Life and Its Curveballs

How life sometimes snuggles up to us and how other times it gives us the cold shoulder.  It can be both a hot lover and a deceptive enemy to us.  This year as of May has revealed that in more than one way.

After all is said and done, I will move to Barcelona, Spain this August.  A place that has been deeply imbedded in my heart since I studied there 2 summers ago.  It wasn't that it was particularly easy, but the mixture of manchego, tapas, markets, language, spirited and yet serious folk, made it seem a desirable location; a place I could inevitably get lost in.  One can walk through the mosaic filled Park Guell or float on top of La Pedrera.  One can feel their feet aching to stomp along with the flamenco dancers.  The magic of the beach, the mountains, the old and the new, hillsides and cobblestone streets.  For some reason, it just felt right.  And I am hoping that the arrows are also pointing in a positive direction, with Gianpaolo at my side, and old friends providing new contacts and other friends preplanning visits.

And yet, tonight, I was also accepted to one of the best programs in the US for my Masters in Arts in International Education Development.  And on one hand, I want it badly and the other hand, the possibility of it happening, means that it could happen again at any point.

And so it is, life and its curveballs every other second they are floating at one pace or another straight at you, like the slight magic of the Chavista, a spoon full of sugar on a cloudy day.  And the opportunity to run my first marathon in a city I love surrounded by people I love..

Let things go and anything is possible...

Beating around Brazil

Brazil, before arriving I thought of Bebel and Astrud Gilberto, beautiful oiled beach bodies, beef skewers of the churrasceria sort and caipirinhas, it was that, but not much more. 

Brazil is a country of old and new with like characteristics of an 80s New York city.  It's diverse, not one Brazilian looks alike, in fact, it was often easy to get lumped into a Brazilian when in Rio de Janeiro and Sao Paolo.  It's buildings range from colorful, colonistic houses to steel skyscrapers and the occasional fancy new apartment building.  Even the language, Portuguese, sounds like an eclectic mix of Spanish, Italian, French and perhaps, Russian mixed together in a blend that comes out beautifully but is extremely challenging to understand.  I spoke Spanish to try to get by but that only got me so far, and in reality, it made me realize how much we often don't listen to each other as human beings when we are trying to get our point across. 

Starting with Sao Paolo, Christa and I cruised around with a local middle-upper class engineer named Enrique.  Enrique represents the globalized Brazil in a nutshell.  He has worked in Egypt, Spain and now returned home to Sao Paolo.  He speaks Spanish, English and Portuguese fluently and he was a fan of good food, beautiful sights and surrounded himself with wonderful people.  We ate amazing pizza, drank ridiculously overpriced caipirinhas and cruised through the streets of Sao Paolo.  He took us through markets overflowing with local produce.  Then, through streets lined with pole dance performers and drunken dancing samba-ers. 

2 days later I was off to Salvador, the center of Afro-Brazilian culture with brick layed streets, amazing coconut, African/ Indian influenced shrimp dishes, music that made you think you could change the world by dancing and Cappoeira dancers that put Olympic gymnasts to shame.  Peleurinho was a charming city filled with smiling faces and fun hanging heavy in the air. 

Finally, I made it back down to Rio De Janeiro.  Renowned for it's beautiful beaches and mountains surrounding the city, it fused Capetown, Seoul and Barcelona, in it's character, beach culture and aching to be fun. 

Will I return to Brazil, perhaps, one day, but for now, I think there are different corners to investigate.  Brazil has the reputation of being one of those countries with it all: food, fun, culture, beauty and history.  It is a wonderful place but for me, it was no Morocco or Italy or India, but that could be the bias Asian in my heart. 

Abriggada..

The world is exploding all around me and I feel like I am standing still.

Just over a few weeks ago, Egypt stunned the world in its ability to come together via social media and protest, energize, reunite and bring down a leader that tormented so many of its country's citizens for years. Throughout the course of the 2-week span, I craved to be in the Middle East, as numerous Syrian, Lebanese and Egyptian friends posted facebook updates verbalizing their desire for freedom and cranked out political emails to their friends around the world, so people really understood what this fight was about.  It was all beautifully executed and for the first time, potentially ever, voices were infectious and stories and information exchanged so that multiple perspectives were assessed, evaluated, contemplated and examined.  As international bosses of internet workers, janitors and school teachers, received phone calls "I won't be at work today.  I am protesting!"  Brilliant! I feel like that we should all say that line like that to our bosses in our lives, to remind them and ourselves that we are living.

