Sixty two hours in Colombia

With tears in my eyes, I've finally reached the end of La Esclava Blanca.  Thanks to Gerlinde, it was a perfect way to spend 62 hours, my first telenovela.

The story involves a group of Black slaves in a Columbian village and hacienda, spanning twenty-plus years in the 1800s as they seek freedom from the harsh landowners, and find sympathizers and helpers in their struggle among some of the more enlightened and compassionate people of Santa Marta.

It may not be for everybody, but it was just what the doctor ordered for me--a journey into a different world while happily grounded in my own.  The characters are colorful and the landscape beautiful, but the punishments of the slaves are hard to watch.

As a literary critic, I might note that there were some logical holes in the plot and that the acting at times wasn't entirely believable, but those factors mattered less than the beauty of good people seeking freedom.  When there were horrible scenes of landowners doing inhumane things to the slaves, I did have to look away and tell myself, "This is just a play, these are just actors, nobody is getting hurt."

But how can a story be told without the reality of the injustice and cruelty of slavery, prejudice, and control of one people by another?

The protagonists, Victoria and Miguel; Mother Lorenzo and Tomas;  the slaves and landowners;  the honorable and the despicable--all the major characters of the story became the people I'll remember.

The story is timeless--as there is still slavery in so many parts of the world including child and sex slavery right here in America.  This series is, in my opinion, well worth the 62 hours it takes to see it through to the end.

Dinosaur Eggs

Today was a wonderful Yenna day. At the grandparents' breakfast at Helotes Elementary, Elena said she wanted to come over after school, and I said yes, of course.

In the meanwhile, a friend came over and brought Elena six dinosaur eggs like the ones she made for her grandson for his birthday--and were they a hit!  She plants plastic dinosaurs inside a shell made of baking soda.  When you put them in vinegar, they fizz for a bit and with a little help, they hatch!

Elena brought Conway, the good dog, and the three of us played until just now while her parents went out to dinner.

I even got Elena to watch an episode of my telenovela to see if she could understand the Spanish.  She loved it!  I had to fast-forward through a few scenes, but she really got into the story.

Having eliminated gluten and sugar and Diet Cokes, I'm feeling like a new person!  

Nathan and Elena this morning--
a kindergartner and a 5th grader

Where is your creative place?

Your house?  Your art studio?  A garden?  The ocean?

Here is a poem by William Stafford--and a picture--I snagged from today's Improvised Life:

The Inflammation Syndrome

This book is so interesting I decided to postpone my nutritional appointment until I've assimilated what's here--and go to yoga instead.

I'm taking notes and studying this carefully, but I did make a mistake in relating one fact in my previous post which Joy brought to my attention: I was surprised to read that the author suggested corn fed beef not grass fed ?  Did I read that correctly?  Cows are allergic to corn and every thing I've read is pro grass fed.

She's right, and I'm glad she  pointed out that error!

Most of the changes advocated in the book are things we already know--avoid sugar and other toxins, avoid bread and pasta in favor of fresh fruits and vegetables--but for me it's not always "not knowing"  but not "doing" or acting on what I already know.  Reading this book explains the biochemistry behind the principles of anti-inflammatory eating and I like knowing the reasons why certain foods are pro-inflammatory and others are anti-inflammatory.

I've been eating according to what I'm reading--and my body and brain feel better already.

Putting Out the Fire--with a correction, thanks to Joy

According to this book, The Inflammation Syndrome, most diseases start with inflammation.  We all have different triggers--pollens, foods, injuries, infections, etc.

The good news is that once we identify our triggers, we can reverse some if not all of the inflammation.  While there's no one dietary recommendation that fits for everyone, the author suggests drinking lots of water and green tea, eating five servings of fruit a day,  cold water wild salmon rather than farmed salmon,  grass-fed instead of grain-fed meats.  I'm on it!

We also have to avoid neurotoxins--sugar for most people, artificial sweeteners, gluten for some.  Natural Grocery has a person on staff who's giving me a one-on-one nutritional consult in the morning and I'm working at the moment on cultivating a taste for kefir with blueberries and almonds, resolving to break the Diet Coke habit.

Pain is a wake-up call.   For all who haven't hit the chronic inflammation stage, it's never too early to start taking preventative measures to put out the fire before it manifests in aches and pains.

Outlaw Kitchen

When I returned Pam's suitcase for his trip to Colorado, Alison came in and told us that tonight was the soft opening of the Outlaw Kitchen, Magnolia and Flores Street.

The chef has worked all over the world and his wife remodels old houses--so this place is a blending of their talents and dreams.  We decided to drive the few blocks from Pam's house and get take-out, and it was delicious.  The vegetables and herbs come from their backyard garden.

