"I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together" ... but why has no one realized that we're all just walruses?

Does anyone know how to get in touch with God?  He/She/It is being impersonated and someone needs to break the news.  It's an illegal offense, you know, and (the United States of) America is as guilty as O.J. Simpson's gloves.

It all started with an unwelcome takeover in 1492, when Columbus discovered America and displaced all the Native Americans.  Got that?  *Native* Americans...that means that everyone who came after was not native, simple as that.  Then, as I understand it (and I was never a history buff), more people kept moving in.  The first settlers arrived at Jamestown in 1607 and the thirteen colonies were soon established.  So, to summarize what we've learned so far: America was founded by immigrants.

Now, here we are, more than 400 years later, and we, Americans, are discriminating against other immigrants who want to have the same opportunities that "we" have.  What right do "we" have to play God and decide who should be entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?  How did this "we" become a "we," anyway?  Who constitutes part of the "we"?  And the "others"?  If roles were reversed, would the others discriminate against "us" Americans?  When you think about it, the term "American" has come to connote the idea of coming from the United States of America.  But what about Central Americans?  And South Americans?  Why is it that they are Central Americans and South Americans but don't get to reap the benefits of being an American?  It's not like we, members of the United States, are *the* Americans.  We are merely *some* Americans.

So when people make the often-several-week perilous journey to cross the border illegally in search of a better life, what right does border patrol and everyone else have to say that they aren't welcome here, that they have to go back from where they came?  What if the Native Americans had said that to Columbus?  Or if the Jamestown settlers were deported for just getting off the boat and saying that that land was their land?  Then, where would we be?  Probably scattered around the world in places whose residents choose to emigrate to the U.S.  Probably trying to decide how to best help our families and whether it would be worth it to trek to the U.S. and cross the border illegally, knowing full well that one must choose between providing a better life for his family and staying with his family, never able to successfully do both.

When faced with such a decision, what would you choose?  Would you sacrifice seeing your family and friends again so that you might be able to create and maintain a lifelong window to various opportunities? Perhaps when thinking about, commenting on, and judging those who have made that decision -- in true Sophie's Choice fashion -- "we Americans" should be more accepting of the "others," who arguably constitute "otherness" based on the simple fact that they were not born on United States soil.

If you think about it, even "our" national anthem is a contradiction.  In the multi-verse "The Star-Spangled Banner," each verse ends with "O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave."  Well, freedom connotes that every individual has the right and power to authoritatively make decisions for oneself.  That doesn't seem to be the case with immigrants to the U.S.  And the home of the brave?  Why is the label "the brave" restricted to people who enjoy the freedoms that were won hundreds of years ago by other people?  It seems that the "real braves" are those who actually fight for what they believe in, especially those who know full well that that their beliefs do not conform to popular consensus.

Besides analyzing the Star-Spangled Banner in this way, maybe the Declaration of Independence needs another look.  It explicitly states that, "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness." The word unalienable (a variant of "inalienable") has been explained in the following context: "In contrast, natural rights (also called moral rights or unalienable rights) are rights which are not contingent upon the laws, customs, or beliefs of a particular society or polity. Natural rights are thus necessarily universal, whereas legal rights are culturally and politically relative" (according to Wikipedia).  Wouldn't that mean, then, that everyone -- regardless of their customs or beliefs -- is entitled to those rights?  Even those who fall under the term "aliens"?  It's kind of curious, actually, how those who illegally come from outside the U.S. are deemed "aliens" and that, in our very own Declaration of *Independence* we assert particular rights as being unalienable! But really,ever since 1492, hasn't our country been made up of aliens?  Maybe our whole collective "intro-American" perspective has just perpetuated itself all because of a silly case of semantics...

 "I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together" ... but why has no one realized that we're all just walruses?

A Fatal Shot of Reality

Of all the travels I have done, my trips to El Salvador have had the most profound impact on my life.  While I did not spend months and months there, the experiences I had there and continue to have because of the people I know there still resonate with me, even from nearly 8,000 miles away.

A couple of weeks ago, I received notice of a fatal accident that happened, but before I can get to that, I need to give some background.

