Old year dying, new year arising...
Stupid or not, I have got used to this routine of blogging by the end of every year, to take a look back and see how the year was, and also take a look forward and set my goals for the next year.
Last year I decided 2013 had been my best year so far. And for the 1st time, I didn´t write down a list of goals or expectations for 2014. This is what I wrote:
"It´s all so uncertain right now, that I cannot make many purposes for the new year... So I will stick to the immediate: pass the MIR, come back to NY, start studying for the damned USMLE and the TOEFL... And make the path by walking."
Well, I can say I did it all, so 2014 was a good year too.
I welcomed the new year in NY, dancing with a guy I got to really admire (yep, me, dancing). I did quite well at the exam, well enough to get the post I wanted. I came back to NY. And I also visited Philadelphia, Boston, Washington and Columbus. I loved, I laughed, I cried. I got the chance to observe in an american hospital. I had a wonderful 3 year old kid sleeping by my side after he peed on his mattress. I got a job I really like, I met quite a few people and made quite a few good friends. I moved back to my crappy apartment, where you can practice roach hunting even in the shower. I got serious about the USMLE. And, the most important thing, I learnt where I want my life to go -- and I´m working for it.
As for the year to come, I have it very clear what I want from it, but for the 1st time in my life I feel that it´s only up to me to make it happen. So once more, I won´t write down a list of expectations, though I have to say that, in 2015, I hope I get the chance to read more, write more, meet more interesting people and keep growing and getting wiser. And I also hope to get my green card -- karma owes me. The rest is entirely on my hand. Though my wish to have a dusty wooden attic with a piano, a guitar, a huge old chest containing who knows what, old books, an easel and oil paintings is still there...
But instead of talking about my goals, I would like to take about "goals", just like that, in general.
This is something I´ve been thinking about a lot lately, and I want to share a brief reflection with all you people of the world who will never read my posting. I have been wondering why it is so important to me to pass the USMLE, to get another observership, to come back to the US, etc. I have been seriously considering if that was what I really wanted, after all. I have been trying to convince myself that the fact that I wanted to do all that did not obey to rational but to emotional reasons. And myself ended up convincing me otherwise. I guess she´s a better arguer.
I don´t care about how things turn out. Maybe one of these days I will meet somebody, and I will decide to stay here a little longer until we see how things unfold. Maybe within a few years I will be a happily married proud mom and I won´t want to leave this decadent country anymore. Who knows. But right now, right here, I don´t want to feel trapped. And I want to know that I will be able to do whatever the fuck I want to do, to live wherever the fuck I want to live. I know I will be good at what I do, because I have a clinical experience that most of my peers lack. But I want to know that I can be good wherever it is that I want to be good.
Also, and you might think this is stupid, the fact that I was able to be by myself in a foreign country made me feel incredibly free, and I don´t want to lose that feeling. And I know that, even if I finally decide not to leave, the fact that I passed the exams, that I had the choice, will make me be proud of myself. And I want to keep learning from a culture I used to consider arrogant not long ago (and I still find funny sometimes).
But anyways, I´m losing my own thread here. I did not want to discuss "my" goals, but the importance of having goals.
Because I think life is just a succession of goals and achievements. You need to have one goal to keep you active and motivated. You need to achieve that goal to feel proud and fulfilled. And then, you need to get a new goal so you don´t get lost in your own comfort and self satisfaction. And I guess our goals are one of the things that can best define us. When we meet someone, their goals (call them plans, ambitions, hopes...) are what make us get more or less interested in them. The way they work to achieve their goals is what gives us an idea of their credibility and makes us keep or lose interest. And the way they react to success or failure tells everything about their attitude towards life.
And if you don´t have any goals, then you´re lost. That means you don´t expect anything from life, you just keep going no matter where. No ambitions, no purpose. No chance to be proud of yourself.
So you better get one.
So yes, back to my goals for 2015, I do have quite a few. I don´t know if I will achieve them, but I´m working on it. I don´t know if I will change my mind, but that´s something you can never know. I just want to know that, by the time I have to make my choice, I will have opened as many doors as possible. And then I will complain about how difficult my decision is, and I will have earned every right to complain.
