progress

It's been about one year since my last post.* Time does fly, doesn't it? Since then, I've finished my Ph.D., said goodbye to my U.S. student-visa, secured a position at GPRC, moved into a great condo, met some new people, had some adventures, and got bangs. Busy year, eh? :)

What I've learned during this hiatus:

1) You have to give time time.
2) When someone you truly love dies, your heart breaks in ways that you didn't know were possible. And geographical distance does not affect the sincerity of that relationship.
3) When your heart does get broken, it grows back bigger and more open.
4) My family is my greatest fan.
5) A Ph.D. is a HUGE undertaking. It's a bitch, actually, but it can be done.
6) A steady paycheque of live-able wages makes a difference.
7) Pheasants are cool (despite what Sir S. thinks!)
8) Close friends can remain close despite ostensibly insurmountable distances.
9) You can only be as happy as you allow yourself to be.
10) My little Neon is a tough bugger.
11) Animals make me happy.
12) The art of conversation has been lost---I intend to find it again.
13) A wind chill of -52 Celsius is fucking cold.
14) Being on this side of 35 is pretty cool.
15) Magpies are cute and are not, like some folks believe, the rodents of the sky.
16) A little road trip can go a long way.
17) My body will not forsake me if I nurture it.
18) Taking chances can yield SENSATIONAL results.
19) The job I have is absolutely what I should be doing with my life.
20) Integrity still exists in this world--it's just hard to find sometimes.

*My thanks to S. whose recent conversation reminded me that this blog was here. I think it's time to rejuvenate it... not because I want/need to change the world with my thoughts, but because I'm a thinker, it's fun, and I'm a writer at heart. :)

moving

So I'm going home for the summer. I'll be dissertating and working out and spending time with family. Seems like a great plan, if you ask me. The only catch is that I've had to pack up my stuff...again. I'm up to three bins, a few boxes, several duffles/suitcases, two wire shelves, and a bike. I'm pretty moveable, it seems. Now if I could only get that mobility to enter into other parts of my life...

time

So it's been nearly 3 years--THREE YEARS!!--since I last posted. Several things have happened...some good, some great, some bad, some horrible. All in all, though, I'm not worse for the wear. Now I'm on a new journey of fitness and finishing (the Ph.D., that is). Hopefully a few of you will follow along...

state

What is one to do when there is a terrible state of affairs?

State #1: Something one cannot control.

State #2: Something one has caused.

State #3: Something about which one is confused.


I s'pose one blogs and blogs and blogs and hopes there are ideas out there that can help provide tentative solutions for the state. Hmmm...

path

Frost said that "two roads diverged in a yellow wood" and he couldn't take both. Choosing one over the other, he discovers, "made all the difference." But who's to say what that path brings? I guess that's Frost's point--you don't know. The important thing to realize, I s'pose, is that you can't control it. You just leap and hope that a net will appear at some point (hopefully sooner rather than later). And you also have to believe that the universe will deliver what you need.

That's all very zen. Or something like that.

That being said, I'll leap and hope for the best...

woohoo!

I have an announcement:

I finished the AAUW International Fellowship application. It arrived in Iowa City (yes, Iowa City) via FedEx yesterday at 8:35am.

Yay!

---------------------------------------------
*The photo is from the International Freedom Festival fireworks display over the Detroit River this summer. I took it with my cell phone from the 10th floor of our office building. The view is looking South down Woodward Ave.--not too bad, eh?

gratitude

L to R: Cindy (hostess), me, Laura (she's Canadian too, eh?)

I celebrated my first official American Thanksgiving last week, November 23rd. It was a great day of food, fun, and fellowship... not to mention hard-core, high-stakes ping pong! Celebrating with friends (some old, some new) was a great feeling--we were adults.*

One thing I am thankful for: I do not have to eat tofurkey often. Phew! It really wasn't that bad, I s'pose. Tofurkey aside, I'm grateful to C. and D. for opening up their hearth and home to foreigners and orphans alike, on this, the day of uniting people, giving thanks for what we have, and enjoying each other's company. And I'm so glad we didn't do it "old school" by including a scalping or two. ;>

For more photos, check out www.newvick.shutterfly.com

____________________
*See the blog entry "pupa" for more on this adult issue.

silence?

