A busy week / Una semana concurrida

Para la versión en español, véase la parte inferior de la página.

This has been a very busy week, made busier by the fact that the week has been compressed into four days, since Friday 1 May is a statutory holiday here (Labor Day).

Monday I finally had the follow-up exam that became necessary because my sister went and spoke to a psychic (and I wasn't even the motive for seeing the psychic). I find it truly ironic that I have to make medical appointments based on some mumbo jumbo, but better safe than sorry. It never hurts to get the plumbing checked out. So we'll keep an eye on things at this end.

Tuesday I went to a funeral for the father of one of Matt's schoolmates. He had gotten sick and died very suddenly. This was a big shock. Luis Alejandro had been in Matt's class since kindergarten and his mother Cecilia is a charming and affable woman. I feel very badly for her. I found the funeral draining.

I had book club on Tuesday night. The book was Engleby by Sebastian Faulks, a delightfully creepy portrait of a mildly psychotic killer. Had to laugh at one friend's comment, "I am only about 1/4 way through Engleby, but for what it's worth, I'm enjoying it. In some strange way, part of my university experience was similar, though with a completely different cultural backdrop." So she identifies with the psychotic murderer… now there's a disturbing thought! Actually I suppose she meant that she recognized people who were similar; my question remains: Are they still at large? My own review of the book will have to wait until next week.

In terms of work I have done a series of translations for the ILO that examine how the ILO Convention (No. 169) concerning Indigenous and Tribal Peoples in Independent Countries has been used in conjunction with the domestic legislation and constitutions of different Latin American countries to resolve indigenous land claims. The translations were all analyses of the use and suitability of the different legal instruments; very detailed and technical.

Now I have today and tomorrow to translate the Third Alternative Report by Civil Society to the Committee on Economic and Cultural Rights which will be presented to the UN Committee on Economic and Cultural Rights, part of the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights. I have to translate over 8,000 words in two days, which is a lot, but this is a cakewalk compared to the other assignment.

Then I am free, free, free this weekend and I have good plans!

Una semana concurrida

Esta ha sido una semana de mucho trajín, hecha más concurrida por el hecho de que la semana está comprimida en cuatro días, porque el viernes 1 de mayo es festivo aquí (Día del Trabajo).

Lunes finalmente tuve el examen de seguimiento que se hizo necesario porque mi hermana consultó una bruja (y ni siquiera yo era el motivo de la consulta). Me parece realmente chistoso que tengo que hacer citas médicas en base a la magia, pero mejor prevenir que curar. Una revisión de la plomería nunca sobra. Así que voy estar pendiente de las cosas en este sentido.

El martes fui al funeral del padre de uno de los compañeros de colegio de Mateo. Se enfermó y murió muy de repente. Fue un gran golpe. Luis Alejandro estuvo en el curso de Mateo desde el kinder and su madre Cecilia es una mujer encantadora y afable. Me siento muy mal por ella. Sentí el funeral bastante agotador.

Tuve reunión de club de lectura por la noche. El libro fue Engleby por Sebastian Faulks, un retrato deliciosamente escalofriante de un asesino psicótico. Tuve que reírme del comentario de una amiga, "Yo sólo he terminado la cuarta parte del libro Engleby, pero por lo que vale, le estoy disfrutando. De cierta manera, parte de mi experiencia universitaria fue similar, aunque con referentes culturales completamente diferentes." Así que ella identifica con el asesino psicótico ... es una idea preocupante! En realidad, supongo que significa que reconoce a personas quienes fueron similares, pero mi pregunta sigue siendo: ¿Están todavía en libertad? Mi reseña del libro tendrá que esperar hasta la próxima semana.

En términos del trabajo, hice una serie de traducciones para la OIT que examina la forma como el Convenio No, 169 de la OIT sobre pueblos indígenas y tribales en países independientes se ha utilizado en combinación con la legislación nacional y las constituciones de los diferentes países de América Latina para resolver las reivindicaciones de tierras indígenas. Las traducciones fueron todos de análisis del uso y la idoneidad de los diferentes instrumentos jurídicos, muy detalladas y técnicas.
Ahora tengo hoy y mañana para traducir el Tercer Informe Alternativo de la Sociedad Civil al Comité de Derechos Económicos y Culturales que será presentado al Comité de Derechos Económicos y Culturales de la ONU, parte de la Oficina del Alto Comisionado para los Derechos Humanos. Tengo que traducir más de 8000 palabras en dos días, que es mucho, pero ésta es un paseo en comparación con las otras traducciones.

Y después estoy libre, libre, libre este fin de semana y tengo buenos planes!

p.s./p.d.

I am increasingly worried about swine flu. / Estoy cada vez más preocupada por la influenza porcina.

The Healing Power of Salt / El poder curativo de la sal

Para la versión en español, véase la parte inferior de la página.

My fleur de sel ran out the other day. I used the fleur de sel sparingly. It came from Guérande, on the coast of Brittany. Fleur de sel is the top layer of the purist salt, harvested from the local salt marshes. It is prized by cooks and connoisseurs. I used it only on salads, condimented simply with olive oil and salt.

But like all good things the package finally ran out. Local salt producer Refisal is producing a premium line of salt crystals. Refisal is mainly a rock salt producer but they also have a plant on the Atlantic coast, so maybe it is sea salt. I'll have to try their new line, but I am sure that it will not be the same.

My fleur de sel was more than just a condiment, it was a moment in my life. It was tears and comfort, and the healing power of salt.

