Live the Book – A Bottle in the Gaza Sea

I became a pen-pal to a girl in Israel and young man in Palestine. It breaks my heart to see how helpless they feel, and how the violence has impacted their lives in such crippling and terrifying ways. And they both, so much, want peace. They have hope, though, so I guess I must have it, too. I hope to meet up with them in a few years in Italy.

 

 

#LiveTheBook #WhereWillYouGoToday

Live The Book – Touching the Void

Over the past two days I was the first to summit the Siula Grande (in Peru) from the West side, crushed my tibia into my knee joint, got caught in a blizzard, fell 150 feet into a crevasse, hiked out, and crawled my way back to base camp with frostbite while going snow blind, suffering from dehydration, almost dying of ketosis (not to mention hypothermia, dehydration …), using the last ounce of my energy to call out for my climbing partner. I’m down now. I’m okay. Not to worry. I’m okay.
I’m freaking exhausted.


#LiveTheBook #WhereWillYouGoToday

Colombia from the Hip … The “Recolectores”

Walking downtown the other day, I met the most phenomenal delivery man. He takes this crazy-heavy wooden cart around town to make deliveries for people. I’m not talking pizza and Chinese food … I’m talking furniture, helping people move offices … you name it, he’ll carry it. Basically, the cart itself is heavier than anything I can budge.
And he was so happy to let me take pictures and show off his colorful cart, painted like a Chiva with “Jesus is my savior. God. Faith.” and similar signs everywhere.
I’m amazed at what a hard job this is. To get up and carry hundreds of pounds every day. I’m constantly in wonder by the drive of  people to make their lives better, to drag a cart around town hoping for work, not knowing, from day to day, if there will be work.
There’s definitely a huge element of faith in that.
And I feel fortunate to have celebrated his work with him for a moment. It’s humbling.

I think about Alicia Keys’  HOLY WAR. Maybe if we all took a moment to share and celebrate one another’s work and life challenges, we could bridge the hate and divide.

“What if sex was holy and war was obscene
And it wasn’t twisted, what a wonderful dream
Living for love, unafraid of the end
Forgiveness is the only real revenge

Oh, so we can heal each other and fill each other
We can break these walls between each other
Baby, blow by blow and brick by brick
Keep yourself open, yourself open”

#ColombiaFromTheHip #HolyDeliveryTruckBatMan !!

 

Ahhh … The New Year Post …

With its utter lack of creativity. Everything feels so derivative. Everybody’s gung-ho, ready to make changes, ready to take tap dancing lessons, learn a new language, travel more, eat less, start a new page of a new book, try chapulines, grow a beard, and be better, stronger, prettier, more handsome,  more educated, more cultured, more of the good, less of the bad  … And I don’t have much to add to the pot.

I’m not a resolution-type person. I set goals. Some I’ll set today. Some later. But there is something to be said about reflecting on who we are, the mistakes we’ve made (don’t dwell! Dude, it’s Facebook. Everybody looks like an asshole on Facebook at times.), and the possibilities we have to be better.

So, I propose an ongoing resolution policy. DON’T WAIT UNTIL DECEMBER 31, 2015 if something cool occurs to you in the next month or so. And since I’m pushing on a resolution blog on you, I’ll tell you my resolutions. So here goes!

I resolve to:

  • work harder … (I need to get up earlier to get more work done!)
  • keep taking swimming lessons … (I learned how to swim this past year! For real! And am so happy with my swimming lessons.)
  • be kinder …
  • be more tolerant …
  • not judge those who selfie while trying to pretend they’re acting spontaneous but, you know, from their posture and perky boobs, duck lips and coiffed hair they’re really selfieholics, selfiemaniacs, selfiers in the most selfier possible way … (Okay. They’ve got a three-strike selfie allowance. If, in one month, someone’s selfied more than three, she’s an egotistical ass. Unless she’s selfie-ing in the Lost City of Atlantis, next to Amelia Earhardt’s crashed plane, or the Loch Ness Monster. Then, by all means, those discoveries entitle anyone to an infinite selfie allowance.)
  • Shit … that wasn’t very tolerant.
  • Erase be more tolerant.
  • That wasn’t very nice, either.
  • I’ll be kinder. I won’t call the selfie-prone “egotistical asses.”  I’ll just laugh at them to myself.

I’m not doing too hot, am I?

How’s this? I’ll just give you my 2015 wishes for you and everyone I meet (selfiers included)…

Make your year wonderful. Create memorable, unexpected moments. Surprise someone you love. Surprise yourself. Find your courage. Read more. Listen more. Have one of those in-the-rain kisses you see in the movies. Stomp in puddles and crunch on leaves. Hold someone’s hand. Give more hugs. Climb a tree. Expect the best from everyone, from yourself. Forgive yourself. At least once every few months, eat dessert for dinner. Try something new. Stumble and get up. Value the people in your life. Value yourself.

HAPPY 2015! Let’s make this year the best … and then some!

A book (every other) day! Day 21 and contemporary Colombian authors!

When we think about Colombian literature, we think Gabriel Garcia Marquez. But that tends to be tunnel vision, as if we were to only think about American lit and Ernest Hemingway.
Contemporary Colombian authors have added to the body of Latin American literature in phenomenal ways to paint Colombian life with words, stories, and such far-fetched tales of truth that you’d think that you were reading about another place on another planet.
One of Colombia’s challenges as a place to project its talent is the lack of a major publishing house. So there are many voices lost to the fact that there’s no major distribution for some pretty spectacular works. That said, Colombian authors looking for a bigger platform have to look into Spain, Mexico and Argentina.As with the arts, it’s an uphill battle to get things out there, but the ones who have managed to break through the barriers and hurdle obstacles are noteworthy.