Speaking of which, "the right to complain" will make a subject for an incoming post very soon.
In conclusion, I hope you and I succeed in our new year purposes, so that we can feel proud of ourselves, set new purposes and keep moving.
(And I hope one day I will get my dusty attic)
Traveler, it´s up to you to make the path.
Happy 2015!!!
:)
miércoles, 31 de diciembre de 2014
domingo, 28 de diciembre de 2014
Frost VS Steinbeck
So nope, I didn´t quite like the letter that Steinbeck wrote to his son about, apparently, "the importance of waiting for love". You might want to read the whole original letter here, as I plan to copy-paste and interrupt it after every paragraph for analysis.
I, of course, have no right (not to say authority!) to criticize the glories, yet here I go again.
"New York
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you."
Obvious, having somebody to love is always a good thing. Pointless advice. "Don´t let bully-boys punch you for that, poor soul."
"Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had."
Ok, but the first kind of love is not a love for somebody else, but for oneself. So the only genuine kind of love, when we are talking about "being in love with somebody", is the second one. So once again, needless paragraph.
"You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love."
Well I don´t know what the kid meant with "puppy love", maybe I should read his letter. But you can perfectly feel "puppy love" and still feel it deeper than any other thing you´ve ever felt before. This, I guess, depends also on the other person, or what the other person wants with you, or how the other person manages his social (not only sentimental) relationships. It can happen that some people are so self confident, so determined, so sure about what they want, that one´s own expectations or wishes become reliant on the other´s priorities, and one ends up living at someone else´s shadow. When such thing happens, and you find yourself wagging your tail with excitement every time the other makes a concession, then you´re feeling a really deep puppy love. I´m gonna guess, this is probably not what the kid meant. He probably meant that he didn´t love the girl the same way he´d love a puppy (a temporary whim, 1st kind of love, sexist idiot)..., but there´s no way to know.
"But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you."
Smart papa, the man knew how to read between the lines!! That´s only a part of a great author´s privileges.
"Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration."
Ok, the father is not being honest here. Nor clear. He doesn´t want to tell his kid that there´s also a possibility that the girl will not respond to his loving. He tries to mask this possibility behind "shyness". Anyways, his advice here is, "Tell her. But if she´s acting shy, don´t tell her".
"Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also."
Oh yes, girls can tell. These bitchy beings have a special sense. But they find delight in making you suffer, so she will pretend not to know. Sorry, in other words, daddy´s advice here: "Go ahead and tell her. She already knows anyways."
"It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good."
"And then, face the consequences like a man". I think daddy knows that his kid´s love is not corresponded. But, again, he doesn´t want to hurt his feelings so he won´t say it clearly. But he also wants him to stop being girly, for god´s sake, just tell her at once, be rejected and move on to the next girl, and enough writing about your feelings, you innocent little flower!
"Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it."
"Just in case you´re wondering, I love your mom. And she´s my wife. You looser."
"We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can."
"Because, like I said, she´s my wife. And she´s a woman. Therefore, it´s her duty to make all such arrangements and also she likes all this 'feelings' bullshit more than I do. So stop bothering me with that.".
"And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away."
Stupid last line for consolation. Though it will be 50% the subject of my upcoming rambling. But yes, daddy does not have too much faith in the future of this relationship... And now he´s saying "Ok, tell her..., but not yet, maybe." Poor kid must have ended so messed up. Clever daddy, he gave him every possible advice. Tell her, don´t tell her, be brave and tell her and your mom will set everything up, but maybe don´t tell her yet.
"Love,
Fa"
MY UPCOMING RAMBLING
So I didn´t make this simil in the first place, but will try to explain why, to me, Robert Frost´s "Nothing gold can stay" (or "Nothing golden stays", as the poem was originally conceived) and Steinbeck´s "Nothing good gets away" don´t have opposite meanings, though one might think they do.