---

Last January, one of the people I met when I was in the community was Billy.  He must have been 21 or so and, in fact, he didn't even live in our community but, rather, in a nearby one.  During the course of that trip, he did seem a little strange but, because sometimes people are just strange, we didn't think much of it.  So, during those three weeks, he was just someone of whom to be mindful, but not to fear.

In June, our interactions with him were a little bit different.  When working on one of the physical labor projects, he was talking with one of our group members and mentioned that he only had one pair of shoes, the shoes he was wearing.  The delegate from our group asked how much shoes cost and he said about $20.  She then pulled out $20 and gave it to him so that he could go buy a new pair of shoes.  Upon hearing this story later and asking community members if what he said was, indeed, true (it wasn't), we were told a few more details about this guy.  I learned that he would come around more often when the gringos were there and that he had a history of un-kosher activity (stealing (not just from the gringos), making people feel uncomfortable, etc.).  So, we started to keep an eye out and take active precautions to make sure nothing would happen.

A few days after we heightened our skepticism, one of the members of the community ran to where our group was eating lunch to tell us that Billy had just had a seizure and had hit his head.  He had been sitting outside of the community library (about 20 yards away from where we were) and had fallen off the ledge, hitting his head on the cobblestone ground.  We all ran to see what was going on, and since I was one of only a few people with a cell phone, I called the doctor we had on call and explained the situation.  He gave us instructions on how to handle everything and within several minutes, Billy was in a car on his way to the hospital.  Considering the previous days' events of having him lurking around, it was actually a relief to know that he was in the hospital as opposed to hanging around the community.  So you can imagine the unsettled feeling I had when he returned around dinnertime, only several hours later and with bandages (no stitches) on his head.  (We had found out that what had led to his seizure was that he had stopped taking his medicine, which was both for his mood and to prevent seizures..I suppose that'll do it.)

After our evening activity, as we were all leaving to go home, he pulled me aside to apologize and to tell me that he really didn't mean any harm and that, after what happened earlier in the day, he knows that we're good people.  He said that we took care of him in a crisis and he respects that and won't forget it.  Following that conversation, our group decided to be accepting without being inviting (a subtle -- yet important -- difference).  We would say hello and ask how things were going but would not extend any offers to partake in what we were doing.  I'd say that we all ended up on okay terms with him and left the community practically unscathed, save that initial incident of his having conned one of ours.

---

Now fast forward to a couple of weeks ago.  Billy had been working in a nearby nightclub, I think it was, when someone came to seek vengeance upon another.  Billy, however, got caught in the crossfire and was shot, succumbing to the injuries shortly thereafter.  The guy for whom the shots were intended was fine.  The whole thing was deemed accidental and the shooter went to jail....for four days, at which point, he paid the authorities some money and was set free.

When I first heard the news, I felt sorry for Billy.  It wasn't fair, no one should die that way -- let alone accidentally -- and though he wasn't the poster child for a good Samaritan, he didn't deserve what happened.  But then I think about the way he acted and the air of sketchiness that surrounded him wherever he went, and in a way, it's kind of like when he was at the hospital and I actually felt relieved to know where he was, even if only because it *wasn't* in the community.  When I try to apply the same logic here, though, I feel kind of guilty, because I would never wish anyone dead.  And while I am truly sorry that that was his fate, in a way there is a sense of security (both physically and mentally) that (at least, in my opinion) has been restored to the community.  Should I feel guilty?  Is it wrong to feel at least a little relief?  What do you think?

From what I could tell, the community didn't seem too fazed by what happened.  My guess is that the reason why not is that it's not entirely uncommon.  El Salvador is ridden with gangs and corruption.  Their largest source of income comes from remittances -- that is, money that friends and family send back from the U.S.  There is no reliable system in place akin to checks and balances that actually endorses prudent business practices and, well, ethics.  And though it is sad to report on Billy's tragic passing, perhaps it is even more disheartening to know that that was just another day in a country not so very far away.

