Macaco: "Tengo" con letra en dos idiomas

Tengo.. y lo que tengo lo mantengo a base de amor y fe.

I have—and what I have I keep based on love and faith

Siento--que si no estás no corre el viento-- quizás afuera si pero no dentro de mi..

I feel—that if you’re not here, the wind does not blow—perhaps outside, but not within me. 

Vengo sin maletas-- con lo puesto y esta canción-- mi remedio vitamina pal´vivir.

I come without suitcases—with just what I’m wearing, and this song—my cure, the vitamin that gives me strength to live

Vuelvo y a teneros si estás lejos como el trueno cuando pasas junto a mi.

I come—and having you—if you are far away--like thunder when you pass close to me

La melodía de una rumba me dijo,  "el secreto no está en la tumba sino en el vivir"

The melody of a rumba told me, "the secret is not in the tomb but rather in living"

y viviendo a todo trapo olvidé caminar despacio y las heridas de mis pies en ti.

And living at top speed I forgot to walk slowly, and (I saw) the injuries in my feet on you

No cantaré a lo que desconozco solo a lo que entro en el fondo como el pozo del vino que bebí

I will not sing about what I don’t understand, but only that of which I enter to the depths like the well of wine that I have consumed

y antes de emborracharme brindaré, mirando a tus ojos; y gritaré, "el secreto es el amor

que siento por ti."

And before drinking I will make a toast, looking you in the eyes; and I will cry out, "the secret is the love that I feel for you"

Tengo.. y lo que tengo lo mantengo a base de amor y fe.

I have—and what I have I keep based on love and faith

Siento--que si no estás no corre el viento-- quizás afuera si pero no dentro de mi..

I feel—that if you’re not here, the wind does not blow—perhaps outside, but not within me. 

Vengo… sin maletas-- con lo puesto y esta canción-- mi remedio vitamina pal´vivir.

I come without suitcases—with just what I’m wearing and this song—my cure, the vitamin that gives me the strength to live

Vuelvo.. y a teneros si estás lejos como el trueno cuando pasas junto a mi.

I come—and having you—if you are far away like thunder when you pass close to me

La primera lección aprendí pero olvidé el cuaderno al salir

I learned the first lesson, but I forgot my notebook upon leaving

en la escuela de la vida no se puede repetir

In the school of life, there's no repeating

así que voy lápiz en mano tomando notas y callando-- a veces es mejor no decir

That’s why I go along, pencil in hand, taking notes and keeping quiet—sometimes it’s better not to talk.

aprendí a alzar las velas aguantarle a la marea y a romper las olas del mal vivir

I learned to hoist the sails, withstand the seasickness, and break the waves of a hard life

y es que el vaso medio lleno medio vacío mi niña solo depende de ti y de mi.

And that whether the glass is half full or half empty all depends on you and me, my girl.

y no sé es mas rico el que mas lleva sino el que algo tiene y lo conserva

And I don’t know if it's the rich one who has the most, or the one who is able to keep the little that he has.

sin enfriarlo, sin olvidarlo en un cajón

Withhout letting it become cold, without stashing it away in a drawer

y no hay mayor tesoro que el que guardas en tu corazón

And there is no greater treasure than that which you hold in your heart

no en el bolsillo triste de un pantalón.

Not what's in the sad pocket of a pair of pants. 

What are you waiting for?

The streets are clogged with traffic. Your eyes slide nervously over the magazine rack as you wait your turn at the grocery store. The doctor is behind schedule…Too much waiting! 

But…I guess we don’t have to hunt and gather for our food, which took up a good portion of our ancestors’ time for millennia. Thanks to modern transportation and refrigeration, our kitchens are stocked with edible delights from thousands of miles away, every minute of the day, all year long.  So we’ve picked up some time there.  

Also, we don’t have to wait for the traveling minstrel or the pony express to get our news; it’s ticking down the screen. No more waiting there. And no more waiting anxiously by the mailbox for news from friends and family either.  The social networks on our mobile devices keep us in constant contact. More time saved. Parents outdo themselves and each other to fulfill and even anticipate their child’s every need before the kid even knows he’s hungry, or tired, or needs to be changed. No more time wasted with all that crying.

