"We goin' on de muck."
"Whut's de muck, and where is it at?"
"Oh down in de Everglades round Clewiston and Belle Glade where dey raise all dat cane and string-beans and tomatuhs. Folks don't do nothin' down dere but make money and fun and foolishness. We must go dere."
Zora Neale Hurston,
Their Eyes Were Watching God,chapter 13.
Again, it's funny how I always post on my blog at a weird hour. After a few hours of sleep, I'm up at 3:45 a.m. It's always hard adjusting to a hotel room, even though it's nice.
I'm out in the field this week, visiting a site in Belle Glade, a community on the southeastern shore of Lake Okechobbee, and staying in a hotel in Clewiston, a larger town with a decent H-Inn Express.
My visit down here is to provide some training and technical assistance to a community organization, facilitating on disaster and volunteer management. I love training, especially when there's AmeriCorps*VISTAs involved.
This is a part of Florida I'd never seen, and I was really excited to come, knowing this area was part of the setting for Their Eyes Were Watching God. As I flew into Ft. Lauderdale, I saw Florida's Great Lake and the thousands of acres of wetlands and sugar cane.
And there is sugar cane! Everywhere! And I saw the muck-- that rich soil that comes at the environmental expense of the Everglades. Driving in, I felt like I was in a different country... the poverty is obvious and there are still plywood shutters and blue roof on trailers all over here.
This is the home of the powerful U.S. Sugar Corporation (whose big industry makes them very arrogant-- I had a bad experience with an executive during the 04 Hurricanes), yet there is such an obvious class division of the haves vs. have-nots. I see all this sugar and the powerful mills that provide jobs, yet many of these communities are very poor.
I had dinner at the Clewiston Inn (clewistoninn.com) last night with some of my colleagues from the project site, and they gave me some great insight into the area. One of them has strong political ties and will probably run for Congress in a few years (she's an awesome person we need people who know the struggles non-profits face in serving the poor!) The Inn was built by none other than U.S. Sugar to house visiting dignataries and execs. They really have great food, and at a great price too! I got some of the local catfish with hushpuppies that included a salad, steamed veggies, baked potato, bread-- all for $9! There were four huge fillets, and the potato was the size of my head!
I complete the training today, and fly back up in the afternoon.
09 October, 2006
Another year has passed for me... now, I'm forging ahead in this last year of my 20s.
I'm not really the type to go all out for my birthday. I'm very simple; just a quiet day, enjoying this beautiful weather we've been having, and reflecting on my life.
There are many great people who share my birthday, and I've come to the conclusion that the world would be a better place if more Libras were leaders. We're thinkers and feelers... and we strive for balance.
That'd be great world, huh? But that's just my humble opinion.
I'm not really the type to go all out for my birthday. I'm very simple; just a quiet day, enjoying this beautiful weather we've been having, and reflecting on my life.
There are many great people who share my birthday, and I've come to the conclusion that the world would be a better place if more Libras were leaders. We're thinkers and feelers... and we strive for balance.
That'd be great world, huh? But that's just my humble opinion.
28 September, 2006
Shopping for baby clothes.
I'll readily admit that I'm not the type of person who really loves to go shopping... after all, why look for something you like, but don't need, and don't have the money to pay for it?
However, there's one weakness in shopping that I like... baby clothes.
Funny, huh? This childless bachelor loves to shop for baby clothes. It's the thrill of the hunt coupled with the happiness that it brings to child (I'll explain later) and especially Mom.
I was in Baby Gap last week to buy something for my friends' newborn (Isaiah, born 9/12) before heading back to Gulf Breeze for the weekend. I walked in and the saleswomen (and they were all women in the store) and immediately came over, probably thinking I'd mistakenly thought I was walking into Footlocker and needed re-direction. They paused though, as they saw continue my journey in.
"May I help you?" a very cute saleswoman asked. Of course, all the cute college girls work at the Gap.
"Oh, I'm looking for something for my friend's newborn," I replied without removing an eye off the sales rack.
"Ahhhhh...." she and another saleswoman nearby cooed.
So begins the game. I flirt. They ask about the baby. I pretend I don't know what I'm doing. They flirt. I pick out something and ask if this looks "cute."
Before I know it, I've bought something for Isaiah, and to continue the game, I buy something for my godson, Wesley. (I thought it was important to buy something for Wesley too, because I didn't want him to have jealousy issues if he saw his younger brother was getting something.)
I pay for the clothes and ask charmingly, "Would you happen to have any gift boxes? I don't think I'd have time to run into Wal-Mart."
"Oh, sure. No problem."
I just thought she'd put some boxes in my bag, like they do at any department store and that's it. No, she goes above and beyond and meticulously removes the tags, wraps the gifts and does whatever you do to ribbon to make it look like you've wrapped the Holy Grail.
I smile and thank her with my "ohhhh" and "ahhhh." And she smiles back as I leave and say, "you're awesome, hun.... just awesome."