Small wounds can be treated with sweet, some chocolate or ice cream will usually do the trick. Serious wounds need to be treated with salt. The body and the soul need to be renourished, replenished, and made whole again.

My friend Gaby gave me the comfort and the salt. Every time I used the salt it reminded me that there are people are I can turn to when I need a helping hand. Gaby helped me; a lot of people helped me through that rough time. They are my salt.

El poder curativo de la sal

Mi flor de sal se acabó el otro día. Utilicé la flor de sal con moderación. Venía de Guérande, en la costa de Bretaña. Flor de sal es la capa superior de la sal más pura, extraído de las marismas locales de aguas saladas. Es apreciada por los chefs y conocedores. La utilicé únicamente en las ensaladas, condimentadas sencillamente con aceite de oliva y sal.

Pero como toda cosa buena, el paquete finalmente se agotó. Productor local de sal Refisal está produciendo una línea nueva de cristales de sal gourmet. Refisal es principalmente un productor de sal de roca, pero también tiene una planta en la costa atlántica, por lo que quizá es sal marina. Tendré que probar la nueva línea, pero estoy segura de que no será la misma.

Mi flor de sal era más que un condimento, era un momento en mi vida. Era lágrimas y consuelo, y el poder curativo de la sal.

Pequeñas heridas se pueden tratar con dulce, basta con un poco de chocolate o helado. Heridas graves deben ser tratadas con sal. El cuerpo y el alma necesitan ser nutridos, repuestos, y devueltos a su integridad.

Mi amiga Gaby me dio consuelo y sal. Cada vez que utilizaba la sal me acordé que existen personas a quienes puedo recorrer cuando necesito una mano. Gaby me ayudó; muchas personas me ayudaron en ese momento difícil. Ellos son mi sal.

I love my work / Adoro mi trabajo

Para la versión en español, véase la parte inferior de la página.

I translate. I love my work.

My main, stable, job is a contract with a press agency. I do a running summary of the evening newscast. I'd probably watch the news anyway. I love being paid for something that I want to do. Plus I know that my work is taken into account by people who make decisions on international policy. I watch and listen attentively, and then transcribe.

As well I do freelance work. I've spent all of my working life in the NGO community, and so that is where most of my translation clients are: Human rights and international humanitarian law, child rights, gender perspective, community development, indigenous land rights, evaluations of government performance, security issues, demobilization, truth and justice, peace negotiations, corporate social responsibility. These are the fields with which I work. I am part of the process of giving a voice to things that need to be said and gradually effecting change.

I love translating. I love writing. I love being up-to-date on the latest news.

I didn't expect to become a translator. I have an undergraduate degree in English literature and a master's degree in library and information studies.

The English degree was probably instrumental in making me a good writer. Plus I have my book club that I adore, so literary analysis is a skill I still use. The MLIS is kind of a joke. I always thought it was a pretty bogus degree in the first place, but necessary if you want to work as a reference librarian. I did that for a while, and I loved that too. I loved the challenge of being asked to help research random questions. Plus that degree is the reason I live here now, since I came here through a Canadian Government technical cooperation program (CUSO). Right now just having the degree is useful in the sense that it qualifies me to teach at the university level. If I were to teach anything it would be English literature. I have no desire to work in any sort of library here. Interestingly, I have done a few library translations over the past year: for the Virgilio Barco Library, the new Julio Mario Santodomingo Library and Cultural Center, and for the National Library. The clients were not aware that I am a librarian when they called me for the translation.

I love working independently and being free to make my own hours. I try to make time to get to the gym in the morning. It makes a difference in terms of my wellbeing. Monday I had my hair done and a mani/pedi. I was chatting with the brother-in-law of one of the women who works at the salon. He lives in New Jersey and was down here visiting. We were talking about work. He told me that he had loved his job in sales at Revlon, until the management changed, and overnight he went from loving his job to hating it. He said that he walked away from a six-figure salary. Now he is working in fuels and likes it. Good for him. Doing a job that you don't like must be a daily torture; better to walk away.

Traduzco. Me encanta mi trabajo.

Mi trabajo principal, estable, es un contrato con una agencia de prensa. Hago un resumen del noticiero de la noche. Probablemente miraría las noticias de todos modos. Me encanta que me pagan por algo que quiero hacer. Además sé que mi trabajo es tomado en cuenta por personas quienes toman decisiones de política internacional. Veo y escucho con atención y transcribo.

También trabajo como independiente. He pasado toda mi vida laboral en la comunidad de las ONGs, entonces esa es la procedencia de la mayor parte de mis clientes de traducción: Los derechos humanos y derecho internacional humanitario, los derechos del niño, perspectiva de género, desarrollo comunitario, los derechos sobre tierras indígenas, evaluaciones del desempeño del gobierno, la problemática de la seguridad, las desmovilizaciones, la verdad y la justicia, las negociaciones de paz, la responsabilidad social corporativa. Estos son los campos con los que trabajo. Soy parte del proceso de dar voz a las cosas que hay que decir, para poco a poco dar lugar al cambio.

Me encanta la traducción. Me encanta escribir. Me gusta estar al día sobre las últimas noticias.

No esperaba convertirme en traductora. Soy licenciada en literatura inglés y tengo una maestría en estudios de bibliotecas e información.