3 days ago, an earthquake 8.4 on the Richter scale rocked Japan, causing tidal waves to spread across the Pacific Ocean in many different directions. Meanwhile, I sat in a doctor's office for 2 hours as Spanish CNN covered the whole situation.  Japan has leant its hand to help out countries around the world for as long as I can remember, and yet, the country is so isolated and independently quirky.  It will be interesting to see whether the Japanese can bashfully take help from others when they have always been such a strong force internationally.

The question I ask myself and ask my readers, is where were you when this happened? And what was happening around you?  What were you doing to help or hurt the world?  Were you a part of history?

The more I live, the more I crave to be a part of the world's angst and passion, to be caught in these moments and reflect, help and dissect their meanings.  And yet, here I am in Caracas and big dilemmas consist of challenging the Cada managers, deliberating over what fruteria to go to and trying to challenge people to think of how this country could explode magically.  Perhaps, it comes across as threatening.  By no means is this my intention, and I am so immune to attacks on the US now, I probably do it subconsciously.  But, when it comes down to it, I like talking about what makes a country difficult or wonderful because if we don't then we will never be able to improve upon what we are.   I mean I guess it goes back to the discussion I have had with so many friends about is the Western influence necessary, but I think if you have started developing as a country, it's hard to revert back to not developing.  And for me Caracas, I am not sure what's happening here.  There's a lot of running races.  There's a lot of young people my age who are educated trying to leave the country.  There's an opposition party to Chavez found on little less than the fact that they don't like Chavez.. There's some cool markets, bubble wars and excessive amounts of big boobs.  There are some charming cabs sporting Virgin Mary stickers wallpapering the ceilings or Andy Warhol positive negative Jesus decals.  There's some mountains that circle the city lined with colorful brick houses stacked on top of each other that seem to create an invisible blanket of energy warming the city.  There are positives, there are negatives but for me it is so hard to live in a city that aches with potential and yet I am not really be able to fully articulate or exchange ideas with the locals at the level I desire to try and plant the seeds of transformative change.  I don't think it needs to be more western, I just want to the people to have the same energy as the city that surrounds them and I want to feel magic and not feel like I am standing still.

I remember being in Madrid and wandering down the streets and people walking up to Kristen and I yelling, cheering, dancing around us, it was like we were drowning in people's energy that surrounded us.  And here, you walk around at 9 o' clock at night and there's hardly anyone outside in particular parts of the city because it's rumored to be too dangerous...

Stand up, get out and live, damn it!

Another morning run through the most dangerous city in the world...

It started at 4:30 am.  2 alarms pushed down and determined to go along with the techno beat that would happily accompany me an hour and a half later, I wrestled with my sheets and climbed out of bed and zombie walked around my room trying to find the running clothes I had set out the previous evening.

I stuffed an over ripe banana down and threw some fun size snickers bars and my ipod (essentials) into my pack.  It was time for my 5th half marathon...

Andres came to pick me up and stated we would drive instead of take the bus, which would leave us lurking around the race site for an extra 40 minutes.  As we passed the club goers and aroma of rum accompanied by reggaeton beats, I had to admit I was slightly envious of those going home to most likely have drunken playful morning sex, meanwhile, I would be cruising through the barrio running a half marathon.  Then, I thought practically and at the end of it, jealous still, I realized inevitably, I would feel better after it all.

Bananas and snickers bars down, I had a nervous bathroom stop and realized that my stomach was virtually empty then.  I should make it through on two days of carb loading, I thought and hoped. Fingers crossed.

As the race started, I strategically placed myself about halfway back behind the other runners and bounced anxiously around, put in my ear plugs and waited for it to begin.

As we set off, something quite spectacular happened, we plummeted into a underpass tunnel and the running crowd erupted and then another, and cheers were rampant echoing across the cave like walls at 6 am.. What an energizing way to start the race.  As we continued up a small hill, I saw the back drop of the 80s architecture that once upon a time back in the day trumped the entire world in modernity.  It looked rather gray and dreary perched against a peachy, flesh toned sky with cracks of yellow light trying to poke through the heavy cloud wall.

