Taking the plunge

After many weeks of indecision and doubt I finally did what I had to do:

I'm now on Facebook.

I'm still somewhat nervous on joining the renown social network; I worry about how much privacy I'm willing to let go in order to communicate with others. On the other hand, being on Facebook will hopefully help me reconnect with lost friends as well as stay in touch with family abroad. I sincerely hope that the pluses far outweigh the minuses and that this can be the start of a very beneficial step for me.

Here we go!

What's in a name?

Image via smh.com.au

One of the few recent bright spots regarding my extended family is the pregnancy of one of my favorite cousins. Admittedly there are numerous faults with her bearing a child such as the fact that giving birth puts her health somewhat at risk. Worse still, however, is that the father is a married man who abuses her and treats her with callous disregard.

(Then again, she actually likes being with such an overbearing prick to the point that he might be by her side when she gives birth. So there went that.)

Though the circumstances may be problematic I'm very happy for her and sincerely hope that the child lives a happy, healthy, and satisfying life.

Since I'm so overjoyed at her impending birth (mid-May?) I decided to help out by figuring out an appropriate name for the girl. I've been told that a name has already been decided by the mother but perhaps I can change her mind!

Anyway, before providing my five picks here are some basic guidelines behind the names I chose:

• Since my cousin and her family is in Colombia I decided to choose names in Spanish. Furthermore, there appears to be an atrociously annoying trend over there of using English-language names with altered spelling. (i.e. Lady -> Leidy; Jonathan -> Jhonatan). I'm sorry but that concept makes me cringe!
• Speaking of trends, there's the terrible custom of calling people by abbreviated forms and not using their full name. Years ago, for example, I knew an acquaintance named Pilar yet her friends inexplicably called her "Pili". The other day I nearly broke my TV when someone referred to a woman named Maria Catalina as "Maricata". That name sounds like a virus for crying out loud!
  
• As the saying goes "brevity is the soul of wit". Hence, no names with four syllables or more.
• Preferably no names of any family members.
  
• Lastly, I tried to choose names that sound unique for Colombia but that don't sound too unusual or out of place. (This is probably the most subjective category of the four).

Without further ado, here are my selections:

1. Paloma - I adore the symbolism related to the name since it means "dove" in Spanish. (A represntation of peace). The name is a mere three syllables and there's no way it can be shortedned without sounding terribly out of place.
2. Rosa - I have to confess that this bends one of my rules since it's the name my aunts and uncles call my mother. Yet I like that it's very quick and easy to say in both English and Spanish.
   
3. Liliana - The danger with this name is that it can easily be shortened to "Lili" and thus break one of the aforementioned guidelines. In its full form, however, the name rolls of the tongue easily and has a nice, poetic sound.
4. Belen - This was the only name that I couldn't come up on my own in that I found it via a quick search of babynames.com. Aside from adhering to the above guidelines, what also appealed me to that name is that it's a unisex moniker.
5. Cristal - Three of the four names already mentioned end in "-a"; thus, I tried to choose one that doesn't. Cristal just so happens to be the name of a girl I had a massive crush on many years ago though that's not why I selected it. Rather, it's because I thoroughly enjoy Juana Molina and her song "El Cristal." (Is that a lame reason?)
   

I would be flattered should one of my chosen names be placed on the girl. In the end, however, that is of little importance so as long as she's a wonderful person who will live a full and fantastic life. I really hope that should be the case.

Año Nuevo, Vida Nueva: Missing You

On New Year’s Eve I mentioned one of several resolutions that I plan on carrying through in the upcoming months. The following is another one:

Family – Simply put, I miss my family in Colombia.

The weird thing was that I haven’t seen them during the Christmas/New Year’s holiday period since 2006. (I’m exempting this autumn since that was during immense duress).

Before the holidays I was not very enthusiastic to the notion of traveling over there with my mom and brothers. Yet there were occasions over the past few weeks that their presence was sorely lacking. For instance, waking up on Christmas Day and not being surrounded by grandma and the rest of the extended family felt odd. Mom was feeling rather down and she deserved to be with her beloved brothers and sisters. I got nostalgic to talk to my cousins and shoot the breeze with them. New Year’s Eve was lovely in that I was at home watching the ball drop and sipping on champagne but that’s nothing compared to getting plastered with loved ones, dancing the night away, and watching the sun rise above the fine mountain mist.

