Una Vuelta Completa - Full Circle

There are a lot of cycles (los ciclos) in life that are part o our everyday rhythm, such as the cycle of a hour on a clock (un reloj), the cycle of moving from morning to night and back to morning in a day, and the seasons (las estaciones) throughout a year.  There are also natural cycles (los ciclos naturales), such as photosynthesis, the water cycle and the rock cycle.  What separates a cycle from other types (otros tipos) of events is that the movement beings in one place and moves through a series of connected events to in effect come back (volver) to the starting point.  These cycles are in effect circles (un círculo), revolutions that start and end at a relative and congruent point, a sequence that is completed and repeated over time.

One such cycle of annual ritual at UTEP and at many universities around the world is ceremony (la ceremonia) of graduation.  Graduation is an event that celebrates the termination of a degree plan (un plan de estudios) that signals the completion of an academic program at the university for undergraduate, graduate and doctoral students.  Although this is a finite point (un punto finito) on a linear progression within a plan of studies, the cyclical part of this idea is that at the end of each semester (cada semestre), a graduation occurs, bringing one such celebration at the end of the Winter term in December (diciembre) and another at the end of the Spring term in May (mayo).  For academic faculty and staff, this does become part of the annual academic cycle, as we don’t merely attend (asitir) one graduation, we attend 2 annually, continually for our entire academic careers.

Many (muchos) large universities also have a Pre-Commencement ceremony, which is usually for a specific college within the university.  For example, I work in the College of Education and we have a ceremony prior (antes) to the main university graduation event, one which is a bit more intimate (intimo), and also allows the faculty and staff in the College of Education the opportunity to recognize (reconocer) outstanding accomplishments, awards and honors for students as well as advanced degree achievement.  At this event, which for us is actually held the night before (anoche) the main university graduation, the college itself celebrates the success of the students along with their families and friends.

It is at this event that I find myself with a unique perspective (una perspectiva única), a reflection on a cycle of a year marked by this Winter Pre-Commencement, from both this year (este ano) and last year (el ano pasado).  At this ceremony, exactly 1 year ago, I was sitting on the stage (el escenario) understanding that I would be leaving the next day to begin a journey with students, faculty and my wife, Sarah, all the way to Antarctica.  I remember feeling the uncertainty (la incertidumbre) of this event in many ways, unsure of what would transpire, what events would take place and what would ultimately be the impacts.  It was a time of anticipation, of relative anxiety (una preocupación relativa) and excitement, a time fraught with expectations, a journey to a place so far away (muy lejos) that I can remember thinking, “I wonder what will happen to us all?”

Now, one year later, I have made it to this year’s Pre-Commencement ceremony, having only returned the day before (ayer) from my six-month excursion in Santiago, Chile as part of the Fulbright US Scholars program.  As I was greeted by my colleagues and saw students and families ready to celebrate (celebrar) their achievements, I found myself reflecting on the year that had been, one that began with a journey to Antarctica and finished with a return (una vuelta) from a half-year in Santiago.  This cycle was unlike any that I had ever experienced in my life (en mi vida) , and probably as unique a set of experiences as I could ever hope to experience (experimentar) in one year’s time.  While the cycle of graduation will surely repeat (repetir), and I imagine I will find myself back in this spot again next year, I am looking forward to seeing how (como) this set of unique events will translate to my life here in El Paso.

La Casa - Home

I have traveled a lot (mucho) in my life, and have been on a lot of airplanes (los aviones) over the years.  I can remember getting on a plane as a young child (un niño) and heading out with my parents (mis padres) to Florida to visit relatives and enjoy the sunshine (el sol) in the southern US.  Although I enjoyed my trip there greatly, I can remember an excitement (un entusiasmo) about returning home, anticipation to a time that signaled an end (un fin) to the unfamiliar and a return (un regreso) to the familiar.  Over the years, as I have ventured to destinations both near and far, to places for short periods (tiempos cortos) and long periods of time, the process of coming home has always been a positive and welcomed event.

