Heidi Ayarbe's Blog, page 4

Happy Birthday to me! 17 years in Colombia and still ... huh?

 
Well, it's been seventeen years since I first arrived to Colombia. I flew into the Pereira airport after a two-day travesty of missed flights, missed connections (winter winter winter weather) and a blubbering meltdown in the Miami airport because of said missed flights. Finally, after spending the night in a paid-for-by-sympathetic-airline hotel, I boarded a flight for Bogota where a nice flight attendant ushered me into a small waiting room. Then I boarded the flight to Pereira, experienced a very bumpy bumpy landing, and walked down the Avianca stairs onto the tarmac. There was a crowd of people at a fence waving at me, and I felt totally and completely ... terrified.

This is my home now.  I married a Colombian (love this guy!) and have two Colombo-American daughters. (More Colombian than American). Much to my dismay, they don't like peanut butter. I know. And Cheerios are marginally acceptable to them.  I know. I know. It's hard for me to wrap my brain around that one.

So, as I said, Colombia is home. But I've realized that I'll always be a foreigner here, and there are some things I just don't get. It's taken me a long time to come to terms with these, "Huh?" things. But I've accepted them and have learned to question less, shrug my shoulders, and instead of "huh?" I say, "Hmmm."  (Mostly to myself, though, because I can't deal with another explanation of the inexplicable!)
(And I'm WELL aware many Colombians look at me and the things I do and say "huh?" too!)

Weird product-combos:
The idea, I think, behind giving free products when someone purchases a product is to either introduce the customer to a new line of products similar to what the customer already is buying or give a bonus product that most customers combine with the purchased product. (Say that ten times fast.) I'm not in advertising or marketing, but it seems that that would make sense. 

dandruff shampoo with a free dulce de leche sample; milk with free pencils; razors with canned sardines ...

It's kind of like bacon gumballs. Just ...huh?
These are just the ones I remember. I'm not making this up. I'm simply not this creative.


Semantics, semantics, semantics:
Ahora (ahorita): 


Ahora literally means "now." Now, however, does not exist in Colombia. For instance, if you were to shout out, "Oh, look out! A bus is going to run you over ahora." The guy would be one smashed frogger. Just by using "ahora", you're suggesting he has oodles of time. So, if  nothing is now ... what is now? And if Colombians swear by living in the "now" but don't have "now" ...
"Huh?" I know! This, do not be fooled, is Colombian, not Spanish.

Me (while working in cafe in Spain): Would you like more coffee.
Spanish guy: Mas tarde (later)
Me: Okay. Ahora.
Spanish guy: No. mas tarde.
Me: I know. Ahorita.
Spanish guy (clearly irritated by the stupid American. They don't like us much over there, you know): I said mas tarde.
Me (muttering): Damn ahora 
 
The only time I've heard a Colombian use ahora meaning now was when I was in labor. 
Doctor: Oh. It looks like she's coming ahora.
Me (moving to get up): 
Doctor: Where are you going?
Me: To vaccuum. I have lots of time (major nesting happening here). Uff. What's that weird pressure?
Doctor: The baby. She's coming ahora.
Me: Ahora as in ahora or ahora as in ahora?

Trust me. While in labor, it's not the best time to get in a semantic discussion with your Ob/Gyn.
 
Mona:
In Colombia, they call blondes "mona." Colombians love nicknames. It's never meant in a derogatory way, and I think it's kind of nice. So, let's take the Colombian blonde test:
Which of these members of my family are mona(o)?


If you said, "all of the above," you are right!
Yeah. I don't get it, either.

Interpretive Traffic Signals:
Red is greenish, never really red. Green is always green, even if it's red. And yellow is more of a sign to rev your engines and hit the gas. Basically, if you're crossing the street, run like hell.





El sereno (serenar):
Here, people always talk about el sereno in whispers and almost always as if it were a menacing thing.  Of course I didn't speak Spanish when I arrived, so imagine when somebody told me that her uncle got pneumonia because of el sereno, I was freaked out thinking, "Oh shit. Do they have a vaccination for that stuff?"
Literally, serenar means to go out in the evening.
Yep. That's it.
And people here are terrified of the deathly effects of "el sereno". Most people here have never lived in snow. So when we're in the tropics, and temperatures drop to the low sixties, panic sets in if somebody has a sniffle.
"Don't you serenar or you could kick it."
"What happened to Phil?" "Bronchitis?" "Did he serenar?" "Yeah. Silly, silly Phil."

