Do you see what I see?

You know who's awesome?

2012-01-14T14:46:00.006-05:00

Grandpa, that's who.

This man taught me how to drive.

And to love vienna sausages.

And I cannot count how many times

he's picked me up from college,

driven me to and from the aiport,

and helped me move in.

He's the best.

Grateful

2011-12-04T19:03:00.021-05:00

For beaches and brilliant birthdays.

[and for El Salvador]

For the promise of temples.

And for temple promises.

For roommate photo shoots.

For roommates.

For friends who are smart and awesome.

For my childhood.

For never having to go through 7th grade again.

For 7th grade friends you still visit.

For the children of those grown-up friends from 7th grade.

For college friends coming home from their missions.

[isn't it awesome that this is the only picture in high definition?]

For new sisters.

For little brothers.

For grown-up puppies.

For new friends.

For children.

For traveling to new places and meeting inspiring people.

For the eventual Spring.

For my parents.

For Japanese food.

[Mostly for my Uncle Brad and Cousin Yuri who make me Japanese food]

For morose self-portraits.

It's a good life.

it's cold here.

2011-10-30T14:25:00.004-04:00

but there it is not.

[Georgetown, Guyana]

and i apologize for lapsing back into vagueness & illustrations

someday i will write about what i'm doing with my life

but not today. -K.

simple.

2011-10-23T21:33:00.005-04:00

Dead Sea.

This picture is tiny. 3x3. inches.

But I planned it out. This Dead Sea is all Fibonacci I promise.

See, lately my doodles have been shading, lines, and stress.

So this was an attempt at simplicity

In some ways my life is fairly simple at the moment.

Internship. Commute. Sleep.

Live with the padres.

I have a schedule again and for this I am in love with the world.

Alas.

Life choices loom.

wishing i hadn't left this in utah.

2011-09-01T16:20:00.003-04:00

Also, I'm taking the GRE on Saturday.

Scary.

back in america

2011-08-22T12:01:00.005-04:00

I've just about finished up Honduras, save for the head-achingly long paper I need to write by Wednesday about La Sucia and other variations of Honduran myth-tale. Honduras deserves a heart-warming experience summary and goodbye, but I'm tired and I need to write that paper so all I'll say is Honduras was/is great and I miss it a lot and I wouldn't trade my time there for time in any other part of the world. But also, I love America and am always most pleased to return to my patria.

The last few weeks have been filled with glorious days of basking in Utah (and for brief bits in Wyoming) with my glorious extended family. Having missed my elder brother's wedding, I at least got to attend his open house in which I labored diligently to hang lights and arrange flowers, and got to see my brother and new sis in all their radiant wedded-clothes glory. Also, I am kind of love in with my new sister-in-law. She's the best.

My padre and other brother were back in D.C. Oh well.

Then there was the Utah Shakespeare Festival in all its 50th anniversary glory where we saw the Glass Menagerie which I loved and Romeo & Juliet where all the men actors wore tights (distracting), and Midsummer's Night Dream which was magical except for the cheesy blinky toys the fairies used at the end.

And then off we went to Flaming Gorge which has been our family's real tradition since the beginning of time where we all camp and raft and hike and swim and I learn to cook bacon and when all the cousins hang out and it's just marvelous.

My buff little bro & the lake.

Just married and eating ice cream. So cute.

With the cousins.

The Green River.

Makin bacon.

The dam. The hike. The life.

It's a good summer.

Copan (the Ruinas)

2011-07-26T23:12:00.005-04:00

I'm not much for ruins. This is sad, since I've had the chance to see an awful lot of them. I like ruins and ancient civilizations and all that, but it's hard for me to quantify, or rather equate my ruin-going experiences with something magical, and/or awe-inspiring. Like when I see pyramid after pyramid it's hard for me to take in the moment appropriately: Oh my gosh! This pyramid represents engineering miracles and this hieroglyph is WRITTEN LANGUAGE! I don't know. Maybe there's something wrong with me.

However, Copan Ruinas was the first site of ruins I'd voluntarily gone to on my own (and had to pay my own entrance fee for). Maybe because of this, or maybe because it was situated in one of the most picturesque locations imaginable, that I really made an effort to learn and appreciate. We opted against a tour guide because they were expensive and our budget is being squeezed what with this two-week marathon tour of Honduras, and we had a lovely time meandering through Copan and eaves-dropping sporadically on other tour groups. The Archaeological Museum located on the site though had more than enough explanation regarding Copan rulers, and bat carvings, and the use of the number zero, and I complemented this knowledge with thorough reading of my guidebook, wikipedia pages, asking J. lots of questions (because she lurves and thus knows about the Mayans) and watched the video Cracking the Maya Code on YouTube. And you know what? I had a good time. And I learned. And I would go again. Ruins: Win.

This is me attempting to illustrate how I might play Mayan futbol.

I would, without a doubt, not have survived in this civilization.

We have a good time in Honduras

2011-07-25T20:27:00.013-04:00

So my last post was all thoughtful and attempts of reflection, but today I'm feeling more like posting a travelogue. You're welcome.

Today we traveled from La Ceiba to Copan Ruinas City. The total time of the trip was about nineish hours, and probably about sixish hours if we'd cut out the waiting at the bus station, etc. I don't have a lot of thoughts about La Ceiba. It was hot and sleepy and (we were told) much less crime-ridden than either Tegucigalpa or Tela. For tourists it's most often used as the transit point between mainland Honduras and the Bay Islands so it's not super touristy in of its self. The people were nice though and the stake president's family gave rave reviews about the quality of night life and out-doorsy activities. In fact, the stake president drove J. & I to the garifuna village Sambo Creek--about 15 miles west of La Ceiba--on our day off. Super nice. We got there too late to catch a boat tour of the Cayos Cochinos so we went ziplining, thermal springs soaking, and got massages instead. We were pleased. The ziplining itself was pretty incredible--18 cables, impressive vistas of the jungle and ocean (and if you squinted reaaallly hard you could see the silhouettes of the Cayos Cochinos) and I got to experience some rarely-used muscles in my abdomen and pectoral area. I now understand why our ziplining man-guides were so buff. Not that I noticed. J. & I also found and bought some pretty nifty souvenir gifts, so if you are near and dear to me, look forward to that.

Enjoying La Ceiba nightlife in our sister-missionary attire.

Hot Springs

Ziplining through the jungle.

The La Ceiba workshop was the biggest we've taught so far with a grand total of 60+ attendees, with about a total of 40 attending each of the two days of the workshop (many people only came to one class). We got to use a microphone and everything. That made me feel powerful and like a populist Latin American leader especially when I asked for crowd responses. [The Tela workshop didn't fit into my deep musings last post, so I'll have it be known that the Telenos were a joy to teach and we had about 10-15 attendees]. I think I'm getting better at Spanish public-speaking. Thank goodness. It's been a challenge to fit the 16-hour workshop into two four-hour sessions, but I have loved teaching outside Tegucigalpa. We're filling more diverse member needs and the self-employment workshop has been well-received.

Tela Workshop (#7)

La Ceiba Workshop (#8)

Anyway, we're currently in Copan Ruinas City which is beeeautiful. The Bed & Breakfast that we booked was over-booked and we got put in the super nice apartment villa as a consequence. We have a kitchen, a living room, a balcony, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. Oh the luxurious lives we lead.

We spent the afternoon horseback riding after spontaneously deciding to accept said offer from our cab driver about two minutes after getting off the bus from La Ceiba. It was a good choice. The horses were nice and Walter, our super chill tour guide, even let me hold the faux-whip on the way back so I could gallop. It was liberating and my thighs are already sore. Walter turned out to be very knowledgeable about local flora and flauna, so I took a lot of pictures and pray that I remember all the names of such abundant Honduran nature.

By the Mayan sapo statue.

Horses & Copan Ruinas Valley.

I'm pretty sure ziplining and horseback riding are two "high-risk" activities we're supposed to OK with our superiors, but I'd just like to point out that living in Tegucigalpa is a high-risk activity and they let us do that...

Tourist.

2011-07-23T22:38:00.010-04:00

We spent Tuesday afternoon through Friday morning in Tela which was beautiful and small-town-esque. And even though I later discovered it exists only because of United Fruit and subsequently the Tela Railroad Company and that our hotel Telamar was actually where American United Fruit Co. executives were housed back in the day, I still loved it. Is that bad? I mean in a way it's kind of the quintessential American/Honduran experience...

I am fascinated by the abandoned shell of the Tela Railroad Company and the gringos who came here in 1841. What was there? And then I think about all of Honduras' northern coast and what Columbus must have seen and then what happened. Did they (those 1841 gringos) imagine in that 150 years later the railroad pier--the what is now the burned and rotting muelle---would continue to be one of Tela's foremost landmarks? But I loved it, just like I loved all of Tela, and I loved the people who fished off the muelle and rode their bikes over missing boards, and the fishing men who were civil to the silly tourist gringas who asked questions and took pictures.

On Friday morning we were picked up by Hno. M (father of Hno. M) in his paila from our fancy smancy villa-hotel. We rode in the back of the truck midst the broken bicycle parts and our haphazardly loaded luggage and we were red, tan-lined, (I was make-up-less) and oh so tired. Sun ain't good for us white girls. So we stood outside our hotel shaking our heads at every single taxi that honked hopefully as it passed. And I kind of like, smiled, to have witnesses witness us load up our luggage into the oh-so-normal and oh-so-not-touristy pick-up and then ride into the sun (and bright and ultra-violet it was).

I love the crabs and sapos that come out in Tela night and the parrots people keep in their pulperias and the garifuna babies that yell "cangreos" or "sapo" or "loro" accordingly.

We bike-rode through Tela in all its heat, neatly gridded self, midst the teenage boys signing and yelling "I LOOOVE JUUU!" at the beach front at dusk. And then it was almost as good returning to the hotel eating fine fish and tajadas, drinking (virgin) pina coladas, eating the accompanying maraschino cherries and withdrawing from the humidity and dark of the real Tela.

Today (in La Ceiba, we've since moved on to more eastern, northern Honduras coast) I talked to a super tourist who was an American, a San Franciscan, who spends months upon months of many years in Honduras, who lived in Tela for three months. Who decried the tourists who come to Honduras to beach, zipline, and see the islands without meeting the people, you know? He was black, (African American?) and since at that moment we were in the garifuna village he fit right in and then he gestured to his wife-beater, basketball shorts, and said "No one knows I'm a tourist, so I see the real Honduras" and then told us about the people who get shot in Tela every single night. Those nights that we retreated to our safe, ritzy villas, abiding by the signs that warn "Do not roam the beach at night."

Sometimes, it's hard for me to reconcile my place here in Honduras. I am tourist. I am visiting humanitarian. I am United Fruit Company legacy. I am rich. I am hiding from realities. I am being cautious. I am being safe. I am riding in the back of pick-ups. I am getting room service. I am in Honduras, but not living of Honduras.

Sometimes, I am very clearly a tourist. And very clearly American. And very clearly an American in Honduras. But I still love Honduras. And is that OK?

Vaya pues Teguz.

2011-07-18T20:08:00.006-04:00

Tomorrow in the earliest of morning we are heading off to Tela.

Save for the spare bits of day and evening we will spend in Teguz before we fly back to the North, this is it. And I'm rather sad. I am incredibly fond of Tegucigalpa. All its hoodlum(s) and noise and rain and brightly colored walls. The electric cords and cables dangling and twisting from every telephone pole. The palm trees, the pines, the brown sluggish rivers, the oh so lovely climate where everything is almost always 75 degrees and breezy. The neon green of the surrounding hills, the panederias, the centro, the mimes that appear sporadically at our intersection during the mid-morning to fight for pedestrian rights (man, I love those guys). The baleadas, the tajadas, the aguacates, the quesillo, the mantequilla, the orchata, the flautas, the cebollin.

Teguz has a lot of problems. It's dangerous, it's messy, it's been smashed and forced to sprawl into and from itty bitty colonial streets: a mining town suddenly proclaimed the capital. But I love it. And I hope good things for it. And I hope good things for its people who are mostly kind and good and persevere despite it all. And there is a lot of all.

Te quiero. Que Dios te sigue bendiciendo.

Tegucigalpa, Honduras Temple

fat & flexible

2011-07-16T22:18:00.002-04:00

I miss brownies and chocolate chip cookies so much. SO MUCH. I blame my European ancestors.

