Dear Mr. Chavez

Dear Mr. Chavez,

      I am not sure where to start.  You see, I lived in your unbelievable country for 14 months.  I had the opportunity to travel to the amazing islands, beaches, to Angel falls; one of the natural wonders of the world.  A country with green waves of forest, a country with beaches untouched and charismatic, a country with people who love to dance, sing and hope for a better time.  A country I believe has the potential to be the Thailand and Maldives of the Western hemisphere, and yet, I hugely respect you not wanting to share this because you want Venezuela to be for Venezuelans and that is something that many of the westernized countries I have lived in, including my own, could learn from.
      I worked with the most elitist and also with many of your supporters.  Working at Escuela Campo Alegre, I had the opportunity to meet some of the most educated and professional people I have met in the field of education.  Completing the project "Antes del fin," I worked with pilots, sociologists, photographers, artists, all who have contributed and will contribute more to your country.  I dated a Chavista who idolized your views like you were a God, so much that I started to see some of them as potential truths for a better world, in ways.
      I was fortunate enough to live in a posh area of Caracas, surrounded by green and beautiful housing.  On the contrary, I was lucky enough to travel into the barrios to watch theatre and see how the other side lives.  I am confident that you are a good influence on the people in the barrios.  Their lives seemed comfortable and not much different from mine in Las Mercedes, but still something lingered.   I ran through neighborhoods my colleagues were scared of during the half marathon.  I regularly took public transportation both buses and the metro and walked around during the day.
     And yet, I stand here wishing that it had been the other man who was elected.  Why you might ask, if you have experienced some of the wonders of Venezuela?  And why, if you hold socialist principles like you have stated?
    The thing is, I was terrified.  I was unconfident to let someone, I wanted to employ, a way to help out the underprivileged in your country, clean my house, because I felt that they would steal from me.   And both times, they did.  On top of this, I was robbed on the street for a $20 phone.  If these were only my stories, you could say I was paranoid or stereotyping a country, but the horrors I heard exceed any of any other countries I have lived in or my friends have lived in. Double robberies within hours on the walk to work, babies lives being threatened, airport kidnappings, murders at pharmacies.   And it is not okay that people live in fear; preferring to get in a taxi with someone who has been drinking, then a taxi driver who might kidnap them.  It is not alright that I was terrified to take out my phone in public in fear that anyone might come up to me on the street and take it away.  I was frustrated for my Spanish friend who could not take her son out for a walk during the day because another friend´s baby was held at gunpoint.  This is not how people live; socialism or not.  This is not what we "humans" call living.
    They say you have 6 more years.  It is your time to make Venezuela for Venezuelans.  That means making it a place where people can take back the streets, take back the night and demonstrate everything that their country is to the world.
    So, Mr. Chavez, I challenge you to rise to the occasion and make it the place people want to call home.  You have a long way to go.  45% of your country does not believe you can do it.
   For them and the rest of the world, I do hope you can.

Saludos,
Heather Onderick

Carry on, An Experiment in International Living on the Camino De Santiago

Our shoes were tied, feet already sweating in thick socks, water bottles filled and ready to go and all by a chirpy 5:30 am.  Starting in Pamplona and ending about 350 km later, in Ponferrada, here is a quick glimpse into the world I experienced while walking the Camino De Santiago this summer. 

There we were, Heather and Heather, 20 minutes after watching the running bulls and then being led out of Estella, Spain by a helpful old man who wanted to dictate the entire history of the town to us.  We promised him, "another time," and carried on.  As we neared the path guided by yellow arrows on buildings, glances exchanged, we knew this was going to be a long, tiring day.  We´d had our best night so far, 3 days into the trip, bull watching and dancing with locals, a dinner with an association of students. Nevertheless, an evening on the Camino de Santiago out until 1:30 am, I learned shortly after, was a rare, wondrous and slightly dangerous thing.  

