On the second coming of Jesus and Blindness..

I noticed my last blog entry was November 2, 2011-
Although I am not going to go through the usual Blogger's remorse discourse for not being a faithful writer, I must say I missed writing. Everyday has been an adventure for the most part. I've made mental notes of what I'm going to write and share with you but while I did not have a laptop it was hard to remember all.
SO now you're just going to get shpeal overload.. yay!


First things first:


What has Heidy been up to?
- I tried Bikram Yoga with co-workers-  it was hell. I hated the instructor, myself for signing up, the person next to me for stretching all the way through the pose and breathing f**ing loud. I also hated minute number 45 ... and 1-90.  I hated the clock, my sticky self, my wet hair. I hated the sweat-drenched leftovers. I hated the heat vent directly above me.    
"wow, Heidy! So much hate," you might say...
My answer: YES,
BUT don't you know?
Love always overcomes.
I did however, Love myself for going through all but the first 90 minutes of the first session. I loved the cold shower afterwards. And I also loved the few times (when my co-workers weren't there) I roamed the locker room naked and free. I loved exploring the city and roaming  the city in a new bus route (Bus 14). I loved feeling every inch of my body sweat. I loved the breeze through the door crack. I love that I saw a childhood friend. I loved the refreshed feeling afterwards. I loved the way i inhaled and exhaled.
... you get the point.
I learned to love the things that were so horrible at first.
At first when people shared their motivation and love for the pastime all I could do was giggle inside, but now I know why and I kind of want to go back?
Thank you, Bikram Choudhury.


- I tried snowboarding for the first time. Eh, just a bunch of falls... NO lesson or adventure there. Would like to do it again.


- Went to Disneyland for free and earned a new friendship.
This one has a prologue. But to make the story short. Johan (That's another story coming) and I went to the Getty Museum on  $2.00- riding the 720 which got in an accident at Rodeo Drive. I witnessed and got a free day pass. yay!  After that bittersweet incident we rode a Westwood bus and finally arrived at our destination.  we waited an eternity for the bus back home. There was a nice young couple waiting with us they had parked in Bel Air to avoid parking costs we somehow sparked a conversation, I shared my free pass with them and it turned out they offered a ride home :)  They were so sweet. It was a very eventful day and it didn't end there. Two weeks later, Lia, invited me to Disneyland I was hesitant to reply because Disneyland was out of my budget. But God works in mysterious and amazing ways; Lia & her boyfriend were awesome enough to cover the costs ...asking nothing in return. WOW! what did I ever do to deserve that?!
I am forever grateful. I was at the perfect place at the perfect time to have met such genuine people.


-- That's all I could think of now :)


Second:
The title is based on my bus ride today.
After visiting the bookstore and reading a natural remedy book, I decided to get out of stinky downtown. It makes me nauseous sometimes ( I'm actually nauseous now), and then I also get motion sick on the bus- the natural remedy book suggested ginger tea so I'm looking into that.
Anyway, I was in my relaxed state and overheard a heavy Central American accent mixed with a pentecostal tone- Its hard to explain.
She shared with her neighbor that today's crazy weather meant that Jesus was near. I listened.
He then asked if Noah's story was real as if she was an all-knowing source. I listened.
They talked about the Mayan prophecies. I listened.


Then a blind man came on. I stopped listening and started to wonder how my life would be if I was blind. How would your life be?
I think I would be fearless. Ethnicity, skin color wouldn't mean anything- I wouldn't be the Latina girl I identify with. Material things wouldn't mean anything. All the little thing wouldn't matter. It would be a different, beautiful world. I am sure. 

Siete-Tres-Tres

Que onda chavos!?

I´ve been on a hiatus. Yes. Indeed.
I have changed my bus route. I no longer take the 740 from Hawthorne through Crenshaw/MLK and north on Broadway, rather take the 733 which takes me east on Venice towards downtown L.A- drops me off at 7th and Main.