Los estudios en inglés probablemente me hizo buen escritor. Además tengo mi club de lectura que adoro, por lo que el análisis literario es una habilidad que todavía conservo. La maestría en bibliotecología no es un título serio. Yo siempre pensé que era algo chimba, pero necesaria si uno quiere trabajar como bibliotecóloga de referencia. Hice este trabajo por un tiempo, y me encantó también. Me encantó el desafío de ayudar en la investigación de preguntas aleatorias. Es más, este título es la razón por la cual ahora vivo aquí, porque llegué a través de un programa de cooperación técnica del gobierno canadiense (CUSO). Ahora siento que tener el título es útil en el sentido de que me califica para enseñar al nivel universitario. Si yo fuera a enseñar sería literatura inglés. No tengo ningún deseo de trabajar en bibliotecas aquí. Curiosamente, he hecho algunas traducciones para bibliotecas durante el último año: para la Biblioteca Virgilio Barco, la nueva Biblioteca y Centro Cultural Julio Mario Santodomingo, y la Biblioteca Nacional. Los clientes no sabían que yo soy bibliotecóloga cuando me llamaron para la traducción.

Me encanta trabajar independiente y estar libre de hacer mis propias horas. Trato de ir al gimnasio un rato por la mañana. Esta marca una diferencia en términos de mi bienestar. El lunes fui al peluquero para arreglarme el cabello y un manicure/pedicure. Estuve conversando con el cuñado de una de las mujeres quienes trabajan en la peluquería. Vive en Nueva Jersey y estuvo aquí de visita. Hablamos de trabajo. Me dijo que le encantaba su puesto de trabajo de ventas en Revlon, hasta que la administración cambió, y de la noche a la mañana se fue de adorar a odiar su trabajo. Dijo que abandonó un puesto que pagaba un salario de seis cifras. Ahora está trabajando con combustibles y le gusta. Me parece muy bien. Hacer un trabajo que uno no le gusta debe ser una tortura diaria; mejor irse.

Their Eyes Were Watching God

Their Eyes Were Watching God
By Zora Neale Hurston

Author Zora Neale Hurston was a renowned folklorist, as well as an author, and this background shows in her richly detailed novel that chronicles Janie Starks' life and her dissatisfaction with the role that she is expected to play as a black woman in society, from the time of her birth in approximately 1877. An eminently feminist novel, Janie wants the world to move her, and she is not content to conform to the role that her grandmother and her first two husbands would have her assume. Because of her beauty, particularly her long straight hair, she quickly achieves material comfort, but her spirit remains restless.

Her first two husbands fail to recognize her human qualities. It is not until she meets Tea Cake that she finds a man who appreciates her ostensibly as an equal. The book's portrayal of violence against women is not shocking for its graphic qualities, but rather for the fact that it is acknowledged and accepted that a man will beat his wife and that doing so is a token of his ownership. When Mrs. Turner lets it be known that she would like to see her brother paired up with Janie, Tea Cake beats Janie "tuh show dem Turners who is boss." We don't hear how Janie feels about the beating, but we are told that "It aroused a sort of envy in both men and women. The way he petted and pampered her as if those two or three face slaps had nearly killed her made the women see visions and the helpless way she hung on him made men dream dreams." We are also told that those "two or three face slaps made it possible for "uh person can see every place you hit her." He first two husbands are brutal and repressive, and their violence is not surprising. So it rankles to see that unjustified violence is also legitimized in the hands of Tea Cake, the "ideal man."

Set in different black communities in southern Florida, the dialect and pronunciation of the local black people is reproduced with great precision, making the text somewhat difficult to read for those who are not familiar with these speech patterns. This is not deficiency in the text but rather a caveat to the reader that the language and telling are challenging. I found that it was sometimes necessary to read the dialogue out loud in order to apprehend its meaning, which I note was a possibly intentional nod on the part of the author, to the black oral storytelling traditions.

Aside from the violence, there are a few other points in the story with which I could not reconcile myself: Janie apparently has no qualms with the fact that Tea Cake steals her $200, spends it having a party, and then informs her that he will win it back by gambling, because that's how he earns his living. The only point she objects to, is that he went off and had a good time without her.

Also disturbing is the lingering discomfort of having read the author's biographic information. Despite her ample education and her obvious feminist beliefs, author Hurston, died alone, impoverished, unloved, and unknown, and was buried in an unmarked grave. Unlike her heroine who journeyed to find her heart's desire and be true to herself, finding love, riches, and a sense of acceptance and community, Hurston's life belies everything that her heroine represents. This is not necessarily valid literary criticism: an author's own life is not the standard by which a piece of fiction should be judged. Fiction is, after all, made up. In this case it is written with the intention of being inspirational, rather than documentary. The concept of the fairy tale keeps running through my mind, in the style of the Grimm brothers, and Hurston uses many symbolic and iconographic elements in the telling of the story and her portrayal of the black community.

Urban Tourism/Turismo urbano

The boys had two weeks off school for Easter. The first week they were with José Miguel, the second week with me. We started our week's vacation with a trip to Guaduas, which made a nice change. The rest of the week was dedicated to urban tourism.

Los niños tuvieron dos semanas de vacaciones para Semana Santa. La primera semana estaban con José Miguel y la segunda semana conmigo. Comenzamos nuestra semana de vacaciones con un viaje a Guaduas, a cambio que hizo bien. Dedicamos el resto de la semana a turismo urbano.

Monday 13 April
Bowling with the boys at Compensar. I went earlier in the morning and did some exercise, and the boys met me there later on their bikes. The bowling alley is very new and modern. A bit pricey though, in Colombian terms. I won the first game, Matt won the second.