Living with parents:

I get that a lot of the time people live with family members because of economics. I'm talking about the Latin cultural aspect of it here. It's very much the same in Spain, France, Italy ... and Colombia. People live with their parents long after high school, college, getting a steady job, becoming economically independent.
I just don't get it. (Just as they don't get why we don't, I suppose.)  



 Maybe if I stick around another 17 years, I'll be able to resolve (in my very core) one of these things. Plus, I might have daughters who never, ahem, leave the nest. Who knows what will be?
Until then, I'm grateful that I have a beautiful home surrounded by beautiful people who tend to be terrified of evenings.

Happy Birthday to me! I love you, Colombia.

AHHH ... The ever-dreaded New Year's Post ...

Alas, it's the last day of 2013 and the web will be flooded with insight and past-sight and future-sight. People will make thoughtful resolutions ... ATTAINABLE ones. (That's the key word, huh?) Others will write about the past year with wit and charm, bringing out the ten most ... most ten ... quirky countdowns and lists that will wow us and make us feel both inspired and uncomfortable at the same time. It'll be like TED TALKS ON SPEED TIMES A MILLION ...
Some posts will go viral, and we'll all click when we read this new catch phrase: NOTHING COULD'VE PREPARED ME FOR ________  (the last picture, the last twenty seconds, her reaction). I have, in fact, stopped clicking on those "nothing could've prepared me for" because  I HATE that stupid phrase now. I, personally, LIKE to be surprised by things. It's not always possible, but the fact that somebody is saying NOTHING COULD'VE PREPARED ME FOR ... means you're prepared for ....  and have already gotten out the tissues, so, in fact, I am prepared and, oftentimes, not that excited about it.
blah

So here I am. December 31, 2013.
And I've got ... nothing ... except this.

I wish you well.
I wish you happiness and laughter and health and peace and love and gratitude.
I wish you perspective.(When life does a flip flop, stand on your head!)




I wish you great stories -- ones you live, ones you read, ones you listen to, ones you create. We are ALL story tellers. Don't forget the magic you can find in books and songs, in poetry and our every day lives. We paint the world with our stories. We infuse the love of stories in our children. We have the power of stories every day.  Tell the story you want to tell with your life. Every single day. Your story is unique and wonderful because you are..
I hope you know that you matter. Your smile makes someone's day. You make a difference because you ARE.
You, as you are, are phenomenal, perfectly flawed, just like the rest of the world out there.


So, whether you're a New Year's grinch or are ready to dazzle tonight, Happy New Year!

A Book a day ... Knock Knock by Daniel Beaty, illus. by Bryan Collier

And I haven't even read this one yet.
But based on THIS ...




and THIS School LIbrary Journal Review of Knock Knock by Daniel Beaty, illustrated by Bryan Collier ...


http://blogs.slj.com/afuse8production...


I NEED THIS BOOK!
It was out December 17th and looks like a treasure!! BUY THIS BOOK! I know I am. I can't wait wait wait to get my hands on a copy of it!!

DECEMBER 18TH?? A book a, ahem, week?

Okay.
I admit it. December sucked me up in its vortex of madness. Alumbradas, novenas, natilla, bunuelos ... Christmastime in Colombia is more than busy. IT'S MADNESS. Every night (every single night) there's an event. My girls have been on the Colombia Christmas buzz for a couple of weeks now meaning they're overstimulated, overtired, sensitive, crabby, and balls of excitement all at the same time. We go from tears to laughter in millimoments ... and that's just me.
This. IS. EXHAUSTING.
That said, I have SIX BOOKS to make up for my utter lack of dedication to the task. You still have SHOPPING DAYS LEFT! So my list includes everything from funeral singers to satire to art to non fiction ... compelling reads for everyone.

Please, somebody, TAKE ME AWAY! (That was my wee little cry for help in the turmoil here).

 I keep thinking, "I wish my Dad could've read this book." It's devastating, compelling, stressful ... I just kept wanting to scream, "STOP PLOWING THE DAMNED EARTH!" Every page terrifying, like watching a death march. For example, in April, one dust storm one afternoon moved TWICE THE AMOUNT OF EARTH that was extracted from the Panama Canal. (Which took seven years to build).
Simply phenomenal. (Adult -- mature content and a hefty read.)

