Old Fashioned Fun

This is just a beautiful picture of a jungle sky.

Fun Fact No. 4a: Blonde isn't just blonde. You often see little kids around here that have kind of orangey-blonde hair. No, their mothers didn't have a fling with the crazy gringo tourist. It's actually malnutrition.

Well, this Christmas holiday was just good old fashioned fun. After a yummy turkey dinner with not just the whole family, but also with all the boys that work in the lumber yard, all the extended relatives from upriver, plus all kinds of stragglers and the gringa, we toasted with champagne at midnight on the 24th and rang in Christmas by going to other people's houses to visit them. It was great fun. We ended up at this lovely bar that our friend Wendy is in charge of while the owner is out of town. It's called La Taberna del Cauchero and it's really stunning - 20 foot high ceilings, handcrafted chairs and tables, floor to ceiling windows with a great view of the Amazon river, and a great sound system. We just chatted with old friends, danced a bit, and went home. Pretty chill.

The next day (Christmas Day officially), we piled in (and I'm talking PILED IN) the truck and took to the road. We headed out to a bridge over the Itaya river where there's a beach (well, kind of. The rivers are swelling right now with all the rain from upriver), volleyball courts, soccer fields, and lots of people selling food. We played volleyball (and I didn't completely suck. Only mostly sucked!) and swam in the ice cold river and ate tacacho (plantain balls - one of my favorites!) and drank soda and shot the bull.
















































On the way home, we could see the rain about one or two kilometers away. It's funny how it works here. Super sunny where we were but you could see the wall of rain down the road. It's like someone did a PeeWee's Adventure move and brought out a fake curtain with a rainy landscape painted on it. It can be that dramatic. We got the three smallest kids in front and tried to fashion umbrellas out of cardboard boxes that we had been sitting on. When we got to the rain it just gushed down, but it was neat because then you could see the sun on the other side. It's kind of Charlie Brown in style - the one raincloud over just the one person.

We got home a bit soggy and cold, so I went out with my goddaughter, Silvia, to eat hot soup. We were going to have this yummy ginger soup at a Chinese joint down the road, but there is construction on that road so there were lots of little stands selling gallina regional soup. Gallina regional is regional chicken, which means that it was grown in someone's backyard instead of in a huge pen with other chickens. It's got especially tender meat and the soup is made with a TON of cilantro, lime, aji (spicy pepper), and noodles. It's just heavenly on a cold evening. Then we rented "High School Musical" and watched it until we fell asleep. And when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night, this is what I encountered:















Ojona the cat nestled up with a bunch of beer bottles. Ha!



This sign made me laugh. For those of you who read Spanish, you'll get it right away. For those of you who don't, well, beer in Spanish is cerveza. C-E-R-V-E-R-Z-A. I'm just saying.



















Food today:
breakfast: pb & j (I needed something normal)
lunch: ceviche
dinner: (still) leftover turkey.

Food yesterday:
breakfast: nothing
lunch: grilled fish, tacacho, Inca Cola
dinner: gallina regional soup

Get in the Spirit!

Fun Fact No. 3a: Tickets please! To get into a wedding, graduation party, or other private, organized event, you have to bring your entrance, food, and drink tickets. Without them you can´t get in, eat or drink. I guess enough people tried to scam brides and grooms so that this became a necessity. Ha!

Well, it´s Christmas Eve, which is basically Christmas day in the sense that it´s the Big Day. Tonight there´ll be a big ole family dinner, followed by toasting the holiday with champagne, followed by dancing all night long. I had a blast last year, and I hope to have a blast this year. Although this trip is going very well, I am very happy and getting a lot of work done, next Christmas I really want to spend with my Dad and brother. It´s terrific to be here with friends and Peruvian family, but I miss having Christmas in my country, with our Christmas carols, Christmas dinner (usually a Honey Baked ham in my family), and the Macy´s parade. Nonetheless, I am excited for this evening´s activities!

I am budgeting my time very well this time, and I´m getting a lot of work done and am still able to see friends. It helps that my friend Monica left me the keys to her apartment and I have a quiet place to go to do work, take a nap, or read. It´s a hip apartment in a quiet neighborhood, and the neighbors, Jorge from Cuba and Pancho from Lima are super sweet and they bring me whatever they´re cooking (and luckily, the Cuban is the primary cook in the household. Mmmmmm!!).

The best news is that my running is going well. Running really keeps me sane, and I think part of the reason last year was so tough was because I wasn´t running. I ran 17 miles yesterday (whew!) and I had a great run. It was really fantastic, even when I was hurting. There´s a nice, 25-meter pool really close to my house, so I went for a swim this morning to crosstrain and use those muscles that stiffened up so much last night in my sleep. But I feel really great. And it´s so nice to be in the sunshine! I´m putting on sunscreen often, and am only lightly tanned for the time being, but it does feel great to be in the sun sun sun!

Yesterday there was a chocolatada in my house. Nearly 100 kids and their moms showed up to be entertained by a (creepy) clown, (really loud) music, and hot chocolate. It was a warm, sunny day yesterday, so the hot chocolate was kind of weird, but it was good fun anyway.

In the meantime, happy holidays to all of you. Thank you for your continued support and love. I love you and miss you all very much.

Love,
Sparky.

Pizza face no more

Fun Fact No. 2a: Aguajes everywhere! A palm fruit only found in and around Iquitos, the famous aguaje, is small and covered in little tiny brown scales. You kind of rip the scales off with your teeth and then spit them out. There´s a fine layer of bright orange flesh around a big pit. It has a really distinct flavor that you either love or hate. And the pits are everywhere; I was hit by one on my motorcycle today.

When I got back to Austin in August, my skin broke out. Almost 30 and pizza face. Genevieve and I have the same problem, and we’re not sure why. It’s a crazy phenomenon. I’ve been in Peru for a mere three days and my skin is better than ever. Humidity? Sun? Motorcycle pollution? Who knows? But my zits have disappeared and my skin looks fantastic. And my hair isn’t doing too badly either! Maybe it’s the water. Hmmm…

My motorcycle is in the shop (working on finding that third gear) and I’ve been at Monica’s where it’s quiet and breezy, working on my chapter. Since my motorcycle isn’t up to par, I figured I should get some real work done anyway.

I went for my second run in Peru today. I went to the stadium where they have a track and I did my speed workout. It sucked. Let me just tell you, ick! The sun comes up so damn early here, and even though I was on the track at 6am, I was already roasticating. Stupid equator! Just kidding! I think this will definitely help me for the marathon.

Life in Iquitos is so far rather uneventful. And that’s the way we like it!

December 18

Well, it was tough. Seeing Victor’s family. His younger sister, Patricia, and his mom, Tania, are still just destroyed. When I saw Tania, she was silently crying as she sewed a dress for a neighbor. They spent all their savings on the funeral and now she has to work three times as much: giving pedagogy lectures at various conferences, teaching primary school, and sewing. Patri is only 15 and she took a part time job that she rushes off to after school. Victor’s 19^th birthday would have been this coming Saturday, so we’re having a picnic lunch at the cemetery. A strange thing to do, but it’s kind of celebratory. He loved ceviche, but it’s a bit pricy to pull off, so we’re doing a bbq instead. It should be interesting. Anyway, I talked to Patri and she said he left no note, he didn’t seem depressed, worried, anxious or anything. I have a friend who is a computer nerd, so we’re going to see if we can get him to hack Victor’s email to see if there might be some indication there. It’s just so senseless. And his mom is just a wreck. She isn’t your typical Amazonian mom. Most get pregnant really early and are young and kind of hands-off. This woman had her kids at 40 and 43 and is a respected pedagogue in the region. She’s really fantastic.