Admittedly there are some creature comforts that are missing when I stay in Colombia (e.g. warm showers, trusty toilets, non-English language TV) but its well worth giving up those luxuries when one is surrounded by happy family

How can I improve relations with those loved ones way south of the border? For starters, I really need to talk with those in La Palma more often via phone. Mom calls them at least once a week so I’ll try to horn in on her conversations more often.

In addition, there’s a better tool at my disposal: the Internet. For the most part it’s my younger cousins that are connected though I know an aunt or two who’s starting to get the hang of it. (Perhaps I’ll write send them an e-card tomorrow).

The easier option is one that I’ve deliberately ignored for quite a while. It’s an option that I once found to be juvenile and a waste of time. Alas, I cannot wait anymore.

One word: Facebook.

Just the thought of social networking makes me cringe slightly. It seems like it’s too easy. But then again, if I want to communicate more often with my extended family and be in touch with them then Facebook is the way to go.

I suppose the deciding factor was over last month when I celebrated my birthday and I received nary a message via e-mail. The preferred method was at least once every hour when my brothers, who have signed onto Facebook, would give me greetings from aunts, uncles, and cousins in Colombia. They had their own Facebook accounts and would “talk” to me using my brothers as proxies. By then I decided that social networking would have to do.

Despite my continued anxiety I’ll register with Facebook sometime this weekend. If it helps me communicate with my family thousands of miles away, who I miss immensely, then it’ll be well worth it.

The meaning of July 20th

Image via BBC News

With Colombian Independence Day drawing to a close I cannot help but feel very proud to be of Colombian background. I feel this way when…

…hundreds of thousands of people Colombians representing distinct races, creeds, and ideologies united to march against the kidnappings, massacres, and violence committed by black-hearted criminal groups.

…I eat such lovely delicacies as bandeja paisa, calentado, and huevos pericos (naturally)!

…I visited the grave of my father and thanked him for sacrificed everything and moved to the U.S. to provide a better future for his children.

…I cheered for futbolistas such as “El Pibe” Valderrama and “El Patron” Bermudez and continue to root for players like Macnelly Torres and Juan Pablo Angel.

…I quietly took the brunt of the numerous taunts hurled at me during my childhood and vowed never to allow their teasing to shake my pride.

…I laughed during “Mi Papa, Mi Abuelo, y Yo”, cringed during “Rosario Tijeras”, and wept at the end of “Maria, Llena Eres de Gracia.”

…I look at the weathered face of my grandmother while listening to her sage advice.

…outsiders conditioned with the stereotypes of cartels, coke, and whores find out that the myths do not always coincide with reality.

…I listen to the myriad of musical styles from artists like Grupo Niche, Los Aterciopelados, Pinker Tones, and El Binomio de Oro.

…I wear the bracelet given to me with the yellow, blue and red colors of the Colombian flag which was a gift by my extended family when I visited them after going nearly two decades without seeing them.

…I explain to others that “I’m an American of Colombian background” and the joy that I feel of being part of two vibrant, warm, diverse, and generous cultures. The best of both worlds!

Happy birthday dad

To rephrase this song:

Pain, pain fatal pain

It plays hideous tricks on the brain

Today was my fathers’ birthday. Had things gone ideally he would’ve been 62 years old and starting to enjoy retirement. Instead, he’s been dead for nearly three years and his remains are in a cemetery in a small Colombian town.

I want to say so many things; chiefly I wish I could lash out for his passing away and to let go of all the sadness and misery I’ve bottle up regarding his death. Yet for the sake of my family’s unity and progress (especially my mom’s sanity) I continue to look out for them more than me and I try to help them trudge forward.

It is this sacrifice for others which embodied my late father and that followed him to his last moments. (When he died he had been sweeping the floor and doing some light cleaning despite needing the rest after a ridiculously hard week at work. He didn’t have to do it and he was physically beat, but he wanted to neaten things up for us).

