miércoles, agosto 29, 2007
viernes, agosto 24, 2007
De Nuevo
I almost titled this post "Here I Go Again" in honor of the Red 7 crew, which really (as Amelia reminded me) only consisted of she and I when it came to karaoke. And "Here I go again" wasn't actually our song, it was "I want you back" and when we sang it, I think we made everyone hate that song a tad bit more than they had before. As if it's possible to truly hate that song.
But here we are, getting ready for another new class, planning another Palooooza (which might be my favorite event) if for no other reason than I get to bring my black dresses into rotation. "What to wear?" for me means "Which black dress to wear?"
Re-reading old posts, which I've done since I noticed that more and more people are reading this blog, made me feel like maybe (as I do in my own journal) I talk a lot about things that aren't happening, or that should have. I remember well talking about the "Land of Missed Opportunity" because I got a lot of "hang in there" emails as a result. The truth is that today, or maybe the last few days, a have dropped quite a few wonderful things into my lap. Since the beginning of August, I've felt a big wave of self-confidence, and people read that way more than I give them credit for. I talk about things like they are going to happen, rather than like they should.
We've (perhaps) hit a slow patch. No new projects are starting (which is really a good thing) and we're on our "low" number of volunteers for the year, which is normal during the winter. But people just seem to be enjoying themselves, the kids (some of whom are going to build snowmen at a ski resort tomorrow), and the weird, gray, Santiago life. As I made a Facebook profile last night (don't ask) I was getting unbelievably nostalgic (compounded by the fact that I am going home in two weeks) for New York. I look at the photos that I took around the city and I think that New York just seems so much more crisp and orderly somehow. And that appeals to me.
But at the same time, I solidifying all of these relationships that I was scared to death to solidify before. The thought of getting too close with people who I might only know for 6 months (or even 3...dear god) was terrifying, and I shut myself off. More and more, I'm laughing the laugh of someone who is actually connecting with those around her. So much so that yesterday, as I misheard every sentence out of a volunteers mouth (and yet insanely answered her questions), we weren't laughing because I've lived in Chile for more than a year and should know Spanish already, but because life is fun.
But here we are, getting ready for another new class, planning another Palooooza (which might be my favorite event) if for no other reason than I get to bring my black dresses into rotation. "What to wear?" for me means "Which black dress to wear?"
Re-reading old posts, which I've done since I noticed that more and more people are reading this blog, made me feel like maybe (as I do in my own journal) I talk a lot about things that aren't happening, or that should have. I remember well talking about the "Land of Missed Opportunity" because I got a lot of "hang in there" emails as a result. The truth is that today, or maybe the last few days, a have dropped quite a few wonderful things into my lap. Since the beginning of August, I've felt a big wave of self-confidence, and people read that way more than I give them credit for. I talk about things like they are going to happen, rather than like they should.
We've (perhaps) hit a slow patch. No new projects are starting (which is really a good thing) and we're on our "low" number of volunteers for the year, which is normal during the winter. But people just seem to be enjoying themselves, the kids (some of whom are going to build snowmen at a ski resort tomorrow), and the weird, gray, Santiago life. As I made a Facebook profile last night (don't ask) I was getting unbelievably nostalgic (compounded by the fact that I am going home in two weeks) for New York. I look at the photos that I took around the city and I think that New York just seems so much more crisp and orderly somehow. And that appeals to me.
But at the same time, I solidifying all of these relationships that I was scared to death to solidify before. The thought of getting too close with people who I might only know for 6 months (or even 3...dear god) was terrifying, and I shut myself off. More and more, I'm laughing the laugh of someone who is actually connecting with those around her. So much so that yesterday, as I misheard every sentence out of a volunteers mouth (and yet insanely answered her questions), we weren't laughing because I've lived in Chile for more than a year and should know Spanish already, but because life is fun.
miércoles, agosto 22, 2007
Where do I stop, where do I begin?
This has been an interesting day, and it's only 5:40pm. Office hours are 10am-6pm, but since I live in the office, the hours are now, later and even later.
