and we danced.

we just danced. right there in the living room.

it was freeing. really freeing.

i forgot. it was good.

i laughed. really deeply. it was precious. a gift.

just danced....leti and i...leti´s dad and i. leti´s mom and i. leti´s madrina and i.

dancing. salsa. meringue. cumbia. "michael jackson."

release---really sweet. freedom washed over. and we danced.

otra luz...

I saw things from a different perspective today. Really. I was sitting there, and a whole new light shed itself about the entire room. She was talking and I saw past the scatter-brain. I saw past the exhaustion. And I saw humanity. I have a difficult time with this sometimes, I've realized. Just seeing the sheer humanness..I think my brain develops this weird systematic way of thinking, which, in essence, reduces life to perfection and failure.

That's it. Those are the only two options in the book.

And sometimes that's ok. But most times, it isn't. I'm always amazed at those people who can really reach beyond reason and get into the feelings phase. I'm not good at that. Not in the least bit. I seldom am a "feelings" person myself, although living by yourself will teach you how to get in touch with those really quickly. More so, I think that (on purpose) a significant number of people have been introduced into my life here....not just a few. Un monton....

And they speak into my life everyday. Sometimes it's in ways that I do'nt see or understand...and that frustrate the living daylights out of me....really. But honestly, these people are speaking life to me in hidden, subtle ways that I am finally beginning to recognize.

I view perfection as the ultimate...and often times, in the attempt to teach my kids about integrity and responsibility, I cut them off in the middle of explaining for the thirty-third time why they DON'T HAVE THEIR HOMEWORK....and I'll just say, "You either have your homework....or you DON'T have your homework." And that's the end. Black and white for me. There's not a lot that can be in the middle. It's one way or the other.

But then there's this pivotal point of balance. Perfection is NOT the ultimate. It's really not. It's kinda boring. I'm bored with the things in life that just are. There's like this rush in the process....it's human. It's natural to be enticed by the figuring it out.

And then there are people like me....who just find that life works better if it works....that life just flows smoother if someone rationalizes....that things be put in boxes (neat boxes with labels, please)....that there is a "yes" or "no" for every question. And THOSE people miss it sometimes. It's because the MARK becomes the idol. The process becomes the antagonist. Just get there. Just make it work. Just do it. (Nike must have a CEO that's like me).

But then there's grace. I do'nt know how to maneuver in that "thing"...it's unknown. It's not "fair"....it's not "just"....it's not "reality".....it's a cop out. It's an excuse. It's less than perfection.

Ah hah. And there again pops up that trap for me. I've spent a lot of life missing the details for the sake of perfection. I've spent a lot of life missing the relationships for the outcome of the "junta"....I've spent a lot of life walking past the true learning experiences for the sake of gripping the answer. I don't often do well with flowery stuff. I don't cry during movies. I don't tolerate sappy, emotional stuff (just get it together for heavens' sake....). I don't allow for very many mistakes before you're struck from the jury of my life, so to speak. I demand that you hold up your end of the deal at all costs. And I do that with everything in life.

I saw things differently today, though. This instance was a school meeting, in which, I as usual, was frustrated because I was told originally that I would need these certain grades/percentages....so I did that. Then, no, it changed. It was THESE SIX with THESE percentages....and then today, all of a sudden (the day the grades are due for my 50 little people)....NO! There are only THESE THREE (one of which wasn't even in the original list)....and then, by the way, for your homeroom, you'll need to enter these extra SEVEN.

So in the midst of being peeved at the thought of having to stay longer and do something else that wasn't in the mix....not to mention, I had other responsibilities that I was committed to...and I certainly (for the sake of perfection) wasn't going to squirm out of those. I was going to do it. All of it.

But then I saw her. I saw her face. I watched her eyes. I glanced away because, really, it was something hard for me. To "permit" failure. To be "okay" with what I had wound up in my heart as "injustice." But then I saw something.

