...editing "weekly" to "biweekly." I'm tired of you hounding me about not posting every Sunday. It didn't even crossed my mind last week until a day after. It'd be so easy, too, just a few clicks of the mouse and few taps of some keys and vuala, a new standard. I guess it is that easy to change our standards in everyday* life as well. Decide you want to work less or exercise less and poof , done, that easy, standard lowered. And what's the big deal? Practice your skill, whatever it is--fishing, woodworking, sailing--practice an hour or two less each week and what's going to happen? No pasa nada, todo bien. You might not achieve your dreams as a result, but what's the big deal about achieving dreams, anyhow? Having a stable, rewarding, challenging, worthy job, decent health, and a even more healthy family--that's the real dream, hain't? That ideal vision of the future you have for yourself as a professional whatever, that's, well that's...
I've been writing a story in Spanish with about the same consistency and dedication of those I've written in English. Man, if you think writing reader-worthy fiction in your native language is hard, try writing it in a second one. Despite the difficulty with which I write and the trudging pace at which the story is progressing, there's a decent network of plot I got going on. I'm going to share some of it with you. But...I've come back to this part of the draft after finishing it and now don't feel like translating the excerpt. What? Come on. Cut me a break. My butt hurts and my breath stinks from the inaugural meal of sardine, black bean, jalapeno tacos (I'm living in my own place now, hence the "inaugural meal" talk). But listen, I'm going to post the Spanish version below. You can translate it if you want to get an idea, and next week--or whenever--I'll give you the real deal. How easy it is to translate something you've written.
"Un día, bajo el mar, un grupo de peces linternas comían en paz. De repente, llegaron unos delfines entrando y saliendo en todas direcciones como unas balas. Devoraron diez peces con cada ataque. Porque había muchos peces en el grupo, miles de millones, lo seguro fue permanecer con el grupo y correr el riesgo. Lo más probable fue que sobrevivieras el ataque. Pero uno pez linterna no era valiente. Ignacio se asustó cuando sus amigos fueron comidos. Ignacio él mismo fue casi comido, pero él se escapó del delfine sin parte de su cola. Ignacio tuvo miedo y nervios. Decidió salir del grupo, algo que ningún pez había hecho antes de él. Ningunos peces notaron que Ignacio nadaba fuera de sincronía con su grupo. Él estuvo un trozo de caos en una sinfonía acosado con pestes mortales. Pero la sinfonía continuó tocar, por este momento debido al hecho de que ellos habían practicado , practicaron sin pensamiento o palabras entre ellos . Ignacio nadaba todo derecho mientras todas los demás nadaban juntos esto y aquello camino. Sus compañeros le golpearon y le preguntaron a dónde iba pero no pensaron en seguirlo. Después de una curva rápido del grupo, Ignacio estaba solo, cara a cara con un delfín por un instante,Luego, sin que el delfín le vio, porque Ignacio era fácil de olvidar, el asesino de torpedo disparó hacia el grupo. Ignacio veía mientras su familia y sus amigos nadaban lejos, incontable delfines disparaban por la masa bailando . Luego él estuvo solo y rodeado de un mundo de azul oscuro y un vasto desconocido."
The first few months at site were blessedly healthy for me. I didn't have any problems with diarrhea or anything, but the past two weeks were different. After watching Shamokin's tough loss to MCA on YouTube, I was inundated by a horrendous migraine, I mean it was debilitating. It came on that night, and I hardly slept. The pain was constant and dull, like a metal finger was being hydraulically pressed into my forehead with just the right amount of force. I stayed in bed throughout the day, unwilling and hardly able to do anything--thankfully it was the weekend. After talking to an excellent member of the Peace Corps Mexico medical staff, una Nica, Mariano, he prescribed me some OTC migraine meds. They were sublingual and tasted like bitter Tic-Tacs (orange of course). The meds worked about as gradually as a season change, and I was back on my feet for class on Monday. I rarely get migraines that bad--I'm talking like once every few years--so, call me crazy, but I honestly believe it was brought on by another year without the Coal Bucket. Being so far from Kemp Memorial and that close, yet again, to bringing it home, I was devastated. Part of me didn't want to win because I wanted to be in town for the epic celebration, but that selfish part of me was outweighed by the part that wanted to win for the kids, the school, and the town. Alas, another edition of the consolatory "maybe next year."
On Thursday I went to Puebla City to report an address change. I was mentally prepared to take the bus but found a coworker with a car who was also making the the two hour trip (in a bus it's closer to four with a real feel of about eight). I got to immigration ten minutes before open and was about the tenth party in line. It was a bit strange to see people of varying skin colors. Tepexi is a small town. Everybody's brown just like, mostly, everybody's white in Shamokin, PA. A palette of humanity was represented in the line, and it was nice to see. The wait was short and the process was smooth--the latter thanks to the footwork of PC Mexico staff. My coworker Dani and ran some errands afterwards, and I had my first craft beer in Mexico, a stout--a little flat and nothing to write home about but a stout nonetheless. I also had a Mexican pizza and a gas station sandwich on the trip. Well wouldn't you know I was knocked out again, but this time the problem was more southerly, more...messy. I spewed, I pooed, and I was again bed-bound for the remainder of Thursday and immediately after class on Friday. We were told that our service would include "high highs" and "low lows," but isn't that how life always is for most of us?
The biggest news this week is me moving into a new place. My time with the la familia Aranguthy en la Colonia was fantastic, and I didn't move far because I will be visiting them often. Plus, my favorite dog of theirs, Longara, just had puppies, so I need to go back soon and let them crawl all over me and lick my face while I lie helpless on the ground from cuteness overload. Anywho, the place is small, just one big room with a bed, table, armoire, and full bath before I moved in. Now I have a fridge, two beds conjoined, and another table. It's not much, but it's all I need. The shower drains slowly and water spills into the main room, and the windows have no screens yet, so it gets a little stale and warm, but these faults will be fixed in time. Poco a Poco. A little patience goes a long way. Live with less for a while and you'll appreciate it when--or if 😕--you earn more.
Ok, that's all for now.
What? No Random Wrap-Up? They're my favorite part of the blog.
I know. They are great. Next week, or maybe next post is better, "Poco a Poco: Random Wrap-Up Edition."
Yay! You gonna change the description or what? Gonna improve less and be less disciplined? Shouldn't be a problem.
Who invited you to this blog anyway?
😉
¡Hasta la próxima!
*I spell "everyday" when used as an adjective and "every day" for the noun phrase. E.g. "Every day, everyday people like you and me chip a tooth on peanut brittle."
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