Recoding

I have lately been expressing my feelings out loud with a higher frequency. The verb for expressing in French is "exprimer", which always reminds me of the Spanish exprimir which means "to squeeze". As Canucka has blogged about, there are certain words in our L2s (L2 is language research slang for "second language") that just stick with us and we like to use. Most of them are swear words, I guess, because they don't carry as a strong feeling or meaning than to native speakers. However, I was talking to Gabrielle about how English has become my main language for expressing positive feelings. I *feel* in English, and that is not to say that I don't feel when I used words expressions like mi cielo or preciosa, I DO mean them. However, I have re-coded my life experiences into English.

Just last week I finished a five month individual counselling process with the Counselling and Development Centre(CDC) at YorkU. It is not my first time in my life in which I have sought help, nor the first time that I have attended the CDC to get help. In the half dozen or so opportunities I have been seeing a mental health professional this is one of the best experiences I have had. To begin with, I was driven completely by my own motivation to change and to explore my behaviour patterns, thought processes, and emotional responses to life. This sounds so dry and contrived, but really, that is all it is to experience life: how we act, how we think and how we feel. And I was (and still am) on a period of my life in which I needed to tame my wild introspection and finally make it work to my advantage.

Even though it was more a "here and now" kind of process, where every week I was able to reflect on the events of previous days, there was always the presence of the past. A reframing of my life and of the image I have had of myself throughout my life was at the centre of the growth I experienced in the past five or so months. My counsellor was not only the perfect squash court to bounce back ideas, but a very impartial voice of advice at the right time. The counselling stopped at this point because she was only doing an internship at the CDC. I've been asked if I would've continued going to counselling and yes, I would have. However this is a good point to transition into being my own voice of reason and will keep the hour a week to myself. I have decided to start going to play squash once a week, alone, to give me the appropriate time and space to review my week and continue the path I am taking.

All of this to say that I believe that among many many things, this process not only reinforced the recoding of my life into English, but also helped me integrate and accept all the different parts that form me, like a stained glass window or a 3D puzzle. My different identities can come out every now and then and I can let them be. I have been given the chance now to explore even further a new part of my cultural experience. As I start to get to know Gabrielle I get to see myself through her eyes. Moreover, being French her first language, it has given me a chance to understand and share this ESL experience, and also to push myself into using a third language (every now and then at least) to squeeze meaning out of this life. Just a couple of weeks ago, as I was trying to describe a Guatemalan enchilada to her, due to my lack of vocabulary in French, I wasn't able to come up with the word "betterave", but more interestingly both the words "beet" and "remolacha" (what betterave means in English and Español) were completely blocked. I was aware that I knew them and I had the image of such vegetable but I couldn't even do the "switch coding" and interject English into my very primitive French conversation. Oh, the mind and its games.

Note on frequency of postings/comments
As you may have noticed there was almost a month in between my previous post and this one. I confess I have been doing some living lately and thus have neglected elToronteco. I still read the postings on my favourite blogs and every now and then I drop a line as a comment. I also appreciate the comments on any posting I have written and I get a laugh at seeing the google searches that result in unexpected visits. I make no promises of future postings, but I am not riding towards the sunset just yet. After all, besides squash, blogging will become part of my self reflection exercise on a more consistent way now that counselling has ended. So, stayed tuned.

Everything I learned about blogging...

Recently a dear friend pull the plug or better off "signed off" on her blog. I have since started to write this post that I hope to publish soon. It is an idea I have had from the get-go when I decided to create elToronteco. It is a huge tribute to the blogs that showed me the power of this new media. Then I realized, What do I know about blogging? Not much, I guess. But what I do know is that these blogs and their authors have influenced more than my "extra-curricular" activity of blogging but the way I see and live life. The very first blog I consistently read was:

Bitácora de Mauricio Romero http://romerogt.delaermita.com/ [Español]
Nepotism-shmepotism... I believe that the melange of personal notes, rants about open source technology, the occasional political diatribe, reiki and other spiritual and material matters really describes the person with whom I share most of my genetic configuration. RomeroGT is my older brother but more than that is a great friend and a real traveling companion. Space separates us, but distance is not measured in Kms. I've been reading this blog since 2004 and I believe I started by commenting via e-mail and then I figured out how to post my comments. This blog changes its css every now and then, always looking for different layouts. On one of those layouts had a widget with recent posts from other "Blogs chapines" (chapín is slang for a person from Guatemala) and through those links I was able to discover other blogs, particularly, in October of 2006 I stumble upon this blog:

Hello from Here http://hellofromhere.blogspot.com
LD is a Canadian journalist who was living at the time in Quetzaltenango or Xela as it is also known, the second largest city in Guatemala after The Capital. The personal touch of her postings and the struggle she was having with integration of her experience in Guatemala, which was in many different levels quite deep, with her Canadian identity caught my attention. Then there was a personal link because a friend here in Toronto actually have met her a couple of Summers before while visiting Xela. One important think I learn from HFH was to always keep it personal. Not just report the news (which in LD's case is her actual job), but find something that you cannot deliver in any other way. HFH could be seen as an Ex-Pat blog, one of those transition from the "dreaded mass e-mail" to the public posting of the author's adventures in the foreign land. On the posts of HFH you can find a human side of Guatemala and the transition from being an outsider to becoming part of that reality... because Guatemala, as Francisco Goldman describes in The Long Night of the White Chickens, is a country you don't live in but you live with. And LD also showed this on a post called "Ni de aquí ni de allá" just before returning to Canada.

LD decided to pull the plug on HFH recently. She's been back on Canadian soil for more than a year and the "novelty" of living in Toronto is not really inspiring. Believe me, I know, and you can see my own sparseness in posting as such. One last lesson from HFH is that sometimes you need to live in order to blog. It has to mean something to you. It took me a year to come across a situation that merited starting a blog. In the meantime, through the Web of relationships the Internet is I was able to find two of my best friends' blogs: From Ronald Flores, well www.ronaldflores.com [Es], and from Ale her two blogs Congo Days [En] and Desde Kinshasa [Es].

From Ronald's blog I have learned that I don't have to fear to elevate the level of the conversation. From both of Ale's blogs I have rediscovered that kindred spirit I met back in Guatemala and also to dare to write in both languages. I took the single blog two languages approach whereas she keeps two separate yet equally important blogs. These two friends of mine make me proud of being a Guatemalan blogger.

The last blog I would like to mention as part of my formative time as a budding blogger is La Antigua Guatemala Daily Photo (http://antiguadailyphoto.com) whose author, Rudy is one of the first great friends I have never met (although I will try again to correct this later in the year). LAGDP has given me the opportunity to craft my commenting skills (as HFH and RomeroGT did as well). It is also "concerned" with design as RomeroGT. However, one of the key lessons is the beauty of using pictures to tell a story.

I must mention two good friends (and their blogs) that I made since I started elToronteco. Carmencita, a Guatemalan woman living in California, where she grew up, is another two languages/two blogs kinda person with the recently renamed "Un viaje a las raices" (http://carmendebizet.blogspot.com/) and with her personal Xanga blog http://www.xanga.com/CarmenDeBizet/ , which heading reads "Given enough coffee I could rule the world". Carmencita is a wonderful story-teller with a good sense of humour and also with a complex identity (which is a common denominator on the whole bunch described here, me included). The other amiga is Cancun Canuck (http://www.cancuncanuck.com/) or Canucka as I call her in the blogosphere. A former Toronto resident now transplanted into that Caribbean tourist hot-spot of Cancún where she is living a life among the nativ.. I mean locals. Her insights are great, her stories are funny and human, and (I must mention it) her 3-year-old son is just the cutest MexiCanadian ever (there is something to be said about mixing the races ;-) ).