It IS a real battle for her too. And she's not failing miseraby, a thought I'd sometimes entertain in my mind. There was a passion that was so familiar to my heart....something that resounds from the depths of my soul. We have the same desire. We just try to get there in a totally different manner. And that was powerful for me. The "imperfection" IS her process. The "perfection" is mine.

The words that come out of her mouth sometimes astound me. NO, I will NOT give that kid another chance to make-up his work, he's had eight weeks...oh, and if he didn't care enough about it in the first place to do it, why should he care now..in the final days. NO. And if the kid earns a 2.3, I want to put that. Fluffing it with a 5 or 6 is not okay. It's not the truth.

That's the Miss K methodology.

That's not hers.

And I've been shut off to her way of thinking for the greater part of my life. Even went so far as to think it ridiculous. But then, today, I saw the error in my ways. To grow, learn, change, be greater than when I woke up yesterday, I can't shut out the influences...the very people that I need to invest in me. And to grow, I've gotta reach this level of cognition that challenges what enters, debates it, rattles it around and around and around, and then decides....an exploration. Not just the sheer "nope. I don't think so. That's not what I believe. Next." The way to be intelligent is to listen. To critically perceive. To weigh over and over and over.....and then judge and decide.

I want my kids to learn that. I'm using methods that challenge them in that way. But, once again, I see the error in my own modeling. I don't always do it.

So I'm grateful for that meeting that I originally thought a waste of time....pointless. Actually, now, I'm glad that I was sitting there in that very chair...to get it. To learn yet something else. To find a flaw....a big one. And more than that, I'm really thankful for the people that are challenging me to think outside of my own little box....to reach into something so unfamiliar. It's the way to truly gain knowledge that turns into wisdom......this.......reaching. seeking, striving. and really, in the end: listening.

un sueno.

"all that i am is in your hands." it's a line from shawn mcdonald's....all in need. this song soothes me....something amazing.

profundisimo. vinieron del abajo....adentro. sin explicacion...nada mas vinieron. needy. y luego....mas confianza que he sentido jamas. jamas. es raro, no. tan poco. tan lejos. pero confianza mas intima que he conocido.

rapido. todo es asi. nada mas. cambio en un instante. y ya. todo diferente. pensamientos. sentimientos. ya cambiaron. tienen que. decision. mezcla.....tan dulce.....se junto con miedo.....se junto con confusion.....se junto con paz. pero.....si? o no?

todo lo que necesito. se parece que ya es completo. pero otras cosas nuevas. todo lo que quiero. es tan facil. me ofrece....

es como la lluvia. se cae....y nunca es lo mismo....shatters.....pero por lo bueno. por lo malo algunas veces. pero es que todo depende. cada cosa preciosa....ofrece la vida.....ofrece la belleza.....ofrece cambio.....ofrece la limpieza....

al mismo tiempo, puede ofrecer el dolor....ofrece destruccion.....ofrece mascara.....ofrece la oscuridad...ofrece protector, pero de lo que es real...

le dije. algunas veces, me levanto y siento como que todo se va acabar....como no? como que que estoy haciendo? tal vez deberia haciendo algo especifico....algo que cuenta....que se parece "bien hecho" en frente de los ojos que me miran. como no? que decidi? que estoy viviendo? y en esas mananas, nada mas, reflejo en lo que es mi decision....y sigo. camino. ando. corro.

es perfecto. pero debe ser asi? eso es lo que me asusta. realmente, no se. mucho de pensar. si. y asi es la vida. que cada dia crezca. que diario aprenda. que todos los dias cambie por lo mejor....a ser mas.....de que, no se....pero mas....

espero. deseo. sueno.

Are you kidding?

Sometimes I'm REALLY glad I'm NOT in the States....

News like THIS: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21262661/

Gore wins peace prize???? Global Warming......

I'll stop. Really. I have to. I have no more words.

The Day.

So just sitting on my bed listening to a little banda. I like banda. It makes me happy....upbeat....fun....