Giving thanks for the gift and re-gift of thinking

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, it is time to give thanks for something in a less traditional manner than other people might.  I realize the holiday is about appreciating what you have and showing gratitude, but I don't believe I've ever heard of it being associated with taking action to pay that gratitude forward.

I know someone who used to work with USAID maybe 30-40 years ago and spent a chunk of time in Ethiopia.  When he was there, he saw such a dire need for help that he told the people there that he wanted to stay.  They told him no, that they didn't want him to stay.  "Why not?"  Well, because they said he would be able to do more to help their cause from the U.S. than he could by staying there with them.

Now, it's my turn to do my part.  There are organizations that ask for money and infomercials that shamelessly plug their causes, but the most important element that goes largely unpublicized is that of awareness.  Someone can very easily write a check and never really know what it's going toward or whom it will help.  Awareness of the surrounding issues, however, ends up becoming a currency of its own, one that is much more powerful and far-reaching than the value of a dollar (or its equivalent).  You might be thinking, "Well, awareness doesn't exactly put food on the table, now does it?" And, technically, I guess no, it doesn't directly do that.  However, consider a poor village where food is not plentiful.  An informercial advertises, "Send $20 to our organization and you can feed a family."  Truth be told, the money would, indeed, help.  But after those $20 are spent, then what?  What's the family to do?  What awareness would do, on the other hand, would be to teach the family how to survive past those $20.  You know, in a "You give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; you teach a man to fish, you feed him for a lifetime" kind of way.

I can assert with confidence that the people in these communities do not have fewer resources for lack of trying.  In fact, they work harder on a day-to-day basis than many people do in high-paying jobs in the U.S.  The difference isn't even necessarily a "poor" vs. "rich" mentality.  While some people may have fewer material resources, that does not automatically translate to poverty.  Especially in what many people might consider to be "poor communities," there exists a certain richness that comes out of such simplicity, of not having all of the material wealth that often clouds people's ideas of what is important in life.

What these people do lack, though, is awareness.  Living in an isolated community does not suggest a lower quality of life but it does make it more difficult to have access to information, services, and more.  For example, in a village in El Salvador, it is unusual for people to continue past 9th grade, if they make it even that far.  (One reason is that it becomes expensive, having to take the bus to school, which would cost $0.50 round trip.)  Kids also have to go to work to help support the family.  In my host family there, the father works at a milpa and has done so all his life.  He has never attended school and, thus, is unable to read or write.  He has four children and one of them dropped out of school a few years ago because it just wasn't for him.  That child, who must be 11 or so, now spends his time going to work with his dad, a machete being his tool of choice (not uncommon).  When I found out that he wasn't in school and wasn't planning to go back, my instinct told me to try to convince him otherwise.  Something stopped me, though, and upon further reflection, I decided that I couldn't justifiably persuade him to do it.  His attendance at school wouldn't earn the family any money, he wouldn't push himself in academics, and really, he wouldn't be working toward a tangible goal.  Even if he did finish school, what job prospects would there be?  The answer is few, if any.  And so, working at the milpa becomes the obvious default, and attending school would actually be a time waster in this case.  After all, when it comes to providing for the family, knowing about the process of metamorphosis or how to do geometry doesn't really rake in a day's wages (which would, at best, total around $5 for a full-day's work).


In this community, a trash service comes once a year.  The nearest post office is in a town 20 minutes away.  The local river (used for swimming and for laundering clothes) is connected to the septic system.  Despite these inevitable frustrations, though, the community is making progress.  Nearly one year ago, a bunch of us (in a study-abroad program) brought the community three computers and Internet, replete with online encyclopedias and learning games.  Besides the actual information contained in those programs, what we gave them was the gift of access.  Access to education, access to knowledge, and access to the rest of the world, whose exchanges and experiences would open the doors to a whole new realm of thinking.  Most importantly, this technology would give them the power to make decisions based on what they want and need (higher-level thinking), as opposed to not even knowing there were alternatives to their age-old processes.  In other words, we gave them the power to think for themselves and to be able to broaden their own horizons (and that of others), an asset that is truly priceless (more so than those Mastercard commercials).