An email appeared in my inbox this morning. The subject: I wrote about your blog. As I have two blogs, technically (this one and that one), and I generally have multiple gmail accounts open, I though he was talking about the VEBlog, which is a work in progress. At an admin meeting last night, I told our Formation Director that my goal was to start updating that blog daily, eventually getting comments, etc. His response was: "Lauren, en serio? Diario?.....pucha." This can be loosely translated to "sure.......ok."
This blogger, Chileno, was talking about ATGD. Woo-hoo! His words were flattering, and he seemed to get the point. However, I took a look at the other blogs he'd reviewed and I started to feel guilty. I don't blog about travel, because I have little time to travel. I don't blog particularly about poverty and my work (it's more anecdotal) because my position somewhat precludes my ability to openly discuss, negatively I suppose, the organization I work for. The founder once came upon a post I wrote last December about an event we put on. It wasn't overtly negative, but I used the phrase "not a well oiled machine." I mean, we're not, but we're getting there. It may have rubbed him the wrong way. Plainly, as I officially speak for the org in a professional sense, I can't speak for them here, however unofficially. Therefore, I haven't tried very hard to publicize this blog at all.
I started this as a way to explain to my family and friends what the hell I'm doing in Chile. I'm not in love with the place (if you read Chileno's blog, he does a fine job of explaining why I wouldn't be). Being in a place that has all the appearances of a fine, upstanding member of the global community doesn't seem to make sense, considering the conditions in which we work. Having a higher literacy rate, or per capita GNI doesn't mean that the children I work with can read, nor does it make them any less poor.
More than that, I don't want to beat people over the head with poverty, and how a small group of volunteers in Santiago think that they can change the world. I'd like for people to see how fulfilling and frustrating it can be to try to get people to work together, exist within an imperfect social service system, not speak the language perfectly, and try to help a new non-profit grow. (For the record, I didn't start it...I arrived on the scene two years in)
I just found out that a grant that we applied for (painstakingly, in three stages) did not ultimately get funding. We submitted it as a long shot, but with every step forward (we were one of 30 finalists out of 545 applicants) we got more and more hopeful. This would have been our first major source of funding in Chile, and the reading program that we designed was, and is, very personal to me. Books are unbearably expensive here, and the school where I volunteer doesn't have any. I read to the kids once a week, and that it possibly the only time that they come into contact with books at all. There is simply no access. I wish I knew how they measure that magical 99% youth literacy statistic.
We created something replicable, that brings families into the mix and that focuses on pre-readers. We read the needs of the kids, how they like to get up out of there seats and put things on the blackboard, and how they like to point out every strange picture in the book as I'm reading aloud, as we mapped out what kids of things we'd do with them each week. We talked to the tias about what they needed to get out of the whole thing.
So this was a blow. I went to school to tell the director and she wasn't there. I practiced what I would say in Spanish, and how I would explain that I was going to focus on U.S. funding sources next. It makes me uncomfortable to tell her that, because of the pre/misconception that all of our volunteers are independently wealthy and can fix all problems with American money.
Of course, if I went into a depression every time I didn't win a grant, I wouldn't have made it through 2004-2006. So we move on. To the next foundation, the next group of volunteers. Our tour is moving along, so we could just make enough money to do the program outright. How great would that be?
An email appeared in my inbox this morning. The subject: I wrote about your blog. As I have two blogs, technically (this one and that one), and I generally have multiple gmail accounts open, I though he was talking about the VEBlog, which is a work in progress. At an admin meeting last night, I told our Formation Director that my goal was to start updating that blog daily, eventually getting comments, etc. His response was: "Lauren, en serio? Diario?.....pucha." This can be loosely translated to "sure.......ok."
This blogger, Chileno, was talking about ATGD. Woo-hoo! His words were flattering, and he seemed to get the point. However, I took a look at the other blogs he'd reviewed and I started to feel guilty. I don't blog about travel, because I have little time to travel. I don't blog particularly about poverty and my work (it's more anecdotal) because my position somewhat precludes my ability to openly discuss, negatively I suppose, the organization I work for. The founder once came upon a post I wrote last December about an event we put on. It wasn't overtly negative, but I used the phrase "not a well oiled machine." I mean, we're not, but we're getting there. It may have rubbed him the wrong way. Plainly, as I officially speak for the org in a professional sense, I can't speak for them here, however unofficially. Therefore, I haven't tried very hard to publicize this blog at all.