Anyways....I've been an extremely inattentive/lazy communicator this week....so I apologize to the faithful ones who have responded to my emails...and have sent thoughtful words my way. I've been buried, seemingly...and really exhausted this week. Really exhausted.

My kids have their bimestral exams this week...so bless their hearts, they're STIR CRAZY....which is hard on them AND on me. I referee a LOT more and have to work a LOT harder for their full attention. However, today we sang "I like to eat, eat, eat apples and bananas" with all of the sounds of the vowels. That was hysterical. We had a great time...and they were captivated for a little while. My sixth graders listened to the recording of Dr. Martin Luther King's "I have a dream" speech so that they can create reflections via artwork tomorrow. That was like pulling teeth...they didn't have the attention span for it....but we'll see what they actually did absorb from the listening and the analysis. Ha. Who knows?

Then during after-school tutoring in which I have the secundaria students (that's like junior high in the States and Canada), two flipped over in their chairs...and one WROTE ON HER DESK with those oil-based crayons. It took all I had not to react in a very drastic manner. Instead, I walked over to the desk, waited for the presenter to finish his story....and removed the crayon from her hand. Then I calmly looked at the two who were chatting....and said "Quien lo hizo?"

Then I marched myself to the cleaning lady, obtained a cleaner and rag...and she scrubbed. I was pretty sure the color wasn't going to come off, but I was going to make sure she used every ounce of muscle and effort in her body to try. It did, amazingly....but she spent the last fifteen or so minutes of class removing it. I found out upon leaving that she is the PRINCIPAL'S DAUGHTER....por el amor de Dios. Ay yayay....me matan!

Sometimes it just isn't funny anymore....when the kids in talleres don't want to be there....but that's the whole point....is to make them equal with the others in the class...when they won't open their mouth (as in the case of this same girl who colored all over the desk)....literally, I asked her several times to do something or respond to something....and, of course, not making her be the first or only one...I always made sure that she'd seen plenty of examples from the others (more advanced) in the class. Not once did she open her mouth. NOt one time. I had a hard time not just looking at her and saying, "Why are you here again? Because, really, I'm thinking htere's no point." I think I'll do that when I talk to her mom, the principal.

Anyways....on the flip side, I'm pretty excited that we're going to begin studying some fun "unit things." Halloween combined with Dia de los Muertos....it's a big thing here...and there is some really extreme and cool history. So we'll be exploring that the week after next. Next week is United Nations Day, so as a department we've been asked to forge the way with that....my kids are going to do research projects and then present their own individual countries of choice. I'm excited to see what mine come up with and then proudly display them in the school's entrance. Very cool.

More than that, each teacher/staff person has a mandatory meeting this week with the school's psychologist (or at least they TOLD me all of us had to go...maybe it's jsut me....hehe....they're discovering my secrets...hehe). I had my meeting with her yesterday. Made me feel like I fit. We're discussing interpersonal relationships and how to improve the climate, in general, among the staff/direction/etc....it was good for me to experience that...to give my input and be heard...my frustrations were able to be spilled forth and that was okay. I think things are definitely improving in that area for me personally. A lot of it was just learning how to fit in this system with these people...happens everywhere. So anyways...maybe some changes yet to come...for the betterment of the institution.

Wow. Okay. My eyes are closing. I've gotta jump under the covers. Have a great end of the week. Thanks for your faithfulness and friendship.

Faces.....

A few shots of my kids here at school. The first few are of my sixth graders....and, yes, they really are THAT excited to be in English block for half the day (hahahahahahahahahahaha!)....the middle one is of the "mural" we created after completing our Civil Rights Movement discussion. They did a fabulous job!

The flast few are of my fifth graders. I taught them to square dance today, as an accompaniment to our section on Tall Tales...they're currently creating their own....

This is what it's like teaching English in Mexico...

The joys of teaching in a foreign language to your students....

