tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50073772424916611772024-03-13T04:02:31.015-07:00The Rough DraftSomeone suggested I write this down.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-85737490331441783102012-05-17T14:32:00.001-07:002012-05-17T14:35:15.373-07:00The Rough Draft goes to SE AsiaHey Friends!
The Rough Draft will be on hiatus this summer. Please check out my blog that I will update with photos and stories from my journey this summer in Cambodia, Sri Lanka and Thailand, "The Leader in the Back". You can follow this link to easily access my blog:
patriciaflanagan.com
Have a great summer!
Trish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gWOsBuBRIYU/T7VuaystaaI/AAAAAAAAGRs/RZGWdC-fQS0/s1600/luchadora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gWOsBuBRIYU/T7VuaystaaI/AAAAAAAAGRs/RZGWdC-fQS0/s400/luchadora.jpg" /></a></div>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-68404700961065874962012-05-17T14:22:00.000-07:002012-05-17T14:24:09.436-07:00March for the Safety and Rights of Women<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJSVKwdFI/AAAAAAAAFy4/RcM9HwzTmBg/s1600/CIMG0186.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 339px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJSVKwdFI/AAAAAAAAFy4/RcM9HwzTmBg/s400/CIMG0186.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545489464189547602" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJR2HqbMI/AAAAAAAAFyw/C0M17xtXS0k/s1600/CIMG0183.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJR2HqbMI/AAAAAAAAFyw/C0M17xtXS0k/s400/CIMG0183.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545489455855070402" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJRg9ze0I/AAAAAAAAFyo/_9c-BwpTAEQ/s1600/CIMG0180.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 334px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJRg9ze0I/AAAAAAAAFyo/_9c-BwpTAEQ/s400/CIMG0180.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545489450176576322" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJRRD8jWI/AAAAAAAAFyg/cdPach6iK7Q/s1600/CIMG0175.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWJRRD8jWI/AAAAAAAAFyg/cdPach6iK7Q/s400/CIMG0175.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545489445907369314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWI4ode-MI/AAAAAAAAFyY/E41jfI7BwNA/s1600/CIMG0158.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWI4ode-MI/AAAAAAAAFyY/E41jfI7BwNA/s400/CIMG0158.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545489022691768514" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWI3xxVmBI/AAAAAAAAFyQ/jnovWkpRAXA/s1600/CIMG0157.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWI3xxVmBI/AAAAAAAAFyQ/jnovWkpRAXA/s400/CIMG0157.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545489008011089938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIz5evFNI/AAAAAAAAFyI/eyU87vvs8A0/s1600/CIMG0148.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 289px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIz5evFNI/AAAAAAAAFyI/eyU87vvs8A0/s400/CIMG0148.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488941361075410" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIzS8dMBI/AAAAAAAAFyA/cdjdxhc1o4E/s1600/CIMG0140.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 237px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIzS8dMBI/AAAAAAAAFyA/cdjdxhc1o4E/s400/CIMG0140.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488931016749074" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIzLIiySI/AAAAAAAAFx4/4p9JYFs0lpI/s1600/CIMG0127.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIzLIiySI/AAAAAAAAFx4/4p9JYFs0lpI/s400/CIMG0127.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488928919963938" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIVOf8AJI/AAAAAAAAFxw/hzlpwToiVNM/s1600/CIMG0108.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIVOf8AJI/AAAAAAAAFxw/hzlpwToiVNM/s400/CIMG0108.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488414427316370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIU1JtiMI/AAAAAAAAFxo/SYvEe_o5plg/s1600/CIMG0104.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIU1JtiMI/AAAAAAAAFxo/SYvEe_o5plg/s400/CIMG0104.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488407623207106" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIUtPaDaI/AAAAAAAAFxg/0wZNMeaJms8/s1600/CIMG0098.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIUtPaDaI/AAAAAAAAFxg/0wZNMeaJms8/s400/CIMG0098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488405499612578" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIUR7jfUI/AAAAAAAAFxY/KAackRl3wYQ/s1600/CIMG0092.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIUR7jfUI/AAAAAAAAFxY/KAackRl3wYQ/s400/CIMG0092.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488398168587586" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIUMn-nNI/AAAAAAAAFxQ/QzdJ9202t00/s1600/CIMG0105.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPWIUMn-nNI/AAAAAAAAFxQ/QzdJ9202t00/s400/CIMG0105.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545488396744301778" /></a><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2RjdVzOI/AAAAAAAAFww/_y5ANqzKq_4/s1600/CIMG0077.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2RjdVzOI/AAAAAAAAFww/_y5ANqzKq_4/s400/CIMG0077.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2R8y3-jI/AAAAAAAAFw4/Ufh7UdU6zvY/s1600/CIMG0078.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2R8y3-jI/AAAAAAAAFw4/Ufh7UdU6zvY/s400/CIMG0078.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2Sd8bDGI/AAAAAAAAFxA/SPI8bQkWLcI/s1600/CIMG0084.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2Sd8bDGI/AAAAAAAAFxA/SPI8bQkWLcI/s400/CIMG0084.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2SuHVhAI/AAAAAAAAFxI/v0coJLDmDGQ/s1600/CIMG0088.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPV2SuHVhAI/AAAAAAAAFxI/v0coJLDmDGQ/s400/CIMG0088.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br />I had the great honor of learning more about the powerful and courageous people that call Honduras home. These photos were taken at the Manifestacion para los Derechos de las Mujeres last week on November 25. This was a march to call for the end of near total impunity of crimes of domestic violence and the murders of women.<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-89955325371650105652011-08-12T19:04:00.001-07:002011-08-12T19:06:31.570-07:00Never too late to quit<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z96QGCbFAyg/TkXcHhGyRbI/AAAAAAAAGOY/AmEDnOtOWs8/s1600/CIMG0092.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z96QGCbFAyg/TkXcHhGyRbI/AAAAAAAAGOY/AmEDnOtOWs8/s400/CIMG0092.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5640156130055439794" /></a>