I started this as a way to explain to my family and friends what the hell I'm doing in Chile. I'm not in love with the place (if you read Chileno's blog, he does a fine job of explaining why I wouldn't be). Being in a place that has all the appearances of a fine, upstanding member of the global community doesn't seem to make sense, considering the conditions in which we work. Having a higher literacy rate, or per capita GNI doesn't mean that the children I work with can read, nor does it make them any less poor.
More than that, I don't want to beat people over the head with poverty, and how a small group of volunteers in Santiago think that they can change the world. I'd like for people to see how fulfilling and frustrating it can be to try to get people to work together, exist within an imperfect social service system, not speak the language perfectly, and try to help a new non-profit grow. (For the record, I didn't start it...I arrived on the scene two years in)
I just found out that a grant that we applied for (painstakingly, in three stages) did not ultimately get funding. We submitted it as a long shot, but with every step forward (we were one of 30 finalists out of 545 applicants) we got more and more hopeful. This would have been our first major source of funding in Chile, and the reading program that we designed was, and is, very personal to me. Books are unbearably expensive here, and the school where I volunteer doesn't have any. I read to the kids once a week, and that it possibly the only time that they come into contact with books at all. There is simply no access. I wish I knew how they measure that magical 99% youth literacy statistic.
We created something replicable, that brings families into the mix and that focuses on pre-readers. We read the needs of the kids, how they like to get up out of there seats and put things on the blackboard, and how they like to point out every strange picture in the book as I'm reading aloud, as we mapped out what kids of things we'd do with them each week. We talked to the tias about what they needed to get out of the whole thing.
So this was a blow. I went to school to tell the director and she wasn't there. I practiced what I would say in Spanish, and how I would explain that I was going to focus on U.S. funding sources next. It makes me uncomfortable to tell her that, because of the pre/misconception that all of our volunteers are independently wealthy and can fix all problems with American money.
Of course, if I went into a depression every time I didn't win a grant, I wouldn't have made it through 2004-2006. So we move on. To the next foundation, the next group of volunteers. Our tour is moving along, so we could just make enough money to do the program outright. How great would that be?
lunes, agosto 20, 2007
domingo, agosto 19, 2007
"Poor Kids"
The latest issue of the newsletter went out today. It was the tenth issue, and it's been a year since I started it at all. It has come so far. The current editor put together a fantastic piece about inequality and how it relates to children's rights and our work. You can find the newsletter here, if you're interested. The fact that it exists at all is a major accomplishment, and I'm very proud.
Getting wrapped up in trying to learn a CMS or a CRM can sometimes prevent me from visiting my kids. My pride and joy of a reading program has faltered thanks to days and nights spend planning "the tour", helping out with decision-making within the org and just doing my job. I'm usually a very "behind the scenes" kind of person, but recently I've become much more active in the day-to-day, and less obsessed with the future and growth.
Which is why, when Liz told me we were taking kids to the movies, I jumped at the chance. The jardin is one of my favorite places. The kids are anything but standoffish, and desperately want to know you and play with you and talk to you the minute you walk in the door. Taking them to see Ratatouille, on the micro no less, sounded like the best thing one could do on a Wednesday morning.
I had no idea.
These kids are hilarious. We walked down the street, everyone holding hands and singing "Vamos al paseo beep beep beep, en un auto feo beep beep beep." There are more words than that, but since Tia Lauren couldn't remember them, we just sang those over and over again. I never realized just how high up those micro stairs are, but trying to get 12 four year olds into a bus with any speed is next to impossible, unless you have the help of every Chilean man on the bus, who can't resist the urge to help a gringa in distress.