Ok, Frost´s turn now. "Nothing gold can stay". True. But not less true as Quereda´s "Nothing rusty can stay". As the truth is, nothing, golden or rusty, can stay, because we ourselves cannot stay. But I believe, as long as I stay, something golden or something rusty might well stay too. Not unchanged, of course, but maybe with little change. We probably tend to think about love here. Or wealth. In any case, it can last as long as I am alive, if I´m lucky enough. It might not, but it could.
Now about the statement that "Nothing good gets away", let me bring up again Vonnegut´s "The truth is, we know so little about life, we don't really know what the good news is and what the bad news is."
"Nothing good gets away" doesn´t mean that golden will stay. It rather means, "if it didn´t stay, then it was no gold". Like I said, it´s a comforting phrase to think of after something good does get away. Like the fable "The fox and the grapes", it´s another way to try to convince oneself that what went away was not so good after all. That if she had been meant to be "the one", she would have waited no matter how long. That if she didn´t wait forever, then she did not deserve to be "the one". Which is a normal reaction to loss, or rejection, I guess, but not true for every particular case. Anyways, it´s a way to turn someone´s grief into another´s fault, maybe because we need someone else to blame instead of ourselves. Which I think might not be the best way to deal with it, but it´s perfectly understandable, and legitimate if it works -- and even if it doesn´t.
But I´d rather hold on to Vonnegut´s absolutely true quote. Which is another way to say, "There´s no way to tell, but this might have been for the best".
So, dear Steinbeck Jr., find your balls and tell the girl. If she must say no, the sooner the better. That´s a much better advice than the sentimental crap your dad just told you.
I, of course, have no right (not to say authority!) to criticize the glories, yet here I go again.
"New York
November 10, 1958
Dear Thom:
We had your letter this morning. I will answer it from my point of view and of course Elaine will from hers.
First -- if you are in love -- that's a good thing -- that's about the best thing that can happen to anyone. Don't let anyone make it small or light to you."
Obvious, having somebody to love is always a good thing. Pointless advice. "Don´t let bully-boys punch you for that, poor soul."
"Second -- There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical thing which uses love for self-importance. This is the ugly and crippling kind. The other is an outpouring of everything good in you -- of kindness and consideration and respect -- not only the social respect of manners but the greater respect which is recognition of another person as unique and valuable. The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn't know you had."
Ok, but the first kind of love is not a love for somebody else, but for oneself. So the only genuine kind of love, when we are talking about "being in love with somebody", is the second one. So once again, needless paragraph.
"You say this is not puppy love. If you feel so deeply -- of course it isn't puppy love."
Well I don´t know what the kid meant with "puppy love", maybe I should read his letter. But you can perfectly feel "puppy love" and still feel it deeper than any other thing you´ve ever felt before. This, I guess, depends also on the other person, or what the other person wants with you, or how the other person manages his social (not only sentimental) relationships. It can happen that some people are so self confident, so determined, so sure about what they want, that one´s own expectations or wishes become reliant on the other´s priorities, and one ends up living at someone else´s shadow. When such thing happens, and you find yourself wagging your tail with excitement every time the other makes a concession, then you´re feeling a really deep puppy love. I´m gonna guess, this is probably not what the kid meant. He probably meant that he didn´t love the girl the same way he´d love a puppy (a temporary whim, 1st kind of love, sexist idiot)..., but there´s no way to know.
"But I don't think you were asking me what you feel. You know better than anyone. What you wanted me to help you with is what to do about it -- and that I can tell you."
Smart papa, the man knew how to read between the lines!! That´s only a part of a great author´s privileges.
"Glory in it for one thing and be very glad and grateful for it.
The object of love is the best and most beautiful. Try to live up to it.
If you love someone -- there is no possible harm in saying so -- only you must remember that some people are very shy and sometimes the saying must take that shyness into consideration."
Ok, the father is not being honest here. Nor clear. He doesn´t want to tell his kid that there´s also a possibility that the girl will not respond to his loving. He tries to mask this possibility behind "shyness". Anyways, his advice here is, "Tell her. But if she´s acting shy, don´t tell her".