The temperature couldn't have been more than 70 degrees and we were off.  As we cruised past the closing clubs and people rising to the morning light, half naked bodies hung out their windows cheering and night shift workers looked at us wearing ragged expressions of confusion and tiredness.

We passed corners, malls, through parts of barrios that I had never done on foot and all in all, as we ran through these parts of town, where many of these upper class runners would not dare set foot in normal circumstances, we were invincible and furthermore, we were respected for our courage, dedication and perseverance to get out there and do something for our bodies and ourselves.

And having a set of folks at 16 that smiled and encouraged "Vamos, Heather. Que bueno" and a stranger who let me steal his banana while in the midst of nearly passing out.  Followed by Mariel's mother whose smile and "Go heather" brought me in at 20 km, it was a lovely race.  And clocking in at 1:50 with the near fainting episode was good enough for me.

So when all else fails for enlightenment, take a run through one of the world's most dangerous neighborhoods, enjoy the cool breeze and gulp down the energy drinks as they come in and run away the deaths, crime, rapes and poverty that soak the city and imagine a world of hope, dreams and possibility.

A Social Revolution

Nearly 2 weeks ago, I watched the movie "The Social Network" which discusses Mark Zuckerberg's idea for Facebook and took us through his ingenius and over-intellectual rants,  I found the piece highly entertaining and I do believe that Facebook has indeed improved how we exchange information.  In a time where hyper intellectuals romp grounds without work or without stimulating work, facebook provides a place for us to share and exchange information and start revolutions and connect with friends who are half a world away on a daily, hourly basis.  We have never been as connected as we are at the moment.

Egypt's president Mubarak just stepped down and it was largely in part due to the communication and rallying through the internet.  Furthermore, I have yet to witness in my 30 years, the world come together and support a fight for a Middle Eastern country.  As many reporters have dually noted, it seems that all of us are Egyptians and believe that we deserve more and better from our governments and from our lives. 

As this constant exchange of information educates and reeducates people, I hope it is only a matter of time before countries say "Enough is enough."  God knows that needs to happen where I currently live, in a state where gasoline is cheaper than water.  God knows it needs to happen in the US where students are plagued by college loans but can not find a decent paying job.  Heaven knows it needs to happen in North Korea where a number of people are eternally hungry and live in fear of their own government. 

I can only hope that this social revolution spreads like monsoon rains across the world in a firey wave causing energy to rain and pour with hope.

The Year of Living Dangerously

It's January 9, 2011 and already an article has been published predicting the countries most likely to go to war in 2011 or to have civil unrest.  Of course, I am living in one of them.  Shocking!  I attract mishaps, danger but rarely complete destruction.  Of the other 12 mentioned, I plan to visit 2 of them in the upcoming month: Columbia and Haiti.

One might ask "Why?" Quite frankly, I believe 'Why not?' We must make our own truths and I am one that continues to hope and believe that there is an ultimate beauty in the face of chaos.  Somehow beneath the hunger, the ones challenged by their government and the ones challenging their government, the pain and frustration, their is hope in the faces and kindness of humanity.  Additionally, there is a curiosity and a life force that makes us want to know and understand and improve our daily lives.  Even if we can't live under the crooked umbrella of many of our governments, we have to believe that we can make our lives wonderful independently and have dreams.

So, I will continue to stay here and try to bring out those dreams in this upcoming project.  The beforeidieiwantto project aims to humanize polarized cultures and make people realize that we all have very similar dreams no matter where we come from and that ultimately, with connection and dedication, we can help each other fulfill those dreams.  Venezuela needs this project, it needs something even if it's something small to bring people together.  And though it might be dangerous the idea of rich and poor, over educated and undereducated stories all being highlighted under the same roof, these stories need to be illuminated and shared with each other as a country and with the world.

In Haiti, I have no objectives but to see a friend and be spiritually uplifted by our connections.  Perhaps, with that initiative, the one of not having an initiative, I will see more than I anticipate or want to.  However, as an educator, right now, the only place to be is in countries like this, living dangerously.  Maybe? Or maybe, we are actually just living aloud and real life and change are happening directly in front of our faces instead of under the surface in newspapers slowly.  This thing of experiential learning; of being a part of history instead of reading about it in the newspapers. There's something to be said for that and oral histories and narratives passed on to children, friends and colleagues around the world will provide a deeper, if slightly opinionated insight that we always don't get from reading the New York times.