Lunes 13 abril
Bolos con los niños en Compensar. Fui temprano por la mañana y hice un poco de ejercicio. Los niños vinieron más tarde en sus bicicletas y se encontraron conmigo. El área de bolos en Compensar es nuevo y moderno, aunque un poco costoso en términos colombianos. Yo gané el primer partido y Mateo ganó el segundo.

Tuesday 14 April
We went to the Gold Museum. It has been renovated and it is very well displayed and organized. There was only one small school group there and we were able to avoid them. There were very few visitors at the museum on Tuesday, and over half of them were foreigners. Entrance to the Gold Museum is very cheap: Around $1.25 each for Matt and I, and children under 12 get in free.

Made apple crisp in the afternoon and then headed off to book club for the discussion of The Book of Salt by Monique Truong. I enjoyed the book a lot, though I would have enjoyed more discussion and less expounding at book club.

Martes 14 abril
Fuimos al Museo del Oro. El Museo hizo renovaciones y quedó muy bien arreglado y organizado. Únicamente había un grupo pequeño de colegio, y fuimos capaces de evitarlos. Muy pocas personas en el museo este Martes, y más de la mitad fueron extranjeros. La entrada es muy económica: $2.700 pesos cada uno por Mateo y yo, y niños menores de 12 entran gratis.

Hicimos un postre de manzanas por la tarde para llevar a club de lectura. La lectura de la quincena fue The Book of Salt por Monique Truong. Me gustó bastante el libro, aunque hubiera preferido más debate y menos discurso en la reunión.

Wednesday 15 April
No activity scheduled today. I got a lot of work done. When we got back from our weekend in Guaduas, there was a note from a translation client, asking how I was getting along with the texts she had sent the previous week, and would I be done by Thursday. I did not receive the texts the previous week, and had no idea that she had sent them. So she sent another copy of the texts and we agreed on the following Monday as the due date. That means I have a lot of work that I was not expecting to have to do this week.

We tried to have a Risk game, but there were some temper problems and the game had to be called off because of stormy weather.

For dinner we made pannecook, round crusty bread stuffed with chicken and mushroom curry. Afterward we watched "Wallace and Gromit: A Matter of Loaf or Death."

Miércoles 15 abril
No programamos ninguna actividad hoy. Adelanté el trabajo. Cuando llegamos de Guaduas, encontré una nota de un cliente de traducción, preguntando cómo iba con los textos, y si estuviesen listos para el Jueves. No recibí ningún texto la semana anterior. Entonces me envió otra copia de los textos y acordamos la entrega de la traducción para el lunes. Significa que tengo mucho trabajo que no esperaba para esta semana.

Intentamos jugar Risk por la tarde, pero hubo unos inconvenientes de mal genio y tuvimos que suspender el juego por mal tiempo.

Para la comida hicimos pannecook, pan francés redondo, relleno de curry de pollo con champiñones. Después miramos "Wallace and Gromit: A Matter of Loaf or Death."

Thursday 16 April
Mundo Aventura amusement park. The park opens at 1300. We arrived and were immediately accosted by street vendors, wanting to sell us packages of potato chips because the park was offering a special deal: bring in 8 empty Super Ricas Potato chip packages get a free pass for the rides. I disentangled myself from the street vendors and asked a park worker, who confirmed the veracity of the offer. So we bought 16 packages of potato chips from the streets vendor. I emptied all of the potato chips into a plastic bag, and the boys both got their passes for the rides. It cost us half the normal entry price. I paid more than I would normally pay for potato chips at the grocery store, but what the heck, I was supporting the street vendor and his family, and still came out ahead. On a Thursday afternoon when most schools are in session, the park was nearly empty. The boys went on whatever rides they wanted, as many times as they wanted. I brought a book to read. Maybe it is the vertigo, but amusement parks don't sit well with me. We stayed until the late afternoon, when it started to rain.

Jueves 16 abril
Parque de diversiones Mundo Aventura. Llegamos y de inmediata fuimos abordados por vendedores ambulantes quienes buscaban vendernos paquetes de papas Super Ricas porque con ocho paquetes vacíos, el parque está obsequiando el pase para las atracciones. Me deshice de los vendedores y pregunté a una empleada del parque quien me confirmó la oferta. Entonces compramos 16 paquetes de papas del vendedor. Vacié los paquetes en una bolsa plástica, y reclamaos los dos pases para los niños. Pagué más de lo que las papas valen en el supermercado, pero el precio total fue la mitad del costo de dos pases dentro del parque, y hice un aporte a la economía solidaria. Siendo jueves por la tarde, el parque estuvo casi vacío. Los niños montaron en las atracciones cuantas veces quisieran. Por mi parte, traje un libro para leer. Tal vez este por el vértigo, pero no me siento mucho los parques de diversiones. Quedamos hasta el final de la tarde cuando comenzó a llover.

Friday 17 April
Today's plan: Cici aquaparc! I don't like swimming pools at the best of times, but at least this one is half price on Fridays so off we went. It is near our house. They have a wave pool and a bunch of slides. I am not a big fan of water. I enjoyed curling up on a lounge with my book. I note that the demographic for this place is the following: young families, adolescent couples, and gangs of adolescent boys. Matt and William enjoyed themselves. I did not get wet.