Yet, we are seeing today unprecedented numbers of children being diagnosed with attention deficit disorders, impulse control disorders and eating disorders. Many people today, across the spectrum of age and class and gender, struggle to focus their attention on long term goals.

Recently, I watched Joachim de Posada's fascinating TED talk on the marshmallow experiment, and I began to think about this concept: Joachim de Posada says "Don't eat the marshmallow!"

De Posada's study actually had its roots in an earlier experiment. In 1972, Walter Mischel, a Psychologist at Stanford University, performed the following experiment:  He sat a four year old child in a room and made the following offer:  “Here’s a marshmallow.  I have another one right here.  If you can sit in the room for fifteen minutes without eating the first one, you will get the second.”  About two thirds of the children ate the first marshmallow.  The other third did not.  

Fourteen years later, Mischel’s team revisited these children. Those four-year-olds who ate the first marshmallow- the grabbers- tended to be young adults who were seen by others to be jealous and stubborn, prone to anger, and easily frustrated. In many cases they were poor students. Those who waited for the second marshmallow turned out to be more competent in several important areas. For the most part, they were socially well-adjusted, trustworthy, and emotionally buoyant. These young adults did well in school, and were effective learners who scored an average of 210 points higher on the SAT than their single-marshmallow eating counterparts.

 So the gambit is this:  if you wait, you get a greater reward. Or, you can take a short term gain at the expense of a long-term loss.  In Confucian philosophy, Junzi (君子), the “exemplary person” was distinguished by this very ability to put off the small gains to enjoy the greater rewards later. The concept of Xiaoren (小人), or small person, was distinguished by his inability to do the same.

Many developmental psychologists define maturity as the ability to move from the immature infant who is only able to see his or her immediate needs, to the mature adult who is able to delay gratification in favor of future rewards. Children, in a very real way, are not able to conceptualize time as adults do. Some people, however, exhibit the ability to delay gratification at the age of four, while others struggle to develop this skill throughout their lives.

Those who follow the “grabber” group, what Confucius called Xiaoren (小人), often struggle with various behavioral addictions as they age (nail-biting, skin-picking, gambling, drugs, compulsive shopping, eating disorders or alcoholism). These people fail to see the way that their actions play into the overall scheme of things.  When surrounded by others who are highly critical and judgmental, they may become depressed, and these tendencies are further exaggerated.

Conversely, those people who can exercise self-control, what Confucius called Junzi (君子), are often able to reap the rewards of their patience later, which leads to further successes.

So how can we develop these positive habits?

1-      Spend time with good friends. Seek out competitive yet non-judgmental environments and surround yourself with others who already have these skills in self-mastery. You should be challenged to become your best self through the positive example set by your peers. Change your scenery. Have fun.

2-      Distract yourself.  In Mischel’s study, the children who were most successful in this experiment were often able to distract themselves by singing songs, moving around the room, or looking away from the marshmallow.  Adults can do the same.  When you are temped to eat the marshmallow, engage your mind and body in something else that will bring you positive results: a game, a puzzle, a sport, or a club. B.F. Skinner called this “Changing the stimulus.” Hide the Marshmallow under the table where you can’t see it, and replace it with something else that’s interesting.

3-      Learn to wait.  Patience, like any skill or muscle, develops through repeated use. The more you practice patience, the more patient you will become. Though clearly this ability is heritable, it is also trainable. In recent years, the psychologist Roy F. Baumeister found that groups of people who lived in a disciplined way, engaging in activities such as monitoring their diet, exercising regularly, speaking in complete sentences, and avoiding profanity actually increased their ability to exercise greater control both in the lab and out. Keeping your bed made and standing up straight, as a habit, may actually help people to gain control over significant areas of their lives.

Good things come to those who wait, and tea makes the waiting nicer. Cheers!