So, I might not know much about blogging. But my journey started by lurking and commenting, particularly on the blogs mentioned here. To all you guys, a YouTube dedication:

Contigo Aprendí by Armando Manzanero
Interpreted by Costa Rica's Trio Azul Kristal

The importance of being discrete

La Vie s'en va...
Una mujer, con su mirada,
Me dice: - "Vívela"
La Vida a gritos,
-"Sigue a esa mujer"
From Poem #10 of "Luna Park" by Luis Cardoza y Aragón

Have you ever been asked "How life is treating you?" I get it once in a while and I always try to be witty and answer "At least she is still treating me". Probably this exchange takes place more commonly in Spanish, thus the gender of La Vida. Now that is one way of putting it... life, my dearest dear is still talking to me, and like to Cardoza it is yelling at me. I sometimes feel to be holding on dear life... making this super human effort just to keep my head afloat.
Lately, though, the feeling has changed, or at least is not that frequent. I have a feeling of accomplishment. Back in the academic year 2004/2005 I was given a task to reproduce some results published by my co-supervisor JPL and one of his former students back in the mid-90s where they used a data analysis technique called Latent Class Analysis (or LCA among friends) to classify the responses and the respondents of a study using one of the experimental tasks we used quite often in our lab. It was a long long year... not my brightest or my best moment, but not my dullest or worst either. I kept hitting my head against the wall (alas! only figuratively this time) over and over again, at school, at home, in my head and in my heart. Needless to say I survived with just a few scratches on my academic self. Well, fast forward to April Fool's day 2008 and there I was, presenting on the last class of the last course requirement for my degree and I was able to slip right into my presentation (which was about other type of data analysis) my first ever working LCA. No reworking someone else's results or even ideas. The data came from a larger project we are conducting in my lab, but the conceptualization of my variable, the recoding, interest, motivation, and final "measurement" was mine.

If you are still reading this quite boring post you may wonder what does this has to do with being discrete... or saying to yourself "huh?" or even "WTF? Manolo". Oh well, I will keep some details to myself because I am being discrete... but in any case, discrete is used to describe those characteristics (we call them "variables" in psych. lingo) that "classify" or "order" people (we call them "participants" or a more general "sample" or when we feel really almighty "population"). For example, city or country of origin, that is a discrete variable. The place in which you get to the finish line, which is a rank, is also a discrete variable. The difference between first and second might or might not be the same between second and third, it just "orders" the runners. That is what LCA does, it creates classes, it puts people into statistical boxes that then we can play with.

Psychologists have this inferiority complex (it is not just me, trust me) and we are always defensive against "hard sciences" and try to come up with this "scientific" explanations to things and we would like to believe that as gravity was once explained by supernatural forces and now it is an undeniable physical law, one day our little "ideas" about the world will also be one day recognized by means of neuro-this or gentico-that as "real". Personally I believe reality is a construction, but that is another topic. The point being that in our quest for "hard evidence" and for "hard cash" from science councils' grants we tend to pump up our explanations of things. We measure everything and we create scales (read questionnaires, surveys, etc.) for everything. We test them, we calibrate them, we "factor-analyse" them. We make them prim and proper for the stage of academia. And that stage of academia requires them to look nice and usually to "behave" like speed or gravity or luminosity or whatever it is "scientists-out-there" study. And because for the physicist or the astronomer or even the engineer it is not enough to say that well, the object falls faster on Earth than in the Moon but it has to say how faster we assume that to be part of the science club psychology needs also to say how much of anxiety or intelligence or social desirability or racism this or that person has. Yes and no are not enough. Discrete answers are not enough.

This is the beginning of a rant I have about being discrete. About the good qualities of being able to put things and people into boxes. Not of labeling in itself. But of accepting the limits of behavioural sciences in trying to understand the most fascinating organism on the face of Gaea. Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar and sometimes "une pipe, n'est-ce pas un pipe". They don't have to have less than 12 points on the BDI or gain 10 IQ points just by looking at them. Sometimes, just sometimes, a "yes-or-no" answer is enough. And sometimes it is not about getting to the finish line first, but to know how to get to the finish line.

Photo: "Homage to M.C. Escher" by the author. Taken on Niagara Falls Park on June 2007.

Overdue | Pride

On my shared items I have added a note from elPeriódico, the Guatemalan newspaper I use almost exclusively to keep connected and informed about what's up in my motherland. This is my interpretation and reaction of the news as a self-exiled middle-class Toronteco. The news headline reads as follows (my own translation from Spanish):

Presidents vetoes restitution of death penalty

Executive affirms that the decision is based in the fact that the decree violates six articles of the Constitution and because it would freeze relations with supportive countries

A couple of notes: (1) How hard it is to translate a headline from the beautiful Spanish language into the practical English language. (2) The "executive" refers to the section of the government headed by the president and conformed by the different ministries in charge of the actual functioning (execution) of the government, as opposed to the "legislative" (in charge of spitting out laws) and the "judicial"(in charge of enforcing the laws through the different courts).

I honestly have to say that I have not followed this issue closely. Apparently, the previous Guatemalan government left the death penalty "in the air" and it was up to the new government to figure out what to do with it. It seems that the "legislative", that is the Congress, approved the restitution of the death penalty. Both the current "executive" and the "legislative" are dominated by the same party, thus it is interesting that the president vetoes something approved by his own party. However, that is his prerogative and I simply can applaud any sign he can give of being "in power".

During my quarter of a century growing up in Guatemala the death penalty was a non-issue. It existed, it was enforced every now and then, it was even broadcast on the news at noon. I learned compassion, thought, through the eyes of my Tía Luz who served somewhat as our nanny and to whom I am in debt for who I am almost as much as my parents. Her reaction to anyone being incarcerated or taking in by police, or worse, anyone who was in death row was Pobrecito ("poor little guy"). Compassion for a criminal is something that is not often seen, particularly in Guatemala where the sole mention of the "Human Rights" in relation to common criminals provokes the outcry of the general public as a way of letting people get away with their wrongdoings. Now that I think about it to put it in black and white pixels Human Rights have so many different meanings in Guatemala. On one side we have the issue of the genocide of those who were fighting against the government (blowing up the extremely necessary and scarce infrastructure of the country, I must say to echo my "maternal" point of view); those who are seen by the international community as criminals against humanity, the masterminds and executors of the massacres during the civil war and even after the peace accords of 1996. And then we have the Human Rights of the common criminal (or even the organized one) which are completely disregarded by the common public. Linchamientos ("lynching") was (is?) a usual way of the people of taking the law into their own hands, as democratic as an open town hall. Out of frustration, the general public chased the criminal (be it someone who was stealing a pair of sunglasses or someone being suspected or trying to kidnap a baby), beat him/her up almost to death, until "the authorities" arrive. Is in this context that Human Rights are looked down by Guatemalans, not in the context of the massacres.

Thus, this double standard (death people have Human Rights, but criminals barely alive don't) permeates the discussion of the death penalty in my dear motherland. The compassion instilled by my Tía Luz and encouraged by this country I live in now (my brother calls it my "godmother"-land) have created a very clear position about the death penalty: It is NEVER justified. To give anyone (the people, the judges, the government, the church) the power to decide over someone else life is to give them absolute power, and you know what the saying says, human nature will tend to be corrupted by this power. The death penalty is there along the proliferation of nuclear weapons, is better not to have them regardless of their appeal and potential "usefulness". Revenge is usually the motor behind those who cry for the death penalty, not justice and neither it is the welfare of the many (even though "getting rid" of a few bad apples might seem "good" for society).

In a couple of occasions I have been reminded in Canada that my country of origin still practices the death penalty and thus it is placed within the box of "medieval" justice systems (along with our big partner to the South). And that is why today I feel pride to share the news that come from my motherland. A president, regardless of the public opinion and the political cost, is saying that the death penalty has no place in a modern civilized society, it is unconstitutional (although so it is abortion, but that is a horse of a different colour) and in order to be part of the global village Guatemala has to find real solutions to its problems with violence and crime. Violence cannot fight violence. Today I am proud of this overdue position.