Here are three of my favorite, contemporary Colombian authors:

Jorge Franco is best known for Rosario Tijeras, the tale of a woman sicario (the motorcycle-riding hitmen in the 1980s) and the dark side of life in Medellin during the 1980 and 1990s. One of my favorites of his, though, is Paraiso Travel, the story of two young Colombians who go through the “hueco” in Mexico to get to New York, then get separated and lose each other. The story of an illegal immigrant in the States is powerful. Franco’s voice is a gift in the world of literature and one that explores contemporary Colombian realities.

German Castro Caycedo, like Gabo, has a background in journalism. He’s written many chronicles about the curious, folkloric, and inconceivable realities of Colombia — everything from a gypsy witch’s power in Colombian politics and with local drug lords in la Bruja to the dangerous illegal crossing to the United States in el Hueco. He’s written about unresolved mysteries and anecdotal historical events that weave great investigative journalism with the magic that’s so proper to Colombian writing.

Laura Restrepo is, to date, the most well-known contemporary female voice in Colombian literature. She’s had an extensive career, even writing a children’s book. (So she must be good because only the best write for children).  Delirium, her 2004 novel about a man who returns from a business trip to find his wife completely mad, is the novel that gave her the extra push into the spotlight she deserves.

Happy reading!

A Book (Every Other) Day … Day 19 and Waiting for Snow in Havana

A good friend of mine lent me this book a couple of years ago … and I think it’s super appropriate to recommend it today! And now I want to re-read it because I read it with “baby brain.” (My second daughter was a newborn.)
Waiting for Snow in Havana: Confessions of a Cuban Boy by Pedro Eire is a what feels like a fairytale, this-can’t-be-for-real memoir (see … I’m telling you, this is the year of the memoir for me) of a young boy who lived a life of Cuban aristocracy (with a father who was a judge who believed himself to be the reincarnation of Louis XVI),  the depression and fear he lived in post-revolution, then leaving Cuba in Operation Pedro Pan — an operation that flew thousands of Cuban children out of Cuba without their parents and plopped them in Miami. These children became “lost boys.”
What makes the memoir so poignant is Eire’s incredible voice that’s both nostalgic and indicting … a powerful way to view the world and take a scalpal to his memories to extract vignettes of beauty and tragedy and bring us along this journey he lived.

Today, I celebrate the walls that are crumbling away to creating a more hospitable, decent world.
Today, I celebrate Waiting for Snow in Havana

A Book a Day … Day 17 and A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

I’ve noticed that I’m on a bit of a memoir kick. It’s completely unintentional, really, since my Mom is a binge reader and hands me everything she reads. This year, apparently, was my mom’s “the year of memoir.”

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers is a hyperactive, Red Bull memoir that is a bit dizzying. Eggers is self deprecating, egocentric college senior who loses both his parents to cancer within a period of five weeks and becomes his 8-year-old brother’s guardian. Between turning a hard-wood floored home into a sliding rink and juggling work, school, his 8-year-old brother’s life and and the hormones of a 22-year-old, this memoir is a bit like reading a stream-of-consciousness stumble through life.

It’s good. It’s inventive. It’s a kind of writing I’ve never actually encountered before. And BOY was I glad to finish it because I was exhausted. It was like wind sprinting through this guy’s mind … and always being a step behind.

Eggers founded  826 , a non-profit organization that pairs students with writers to help students develop their writing ability and succeed in school. He’s a really fascinating person.

A Book a Day … Dayb 15 and Micah Kesselring

Today we deviate and I have to recommend this beautiful CD written and composed by Micah Kesselring that has stories in its notes.
Admittedly, I’m a bit of a music dud. There’s a huge gap between my Hughie Lewis and the News-slash-Cindy Lauper days and 2005 (around there). But little by little, thanks to Jango and the magic of having friends who actually CARE about music, I’m getting back in the swing of things.
I have the privilege of working with a bi-national institute that brings in a Jazz Festival and Blues Festival every year. This year, the cultural director called me last minute to translate for the blues musicians who came in. And, this year, I met my first genius. Lots of people throw that around. “Oh! She’s a genius! She’s brilliant!” Very few people, though, for REAL REAL REAL have that genius thing going on.
Actually, in my 41 years, I’ve only ever met ONE genius. This guy.
Micah so impressed me. He started playing guitar when he was 10 and went professional by the time he was 14. The Blues Hall of Fame invited him to play when he was 15. This guy … is the real deal genius guy. When he played, he was transported somewhere else … And it was magical to watch someone become music. That’s the best way I can describe it.
He became his music.
 So, today I recommend this treasure.

http://micahkesselring.bandcamp.com/

A Book a Day, Day 14 and Touching the Rock:An Experience of Blindness

John Hull, an Australian theological scholar, after 36 years of sight problems went completely blind. Touching the Rock is a collection of essays, thoughts, and moments he describes during the first three years of his total blindness, keeping a diary on a cassette player he has beside his bed.
Its simplicity and eloquence is phenomenal.
It’s not a “look-at-me” survival guide to being the Super Blind Man. There are no Tony Robbins moments in here. It’s a quiet, emotional and physical journey into what it feels like being a blind husband and parent; what it’s like to encounter people after years of not seeing them, and “not seeing” them; what it’s like to feel frustrated with the vagueness of language; and what things make the world come alive for him.
It’s all in the details.
It’s beautiful.