The City in the Sky

last night i had a dream that i was in the mountains at a spiritual school of some sort. there were monks teaching kids staring into bowls, the whole place was high up in the mountains with only the peaks poking through the clouds floating in the valley. i was passing through an open hallway and noticed that one mountain across the fog had a giant sculpture carved into it, of a man and a woman or of some gesture of love and protection.

wow, that's cool, i thought, i never noticed that before, and as i reached for my camera i remembered that it had been stolen and then i thought, dang! 

in the dream i had been coming to this place on an airplane and had gotten up to go to the bathroom and when i came back to my seat, a necklace i left there was gone. i thought it was the monk next to me but said nothing. then later, i was in the classroom of another monk- talking after class, when that same young monk came to ask a question. as he was leaving, the older teacher asked him to give back the things he had stolen from the classroom in the short time he was there- so the young monk started pulling stuff out of his pockets- an apple, keys, a pencil, and he tossed them back to the professor. apparently he was a klepto- monk and this was a regular occurance. 

the older monk remained dispassionate about it and only put the stuff back on his desk, but i, realizing that this must be the guy who had stolen all my stuff in mexico, ran and jumped on him and we tumbled down some stairs and around the corner and then i was really beating the crap out of him- crying and yelling at him in a rage that he had taken things from me that were given to me by my family and by my deceased father, my deceased abuela! as i said 'dead father' there was a short pause while i realized that there might not be very much relation between the necklaces my father had given me (and which were actually stolen in mexico) and my father and the memories that i have of him. but i still wanted to make the monk feel bad, really really bad, for taking them so i yelled, 'you took the camera which held photos of people i care about!' and he was still smiling, almost laughing- oh really? and we both knew- what do those photos have to do with your friends? 

it also occurred to me that it was kind of hypocritical- here i was really beating this guy up- in a moral rage over the wrong he had done. to me. that's the kicker, isn't it?

still, i just wanted to make him hurt like i had hurt, and he was only laughing- so i clocked him one right in the head and then it disappeared and i was shocked but i saw he had only bent his neck back and his head was still there. he brought it back, smiling, and i was looking at him still filled with rage, and then i woke up.

at first i thought, how awful to have a dream like that and wake up feeling like this- engulfed in all the rage i have for the thieves. but now, as the day has moved on i see what the dream was telling me. what i am telling myself over and over about why i hate the thieves and why they deserve to suffer- might not even be true. i could tell when i yelled at the monk that my reasons didn't feel true in my own heart- that i didn't believe them. 

it was a really really sucky experience, losing these things that were very precious to me- gifts from friends and family, and man, i am very sorry to have lost them, but in a way, having this lesson, that things are not human experience and love, is more valuable. 

basically, you can't take any object here with you when you go, and the things that might seem to represent those who have gone to us still here, actually don't - you cant keep them here on earth.

USA!

well , now that i've been hangin stateside for a little while, i don't know what to say. i'm... staying regular? which is alot more than i can say about some of the more white bread/rice consuming countries of the world- y'all know who you are.

but i want to keep on writing in this thing because it's my favorite thing to do on the net- well, besides look for cheap ipods on craigslist, which is really becoming a chore. 

i know- did y'all see the presidential debate last night? i listened to it on the radio but i heard they had them sitting right next to each other. what sicko did that to them? it was probably that bob schieffer. sittin all smug from his chair on high- takin' bets and wavin' bills- watchin' the alpha dogs fight and bristle.

i'm glad i didnt see that one on tv. the one i caught the other night was embarrassing enough. abby and i were talking about it last night- how we cringe for both of them, when obama's stuttering "i, uh, uh" and mcain is slurring his words and repeating "my friends" over and over again.  

we were both pretty wasted by then because we were playing the drinking game where you have to drink every time they do those things. just kidding. but i heard about that from facebook. what a joy!

after that i was reading my book, "cuban palimpsests," by jose quiroga,  about (mostly) the "special period in times of peace"- the period in the 90's after the soviet union, which was heavily subsidizing the country, collapsed and many hardships were felt by the people, including a constant hunger, and the government was forced to let up some on some of its more oppressive policies and also to open the country a bit more to tourists, which brought its own money and problems. it was a big deal. 