I'm going to share a story Diego wrote. He's 9....precious like no other....chubby, with a smile that would melt the toughest of hearts. Here's his journal entry using superlatives:

One day, I smell one thing and I say: "I don't like that smell. I need to find the responcible for the smell." One day I smell something and say: "That smell is smelliest" and search and search the responcible of the smell. I find 3 dead skunks but in the night the skunks wake up of the another world. His eyes turn reddest, his hands turn to hottest hands. and his hear (hair) tightest on his head. all the are biggest. In the night were scared because the skunks are ugliest zombies. I fight and fight. In one night I to the skunks: "If you keep my world along I will give you a big blue diamond." The skunks accept and go to other world. The end.

Then there's Joshua's work. The prompt for that day was: This is how peanut butter is made. He writes:

First: they plant a peanut tree.
Second: every two hours, two peanuts come from the tree.
Third: they mush the peanuts and add water.
Fourth: they add cream and milk.
Fifth: they put in a jar.
Sixth: they go to the supermarket.
Seventh: they go to the person's home.
Eighth: they make peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
Ninth: the person eats the sandwich.
Tenth: the peanut butter goes down the toilet and to the ocean. It's the peanuts final destination.

What thoughts swirl through the minds of fifth graders, no?!?!?!?? :)

I love my job.

I love my job. I do'nt love the notes from parents:

"Dear Miss K:
I would like to express that I think your grading is drastic. First of all, with all due respect, I think his effort along deserves more than a 0. Secondly, he tried his best by looking up the information, organizing his page with lines and drawings, and then writing it out. I'm sorry, but this topic was not an easy topic to do, due to the fact that it's part of history and you cannot change the facts or the wording. I think these types of essays are a little hard for a 10 year old who is learning English and trying to put it into his own words. The information has to come from somewhere and writing out that information (the facts) is not stealing (she underlines those words). I think your wording is a little harsh, and I think he should be given the opportunity to do it over, not just be given a 0. Please forgive me for being upset, but his grades and his feelings and efforts matte to me."

This was all over the fact that my classes (both fifth and sixth), as a part of their weekly homework and outside of class activities have to research a given topic and construct a one page (5th or 2 pages for 6th) essay. The topic ties in to what we're covering in class...for example, they've researched topics like the Oregon Trail, Mexican holidays (during Independence Day), cultural traditions, etc. We've had the discussion that goes: "Who knows about plagairism? You cannot go to the internet, download a page, and give it to me. Why is that not okay? (we don't learn, it's stealing, etc.) Yes. It's stealing because someone else took time to construct that page or information and you are giving me that paper as though it were your own....with your name on it. Also, if I wanted to know about something from a professional or scholar on the subject, I could do my own research. The point is for you guys to critically think through things and write your ideas on what you find out. I do'nt expect perfection (and I certainly don't grade solely on that....my lowest levels receive as high or higher grades than those who are native speakers...i completely go off of personal ability and use a grading criteria so that it's fair). Therefore, I want to see YOUR work and your work only."

The funniest thing about this particular letter is its timing. This kid has received straight 9-10's.....he's a fabulous writer...and more than that, he speaks and writes almost perfect ENglish. For that reason, it came as such a shock to me that I typed the first few lines of his essay into google...and discovered the entire Wikipedia article copied to his "lined" page. So I wrote on his paper: "This is copied from Wikipedia. Don't steal others' work. Yours is SOOOO much better. You're a FABULOUS writer- I like what YOU create." I gave it back to him with a zero on the top.

The thing is: this is the 6th week of essays. He's given me his own work every week...and more than that, we specifically had the conversation last week that thye could use all of the notes I gave them in class (becasue I downloaded pictures and information from the net, as well as hauling my laptop everyday so that they could have a more hands-on experience with visuals....as the Oregon Trail is not the most familiar topic to fifth grade Mexican students. For that reason, I gave them information on top of information and had the conversation about using that information to construct hte essay. Furthermore, they had to construct several "comprehension check" activities....