Sitting on the balcony (la terraza) of my apartment in Ñuñoa, Santiago, Chile, I am taking one last long look at my view (la vista) of the city skyline and the majestic snowcapped Andes Mountains in the distance (en la distancia).  This view has been so familiar over the last six months and I know that it will soon become a memory (una memoria), as Sarah and I begin our trek back home.  The process of returning began days ago, but now the planning (el planificación) and the packing were being put into action.  Our friend Claudio had arranged transportation for us through the university (la universidad), and a small truck (un camioneta) was needed to take 2 undersized North Americans and 4 oversized, overweight and bulbous bags (las maletas) to the airport.  We headed out around 7 PM Santiago time (3 PM MST) only to be enveloped in gridlock traffic (taco extremo), as Madonna was on her South America tour and on this night, she was kicking off her run of concerts (los conciertos) in Santiago.  I joked that the government (el gobierno) only allows one superstar in Chile at a time, and hat meant that I have to leave, a joke (una broma) that did not translate well or even come across as funny.

Once through the check-in process and complete with paying the fine (la multa) for the overweight luggage, we moved onto the security area. Saying goodbye to Claudio was hard (difícil), as he has been my mentor, my friend, my advocate and role model for these six months, but we were also confident that we would soon see each other again (otra vez), whether it is in Chile or in the US.  Anyway, we said our goodbyes and made it thorough security (la seguridad) and to the boarding gate area.  Soon, we were on the plane, and it actually took off on time, and we were in the air by 11 PM (7 PM MST).  As we lifted off and I could see the lights of the Santiago city sprawl, I felt a pang of sorrow (la pena) coupled with a sense of joy. The juxtaposition of this internal strife would only continue to oscillate (oscilar) as we crept closer to the US.

The deep night darkness (la oscuridad) was broken with dotted lighted areas on the ground, with small clusters of lights signaling civilization, but I was unsure (indeciso) whether we were over Central America or Mexico. As day broke, the lights also increased and soon we were preparing to touch down (aterrizar) in Dallas, Texas, with a landing that happened right on time, around 6:30 AM CST (9:30 AM Santiago – 5:30 AM MST).  Moving off the plane with great trepidation (inquietud), I made it through customs, where an agent welcomed me back home to the US of A, stating, “It is always good to come back to America.”  I had to agree (estar de acuerdo) with him, although silently I knew I had never left America, only moved from North to South and back to North again.

A bit later (después), and another airplane flight, which was also on time, rendered me closing in on the familiar sites (los sitios familiares) of home, the desert landscapes, the Franklin Mountains, the interstate (la carretera) running through town and of course, Ciudad Juárez across the river.  With this entire opening up in the morning light (la amanecer), a true signal was sent that indeed, home was just around the corner.  At the airport, we were met by our friend Chris, who had been living in our home and taking care of all things there, including our two big dogs (nuestros dos perros grandes), Judah and Brodie.  He surprised us by having the dogs with him in the truck, which presented a truly memorable greeting (un saludo) and a thoughtful effort that left Sarah and I speechless.

I moved into the driver’s seat (el asiento del chofer) and as I drove the truck down the familiar highway leading to familiar streets (las calles familiar), I maneuvered the truck towards home, seemingly getting there inherently, as if on automatic pilot (piloto automático).  Pulling into the driveway and seeing our house, it was almost too much to bear (soportar), a dream now a reality, a memory replaced by real life.  Around 11 AM MST (3 PM Santiago), we were in our house, some 20 hours from start to finish (la empieza al fin), a day’s journey to a destination half a world away.  As we lay on the living room floor (el suelo de sala), the dogs joined us and this huge dog pile was the ultimate sign that in effect, we had truly come home (a casa).

La Madrugada – Daybreak

I have always (siempre) been a morning person and I find daybreak (la madrugada) to be a refreshing and inspiring event.  When I was younger (más joven), I used to like to stay awake until dawn, to see the new day come into light (la luz) from the darkness (la oscuridad) of the night before, to hold the expectation for a new beginning directly, to find communion in the tranquility (la tranquilidad) of the awakening morning. 

I know a number of people (la gente) who share this view and a number who can do without it, as the chance for sleep (el sueno) seems sweeter in first light for others, but for me, it is almost a call (una llamada) to arise, a chance to start anew, an opportunity fresh and unspoiled.  Some people find this habit (el habito) annoying and mock the morning person, a not so subtle response (la repuesta) to the ever present cheerfulness of the early riser, who may be in the office so early (muy temprano) and so wide awake.  Yet, I see the time in the early morning beginning with daybreak to be unspoiled, to be free of noise (el ruido) and traffic (el trafico), to be unhindered and alive.