 

Reflexiones sobre Journeys: An Artistic Exploration of the art of María Magdalena Campos-Pons

On Thursday, October 13, 2011, I had the opportunity to travel to Nashville to participate in an Educator Workshop presented through the auspices of the Vanderbilt University Center for Latin American Studies and the Frist Center for the Visual Arts. The guest for this Workshop was Boston based María Magdalena Campos-Pons, a multidimensional artist who uses sculpture, video, drawing, and photography to communicate complex ideas in simultaneously very personal and recognizably universal ways.

El Jueves, 13 de Octubre, 2011, tuve la oportunidad de viajar a Nashville para participar en un taller educador presentado a través del Centro de Estudios Latinoamericanos de la Universidad de Vanderbilt de y el Centro Frist de Artes Visuales. La invitada de este taller María Magdalena Campos-Pons. Cubana trasladada a Boston, ella es una artista multidimensional que utiliza la escultura, video, dibujo y fotografía para comunicar temas a la vez muy personales y universales.

Upon arriving, I found colleagues from various disciplines seating themselves around the large conference room representing both Art and Language teachers from schools in the area elementary and secondary, public and private. Soon after a brief introduction from Andrea Steele, Educator for the Frist center, and Claire Gonzalez, coordinator of outreach programs for Vanderbilt’s Center for Latin American Studies, María Magdalena Campos-Pons, or Magda, joined the meeting.

Al llegar, me encontré con colegas de diversas disciplinas sentándose alrededor de la gran sala de conferencias. Esos profesores representaron el arte y tambien idiomas de escuelas en el área primarias y secundarias, públicos y privados. Poco después de una breve introducción de Andrea Steele, educadora para el centro Frist, y Claire González, coordinadora de programas para el Centro Vanderbilt para Centro de Estudios Latinoamericanos, María Magdalena Campos-Pons, o Magda, se unió a la reunión.

With a unique passion and delight for sharing ideas, Magda engaged the group right away in a discussion of some of the issues most pertinent to teachers in their struggle to bring art and culture into the modern classroom in the United States. She reflected upon her own experience as a student growing up in Cuba and the tremendous impact that one particular teacher had on her as a young girl. This teacher lighted a flame in her that burns still by integrating masterworks of art and literature into the curriculum and caring for each student as an individual. For many, this struck a chord as the kind of impact every teacher hopes to make on the life of a student.

Con obvia pasión y encanto para el intercambio de ideas, Magda se puso a interactuar con el grupo de inmediato en una discusión de algunos de los temas más pertinentes a los maestros en su lucha por llevar el arte y la cultura al aula moderna en los Estados Unidos. Mientras hablamos, ella reflexionó sobre su propia experiencia como estudiante en Cuba y el tremendo impacto que una maestra en particular había hecho en su vida como niña. Esta maestra encendió una llama que arde aún con la mezcla de obras maestras de la literatura con el arte en el currículo y el tratamiento de cada estudiante como un individuo. Para muchos, este nos soñó con la verdad que ese impacto es lo que cada maestro espera hacer en la vida de un estudiante.

Next, we descended to the museum itself for a Gallery Talk in which Magda presented and discussed three installations that were currently on display in the museum.

The first installation that we had an opportunity to see was a very large collection of photographs called “De las Dos aguas”

luego, descendimos al propio museo para una charla en la que Magda presentó y discutió tres instalaciones que se encuentran actualmente en exhibición en el museo.
La primera instalación que tuvimos la oportunidad de ver fue una instalacion de fotografías  "De las Dos Aguas"




Though Magda was careful to remind us that each viewer understands the image in their own way, and the images that she creates are open to interpretation, it was wonderful to have an opportunity to understand the personal and historical antecedents that informed her development of the pieces.

Aunque Magda nos hizo recordar que cada espectador concibe la imagen a su manera, y las instalaciones que crea son abiertas a la interpretación, era maravilloso tener la oportunidad de comprender los antecedentes personales e históricas que le informó en el desarrollo de las piezas .

In the image “De Las Dos Aguas” we find two figures, captured in oversized polaroids of the artist herself. The faces of the figures are obscured so that, as Magda explained, the viewer may “fully construct the story.” The covered eyes also allow each figure to lose itself in introspection; centered within themselves as they close out all distractions.