<br />On the eve of the first week of my public service masters program, I can’t help but be near the point of nausea as I listen to the never-ending drone of bought-and-paid-for political candidates and their asinine supporters as they fill the sound waves of my beloved country with self-centered, money-mongering decrees insisting that the way to bring our country out of our dysfunction is by continuing to ease taxes and fill the coffers of big money corporations and various government agencies that are controlled and manipulated by these corrupt firms thereby bringing “the power back to the people”. I know that to be an informed citizen, I should listen to and thereby respect this entitled, ignorant and greed- filled perspective of many of my country(wo)men. Yet, it is my patriotism and sense of opportunity which I have come to know well as a privileged American citizen that deeply regrets and repudiates such short-sighted, entitled and disgusting attempts at preserving the spoiled standard of living that is unfathomable by the majority of our fellow human beings worldwide with whom we are obligated to share resources and virtue. One day the lights of our materiality may be shut off and our credit cards no longer functional. Will this be what forces those of us who are unwilling to look around and inward to quit sucking our selfish thumbs? Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-5106339238954845302011-07-27T01:00:00.001-07:002011-07-27T01:01:54.597-07:00Summer Reading<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8PJtj-OK5bk/Ti_F3BFm4vI/AAAAAAAAGDM/rUFnRS9ksvM/s1600/CIMG1704-1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8PJtj-OK5bk/Ti_F3BFm4vI/AAAAAAAAGDM/rUFnRS9ksvM/s400/CIMG1704-1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633939207839212274" /></a><br />Although I should be spending my free time preparing for classes this fall by reading books like The Public and Its Problems, by John Dewey, my heart is enlivened with the quest to understand a few other things, central to my personal life. In the past months upon my return to the United States, I have met a few men who seem to be excited to have met me and plead that they want to see me again in the future, the excited feeling being mutual. But in all of the few cases where this has happened, the man seems to fade into non-existence with dispassionate text messages or nothing altogether. I then implore my guy friends to help me understand how a man can lead me to believe, for hours in a night, that we have a chemistry and that this guy is truly inspired to court me, as I just might have been the “smartest and sexiest woman [ they’ve] ever met”, only to completely abandon this notion and turn into a schmuck, by impersonating an overgrown, naïve school boy. Most tell me that the cu de grace is that the guy may only have wanted to know you in the “now”, like tonight, if you know what I am saying! <br /><br />I say this with the most earnest attempt at understanding and compassion, but come on Fellas, how can a simple one-night-stand with someone impressive and cognizant fulfill your desires? I would say you need to expand your horizons as you, my friend, are a victim of low, low expectations, for there is oh so much more she has for you. But that is okay, our friends will reassure us that, though you seemed to be the real deal, you actually did us a favor in never calling or even lamely “friending” us on facebook. It means as much also to say that I never believe it when someone says that men are pigs, expressed by this case in point, where one might hypothesize that this “chemistry” lasts only so long as I go along with the one-night-stand plan. I mean not to demoralize the entire stratum of men, in the romantic, courtship context, as my few, cherished boyfriends past are the utmost in what it means to be a gentleman and a man. So I shall take a break from these love affairs in Neverland and go back to my summer reading list.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-60077199699725756342011-01-22T20:42:00.001-08:002011-01-22T20:46:45.836-08:003 Cigarettes in an Ashtray<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TTuyH2xKYKI/AAAAAAAAF2I/kkb3T6G2MOo/s1600/CIMG9218.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TTuyH2xKYKI/AAAAAAAAF2I/kkb3T6G2MOo/s400/CIMG9218.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565237612576923810" /></a><br />Patsy Cline’s, Three cigarettes in an ashtray, is playing on my way home from The Hill. I laughed out loud to myself as this song began to play, thinking of how sobby and gritty her songs are and how sad and excitedly she sings them. I am back in St.Louis, it is a new-old town for me. I raced other joggers today in Forest Park, amazed that the trail was cleared in our snowy winter. Later getting a pint, or two, with a dear childhood friend, I felt the peace that always sweeps over me driving into the heart of a city with the cityscape reminding us that we are home, safe. The brick city houses, full of windows, with steep, short front yards are like my family, they have been there since my beginning and promise to offer comfort and protection as I, like the city, grow and change. <br />Yet no longer are we kids. We act like grown-ups, knowing when we should go home and looking forward to a fresh, productive morning. Many friends are moving out of my memory dream of my life as a St.Louisan, with kids, mortgages, bedtimes, yet this city comforts me, even as I drive Frida, my trusty, funky, metal companion, down a quiet Clayton Rd, knowing how to get anywhere by heading North, South, East, West.<br />I am in my nest, a big, beautiful brick home behind Tilles Park, welcomed by the people who knew me when I learned how to navigate ice-covered turnpikes and realized just how important it is to stay in touch. I hear Saturday Night Live is on in the living room downstairs, I am home.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-39753365004958172302011-01-15T02:47:00.001-08:002011-01-15T02:55:10.577-08:00Can I ask you a question?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TTF9BVFRzII/AAAAAAAAF10/Ki7Kq5zapAs/s1600/CIMG0634.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TTF9BVFRzII/AAAAAAAAF10/Ki7Kq5zapAs/s400/CIMG0634.