Viernes 17 abril
Programa del día: Cici aquaparc! No me gusta mucho las piscinas pero ésta está a mitad de precio los viernes y los niños querrían, entonces nos fuimos. Es cerca la casa. Tiene una piscina de olas y varios toboganes. Como no me gusta el agua, me quedé leyendo. Observé que la demográfica del sitio es la siguiente: familias jóvenes, parejas de jóvenes, y grupos de niños adolescentes. Mateo y William disfrutaron el día. No me mojé.

The boys are with JM this weekend, and I have my work cut out for me.

Los niños están con José Miguel este fin de semana, y tengo que darlo duro al trabajo.


Observaciones sobre las noticias de la semana:

El Cadáver de Raúl Reyes
A qué juegan con el cuerpo de Raúl Reyes? Porqué la familia no reaccionó hace un año? Si a mi no me el cuerpo de un ser querido, yo hubiera puesto un grito en el cielo. Qué diablos le interesa un oficial de la policía con el cadáver del difunto? Será que no es de Raúl Reyes? Será que las FARC tienen el cadáver, en una inversión del caso de Emmanuel, el niño quien les escapó.

Servicio de Salud para los Presos
La semana pasada me enterré que desde este momento los presos en los cárceles colombianos tendrán acceso al servicio medico. Cómo así? Hasta este momento no tenían servicio medico? No señores. El servicio medico solo se prestaban en circunstancias de urgencia, nada más. Ahora tendrán derecho a la consulta médica y controles preventivos. No es que tengo mucho simpatía por los presos, pero se me hace que es un derecho fundamental. Estoy atónita.

The Book of Salt

The Book of Salt by Monique Truong

Binh, the Vietnamese cook working for Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, tells the story of his life and family in Vietnam, and his experience as a ship's cook, and his existence working as a private chef in Paris. It is a story about living and writing one's own history. Binh shares his story with the reader, a combination of fact and fabrication, delicately weaving the fabric of his life so that he can cover himself and survive in a world that has always been hostile and foreign, no matter where he is. Despite communication barriers, he seeks and makes contact with individuals who teach him lessons about life: Blériot teaches him cooking, French sensibilities and class considerations, and his provides him with his induction into sex; shipmate Bao teaches him how to protect himself in the world, and more sex; Stein admirer Lattimore teaches him about race, judgment, attraction, dishonesty and further sex; GertrudeStein and Alice B. Toklas about coupledom and acceptance, even if the family is utterly unconventional, two unappealing little dogs and two women, one of whom exists to serve the other although each needs the other in her own way. But it is his mother who gave him the most important gift of all, that of storytelling, and the way to create the story of his life. "A story is, after all, best when shared, a gift in the truest sense of the word."

Sentí frío entonces me senté en mi rincón preferido de la casa para calentarme en el sol.

Drink up, baby down
Mmm, are you in or are you out
Leave your things behind
'cause it's all going off without you
Excuse me, too busy you're writing your tragedy
These mishaps
You bubble wrap
When you've no idea what you're like

So let go, jump in
Oh well, whatcha waiting for
It's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So let go, just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown

It gains the more it gives
And then it rises with the fall
So hand me that remote
Can't you see that all that stuff's a sideshow

Such boundless pleasure
We've no time for later now
You can't await your own arrival
You've 20 seconds to comply

So let go, jump in
Oh well, whatcha waiting for
It's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So let go, just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown

So let go, jump in
Oh well, whatcha waiting for
It's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
So let go, just get in
Oh, it's so amazing here
It's alright
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown
'cause there's beauty in the breakdown

The Dream of the Soldier / El Sueño del Soldado

Véase la versión en español en la parte inferior de la página.

The Dream of the Soldier
I dreamed I was at the house of a man who had been my friend for years. He was a soldier who was going to war and his family was there saying goodbye. I didn't want him to leave without telling him how important was he was to me, even though I knew it wouldn't change anything; he would leave anyway. So I told him that I had always loved him and I asked him to give me something to remember him by. He led me into another room and from a drawer he took out a card. There was a recent picture of him inside. There was writing on the card, and I don't remember what it said, but what struck me was that he had written my name, Leslie, all over the card, in different kinds of handwriting, from a child's awkward printing to fine script, as if he had been writing my name there for many years. Then he kissed me and left. I didn't know if I would see him again. But he left knowing that I loved him, I knew that he felt the same way about me. He always had.

Weekend Away
The boys and I went to a friend's cottage in Guaduas (Cundinamarca) for the weekend. I meant to bring these friends some rhubarb for their garden, but we left in a hurry to catch the bus on Saturday morning and I didn't have time to dig the rhubarb up. On Sunday Matt and I went on a hike to the Piedra del Capiro lookout, where apparently you can look down from the ridge of the Guaduas Valley into the Magdalena Valley, and see the Magdalena River stretching out below you, with the Nevado del Ruiz and Nevado del Tolima in the distance. It was a three-hour hike from Guaduas. When we got to the lookout, there was a dense fog all around and we couldn't see anything.

System Restore
On Friday I opened an email, ostensibly from my cellphone service provider, and the AVG antivirus program warned me that it contained a Trojan virus. I selected the Heal option, but just to be on the safe side, today I did a system restore to reset my computer to the way it had been on Thursday.

What would life be like if you could do a system restore? If you could undo the stupid things that you have done?