En la fotografía de "De Las Dos Aguas" nos encontramos con dos figuras, capturado en polaroids gigantescas que son retratos de la propia artista. Las caras de las figuras están ocultas de manera que, como explicó Magda, el espectador puede "completar la construcción de la historia." Los ojos cubiertos también permiten que cada figura se pierda en la introspección, centradas en sí mismos, sin distracciones.

The two are connected by strings of hair which drip and flow like water itself (as the title of the work imples). This flowing hair is the same water that connects the continents of Africa and the Americas, a line which links the two aspects of the self in a state of simultaneous exile and rediscovery, in a state of constant ebb and flow, as with water itself.

Las dos mujeres están conectadas por hilos de cabello que gotean y fluyen como el agua (como el título de la obra implica). Este pelo que fluye es la misma agua que conecta los continentes de África y las Américas--una línea que une los dos aspectos del ser en un estado de exilio y redescubrimiento simultáneo, en un estado de constante flujo y reflujo, como ocurre con el agua.

These figures, in fact, recall the Afro-Cuban and Yoruba goddesses Oshun and Yemayá, two sisters who are in constant communication with one another. These two figures also represent anchors, a connection to earth, to groundedness. This grounding is both physical, in the case of the continents, as well as spiritual and historical, anchoring one another to the tradition of the ancestors which came before, even though their feet are lost in the blue space at the bottom of the image, as if the figures are themselves surrounded by water.

Estas figuras, de hecho, recuerdan las diosas Afro-Cubanas y Yorubas Oshún y Yemayá, dos hermanas que están en constante comunicación entre si. Estas dos figuras también representan anclas, en una conexión a la tierra firme, que se enraízan. Esta tierra es a la vez físico, en el caso de los continentes, y también es espiritual e histórico. Vemos aqui el anclaje a la tradición de los antepasados que vinieron antes. Sin embargo, sus pies se pierden en el espacio azul en la parte inferior de la imagen, como si las figuras estuvieran rodeadas por agua.

Magda reiterated the importance of the audience’s participation in the construction of the story itself: where are the men in the boat going? What is in the bags? These questions have as many answers as it has viewers. The viewer must decide for him or herself what the story might be.

Magda insistió la importancia de la participación del público en la construcción de la historia de sus obras: ¿Adónde van los hombres en el barco? ¿Qué hay en las bolsas? Estas preguntas tienen tantas respuestas como tiene espectadores. El espectador decide por sí mismo como termina la historia.

Next we had an opportunity to view “Sugar/Bittersweet”

La siguiente obra que vimos fue “Sugar/Bittersweet”:

This installation takes the concept of Sugar as bittersweet. Though the taste of the sugar is sweet, it becomes embittered by the history of tremendous suffering that it has produced on the island of Cuba over the course of its history.

Esta instalación desarrolla el concepto de Azúcar como un elemento en la cultura Cubana agridulce. Aunque el sabor del azúcar es dulce, se vuelve amargado por la historia del sufrimiento profundo que se ha producido en la isla de Cuba a lo largo de su historia.

The installation itself is a series of spears piercing orbs of sugar in various colors and manifestations. Providing a base for these are stools from both Africa and China, the places of origin of the ancestors of the artist herself. Here we see rising out of the “base” of history, the sharp “spear” of the sugar cane as it pierces the multicolored cakes of sugar. The stools act as bases for the pillars made of the cultural heritage of the immigrants upon which the empire of sugar was built, while the crystalized sugar represents the unique racial mixture that is the Cuban people today. The translucency of the glasslike sugar itself reminds us of the fragility of the material of memory.

La instalación presenta una serie de lanzas penetrando medallas de azúcar en varios colores y manifestaciones. Las lanzas se fundan en taburetes son de África y China, los lugares de origen de los antepasados de la artista. Aquí vemos surgiendo de la "base" de la historia, la "lanza" fuerte de la caña de azúcar que penetra las medallas de azúcar multicolores. Las taburetes funcionan como bases de los pilares hechos de la herencia cultural de los inmigrantes sobre los que se construyó el imperio de azúcar, mientras que el azúcar cristalizado representa la mezcla única de razas que es el pueblo cubano hoy. La translucidez del azúcar parece y a veces es mezclado con vidrio. Eso nos recuerda la fragilidad de la memoria.