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5562364476571896962" /></a><br /><br /><br />I lost my earring at the end of this night. They wanted us to leave so quickly, after I just pulled up a seat. His name is John and I was growing enamored. My friend was his teacher, but I sassed him asking why he made a face. That was the start of it all. He told me people always acknowledge him from above like they know him. It was true, it happened all night. Sitting there with him, he was a celebrity, Mr. Popular. Though I learned his name was John from all the people calling out to him as they passed, I don’t think he ever knew my name, really. The teasing kept us taught, intrigued, engaged, alive. I followed him to the bar outside for another round. He reassured me as I tried to decipher the path of least resistance to the bar and waited for a clearing. There, leaning over, finally feeling in his space. When we sat back down, I ventured to the next level, “Can I ask you a question?”, “Yes, I dove into a pool my senior year of high school and hit the bottom.” I wanted to find out so much more, to delve into this source of strength, to absorb wisdom and grace. I asked him how tall he was, 6’1 in real life he told me. When my friends told me it was time to go, I kissed his cheek, knowing I was in the presence of someone great. When I asked him what he was going to do, now he had finished with college, he replied, keep being awesome. <br /> A few blocks down the street, I turned back to find my missing earring. When I returned through the back door, he had it in his lap. I leaned down and kissed him and he told me he thought it was destiny, safe in his presence, owning his life and immeasurable in his effect.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-27636615813956786582010-11-30T13:20:00.000-08:002010-11-30T13:50:40.754-08:00Marbles under the lamp light<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVxOKA0R2I/AAAAAAAAFwo/7HXv2B6zCG8/s1600/DSCN2414.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVxOKA0R2I/AAAAAAAAFwo/7HXv2B6zCG8/s400/DSCN2414.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545463004196521826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVxN6dnf9I/AAAAAAAAFwg/BfQro6sZuUs/s1600/DSCN2390.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVxN6dnf9I/AAAAAAAAFwg/BfQro6sZuUs/s400/DSCN2390.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545463000022351826" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVxNnOQrUI/AAAAAAAAFwY/krQ8CJFUaQ0/s1600/DSCN2380.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVxNnOQrUI/AAAAAAAAFwY/krQ8CJFUaQ0/s400/DSCN2380.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545462994857667906" /></a><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVq_UZFtOI/AAAAAAAAFvQ/6KM9pY61FOU/s1600/DSCN2364.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVq_UZFtOI/AAAAAAAAFvQ/6KM9pY61FOU/s400/DSCN2364.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVq_vPQkzI/AAAAAAAAFvY/Ez80TB_rYyM/s1600/DSCN2365.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVq_vPQkzI/AAAAAAAAFvY/Ez80TB_rYyM/s400/DSCN2365.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVq_jl1EFI/AAAAAAAAFvg/JE_nrDmMvGQ/s1600/DSCN2368.JPG'><img src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVq_jl1EFI/AAAAAAAAFvg/JE_nrDmMvGQ/s400/DSCN2368.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVrEGjJCnI/AAAAAAAAFvo/lx7OzfvvVm0/s1600/DSCN2374.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TPVrEGjJCnI/AAAAAAAAFvo/lx7OzfvvVm0/s400/DSCN2374.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><br />In times of apprehension, sometimes we wonder who is there watching out for us. It is our greatest fear to be left alone, left without our community, our love rejected. It is during these times that the kids fill my soul. Anticipating a dark and muddy walk home to my apartment, that night, I was met by my angels. They would laugh if you told them they were my knights under the shining street lamp. When the kids are there, the night is friendly and safe. Thank you to my Sandy Bay Marble Knights.<div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-1761333496655822182010-11-18T06:33:00.000-08:002010-11-18T06:45:54.583-08:00Koby & Mauri<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TOU7CnCm7nI/AAAAAAAAFvI/ZzPx5TXEWng/s1600/DSCN2266.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TOU7CnCm7nI/AAAAAAAAFvI/ZzPx5TXEWng/s400/DSCN2266.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540899832574963314" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-70210485681449077232010-10-27T08:55:00.001-07:002010-10-27T09:17:35.692-07:00Forgotten Sweethearts<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TMhNhuOsE-I/AAAAAAAAFvA/nHeFGlj-4-E/s1600/DSCN2211.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TMhNhuOsE-I/AAAAAAAAFvA/nHeFGlj-4-E/s400/DSCN2211.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5532757383965316066" /></a><br />He is straight out of the teaching textbook. He looks around the room, always, until I ask him by name to look at me while I address the class. We read a book together in the mornings before school starts. He is willing to listen and fumble with the words that are so new to him. Born on Roatán Island, he is fluent in spoken English, but struggles to read and write in his native tongue. I love this kid. He is rock solid character. At times he looks so defeated sitting there in his classroom, surrounded by much younger and far more literate classmates. When he is serious he looks sad, this must be why he is the clown. He speaks with a deep, froglike voice, already becoming a man.<br /><br />Exasperated, he tries hard to read the context clues. Although every other word is frightfully foreign and demanding, he garners much success. He gets right to work, calling me over, asking me how to spell this or that. He is writing about his mom in a 3-paragraph, basic composition assignment for his 4th grade English class. Leo’s mastery of wit or conversation and charm do him little good as he attempts to write his paragraphs. Some say he is dyslexic. Or his mind has been forgotten by the society that gave birth to him. He is at a loss to define any sort of details about his mom’s childhood beyond the city where she was born. He says that, although he lives with her, he knows little about her life. It is difficult to know if the communication breakdown is between Leo and his mom or his thoughts and his written word.<br /><br />Like Leo, Tania often finds herself bound by her life circumstances, making obscure any vision of potential intellectual triumphs. In class, she becomes a stone with eyelashes wet as I, yet another in a long list of disappointed adults, insist that she can do a massive amount of advanced math problems, an impossibility. She doesn’t even know how to protest this colossal assignment, so she bows her face and goes somewhere in her mind to find enough pride in herself to sit there, still.