Speaking of, J. & I may have enjoyed Honduran food a little too much. We're trying to do some damage control these last two weeks which J. tells me is very missionary-esque, except we only have two weeks instead of two transfers to lose our "mission weight." Wish us luck! Also, what's kind of wonderful about Honduras is that not only do I know that I've gained weight, but everyone is more than willing to confirm that fact. Just this Thursday I was told that my weight gain is especially notable in my face. Good times :) Today J. & I attended an enrichment activity which was, on all things, nutrition! After the nutrition workshop we made our way upstairs for the collective Relief Society birthday party where we ironically celebrated with mayonnaise sandwiches, cake, & soda. The highlight, however, was watching (and then participating) the good sisters ferociously beat the Minnie Mouse Head pinata to the point where the watching children began to cry. I, for one, feel much more relaxed and at one with the world.

A good thing though, is that the yoga-challenge is coming along swimmingly. Although I've not been the most consistent at yoga-ing every single day, I've become much more flexible and can now do impressive things like touching my toes for extended periods of time. MY HAMSTRINGS FEEL SO ALIVE!!

I'm off to eat cheese in a downward facing dog position.

I don't like liver.

2011-07-12T22:46:00.006-04:00

J. & I's travel plans are finally finalized and we will be teaching three workshops in our remaining three weeks, but NOT in Tegucigalpa. So exciting. But sad. We like Tegucigalpa. Speaking of workshops (which after all is why we are here) I present to you the pictures from our last two graduations (6 & 5).

Since our last few weeks will be filled with an abundance of travel so J. & I are making a big push to finish as much homework as possible in the next seven days. It's gross, but necessary.

On Sunday (see pictures in previous post), J. & I spent the day with Familia M. where Hno. M taught us to make tejadas estilo Tela which was basically fried green bananas topped with cabbage and meat. The most traditional meat topping consists of chicken innards (menudo) and I thought I could handle it, but after trying the liver I actually really, really couldn't. So. It was hamburger meat for me.

That day was kind of beautiful.

2011-07-11T20:31:00.011-04:00

My Thoughts & More!

2011-07-09T14:21:00.009-04:00

Just thinking & More! in El Salvador.

I love/hate stores that are called _______ & More. This, I feel, is just a lazy way of avoiding coming up with a good name or alternatively is actually a less-than-clever way at avoiding revealing how little more there actually is. Trinkets & More! What more?! Goodness. So this blog title is a shout-out to all the Honduran stores called Tropical Breeze & More! or Suministros y Mas! (really, could you be any more vague?!) because I too feel too lazy and not clever enough to try to tie any of the subsequent blog-posting into some cogent/thesis-driven format. So here you have it: My Thoughts & More!

Living with a pseudo-companion makes one more aware of one's self and one's flaws. I always thought I was a mild-mannered girl with my head on straight,but after witnessing over two months of J.'s down-to-earthness I realize I am a tad more hysterical and hormonal than I'd previously thought. So sorry y'all, but mostly to J.

Honduras has brought out some newly realized fears in both of us. J. hates and fears the giant ants that live in our apartment and will squeal loudly along the lines of "Ew! EW! EWWW!" when she discovers them in our sink or in the brigadeiro remains. Luckily her fear has instilled within her aggression rather than passive terror and she has become a very effective ant-killer when her flip-flops are in hand. My hands, on the other hand, are too busy protecting my face from the horror which is barbed wire. Being somewhat tall in Honduras (especially when in wedges) I have sometimes found my face terribly close to the protective barbed wire that lines the tops of all walls. When walking along the Tegucigalpa roads I will sometimes spring off the sidewalk into the road or suddenly crouch and cower when I encounter razor-tipped barbed wire that I am sure is trying to cut my face off. It's all pretty intense. But we're tough. Which is why they sent us here.

This week has been good(ish). I'm supposed to watch local TV for one of my cultural activities which unfortunately degraded into more than a little time-wasting when I discovered just how many movies (and some real jewels, too!) are shown on Honduran TV ALL THE TIME. I think we may have cable. Anyway, the point being is that I'm glad our TV had been left off for the first two months of our stay and that we'll be traveling to the North for the majority of our remaining three weeks (three weeks?!) in Honduras. Stupid cultural activity: You've made me watch like eight American movies. No worries though. In these next two weeks we'll be teaching THREE workshops outside Tegucigalpa in awesome places like, oh, Santa Rosa de Copan. So that's like pretty cool.

Because of us.

2011-07-08T19:39:00.003-04:00

Because of us (J. & I, who else?) the Palmira Ward has learned to sing For the Beauty of the Earth (Por la Belleza Terrenal).

Because of us and our habits of leaving food--albeit sometimes just crumbs--out and about on our counter, our rented apartment is now infested with giant ants.

Because of us the Wendy's on Avenida la Paz gets healthy amounts of lunch-time business. We do not get healthy anything.

Because of us, Hno. M watches The Onion.

Because of us (actually just me) Hondurans are learning about Iceland.

It's good to make a difference.

And may there be continued peaceful relations between our two countries

2011-07-05T16:25:00.012-04:00

Seasons greetings from J. & K!

Yesterday was the 4th of July. Hip hip! J. & I could not and did not resist the opportunity to invite over the CRE specialist (he served his mission Texas) and his family for a night filled with American fun. We were both quite impressed with ourselves considering that our holiday spirit for 4th of July pasts has been minimal, but I guess this holiday suddenly seemed much cooler since we were in Honduras. Anyway, J. & I hopped on the bandwagon by wearing subtle, yet unmistakable, homages to our patria during our workshop teaching (red dress, blue cardigan, white shoes, etc), eating at Wendy's (which was not unusual, but nothing says America like fries and Frosty), and then holding an American cena complete with homemade root-beer, corn on the cob, sloppy joes, jello, chips & dip, & lemonade. Also, most excitingly, after many, many attempts I succeeded at making brigadeiro (Thanks Caro!)!! Although brigadeiro is Brasilian, I say but hey, all of us who share this lovely Western Hemisphere are American right? And that's what 4th of July is all about.

In-action brigadeiro shot.

Although we failed at getting our hands on some super-legal* fireworks (they're out of season) we still held what can only be described as a raucous fiesta. Faces were painted with the Honduran & American flags, we listened to God Bless the USA numerous times, and then danced punta. Is there a better way to celebrate Independence? I think not.

Many thanks to Hno & Hna M. who were wonderful company and let me play with their children. It was a good day.

C. is my Honduran twin.

Please note that the American flag is being held up by little Mayan men from Copan.

I still have more to post on El Salvador so stay tuned! If you find you must have an update sooner feel free to check out J.'s blog. Till then.

*yeah, no.

Sometimes, when you get older, you go to El Salvador. Is for fun.

2011-07-05T11:41:00.003-04:00

Today I will attempt to catch up from a week (yes, a whole week!) of no blog posts. My mother will be relieved I'm sure :)

In what was truly an epic three-day adventure, J. & I embarked via TACA Bus from Tegucigalpa to El Salvador last Thursday through Saturday. This trip, though small in kilometers and in hours, was a rather fabulous vacation which involved temple open houses, the beach, birthday!, Mayan ruins, volcano, pupusas, and the oh-my-incredible familia T.

My good friend Y. goes to BYU and he graciously lent us his family during our short tenure in San Salvador. And oh goodness, did la familia T. treat us like queens. They picked us up from the bus station, shuttled us everywhere from San Andres to the VIP temple open house, helped arrange for transportation to he beach, and when Hna. & Hno. T picked us up yesterday to drive us once again to the bus station they saw us off not only with many warm words and hugs but with souvenirs, Salvadoran chucheria, and (the best!) homemade pupusas. There is no way that any amount of blog-posts filled with complementary adjectives can adequately describe how well we were treated. If this vacation was a success it was solely due to Familia T. They are amazing, good, and smart people who were an absolute delight to get to know. I now love El Salvador because of them. So, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you.

I'm a sucker for fresh bread and fresh cheese.

2011-06-28T22:18:00.003-04:00

On Saturday, Hno. V (+the family) took J. & I to the Universidad Zamorano--an agricultural school renowned throughout the Americas for its awesomeness. I'm also a sucker for anything "home-grown" and bought a multitude of jams, honey, sausage, dried/sugared yams, chocolate milk, and cheese that were made from Zamorano's own cows, pigs, bees, mangoes, guayabas, and oranges. I wish I could describe to you the succulence which is Honduran cheese on Honduran bread, or Honduran honey on Honduran pancakes or how eating Spanish sausage with cheese with chili in the morning accompanied by chocolate milk makes one just feel ALIVE.

I don't know why Honduras is bringing out such food obsession. I can't even imagine what kind of monster I'd become were I to travel to France, Spain, or heaven forbid, Italy.

Mexican Art! (Honduran Identity)

2011-06-24T18:39:00.009-04:00

Today J. & I went to the Museo de la Identidad Nacional (Museum of the National [Honduran] Identity) located in the Tegucigalpa Centro. We'd tried to go previously, but arrived too late to see the virtual-Copan-3D-movie-you-just-can't-miss! So we came back. And the 3D Copan thing was pleasant, so I'm glad we did.

The purpose of the Museo is to preserve/reinforce/perpetuate/glorify the Honduran identity. Thus it is both unfortunate and ironic that my favorite thing about the museum was its temporary display of Mexican Contemporary Art. Oops. The permanent exhibit was well-maintained and very informative, but consisted entirely of panels upon panels of writing with very little museum-display material. I'd rather have read it all in a book. Before I launch into rhapsodies on the gloriousness of lithography here are some jewels from my lackadaisical scan of said museum panels.

1. There are 18 Honduran states. Back in the 1800s the state "Gracias a Dios" used to be located in the west, rather than east Honduras. I'm still not quite sure how that happened. I imagine it was kind of like renaming New York California.

2. Democracy was consolidated (The panels only went up to 2005).

3. Copan used to be painted red! (I actually learned this from the virtual-movie-tour)

4. It is the best to be Honduran.

Now, feast your eyes upon these works of art. The exhibit was strictly contemporary and focused on works created between 1972 and 2004. Some of my favorite artists exhibited were Jose Luis Cuevas, Francisco Toledo, Maximinio Javier, Francisco Zuniga, and Remigio de Hayos. I was particularly smitten with this image Dolores sentada painted by Zuniga.

Isn't this beautiful and aren't her arms fabulous? This painting inspires me to paint arms always. As does this painting (also by Zuniga).

Francisco Toledo was also rather wonderful, his use of complementary colors and weird shapes absolutely exquisite. My favorite painting of his at the exhibit--Reflejo de caballos--is unfindable through my cursory google image searches, so here's a picture of Sr. Toledo instead.

Doesn't he look cute and quirky?

Finally, this painting by Remigio Valdes de Hoyos was another favorite. As J. so aptly put it, it's kind of like a whole chick flick in painting form. It's called Contemplando el beso. Sigh.

I may make baleadas, but I still refrigerate my cheese

2011-06-23T21:14:00.010-04:00

It's official. We're going to El Salvador. We even went and bought our bus tickets from a travel agency, an action so inordinately quaint it reminded me of olden times, or more accurately, reminded me of the The Truman Show when Jim Carey tries to book tickets to Tahiti or wherever which I am pretty sure was my only exposure to travel agencies prior to Tuesday's trip to Alhambra Travel.

Yesterday we graduated Taller #4 which was both fabulous and exhausting due to my lackluster attempts at fighting my head-cold solely with lemonade and some tricky teacher-student moments. But we ultimately emerged triumphant (I woke up this morning feeling much better--thanks magical Honduran limones!) and we enjoyed a wonderful refrigerio post-graduation complete with golosinas, tamales, torta, tajaditas, and of course limonada.

On a sad note, Honduras lost to Mexico in the Copa Oro yesterday. But at least they held their own until overtime which was proud. And I am in love with the announcers and was reminded once again why I preferred watching the Copa Mundial 2010 games on the Spanish channel. The catracho announcers I enjoyed yesterday were hilariously self-deprecating and crass and I turned off the tele feeling sad, but also a whole lot of love for the entire catracho team. As announced so so eloquently, Honduras may not have potable water or international aid, but they still kept those Mexicans at bay for 90 minutes. Orale gueyes.

Also, I made lengua for noche de hogar which was an esfuerzo I am truly proud of. And I made baleadas for Sunday lunch which made me feel all Honduran and fuzzy inside.