El sueño del soldado
Soñé que estuve en la casa de un hombre que había sido mi amigo durante años. Era un soldado quien iba a la guerra y su familia estaba allí diciendo adiós. Yo no quería que se fuera sin decirle lo que sentía por él, aunque sabía que no cambiaría nada, él iría de todas formas. Así que le dije que siempre le quería, y le pedí que me diera algo para recordarle. Él me llevó a otra habitación y sacó una tarjeta de un cajón. Contenía una foto reciente de él. Había algo impreso en la tarjeta, y no recuerdo lo que decía, pero lo que me impactó fue él había escrito mi nombre, Leslie, en todas partes en la tarjeta, en diferentes tipos de escritura, desde la letra de un niño hasta caligrafía fina, como si hubiera escrito mi nombre allí durante el transcurso de muchos años. Después me besó y se fue. No sabía si iba verlo de nuevo. Sin embargo, se fue sabiendo que yo lo amaba, sabía que él sentía lo mismo por mí. Siempre le sentía.

Fin de semana de paseo
Este fin de semana los niños y yo fuimos a la finca de unos amigos en Guaduas (Cundinamarca). Tuve la intención de llevarles ruibarbo para su jardín, pero salimos de afán para coger la flota el sábado por la mañana, y no tuve tiempo para sacar el ruibarbo. El domingo, Mateo y yo hicimos una caminata al mirador de la Piedra del Capiro, en el filo de la Valle de Guaduas, donde se puede ver el Valle de La Magdalena y el Río Magdalena, con el Nevado del Ruiz y el Nevado del Tolima en la distancia. Era una caminata de unas tres horas de Guaduas. Cuando llegamos al mirador, había una densa niebla por todo lado y no pudimos ver nada.

Restaurar sistema
El viernes abrí un correo electrónico, supuestamente de mi proveedor de servicio de telefonía celular, y el programa antivirus AVG y me advirtió de que contenía un virus troyano. Seleccioné la opción de sanar, pero para estar segura, hoy hice una restauración del sistema para reiniciar mi equipo como era el día jueves.

¿Cómo sería la vida si se podría hacer una restauración del sistema? ¿Si pudiera rehacer las cosas estúpidas que deberían ser deshechas?

Paula Cole - I Don't Want To Wait
Uploaded by djoik

So open up your morning light
And say a little prayer for right
You know that if we are to stay alive
And see the peace in every eye

She had two babies
One was six months one was three
In the war of '44
Every telephone ring
Every heartbeat stinging
When she thought it was God calling her
Oh would her son grow to know his father

CHORUS:

I don't want to wait
For our lives to be over
I want to know right now
What will it be
I don't want to wait
For our lives to be over
Will it be yes or will it be
Sorry

He showed up all wet
On the rainy front step
Wearing shrapnel in his skin
And the war he saw
Lives inside him still
It's so hard to be gentle and warm
The years passed by and now
He had granddaughters

Chorus

Oh so you look at me
From across the room
You're wearing your anguish again
Believe me, I know the feeling
It sucks you into the jaws of anger
Oh, so dig a little more deeply,
All we have is the very moment
And I don't want to do what
His father and his father and his father did
I want to be here now

So open up your morning light
And say a little prayer for right
You know that if we are to stay alive
And see the peace in every eye

Chorus (2 times)

So open up your morning light
And say a little prayer for right
You know that if we are to stay alive
And see warmth in every eye

Letting the years fall away / Dejando caer los años

Véase la versión en español en la parte inferior de la pagina.

On Saturday, as I sat out on the terrace drinking beers, somehow over twenty years slipped away and I was in my early twenties again, a student at McGill. It was the month of April, the sun has been slowly finding its way back until one day it suddenly bursts upon the world and spring has officially arrived. The steamy picture windows that lead onto restaurant balconies are thrown open, and tables, chairs, and people spill into terraces to bask in the warmth, blinking their eyes in the unaccustomed brightness.

I sit at my table with fellow school friends. We are studying English Literature and we are passionate about our subject. I am drunk on cold beer and the heady exchange of ideas; delight when someone says something insightful, and reveling in glory when I make a compelling point.

No one making demands on my time, there is nowhere I have to be, nowhere I have to go. It is a time to enjoy the moment.

I went back there again this Saturday. I hadn't been there for years. It is a place where I lived and loved, and I missed it. I missed the young woman that I was too. For a while on Saturday, I let those years fall away, and had a beer with an old friend.



Dejando caer los años

El sábado, mientras que estuve sentada en la terraza tomando cerveza, de alguna manera dejé caer más de veinte años y tenía veintipico años de nuevo, siendo un estudiante de McGill. Es el mes de abril, el sol poco a poco venía encontrando su camino de regreso hasta que un día de pronto irrumpió al mundo y la primavera ha llegado oficialmente. Los ventanales grandes empapados de vapor de los restaurantes que dan sobre el exterior están abiertos, y mesas, sillas, y gente derramen en las terrazas a disfrutar del calor, parpadeando sus ojos por estar desacostumbrados al brillo.

Estoy sentada en una mesa con amigos de la escuela. Somos estudiantes de literatura inglés y estamos apasionados por el tema. Estoy borracha de cerveza fría y el intercambio de ideas embriagantes; deleitando cuando alguien dice algo profundo, y revelando en la gloria cuando hago un punto convincente.

Nadie me está pidiendo una rendición de cuentas sobre mi tiempo, no tengo que estar en ningún lado, no tengo que ir a ningún lado. Es un tiempo para disfrutar del momento.

Volví a este lugar el sábado. Hace años no le visitaba. Es un lugar que viví, amé, y me le perdí. Me hace falta la joven que era. Por un rato el sábado, deje caer los años, y tomé una cerveza con una vieja amiga.