I Skyped with the community today and, in doing so, I learned that the kids are on vacation now, as their school year runs from January-November.  That means that the kids have found out if they were promoted to the next grade or if they were held back.  It makes me happy to know that the two girls whose education I sponsor were both promoted.  Looks like next year, I'm gonna have an 8th grader and a 3rd grader on my hands!  But just knowing that every day they are expanding their minds and accumulating experiences in all aspects of life (both inside and outside the classroom) is rewarding...and honestly, the gift of thinking goes much farther than that $20 check.

Happy Thanksgiving to all -- may you all realize how lucky you are to have whatever you have and to be able to know how to appreciate it.  Here's to hoping that you take your gift of thinking and re-gift it.

And in my spare time, I try to save the world

I used to want to save the world.  We're not talking small-scale stuff, like doing a mitzvah a day and holding the door for someone.  We're talking Mother Theresa (born Agnesë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu -- who knew?) with a lot more pizazz and a lot fewer wrinkles.  A few years ago, there was a benefit concert called Live8 that took place in various cities around the world (London, Paris, Berlin, Rome (I was there!), Philadelphia, Barrie, Chiba, Johannesburg, Moscow, Cornwall and Edinburgh) and was organized by Bob Geldof and Bono.  It inspired me to want to have *that* kind of effect on the world, to work to promote the resolution of worldwide issues at the most grassroots level possible.  To work with people like Bono (ok, not just people like Bono, but also (and especially) Bono himself) to use their celebrity to do good..and to do it well.  I remember job-searching for fun and productive non-profit jobs involving human rights issues -- basically, looking for someone to pay me to do community service...not because I wouldn't do it for free (because I would), but because I need to earn money to be able to afford life's expenses and such, and if my full-time job wouldn't pay me anything, I wouldn't be able to take on the assignment.  Kind of strange how that works, really.  I would devote so much of my time to these causes in exchange for the luxury of not needing to find another job merely for the sake of paying bills, but yet because that's not realistic, I can't afford to spend several hours a day fixing the world's problems.  I wonder how many other people out there have found themselves in the same predicament.  At the very least, maybe people in those jobs end up with a few free highlighters and other office supplies, but are those cool neon colors and heavy-duty staples really worth billions of people not having clean water? Or millions of people suffering from the AIDS epidemic?  Or 80% of humanity living on less than $10 a day?  Just think, two (maybe three) Starbucks mocha-nocha-whatever-ccino drinks cost more than 80% of the world population's daily standard of living.  There's a doozy for you.  Of course there are organizations dedicated to eradicating poverty from the planet (like One or the World Bank) and to securing clean water for everyone (like Water.org), but let's face it -- there's an organization for everything these days.

I thought that in my quest to "help people," I had to work at a project that already had its foot (feet?) in the door, one that was far-reaching and able to distribute their resources evenly among those who needed them most.  But then, if all of that existed, then wouldn't it be a much easier goal to achieve, since it's basically a ready-made recipe for world peace?

In researching what kinds of jobs might be for me, I (briefly) entertained the idea of law school.  After all, don't those public defender people get to help people *and* get paid for it at the same time?  After 19 months (but who counted?) of experience working at a law firm, it turned out the part I liked best was the pro bono work -- in other words, the work the firm did for free.  Well, shucks.  Back to Square One, then, since law school apparently wasn't in the cards.  I saw more paperwork going back-and-forth than actual results showing the fruits of our (long-houred) labor.  And since perhaps saving the world might include an effort or two to go green, then probably throwing out thousands (and millions, etc.) of papers that were stapled horizontally instead of vertically would not be the answer.

Upon further reflection, I have come to believe that the answer to the world's problems (pay special attention and then tell everyone you know, and even those you don't) is the following: communication.  A novel idea!  Oh, and also collaboration.  I don't think we need any single organization to achieve that goal; rather, a little effort from a lot of people would probably do the trick.  What do we (as a collective world) have to lose in trying, anyway?

