I was at Virginia's, baking cookies for my host family, while on her TV - a documentary on caves - glow worms and cockroaches were eating and defecating. And then I was at my host family's, watching "Home Alone," and I liked being reminded of childhood, home, but as soon as they leave him - before he can scream - I have to go, because it's time to be at Debora's, baking cookies for the church's evening service, while on her TV, Goku - hero - releases explosive amounts of energy, and then the Palestinian's face - his face - ... - and then I'm outside, amidst a world of people all eating and defecating, and after the boys passing out candles outside of a church, for three whole blocks there's no sign of the Christian holiday other than the decorations on the store where the rich people shop - and then I'm riding behind her on her motorcylce - and why do I want to embrace her? - and why not - and it's Christmas Eve, and I'm stressed, I'm stressed, I'm happily stressed, and I'm home again but not quite alone, and I do want to be part of this family - "Blake Djerma" - "Djerma, Blake" - and the TV is singing "
The...
little....
lord Jesus...
no crying...
he...
makes...
"But why not? WHY NOT?!? I want my baby Jesus to cry, to weep in Mary's arms, and I want to weep in my mother's arms, and I want a candle and a quiet to reflect, and now that I've eaten - there were cookies - it's time for me to defecate.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
", things you notice, and what you think about "
I notice the faces of old people. Old men, who I see walking along the shoulder of the road beneath cone-shaped hats. Hats similar to, but smaller than, the hats I picture atop Southeast Asians stooping in rice fields. Sometimes these old men carry small bundles, not unlike the stereotypical bag-on-a-stick-over-the-shoulder, and if there's no indication that they have just come from somewhere or are on their way to a particular destination, I like to imagine that they're constant travelers, wandering the roads of Burkina Faso - roads only recently paved in their memories - living off of ancient wisdom in the form of punch-line proverbs and the generosity of strangers.
Or the faces of elderly women working in the sun. Yesterday I passed a magnificently old woman who was pushing a wheelbarrow down the street. When I see scenes like that I always wonder: does she have a family that she is working to support? Has she spent 80% of her life working for the welfare of grandparents and then parents and then children and grandchildren and finally great-grandchildren? Or must she work because there is no family, no one left to support her? Perhaps the contents of the wheelbarrow might have offered a clue as to which is the case, but I didn't take note of what was in the wheelbarrow - my eyes couldn't leave her face. I only remember it as a wheelbarrow full of the color green. I think of colors as weightless. I hope for her sake that this was the case.
Virginia told me that she likes the faces of the elderly because of how much character they show. I think of literary theory and discussions of how meanings and characters (as understood by the reader) are created as much by the the reader as by the author, and I wonder whether, in reading faces, the character is placed there as much by the viewer as by the face being read. In seeing an old face, a face folded by years of smiles and sunlight and winces of pain, I know that I'm seeing a person who has lived through a lot. I think this allows one's imagination more room in which to work when recreating their lives, and telling the stories hidden deep in the wrinkles.
.... So anyway, I think I'm saying I might have a bias in favor of the elderly when it comes to making assumptions about a person's character. So if you're old, good news! I think you're great! Conversely, if I think you're great, good news! I probably I think you're old.
p.s.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I love you SO MUCH! You're the greatest.
Blake
Or the faces of elderly women working in the sun. Yesterday I passed a magnificently old woman who was pushing a wheelbarrow down the street. When I see scenes like that I always wonder: does she have a family that she is working to support? Has she spent 80% of her life working for the welfare of grandparents and then parents and then children and grandchildren and finally great-grandchildren? Or must she work because there is no family, no one left to support her? Perhaps the contents of the wheelbarrow might have offered a clue as to which is the case, but I didn't take note of what was in the wheelbarrow - my eyes couldn't leave her face. I only remember it as a wheelbarrow full of the color green. I think of colors as weightless. I hope for her sake that this was the case.
Virginia told me that she likes the faces of the elderly because of how much character they show. I think of literary theory and discussions of how meanings and characters (as understood by the reader) are created as much by the the reader as by the author, and I wonder whether, in reading faces, the character is placed there as much by the viewer as by the face being read. In seeing an old face, a face folded by years of smiles and sunlight and winces of pain, I know that I'm seeing a person who has lived through a lot. I think this allows one's imagination more room in which to work when recreating their lives, and telling the stories hidden deep in the wrinkles.
.... So anyway, I think I'm saying I might have a bias in favor of the elderly when it comes to making assumptions about a person's character. So if you're old, good news! I think you're great! Conversely, if I think you're great, good news! I probably I think you're old.
p.s.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I love you SO MUCH! You're the greatest.
Blake
Friday, December 11, 2009
Happy Independence Day!
Today is a national holiday. I don't have to work.
So I'm not going to work.
HA!
So I'm not going to work.
HA!
Saturday, December 5, 2009
I Miss You
My scrotum was the smallest it's been in months. Goosebumps were forming on my arms. The cool water had begun to feel warm. I was... was I? - YES! Shivering! I knew and didn't care that the current pleasantness of that sensation was entirely psychological. I was cold! There, showering, like usual, under the stars, I was cold. It was a welcome change.
The best way I can think of to give you an idea of the weather Burkina Faso is experiencing right now is to provide an excerpt from a breakfast conversation I had with my host mother the morning after the first night I decided not to use the fant that's in my room. Here's a rough translation:
Her: During the day it's not cold, but at night it's cold!
My response: Mmmmm. No, at night it's not hot, but during the day it's hot!
Living here, I miss more than anything else the temperate climate that I'm used to. I missed seeing leaves orange, yellow, and red. I miss frost and snow and ice-covered mailboxes.
I also miss studying and going to classes. The printer in my office doesn't get used much for work. The most recent things it's printed: an article on game theory, and 6 pages from an online textbook concerning the differences between the classical doppler effect and its relativistic corrections.
A quick non-person list of things I miss (that I haven't just mentioned):
The best way I can think of to give you an idea of the weather Burkina Faso is experiencing right now is to provide an excerpt from a breakfast conversation I had with my host mother the morning after the first night I decided not to use the fant that's in my room. Here's a rough translation:
Her: During the day it's not cold, but at night it's cold!
My response: Mmmmm. No, at night it's not hot, but during the day it's hot!
Living here, I miss more than anything else the temperate climate that I'm used to. I missed seeing leaves orange, yellow, and red. I miss frost and snow and ice-covered mailboxes.
I also miss studying and going to classes. The printer in my office doesn't get used much for work. The most recent things it's printed: an article on game theory, and 6 pages from an online textbook concerning the differences between the classical doppler effect and its relativistic corrections.
A quick non-person list of things I miss (that I haven't just mentioned):
- grass
- being able to say almost exactly what I mean
- air conditioning
- Mario Kart Wii
- living somewhere with a computer lab and a library
- Markio Kart Double Dash
- cheese
- Mario Kart '64
This was unintentional, but the list is probably pretty much in that order. Using numbers instead of bullets wouldn't have been misleading.
*wonders if he'll ever have a chance to turn the phrase "numbers, not bullets!" into a chant.*
Next time I organize a Mathematicians Against War rally...
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