<br /><br />They have so many lessons to teach us, the charming, witty sweethearts forgotten in a system that draws the line every day of their lives. School, for kids left behind, is some form of cruel punishment. It is here that they are exposed. These kids who show up day after day, they are soldiers. They risk mockery and shame, confusion and blame.<br /><br />The world does not tenderly consider the gap in which these students must trounce. They grow, they are willing. They tire and test. There is a resting place for these warriors. There is no need to fail. We are there, we are here. The opportunities abound, if we help them to see. Easy for me to say, the examples of academic and social challenge and triumph were countless in my youth. Each way I turned, there was success. There might have been failures, but with those came character growth. We laud our forgotten sweethearts, lacking the societal safety nets many take for granted, as they scale the tightrope of learning.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-45935493968582883352010-10-07T14:26:00.000-07:002010-10-07T14:42:02.430-07:00A Note to the Third World Goddess<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TK4-LGG4W2I/AAAAAAAAFu0/dYyzWZh-QoM/s1600/CIMG8871.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TK4-LGG4W2I/AAAAAAAAFu0/dYyzWZh-QoM/s400/CIMG8871.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525422153169132386" /></a><br />She is a fiery, sharp-witted pirate. <br />She got here be way of the Do Gooder Train. <br />With belly full of Punta Gorda's mashed plantain, her mind wanders west. <br />She hunkered down and now after the years of life here, there are no surprises. <br />She has lent her compassion and realistic humor to our communities as we work towards solutions. <br />She has earned the respect of an island. She does what she says as we all watch through the slats in the unpainted, picket fences.<br />With friends in many places, hers is the world.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-88126968631687350762010-09-03T18:42:00.000-07:002010-09-03T18:44:37.724-07:00Prayers of peace for all those born into lives with burdens too great to be anything less than ethereal creatures.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TIGkXfpAjlI/AAAAAAAAFqA/006Qxsq7tjI/s1600/black+and+white.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 265px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TIGkXfpAjlI/AAAAAAAAFqA/006Qxsq7tjI/s400/black+and+white.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512868142415646290" /></a><br />Prayers of peace for all those born into lives with burdens too great to be anything less than ethereal creatures.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-85037899519988267492010-09-02T12:24:00.000-07:002010-09-02T12:37:27.385-07:002 Legit to 'Zarks<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TH_6Uqo4peI/AAAAAAAAFp4/X29akXbcUmA/s1600/CIMG9098.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TH_6Uqo4peI/AAAAAAAAFp4/X29akXbcUmA/s400/CIMG9098.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5512399701874877922" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-27690403997687657302010-08-07T20:13:00.000-07:002010-08-07T20:13:39.653-07:00Defying tradition in Syria to serve as a full-time surrogate mother - CSMonitor.com<a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/World/Middle-East/2010/0802/Defying-tradition-in-Syria-to-serve-as-a-full-time-surrogate-mother?sms_ss=blogger">Defying tradition in Syria to serve as a full-time surrogate mother - CSMonitor.com</a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-88384885294668461292010-08-03T14:46:00.000-07:002010-08-03T14:46:04.164-07:00promos<a href="http://goo.gl/photos/b0Vo" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"><img border="0" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TFiMsm_iobI/AAAAAAAAFnU/0KD5LBPGPmI/s512/CIMG9066.JPG"></a><br /><br />WHO KNEW MUSIC COULD BE THIS MUCH FUN????????????Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-67066891886151863632010-07-26T13:37:00.001-07:002010-07-27T06:22:27.316-07:00BalanceIf you are a Cuban citizen, per month, you are entitled to, among other items, one chicken leg, 10 eggs and per day, you receive one roll of toilet paper as your monthly allowance. Remaining foodstuffs are purchased with the $15-30 (chauffeur, doctor, respectively) monthly Cuban income, tips from tourists or remittances.<br />Where is the balance? In the United States, as a testimony to our materialistic consumerism, when the economy slumps, our government tells us to buy more, sometimes they even give us spending money! We buy and sell credit to the extent that to stratify society into economic classes is nearly impossible given that most of the wealth is a façade protecting the truth of, in many cases, insurmountable debt. There are so many cheaply and mass-produced goods available for purchase in our system that the amount of waste and greed is shameful. However, there is a stifling aura of repression that exists in the daily interactions of people living in a society where they are threatened by government-authorized imprisonment for formulating an independent idea that contradicts the ideologies of those governing them. This is the price a communist society must pay for the services the government provides. Women’s liberation, education, health care, accommodations for people with disabilities, elderly; all the marginalized groups are deliberately provided for. Clearly the two ideologies present components that benefit those governed. As Iranian “President”, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, spoke to the world in an hours long speech, on a state owned news channel, one could question if it is the best policy to alienate world leaders whom we fundamentally disagree with or rather should we keep our enemies close? Apart from the whole prohibition of free speech and the unequal access to luxuries, socialism seems to create a stronger community, yet far weaker individuals. In thinking about the relations between Cuba and the U.S., it is easy to identify the similarity of the situation with that of two children in disagreement while playing during school recess. Yet, the polarized position that each government holds, as history has proven, is destructive and a balance of both systems seems to be ideal.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-49754461834293729972010-07-24T13:14:00.000-07:002010-07-24T13:31:17.528-07:00Fascinating<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMPgAD9SI/AAAAAAAAFiE/LxCUeY5ua5U/s1600/DSCN1939.