Mmmm. Cow lengua.

J. wouldn't even take a picture of this with her camera.

J. did eat the lengua in its cooked form though. You go girl!

But look how legit this dinner is. You'd eat it too.

Next Sunday I will make sopa de mondongo.

Que catracha que soy.

I'm learning a lot of things from my cooking exploits namely that it's realllly hard to skin tongue with a dull knife and that mantequilla (Honduran sour cream) should be added to most everything. I'm also learning that only Americans refrigerate things, like oh say milk, cheese, eggs, fruits, and vegetables, and even though I'm trying to be more Honduran about everything I as of yet have not been able to tolerate my quesillo just chilling on the counter. I'm working on it.

Some days I look more like a sister missionary than others

2011-06-20T19:53:00.007-04:00

Today was one of those days.

J. is double nice to let me pretend to be a missionary and then to take pictures documenting me doing so.

Lots o'love

Hna. S.

pelada como una naranja

2011-06-18T20:08:00.012-04:00

The latter half of the week was filled with activities like the Museo de Identidad Nacional, Santa Lucia, Parque La Leona, Valle de Angeles, Institute!, & Honduran hair salons.

The CRE specialist, Hno. M, let us hang with his family Wednesday night. They have two adorable little girls--18 months and three years--and we headed up to St. Lucia where for the first time in Honduras I felt less than warm. So strange. Winters in Honduras are tough especially now that we're currently enduring a cold front of 70 degrees. Brrrrr. The most delightful part of the evening, however, was when the three-year-old with astonishing levity and apt use of metaphor looked at J. & I and said "Son peladas como naranjas [They're peeled oranges]" referring to the inner-part of orange peels that are just about as white as we are. Really, from the mouths of babes.

Parque La Leona

Familia M. So cute.

We spent Thursday enjoying Valle de Angeles--a touristy village a couple of miles north of Teguz, with C. & P.--who were good company as always. Valle de Angeles is beautiful and full of lots of Americans and cows.

Just standing by a muralla in Valle de Angles.

Another awesome wall of Valle de Angeles.

I am a cow whisperer. Obviously.

Additionally, we've become quite the regulars at Institute activities which makes us, um, really cool? Yeah, let's go with that. Anyway, just about everyone goes to Institute dances whether they are married, elderly, or just out of high school (in some cases still in high school) so basically if you're Mormon you're there. We run into a lot of fellow-Institute-activity-goers when we and they are out and about and I've gotten a lot of comments on my dancing. I still haven't figured out whether they are complementing or mocking me, but suffice it to say I am making myself highly visible. Hm.

Workshop teaching continues to be fabulous and rewarding. J. & I sometimes get a bit tired of the phone-call advertising, but we are well on our way to becoming Latina telemarketers. Regardless, promotion needs to be done I just wish email was used just a little bit more here. But that's the lazy Kelsey speaking. Also, as I was going through the list calling ASEMSUD members to invite to the workshop I ended up inviting our gerente's wife without realizing it. So Hna. V showed up at the workshop today much to our surprise and my embarrassment at not realizing I'd called her. I mean I've only met the woman five or six times. Luckily, Hna. V was gracious as always and gave a lot of great input during the workshop, so ultimately this mistake=win.

Oh! And today I got a haircut and it was so cheap and so much better than my usual visit to Great Clips. I am just pleased as punch.

Tres leches for the umpteenth time. Yum.

Das Leben ist gut

2011-06-14T23:17:00.004-04:00

A lot of weird things happened to me today.

Today, I tried to buy skim milk from a coffee shop and they decided it would be a good idea to boil it for me first and give it to me all nice and so steaming hot that I couldn't even drink it, never mind the humid 80+ degree weather. Whyyyyyy?

When we were walking home from the grocery store (our backpacks stuffed to bursting) I was eating my Hershey's candy bar when I walked past a homeless man who started berating me for not giving him something to eat. So I just looked at him and handed over the rest of my chocolate bar just like that, not even pausing in my walk, and he just laughed and laughed, and sometimes I guess I do things like that.

While practicing piano at the capilla for my grand debut at July's Super Sabado, I taught impromptu piano lessons and then got asked if I exercised, got my abs felt up, and I guess they were tolerable enough because I was asked and then somehow ended up agreeing to teach yoga classes next Tuesday. Oh em gee.

Oh, and one of the hermanos from our ward invited us to his choir practice after I expressed interest in Honduran composers and lo and behold J. & I end up in the choir singing Carmina Burana in Latin and German and heavens, they found out I play piano, and I have an audition this week to see if I'm good enough to play for their concert {pees pants} and they are legit so I probably won't make it and needn't worry, but hey, I was instructed in Spanish how to sing in German today and basically life is both fabulous and terrifying, and additionally hilarious and I bought a fish with all its scales today that I am going to behead and skin, and heck I'm just developing new talents all-freaking-over the place.

Also, I've now officially ridden a motorcycle in Honduras. YES!

I like to please my mother

2011-06-13T20:40:00.007-04:00

My mother told me my last couple of blog posts have been weird. Sorry about that Mom. Here's hoping this one is a little less weird and more appropriately newsy and normal.

We graduated our third class last Thursday. Here we are!

We started out with 14 and got 9 graduates which has been fairly consistent with our past workshop statistics. They were really a great (and rowdy) group and my Spanish-speaking abilities were definitely challenged in new and exciting ways as I was forced to discuss things like the spirthoodom of entrepreneurship and justifying the break-even point of budgeting. Fun.

One particular experience I cherish and which may have left me a bit teary-eyed was during the final presentations of the business plans when Hna. M (who makes the most fabulous donuts) presented her repostreria prospects with fabulous confidence and finesse. During the first class of our workshop we ask all our participants to write down three accomplishments they are proud of and then identify abilities that allowed them to, or that they learned by accomplishing said accomplishment. We then use these abilities/achievements to write Power Statements that they can use for their Management Summaries i.e. I am creative. When working as an office assistant I re-designed the scholarship ad-campaign creating 25% increase in scholarship meeting attendance. This has proven to be a difficult activity in that a lot of our participants don't feel that they have sufficient accomplishments to create a meaningful Power Statement although they do. I used Hna. M as an example during our first class a couple of weeks ago, trying to show how her accomplishment (sending/financing her daughter's way through college) was a very significant achievement which showed Hna. M's perseverance, determination, and resourcefulness all which will help her immensely as she establishes her own business. So, during her final presentation Hna. M referenced my example saying something along the lines of how she now knows she has abilities necessary to succeed. And she will. And I love that I get to teach such incredible people.

On Saturday, J. & I gave blood at the blood drive sponsored by our very own Iglesia SUD. On Friday we were eating lunch at a Chinese restaurante with Hnos V & M and the almost-return-missionaries taking the Career Workshop and Hno. V came on the news promoting the Tegucigalpa-wide blood drive. I was deeply impressed with Hno. V's cameo appearance and have now started referring to him as el famoso which he has chuckled at a couple of times but I should probably drop before his patience wears thin. Anyway, Hno (and Hna!) V. took us to two different chapels where we filmed the intricate workings of blood drives a la SUD, chatted up some very enthusiastic senior-missionary couples who'd gotten to Tegucigalpa the day before, and where my blood was first refused in the Kennedy chapel and accepted in the other. I was pretty excited to give blood for the FIRST TIME EVER and I didn't even faint or nothing. It was awesome and I felt warm and full of service. Plus I got a free lunch box that says Honduran Red Cross on it. Ah ha!

I get really excited when people want my blood.

Hno. V himself.

I got to eat crackers so I wouldn't desmayar.

On Sunday J. and I performed our acapella musical number to rave reviews, or rather to a non-horrified, yet non-plussed congregation. Eh.

Today, we started teaching our fourth taller consisting of 24 lovely participants. This was an exciting and rather large-number of participants for us and we are pleased because we worked our butts off last week doing all sorts of promotion (calling all the bishops and stake-presidents in the greater Tegucigalpa area, making flyers, pestering people to hand out our flyers, etc) and it's always fun to get results. They are a good group and I'm excited to see their progress these next two weeks. Also, teaching is fun. And super challenging, and is forever keeping me on my toes.

I hope this was normal enough for you Mom.

Lots o'love

--K.

danger is my second last name

2011-06-11T16:52:00.007-04:00

You know how sometimes when you drive* in Tegucigalpa in certain areas dangerous, or a teenager who appears particularly delinquent walks across the street, or when newspaper-vender person presses his face against your window you automatically lock your car doors?

So I can't help but wonder if I'm the kind of girl that inspires such car-locking instead of always being the car-locker. Would you lock your car doors if you saw me approaching?

Now imagine that I'm wearing fake hipster glasses and wielding my Cabela's pocket-knife. Yeah, that's right. Lock them doors.

* I'm not allowed to drive in Tegucigalpa. So you musn't be scared for me or innocent pedestrians in that sense at least. Rest assured this question is posed strictly from the back seat.

latina alter-ego

2011-06-09T17:56:00.006-04:00

I think I have a latina alter-ego that is based primarily on the fact that I'm a gringa.

You see, when I was growing up in Peru and couldn't speak Spanish I capitalized on the fact that people thought I was a stupid, awkward gringa. In order to get people to talk to me I would exaggerate my naivete, my accent, my lack of knowledge about all things not-American with a sort of "Yeah, I know I'm ridiculous so pleeeaaaasseeee talk to me." This is how I got through girls camp, all class-trips through 12th grade, and also when I needed to order things at restaurants and waiters were ignoring me.

Fast forward many years: here I am in Honduras. I speak Spanish much better--now with a passable accent--and I comport myself with some sense of credibility in the sense that I jaywalk like a fiend and walk fast and leap gracefully (sometimes) over open pot-holes in wedges. However, a million times a day I am also a ridiculous gringa and I have acknowledged this fact by transforming into an uber-friendly, super-out-going-smiley-punta-dancing-in-the-office American so that people will love me for my foreign-stupid ways instead of hating me. This is interesting, especially that in my homeland I've been told countless times by friends that "Wow, when I first met you seemed really stuck-up and angry and I didn't even want to talk to you, but now that I get to know you, I guess you're kind of nice." Awesome.

So apparently I shed my chilly American demeanor in favor of loud obnoxious positivity when in the warmer nether-lands of my childhood. This is evidenced by Hno. M's wife who said, quote: "Wow, Kelsey is happy about everything always." This pleases me. I like my latina-alter-ego. Now if only I could have the all the benefits of latinahooddom, like tanness and mad dance skillz and native-Spanish speaking abilities and hips that don't lie.

look how happy Honduras makes me.

Awww.

Es que tengo amigos que piensan deep.

2011-06-07T22:19:00.005-04:00

Guess who just landed the alto part in Sunday's musical number?! Yup, it's true. I've always kind of dreamed of performing a singing number in church, and it appears that my number is indeed up. Since I've been asked numerous times throughout my life to "keep it down," or "play piano instead or something," this is a special and unusual time for me. Whatever, I'm excited.

In other news I am not a fan of my IAS380R class which demands that I go out and have cultural experiences which is all fine and dandy, but then have to write pages upon pages about my feelings about said cultural experiences. I'm all for reflection and deep thoughts, but whyyyyyyyy? I ought to be out having more cultural experiences instead of making up deep thoughts about why they were so cultural. Blech and blech.

Also, the food here continues to be most, most wonderful in that yesterday our gerente took us out for crepes--crepe catracho & crepe belga--and I was full for hours. Plus we buy our food at different little stores which makes me feel European, or rather not-American, and I get a real kick out of buying bread from the bread store and cheese from the cheese store, and pineapple from the pineapple man. Now I just need to find a butcher and chocolate man and I'll be set for life and may never, ever leave Honduras.

Finally, even though I am enjoying Honduras, I find myself plagued by thoughts of my return in terms of will I go to graduate school?! If so, then where? And then I want to apply for a myriad of other things like a Fulbright ETA, and Teach for America, and real-life big-people jobs and it just gets a tad overwhelming. But I was talking to my friend Seth (who is totally winning the P-90x/yoga challenge by the way as evidenced by the fact that he could do my super-cool yoga move that took me many moons to learn) who wisely told me to stop worrying because I wasn't enjoying the now. Which is true. Happen what happens I am in Honduras now, so I need esforzarme to be in Honduras. So I'm going to try harder and worry less.