"Girls have a way of knowing or feeling what you feel, but they usually like to hear it also."
Oh yes, girls can tell. These bitchy beings have a special sense. But they find delight in making you suffer, so she will pretend not to know. Sorry, in other words, daddy´s advice here: "Go ahead and tell her. She already knows anyways."
"It sometimes happens that what you feel is not returned for one reason or another -- but that does not make your feeling less valuable and good."
"And then, face the consequences like a man". I think daddy knows that his kid´s love is not corresponded. But, again, he doesn´t want to hurt his feelings so he won´t say it clearly. But he also wants him to stop being girly, for god´s sake, just tell her at once, be rejected and move on to the next girl, and enough writing about your feelings, you innocent little flower!
"Lastly, I know your feeling because I have it and I'm glad you have it."
"Just in case you´re wondering, I love your mom. And she´s my wife. You looser."
"We will be glad to meet Susan. She will be very welcome. But Elaine will make all such arrangements because that is her province and she will be very glad to. She knows about love too and maybe she can give you more help than I can."
"Because, like I said, she´s my wife. And she´s a woman. Therefore, it´s her duty to make all such arrangements and also she likes all this 'feelings' bullshit more than I do. So stop bothering me with that.".
"And don't worry about losing. If it is right, it happens -- The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away."
Stupid last line for consolation. Though it will be 50% the subject of my upcoming rambling. But yes, daddy does not have too much faith in the future of this relationship... And now he´s saying "Ok, tell her..., but not yet, maybe." Poor kid must have ended so messed up. Clever daddy, he gave him every possible advice. Tell her, don´t tell her, be brave and tell her and your mom will set everything up, but maybe don´t tell her yet.
"Love,
Fa"
MY UPCOMING RAMBLING
So I didn´t make this simil in the first place, but will try to explain why, to me, Robert Frost´s "Nothing gold can stay" (or "Nothing golden stays", as the poem was originally conceived) and Steinbeck´s "Nothing good gets away" don´t have opposite meanings, though one might think they do.
Ok, Frost´s turn now. "Nothing gold can stay". True. But not less true as Quereda´s "Nothing rusty can stay". As the truth is, nothing, golden or rusty, can stay, because we ourselves cannot stay. But I believe, as long as I stay, something golden or something rusty might well stay too. Not unchanged, of course, but maybe with little change. We probably tend to think about love here. Or wealth. In any case, it can last as long as I am alive, if I´m lucky enough. It might not, but it could.
Now about the statement that "Nothing good gets away", let me bring up again Vonnegut´s "The truth is, we know so little about life, we don't really know what the good news is and what the bad news is."
"Nothing good gets away" doesn´t mean that golden will stay. It rather means, "if it didn´t stay, then it was no gold". Like I said, it´s a comforting phrase to think of after something good does get away. Like the fable "The fox and the grapes", it´s another way to try to convince oneself that what went away was not so good after all. That if she had been meant to be "the one", she would have waited no matter how long. That if she didn´t wait forever, then she did not deserve to be "the one". Which is a normal reaction to loss, or rejection, I guess, but not true for every particular case. Anyways, it´s a way to turn someone´s grief into another´s fault, maybe because we need someone else to blame instead of ourselves. Which I think might not be the best way to deal with it, but it´s perfectly understandable, and legitimate if it works -- and even if it doesn´t.
But I´d rather hold on to Vonnegut´s absolutely true quote. Which is another way to say, "There´s no way to tell, but this might have been for the best".
So, dear Steinbeck Jr., find your balls and tell the girl. If she must say no, the sooner the better. That´s a much better advice than the sentimental crap your dad just told you.
domingo, 7 de diciembre de 2014
Reflections on black and white
I read on the news, "A US grand jury will be asked to decide whether to prosecute a New York police officer over the fatal shooting of an unarmed black man in Brooklyn."
And this is only a few days after another grand jury decided not to charge another NY cop who killed another unarmed black man. And after another cop was found innocent of killing a black kid in Ferguson this past summer.
I´m a white, kind of wealthy european girl. I´m writing from my bed, in my crappy but comfortable room in Madrid. What do I know, right?
