Last night we had friends of ours over to visit and hear about their recent trip to the U.S. They managed to visit several cities and see lots of stuff in only a few weeks and their photos were gorgeous! E and I listened attentively to their stories and impressions of the States and I was so happy for them that they felt welcome to America during their stay. No crazy immigration, customs stories. No racism poking its head into their trip. During these last few years, I've listened to many different friends talk about their recent experiences in the States and I'm always happy to hear that they were developing positive attitudes about Americans and the country. However, a little part of me remains insanely jealous. That these friends, while all intelligent, employed contributing citizens of Mexico were able to get travel visas without issue. And Edgar isn't. Then my anger turns towards the government. Not because we have borders, or that we "thoroughly" screen visa applicants (some more than others...). But that the U.S. government makes it so complicated and difficult. Having to wade through paperwork cascades on E's last visa interview left us spinning. It's a wonder we arrived at the moment of the interview at all.
But the whole process left me speechless. Countless examples of the government trying to make it absolutely as difficult as possible to merely come and spend tourist dollars. The filing fee is crazy high for most people wishing to visit. Then there's conflicting information about which form you need, and what supportive paperwork you need to present as evidence. The actual in person interview requires a trip to the embassy in a major city (which some applicants may have to WALK to) and another obscene amount of money to be, in E's words, "treated like a farm animal" once inside the embassy. Add to this equation that the paperwork is in ENGLISH. and not layman's terms either. What does the average citizen without an american girlfriend/interpreter do?
Hard to believe that with this awful experience a few years ago, we're almost poised to do it again. And we're the lucky ones. We have the resources to run around to complete the paperwork, pay the fees, arrive to the embassy. And I like to think too that we have strong enough convictions and characters to withstand the humiliation of the process and the possible rejection. I try not to be cynical about the U.S. government. I would love to believe that it's doing great things and helping lots of people. I love my country and all that it's allowed me to do, the priviledges it allows me in the world. But I can't help but begin to distance myself and feel rejected by a government that doesn't let me live the life I want. Especially since this life doesn't hurt anyone, doesn't break the law and aims to contribute to a better world.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Happy Campers
With E's birthday on Saturday, we were hoping to get a short camping trip in to celebrate but with his work schedule it doesn't look like it's going to happen. So I was looking back at some camping photos from previous trips. By sheer luck, I got to spend my birthday this year not only in Baja but also waking up on a gorgeous beach. We spent the day fishing, snorkelling and lounging around. E is a genius at "cooking" on the beach, with or without a flame or single burner stove. He's taught me lots - how to keep the top of the cooler (your work surface) intact as you realize you have to open the cooler for a forgotten ingredient, how to wash dishes with sand and the art of cooking in a single pot.
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| 2011 Birthday-Morning View! |
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| M's first Road Trip & Camping Trip - we were alone on this beach for 2 days. Saw Dolphins from the beach every few hours! |
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| One of my all time fav's - washing dishes. M was still afraid of the ocean then |
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| An Oldie - this is E and mine's very first trip camping together. This is the same trip as the "octopus in its own ink" incident for those who know it!!! |
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| Fishermen cleaning lunch - my first camping trip with the whole banda (group) - 2008 |
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| So much fun to have everyone there! |
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Hum-Drum Week
Compared to our dive adventure last week this week has been a little excitement-free. The dog and I have been hanging around the house more than usual this week in an effort to save on gas. Every morning between 330am-4am the neighbor's roosters (yes, plural) start crowing. They have very distinct calls and usually take their turns 1-2-3 but occasionally the third rooster gets too wrapped up in his calls and breaks the pattern. I know this because although rooster #1 has an low, short call and rooster #2 has a mid-level, longer tone (classic), rooster #3 has a high-pitched squawk that sounds as if someone is chasing it with a butcher's knife. Which someday, somebody probably will, but not likely at 4am. E and I have joked that this rooster sounds as if it is arriving from hell every morning, banshee-style. Now, once the roosters have woken you up, you have to get up and pee. The walk to the bathroom in the dark house is punctuated by the roosters' crows that get louder as you get to the bathroom because this room is at the back of the house and it's tiled so the sound echoes as well.
This is just one of the sounds that greet you in the morning. After the roosters wake up all the other animals, the labrador and german shephard start barking from the same neighbor's yard. And they bark every 30 seconds or so until their breakfasts are served - which is not until 8am or so. Add to the crowing and the barking, our neighbor to the side's chihuahua which starts whining upon hearing the bigger dogs barking from over the fence. Our bedroom window faces this side neighbor's yard so we get the full effect of the whine. The whine wakes up the neighbor, a woman in her early 40's, who then turns on FULL BLAST one of her 2 favorite CDs at the moment. Take your pick between "Creedance Clearwater Revival's Greatest Hits" or an album I can't even imagine what its name is but is basically a collection of 1 young female singer, singing in spanish (and with non-corresponding lyrics - so annoying!) pop hits from the 80's and 90's. The CD contains, "Every Breath You Take", "Piano Man", "Unbreak My Heart", "Total Eclipse of the Heart" among others. I think I actually prefer the CCR album if only because it's the original versions of the songs. The younger mexican singer on the second album makes you think you're hearing the original versions but it's not as satisfying. And because our neighbor hasn't figured out all the words to the CCR album so she can't sing along as she does with the Cover Songs Album. And she sings at the top of her lungs, usually adding a poetic, "ay! ay! aaaaay!" to the particularly sad moments of "Unbreak My Heart".