What do you think about the death penalty? Is it still applied where you live? Isn't it just a short-term lazy measure to combat criminality? Who has the moral solvency to decide over the life of someone else?

Sequía

¿Qué es poesía? dices mientras clavas
en mi pupila tu pupila azul.
¿Qué es poesía? ¿Y tú me lo preguntas?
Poesía... eres tú.
De "Rimas y Leyendas" por Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

Pues luego de cinco meses de haberme mudado a mi barrio y eventualmente haber iniciado este blog cómo que me he quedado sin baterías. Asi que he decidido poner tres poemas que fueron escritos durante estos meses. Tres poemas, tres estados de ánimo, tres irrealidades, tres idiomas...
_________________________________________________
Four-O-one

A nervous wreck
Driving in the car
Trepidation and expectation
Sobbing full of joy
On a cold December day

Trucks and buses
Barns and trees
Exit ramps and service centres
Frozen rivers and cold warehouses
The open road in front of me
Distance left behind
The radio signal fading
Tells me I am close to be
Finally back inside your eyes

_________________________________________________
El Atentado

Me moría por saber
Y cuál terrorista suicida
Mártir de causas perdidas
Envolví mi pecho con las cargas
Que había preparado...
...me acerqué en público
Con un plan y una sonrisa
Sin elemento sorpresa
Pero presa del pánico

Tú tenías otro plan
Y tu propia sonrisa
No pude detonar
Todas las palabras
Empacadas con pólvora

Me muero por saber
En dónde estás ahora
Mientras aún estoy
Recogiendo los chayes
Incrustados en mi pecho
Dentro de la única víctima del atentado
_________________________________________________
Le lac et la rivière
ai miei amici

Je pars vers la mer
Vers l’immensité bleue
Loin de toi, loin, loin,
Loin de tes yeux

Tu reste là avec ta profondeur
Tu es calme et en silence
Tu es arrivé déjà a ton
Dernier destination

Je viens de toi...
Au fond de toi je suis née
Mais… il fallait que je sois partie
Je devais partir vers
L’inconnu à travers
Des villes et des villages
Sur les collines
Et sous le soleil et les nuages
Le même ciel que tu reflets
Comme un miroir d’eau
...calme ... sage ...

Et moi… je ne peux pas rester
... je dois partir...
Dois continuer mon chemin
Autour les ports et des autres lacs
Et finalement, un jour, ou une nuit
Arriver à la mer...
Et fait partie des orages
Et retourner à toi
...avec la pluie torrentielle

Under the rug

It's Sunday afternoon, just came back from the laundromat, my place is in desperate need of cleaning, I started yesterday, not done yet. And instead I am writing a post on my blog. Typical guy who lives alone. Somewhere I read or heard a complaint of someone about men not noticing dust... I notice it alright, I just (1) don't care enough (2) cannot deal with it right now. Anyway, I always have the feeling that no matter how much I sweep and mop and spray and scrub filth will always come back, almost immediately. Cleaning is one of those mundane(yet necessary) activities that makes me feel like the Sisyphus. Is not the only one, but is the one I have in front of me right now.

Well, continuing with my search for identity (which will help me procrastinate and avoid cleaning) and with my crusade to understand and share my "culture of origin" I thought about writing about second last names. In Guatemala, and in most Latin America I believe, the tradition is to have two last names. The "first" last name is the first last name of the person's father and the second last name is the first last name of the mother. This creates the illusion that there is some sort of value on the woman's family name. Think about it, the mother's first last name is actually her father's last name.

I am always intrigued by the importance of names and family names. Is a colonialist criollo mentality I guess. From very young I was inquiring about the origin of both my family names and the people behind them. It seems my great grandfather from my father's father side (i.e. from my "first last name" side)moved from La Antigua Guatemala and pretty much lost ties with his relatives back there (a mere 41 km from Guatemala City, but with treacherous roads and lack of means of transportation it used to be a day's travel back then I guess). My second last name, the one I take from my mother and which I have fought to keep in Canada defying local tradition and other immigrants practices is Escobar. There is an interesting way how my mother, and therefore myself, end up with this last name. There is a more "parental" than biological connection with the last name. My mother being the second child out of three children and only daughter of my grandmother received the last name of her second husband, even though it was understood and known to everyone that she was the daughter of my grandmother's first husband. Thus I have cousins with different last names. My grandfather Escobar was, besides all his flaws, my mother's father.... real father, as they say.

In any case, I grew up proud of both my families and thus of both my last names (the criollo mentality once again). At some point in the transition from Guatemala to Canada I thought that hyphenation was the only choice I had to "save" the Escobar. I started using the hyphen and up to this day there are versions of my name hyphenated at YorkU. Don't get me started with the fact that I use my middle name as my call name. Two first names and two last names make for quite a bit of confusion and I find endearing when someone calls me Mr. Escobar. At some point in my life I thought about making my father's name a "middle name" and adopting my mother's last name as my own. I outgrew those tantrums that would have caused unnecessary and potentially costly headaches, without mention an outright split from one part of my family heritage. So I have learned to embrace my different familiar origins and in my colonialist mentality I even designed a coat of arms for my two last names combined (see above). I am no expert in heraldic elements so I cannot explain or defend my coat of arms. For purposes of this convoluted post let me just say this: Escobar, means literally "to broom", not "to sweep", but "to broom". Thus the brooms in my coat of arms. So it would have been ironic that I just sweep my second last name under the rug and even potentially forgetting that once I was called Manolo just to please North American standards of one name and one last name. Moreover, and coming full circle on today's lesson is the fact that cleaning is waiting for me and I'll be using the instrument that is representing half of my family heritage in my made up coat of arms.

But the story doesn't end here... Next month I'll be taking a three day course on curling, a somewhat obscure and/or archaic Winter sport in which teams compete over solid water throwing stones towards a "target" and in which they use (wait for it) brooms to "curl" the ice in front of the stone to give the throw both impulse and direction. This can be the begining of a beautiful friendship between a Spanish last name and a Scottish sport popular in Canada. It can end in the Olympics, why not dream big. After all, the oldest Olympic medalist is a Canadian curler. Definitely not the ones in Vancouver in 2010, but probably the ones in Sochi in 2014, which coincidentally were awarded to the Russian city in Guatemala just last year. Coincidence... I think not.

Now back to cleaning... a toilet bowl awaits.

It's De-Lovely

cariño.
(Etim. disc.; cf. lat. carere, carecer, arag. cariño, nostalgia).
1. m. Inclinación de amor o buen afecto que se siente hacia alguien o algo.
2. m. Manifestación de dicho sentimiento. U. m. en pl.
3. m. Añoranza, nostalgia.
4. m. Esmero, afición con que se hace una labor o se trata una cosa.
5. m. Regalo, obsequio.
From Diccionario de la Lengua Española - Real Academia Española

Years ago, when I was working on a call centre for a travel assistance/insurance company I started to send e-mails to co-workers with little "Spanish lessons" which I signed "El Profe" (the "prof"). I have kept that character hidden for a long time, regretfully and probably creating some resentment in the meantime. I think this could be a good time to either "resuscitate" elProfe or to make an exception and let him give a short lecture. And why is this a good time? Because today in Canada we celebrate Valentine's Day and in Guatemala is celebrated something similar which has a different connotation rooted on language semantics. February 14th in Guatemala is "el día del cariño y la amistad"; the last part is straight forward and already gives one of the big differences in the celebrations: Amistad=Friendship. Thus, Guatemalans are not only celebrating your "significant other" or romantic love, but really any meaningful relationship.