Here's the blurb:

The dust storms that terrorized the High Plains in the darkest years of the Depression were like nothing ever seen before or since.
Timothy Egan’s critically acclaimed account rescues this iconic chapter of American history from the shadows in a tour de force of historical reportage. Following a dozen families and their communities through the rise and fall of the region, Egan tells of their desperate attempts to carry on through blinding black dust blizzards, crop failure, and the death of loved ones. Brilliantly capturing the terrifying drama of catastrophe, Egan does equal justice to the human characters who become his heroes, “the stoic, long-suffering men and women whose lives he opens up with urgency and respect” (New York Times).

In an era that promises ever-greater natural disasters, The Worst Hard Time is “arguably the best nonfiction book yet” (Austin Statesman Journal) on the greatest environmental disaster ever to be visited upon our land and a powerful cautionary tale about the dangers of trifling with nature.

 Melanie is snarky, talented, and has a wry sense of humor. Plus, it's completely unexpected! This is a great book for music lovers, romance lovers, and readers who want to escape an afternoon.
Definitely a great gift for later high school+

Blurb:
Being a funeral singer was a dead-end job until it led her to him ...

Seventeen-year-old Melanie Martin has witnessed her share of lame eulogies and uninspired epitaphs while singing part-time at her dad's funeral home. She's determined to be more than a funeral singer, more than just someone's "beloved wife" or "loving mother."

When Mel's impromptu rendition of "Amazing Grace" at a local rock star's graveside service goes viral on YouTube, she becomes an Internet sensation, gains thousands of fans and followers, and snags a hot rock star boyfriend--Zed Logan, bass player for The Grime.

But instant fame isn’t easy—and neither is love. Especially when Mel realizes she’s falling for another guy—one who may just want her heart more than her voice.   Last year, my mom gave this to me. I've always been a die-hard Calvin & Hobbes fan. And here, I GOT THEM ALL! What I really loved was the forward by Bill Watterson -- the inside story behind the comic strip, how it developed, and how he fought to not make it into trinket/commercial-ville.
Simply astounding. Every single page brings me to tears!






Vernon God Little, written by DBC Pierre, is, hands down, one of the best novels I’ve read in the past ten years. Winer of the 2003 Man Booker  Prize, Vernon God Little is as surprising as it is unsettling. Set in small town, trailer-park central, Texas, USA, this is a story about how Vernon Gregory Little's life has been turned upside-down after his friend, Jesus Navarro, commits a Columbine-style massacre at his school.
This no-name town becomes the center of a media frenzy as a hungry-for-fame hack reporter, Eulalio Ledesma (yes, they all have weird names in the book!), manipulates events to look like Vernon was the perpetrator of the school killing.
Vernon heads to Mexico, Against All Odds-style to escape trial and possible death row with Taylor Figueros. As you can imagine, he doesn't escape and at his trial is represented by a Johnny Cochran-style big-shot lawyer
This is a slicing satire about American media, reality TV, fifteen-minute-famers, death row, and tragedy becoming a media orgy. And it's one of the funniest novels I've ever read in the midst of it all. I laughed out loud from beginning to end, and I sure wish this would be required reading when it comes to media ethics.
Writing a novel is hard work.
Writing comedy, real comedy, is an art.
Plus, Vernon is the best anti-hero I've ever read. And he's always nice to his mom (who's worth about as much as her latest home perm).(mature high schoolers + )



It was like he had taken a wrecking ball/and SMASHED IN/The House of Jazz,/till the walls came tumbling down….
Dizzy, written by Jonah Winters and illustrated by Sean Qualls, is a picture book about the life of legendary jazz trumpet player John Burks “Dizzy” Gillespie. This visually phenomenal, breathtakingly rhythmic journey into the turbulent life of this trumpet musician takes no short cuts and doesn’t gloss over the incredibly difficult life of Gillespie growing up in poverty in an abusive home. Gillespie’s life changed the day a teacher gave him a trumpet and Gillespie’s red-anger splashes over the pages as he plays into the trumpet with a blare. Follow the rhythm of the music, the colors that accompany Gillespie’s journey through childhood sadness to the vibrant city life in New York. A starred Booklist review says “Qualls is able to translate the story (and the music) into shapes and colors that undulate and stream across the pages with a beat and bounce of their own.”If you or your children don’t know much about jazz, check out Dizzy  and get lost in a palette of colors and rhythms. Then sit back and listen to Dizzy’s version of The Way You Look Tonight and literally be blown away.
Just as with Shaun Tan, Oliver Jeffers is another PHENOMENAL ARTIST who illustrates picture books. His work is simply gorgeous. (I kinda wish I had all of his books, signed ... but anyway). My favorites, though, end this post with TWO great great picture books. (I sometimes think I'm giving my girls books I want just because I want them. But that's okay. That's why books are books -- to share!) I think the key to remember is this we don't read TO our kids, we read WITH them ... :-)
 