A quick anecdote: many years ago I was conversing with my dad. I asked him if he had such such a wonderful job, increased income, and was constantly surrounded by family in Colombia then why did he leave it all behind to start from square one in the U.S. His reply was simple: “I did it for you and your brothers.” Naively I couldn’t comprehend what he was saying; it seemed irrational that he would leave behind the cusp of his youth and so many things that gave him joy and satisfaction. He wanted to provide his future wife and kin with the freedom that he knew they would enjoy. His life in the U.S. was filled with obstacles especially in the first few years but he derived joy from our comfort and well-being. It was a concept that at the time seemed alien to me.

Yet in the many months since his passing I’ve grown to truly appreciate his words and the impetus behind them. His unselfishness and care for others was his legacy and it is something my brothers and I try to carry on. His memory and spirit will continue and hopefully grow in the upcoming years. He deserves it as he rests in peace from the heavens above; pleased, happy, and looking down upon us.

Pleasantries

No matter what I do and regardless of how content I may feel something will get on me and drive me down.

Tonight was no exception.

Although I was busy mom interrupted me this afternoon to ask that I prepare a check to pat a bill for one of my brothers. I did it that night and I wrote the check for a few dollars more than the bill requested. (It’s something I usually do as a sign of good faith and it’s usually good to leave a bit of credit on the bill whenever possible).

As I was trying to finish some typing at 10 she barges into the bedroom screaming.

“Why did you pay so much on the check?!”

I explained to her quietly and calmly that it’s something I always do as a sign of good faith, etc.

“Why are you gifting the clothing store so much? They just take the money and run! Don’t you know that by now!!!”

Naturally her yelping woke my brother up; the one whose bill I was taking care of and who was trying to get some rest before getting up at 4am.

My attempt to explain again was rebuffed anew. This time, she took the check and emphatically tore it up while admonishing me for my check-writing abilities.

By then I wanted to scream at her not so much because I could have been wrong but due to her taking such a simple task and blowing it way out of proportion. I am the one whose job is to pay the bills and I write out roughly 6-7 per month. I never get thanked for what I do.

What also perturbed me was that yet again she took me for granted. For the past 32 months I have sacrificed far too much of my sanity and well-being for her and the good of my family. Most of the time I don’t mind doing so and I realize that it’s a task thrust upon me since dad died. Yet a little gratitude can go a long way; a simple “thank you” can suffice. There’s no need to scold me like a toddler or yell like a banshee if I make a mistake on a silly task. I have to endure this huge burden of stress and responsibility upon me and it’s unfair to have to be treated as if I were an immature, unkempt child.

Ultimately I decided to throw in the towel and not refute her anymore. I interrupted her scolding, told her I would write a check, and promised her that I would take care of it. She kept up with her nagging though my calm assurances finally convinced her stop and she left the room.

Mom has gone through countless emotional outbreaks since dad passed away three years ago this September. Even when they would argue he served as her emotional keystone; one which was removed when he died. Though my brothers and I try our best to replace that keystone it’s just not the same. No matter what we do she will never recover from the mighty blow she received from his death. All we can try to do is lessen it as best as possible.

Unfortunately, my sympathy is tempered with rage; a tempestuous anger thriving off of stresses big and small. 9 times out of ten my calm demeanor really reflects the tranquility and rationality I feel. Yet there are occasions like tonight when it is merely a façade; a mask which hides my sorrows, rage, and disappointment. I would have loved to scream back at her and quell some of the rage that had built up in me. Doing so would have been fatal since she would’ve lashed out with even more anger and alibis, justified or otherwise. It would’ve shattered her own emotional state and brought forth who knows what. I did not fight fire with fire and though emerged burned it could’ve been worse.

Rarely are the occasions when I curse at my father whose soul is in the heavens above. I wonder why he had to go and leave me stuck with such an enigma. What did I do to deserve someone so loving and kind yet also so paranoid and crazed? In the end, whether I like it or not, whether I am happy or sad, calm or enraged this is what I have to live with. I have no other option but dutifully accept the positive with the negative and hope that the future can be better.