As I sit here in my apartment (mi departamento) in Santiago, and stare out of the window (la ventana), catching the sun’s rays gently touching the peaks of the Andes Mountains, I understand that this is my last dawn (el final amanecer) that I will see this site for some time.  I understand that a new day (el día nuevo) is upon me, one that will begin here in Ñuñoa and hopefully end somewhere in the air (en el aire) over Central America, in a plane that will be heading into Dallas, Texas in the next morning’s light.  After that, the next steps (los pasos próximos) will be to make it through US Customs and back into line to try and get on another plane (un otro avion) and make it home to El Paso.

I have to admit (admitir) that some things went really well here during my time in Chile and that some things (algunas cosas) didn’t go so well either, but it is not the individual successes or failures (los fracasos) that really matter, it is how you respond at the end of it all.  There is a saying (un dicho) that is does not matter how many times you fall, but how many times you pick yourself up.  In other words, it is not the failures or the successes (los éxitos) that matter, but how you respond to them, it is not the number of days you have counted (has contado), but the one that you have anew in your midst. 

The morning light is a gentle reminder (un recuerdo suave) of the potential of the day, that there can be a fresh start (una empieza fresca), and that this idea, this guiding principle, can actually be lived out with (con) each breaking day.  That to me is the important point, that we have an opportunity to excel (destacar), a chance to be forgiven and redeemed, a time to hope (esperar) for a better way. Sometimes it is important to have thoughts (los pensamientos) and to give things a lot of reflection, but it is equally important to put (poner) those thoughts into action.

As I stare out into the morning light (la luz de la mañana), I recognize that this is the call of the new day, the time (el tiempo) for taking what I have learned and applying it to my life anew.  I only hope (solamente espero) that I am up for the task.

Dos Pies en la Tierra - Two Feet on the Ground

I have never (nunca) been one who has been lacking for practicality, as I am inherently searching for something that I can use in my life (en mi vida), not merely think about, but apply in a practical way that will help me to learn (aprender) and to grow (crecer). When I teach my classes at the university, many of my students often comment that they have learned (ha aprendido) practical applications that they can immediately implement in the classroom (en el aula), and this is an important goal for me as well, that they have useful materials that are not solely based on theory, but on practice (en practica) as well.

I am also a constructivist by nature, in that I like to have (tener) an experience first and then look to understand (comprender) the content.  I have certainly applied that here in Chile, as I literally jumped in with both feet (con dos pies), landing here in Santiago, not unprepared, but somehow hoping that by effort and presence, I might be able to make (hacer) sense of things, even in Spanish.  I was at times unprepared for the reality (la realidad) of the content, but did find that in time, with more experience, the information all around me, that was in many ways constant (constante), suddenly began to make sense, whether it was in my professional life at UMCE or on the streets (en las calles) of Santiago and elsewhere in Chile.

As I am preparing to get ready to go (ir) home, to head back to the US, to get back (regresar) to my home university at UTEP and to see (ver) my family and friends, I am reminded that I am still wholeheartedly in Chile at this very moment (en este momento). Sure, I am allowing myself to think (pensar) about my life back in El Paso, about returning to my house, about greeting my dogs (mis perros), which hopefully will not bite me or run away, about seeing my neighbors (mis vecinos) and about getting ready for the Christmas holiday (la Navidad).  I mean, I may have begun to plan to get home, maybe even daydream (un sueno del día) about what I will do when I am home, but I have to remember (recordar) that at this point, I am not home, I am still physically here in Chile. 

A friend (un amigo) recently asked me if I had 1 foot in Chile and 1 foot (un pie) back home, implying that I was neither here nor there (ni aquí ni allí), but somewhere in between.  I had to reply that I am firmly here in Chile, with 2 feet on the ground (dos pies en la tierra), growing where I am planted.  I was not trying to be confrontational or even less than truthful (verdadero), as I really feel that way, I am here and when I leave for home, I will not be here.  In other words (en otras palabras), I still have opportunities to impact my learning, my life and the situations all around me today (hoy), right where I am, here in Ñuñoa, in Santiago, in Chile.

People talk about living in the moment (el momento), but in reality, living in the moment is at times very difficult (muy difícil), especially if the moment is hard or a more attractive moment is looming close (cerca) on the horizon.  I think the big message for me to that you have to grow (crecer) where you are planted, and that your 2 feet on the ground signals your place to be (su lugar para ser).  In that regard, I hope to grow a bit more today in Santiago, so that I can live better (vivo mejor) and grow better once I am firmly planted back home (en casa).