The first part, the cariño part takes a bit more of explaining. According to the Dictionary of the Royal Spanish Academy (see definition in Spanish in the epigraph) "cariño" is not only love, but "good affection" and the expression of such feelings. Its etymology is even more interesting, cariño has common ancestors with "to lack". Infinite letters and postings can derive from this little fact... (sigh). In any case, what I want to relate cariño with is the Spanish expression te quiero, which literally means "I want you", but it doesn't mean that, you dirty English-speaking minds. It means, as I feel it, "I care for you"... "I have these feelings for you and you are important to me". Some people can get away with never say te amo ("I love you") to their partners by always expressing their "love" with te quiero. On the other hand, it can be seen as a watered down or even "innocent" or "inoffensive" way of telling a friend that you feel the relationship to be an important one.

In my search for consolidation of my multiple identities and the role that language plays on this endevour I have not figured out this following issue: I am not sure which society is more "sensitive" or "picky" in using the word LOVE. As I explained above, in Guate couples can live without saying "I love you" by the artifice that te quiero produces. However, is within the North American context that I have felt the importance of saying "I love you". You just don't go around saying this or that person loves this or that other person. How appropriate (or not) is to say you love a friend? I certainly have friends that I can say I love, both male and female friends that I truly love. It is not a romantic love, although it can be confused that way (both by the other person and/or by my own silly self).

Trying to figure out this issue I am reminded (was reminded a few months ago actually) of two types of love: Eros and Agape. Eros is that passionate, romantic, usually physical love. Agape, as I understand it, is more like cariño, but with more commitment. It makes me think of the phrase "I would give my life for...". Which brings to my mind that idea that it is easier to die for than to live with someone. No, agape is giving yourself in, giving yourself up, your time, your self, your everything. I don't believe there is a hierarchy, both types of love are important and should be celebrated. Ideally we could have someone (hopefully the same person) to whom we can give both kinds of love and to whom we are the object of both kinds of love. At least that is something to aspire to.

Before leaving you with more questions I wanted to share at least a few verses of that lovely Cole Porter song, which Ella Fitzgerald sings beautifully and that gave the title to this post:

The night is young, the skies are clear
And if you want to go walkin', dear
It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely

I understand the reason why
You're sentimental, 'cause so am I
It's delightful, it's delicious, it's de-lovely

You can tell at a glance what a swell night this is for romance
You can hear, dear Mother Nature murmuring low "Let yourself go"

What is love to you? What do you think is celebrated on February 14th? What should be celebrated this date?

The tour guide and the (winter) city

For the third time in the last 12 months I had the opportunity of being a tour guide of Toronto. It is really a pleasure to show the city you live in to someone who is seeing it for the first time. Last June I started this honourary job with my Dad, then in the Fall I wandered around downtown with my dear Italian friend RBT a couple of times. Yesterday it was with a new friend, a young guy from Colombia who is trying to adapt to living in Canada after life threw a slider at him and his family. Mr. Ch. is being integrated into my lab at YorkU as an undergraduate research assistant, while trying to have his university back in Colombia to take this experience as the last credits he need to finish his degree in Psychology.

We met to talk and I was able (hopefully) to give him a glance into life in Canada and in Toronto. The backdrop of a slushy Spadina Avenue after a "snow storm" that surprisingly brought the city to its knees seemed to be effective to describe the contrasts this city has to offer. Here are some photos I took from one of my favourite intersections College and Spadina:

What I like about this intersection is that is the North limit of China Town and to the South-West of the intersection you can find Kengsinton Market. Kengsinton Market is one of the most hip places (obviously this is my personal opinion) in Toronto. You can find vintage clothing stores, international food products, fresh produce, knick-knack stores, and even an authentic Taco joint (El Trompo) and a Chilean Empanada place (Jumbo Empanadas, where we had lunch). There are several Latin American grocery stores, so if I ever feel home sick and long for those Ducal refried beans, or if I run out of chocolate (the beverage) or suddenly decided the heck with sodium content let's make some Pepián out of a box (Mahler brand) I am sure I will find these and other products there if I don't find them in the little stores on mi barrio. Thus I try to show this neighborhood to visitors from abroad. In this case is to a future Canadian resident, but I guess it is a good introduction to the multi-culturality of Toronto (did I mentioned the Middle Eastern, Portuguese, Jamaican, and many many other stores in the area? and the fact that is just besides China Town?) and at the same time give him a potential life line if there is something from Colombia he might end up craving once he realizes is not easily found in wherever he ends up living in this wide, although relatively uninhabited city. Here is a shot of Augusta Ave., on of the main roads of Kengsinton Market.

It looks like any other street covered with snow. So I might make a future posting on this interesting piece of Toronto's mosaic when Spring finally arrives. Which according to the Canadian Groundhogs will be after six more weeks of these (dreary) weather. In the meantime I made Mr. Ch. walk down University Avenue (where I give my speech about the Canada Life beacon, does anyone know what is so special about it?) all the way to the Harbourfront Centre (which I had previously showcased), passing by Union Station, and the foot of the CN tower and the Rogers Centre (formerly known as the Skydome). Then we walked North via Bay Street, the home of the Toronto Stock Exchange (TSX) and then East on Queen St. East, where he is staying on a place beyond Sherbourne. Mr. Ch. apparently is "wintercity-ed out" so I didn't ask him to join me while I went to Nathan Phillps Square to experience an interpretation of Alice in Wonderland by a theatre group from the Netherlands called Gajes. I took some pictures, but lighting (and having a hot-dog and fries on one hand) doesn't help my poor camera phone, which otherwise takes excellent outdoor shots. Here are some of the most decent ones of the performance:

After the presentation I hang around to see the lightning of some fire sculptures created by a French artist or artists. It is fascinating how a cold Winter evening can make our primeval attraction towards fire more evident. Here are some pictures of a couple of these "sculptures", don't get too close:

So, this chapín tour guide from Toronto shared a talk with a Colombian friend over some Chilean empanadas, gave him a tour of downtown, and then he toured on his own to a festival where artists from the Netherlands and France presented their crafts. Just another weekend in Toronto. And, an appropriate way to commemorate the 32nd anniversary of an event in Guatemala, which produced an overwhelming response from the international community towards my motherland. Growing up we used to call February 4th the Day of International Friendship, but I don't know if it caught up. Does anyone know what happened in Guatemala on 4 February 1976?

Tale of two brews

Ok Rudy, I'll bite, or should I say drink? The man behind LAGDP has been mentioning over and over again the Canadian Classic Film "Strange Brew": The adventures of Bob and Doug McKenzie. Fellow blogger CancunCanuck posted in December the brothers McKenzie version of the 12 Days of Christmas, which is really really funny. But I won't talk about these Canadian icons, but of their (our) beloved beer. Or should I say beers? Well, I will focus on one beer in particular, the one I call "the pride of Toronto": Steam Whistle. Last June I had the pleasure of hosting my father in his first trip to Canada. He came for my convocation ("acto de graducación" pues) from my MA. My father worked for some years as an accountant at Cervecería Centroamericana, the producers of Gallo Nuestra Cerveza. So I thought it would be nice to take him to a micro-brewery here in Toronto. It happens that Steam Whistle Brewery is located at the foot of the most emblematic construction of Toronto, the CN tower. These are some photos taken from and at the brewery.

In the tour, which included a taste of their beer, we were told that this brewery only "craft" one product, the pilsner Steam Whistle, which is made only with four ingredients: Spring water, malted barley, hops and yeast. Their motto is "make one thing and make it good". This "micro-brewery" is located on an old train station, thus the name Steam Whistle. It is actually quite "hoppy" and it might be an acquired taste, but maybe less so than other types of beers produced in Toronto, like Mill Street Brewery Coffee Porter. But is not my intention to either describe every single beer and ale brewed in Toronto, not it is to create a beer blog. I am just replying to Rudy's insisting question of "what kind of strange brew" are we drinking up here, usually aimed to LD and to my person. LD, as far as I know, is not even a beer drinker. Me, on the other hand, have discovered that the suds I used to drink as a young child actually come from a very tasty beverage. I was not particularly fond of Gallo, and when I visit my family I try to drink Moza whenever I can(a bock type of beer, also produced by Cervecería Centroamericana S.A.). Beer is a serious business both in my motherland and in my newland. But it was in these latitudes that I discover that there is no such thing as one beer or one type of beer, and I finally understood what the hell is an ale (and I am not talking about Canada Dry Ginger Ale).