Victor had my motorcycle and it’s not in too bad a shape. It doesn’t seem to have third gear (boo hiss), but who needs third gear, right? Just kidding, I’m getting it fixed tomorrow. I forgot about the sun; I got a bit burned today, but then I went straight home for the waterproof, super expensive Burt’s Bees sunscreen I brought with me. I’m good and lathered up now.

Last night I had dinner with my dear friend Monica. She heads back to Spain for a few months on Thursday and it’s killing me! Every once and a while you meet someone with whom you have instant chemistry and it’s as if you’ve known each other for years. Monica is one of those people and how I missed her! We could have easily chatted way into the wee hours of the morning, but I had to run, so off to bed at 11pm.

Speaking of bed, look who visited me last night:

So disgusting. I’m not normally afraid of bugs, but you could HEAR this spider walking around. You’re not supposed to hear spiders. Ick.

I went for my first run in Peru this morning. From my house to the stadium, three times around the stadium, and back. About 4.5 miles. Man alive that cement does a number on my joints! Luckily tomorrow is a speed work out and it only costs about twenty cents to enter the stadium and use the fancy, squishy track.

Today’s meals:

Breakfast: papaya & strawberry smoothie. Not enough; I was famished until lunch.

Lunch: ceviche!!!!!!!!

Dinner: a fried egg and bread.

Teenage Suicide

Fun Fact No. 1a: Gut while you wait. Depending on how you're planning to cook your fish or turtle or caiman or whatever, they'll clean it and gut it. If you're making stew, it's cleaned one way. If you're frying it, it's cleaned another way. Etc.

Well, folks, I got into Iquitos last night at 10pm. I was supposed to get in at 7:25pm, but there was some crazy thunderstorm that dropped 12 inches/hour and so the flight was a bit delayed. I hung out with/took care of a little old lady named Laura who has Alzheimer's, most likely early stages. It was a bit weird but she was sweet so it didn't matter. I can't believe someone let her fly by herself - not only is she just OLD and can't walk very well, but we kind of adopted each other. Here's a brief transcription (and translation) of our nearly three hour conversation:

L: Hello, miss. What's your name?

K: My name is Kathryn, Laura.

L: Where are you from? I live on Jose Calvo Street, near Moore Avenue. I'm kind of forgetful (olvidona).

K: I'm from the US. And I live in Morona Cocha when I'm in Iquitos.

L: Morona? That is a lovely lagoon. What's your name?

K: My name is Kathryn.

L: Where are you from? I live on Jose Calvo Street, near Moore. I'm kind of forgetful.

And so forth. It made me a little sad for her, and it was tough to stay patient. But she was very sweet, and would occasionally offer or ask for other kinds of information. Like sometimes she sells papayas in the market in Iquitos. And that her husband died a few years ago and she likes being a single gal again. And that her son was going to pick her up from the airport. And pick her up he did, although he looked about her same age.

And so I got in, grabbed a mototaxi to my family's house in Morona, and surprised Mario Sr., the dad of the family. He had no idea I was coming, and we had a great time just chatting and hugging. We have a really great relationship, and it was great to just be with him with nobody else around. Eventually Mario Jr. and his girlfriend Veronica came in to say hi, but by then I was beat and hit the sack.

Today I went to market with Veronica Meder, Mario's younger sister, and her boyfriend Jean Carlos. I forgot about the hustle and bustle of this market, and I often wonder: how is it that with approximately 1,000 stands selling the same fish / vegetables / toothbrushes / alligator or whatever that people can end up feeding their families? And how is it that the competition works? I'm learning quite a bit about capitalism as a new idea / ideology / practice here in Iquitos, but some days it hits me more than others. These people wouldn't stand a chance in Austin. It's pretty amazing. I had ponche, egg whites whipped with vanilla and a little cream and topped off with boiling masaato, fermented yuca beer. It's so SO filling (and rather sinful) but delicious.

And now to the slightly depressing observation of the day: death is everywhere and no one's sensitive to it. I think it's cultural, probably because they're so darned used to it, but I still can't get used to it. Everyone knows that I left my motorcycle with my friend Victor who killed himself in October. And this is their response / interaction / commentary to me:

a. Dude, I heard that guy you gave your moto to offed himself. I think he was gay.
b. So did you ever find out why Victor killed himself? Did he leave a note?
c. Did you know that Victor hung himself? Weird, huh.
d. People are always killing themselves these days. So what are you going to do with the moto?

Just not exactly what I would say (or have ever said) about someone's recently deceased friend. Tact and sensitivity are of the utmost importance in the US about these things, and these are not things you just say. But I guess in some ways it's OK; death is normal, a part of life, and it happens all the time. Suicides are far too common and no one can be in the head of the person who's committed suicide, so who are we to judge? I'm definitely thinking too much because I'm reading Murakami, and he definitely messes with your head. Regardless, it's kind of scary to figure out how I should react to these comments. So strange. And I haven't been able to track down Victor's mom and sister yet, so it makes it even more strange.

Other than that bit of weirdness, I still feel good about being here. I feel refreshed and ready to conquer my challenges. I go for my first run in Peru tomorrow, and I'm excited about it. I see Monica tonight (can't WAIT!) and I saw Cesar and Graciela yesterday in Lima. I had fun with Lissette's family and now I'll have fun with my Iquitos family. I'll upload some pictures soon! In the meantime, see you soon.

Oh, and I'll end every post with a food journal so you can see what I eat!
Today:
breakfast - fried chicken, bread, watered down coffee out of the can
lunch - majas soup (jungle rat); duck and yellow rice (usually at lunch there is entrada, or the first course, and then segunda, the main course)
dinner - hasn't happened yet, but I'll order ravioli from the pizza joint Monica and I are going to tonight.

Milky Way & iPods

Well folks, I made it. After a rather short trip (it felt like anyway!), I am here in sunny Lima, Peru where summer is just getting started. It has been a wonderful trip so far, and I have been here for less than 24 hours! Here´s the lo-down:

I was horribly anxious the past few days, getting ready for the trip and nervous about being in Peru again. This past year held so SO many ups and downs that I really had a hard time reconciling a return trip so soon after I left. But there are some things I need to take care of regarding research, dissertation, friends, motorcycles, and life. I am still a little nervous about actually getting to Iquitos, mostly because the reality of Victor´s death will most likely hit hard, and that is kind of scary. Anyway, thanks to dear, dear friends (Karla, K.C., Genevieve, April!), I got everything packed, organized and out the door.

But I haven´t even begun at the beginning! Yesterday morning I woke up at 5:30am not to catch a plane, but to run 14 miles. I ran the first four with Karla and April, the next three with just April, and the last seven with the light drizzle that actually made for a delightful run. You would think running 14 miles and then getting on a few airplanes for 8 hours wouldn´t be a great idea, but actually it was JUST what the doctor ordered. The run was wonderful, then I made French toast with April, baked some pound cake, and headed off to the airport. My check-in went relatively smoothly (although I had to leave behind Christmas Crackers and some sidewalk chalk to lighten the load), and off to Houston.

In Houston I had a delicious sundried tomato pesto pasta salad (note: back in the day, airports only offered nasty Chinese or greasy fried chicken. This is truly and improvement) and then off to Lima. The flight was great: I read an entire book, watched the movie Hairspray, and caught up with the latest Harper´s.

I got to Lima early (at about 11:15pm) where my friend Lissette´s parents were waiting for me. We cruised home, shot the bull, and went to bed. I slept for nine hours without waking up, dreams, nightmares, having to pee, NOTHIN´! I slept better than I´ve slept for some time.