They serve one meal each night they are open, no choices, and there's limited space for seating in the half of their house they have turned into Outlaw Kitchen.  You might want to check online or call ahead to find out what nights they are open, but I think it may be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

You can also buy frozen meals and homemade condiments.  I brought home a jar of chow-chow.

Happy Labor Day, Everybody!

For the past three days, Jan and I both have had big flares of whatever we have.  "Maybe we should move to Connecticut!" she suggested this morning.

Mine is CREST--an autoimmune disorder I often call Fibro for shortcut.  My fingers swell and turn red and I ache all over.  It's hard to make plans because I never know when it's going to flare.  So I went to Natural Grocery this morning and bought a book called The Inflammation Syndrome and am turning off the phone and going into study mode for the rest of the day.

After the summer school project of decorating--which has been its own kind of school with my work partner Edward--I'm turning now to fitness school. Fortunately, mine is not every day, but after three days of pain, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to claim more pain-free days.

A story by Day Leary

Day--her first teaching day this year.

Juan is an eighteen year old boy with cerebral palsy.  He rides in a wheelchair, sometimes with his hands held still by velcro straps.  He turns his head sharply to the left when he speaks, and as he prepares his ideas, he jerks and unintentionally “dances” as though at a punk rock club.  They told me at the beginning of the year that I may never see him smile, that he is mentally incredibly ON while every second his body betrays him.

But when he is still, and when you take the time to sit receptively as he passes through the jaws of constant and exhausting movement, you see his eyes.  They are deep brown, full of light.

I met Juan just one week ago on the first day of school.  I am high school English teacher who also gets to teach public speaking.  Juan is a member of that class.  Today, I called on him to do Table Topics, a type of speech where students speak extemporaneously as they answer a question posed to them.  I already knew Juan loves the DC and Marvel multiverses, so I asked him, “Juan, are you ready to try a speech?”  

“Yes,” he answered with a spark in his eye.

“Who is your favorite superhero?”

The class is a true mix: a few superstar athletes, a few academic high-achievers, some English language learners, a few kids with special physical and intellectual needs.  Some of the students are shy, but incredibly brave, others loud and incredibly eager.  Our school is a unique place, a hidden gem of compassion in a world where it sometimes feel like people have forgotten the word even exists.  Ours is a place where our physically and intellectually challenged students play an active role in classes and in school events.  Last year our prom king and queen, elected by the student body, both had special needs.  So, as Juan was pushed to the front of the room, the rest of the class waited, genuinely interested in hearing the answer to his question.

Here is his speech:

“My favorite superhero is Superman.”  We all leaned forward to hear him better.  Juan drew his legs in and out, pounding on his wheelchair, a loud clanging filling the room.  “I like him because he is an alien who comes from another planet…” Another pause as Juan’s neck jerked his head so he was facing the ceiling.  We all waited with quiet attention.  “He came here only to help people.”  Another long pause, Juan’s face contorting and tongue freezing up for countable seconds.   “He is a good man, but some people think he is a monster.”  A shorter pause this time.  “I can relate.”

There was an audible intake of breath from the class and then they erupted into applause, one of the varsity athletes even yelling, “Way to go, Juan!”  

And for the first time, the boy they told me may never ever smile in class did.

Day Leary

Teacher

English Department Chairperson

“Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”

--Theodore Roosevelt

Colombia in San Antonio

I spent my first day back with the totally engaging telenovela, La Esclava Blanca.  It's so long I'm still not even halfway through.  The colors, photography, houses, and wardrobes are so vivid I'd compare it more to a stage production than a realistic rendering of the times and people of 19th century Colombia.  Scene after scene is like a painting, some of my favorites being the ones in which people are shopping in the market place, the slave women gorgeous in their multi-colored turbans and dresses.

The pacing is slow--which I've enjoyed.  Sometimes there are illogical issues--like how did the lawyers transport an entire legal library to the town when they only traveled in a small carriage? like how do these slaves look so beautiful in their attire after working all day in the fields?--but the story isn't marred by those details when you appreciate the genre for what it is.  It's a series I'm hooked on.  Thanks, Gerlinde!

Contemplative in Connecticut

Jan and I just returned from a birthday-for-Jan trip to Connecticut to visit friends.  The weather and meals and hospitality were wonderful, as were clear skies, birds, boats, and conversation.  Here I am on the boat in the Long Island Sound soaking up salty air and a vista that included a blurry distant skyline of Manhattan in the distance.  We loved it!

We did NIA outside--a first for me:

From the sky, from the water, and on the land, New England is always one of my favorite places to visit, and this trip was beautifully memorable.

FLYING INTO NEW YORK