Missing You

missing you...

You've been gone for some time now.
Your hugs and laughter are no more,
the memory of your smiles have faded
and I miss you all the more.
Yes... I miss you.
More than words can ever say,
more than my letters can convey,
in every single way,
since the day you passed away,
I've missed you.

~ me

Still Broken

Lost in Translation

Yesterday was a very hot day in NYC. It was so humid I was breathing in almost liquified air. In fact, it was so hot it brought back to mind my 2 month stint as a relief worker in the Amazon jungle. There are still 2 things that stand out vividly about that time, the people I met and the unbearable heat and humidity of that place.

The people are like those you would find anywhere where there's starvation - grateful for any help given. Their gratitude, humility, and genuine friendship are with me still today. I don't need to see video or pictures of that time because each face, each smile and every tear is indelibly recorded in my mind as if it just happened, instead of the 12 years it's been. There are so many wonderful stories I could share with you from that time, but one in particular stands out. It happened just a few hours after my arrival while I was waiting to meet the men I would be interpreting for. I would be sharing interpreting duties with 2 others interpreters (also men) who were coming from Europe. In fact, I was only one of 2 women in a group of 30 men headed for the jungle.

I was a bit nervous as my French and Portuguese were stale and my knowledge of Italian was very rusty having not spoken it since childhood. But this is where I was needed most, not in vaccination tents with children or in a kitchen cooking over a hot stove. Because of this new assignment I arrived before everyone else, in order to help at the airport. Part of my duties was to make sure that the teams of Dr’s. and scientist I was to work with would have an easy walk through customs.

Four hours later, I was still the only woman amongst the 25 staff worker waiting for transportation to base camp. I was trying to be more of an observer than a participant, trying to figure out culture and dynamics so as to gain an understanding of those I would be interpreting for. However, that didn’t last long as a number of the guys, being the usual testosterone loaded European/South American males, were trying to draw me out by asking questions about my personal life. Soon the double entendre and flirting began on their part. You see, in that culture, an unescorted woman, scratch that, an unescorted American woman meant to them that she was both a free spirit and uninhibited. Yes I was both, but I was also not the town whore and very capable of handling myself.

As the conversation continued I was asked what kind of food I preferred, and how I liked it prepared. Being that vegetarianism was an unfamiliar concept to them, I had to explain in a way they would understand. At one question I responded by saying that "I don't like preservatives. I'm not able to use them because I'm allergic, so I do everything naturally and without preservatives".

Suddenly their eyes sparkled with excitement and their subdued smiles broke into very wide eager grins. As they repeatedly began exchanging glances with each other (a few started smacking their lips as if staring at prime ribs), I knew I had said something terribly wrong. I just stood there with a stupid grin on my face, trying to figure out what it was that I had just said. Finally, one of the interpreters whispered in my ear the literal translation of what I'd said:

"I don't like condoms. I'm not able to use them because I'm allergic, so I have to do everything naturally and without condoms".

Needless to say I was mortified. Surrounded by men I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I turned beet red before I even had a chance to cover my face with my hands as I shouted "no, no, no...."  Of course some of the men were so entertained they said nothing waiting to see what I would say next. I still shudder from the memory as I could almost hear their thoughts. Turning to my fellow interpreter I asked that he please explain to them what I really meant to say, to which all responded with laughter at the end. Afterwards I promptly asked what was the word used there for food preservative. It turns out I had used an incorrect vowel the "o" instead of an "a" for the last vowel in "preservativas". Having been made aware of this, I committed the word to memory so I wouldn't have the same experience at restaurants.

Since Michele was a difficult name for South Americans to pronounce in Spanish, thereafter I was referred to as "La Natural" when I wasn't around.  Till this day they still refer to me as such.

Update: Below are some of the funny comments I received. Reposting with permission: 

1. Well, whaddya know... something French that I actually like :-)
Posted by: Harvey at October 03, 2009 04:19 PM 

2. Tres bien, mon bonbon. Je prends une pomme savoureuse à  danser avec votre votre mellon.
Posted by: RSM at October 03, 2009 07:06 PM 

3 C'est la Vie, Cheri. Mais comment-dites vous... Oooo La-La!  
Posted by: Stephen Macklin at October 03, 2009 08:07 PM 

4 ROFTL!  Open mouth extricate slipper. 

Posted by: Laughing Wolf at October 04, 2009 07:08 AM 
20061003

ON FRIENDSHIP

ON FRIENDSHIP


A special world for you and me
A special bond one cannot see
It wraps us up in its cocoon
And holds us fiercely in its womb.
Holding us in fine spun gold
Gently nestling us in its fold
Like silken thread it holds us fast
Bonds like this are meant to last.
And though at times a thread may break
A new one forms just in its wake
To bind us closer and keep us strong
In a special world, where we belong

- Surendar Chowdary Vattikuti

A Funny Moment

I was over at VW's site reading some really funny anecdotes and it brought to mind one of my own. In high school I found myself in Midtown Manhattan one sunny afternoon when this handsome young man steps in front of me dressed in his Sunday best and says hello with his girlfriend in tow. Puzzled I simply said hello back and stood there for a moment because they were blocking my way. Realizing I didn't recognize him he finally said: "It's Tony from the YMCA."

"Ohhhhh" I said looking at him up and down realizing who it was. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you with clothes on."

At hearing this, his girlfriend yanked her hand out of his and punched him hard in the arm. "How come she's seen you naked when I've never seen you naked in our 6 months together!"

To which I quickly added: "I'm only used to seeing him in that tiny speedo he wears during swim class." That didn't make things any better, so I simply said goodbye and quickly walked away leaving Tony to deal with a very angry girlfriend.

