a mighty power for foreigners

"so how many months will you be staying with my family?" alonso teased this morning at breakfast. my death stare prompted a spanish translation for his family. then, five heads turned to see my response.

"pienso que...siempre," i returned with a smile. originally, i had planned to visit guanajuato for a weekend and to stay with alonso's family in silao at the same time as two other wcl guests. but as well-planned excursions often do, it fell apart and i ended up making a solo visit, friday through sunday. on saturday, i got the grand tour of guanajuato. i came after a long line of international guests who have followed up on alonso's hospitable invitation.

i met alonso last fall when he applied for students united's mentoring program. from early on, he made it clear that he came from a beautiful part of mexico, near the city of guanajuato. i didn't think much of it because i'm from detroit and find it to be one of the most beautiful places in the usa. but my interest piqued as my winter adventure drew closer and other people - kate kelly, the friendly tapatio on my flight from atlanta, wouter from the language school - informed me that guanajuato was a must-see. even so, i was wholly unprepared for the potent arrow that struck me when i finally arrived. after maybe a dozen reverent praises - wow. you weren't lying. guanajuato is amazing. - alonso responded with clear satisfaction: "it has a mighty power for foreigners."

my visit took a turn when, on sunday morning, alonso informed me that his mother would like me to join the family for new years in the mountains. he explained that i could go with his family and return to guadalajara late on tuesday evening. ever-adverse to unanticipated changes, i protested:

"i have classes and a bus ticket i have already paid for."
"you want to practice spanish, right? why not practice with my family in the mountains?"
"i don't want to impose. it's your last few days with your family."
"mamí! un momentito, porfa!"
"alonso, no -"
"mamí, puedes explicarle sobre tu invitación a las montañas, por favor? christiane está ocupada porque ya ha pagado por cursos y una boleta por guadalajara."



i emailed wouter about monday classes and asked him to let the bustamantes know not to worry about me before piling into the car with victor and marisa (alonso's parents), alonso, ilse, luís, mariano, our bags, and two remote-controlled helicopters. the ride started out in silence. then rufus wainwright's cover of hallelujah came on the radio. i began sing along quietly. then mariano's pre-pubescent soprano voice came from the backseat. luís and ilse joined on either side of me. after dancing it up to el sondito, the ice was officially broken and the ride passed quickly with stories about mexican artists and legends. what followed was the magic life is made of: stepping into someone else's life for a brief moment. observing religious practices, family jokes, vacation mishaps. then listening as a friend confides about their perspective on what is transpiring. and occasionally stepping away from the wall to participate:

"christiane, conoces thalia?" marisa asked at new years eve dinner.
"sí. un poquito," i replied, happy to have a captive audience with which to practice past tense verbs. "cuando tenía diecinueve años, mi padre trabajaba en alemania. por eso, viajé a -"
"christiane," alonso interrupted with a chuckle, "my mom was asking about thalia - the singer who is playing right now - not italia."


collective laughter covered social shame and the festivities continued. at midnight we ate twelve grapes to reflect on each of twelve months. then the dj turned the music up and we danced our hearts out until 2. un mil gracias to the lara-bravo family for making my farewell to 2012 one for the books.

¡hasta la vista, barista!

this happened tuesday:

profesora: give me a word that ends in -ísta.
me: barista.
p: what?
me: barista. you know, like the person who makes your coffee.
p: that´s not a word here.
me: but i saw it on a poster.
(showing a picture of the ¨bad boy barista¨ poster).
p: i don´t know how to say this gently - that poster´s in english.
me: hmmm. good point.

kristel, meg, and i are heading to the desert this weekend to pack in a few more adventures before we head back to the states. ´til next week: ¡hasta la vista!

context is everything

context can get you places. even if your brain takes the long route. take lago and lado for example. the first means lake, the latter, side. this morning i asked a staff member who was sharing an elevator with me:

why are there no 2nd or 3rd floors for this elevator?
because they're on the other lake.
oh...thanks.

about halfway through breakfast i realized she'd said side. about that time, i caught a preview for the new batman movie on the cafeteria television. it flashed the title: 

batman: horse of the night.
that seemed odd. so i asked vicki:

cc: caballero means horse, right?
v: gentlemen. caballero means gentlemen, more or less. like on the bathroom doors.
cc: right.
v: caballo is horse.
cc: oh...thanks.
v: what made you think of that?
cc: oh, nothing really. just...batman: the dark knight...makes. more. sense.

