...nothing is settled. Not yet.... I am officially in the vortex of transitioning transitional transitions. I did finally get an office in which to work. I even got my name on the door. It's a temporary position, but at least providing a bit of stability. Other than that, still living in my brother's unfinished basement next to the ferret cage. That's right, I'm a glamour girl.
I've been doing a lot, A LOT of thinking lately. Some of it even rational. I'm now past the three month mark back in Gringolandia. El Salvador recently elected my ex-imaginary-novio, Maricio Funes, as president. I commute an hour each way to work and have even been spotted at Starbucks. (gasp!) I listen to a LOT of NPR. I'm beginning to etch a groove here. The strange thing, is that my itching feet have been itching to bury themselves in the dirt. It may be the ferret-fumes talking, but the idea of settling seems more and more appealing. Is it time to let the world come to me for a while? Just need to find that balance...
Or maybe we all just want what we don't have.. how many times have I had someone express their envy of my adventure. Don't get me wrong, I love my life, but I know what must be sacrificed to live it and sometimes I look back and wonder why they don't sufficiently appreciate what they have.
A big comfy chair and....
Friday, March 20, 2009
Monday, March 2, 2009
Campo Colorado
I spent last weekend in Grand Junction, CO. For those of you not familiar with the area, GJ is the largest town on the Western side of Colorado, or the conservative side. I lived there most recently for a couple years before I went to Peace Corps and I got my second bachelor's degree in Sociology at Mesa State College. I worked at a juvenile detention center for a bit and at a residential treatment center for kids for most of my time there.
Grand Junction is and interesting place. I used to joke that the best thing about it is that you can be out of it in 20 minutes. It is surrounded by some of the best terrain for outdoor activities. You have the Monument (Colorado National Monument) which holds some great sandstone formations, the Mesa which is higher in elevation so it has evergreen forests and ski slopes, Mt. Garfield, a crazy hike with incredible views of the valley, and the rest was desert, unforgiving, spectacular desert. You could drive for a couple hours to the West and end up in Moab and Arches National Park for some really amazing rock formations.
I was pondering as I was driving over, how different, and also how similar campo (rural) Colorado is to campo Central America. In some ways, there is just no comparison. I think that the poorest, most isolated inhabitant of CO campo still has more resources than the 99% of CA campo residents. Yet, there are a lot of similarities. There absolutely exists in both societies a distinct social divide between the urban and rural communities. The urbanites look down on campo people as uneducated hicks and the campesinos disdain the urbanites for their fast lifestyles, crime-ridden societies and disconnect from life. There is a palpable difference when you drive to the Western Slope. Whereas in many of the mountain towns, tourism drives the economy and the inhabitants cater to big city tastes for quaint amenities, GJ's economy, especially recently, is supported by natural gas drilling and exploration. It's hard to believe that it is the same state as Fort Collins, or even the same planet as Boulder. It's literally the hybrid vs. diesel, tofu vs. beef, marijuana vs. tobacco. I couldn't help but chuckle at the incredible irony of the situation, on both sides. The liberals romanticize the rural poor in every country but our own, and the conservatives vilify them... and they are both too invested in their own version of the story to look at it from a different angle. Me, I am somewhere in between... I would drive a hybrid if I could afford it, and I think one of the best sounds in the world is a Ford diesel engine idling on a cold winter morning.
I met up with some girls that I used to work with and caught up. We went through the list of co-workers and residents and exchanged gossip. More than a few of "my boys" have been committed, some of them have slipped into the category of "no news is good news." There are even a few of them that have been proclaimed "functional" (hallelujah!). I was upset, though not surprised, to hear that one of my boys, Kody, one of my favorites, died about a year and half ago. He was really a great kid that got a lousy shake in life. (That statement could describe nearly every one of those kids.) In Kody's case, he was introduced to methamphetamine by his mom, had buried his kid sister a few months earlier, and, understandably, struggled with depression. I saw Kody through two programs, the detention center and the substance abuse center. When he entered the substance abuse center, he had just graduated from Outward Bound, where they take troubled kids and teach them to survive alone in the desert. He taught me to build a fire by making a bow out of a branch. I taught him to put out his arms and spin til he fell to the ground. He graduated the treatment center successfully, and I tried to tell him that he'd succeeded, even if he screwed up in the future, that he had proved he knew how to turn it around again.