This installation as a totality recalls a grove of sugar cane. As Magda reminded us, the experience of walking through a plantation of sugarcane flowing in the wind is a universal Cuban experience. Each Spear/Blade is different, even as each blade of sugarcane or each individual human being in this world is different, and each spear and stool were, before Magda, formed by the hands of an anonymous artist. Magda explained that the installation itself was originally conceived so that the viewer may walk among the blades so that she might best see the details and individuality of each one.

Esta instalación en su totalidad recuerda un campo lleno con caña de azúcar. Como nos recuerda Magda, la experiencia de caminar por la caña mientras flota con el viento es una experiencia cubana universal. Cada lanza/ hoja es diferente, como cada hoja de la caña de azúcar o de cada ser humano individual en este mundo es diferente, Cada uno de las lanzas y las taburetes eran, antes de la obra de Campos-Pons, formados por las manos de artistas anónimos. Magda explica que la instalación fue originalmente concebido para que el espectador puede caminar entre las hojas para que pudiera ver los detalles y la individualidad de cada pieza.

Next, we visited the installation “Spoken Softly with Mamá”

Perhaps the most personal of the three installations we saw at the Frist Center, “Spoken Softly with Mamá” is a series of sculptures mixed with textiles and videography. Across the back of the room are ranged seven structures in the shape and texture of ironing boards, while on the floor are various irons shaped out of what appears to be glass. On each of the ironing boards a separate story is taking place, of women in the familly of the artist who had an important impact on her life.

In the background a popular Cuban lullaby plays:

Arroz con leche,


se quiere casar


con una viudita de la capital;


que sepa coser,


que sepa bordar,


que ponga la aguija en su campanal . . . .

This children’s lullaby’s lyrics are important as well, reflecting the importance of marriage as a union which functions to strengthen and maintain a family in Cuban society. These functions are specifically material and practical “que sepa coser/que sepa bordar”: the woman to marry must know how to sew and embroider to be considered marriageable.

The image of the woman portraying the artist’s mother certainly met this standard. The ironing boards represent the importance of the work that she performed; washing and ironing clothes both for her family as well as for others. The artist recalled that her mother’s hands were calloused from the work that she did washing and neatly folding clothes each day, while she maintained a careful pride in her own personal presentation, always in a pristine white dress.

Other women in the installation defined themselves in other ways. One relative, Faustina, is portrayed as a traveller. She has the courage to leave her comfort zone in search of new experiences, perhaps returning to the family stories of adventure from beyond the world familiar to the others.

On the floor are arranged a starburst of glass irons. The act of putting these on the floor highlights that these objects have the same value as the objects on the walls, just as labor of differing social classes should be seen to have equal value. These irons being made of glass is no accident, as this glass, as with the sugar from “Sugar/Bittersweet”, is translucent and fragile. The artist further notes that this class can fall and break and be reassembled, just as our memory can be reassembled from its own fragments.

The videos portray a woman carefully folding sheets These sheets are embroidered with silk and organdy in an homage to the extreme value of the work that these women performed in what Magda called “a moment of celebration.” Embroidered on the edge of each is the name of its recipient, whether it be within or outside of the family: “para papá” or “para el alcalde.” The very last pile of folded sheets are embroidered with the words “Para que su hija alcanzara a lo que ella solo soñar” (So that her daughter may reach her very own dreams).

Clearly María Magdalena Campos-Pons has found a voice which can speak in a constant “Flow” with her ancestors. These themes pervade the three works in this fascinating workshop, as they inform the very fabric of each of our own lives. Though her work is intensely personal, María Magdalena Campos-Pons has given voice to the experience of being Cuban-American, Afro-Cuban, Cuban, African…and ultimately, simply human.

My heartfelt gratitude go to Andrea Steele, Claire Gonzalez, and María Magdalena Campos-Pons for taking the time to put this fascinating workshop together. It was an experience that I will always treasure, and it is one that I am confident will enrich my experience as a teacher and as a person.