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMPgAD9SI/AAAAAAAAFiE/LxCUeY5ua5U/s400/DSCN1939.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497571599307765026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMPAK6-iI/AAAAAAAAFh8/bkUxT5CKDiY/s1600/CIMG9561.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMPAK6-iI/AAAAAAAAFh8/bkUxT5CKDiY/s400/CIMG9561.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497571590763379234" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMOcHu55I/AAAAAAAAFh0/ye7qy0ZFbwY/s1600/DSCN1696.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMOcHu55I/AAAAAAAAFh0/ye7qy0ZFbwY/s400/DSCN1696.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497571581086328722" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMNvonIeI/AAAAAAAAFhs/Mc1sIRujw1w/s1600/DSCN1806.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TEtMNvonIeI/AAAAAAAAFhs/Mc1sIRujw1w/s400/DSCN1806.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497571569144635874" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-83400065522493879612010-07-07T20:00:00.000-07:002010-07-07T20:05:11.746-07:00My Pal-ette- NikThanks for the run, it was fabulous!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDVACYdk9II/AAAAAAAAFdM/Dm9cl6GPQSw/s1600/CIMG9399.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDVACYdk9II/AAAAAAAAFdM/Dm9cl6GPQSw/s400/CIMG9399.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491365730318611586" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDVABqB3ZcI/AAAAAAAAFc8/C17ZSZNxfFA/s1600/CIMG9406.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDVABqB3ZcI/AAAAAAAAFc8/C17ZSZNxfFA/s400/CIMG9406.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491365717854348738" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-15654353360705951242010-07-07T15:58:00.000-07:002010-07-07T16:07:50.329-07:00You Are Not Going To Like This One<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDUHCJtRg0I/AAAAAAAAFc0/lrjGaOHEhSw/s1600/CIMG8967.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDUHCJtRg0I/AAAAAAAAFc0/lrjGaOHEhSw/s400/CIMG8967.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491303054195131202" /></a><br />There is no mistaking the bleak realities that social constructs often create in the lives of the impoverished. Although we may not see them each day, the gap between the have and the have-nots is wide and confusing. Recently, I read two books, both describing the plight of the very poorest of two very different societies, rural Honduras and urban New York City.<br /><br />I came across the first book, Don’t Be Afraid Gringo, while visiting a friend who had set out a pile of free books she would not take with her on her move to Uruguay. I picked it up a few times, but never felt inspired to give it a chance. After reading more than half of the book, a friend here in Roatan took it from my hands and gave me what she considered to be more relaxing reading material. As it turns out, given the stresses I felt each day in my position as the assistant director of a fledgling, alternative school, the ideas portrayed in this book did little to help me to escape and decompress. <br /><br />The book is based on the first-hand account of a Campesino, or in less politically correct terms, a peasant, in the deep back country of the Honduran mainland. Initially, the detail of the formative years of the political relationship between the U.S and Honduras depicted in the book was very educational. However, as I read on, I couldn’t help but feel my fists tighten around the pages in discomfort at the description of the degradation that seemed, to an outsider, almost self-inflicted in the Campesino community. I know my liberal, revolutionary counterparts are disappointed in this confession, but it is true that in an effort to understand the state of dysfunction as represented in this book, I felt frustration rather than compassion at the plight of the rural Campesino. <br /><br />In one description, this woman explains that it is customary for girls as young as 12 years old to be taken in the night from her family by a suitor. Her life would most probably continue as a teenage mother, forced to put her children to work at doing anything as soon as they can walk. The description of the male heads of households as drunk, womanizing, abusers, withholding drinking money intended to feed their children, made my jaws clench. <br /><br />I often wondered as I read, if the brutally primitive social patterns in this community were being accurately portrayed or if the Campesino condition was intentionally criticized by its’ own members in order to justify various international aid programs aimed to empower this community.<br /><br />Moreover, it became clear that very little progress, from my perspective, has been made in Honduras. As I recently read a book depicting the horrific circumstances of life in the poorest housing projects in the Bronx, I am disgusted, but not surprised. My work in social service in San Francisco brought me into the homes of my clients in low-income housing projects all over the Bay Area. I was familiar with some of those descriptions. But what I find to be most interesting as I compare the two impoverished groups is that the dangerous and humiliating conditions endured by tenants in the Bronx is directly a result of political power shifting and greed and ignorance on the part of the upper classes, whereas the insolvent Campesino communities seem to almost let their own children slip into this decrepit poverty. <br /><br />While there are similarities to the cruel circumstances both groups of children suffer through, there are far more insurmountable, and uncontrollable hardships created in the Bronx. A few injustices depicted in this book, Amazing Grace, that do not appear on the same scale in Honduras, or in most rural areas, include rat infestation, lead poisoning, AIDS, intravenous drug use, gang and drug violence, malfunctioning elevator shafts, fire hazards, not to mention the facade of any type of functional, effective education. These adversities are often times speculated as intentionally created to cut costs, punish the poor or push them further away from dignified life. <br /><br />No doubt, I have been supplied with far more opportunity, wealth and freedom than those in the communities I have discussed. I apologize for being critical and lacking compassion in certain instances. The positive message I take from this for our Campesino brethren is that women have far more power than they ascertain or insist upon and it is, hopefully, just a matter of time before the women’s liberation movement sweeps the oppressed in Honduras.