As we began day 4 of our walk, happy to see some pine canopies draped above our heads, taking shelter from the powerful sun.  Shortly later, right next to the Fuente Del Vino, as if by some strange stroke of luck, fellow hungover friends on the Camino, we met Alex, Antoine and Rudolph, some of our best of the Camino friends.  Young, worldly French/ German boys who could charm a cockroach, we delighted in their antics, conversation and ridiculousness for the next week.  Some of the moments included: the early morning Birthday song and presentation to Ms. Rich; getting run out of churches by wirey, old ladies; getting lost on the golf course, eating for kings in Burgos; the Whitney Houston serenade in the plaza; and long good talks about travels, futures, relationships and more.  As far as the generation underneath mine, often  being called detached and not present; Alex, Antoine and Rudolph gave me hope that the future of tomorrow is on the right track. 

The more we walked, the easier it became.  Sometimes, Heather and I walked together.  Other times, nearly 20 minutes apart.  From Burgos to Leon, after Heather returned to Munich, I was often alone and with my thoughts, intoxicated by the nature around me, overflowing energy combined with some tunes I will forever associate with the Camino inspiring great warmth within my body.  

And then, there were walking partners,  Paki and Fernando, from Maturo, who were like surrogate parents, making sure that I was always comfortable, okay, healthy, etc.   There was Beni, a 57 year old Madridleno, with a love for ladies and a vinito.  And, Roberto, a man with a heart of gold, who would dish the world out for you on a platter, if you let him.  Roberto and Beni, were more after walking companions.  We´d meet for a drink or dinner, or a laugh.  Hannah and Adam, a young British couple who saved me in the last three dry, deserted days of the Burgos to Leon stage when I was aching for company.  Italian friends, who tried to communicate by listening in Spanish, responding in Italian, broken English or Spanish.  And that pretty much was the whole nature of the trip, just a group of people, ranging in age from 7 to 87,  trying to get by and wanting to understand each other.  Just think of what could happen in the real world, if people worked as hard to understand one another as they did each day on the Camino.  The funny thing, is that, the communication was often the easy part compared to some of the long days of walking. One night at dinner in Carrion de Los Condes, there was Italians, French, American, Spanish and somehow, four different nationalities in a table of 6. We managed, laughed and shared gigantic grins. 

The translation for El Camino is "the way." And I believe it´s because everyone is doing just that: finding their way in life, love, work, spirituality or just not getting lost as they walk across a country.  For me, it was a way to get to know a country better, its people, its ideas, its landscapes, its hopes and fears.  It was also a way to gain patience, acceptance and more appreciation for nature and it inspired me to be more and do more.  You know you are doing something right when the energy of the earth shoots up through your feet, lifting your head a little higher, giving you healthy natural encouragement to carry on.  Carry on, indeed.

The Great American 5-Sense Summer Walk.

Whenever I return home to the United States in the summer, I begin a long walk down a memory road of summers.  Being a sensual person, this walk involves all 5 senses and usually begins with some mouthwatering summer food memories.
My mother's barbecue ribs, a true American indulgence, caramelized, savory and finger licking good reminding me always of how food is so much better when you can eat with your hands. Being anywhere between the ages of 5 and 15 sitting around eating piece by piece of watermelon, smiles glued to our faces, discussing how many watermelons would grow in our stomachs before we would evolve into watermelon volcanoes sputtering out mushy pink guck and black seeds.  And finally popsicles, the summery treat that keeps on giving and leaves a sugary imprint on your face after each one.
With all these amazing tastes comes smells that collide and generate a whole different presentation of memories.  There is the smell of campfires, which resurrects childhood memories of summer camp songs, cabin mates, cool lake air, the forbidden holding of hands during Russian camp summers.  Colliding in the air with campfires is sunscreen and bug spray, otherwise known as coconut Deet perfume, when the two sprays mate they reproduce summer.
Whether the cicadas are mating, singing or having their own barbecue, growing up in the midwest, their sound is the summer ballad, chirping away through the heat of the summer sun into the warm hazy nights. Other summer sounds include the always present national anthem at baseball games, whistles blown by lifeguards and the crackle and sizzle off the old grill.
Of course, I can remember the clinging wet bathing suit I would spend 75% of my day in over childhood summers and now, the minute I get to wear my flip flops with an article of clothing that falls above my knees means that summer has arrived.  The hippy child in me thinks of the feeling and smell of cool green summer grass, especially when it was wet in the morning before swim team practice.  And the adult craves the sand in between my toes as I people watch away on the shores of some gorgeous beach.
If you haven´t been able to visualize this great American summer on the walk we´ve gone through, think about the green canopying your world, of giant trees inviting you to climb them and create dreams.  Remember the firefly nights with crystal clear metal lid jars poked with air holes to capture fireflies and use their light as a magical night light.   And in the end, like the end of a dream or a warm summer night, I see the burning embers of a campfire and the small wave of smoke saying goodbye to these special summer memories.
Coming home isn´t always special or purposeful, but it reminds you of what "home" is or can be and how even with all the gallavanting and a third of my life abroad, a large part of me is American, and that´s okay.  I can only hope that where I settle one day stirs up my senses equally and inspires an entry.

