I cannot say that I am clear headed right now. Have I been at all for the last year?
With all the hoohaw over the family unification, the visas, the lessons learned, mistakes made, obstacles,
magic has happened
and this special day that I have carried around in my head for months,
February 29th, Febraury 29th- something special is going to happen that day.
Will my baby be born, (thus, as I joke, saving us a birthday party until every fourth year!)
It sounds silly to say that I knew that Augustino would be arriving on that day, but somehow, I feel like I knew that he would. He will board a plane for the first time in his life and fly half way around the world, for two days, and arrive in Los Angeles Friday February 29th at 4:40pm.
NOW the adventure begins. All this other stuff was just killin time. Dreams, pontifications.
I may be ridiculous, but I get something in my head, and, I dunno, it becomes me.
Like having a wedding with a big belly.
Now I think I am pushing it. (haha)
Anyway, I think we will soon have many more pictures to post on here soon, so keep checking back over the next coupla weeks!
The baby can't hold on that long, and I don't think anybody has the time. But some of my worst nightmares have been about having a wedding ceremony, and no, I have never fantasized about my own. The closest thing I have come to fantasizing about it is to picture myself in a white, satiny dress that shows off my big, pregnant belly. A bouquet of cala lilies. The man I love. A ring? Something round. Maybe a random stone.
So, after the landing, we will take a day or so of rest, involving cuddling, staring at each other, spooning, but no talk! no catching up on the millions of stories.
Come Sunday, times up!
Welcome to America- you'll sleep when you're dead! We will begin to tour the land: "This is a mall, the heart of Southern California." Thats a tour that I fantasize about taking him on every time I go mallside. And what more fun than to buy a spiffy 'fit for our union (read wedding not strike)? Then to the beach, feel how cold it is, look at the rough waves of the Pacific, take some pictures, tour the maternity ward, and take my baby daddy to the courthouse and get hitched.
I believe in marriage. I believe the romance of marriage, the commitment of marriage, and the community unity (Ujamaa!) of binding such a love together in front of those who you love the most in the world, and who know you the best. Those who keep you in check, and give you support. Those who you inevitably end up hurting, over and over again without meaning to, goshdarnit.
But I believe that something like this will involve a little more planning, and well, when my dreams come true, I mean, these obsessive yet beautiful images that I get in my head dreams, when they happen, they usually involve more spontaneity and luck than planning. And that is what feels most perfect to me.
That and I don't believe in choosing between cake and ice cream. I'll have both, thank you.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Dear Bloggoramma,
Thank you x100 for always being there for me when I need a friend. When I need to organize my thoughts, whine, jump for joy, you are always there for me regardless of time zone, regardless of my insomnia, irregardless of vocab choices. My fingers don't hurt after typing, and my writing hasn't taken on 12 different styles until ending up a cross-eyed chicken scratch. You correct my spelling, organize my photos, waste no paper, and have no embarrassing food stains on white pages. I can tell you anything, and then you go and tell everybody. Its great. You really have fulfilled your purpose, so I thank you. And all who read and give me feed back, thank you.
In spite of taking maternity leave at my part-time job, all the baby books and baby prep, in spite of the late nights scanning documents at Kinko's or on the phone with the Embassy, there has been plenty to fill my head.
I got to go see two very inspiring authors speak this week. One is Greg Mortenson who wrote the book Three Cups of Tea, which I would buy and send to each person I know if I could. It is about his life path that brought him from growing up in Moshi, Tanzania (Augustino's home town!!) to trying to climb K2, saving lives, and ultimately, having his own life saved by the surrounding community who lives in the starkest conditions of poverty, and how his promise to build a school for the village children, turned into one of the most successful NGOs operating in that part of the world. He is amazing, his story is amazing, and you will be inspired and educated to read it, and certainly can contribute knowing that sending money to Greg would be the most efficient use of aid money you could imagine. Go to threecupsoftea.com to see why.
(Also, when I went to see him speak at the Huntington Beach High school gym, which was packed, I ran into a friend from Sonoma County, and was pleased, not just to see her, but that I saw her at an event that inspired me.)
The other author I met is Heather Flores, of Food not Lawns. She is a foodie-activist-superhero of saving souls through gardens, diving into dumpsters, and making food not bombs. She came to speak to the Holistic Moms group I associate with, and I followed her to a workshop she was doing at Pitzer college, one of the beautiful top-tier colleges clustered here in downtown Claremont, and so I am now connected with some space in a community garden to get my hands dirty, munch on herbs, crush and inhale lemon verbena, listen to the chickens, and share stories and potlucks with the bearded and beanied. I have been going a little crazy not having any soil under my fingernails or smelling the dirt for so long. So, after many spring days driving past blossoming tulip trees and other springtime blossoms, I pulled into a nursery and spent an hour drifting around, grinning foolishly and eating all the ripening clementine oranges, and finally picked out a lovely dwarf peach tree with pink blossoms that are about to pop and planted it for Elias with some strawberry plants below. It felt so good. It is raining these days, and I AM about to pop, but I now have this space to go to clear my head, and to bring my husband and baby, and to be there, with people like Lisa, who is also working a plot there and told me today about a Tent City settlement of 400+ homeless people here in Claremont that I knew nothing about.
So as the family comes together, and the world is coming together, the community is coming together, and this
is good.
In spite of taking maternity leave at my part-time job, all the baby books and baby prep, in spite of the late nights scanning documents at Kinko's or on the phone with the Embassy, there has been plenty to fill my head.