Great Big Sea. Consequence Free

Wouldn't it be great, if no one ever got offended
Wouldn't it be great to say what's really on your mind
I have always said 'all the rules are made for bending'
And if I let my hair down, would that be such a crime?

[Chorus]
I wanna be consequence free
I wanna be where nothing needs to matter
I wanna be consequence free
just sing Na Na Na Na Na Ne Na Na Na

I could really use, to lose my Catholic conscience
Cuz I'm getting sick of feeling guilty all the time
I won't abuse it, Yeah I've got the best intentions
For a little bit of anarchy but not the hurting kind

[Chorus]

I couldn't sleep at all last night
cause I had so much on my mind
I'd like to leave it all behind,
but you know it's not that easy

[Chorus]

Wouldn't it be great, if the band just never ended
We could stay out late and we would never hear last call
We wouldn't need to worry about approval or permission,
we could - slip off the edge and never worry about the fall

[Chorus]

Weekend's Fun / Fin de semana de diversiones

Véase la versión en español en la parte inferior de la página.

Since this past Friday night, the kids have been with José Miguel for Easter Week. They have two weeks off school for the Easter holidays, and they will be with me the second week. I must admit, I had a fun weekend on my own.

Friday night
Lori and I made a plan to have massages and then go out for a glass of wine on Friday evening. In the afternoon she called me with an addendum to the plan: an invitation to a friend's house for a party. Perfect, I was up for it. We went to her gym for the massages. Usually I come out of a massage relaxed, but this one made me feel completely energized and I was ready to dance.

We headed out to the party around eight. That is early, but we arrived according to Canadian logic, since the party was being hosted by a Canadian couple. It was at a very nice place in Santa Ana. Susan is an oil company executive. It was a catered affair with a live band. There was abundant food and drink. I danced my ass off. I love dancing, and people are always surprised to see a foreigner who really knows how to dance salsa. I met a new friend, Yomary, who is around my age and she was also looking for a wingwoman to hit the clubs with, which is exactly what I need too. I finally met Pierre; we have a couple of friends in common but had never met.

Lori and I left around 2:00. We took a taxi and I dropped her off on the way home. Saturday morning I felt surprisingly good, despite the copious quantities of white wine consumed. It was good wine, and that really does make a difference. My feet, however, were still killing me. I have a love-hate relationship with heels; they look good and I can even move gracefully in them, but damn they are hard on the feet.

Saturday
Despite having been out until 2:30 in the morning, I was up at 6:00 as usual. And not only was I up, I was working: I had to translate the previous night's newscast. I managed to get through it, even if my brain did feel a bit sluggish.

Late morning, I headed out to take Sally's copy of The Book of Salt to Maria José, Majo. I called Majo, WHO NEVER HEARS HER CELLPHONE RINGING, as I was heading up the street to her house. Since she didn't answer I called Tony, her husband. There were out running an errand, so we arranged to meet at the Diletto café, right beside Authors bookstore on Calle 70. It was a warm afternoon, and I was still pretty dehydrated from the previous night's fun. So I ordered an iced coffee and settled down to wait.

Tony and Majo did not take long to arrive. We had a table on the terrace and they both ordered a beer. A friend of theirs was passing by. Julio is a fellow translator-artist colleague, and he came in to join us too. They ordered another round and, what the heck, I had a beer too. It was one of those perfect, warm, sunny afternoons, when everything in the world just feels right. I was impressed at the number of people that Tony and Majo knew who were going into Authors that day. They introduced me to several of them, including bookstore owner Steve. We had several beers and then decided to go get some lunch, as the afternoon was wearing on.

We went up the street to their apartment. Tony made fusilli pasta served with squids in their ink, and yellow zucchini, washed down with several more beers. Looking over the CD collection, I was amazed and astounded to see that they are Kate Bush fans. We put the music on, we sang, insofar as it is possible to sing along with KB. We talked, we drank. I would be hard pressed to remember much of the conversation, but I had an excellent time. It was a happy place to be. Around nine I figured that a coffee might make a nice change after all the beer. We had coffee, and then they gave me a lift home. Tony did the driving. His blood alcohol ratio was considerably healthier than Majo's or mine. I got home at 10:30.

Sunday
Amazingly enough I still didn't have a hangover. I got up at a reasonable hour, and headed out on my bike to go to the Carrefour grocery store, because I needed pizza dough and a few other things. In the afternoon I was going to go see the Swiss film Die Herbstzeitlosen (Late Bloomers) at the Eurocine film festival with Lori and Alexandra, but I had to finish a translation.
I finished the translation. (I had picked up the papers yesterday, and had carried them around with me all day in my big purse, and they got a bit wrinkled. I had to iron the originals before giving them back to the client.) Then I went out to meet up with Lori and Alex at the Juan Valdez Café on Calle 73. I love the great big terrace they have there, and I adore the JV granizado de café, a coffee slushy. We went out to dinner at Crepes and Waffles. Then Alex dropped Lori and I off at the new Surtifruver produce store on Calle 85, where we bought cheese fondue and Babybel cheese on sale, plus I got some bagels. This place was quite a find. We caught a taxi and I dropped off Lori at her place --she donated her guest room pillows to me, my bed now being short a number of pillows since the fire. And then I came back home.

I had a great weekend.