Reminiscing about the “motherland”

For the first time in four years my family will not be traveling to Colombia over the holidays. I’m feeling a little upset about that since I will be missing many things:

• Screaming at the TV while watching soccer club along with my futbol-crazed cousins.
• Being able to enjoy a taxi ride in what can be described as a golf cart with windows but for a small fraction of the cost compared to NYC.
• Heading to the corrientazos and savoring a hearty meal along with everyday people.
• Eating at El Corral and Crepes & Waffles with the not-so-everyday people.
• Holiday shopping at San Victorino in lieu of the ultramodern new shopping malls.
• Reading El Tiempo as a tangible newspaper rather than straining my eyesight reading online.
• Playing cards with aunts and cousins straight through the evening (and winning!)
• Partying into the New Year but not before everyone gets blessed by grandmother at midnight.
• Watching the sunrise on New Year’s Day after dancing and drinking far more than one should.
• Visiting my family which lives in different neighborhoods around Bogota instead of being stuck around a hotel in the more affluent northern part of the city.
• Trying my hand at sapo and tejo after taking a delightful swim in the pool at Murca.
• Getting up at the crack of dawn to eat breakfast, whether it is the complimentary one at the hotel or the one made with lots of love by my grandmother.
• Arguing over which team is more “cursed” - Millonarios or Red Bull New York.
• Quarreling over domestic politics such as the best way to handle the hostages kidnapped by guerillas or how corrupt the Uribe administration really is.
• Regaling cousins with descriptions of South Park episodes that have not aired over there.
• Not freezing my assiduous self off in NYC by sweating profusely in La Palma or getting drenched by the latest rainfall in Bogota.
• Watching Citytv, Señal Colombia, and the CM& news while making fun off some of the sappy holiday adverts, Jorge Baron, and dubbed Hollywood films.
• Trying to convince others that reggaeton and rancheras are not the only types of “good” music by making them listen to Los Amigos Invisibles, the Pixies, TV on The Radio, and Airiel.
• More than anything listed above, being surrounded by loving family members who are appreciative and unbelievably nice.

Not everything there is paradise and there are certainly some things I miss when I was over there. (i.e. not using my motorized wheelchair, not having Internet at all). Yet as I gradually realize that I will not be spending the holidays there I have become increasingly appreciative of the Colombian people, customs, and culture. It will be difficult to cope not being there this year though I have faith that by this time next year I’ll have my bags packed and will be ready to travel!

Thanksgiving thoughts

Today was a day of reflection for me in that I decided to spotlight those things that I am and should be eternally grateful for:

• Health – My physical health has been pretty good over the past few months and that has been rectified via a battery of exams. (e.g. blood tests, x-rays, EKGs, stress tests). Mentally has not been as good, especially over the summer when I was feeling lonely and isolated from others. However, my mind has been far from being as god awful as it was during my darkest days years ago. All in all, not terribly bad.
• Family – Although I won’t travel to see my extended family in Colombia for the first time since 2004, I feel incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by my brothers and mom. Given, it has not always been a smooth relationship yet they’ve helped me when I’ve been down and they are the main reason I have to live. If it weren’t for them I would’ve been dead and buried ages ago. (I assure that is not an exaggeration).
• Friends – Earlier this evening I decided to send an e-card to about forty friends, past and present. At some time in the past they have impacted my life in a positive way. For that I am eternally grateful and I sincerely hope that they comprehend how much I appreciate them all.
• Potential – Despite my constant complaining and cynicism I’m thankful that I still dream of a better future for myself and for those close to me. They deserve it, now and always. Our goals can be reached and we will keep striving onward until they are obtained.

Ultimately, life is what we make of it. That’s why I’m grateful for all the positive aspects of life and hopeful that we can overcome whatever obstacles try to knock us down.

Dreaming of a sane Christmas

I’ll explain the new format at a later time. At this time more pressing matters need to be examined.

I do not usually have a holly, jolly attitude over the December holidays, but I tend to look forward to them as a time for peace, respite, joy, and unity.

This year will be a lot different.