I got to go see two very inspiring authors speak this week. One is Greg Mortenson who wrote the book Three Cups of Tea, which I would buy and send to each person I know if I could. It is about his life path that brought him from growing up in Moshi, Tanzania (Augustino's home town!!) to trying to climb K2, saving lives, and ultimately, having his own life saved by the surrounding community who lives in the starkest conditions of poverty, and how his promise to build a school for the village children, turned into one of the most successful NGOs operating in that part of the world. He is amazing, his story is amazing, and you will be inspired and educated to read it, and certainly can contribute knowing that sending money to Greg would be the most efficient use of aid money you could imagine. Go to threecupsoftea.com to see why.
(Also, when I went to see him speak at the Huntington Beach High school gym, which was packed, I ran into a friend from Sonoma County, and was pleased, not just to see her, but that I saw her at an event that inspired me.)
The other author I met is Heather Flores, of Food not Lawns. She is a foodie-activist-superhero of saving souls through gardens, diving into dumpsters, and making food not bombs. She came to speak to the Holistic Moms group I associate with, and I followed her to a workshop she was doing at Pitzer college, one of the beautiful top-tier colleges clustered here in downtown Claremont, and so I am now connected with some space in a community garden to get my hands dirty, munch on herbs, crush and inhale lemon verbena, listen to the chickens, and share stories and potlucks with the bearded and beanied. I have been going a little crazy not having any soil under my fingernails or smelling the dirt for so long. So, after many spring days driving past blossoming tulip trees and other springtime blossoms, I pulled into a nursery and spent an hour drifting around, grinning foolishly and eating all the ripening clementine oranges, and finally picked out a lovely dwarf peach tree with pink blossoms that are about to pop and planted it for Elias with some strawberry plants below. It felt so good. It is raining these days, and I AM about to pop, but I now have this space to go to clear my head, and to bring my husband and baby, and to be there, with people like Lisa, who is also working a plot there and told me today about a Tent City settlement of 400+ homeless people here in Claremont that I knew nothing about.
So as the family comes together, and the world is coming together, the community is coming together, and this
is good.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Back to the village...
This was written one night, laying under the mosquito netting, after Augustino had killed all the mosquitos that always snuck in. The cheap foam mattress pulled us together towards the center, and downwards toward the planks of wood that lay across the bed frame. The kerosene lamp was turned down low, but the room still smelled of its smoke, and of rotting wood being eaten by the termites. The cement floor was cool and dusty, my clothes stacked on shelves made of sticks and twine, with mouse droppings that inevitable appeared in the morning. Everything was quiet. Wait, some crickets. In the distance, the cry of a baby, the bleating of a goat, and I wrote,
If you werent here right now, I would be asleep, or I would be reading,
I might be worried about what would happen after a few months, after a few years.
Where will I be, and with whom?
I have wonderful memories,
I have wonderful friends.
I have a wonderful family.
But…..
Now, that you are staying here with me,
I think,
Thank god for the minerals..
That kept you here.
I enjoy right now,
And I try to always
ALWAYS
Enjoy right now,
With or without you,
But nevertheless,
My thoughts
Begin to drift into the future,
I cannot help it,
And that is where I find you.
Here and there.
And it makes me happy.
on my cheap foam mattress.
I very well may have two boys due on February 29th.
Thats fine with me.
I still believe I can have it all.
If you werent here right now, I would be asleep, or I would be reading,
I might be worried about what would happen after a few months, after a few years.
Where will I be, and with whom?
I have wonderful memories,
I have wonderful friends.
I have a wonderful family.
But…..
Now, that you are staying here with me,
I think,
Thank god for the minerals..
That kept you here.
I enjoy right now,
And I try to always
ALWAYS
Enjoy right now,
With or without you,
But nevertheless,
My thoughts
Begin to drift into the future,
I cannot help it,
And that is where I find you.
Here and there.
And it makes me happy.
on my cheap foam mattress.
I very well may have two boys due on February 29th.
Thats fine with me.
I still believe I can have it all.
Friday, February 15, 2008
NOIR
Hello mon petite papillon,
Quelque fois, je pense du Madam McClellan. Je record un jour, le garcon et l'enfant d'elle avez arrivee dans le lycee. Sa garcon, il est noir.
J'ai pensee q'elles sont tres belles: tous le famille.
I really haven't spoken french since high school, I hope all that is put-together-able.
But I have recently watched two movies , Paris Je t'aime and The Diving Bell et le Papillon.
I don't even know what the diving bell is in English, much less French, so...
Anyway, I harbor dreams that I will still someday have a need to learn the lovely language.
I think you would like both movies very much. I especially hope you see and love Paris Je t'aime,
(or was it Je t'aime Paris? Je ne sais pas)
I went through some hard days, aching with all my body and soul that I wasn't in Africa.
Doing better now though, really its just about choosing to believe that I am in the right place.
Nothing new, I suppose.
Elias is doing wonderful, we are healthy, I can't complain, never could,
Tino is in Dar es Salaam, and trying to get things processed. Maybe we will have some news before the end of the month.
Things take time, so I am not sure who will make it here first.
Everyone seems ready for me to give birth but I am not.
Of course, all will be updated as soon as there is news to tell.
My sweet,
how are you?
I am glad you are warm inside. Is winter more bearable now?
How are your days?
Sometimes I want to send you boxes of Cheez-its, in little portion sized packages, of course.
The Diving Bell movie tonight said something about the dangers of believing in personal miracles. It makes you self important.
I am an egoist. I notice it in how many sentences I begin using the word "I" when I write.
I find myself looking for personal miracles to confirm my existence and every action. My need for self importance....
A sign of weakness I guess? Is it the crutch the comes in later years to replace religion that I accused of a playing the crutch role when I was very young?
God, miracles, self/Self. No difference, just a continuity of opinion, or semantics that makes us more comfortable with ourselves as the years go on. And makes others more comfortable with us, as we can be understood.
My life is finding new color with miracles....
And finding patience....
and the internet...
Once upon a time, I thought of everyone I met, everyone in the world, as a competitor. I mean, I couldn't know of someone without comparing myself negatively to them.