i should have learned this lesson weeks ago in araçatuba. i couldn't figure out why dad kept starting sentences with:

a building because...
so i asked márcio:

cc: um edificio is a building, right?
m: right.
cc: then why does dad start every sentence with edificio?
m: (puzzled look. pause. laughter erupts.) edificio! edificio!
(the group conversation stops. inquiries begin. another round of laughter.)
cc: what? edificio? what's so funny? what did i say?
m: é difícil and edificio.
cc: huh?
m: they're two different things. (speaking slowly). edificio is a buliding. but he's saying é difícil. "It's difficult."
cc: (laughing despite myself). well...é difícil to hear the difference.

miel means honey

i will never forget the spanish word for honey - miel. i was craving stir-fry real bad so i went to the store to buy some fixings. i found rice, peppers, onions, garlic, mushrooms, eggs, soy sauce, basil, mustard, and vinegar without trouble. but the honey eluded me. unfortunately, i did not know the word for honey. or bee. and i (erroneously) thought i knew the words for sugar and sweet.

me: excuse me. i am looking for something that is [gibberish] and comes from a bzzzzz.

the grocer stares blankly.

me: i don't know the word exactly, but it is dirty and it's a product that comes from something that says bzzzzzz.

grocer 1: limpieza de aerosol?

i stare, making a half-hearted wing flutter gesture.

me: maybe...

grocer 1: it goes "tst tst tst?"

me: yes. i think, yes. 

grocer 1: aisle 4.

me: thank you!

when i got to aisle 4 - the cleaning supplies - i knew something had gone seriously awry. so i approached grocer 2.

me: excuse me. i am looking for something that is like [gibberish] but is a liquid. and it comes from an insect that goes bzzzzzz.

i make a wing fluttering gesture as i buzz. grocer 2 tries, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh.

me: haha. yeah, ummm...it's a liquid that is [gibberish] like [gibberish] and is a product of an insect that goes bzzzzz.

i am flapping more fiercely. grocer 2 laughs openly.

grocer 2: hmmm...

me: bzzzzzzzz...?

grocer 2: una abeja?

me: i'm not sure. in english it's called honey.

grocer 2: i don't speak english.

me: right. well...it comes from an insect that is yellow and black...

grocer 2: miel?

me: i'm not sure.

grocer 2: follow me. 

grocer 2 leads me to aisle 7 and presents me with a selection of honeys.

grocer 2: (confidently) miel.

me: miel!

grocer 2: miel de abeja.

me: miel de...gracias!

grocer 2: (chuckling) no problem.

me: thank you. very very much. miel. miel. miel. thank you.

turns out the best recipe for conversational success is a wicked appetite, a strong dose of shamelessness, and a dash of charades.

because i got high

fact: stoner nick first played this song for girl ryan and me in 2001.

fact: ironically, girl ryan and i spent many an hour blasting this tune on her car stereo and belting out lyrics in winter 2002.

fact: the following spring, i introduced mom and pop to the big hit.

fact: a few weeks ago, mom referenced the chorus of this song during a meeting with missionaries from our church to explain why she had not baked them cookies for dessert.

fact: they seemed thoroughly distraught.

the shoe effect

last month jeff blogged about the shoe effect, or becoming too comfortable in what you intended to be a tide-you-over job. this morning i woke up at 6:30am for training as a jimmy john's delivery driver. as the manager reviewed marketing principles and company policies, an uncomfortably familiar feeling emerged from my gut: enthusiasm. giddiness. pure, unadulterated company pride. oh no, i thought. not again!

forget that jimmy john's actually is a cool company and that i am beyond grateful to have a well-paying job in a city that is 20% unemployed. the point is this: historically speaking, anything involving people and moderate amounts of managerial praise makes me unreasonably gleeful. not high salaries. not promotions. or achieving long-term goals. just people, a positive work environment, and a solid marketing campaign. which is terrifying considering i HAVE long-term goals that DO NOT involve bringing you lunch in 20 minutes or less.

this inexplicable addiction to all things interpersonal causes hiccups in other aspects of my life. i have to actively remind myself that political campaign events are not tailgate parties and that i should not go out with someone simply because he expresses admiration for me.

make no mistake. i'm a big kid who generally makes wise decisions. it's just...i have...i think...i need a 12-step program.

expecting the unexpected

confession: i love valentine's day. because you never know what will happen. but you know that it will.

in 2007, a 6'6" cupid arrived on my doorstep, i threw together an infidel of love costume, and we embarked on a mission to forcefully infuse la with love. i spent last year up a tree (literally) with a fellow i hardly knew and who i'd start making out with 5 months later. tonight, decked out in a black dress with eyeliner to rival david bowie's, i set out for a "rock of love" party featuring wii's rock band. knowing hardly anyone, i was surprised to hear someone shout with shock and a hint of disgust:

"christy?! you're not married?!"

a high school acquaintance approached with an apologetic:

"sorry. i shouldn't have said that so loudly. it's just, you know. a lot can happen in seven years. turns out g-'s gay, and e- has a cartload of kids. when you don't hear from someone, you just figure...how are you?"