There are several films that promote selflessness and living in the moment.  The two films that stick out in my mind are "Pay It Forward" and "The Bucket List."  Now, I don't necessarily think that these films are Oscar-worthy or anything like that, but the messages contained in them were (and are) definitely worth

perpetuating.  The concept of "paying it forward" is one that promotes the idea of doing good unto others as a means of showing gratitude for the good done unto you.  Take a minute to think how random occurrences in your life have had a significant impact on you at a later moment, by no calculated planning of your own.  Now take a minute to think about how if everyone transferred that idea to other people (even complete strangers), how many people would then end

up being the recipients of said significant impacts?  It would start a (hopefully never-ending) cycle of human kindness, of human understanding.  And, maybe in a karmic six-degrees kind of way, that benevolence would ultimately come back to you, though the point of doing it in the first place would not be for oneself (if it were, then karma would get you anyway).

While I truly believe that everyone is capable of making a difference, I think the collective effort would be infinitely more successful than individual strides.  Philosophically speaking, it's all about synergy, the idea that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.  With that said, I invite all of you to join me in paying it forward and seeing if we can help preserve and advance humankind.  Neil Armstrong might say that that would be one small step for man, but if he were to work with billions of others, then I think billions of steps might pave the way to more than just one giant leap for mankind.  So, in the words of Jerry Maguire, who's coming with me?

Majority...rules?

When you walk into Chipotle or another fast-food restaurant, it is not uncommon for the person behind the counter or cleaning up after you to be of Latino descent.  When you pass a landscaping truck, it is not uncommon for the people crammed into the car to be of Latino descent.  In encountering people of Latino descent in everyday settings, I've noticed that in "our" (and I use that to mean the collective "our," as opposed to the non-Latino "our") society, Latinos are automatically perceived as non-English-speaking people who are no more capable than the jobs they have.  They may have a university degree from their home country and not be able to find a comparable job in the U.S.; they may have a family to support and believe that the U.S. will provide them the greatest opportunity to do so, regardless of the job they find.  While I could write and write and write about the perspectives that U.S. Americans have of (and display toward) Latinos, that is not the focus of this post.

What I'd like to focus on instead is on the concept of minority.  For years, Latinos have been thought of as the minority in the U.S.  The Latino population is rising so quickly that soon, they will not constitute the minority.  The concept of minority/majority, however, doesn't refer solely to the numbers of people comprising a certain population (for instance, more people must equal "majority" and fewer people must equal "minority").  That terminology suggests a certain kind of perspective, the idea of thinking of a "we" and a "them" no matter which group you are talking about.  While people will always identify with different groups -- and even possess membership in multiple ones -- there needs to be more of an effort to bridge the groups perceived as the "minority" (thus implying a "less than," or group that is deficient in something) and "majority" (suggesting a "more than," or group that possesses superiority).  In the case of politics, it comes down to numbers: who has more/fewer votes and other such examples.  I have no problem with the terminology in that environment.  When it comes to people, though, I'm not a big fan.

In traveling abroad, I have often felt like a foreigner -- like a member of the minority, not just because I was in a different place geographically, but because the environment was new and different from my own.  In traveling so far away, though, I come to expect it before each trip (and look forward to overcoming it).  I didn't expect, however, that when I drove 5 miles away from home last weekend to go to my soccer game, I would be the only gringa around.

Immediately upon entering the Sportsplex, I noticed that there was a different ambience from the one I often experience during the week.  During the week, the Sportsplex plays host to everyone who participates in the adult soccer league, representing a slew of ethnicities, native languages, etc.  While many of the people who participate in those leagues are, in fact, Latino, last weekend I experienced something entirely new in being the sole gringa.  I noticed that rather than play into a suggested inferiority complex to those born in the U.S. (something that might happen to Latinos regularly in the "real world"), there was nothing but fútbol on everyone's minds.  The Latinos were the experts -- the majority -- and no one could take that away from them.  It was I who received the looks that seemed to say, "¿Qué haces aquí?" ("What are you doing here?").  My unspoken response, however, was just the same as theirs: our purpose for being there was nothing more than the love of the game.  Just playing fútbol. It makes me wonder why the ethnic group which I must call my own doesn't give Latinos the same chance as they gave me.  They accepted me into their fútbol game without question; why can't other people in our shared society give them the same opportunity to prove themselves?