I knew the movies would be a big deal. A multi-plex, bright, colorful and full of noises and sounds, is overwhelming for anyone. For a child going to the movies for the first time, it was...an assault on the senses. The lifesized cardboard cutouts served as hiding places and new friends. The blue and red carpet seemed like a perfect place to take a nap after a lively round of "arroz con leche".
But nothing could compare to Michael Jackson. As Liz negotiated the box office lines, where the only tickets left were for Shrek 3, the kids caught a glimpse of a TV monitor playing the Thriller video. They were equal parts enthralled and appalled by what they saw, and the volunteers were too busy grinning stupidly at how happy the kids were to notice that they thought it was the movie. After MJ's 10 minute masterpiece ended, the kids grabbed our hands and were ready to head home.
I've told this story many times, sometimes in an effort to explain what it is that I do, and why I do it. Other times just to make people smile. Most people get that, but occasionally I tell someone and they say to me "That must make you feel so good. To give something to the poor kids."
Like a punch to the gut.
Poverty is part of my daily life, but not in a way that makes me feel like my taking children to the movies is somehow going to save them. These kids may be from the campamento, but they're kids just like any other kids. I remember my first trip to the movies: excitement, fear, confusion, Snow White. Their fascination with zombie videos had little to do with money, and everything to do with youth. The most important thing that I can tell anyone is that children need attention and love, and that's what our volunteers provide. Not ipods or an expensive pair of shoes, but a first experience. Like meeting a famous futbolista. Or having a proud face in the crowd when they win an award at school. Rich kids need that as much as the poor. We all do.
Getting wrapped up in trying to learn a CMS or a CRM can sometimes prevent me from visiting my kids. My pride and joy of a reading program has faltered thanks to days and nights spend planning "the tour", helping out with decision-making within the org and just doing my job. I'm usually a very "behind the scenes" kind of person, but recently I've become much more active in the day-to-day, and less obsessed with the future and growth.
Which is why, when Liz told me we were taking kids to the movies, I jumped at the chance. The jardin is one of my favorite places. The kids are anything but standoffish, and desperately want to know you and play with you and talk to you the minute you walk in the door. Taking them to see Ratatouille, on the micro no less, sounded like the best thing one could do on a Wednesday morning.
I had no idea.
These kids are hilarious. We walked down the street, everyone holding hands and singing "Vamos al paseo beep beep beep, en un auto feo beep beep beep." There are more words than that, but since Tia Lauren couldn't remember them, we just sang those over and over again. I never realized just how high up those micro stairs are, but trying to get 12 four year olds into a bus with any speed is next to impossible, unless you have the help of every Chilean man on the bus, who can't resist the urge to help a gringa in distress.
I knew the movies would be a big deal. A multi-plex, bright, colorful and full of noises and sounds, is overwhelming for anyone. For a child going to the movies for the first time, it was...an assault on the senses. The lifesized cardboard cutouts served as hiding places and new friends. The blue and red carpet seemed like a perfect place to take a nap after a lively round of "arroz con leche".
But nothing could compare to Michael Jackson. As Liz negotiated the box office lines, where the only tickets left were for Shrek 3, the kids caught a glimpse of a TV monitor playing the Thriller video. They were equal parts enthralled and appalled by what they saw, and the volunteers were too busy grinning stupidly at how happy the kids were to notice that they thought it was the movie. After MJ's 10 minute masterpiece ended, the kids grabbed our hands and were ready to head home.
I've told this story many times, sometimes in an effort to explain what it is that I do, and why I do it. Other times just to make people smile. Most people get that, but occasionally I tell someone and they say to me "That must make you feel so good. To give something to the poor kids."
Like a punch to the gut.
Poverty is part of my daily life, but not in a way that makes me feel like my taking children to the movies is somehow going to save them. These kids may be from the campamento, but they're kids just like any other kids. I remember my first trip to the movies: excitement, fear, confusion, Snow White. Their fascination with zombie videos had little to do with money, and everything to do with youth. The most important thing that I can tell anyone is that children need attention and love, and that's what our volunteers provide. Not ipods or an expensive pair of shoes, but a first experience. Like meeting a famous futbolista. Or having a proud face in the crowd when they win an award at school. Rich kids need that as much as the poor. We all do.
miércoles, agosto 15, 2007
Best Week Ever!