Namaste.

I love the smell of Nesquik in the morning

2011-06-04T19:44:00.012-04:00

Oh my Nesquik. Pre-sweetened cocoa is the way to go because each Nesquik blob in my morning milk is a delicious chocolaty surprise that I've literally begun to dream about. J'adore.

Yesterday J. & I bought fruits and verduras on the street like real people, went to Institute (hollaaa!) and then out dancing. And when I say out dancing I mean the dance held at our local capilla. We may not be missionaries, but we're not bad-a in any way, shape, or form. I love dancing, and I especially love Honduras for not being uptight about dancing in that my dance skills are actually on par to most everyone else's. It's all punta, with some merengue, and I begged the DJ for just una bachata and he played four. Entonces, pero gracias Mister DJ ;) It was a crazy night in that J. and I stayed out until midnight--oh em goodness--and that my hip injury sustained from over-enthusiastic yoga was exacerbated considerably during the numerous Daddy Yankee songs. Also, we may have walked home late enough to verify that transvestites do indeed frequent our neighborhood (see previous post). Also, getting cat-called at by transvestites is disconcerting on various levels.

In other news, today we graduated our second class--just an itty bitty group of five--but they were delightful and fabulous and we are sad to see them go. Hno. R gifted J. & I these magnificent Mayan stone men from Copan and Hna. N came over after graduation to teach us how to make Pollo alonguia which was super delicious. I love Hna. N because she deals with our ridiculous Spanish so graciously and tells us story after story about her childhood and Honduran folktales (by my request of course). She is also going to teach me how to make tres leches which is my most favorite thing to eat. My other favorite thing is folklore and how gratified people are to be asked to talk about things they know well. I learn a billion in the process and get to make a lot of friends. So gracias folklore.

Also J. is the best casi-companion ever and the church is true and I am happy a million times a day that I am on this internship and in Honduras.

N. is wearing fake hipster glasses and a sweater vest.

J. & I are wearing matching shirts.

Double win.

P. is my favorite.

Taller #2 graduates

Hna. N not only teaches me how to cook, but she made me the apron I'm wearing.

I LOVE HER.

Eating tres leches in the repostreria.

Also my friend Claire got married today and she and her husband will be the happiest because they are both so rad. And that deserves a hip, hip, hurrah :)

Aqui feliz

2011-06-01T20:47:00.005-04:00

I continue to love it here. And don't worry, I'm trying to think of more verbs to describe how I feel about Honduras.

Being here is nice, but surreal. In a really good way. Today we drove through a street so, so tiny and along the side of the road these little kids were walking carrying paper in fan halves on their heads and they were so cute and were so smiley and then we walked through the center at dusk which was, um, a new experience and it's been fabulously cool these past two days so the breeze is all blowy and delicious and we ate at Pizza Hut today so we could visit P.'s novio, and apparently Pizza Hut here is pero, asi elegante and we paid a ridiculous sum (a normal price norte-americano) for the cheese-filled crust "Hot Cheese" pronounced hote cheez and drank re-fillable limonada a la natural and I feel full but also in shape since we raced home from the centro to get here before it got really dark.

We've found and frequently frequented a delicious panederia, also courtesy of P. (oh what would we do without her) who's taught us so many things like how to find the colectivo taxis and ride buses and where to buy the fresh vegetables and um, how apparently all the transvestites of Tegucigalpa hang out literally a block away from our apartment but realllllly late at night which explains why we've never seen them. Anywho, the panederia in the centro is fantastic and we've found this type of bread called viejita which means literally old lady, but is this sweet bread sort of thing that I would have taken a picture of and then posted on this blog, but we eat it too fast to ever get around to the whole picture taking thing. Also, I found the most pero beeutifull loafers at the BRASILIAN SHOES store that I absolutely adore, but I hadn't brought my monies :( And have I mentioned how marvelously close our apartment is to the centro? Well it is CLOSE and there are a million + one librerias and yesterday I talked with the Libreria Navarro lady about La Sucia, which by the way is my folklore project in a nutshell and I spent a good hour in the Biblioteca Nacional reading up on folklore and making tentative plans with J. to visit Tela (oh be still my heart) and maybe, but really just an itty bitty maybe, visiting the Bay Islands. I won't say which island in case I jinx it but it starts with an R and ends in oatan.

Oh and also yesterday when we were in the centro we decided, oh hey, let's read our books in la catedral and guess what, we were lo and behold taken by surprise by the 12:00p misa and it was so beautiful to have, well observe misa in a gold-leafed cathedral with the virgin so prominent and centered and I drew a picture because it was so beautiful, which I'm not sure is OK during misa, so I'm sorry about that a little. And then right outside la catedral are all the evangelicals trying so earnestly to save all our souls via loudspeaker and Christian rock and nice teenagers and we even saw the good ol' Mormon elders on our way down and it was just a great big clashing of faiths in a friendly, busy, very loud sort of way.

We started our third workshop on Monday and the cutest elderly lady attended who gave me four hugs and who when I called her today to ask how things were going was working on her homework. Heart melts. And then there's Hna. N who is going to come over Saturday to help us make some sort of chicken thing and who made me an apron especially in yellow. Finally, I'm going to buy and cook lengua this Sunday (digo buy on Saturday, cook on Sunday) partly to gross J. out because she's so freaked out by eating tongue and the fact that dead tongue turns blue, but partly because I think it will be super legit if I can cook cow tongue. Right?

Ay Teguz, it's gonna break my heart to leave you.

Will all the Ephraimites please stand up

2011-05-29T22:53:00.006-04:00

Today I became the official piano player for the Tegucigalpa Stake Youth Choir. Poor Tegucigalpa youth. Just jokes. I'm going to practice so hard, just you wait and see.

After finishing my official duties and while waiting for my ride home I happened upon the Tegucigalpa Non-Youth Choir. There I was sitting in the chapel quietly reading my folklore book, listening to the dulcet tones of burgeoning four-part harmony, when I was suddenly accosted by the friendly, yet vehemently earnest stake choir piano player who looked me right in the eye and said "You're of the tribe of Ephraim." Baffled, I acknowledged this and was instructed, in so many words, that it was thus my duty to get off my fat butt and "Go help the tenors, for heavens sake" because you see the tribe of Ephraim, they know about music.

So today, I was also the unofficial piano player for the Tegucigalpa Stake tenors who may, or may not have, appreciated the sweaty semi-musically-inept Ephraimite in their midst.

Oh yeah. And I love it here.

the special moments of our vida cotidiana

2011-05-26T18:49:00.008-04:00

So I'm not a sister missionary: Today J. & I spent ample time at the CRE (Centro de Recursos de Empleo) doing follow-up calls, prepping workshop material, etc. While there we helped one of the Employment Center volunteers type up his application for a job he's applying for. We'd never met this volunteer before (there are a lot of people at the CRE daily so sometimes I can't tell who are the volunteers and who's just there to print out their resume), but it was good we finally met him because he legit thought we were sister missionaries and was super scandalized that we'd gone to the Institute dance last weekend. Glad we cleared that up. However, he remained super scandalized that I hadn't served a mission and told me to get on that in no uncertain terms. Further, he said he knew I should serve a mission because I had a big heart as evidenced by the fact that I shared my Frosty with him. J. says I don't need to go on a mission to have a big heart, but she only says that because she has a big heart because she has gone on a mission. Ha.

Don't ride the big yellow buses: In Honduras there are giant yellow school buses everywhere. They don't take people to school, but they do take people everywhere else. Yesterday when we were walking home we were passed by a particularly sordid example of yellow bus emitting horrendous shrieks as it made its way up the hill. J. commented "Wow, there's something wrong with that bus." I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with all these buses which is why they were sent to Honduras in the first place.

The most special catcall: Catcalls are pretty much a given if you are female and live in Honduras. This Tuesday J. & I were walking home with a friend (yup we have friends, be jealous) and we walked by this one man who said: "Ay, wow, que guapas las tres" and then proceeded to loudly howl wolf-style at us. So ridiculous. The clincher is when we had to walk by him again about a half-hour later (we'd gone home to change out of our sister missionary attire) and he was super excited to see us and said "Ay guapas, you've changed from your skirts to your pants, but don't worry you look even hotter now." And I couldn't help it--I busted up laughing.

Brigadeiro a la failure: It is one of my fondest dreams to make brigadeiro, but unfortunately I have yet to succeed. In a burst of confidence I attempted to make brigadeiro and take it to the graduation on Wednesday, but unfortunately even after hours in the freezer my brigadeiro mixture maintained the consistency of ooblek, in that it couldn't quite decide whether it was solid or liquid. Sad day. But I will prevail. Maybe.

Sociedad de Socorro: Hey guess what?! J. and I are giving the Relief Society Lesson this Sunday. I have never in so little time, been so involved in my ward. It feels good. And weird. But I love our Relief Society and I think they like us. And here's a picture of us all at the temple site a couple of Sundays ago. Front and center is Hna. S who cleans the CRE every day. She also took J. & I to an awesome cheese shop last Monday so we could experience true Honduran quesillo. Quite simply put, she is the most fabulous.

Graduation!

2011-05-25T20:01:00.006-04:00

We graduated our first class today. So proud.

Here is the photo my camera managed to snap of us all.

I present it to you in all its grainy goodness.

They were all so, so good to us and I love them.

These following "in-action" shots capture a little, but not all of their splendidness.

I really like teaching. And I like church. And I like people.

Que bueno, no?

it's funny

2011-05-22T15:39:00.004-04:00

A lot of hilarious things have happened this week. This internship has been very good for my pride, of which I have none left.

This week J. & I taught 12+ hours of self-employment goodness, attended an 8+ hour workshop on autosuficiencia laboral which I don't know how to say in English but has to do with making goals and becoming gainfully employed (rather than self-employed) and then you know, doing other stuff.

On Wednesday we met with our bishop who informed us that we would be in charge of music for the entirety of our Honduran duration (J. directs the music, I play piano) including teaching the entire ward for 10 minutes after (each) sacrament meeting how to sing. Whaaaa? Oh, and we would also be giving 15-minute talks that Sunday on a topic of our choice. When I informed my father of my piano-calling-assignment, he asked if I'd brought along my copy of Easy Hymns to Honduras. Just so everyone is clear, I have never owned a copy of Easy Hymns and while my sight-reading skills may warrant otherwise, I always play from the big-people hymn book. Kudos, however, belong to my father whose pithy truths have once again annihilated any semblance of ego.

This morning, J. & I woke up early so we could be at the chapel by 7:30a. I had to play prelude music, and oh yeah, we'd previously volunteered to bring the sacrament bread. Sacrament meeting didn't end up starting until 8:25a because the teachers/priests didn't show up until 8:15ish to actually prepare the bread. Classic. Also, there was a lot of confusion involving the transition of music directors and I got ousted for the opening hymn, but then reinstated for the prelude music since the opening hymn player was ready at 8:00 and we didn't actually start until 8:15. Good times. My talk actually went OK, in that I think most people understood my words, or were at least nice enough to pretend. The clincher came when I finished my talk and was heading over to the piano to play the rest hymn and J. notified me that there had been a change in schedule and we were to play hymn #163 instead of #72. Unfortunately for everyone, I misunderstood J. and began to play #162. I not only began to play #162, but kept playing #162 for its entire duration (all two pages, and four verses) much to the confusion of J., the bishopric, and the entire congregation. I would, however, like to say that I played that baby well.

So that was sacrament meeting. And it was awesome, because there were so many things to be worried about and so many things I did wrong, I didn't even have time to dwell on it. Instead I sailed through it all in a state of never-before-experienced serenity. I guess when you come to terms with the fact that you're in Honduras and have no clue what you're doing, you get to let go of a lot of things, like dignity and self-consciousness.

gracias señor borges

2011-05-21T22:27:00.003-04:00

I'm preparing a talk for church tomorrow. I'm really missing readily accessible printers at the moment. Like, really.

Anyway, I'm using one of Jorge Luis Borges' poems as the antithesis to my talk, and I feel bad because Borges actually wrote a lot of great, uplifting poems--i.e. his poem about Iceland entitled Iceland,that begins with the lines Iceland of the seas/how lucky all men are that you exist--rather than the super pessimistic/despairingly agnostic poem I'm quoting tomorrow. So, to compensate here is Borges' poem The Just.

The Just

A man who cultivates his garden, as Voltaire wished.