I'm not sure how he died. I'm afraid it was in a dark place that won't let in the light no matter how bright it shines. When I found out, I toked in his honor, partly because it was completely inappropriate and because he would laugh his ass off, but mostly, cuz sometimes real life is unfair and fucked up and the respite of a cloudy haze, seems like the only sane response.
Grand Junction is and interesting place. I used to joke that the best thing about it is that you can be out of it in 20 minutes. It is surrounded by some of the best terrain for outdoor activities. You have the Monument (Colorado National Monument) which holds some great sandstone formations, the Mesa which is higher in elevation so it has evergreen forests and ski slopes, Mt. Garfield, a crazy hike with incredible views of the valley, and the rest was desert, unforgiving, spectacular desert. You could drive for a couple hours to the West and end up in Moab and Arches National Park for some really amazing rock formations.
I was pondering as I was driving over, how different, and also how similar campo (rural) Colorado is to campo Central America. In some ways, there is just no comparison. I think that the poorest, most isolated inhabitant of CO campo still has more resources than the 99% of CA campo residents. Yet, there are a lot of similarities. There absolutely exists in both societies a distinct social divide between the urban and rural communities. The urbanites look down on campo people as uneducated hicks and the campesinos disdain the urbanites for their fast lifestyles, crime-ridden societies and disconnect from life. There is a palpable difference when you drive to the Western Slope. Whereas in many of the mountain towns, tourism drives the economy and the inhabitants cater to big city tastes for quaint amenities, GJ's economy, especially recently, is supported by natural gas drilling and exploration. It's hard to believe that it is the same state as Fort Collins, or even the same planet as Boulder. It's literally the hybrid vs. diesel, tofu vs. beef, marijuana vs. tobacco. I couldn't help but chuckle at the incredible irony of the situation, on both sides. The liberals romanticize the rural poor in every country but our own, and the conservatives vilify them... and they are both too invested in their own version of the story to look at it from a different angle. Me, I am somewhere in between... I would drive a hybrid if I could afford it, and I think one of the best sounds in the world is a Ford diesel engine idling on a cold winter morning.
I met up with some girls that I used to work with and caught up. We went through the list of co-workers and residents and exchanged gossip. More than a few of "my boys" have been committed, some of them have slipped into the category of "no news is good news." There are even a few of them that have been proclaimed "functional" (hallelujah!). I was upset, though not surprised, to hear that one of my boys, Kody, one of my favorites, died about a year and half ago. He was really a great kid that got a lousy shake in life. (That statement could describe nearly every one of those kids.) In Kody's case, he was introduced to methamphetamine by his mom, had buried his kid sister a few months earlier, and, understandably, struggled with depression. I saw Kody through two programs, the detention center and the substance abuse center. When he entered the substance abuse center, he had just graduated from Outward Bound, where they take troubled kids and teach them to survive alone in the desert. He taught me to build a fire by making a bow out of a branch. I taught him to put out his arms and spin til he fell to the ground. He graduated the treatment center successfully, and I tried to tell him that he'd succeeded, even if he screwed up in the future, that he had proved he knew how to turn it around again.
I'm not sure how he died. I'm afraid it was in a dark place that won't let in the light no matter how bright it shines. When I found out, I toked in his honor, partly because it was completely inappropriate and because he would laugh his ass off, but mostly, cuz sometimes real life is unfair and fucked up and the respite of a cloudy haze, seems like the only sane response.
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