Most importantly....... I have found the First church of Rasta! I see it everyday to and fro work.
(Anybody want to join Friday Night Reggae?) http://rastachurch.weebly.com/index.html


Aside form the Rasta church the route is not as entertaining..... OR could it be that I am getting tired of riding the bus and, like all repetitive motions and actions, its becoming a routine?!
To this fellow readers I say: maybe, quizá. Riding the 740 was like riding in the car with distant cousins that you gradually warm up to (remember that?). While riding the 733 is plainly being in car with strangers. In addition, riding the 740 was like a child going to an amusement park, it was new different and exciting. Six months later nothing fun ever happens and people are just heading to work! Blehhhhhhhhhhhh...
Since July I have only made one real conection on the 733 bus. That was the day I left my lunch and belongings on the bench at Fairfax & Venice. One day I came home for the weekend my dad surprised me with a beautiful lunch bag with nice bright colors and plasticware-- it was just plain wonderful and thoughtful! *Keep in mind that my dad hardly makes purchases for hos daughter let alone a surprise. He said the nice vibrant colors made him think of me.. (aw) and that he thought it was sad I took my lunch in a plastic bag to a nationally acclaimed civil rights organization-- hmmmm, I don´t know about that one (I'm recycling! duh.) I guess he just wanted me to ride in style. So, my lunch bag was perfect and it became a part of me kind of like a best friend (ok.. not really). I planned my meals a day ahead and looked forward to making it all fit into the bag like some sort of a Tetris game. It was fun while it lasted and my lunchbag lived a good life. Like everything and everyone that crosses one´s path sometimes you just have to let go- and I did............unwillingly and
unexpectedly.
Let me begin.......
In my usual morning scramble I reached over my purse to get my bus token and then rushed inside then  stops later I realized a part of me was missing........... My lunch bag!!!
In it were my lentils, a banana, and I forgot what other goodies. I don´t know exactly why but I was devastaded. I pouted and was angry at myself, sad, and just discouraged. In this time of anguish a lady comforted me and made me forget my pain, we talked and talked and deep in my heart I know someone enjoyed a healthy and wholesome meal.

The Weekend I thought I would Die!

My friends...
 I don't understand why I get home from work so tired and hungry that by the time I reload its already too late for anything- so that results in a little "my pants don't fit, I need a moment", moment.
BUT THIS IS CHANGING
My beautiful friend (sistah) Allesandra ( Sorry, I must share: Lindsay Lohan's double) is great! She motivated me to go over her casa all the waayyyyyyyyy to Long Beach, we rode our bikes across downtown and to THE REEF (a restaurant) for Salsa Night-- It wassss amaaaaaaaazinnng!
I've always had a love for dancing and "shakin' it which I got from my mother. I enjoy it and realized it is my perfect cardio activity and hobby. I feel very optimistic and I am even buying dancing shoes this weekend!
My goal is not the whole weight thing.. I just need to be active and get better at what I enjoy. Motivation and persistence is the hard part.

Well.... the title of this is really about a 3 day- 30k hike I did from Quetzaltenango to San Pedro La Laguna. It is just a reminder that I can do anything I set myself to do.. because I forget sometimes.
That weekend my awesome British friend and coworker, Alice, convinced Jamil ( the energitic Habitat for Humanity Researcher who is really a Guatemalan @ heart, and a great cuate) and I to take on a challenging hike. We naively agreed, later I learned Jamil had the same doubts as I-- YES! i wasn't the only one :P jeje. At first I thought.. "pff.. piece of cake, I like hikes this will be fun."
I even forgot about it, brushed off and worked my usual 6pm - midnight shifts at EL Cuartito (the cafe I waitressed at)
REALITY CHECK came to me in a harsh form when all the party gringos and chapines (guatemalans) did not leave El Cuartito .. it was 11:00 and the reggae band kept playing their Bob Marley and Manu Chao covers.TO think I still had to do the dishes, wait for Sarita ( the kitchen manager) to clean the kitchen, pay me for the night, and lock all 20 million doors ... made me squirm- I had to meet Alice and the others at 5:50 am! As I was cleaning, my young cougar host mom decided for a night out in Xela .. how rude of me not to want to come along, right? ughhh
At this point I made a bad decision. I succumbed to my 23 year old brain: "Do it, you only live once".. of course I had to go dance at Argyle (the after party place) .. why sleep anyway?
by 3:45ish I was hating myself.. babysitting was no fun.
My 18 year old little host brother decided to "walk" a girl home so his mom and I had to cover up for him.. or else his dad would get upset. This meant everyone in my room! grr..there it goes... I spent 24 hrs awake before going on the Hike from hell.. and it was only horrible because of my lack of sleep ..