Lemony Snickett y los Indignados

El Autor de los libros "A Series of Unfortunate Events" explica en un sitio web sus observaciones de los "eventos" recientes en Wall Street, en Nueva York.  Abajo comparto mi traducción al Castellano:


El texto original (en inglés) de Lemony Snickett se encuentra en: occupywriters.com

Trece observaciones hechas por Lemony Snicket sobre los indignados de “Occupy Wall Street” desde una distancia prudente




1. Si trabajas duro, y tienes éxito, no significa necesariamente que tienes éxito debido a que has trabajado duro. Igual que si eres alto con el pelo largo no quiere decir que sería un enano si estuvieras calvo.



2. "Fortuna" significa tener un montón de dinero y también significa tener mucha suerte, pero eso no quiere decir que la palabra tiene dos definiciones.



3. El dinero es como un niño—pocas veces anda solito. Cuando desaparece, busque a los que se suponía que lo iba a cuidar mientras estabas en el supermercado. También puedes buscar a alguien que tiene un montón de niños sentados a su alrededor, con largas explicaciones sospechosos de cómo es que habían llegado allí.



4. Gente que dice que el dinero no importa es como los que dicen que el pastel no importa: es probable que sea porque ya han consumido varios pedazos.



5. Puede ser que no haya una razón para compartir el pastel. Es, después de todo, el suyo. Es probable que se lo cocinaras a ti mismo, en un horno de su propia construcción con los ingredientes que te hayas cosechado. Tal vez sea posible mantener su torta entera al explicárselo razonablemente a tus ajenos que padecen hambre.



6. Nadie quiere caerse en una red de seguridad, porque significa que la estructura en la que ha estado viviendo esté en un estado de colapso y no tienen más remedio. Sin embargo, es mejor que la alternativa.



7. Alguien que se siente maltratado es como alguien que tiene sed. No les diga que no la tiene. Siéntese con el y toma una copa.



8. No te preguntes si algo es justo. Pregúntale a otro—un desconocido en la calle, por ejemplo.



9. Gente que se reúne en las calles sintiéndose agraviado suele ser ruidosa, ya que es difícil hacerse oído al otro lado de un edificio impresionante.



10. No siempre es la responsabilidad de la gente que grita fuera de los edificios impresionantes de resolver problemas. Suele ser el trabajo de la gente adentro, que tienen papeles, lápices, mesas, y una vista impresionante.



11. Históricamente, cuentos de personas dentro de edificios impresionantes burlándose de gente que grite fuera resultan en cuentos con finales infelices.



12. Si tienes una gran multitud gritando fuera de tu edificio, puede que no haya espacio para una red de seguridad si eres tu el que se caiga.



13. 99 por ciento es un porcentaje muy grande. Por ejemplo, fácilmente el 99 por ciento de la gente quiere un techo sobre la cabeza, comida en la mesa, y un pedazo de vez en cuando de la torta para el postre. Sin duda, podría hacer un arreglo se puede hacer con ese 1 por ciento que están en desacuerdo.

School: un poema

School

By Elijah Anderson Barrera 10-18-2011

When the time comes, we fill our satchels:

Mind, body, emotions, spirit,

And head off

Happy to see our friends, brothers, and sisters in the halls.

The teacher gives us a nod as each takes a chair,

And the lesson begins.

Some classes feel like play.

Some grind. Others hurt.

Sometimes we cry out it’s not fair, we’re not ready, it’s too much!

Some glide through the lessons,

While others repeat and repeat,

But, remarkably, we all manage to learn

With the humble tools we carry in our own satchels.

Each test pushes us to the edge of breaking,

But the teacher smiles kindly.

“Try this,” she says,

And lays another challenge on the table.

 

La Academia

Cuando llegue el momento, llenamos nuestras bolsas:

con mente, cuerpo, emociones, y espíritu,

Y salimos

Feliz de volver a ver a amigos, hermanos y hermanas en los pasillos.

La profesora nos guiña mientras nos ubicamos,

Y entabla la lección.

Algunas clases son como juegos.

