LATIN FOR THE SEA

Thuggernaut 2006-2013

Sun, 19 May 2013 15:47:00 -0400

3 days ago I found out that my cat died. My housemates, who were taking care of him, told me that he was taken to the vet in critical condition with some kind of respiratory illness and was put down. He was only 7 years old and in perfect health when I left. I have been living abroad for 8 months, and I am three weeks away from coming home.

At first I was angry- how could this have happened? Why didn’t they take better care of him? Then I thought, regretfully, that the Powers that Be were punishing me for something- enjoying myself without him, perhaps. After a few days of mourning and processing, I’ve moved past those feelings and now I’d like instead to reflect on the impact of this pet- only a cat, after all- and the formative years of my life in which he was a constant.

When he first came into my life I was 21 years old and freshly returned from studying abroad my senior year in college. He was a gift to my boyfriend from his brother and sister-in-law. My boyfriend named him Thuggernaut, a name which bemused me at best. He was a wildly energetic kitten with ears that were 3 times too big for him and a beautiful chocolate swirled coat. I fell in love with him immediately. When my boyfriend transferred to UC Santa Cruz and couldn’t find a place that allowed pets, I gladly took him in. It was 2007, I had graduated and relocated to Berkeley and had just moved into a studio of my own at that time.

Thuggernaut kept me company during the next two years that I lived there by myself. I had a 9 to 5 working for an architect and was going to evening classes to pursue Interior Design. I remember taking him down the hall to the apartment of my boyfriend’s brother, where he and his wife would let my cat play with theirs like some kind of day care. This was my trying-to-be-a-real-adult phase. I remember Thuggernaut laying in the middle of all my fabric scraps while I tried to put together material boards for projects. I remember one night I was getting ready for bed at the vanity in my closet and Thuggernaut was watching me from the doorway. Suddenly he bolted under the bed and a split second later an earthquake struck- he had felt it first. I steadied myself in the doorframe and was terrified at the idea of being alone while my old building crumbled on top of me, but I was comforted as me and the cat stared at each other wide-eyed in a shared moment of fear and I realized that I wasn’t completely alone.

In October of 2009 I sensed that the stagnating economy would take a toll on my work and I moved to Oakland into a big house with 7 other people in order to save money and get a change of scenery. My boyfriend and I had broken up and he had moved to New York, after an almost 3-year long distance relationship. The cat came with me and I was now comfortable with calling him mine. As we were adjusting to this new life with all of it’s open shared spaces and new faces, I was laid off. When I told my parents that maybe this was an opportunity to take time off and figure things out, and they responded with, “We just thought you would be bringing more to the table by now,” Thuggernaut stayed quiet and didn’t judge. He also stayed by my side on all the proceeding mornings I would sit on the porch and smoke a spliff while I tried to figure out what I really wanted from life. I was 24 years old and didn’t have a clue, and I was glad he was there.

At that big house in Oakland I had to learn to let go a little. Thuggernaut was yearning to go outside and I really couldn’t stop him. One night I returned late from a drag party at the Happiness Hotel and went to bed without realizing that my cat was not at his usual place by my side. A little while later I heard a terrible cry outside and I knew instantly for some reason that it was him. I put on my robe and rushed out onto the porch but I couldn’t see him. I smoked a cigarette in the cold night and waited for him, calling his name like a crazily distraught mother. He finally slinked back to the door with his tail between his legs and I can’t remember a time when I was more relieved. The next day I realized he had been injured in whatever fight he had gotten into, and some steep medical bills later we had some heartbreakingly hilarious moments with a plastic cone and force fed pills.

During this time I had to ask myself what lengths I would honestly go to in order to care for this random dime-a-dozen creature. How much would be too much? Would I be able to put him down if it came to it?

I remember dating a guy who thought his name was stupid and suggested we change it, and the choice was clear and easy. It would be highly unlikely that I would ever compromise my pet for a guy. Thuggernaut was not my first choice for a name but that’s who he was and that name represented a significant person and part of my life. Thuggernaut is who he’ll always be.

In 2012, after having numerous odd jobs as an event coordinator, street vendor, waitress, gallery assistant, photographer, grocery store clerk, receptionist, whatever whatever I finally decided to apply to teach English abroad- a back up plan I had had since visiting a friend teaching in China in 2008. I landed a teaching position in Santiago, Chile, and prepared to be separated from my furry little baby for the longest time since we had moved in together. He had had his shares of ups and downs too- living with a female cat who tormented him, loving and losing a stray kitten who became like a little brother, and learning to be taken care of by strangers.

I think about all the people who have helped take care of him over the years, and it makes my heart swell. Through this cat I learned so much about my friends and especially about myself- I got a taste of what’s it like to be a parent and realized that I do have something resembling a maternal instinct. I worried and coddled and complained about expenses. I took turns being grateful and resentful, cleaned up messes and made decisions based on obligation, and I needed help from my friends and they gave it to me.

Animals are constants in our lives and serve as amazing time markers- they bring people together and define an era. I think about the people who have come and gone since I was 21, and more importantly the people who have come and stayed. I think about what kind of person I would have been in my early 20s if I hadn’t become a pet owner, and it’s hard to imagine. Taking responsibility for another creature’s life really made me cut out a lot of meaningless and harmful crap from my life and appreciate the right kind of people. “Pet-owner” is now a part of what defines me, and I’m glad.

The vet said there’s no clear indication of why he got sick. The diagnosis was respiratory distress and heart failure due to probable cancer. So it goes. He will be buried in the garden and upon my return to Oakland that is the first place I will go. Thuggernaut, I’m coming home and I can’t wait to see you.