We walked for 10 hours the first day and all the other hike groups got there first. The first night we slept in tents in a small caserio up in the mountains. My body was beyond tired due to lack of sleep and to top it off-- (BOYS: DON"T READ THIS PART) -- I got my period...in the wilderness. Nothing is ever as bad as it seems though, I had the amazing experience to bathe in a traditional temazcal or sweat lodge... It was amazing!
Toto- our guide made the meals.. and we helped. 4 of us slept in a tent.. squeezed in there, but nice and warm.
THe following morning was glorious! Amazing views and far away from the world.
I have sooooo much more to say about this hike.. (But will save for next time)

 So, when I am feeling sluggish and not in the "mood" for salsa I will remember how deep in my little soul lies more than an ounce of motivation and determination.



check out the pics and vids!

Sombrero and a Quienceañera

We live in a world where political incorrectness is frowned on. There are instances where things are said inappropriately, at the wrong place, wrong moment, by the wrong person or simply just wrong! It is truly hard to decipher what crosses the line and what does not, I admit. I have yet to draw my own boundaries, especially when it comes to gender, race, and religion. To me little sexist joke is funny and never hurt anyone- (This is probably wrong for me to say, being a woman and all) haha
being a Latina- some jokes are funny especially the ones making fun of growing up in America (George Lopez, Mencia, Alex Reymundo.. etc.) even Anjelah Johnson's "Nail Salon" skit is funny, she narrates the experience that many of us (women) have when visiting a nail shop; complete with a Vietnamese woman's accent http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SsWrY77o77o ** Check it out**

"Sombrero and a Quienceañera" is the title of this entry because while the bus drove through the e USC/ MLK Jr Area, there was an older African American gentleman- in his 60s.. maybe. He shared his $3 million dollar architecture project with the passengers. He was speaking quite loudly.. his story didn't seem too interesting until I heard: MEXICAN SOMBRERO and a QUIENCEANERA! these two words in a sentence sound funny to me especially coming out this particula gentleman's sentence.. Was he making fun of those two Mexican staples? Was he generalizing?
He shared his unemployment story with the Berkeley grad Computer Programmer guy that always enters the bus at the Florence and Crenshaw stop ;) (something I also overheard). He was very articulate and mentioned big firms, projects and buildings in the LA area- but still, something did not seem right. Then he went on to say he was divorced and had not seen his kids in years, he was unsure if they had moved with their Norwegian mother to Mexico or New Mexico but when he made a vist he would surely take his daughter A MEXICAN SOMBRERO and celebrate her QUINCEANERA!!! to other people this may sound ignorant or improper but it made me laugh :) ... hey! at least he knows about the Mexican culture, right?
What is improper though is a topless "gringa" inebriated on the beach of cabo san lucas wearing one an screaming, "Quiero mas Tequila !" thinking this is Mexican culture.

Moral of the Story:
Sombreros and Quienceañeras have made their way into American culture. Sixty years ago these terms were probably alien to many Americans.. not the case anymore (at least in California). What they probably don't know is that a sombrero is worn all over Latin America and has different purposes: work, style, status , and occasion. The sombrero we see depicted and generalized in America and sold by the dozens in Rosarito is the sombrero mariachis wear in Jalisco. The word sombrero comes from "sombra" meaning shade in Spanish. So, a sombrero is not solely "Mexican."
On the other hand, a quienceañera is a coming of age celebration for girls which originated from the Tolteca and Aztec traditions. Although speaking to the UNAM secretary at my workplace, a Quience is a celebration formulated by  the Spaniards in the New World. It is beleived that after the celebration a girl got engaged and moved into her future husband's home. Now it symbolizes (it did for me) a big dress and the permission to "date". When I was 12 I asked my dad when I could date, he said 15 and once I was 15 he changed it to 18! hahah
My quince meant I had a new cell phone and lots of money!  :) it was indeed, the day I felt like a true señorita.

"The Working Nomad"- Phillippines and Guatemala

So what do the Philippines and Guatemala have in common?