Las Maletas – Suitcases

How do you fit 2 people (dos personas) into 4 suitcases (cuatro maletas), 2 carry-on bags and 2 backpacks (dos mochilas) who have been out of the country for over 5 months?  I have no idea, but that is the task (la tarea) of the day.  This is the same amount of luggage (el equipaje) that we came with when we arrived in Santiago, and the plan is to leave (salir) with the same amount of luggage, albeit with some of the same things as well as a large number of completely different materials (las materiales diferentes). 

When you travel by air these days, you not only have a limit (un limite) to the number of bags, you also have a weight limit (un limite de peso). There are different rules for international and domestic flights, with domestic flights (los vuelos domésticos) being stricter in terms of costs for additional bags as well as having a lower weight limit. I believe this is done in part because (porque) there are more domestic flights than international flights, and the airlines (las aerolíneas) can stick it to you easier and make more money (más dinero) on flights that are shorter and in effect cost less for passengers. 

We have a limit of 2 checked bags, and each bag (cada maleta) has a limit of around 50 pounds each.  If you have a bag between 50-70 pounds, you are charged a fee (una cuota) of $50 US for each one, and it you have a bag over 70 pounds, it is a fee of $100 US.  If you have more than 2 checked bags, there is an additional fee (una cuota adicional) of $100 US for each checked bag.  So, the game (el juego) if you will is to try and stay under the limits where you can and know exactly what the weights are of your bags before you get to the airport (al aeropuerto).

We are in this process (este proceso) in a big way today, trying to fit in all our gifts (nuestros regalos) for Christmas along with all our clothes and personal items.  On the flight (el vuelo) over, we had 2 bags overweight and 2 bags right on weight, and we are trying to keep this same ratio (la misma proporción) intact, as it will result in a fee of $100 additional for our luggage, but this is a fee I am clearly willing to pay (pagar).  You also have to be savvy about your carry-on baggage, as they also have to fit size (tamaño) and weight requirements, which is usually much easier to navigate (navigar) when you are already paying additional fees.

When you begin an effort like this, you also have to begin (empezar) to plan (planear) weeks before you pack, as you have to liberate (liberar) many things, and we have gifted a number of personal items, such as clothes (la ropa), athletic equipment, household items and personal hygiene products to our friends as parting gifts for their hospitality and support (la hospitalidad y apoyo).  We have also been the recipients of an equal amount of good-bye gifts and have also purchased a number of items for friends and family for the holidays (las vacaciones). 

As we sit with our bulging suitcases before us, we continue to remind ourselves (recordarnos) that it is not what you bring home, but that you make it home safely (con seguridad).  We also hope that our things make it intact, but we also understand that things can be replaced and that the most important things on the plane (el avión) are, in effect, the passengers (los pasajeros), of which we are two.

Una Colección de Memorias – A Collection of Memories

I have always enjoyed traveling, and also collecting memories (las memorias) of my travels and sharing them with my friends and family.  Over the years, this has taken many forms, in the old days (en los días pasadas), I would take pictures with an instamatic camera and then go and have all the pictures (todas las fotos) developed.  Next, I would go through the pictures, select the best ones (los mejores) and eliminate others and put the pictures in a photo album that I would often enhance with small reminders (unos recuerdos pequeños) from the trip, such as ticket stubs, flyers from events or information from restaurants and city sites.

As I got older and the technology (la tecnología) got better, I would take photos on my digital camera, which could hold some 200 (doscientos) pictures and I could review the shots almost instantaneously, selecting the best ones and removing the mistakes to the trash (a la basura).  For a while, I would select the very best, and go to the local pharmacy (la farmacia local) and print out copies from the electronic formats and put them into other photos albums, again with memorabilia (los objetos de interés) from the travels.  There was always something fun (divertida) about assembling such a scrapbook, a living memory from a wonderful time, to share (compartir) with others in a familiar setting and to explain (explicar) the trip in detail, information that was enhanced by a personal touch.