There are many more micro-breweries in Canada and some of the best that I know (well maybe because are the ones that have products more easily accessible) are in Ontario. You can check the website of the Ontario Craft Brewers for an extensive list of these local entrepreneurs and their beloved products. When I first came to Canada, I lived in Kitchener-Waterloo (K-W), two intertwined cities located about 2 hours South-West of Toronto, for three years and a half. I even worked conveniently across from The Brick Brewery in uptown Waterloo. In those times I developed a taste for Honey Brown beer, regardless of the brand. Here in Toronto when I am in the mood I usually have a Sleeman's Honey Brown, brewed in Guelph, a city between Toronto and K-W. Lately, though, I have preferred the best selling import in Canada: Stella Artois, brewed in Leuven, Belgium since 1366 (no it is not a typo, since the mid 14th century and by the same family!). Even though I was not able to visit the brewery, I did spent a couple of days in the city of Leuven this past Summer.

Belgium, among other things, is well known for its beer. Now that I think about it, it is an officially bilingual country, with a parliamentary democracy and a monarchy, with an interesting mixed of immigrants, somewhat crappy weather, that is proud of its beer. Hmmm... sounds familiar, doesn't it? In any case, I took some pictures around town and particularly of the area where InBev, the brewery that produces Stella Artois is. Here they are:

The Katholieke Universiteit Leuven (KUL)is the alma mater of a Chilean friend who recently defended his doctoral dissertation and it is the current casa de estudios of my old friend Ale, another fellow blogger behind Desde Kinshasa and Congo Days. KUL buildings are all over town, but one of the most iconic ones is the Library and the monument located in the plaza in front of it:

In the Wikipedia entry for KUL it mentions how KUL, the flemish university split from L'Université de Louvain in the last quarter of the 20th century. It states that the library was divided alphabetically "in a typical Belgian fashion" between KUL and Louvain, whose campus was relocated to a town created on the Wallon (French speaking) side of the country called Louvain-la-Neuf (literally the new Leuven). Here are more pictures of the streets of Leuven (the original one):

The last one is a picture of the psychologists' pub called Pavlov, which unfortunately I didn't visit. Maybe when I am doing my nest next trip across the pond I'll have time to hang out and taste more of the great beers produced in Belgium. There is actually an interesting blog I stumble upon which tries to count the different types of beers produced in Belgium. They are almost reaching the 200th beer and I don't think they are counting the more commercial ones like Morte Subite, Leffe, Hoegaarden, or even Stella Artois. Here is me enjoying a glass of Morte Subite at El Metekko in Brussels:

Thus it ends my tale of two brews or of many many brews and the countries that proudly brew them. It seems that not only have I betrayed my motherland by not being a fanatic of Gallo, but I already moved on from the local "strange brews" to prefer the taste of a refreshing import. So, whenever I write a post or a comment that seems more skewed than normally you can blame it on Stella... STELLA!!

Privacy, anarchy, and the law-abiding citizen

"(...)considero que Guatemala representa la irupción del caos en el orden occidental. Pero Guatemala es, de alguna forma, una manifestación tan radical de la disrupción del orden que se torna adictiva" p.209.
From "Un paseo en primavera" by Ronald Flores.

Pues I feel compelled to write a "real" comment (as opposed to one of my usual insidious tirades or cryptic diatribes)about a post in LAGPD entitled "Street photography or voyeurism?" , and when the comment reached three paragraphs I decided to make it a post. First of all I wanted to state that I am also grateful to Rudy for the pictures that give colour to my every day routine and warmth to my sometimes freezing (particularly with wind chill) reality.

The now-forgotten first post in elToronteco dealt with the issue of cameras on public transit. I want to expand my opinion about the issue of privacy. I have this conviction that privacy on public places is overrated (and to some extent an oxymoron). How can we expect not to be photographed or videotaped when we are on a space where anyone can see what we are doing? Technology has made available "recording" devices more accessible and more wide spread. As I have said in previous postings, I am not a lawyer, but "expectation of privacy" seems to me a gray area. I say, if I go into a "public" washroom and I get inside a stall and I lock the door I should "expect" not to be observed; but if I am crossing an intersection or paying for a chocolate bar at a convenience store I cannot claim that I was going on my "private" business and thus I should not be taped or photographed.

My second reaction was to the comment by One Way on the post in question. It is about the effect that legalism has on our behaviour. In the Euro-Northamerican reality we live with fear of lawsuits and breaking the ever changing/evolving laws. I say this because of the mention of children in photographs and the need for parent/guardian permission. In Guate, and that is my humble now-outsider opinion, issues of privacy and respect for the subjects of pictures are more a kind of "respect" or "manners" more than following laws. In the 90s, when I was taking a university course in Pre-school children observation we had assignments that required us to do exactly that, observe children, sometimes with their parents, in their natural environments (read Malls and Food Courts, as well as day cares and schools). I was not taking pictures of them, I probably would have if I had a camera phone, I don't know. But I was taking notes about their behaviour! Now that is voyeurism at a professional level. I was not required to do so, but I occasionally approached the parents and explained what I had just done. I also remember doing observations in day care centres where the only credential I presented was my word that I was a psychology student at so-and-so university. In Canada, to do research, nowadays, before I am able to see a child in a school I had to go through bureaucracy from my university, the school board, the school in question and have the permission of the parents. We also get the consent of the child and assure them that they can withdraw from the study/activity at any point. I believe this last thing to be the most important and essential. The rest is just legal covering-your-butt paperwork.

I honestly don't know which societal approach is better. The lawsuit paranoia or the relaxed naiveté. However, I do think that Guate is the paradise of anarchists that one of the characters on Un paseo en primavera, a foreigner, says (see epigraph above). I recently was put on the spot for being "law abiding". I have the feeling that it is a reaction of having grown in the midst of chaos. It might have been exacerbated by the laissez faire approach of my beloved parents, to whom I am grateful for not only having given me roots, but also wings. I cannot deny, though, that in Guate laws are not respected, and that is the default (the norm pues). I know I will get comments on this blunt statement. Again, is it good or bad? Isn't a society in which its citizens "decide" by an implicit agreement what is proper behaviour one that is more "free"? Is living in constant fear of being sued healthy? And, has it changed at all in the past decade? Is Guatemalan society more law-abiding than the one that I left at the turn of the century?

Back to the beautiful picture from LAGDP, and it is beautiful: the colours, the angle, the people, the objects, the light, I can go on and on. It is evident that Rudy HAD to ask for permission or at least let Jacques (now we even know his name) acknowledge his intentions because he is very close. But that probably was not 100% necessary for the couple passing by, and yet the post is tagged making reference to them. I hope my post doesn't make more waves than it is intended to, just some tumbos to feed the dialog about privacy and geographical differences in terms of laws, expectations, and customs.

Episode 6: A New Hope

It just happens that tomorrow is the "Toma de posesión" (the equivalent to what in the U.S. they call "Inauguration Day" or something like that) of the new Guatemalan President, Alvaro Colom. As I said in my pre-run-off post[es] I am just too happy to be 3,000 Km away from my motherland. That is because even though there seems to be a new hope, well, that the official party is called the National Unity of Hope (UNE for its initials in Spanish), there is also a lot of expectation and uncertainness. As it has been portrayed within and without the borders of Guate, the future government will be the "first social-democrat" government of the new era of democratically elected presidents since 1986. It will actually be the sixth such president of what some call the Second Republic (cf. "La Tercera Republica"[es]). I've been "without" Guatemala for too long and now I don't recognize any of the names of the new cabinet and have to rely on what my relatives tell me about political figures.