- Well interestingly they both share a strong desire for pimpin' their rides. In Guatemala bus drivers invest their time and money in personalizing their buses; they name them after their daughters, mothers, lovers and possibly even movie stars. They even have sorround sound TV's ! its truly amazing because you will never get on the "same ol" boring bus.. they're all different! I've never been to the Philippines BUT the bus above resembles the Guatemalan chicken bus and it even has a feminine name. There are other similarities in culture and politics that both states also resemble. For instance, when writting my undergrad thesis on the political relationship between Israel and Guatemala, Philippines popped up in my research. Cheryl Rubenberg, a Middle East researcher, states that Israel aided both countries in providing arms for counterinsurgency. This goes to show my strong conviction that everything is intertwined in this world and we are all NOT so different as we tend to believe.
Today in the Bus I overheard a VERY interesting conversation between two hardworking men. A Guatemalan and a Philipino. I saw it as an amazing exchange of ideas and culture between the two . Back in their country they probably never thought they would meet each other. I applied my make-up and through my compact mirror I could see their expressions- I guess I was being nosey! :p
They talked about work.
The Guatemalan gentleman looked like he was in his early 50s, he explained to the other his unsatisfaction with the current job situation- as he is a costurero which means he works in the garment district here in Downtown Los Angeles. He gets paid $40 for 5 hours that is $120 p/week!! How does he survive? He is moving to Alabama to work for "los pollos" he explained. I think he was talking about Alabama poultry farms- I learned something new. There he is expected to peel 40 chickens p/ minute!!!! He actually sounded enthused about the $1000 he would be making.
Having been in rural villages of Guatemala and working with women I can finally say I have met the pahantom husband and father they speak of. Many (many) women are left to care for their households while the men make their way to the U.S. In 2009 I worked in Totonicapan and I saw the HUGE homes with plumbing and other "commodities" I asked where their husbands worked and sure enough they were in California, New York, Virginia.. etc. at the moment the "man" they spoke of became a strong but invisible presence- like some sort of phantom husband.
I'm on the other end now and understand them more than they think.
The Philippino gentleman (in Spanish) kept on asking questions about his job, family and country. Twenty minutes later they said their good-byes and hoped to see each other the next day :)

The Bus ride was over, but the stories continue


here are some more creative ones : http://www.flickr.com/photos/28495615@N02/5371220368/

Meeting GREAT people on the METRO

I try not be too friendly in the METRO because I am afraid to be mistaken as "vulnerable"...
BUT I can't help it, when I am in another country I am always amazed by the hospitality :)
SO, I try to do the same .
Monday I was late to the first interview of my job hunting career.. it was a horrible feeling and i was sooo mad!
All because the bus driver was rude to a handicapped woman.. it turned out to be a violent exchange and the supervisor had to be called .. meanwhile, the passengers angrily waited ( I was one of them).

I met a nice man named Ebuka from Gabon. He shared his experiences in Paris and we actually had lots to talk about. HE invited me to his African parties in LA. It was a great cultural exchange :)
We were both going to an interview, we may have more in common with people than we think. So talking to strangers is not that bad, actually.
Sitting there talking to him reminded me of sitting in a train and relating to the African men on a train in Italy last year. These men were hard workers and it was so heartwarming to see one of them gazing at the picture of his family back home.
Being in a new land can be so confusing and lonely and when there is someone to talk to it is refreshing.. I have been on both ends.

Going "Green"

For 5 months I have been relying on public transportation in Mexico, Guatemala. To my surprise Mexico had a very impressive and effective system with subways and city buses not to mention, the popular 1st and 2nd class buses and terminals that get tourists and nationals alike to and fro big city destinations. My favorite was ADN, we had comfortable seats that leaned all the way back and we even had a snack bag- way better than the Greyhound.. But I must admit the snack bag got me ! :) Transportation in Guatemala-- hmmm.. questionable, but interesting. Lets just say you get to ride in an old 1980s school bus next to about 5 people in the same row and when it is a popular destination you get to stand. The driver is a fearless son of a gun that loves his amazing job.. or does he? Truly admirable though are the "ayudantes" (the aides), they strap your belongings to the top of the bus while the bus is driving away... its like an India Jones movie!! I had other experiences in the "micro" (pronounced mee-cro) - short for microbus. Overall I enjoyed the down time and people watching, it was always something interesting.
So with all these experiences I thought: "Piece of cake, I'm in LA I can get around just fine without a car"

**Sidenote: I sold my bluberry blue Acura Integra to finance my trip-- NO REGRETS.**

Say that again?? Well it has been a bit hard to get around BUT perfect timing to GO GREEN and save money for more important things. Job hunting with all its challenges has proven to be difficult, however the "Down time" I get in the bus and the metro is the cherry on the top of my day....WELL sometimes..
Other times it is stressful to hear people complain and be disrespectful with each other. At the same time it is an eye opener, and I feel familiar when passing through the poorest areas of LA I feel the way I felt when in Guatemala.. there is Hope. :)