That is the worst kind of egotism, and I gladly exchange it for a new one, no matter how much an indication of my continued weakness.
If it is.
Whatever.
Bon soir mon chou-chou.
PS I heard today that in Barak Obama's first book, he had to choose to be Black, raised by his white mother, and is 50/50.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Valentine's Day
When I found out that Tino's visa would be "expedited" I started getting hopeful that he might even be here today. But, another day has passed alone of seeing beautiful things: women walking in tall 'Valentine's Day" heels, arm and arm with boyfriends, taking them out to one of the many Claremont restaurants, couples making out in cars, pretty clouds through an evening window, and the gluttonous amount of pink and red foo-foo and sugar.
And "Paris J'taime." A gem of a movie, je pense.
But it is never alone. He is with me with every thought, and Elias is with me with every rush of sugar that makes him start to wiggle and squirm. (Thats right, I am no purist. Bah!)
Lately, as I so quickly find myself a rock of positivity, or banging my head on the door and wailing franticly (truly.)
I wonder to myself, am I weak or strong?
I am weak when I am weak, and I try my hardest to come back to strong.
But what is weak and what is strong?
Honestly, I have pretty clearly identified for myself the difference:
Weak is when I am squirming under my skin to be somewhere I am not.
I am filled with desperation and doubt. I question why, WHY AM I HERE?!!! Why not there, with him, to patiently go through the waiting process, rather than all the anxiety, to have eyes watching our baby grow inside of me, eyes that are just as thrilled as mine, hands to feel him move, a beautiful voice to sing him lullabies, and lips to kiss his little feet when they dance around. I look up plane tickets online, and think, it is not too late, I will lie to the airports, tell them I am only 7 months, jump on a plane, give birth in some Moshi hospital. I am the healthiest pregnant woman I know, be darned! We will visit with his family, and fly back with together, side by side, baby in arms. We should be together the first time he boards a plane and flies half-way across the planet! I should be there to see my friends who united in Zanzibar, I should be swimming in the Indian Ocean, and walking through the banana trees.
I can romanticize this over and over, and as a friend of mine tells me, I can have another child there. Thats one way to try to calm down.
But regret. Regret and longing for what is not, and what can no longer be, are WEAK.
I am strong when I know that to love is to hurt. To be an adult is to make decisions and make the best of them. It is to have faith that no matter what happens
(like, WILL Bush delay his trip a week later in order to fight Congress for his right to tap our wires, further delaying operations at the US Embassy in Tanzania, where he is expected, and thus further delaying Tino's arrival? Pest!!)
it will work out. No matter what happens, if I am present, here, where I am, making the most of it, there will be RESULTS. I was tempted to say "MAGIC," and I don't know if either word is correct. Where there is presence of body and mind, there is LIFE.
For instance, I have a class tomorrow morning on African History. It is a Friday morning, and lucky for us, both my dad and step-mom who went to visit Tanzania have the time and interest to drive here and attend the class with me.
It is a great opportunity to be with them, one of my BIG GOALS of being here, and as we become used to seeing each other (since I've lived far away for 13 years), and used to the idea of my motherhood (it was a surprise, to say the least!) my charmed life becomes more real. The class is filled with a crowd of retired Claremonters (self proclaimed Claremontsers) who are mostly ex-missionary liberals. Great combo, I say.
I have certain fantasies regarding my life here. We are in the hub of a several well-reputed universities, and living alongside a great many older citizens like those I described earlier. We are in the throws of a sensationalized presidential race, which is in danger of losing any and all substance, if it hasn't already, and there seems to be (as usual) a lot of confusion in the sound bytes that are picked up about the candidates. What will happen between McCain, Clinton and Obama? Can we take California's history as a democratic state for granted? Why do we keep drawing these Conservative/Liberal GOP/Democrat lines anyway, and who can accurately describe McCain's positions and how does he really stand up to Reagan, and for that matter to Clinton, or to Obama who is trying to be electable to republicans?
Can we bring together people in this community across generations and across political parties to discuss these issues? Can we host debates/forums where we can intelligently and fearlessly discuss the issues? (Without the American tendency to remain too PC, or to be defensive/offensive?)
How about all the people around here who are stuck in Condos? All the pavement, and lack of outdoor time? Can we take a lot, maybe one of the many retired quarries, and build a community garden space? Or a school garden?
I think so, and these are things that I CAN try to do.
In fact, I can also further study Trigger Point therapy for pain relief (my Clinic is going to put a big add in the Yellow Pages for my practice,) I can acquire and utilize essential oils for my baby and the household, I can take a watercolor course, I can join a runners group, I can go sailing with my brother-in-law,
I can be the change I wish to see in the world,
while I wait.
To be a wife and a mother.
And "Paris J'taime." A gem of a movie, je pense.
But it is never alone. He is with me with every thought, and Elias is with me with every rush of sugar that makes him start to wiggle and squirm. (Thats right, I am no purist. Bah!)
Lately, as I so quickly find myself a rock of positivity, or banging my head on the door and wailing franticly (truly.)
I wonder to myself, am I weak or strong?
I am weak when I am weak, and I try my hardest to come back to strong.
But what is weak and what is strong?
Honestly, I have pretty clearly identified for myself the difference:
Weak is when I am squirming under my skin to be somewhere I am not.
I am filled with desperation and doubt. I question why, WHY AM I HERE?!!! Why not there, with him, to patiently go through the waiting process, rather than all the anxiety, to have eyes watching our baby grow inside of me, eyes that are just as thrilled as mine, hands to feel him move, a beautiful voice to sing him lullabies, and lips to kiss his little feet when they dance around. I look up plane tickets online, and think, it is not too late, I will lie to the airports, tell them I am only 7 months, jump on a plane, give birth in some Moshi hospital. I am the healthiest pregnant woman I know, be darned! We will visit with his family, and fly back with together, side by side, baby in arms. We should be together the first time he boards a plane and flies half-way across the planet! I should be there to see my friends who united in Zanzibar, I should be swimming in the Indian Ocean, and walking through the banana trees.