[originally posted at: lettersfromnyc.mu.nu]

Funny Moment

I was over at VW's site reading some really funny anecdotes and it brought to mind one of my own. In high school I found myself in Midtown Manhattan one sunny afternoon when this handsome young man steps in front of me dressed in his Sunday best and says hello with his girlfriend in tow. Puzzled I simply said hello back and stood there for a moment because they were blocking my way. Realizing I didn't recognize him he finally said: "It's Tony from the YMCA."

"Ohhhhh" I said looking at him up and down realizing who it was. "I'm sorry, I didn't recognize you with clothes on."

At hearing this, his new girlfriend yanked her hand out of his and punched him in the arm. "I've never seen you naked!"

To which I quickly added: "I'm only used to seeing him in that tiny speedo he wears during swim class." That didn't make thing any better, so I simply said good bye and quickly walked away leaving Tony to deal with a very angry girlfriend.

There Will Be No Peace

Through mild clear weather
Smile on the edge of your esteem
And its colours come back,
The storm has changed you:
You will not forget, ever,
The darkness blotting out hope, the gale
Prophesying your downfall.

You must live with your knowledge.
Way back, beyond, outside of you are others,
In moonless absences you never heard of,
Who have certainly heard of you,
Beings of unknown number and gender:
And they do not like you.

What have you done to them?
Nothing? Nothing is not an answer:
You will come to believe - how can you help it? -
That you did, you did do something;
You will find yourself wishing
you could make them laugh,
You will long for their friendship.

There will be no peace.
Fight back, then, with such courage as you have
And every unchivalrous dodge you know of,
Clear in your conscience on this:
Their cause, if they had one, is nothing to them now;
They hate for hate's sake.

Alone Can Be

Reading other poets often inspires me, for in their poetic self-revelation I often find threads or remnants of myself. And while in that place I often find their words imbue my creativity. Jean's poem inspired me to write the words below:

Alone can be

disconcerting,

deafening and

uncomfortable.

That is, 

until you find 

yourself,

and create 

a space for 

loving,

nurturing and  

healing.

Alone can be 

a time for: 

adventure, 

exploration and

reflection.

It’s an adventure

to see 

how far 

this me 

can stretch

silently.

Its a time 

for me 

to explore 

and expand 

my soul

spiritually and  

creatively,

Its always 

a time 

for

learning, 

changing and

growing.

Alone,

is simply

the best time 

for me 

to become 

the best ME

I can possibly 

BE.

~ me ~

Me, a Barbarian

Yes, that’s me according to a childless/single co-worker. It seems that I’m barbaric for telling an 8y.o. his behavior (temper tantrum really) was so out of control that I would tell the Pgm Director and his mother that they needed to pull down his pants and use my thick grommeted leather belt to tan his bottom, so he could understand the pain he was inflicting publicly on others by throwing his books around. You see, this kid threw such a temper tantrum outside the facility that when he threw his books he accidentally hurt a smaller child passing by.

I know this child. I actually taught him for 6 months when he was in Kindergarten with my son. He had issues with the teacher before me because whenever he threw a temper tantrum they would do anything to quiet him down – she eventually quit because she couldn’t deal with his behavior (he hit the teacher a couple of times). He had temper tantrums with me only twice. Both times I carefully picked him up and placed him outside in a fenced in empty storage area in the school’s play area. Why? Because he was a danger to himself and others. Whenever he got angry (for not getting his way) he would start throwing things and hitting people. The first time he had a tantrum with me while teaching him I picked him up in the middle of the tantrum and he was in a time-out in that empty fenced in storage area for 15 min. I immediately called the mother and explained what had happened and what I did. After she said she was okay with it I invited her to sit with me and the child after school so we could discuss some discipline strategies. The second time it took only 5 minutes before he calmed down and apologized. According to his mother, he didn’t have another tantrum again. That worked well till recently, when his father and mother began the process of separation.

So last night, while in the middle of the tantrum I stopped and held onto the boys hands and asked him calmly to step inside the facility (along with the child he hurt) I got someone with first aid training to take care of the little girl and escorted the boy to the Lobby/Waiting area and spoke to him in front of my son and other parents. He was still a bit wild and yelling and that’s when I told him if he didn’t calm down and stop kicking and throwing things I would take off my belt and offer it to his mother so that she could pull down his pants and use it to tan his bottom. Looking around and seeing his school friends and the parents staring at him he began to calm himself down. His mother just stood there speechless and in shock not knowing what to do.

This morning in discussing what happened with the childless/single co-worker, I told her how things ended and she asked me to stop and said, “I can’t talk to you any longer, your disciplining methods are simply barbaric.” So there you have it folks, I’m a barbarian. When I asked what she would have done? She said she simply would have talked to the kid. My response, “Oh, just like his mother. And that’s working out so well for her!” I said in a very sarcastic voice as I rolled my eyes and walked away. This from a woman who yells and throws things at her pets, and whose puppy I had to train so he would stop pooping all over the house. Yeah, she’s a roll model.

For the record, I’'ve never had to use the belt with my son, I have taken it out only twice in my son’s lifetime, but my stare is intimidating enough for him to immediately stop his bad behavior and apologize as he goes to the corner to put himself in time-out. The most severe punishment I'’ve ever had to inflict in his 7 years, is to have him kneel during a 5 min. time-out. Since then the threat of time-outs is enough to curb all wayward behavior.

That's how we do things in our household. Please feel free to share any effective discipline method with us in the comments below. 

A Reminder

"A Statistical Analysis Is Only as Good as Its Starting Assumptions."

Although a basic tenet, it's one that is not always followed by analysts & media types.