He who is grateful for the existence of music.

He who takes pleasure in tracing an etymology.

Two workmen playing, in a cafe in the South, a silent game of chess.

The potter, contemplating a color and a form.

The typographer who sets this page well, thought it may not please him.

A woman and a man, who read the last tercets of a certain canto.

He who strokes a sleeping animal.

He who justifies, or wishes to, a wrong done him.

He who is grateful for the existence of Stevenson.

He who prefers others to be right.

These people, unaware, are saving the world.

Los justos

Un hombre que cultiva su jardin, como queria Voltaire.

El que agradece que en la tierra haya musica.

El que descurbre con placer una etimologia.

Dos empleados que en un cage del Sur jegan un silencioso ajedrez.

El ceramista que premedita un color y una forma.

El tipografo que compone bien esta pagina, que tal vez no le agrada.

Una mujer y un hombre que leen los tercetos finales de cierto canto.

El que acaricia a un animal dormido.

El que justifica o quiere justificar un mal que le han hecho.

El que agradece que en la tierra haya Stevenson.

El que prefiere que los otros tengan razon.

Esas personas, que se ignoran, estan salvando el mundo.

Also, Honduras is pretty.

mango, we meet again

2011-05-18T21:36:00.009-04:00

When I was four-years-old I moved to Georgetown, Guyana.

I had myself a good time there. We had a rubber tree in the front yard, an acacia tree in the back, a mango tree in the side yard, and thus my older brother and I were able to develop our tree-climbing skills most fully. It was also where this delightful picture was taken.

Unfortunately, as a four-year-old my taste buds were pretty crap and I absolutely refused to eat anything that was not kool-aid, a hot dog, or macaroni & cheese. I did not eat curry, or plantains, or chicken (unless it was KFC), or piranha, and I most definitely did not eat mangoes. While I've grown out of being a picky-eater, mangoes have continued to be the bane of my existence. As a four-year-old they made me throw up, and as a twenty-something-year-old their acrid smell, their stringiness, their overall squishiness continues to make me nauseous.

Which brings me to today, when a very kind man from my self-employment workshop brought me a mango from the mango tree in his backyard I acted all excited and promised I would try it as soon as a I got home and that I would tell him all about how it tasted during our next workshop.

Ugh.

I don't think I can do it. But I think I'll have to.

In less terrifying de ja vu news, I climbed an acacia tree on the way to church last Sunday. It was exactly like I remembered. Awesome.

echar sal en el mar

2011-05-16T20:24:00.004-04:00

My gerente keeps saying this: echar sal en el mar. Today he elaborated on the many, many problems in Honduras reminding us that what we do as a church, or even as an individual, to fight these problems is sometimes akin to throwing salt in the sea. But we keep at it nonetheless.

After being in Honduras only a week and being regaled by so many with so many real-life stories of poverty and despair, it's hard to feel overly optimistic. However, I've also been told that in a country with such rampant unemployment rates, the fact that we're offering a self-employment workshop fills a real niche, in that many people's only option is to become self-employed.

I feel hopelessly inadequate in this task. But hey, J. & I taught our first workshop today. And it was OK. There are so many amazing people here with amazing abilities and it's only right that they be given as many chances as possible to do something amazing with their lives.

So I keep echaring my little bit of salt in the sea.

íslenskar pönnukökur a la catracho

2011-05-14T10:07:00.008-04:00

I enjoy cooking. And this past week has consisted of a flurry of culinary activity of which I am actually quite proud. While J. & I eat out for lunch, I've been cooking dinner from scratch. The cooking arrangement has been quite lovely, in that I cook and J. eats what I cook and I think we're both happier that way. The kitchen is really only big enough for one person so what usually happens is J. looks up recipes and instructs me from the living room. This past week we've eaten:

Hashbrowns & scrambled eggs with liberal amounts of albahaca, olive oil, and Honduran mozzarella cheese. Cheese, outside America, is way better. And cheaper. Enough said.

Wings a la barbacoa: Chicken wings brushed with olive oil with a sprinkling of corn flakes, albahaca, and onions. We don't really have any oven pans so we resourcefully used our broiler pan. I was worried about the chicken sticking to said pan so I used a limon with butter on it (we didn't have any napkins or paper towels) to grease the pan which actually ended up burning (the butter, not the limon or the pan) during the cooking process giving the wings a delicious barbecue sabor.

Platanos. Unlike our previous successful kitchen accidents (burned butter barbecue) these sucked. I think it was primarily because the platanos I used were not maduro enough and so even after an over-long sauteeing process they were still hard. And gross. Everyone kept telling me that I needed to buy platanos that were asi, pero biennnn maduros so I fully accept the blame here.

Chocolate chip cookies. I tried to follow the good old Toll House recipe while using none of the actual ingredients (Nestle chocolate bar, only brown sugar, a dash of leche condensada for good measure) and came out with these muffin-like things that were OKish. Checque.

Pechuga en tortilla. I discovered that before sauteeing chicken breast, one must first pound the chicken with a meat mallet. Having no meat mallet, I resorted to punching the chicken. This was fun. I then softly covered the lambasted chicken with corn flour before sauteeing and then placing it along with albahaca, pepino, cheese, and limon into a flour tortilla. And, because I am an uncultured American, I added ketchup.

Finally, and of this I am most proud, I made Icelandic pancakes. Icelandic pancakes are like crepes, but better because they are Icelandic. I modified the recipe somewhat because I didn't have all the ingredients, and in an effort to remind myself that I am not in Iceland, but Honduras, I opted against the traditional jam/sugar topping and instead used dulce de leche which was AWESOME. I may have also squeezed some limon juice into the batter. And in an even further attempt to foster the meeting of cultures I made the pancakes while listening to Jonsi AND La Bomba (Movimiento Sensual ) by King Africa the latter which brought back fond memories of middle school Rec Night. Oh yes.

Speaking of middle school in Peru, my father sent me this video. It's the most hilarious thing I've seen in a while and involves a fleet of Peruvians visiting Peru, Nebraska in an effort to educate them on what it means to be Peruvian. So good. And the best marketing campaign I think I've ever, ever seen.

que pinta somas

2011-05-11T17:19:00.000-04:00

Things continue to be bueno.

Our gerente, Hmno V. is super pinta, and we have been, oh, so well fed these past couple of days. In terms of you know, acutal internship work J. & I have been busy learning about micro financing, self-employment workshops offered by the Honduran government, and all the jerga, digo caliche, necessary for teaching talleres de autoempleo ej. chamba=job, pisto=dinero, pulperia=small store thing. We've been making lots of phone calls to past participants of CRE (Centro de Recurso de Empleo) workshops trying to promote our workshop (which starts next week--gulp) and it's been a delightful and humbling experience speaking Spanish via phone. A lot of memories from my tenure working at the U.S. Embassy Caracas switchboard have come flooding back and I realize people are a lot more friendly when you call them offering free self-employment workshops than when you are trying to explain why their visa was denied.

J. & I continue to enjoy a delightful comraderie which was only reinforced by the companionship inventory we conducted at the Tegucigalpa Distribution Center with a Spanish copy of Preach my Gospel as we waited for Hmno. V. The whole world still thinks we are sister missionaries which explains why the nice delivery man from La Gran Fa Chinese Restaurant asks God to bless us, and which came in especially handy today when we were looking (lost and) for Baleada Express and some nice members decided to stop and help the sisters. We accept it because we are super white and in church clothes and conduct companionship inventory, so really, what else are people supposed to think? I (not so) secretly love it.

J. & I continue to drink liters, or actually quarts because Central Americans don't seem to use the metric system, of orchata and eat baleada upon baleada. Yesterday we ate an absolutely divine piece of postre tres leches on our way back from the Tegucigalpa temple construction site. The temple will be finished next June, but it's still exciting to see it in progress. It's located in a pretty nice area of Teguz with a spectacular vista of the city. Relatedly, the San Salvador temple open house is in July and J. and I are dead-set on going.

Also, I am a flood with ideas for my next folklore project which may or not include interviewing rehabilitated ex-gang members. We'll see about that one.

On a final note, I have some words for my male friends who served missions in Latin America and continue to regale me with stories of how their little 19-year-old selves were traumatized when so-and so started breast-feeding in front of them. I'd just like to say, that seeing (multiple) men drop their pants in the middle of the street to urinate and/or defecate has equal, if not more, potential for emotional scarring. So suck it up guys.

Honduras: Win

2011-05-08T18:49:00.011-04:00

We arrived in Tegucigalpa at 4pm yesterday, huzzah!

The flights were short, the layovers long. We got to LAX at 11:00p Friday night with our next flight scheduled to leave for San Salvador at 1:40a. This turned out to be a very good thing because apparently all of the TACA computer/automatic systems were out (mysteriously only TACA was affected by this electronic black-out because all of the other airlines were fine) so we had to stand in this forever-long line that stretched outside the airport to receive hand-written boarding passes. Goodness. Not surprisingly our flight was delayed so we missed our connecting flight from San Salvador to Tegucigalpa so we spent all day yesterday in the San Salvador airport which was mostly boring except for the 45 minutes we spent eating pupusas for lunch. Eating pupusas in El Salvador: Win. Totally crossing that off my bucket list.

Whilst in the San Salvador airport we also encountered this sign which I thought hilarious. I'm all for painting the world with happiness and hope, but the accompanying image of the world being doused with red dripping paint unfortunately brought more morbid images to mind. Bummer.

The flight to Tegucigalpa was only 4o minutes in a tiny propeller plane. The Tegucigalpa airport is smack dab in the middle of the city and has a tiny tiny runway. I think we circled above it about 3 or 4 times before we finally were close enough to land without dying or crashing into any houses which must have been literally meters from the actual airport. Win. Our manger Hmno. V picked us up and took us to our sweeeeet apartment which I love. I think I am dispuesta to fall in love easily, but seriously our apartment is awesome. He and Hmna. V took us grocery shopping (19 lempiras to a dollar btw) and out to eat at a traditional Honduran restaurant. At this point J and I were both exhausted and in my efforts to come across as an excited and positive intern (which I am of course) I may have instead come across as an over-excited preschooler as I excitedly (and over-loudly) kept repeating the names of all the food we were ordering none of which I currently remember. Kelsey: Lose. Regardless, I ate some pretty fine platanos and drank probably the best lemonade known to mankind.

Today we've recuperated somewhat by attending church--which is gloriously within walking distance--and napping. The ward is friendly the only down-side being it's occupied by two sets of elders and no sisters. So no splits for us. Sadness. We (unsuccessfully) explained to the ward that we, in fact, were not sister missionaries, but interns and were met with blank stare after blank stare. Oh well.

All in all, good game Honduras.

As a side, but nonetheless important note, my friend Seth, upon hearing that my journey to Honduras will last approx. 90 days was inspired to take on an equally epic 90-day challenge, namely that of P90X. He's volunteered and promised to send me pictures/updates of his progress, so blog reader(s) look forward to that. In an attempt to match Seth's physical prowess I will undertake an additional 90-day challenge of morning yoga w/Rodney Yee. So yeah, lots to look forward to for everyone.

Score: Kelsey: Honduras + Yoga. Seth: Kentucky + P90X. Kelsey: Win.

Finally, Feliz de las Madres! I can only hope that your madres are as awesome as mine, which they are not. Kelsey: Win.

goodbye america

2011-05-06T16:58:00.005-04:00

I said goodbye to america appropriately in that I ran around town running errands in sweatpants and no make-up, listening to sexyback, making hasty purchases that were inordinately over-priced due mostly to my hastiness, and getting epically lost at Smith's SUPERSTORE Marketplace. Good times.

Last-Minute Purchases:

1. Spanish Scriptures. Deseret Book really has quite the racket going on. Who knew getting some religion was so expensive??

2. Watercolor Paper. Duh.

3. Floss. I need to start someday.

4. The Princeton Review GRE Prep Book. It's best to learn complicated English words when in Honduras.

5. Laxatives and Anti-Diarrheal Medicine. I'd like to think that this purchase shows how on-top of things I am by anticipating all forms of impending gastronomic distress.

6. Cover-up. No explanation necessary.

7. A digital camera. It runs on AA batteries.

8. A&W Cream Soda. Soon I'll be drinking soda with real sugar.

In other news, the saddest last-minute plan failure is that the DMV is closed today so I won't be a renewing my license. Which is sad because it expires this summer and the only thing I remember from my Driving Prep course (aside from the Red Asphalt Video--so gross and terrifying) is how we were never, ever, ever, to let our license expire. Ah, such is life.