Today, I don’t really even print (imprimir) out pictures anymore, except perhaps a nice photo of my wife (mi esposa) and I on some romantic spot or some extra cool place that we can then put in a frame (un marco) and place on a mantel in our home, or on my desk (mi pupitre) at work.  I have been slow to assemble (montar) any new photo albums that sit on my shelves at home, the events in these volumes, which in reality (en realidad) number around 15, sit stuck in time, reflecting many years effectively, but seemingly mired in the past (en el pasado), without some news from the recent events of our lives. 

The current times are reflected completely (completamente) electronically, as the photo album of old has given way to the online (en línea) version, where albums can be assembled with great ease and all the photos can be shared with friends and family merely by sending them a link (un enlace) to click on in order to view all the pictures.  Although you can add captions (las leyendas) and even share video along with the photos, and you can add (añadir) detailed text in the form of an online journal or blog, the intimacy (la intimidad) of sharing in person has given way to the convenience of sharing online.  Yet, the memorabilia of a trip (un viaje), the things you encounter and hold as souvenirs (los recuerdos) or special reminders of actual events, seem to be left out of the loop (la lazada).

When I came to Santiago, I decided that I wanted to have a way to chronicle (mostrar) my memoires in many forms, most of which were online in order to share with friends and family back in the US. Yet, I also felt the need (la necesidad) to have a physical reminder in my apartment, a place where I could collect odds and ends (cosas distintas) and post them bulletin-board style, so that I could see where I had been and remember the events (los eventos) I had done in a nonlinear and free flowing manner.  The resulting collage of ticket stubs (billetes), information from newspapers (los diarios) and magazines (las revistas), pamphlets (los folletos), flyers, restaurant napkins (las servilletas) and the like, all were taped to a shower curtain (una Cortina de la ducha) that hung taped to a door in the apartment. 

The resulting collage became a tactical reminder, a work of art, eclectic (ecléctico) in nature, but practical in its presentation.  It is important (importante) to share things you experience with others, but it is also just as important to make sure that you take the time to reflect (reflexionar) and to enjoy (disfrutar) the journey all along the way.

Un Horario Distinto – A Distinct Schedule

I am a person who likes to set up and to follow (seguir) a schedule, sometimes it is really beneficial, some times it leads to selfish compulsion, but most times, it helps me to organize (organizar) myself and to add basic structure to my days and weeks, both at home and at work.  As a professor, you have a lot of self-directed time, and I find that if I set a schedule (un horario) for myself each semester, I have a better balance in my life, both personal and professional.  I have to make sure that I set aside specific time to exercise (hacer ejercicio), to learn (aprender) new things, to write (escribir) papers and to teach (ensenar) my classes.  Sometimes, I even set up meetings with myself, so that I won’t give away the time that I might need to accomplish (lograr) my tasks, objectives and goals.

Yet, this fascination with order (la orden) and schedules can also lead to some interesting world views, in that at times, I am a bit too specific (bastante especifico) and schedule driven. As an educator, I make a big deal to my students that I start (empiezo) on time and end (termino) on time.  In meetings (en las reuniones) that I lead, I am sure to set a specific agenda with a defined time limit (un limite del tiempo) that I send it out ahead of time.   I often see this as a management strength (una esfuerza); something that is often echoed by my fellow North American colleagues, whom share my habits (mis hábitos) as well.  We are taught in the US to value time and to do things quickly (rápido) and efficiently, which often translates to other cultures and uptight (tenso) and limiting.

For example, I live on the border of the US and Mexico and a number of our friends have roots (las raíces) in the Mexican culture, and when we are invited to their houses for a gathering, we will often ask them at what time we should arrive and how long the party (la fiesta) will take place. They often stare back in disbelief (la incredulidad) that we even consider both the beginning (la comienza) and the end (el fin) of a party, something that is defined more by the day than by the hour in the Mexican culture.  It has even gotten so bad that we will ask that if a party is set to start at 7 PM, we will ask if it is gringo time, which means 7 PM on the dot (en punto), or Mexican time, which means about 9 PM, and we will adjust ourselves depending upon their response and direction.

In Santiago, this “gringo time” concept (concepto) has also caused us to demonstrate (demostrar) our differences with our Chilean friends, who like our Mexican friends, define events relatively, taking the time to enjoy (disfrutar) the moment, but also to extend (extender) it for a long period of time.  A lunch in Chile can last 8 hours, and a party even more, and the idea is to set (emprender) a starting time, but the end is never scheduled and rarely discussed, it is something that just happens when everyone is ready to call (llamar) it quits.  This is something that we have learned and have tried to be more flexible with throughout our time here in Santiago, but some times, our North American roots and love (el amor) of precision, even in public gatherings, comes out in public.