Christmas was my dad’s most anticipated and favorite holiday. He loved it since it reminded him of his youth in Colombia, and it would serve as his vacation time from work. Thus, he would always build ornate nativity scenes to go along with our Christmas tree. Villages would spring to life in a carnival of lights, porcelain buildings, figurines, and trains. Despite return from work bone tired he would dedicate several hours nightly to the design, construction, and transformation of half the living room into a veritable winter wonderland. After several weeks of laboring over the holiday scene he would enjoy every detail of the completed masterpiece. So much so that he would not take it down until late January and sometimes February.

This year marks the first time that my immediate family will not be spending the holidays in Colombia since dad passed away two years back. Even though we have had a reasonably good time the past three years we’ve been there, we just cannot afford to spend another couple of thousand dollars on the trip. In addition, time is not at a premium as it had been before since one of us working full-time while the rest are trying to sort our own odds and ends.

Over the summer I begged my mom to go alone to Colombia for two weeks in the autumn. I explained to her how therapeutic it would be for her and for our family there. It would definitely be affordable though my main concern was her mental well-being. I was worried that her being at home for the holidays would be too difficult for her to cope with. On a more selfish note, I was worried that she would become depressed and I would have to put up with it somehow.

Unfortunately despite my repeated requests she declined taking the trip alone.

She put up the Christmas tree last week and over the past few nights has tried to recreate as best as possible the nativity decorations my father so dearly cherished.

Tonight she broke down, cried, and wailed for approximately thirty minutes.

I will not try to pretend and comprehend the great pain she is going through. Her husband was truly her soul mate and nothing can replace the vast void in her heart.

However, I cannot help but feel a great sense of dread at imagining the difficulties of this holiday season. There are many times that I wish I could just break down and let all my emotions run free. Yet I learned long ago that I have to keep a brave face in order for her to be fairly happy. It would be easy to be honest and I wish it could be like that, but for her sake and stability I have learned to be two-faced.

I have no clue at how I will put up with the next few months. No matter how many times I visit my shrink or try to distract myself I am certain that the upcoming weeks will be yet another challenge I have to live up to. I don’t know how I’ll do it but I’m not looking forward to putting up with more suffering than I’ve lived with over the past 26 months. Its times like these that I wish life’s answers could come on a silver platter. Reality is much different.

This is too much to bear.

I don’t think I’ll ever like the holidays again.

Happy birthday guys!

In the fifteen or so minutes remaining today I want to wish you guys a very happy and joyous twenty-fifth birthday. Despite the quarrels and disagreeents we may have I am very proud of having you both as my brothers. I wouldn't change it for the world and I sincerely hope your future is bright and that all your dreams can come true.

All corny mushiness aside I hope you both enjoy these videos:

The pitfalls of benevolence

Over this holiday weekend I learned a very valuable lesson:

Be more selfish.

For over a month I have planning for the family to take advantage of the Labor Day Weekend in order to go out and have fun. The original plan was to go to Coney Island on Saturday but decided to change that mainly since I did not want to put up with the massive crowds that would descend there. (It’s a pet peeve of mine, I confess, to be around huge crowds of people. This is why I don’t like tourist traps.)

As a viable alternative I suggested going out to eat instead. Several ideas were floated and then supposedly decided on but they would be scrapped in favor of going to another restaurant or not going out altogether. Throughout the process I was more than willing to go along with everyone else for the sake of trying to find a solution best for all of us. It may not have been my choice to go to restaurant “A”, for instance, but if they wanted to then I would be comfortable with that.

Unfortunately the storm of indecision was leaving me drenched in anger and disillusionment.

Take this morning for example. Last night we all agreed to go Monday to a nearby Dominican joint and that I would call Access-A-Ride Sunday afternoon to arrange transportation. Yet shortly after waking up and getting the phone I was told that everyone else changed their minds and would be going to a Colombian place in Jackson Heights. My enthusiasm for going to what was originally chosen vanished as yet again plans were made then modified at the drop of a hat.

The straw that broke my back was that after arranging transportation to go to Jackson Heights my mom changes her mind s she could stay home and watch the Mets game. I couldn’t take it anymore after conforming to everyone else’s always-changing preferences for two days. I really wanted to go out this weekend and I eagerly anticipated doing so. Only that notion went up in a proverbial poof of smoke.