Digging around for magic.

This past weekend, the last of May 2012, I got to experience a pretty amazing little something.  The festival de Caracoles in Lleida, Spain blew me away.  Of course, there was the fact that I was flying away on some kind of hedonistic beverage all weekend long, but mainly it was the amazing energy I was surrounded by left, right and center.
When we think of festivals in the United States, various images come to mind.  Often, we can be surrounded by neon lights, deep fried foods and ugly people trimmed heads with cowboy hats and thick woolen plaid shirts.
This itself, shared some resemblances.  Of course, there were a number of tents, a gleaming amusement park in the background and tacky indeed, and finally,various folks sporting cowboy hats amongst other amazing fashion statements I have yet seen since 1992.
Nonetheless, what prevailed was the ever present spirit.  Maybe it was the fact that these snails that were being both celebrated and cooked had climbed out of the world, dug themselves up from the grit and grime to shine a short while and bask in the sunlight.  And maybe, that is one of the reasons that they actually taste so good, is that there lives are short, sweet, magical and they are plentiful on earth but totally challenging to obtain simultaneously.
The spirit ran far beyond the snails´magic.  There were dances following dinner that sparked magic, whistling men in the streets, followed by waving orange bandanas and runs up and down chanting music that made us glow like a pack of fireflies.
"When we are happy, we are good." How Oscar Wilde dictated and how it truly resonates in moments where our thoughts require nothing less than us limiting ourselves to amazement.
Blessed by dance, loving arms, and smiles that illuminate my universe and war me up with the mere thought, I hope everyone once upon a time has the opportunity to dig around for magic just like I did this past weekend.

The Season of Buzz

Today during our literature circles, my high level group, who might be close to the most extraordinarily passionate group of readers I have ever taught were buzzing.  They buzzed about their book: racism, turning points, injustice, and in my head, the whole conversation made me a little envious. I really longed being a part of a book club just like the one we were having in class, guided by a much smarter, more worldly experienced person to lead us and guide us along the way.

These days, so many things are buzzing. My world is alive with holiday experiences, travel destinations that are hanging out around my head doing swirls, laughing and taunting me and saying, just do it.  And why not, we are young... There is this wonderful song by the group Fun, called "We are young." The song goes a bit like this..

Tonight. We are young, so let´s set the world on fire. We can burn brighter than the sun.

I think right now I am beginning to feel that way.  Even though work is the most challenging it´s been in a long time, I cannot complain.  Everyday, I question how I can do things bigger, better and brighter for these kids so that they will be engaged because they love the good stuff.
At the same time, due to the weather (aka shockingly cold for March 21), and working tooooo much, I have not been exercising as much as I should and I know that those outside activities are the ones that make work, family, boys, everything so much easier.

So, as spring equinox unfolds, the bees dashing around the pollen;  the youth pedaling rapidly around the city on Bicing; a new season of fruits, vegetables and culinary wonders spring to life; to all, I say... buzz, buzz, buzz...

What grows beneath

By March of last year, I had experienced so many highs and lows, you would have thought I was having a heart attack if you looked at a heart monitor.  There were beats that blew up, there were beats that made big bangs and there were beats that bellowed sadness and pain.

In 2012,  there has been these silent growths within myself, my life, my understanding of the world that are creeping up through soil and I am hoping that they sprout into something incredible.