Ah.... the game.
That's not all, though.
Do you remember as a child getting gifts wrapped up in shiny paper and glossy ribbon?
Remember the disappointment when you opened it up and saw it wasn't a toy, but some clothes?
I never knew a kid who loved to get clothes... until I gave that gift to Wesley.
He opened the box, saw the new light blue and bright red polo and screamed with joy. He did his little toddler dance, took off his shirt right in the living room and put on the shirt. The rest of the evening, he was a sudden ball of energy, yelling and screaming and having fun with his "Ninong."
Filipinos believe that godchildren bring you good luck... I've been lucky, indeed.
However, there's one weakness in shopping that I like... baby clothes.
Funny, huh? This childless bachelor loves to shop for baby clothes. It's the thrill of the hunt coupled with the happiness that it brings to child (I'll explain later) and especially Mom.
I was in Baby Gap last week to buy something for my friends' newborn (Isaiah, born 9/12) before heading back to Gulf Breeze for the weekend. I walked in and the saleswomen (and they were all women in the store) and immediately came over, probably thinking I'd mistakenly thought I was walking into Footlocker and needed re-direction. They paused though, as they saw continue my journey in.
"May I help you?" a very cute saleswoman asked. Of course, all the cute college girls work at the Gap.
"Oh, I'm looking for something for my friend's newborn," I replied without removing an eye off the sales rack.
"Ahhhhh...." she and another saleswoman nearby cooed.
So begins the game. I flirt. They ask about the baby. I pretend I don't know what I'm doing. They flirt. I pick out something and ask if this looks "cute."
Before I know it, I've bought something for Isaiah, and to continue the game, I buy something for my godson, Wesley. (I thought it was important to buy something for Wesley too, because I didn't want him to have jealousy issues if he saw his younger brother was getting something.)
I pay for the clothes and ask charmingly, "Would you happen to have any gift boxes? I don't think I'd have time to run into Wal-Mart."
"Oh, sure. No problem."
I just thought she'd put some boxes in my bag, like they do at any department store and that's it. No, she goes above and beyond and meticulously removes the tags, wraps the gifts and does whatever you do to ribbon to make it look like you've wrapped the Holy Grail.
I smile and thank her with my "ohhhh" and "ahhhh." And she smiles back as I leave and say, "you're awesome, hun.... just awesome."
Ah.... the game.
That's not all, though.
Do you remember as a child getting gifts wrapped up in shiny paper and glossy ribbon?
Remember the disappointment when you opened it up and saw it wasn't a toy, but some clothes?
I never knew a kid who loved to get clothes... until I gave that gift to Wesley.
He opened the box, saw the new light blue and bright red polo and screamed with joy. He did his little toddler dance, took off his shirt right in the living room and put on the shirt. The rest of the evening, he was a sudden ball of energy, yelling and screaming and having fun with his "Ninong."
Filipinos believe that godchildren bring you good luck... I've been lucky, indeed.
16 September, 2006
Memory Triggers
In my normal rounds meandering through the Capitol Complex, random thoughts just occur to me.
Today, as I was walking across the street through mid-day traffic, I got whiff of the car exhaust... the smell that always triggers my memories of my childhood summers in the Philippines.
It reminds me of Manila, the highly polluted capital with a myriad of foul smelling open sewers, car exhaust, stagnant water, excrement, and old grease.
Not particularly attractive, but somehow you can't help but love Manila once you've been there.
It's a city of many contrasts, especially between the rich and poor, the pious and the flamboyant, the festive and the sorrowful.
My initial encounter in 1986 was a shocking welcome. Leaving the airport and sitting through traffic, I saw my first glimpse of poverty in the eyes of a beggar and her children. Never had I seen that before, and for an eight year old kid, it made a lasting impression that lives on today.
Manila has extreme poverty, but has its opulence too. Her tall, imposing megamalls and sterile glassy condos spring up all over. Manila's progress is always one step forward and taking two steps back, but that's a tango she's danced many times.
Today, as I was walking across the street through mid-day traffic, I got whiff of the car exhaust... the smell that always triggers my memories of my childhood summers in the Philippines.
It reminds me of Manila, the highly polluted capital with a myriad of foul smelling open sewers, car exhaust, stagnant water, excrement, and old grease.
Not particularly attractive, but somehow you can't help but love Manila once you've been there.
It's a city of many contrasts, especially between the rich and poor, the pious and the flamboyant, the festive and the sorrowful.
My initial encounter in 1986 was a shocking welcome. Leaving the airport and sitting through traffic, I saw my first glimpse of poverty in the eyes of a beggar and her children. Never had I seen that before, and for an eight year old kid, it made a lasting impression that lives on today.
Manila has extreme poverty, but has its opulence too. Her tall, imposing megamalls and sterile glassy condos spring up all over. Manila's progress is always one step forward and taking two steps back, but that's a tango she's danced many times.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)