Today I woke up, had fresh-squeezed papaya juice and hung out with Wilder & Wilder, Lissette´s dad and brother. We went to eat lunch at a delicious seafood joint where I ate (surprise surprise) ceviche! Yum. Then I called a few friends and later this afternoon I´m having coffee with my friend (and potential dissertation committee member), Raul.


A few observations about this trip so far:
1. At the Houston airport, there were Apple snack machines. Seriously. Swipe your credit card, punch in the right number, the coil moves, an iPod drops down. I stood in front of the machine for about 15 minutes, partially in awe, partially in disgust. I couldn´t figure out what I should feel; right next to it was a real snack machine with Milky Way & Reeses.

2. Arriving here, it felt like I never left. Really! I felt comfortable and good, and that was a relief. I know now that this is meant to be- I´m meant to be in Peru so soon after I left. Also, I feel confident about myself, my non-Peruvianness, and my Peruvianness. I grew and changed quite a bit when I was here, and it was a hard road. But now I want to own it; I don´t want Peru to get the best of me. I want to give of myself only on MY terms and I feel good about that. I am happy, comfortable, and confident.

3. I feel like this whole task (dissertating, researching, travelling, running, visiting) is just less daunting. I feel less overwhelmed than I did even yesterday morning. I really feel like I can do it all, do it all well, and be proud of what I will have accomplished.

4. I almost cried on the way over because of something weird and kind of lame: I love running. I am convinced that I had such an uneventful, comfortable trip because I had a nice, long run before I got on the plane. I am so, SO privileged to have found such an embracing, engaging sport and to be able to call myself a runner! Michael once said that we are endurance athletes. I totally laughed him off saying that I´m just a slow runner. Now I get it! Hooray and thanks be to God for Running and Good Friends!

I´ll keep you posted as the days wear on. Wish me well!

"May-waj ees wat bwings us togethawww too dei"

Yes, that's a Princess Bride quote. And no, I'm not getting married. And yes, I still have this issue that comes with a United Statesish marriage that I can't reconcile: the last name. I wish I could just get over it, let people do their thing, respect it and move on. But no! I continue to flinch, cringe, and generally pull out my hair (!) at the prospect of the consideration of a name change. Women changing their names back in the day happened because they were effectively sold (or bribed) into marriage; they became their husband's property and had to adopt the symbol of his identity. In Quebec, it's illegal for people to change their names when they marry in order to support gender equality. In most of Latin America and parts of Europe, no one changes their names when they get married, and their kids get one last name from each parent (and official forms allow for that). These days you can pick which last name to pass on and its order (which one comes first). In California, a man sued the state for gender discrimination because the process for him to change his last name to his wife's was so complicated and difficult. He won. But there are only seven states where both partners can legally change their last names when they marry without financial repercussions.

If I ever get married, I will be considered an "mature" bride: I'll be well into my thirties (or beyond), and I will have spent a good chunk of my life as Kathryn Metz. Change my name? Perhaps to include my mom's last name (Ledoux) in the whole shebang. Maybe if I go into the Witness Protection Program. Or if I become a rockstar (Kathryn Metz doesn't really work. I need something like Axl Rose. Well, not that same one, but you get my gist.). Point being, I yam what I yam.

But why can't I just respect women's decisions to change their last names? I wish I could just let it go but it really angers me. I understand a couple wanting unity, but how about a combination of both names (creating a new one from the two, or hyphenating or just both adding the other person's name to theirs)? Or a new name altogether? The New York Times has an interesting discussion of the whole situation here.

I just get so frustrated - especially by college-educated women - when women even consider the name change. Whether you have an attachment to your name (perhaps because of heritage or cultural reasons) or not (maybe you don't know where your name comes from or don't care), it seems silly to take a man's name just because that's what's been done. I am my own person, my own woman, my own Kathryn Metz and I just don't see the sense in becoming someone else.

HOWEVER I am trying (learning!) to be more OK with this regular occurrence. And for the record, several of my progressive, liberal, feminist girlfriends have taken their husband's last names, so obviously I have to be OK with it. And I'm getting there. Little by little. Grrrrr....

5 days & counting

So...Peru again. I leave on Friday for a month and I've already been having anxiety dreams.

This time I vow
1. to appropriately budget my time
2. to train religiously for the marathon, even mid-jungle city
3. to only spend time with people who love me and will not abuse my friendship
4. to drink lots of water & stay hydrated
5. to stay focused.

Holiday Spirit

So last night, I had a lovely dinner with my girls, the primary motivation being the despedida of our dear friend K.C. who is moving to Houston. I still get together every year with my old roommates and best girlfriends from college, and we had our last reunion on my birthday weekend. I have another set of non-roommates but best girlfriends from graduate school, and honestly, that chemistry is rare: when four or five people get along so well with each other that they can talk for hours and hours and never bore.

I am fortunate enough to be part of two such groups. The first is my 702 girls from Bowling Greenn. We lived together in some combination at 702 E. Wooster Street for several years. We all knew each other independently of the house (from the dorms, or the music building, the art building, or whathaveyou), but we all got along (and still do, nearly ten years later) just wonderfully and we are each other's support network: through family deaths, miscarriages, marriages, break-ups, children, new homes, old homes...the whole nine yards.

My Austin ladies are women with whom I trained for the Chicago Marathon. We also knew each other independently (through the music building, through other friends or whathaveyou) but we are also each other's support network just two years later: through family deaths (still), break-ups, new boyfriends, new homes, old homes, etc.

Women need each other. I don't mean to be the sexist feminist whatever, but it's true: we need the support and love and nurturing that only we can give. It's not to say that there aren't loving, tender, supporting, nurturing men out there, but it's just not the same. It's actually encoded in our DNA in ways that it isn't in men. And thank goodness that I have these women, especially during the holiday season, which I love, but it really sucks without my mom.

29 and 2/365ths

Well, it has come and gone: another birthday, another birthday weekend (I have a knack for extending the birthday celebrations for a long time), and another crisis. Although I must admit that the actual age-turning was rather anti-climactic. I remember having a tough time with 27. And then 28 didn't really count because it was in another language (and veinte-ocho doesn't have the same ring as twenty-eight). And so I was kind of expecting a WHOA! 29! But really it hasn't impacted me at all. Maybe I was ready for it? I am looking forward to 30 because the 20s have been generally rough. The only really good ones were 20, 21, 24, and 25. The rest were just hard. But here we go anyway!

I had a wonderful weekend in Columbus. I got to blow glass with Kami, talk for hours with Allison, Erica, Arlie, and Anne, drink wine with Jody and Jaye, eat with my brother and my dad and Joan, and be in cold weather and not die. (Cold weather doesn't help my Reynaud's...bad circulation in my hands and feet. It hurts a lot.) And I partook in several of these activities with several people...the wine was not only with Jody, and the talking was not just with the 702 girls (we all lived together at 702 E. Wooster back in Bowling Green). It was just wonderful.















And then I got back to Austin (and to this glorious weather, thank goodness!) where I had a lovely birthday dinner with Genevieve, Sonia, Karla, and Anita followed by lots of cake and beer with just about everyone. It was a terrific time. I really enjoyed myself. I felt really loved. And I know that I am!

Perfectionism

So here I am, head to head with perfectionism once again. This is everyone's struggle (well, for sure anyone who is in the remarkably self-esteem debilitating field of academia) and it is taking its toll. I just need to suck it up and WRITE.

Yesterday would have been my mom's 60th birthday (happy b-day, ma!) and I wonder what we would have done. Probably a nice dinner and a yummy, quadruple chocolate cake with her best friend, my brother, and me and maybe the neighbors, too. Genevieve asked if I would have gone up there, but I don't think I would be down here if she were still here. Kind of like choose-your-own-adventure, who know what could have or should have or would have happened.