Algunos nos muelen. Otros nos duelen.

A veces gritamos que no es justo, que no estamos preparados, que ¡no aguantamos más!

Para algunos la tarea es fácil, deslizándose de lección a lección,

Mientras otros, estancados, repiten y repiten,

Pero, incomprensiblemente, todos aprendemos

Con las herramientas humildes que llevamos en nuestras propias bolsas.

Cada prueba nos empuja al punto de quebrarnos,

Pero la maestra sonríe con cariño.

"Prueba esto", dice,

Y coloca otro desafío en la mesa.

Water lilies in Salamanca/ nenúfares en Salamanca

He vuelto a Salamanca, cuna de Castilla. La ciudad universitaria es una ciudad de edificios de oro que reflejan las colinas solitarias y secos de la esa meseta, una llanura alta, y me siento inmediatamente en el sitio perfecto con esta ciudad noble e histórica. He notado que este año, he tomado menos fotografías, y me he quedado boca abierta ante el patrimonio cultural impresionante de esta ciudad, a pesar de que he conservado toda mi estimación por su belleza.

Mis clases y profesores son excelentes, y mis compatriotas en el programa son exactamente tan amistosos y positivos como los recuerdo del verano pasado. Después de tres días ya a la universidad otra vez, ya me siento una toca de tristeza y nostalgia al saber que mi tiempo aquí será corta.

He ido a correr todos los días con un grupo de colegas a las ocho. Corremos a lo largo de un circuito en un sendero de tierra de un kilómetro en una bonita centro multideportivo justo bajando la colina de los dormitorios. Ayer, después de nuestra carrera habitual que de unos ocho kilómetros, a mis compañeros y yo estábamos enfriándonos y charlando en español por la entrada al lugar. De repente, un hombre con una gorra de béisbol y auriculares, casi me derriba, y añade en Inglés con accento Americano, “get the fuck away” (Vete a la mierda) Los tres nos quedamos asombrados. Por un instante, tuve el impulso de correr tras él y hacer algo--no sé que-para vengar mi honor. Sin embargo, el impulso se me fue, y dentro de un par de momentos, me había recuperado lo suficiente como para decir a mis compañeros, "ese tipo no sabe nada de mí-a quien le importa que diga?"

Al día siguiente, yo estaba en una de mis clases y el profesor estaba hablando sobre el movimiento modernista en la literatura latinoamericana, y la palabra "nenúfares" o lirios de agua, y me recordó la historia que había oído en la India sobre la simbología de esas plantas. En la antigua India, la nenúfar era considerada una planta sagrada, ya que tenía la habilidad singular de hundir sus raíces en agua sucia y estancada para producir la flor más limpio y más espléndida imaginable. Esto, por supuesto, es una metáfora de la forma en que debemos vivir nuestras vidas. Incluso en un mundo que parece lleno de la suciedad de la ira y la amargura, el odio y los celos, podemos actuarnos como el nenúfar, y hacer de nuestra vida una cosa de belleza.

I have returned to the city of Salamanca, the cradle of Castilia. In this city of golden edifices reflecting the lonely, dry hills of this high plain, I feel immediately familiar with this noble and historic city. I have noticed that this year, I have taken fewer pictures, and stood openmouthed in front of the cultural patrimony of this city, even though none of my appreciation for its beauty has been lost.

My classes and professors are excellent, and my compatriots in the program are exactly as friendly and positive as I remember them to have been. Three days into the experience, I already feel a bit of sadness and nostalgia knowing that my time here will be short.

I have been going out to run every day with a group of colleagues at eight o’clock. We run along a one kilometer dirt loop in a lovely multisport center just down the hill from where I stay in the dormitories. Yesterday, after our usual run covering about five miles, my companions and I are cooling down and chatting in Spanish by the entrance to the place. Suddenly a guy in a baseball cap and headphones comes barreling through, almost knocks me over, and adds in American English, “Get the fuck away!” The three of us were astounded. For an instant, I had the impulse to chase after him and do something—I don’t know what—to avenge my honor. Within a couple of moments, however, I had recovered enough to say to my companions, “that guy doesn’t know anything about me—who cares.”