Right.
I don´t know much about US law. I have never experienced racism myself. I have probably had involuntary racist behaviours many times in my life. But to me, being racist makes as much sense as hating/disliking/distrusting people who wear a blue shirt.
I´m not familiar with the Ferguson case, I never got to read much about it. But I know there´s been controversy about the facts, and it was not clear whether the killing was self defense or the kid had been trying to surrender (hands up, they said). Though in any case, I don´t get how six shots can be considered "self defense", but ok, let´s buy it. There was a reasonable doubt. He was found innocent. I´m glad he decided to quit, anyways.
But in this new case... What is it to decide? It´s a cop killing an unarmed man because he was entering his own house. Just doesn´t make sense. The decision to make should be whether or not he´s guilty of homicide, in a court. But whether or not to press charges? It´s absurd.
And yet I think the cop in Ferguson is more punishable. Again, I don´t know, so from here on this is just me hypothesizing, without any objective data to support what I´m saying.
But to me, there are mostly two different kinds of racism.
The first one would be hate. The kind of hate of those who wave the confederate flag. Those who believe that black people are a lower race, born to serve white people, and clearly not worthy of the same rights as them. (Writing this makes me feel so embarrased of being white!).
The second kind of racism would be distrust. People who are conditioned by society or education to be afraid of black people, or to think that they might be dangerous. This may sound a little forced, but these people might as well be considered as victims of racism...
So I don´t think there was an intention to kill a black person from the cop in Brooklyn. Even if he had been a person who loves killing black people for fun, doing that would have been absurd considering the current social context. No one would be so stupid to risk his career like that - I want to think. So I think in this case, the cop was another victim of a racist society with racist prejudices.
Now, this doesn´t mean I don´t think he should be punished! He should be charged, he should be judged, and he should be found guilty. But not guilty of a racist crime, but guilty of killing another person, no matter what the race, for no reason. Yes, his motivation was a racist prejudice, but probably not a racist hate. And for prejudice, there´s a whole society to blame.
I got so mad these past days reading the news. It made me wish I could resign from being white. It made me wish I could do something to prove that I don´t belong to this, I hope, minority of white people who believe themselves to be superior beings. I saw a photo of one of the protests in NY, and for a moment I thought, I should be there.
But then I thought, would I really want to be there? The photo showed lots of black people, mostly black women at the front, holding banners, raising fists, yelling in a very aggressive pose. Understandable, of course. That´s exactly how I myself would be, if I was there protesting.
But then, would they want to see me there? Would they want to have the enemy in their ranks? Wouldn´t they, at least some of them, think that I´m mocking them, that I´m ruining their cause? That a black protest has no place for a white oppressor?
Again, that´s how far my ignorance can go. I´m sure most black people would want white people to join them. But the truth is, there was not one single white person in that particular photo.
And I thought, if this is how I feel, being here, completely external to what is happening there, then things must be so messed up right now. Racial hate must be highest than ever in the past few years. Blacks hating whites for being racist, whites hating blacks for accusing them of racism... Obama in the middle of it, making unfortunate or rather polemic statements, being partial, taking sides... But how can one, black or white, or mixed, or asian, or eskimo, stay impartial here?
I guess things will get better with time. They have to. Maybe within a few generations, when we are all mixed, who knows. But in the meantime, I wish there was something that could be done. I wish we could take all these stupid ignorant racist whites, and slap them over and over until we shook stupidity off...
Anyways, this is how much my daily 6 minutes breakfasts yield...
And this is only a few days after another grand jury decided not to charge another NY cop who killed another unarmed black man. And after another cop was found innocent of killing a black kid in Ferguson this past summer.
I´m a white, kind of wealthy european girl. I´m writing from my bed, in my crappy but comfortable room in Madrid. What do I know, right?
Right.
I don´t know much about US law. I have never experienced racism myself. I have probably had involuntary racist behaviours many times in my life. But to me, being racist makes as much sense as hating/disliking/distrusting people who wear a blue shirt.