So once her music (and possible singing) are added to the mix, we know it's time to get out of bed and for E to go to work. Once M hears our activity in the house, he starts crying and scratching at the front door for an early playtime. Sitting on the patio reading emails and blogs after E leaves, I still bear witness to the cacaphony. The singing neighbor goes to work, but her chihuahua continues to whine. The roosters continue regularly until about 10am. The neighborhood comes to life as the sun comes up over the mountain. Cars and trucks without mufflers race through the neighborhood (for the first time in my life I find myself thinking, "slow down! there are children and animals playing here!"), some busses ramble through. And the pick-up trucks selling various produce and products start winding their way through the streets, playing either their jingles or loug voiceovers to announce that they're on their way. The pick-up truck selling big containers of water is the most punctual. I nearly always clock them between 7:32-7:34am. Scattered throughout the morning, we are also offered tomatoes, bananas, propane tanks, ice cream and the occasional Christian outreach. All this activity gives M plenty of opportunities to race down the length of the yard to see who is passing by the gate.
As you've probably guessed by now there are no noise ordinances in this town. No noise "pollution". Which means we cannot report our neighbors for their barking dogs or music that blasts until 6am. E was surprised when I first brought up the noise issue - he could hardly believe someone could actually be fined or go to jail for making noise on their own property. The noise used to really annoy me but I think I've grown used to it now. Makes it feel more cozy around here if you just know how to combat the noise (e.g. earplugs, turning fan on to make white noise, closing the windows, etc). Writing this now, I'm reminded of one particularly rowdy night we had at the house. Several friends were over and we were singing, yelling, playing music and carrying on and I must've said something about how much noise we were making, as it was pretty late. E said something like, "Oh who cares?? All our neighbors make so much noise at other times, it's our turn!!" And he started barking like a dog! Then another friend start crowing like a rooster, another making engine "vroom" noises. I stared in disbelief. Then I joined in - "baaahing" like the goat that our neighbor had at the time. We made quite a symphony! Some pics from our Sunday -
This is just one of the sounds that greet you in the morning. After the roosters wake up all the other animals, the labrador and german shephard start barking from the same neighbor's yard. And they bark every 30 seconds or so until their breakfasts are served - which is not until 8am or so. Add to the crowing and the barking, our neighbor to the side's chihuahua which starts whining upon hearing the bigger dogs barking from over the fence. Our bedroom window faces this side neighbor's yard so we get the full effect of the whine. The whine wakes up the neighbor, a woman in her early 40's, who then turns on FULL BLAST one of her 2 favorite CDs at the moment. Take your pick between "Creedance Clearwater Revival's Greatest Hits" or an album I can't even imagine what its name is but is basically a collection of 1 young female singer, singing in spanish (and with non-corresponding lyrics - so annoying!) pop hits from the 80's and 90's. The CD contains, "Every Breath You Take", "Piano Man", "Unbreak My Heart", "Total Eclipse of the Heart" among others. I think I actually prefer the CCR album if only because it's the original versions of the songs. The younger mexican singer on the second album makes you think you're hearing the original versions but it's not as satisfying. And because our neighbor hasn't figured out all the words to the CCR album so she can't sing along as she does with the Cover Songs Album. And she sings at the top of her lungs, usually adding a poetic, "ay! ay! aaaaay!" to the particularly sad moments of "Unbreak My Heart".
So once her music (and possible singing) are added to the mix, we know it's time to get out of bed and for E to go to work. Once M hears our activity in the house, he starts crying and scratching at the front door for an early playtime. Sitting on the patio reading emails and blogs after E leaves, I still bear witness to the cacaphony. The singing neighbor goes to work, but her chihuahua continues to whine. The roosters continue regularly until about 10am. The neighborhood comes to life as the sun comes up over the mountain. Cars and trucks without mufflers race through the neighborhood (for the first time in my life I find myself thinking, "slow down! there are children and animals playing here!"), some busses ramble through. And the pick-up trucks selling various produce and products start winding their way through the streets, playing either their jingles or loug voiceovers to announce that they're on their way. The pick-up truck selling big containers of water is the most punctual. I nearly always clock them between 7:32-7:34am. Scattered throughout the morning, we are also offered tomatoes, bananas, propane tanks, ice cream and the occasional Christian outreach. All this activity gives M plenty of opportunities to race down the length of the yard to see who is passing by the gate.