I can romanticize this over and over, and as a friend of mine tells me, I can have another child there. Thats one way to try to calm down.
But regret. Regret and longing for what is not, and what can no longer be, are WEAK.
I am strong when I know that to love is to hurt. To be an adult is to make decisions and make the best of them. It is to have faith that no matter what happens
(like, WILL Bush delay his trip a week later in order to fight Congress for his right to tap our wires, further delaying operations at the US Embassy in Tanzania, where he is expected, and thus further delaying Tino's arrival? Pest!!)
it will work out. No matter what happens, if I am present, here, where I am, making the most of it, there will be RESULTS. I was tempted to say "MAGIC," and I don't know if either word is correct. Where there is presence of body and mind, there is LIFE.
For instance, I have a class tomorrow morning on African History. It is a Friday morning, and lucky for us, both my dad and step-mom who went to visit Tanzania have the time and interest to drive here and attend the class with me.
It is a great opportunity to be with them, one of my BIG GOALS of being here, and as we become used to seeing each other (since I've lived far away for 13 years), and used to the idea of my motherhood (it was a surprise, to say the least!) my charmed life becomes more real. The class is filled with a crowd of retired Claremonters (self proclaimed Claremontsers) who are mostly ex-missionary liberals. Great combo, I say.
I have certain fantasies regarding my life here. We are in the hub of a several well-reputed universities, and living alongside a great many older citizens like those I described earlier. We are in the throws of a sensationalized presidential race, which is in danger of losing any and all substance, if it hasn't already, and there seems to be (as usual) a lot of confusion in the sound bytes that are picked up about the candidates. What will happen between McCain, Clinton and Obama? Can we take California's history as a democratic state for granted? Why do we keep drawing these Conservative/Liberal GOP/Democrat lines anyway, and who can accurately describe McCain's positions and how does he really stand up to Reagan, and for that matter to Clinton, or to Obama who is trying to be electable to republicans?
Can we bring together people in this community across generations and across political parties to discuss these issues? Can we host debates/forums where we can intelligently and fearlessly discuss the issues? (Without the American tendency to remain too PC, or to be defensive/offensive?)
How about all the people around here who are stuck in Condos? All the pavement, and lack of outdoor time? Can we take a lot, maybe one of the many retired quarries, and build a community garden space? Or a school garden?
I think so, and these are things that I CAN try to do.
In fact, I can also further study Trigger Point therapy for pain relief (my Clinic is going to put a big add in the Yellow Pages for my practice,) I can acquire and utilize essential oils for my baby and the household, I can take a watercolor course, I can join a runners group, I can go sailing with my brother-in-law,
I can be the change I wish to see in the world,
while I wait.
To be a wife and a mother.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Personal journal entry on insecurity/plans
I spent an entire day yesterday longing for the past few months of my life to have been in Tanzania rather than here. Oh, it was so hard to get over. It was beautiful weather, I spent the day shopping at an outdoor mall, that I am sure Tino will go ga-ga over when he gets here. Strollers were everywhere, carrying babies, multiples, and even small dogs. None of it made me ga-ga.
I wasn't shocked at all the consumerism when I got here. I knew it was here, and it has only grown, in spite of the downturn of the economy and obscene amount of money going towards war instead of building communities.
Many of my friends in Tanzania, good people trying to make it work with their families, spent large amounts of time apart, sacrificing the joys of togetherness for the hope of a financially secure future. In some cases, it might be a sad additional contributer to the spread of HIV (separated families.)
I continue to think of what the best choices are for my personal adventure in life, including enough time to love and cuddle with baby and husband, enough time to enjoy laughs with friends and family, enough time to breathe fresh air, and to improve the lives of those I love and those in my community.
Wishing things were different is a natural phenomenon of life, but I've been feeling so grounded and so strong lately, that it really shook me up. I spent all day idealizing what it would have been like to have gone back and lived with Tino's parents at their mountain shamba (farm) on the foothills of Kili, helping around the house, staying fit, and bonding with his family. Tino would visit from Arusha on the weekends. His sister in law that lives there too, who is a spunky beauty from Kenya, just gave birth yesterday and it would have been great to be there with her, and to share our experiences. An opportunity I am not sure when I will have again. Instead of taking the 5,000 Peace Corps to survive in TZ for my pregnancy, I brought it home, and in a frantic rage to take advantage of opportunities to set up income possibilities (and realize lingering dreams) I spent the money living for a few weeks in San Francisco and getting certified in massage. Then I had no money to go back.
I lamented my drive to do do do.
Of course, Tino was lovely when I called him crying and I really
don't ever want to be apart again.
During our separation, I landed a successful gig as a massage therapist here in Southern California, learning a lot and helping a lot of people with chronic pain. I have Cleared a teaching credential and I can't help but think of what to do next.
I am afraid of being too busy, while I am afraid of not taking advantage of time and opportunity to get ahead. From immigrants to America, I still learn that America is a truly a land of opportunity if you are willing to work hard. This is a positive perspective to what I usually see as a rat race, paying a elephant portion of the paycheck every month on housing, not to mention taxes and healthcare. We are left with toys to distract and put on a credit card.
I don't want to get caught up in this. I don't love shopping enough.
But there is education to take advantage of, though it might mean working of loans for the rest of eternity, and while your chained for an eternity, you might as well buy a house.
I guess today, Monday, I am still lingering in yesterdays lack of security.
In the past, I've had fantasies about going into health care and incorporating my experience and belief in holistic living with allopathic care and international needs. On my way to becoming a teacher and putting Tino through school, I still think about it, especially as I continue to learn about healing through massage.