While at YAI, I became something of a Dlisted girl. Michael K is nothing short of hilarious, and I enjoy my celebrity gossip mixed with a little bit more snark than some other bloggers go for. I had forgotten, in the land where I only watch La Ley y El Order:UVE on television, all about VH1 and their obsession with forced nostalgia. However, the blog for Best Week Ever, is awesome, especially their obsession with John Mayer - not the oh-my-god-he's-hot-he-dated-Jessica-Simpson-his-music-will-save-us-all John Mayer, but the one who is actually really funny, and who had a one episode television show a couple of years ago that fell off the face of the earth, and which my friend Victoria told me existed and I didn't believe her. Ok, Victoria. You win. I know he had a tv show.
He also hung out with Dave Chappelle for a little comic gold:
It's only Wednesday, yet this week feels long already..in an inexplicably good way. As Liz and I were riding home in our colectivo yesterday after a staff meeting, we just kept turning and saying to each other "that was a really good meeting." I'll be honest: I never say that about our meetings. They take place at 7:30pm every other Tuesday, sometimes lasting until 10pm (as this one did). While they are a chance for people to see each other (there are some volunteers who work and live in places where I never see them, so unless we're in the same social circle face time is limited. There is generally so much to say about everything - announcements, assignments for futbol league, a talk about receipts - that meetings can drag. And if a meeting drags, the volunteers are sad. Because it's a Tuesday.
But right now, there is some kind of onda (mood...that's a loose translation) within the org, and it was definitely present last night. We had a group discussion about conflict management, and people were raising hands and falling out of their seats to participate, in English or Spanish. The group is small right now, but dedicated. There are problems, but we're talking about them.
The reason for this ambiance of happy: la cara fea. See for yourself.
He also hung out with Dave Chappelle for a little comic gold:
It's only Wednesday, yet this week feels long already..in an inexplicably good way. As Liz and I were riding home in our colectivo yesterday after a staff meeting, we just kept turning and saying to each other "that was a really good meeting." I'll be honest: I never say that about our meetings. They take place at 7:30pm every other Tuesday, sometimes lasting until 10pm (as this one did). While they are a chance for people to see each other (there are some volunteers who work and live in places where I never see them, so unless we're in the same social circle face time is limited. There is generally so much to say about everything - announcements, assignments for futbol league, a talk about receipts - that meetings can drag. And if a meeting drags, the volunteers are sad. Because it's a Tuesday.
But right now, there is some kind of onda (mood...that's a loose translation) within the org, and it was definitely present last night. We had a group discussion about conflict management, and people were raising hands and falling out of their seats to participate, in English or Spanish. The group is small right now, but dedicated. There are problems, but we're talking about them.
The reason for this ambiance of happy: la cara fea. See for yourself.
viernes, agosto 10, 2007
Razzle Dazzle
Save the date!
VE is invading NYC on 19th September for an art exhibition/fundraiser on the Lower East Side. There will be no charge to get in, and we'll have photos taken by children through our OJOSnuevos program.
This will all take place at GalleryBar (www.gallerybarnyc.com). More details to follow.
VE is invading NYC on 19th September for an art exhibition/fundraiser on the Lower East Side. There will be no charge to get in, and we'll have photos taken by children through our OJOSnuevos program.
This will all take place at GalleryBar (www.gallerybarnyc.com). More details to follow.
lunes, agosto 06, 2007
Chauito no mas, po
In Chile, unexpectedly, no one says 'adios'. In fact, the only time I've ever heard someone say adios to me in this country was the pilot of my plane going to Argentina. I then felt like maybe in Argentina they said 'adios". Nope. They say 'chau' as well.
'Chau no mas' is what you say to someone when you want to end a conversation, or you're being a dick. Like, you wouldn't say "Chau, no mas" to your mom, because it means everything from "ok, bye" to "go fuck yourself". "Chauito no mas, po" is possibly one of the most chileno things you could ever say...but if you say it to a stranger, you might have to have a large bouncer at a salsa club come to your defense.