I´m not familiar with the Ferguson case, I never got to read much about it. But I know there´s been controversy about the facts, and it was not clear whether the killing was self defense or the kid had been trying to surrender (hands up, they said). Though in any case, I don´t get how six shots can be considered "self defense", but ok, let´s buy it. There was a reasonable doubt. He was found innocent. I´m glad he decided to quit, anyways.
But in this new case... What is it to decide? It´s a cop killing an unarmed man because he was entering his own house. Just doesn´t make sense. The decision to make should be whether or not he´s guilty of homicide, in a court. But whether or not to press charges? It´s absurd.
And yet I think the cop in Ferguson is more punishable. Again, I don´t know, so from here on this is just me hypothesizing, without any objective data to support what I´m saying.
But to me, there are mostly two different kinds of racism.
The first one would be hate. The kind of hate of those who wave the confederate flag. Those who believe that black people are a lower race, born to serve white people, and clearly not worthy of the same rights as them. (Writing this makes me feel so embarrased of being white!).
The second kind of racism would be distrust. People who are conditioned by society or education to be afraid of black people, or to think that they might be dangerous. This may sound a little forced, but these people might as well be considered as victims of racism...
So I don´t think there was an intention to kill a black person from the cop in Brooklyn. Even if he had been a person who loves killing black people for fun, doing that would have been absurd considering the current social context. No one would be so stupid to risk his career like that - I want to think. So I think in this case, the cop was another victim of a racist society with racist prejudices.
Now, this doesn´t mean I don´t think he should be punished! He should be charged, he should be judged, and he should be found guilty. But not guilty of a racist crime, but guilty of killing another person, no matter what the race, for no reason. Yes, his motivation was a racist prejudice, but probably not a racist hate. And for prejudice, there´s a whole society to blame.
I got so mad these past days reading the news. It made me wish I could resign from being white. It made me wish I could do something to prove that I don´t belong to this, I hope, minority of white people who believe themselves to be superior beings. I saw a photo of one of the protests in NY, and for a moment I thought, I should be there.
But then I thought, would I really want to be there? The photo showed lots of black people, mostly black women at the front, holding banners, raising fists, yelling in a very aggressive pose. Understandable, of course. That´s exactly how I myself would be, if I was there protesting.
But then, would they want to see me there? Would they want to have the enemy in their ranks? Wouldn´t they, at least some of them, think that I´m mocking them, that I´m ruining their cause? That a black protest has no place for a white oppressor?
Again, that´s how far my ignorance can go. I´m sure most black people would want white people to join them. But the truth is, there was not one single white person in that particular photo.
And I thought, if this is how I feel, being here, completely external to what is happening there, then things must be so messed up right now. Racial hate must be highest than ever in the past few years. Blacks hating whites for being racist, whites hating blacks for accusing them of racism... Obama in the middle of it, making unfortunate or rather polemic statements, being partial, taking sides... But how can one, black or white, or mixed, or asian, or eskimo, stay impartial here?
I guess things will get better with time. They have to. Maybe within a few generations, when we are all mixed, who knows. But in the meantime, I wish there was something that could be done. I wish we could take all these stupid ignorant racist whites, and slap them over and over until we shook stupidity off...
Anyways, this is how much my daily 6 minutes breakfasts yield...
jueves, 4 de diciembre de 2014
"Dear blog..."
And suddenly, it is december. And I only realised because of the christmas trees and the lightening.
It feels like I´m exactly where I was two months ago, but I´m not. I tried to keep myself busy, physically and mentally, and I´ve done so well that time has passed by without me noticing. I´ve done so well that I haven´t had time to visit my parents in weeks, watch my shows, read the news (except for my daily 6 minutes everyday from 8:50 to 8:56, when I quickly browse the bbc website while drinking my coffee) or blog.