I wonder sometimes if it would be a waste of time to teach for just a few years, only to start up with school again. When would I actually begin to master a career, changing so often?? When will I have time to raise my son (future children??) in the rural setting that is part of what I love and part of their heritage?
If it takes Tino four to five years to become a nurse, I can work on taking the necessary prerequisites to get into a Nursing course now. By the time he is done, we could both get good jobs in Moshi (hospital and international school respectively), work for a couple of years, before coming back to the states to pursue a Masters in Nursing, renting a little place in Northern California, perhaps. From there, our family could fulfill dreams in any part of the world.
But in doing so we will always sacrificing being somewhere, with someone we love.
As for now, I feel much better getting it out. Often, I am embarrassed to discuss my wishes for the future, fearing that I will fail, or that I am making mis-steps.
But now, I feel strong again. There is nothing like pregnancy: it is the embodiment of possibility. Everything is possible, including, who little Elias will be, how well Tino and I will get on once he gets here, how exhausted I will be, how I might not get a teaching job, and well, basically failure. Failure is an option.
But I have had enough of being a dreamer and not trying to make the dreams come true.
I have wanted to be a language/science teacher in high school with a black international husband and a cute son. I have wanted to be a teacher and teach some yoga classes on the side. I have wanted to experience teaching and go on to work internationally (Medicines sans Frontier) as a health worker.
I have wanted to be a catalyst for someone to come to the United States and show me the beauty of opportunity.
I have wanted to be closer to my family and give more support to my mom.
I have wanted to raise a child while taking classes and doing massage for income.
That will be my next few months.
I have wanted to participate in running a marathon. A half.
By summer time, we will be bonded and happy and healthy as a family, I will be teaching yoga and running a marathon, Tino will have done English prep and will be enrolled to begin his AA, I will have a teaching job, and we will have a workable system of childcare and transportation.
Manifest THIS!
I wasn't shocked at all the consumerism when I got here. I knew it was here, and it has only grown, in spite of the downturn of the economy and obscene amount of money going towards war instead of building communities.
Many of my friends in Tanzania, good people trying to make it work with their families, spent large amounts of time apart, sacrificing the joys of togetherness for the hope of a financially secure future. In some cases, it might be a sad additional contributer to the spread of HIV (separated families.)
I continue to think of what the best choices are for my personal adventure in life, including enough time to love and cuddle with baby and husband, enough time to enjoy laughs with friends and family, enough time to breathe fresh air, and to improve the lives of those I love and those in my community.
Wishing things were different is a natural phenomenon of life, but I've been feeling so grounded and so strong lately, that it really shook me up. I spent all day idealizing what it would have been like to have gone back and lived with Tino's parents at their mountain shamba (farm) on the foothills of Kili, helping around the house, staying fit, and bonding with his family. Tino would visit from Arusha on the weekends. His sister in law that lives there too, who is a spunky beauty from Kenya, just gave birth yesterday and it would have been great to be there with her, and to share our experiences. An opportunity I am not sure when I will have again. Instead of taking the 5,000 Peace Corps to survive in TZ for my pregnancy, I brought it home, and in a frantic rage to take advantage of opportunities to set up income possibilities (and realize lingering dreams) I spent the money living for a few weeks in San Francisco and getting certified in massage. Then I had no money to go back.
I lamented my drive to do do do.
Of course, Tino was lovely when I called him crying and I really
don't ever want to be apart again.
During our separation, I landed a successful gig as a massage therapist here in Southern California, learning a lot and helping a lot of people with chronic pain. I have Cleared a teaching credential and I can't help but think of what to do next.
I am afraid of being too busy, while I am afraid of not taking advantage of time and opportunity to get ahead. From immigrants to America, I still learn that America is a truly a land of opportunity if you are willing to work hard. This is a positive perspective to what I usually see as a rat race, paying a elephant portion of the paycheck every month on housing, not to mention taxes and healthcare. We are left with toys to distract and put on a credit card.
I don't want to get caught up in this. I don't love shopping enough.
But there is education to take advantage of, though it might mean working of loans for the rest of eternity, and while your chained for an eternity, you might as well buy a house.
I guess today, Monday, I am still lingering in yesterdays lack of security.
In the past, I've had fantasies about going into health care and incorporating my experience and belief in holistic living with allopathic care and international needs. On my way to becoming a teacher and putting Tino through school, I still think about it, especially as I continue to learn about healing through massage.
I wonder sometimes if it would be a waste of time to teach for just a few years, only to start up with school again. When would I actually begin to master a career, changing so often?? When will I have time to raise my son (future children??) in the rural setting that is part of what I love and part of their heritage?
If it takes Tino four to five years to become a nurse, I can work on taking the necessary prerequisites to get into a Nursing course now. By the time he is done, we could both get good jobs in Moshi (hospital and international school respectively), work for a couple of years, before coming back to the states to pursue a Masters in Nursing, renting a little place in Northern California, perhaps. From there, our family could fulfill dreams in any part of the world.
But in doing so we will always sacrificing being somewhere, with someone we love.
As for now, I feel much better getting it out. Often, I am embarrassed to discuss my wishes for the future, fearing that I will fail, or that I am making mis-steps.
But now, I feel strong again. There is nothing like pregnancy: it is the embodiment of possibility. Everything is possible, including, who little Elias will be, how well Tino and I will get on once he gets here, how exhausted I will be, how I might not get a teaching job, and well, basically failure. Failure is an option.
But I have had enough of being a dreamer and not trying to make the dreams come true.
I have wanted to be a language/science teacher in high school with a black international husband and a cute son. I have wanted to be a teacher and teach some yoga classes on the side. I have wanted to experience teaching and go on to work internationally (Medicines sans Frontier) as a health worker.