A Book a Day ... December 12th and Firstbook.org

When our society is better, our lives are better. That's a fact. With a higher level of education, crime rates, teenage pregnancies, domestic violence, poverty etcetera, etcetera, etcetera ... lower. That's a fact. And, I'm so so fortunate that I have a home; we have food in our fridge; I have clothes, good doctors, and access to great schools. My girls live a life of privilege.
I believe some of the best gifts we can give our children are compassion, empathy and gratitude. So today, I'm shouting out for firstbook.org and their goal of bringing literature and reading to every child's home.  You can make a donation in anyone's name, and Firstbook will send that person a card. What a beautiful gift!  (AND ... today, your gift will triple.)



(Literacy facts taken from dosomething.org )

Two-thirds of students who cannot read proficiently by the end of 4th grade will end up in jail or on welfare. Over 70 percent of America’s inmates cannot read above a 4th grade level.
*In fact, the state of Arizona takes the results from the literacy exam in 4th grade to determine how much space the prison system will need in the next seven years.
 1 in 4 children in America grow up without learning how to read.
 As of 2011, America was the only free-market OECD (Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development) country where the current generation was less well educated than the previous.
 Literacy is a learned skill. Illiteracy is passed down from parents who can neither read nor write.
 Nearly 85 percent of the juveniles who face trial in the juvenile court system are functionally illiterate, proving that there is a close relationship between illiteracy and crime. More than 60 percent of all inmates are functionally illiterate.
 53 percent of 4th graders admitted to reading recreationally “almost every day,” while only 20 percent of 8th graders could say the same. (2009 study)
 75 percent of Americans who receive food stamps perform at the lowest 2 levels of literacy, and 90 percent of high school dropouts are on welfare.
 Teenage girls ages 16 to 19 who live at or below the poverty level and have below average literacy skills are 6 times more likely to have children out of wedlock than the girls their age who can read proficiently.
 Reports show that low literacy directly costs the healthcare industry over $70 million every year.
 In 2013, Washington, D.C. was ranked the most literate American city for the third year in a row, with Seattle and Minneapolis close behind.
 Long Beach, CA was ranked the country’s most illiterate city, followed by Mesa, AZ, and Aurora, CO.

A Book A Day ... A Summer of Sundays by Lindsay Eland

We all have a little Sunday in us. We want to be noticed, to be praised, to stand out. WE WANT OUR FIFTEEN MINUTES! Right? Isn't that what we all deserve? A life with headlines and TV interviews?
Sunday is a funny child, stuck in the middle (literally), of six siblings. And she just wants to shine. But at what price?
Lindsay Eland has created a quirky, fun, and all-too-relateable cast of characters in her second middle grade novel. It has great pacing, humor, and just the right touch of mystery.

Blurb:
When you're the third of six kids, it's easy to get lost in the shuffle, but Sunday Fowler is determined that this summer she'll find the one thing that makes her stand out from her siblings.

And when she discovers a silver box in the basement of the library her parents are renovating, she might just have found something to gain her the attention she so craves. Inside is a series of letters addressed to "The Librarian" and a manuscript. But who wrote them? With the help of annoying neighbor-turned-new-friend Jude, Sunday is determined to track down the author. And when she unveils this novel to the world, she'll be famous!

But uncovering this manuscript means stirring up secrets that some people in the town hoped to keep buried. And Sunday must decide if some things -- loyalty, trust, friendship -- are worth more than her name in the headlines. 





Age: 9+

A Book A Day ... SHAUN TAN!! Give art!

Okay, most of us can't afford to go to a gallery and splurge on a painting that could cost thousands to tens of thousands of dollars.
Great, accessible art, though, is just a picture book away. Some of today's greatest artists are in your favorite bookstores and libraries. And the art of Shaun Tan is incomparable. A short animated film Oscar award winner -- for an adaptation of his picture book The Lost Thing -- Shaun Tan is one of my favorite illustrators, story tellers ... artists. If my family let me, I might consider wall papering my home with all the pages of his books. (I so SO love The Red Tree)

Give art! Surprise someone with not just one painting but a book of them!