Worse still, I’ve been getting blamed for thinking of others ahead of myself. “That’s always been your weakness,” mom accusingly told me. “You’re too much of a conformist” she tries to rub in my face with.

With all my faults being tossed at me I came up with the obvious conclusion:

Be more selfish.

There are inherent risks with acting in that manner; chiefly, it is of not saying what I mean as well as rubbing others the wrong way.

But at this point I’m just disgusted and upset and disappointed and rattled. If things didn’t work out before then perhaps a different tact will get results.

If not then I’ll revert back.

I don’t care what works as long as it does.

Right now I’m at my wit’s end and desperately want something to work.

I’m truly sorry but it would've been a wonderful thing

I would very much like to see Morrissey again in concert. Despite having a fantastic time during his performance at the Apollo two years ago I just couldn’t afford to buy tickets for his then-postponed appearance earlier this year at Madison Square Garden. “$75 is far too much even if one is sitting mere inches from the stage”, I said to myself back then.

Thankfully and to my complete surprise he rescheduled several shows including in NYC including five nights at the Hammerstein Ballroom! “Better and smaller venue = lower ticket prices,” I exclaimed to my brothers as I salivated the chance to go see him in late October.

Wrong!

I am hoping that there will be cheaper seats available but if sixty-five bucks is the only price option then count me out. Despite the artist’s supposed admission that he has no involvement in the ticket pricing I just won’t go. It’s a simple mater of economics; for the price of one ticket I can put the money to better use paying the bills at home, for instance.

But that’s the way things have been for me over the past few years; sacrificing many selfish goodies in order to help my family. (For example, I am my mom’s de facto shrink even when I wish to not listen to her problems). It’s a role I’ve learned to accept for quite a while now and I doubt it will change any time soon.

In the end it works out for everyone and that’s what matters most.

The worker flea

I want to end the month of July on a positive note. Hence, I’m highlighting the monumental feat (at least in my family) of my brother, Kevin. Nicknamed “the flea”, he has leapt to become the first member of my household to gain full-time employment since dad passed away nearly two years ago. Today was his second day at work and his wide-eyed enthusiasm and fervor has been mixed with the exhaustion of getting up in the pre-dawn hours. If you look at this picture closely, you can catch those feelings in the wide smile and bags under his eyes:

From what little he has told me he has adapted incredibly well to the work environment, gotten to know several colleagues well, and has met the challenge of completing a flurry of assignments. It has been difficult after working from home for over a year and running at his own rhythm and style. However he’s busted his back in school and doing different projects to get the job that he so richly deserves. I’m very proud of him and hope that he will learn from this experience and it will be the start of a fruitful career.

"Sometimes I just don't know"

Bloody hell, I hate oversleeping.

Mom went out today to do run some errands in downtown Flushing. In a surprising move, she returned with a few small gifts for one of my bros who will be starting his first full-time job on Monday. We're all very proud that he's reached such a momentous and deserved occasion in his life. Now he'll enter the grind of busting his back at his occupation and hopefully it'll work out.

She also got some Colombian food from Jackson Heights which we devoured like Amazonian piranhas. Rotisserie chicken, beans, rice, fried plantain, and to top it off she stopped by Carvel to get an ice cream cake for dessert. Real good stuff.

Mom's on the phone now with one of my aunts in Colombia. I'm eager to find out how everyone's doing, especially grandma. I really hope she doesn't lose it though I understand if that happens to be the case.

So far I've yet to write to any long lost acquaintances/friends/colleagues. I better get crackin' on that tonight.

Though I don't regret the decision to miss the Joe Vasconcellos' gig last night, I've spent some time checking out concert footage of his on YouTube. Yes it would've been nice to go, but like the rest of the family I must pay my proper respects to Uncle Javy's death. He was one of the kindest, gentlest souls I've ever known and we all miss him very much.

MP3: Bill Withers - I Don't Know

Adios Joe, I got to get back to work

I had planned for weeks to go see Joe Vasconcellos tonight at the Queens Theatre in the Park. I had really looked forward to enjoying his eclectic Chilean folk and rock stylings in a live venue. Yet it was not to be since I'm paying respects to Uncle Javy who died on Monday. I could not in good conscience go to a concert mere days after his passing and keeping in mind that my entire family is very sad and upset about his death.