I have wanted to be a catalyst for someone to come to the United States and show me the beauty of opportunity.
I have wanted to be closer to my family and give more support to my mom.
I have wanted to raise a child while taking classes and doing massage for income.
That will be my next few months.
I have wanted to participate in running a marathon. A half.
By summer time, we will be bonded and happy and healthy as a family, I will be teaching yoga and running a marathon, Tino will have done English prep and will be enrolled to begin his AA, I will have a teaching job, and we will have a workable system of childcare and transportation.
Manifest THIS!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Fwd:Fwrd:Forward: Backward?
There is maybe a little too much in the news with the primaries, but a positive of what it portrays is American faith in elections, and interest in seeing a change in the government. It also shows our interest in sensationalism, fame, gossip, and competition, but whatever.
I am pretty sucked in too, in spite of the fact that I think we give any person too much credit if we think they can make such a difference as president. Maybe it is an ancient longing for a hero, a king, a mascot who represents who we are. The president does not work alone, and so much of what he accomplishes during his 'reign' is determined by a domino line of circumstances that was set up before he got into office.
Anyway, sorry to post political stuff twice in a row, but I just received this email, and I thought I would post it. It is too prevalent in the good ol USA that people really opine this kind of extreme... racism. I would be laughing if I wasn't crying, as everything the email states is negated on the very website it cites for validity.
This was forwarded to me by a friend who served with us in the Peace Corps in Tanzania, she didn't stay for all two years, should she have stayed longer?
My response to her:
Eileen,
Do you believe this?
How do you feel about Muslims in America in general?
I think that this kind of information increases the kind of stereotypes that fill the planet with hatred, which is the express reason why we went into the Peace Corps. Half of my neighbors were Muslim in my village, which is the experience of Barak Hussein Obama while living in Indonesia.
What does RADICAL Muslim mean?
How about the RADICAL Christians,
and Christian Fundamentalists?
How different is Christianity from Islam anyway,
check the history,
the essence of the two are much more alike than different and
I feel that it is shameful of us to continuously make Others out to be Evil.
There are many checks and balances in out government.
We should have used them more with Bush,
we should be sure to use them with any president. We must be sure that the government is transparent, no matter what color, gender, sexual orientation, religion or political party the pres represents.
Some care if the pres is Mormon. why?
Some care if he is Baptist, Evangelical, or Catholic.
We care if he is female, black, too young, too old, not black enough, not good hair, and so on.
The president can only do so much.
We have to look at what he represents, and try to represent ourselves the change we wish to see in the world.
For me, Barak symbolizes America. If my son, born to a Green Party member, Athiest from california, and an immigrant tribesman from Tanzania, can know that Barak was president when he was a baby, he would have a wonderful example.
Did you know that Bush is finally going to Tanzania? He will be in 5 countries in E. Africa for six days. How can the man get a clear picture of anything in that kind of a whirlwind trip. He might as well make a conference call. And while he is there, he is avoiding what was a big ally for America in Africa, Kenya, who represented economic progress, political stability, and handed over Muslims suspected of terrorists links.
Bush sends not his condolences, and tries not to help reestablish peace and democracy.
Not even a visit, no meeting with Odinga and Kibaki.
But he will spend lives and trillions of dollars to 'establish peace and democracy' in the middle east.
Do you think he has established Peace and Democracy?
Do you think that Barak is going to infiltrate our country and destroy it?
How well do you think Bush did as president?
I hope to hear your thoughts.
I am pretty sucked in too, in spite of the fact that I think we give any person too much credit if we think they can make such a difference as president. Maybe it is an ancient longing for a hero, a king, a mascot who represents who we are. The president does not work alone, and so much of what he accomplishes during his 'reign' is determined by a domino line of circumstances that was set up before he got into office.
Anyway, sorry to post political stuff twice in a row, but I just received this email, and I thought I would post it. It is too prevalent in the good ol USA that people really opine this kind of extreme... racism. I would be laughing if I wasn't crying, as everything the email states is negated on the very website it cites for validity.
This was forwarded to me by a friend who served with us in the Peace Corps in Tanzania, she didn't stay for all two years, should she have stayed longer?
From Within???
READ THIS: Don't wait until it's too late.
Who is Barack Hussein Obama?
Very interesting, and something that should be considered in your choice.
If you do not ever forward anything else, please forward this to all your contacts...
this is very scary to think of what lies ahead of us here in our own United States...
better heed this and pray about it and share it.
We checked this out on " snopes.com". It is factual. Check for yourself.
Who is Barack Hussein Obama? Probable U. S. presidential candidate, Barack
Hussein Obama was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, to Barack Hussein Obama, Sr.,
a black MUSLIM from Nyangoma-Kogel, Kenya and Ann Dunham, a white ATHEIST
from Wichita, Kansas.
Obama's parents met at the University of Hawaii. When Obama was two years old,
his parents divorced. His father returned to Kenya. His mother then married Lolo Soetoro, a RADICAL Muslim from Indonesia. When Obama was 6 years old, the family relocated to Indonesia. Obama attended a MUSLIM school in Jakarta. He also spent two years in a Catholic school.
Obama takes great care to conceal the fact that he is a Muslim. He is quick to point out that, "He was once a Muslim, but that he also attended Catholic school."
Obama's political handlers are attempting to make it appear that he is not a radical. Obama's introduction to Islam came via his father, and that this influence was temporary at best. In reality, the senior Obama returned to Kenya soon after the divorce, and never again had any direct influence over his son's education.
Lolo Soetoro, the second husband of Obama's mother, Ann Dunham, introduced his stepson to Islam. Obama was enrolled in a Wahabi school in Jakarta. Wahabism is the RADICAL teaching that is followed by the Muslim terrorists who are now waging Jihad against the western world.