And I'm almost the big 2-9. Not quite 30, but closer than ever. I finally feel about 23 or so, which is a big leap from my oft felt 17. And everyone's married with kids... As Michael said when I told him I would be getting a cell phone (one of these days soon!), "Satan? Yes, you might want to turn the thermostat up a bit. It'll be freezing over pretty soon down there."

Anyway, I'm getting ready for Peru (mentally more than anything), getting ready for my birthday (emotionally), getting ready for Columbus on Thursday (in every way), getting ready for a fellowship app (academically), and getting ready to finish out another Tuesday. Hooray for Tuesdays! Every week there's a new one and it's hopefully better than the last. I'm the world's worst philosopher.

And here's Sparky: (I decided to quit fighting it and let the Curly Sue take over)

Ticket to Ride

So I just bought my ticket to go back to Iquitos for a whopping 31 days. From December 15 to January 14, I'll be kicking it in my old territory and here are some fears / reservations I have about this trip.
1. That there will be drama. All the drama from this past year is enough to make me never want drama again in my life. I don't want to deal with any of that crap. I prefer the non-dramatic way of life.

2. That I won't get enough dissertation work done. It's so hard to get stuff done there in general, let alone sitting down in a quiet place to get actual work done.

3. That I won't get the follow-up research done to the degree I need it to be done.

4. That I'll be overwhelmed by sadness at being in Iquitos without Victor (a good friend who recently committed suicide). I just can't imagine life there without him - we spoke nearly every day for half a year.

5. That I'll get overwhelmed by constant performing - there are some weddings, a few holiday concerts, and a mass or two that I'll surely have to play, taking more time from work. But I do have to spend time with friends, right?

And some things that excite me about this coming trip:
1. That I will have learned to say no to drama.

2. That I'll get some great research in.

3. To see my wonderful people there!

4. My motorcycle. Period.

5. To play with Explosion again. Woo-hoo!

So here we go again. This is a very finite trip - just a month. The whole thing will fly by so quickly, and who knows when I'll get another chance to get down there, so I need to take advantage of it! Here we go again!

Fall Friends

Well, the stress level as of late has been rather elevated. First it was preparing everything in preparation for the conference (getting schoolwork finished and out of the way, etc.), then it was the actual conference (mentally and physically exhausting), then it was a visit from my good friend Iñaki from Spain (stressful only in that it was back-to-back with the conference), and now a long Saturday at the Paper Place (did you know that it's Christmas already?), followed by maybe some dissertation writing (which I haven't done in over a week and a half). So a bit stressed out. But I did hot yoga last night with my friend Karla, and that felt great (especially since part of my stress has come from the fact that I haven't been able to run in two weeks due to a stressed IT band in my hip). I HATE not being able to run. It really kills me.

Columbus was great, although exhausting, for a few reasons. The biggest one was that I got to see the following wonderful people:
My dad
My brother
Erika, my brother's girlfriend
My best friend, Allison and her little boy Lucas
My dear friend Erica and her little girl Giovanna
Dan Sharp
Emily Pinkerton
The Clan from BGSU (including Mary Natvig and Carol Hess)

It was such a joy to see all of them. I was invigorated by encouraging friendships. And equally invigorating was the crisp, fall weather that yielded photos like this one:




















And, of course, Halloween. This year's was especially great because I wasn't here last year for Halloween and also my good friend Inaki was here. We had lots of fun!

Home-ish

So the Society for Ethnomusicology conference is in Columbus, Ohio this year and I'm going. I'm not presenting a paper this year (thank goodness!) but I'm excited to see "conference friends" who I only see at these things, listen to new papers, network a bit, look for jobs (!) and perhaps most important and exciting, see my dad, brother, and best friend. I have been excited about this trip for a while, and it's about to happen (I leave on Wednesday). I miss my dad and brother a lot and I'm not sure why. Of course I love them, but honestly, I see them a few times a year and that's usually good enough for me. But I always see them in Texas; I rarely go to Ohio because of money, time, and taste (I prefer Austin). Columbus is perhaps the closest thing to a hometown that I have, even though I've only lived there for a cumulative three years. But still. It's a hip, artsy town with nice people, smaller cars than Texas, and (getting) good food. It's pretty. And my dad lives there, and I'm really just thrilled to see him. It's scary when a parent grows older, and to watch him change makes me nervous. And maybe I'm more neurotic about it than most because I'm already one parent down (my mom died in May of 2001), but I really want to treasure this time with my dad: we're both adults, we have similar interests but we're different enough that we're learning a lot about each other and we're both coming to terms with the other person (as in, we're no longer trying to change each other; we are who we are). I think this is a big step in a family relationship and since my family is just my Dad and my brother (I have a great uncle who I see every couple of years and then there's my mom's brother and sister, but they're not nice and I haven't seen them in who knows how long). So here's hoping for a fun (and productive) trip!

Natural Disasters

So as a kid, I always thought, well, if there's a place in the world where there aren't any natural disasters, I should move there and then there will be no threat of tsunami, tornadoes, or whatever. When we lived in New Orleans, there were floods. In California, there were regular earthquakes. In Minnesota, tornadoes. In Rhode Island, hurricanes. Chicago and Ohio, tornadoes. In Texas...well, there are floods, droughts, and tornadoes, not to mention coastal areas plagued by hurricanes. In coastal Peru there are earthquakes, in the Amazon there is the occasional drought. Safe? Well, you're never really safe. But I always used to think you could escape it. I also thought that the word approximate meant exact. So I guess you live and learn.

On another note, if you want to be kind of creeped out, watch the claymation movie The Adventures of Mark Twain. I watched it when I was a kid and it was pretty scary. I watched some clips on youtube today. It's still scary. And according to the IMDB, was banned from television in 1985.

Another delightfully creepy childhood film is Watcher in the Woods, actually a Disney movie, but pretty scary.

Slated for Destruction

Well, folks, this is my delayed post in honor of Blog Action Day, wherein bloggers are encouraged to somehow address a particular theme. This year's theme is the environment, and what a difficult theme to write about! Whenever I start thinking about the environment, my mind immediately goes to destruction and strife, melted ice caps, depleting fresh water sources, exploited lands and indigenous peoples, petroleum extraction, blah blah blah. So for today's blog, while titled Slated for Destruction, I don't want to belabor the obvious, that 98% of the Peruvian Amazon is slated for petroleum extraction, including the largest national reserve in Peru. Instead, I'd like to take a moment to praise efforts being made to limit this fact by good friends of mine involved in good projects in Iquitos.

My old roommate Cesar Gil works for the World Wildlife Fund, where he heads the Indigenous Education committee. Cesar develops curriculum designed to raise awareness among indigenous children who live in the Pacaya Samiria Reserve and how they can best manage their resources and keep poachers, petroleum companies, and loggers away from their land. It's a roots project that has impressive, longterm goals and its focus - young children - is truly the best way to truly make changes.

My dear friend Monica Hernandez works for a Spanish cooperative as a forestry engineer. She, too, works with indigenous communities in the Pacaya Samiria Reserve where she helps them realize their own longterm goals from sustenance farming to reforestation.

Sandrine Forzy is a French political scientist who is bringing the possibility of fair trade to indigenous communities in the Reserve, so that they might be less dependent on unfair, commercial offers from outside, capitalist forces to which they are largely unaccustomed.

Graciela Blanco operates a planned parenthood / sex education program in the reserve in order to increase the quality of life of those who live in the reserve and also to help cut down populations that are putting pressure on their environment.

Mario Meder Seretti owns a lumber yard, but he has recently made the conscious (and financially difficult) decision to not purchase endangered hardwoods, and to deal only with sellers who are from heavily forested, secondary-growth areas, so as to not endanger primary growth forest.