Maybe next year I'll see Joe in concert so as long as the circumstances are right.

In the meantime, I will respectfully mourn the memory of Uncle Javy and hope that my family can slowly but surely move forward. I am certain that they can though my biggest fear is that my grandmother will not. Though she has always had a very strong attitude, she is in her 90s and is getting increasingly weak physically. A few hours ago we spoke on the phone for the first time in weeks and I could tell in her voice that she feels very frail and vulnerable. She and Javy were very close and it's hard to imagine how things will be like for her now that he's gone. I hate to have this anxiety in my mind; a worry that is shared by most of the family. It's an uncertain situation and only time will tell how she will react to it in the (hopefully) long run.

Selfishly speaking I must take advantage of the weekend to resume some work that I left behind over the past week. My UN work has gone untouched and I need to contact my supervisor ASAP. I've been in something of a writer's rut regarding the thesis work though I hope to get the ball rolling again on that quickly.

Crap, I forgot to send the e-mails to long lost friends and acquaintances. There's another thing I have to do on the weekend.

I wonder if she still remembers me?

Moving on

Uncle Javy's funeral was Wednesday morning in La Palma, Colombia. my family here in NYC could not make it to the ceremony, though we talked to our aunts tonight and they said that everything was solemn and peaceful. Grandma wept a lot but in a quiet and very dignified manner. Just about the entire town of a no more than a few thousand people packed the church. It was the town's version of a state funeral for someone beloved, respected, and admired by all.

Wednesday was difficult not only in that I wasn't over there but I was home alone with my thoughts and nobody to talk too. Though I did chat briefly with a few friends it was only a small relief compared to my bros and mom being by my side. I did got some work done thankfully, but the solitude was overbearing and I waffled a lot with my work.

Despite being moping and depression today I have resolved to break out of funk starting tomorrow. I have far too many things to get done for me to be listless. Much like when dad passed away I need to move on and try to serve as an example for the rest of my family. (For example, I'll try to call grandma over the weekend and try to give her a boost so she can feel better).

For now I'm in something of a transitional phase where I ponder over the lessons one can learn from such a tragedy. Even though my cardiologist told me on Tuesday that my cardio system is in tip-top shape, I must keep in mind to exercise regularly and maintain a healthy lifestyle. Also, one should not take friends and family for granted; they are to be appreciated and enjoyed. (Which is why I'm going to send a bunch of e-mail greetings tomorrow to some acquaintances I haven't heard from in ages). Finally, one should take advantage of every day and exploit it for what it's worth.

Off to bed and early to rise. Tomorrow is a new day and I must be ready for it.

Gone

He's gone.

Uncle Javy's gone.

He wasn't improving at all during the weekend and this morning he passed away.

His entire family here and there are absolutely devastated and I'm certainly no exception to that.

My mind has been dull and unfocused all day. I barely got any work done. I just don't want to do anything until I can stop feeling so numb and helpless.

Yes, life goes on. It was a harsh lesson I learned all to well after my dad suddenly died. But I feel like being in stasis; unmoving, blank, still.

Inasmuch as I want to stay home curled in the fetal position I cannot. I have to go see my cardiologist on Tuesday and find out the results of my stress test. As if I weren't enough an anxiety-ridden wreck now I have to add worry over my health to that.

Most family over there have taken the news relatively well. That is, they're not in hysterics or paranoid. I really hope my grandma can pull through with her emotions and not become ill due to this.

It hurts far too much.

What else can be said but to take things day-by-day, little-by-little.

Adios Javy.

Running around

I really ought to be coming home from tonight’s free Neko Case concert in Central Park. Alas, it was not to be for several reasons including the heavy storm that was supposed to fall today (which didn’t), and the lack of reliable and accessible bus service at this time of the night. (The steam pipe explosion on Wednesday made the latter problem many times worse than usual).

But more than anything it was the very stressing and tiring days today and yesterday that have just about knocked me out.