I do remember Alvaro Colom and his first bid for the presidency back in 1999, and before that as the head of one of the social funds the government created as a short-term solution or as part of the commitments with the international community previous to the signing of the peace agreements of 1996. I remember all the hoopla when he was ordained a "Mayan Priest", which coming from the ladino ethnic background (not really Mayan, not really White, not really nothing, the group to which incidentally I belong) is not only uncommon, but at the time probably even "frown upon" by the dominant elite. So he might have had a good start on stepping on people's toes, or on knowing what to do to get the favour of the many, whom eventually elected him. Again, being outside the borders of the unreality that Guatemala is, (to borrow a phrase from Nothing is permanent[es]) might give me a skewed view of my beloved motherland. Thus I rely on two sources: My relatives and online Guatemalan newspapers (mainly Prensa Libre and elPeriódico). From the first source I can tell that one of the most fierce critics of the new government, my mom, already gave me a couple of hints that there might be reason for "hope" or at least to give the future president, "the benefit of the doubt".

From the second source I selected a few headlines from today's Prensa Libre(PL), the original articles are in Spanish and I have loosely translated the headlines:

The country gets political relevance
Here PL makes a description of the previous "pass of the torch" events in the recent history of Guatemala and the international delegations that have been present. Comparatively it seems Guatemala is the place to be for the who's who of Latin American politics. Even the president of Venezuela... imagine Hugo Chavez himself, the saint or devil that negotiated recently the release of hostages from the FARC, one of the last of the guerrilla groups in the continent. You would think that North American media would be all over Guatemala... but no headlines yet. Also, the president of Taiwan, who just had a political defeat back home is already in Guate for tomorrow's event. So, indirectly, yes, Guatemala is in the news "up" here, just not mentioned by name.

Uphill road begins for Colom
This was the main article of the print edition (pdf) of PL for today, Sunday 13 January. It is an extensive piece on all the promises and expectations that a left-leaning government made and will have to live up to. I like the picture of Alvaro Colom getting a haircut that accompanies the article. It makes him look like a little kid preparing for a recital or something. I think this is the right time for an inside joke: You would think that a social-democrat leader would look like Jack Layton , but really, Alvaro Colom looks and feels more like Stéphane Dion. The Air Farce would have a field trip with a government lead by someone like Colom. And Guatemalans in general actually do. Just look at some of the other headlines:

The end of the reign of the mustache
It seems that the head of state of Guatemala for the past 40 odd years has always had a mustache. Go figure. More interestingly, when I checked this article earlier today there was a full essay on why this could be, including a great insight that mentioned the Spanish Conquistadores and now it has been reduced to a simple bland paragraph sprinkled with factoids. Hopefully the print edition kept this good insight that the digital version lost.

Nicknames haunts presidents & Sparrowhawk will succeed Rabbit
Two almost identical pieces of journalism, but with different titles. The art of redundancy at its best. Both (or either) of the articles fail to be as funny as their titles promise. I would have never thought, though, that I will read on a respectable publication that the nickname of a former president was Marrano (Pig), which it was, but hey show some respect. Oh, yes, this president tried to abolish the congress and become supreme dictator and then had to run to Panama to avoid being tried for corruption and whatnot. Still, he was voted in by the people at some point. History aside, it seemed very tamed to call the future president "Sparrowhawk" because it is his nahual or guiding animal (remember that Alvaro Colom is an ordained Mayan priest after all). Where is the irreverence shown towards former presidents? PL is no fun!

Ok, so good luck Guatemala and congratulations to the new government and now is time to take care of business. Since I haven't been called back to occupy any ministerial position I guess my time to be repatriated hasn't come yet (wink wink). Maybe on the next government...

The little country after Mexico...

"Every time I look at Time magazine or The New York Times I find myself skipping over the articles on, for example, Ethiopia. Out of guilt I make myself go back and read them, imagining how uninteresting the same kind of articles of Guatemala must seem to the average citizen of the world"
From The Long Night of White Chickens(p.150) by Francisco Goldman

The most recent post in HFH motivated me to start putting down some of the ideas I have been brewing about Guatemala and its violent past, present, and unfortunately, future. LD (the blogger behind HFH), as a freelance journalist reporting from Guatemala earlier in the present decade, probably saw or was more aware of the tragedy that is living in my motherland for millions of people more than what I experienced in the almost 25 years I spent there. Probably is the stoicism or cynicism you develop from having been born in such a violent society. Probably it was that I was fortunate (as is my family still, knock on wood) of having been somewhat spared by the effects of the civil war. However, on a lighter previous post on HFH, where I tried to contribute to a list of things that makes you Guatemalteca/o one of the thoughts that came immediately into my head and I didn't add to my comment was this:

You (know you are Guatemalteca/o if you)or someone you know has been kidnapped, carjacked, mugged or assassinated.

That seems to be the common denominator to the Guatemalan experience. And the issue is that I could mention the couple of encounters with common violence that I had almost ten years ago and they are dwarfed by the level of terror (or complete numbness) that the population of my country of origin, that little country after Mexico lives in. More than once I have repeated to people here in Canada when I see the blank look in their eyes when I say Guatemala: "there is Canada, then the States, then Mexico, and then Guatemala". It is not as frequent as I used to think, and really one cannot know the exact location of every single country in the world. But, what is really shocking is the lack of coverage there is about Guatemala.
A link on the HFH post lead me to an article on the Canadian newspaper The Globe and Mail titled "Anatomy of a shootout". It seems to be the first of a series of articles about Guatemala AND the role of Canadians (mainly NGOs) in the process of bringing peace and safety through a proper judicial system to the third world nation that I love with all my heart. It reads like an update on the post-war crime and violence situation, with that little "feel-good" Canadian section on how good we are helping the poor them. For me is hard to digest because I am "we" and I am "them" (or was, at least). As LD points out, the attitude of many Canadians is that of "if it is not affecting me why should I care". There is even a comment by a reader, mentioned by LD, that blatantly states "In reality who really cares what happens in Guatamala(sic)" unless these savages decide to start crossing borders in mass all the way up to Canada like Mexicans did recently landing into Windsor, and God forbid if then they decide to ride up the 401 Highway and come to Toronto, wouldn't that be awful.
As LD says:

"And unfortunately, that's probably the opinion of a lot of people-- this is happening far away from me, what does it really matter? And sometimes those are the people I was thinking about when I was reporting from Guatemala. Did anyone really care when I did those reports? Are those the stories that, when they came on the radio, were basically like background music, as people did whatever else? It's always so much easier to "sell" a local story-- someone being killed down the block or whatever else is going on down the street. People's ears perk up when they hear about something they know, when they can visualize the street or area or city. But when there's killing in Pakistan or Kenya or Guatemala, some people just don't care."

I agree and I think it must be even harder to "sell" Guatemala. Because it seems to me that Pakistan and Kenya are more on the spotlight these days for their eruptions of violence. Guatemala's violence doesn't seem to have much echo maybe because it is a chronic problem, not an acute response to an event. Maybe because there is no clear "enemy" anymore. Because more than 10 years after the peace accords in Guatemala there is no face we can put to the "parties" involved and thus no mediation is possible. I remember years ago hearing someone saying that humanity doesn't see issues as "problems" until they can see that there is a potential solution, the example given was illiteracy. In any case, maybe there is no solution to the situation in Guatemala. Maybe we should lose all hope that a new government can do anything. Maybe it would have been better for an alleged genocide (take your pick) to become president of my motherland so that the rest of the world could look back at the little country where I left my umbilical cord buried. Yes, there is a new government being sworn in next 14 of January in Guatemala. But not even a comment by Venezuelan president Hugo Chavez that he won't attend the ceremony for fear of a potential U.S. backed assassination attempt against him in Guatemala made the national media here in Canada take notice. RomeroGT (click here for post in Spanish) is making a call to fellow Guatemaltecos/as to embrace citizen participation, because democracy doesn't end with putting an X on a ballot. He is also urging people to understand the ideology of the "left leaning" or "social-democrat" people that will become the official party.
Guatemala is a hard sell product. I know it. But I hope that little by little there is more awareness and attention to what is happening, and has been happening for decades, if not centuries, in this third world country. Is not an issue of "Human Rights" as they are usually portrayed, but of Human Dignity. The issues that underlie the current situation won't be solved with a new government, or with social cleansing, or with revenge, or with hand me downs to the poorer masses, or with polarizing the society between urban and rural areas. I have no solution either to propose. What I feel is that there is something missing in Guatemala, a national identity, and that cannot be achieved without before having education, work, safety, health, justice, peace.