for those of you who don't know what a palimpsest is (and who does?), my fav definition is from the american heritage dictionary: 

'A manuscript, typically of papyrus or parchment, that has been written on more than once, with the earlier writing incompletely erased and often legible.'

it refers to the past- present mash-up that is cuba and her exiled communities at any given time. also, there was a shortage of paper during this time so maybe there was some real palimpsestin' goin on, too- i don't know, i'm not that far into the book.

one of the points i was reading after the debate last night was that politics is so tied to the people there, because of the collective political experience, because of the constant propaganda beaming at all, 'venceremos!'. in communism you can't just sit back and do your own thing.

sure, i might have my own cringe- inducing emotional reactions to watching a presidential debate, but i am also able to disassociate myself from the whole process and look and laugh from some kind of safe apathetic ground, where i can look around and see all my friends and we're all there and it's comfortable. and if it's not exactly comfortable, at least i cant feel anything. but lets not go all harold on everybody here, folks. not that cuba is some sweet maude gonna make us oatstraw tea, but. 

Anyways, must go for now- ta ta!

Haiku

i got robbed
in mexico
and now i came home





Dude!

let me tell you about it. so, after a week or so at the sweet beach paradise the lady i was working for went a little crazy and i was looking for another place. i had gotten little hints like 'oh, that bitch is crazy, don't work for her' but nothing like a clear message:) and she seemed real sweet. and that carribbean blue water...
so i had to set out to find a new place to rent. and i found it a short while later at this nice older woman from austin, lin's place. she was renting a cute cabana- style house right on the beach and wanted to share the expenses. it seemed like a great option to just chill for a while and think about my next step- if i wanted to stay til the high season to make some cash. maybe i could pick up an instrument. the accordian. yeah.
but the very night i arrived at my chill new home...drumroll...i got robbed. theives broke in in the middle of the night when we were both asleep. lin woke me up early saying i think we were robbed. they had gone thru all of our stuff- taken the rent money, camera :(, all my adorning jewelry which wasn't worth anything to sell but alot to me. and more stuff, those f**kers.
after that. i started to fell mistrustful and vulnerable. i had a bad look in my eye.
let me tell you about the unlikely, unholy trinity of mexican law: taxi drivers, cops and drug dealers.
first, you have the taxistas. they are the taxi drivers which bank and make bank on the fact that the public transportation system there is a few buses short of non- existant. and the people of mexico are, hello, poor and without transportation so they spend all their money on expensive taxis. to be a taxi driver in mx- or at least where i was, it seemed like a prerequisite to be a gross and thuggy man. you really do have to be in the taxi drivers union, which seems like a mafia, and that's what people understand them to be. when i first got to tulum i had the idea of getting an old bus and just running it all day from the town, where the people live, to the the touristy beach about 4 miles away, where they work, so they wouldn't have to spend 5 bucks each way in a cab but everyone said don't even try it- you don't wanna go up against the taxistas.
next, it's the cops. like a uruguayan friend there said, "sure, i don't like the cops anywhere, but here- uhhhh(shudder)." more gross thug guys lookin ya up and down. in fact, people say dont even call the police if it is nighttime and you are getting robbed or something, cause whatever they bring is worse. and the corruption is so much. i can think of businesses that budget 5-10 thousand dollars per year on bribes to police and political figures.
lastly, the grossest thugs of them all- the drug lords. did you know that a majority of the cocaine from south america passes right by or through the yucatan? i heard so many stories of kilos and kilos washing up on shore or fishermen striking it rich with the-what did they call it- white fish or something like that. i think the drug people are the scariest and of course they are running the show. they take what they want and don't mind killing.
it really sucks for the mexican people to have to live with all these turds in power. as lin said- it's paradise with a twist.
so, i decided to come back to austin for a month or so. it's not what i had in the plans, but shit happens.
things i am looking forward to: staying with my friend abby who rocks, austin thrift stores( thank god! i just about died with no cute used clothes in latin america- i don't know how they stand it), seeing atx friends and family, going to community yoga, and oh yeah, figuring out what i'm gonna do with my life.
any ideas? i'll keep you posted. jeje(that's haha in spanish).