They had to paint their "parts of our class mural"...but completing the following: This week, I discovered....
Cowboys...
The most interesting thing this week was...
I couldn't believe....

And so on and so forth. So what I'm saying is that they had plenty of prep time to prepare their thoughts to construct the essay.

Furthermore, this kid, as mentioned, has never copied or had trouble creating his own stuff before...for that reason, it blew my mind that it happened....

Anyways...so I'll take the opportunity to go over all of this with her in a meeting that I've asked her to arrange with me...

I do love my job though. Today in fifth, I had three of my best English speakers copying each other's homework...and I was so proud when I asked them to come outside..and they all completely owned up to their mistake. There was no blame game. It was a straight up: I did that. It was wrong. I was so proud. I sent them to chat with my director...but they were very accepting and responsible about their behavior. It made me smile...all of the talks....all of the chats about stealing (such as the one mentioned above)...it paid off for those three.

Also, I started class with my sixth graders...and as I was checking homework, a few of them were throwing this molding clay they've been using in their science class. I looked at the primary culprit and said, "What happens if you throw the clay in the class?" Everyone chimed in with "report!"....that equals suspension, a phone call to parents for a meeting...and it's three strikes you're out...so only two remaining chances.

Anyways...finished checking...and I was making my way back to my desk, when, once again, he threw another clay ball. Mind you, I'd already written in his behavior log from last week about this issue....his parents had to sign it...and then again, I've given him a thousand warnings...and finally made it clear that I would follow the rules as set up in his Spanish class: report for throwing clay.

I asked him to step outside...and went looking for the Spanish teacher so that I could be sure as to the rules that have been established in the class....we had a long talk. He admitted his mistake. He chose to clean the entire salon (classroom)....and we had a serious heart-to-heart about what it means to be responsible and mature...to be a young MAN....I asked him if he has what it takes to protect others in his classroom...and to protect the feelings and time of the people that have to clean the room. He told me he didn't understand the question, so I called the cleaning lady over. I made him ask her about cleaning the room, about the time it takes, about what she has to do to scrape the clay off the floor, about what it feels like to have to clean up after the messes of other people...and bless his heart, the kid got tears in his eyes.

Then, as I returned to the class alongside him....I noticed that the others had continued throwing clay rather than obeying my directive to read the story from the reading book. Of course, I get there to the chimes of: "Miss K. I finished. I did it. I read. I...blah blah blah..." pure mentiras (lies).

I looked at them...and with the most serious tone and mirada (look) I could, I said...."if you had any part in throwing clay"...i was interrupted by the blamers and the accusers....i calmy and firmly said, "I do'nt want to hear anything about what anybody else did. You know in your heart if you had any part in throwing anything...and if so, stand up out of your chair right now...and pick up every piece of clay on the floor." WIth that, every single child stood up out of his or her seat...and began making a sweep of the room. Following, two of my most trouble-making boys (that have really had a turn-around...even completing HOMEWORK...God bless Mexico!) went over, got the broom and dustpan...and as a team, swept the room.

Emmanuel (the original castigado) gave me a thumbs-up and a huge smile. His justice had come. He was proud of what he'd done...and of the cooperation of his classmates.

We had a long talk in Spanish with their Spanish teacher AND the cleaning lady...about being responsible, mature, and learning to value others' time...and not take advantage of a service (cleaning) that is offered to them by adding to the workload that is NOT prescribed to the victims....it was cool to see their faces...they clicked.

We moved on about our business after several questions from them....and then I had them write letters to the custodian...half in English...and then translated in Spanish since she can't speak English. It was amazing to read their words. They really felt what had happened....it was a cool moment for me, as their care-taker, instructor....teacher.

Also, I got to have some serious talks with the counselor (psychologist) today.....as well as with my director. And it's like maybe I'm getting somewhere. Maybe I'm being understood....not that I haven't fought for it...but to be able to show that while introducing the selection on Rosa Parks....I tied in so much about Mexico's own history and experience with fighting for freedom against the Spaniards....