It is the latter that I have decided to say to my Wilco blog. While it was fun to write about something other than 1) myself 2) my organization, it is way too much work to keep up with for way too little money. However, maybe I'll continue to post music-related news on this blog, just to put some pressure on to update more regularly. Hmmm...so many possibilities.
For example, check out this blog to hear a whole bunch of pre YHF recordings featuring Jeff Tweedy and the publicly-ousted Jay Bennet. If you saw "I am trying to break your heart" (and seriously, why haven't you seen it?) you might be on the fence about who was the bigger dick in the moments before the band moved forward sans-Jay. Use these recordings to remind yourself that they're both incredibly talented, and that it's hard for boys to get along all the time.
'Chau no mas' is what you say to someone when you want to end a conversation, or you're being a dick. Like, you wouldn't say "Chau, no mas" to your mom, because it means everything from "ok, bye" to "go fuck yourself". "Chauito no mas, po" is possibly one of the most chileno things you could ever say...but if you say it to a stranger, you might have to have a large bouncer at a salsa club come to your defense.
It is the latter that I have decided to say to my Wilco blog. While it was fun to write about something other than 1) myself 2) my organization, it is way too much work to keep up with for way too little money. However, maybe I'll continue to post music-related news on this blog, just to put some pressure on to update more regularly. Hmmm...so many possibilities.
For example, check out this blog to hear a whole bunch of pre YHF recordings featuring Jeff Tweedy and the publicly-ousted Jay Bennet. If you saw "I am trying to break your heart" (and seriously, why haven't you seen it?) you might be on the fence about who was the bigger dick in the moments before the band moved forward sans-Jay. Use these recordings to remind yourself that they're both incredibly talented, and that it's hard for boys to get along all the time.
viernes, agosto 03, 2007
The Genius of the Panty
Chile is not big on central heating. I feel bad saying this, as my apartment/office is one of the warmest I've encountered in Santiago, due to some sort of weird water pipe that runs under the floor. When we were cat sitting, we'd find her curled up in the most random places: the floor next to the refridgerator, the middle of Liz's bedroom, etc. Yep, she found all of our place's hotspots.
Today, it is zero degrees. Our office, which is located in the back of the apartment, with two big walls of windows, is freezing. The kind of freezing that makes it impossible to work. However, if I were to move to say, the living room (which I imagine to be nice and toasty) I'd be dealing with 1) people 2) La Ley y El Orden: U.V.E. For those of you who thought that it was only the U.S.'s TNT that was obsessed with Chris Meloni and Mariska Hargitay's child molester-busting, think again.
But I have something else that is somewhat unique to Chile: the panty! In this wonderful country, panty means pantyhose. And they make all kinds of clothing out of this fantastic nylon material: leggings, shorts, tank tops, mock and cowl neck sparkly tops. All designed to go under your clothing, providing a protective barrier against the biting cold of cement housing.
We could all use more panty in our lives! Everyone gets cold! Write to your congressman!
Oh, and read this: http://www.bestweekever.tv/2007/08/02/introducing-juan-mayer/#comments
Today, it is zero degrees. Our office, which is located in the back of the apartment, with two big walls of windows, is freezing. The kind of freezing that makes it impossible to work. However, if I were to move to say, the living room (which I imagine to be nice and toasty) I'd be dealing with 1) people 2) La Ley y El Orden: U.V.E. For those of you who thought that it was only the U.S.'s TNT that was obsessed with Chris Meloni and Mariska Hargitay's child molester-busting, think again.
But I have something else that is somewhat unique to Chile: the panty! In this wonderful country, panty means pantyhose. And they make all kinds of clothing out of this fantastic nylon material: leggings, shorts, tank tops, mock and cowl neck sparkly tops. All designed to go under your clothing, providing a protective barrier against the biting cold of cement housing.
We could all use more panty in our lives! Everyone gets cold! Write to your congressman!
Oh, and read this: http://www.bestweekever.tv/2007/08/02/introducing-juan-mayer/#comments
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