Fin de semana de diversions

Desde el pasado viernes por la noche, los chicos han estado con José Miguel por la Semana Santa. Tienen dos semanas de vacaciones escolares para la Semana Santa, y estarán conmigo la segunda semana. Debo admitir que tuve un fin de semana divertido.

Viernes por la noche
Lori y yo hicimos un plan para mandarnos hacer masajes, y luego salir a tomar una copa de vino el viernes por la noche. Por la tarde ella me llamó con una adición al plan: una invitación a la casa de unos amigos para una fiesta. Perfecto, yo era lista y dispuesta para una fiesta. Fuimos al gimnasio de Lori para los masajes. Por lo general, salgo de un masaje relajada, pero este masaje me hizo sentir energizada y estuve lista para bailar.

Nos dirigimos a la fiesta hacía las ocho. Era temprano, pero llegamos a la hora canadiense, la fiesta siendo organizada por una pareja de canadienses. Era en una casa muy bonita en Santa Ana. Susan es ejecutiva de una empresa petrolera. Había una banda en vivo, y abundante comida y bebida. Bailé hasta que no pude más. Me encanta bailar, y la gente siempre se sorprende al ver a una extranjera que realmente sabe bailar salsa. Conocí una nueva amiga, Yomary, quien es cercana a mi edad y también buscaba con quien salir a bailar, que es justamente lo que yo necesito también. Finalmente conocí a Pierre; tenemos un par de amigos en común, pero nunca nos conocimos

Lori y yo salimos de al fiesta alrededor de las 2:00. Tomamos un taxi, y la dejé en su apartamento, camino a casa. Sábado por la mañana me sentí sorprendentemente buena, a pesar de la cantidad de vino blanco que consumí. Era un vino bueno, lo que realmente marca una diferencia en términos de guayabo. Mis pies, sin embargo, todavía me dolían. Tengo una relación de amor y odio con los tacones: se ven muy bien y hasta puedo mover bien en ellos, pero carajo me maltratan los pies.

Sábado
A pesar de haber llegado sobre 2:30 de la mañana, me desperté a las 6:00 como siempre. No sólo estuve levantada, sino trabajando: tuve que traducir el noticiero de la noche anterior. Le logré, mismo si mi cerebro sentía algo lento.

Al final de la mañana, salí para llevar la copia de The Book of Salt a María José, Majo. Llamé a Majo, QUIEN NUNCA ESCUCHA SU CELULAR, mientras subía por la calle hacía su casa. Como ella no contestó, llamé a Tony, su marido. Estaban haciendo unas vueltas, entonces quedamos en reunirnos en el café Diletto, junto a la librería Authors en la Calle 70. Era una tarde calurosa, y todavía estuve deshidratada por parranda de la noche anterior. Entonces, pedí un café helado y me instalé a esperar.
Tony y Majo no tardaron en llegar. Tuvimos una mesa en la terraza, y que ambos pidieron cervezas. Un amigo suyo se pasaba por la calle. Julio es colega traductor y artista, y entró a acompañarnos también. Pidieron otra ronda y pensé, ¿qué carajo, también voy a tomar una cerveza. Fue una tarde perfecta, calientica, asoleada, que hace sentir que el mundo está en su rumbo. Estuve impresionado por el número de personas que Tony y Majo conocían quienes entraron a Authors de ese día. Me presentaron varias, incluyendo Steve, el dueño de la librería. Tomamos varias cervezas, y luego decidimos ir a buscar algo para almorzar, ya que se estaba haciendo tarde.

Fuimos al apartamento. Tony hizo una pasta fusilli con calamares en su tinta, y calabacín amarillo, y seguimos con la cervezas. Mirando su colección de CDs, quedé sorprendida y impresionada al ver que son fanáticos Kate Bush. Ponemos la música, cantamos, en la medida en que es posible para cantar con KB. Hablamos, bebimos. Se me hace difícil recordarme mucho de la conversación, pero pasé muy bien. Fue un día para estar contenta. Alrededor de las nueve, sentí que ya era suficiente cerveza. Tomamos un café, y luego me llevaron a mi casa. Tony condujo. La concentración de alcohol en la sangre era considerablemente más sana que Majo o la mía. Llegué a casa a las 10:30.

Domingo
Sorprendentemente amanecí sin guayabo. Me levanté a una hora razonable, salí en la bicicleta para ir al supermercado Carrefour, porque yo necesitaba masa para pizza y algunas otras cosas. Por la tarde tenía la intención de ir a ver la película suiza Die Herbstzeitlosen (Las chicas de la lencería) en el festival de cine Eurocine con Lori y Alexandra, pero tenía que terminar una traducción.
Terminé la traducción. (Había recogido los documentos el sábado. Los tenían conmigo todo el día en mi bolso grande, estaban un poco arrugados. Tuve que planchar los originales antes de devolverlos al cliente.) Luego fui a reunirme con Lori y Alex en el Café Juan Valdez en la Calle 73. Me encanta la terraza grande que tiene allí, y me fascina el granizado de café de JV. Salimos a cenar a Crepes y Waffles. Luego Alex dejo a Lori y a mí frente a la nueva tienda Surtifruver en la Calle 85, donde compramos queso para fondue y quesos Babybel que estaban en oferta, y además conseguí bagels. El sitio tiene buen surtido. Cogimos un taxi, y dejé a Lori en su casa- ella me donó un par de almohadas de su cuarto de huéspedes, para reemplazar las que me hacían falta después del incendio. Y luego llegué a casa.

¡Fue un fin de semana muy agradable!