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-89073409698618840392010-07-06T12:15:00.000-07:002010-07-06T12:43:21.300-07:00Mil Gracias y MemoriasI have been told to count my blessings, and by far, that is the best advice I have ever received. While I have few material valuables, I am blessed to have such great comrades and party animals welcoming me home. Thank you.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOGMNkj_GI/AAAAAAAAFco/S0xfR5OA0AA/s1600/CIMG9376.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOGMNkj_GI/AAAAAAAAFco/S0xfR5OA0AA/s400/CIMG9376.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879915054333026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOGL-O2RJI/AAAAAAAAFcg/PR4GSfr1zck/s1600/CIMG9289.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOGL-O2RJI/AAAAAAAAFcg/PR4GSfr1zck/s400/CIMG9289.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879910936724626" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFsntuoEI/AAAAAAAAFcY/sI2dcjl73tE/s1600/CIMG9252.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFsntuoEI/AAAAAAAAFcY/sI2dcjl73tE/s400/CIMG9252.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879372316287042" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFsUjUAuI/AAAAAAAAFcQ/F5tvEQR3tCI/s1600/CIMG9100.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFsUjUAuI/AAAAAAAAFcQ/F5tvEQR3tCI/s400/CIMG9100.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879367172326114" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFrw1kCvI/AAAAAAAAFcI/AU1QF94n208/s1600/CIMG9083.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFrw1kCvI/AAAAAAAAFcI/AU1QF94n208/s400/CIMG9083.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879357585197810" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFruFOjLI/AAAAAAAAFcA/0JvRhRIWUIA/s1600/CIMG9045.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFruFOjLI/AAAAAAAAFcA/0JvRhRIWUIA/s400/CIMG9045.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879356845591730" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFraty6vI/AAAAAAAAFb4/EF6QXsQvq24/s1600/CIMG8927.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOFraty6vI/AAAAAAAAFb4/EF6QXsQvq24/s400/CIMG8927.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490879351647038194" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOEslWoyDI/AAAAAAAAFbw/HLx8jNna2VQ/s1600/mob+squad.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOEslWoyDI/AAAAAAAAFbw/HLx8jNna2VQ/s400/mob+squad.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490878272170936370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOEsUg0uLI/AAAAAAAAFbo/6w1usbPS1W0/s1600/CIMG9379.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOEsUg0uLI/AAAAAAAAFbo/6w1usbPS1W0/s400/CIMG9379.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490878267650259122" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOErvZ_J_I/AAAAAAAAFbg/tqbB_zpKu1I/s1600/CIMG9432.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOErvZ_J_I/AAAAAAAAFbg/tqbB_zpKu1I/s400/CIMG9432.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490878257689470962" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOErVL3kdI/AAAAAAAAFbY/hhTQuPg5aCA/s1600/CIMG9442.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOErVL3kdI/AAAAAAAAFbY/hhTQuPg5aCA/s400/CIMG9442.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490878250650931666" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOEq1yUDdI/AAAAAAAAFbQ/PGfF8akfKxA/s1600/CIMG9145.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOEq1yUDdI/AAAAAAAAFbQ/PGfF8akfKxA/s400/CIMG9145.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490878242222247378" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOD8bp51II/AAAAAAAAFbI/yJ0VgoUSPNg/s1600/CIMG9000.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDOD8bp51II/AAAAAAAAFbI/yJ0VgoUSPNg/s400/CIMG9000.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490877444933670018" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-1476895126014039642010-07-06T11:25:00.000-07:002010-07-06T12:07:28.290-07:00Life with Rats<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDN-zWk8XVI/AAAAAAAAFbA/N_1cZG3Iylw/s1600/bronx+kids.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 234px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/TDN-zWk8XVI/AAAAAAAAFbA/N_1cZG3Iylw/s400/bronx+kids.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490871791393725778" /></a><br />I have been reading, Amazing Grace by Jonathan Kozol. It depicts the details of life in the South Bronx. I have found it to be very intriguing, perplexing and gracefully written. Here is an excerpt, though, it is graphic: <br /><br />[“ You see them earlier than afternoon,” she says. “These rats are fearless. Light don’t scare them. Noise don’t scare them. You can see them in the park at noon.” <br /><br />…She tells me of a seven-month-old boy who was attacked three blocks away from here a month before by several rats that climbed into his crib. Doctor said he hadn’t seen bite marks like that in years. The baby’s fingers were all bloody. I think it was the third time that his baby was attacked. His mother’s terrified but can’t move out. The city put her in the building and she don’t have any money to move somewhere else. <br /><br />… “Something’s happened. They’re resistant to the poison that the Board of Health lays down. They get swollen with the poison but it doesn’t seem to kill them. They live in the dirty water. They look like they’re all blown up, like if you pricked them they’d explode. Sharp little claws. I’ve seen them walk right up a tree like they were walkin’ on the ground. <br /><br />…The rats, she says, have a frightening meaning for some of the more religious people in the neighborhood. “This Puerto Rican lady says that rats are s’posed to come before Armageddon. You hear a lot of people talkin’ of Armageddon. Bible says that there will be 10,000 rats for every person. <br /><br />… “I ain’t sayin’ I believe it. I’m just sayin’ what the Bible says… 10,000 rats per person.” Smiling, she adds, “If that’s the truth, we must be gettin’ close.”]Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-54184383650464590402010-04-29T09:57:00.000-07:002010-04-29T10:10:27.207-07:00La MultaYesterday a friend and I were in the "City Center" in Coxen Hole. This is where there are all of the goverment offices and many banks, etc. We were at the bank for 15 minutes. We came back to the car we had left parked, like many other cars on the street, on an unpainted curb ( indicating there are no parking restrictions). The parking attendant was in the middle of writing up our ticket with a fine ( la multa) of 500 lempiras or $25. We were frustrated especially because he had no response to our inquiry as to where the no parking information is to be found on the street. <br /><br />When we looked closer at the ticket and to our contentment, we realized that there were absolutely no numbers or information that could trace the car back to this ticket. The ticket simply describes the car as a "Kia with 4 doors and no license plate". Knowing that this was enough to make us laugh it off and certainly not enough to find us and throw us in jail, I put good use to the ticket and immediately scanned it to share here, on my blog! Enjoy! I call this one, "La Multa".<br /> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9m7WU0KjgI/AAAAAAAAFWk/t5g50KV730A/s1600/multa+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 367px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9m7WU0KjgI/AAAAAAAAFWk/t5g50KV730A/s400/multa+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465605615009828354" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-21316782601162648162010-04-24T20:34:00.000-07:002010-04-24T20:53:43.734-07:00Plat Pollin' n' Such<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O8vc9MUjI/AAAAAAAAFVs/mLEE3VXEPLo/s1600/CIMG8413.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O8vc9MUjI/AAAAAAAAFVs/mLEE3VXEPLo/s400/CIMG8413.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463918296343269938" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O8vMijuOI/AAAAAAAAFVk/qyH7zVf_ESY/s1600/CIMG8409.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O8vMijuOI/AAAAAAAAFVk/qyH7zVf_ESY/s400/CIMG8409.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463918291936590050" /></a><br />The Plat Pole is like the May Pole and it is a famously famous cultural break dance. Our friend Morris and his entire empire showing us how it is done!<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7jyd7itI/AAAAAAAAFVc/oX68dqvXEr8/s1600/CIMG8404.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7jyd7itI/AAAAAAAAFVc/oX68dqvXEr8/s400/CIMG8404.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916996447668946" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7jh1MKMI/AAAAAAAAFVU/Iy7KugxB9YI/s1600/CIMG8428.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7jh1MKMI/AAAAAAAAFVU/Iy7KugxB9YI/s400/CIMG8428.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916991981824194" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7jH3r3xI/AAAAAAAAFVM/lsNTZ9TM_VM/s1600/CIMG8419.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7jH3r3xI/AAAAAAAAFVM/lsNTZ9TM_VM/s400/CIMG8419.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916985012969234" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7i5VQsTI/AAAAAAAAFVE/--zqyWAKWj4/s1600/CIMG8385.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7i5VQsTI/AAAAAAAAFVE/--zqyWAKWj4/s400/CIMG8385.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916981110485298" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7Ky7nF1I/AAAAAAAAFU8/Yqi0IRDOJR4/s1600/CIMG8391.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7Ky7nF1I/AAAAAAAAFU8/Yqi0IRDOJR4/s400/CIMG8391.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916567075428178" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7KxPiDpI/AAAAAAAAFU0/QSHfhjlbJ5g/s1600/CIMG8379.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 381px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7KxPiDpI/AAAAAAAAFU0/QSHfhjlbJ5g/s400/CIMG8379.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916566622113426" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7KkwWnlI/AAAAAAAAFUs/VouGmaGGcgQ/s1600/CIMG8374.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7KkwWnlI/AAAAAAAAFUs/VouGmaGGcgQ/s400/CIMG8374.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916563270114898" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7KPU9yTI/AAAAAAAAFUk/QjGGTt_8stk/s1600/CIMG8371.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7KPU9yTI/AAAAAAAAFUk/QjGGTt_8stk/s400/CIMG8371.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916557518096690" /></a><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7J8b92lI/AAAAAAAAFUc/walEr_BBQJ8/s1600/CIMG8373.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O7J8b92lI/AAAAAAAAFUc/walEr_BBQJ8/s400/CIMG8373.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463916552447187538" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O6iVHyu4I/AAAAAAAAFUU/hIH6P7pV_YE/s1600/CIMG8372.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O6iVHyu4I/AAAAAAAAFUU/hIH6P7pV_YE/s400/CIMG8372.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463915871878691714" /></a><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O54KjaquI/AAAAAAAAFUM/_oB761ymaJQ/s1600/DSCN0965.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O54KjaquI/AAAAAAAAFUM/_oB761ymaJQ/s400/DSCN0965.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463915147487259362" /></a><br /><br />SBAS Teacher Retreat, Survivor Much?<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O4sgNdg9I/AAAAAAAAFUE/hl1qCwdCDGM/s1600/DSCN0974.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S9O4sgNdg9I/AAAAAAAAFUE/hl1qCwdCDGM/s400/DSCN0974.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463913847630693330" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-25026798786835119982010-04-02T22:45:00.000-07:002010-04-02T22:46:18.748-07:00Pati is 30<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWJIp0tZI/AAAAAAAAFM4/zWRik_0yHkc/s1600/CIMG8212.JPG'><img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWJIp0tZI/AAAAAAAAFM4/zWRik_0yHkc/s400/CIMG8212.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWJgOZHxI/AAAAAAAAFNA/oRSU_af09fI/s1600/CIMG8214.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWJgOZHxI/AAAAAAAAFNA/oRSU_af09fI/s400/CIMG8214.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWJ3YQTMI/AAAAAAAAFNI/z9T0omQudKs/s1600/CIMG8215.JPG'><img src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWJ3YQTMI/AAAAAAAAFNI/z9T0omQudKs/s400/CIMG8215.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><br /><div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><a href='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWKDLxVBI/AAAAAAAAFNQ/CSWFOaOx7Do/s1600/CIMG8216.JPG'><img src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S7bWKDLxVBI/AAAAAAAAFNQ/CSWFOaOx7Do/s400/CIMG8216.JPG' border='0' alt='' /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-28811825092763784222010-03-23T00:00:00.000-07:002010-03-23T00:07:10.522-07:00Precious<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S6hn0C0iDDI/AAAAAAAAFKc/emXM082cS4c/s1600-h/CIMG5974.