Manolo v. 4.1 to be released Jan. 3

TORONTO, ON (elToronteco). The launching of version 4.1 of the operative system (OS) Manolo is expected to take place in Corso Italia this next Thursday, 3 January 2008, was announced on a recent press release by Manolo & Co. A summary of the previous versions and releases will give an idea of the impact that the new features of v. 4.1 introduces and/or refines from previous incarnations of this reliable but fairly unknown OS. One of this main new features is the capability of full deployment as a stand alone OS, while being more efficient for networking. Here is a "condensed" history of Manolo:

Manolo v.1 Originally created in 1975, Manolo came with factory defaults shared with other OS of the time, such as RomeroGT. These defaults made Manolo quite successful in the deployment of work (and study) routines. Due to its ability to manage data from different sources simultaneously and to efficiently handle complex software applications version 1 didn't need many changes for more than a decade and a half. At that point, though, the appearance of loops and other bugs made it start to get hung up when trying to run programs related to both past and future. One of the original main developers of Manolo started using the term "growing pains" to describe the difficulties version 1 started having. She still uses appropriately this term for the motivations behind the release of 4.1.
V.1.2 was launched on January of 1993 in what came to be some of the most formative years and the successful use of Manolo in networks beyond academic environments. An expanded self-reflection sub-routine produced a paradigm change in the belief system that had already been questioned by v.1.1. Version 1.2 specialized in one field of study, Psychology, but had consistently add-ons from other disciplines, in particular Anthropology, Mathematics and to a certain extent Education.
V.1.2 SP1 For the first two or three years of the marketing of Manolo 1.2 there was flirting with the idea of introducing a Service Package (SP) to solve some of the bugs and loops encountered by upgrading from v.1.0 to v.1.1 in the late 80s and early 90s. In 1995, after a couple of attempts in producing such SP, Manolo started to run using SP1. SP1 transformed some of the networking features of Manolo and created a branding issue by producing a dependency on services packages for subsequent versions of this OS.

Manolo 2.0 Shortly after the introduction of SP2, the first program in Psychology was discontinued due to succesful completion. However, the developing team wasn't prepared for the mayor changes that V 2.0 was going through. SP2 was upgraded to fiancée and eventually to spouse. There were more working packages installed. There was a reframing of the belief system, clearly influenced by SP2. And finally was the relocation of the headquarters of the software company that produces Manolo from Guatemala to Canada. There were fatal errors in the different upgrades of SP2. And in June of 2001 a Beta version of Manolo 3.0 had to be introduced as a stand-alone OS.

Manolo 3.0 Since the release of V.2.2 the Psychology software packages were discontinued, although some of the background processes were still running at the startup of the OS. Manolo 3.0 (Beta) had, therefore, a new Insurance and Financial suite and there was even talks of introducing an MBA upgrade, potentially for versions 3.1 or 3.2. Remember that the Beta version of Manolo 3.0 was a stand alone version. The final release of V. 3.0 included the SP3, which indirectly created a resurgence of academic and research programming in Manolo.
Version 3.1 was the first release to be done in Toronto and came with an MA suite that needed some time to run properly. It also continued the in-house installation of SP3 that came standard in the last version produced in Waterloo (v.3.05). The integration of Manolo to SP3 was so organic that sometimes Manolo 3.0 is simply called Manolo SP3, which may have confused some of the users of the OS. Historically, even though there have been three service packages and, up to this point in the story, three versions of Manolo, there is no one to one match between them. Actually both SP1 and SP2 were added to solve bugs on the last few releases of V 1.0.
Due to decisions in the direction of the company, Manolo 3.1 tried to discontinue or had limited use of some of the software developed in the original headquarters in Guatemala. There were issues with international trade agreements that also made it difficult for the transportation of Manolo to its casa matriz. However, Manolo 3.2 re-introduced some new versions of the software packages that version 1 had made popular, including the Guatemalan identity, the Cultural Studies and Anthropology and the Mathematics module, this last one now targeted to Statistics.
It is important to mention that the different Service Packages were not developed by the same company that produces Manolo. The SPs have always been outsourced and there is always the issue of full compatibility. There were upgrades in SP3 that started discussions on the drawing board of Manolo 3.3 about making it a semi stand-alone OS, but keeping SP3 as part of Manolo. Because of the implications of the marketing mix- up of Manolo 3 and Manolo SP3 and a new turn in terms of software innovation, Manolo 3.3 was never released.
Manolo 4.0 The fourth version of Manolo was launched in September of the recently defunct 2007. It no longer included a Service Package, but was still dependent on other idle processes to run. A very unsuccessful release of 4.05 in October was highly publicized along with a move of the company from North York to Corso Italia (the St. Clair West and Dufferin area). For many reasons, the launch of Manolo 4.1 was pulled back from the Spring of 2008 to 3 January. These are some of the new features of this new version of Manolo:

• No more Service Packages. The concept of the SP was introduced as a "patch" for the OS. Subsequent releases and versions of Manolo would look forward for compatibility and integration, more than "solutions" to endless loops and chronic bugs. This integration with other systems will presuppose a merging of the software companies and not only agreements to produce SPs for Manolo.
  


• Full Stand-Alone version. The moving forward, not only of the headquarters but also of the philosophy of the company that develops Manolo, will have Manolo 4.1 running completely by itself of the first time ever. "These are exciting times for this organization" the re-freshed CEO of Manolo & Co. stated on a press release last month in Toronto. However, Manolo 4.1 will still be an efficient OS for networking and will rely on the strategic partnerships it has created during the more than three decades on the market


• Work and Play upgrades. It is expected that this release and subsequent releases of version 4 will be able to complete the PhD program introduced on Manolo 3.2. A more efficient usage of virtual memory will hopefully provide with a better use of resources not only in research but also for entertainment possibilities.

Due to the relocation of the developing facilities of Manolo & Co. and the preparations for the launching of Manolo 4.1 the company announced a closing of operations for 2 January. Any pending replies and communications should resume no later than next Friday. The press release finishes with this statement: "Manolo & Co. would like to thank all the end-users and retailers for their continuing support and hopes that Manolo 4.1 would be soon embraced (and will embrace back) by old and new loyal costumers".

I am joining the circus...

I know some of you already think I am in a circus or that I am really just a clown. However, this is serious, I have made some important decisions lately. After hours, days, weeks, months, years of reflecting on the need I have of a change I have come to the conclusion that I am not made for Grad School. Thus, I have decided life is too short and what I really want to do is to be a playwright and, as my intuition told me more than a decade ago, in order to do so I need to be an actor first. I did some amateur theatre in university as part of the Grupo de Teatro de la Universidad del Valle de Guatemala and eventually my one and only play was presented a couple of times, so there is a precedent of success on this avenue. I am selling all my stuff and sneaking out of Canada so my debtors don't catch me.

You see, life is the best school, and I have learned to play all these different characters throughout the years. Why not apply this knowledge and become a professional actor? I haven't decided yet if I am going to try my luck first here:

Although everyone tries to "make it" in that city and I haven't found the taste for musicals yet. There are alternatives, like trying to be part of the Guignol theatre in this other city:


But then again, my absurd delusions of grandeur would push me towards other cities, with the dream of acting or presenting my plays in places like this:


But really I will have to learn other trades like pickpocketing and work in areas full of unsuspecting tourists, like this one.