You'll notice that a good number of these good deeds are directed toward people and there is good reason for that. If you can change the way people think from an early age (imagine what would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of the Bush babies when they were only five years old), you can change the world. I was raised to recycle. It sounds silly, but I have a horrible pang of guilt any time I use Styrofoam, or any time I throw away something recyclable. I have friends who were not raised like me and don't understand the importance of small actions. I am grateful to my parents for having instilled in me a reverent respect for the earth, shown to me through behaviors, canoe trips, bird books, and gardens.

Anyway, despite the fact that the Amazon is slated for destruction (I was really just trying to get your attention), there is hope.

Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner

So my good friend Michael gave me a collection of short stories by Alan Sillitoe for Christmas a few years ago and what a treat it was. It's called The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Runner and it's title story is nonchalant, narrated by a juvenile delinquent who recognizes how fortunate he is to be able to run every day as part of his schooling in a crappy JD facility. And the most perfect quote....

"It's a treat, being a long-distance runner, out in the world by yourself with not a soul to make you bad-tempered or to tell you what to do."

It's really true. While I suffer from perfectionism in most areas of my life, which in turn cause anxiety, stress, or exhaustion, running isn't one of them. Running is the only place where my biggest competitor is myself, I'm not proving anything to anyone, I don't have to do it if I don't want to, it's not a requirement and I certainly don't have to write a dissertation about it or because of it or in order to do it. I run because I love the mental challenge. I run because I love how I feel after a long run, tired, with nothing physical to show for it but a few aches, but knowing I ran 8 miles today. Physically, most peope could be runners. Maybe not marathon runners, but they could be runners. Mentally, I think that few could. It's tough to convince your body that it should and will finish this run. To convince your lungs that they'll get a change to breathe at the end of this one. To convince the jelly that your legs have become that they'll get a chance to just walk if they just hang in there a little bit longer.

I was a glassblower, an artist. I am striving to be an ethnomusicologist and a scholar and a teacher. I have always been a decent / good student. But in all these areas, there is pressure to do better, publish more, get a better grade, be more creative. In running, there is no pressure at all. I just want to start and to finish, nothing more, nothing less.

And so here's a lovely portrait that my very talented photographer friend, Rhonda Turnbough (www.rhondaturnbough.com) took of my very talented cellist and running friend, Karla Hamelin (soon to have www.karlahamelin.com) with me and my very talented songwriter, cellist, and marketing genius friend, Genevieve Frisch. In dedication to long-distance running and what a joy it is. I am grateful to be a long-distance runner!




















www.rhondaturnbough.com

One Page at a Time

So I am in the boat that many before me have sailed, and many after me will sail. And there are also those who have walked the plank or dived off the side, or just plain drowned. I will not be one of them; I will sail the turbulent high seas until I reach land or at least an island, even if it is a swampy, acidic one a la The Life of Pi. I figure if I get to Manhatten, I'll be golden and if I get to, say, Delaware or some such place, I can live with that. All this mumbo jumbo is, of course, my dissertation analogy. It's a big boat with few crew members, but so far, it's just cloudy weather. And by the way, in case you are wondering, I really am this dorky in real life. Yup, this ole land lubber (whose shoulders are too narrow to be a competitive back or breaststroker) is undertaking the possible yet very difficult. And she's going to do it!

My good friend Karla is requiring of me one page a day. Be it notes, actual chapter writing or whathaveyou, I must turn in one page per day to Karla via email, although I am exempt from Saturdays because on Saturdays, I am in a special kind of liminal place aka purgatory. Ok, it's just retail, but really, same difference. I'm on a roll! So far, two pages. But I just got started, so I anticipate a large sheath by the end of the semester.

On another note, I've been dreaming of Peru. Iquitos, my motorcycle, my friend Victor, my family there, Monica...it's hard to not romanticize the whole thing and it's also hard not to just write it off as one big floppy learning experience. I miss it. I really do. And it's funny because I gave a little thing with Michael for colloquium this past Friday about field work. And someone asked, why Peru? Why this project? Why did you choose it? And it really hit me: it chose me. I don't think I would've stuck it all out, from the first jungle hells to the urban craziness if it weren't that Iquitos kept pulling me back to its snare. And yet - kind of like in that Almodovar film, Atame, deep down I have grown to love it, and I miss it a lot. I guess this is a partnership for a long time. There's no question that I love my project topic - who knew I'd become a cumbia junkie? Regardless, here we go! Here's hoping I don't get sick of it while writing my dissertation, and here's hoping I don't go into debt while charging the upcoming trip on the ole credit card! Cheers!

Victor

This is my dear friend Victor Huertas in Iquitos. Victor killed himself two Sundays ago at home in Iquitos. Victor was one of my only actual friends in Iquitos - one of the only people who was eternally loyal, sweet, caring and loving. He's Jewish and had been preparing to go to Israel in December to take advantage of dual citizenship and free education. He was admitted to a prestigious literature program at the state school in Iquitos and is a terrific, outgoing student on student council with lots of friends. I met Victor under crazy circumstances: it was his step-dad who sold me my crappy motorcycle and it was he who sought me out to tell me the truth about what had happened and who eagerly volunteered to serve as my witness in my case against the jerk who took the commission, despite danger of being beaten up or blackmailed. He always sent me text messages telling me simply that he loved me and supported me and was glad to have met me. We had all kinds of adventures together and his sweet family, mom Tania and sister Patricia, always invited me to dinner or would just call to say hello. He was a dear friend who I didn't tell him enough how much I valued his friendship and how much I really loved him. And the worst part is: he was just a kid. 18 years old - he would be 19 in December. I left my motorcycle to him because I trusted him profoundly. And while I started off being devastated at the news of his death, now I'm pissed. I guess these are the steps. I've known people to kill themselves before, but never so dear a friend. I love him very much.

Resolutions

So here I am in Austin, allegedly writing a dissertation at Flightpath, my favorite coffee shop in town. It’s quiet, well-lit, and has big tables. My loyal comps study buddy now turned dissertation writing buddy, Jen Smull, is sitting across from me typing diligently away while I add another blog to my desperately outdated e-journal that – as I look back on it – served as some sort of therapy throughout the last year or so, for which I am thankful.

I started writing up some notes for my dissertation and it became a rant, an angry, emotional rant about bad people in Iquitos, life goals, and what it might be like to live and teach in Minnesota, in the heart of that which I fear: COLD. I don’t like cold because I have circulation problems in my hands and my feet and the cold just bursts through my body and gets to my core and I can’t focus on anything else when I’m horridly cold. And then I started thinking that cold is kind of like anxiety for me. It comes out of nowhere and knocks me flat on my back. And I wallow in it instead of grabbing another scarf and heating up the tea kettle. I guess my analogy makes sense to me, and perhaps to few others, but as some of you here in Austin have come to know, I am profoundly changed. I am growing up and maturing (perhaps later than most, but better late than never. Take that, Peter Pan!) and learning about the many things that LIFE has to offer. My friendships are still profoundly deep but I am having a hard time reconciling the new Kathryn with the old one. As I begin (or pretend to begin) this new phase: the post-Peru, dissertation, new-Austin, old-friends, revised-life phase, I’m realizing a few things about myself that, be they new things or old, I want to change or keep in place. I feel like it’s New Year’s and I’m making my resolutions, even though I never make resolutions at New Year’s because I’m always afraid of the guilt that might come if I break them.

I vow to

1. be a better friend

2. not let stress dictate who I am

3. love myself and my body regardless

4. budget my time and allow myself free time

5. downsize: things, clutter, stress

This is my new resolution. I’m learning about mindfulness right now, and I hope that it makes a big difference in my life. I want to be aware of myself, my surroundings, my emotions, and my goals and expectations.