Recently, we had a gathering in our small apartment (nuestro chico departamento) here in Ñuñoa for our friends here and we set it up to be a 2-hour event from 7 to 9 PM that would be after work (después del trabajo) and before dinner. This is very common in the US, but it had our friends (nuestros amigos) here in stitches, unsure if we would make people leave at 9 PM, or just give each set of guests (los invitados) a 2 hour limit that we would somehow enforce with a list on a clipboard.  Between snort laughs and of course, only in Spanish, we tried to say (decir) that we were flexible, while we desperately tried to cling (pegarse) to some type of schedule for the evening.

Our friends here got the last laugh (la risa final), as the 2 hour gathering was no less than 5 hours, and the lesson to be learned is that while it is good (bueno) to have a schedule, it is also best (mejor) not to limit those you really care about, and to enjoy all the time (todo el tiempo) you can together, regardless of the plan.

Una Vida Refresca – A Refreshing Life

Everyone likes a cold drink (una bebida refresca), especially as the temperatures begin to heat up as spring (la primavera) sets in and begins to offer a glimpse of the summer (el verano) to come.  In the southern United States, there is a tradition of serving of iced tea, a concoction that is very sweet (muy dulce), served with care over ice with lots of lemon.  The secret (el secreto) to making the sweet tea is to boil (hervir) the tea first and add lots of sugar to the heated mixture and then allow it to cool (enfriar), so that the sweetness of the sugar is fused into the taste (el sabor) of the tea.  It is certainly an acquired taste, but one that all southerners know and love.

In Chile, as the temperatures start to rise (subir) now in the month of December, and everyone begins to have (tener) thoughts of the end of the school year, which brings rise to plans for the summer, to vacations to the beach or to the mountains, to the north (al norte) and to the south (al sur), to places near and to places far away (muy lejos).  It also signals the time for foods (las comidas) of the spring and summer, especially the fruits and vegetables that appear with great abundance (con grande abundancia).  The fresh strawberries (las frutillas frescas), the wonderful cherries, the uniquely flavorful Custard apple (la chirimoya), the ripe melon and the luscious watermelon all make their appearances at the dinner table (la mesa) and at the picnics throughout the country.

It also brings a special drink that I liken to the sweet tea of the south, a drink that is like tea, but has a grain (un grano) at the bottom and also a pealed peach complete with pit in each glass.  This drink, Mote con Huesillo, is a seasonal and wonderful cool drink, one that refreshes not only the thirst (el sed) but also the body (el cuerpo), as it is more like a full days meal all in one. Served best in a large glass (un vaso grande), the mote or husked wheat, sits at the bottom (al fondo) of the glass and has more than likely been soaking in the juice of the tea to which is added a dried peach, the huesillo.

The peach also adds its sweet and refreshing flavor to the mix (la mezcla), and as you cut off bits of it with your spoon (su cuchara), the pulp adds more taste to the tea.  You alternate between sips of tea with the peach and scoops (las palas) of mote with your spoon. By the time you finish the drink, you are both refreshed and full (satisfecho), it’s almost like a carnation instant breakfast drink, without the chocolate aftertaste, but complete with all the nutrients (los nutrientes) for a full day of fun.

It is a signal (una señal) of summer, a time to get ready for the relaxation of vacations to come (venir), and is truly a unique and important part of Chile that I highly recommend.

Yo Soy un Puente – I Am a Bridge

Bridges (los puentes) are something with which I am very familiar and have lots of experience.  Where I grew up in Richmond, Virginia, the James River runs through the center of town (el centro de la ciudad) and divides the city into areas in the north, south, east and west. You transverse the city by continually crossing bridges to get (viajar) from one side to the other, to cover (ir) a distance over impassable terrain, in this case, rushing river water.   Without the bridges, you would have a smaller world (un mundo más pequeño), a more local existence that would be mitigated and influenced by what was directly around you, not what you might see on the other side (al otro lado).