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S6hn0C0iDDI/AAAAAAAAFKc/emXM082cS4c/s400/CIMG5974.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451721492740049970" /></a><br />I have been tossing around for about an hour, just a little longer than the yapping dog has been barking outside, it has not stopped. I try my usual fall asleep routines I began to perfect when I was a public high school teacher; deep, slow breathing, the Our Father and the Scientific Statement of Being. It is as if something cannot rest. Each time I begin my prayers, my mind wanders to some problem to solve or a character in the movie, “Precious”, I watched right before bed. As I sit here in the middle of the night, I think back to being in Miami visiting my mom and as I can’t sleep I write a letter to God as a prayer about my mom. I chose now to finally wake up because quite definitely there is something for me to notice. Why do dogs bark at nothing for hours? Why don’t some mothers defend their children? I connected with the purpose of the characters in this movie. Precious wanted only to be someone else, somewhere else and her teacher spent her day with her movie star looks sticking it out as a flashlight in the dark for her students who just by the mere fact of their uneducation, stood alone. Precious admits that as she sits listening to her teacher and her partner converse, she has no idea of what they are saying. I realize tonight that many of my sleep-deprived nights as a teacher might not have been due to stress of my own but that of my students.Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5007377242491661177.post-60178041587747132502010-03-14T09:27:00.000-07:002010-03-14T12:00:38.411-07:00I and I a PirateLooking this good at 60, U Dun Know!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50SwuY_-9I/AAAAAAAAFJs/px3e3VzcL9o/s1600-h/DSCN0840.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50SwuY_-9I/AAAAAAAAFJs/px3e3VzcL9o/s400/DSCN0840.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448531752484076498" /></a>“ Ya mon. I got da hole ting ready.” These, the words from Alstead, the captain of our maiden voyage, honoring Bobby’s 60th birthday. Alstead and Eddie had told me many times, “It dun ready”, referring to the ladder, seats and overall repair of Alstead’s sturdy, old-school Coxen Hole fishing boat. Eddie promised to supply the beverages. 30 minutes after I arrived at the dock with the surprised birthday boy, Eddie explained that his son had drank all the beer that night before. He did tell me this same story 3 times in a row. He apparently doesn’t realize the power of the disappointed teacher stare he was receiving at that moment. So, after the 15 party passengers arrived on time for the surprise, we watched as the preparations were made. Alstead made 3 trips with an old beat up truck. The first load consisted of a borrowed pulperia table and chair set, which like the contents of the second load, a huge sofa, were lashed to the railings of the boat with rope. The third load was 4 cases of brew and ice. It was a Sunday, no liquor sales on church day, so good thing Alstead’s niece owned the beer depot! <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Barely made it out of Coxen Hole</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50Pbu0ilwI/AAAAAAAAFJU/Bs8v4muvZdM/s1600-h/DSCN0738.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50Pbu0ilwI/AAAAAAAAFJU/Bs8v4muvZdM/s400/DSCN0738.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448528093287454466" /></a><br />After 45 more minutes of watching Alstead and what now appeared to be half of the mechanics in the neighborhood pluck and turn engine parts, the generator shut off, the roaring engine stood on its own and we were off. It was a leap of faith, we knew if that vessel left the harbor, we’d be in for a true island cruise. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Holy Sheiks, even in the Caribbean</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50Tn2cQ4gI/AAAAAAAAFJ0/nz6pKbCHe9U/s1600-h/DSCN0873.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50Tn2cQ4gI/AAAAAAAAFJ0/nz6pKbCHe9U/s400/DSCN0873.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448532699538055682" /></a><br /><br />As was promised, we were able to use the ladder to get back on the boat after our bathroom breaks. Knowing the dangers we faced to get back aboard the vessel, we threw caution to the wind and jumped into the huge swells in the deep, south side waters. Bobby was able to lash this giant wooden ladder to the side of the boat with the help of 2 of our “crew”, for whom, there was a fair ration of dark rum. Mind you the beer was reserved for us land dwellers. We threw ourselves back over the 4-foot high deck rail of the beast, sliding back to seated positions as soon as possible, trying to avoid cracking our skulls on the deck, which was now slick with spilled fuel. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Gracie, she don't swim, but she climbs a mean ladder!</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50PyR0mSsI/AAAAAAAAFJc/kTF1F3IVCKc/s1600-h/DSCN0756.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50PyR0mSsI/AAAAAAAAFJc/kTF1F3IVCKc/s400/DSCN0756.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448528480640060098" /></a><br />Although signs of precarious conditions abounded, such as countless glass beer bottles aboard our slippery boat deck, not a radio nor rescue device in sight, and a diminishing ice supply, we prevailed, staying true to our pirate ambitions. We dropped anchor in a calm protected cove, the color of a turquoise blue swimming pool. The food, which Datson and Gracie had brought on board, was soon brought to the table, and the cannon ball dive competition from off the top deck ensued. In celebrating our good friend’s birthday, all onboard having originated from different parts of the globe such as the Honduran mainland, the Island, the States, the UK, Argentina and Holland, we found ourselves pirates for a day. Now familiar on this fiberglass boat which became famed not for looks, but for style. <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">I and I, We Pirates</span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50WU7pxT3I/AAAAAAAAFJ8/eHZ1GX1iY_s/s1600-h/DSCN0924.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9pt-f09nPUU/S50WU7pxT3I/AAAAAAAAFJ8/eHZ1GX1iY_s/s400/DSCN0924.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448535673054252914" /></a>Trishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18123015473586844989noreply@blogger.com0