As well as just the cognition that has happened in the last week in our classroom. It blows my mind to read the papers they prepared for the mural....they had to finish statements like:
I saw....
Racism looks like...
Rosa Parks...
I couldn't believe....
The most interesting thing was...
I discovered....
Buses in Alabama....

And to read what they wrote...mind you, it's not perfect...and it's so badly phrased sometimes...but they GOT IT....they got the message that I was pushing for....I spent a whole day allowing them to watch a youtube video I found that is a tribute to the Civil Rights Movement...and I had them analyze the music used, the contrast of color and black and white....the references to Abraham Lincoln....the faces of the kids and why they were inserted as such...the motive of using only a HAPPY face for Rosa Parks' memories...the arrangement of the scenes from history.....motives of the Ku Klux Klan, as portrayed in the video....

That's stuff I learned in COLLEGE in my rhetoric of protestation movements class.....and my sixth grade students in MEXICO...got it! They understood. They processed it...they figured it out...and they let me know with their work for the mural and their participation in class discussions.

The stop sign as the background on one of their pages that says: Racism have to stop! was the moment of sheer joy and hope for me.

I love teaching. I love teaching because I can see when they GET IT. It has so much more to do than this language or that language...so much more to do than a story about a girl who rescues a bird or a man named Davy Crockett....or this curriculum or that one....when they see the value beyond what we're doing...when I'm able to mold them just slightly...into young adults who have purpose, healthy self-esteem, values, and core principles that they are willing to stick by.....that's what does it for me...

And it beats every battle I have to fight in order to get there.....it beats every frustrating parent conference...like the three I had yesterday...and the one where the mom flat out told me that English really wasn't a big deal. Their main focus was Spanish and that her son WOULD NOT be attending after-school tutoring....

No. The notes from my kids...that say things like: "Miss K...I couldn't believe what I was reading when I looked for this information about the Titanic. It must have been really scary to know that you and your kids were going to die on that boat. It made me really sad." Or when they give me hugs and flowers...and little notes that say "Tank you for yu class...."and then accompany that with a big smile...or the kid that just burst into tears today...and then came to me and buried his head against my chest....holding on for dear life...he wasn't afraid to...he did it right in front of the class...

And the little triumphs...like when the girl that won't talk to me even when she is standing looking at me face to face...RAISES her hand to VOLUNTEER information in front of the entire class....or the other one who comes to ask me if I think it's bad that she likes a boy....or the other one, whom I continually tease about stopping his drug use (since he's always in the clouds...)....he's the cutest kid in the world...and I love him to pieces....so it's become the joke now...but today I'm deep in the middle of instructions for something...and bless his heart...as though he had just landed from a long trip to another world, he pipes up: "Notebook??????" He hadn't heard another word I'd said...and that was the only thing he caught...so just in mid-sentence, he cuts me off...with the cutest look on his face, jumps out of his chair...and goes to his cubby. I couldn't help it. I DIED laughing. I put my head on my desk..and the others roared in laughter too. It was the funniest thing....it was one of those like you fall asleep in church and then jump up and start clapping or something during the altar call music becasue you want to pretend like nothing ever happened.

Yeah....I love my job. There are parts I hate...and there are things about the system that drive me crazy...but at the end of the day, after the millions of extra-curricular activities and battles....it's worth it. It's an amazing thing to be charged with the responsibility of investing in young people....to be privileged to be a part of their formation. I love my job. I really do.

For your viewing pleasure....