Since it is politically expedient to be a CHRISTIAN when seeking major public office in the United States, Barack Hussein Obama has joined the United Church of Christ in an attempt to downplay his Muslim background. ALSO, keep in mind that when he was sworn into office he DID NOT use the Holy Bible, but instead used the Koran.
Barack Hussein Obama will NOT recite the Pledge of Allegiance nor will he show
any reverence for our flag. While others place their hands over their hearts,
Obama turns his back to the flag and slouches.
Let us all remain alert concerning Obama's expected presidential candidacy. The Muslims have said they plan on destroying the US from the inside out. What better way to start than at the highest level - through the President of the United States, one of their own!!!!
Please forward to everyone you know. Would you want this man leading our country?...... NOT ME!!!
My response to her:
Eileen,
Do you believe this?
How do you feel about Muslims in America in general?
I think that this kind of information increases the kind of stereotypes that fill the planet with hatred, which is the express reason why we went into the Peace Corps. Half of my neighbors were Muslim in my village, which is the experience of Barak Hussein Obama while living in Indonesia.
What does RADICAL Muslim mean?
How about the RADICAL Christians,
and Christian Fundamentalists?
How different is Christianity from Islam anyway,
check the history,
the essence of the two are much more alike than different and
I feel that it is shameful of us to continuously make Others out to be Evil.
There are many checks and balances in out government.
We should have used them more with Bush,
we should be sure to use them with any president. We must be sure that the government is transparent, no matter what color, gender, sexual orientation, religion or political party the pres represents.
Some care if the pres is Mormon. why?
Some care if he is Baptist, Evangelical, or Catholic.
We care if he is female, black, too young, too old, not black enough, not good hair, and so on.
The president can only do so much.
We have to look at what he represents, and try to represent ourselves the change we wish to see in the world.
For me, Barak symbolizes America. If my son, born to a Green Party member, Athiest from california, and an immigrant tribesman from Tanzania, can know that Barak was president when he was a baby, he would have a wonderful example.
Did you know that Bush is finally going to Tanzania? He will be in 5 countries in E. Africa for six days. How can the man get a clear picture of anything in that kind of a whirlwind trip. He might as well make a conference call. And while he is there, he is avoiding what was a big ally for America in Africa, Kenya, who represented economic progress, political stability, and handed over Muslims suspected of terrorists links.
Bush sends not his condolences, and tries not to help reestablish peace and democracy.
Not even a visit, no meeting with Odinga and Kibaki.
But he will spend lives and trillions of dollars to 'establish peace and democracy' in the middle east.
Do you think he has established Peace and Democracy?
Do you think that Barak is going to infiltrate our country and destroy it?
How well do you think Bush did as president?
I hope to hear your thoughts.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Father or son
The race is on!
(and I am not talking about Super Tuesday)
Who will arrive first?
Tino or his son?
~The doc says Elias is due to be born on the 29th.
~Tino has his visa interview at the US Embassy in Dar es Salaam on the 20th.
A couple days after the interview, if all goes well, he should get his visa, then he needs to get a plane ticket, pack, and say good bye to family and friends, and make it here safely on his first plane flight ever, flying alone across the world.
If he doesn't get lost somewhere in Europe, he might just be here the first week of March.
And Elias and I continue as our usual harmonious team. Besides a little diaphragm pressure yesterday, we feel like we could hang out like this another month. I have been doing mad yoga (with some good teaching prospects for post baby), lots of massage calls, lots of walking, and craving Acai protein smoothies. All in all, I still feel great.
So who will get here first?
It is looking like Elias is ahead, but the wise little one might have some daddy sympathy and hold out till the first week of March.
Place your bets. (Ha! And people actually get so into the Super Bowl?? We got a whole spread here, you can choose your square based on date instead of score. How fun.)
Even as Immigration is as All-American as Football, allow me to continue the unique thread of American patriotism and Thrash My President.
You see, it is Bush's fault that my fiance won't be here any earlier:
W. is planning to visit 5 African countries; Benin, Tanzania, Rwanda, Ghana and Liberia, and the US Embassy in TZ's capital is not processing visas as they are on security lock down awaiting the arrival of this very unpopular president, who, traveling to Africa for only the second time in his presidency, calls it the jewel in the crown of his legacy. Nothing else he can claim but having poured 15 billion into the highly controversial PEPFAR (see earlier post on HIV in Africa for more). Now, amidst American war debt and economic crises, he proposes to double that money. Fine, fine Bushie. They will gladly take your money, but you have no respect from even the people of Africa.
To take some quotes from the Embassy website in Tanzania,
Bush has been "very attentive" toward Africa, "but in a way that provides dignity to the Africans."
Sure, he has given money, but with his own moral and religious stipulations that deny African realities.
The Embassy site says,
"If you look at the countries he has chosen -- they are all stable democracies and open markets. These are precisely the countries that need to be supported."
Sure, but there is a crisis in what was formally the 'Beacon of Stability' in East Africa: Kenya's breach in democracy and resulting civil unrest. Even though he has a chance, our leader, the supposed leader of the 'Beacon of Democracy' for the world, will be too busy doing a 5-countries-in-6-days PR tour, rather than helping to negotiate for peace.
Spending some time trying to be a positive force of influence in Kenya would be 'attentive' and 'dignifying' to 'precisely the countries that need to be supported.'
Ok, so Bush's dad isn't from Kenya (but his dad does have plenty of friends named Hussein!) but Barak Obama, amidst being a rising star with a ways to go in the most intense primary race in history, has managed to stay active in trying to pursue diplomacy and promote peace in Kenya, communicating on a daily basis with African leaders.
So I laugh. How ironic is it that this Bushman can continuously annoy me so? He spends his whole presidency at the ranch, and all of sudden decides to take a six day jaunt to the jewel of his legacy right when I need some shit done, and a week of time has never been longer (and at the same time shorter.)