I visited Annie Leibovitz's "American Music" exhibit at the DIA yesterday.*

Sure, they were great photos. Sure, she has nice cameras. Sure, she can hang w/ celebrities. But what does all of that mean other than she's well connected? I was disappointed in the descriptions of the images that I heard on the handy-dandy audio thing that they provide. She talked about how she wanted to find a road b/c some country singer sang about a road in one of her songs (or something like that). And there wasn't any music anywhere in the exhibit. When I asked the curator about the music--much to the embarrassment of my patient exhibit-mate--she fed me some info. about licensing. Hmpf.

So why is this bothersome? Well, I've been working on a fellowship application for the last little while. I'm supposed to prove that I'm the best candidate for the award based on the research that I do. If Annie Leibovitz can just "phone-in" her photos, why can't I just phone-in this application and say, "I'm the best applicant just because I am" and have them cut me a cheque/check? Wouldn't that be more fair?

It's like the photography gods provided an application and said, "If you are a good photographer and deserve to be exhibited in the DIA, check here." And Annie did.

I think the fellowship gods should provide an application where they say, "If you are a good scholar and deserve this fellowship, check here." Then I would. Simple, no?

(And don't even get me started on that Rothko painting we saw in another room!) ;>

----------------------
*The whole experience was a lot of fun not only b/c I could criticize the exhibit and photographer but b/c my judgmental comrade was amenable to the ridicule. (Thanks, J).

pupa*

*def: the stage between larva and adult for many insects.

So I'm in the pupa stage. Or at least it feels that way. The work I'm doing, the decisions I'm making, and the people I'm meeting all move me towards that "adult" stage and it feels good but it doesn't feel quite like it fits just yet.

At what point am I an adult? Just because I'm (well) over 18? Because I own my car? Because I teach? I don't really know. The word "adult" has always seemed synonymous with mortgage, sod 'n' decks, and having babies. Nowhere do I recall "financially-challenged grad. student" as part of the definition. While logically I know that there will be an end to this dissertation and that, technically, I have no limitations right now, I can't help but feel stunted.

Last night, though, there was a difference. While having gelato at a nice place in downtown Windsor, we watched (and heard) the 19-year-old drunkards stumbling to various bars wearing far too little clothing. At that point I saw a version of my old self and was glad that I wasn't there anymore. I was happy to figure out that "Anne" was the third Bronte sister, enjoyed discussing my dissertation project, and was grateful that I had wool mittens to put on when we left. And, I was relaxed. I guess that's a sign. I felt more like myself than I have in a long time. Finally. So, while I may think that I'm in the pupa stage, maybe I'm finding my own version of the adult stage. And, I quite like it. It's mine. And it's comfortable.

(With special thanks to J. for a really good evening, and to S. and D. for the gelato spot).

For J,

[This image was titled "Brazil Hurricane"--what a coinkidink!]

While my world has picked up some dramatic speed lately, I'm trying to maintain some calmness as I rest wearily in the eye of my own (self-indulgent?) hurricane. Was it Nietzsche who said that which doesn't kill us makes us stronger? It was someone smart, I know that.

I've neglected this blog for well over a month, so now I'll try to be more consistent with posting. (Thanks for the reminder, Miss J.) I see that your weather out in B.C. is much warmer than ours over here, eh? Relish it, I tell you. Relish it!

saudade ("sow-dajee" = missing/yearning)

So I've been back from Brasil for nearly two weeks. This trip turned out to be just what I needed, both academically and personally. It taught me several things but the most important thing I learned came out of experiencing a lifestyle that incorporates productivity and relaxation--the Brasilheiros get it, they really do. Work hard, play hard, and take some time to dance whenever you can. Oh, and cachacas can cure anything.

While the logistics of the trip were absurd--with great thanks to WSU for fucking up a lot of things--the experience itself was fantastic. I got to see a small part of that country and what I did see was beautiful, bright, tragic, dirty, spectacular, and heart-warming depending where we were.

