in at all the right times! Now I visions of sugarplums and art supplies and sun-lit studios dancing in my head. I wish it wasn´t so frickin´expensive to just do the things that I love.
This afternoon, I have been working on my midterm report, and ideas are actually coming. I feel so relieved to be getting it done that I may actually celebrate a little tonight over at Michael Landon´s. (Mom thinks I´ve become a little bar-hopper here in Granada. I had to explain that, since we have no heat, bars seem awfully warm on a cold night... I´ll still take water any day!)

The picture above is by Miska, one of my faves. She´s in a lot of the galleries in Oregon... More later. Sending so much love, it hurts. H

Anarchy and Flamenkulele

After spending the afternoon filling out a form trying to convince SIT that I will be an ethical researcher, I really don´t have the ganas to work on my damn capstone anymore, especially since, if I had it my way, I wouldn´t do research at all. My midterm report is due Friday, but I always do my best work at the last minute, so this will probably be brilliant.
After the news about Pinochet yesterday, I got distracted from the fact that I had a really great weekend in the mountains, hanging out at my new favorite place with Mathis, Mariann, and the kids. My pololo Ben came with me and fell in love with it just like everyone else does. Leo, the WWOOFER, was still there, along with another great girl from before, Jeany, and some new WWOOFERS from Denmark. I got to do my first olive harvesting, which was a great excuse to climb really high up into a tree and whack at things. I only got thwacked my Mathis once, and nothing was broken, so all in all, I think it was a great work day.
Florina, who is two, has been my challenge for the past few weeks. She finally decided to be my friend this time, and spent a good hour filling my sweater pouch with olives, then emptying them onto the net. I am amazed my how fast she´s growing. Suddenly, she´s starting to talk all the time, and since the last time I visited, she´s started to eat vegetables. It makes me all broody. As if raging mid-20s hormones weren´t enough, now I actually have a beautiful little duker picking olives with me. As they say here in Spain--fatal.
Birta, who is the oldest, spent a lot of time with me this time, and we´ve decided that we can call each other sisters now. She´s been taking care of a neighbor´s horse, Mina, so I taught her how to pick hooves, and got to go on a nice bareback ride. Then we braided each other´s hair and jumped on the trampoline. It´s like happyland for freaks.

The semester´s winding down here, and working is almost impossible. The whole city is like a mythical Christmas parade, and it´s almost enough to get me in the Christmas spirit if it weren´t for the damn Christmas carols. Here, we get the English and then the Spanish version. As a little act of rebellion, Zack and decided we are going to buy a menorah and celebrate Chanukah. Being the bad non-Jew that I am, I don´t even know when it starts this year. I beat Zack, though. He´s just a bad Jew. Gotta love the matriarchal lineage thing.

Mom gets here in less than a week, and I am so excited. I´m not sure how she´ll handle the fact that it´s really cold everywhere, but we´ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We have a week in Malaga, and I think if we close our eyes, put on a bathing suit, and get the bathroom all steamy, we´ll be able to pretend we´re somewhere tropical. I´ll even buy a little palm tree just to add to the illusion. My email says that it´s dumping snow in Colorado. I don´t want to hear about it because I might cry, but for those of you there, please enjoy it. And make a snow angel. Next season, I swear...

Pinochet is dead.

Good riddance. Too bad he was never prosecuted for crimes against humanity, but it is some type of closure for Chile.
Aquí hay una lista en español de sus victimas (algunos, por lo menos): http://www.derechos.net/doc/pino/proceso.html

Things turned violent, which is a shame but not surprising. It´s been there under the surface for thirty years, and no one in Chile doesn´t have an opinion. The difference is that now they aren´t afraid to express it. I have to remind myself over and over to find that place in me that is different from him, because my first reaction was to say that they should have thrown him (alive) out af an airplane long ago, as he did to his opponents (and their families). But then, am I not as bad as he was?
Last year in Vermont, we saw this performance by a Rwandan dancer and musician who had watched his entire family as they were raped and executed. He talked about his process of forgiveness, and how he has forgiven the men who murdered his family. It´s something that I struggle a lot with (and I am a pretty forgiving person), and I am not sure that I can forgive that easily. I am angry with people like Pinochet because I saw the fear that he created in some of my friends, and the deep division that grew in Chile over this great, black abyss of thirty years. People are still scared to talk about it.

Okay, too much ugly stuff after a really great weekend. I have to work, but this is just so much more fulfilling... More later.
H

Día de la concha

It´s yet another holiday in Granada (that´s two this week), so everything is closed and I forgot to buy food. We are amazingly good at scrounging up something to eat, though, and in the process we´ve discovered some pretty tasty meals. Frank Sinatra´s favorite breakfast, which was apparently a pasta omelette, turns out to be delicious with a little hot sauce. Add some coffee and Bailey´s and you feel like you´re rolling in luxurious... well, luxury.
I just got back from my last trip to Morocco for the semester and had the chance to say a little goodbye to my friends in Rabat and Asilah. I had the best group ever, and they made the trip great. I learned a lot as we went, which always makes the trip better for me. This weekend I am headed back up to the Alpujarra to see Mathis and Mariann and the family, so I can´t ask for a better way to end the semester.
I had a good meeting with my boss yesterday, and things in that department are getting better. I am working with him to develop the Alpujarra program, and also starting to talk about creating an organization in Colorado. He´s the detail mastermind, so he is good at helping me recognize what questions I am not asking. We´ll see how it goes.

Mom comes next week. I have until the 15th to finish my midterm report for my capstone. Considering that I haven´t really started, I guess I will be in front of a computer a lot in the next few days. It will be a good distraction from waiting for mom to get here. Anybody have any creative ideas about writing something about social identity/immigration/art/music that might be something someone would want to read? I don´t think academic writing and I will get along well right now.

After talking to Arnd, I´ve been thinking about what kind of organization I would start if I could. Pablo? Spencer? I know you´re out there. Wanna do something cool and on a mountain and in Spanish? Look, Paul, you even have a Spanish name already, so you´re halfway there!!

I´ll keep daydreaming and meet you on the other side. Love you all. H