we caught each other up on life's big events with equal candor. it's nice to have a friend so frank it keeps you laughing.

happy valentine's day everybody!

everything i ever wanted to share about nola

it has come to my attention that i have been neglecting my blog (thank you, compTron). it has also come to my attention that i have only given team leader chris one blog shout-out (thank you, team leader chris). in an effort to rectify both errors...

sparkle turns 25
i am officially 1/4 of a century. i celebrated with a mardi-gras boa (courtesy of lacey and danielle), sleeves (you're too much katie!), a ride on the st. charles streetcar, team dinner at reginelli's, and a surprise house visit from other ameri-friends in the area.

yearning for a blitz

hansen's sno-blitz sweet shop, that is. jenny and liz might remember this name from our 2006 adventure in the big easy. shortly before we visited, i heard an npr report about this snowball institution and its reemergence after katrina. unfortunately, i was not able to try it out in 2006. when i realized i lived a mere 2.3 miles from hansen's, lance and i hopped on our bikes without delay.

the nostalgic shop was much like i pictured it - a line of locals extending out the door, newspaper articles from the 1970's and pictures dating back to the Depression dressing the walls. as i ordered mary's secret recipe, i mentioned that i'd hoped to come here since i first heard about it on an npr report while living out of state. at that, a woman popped her head around from behind ernest hansen's patented sno-blitz machine. "that was me," she grinned. "i'm the granddaughter, ashley. welcome to hansen's!" we shook hands, she asked how i liked it, and pleasantly told me to come back soon.

after 2 years of rumination, my first experience at hansen's sno-blitz could not have been better.

r.u.b.a.r.b.
i ran into lonni, our waitress from the flying burrito, across town at rusted up beyond all recognition bikes where she helped me find my preferred mode of transportation around the big easy. r.u.b.a.r.b. represents a thrilling element of living in new orleans after katrina. a community bike shop that fixes up discarded bikes and redistributes them to new orleanians is indicative of the rise in creative resourcefulness and civic involvement since the storm. i'd love to see one of these in la or detroit...or maybe i'll start one of them.

unknown (to me) facts about nola
nola - an abbreviation for "new orleans, la".
after the storm - a commonly used phrase referring to life after katrina; perhaps the strongest reminder of the hurricane's hovering influence in new orleans.
decor - i spend most of my time here working with residents in their homes. nearly everyone, it seems, has a formal sitting room and an always-set dining table complete with cloth napkins and place settings.
east coast speak? - native new orleanians sound far more like al paccino in the godfather than clark gable in gone with the wind. who knew?
parking mayhem - except on one-way streets, people park facing in both directions on both sides of the road here. that is to say, you might see two vehicles kissing rather than bumper hugging on any street corner.
bumpy roads - i'm not talking potholes. i'm saying don't sit in the back of a 12p-van unless you like wooden roller coasters.

the coolest day ever
once upon a time wolf-5 went to a holy cross neighborhood meeting in the 9th ward of new orleans. it reminded me of barack obama's stories about community organizing in south chicago. announcements included "the _________ had their bikes stolen last week. they look like __________ and are very sentimental to them. if you see the bikes around, please call them or the police." talk about neighbors who know and care about each other.

a stroll up (yes, uphill) to the mississippi river led wolf-5 to mike, an architecture student at loyola university in new orleans. mike led wolf-5 on a 2.5 hour tour of the ninth ward including history of the holy cross neighborhood, global green/make it right house (part of the holy cross project), where the levees broke, lower 9th ward (what is left of it), and observation deck by the former cypress grove in the bayou. while participating in our team reflection activity, he left us with the succinct request "to share with people what it's like here".

it was one of the most effective educational experiences of my life. i'm a little spent on writing at the moment, but if you'd like more details, please let me know.

about (or a bout of) altruism?
i've worked a few hours since i've been here. maybe a few too many. the other night, i crashed early. as lacey tells me, when the rest of the girls came into the room a few hours later, i sleepily greeted them: "may i help you with something?" i have no recollection of this event and admit nothing...

xoxo from the big easy!

a tale from the front

i was engaged in an intense game of battleship with my 7-year-old niece, rylee, when i noticed something odd about her guessing pattern:

F1 - Hit
G1 - Miss
E1 - Miss
J5 - Miss
H9 - Miss

was it possible she deliberately let me win? i said nothing as she continued making bogus guesses. finally, as i happened on ry's last ship, she guessed in succession:

F2 - Hit
F3 - Sunk

and won the game. when i called her bluff, she explained with exasperation: "you were losing by so much!" wow. any way you slice it, that hurts a woman's pride.