A Book A Day ... The Night Before the Night Before Christmas by Natasha Wing

Okay. Do you get a little tired of how the holiday books paint the season with tinsel and joy and perfectly decorated sugar cookies? With fresh-faced parents and glossy wrapping paper coming off the plane with perfectly tied bows? Like, for real? Pass the egg nog, buddy, because I want what you're drinking. You haven't spent a Christmas traveling.
Last Christmas was tough. For the first time in ten years, I traveled home for Christmas, and we were with our daughters -- 10 months and 4 years old. I think it'll take another twenty to muster the courage to try it again!
Flights were cancelled, delayed. We were sent home from the airport at 4:00 in the morning to return at 3:00 in the afternoon ... and that snowballed, literally into a 36 hour ordeal.
As soon as we got home (to Grandma's), had baths, and set up camp, our baby got sick. BIG TIME. And we all fell like dominoes. We all got the famous Nora Virus.
NOT PLEASANT.
Ensued Urgent Care visits, prescription meds (and determining how to spread out the bazillion dollar anti-nausea meds among us), more Pedialyte than you can fathom, not to mention an on-going washing of sheets, towels -- about four loads a day for a week. (The splatter radius of these kids is astounding.) Add the non-stop feed of Hallmark Christmas movies (that all involve incredulous people who turn out to love the real Santa who's the local lumberjack just sussing out the area to give away red high heels), and I was going BANANAS.


So ... Santa, that wise old dude, brought us this book that begins:

'Twas the night before the night before Christmas,
with too much to do.
Our tree wasn't up yet,
and Mom had the flu ...


Blurb:
It's December 23, and Christmas is just around the corner. But one family is having trouble getting its act together. Once again, Natasha Wing follows the rhythms and meter of Clement Moore's classic Christmas poem, yet gives it her own entirely original twist.

A Book A Day ... (On the) Jellicoe Road by Melina Marchetta

Okay.

Just ... bloody hell (my "hats off" to the Australian author). I had to read this twice because the story woven in the story is so exquisite I had to step back and take those pieces apart and reread them.

Blurb (Australian, because I liked it better than the American blurb):
"I'm dreaming of the boy in the tree. I tell him stories. About the Jellicoe School and the Townies and the Cadets from a school in Sydney. I tell him about the war between us for territory. And I tell him about Hannah, who lives in the unfinished house by the river. Hannah, who is too young to be hiding away from the world. Hannah, who found me on the Jellicoe Road six years ago."
Taylor is the leader of the boarders at the Jellicoe School. She has to keep the upper hand in territory wars and deal with Jonah Griggs- the enigmatic leader of the cadets, and someone who she thought she would never see again.
And now Hannah, the person Taylor had come to rely on, has disappeared. Taylor's only clue is a manuscript about five kids who lived in Jellicoe eighteen years ago. She needs to find out more, but this means confronting her own story, making sense of her strange, recurring dream, and finding her mother- who abandoned her on the Jellicoe Road.


It has flawed characters, a bumbling, believable romance. It has mystery and prayer trees, territory wars and friendship, regrets and penance. It has heartbreaking stories of strength and tragedy. And all the while, it keeps the reader laughing and rooted in the world of Taylor who is working hard to understand where she's come from and where she wants to go.
What's NOT TO LOVE? Honestly, I read this and I think my heart skipped some beats. (Maybe I can sue Ms. Marchetta for causing arrhythmia? Nah. I just need to read more of her books!) The skill of Marchetta as a storyteller is about as good as it gets. The best of the best, I believe. And even better than that.

A Book A Day ... Breaking Glass by Lisa Amowitz

Haunting, freaky (don't read this at night), and something that could only be written by someone with such acute visual gifts as the artist, Lisa Amowitz, Breaking Glass is a phenomenal debut novel that takes the reader on a dark journey.

Blurb:
On the night seventeen-year-old Jeremy Glass winds up in the hospital with a broken leg and a blood alcohol level well above the legal limit, his secret crush, Susannah, disappears. When he begins receiving messages from her from beyond the grave, he's not sure whether they're real or if he's losing his grip on reality. Clue by clue, he gets closer to unraveling the mystery, and soon realizes he must discover the truth or become the next victim himself.


 
 It has an incredibly cinematographic feel ... you know that eerie, always on the edge kind of stuff from the movies. Amowitz makes it feel like we're searching for Susannah and living Jeremy's world of loss, pain, and what ifs ... And I also love how it doesn't rely on the "old tricks" to get our blood pumping. Just the ping of Jeremy's e-mail is freakish. 
Age: 14+