And while we’re on the subject, did I mention that I’m growing up? New mattress (yee-ha!), new line of credit, new shoes, new paint in my newly peaceful bedroom, and soon to have new car (soon!). I see my best girlfriends from college in the fall and I’m excited to be me with them in their space. It’s fun to grow up, even if it sucks and it’s hard. You live and learn, right?

On lighter notes, I went to Austin City Limits music festival a week ago with my friends Genevieve and Colin. That was truly wonderful and exciting. Plus I went to a taping of Austin City Limits (the PBS TV show)…Regina Spector. That was terrific – the best live music venue in Austin.

This past Friday I had one of the best days of my life! I woke up early and ran. Then I went to Portuguese class. Then I rode my bike down to Barton Springs where I swam in the crystal clear springs and nearly choked because I was laughing with absolute JOY. Then I had a margarita with Genevieve at Shady Grove. Then I rode my bike home and went to the movies with Colin and Michael. Then we got fancy pizza and shot the bull. Then I slept for 10 hours. It was an exciting, active, sunny, beautiful, happy day, and while it doesn’t seem like there was anything in particular that was out of the ordinary, I felt SO good and happy all day long. It was nice.

Howdy!

So now that I've been adjusting to life back in the heat and humidity of Austin, I've been thinking about how much I just LOVE this city! How fortunate I am to live here! While I've mainly been lying low (including working at the Paper Place again - don't kill me!), I have visited the bats, South Congress, and the Parlor. My dad was in town for a long weekend (he leaves tomorrow morning) and we've been squeezing in all kinds of fun including a visit with...Kinky Friedman! Now, any Texas-lover or animal-lover should take a road trip out to the Utopia Rescue Ranch anyway. Kinky lives on 500 acres of gorgeous hill country, with stunning views, trickling streams, deer, cedars, the whole nine yards. But he also started, with the help of friends Cousin Nancy and Tony, a dog rescue ranch that is really a dream. They rescue all kinds of different dogs with different stories and MAN have they got it good here at the ranch! Huge pens with trees and swimming pools, daily walks down to the creek to bathe, lots of food and shade and love. It's really inspiring. And I want to take home about 10 of the 50-odd dogs that they keep there! Nancy and Tony are two of the most loving, sweet, caring people who really have hearts for this rescue work despite the financial stress and emotional stress. Apparently the ranch started in Utopia, Texas but with some complaints from the neighbors, Kinky welcomed them to his huge ranch. All in all, it's a terrific, peaceful, beautiful place. Dad and I had visited last year and we were just dropping in to say hi and to see how things were going and it just so happened that my dad's hero since 1971 just got back from grocery shopping. So we hauled on over the half mile to Kinky's trailer and sure enough, there was the man himself.
Basically, my dad's dream came true. And there he was...in the flesh.


















And so it was that Roger Metz got to play with dogs and meet Kinky Friedman all in one fell swoop.

Family

There was a pretty horrible earthquake in Peru last night. Its major impact was felt in Lima and south of Lima in Ica. I was able to get in touch with some friends in Iquitos who were able to contact people in Lima. The thing is that the phones were down, and it's tough to get in touch with anyone. I have some good friends in Ica, and I'm pretty worried. So far my peeps in Lima seem to be doing OK


.......................................


"Family is the most important. Sometimes it's the one you're born into and sometimes it's the one you make yourself."
-Carrie Bradshaw

She may not be a famous philosopher, or she may not even exist for that matter, but Carrie Bradshaw was right on with this observation.

Before I left for Peru, I was frantic, scared, panicky, and frustrated, not to mention anxious, irritable, and just plain nuts. Before I left for Peru, my friends bent over backwards to make my departure go that much smoother. Helping me sell my car, putting in my hardwood floors with me, assembling a bookcase, bringing me dinner, listening to me when I cried and helping me pack my bags, my friends did for me what few people would even do for their family. Getting back from Peru, after a long, challenging, and adventurous year, my friends forgot that I was not there for them for 11 months and yet they still continue to help, listen, support, and love me. What have I done to deserve this? Very little, frankly, and yet their outpouring support makes my life just so much better. I have a very small family: a brother, a dad, and a great uncle and aunt. I have cousins (I think 3) but I don't know them or their last names. I actually don't even know where they live. So, as Ms. Bradshaw noted, family is the most important. And in my case, for the family that lies beyond Dad and Tim, it's the one I make for myself. And I am blessed.

My friend Karla said that the average American makes 12 (same as the number of apostles of good ole J.C.) lasting, sustaining friendships in their lifetime. I think that was probably meant for the average American who doesn't move every 3 to 4 years and who probably went to only 1 or 2 gradeschools as opposed to 10, but still, when I think about those lasting friendships that will last me beyond Bowling Green, Austin, or Iquitos, I am so SO lucky. The quality of my friends is extraordinary, and I wonder if God will ever give me a chance to be half as wonderful to them as they are to me.

So that's that. Basically, being back in the United states has had its ups and its downs. The major downer being that I had a pretty bad stomach thing for about 4 days and that stunk, but the major upper being that I am once again in the company of my nearest and dearest. Dissertation be damned, and the pressure to publish too, because there are far more important things in life. I'm going to get funded, I'm going to finish my dissertation, I'm going to get a job. Of this much, I am sure. I don't know how it's all going to work out, but I know I can (and will) do it. And I think you all know why. :)

Falling Up

Fun Fact No. 75: Crying is bad. In the US when you cry, people generally let you do it. In Peru, they always say no no no no no, don't cry! It kind of stresses them out a bit.

Sooo...I'm baaaaaack! I got back yesterday at 9pm and Genevieve picked me up from the airport (greeting me with wine and flowers) and hauled my enormous load home and up the 3 flights of stairs. To greet me and to assist in the 2007 Gigantic Suitcase Hauling Games were lovely friends and neighbors Selina and Erin and then K.C. came over for some wine and catching up. Despite my exhaustion, I didn't want them to go; I think living in a noisy city with roommates has made me a bit nervous about the closed in solo-living apartment thing again. But I really can't even believe that I'm here. It was so SO good to see my girls that I just didn't want them to leave but I really felt that I've only been gone a week. It's been nearly 11 months. I'm not sure how this adjustment period is going to go, but I hope it goes well.

A few things I noticed right away:
1. I don't stand out. It's fabulous: there's a million other white, peachy, brown, black, cream, toffee, coffee and other colored people here. No one looks at me twice!

2. It's quiet. Almost too quiet. My apartment has no noises. At all! No roosters, no motorcycles, no ladies outside my door yelling that they have papaya or fish to sell.

3. It's HUMID. You'd think living 2 degrees south of the equator in the middle of the Amazon would be humid, but Austin humidity is suffocating. And they said it's been cool lately! Back to wimp mode.

4. Too much stuff. I have lived without so much of my stuff (and I'm a packrat by the way) that I can't believe I have so much of it. It was a struggle to not just throw everything out last night.

My apartment is cleaner than ever (Omar and Marcela - you are absolute DOLLS! Thank you for everything!) and they put in linoleum floors yesterday. It looks terrific and it is nice to walk barefoot on the new floors.

The last few days in Iquitos were kind of stressful. I just couldn't wrap my head around leaving and I was in and out of weird moods. My poor friend Nico was so patient with me despite the nuttiness. It was really a strange time.

Friday was my going away party - nearly 100 people in my house dancing like crazy fools until 5am. It was so good to have people from all different parts of my life in Iquitos in one place at the same time - my roommates, my family from my old house, the boys who work at the lumber store, my neighbors, my students, Mario's college friends, my foreign friends, etc. Everyone got along marvelously and danced, danced, danced!