As you've probably guessed by now there are no noise ordinances in this town. No noise "pollution". Which means we cannot report our neighbors for their barking dogs or music that blasts until 6am. E was surprised when I first brought up the noise issue - he could hardly believe someone could actually be fined or go to jail for making noise on their own property. The noise used to really annoy me but I think I've grown used to it now. Makes it feel more cozy around here if you just know how to combat the noise (e.g. earplugs, turning fan on to make white noise, closing the windows, etc). Writing this now, I'm reminded of one particularly rowdy night we had at the house. Several friends were over and we were singing, yelling, playing music and carrying on and I must've said something about how much noise we were making, as it was pretty late. E said something like, "Oh who cares?? All our neighbors make so much noise at other times, it's our turn!!" And he started barking like a dog! Then another friend start crowing like a rooster, another making engine "vroom" noises. I stared in disbelief. Then I joined in - "baaahing" like the goat that our neighbor had at the time. We made quite a symphony! Some pics from our Sunday -
Monday, November 7, 2011
Swear Words
Back at it after being unable to write for awhile...had an interesting conversation with a friend this past weekend on a subject that E and I have been discussing lately. In my education in the spanish language I've memorized many things. Grammar and vocabulary aside there's been so many lessons rooted in mexican culture, body language and slang words. I learned the framework and the grammar rules in high school spanish and a lot of if came back (and there's a lot I'm still waiting to "click"). But I really feel like I didn't start learning the language until I became immersed in it. So many little quirks are not teach-able in a classroom.
Things like introductions and greetings are so straightforward when read in a textbook, but become muddled with situation details when experienced in real life. How to address different people in the world when meeting for the first time, the second time, etc. How to greet someone in a loud bar vs. at a business meeting. And I don't mean the mere "tu vs. ud" stuff - how shake hands, where to look, phrases to use. I tried to learn these rules when I came and then realized that beyond the rules, every person is different. For more examples - how to excuse oneself from a conversation, how to make offers to people or invite them to a place or do to something, how to talk on the telephone (yes even that feels different). I was blindsided by these things when I arrived and am still learning the technicalities each and every day.
Additionally there are so many language and cultural nuances that I'm convinced cannot be taught at all. One must just feel them. E has told me before that when he watches american movies or tv and a character says a swear word, that he doesn't feel anything. The word is just a sound to him, it doesn't carry any weight. This was so interesting a concept to me. I thought about when I use strong words in spanish and how I feel the same way. E and I have had to ask each other to rank the "weight" of a bad word, e.g. "How bad is this bad word? Is it worse than <insert other bad word here>? Would I say it to my mother?" Somehow our mothers have become the barometer for common conversation acceptability. When I hear swear words in english, I feel something because I've grown up knowing the weight of those words. In spanish, I sometimes wonder if I speak too strongly. E has told me the basics of swear words and their usage, but it takes reading the situation to know what kind of language is acceptable. And it appears there are unlimited "kinds" of spanish - as there are of english as well. Difference being that because english is my native language, it's more inside me than spanish. I can call on it without thinking, read between the lines of dialogue someone else is telling me to infer meaning or dishonesty or easily relate the words to other conversations or ideas I've had. Some days it feels like this ability is out of my grasp and lightyears away from my understanding of spanish.
Just thinking about this while writing has stirred up so many other "language barrier" stories that E and I have shared. Perhaps future posts...Until then some pics from our dive trip last week - no language needed underwater!
Things like introductions and greetings are so straightforward when read in a textbook, but become muddled with situation details when experienced in real life. How to address different people in the world when meeting for the first time, the second time, etc. How to greet someone in a loud bar vs. at a business meeting. And I don't mean the mere "tu vs. ud" stuff - how shake hands, where to look, phrases to use. I tried to learn these rules when I came and then realized that beyond the rules, every person is different. For more examples - how to excuse oneself from a conversation, how to make offers to people or invite them to a place or do to something, how to talk on the telephone (yes even that feels different). I was blindsided by these things when I arrived and am still learning the technicalities each and every day.
Additionally there are so many language and cultural nuances that I'm convinced cannot be taught at all. One must just feel them. E has told me before that when he watches american movies or tv and a character says a swear word, that he doesn't feel anything. The word is just a sound to him, it doesn't carry any weight. This was so interesting a concept to me. I thought about when I use strong words in spanish and how I feel the same way. E and I have had to ask each other to rank the "weight" of a bad word, e.g. "How bad is this bad word? Is it worse than <insert other bad word here>? Would I say it to my mother?" Somehow our mothers have become the barometer for common conversation acceptability. When I hear swear words in english, I feel something because I've grown up knowing the weight of those words. In spanish, I sometimes wonder if I speak too strongly. E has told me the basics of swear words and their usage, but it takes reading the situation to know what kind of language is acceptable. And it appears there are unlimited "kinds" of spanish - as there are of english as well. Difference being that because english is my native language, it's more inside me than spanish. I can call on it without thinking, read between the lines of dialogue someone else is telling me to infer meaning or dishonesty or easily relate the words to other conversations or ideas I've had. Some days it feels like this ability is out of my grasp and lightyears away from my understanding of spanish.
Just thinking about this while writing has stirred up so many other "language barrier" stories that E and I have shared. Perhaps future posts...Until then some pics from our dive trip last week - no language needed underwater!
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