That can't fill out the "word verification" correctly the first time, when trying to leave a message on some one's blog? Everytime, I psyche myself up to do it, and blip, try again. Maybe I'm dyslexic? Or just dumb.
We hiked up Goat Mountain trail. Bjørn purposefully neglected to tell me that the map at the Ranger's office indicated our hike was one line straight up the mountain. 2.5 miles all switchbacks in the woods 1.25 miles in an upper meadow, and one 360 degree phenomenal viewpoint.
In prep for our missions trip to Mexico (and more because I want to), I am meeting with a Spanish tutor to brush up on my espanol. 2 hrs/week. I am very excited. I start this week.
I ran across this poem from a classmate from twu, and it really caught me. It is his translation of a well-known Uruguayan journalist, Eduardo Galeano. Galeano describes himself as "A writer obsessed with remembering, with remembering the past of America above all and above all that of Latin America, intimate land condemned to amnesia." This piece he laments the place of the Indigenous people of Latin America in the eyes of fellow citizens.
It is more powerful in Spanish, so if you know any, I recommend reading it in its original context. But here is my attempt.
"The fleas dream of buying themselves a dog and the nobodies dream of leaving poverty
That one magic day suddenly good luck will rain, pouring rain of good luck
But good luck doesn’t rain: yesterday, today, tomorrow or ever
A sprinkling of good luck doesn’t fall for the nobodies that call for it
Even if they wake up on the right foot
Or if they change their broom at the beginning of the year
The nobodies: the sons of nobody, the owners of nothing.
The nobodies: the no ones, the lowest of lows, dying in life, the doomed, doom forever.
The Ones that are not, even If they are.
The ones that don’t talk a language but a dialect.
The ones that don’t have a religion but superstitions.
The ones that don’t have a culture but folklore.
The ones that are not human beings but human resources.
The ones that don’t have a face but a number.
The ones that don’t appear in world history but in the police blotter of local papers.
The nobodies, the ones that, are even cheaper than the bullet that kills them"
Original en Castellano.
"Sueñan las pulgas con comprarse un perro y sueñan los nadies con salir
que algún mágico día llueva de pronto la buena suerte, que llueva a
cántaros la buena suerte;
pero la buena suerte no llueve ayer, ni hoy, ni mañana, ni nunca.
Ni en lloviznita cae del cielo la buena suerte, por mucho que los
nadie la llamen,
aunque les pique la mano izquierda, o se levanten con el pie
o empiecen el año cambiando de escoba.
Los nadie: los hijos de nadie, los dueños de nada.
Los nadie: los ningunos, los ninguneados, corriendo la liebre,
muriendo la vida, jodidos, rejodidos.
Que no son, aunque sean.
Que no hablan idiomas, sino dialectos.
Que no profesan religiones, sino supersticiones.
Que no hacen arte, sino artesanía.
Que no practican cultura, sino folklore.
Que no son seres humanos, sino recursos humanos.
I have seen this attitude present in Latin American countries towards the Indigenous people of the countries, and it is definitely present in North Americans' response to hearing daily international news of major catastrophes.
But I have to wonder if the last stanza ("The Ones that..."), isn't North Americans' attitude toward Native (American) people? I have to wonder if despite my 5+ years spent with Native people, if this isn't my own attitude many times?
Steph picked me up in the morning, and Amy and I spent the day running errands for her (and getting sidetracked at the Alaskan Brewing Co. headquarters). Last minute we helped the florist put together some floral arrangements.
and then we headed to the yacht club for rehearsal dinner. That was a blast - phenomenal view in 3 directions, good food, good drink, and good times. Amy and I whipped up a last minute a round of "Who will..." game for Ross and Steph, which I learned at my own rehearsal dinner.
Bjørn and I spent the morning and early afternoon, "sight-seeing" Juneau. The weather was cloudy. cold and a little rainy. We checked out the tram (that Aaron got us free passes for through his work).
Then we parted ways to attend the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties.
Bjørn and I got back around 1 am last night from AK, to both have work in the morning. (I started teaching ESL summer school today - 3 hrs/day, with 7 kids in my class - talk about perfect!)
North the Rush is on. I don't know if any of you who had parents that made you listen to classic, yet terrible music....but my dad always made us listen to Johnny Horton. So when I thought of our trip to Alaska, my childhood came rushing back:
Bjørn, the poor dear, has to go to work today, IN CANADA! So in order to get him ready for the 4th of July out of country, we played Sousa marches - and boy did he march! woulda made his grandma proud! And of course, our favorite was Stars and Stripes Forever - a true classic. We then got him dressed up in American colors, and now, I think he is ready to show them Canadians, what true American pride is!