i spy with my little eye

i was sitting at my desk in our first floor showroom when i caught a glimpse of a man passing by my window. naturally, i looked.

we exchanged glances, and i returned to my work with only one fleeting thought:

he looks familiar...probably from school

only later, after anna identified him, did i realize:

he looks familiar...because he's turk from "scrubs"

and then:

he looks familiar because he's murray from "clueless"

anna interrupted my "he looks familiar" game and imdb search to announce that she could see turk from my window. i ducked my head down instinctively, raised my camera phone, and snapped the following photograph:

i am officially scratching "become a successful paparazzi" from my to-do list.

miscues and fishing accidents

a phone conversation between my sister, rachel, and me:

"i love your blog, chris!"
"thanks rach."
"it always makes me laugh!"
"thanks. comment on my blog sometime."
"uhh...ok. well, it's really beautiful and well-maintained."
"thanks. anyway-"
"and it's so green!"
(silence.)
"ummm...actually, what did you say?"
"i was being dumb - i said 'comment on my blog'."
"ohhhh!!! i thought you said, 'compliment my lawn!'"

that'll teach me. fishing is for the birds.

dumbfounded

if asked, i would describe myself as a generally confident individual who is prone to brief, but statistically significant stints of self-consciousness. such bouts are characterized by general neediness, feeling "dumb" (not unable to speak - heaven forbid - but the opposite of "intelligent"), and truly awful comebacks.

awhile back, while visiting some family, one might say i tried to use a (plastic) microwaveable steamer as a stovetop pan. after puzzling over the odd smell, i noticed the "pan" was melting into the shape of an electric burner. i tolerated some goodnatured teasing from my siblings and when i'd had enough, i sharply retorted: "i'm...smart!"

that did not improve my situation.

to those who have ever found themselves dumbfounded by their dumbness, i raise my glass and toast with an old school favorite:

"smart"
by shel silverstein

"My dad gave me one dollar bill
'Cause I'm his smartest son,
And I swapped it for two shiny quarters
'Cause two is more then one!

"And then I took the quarters
And traded them to Lou
For three dimes-- I guess he didn't know
That three is more than two!

"Just then, along came old blind Bates
And just 'cause he can't see
He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,
And four is more than three!

"And I took the nickels to Hiram Coombs
Down at the seed-feed store,
And the fool gave me five pennies for them,
And five is more than four!

"And I went and showed my dad,
And he got red in the cheeks
And closed his eyes and shook his head--
Too proud of me to speak!"

what is a fontanelle?

i'm confident that i'm a smart gal. maybe too confident. this weekend, while playing cards with my sisters, i made a shocking discovery. after recounting a family tale about soft spots, sister liz countered with a quote from a favorite flick:

"mind his little fontanelle," she managed between giggles. i laughed because i love that line, but thought it an odd choice. then again, she is my sister.

after a minute or two, it clicked. "is a fontanelle a...a..." I began.

at this point liz's laughing problem was in full force. "a...soft spot?" liz assisted. i laughed even harder. "it's a soft spot," she repeated, a little defensively. "didn't you know that?"

red in the face, i shook my head. "i-i-i...just assumed...it was..." i couldn't finish for lack of breath. liz looked puzzled, then burst out laughing. tj and baby rach were not shy in their mockery either.

"you thought...?"
"i just assumed..."
"it was..."
"well, what else is little on a baby boy?!?"

that you might not face the same gaffawing i did...

you know you're a bad driver when...

i was driving my friend's car tonight in hollywood. after making a right turn on a green light, i was surprised to see flashing lights behind me.

by the time i pulled into the nearest lot and parked, the entourage included 1 police car and 2 police on motorcycles. i tried not to panic as i waited for the officer to approach the vehicle.

"ma'am, when you're making a right turn you have to get in the right turn lane. you can't split the two lanes."

"oh, i understand. i am very sorry, sir."

"may i see your license?"

i silently prayed to the traffic gods that they would not check my spotted record as i handed over the id. the officer examined it closely with a flashlight, then shined the light into the car.

"ma'am, have you been drinking tonight?"

is this an inappropriate time to confess my religious beliefs? i thought. somehow it seemed that responding "i'm mormon" might seem fascitious rather than sincere.

"no. no i haven't."

"would you mind looking at my finger? now i want you to follow it as i move, but don't try too hard."

the perfectionist in me momentarily panicked: what if i don't pass? then i realized it would take a concerted effort for an adult who is stone cold sober to fail this test.

after several rapid gestures with his finger, the officer returned my license and let me off with a friendly "be safe this evening." as i timidly started up the car and pulled away, i saw the interrogating officer comment to his partner, "well, she hasn't been drinking..."

so the story goes that tonight in hollywood i - a woman who has never ingested an alcoholic beverage - was pulled over for drunk driving.