People always make fun of the Mexican gardener, fast-food worker, construction worker, maid, etc. (regardless of whether or not the person is actually Mexican), but what right do we (who is that "we," anyway?) have to play God and decide who is better than whom?

Of course, no one is exempt from holding stereotypes.  When I was standing with my (Latino) friends at the Sunday soccer game, (Latino) friends of theirs came up to say hello and see what was happening.  After a brief conversation in Spanish, they turned to me and introduced themselves in English.  I responded, "¿Qué?  ¿Tengo la cara de alguien que no habla español?" ("What?  Do I have the face of someone who doesn't speak Spanish?")  With those few words, all of a sudden I went from being on the outside -- as a member of the minority -- to being on the inside, one of the gang, even though I apparently had gringa written all over my face.  People spend a lifetime building up and perpetuating stereotypes, but it takes only a few moments to invalidate them.

It's funny how the dynamic inside the Sportsplex is completely the opposite of the way it is outside, at least from the way I see it.  In a society that is dominated by the "majority-White" mentality (whether or not the majority is actually White), how can people just go through their daily routines as if we all belong to an unacknowledged caste system and not try to equalize the playing field?

And now back to your (not so) regularly scheduled program...

Hello again, dear readers,
It has effectively been a year and a half since my last post and I'm toying with the idea of starting up with this whole blogging thing again. I have been thinking about it for maybe a year or so, but every time I write down "blog" on my to-do list, it always seems to end up getting trumped by something else. The thing is, inspiration strikes me more often than the opportunity to travel arises, so maintaining a blog in real-life will be a new - and challenging - experience for me. In the past, I have blogged solely during my travels -- it served not only as a way to keep in touch with friends and family but also as an easy way to share my experiences and invite further commentary on my ruminations.

I remember one time, in an Italian literature class I took in college, I read that the concept of an autobiography is doomed from the start. It was while we were reading Italo Calvino's La coscienza di Zeno, a story of a man named Zeno who writes his autobiography as an exercise given to him by his psychotherapist to help with his treatment. Near the end of the story (no spoilers ahead), Zeno identifies an intrinsic problem with the literary genre of "autobiography." He explains that in the time it takes someone to catch someone up to the 'present-day,' there is an interval of time that has elapsed between the present-day of the autobiography and the present-day of reality. Thus, no one is ever truly capable of writing an autobiography that contains any part of the present, since the present is forever changing, and the literary present will never catch up to that of real time. For some reason, this notion has always stuck with me.

Whenever I wrote a blog during my travels, I always felt "caught up" as I left the internet cafe, almost as if it were time to go create more experiences that would undoubtedly make their way into future posts. In writing those posts, however, anything that may have occurred during those hours in the internet cafe got shelved since, essentially, there could always be someone or something to write about and, at some point, you just have to decide what makes the cut. Otherwise, people would never *stop* writing, but then again, they might have very little to write about if they lack the time to actually live. It's a strange, roundabout logic, really. I even think that sometimes I made more of an effort to "do stuff" since I knew I would be writing about it, and I didn't want to have "nothing good" to write about, because, well, that's just boring...and I don't want to be boring (does anyone?).

For now, the important part to me is recognizing that every time I published a post in the past, I felt caught up (both with updating my readers and with sorting out recent encounters or experiences). I also looked forward to seeing the commentaries and insights shared by my readers. In that vein, I hope to elicit more commentaries and more perspectives this time around (which may or may not be "a time," but, rather, the new beginning of my blogger self).

Anyway, I hope all of you readers feel strongly enough about something I write here to share your own thoughts. I use this forum not as a diary, but as a place where I can give shape to my observations/experiences/etc. with the hope that they then inspire others to do the same. I make no guarantees about how frequently I will post, but since observations and experiences (and especially "et cetera") come in many shapes and sizes, that kind of keeps it interesting. I promise I will never post just for the sake of posting; what's the point of that?

So, I think I'm gonna give it a go, see where it takes me. After all, you never know if you don't try.