Saturday was just last minute errands and sheer exhaustion. Saturday night my family, two roommates, and Zeudy and Nico and I all went to dinner at this pizza joint near downtown and then went dancing at Berimbau, a local discoteca until 4am.

Sunday was breakfast with my friends Nancy and Fernando, lunch at my friend Gabel's house and then to the airport with my student Scarlett and her family.

My plane was delayed a good hour and so all the people who came to the airport to see me off hung out and talked and talked and laughed. When the time came to leave, I was able to hold myself together, quite surprisingly. Maybe it was because Mario and Dina came with me to Lima and I could hold their hands. The tears were shed but not with the quantity I anticipated.
We got to Lima and had to go to Lissette's house to pick up a suitcase that I already dropped off a few months ago and then to Dina's sister's house on the other side of town. We ended up getting to bed at midnight only to wake up at 3am to get to the airport by 3:30 to wait in the check in line until 5 to hang out until 5:30 to say goodbye to get to the plane to leave at 6:30. It was kind of traumatizing to say goodbye to Mario and Dina, but I survived and I had a remarkable peace about leaving - cheesy but true: I think it's time to go home. I really feel like it's the right time.

And now it's 7:45am, I've slept less than 12 hours in the past 4 days and I'm writing the blog anyway. I was having a hard time sleeping beyond 6:30 in Iquitos and I guess it translated. Or maybe I'm nervous about being back. Or maybe I'm just hungry. But it's breakfast tacos this morning, kids!

Love to all and I'll see you soon.

TGIF...I think

Fun Fact No. 74: Cop on every corner. If they did this in Austin, I bet it would work. For those who are hard pressed to follow traffic laws, the government has placed 2 cops on nearly every corner in the most heavily congested areas. These people are BRUTAL and they stick to the same corners for weeks at a time, disappear, and then reappear when you least expect them to. Sneaky but it works!

Fun Fact No. 75: Serving with Love, Faith, and Science. This is the motto of the best (and most expensive) health clinic in tow. If you can believe it, it´s pentacostal. I´m generally anti-pentacostal for various reasons, but who knew that they would be such good doctors? And what a cool line: love, faith, and science.


So it´s Friday and I know that most of you who know me won´t believe it, but my bags are packed, my room is clean, and my clothes are washed. Impressive, huh? I don´t leave until Sunday, so y´all should be REALLY impressed. I really want to enjoy the party tonight and the beach tomorrow and the pool on Sunday, so I thought I should just do it. I threw out a lot of stuff (for which you´d be proud, Gen) and got rid of a bunch of clothes. Hooray! My suitcase still weights a bloody TON but we´ll see how that works out in Lima. Dear Lord Help Me if I´m over the limit!

I still have interviews today and tomorrow, and I keep panicking that I don´t have enough to write an entire dissertation. Right now I´m tentatively planning to be here in Iquitos for a month in December. We´ll see how the money situation works out. Something else that makes me panicky: money! As in, where´d it go? And how can I get it back? Here´s hoping good ole Paper Place hires me again! hee hee...

So life goals. Hefty subject. I wanna be a college professor when I grow up. I like teaching. A lot. But getting that job requires a finished dissertation. NGO? Saving children in Africa? Glassblower? Spanish teacher? Underwater Basket Weaver? These are my many options in the event that I fail. But then I won´t be failing, right?

Sidekicks & Rediscoveries

Fun Fact No. 73: Individual Platters. At lunchtime - the big meal of the day here in Iquitos, like dinner is for us - they carefully serve each and every plate according to its consumer. In the US, we tend to throw a bunch of stuff in the middle of the table in the dishes they were cooked in and it´s each for him or herself. There´s a lot of care put into each plate here, which is kind of neat.


Well, just under a week left and SO much to do! Randomly, an Argentine named Nico has dropped by to stay at the house for an indetermined amount of time. He´s remarkably cool and easygoing for an Argentine (j/k MSOB!) and I´ve had a blast bebopping around town with him. Honestly, it´s been kind of neat to show off my "other Austin" while I´m getting ready to leave it. It´s nice to say goodbye to the old places and even discover a few new ones. My last fish kebob at El Zorrito Restaurant. My last jaunt to a port on the edge of town. My last dance with Explosión and my first with Los Niches from Cali, Colombia. I played with Explosión one more time last night, by the way. Lots of fun. Anyway, Nico is a good sport and is willing to try new things and hasn´t yet died of fear while riding on the back of my motorcycle. Plus we´ve been pal-ing around with Roy, this muscleman guy who is surprisingly sweet and enthusiastic about everything, from ice cream to puppy dogs.

But the real goodbyes have begun. Fernando, my friend who is a pianist, cellist, and violinist who is single-handedly starting the first orchestras of Iquitos, is leaving tomorrow for a vacation in Lima, so I had to say goodbye to him today. Yesterday my friend Angel Paz, the director of the Polyphonic Choir of Loreto, took off, and that was tough. I bought my ticket the other day and nearly freaked out- I´m actually leaving. I find it quite hard to believe.

I´m having a going-away party at my house on Friday. It should be quite the blast with over 50 people. A bit scary, but I think it should be fun. I´m afraid it´ll be a sob fest on my end, but what can you do? Speaking of sob fest, it´s going to suck leaving Iquitos, but Mario and his mom, Dina, are going to accompany me to Lima. Dina had to go anyway for a doctor´s appointment and Mario´s going just for kicks. I´m going to need them!

Happy Anniversary to Me!

Fun Fact No. 72: Sugar daddy says what? Apparently it´s all the rage here to set up your young (betwen 14 and 18 year old) daughter with an older (between 24 and 60) guy so he can pay for everything an she doesn´t have to work. Nasty.



So today´s my 10 month anniversary in Peru. I got here on Monday, September 25, 2006. And I leave on Monday, August 6, 2007. Whoa! And today I had the most revealing interview of all my time here. If only I could stay about another 10 months...just kidding! I´ll be home soon! Although I can´t imagine the wrinkly skin I´ll have when I´m 40. No matter how much I protect my skin with sunscreen and long shirts, I´m still brown, brown, brown. Alas alack...damn motorcycle.

Speaking of motorcycles, I think I´m going to hold off on selling it so that I can have my ride waiting for me when I (hopefully) come down here in December. I´m not sure if it´s a good idea or not, but I think it´s what I´m going to do for the time being.

It´s National Book Week here in Peru, and that means book fairs, author signings, concerts and parades. It´s great fun and fantastic because there are still a number of books left to buy before I leave.

I´m trying not to depress myself. But I know I´m going to miss my people here so much. But at the same rate, I´ve missed my people there so much that I think it evens out. A few things things I can´t WAIT to do are:

1. run on Town Lake with Karla
2. drink wine at home with my girls
3. eat a spinach salad at Mother´s
4. Barton Springs with everyone and anyone!
5. ride my bicycle
6. eat more greens in general. And strawberries. No strawberries in this part of the jungle.
7. Flightpath chai. yummy....
8. smbc

and a few things I´m going to miss doing are:

1. ride my motorcycle. I can´t believe how much I love it!
2. go dancing every weekend
3. grilled plantain balls (tacacho)...so good and so greasy!
4. fresh squeezed juice every day
5. rivers. looking at them, dreaming of them, swimming in them, canoeing in them, loving them. The Colorado is nice, but then there´s the Amazon and its tributaries.
6. pirated goods. wow.
7. tooling around town with my friends and randomly hitting up a swimming hole on a hot and lazy sunday.
8. ceviche with Mario


Austin wins, but the things I´ve seen, lived, experienced, loved, hated, learned here in Iquitos make it that much more dear to my heart, even though there are lots of things I won´t miss like:

1. motorcycle exhaust (black sleepies and black boogers every day when I get home)
2. lack of green vegetables
3. icky men that make icky noises every time I come within 50 meters of them. I´ve taken to slapping them in the back of the head if they´re within range.
4. no dairy products. I miss cheese.
5. lies and scandals
6. computer viruses - EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
7. too tight clothes with butt cleavage.
8. pushy people

Jungle Fever

Fun Fact No. 71: Can I get that soda in a deposit bottle to go? So as many of you who have traveled outside of the US know, soda usually comes in a glass bottle that you can't get to-go. You have to give it back, because the bar/restaurant etc., gets a deposit back when they return the bottles. What to do when you want that tasty Inka Cola to go? Dump it in a plastic bag with a straw and roll.