Where I currently in El Paso, Texas, there are a number (un numero) of bridges that link the border (la frontera) of the US and Mexico, in some ways covering the gap between two different cultures, two different countries (dos países diferentes) and two different cities.  The bridges serve as lifelines of commerce (de comercio), where goods and services pass back and forth, from Juarez to El Paso and from many points throughout the US to many points (a muchos puntos) throughout Mexico.  The bridges also serve as links (las enlaces) for people to move back and forth between two different places, some in cars, some on buses (los micros), some on foot (en pie), whatever the mode of transportation, people stream back and forth at every hour of the day, for every day of the year.

When I set out to come to Chile, I knew I would have an opportunity to learn (aprender) about a new culture and to share my own experiences as a citizen (un ciudadano) of the United States of America.  The Fulbright Commission sent out information that talked about the role of the individuals for the US as cultural ambassadors (los embajadores culturales), in effect representing the US to the citizens of the host country, in my case, here in Santiago and throughout Chile.  I knew this was something (algo) that was to be taken seriously, and something I certainly felt completely unprepared to do (hacer), I mean, I am a professor, not a member of Congress or the State department, I have no official training (no entrenamiento oficial) in being a liaison or a representative of any shape or form.  But in some ways, that lack of training qualified me completely, to be able (poder) to present a true picture of a real person and to search (buscar) for that in others in my life in Chile.

I am a bridge (yo soy un puente), in that I represent my country here in Chile, and I am a face (una cara) of the US for many of the people I encounter, both academics, students and regular citizens, and I have a great chance to make this a truly positive experience, a real experience to remove (remover) misconceptions and to build (construir) relationships and cover new ground.  I am also a bridge in that when I go back home to the US, I will now be an advocate (un defensor) for Chile, a person who understands the people, who knows the ways things are done, and how the culture in manifested into people’s daily lives (las vidas diarias de la gente).  I am a bridge, in the same way that bridges span distances between two solid points of ground (la tierra), I span the distance between two countries and between two cultures.

I recently had a colleague (un colega) tell me that he enjoyed my academic contributions, but one thing that stood out to him, was that as a North American, I was able to have (tener) a positive impact on the students at UMCE.  He mentioned that their experiences with me helped to shed some light (la luz) on the reality of the US, and that maybe we all have more in common than we are lead to believe (creer).  I guess that is the best part of being a bridge, in that your real purpose is to allow others to cross the path (un camino) that you are upholding.

Un Día Especial y Familiar - A Special and Familiar Day

Today is my Father’s birthday (cumpleaños) and he would have turned 87 if he had not passed away in 1999, just a few months past turning 77.  It is a day that I celebrate in a special and familiar way (una manera especial y familiar), a day in which I have lots of quiet reflections about my Dad, about his impacts (sus impactos) on my life, his interactions as the head (la cabeza) of our family, and of course, how he treated other people.  I know it is also a day that others in my family take the time to reflect (reflexionar) upon; I have discussed this with my Mom, who has now turned 85, as well as my older brother (mi hermano mayor) and my sister (mi hermana).  It is hard to believe that it has almost been 10 years (diez anos) since my Dad died, but his impact on my life continues to today.

My Dad was a great guy (un hombre bueno), a true larger than life figure; a member of the Greatest Generation, a man who set off to World War II as a young adult, who rose to be a Capitan in the Army (el ejercito).  My Dad fought under the command of General George Patton, who made such a strong impression upon him that my brother’s middle name (medio nombre) is Patton.  My Dad fought in the Battle of the Bulge and was in Berlin when it fell, a true American heroic story, echoed throughout that generation (esa generación) for eternity.  My Dad was only 21 when the War started and only 25 when he was leading other younger men to the finish (el fin) of the War before turning home.  I look back on my life and have to admit (admitir) that at 25, I was no where near that point, in terms of responsibility and maturity (la responsabilidad y la madurez), and in some ways, I am not sure I can match it even now.

My Dad always valued education, coming back from the War and heading to the university (la universidad) as a newlywed on the GI bill.  He became an engineer (un ingeniero) and later a successful business man, using his abilities to lead (conducir) and to understand (comprender) situations quickly.  He provided a great life for his family, rising through the struggles (las luchas) to provide opportunities for his children to achieve in their own lives without the worry (la preocupación) of resources, both financial and familiar.  For me, my Dad always supported my plans in school and was the first to promote (promover) the value of an education, and he sent me to the university not once or twice, but through graduate school as well (también).