There is no other reaction than to laugh. Its funny.
It reminds me of the time when I finally had my own legal visa to visit Cuba, and what happened? The Pope decided to share my itinerary. Last minute, three days before I was scheduled to depart, (and the day of my birthday) I got a call saying, sorry, Fidel pulled all visas, Security lock down. Maybe you would like to go to Spain instead?
Fuck no. The trip turned out to be good anyway: I kept my ticket for Cancun and rode through Chiapas with some motorcycle hotties from Guadalajara. Life is great like that, it is what you make of what you get. and luck! Cuba happened a few years later, a wonderful wonderful trip. And Tino, maybe he will get a ride back to the States in Bush's personal jet!
So at this point, I just smile. I have everything I need. A supportive family and supportive collection of women to help me through labor. (see earlier blogs for views on female support in labor) If Tino is there, it is simply another miracle. If he is not, it will be beautiful to present his son to him at the international gate at LAX just a few days later. (and if he is denied, well, I will enjoy flying back to Africa and seeing all my besties that are still there, and walking through the misty coffee and banana farms at our home at the Kilimanjaro foothills in Moshi while we figure out plan D. or G.)
I know that, in spite of my lack of a traditional plan, I have done everything I could to prepare: school and jobs and community, all lined up.
But the best preparation of all is being ready for anything.
So, who wants to place the first bet?
(and I am not talking about Super Tuesday)
Who will arrive first?
Tino or his son?
~The doc says Elias is due to be born on the 29th.
~Tino has his visa interview at the US Embassy in Dar es Salaam on the 20th.
A couple days after the interview, if all goes well, he should get his visa, then he needs to get a plane ticket, pack, and say good bye to family and friends, and make it here safely on his first plane flight ever, flying alone across the world.
If he doesn't get lost somewhere in Europe, he might just be here the first week of March.
And Elias and I continue as our usual harmonious team. Besides a little diaphragm pressure yesterday, we feel like we could hang out like this another month. I have been doing mad yoga (with some good teaching prospects for post baby), lots of massage calls, lots of walking, and craving Acai protein smoothies. All in all, I still feel great.
So who will get here first?
It is looking like Elias is ahead, but the wise little one might have some daddy sympathy and hold out till the first week of March.
Place your bets. (Ha! And people actually get so into the Super Bowl?? We got a whole spread here, you can choose your square based on date instead of score. How fun.)
Even as Immigration is as All-American as Football, allow me to continue the unique thread of American patriotism and Thrash My President.
You see, it is Bush's fault that my fiance won't be here any earlier:
W. is planning to visit 5 African countries; Benin, Tanzania, Rwanda, Ghana and Liberia, and the US Embassy in TZ's capital is not processing visas as they are on security lock down awaiting the arrival of this very unpopular president, who, traveling to Africa for only the second time in his presidency, calls it the jewel in the crown of his legacy. Nothing else he can claim but having poured 15 billion into the highly controversial PEPFAR (see earlier post on HIV in Africa for more). Now, amidst American war debt and economic crises, he proposes to double that money. Fine, fine Bushie. They will gladly take your money, but you have no respect from even the people of Africa.
To take some quotes from the Embassy website in Tanzania,
Bush has been "very attentive" toward Africa, "but in a way that provides dignity to the Africans."
Sure, he has given money, but with his own moral and religious stipulations that deny African realities.
The Embassy site says,
"If you look at the countries he has chosen -- they are all stable democracies and open markets. These are precisely the countries that need to be supported."
Sure, but there is a crisis in what was formally the 'Beacon of Stability' in East Africa: Kenya's breach in democracy and resulting civil unrest. Even though he has a chance, our leader, the supposed leader of the 'Beacon of Democracy' for the world, will be too busy doing a 5-countries-in-6-days PR tour, rather than helping to negotiate for peace.
Spending some time trying to be a positive force of influence in Kenya would be 'attentive' and 'dignifying' to 'precisely the countries that need to be supported.'
Ok, so Bush's dad isn't from Kenya (but his dad does have plenty of friends named Hussein!) but Barak Obama, amidst being a rising star with a ways to go in the most intense primary race in history, has managed to stay active in trying to pursue diplomacy and promote peace in Kenya, communicating on a daily basis with African leaders.
So I laugh. How ironic is it that this Bushman can continuously annoy me so? He spends his whole presidency at the ranch, and all of sudden decides to take a six day jaunt to the jewel of his legacy right when I need some shit done, and a week of time has never been longer (and at the same time shorter.)
There is no other reaction than to laugh. Its funny.
It reminds me of the time when I finally had my own legal visa to visit Cuba, and what happened? The Pope decided to share my itinerary. Last minute, three days before I was scheduled to depart, (and the day of my birthday) I got a call saying, sorry, Fidel pulled all visas, Security lock down. Maybe you would like to go to Spain instead?
Fuck no. The trip turned out to be good anyway: I kept my ticket for Cancun and rode through Chiapas with some motorcycle hotties from Guadalajara. Life is great like that, it is what you make of what you get. and luck! Cuba happened a few years later, a wonderful wonderful trip. And Tino, maybe he will get a ride back to the States in Bush's personal jet!
So at this point, I just smile. I have everything I need. A supportive family and supportive collection of women to help me through labor. (see earlier blogs for views on female support in labor) If Tino is there, it is simply another miracle. If he is not, it will be beautiful to present his son to him at the international gate at LAX just a few days later. (and if he is denied, well, I will enjoy flying back to Africa and seeing all my besties that are still there, and walking through the misty coffee and banana farms at our home at the Kilimanjaro foothills in Moshi while we figure out plan D. or G.)
I know that, in spite of my lack of a traditional plan, I have done everything I could to prepare: school and jobs and community, all lined up.
But the best preparation of all is being ready for anything.
So, who wants to place the first bet?
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