The next day, I was in one of my classes and the professor was talking about the modernist movement in Latin American literature, and the word “nenufar” or water lily, and it reminded me of the story that I had heard in India about the symbology of is plant. In ancient India, the nenufar was considered a sacred plant as it had the singular ability to sink its roots into the most dirty and stagnant water to produce the cleanest and most splendid flower imaginable. This, of course, is a metaphor for the way that we should live our lives. Even in a world where things seem filled with the filth of anger and bitterness, hatred and jealousy, we can act as the water lily does, and make of our lives a thing of beauty.

La naturaleza en la obra de Gaudi/ Nature's Influence in Gaudi's work

La obra de Antoni Gaudí fue profundamente influenciada por su infancia en el campo, que el había pasado explorando el mundo natural. Como su salud frágil no le permitía jugar como otros niños, él desarrollo el poder de su intelecto increíble estudiando cada detalle del mundo natural que lo rodeaba.

Después de convertirse en arquitecto, mantuvo estas raíces. En su diseño del Templo de la Sagrada Familia, estudió las propiedades físicas del mundo natural. Estudio detalladamente las leyes naturales de las matemáticas y la geometría en el diseño de su templo.

De hecho, con el fin de construir la catedral, ató unos hilos a pesas y estudió los efectos de la gravedad en formar una red. De esta manera, se podría decir que la catedral con sus torres fue construida al revés. Como un árbol tiene raíces tan profundas como la altura de sus ramas, también Gaudí demostró que también es profundamente arraigado en el mundo natural.

The work of Antoni Gaudi was heavily influenced by his childhood in the countryside, which he spent exploring the natural world. Since his poor health did not permit him to play as other children did, he was able to develop the power of his incredible intellect to study every detail of the natural world that surrounded him. As he grew up and became an influential architect, he maintained these roots. In his design of the Sagrada familia, he studied the physical properties of the natural world as well as the natural laws of mathematics and geometry in the design of his temple. In fact, in order to build the cathedral, he assembled a series of weights attached to strings and studied the shapes that gravity made as it pulled the weights to the floor. In this way, it could be said that the cathedral with its soaring turrets and towers was actually built upside down. In the same way that a tree has roots as deep as it has branches above the ground, so too is the architecture deeply rooted in the natural world.

Chicos tocando balon frente a la sagrada familia.

Dos Pasiones/ Two passions

La gente de la ciudad de Barcelona es conocida por destacarse en dos cosas: la arquitectura y el futbol. El video abajo combina esos dos artes en una escena tan casual, tranquila y natural que me comunica el placer de trabajar en algo que te fascina.

De Vuelta a Cataluña/ Return to Catalonia

Un año después del primer viaje, llego al mismo puerto de entrada - Barcelona. Camino por los mismos pasillos del aeropuerto y cambio el dinero en la misma ventana. En camino del aeropuerto a la ciudad, hablo con el taxista. Discutimos los triunfos más recientes del equipo de fútbol, y la importancia de "la Masia", la cantera ilustre de Barcelona. Después de un vuelo de 20 horas sin dormir, llegamos al piso que será nuestro hogar durante los próximos días. Después de una ducha refrescante, salgo con mi familia a un mercado y recogemos algunos nísperos y pedazos de tortilla, que llevamos de regreso al apartamento para devorar, y luego echo una siesta de dos horas. La ciudad es tan impresionante como siempre, con colores vibrantes, gente elegante, y calles movidas.

A year after the first experience, I arrive at the same port of entry--Barcelona. I walk along the same hallways through the airport and change money at the same window. On the ride into the city, I talk to the taxi driver. We discuss the football team’s most recent triumphs, and the importance of “la Masia”, Barcelona’s illustrious youth academy. After a 20 hour sleepless flight, we arrive at the apartment that will be our home for the next few days. After a refreshing shower, I go with my family to a nearby market and pick out some loquats and slices of tortilla, which we take back to the apartment, devour, and then take a two-hour siesta. The city is as impressive as always, with bright colors, elegant locals, and bustling streets.