Life is bueno in Salt Lake, Honduras, & Korea

2011-05-02T22:48:00.008-04:00

First of all, I'm going to Honduras for the summer. I'm pretty excited. It's been three years since I've been in (the United States of) America, and only America, which is pretty much the longest I've ever been in only America since my birth. So it'll be good to return to Latin America, and even though I've never been to Central America, much less Honduras, it feels something like going (coming?) home.

Whilst in Honduras I'll be teaching the LDS Self-Employment Workshop which is a 16 hour faith-based workshop that encourages self-sufficiency through starting one's own business. I'll be teaching in Spanish. It's rather terrifying, but also so so good. I've wanted to go back to Latin America since forever, but I've wanted to go back in some sort of useful capacity and not just as a tourist. So this internship is literally a godsend.

Even though I spent eight years in Latin America they were years spent attending elite private schools and associating with the wealthier portions of the population. While I am so grateful for the experiences I had then, as well as the people I met, I'm excited for the impending three-month immersion where I will live and talk with every-day Hondurans and maybe be able to address the issue of poverty more than just in passing.

I had my first day of training in Salt Lake City today. More than anything I was deeply impressed with the scope and vision of the LDS Welfare Services and I'm excited to be a part of it all at least for a little while.

Anyway, those are my thoughts. And in a week I'll be in Honduras and I'll have stories and pictures and actual experiences! Yippee!

Also, on a side note I talked with my friend Adam the other day and he told me some wonderful news. Adam has been teaching English in Korea for the past year and apparently a little girl came to one of his English classes for the first time and didn't have an English name. So Adam named her Kelsey. I'm pretty sure I love Adam for this. And I for sure love my Korean namesake.

Life is indeed bueno.

It's fun to interview people about Iceland

2011-04-28T12:53:00.009-04:00

When I asked Mr. T "What Icelandic traditions do you think are important to pass on to future generations?" he responded:

"I do the following: Sing Icelandic folksongs in the grocery store or other lines, to pass the time and to drown out people blathering on cell phones"

That's pretty awesome, Mr. T.

tis the season...

2011-04-19T12:52:00.004-04:00

It's National Poetry Month. Huzzah!

Some favorite poems:

That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the comfort of the Resurrection--Gerard Manley Hopkins

"I am all at once what Christ is,' since he was what I am, and

This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, 'patch, matchwood, immortal diamond,

Is immortal diamond."

The Hollow Men--T.S. Eliot

"Is it like this

In death's other kingdom

Waking alone

At the hour when we are

Trembling with tenderness

Lips that would kiss

Form prayers to broken stone"

Birches--Robert Frost

"I'd like to get away from earth awhile

And then come back to it and begin over"

Pity the Bathtub Its Forced Embrace of the Human Form--Matthea Harvey

"Whenever we want we can pull the plug and get out

Which is not the case with our own tighter confinement

Inside the body oh pity the bathtub but pity us too"

James Joyce--Jorge Luis Borges

"Dame Señor, coraje y alegría/Para escalar la cumbre de este día "

The Rival--Sylvia Plath

"If the moon smiled, she would resemble you

You leave the same impression

Of something beautiful but annihilating"

The Mermaid--W.B Yeats

"A mermaid found a swimming lad,

Picked him for her own,

Pressed her body to his body,

Laughed; and plunging down

Forgot in cruel happiness

That even lovers drown."

Haere Ra--James K. Baxter

"We are broken by the Love of the Many

And then we are at peace

Like the fog, like the river, like a roofless house

That lets the sun stream in because it cannot help it"

You Fit Into Me--Margaret Atwood

"You fit into me

Like a hook into an eye

A fish hook

an open eye"

I hope this book rocks you like a particularly attractive hurricane

2011-04-13T17:20:00.005-04:00

And that is what Ander Monson signed in my copy of his book Vanishing Point: Not A Memoir.

I'm pretty sure he wrote this exact same thing in several other people's books, and I know he spelled my name wrong (Kelsie), but whatever because his book did rock me like a particularly attractive hurricane. I have never laughed so often at such insipid things, nor felt such compassion and comradery for fat-kid-vulgar-mouthed-gamers which are apparently something(s) of an Ander Monson epitome.

So yeah, you should probably read this book. It may not change your life, but it will at least validate it.

See, look at this guy. So affable. So approachable. So cuddly. He's toasting you and wearing flannel. Love him.

Full Size

2011-03-21T10:14:00.003-04:00

This is the full-sized version of my blog header picture.

I'm rather fond of ink and water.

I had a good weekend

2011-03-21T09:40:00.006-04:00

At one point I may have danced to this in a blissfully empty parking lot, car parked, music fully blasting, rain falling, everything awash in night and street light.

And that wasn't even the best part :)

I'm supposed to be obssessed with Iceland

2011-03-16T21:35:00.010-04:00

It's meant to be. This is why:

So, as I'm sure you're all aware, the first permanent settlement of Icelanders outside of Iceland is in Spanish Fork, UT. And Spanish Fork, UT happens to be very, very close to my current place of residence. And guess what? My (Welsh, eh I can't have it all) great-grandfather totally lived in Spanish Fork!

And you know why all those Icelanders came to Utah? Because they were Mormon of course. You see, a long time ago (circa 1850s) some Icelanders became Mormons and left Iceland for Utah. Most of these first Mormon-Icelandic pioneers came from here:

This is a picture of the island Vestmannaeyjar. It is a very small island off the southern coast of Iceland.

Vestmannaeyjar happens to be very close to another even smaller island where Bjork's home lives.

Iceland gave this house to Bjork because she was famous. Also, Vestmannaeyjar just happens to be the local of the annual puffin festival that I had previously blogged about here.

So, obviously, the fact that I:

A) Am Mormon
B) Have ties to Spanish Fork
C) Love Bjork
D) Had previously blogged about Vestmannaeyjar without even knowing that Mormon-Icelanders came from there
E) Live in Utah (home of the first permanent Icelandic settlement)

means that

A) My obsession with Iceland is Right, Good, and Destined
B) I will probably get a M.A. in either Polar Law or Old Nordic Religion at either the University of Akureyri or the University of Iceland
C) I am an epic puffin-slayer
D) I am therefore awesome
E) I am most likely descended from Lief Erikson and consequently am the Queen of North America. Huzzah!

Forever Young

2011-02-14T00:34:00.004-05:00

While doing a Google Image search I stumbled across this little gem.

Someday I will see this movie because it looks nothing short of awesome.

Do you think it takes place in Africa? Is that why Boy A is wearing a toga? Why is there a sheepdog? Do you think the sheepdog dies when Boy A saves Boy B's life? Do you think the movie ends with their tearful separation and the unspoken realization that no, they will not be forever young or forever free? Is that Mt. Kilimanjaro in the background? Mt. Timpanogos?

But most importantly, is Boy A going to clear Boy B's head???

Some beautiful things...

2011-01-08T18:07:00.004-05:00

My mother bought me the most wondrous Christmas present: an anthology of "the best poetry since 1900." It's fabulous, exquisitely presented, and comes with a CD of some of the poets reading their own poems. It's really something else to hear T.S. Eliot reading The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock and Sylvia Plath's recitation of Daddy.

I've also been introduced to numerous other poets, including John Betjeman whose poem The Licorice Fields at Pontefract is something quite perfect. My favorite lines were:

"Her sulky lips were shaped for sin"

and

"Oh love! for love I could not speak,

It left me winded, wilting, weak,"

Gorgeous. John Betjeman leaves me winded, wilting, weak.

(P.S. My roomie came home from Christmas break with the album Dark Was the Night. It's mind-blowing and includes artists from The Decemberists and Iron & Wine to bands I'd never even heard of but are equally grand. Check it out)

Family, Friends, & 2010

2010-12-19T22:42:00.011-05:00

2010

It's been a good year. I've done some things; like finished two more semesters of school (April 2012 baby!), gotten addicted to some new TV shows, had what was arguably the world's most awesome internship, made some new friends, enjoyed Provo & D.C., had myself a good time, etc. But, like most posts, I find that the most effective way to dwell upon some of 2010's highlights is in list form.

1: Finished up the Campus Plaza stint. After two years in Campus Plaza it was nice to say goodbye, and you know, stop sleeping in bunk beds and sharing a single bathroom with five other girls. Don't get me wrong, Campus Plaza was great. But it was also great to leave.

2: Road tripping to Idaho for Sam's farewell. I don't go on road trips much, so the five hour drive to Idaho Falls was rather novel. Also, I got to ride snow mobiles and hang out with Mallorie, Canada, Jeff, and Sam. Can things get more awesome? Of course not.

3: Food. 2010 was the year of great meals. From the epicness of The Cheesecake Factory, to late night Taco Bell runs, Sukiyaki, sushi, stuffed squash & mushrooms, barbecued vegetables, and the discovery of herbal tea, it's been a fantastic year.

4: The Internship: Wondrous. When will I ever again be able to work in the heart of D.C., commuting on the metro, wearing heels, doing work from 8-5 that's not only stimulating and demanding, but that revolves around Latin America? Summer 2011, that's when! Yahoo!

5: After years of excruciatingly slow texting, I finally figured out the wonders of T9. I am an achingly late bloomer, but am now on my way to becoming a texting beast.

6: Saw Sufjan in concert! Obsessed over Imagine Dragons. Was introduced to Fun., Freelance Whales, Jose Gonzalez, and rediscovered Iron & Wine, and Moby.

7: Discovered BYU without Grace. The being without Grace is not a highlight, per se, but it's been great to be able to support my best friend as she serves a mission. I've loved getting her letters and emails, and can better appreciate the fantastic three years she was my roommate. I miss her lots, can only be proud that she's decided to spend 18 months in Tampa preaching the gospel, and sharing her awesomeness with the people of Florida. They're pretty lucky, as am I.

8: Mallorie! From riding brakeless bikes through downtown D.C., weekly swims in the RB pool, to perpetual conversations in broken Spanish & German, 2010 would have been dark and cold without M. She is witty, hilarious, and good, and I am so, so, so glad we are amigas. Ist gut. TQM.

9: The return of freshman friends was oh so wonderful and spending Fall semester with the likes of these was heavenly. (Special shout out to Spencer, who not only will travel to see FJORDS with me, but who is now officially in the photography program!)

10: I am so grateful I got to live at home this summer and spend time with the two little brothers and Mom and Pop. Having older brother at the Y is an added blessing. In addition, I have easy access to the smatterings of extended family across the Wasatch Front and the greater D.C. metro area. Life couldn't be much better.

Thoughts in Chronological Order

2010-11-14T23:11:00.004-05:00

1: Sometimes life is crazy. And sometimes words and sentences and alliteration make it all palatable and achingly beautiful.

2: I got that sudden earnest Latin pang, for culture and/or love and even though I still had Cream of Wheat crusted on my lower lip I was so cool.

3: On December 28, 2009 a woman was killed in a house fire. The gas to her house had been shut off and she was trying to warm herself with charcoal briquettes.

4: Somehow God still loves me even though I am dumb, dumb, dumb.

5: In months from now where will I be? My life is delectable possibility. Three things: I will be OK, I am in love NOW, When I breathed against my sheets last night, the breath that came back was his.

6: I think to live is something very like what we are doing now; with only a trace, a tinge, of regret. We face our future daunted, but supremely happy to be so near and wanted (somehow) by the other. To be with you is something so perfect I wonder why I spend the rest of my time. This is the suckerpunch of beauty, because I am going to miss you, and maybe it will be excruciating.

7: I wanted to ride trains so badly stories became memories.

8: Lake Burton is large and Southern. The reflection of sun on water burns into my retinas. I sit in a headached daze, baffled by unchartered waters, terrified of going back to certain city noise.

9: There is something wondrous about Friday evening metro rides. Sweaty faces smooth. Newspaper, tissues, stains of gum, a straw wrapper, plastic. Faces rest against the windows leaving oily impressions of foreheads shielded from the falling rain. The metro is blessed dry.

10: Yesterday I took four motrins and was caffeinated alert insane. I was so aware of my breathing (in-a-not-yoga-way) and how many times I needed to blink, which, let me tell you, were few and and far between.