Yesterday I was at the Hospital for Joint Diseases all day in order to take care of some urgent problems with my health insurance and to accompany my bros to their respective appointments at muscle clinic. Besides being on the road for roughly a dozen hours the main problem ad to do with the changes with Medicaid and related health care that have made things fast more difficult for my brothers and me. For instance, whereas before I could just make an appointment to muscle clinic or equipment clinic with little trouble now I have to got through the rigmarole of filling it paperwork and getting referrals from my primary care physician. Perhaps I’m making it seem like before it was as simple as snapping one’s fingers but it feels that was compared to the current feeling of having to jump through a myriad of hoops.

Making things worse was the lack of accurate answers by the staff at the hospital. I talked to three different people regarding my situation and I received three distinct replies. It was as if more red tape was being added to the already growing mountain of confusion and complexity.

Oy vey!

Below are a pair of pics taken yesterday, first of my brother Jonathan then of mom and Kevin:

Today was not as difficult and harried, thankfully. I woke up at before dawn and went with Kevin and mom to the dentist. Unfortunately, some miscommunication nearly derailed my trip as I was not scheduled to be seen today. Mercifully, there were some early morning cancellations so Kevin and I got our teeth thoroughly cleaned by a very kind albeit slightly sadistic dental hygienist. Unfortunately for me, it was not my usual hygienist which was too bad since I really like to see/chat/lightly flirt with her. Oh well.

Afterwards we decided to celebrate Colombian Independence Day in our own low-key, simple way by having a killer breakfast at a cozy Colombian bakery on 46^th Street and Queens Boulevard:

Chicharron, chorizo, coffee, arepas, corn mazitas.

The perfect remedy for our heady minds, tired bodies, and growling stomachs.

The rest of the morning was spent on running a few errands (e.g. supermarket, Kevin’s haircut) before returning home. I took this pic while taking a quick breather on the street outside the barbershop:

So yes, I did miss going to the concert tonight and I know I would’ve enjoyed it thoroughly. However, I’m getting some much needed downtime at home which will definitely come in handy since I’ll be playing catch-up with some pending work and even more appointments await me next week.

C’est la vie, non?

MP3: Neko Case -Bowling Green (Live, 2000)

MP3: Neko Case - I Wish I Was the Moon Tonight (Live, April 2006)

Hoping against hope

A very close uncle in Colombia has been on death's door since Friday. He is by far one of the smartest people I know in terms of his desire to learn and to acquire knowledge. Despite his little formal schooling he tries his best to comprehend the many ideas and issues in the world around him.

Now he's clinging to life while being hooked up to machines and tied to a hospital bed on the outskirts of Bogota.

He should've been dead based on the sporadic information I've been told by family over there. He had been very ill for several weeks yet nobody suggested that he see the doctor nor had he shown the initiative. It was not until Friday morning that one of aunts noticed his extremely weakened condition and took him to the clinic in La Palma. After being given several IV packets he was whisked via ambulance to a larger clinic several towns over, then to Bogota.

At every step of the way the doctors were amazed that he wasn't dead and noted that he was literally fighting for his life. Yet he could pass away at any moment despite his almost superhuman efforts to pull through.

I've been a wreck all weekend long trying to keep it together but it's been incredibly difficult. I'm hoping against hope that his situation can improve and trying to give the impression of being calm, cool, and collective much like in the aftermath of dad's death. It's just a weak facade, however, and everyone knows it.

In the meantime my family's playing the waiting game to wait and see how his condition has been. We're preparing ourselves for whatever news arises; good or bad.

Praying and wishing and thinking and weeping.

We'll just have to wait and see.

Anxiety over Death

Friday was a day were I had to deal with death in the form of a distant colleague dying as well as one of my family members on the verge of dying.

I can barely think straight, to be honest. The shock has yet to dissipate. I'm a nervous wreck. My plans to see some friends at the Cafe Tacuba concert on Saturday have vanished because I feel so out of my element. I don't want to go out and I would much rather stay at home in some seclusion.

Perhaps I'll go into more detail tomorrow.

In the meantime prayers are in order along with the hope that the family of the deceased can move on and the ill family member can pull through.