I didn´t blog about goals, which I hope I will do sometime soon because the idea has been whirling in my head for quite a bit of time now. I didn´t blog about african immigration (yes, again). I didn´t blog about bonds (I will, too). I didn´t blog about my new lifestyle, hanging out even on mondays. I didn´t blog about guys, apartments and wine. I didn´t blog about my new friend, whom I told I wrote a blog, and how he mocked at me quoting "dear blog, today I woke up and had breakfast" - I denied doing that, and I´m aware it´s exactly what I´m doing right now. I didn´t blog about my next observership. I didn´t blog about the Ferguson trial.
I also didn´t mention the american kid I met just a few days ago, which is the only thing of the above I´m gonna write about now (shortly), because meeting him made me reconsider again my position with regard to american vs spanish teenagers. To say it briefly, I generally consider that spanish kids take everything as a joke, while americans take themselves too seriously. Though I must say I have no reason (not an objective one, at least) to think so, because I have never met an american teenager.
Anyways. This guy was 21. His family was originally from Poland but he was from Nashville, Tennessee. He was studying computer sciences, spending his last year in some school in Manchester. We started chatting about nothing and anything, and so we ended up talking about Darren Wilson and racism in the US. And from there we got to Obama and his immigration politics, and from there to international politics. And the way he talked, this kid, got me impressed. He was talking about such high matters, as if the world was his to opine - but his it was indeed, as it is mine, as it was mine when I was a 21 year old stupid who knew nothing about life and spent her weekend nights drinking kalimotxo in a nearby pub waiting for life to cross her way, instead of actually living. So I don´t know which the right way is, but his seems much closer to it than mine. I guess you can never know, and sometimes the most unexpected person can make a remarkable impression on you. And funny thing, he´ll never know. And we´ll never talk to each other again. We just happened to cross our paths for 15 minutes some night in a bar, and then dissappeared forever from eachother´s lives. And all I know about him is that his name (curiously, now that I think about it) is Julian.
It feels like I´m exactly where I was two months ago, but I´m not. I tried to keep myself busy, physically and mentally, and I´ve done so well that time has passed by without me noticing. I´ve done so well that I haven´t had time to visit my parents in weeks, watch my shows, read the news (except for my daily 6 minutes everyday from 8:50 to 8:56, when I quickly browse the bbc website while drinking my coffee) or blog.
I didn´t blog about goals, which I hope I will do sometime soon because the idea has been whirling in my head for quite a bit of time now. I didn´t blog about african immigration (yes, again). I didn´t blog about bonds (I will, too). I didn´t blog about my new lifestyle, hanging out even on mondays. I didn´t blog about guys, apartments and wine. I didn´t blog about my new friend, whom I told I wrote a blog, and how he mocked at me quoting "dear blog, today I woke up and had breakfast" - I denied doing that, and I´m aware it´s exactly what I´m doing right now. I didn´t blog about my next observership. I didn´t blog about the Ferguson trial.
I also didn´t mention the american kid I met just a few days ago, which is the only thing of the above I´m gonna write about now (shortly), because meeting him made me reconsider again my position with regard to american vs spanish teenagers. To say it briefly, I generally consider that spanish kids take everything as a joke, while americans take themselves too seriously. Though I must say I have no reason (not an objective one, at least) to think so, because I have never met an american teenager.
Anyways. This guy was 21. His family was originally from Poland but he was from Nashville, Tennessee. He was studying computer sciences, spending his last year in some school in Manchester. We started chatting about nothing and anything, and so we ended up talking about Darren Wilson and racism in the US. And from there we got to Obama and his immigration politics, and from there to international politics. And the way he talked, this kid, got me impressed. He was talking about such high matters, as if the world was his to opine - but his it was indeed, as it is mine, as it was mine when I was a 21 year old stupid who knew nothing about life and spent her weekend nights drinking kalimotxo in a nearby pub waiting for life to cross her way, instead of actually living. So I don´t know which the right way is, but his seems much closer to it than mine. I guess you can never know, and sometimes the most unexpected person can make a remarkable impression on you. And funny thing, he´ll never know. And we´ll never talk to each other again. We just happened to cross our paths for 15 minutes some night in a bar, and then dissappeared forever from eachother´s lives. And all I know about him is that his name (curiously, now that I think about it) is Julian.
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