11: It's been one of those Sundays. One of those Sundays where I rejoiced in bounteous breakfast: hash browns, scrambled eggs, sweet watermelon, OJ, and brownies. One of those Sundays I sleep in too late and spend inordinate amounts of time lamenting my complexion. One of those Sundays where my feet ache from playing Ultimate Frisbee the day before--barefoot on rough and scalding ground. One of those Sundays where I realize I have no idea who I'll be in two months. Just, you know, one of those Sundays.

Lived life and it was a dream.

TONIGHT

2010-11-01T10:07:00.001-04:00

Sufjan in SLC.

I am so, so, so, so excited.

HAPPY (also check out my friend Spencer's blog so you can see how talented he is).

2010-10-20T00:37:00.006-04:00

Today I was SO PRODUCTIVE until I came home and read this. But it was so worth it.

Kind of.

We'll see how I do on my midterm tomorrow.

Also, I am in such a good mood.

And I ate a "too share" pack of peanut M&Ms...

ALL BY MYSELF.

And that was totally worth it too.

Also, I feel like this.

And this.

Hurrah!

Images courtesy of the wonderful Spencer

He's classy, talented, and a world class photographer.

Be afraid

2010-10-07T11:49:00.006-04:00

I am terrified that one day as I listen to music on my laptop w/head phones in the quiet zones of the library that my head phones will become unplugged and I won't notice. Then I will be hated and mocked and MORTIFIED.

Me + Soapbox. Read at your own peril.

2010-09-29T20:45:00.005-04:00

At times, I have a love/hate relationship with the English major. Being an English major teaches me to think, to write, to love, and yearn for truth, beauty, and the good--it's true. But a shocking number of English majors (and I must shamefully admit, that many a time I find myself in this category), live and write midst the thick of thin things; making shallow, meaningless connections between this thing at that thing and oh yeah, that other thing, all while managing not to say anything at all.

...my own, and others', meaningless contributions to the world...

1: Referencing Harry Potter and/or Twilight. This is very bad, and unfortunately, I hear these comparisons at least once a day. I am proud to say I NEVER do this (at least not out loud). When you are reading Mark Twain or Gertrude Stein, or heck, anybody, it is neither cool or credible to say "When Stein starts talking bout colors in that poem, it reminded me about this one time in Harry Potter when Peeves said..." This is a major faux de pas. First off, if you have become an English major just because you read all (or even one) of the Harry Potter books and liked it, please reconsider. You are not doing yourself, or your classmates, any favors. Also, I personally like to forget Mrs. Meyer is a BYU alumnus, and when you reference Edward in connection to Stephen Dedalus it makes me want to cry tears of rage and shame. If such insipid thoughts do pop into your head, banish them immediately and then repent. This is what I do.

2: It is probably a bad idea to present Episode 15 of Ulysses by showing your classmates clips of SNL and Family Guy and then saying that since college students in 90 years won't get the relevance of these clips, we (the 90-year post-Joyce college students) will never get Ulysses. Clever. But really, not nearly clever enough.

3: " The line 'something is rotten in the state of Denmark' reminds me of when in Julius Caesar they say beware the Ides of March, because, like, there is all this ominous foreboding which relates to like how we know things are real, but like don't at the same time, and what I think Shakespeare is, well you know, trying to do, is just be really meaningful here."

4: No, I would not like to Jabberwocky that hymn.

5: Comparisons between Faulkner and Glee may exist in abundance, but I try to keep them to myself.

6: Sometimes a lot of love (or hate) will happen between you and a specific author or piece. For example, I have a lot love for a Mr. John Keats and a Mrs. Sylvia Plath and a lotta hate for a Mr. Daniel Defoe*, but I cannot express these sentiments in an academic setting without critical reasoning to back up these innate sentiments. Obviously, I endorse the feeling of these feelings, but I cannot condone their public expression in statements like: "I just really liked this book" or "I don't know about historical context, I just wanted to say this book made me so mad!" or "This poem sucks." These statements are boring, if you're not going to, or can't, elaborate, I would prefer not to hear it at all.

* In a blogging setting, it is perfectly acceptable to make superlative statements i.e. I hate Daniel Defoe, without justification. Ha!

Enough hate.

If you take anything away from this blog post, let it be that baby elephants and small children are adorable, and that they kind of, you know, remind me of literature and stuff.

Fall.

2010-09-26T18:30:00.002-04:00

I enjoy fall, but also dread what comes after. So this year I plan to ignore the foreboding chill in the air and rejoice most fully in the abundance of juxtaposed complimentary colors, squash, Halloween, and hot chocolate.

Bring it.

Also....

2010-09-11T14:21:00.002-04:00

And on this September 11th, may God bless America, and the world.

No eating. Praying. In need of love.

2010-09-11T13:47:00.006-04:00

I dislike sickness. It's gross and it's making me stay inside on possibly the last warm(ish) Saturday Provo will experience for a while. Also, when I called my mother so that she could comfort me in this, the day of my affliction, she was out.

Sigh.

But an exciting thing happened: I woke up this morning to the sounds of huge amounts of air being released. I looked out my window to see a giant hot air balloon hovering dangerously close to the roofs of the houses across the street. Indiscernible screaming came from whoever(s) were inside the basket. Then the balloon drifted off (not gaining any altitude mind you) towards the duck pond. Good times. I'm gonna assume they're OK.

May your Saturday be equally full of the exciting, but not of sickness.

Remember to drink lots of fluids.

See a glacier, eat a puffin. Come on, you know you want to.

2010-08-16T20:38:00.006-04:00

I've been doing quite a bit of soul searching lately. I've discovered loads of things about myself including this:

I really, really want to go to Iceland.

Iceland is the place. The big one. The culmination of all I hope and dream to be. And it only costs between $400-600 for a round ticket to Reykjavic from either Seattle, Boston, or New York on Icelandic Air. Who's with me?!

But seriously folks, what's not to love? First off, Iceland is an island, and when on the island that is Iceland, you can even go visit other islands like Vestmannaeyjar for example. According to Wikipedia, you can ride a ferry to Vestmannaeyjar, visit with the 4,500 local residents, and if you go in the summer you get to visit eight million additional residents: the puffins that migrate to Vestmannaeyjar every year. And, if you are particularly on target with the timing of your visit, you can participate in the annual "catch and eat some puffins" festival. Yum :)

Did you know Iceland is on both the European and North Atlantic tectonic plates? Yup, it's true. And there are fjords, lots and lots of fjords. And of course if there are fjords there must be glaciers as well. Well, while global warming has done its favors for Iceland (start planting that barely and cabbage, this here's a temperate climate folks!), its glaciers are fast receding. So, as recommended by a very persuasive tourist site, "Want to see an Icelandic glacier? Better book your flight today."

There's no time like the present. See the volcanoes and the fjords, eat some puffins, ice pick your way up a glacier before it melts.

Iceland I love you and I haven't even met you. Please wait for me as I scrape up the money to fly to you and visit all your national parks (Thingvellir, Skaftafell, Jokulsarglufur, Snaefellsjokull, and Vatnajokull). I know I can't speak Icelandic, or Danish, and my vegetarianism and slight lactose intolerance doesn't bode well for the traditional Icelandic diet of lamb, fish, ram, decaying shark head, blood sausage, and everything dairy. But I'm willing to do what it takes. Plus I'll be visiting you during puffin catching season and I'm all about free range meat.

Till then.

There be puffins in this place...

Amighetti

2010-08-08T11:55:00.004-04:00

I recently stumbled upon this artist. I am in love.

Dear Mr. Francisco Amighetti, I adore your wood prints, and especially your watercolors. Costa Rica has just jumped up several places on my "must travel to" list.

Love.

And some have greatness thrust upon them.

2010-08-08T11:44:00.002-04:00

Last week my father told me I had the makings of a "true gamer," and that if I properly applied myself, I could be "great." I pretended like I thought that was silly, but in reality it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It's good to have a promising fall back you know? In case this internship thing doesn't work out.

My place.

2010-08-08T10:42:00.013-04:00

I've finished 13 weeks of my internship, with only 3 more to go. On the whole it's been lovely. I work hard and learn lots.

However, my on-the-job-coolness varies daily. Some days I ride in taxis through downtown DC saying things like "the corner of Independence and 17th please," while sitting nonchalantly in the back seat, legs crossed in 3" heels, leather binder portfolio in my lap, preparing to give articulate and somewhat well-informed opinions on the state of spending plans, and the latest GAO report.

However, there are many more days when I spill easy-mac on my dress, or forget ALL acronyms and what they mean, or am told that my office legacy lies mainly in my insistence on comma consistency. Those are the days I remember my place.

Do you enjoy taking hot showers and wearing clothes...at the same time?

2010-08-04T20:38:00.003-04:00

Come spend your summer in DC: where you can experience steaming heat, 100% humidity, and sweat-soaked clothes all day, every day.

There's a reason this city shuts down in August.

hills & ceramic tiled roofs

2010-07-31T21:39:00.005-04:00

Venezuela. Again.

What can I say? I miss it...

and the saga continues...

2010-07-14T20:02:00.000-04:00

I've been a bit obsessed with painting flowers. I promise I'll stop soon.

And if my flower saga fails to impress: Today I changed the water bottle at work.

Yeah, that's right.

Begonia(s)

2010-07-10T20:00:00.000-04:00

Negligence

2010-07-03T08:37:00.000-04:00

These are daisies.

These are how daisies look before you forget to water them and they die.

Oops.

A Happy Father's Day, I wish to you.

2010-06-20T11:43:00.000-04:00

One of the (many) happy things about this summer is that I get to commute with my Father. My Father, a bona fide Commuter Warrior, is an impressive sight to behold. He is fearless; squeezing through metro doors with milliseconds to spare. Undaunted by the hostile Other, he weaves his way through crowds, up escalators, across streets, all with relentless and visible Purpose. Sometimes (to, and probably for, my great delight) he accomplishes all of this whilst using Jedi-like hand signals and Yoda-esque syntax.

Thank you Father. Your Infinite Wisdom and Patience continues to correct my somewhat lackadaisical commute.

We don't talk about being buff all the time, just most of the time.

2010-06-09T20:15:00.001-04:00

Today my brother Connor told me his female gym teacher had biceps as big as his head. Connor's head is very big.

After Connor said this I immediately remembered an odd, and very buff, acquaintance of mine. [Note: This acquaintance's buffness is incidental to her oddness. I have nothing against people, of either gender, who are buff. Kumbaya.]

Anyhow, this acquaintance once said (among many other things) that she would only date men she couldn't bench press.

Simultaneously I remembered this acquaintance and was struck with a strong desire to be both witty and humorous. Consequently, I told Connor: "I only date men I can bench press," when I really meant to say, "I only date men I can't bench press" and thus allude to our shared buff acquaintance.

Connor laughed heartily. Not because he remembered our shared acquaintance, but because I can't bench press anything, much less a man.

Moral: I guarantee my biceps are smaller than your head.

When you're tired and you know it....

2010-06-03T19:11:00.000-04:00

I preface this entry with an important fact: I adore my internship. Really, really, really.

However, any 8-5 job ( and if we include commutes and after-hour work, any 7-7 job) is long, and I am often tired. For my co-workers, this problem is fought with coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. As a non-coffee drinker, I am forced to find more creative ways to stay awake.

Herbal Tea. This has served a number of important purposes. During the great coffee exodus of the early morning hours, I too participate, as I race down to the cafeteria to snatch up those coveted "Apple & Cranberry" tea bags. I supplement my herbal pick-me-up with sliced lemons and ridiculous amounts of honey. I would use sugar, but State has opted to only use Sweet-n-Low. Gross. Fake honey at least uses real sugar, or corn syrup. Whatever.

Perhaps most importantly, my herbal tea habit equips me with a Beverage. Very little brings me more satisfaction than strutting down endless hallways (with dress shoes clicking of course) holding a steaming mug of something. This gives me Purpose.

Blueberry Donuts. My goodness, haven't you ever wanted a blueberry muffin that's been deep fried and glazed? I have seen the light and heaven help me if I return.

V8 Pomegranate Juice. The ultimate placebo effect. It comes in purple aluminum cans that bear uncanny resemblance to energy drinks. Also, the amount of sodium in the drink gives me a headache, so I actually feel like I'm drinking an energy drink. And then there is the pomegranate aspect (nature's best gift) and the trademark V8 tomato juice flavor that packs a wallop. Hello!