Finally, in Columbia, I will head to do a seminar on cross-cultural leadership training.  To be perfectly honest, I am not sure whether this seminar is being conducted in English or Spanish.  I am capable of either but it will be whole if it is in Spanish with the cross cultural aspect.  Still, after Columbia being romanticized as the rejuvenated country of South America's north side this past year, I look forward to seeing the dynamics at work if people believe war is slowly brewing under the surface.  In Venezuela, Columbia is seen as the white swan and Venezuela as the black one from these side of the tracks, but see no evil, hear no evil.. I guess.

So, in true fashion of a year of living dangerously, I will not write about other travel plans or possible adventures.  We'll see what happens and cross my fingers that I always remain just on the outside of the circle of action but close enough to where I can see and create somewhat of a valid perspective.

Here's to the crazy ones...

another year, another breath

So there's many things to touch upon here.  Truth is I always say I will blog about everything and incredible moment that passed but I was trying to stay as far away from technology as possible while in Madrid and Morocco. (It felt quite liberating to be free from the desire to check Facebook repeatedly) And in staying away from technology, it might cause a lot of my trips and experiences to be smushed together.  Hopefully it will come out in a delicious smorsey smush instead of something like a garbage disposal..

I'll start with Madrid.  Going to Spain and being able to communicate in Spanish and not being responded to with a "Que?" and grumpy look on one's face was good.  It was good for my confidence, it was great because it reaffirmed my love affair with Spain and finally it was good because it reinforced that I have learned something in Venezuela when it comes to Spanish.  My reunion with Kristen can be summed up briefly, it involved copious copas de vino, dirty packs of cigarettes (yes, this was a downfall as I have been doing so good on the quit train in VZ) and chat that streamed on non-stop for 2 days.  How friends can pick you up, like they are fireman carrying you and you fall asleep with a smile on your face, simply because you are at peace, you feel like you are surrounded by people that get it.  You don't have to go into huge details because they know and they give you immediate support, feedback, etc that your ears have ached to hear for 5 months.  Some people just know exactly what to say to you and when it's in person and a hug and glass of wine and much more can be shared, it's almost a spiritual experience.

Moving onto Morocco.  What a country! It's definitely up there in the top 5 of the 32 countries I have done so far.  Incredible.  The kindness of Middle easterners, the sophistication of the Europeans, the color and chaos of Africa.  I loved this place.  It's made me remember how we should eat, especially when you have access to markets and fresh animals, produce, etc.  It's made me realize how many of us are not on regular salaries and depend so much on each other.  And, I truly believe it is a model country for predominantly Muslim countries.  In a European sense, people are living and that is what is most essential.  I guess visiting Spain before put this somewhat into perspective. 20-25% of Spain's population is currently unemployed and yet, every corner we turned people were having fun.  I love the energy of it.  Just as in Morocco, people lived in what a lot of westerners would  consider poverty, but I definitely believe I experienced the most hospitality I have ever in Morocco.  Additionally, people smiled and didn't judge outwardly.

All in all, Morocco was fabulous because of the people surrounding me.  Again, what would our lives be without our friends; our people.  Kristen, Kenny, Christophe, Mark, Jen, Laetitia and Jerome made the trip memorable.  Our cooking class, spectacular show, tanneries with Kristen's future husband Adana, the amazing race fez cap challenge, running to Carrefour to buy 18 bottles of vino, new year's eve with the best lamb of my life and the local band.  All of these moments complimented the crew and near perfect weather making Morocco an incredibly rejuvenating experience for me.

So, now I am back in Caracas.  Reflecting on my wonderful vacation, having a bit of holiday bliss and holiday blues simultaneously.  I recently read Everett Bogue's blog again and he discussed the importance of intuition.  I booked my ticket to Morocco in August even before all my little Venezuelan dramas had unfolded but intuitively I knew it was something that was going to need to happen.   I fell a bit off the band wagon with intuition over the last few months.  However, I think I am going to need it more than ever the next 6 months.  Another year, another breath...