One part of my life that has been particularly enchanting is a boy.  After my last shot of love, which lasted approximately 6 months but felt like what I would imagine a heroin injection would, an extreme high, followed by a terribly dreadful low, I am cautious to speak too much of it.  However, the more I talk about it, the more I realize that I am dating a friend.  Someone that I share amazing conversations with that climb up poles like ivy creating these beautiful intertwined plants that energize and support one another.  I am dating someone that enjoys adventures, culinary, travel, pure fun as much as I do and is willing to get lost in order to find.  And, the best part is that the whole thing does not stress me out.  I saw an ex last week and it could have been stressful.  It made me think a bit, but in the end, I felt at peace with my situation and comfortable where I was with myself and no need to make a bigger deal about it than it was.

Another part of life that has been satisfying is work.  I am working with two kind, thoughtful and cooperative people and that has made my work environment both positive and enjoyable.  And even though, I am dealing with by far the most neurotic, behavior issue filled group of students I have ever worked with,  I feel incredibly inspired to help, to teach, to reach out, to problem solve in order to get these kids on track for next year.  It sure hasn´t been easy and success is hard to measure on this front, but I feel like it´s improving and baby steps are key to our progress in general.  Finally,  I have had the opportunity to present, exchange knowledge, attend conferences etc. and learn a whole bunch of new things in a work environment which has been extremely transparent.  A wonderful embraced change!

Finally,  I have been lucky enough to have a recent surge of incredible people in my life all around.  Old friends paying visits to my stomping grounds, connections with friends of friends.  If I can have one wish in my life, it´s in the honor of the traveling funeral novel, I want my friends to have a big blowout when I die.  If I can bring all those amazing people together to celebrate, discuss, laugh, dance and eat while telling stories that we shared around the world, than I will know my life has been something beautiful and that my legend and life will still grow even when I lie beneath the earth. 

Surprises in the Shadows.

This past week was a little treat.  We worked every other day,  I can't even imagine having the luxury to do that with my life all the time.  It was incredible to be able to have fun with friends and not worry about homework or turning into a pumpkin.  It was fantastic to walk around the city and get to see all these little dives that I never get exposed to with my 9-5 schedule.

There were a number of toppings that made this week a treat.

Tuesday, I woke up late, walked around, made some soup, did some grading, and went to Beach Boot Camp.  It was free, and relaxing but equally challenging, I did nearly throw up in the first five minutes, but once my body refamiliarized itself with the idea of doing something besides running or yoga, it eased up.  That evening, Lisa, Laura and I tucked into Lisa's couch, cozed up with some cream puffs, cava, falafel and Love Actually, and chatted, laughed, and talked the night away.

Wednesday was a fun day at work, complete with a science experiment that the kids behaved in and actually enjoyed. That afternoon, I presented my workshop again and it went fairly well.  Finally,  at night, we went over to Lisa's for a feast with the girls and too much vino tinto.  Later on, we went to Mixx, I made some new friends, a la Barcelona style, and when the clock struck 3:30 and the effects of alcohol began to put a sway in my step, I decided it's time to float back home.  I thank heavens someone was watching out for me.  And at 3:30 upon arrival, I came home to some messages from my parents letting me know that my visa was complete.

On Thursday, another lie-in, and a warm hot-chocolate with Tytti, followed by an amazing run on the beach.   Though, the beach was quite quiet, it was so relaxing, the temperature was perfect and the wind was blowing beautifully.  One of those nights where the slight of winter here is magical.

Friday rolled around, another smooth and easy day at work and a Christmas present from ASB, a ticket home for Xmas to see my family. This was followed by a relaxing behaved night in, I could feel myself nearly coming down with something and just wanted to take it easy.

Saturday, I spent the day playing volleyball with my friend Ana Elisa and some other locals.  I have to remind myself regularly when I play volleyball, especially since it's something I have been doing since I was 10, that I am no longer 16 and in my prime, playing,  I think I bruised some ribs taking a hard fall in the first few minutes of our first game.  Nevertheless, I prevailed and had a fun day.  The evening was an old reunion with a friend I knew from 2 years ago in Barcelona.  It was so nice to see Karen Church, meet her lovely husband and all her friends.  I had a feast like no other last night, that and the feisty charades will be hard to follow.

So I thank my spirits above for all the surprises that are creeping out of the shadows in my life right now, and as the movie goes, thankyoumoreplease.