Dark Chocolate. In any form, I'm not picky. Just thinking of all the beneficial anti-oxidants helps me through the day.

Slim Fast Chocolate Milk. This habit started on accident. The only chocolate milk options I had were either Atkins or Slim Fast. I chose the latter, because massive amounts of protein scare me. Slim Fast shakes are intended to be 190 calorie meals, (!) so they are packed with iron, vitamin B6, riboflavin, and other daily essentials. Yippee!

Life is good, and at the moment, full of artificial alertness.

Namaste.

And those lips! Sun-melted chocolate, leaving marks that scorch.

2010-05-31T12:30:00.000-04:00

The best things about summer are flowers and sun.

Happy Memorial Day!

May has been lovely to me, as I hope it's been lovely to you.

Some much needed perspective.

2010-05-25T22:09:00.001-04:00

My brother Anson is a pretty solid guy. I ask him important questions and get rad answers in return.

Today I asked Anson: "What do you want from life?"

Anson: "To get the girl, get a cool job, go on a mission, be buff, and then receive all the good things that come from being buff."

Unequivocally, Anson has his giant buff thumb on the pulse of life.

Today I am suckerpunched by beauty (among other things).

2010-05-20T20:18:00.001-04:00

Today was a good day.

Today was a good day because it was a perpetual affirmation of: "The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works!" (Ps. 145:9 - emphasis added)

Today was good even when I didn't expect it to be. I love surprises.

Today I realized that my internship is perfect.

Today my hair wasn't frizzy and I ate dark chocolate M&Ms. I wore polka-dotted tights, saw baby goslings, ate Italian food for lunch, and spoke Spanish.

Today I arrived home to discover a brand new yoga mat on my bed, courtesy of my mother.

Today I am writing this blog entry on my very own purple yoga mat. Enough said.

* The phrase "Suckerpunch of beauty" is from the poem Ortolan by Kimberly Johnson.

I won't have to wish that I'm in Dixie......

2010-05-01T20:56:00.000-04:00

Next week I'm heading down South.

I ADORE the South.

Although, my actual "real-life" experience of the South consists only of the 2.5 months I spent in Georgia as a counselor at a private Jewish camp (keeping kosher is probably not the most typifying Southern experience), I feel a deep, deep connection for all (well most) things below the Mason-Dixon line. Consequently, I am beyond thrilled to spend next week chilling in North Carolina and Georgia.

Okra will be grilled.

Which I will then eat whilst on a boat whilst on the lake.

I may or may not succeed in wake boarding.

I will dare to eat a peach.

(I may also wear white flannel trousers whilst walking on a beach)

But most importantly, there will be Sara.

Together we will wear matching t-shirts...

brush up on our Southern knowledge...

and enjoy those Southern sunsets.

Thank goodness for friends who are wonderful and brilliant

(and who just happen to live in North Carolina).

And enter Summer....

2010-04-29T12:03:00.000-04:00

Although technically it's still Spring....

School is out, I am home, and it is Summer

(in all the practical ways at least).

I have big plans this summer most of which include watercolor and poetry. Yippee!

I am currently reading Ariel by Sylvia Plath and I LOVE it.

I've included some snippets so you will LOVE it too.

"I didn't want any flowers, I only wanted

To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty"

--Tulips

"Clouds pass and disperse.

Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?

Is it for such I agitate my heart?"

--Elm

"Their whiteness bears no relation to laundry,
Snow, chalk, or suchlike. They're

The real thing, all right: the Good, the True--"

--Magi

"Where are you going

That you suck breath like mileage?"

--The Other

"Behind the glass of this car

The world purrs, shut-off and gentle."

--Berck-Plage

"Marble lilies

Exhale their pallor like scent."

--Barren Woman

I wish I could write like that.

My future is bright.

2010-04-19T11:55:00.001-04:00

These are things I look forward to:

1: Finishing my last two finals, and, consequently, my Spanish minor. O sea.

2: Chilling with the grandparents.

3:DCing it up.

4: Bike rides to Lake Accotink.

5: Driving this sweet beast.

Blog like no one is watching. Blog like no one is listening. Blog like you've never been hurt and don't have a final paper due in 2.5 hours.

2010-04-13T12:47:00.001-04:00

This blog post is a shout out to Lisa.

This blog post is not a shout out to how Lisa ditched out on me on what could've been an epic all-nighter of paper writing.

This blog post is not a shout out to how I slept through my alarm this morning.

This blog post is a shout out to Mark Twain.

This blog post is a shout out to Sylvia Plath.

This blog post is a shout out to 25%-off-poetry-sales-at-the-BYU-Bookstore-combined-with-poor-spending-habits.

This blog post is not a shout out to ennui/incredible lack of motivation despite dreadfully impending finals, tests, packings, movings, leavings, and missings.

Holler.

I'm feeling deep.

2010-04-05T14:15:00.000-04:00

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

-- C.S. Lewis

This is a picture of Iceland.

I think that Iceland might be other-worldly enough to satisfy at least some of my desires.

Listen to Sigur Ros.

Really.

I muse.

2010-03-30T18:17:00.000-04:00

Self-Reflection, in all its forms, can be much.

Blogs. Journals. Creative Writing Journals. Multitudes of Self-Portraits.

Is this healthy behavior?

Moving on.

Here are some jewels I've gathered whilst Self-Reflecting.

I present them to you selflessly.

1: Mozzarella Cheese. Yum.

2: Are you a solitary Bartleby staring out the dead wall window of civilization? Awesome.

3: "She liked loving, renounced being loved, and only rarely thought of slitting his throat."

- Annie Dillard

4: I am invincible when I wear skinny jeans.

5: I discriminate against people who use racial slurs.

6: My cheeks will soon become buff from gum-chewing.

7: All good songs in Spanish are about love. Did you know?

8: Like Cielito Linda, I too have a lunar.

9: I must always eat arepas and dance.

10: La verdad es: todavia estamos en Francia.

11: I looked like a Bond Girl. Idaho looked pretty good too.

12: Nothing ever happens. Ever.

13: I wish I were playing Boggle.

14: What?

15: This is basically what I mean to mutter: "I mean only to mutter darkly that in the present confusion of technical sophistication and significance, an emperor or two might slip by with no clothes."

- Annie Dillard

Obviously, I am still on an Annie Dillard high.

You're welcome.

That man drives me to Radiohead, among other things

2010-03-20T22:51:00.001-04:00

I am going to try very hard to make this entry about my art.

Not really.

I haven't listened to Radiohead since 11th grade. I made this decision after I listened to one of their songs and then promptly failed my calculus test. Consequently, I made the totally logical association that Radiohead is evil (my test failure being totally unrelated to my complete ineptitude for all things math).Well dear reader(s?) I am listening to Radiohead, even as I write this. And I am finding I much prefer to keep my levels of angstiness to things The Cure and Sufjan can handle. Oh, but, and how, I've missed those forever-long Radiohead guitar solos!

Don't worry this is just a stage.

And now for much, much worthier art. I am currently reading Living by Fiction by Annie Dillard.

CONCLUSION: Annie. Dillard. is. BOMB.

If you haven't read anything by her, please do. Your life will change. Her syntax makes me weepy it's so beautiful.

And in order to end this blog post in a somewhat rhetorical manner I finish with the genius of Annie + a callback to Radiohead/guitars + a shout-out to art that makes life much easier to handle aesthetically.

"The mind is a blue guitar on which we improvise the song of the world." - Annie Dillard

Oh.

Yes.

Claire Awesomeness

2010-03-10T01:11:00.000-05:00

So today I hung out with Claire. Hanging out with Claire always involves some degree of awesomeness, but today....

We did this!

Shout out to Claire for allowing me to participate in mural-chalk-art. Being paid with Hot-n-Ready and Cream Soda also a major plus.

Love life.

Lions don't eat vegetables....

2010-03-04T12:01:00.000-05:00

I am conflicted.

So I am STILL illustrating "Marco and Scarlett's Vegetable Venture" for the Womens' Health Clinic. I feel like it will do good things. As a vegetarian, I'm down with promoting vegetables (even carrots and especially spinach). And if I end up impressing upon young minds that lions wear pants and eat leafy greens, what of it?

Dilemma 1: So Grace's four-year-old nephew comes by while I'm working on my illustrations and immediately looks at my pictures and comments: "Lions don't eat vegetables." Yeah, well.

Dilemma 2: I was also having a conversation with my mother about the relationship between the quality of illustrations vs. child-friendliness. Conclusion: The fact that I am drawing poor quality illustrations of lions in sun-dresses may actually be extremely appealing to young children, despite the absence of aesthetic stimulation.

Dilemma 3: When I worked for Discovery Creek last summer the most-requested book was "The Big Golden Book of Cavemen." This book was chalk full of graphic depictions of hairy Neanderthals slaughtering and eating zebras and mammoths.

Conclusion:

Children want this:

Not this:

Look, whatever happens, Neanderthals and aesthetic implications aside, eat your vegetables!

And then the sun went down, and we all lived happily ever after?

2010-02-11T12:57:00.000-05:00

I feel like Matthew Arnold's poetry (and not Arnold's prose which is unfortunate because his prose is much more clever and in TOTAL control. Seriously, if I felt like his prose I'd be a beast in all the good ways).

Sometimes I am bit wearied by irony, and so in a less beautiful and slightly less melodramatic way I say this.

Don't you think some more answers would be nice? Or how about a good old fashioned conclusion?

Then their day was done, the sun went down, and they fell asleep with the promise of a lovely morning filled with sunshine, a good breakfast, and lots of love & fun.

Ambiguity is not always nice.

The End.

With much love...

2010-02-10T20:02:00.000-05:00

I miss you when you're not around.

I am feeling very lovestruck...

2010-01-28T01:45:00.000-05:00

When I read Neruda's poems I cry.

When I read Keats' poems I cry.

When I read Hopkins' poems I cry.

I think I am love with angsty and emotionally taxing love. Awesome.

Also, I am working on an "artsy/creative love reflection piece" for this awesome girlie. So I am reflecting on love a lot. Not that I didn't reflect on love before. I am just being more creatively focused on L.O.V.E.

Hopefully.

Un barrio en Caracas

2010-01-18T18:30:00.000-05:00

Como te extraño Venezuela.

Graffiti

2010-01-12T23:52:00.000-05:00

Last semester I painted a bunch of watercolors of graffiti from Mexico & Venezuela. They are not particularly good (or well scanned for that matter) but they were fun to do. I think graffiti can be so beautiful and revealing and I often lament the lack of vandalized buildings in America.

Pero asi es la life.

So I mostly draw my own face, and then I make it more interesting.

2010-01-09T13:51:00.000-05:00

Very few of my so called self-portraits turn out looking like me anyway. I might as well pretend it's on purpose.

Wishing I could always paint my eyebrows with acrylic.

2010-01-07T13:05:00.000-05:00

Self-portraits are so trippy. Try it.

My lips are bleeding from kissing you goodbye...

2010-01-04T16:51:00.001-05:00

I am in love with the Dan in Real Life soundtrack. Huzzah!!

I am also ALMOST done with this project. It's only taken a year. Goodbye (hopefully) lions, spinach, and carrots!

My Dad sends me the best emails.

2009-11-05T17:11:00.000-05:00

Dad: I came across below in Wiki. It made me laugh out loud.

"Brandon Flowers receives Home Teachers on a monthly basis, and regularly proves the winner of his ward's Variety Show.

Of course.

He is the best baby in the whole world

2009-10-01T23:33:00.001-04:00

La Cara

2009-09-04T00:58:00.000-04:00

These is my boots. They have personality.

2009-08-31T20:18:00.001-04:00

I will miss what Virginia did to my hair...

2009-08-24T09:52:00.001-04:00

Art Visionaries:Meet the Crew

2009-08-01T12:43:00.000-04:00

Pretending To Be a Commuter: DC Metro

2009-07-05T14:31:00.001-04:00

Shell

2009-05-27T19:42:00.001-04:00

Motley Collection: A pair of glasses, brother, bottomless plant.

2009-05-26T13:21:00.001-04:00

Some Strawberries?

2009-05-21T15:30:00.000-04:00

Have I said that I love summer?

I love Summer.

I LOVE summer.

Summer, I do love thee.

Ohhhhh, Summer.

SUMMER...mmmmm

I LOVE SUMMER

and......strawberries.