Yes, tis true. I have a fever. I hope I'm not getting the flu! It's generally warm in the Amazon, but it really sucks when you have a fever. It's WAY hotter. I think I got it from my sheer exhaustion. On Friday night I took some sleeping pills and slept 10 hours (praise the Lord!) and I needed it. Saturday night was rough and amazing at the same time. So here goes!

We had a cook-out at the house during the afternoon on Saturday, and then Monica and I went to the Olympic pool for a little bit. I got changed and went to the chapel where our concert was. Everyone sang and played beautifully. And my crying got going because they brought me flowers and a beautiful plate with the names of everyone in the choir. It was really emotional. I then went to Monica's to change out of my black dress and into my black "i'm playing with a cumbia band" top, with lots of sequins, and my skinny jeans. I got to the Complejo where Explosion plays every Friday and Saturday and as the VIP, I got let right in with my own personal bodyguard. Exactly why I need a bodyguard is kind of beyond me, but he's a handsome guy, so I didn't complain.

And then...to the stage. Dancing salsa with the band and then...my turn. A complete blur, but I have pictures to prove I did it. And then I did it again on Sunday night at a different venue! Holy smokes kids, wouldn't I love LOVE to be a salsa flautist. Bad-ass! Seriously, I would dig it, but I need a whole heck of a lot of practice!

The Salsa Lesson

Fun Fact No. 70: Boondoggle rules. Remember boondoggle? Sometimes referred to as gimp? Neon colored plastic rope to make cute keychains? Jamie Freedman recently made some. Anyway, it´s way cool here. People make chairs, rocking chairs, bookshelves, and other random things out of it. The mototaxi drivers use it to make the divider between them and their passengers.


So I´m playing this fabulous salsa tune with Explosión on Saturday night and it is SO stressful. Not the playing in front of 1,000+ people. Honestly, gringa on stage = a success no matter what. But these musicians are really incredible and playing with them has been a thrill and a terror - they are so damn good that I totally suck next to them. However, I have learned so much musically. They are really patient with me and I´ve been getting these quick private lessons here and there and it´s done me a world of good. And to top it off, turns out the best way to really get in with everyone in the band is to show that you´re a musician too (regardless if you´re mediocre). If there was any barrier between me and some of the band, it´s dissolved. I even was invited to beers with "the guys."

Earlier tomorrow night, I have a concert with my choir. And there´s a bit of a surprise here. Turns out that one of the members of the choir from back in the day was stuyding voice in the Conservatory in Lima and got a scholarship to study opera in Paris. He happens to be in town this week to visit his family and he´s singing with us. Dude. The boy can SING. It´s going to be a great concert - just one of each (SATB) in the choir, a few flute sonatas (including 2 by my best student), and some vocal solos. I´m excited for it.

I´ve been incredibly sleep deprived for almost 2 months. I have been sleeping really restlessly and not all through the night. This is agonizing for me, and I can´t handle it anymore. I think it´s just stress about the stuff I have to get done before I leave, but I need it to stop, because I can´t enjoy my last weeks if I´m constantly exhausted.

Monica leaves on Sunday and I´m a bit crushed. She´s coming back to Iquitos in a month, but by then I won´t be here. Tomorrow we´re going to hit the beach during the day and then she´s coming to both concerts tomorrow evening. I´m trying to enjoy every last minute with her!

Oh, and I finished the new Harry Potter. I didn´t realize it hadn´t come out yet. I knew my version was pirated, but I didn´t know that it was THAT pirated. Anyway, it´s great. REALLY great.

2.5 weeks and going nuts

Fun Fact No. 69: Teenage pregnancy. Well, I thought I´d go ahead and roll with the sexual implications of the number 69 for this session´s fun fact. It´s not that fun of a fact, but teenage pregnancy in Iquitos has only decreased 5% in the last 2 years. There are 12, 13, and 14 year old mothers here, and it´s mind-boggling. I was in girl scouts and marching band as a teenager and was not privy to that which constitutes as baby-making activity.


Well, 2.5 weeks to go and I don´t know if I can get it all done. The most recent news is that I´ll be giving a recital on Saturday followed by a salsa tune with Explosión on Saturday night. Yes, I´ll be on stage in front of 1000+ people and no, I´ll not be wearing the requisite thong. Just a mini-skirt. Ha!

I´m growing my hair out...for now. We´ll see how it looks in a few months. Above is a sampling of what is called motorcycle hair. Dude, out of control!

They call Montana Big Sky Country but really, it´s the Amazon. The skies are gorgeous every day, rain or shine, and I´m constantly amazed. Here are some samples:

Me v. Technology Gods

Fun Fact No. 68: Salsa ain´t fancy. It´s not that they can´t do the fancy stuff, it´s just that they prefer simplicity. Peruvians LOVE salsa (as in the music) and they dance it very, very well. And while there are those who will bust out the crazy turns and flips, most prefer a solid rhythm, no tricks. And DAMN these people can move. You would think that Americans were born without hips compared to these people. Seriously. I always feel under pressure dancing salsa in the States but here, I´m a lot more comfortable with it and my hips are slowly but surely latinizing!


OK, who´s read the book American Gods by Neil Gaimon? It´s about all the gods that the various inhabitants of North America have brought with them (Native American, Nordic, Christian, Asian, etc.) and their all out war with the recently empowered gods of technology. The neat thing about the book is that the American gods have their secret meetings at roadside attractions. Anyway, I´m losing my technology fight. I know that I haven´t had it nearly as bad as Michael O´Brien (ask him about it...scary stuff), but I have had a grand total of 3 (brand new Dell less than a year old) computer meltdowns. As luck would have it, my hard drive on my desktop at home in Austin also managed to completely crash, allegedly irreversably (although a friend brought it down here to try to fix it with this amazing tecky guy I found). I only had about half of that stuff backed up, thinking (stupidly) that because it wouldn´t be in use that it would be ok by itself for 10 months (it crashed in February).

The point is, I really believed that technology was infallible. I´m not sure where I got this silly idea, but even my external hard drive has been having issues lately. I´m realizing that hard copies of everything is vital if you want to really keep all that info. But isn´t that impossible? And undesireable for a packrat trying to reform herself? But what else should I do? Nothing is safe. And that is crushing. I feel like I felt when I realized there´s no Santa.

Luckily (knock on lots of wood!), my Edirol Roland 09 is still kicking strong. Here´s hoping I can maintain it until I get back! But if I lose all those interviews that I have as mp3? Well, we can ask Michael O´Brien how that feels and I garantee that it sucks. Royally.

What´s the solution? Any ideas, let me know.


On another, unrelated note, I really love the American collage artist, Joseph Cornell. There´s an exhibit in Salem, Mass this month and then in San Francisco later on. I´ve seen so few of his works in person - at the Menil Collection in Houston and at the Art Institute of Chicago - but I´m in love. Here´s a beautiful piece: