Friday, May 29, 2009

te dejo madrid...

Madrid and I have a love-hate relationship.

The city is a rebellious ex-convent schoolgirl who grew up, got sophisticated but never forgot how to have a good time.

Beside the whole social and historical "discovery of the Americas" and killing-the-natives thing, the Spanish capital does not look favorably upon people from their former colonies. Madrid also cost me nearly 500 euros for missing a court appearance for painting a small mural on an abandoned building back in 2007. Not that I had issue with appearing in court but the court appearance was after my return flight home and I was not going to fly back to Spain to hear b.s. from a judge.

But me and the Spanish Consulate of New York are on speaking terms now.

Madrid is a relatively new city by European standards, founded in 1561 as the capital of the then greatest Empire of the world and of the Hapsburg King Felipe II. Madrid is a special place for artists and is arguably comes in second behind Paris in terms of quality European museums. There's El Prado, the Thyssen Bornemisza
, with hundreds of French impressionists and old Italians masters, and the Reina Sofia Museum, with Spanish artists from the XVIII to the XX centuries, such as Picasso, Dali, Miro, Juan Gris, Santiago Rusinol, Zuloaga, Chillida, etc. (Salvador Dali donated all his better and most well known paintings to the Spanish Government). Picasso's famous painting Guernica is also in this museum and is the only painting that I can recall that has ever made me cry and this includes any painting or sculpture I have seen in Florence, the Vatican, the Louvre, or the Met in New York. This triangular area is internationally recognized as the greatest cultural concentration of art in the world.

Madrid is
ok, but I would say it lacks the grandeur of other European capitals like Paris, London, Berlin or Rome. Yesterday, I noticed that the Banco de España was closed, the main bank of Madrid in the capital city of the country was closed. It was a fitting metaphor for a country that largely squandered its riches from The Conquest. Of course, there are beautiful churches in Toledo, Salamanca and Madrid but how about the infrastructure, technology, and expertise befitting a world-class city. Spain does not have a center of finance like London or designation as a major trade hub like Frankfurt. Spain lost its Empire...and had almost nothing to show for it. A truly great country can only be measured on how it stands the test of time to posterity. And the characteristic of Spain is its role as colonizer of South America, Central America, the Caribbean, No.Amer.and Africa. It gave its heritage, culture, language, foods and religion to indigenous people; quite an amazing feat despite a bit of terror during the inquisition era.

Countless Indians and indigenous natives lost.
Territories (now countries) in Latin America served merely as means to extract resources such as gold and silver, tin and sugar to Spain, without developing the infrastructure of these cities. Undefended ports serving as capital cities (counter to geopolitical norms) to barren interiors that served as productive plantations and little else. The creation of mixed populace that served as a caste system that still devalues native customs and colored where the lightest and whitest, who are damn near 1/8th conquistador themselves, maintain cultural domination at the head of a social hierarchy left over by the Spaniards.

Remind me why do I love you again Madrid?

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

beautiful dreams, brave little dog...

There are 750,000 people in Amsterdam and 500,000 bikes This is hard to imagine until you get there... I was loving it!

I loved how when there would be two people riding a bike, the person on the back would jump off whenever they would come to a bridge so the person pedaling could get over it. Then they would jump back on and keep going (there is an infinite potential for laughter as individuals do not always jump back on successfully...) So when in Amsterdam, find a corner café facing a bridge, such as East of Eden (Linnaeusstraat 11), order an Amstel beer and enjoy...

"May your glass be ever full. May the roof over your head be always strong. And may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead"

~Old Irish Toast

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

the moment of truth...

BullFight- Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas, Madrid
19 May 2009

My god!

Six bulls, to be killed by three matadors, are usually required for one afternoon's corrida, and each encounter lasts about 15 minutes. At the appointed time, generally 5 PM, the three matadors, each followed by their assistants, the banderilleros and the picadors, march into the ring to the accompaniment of traditional paso doble (“march rhythm”) music. The matadors (the term toreador, popularized by the French opera Carmen, is erroneous usage) are the stars of the show. They wear a distinctive costume, consisting of a silk jacket heavily embroidered in gold, skintight trousers, and a montera (a bicorne black hat). A traje de luces (“suit of lights”), as it is known, can cost several thousand pounds; a top matador must have at least six of them a season.

When a bull first comes into the arena out of the toril, or bull pen gate, the matador greets it with a series of manoeuvres, or passes, with a large cape; these passes are usually verónicas, the basic cape manoeuvre (named after the woman who held out a cloth to Christ on his way to the crucifixion). The amount of applause the matador receives is based on his proximity to the horns of the bull, his tranquillity in the face of danger, and his grace in swinging the cape in front of an infuriated animal weighing more than 460 kg (1,000 lb). The bull instinctively goes for the cloth because it is a large, moving target, not because of its colour; bulls are colour-blind and charge just as readily at the inside of the cape, which is yellow.

Fighting bulls charge instantly at anything that moves because of their natural instinct and centuries of special breeding. Unlike domestic bulls, they do not have to be trained to charge, nor are they starved or tortured to make them savage. Those animals selected for the corrida are allowed to live a year longer than those assigned to the slaughterhouse. Bulls to be fought by novilleros (beginners) are supposed to be three years old and those fought by full matadors are supposed to be at least four.

The second part of the corrida consists of the work of the picadors, bearing lances and mounted on horses (padded in compliance with a ruling passed in 1930 and therefore rarely injured). The picadors, straight out of Don Quixote wear flat-brimmed, beige felt hats called castoreños, silver-embroidered jackets, chamois trousers, and steel leg armor. After three lancings or less, depending on the judgment of the president of the corrida for that day, a trumpet blows, and the banderilleros, working on foot, advance to place their banderillas (brightly adorned, barbed sticks) in the bull's shoulders in order to lower its head for the eventual kill. They wear costumes similar to those of their matadors but their jackets and trousers are embroidered in silver.

After the placing of the banderillas, a trumpet sounds signalling the last phase of the fight...

Although the bull has been weakened and slowed, it has also become warier during the course of the fight, sensing that behind the cape is its true enemy; most gorings occur at this time. The serge cloth of the muleta is draped over the estoque, and the matador begins what is called the faena, the last act of the bullfight. As with every manoeuvre in the ring, the emphasis is on the ability to increase but control the personal danger, maintaining the balance between suicide and mere survival. In other words, the real contest is not between the matador and an animal; it is the matador's internal struggle.

The basic muleta passes are the trincherazo, generally done with one knee on the ground and at the beginning of the faena; the pase de la firma, simply moving the cloth in front of the bull's nose while the fighter remains motionless; the manoletina, a pass invented by the great Spanish matador Manolete (Manuel Laureano Rodríguez Sánchez), where the muleta is held behind the body; and the natural, a pass in which danger to the matador is increased by taking the sword out of the muleta, thereby reducing the target size and tempting the bull to charge at the larger object—the bullfighter.

After several minutes spent in making these passes, wherein the matador tries to stimulate the excitement of the crowd by working closer and closer to the horns, the fighter takes the sword and lines up the bull for the kill. The blade must go between the shoulder blades; because the space between them is very small, it is imperative that the front feet of the bull be together as the matador hurtles over the horns. The kill, properly done by aiming straight over the bull's horns and plunging the sword between its withers into the aorta region, requires discipline, training, and raw courage; for this reason it is known as the “moment of truth”.

Friday, May 22, 2009

welkom aan amsterdam...

On the way to Amsterdam...

1. I missed the damn Thalys train by exactly one minute. Not because I was late to Gare du Nord but the kiosks to retrieve the tickets do not read US-issued credit cards because they lack microchips. So am standing on line while watching as the train leaves before my very eyes.

2. So afterwards am talking to the clerk in France and she messes up the whole itinerary, cancels my return train to Paris, tells me there are no more trains to Amsterdam for the day, etc. 

3. Finally, get on a train two hours later and it continues for about an hour and a half and then stops in Brussels, Belgium. Just stops, and then an announcement is made that this is the final stop. Apparently the train splits in half in Brussels and then continues on to Amsterdam. In the mean time, you have about 5 minutes to go from one end of the train to the other. A train that is about 2 city blocks long. So it is a mad dash from one end to the other.

4. Finally, the right train and in time, headed to Amsterdam at last and The Bulldog Coffee Shop, Museumplein and Damrak Street for the next 30 hours or so...

...then back to Paris! 


Wednesday, May 20, 2009

raindrops falling on my head...

There's one thing you can count on in Paris during the month of May, and that is random rain showers. Not since New York last summer have I had the joy to walk through one hell of a monsoon rainshower and get my boots soaking wet. But then again, one rarely seems to enjoy the Champs Elysees during rush hour as much as when everyone is hiding from the delirious wetness falling from the skies.  Today I got caught outside of the Trocadero metro stop by that omnious looking grey cloud that you see hovering over the Eiffel Tower. 

Realizing that my camera is not waterproof I decided to head into one of the overpriced cafés overlooking the Eiffel Tower and ride out the storm before heading towards the Military School beyond the Tower. Even though only half a drop (two at the most) hit my camera, it was done for the rest of the day. Au Revoir for now...

Sunday, May 17, 2009

soixante-douze heures à paris...

Five hours after my last final for the semester I headed off to JFK straight to Charles De Gaulle-Paris, back to my favorite city in the world. Thank goodness for flight delays because I was running extremely late for my flight (late as in 45 minutes prior to the flight late), plus the delay allowed me time to spend some time with my other half who I never see as often as I would like. The 1148pm departure time means I arrived in Paris around 2pm the next day, a little later than I would have preferred and two full hours after the scheduled arrival time. No matter.

My first stop on any trip to Paris is to Le Avenue des Champs-Élysées starting at the Arc de Triomphe and then walking down past the U.S. Embassy towards Place de la Concorde and Les Invalides. This 1.6 mile little stroll helps to orient me once again to the city and gives me the opportunity to check out the latest haute couture. It also leaves me connected to some of the most useful metro lines in the city: the 1, 6, and 9. 

Food is also one of my favorite highlights; and for the best in steak, pommes frites, french onion soup, chaussons aux pommes and other delectable pastries, gratin dauphinois, croque monsieur and Coquilles Saint Jacques I like to head out to the old Jewish quarter of Paris (Le Marais), along the Rue des Rosiers.  The area abounds in cafes, bars and book stores and quite possibly the best Gelato spot in the world along 31 Rue Vieille du Temple, Amorino

Finally, it's off to the biggest attraction of all, the Eiffel Tower. No matter how many pictures, movies or little statuettes that you have seen of it, there is nothing like actually standing in front of the real one.

I love that you actually see the French walking through the streets carrying their baguettes. But most of all, I love how the French take life at a slowed down and enjoyable pace. Work is not an end in and of itself, it is merely a means to reaching an end: a happy and content life. When the weather's nice, why not take a little longer at lunch and just sit in the park, playing with your kids or enjoying a glass of wine? Perhaps a game of bocce ball with a long-time friend makes more sense then sitting locked away inside a cubicle? In essence, the French know how to live, and that is what I love the most: the French way of going through life...

You cant go wrong with baguettes, beurre, et tasses de vin rouge by the Seine...ever...through love or despair Paris will forever remain the same to me...

::sigh:: je suis complètement heureux...

Thursday, May 14, 2009

m-o-m (s)...

All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to the women who have profoundly impacted my life.

First and foremost, to my great-grandmother. Who at 85 years of age represented the foundation of all the successive generations and whose death I have still not come to terms with. Anywhere I go, anywhere that I travel, I wish you to be there with me. One day I will bring some of the few remaining items of yours that I have managed to steal from others in the family and bring it to Israel, a country you never got to see but always wanted to travel to. I hope that you may always provide me the strength I need to overcome any and all hardships I may face in life. Thank you for all your sacrifices and embodying unconditional love.

To my maternal grandmother Carmen who now assumes the leadership role of the oldest. It has taken awhile to realize why you are distant at times and come to grips that you do not react good to pressure. Perhaps when you have a strong mother like you did, it breeds children who are not used to fending for themselves. Sort of like the difference between a domesticated animal and a wild one. Hopefully you will realize soon that all the psychological chains of the past, placed by people who are no longer here on this earth, have corroded enough over time that they will break if you only have the will and the courage to accept freedom than servitude to invisible demons. Thank you for all the summers at your house and for always making the foods that I wanted. For teaching me how to play at dominoes and for giving me enough freedom to have my first girlfriend and first real kiss that summer of 1993. What happens in the woods of Florida, stays in the woods of Florida ;-) 

Lastly, to my mother Carmen without whose love for those first nine months and beyond, nothing would have been possible...quite literally. I'm glad I've got you for a mother...some stranger wouldn't have put up with me this long. Only a mother can communicate love without saying a word. For the many unspoken ways that you share your love in our family, I hope you know that you're loved and appreciated beyond measure.

“The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.” 

~Honore de Balzac

Monday, May 11, 2009

a yellow, red, a black or a blue one...

America's earliest settlers, who came in search of religious freedom, passed on a vision of America that still shines today. Between 1820 and 2001, more than sixty-seven million people came to the United States from every corner of the globe, attracted by the promise of liberty and opportunity.


…there are some Americans who don’t want newcomers in the country; and even some of the newcomers, once they get settled, don’t want any other immigrants to come. Usually the newest immigrants are poor, and willing to work hard and for less money than those who have arrived earlier. So some people want to stop immigration because they fear competition for jobs.

“There are other reasons, too. Because the newcomers are poor and can’t speak the language, they need help in school. That costs money-tax money. The cities where many immigrants live are overcrowded and filled with crime, so there is a need for extra police and extra city services. Some people say, "Why should we have to pay for the problems of these poor people?" They don’t stop to think that the newcomers are often doing jobs no one else wants to do- scrubbing floors, washing dishes, or building houses.”

Although a bit uneasy and disturbing, this quote accurately describes in a completely politically incorrect way how many Americans currently feel about new immigrants, particularly Hispanics. Wouldn’t you agree?

The above, present tense day quote, reflects what was going on back in the mid-1800’s - the thoughts and feelings of a growing nation towards the immigrants of the era. Back then they were digging ditches and building railroads instead of mowing lawns or building homes; apart from this, I was surprised by the timelessness of the feelings and worries of the American citizens. Did it boggle your mind as well?

History keeps repeating itself.

Back then as well as today, there was a lack of understanding, a misjudgment of the new immigrants, a fear that their culture and customs would change all that was familiar, a fear of loosing jobs to the new comers. People forget that these individuals make up the building blocks of America. They don’t stop and look around to see that what they are fighting against is actually what has made the United States the largest economy in the world today.

You need to always remember that this country is made out of immigrants-both voluntary and involuntary (that is, those brought over by the slave trade). The only people indigenous to the US are Native Americans (there is even an argument to be made about that), which now comprise less than one percent of the total population.

Everyone in this country, aside from those who are 100% of Native American descent, is an immigrant or a descendant of immigrants.

From the pilgrims on the Mayflower to those who yesterday set his foot for the first time in the United States searching for a better life for themselves and their loved ones-all of them and their descendants are the essence of America.

America’s Family Tree

People have flocked to the United States believing in the promise of the famous words that appear on the plaque at the base of the Statue of Liberty:

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Independently if you are aware of it or not, these words resonated in the heart and mind of someone up your family tree. They risked everything, left loved ones and all that was familiar behind, came to America looking for a better life for themselves and their families, “burning their ships” once here.

Many of those who came, regardless of their country of origin, were running away from poverty, from political, religious or social oppression, or from lack of opportunities in their homeland. They, in one way or another, were discriminated against, struggled to make ends meet, felt lonely and desperate. They overcame all these and worked their way up, achieving success, independently of how it was measured. You are the living proof that all their efforts were not in vain.

Germans, British, French, Scottish, Irish, Italians, Swedes, Hebrews, Australians, Norwegians, Spaniards, Dutch, Mexicans, Portuguese, Poles, Africans-all shaped America into what it is today. All came with a dream, with a hunger for freedom, craving for a shot at the opportunities that only this great country has to offer.

The Hispanic community, from the early beginnings of this nation, has been an integral part of America. Latinos (Spaniards and/or Mexicans) where among the first to settle in, or at some point in history rule over, many areas of North America that now constitute States of the Union: Texas, Nevada, Utah, New México, Florida, California, Arizona, Louisiana, Mississippi. In fact, many ancestors of current day Hispanics never crossed the border, the border crossed them! One day they were part of México, the next they were US citizens.

How Fast We Forget

When first arriving on American soil, almost all immigrants have landed at the basement of the socio-economical system. Either because of a lack of marketable skills and/or little or no knowledge of the English language, they end up taking all those jobs that second generation immigrants (and beyond) have outgrown, due to the rapid upward mobility that the strong, relentless US economy consistently sustains.

Still, new immigrants, once established, tend not to want more people to come as they, too, perceive that immigrants will change their way of living and dilute the opportunities for them and their children.

A good example of this is the Irish Immigration sparked by the potato famines in 19th century Ireland.

In the early 1800s the Irish, who spoke English but were Catholic (in an overwhelmingly Protestant society at the time) immigrated in large numbers to the new world. Poor and with not many marketable skills, they became servants and laborers, being responsible for most of the canals, railways, rural highways, city streets, sewers, and waterworks built back then. They were discriminated against because of their religion and for being foreign-born.

By the late 1800s the Irish had joined the ranks of the other “native-born” and were against embracing new waves of immigrants, claiming that the new immigrants took away jobs from Americans by working for low wages.

How easy it is for us to forget through the passage of time, especially if we do not consciously make an effort to transfer history from generation to generation. By understanding what your forefathers went through you would not only empathize with what more recent immigrants are going through, but would open your hearts and minds by welcoming them into the American society and, more important in the context of this book, into your business.

The Ol’ Melting Pot

Up until recently, it was expected that every group of immigrants that came to America adopted the culture, beliefs, social structure, language and way of life of the male, white, Anglo-Saxon, protestant dominated society. Every group of immigrants, from Albania to Zimbabwe, had to set aside their customs, beliefs, traditional food, clothing, language and any other vestige of who they were, and adapt to the mainstream in order to fully function in this society. For some it was not such a difficult task as to others who barely clung to it only in the privacy of their own homes and in that microcosm tried to pass them along to new generations.

Still, for the most part it happened as expected. During the 19th and early part of the 20th centuries, even if reluctantly, immigrants became part of the “American Alloy”.

Means of transportation and communication were neither as abundant nor sophisticated as they are now, impeding frequent contact with all that was left behind in the old country. With the passing of time, everyone became part of the mainstream American melting pot.

From the first English settlers to today, English has been the language of choice. Still not until recently was it declared the “national” language, politically staying short of calling it “official”. Independently of all the spin, it is a fact that in order to be part of mainstream America and totally enjoy all that this nation has to offer, you need to master the English language to a certain degree. From recent surveys, and as I contend later on, language does not define culture. In their majority, immigrants consider learning English a good thing, not seeing it as an impediment in their efforts of preserving their own culture.

The New Kaleidoscope

On this postmodern era, thousands and thousands of persons are coming to America from all over the world, with the same hopes and dreams as this nation’s earliest members, facing the same challenges of yesteryears. Yet, due to today’s reality it is a completely different ball game regarding the assimilation and acculturation processes.

First consider methods of transportation: Back in 1620 it took 36 days for the Mayflower to travel from Plymouth, England to Plymouth, Massachusetts (3,242 miles), even thought the duration for the transatlantic voyage became shorter as time went by; at its fastest time it was still significantly longer than the 8 to 8 ½ hours it now takes to air travel a similar distance from London to New York (3,470 miles).

Now let’s take a look at the forms of communication. Back then, staying in touch with family and friends from the homeland was a great feat. During America’s early days, people stayed in touch mainly through letters. Mail was carried on ships from the US to Europe, taking a little less than a month to arrive. Then the transatlantic telegraph became the method of choice for all rapid long-distance communications until 1927, when commercial telephone service (using radio) began between New York and London. A three-minute phone call cost $16 at the time (or $182.35 in 2006 currency). You can see why back then it was not so difficult to let go of your “roots” and merge into the dominant culture.

Now, just halfway through the first decade of the 21st Century, communication options are almost unlimited, and most are very affordable: Postal service, Couriers, telephone (land lines, calling cards, and cellulars), email, instant messaging, chat, VIOP (voice over internet protocol; Skype and the like), video conferences, air travel, buses, cars… Without spending too much time or money an immigrant can easily preserve, on a daily basis, very close interaction with their country of origin’s people and culture.

Not only can an immigrant maintain a relationship with their family and friends back home, with all the media options now available they can nourish and preserve their culture through TV & radio (broadcast, cable, satellite, and internet), newspapers & magazines (printed and online), websites, movies, and blogs. Anywhere you turn, you can find a variety of sources presenting information and entertainment specifically directed to a given group of persons.

There is a whole industry around catering, through events, to all the different cultures and tastes in America: Festivals, concerts, plays, etc.

Because of the growing demand and the efficiency and number of transportation options, there is a humongous surge in “Nostalgia Marketing”, providing everything from ethnic food to home décor, clothing and anything else you can think of that immigrants (primarily 1st generation) are longing from their homelands.

Due to the constant influx of immigrants from all over the world and all that each of their individual cultures brings to the table, the face of America will continue its intrinsic evolution; it will keep on changing. Not that there is anything wrong with that, given that it is this very fact that has brought America to the place where it is today.

It is not more a melting pot, but a mixture of elements, all combined and living symbiotically, but each maintaining their own individuality. I contend that it brings out the best of each culture and catalyses the American Experience. Only in America can you find the best of every culture in the world.

As American as Tacos

What is more American than Apple Pie? This is one of the staples of the US society which undisputedly defines America’s true nature. Something on which everyone in the United States and around the world could likely agree upon, as strange as it may sound.

Actually, American apples as we know them today were not native to the new world; seeds were brought by early European settlers, carried along with all their prized possessions to start a new life and cook from scratch some good ol’ English Apple Pie. Yes, apple pie was enjoyed in England since the fourteenth century, being a favorite dessert during the reign of Elizabeth I.

What about other “traditional” American cuisines? In 1905 pizza was considered a “foreign food”; by 1947 the New York Times stated that “Pizza could be as popular a snack as the hamburger if Americans only knew about it.” Hot Dogs were introduced in the 1860’s; the sausages brought by European butchers of several nationalities; very likely Germans introduced the practice of eating sausages with bread, which is a long-practiced tradition in their homeland (Bratwursts are fabulous!). The ancestor of the modern hamburger arrived in American shores in the 19th Century when German immigrants brought with them a dish called Hamburg style beef.

All these foods that we now consider building blocks of American cuisine were actually introduced by immigrants at some point in the Nation’s history; each one being part of the culture and tradition of their homelands. I can foresee a time in a not too distant future, when someone will say, “It’s as American as Tacos”, when referring to something considered “native” to the country, and it will make perfect sense to everyone who’s listening.

The Latino Wave

The reasons for today’s immigration wave are not at all different to those of the past. Many immigrants are poor and want a better life for them and their families; are running away from the status quo of political/religious/racial persecution, from the endemic “classism” of their native countries; from having no feasible sources of income. Nowadays all this is happening in different parts of the world; i.e. Latin America.

When it comes to talking about the immigration phenomenon I’m not trying to cover the sun with one finger, “They’re coming to America” from every corner of the world, not only Latin America. So you ask why am I singling out the Latino community?

It is a matter of sheer numbers. With the release of the 2000 Census, and all the media hype surrounding it, you would have to live under a rock to not be aware that Hispanics are now the largest minority in the United States, and their numbers are only about to grow bigger. It is estimated that by 2050 (not too far from now), almost 25% of the entire United States Population will be comprised by Latinos.

As discussed above, the methods of communication and media options available today make it easier for immigrants and their US born offspring to maintain a link to their culture. This is especially true in the Hispanic Market. Geographic proximity, present technology, and media/entertainment options guarantee the omnipresence of the Latino culture.

Please note that I am using the term “Latino Culture” not Latin American Culture. Being Latino/Hispanic is different from being Latin American; it is the merging of what the United States has to offer with what Latin Americans bring to the table when coming to America. If the United States and Latin America where the primary colors blue and yellow, Hispanics would be the many shades of green that resulted through their blending.

This is one of the first things you have to understand. Latinos are not all one and the same. Even if they come from the same country, their socio-cultural realities can be so diametrically different that they might as well be from different planets. Now consider different countries (22, including the US, Spain and Brazil), how many years they have been living in the United States (or were they born here), and in which part of the country do they live (There is a big difference in the Hispanic community from Los Angeles compared to that of Cheyenne, WI, Trenton, NJ, Billings, MT, Charlotte, NC, or Miami). Still there are certain traits that define them all, which I’ll share with you later in the book.

Also you might have noticed that I said, “Latino Culture” not Spanish Language. Even though there are many Spanish speakers among Latinos, the language does not define the group. Some Hispanics only speak Spanish, others have different levels of bilingualism, and there is a good percentage of the Hispanic population that doesn’t speak Spanish at all. All of these are members of the Hispanic Community and you need to be aware of the fact that simply translating a document from English into Spanish is by no means an effective or persuasive way to reach Latinos with your marketing message; you need to understand the culture. You have to reach them with a well crafted message that could be pretty much indistinguishable from one directed to the general population, but taking into consideration not necessarily what Hispanics do, but what they don’t do or don’t appreciate, or consider inappropriate within their cultural framework, be it in English or Spanish.

Best of Both Worlds

In no way this means that the pillars of the American Society will be completely replaced. Instead they will be colorized by what the Hispanic culture (as well as all other cultures living side by side in this country) brings to the table. People coming to the United States, in some way or another, are searching for what America has to offer, and a pivotal part of it are its principles, values, laws, and rules; the freedom, the opportunities. New immigrants don’t want to change that, they are longing for it; it is what attracted them her in the first place. Still they don’t want to completely erase their identity either. They know that there are some customs/values/traditions they call their own that will contribute to the never-ending construction of the American society.

As with all that was brought by the first immigrant waves, that eventually became part of the mainstream, so America has to give a chance to the many hundreds of individual quirks that new members of the society are bringing along with them. Some of them will disappear through the passage of time; others will become the future pillars of this society. If we don’t give them an opportunity, how will we ever know if they were any good? Think Sushi, Falafel, Tamales, Empanadas, Tequila, Vodka, Spring Rolls, Pearl Tea…The US is a nation of newcomers; its food reflects its origins. Also think of qualities like increased warmness and the value of family (and extended family); traits of the Latino culture that make me hold my head up high.

It is imperative for America to maintain its edge, let’s not castrate progress by narrow-mindedly opposing the American evolution. Again, this country is a country of immigrants and through their contributions its how America can continue to be the great country it is, maintaining and increasing its lead in the Global Economy.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

through the looking glass...

Bento is the Japanese style of packing a lunch “to go” in a small box, unlike the b.s. brown bag your mom (and some grown ass people) stuck you with as you ran off to school back in the day. Bento is for work, for school, for field trips, for picnics, etc. Take-out lunch on crack, if you will. Bento is the Japanese way of saying "take-out" meal, but bento boxes are typically used for serving meals at home or at sit-down restaurants. If you travel through Japan, you will find many restaurants serving food in bento boxes because they often have many compartments and make it easy to store food. Many bento boxes have a lacquer surface, which leave the boxes with an attractive, glossy finish.

Of course though in Japan nothing is exactly what it seems and in a culture where everything tends to be kawaii ("cute"), Bento boxes are no exception. Here are some of the creative that I have seen in my travels to Japan and on the Internet...

a bunch of cute little animals...

Mozart, Nintendo DS and Starbucks Cup

Super Mario and the Mona Lisa

"Odd how the creative power at once brings the whole universe to order"

~Virginia Woolf

Monday, May 04, 2009

escuchela, la ciudad respirando...

No, no, no, I'm not going anywhere. But my mind has become a barren wasteland for the moment. Finals has taken the life out of me at the moment and I have been running around taking flights to see family for Mother's Day while trying to research PhD programs and look up thesis topics, make paintings and have a little thing called a personal life.  Have you ever just wanted to jump on a plane, head for a foreign country, change your name, change your identity...?!?? Well, maybe not the whole identity thing but I can dig the whole taking a pause from New York for awhile.

How can we conceptual "the city"? Do cities not exist in order to serve human needs, if so, the question of satisfactions becomes crucial. But satisfactions depend on aspirations, and aspirations depend on how a person perceives himself, his progress, and his status as compared with others. It seems likely that frustrations of desires for status, security, recognition, and self-expression contribute substantially to the hostility and violence found in contemporary cities. 
  • They’re about waiting: for the bus, for the light to change, for your order of Chinese take-out to be ready. 
  • They’re about the unavoidable physical and psychic proximity of other human beings competing for the same limited pool of resources and living space.  
  • They’re about frustration: about parking tickets, dogshit, potholes and noisy neighbors. 

There are about concrete islands of overpriced real estate, shoddy urban planning, outdated and obsolete infrastructure. I believe that cities are all about difficulty and none so much as New York City.

“City life is millions of people being lonesome together”

~Henry David Thoreau

Friday, May 01, 2009

my president's black...

100 Days later...

Obama took office Jan. 20 amid high expectations. The first black U.S. president, Barack Hussein Obama, 47, won over Americans with his youth, intellect and commitment to change the nation after the unpopular presidency of George W. Bush. Ushered into the White House on a tidal wave of emotion, hope and expectation, President Barack Obama marked his 100th day in office on April 29. So far the Obama administration has "only" tried to remake Washington, recover the economy and reshape the nation in the first 100 days. However, the situation is still serious with millions of people jobless, billions of dollars in bailouts and trillions of dollars in U.S. debt.

Encouragingly, 50 percent of the Americans now think the country is heading on the right track. He remains highly popular at home and abroad, where he has won acclaim for promising to close the Guantanamo Bay prison and end waterboarding and other harsh interrogation techniques. "Change we can Believe in" has manifested itself into much more than a campaign slogan. Guantanamo will be closing, restrictions on federal funding for stem cell research have been reversed, and troops will come home from Iraq. He uses the power of images, which made him a superstar during the presidential campaign. He gave the first televised interview of his term to al-Arabiya, an Arab news channel based in Dubai, and spoke directly to Iranian citizens via YouTube. He opened new relations with Cuba- to the delight of hardliners in Miami, no less. He also made the White House Web site interactive- with a forum entitled "Open for Questions."

He's shown outrage, as he did during the bonus scandals on Wall Street. He's tried to spread calm, as he did when he recently addressed the financial crisis. He shows thoughtfulness, equanimity, long-term thinking- former secretary of labor Robert Reich has called him "the serene center of the cyclone". For better or for worse, it is clear that the federal government as led by Barack Obama over the near four years will be radically different from that of George W. Bush. He has shown himself to be a thoughtful leader with a consistently activist philosophy, intent on exploiting a crisis to achieve progressive political ends. But how well he will accomplish ALL of his campaign goals is no more visible on April 30, 2009, than it was on February 10, 2007 in Springfield, Illinois, when he declared his intention to run for Office.

"If you're walking down the right path and you're willing to keep walking, eventually you'll make progress" 

~Barack H. Obama