A couple of albums that you can check out....life in Mexico! :)

http://txstate.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2151373&l=4793e&id=29622068

http://txstate.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2150682&l=b0958&id=29622068

So I definitely DID get my first FLOWER from a student today! :) Yes....made my day.....HOWEVER yesterday (and this, by far, tops the flower thing)....uno de ellos me regalo un "Fruit by the Foot- Spiderman edition"...now if that isn't love from pupil to teacher, I don't know what is....:)

He's one of my favorites....and today, for the first time EVER in his life this semester....he did ALL of his homework...and we LITERALLY celebrated...I had the whole class clap for him....:)

It was a great moment in his life...I seriously don't know that it will EVER happen again....BUT he was SOOOOOO proud of the fact that he REMEMBERED to take his books home and do his homework...adn then to ACTUALLY bring it back....WOAH. It was big. And we celebrated. :) He's precious. My Felipe. :)

The Oregon Trail...

So I've spent the entire week teaching about the Oregon Trail and pioneers to my fifth graders, right? I'm grading their journals today....topic: "Your family decides to go out West. Describe your experience on the Oregon Trail."

One of my precious little cloud floaters writes: "I live in Europe, but my family it not happy. and nos fuimos (we went) in a boat and then llegamos (we arrived) and nos fuimos in a wagen to go a Mexico."

Then she draws a lovely map, complete with donkey, of their trip from Europe to Mexico via the OREGON TRAIL. On the back of the page, she writes:

"It- Menu (that's supposed to be "eat"): Frijoles (beans), pescado (fish), lechuga (lettuce), and arros (rice)

Play: carts, futball, baila (dancing), and music

Animals- cow, horse, and a dog

Dress- Sueter, jeens, and blusas (shirts)"

Ay, yay, yay....it doesn't matter that I showed MAPS of the US and every possible trail that the pioneers could have taken to reach Oregon, nor that I made the BIGGEST deal in the world about the foods that they captured, prepared, and ate....nor that I got out the big map and had several students come up and show with their fingers the general area that we were referencing when talking about the "Old West" and wagons on the trail....no. This kid's going to Mexico, eating beans and lettuce....and she's wearing a sweater.....ay yay yay. These are the moments...these are the ones that keep me sane...the ones when I just laugh and shake my head. At least she learned what a wagon was, eh?

it works for me.

"Come freedom, come. Come freedom, come. Come breathe...come breathe...come breathe on me. Trickle down and save the world two hands that I can't see...."

Never in my life would I have imagined.....I wish I had words for it. It's like this every day change that happens. Nothing is EVER the same. Ningun dia es igual. Every time I open my eyes....there's something new. It's impossible to be in a routine...because there isn't a single thing that is yet familiar, old hat.

It's kind of like one of those weird Bourne Identity kind of movies...where the past is seemingly erased...becasue I was thinking about it: this is my life now. And everything about it is changed. I can't reference "this is how it was in Texas...or this is how it was in the States...WE do things THIS way." None of that matters here. None of it.

From being able to turn wherever you want to, whenever you want to, no matter the light color. To seeing blatant sexual harassment in the workplace. To just flat out not being able to "drive thru" a restaurant when I want to. To just being moved out of the way when I am blocking someone's path.

It's not to say that any of it is bad...it's just to say that sometimes I feel like I live in the circus...and then on days like today, when I went back to Guadalajara for the first time since leaving, it was like sweet release. For some reason, it felt familiar. It felt like I knew what I was doing. I knew how to get around. I knew exactly where to go. It was nice to experience that. I think it was actually really good for me.

I think I dwell on this sort of inbalance that I experience, but I also think it's part of acostombrandome....a part of adapting and going through this cultural interchange that I call my life. There's no zone of entrance and exit...it's just a flow....

And as much as the newness beats me up and spits me out.....it's so rich....it's something like being given a gift that you can only unwrap one inch at a time...one inch per day....and someday, eventually i'll be able to get the full effect of everything that the package offers, but for now, i get to go layer by layer...piece by piece. and it works.

it works for me. sometimes i just have to lay my head back, feel the breeze, and sigh....other times, i just have to crack up laughing.....other times, i just have to shake my head and remember that this isn't what i'm used to. and that's so good for me. it's enriching. even invigorating, i'd say. yeah.