By the time I was pursuing my doctorate (mi doctorado), I was well on my own, married and managing my own education, but my dad always encouraged my academic pursuits (mis actividades académicas).  Although he passed away before I obtained my doctorate, I did try and honor him and his impact on me by including him in the acknowledgements (los reconocimientos) of my dissertation, and also by attending my graduation to receive my doctorate, something I had not done at any other level (ninguna otra nivel), never attending a graduation since high school.  I thought this might be a moment (un momento) he would be proud of, and that I would put aside my selfish manner and participate in a ceremony (una ceremonia) not for myself, but to honor a guy who had contributed mightily to the success I had achieved, who had shown me how to be the man I am today (hoy).

The ultimate thing (la ultima cosa) that I always remember about my Dad, not only on his birthday, but almost everyday of the year (del ano), is how he would talk about people in one of two ways.  He always said to me, “In the world, there are givers and takers, which one are you going to be?”  Even as a young kid or a middle-aged man, that saying rings true (verdad), and my Dad showed me in his life how to be giver and how that was the right choice to make (hacer).  In some ways, that is all it is about for me, and the world (e mundo) is full of takers all around, some unknown in my life, some close and well known.  But, with the help of my Dad (mi padre), both in his life and in his memory, I can choose to be a giver each and everyday (todos los días).

Al Fin de la Calle y un Poco Más – The End of the Road and a Little More

I live on a cul-de-sac in El Paso, which is a fancy way of saying I live on a dead end road (una calle sin salida).  I don’t think of this as a metaphor (una metáfora) for any state of mind or body that is going on in my life, but (pero) I do acknowledge that it does have an inherent symbolism (el simbolismo) built into it.  I truly like living at the end (el fin) of a dead end road, as it is relatively traffic free, only my neighbors (mis vecinos) or an occasional lost person really shows up at the end of my block (mi cuadra). Sure, we get visitors to our house, but you really have to want (querer) to go (ir) there, I mean, it is not a short cut to anywhere, it is merely a destination unto itself, a place where you can only go and then turn around (dares vuelta) and leave the same way you came.

When I was growing up, I lived on a corner (un rincón) of a pretty busy road in a neighborhood of families with kids (con niños) coming and going on all throughout the day.  It didn’t seem like there was much traffic (mucho trafico) there, until my Dad was retried and he began to count (contra) the number of cars that went past our house each day (cada día), and to try and to implement (implementar) a plan to put in speed bumps or a traffic light (semáforo) or something like that, which of course, never happened.   When I was a kid (cuando estaba joven), I used to go down to the nearby cul-de-sac to play in the streets with my friends, to have a quiet and undisturbed area free of cars (sin autos) and people wandering through the neighborhood, just a place where we could safely practice (practicar) on our bikes, skateboards (las patinetas) or engage in competitive games of kickball.

In Santiago, I live on the tenth floor (el decimos piso) of an apartment building, and although the area is relatively quiet, traffic, both vehicles and people (vehículos y gente ambos), stream by all hours of the day, from dawn to dusk and well into the night.  I have also been throughout the city (la ciudad) and the country (el campo) seemingly with people wherever I turn, never really alone (solo) or at ease, like in a cul-de-sac road.  In some ways, here, there are no dead ends, and perhaps (quizás) that is another metaphor for my life, in that there is always a new path to explore (explorar), a new opportunity to uncover (destapar), a new door to open and to walk on through to see what is there on the other side (al otro lado). 

I even went on a road recently (recientemente) with friends, and we go to the last town on a mountain road, which sat at the foot (al pie) of the Andes, which loomed tall and majestic all around us. As we drove on a dirt road (una calle de tierra), we came to what I thought was the end of the road, the cul-de-sac in the mountains, and that we would have to stop (parar) and to hike on foot from here, or turn around and head back the way (el camino) we came. Yet, as we drove past the stop sign, and headed into what to me seemed the veritable abyss (el abismo), suddenly a new road opened up, a new path was before us to explore that took us to new heights, to new locations, to things we had not seen or experienced in nature (en la naturaleza) during our time in Chile.

I guess the message is that sometimes it is important (es muy importante) to go to the end of the road, and to look for how things will continue (continuar) to another place.  In that sense, the cul-de-sac is merely an attitude (un actitud), not a destination, and perhaps the important point is that even when you come to something (algo) that appears to be a dead end, there is still something new to see (mirar), to learn (aprender) and to experience (experimentar), if you give it a try.