yesterday i stood in line waiting to wash my hands or brush my teeth or wash my dishes. whatever it was, i was waiting, next to the pila where we wash our clothes or clean fish, next to our shower where i always scrape my shin stepping out, next to our toilet stand where every third flush something breaks and we must take water from the pila to lower the water in the bowl. i was there, waiting for barbara to finish what she was doing, there below the criss cross of clothes line with wet and semi-wet clothes blocking vision, i looked up and out through the netting to the forest, the sun, a bird.
this will not always be. yet i am here.
sábado, 26 de abril de 2008
still waters, candle light and cysts
i begin my day on the dock breathing with the still
waters and low clouds. i end my day transforming
a pair of pants to a skirt. i sew by candle light, as i
learn about the cysts in which amaebas wrap their
eggs, tough enough to not absorb the medicine i
take every 12 hours. my third treatment in eight
months.
waters and low clouds. i end my day transforming
a pair of pants to a skirt. i sew by candle light, as i
learn about the cysts in which amaebas wrap their
eggs, tough enough to not absorb the medicine i
take every 12 hours. my third treatment in eight
months.
domingo, 20 de abril de 2008
without witness
"If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?"
the lancha veered looking for calmer waters, but the wind didn't rest and the white waves didn't soften. we were teachers and students returning to family and friends on a friday afternoon, when we saw her. she was probably in her late 40's or early 50's standing tall at the back guiding her low laying lancha. wood palets tied with a white cord weighed it down. hey don tocho! they let her drive the boat. why don't you guys teach me to drive like her? screamed paloma to the clown bellied lanchero through the motor and wind. we watched her back head down river as we continued up.
-you know you can stay here tonight, her friend reminded her. the river is choppy; you have a heavy load, and it is getting late. why don't you stay?
-i want to get home. i've been out all day purchasing the wood. i want to sleep in my own bed tonight, see my dogs, check up on mono. mono was the howling monkey she had discovered in the indigenous town behind her home. seeing it tied up in a cage, she offered a fare price and took it home to add to her collection of rescued animals. thanks for the offer, but it isn't that bad. if i leave know i should be home for dinner with chuck.
-be careful
-i will
with a kiss on the cheek and a hug they parted. the friend stayed on the dock watching the boat pull away and head toward the golfete. they waved one last time and then, the woman never looked back.
by 7:30 most teachers and students were eating at home in their different towns, but not all. we, the foriegn teachers, didn't have to travel far to find ourselves scattered on the cushions of the sundog cafe owned by other foreigners. by 7:30 we were on our second beer when the radio was turned up and we heard, ...anyone seen my wife? she should have arrived by now... the voice continued to describe the long lancha heavy with wood.
by 9:00 the owners of the cafe and the other sailors were on their cell phones sending out the alert to those who may not be near a radio.
no one really knows what happened. nobody witnessed the fall. the lancha was found half sunk with her body at river's bottom. she was a good swimmer. theories blame the water and wind that caused wood to fly to head.
arriving at his cafe the next day, the owner had to walk through a navy barricade that kept people away from the dock where her bloated body lay face up. now on land, no one could touch her or move her until the officials from puerto barrios came. for two hours her body cooked in the carribean sun and there was nothing her husband could do in this land that was never his.
the lancha veered looking for calmer waters, but the wind didn't rest and the white waves didn't soften. we were teachers and students returning to family and friends on a friday afternoon, when we saw her. she was probably in her late 40's or early 50's standing tall at the back guiding her low laying lancha. wood palets tied with a white cord weighed it down. hey don tocho! they let her drive the boat. why don't you guys teach me to drive like her? screamed paloma to the clown bellied lanchero through the motor and wind. we watched her back head down river as we continued up.
-you know you can stay here tonight, her friend reminded her. the river is choppy; you have a heavy load, and it is getting late. why don't you stay?
-i want to get home. i've been out all day purchasing the wood. i want to sleep in my own bed tonight, see my dogs, check up on mono. mono was the howling monkey she had discovered in the indigenous town behind her home. seeing it tied up in a cage, she offered a fare price and took it home to add to her collection of rescued animals. thanks for the offer, but it isn't that bad. if i leave know i should be home for dinner with chuck.
-be careful
-i will
with a kiss on the cheek and a hug they parted. the friend stayed on the dock watching the boat pull away and head toward the golfete. they waved one last time and then, the woman never looked back.
by 7:30 most teachers and students were eating at home in their different towns, but not all. we, the foriegn teachers, didn't have to travel far to find ourselves scattered on the cushions of the sundog cafe owned by other foreigners. by 7:30 we were on our second beer when the radio was turned up and we heard, ...anyone seen my wife? she should have arrived by now... the voice continued to describe the long lancha heavy with wood.
by 9:00 the owners of the cafe and the other sailors were on their cell phones sending out the alert to those who may not be near a radio.
no one really knows what happened. nobody witnessed the fall. the lancha was found half sunk with her body at river's bottom. she was a good swimmer. theories blame the water and wind that caused wood to fly to head.
arriving at his cafe the next day, the owner had to walk through a navy barricade that kept people away from the dock where her bloated body lay face up. now on land, no one could touch her or move her until the officials from puerto barrios came. for two hours her body cooked in the carribean sun and there was nothing her husband could do in this land that was never his.
sábado, 19 de abril de 2008
today...
...the clothes line fell; the men were changing lamina roofing when one slipped and came sliding down right into the thin green twine hung between green column and brown tree. heidi's white shirt sunk in the mud, her black shorts stuck under an oxidized metal sheet. i had more luck. all my nine items hung proudly at 7:10 am fell dry and to the right of the slop.
...i had to remind myself to breath again as elvia decoded words with d: nido, moda, dama and then sentences: me duele mi dedo; el mono anda de moda. she doesn't need work with silable cards, she just needs practice, needs someone to read with her daily.
...when i arrived to pick up my students from the library, i found them spread on the floor, eyes closed. they had all become sleeping beauties and needed my kiss to wake them and send them off to snack time. ony one escaped me: elder.
i am a collection of these moments and more.
...i had to remind myself to breath again as elvia decoded words with d: nido, moda, dama and then sentences: me duele mi dedo; el mono anda de moda. she doesn't need work with silable cards, she just needs practice, needs someone to read with her daily.
...when i arrived to pick up my students from the library, i found them spread on the floor, eyes closed. they had all become sleeping beauties and needed my kiss to wake them and send them off to snack time. ony one escaped me: elder.
i am a collection of these moments and more.
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