And then again, being around so many "artists" I may pick more than pockets and make my own paintings. This city above might feel too passée and the market too crowded. I will eventually will move to other places, like a nomad or a gypsy and sell my work in plazas like this one:


It seems I have a plan. I just need to stick to it.

Por inocentes
No, I am just pulling your leg! Because today is the Day of the Innocent Saints, which is the Guatemalan (do other countries celebrate it?) equivalent of April fool's day. El día de los inocentes actually has quite the macabre origin. For those of you who are Christian and/or paid attention in Sunday School or in Cathecism class, you will remember that Joseph had a warning from an angel telling him to take his wife and newborn child away to Egypt because Herod the king was murdering all the children under the age of two (I think) to get rid of potential competition. Herod had been alerted (unintentionally) by the Maggi of the birth of a new King and started the bloodshed. Well, the "Innocent Saints" are all these babies and toddlers that gave their lives to protect the Newborn King.

I have so many emotional imprints of trying to come up with good tricks to play on my brother and the rest of my family for the Day of the Innocents. There is usually a tongue-in-cheek column or fake news piece by some smarty-pants journalist that comes out this day. So, there you go, your "Traditions from Guatemala" minute along with some "exotic" photographs and a Bible lesson, what more can you ask from a post?

Home for the holidays

‘Home’ has become such a scattered,
damaged, various concept in our present travails.
From "At the auction of the ruby slippers"
by Salman Rushdie‡

No, I am not catching a plane at the last minute to visit my family, my beloved family, in the warmer (everything is relative) Guatemala, my motherland. Neither have I bought a "home" a marketing term for a "house" (Aeronica, the Nicaraguan national airline, had a nice slogan: "Your origin, your destiny". Another great example of the marketing of this "blessed word") . (Un)fortunately I have not found or outbid for the ruby slippers either (more on this below). What I am doing is making a conscious decision of staying home. Settling down is a phrase that comes to my mind, though not in its common use. The Spanish term "sentar cabeza" literally means "to seat your head down". That is what I am doing, putting my head on the ground and calling whatever piece of ground I am standing in HOME.

Home is a high commodity. It trades at inflated prices particularly around the end of the Gregorian calendar year. After getting my citizenship in 2005 I decided to visit my family as soon as work let me. I compared ticket prices for traveling at the end of December, against traveling in February, for Reading Week. The ticket was a third cheaper for Reading Week (OK, it was approx $400 less but 1/3 sounds more dramatic). In that time of my life, coincidentally, I was still saying "home" to refer to my motherland, little did I know that I was near the end of a period of denial of my Guatemalan identity.

Thus, becoming a Canadian citizen started a struggle within myself about my newly acquired dual citizenship, and thus the emergence of an authentic mixed identity. I haven't been introduced to terms as Native Informant or Migrant Hybrid yet, but events would unfold during 2006, after my visit to Guatemala, that will lead me to the changes that occurred in 2007. I think right now that in February of 2006 was my last trip home to Guatemala. Last August I went to my dear "country of origin", where I do feel at home. I decided to start calling it my motherland, "mi matria", because it conveys the welcoming attitude of a mother, of my mother, towards me.

During Spring and Summer of this year I started to play with the idea of the ruby slippers. Where would I end up if I put them on (they would look cute on me, wouldn't they?) and say those magic words "There is no place like home"? Would I end up like some Star Trek transporter mishap, my particles scattered all over the universe? Would I end up in someone's arms? Would I implode in my own self absorption? I have no answer yet. Must of the people on my blogroll share this conflict with me one way or the other. We have left parts of our heart spread in different parts of the world. We have crossed borders, inside or outside our countries, for different reasons and stay longer than the length of a vacation or a work contract or a study period. We have invested our emotions and thoughts about these multiple cities, provinces, lands and nations and their relationship towards our selves.

One of these fellow migrants who actually returned to the motherland, Ronald, my dearest friend and dialog partner, directed me towards a short tale by Rushdie found on "East, West" that also made reference to the ruby slippers. I recently read it. I reproduce below the paragraph that starts with the sentence I chose for my epigraph:

‘Home’ has become such a scattered, damaged, various concept in our present travails. There is so much to yearn for. There are so few rainbows any more. How hard can we expect even a pair of magic shoes to work? They promised to take us home, but are metaphors of homeliness comprehensible to them, are abstractions permissible? Are they literalists, or will they permit us to redefine the blessed word. p. 93 ‡

Home as an abstraction... not as a place... not as some walls and a roof (and hopefully a fireplace) with some doors and a lock. Not as a land, the land where our umbilical cord is buried, or where we grew up. Safe haven, security base are terms borrowed from attachment theory that are intimately related to home. And yet, the idea of this security base implies exploration. What home doesn't know is that exploration will lead to the finding of other homes. Of places where we feel safe, where we grow up.

Home is not Canada for me... neither is Guatemala... is not Toronto, or Waterloo, or zona 18 or zona 14 in La Capital. Home is here, wherever I am, wherever I decide to live, love, and thrive. And therefore, for this year, maybe after many years of not doing so, I'll be home for the holidays.



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‡ Rushdie, S. (1994). East, West: stories. New York: Pantheon Books.

For when I am ready...

Je fais souvent ce rêve étrange et pénétrant
D'une femme inconnue, et que j'aime, et qui m'aime,
Et qui n'est, chaque fois, ni tout à fait la même
Ni tout à fait une autre, et m'aime et me comprend.
From "Mon rêve familier" (Paul Verlaine)

Yes, I am thinking about you while I am looking for myself out here. I don't know who you are or if we have already met. However, I needed to write these lines to you. Right now I am not ready, I know it, I know that for sure. And I keep repeating this to myself (my self) so that I understand it well. I've been bouncing from here to there, using my heart as a squash ball, always coming back to me. I never give it up and I never give it in. I have kept the key to my heart all the time. For that I apologize to the wonderful women that have had to endure me as a partner.

I hope you don't get put off by this past, this baggage I am carrying. I hope that you will understand and I hope that I will understand your own past as well. And this hope is what makes me write this letter to the wind on this snowy Sunday of December. Maybe it is solitude (the one that throws you towards the arms of lust); maybe it is listening to stories on the radio about older couples dancing around and catching each other like safety nets and then listening to a beautiful song called (as the radio essay was titled as well) Dance if you want to by Rose Cousins. Maybe it is watching re-runs of that favourite show of mine, Mad about you, and realizing I am now the age of the characters and how on my twenties I used to dream of that life, of that loving partnership of being able to laugh at each other and at oneself with each other. Of that wonderful bond.

My friend JBug says we men don't have a biological clock, but a psychological one and that it does tick in the early thirties. He must know because he is a 40-year old bachelor with a similar history than mine, I have always thought. Although he is a dear friend I really don't want to be like him in ten years. In ten years I want to be with you...

I don't know where, and I don't know doing what, I just know I want to be with you. If there are children, just our life will tell. I want to share parenthood with you and I hope you want it too. I am certain that the love I have to give (and that I have kept to myself all this time) is enough to be my share of the loving bond that spouses have and that is the basis for a family. And still I cannot give it to you right now. That much I know.

I have a promising future, and usually I use this term sarcastically to refer to the career I will have after grad school, that land of milk and honey that has been promised to those of us who have taken the long way home. But this time I am not being sarcastic about my future. I am being honest. I should rephrase that... WE have a promising future. You and me. For when I am ready the possibility of US will be opened.

For now this is what I have to say to you. You may be reading this right now or in the future. Or you will never read it. I might already be talking to you or you might be in other continent or across the street. I don't know and right now I don't want to know. With these lines I am attempting to create a dam for the torrent I feel uncontrollably every day, the drive of going after you and finding you and telling you all this. Because now is out there, in the open. And is my wish that this cold weather freezes that torrent and turns it into a frozen avenue where we can one day skate hand in hand... and then run inside for some nice hot chocolate.