I can't say that I have a favourite part, really, but some of the most poignant memories include:

-night-driving to Rio in a non-power-steering, 5-speed Fiat around "curvos perigrosos" (dangerous curves)
-seeing the lights of Belo Horizonte from a hilltop "forro" bar (type of dance similar to lambada)
-spending time with a truly international group at a cafe in Savassi (we had people from Greece, Lebanon, Britain, Brasil, France, New Zealand, and North America in one place, drinking beer, talking about travel and the world cup)
-experiencing a futbol game at Minerao stadium (unbelieveable!)
-enjoying the magical meats at any of the churrascarias we visited, and
-swimming ever-so-briefly in the frigid pool beneath the third tallest waterfall in Brasil (and the tallest in the state of Minas Gerais)

And the people: someone once told me that people/friendships come into our lives for a reason, a season, or for life. I made some good friends there, improved my friendships with my travelling buddies, and encountered some people who, for one reason or another, will remain as really great memories of an exciting time in my life. I think of them often, keep in touch with a few, and hope that our lives will eventually intersect again, but it will never be as it was. Sad, I guess, but wonderful to have shared that time and happy that I had the experience.

Now, as I sit here in Windsor, having gone through week one of the semester, there's a bittersweet sensation I can't seem to shake. I'm sad to have left and was happy with who I became while there, but there's something comforting and calming about home, especially in the fall. The smell of the trees and that slight shift in the air that indicates the change of seasons reminds me of the great things I have here. Brasil is Brasil. Home is home.

So, I'm back. I'm here. Physically, yes, but mentally, not always. I s'pose that will change eventually, but for now I'm enjoying looking out the window at the changing leaves of home and occasionally remembering the hills of Minas Gerais.

Home

There are no words.

Brasil

There are no words.

[sigh]

"Qoreitem" is the district of Beirut in which I was supposed to live. It's not going to stop, is it?

http://www.dailystar.com.lb/article.asp?edition_id=1&categ_id=1&article_id=74649

photos

For more photos, check R's blog: http://dattsme.blogspot.com/ (they're pretty good!)

Day ?: Ipe (circumflex over "e")

There is a tree in Brazil that creates phenomenal blossoms in bright yellow, purple, and magenta. It dots the hillsides in the sea of brown, dried plants and strikes the eye.

There's a good lesson in this little wonder: when winter comes all the vegetation dries up. The lush green-ness of the hills is replaced with brownish tones and dry grass. This ipe tree (pron. "eepay") looks dead like all the other plants but, as the story goes, when least expected it gives one more set of blooms. Some say that these are the most beautiful flowers it produces. They say that it blooms one last time to show us that even when we think we have no more to give, that there is no hope, we all have the ability to bloom once more and that, maybe, it will be our most beautiful blossom yet.

Kinda cheesy? Maybe. But I like it.

Day Nine/Ten: Hein? (Eh?)

I love those days when you start off doing something relatively normal, say, sightseeing at Ouro Preto (17th century town with 365 churches--there's a whole story about hiding gold from the Portuguese that I can tell to those interested).

Next thing you know you're in a dance studio learning to samba with a professional dancer from Rio de Janeiro.

Expecting to come back to the pousada for sleep, you end up going out to dinner at Barro Beer (nice dining area) around 11:30pm, eating some of the best "fajou de tropeiro" you've ever had, followed by a sketchy walk to "Churrascaria de Manuel".

Who else would you expect to meet at a churrascaria but friends of Waldin (one of the guys we met last weekend), a German exchange student and his Brazilian friend, and Juliano from the "churrascarizinho" (small churrascaria)?

The final stop? Back to Barro Beer for dancing to some fucking kick-ass Brazilian techno, caipirinhas, and several "friendly" Brazilians in the V.I.P. area! Apparently, Juliano is a good guy to know!

A night that foreshadowed relaxation and getting some work done turned into a 5:20am taxi ride back to the pousada for a few hours of sleep before we're off to an authentic Indian lunch with one of the UFMG professors and a weekend that promises samba, a theatre-festival party, and my new German friend. ;>

Unbelieveable.