Iglesia San Francisco

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 09:36:00 -0400

After living next to this giant red church for 3 months, and peering out of the window down at the tops of the overflowing vegetation of its courtyard, I finally managed to go inside.

The courtyard is big and dark, because the trees block out the light. There is a fountain in the middle. The ground is wet unpaved dirt. It’s very quiet. Around the courtyard there are large white arches with dark, almost black, thick beams overhead. There are smooth large terracotta tiles beneath the beams and arches.

The rooms surrounding the courtyard house the colonial museum- what is really more of a collection of religious relics than colonial ones. The light is poor, the windows are small and the sparse track lighting is garish at times, spotlighting old rotting dolls fashioned after saints and skeletal Christs covered in blood and tacky wigs. Catholicism is depressing and frightening, it made me think. But there is a large room dedicated to huge paintings depicting the life of Saint Francis, which I found inspiring. I decided I would read more about his life and miracles.

As I walked back out into the courtyard and towards the exit, I passed a small older man wearing a baseball cap, faded jeans, and gardening gloves who started talking to me. He asked me if I spoke Spanish, to which I replied ‘a little.’ He proceeded to beckon me to follow him over to the trees, pointing at various plants and talking fluidly.

I tried my best to follow along. I think he asked me if I was familiar with this or that, to which I said ‘I know the Araucaria’ pointing to the biggest and oldest tree, the most visible from my window. It’s over 500 years old, he said. He brought me to another tree and plucked a leaf from its branch, giving it to me. He said something about putting it in the wallet for good luck, then proceeded to take the leaf from my hand, break it apart, and hold it to my nose. It smelled wonderful, like warm sugar. I took out my wallet and gestured to him to show that I was putting it in my wallet, smiling in place of the words I didn’t know. He then showed me a plant that looked like a variety of bamboo, and said what I think was something about the old priests using it to beat themselves. I just nodded, turning to the fountain.

“I like the fish,” I said.

“There are turtles,” he said.

We circled the quiet fountain but found no turtles. Then he pointed to a beautiful rooster crossing the path near us, saying something about the variety of bird. It had long flowing tail feathers that were dark emerald green. Where had it been before? I hadn’t noticed any animals when I first arrived.

Then he signaled for me to look around a corner and see a large male peacock, walking casually and freely among the bushes. It looked strange. Then the man, who asked me what my name was and said his was Milo, explained that the bird lost its feathers to prepare to grow new ones.

“I have not seen this bird without the big feathers” I said.

“Wait a moment,” he said.

I saw him walk into the bushes towards a wrought iron cage, an aviary, and go inside. He picked something up off the ground and came back. He had two small feathers from the body of the peacock, about the size of my palm. He gave them to me and then made an opening and closing motion with his hands, “put them in a book, to mark the pages,” he said.

Buen idea, I told him, and que bonita!

“You are very pretty, señorita,” he said, smiling.

I thanked him, flattered, and wished him a good afternoon. I left, crossed the loud and bright street to my apartment building, and went home.

Emily Heller!

Thu, 21 Mar 2013 14:11:01 -0400

Emily Heller!:

Love her, love this.

listening to Beach House today and kept thinking about this...

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 16:58:45 -0500

listening to Beach House today and kept thinking about this scene…

Finding Vivian Maier

Sat, 09 Mar 2013 12:44:47 -0500

Finding Vivian Maier

Andy wrote a blurb on the Deli SF for Oakland band Religous...

Tue, 05 Mar 2013 14:47:45 -0500

Andy wrote a blurb on the Deli SF for Oakland band Religous Girls!

Co-Mixing

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 08:58:30 -0500

His for Me

and

Mine for Him

We both had different strategies: he listed songs that made him think of me, and I listed songs that I thought/knew he would like with the word ‘love’ in it. We both included ‘Modern Love’ by Bowie, and songs by Leonard Cohen and Wilco. This made me really really happy <3

This makes me smile…

Thu, 14 Feb 2013 07:58:24 -0500

This makes me smile…

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile 2013

Fri, 08 Feb 2013 17:13:00 -0500

San Pedro de Atacama, Chile 2013

Daniela in watercolor January 2013

Mon, 21 Jan 2013 18:07:22 -0500

Daniela in watercolor January 2013

the stairwell

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 09:11:00 -0500

It was nearing midnight and I had just reached my new apartment building. I had my keys ready but the one for the front door was sticking in the lock again and as I fumbled I could see out of the corner of my eye that it had caught the attention of this guy standing near the curb. I finally got the door open and by then he was behind me waiting to come in, so I let him pass me to go up the stairs first.

At the first floor landing he had stopped and was talking into his phone, “I’m on the first floor,” he said in Spanish. I continued on past him, but started to get a little nervous as he continued to follow me up until the 2nd locked gate between the 3rd and 4th floors. I was fumbling with my keys again, trying not to let the 4 beers I had had at a friend’s house slow me down. I didn’t want to deal with this guy. He came up behind me, his face about level with my waist, and asked -I think- if I was going to the 4th floor… something about the 4th floor. I said no, 6, but here is 4- pointing to the landing just beyond us. Hearing my accent he immediately said, “Disculpe” and stuck out his hand- “excuse me.” I felt a little better at this nicety but still nervously opened the gate and let him go first.

When he was a few steps above me he stopped and turned around. He bent down, stuck his hand out again and put his other hand on my waist, “Disculpe. Disculpe! Hola.” He bent down to give me the usual kiss on the cheek, shaking my hand, but then he went to kiss the other cheek. I reluctantly kissed him. People from Spain do that…maybe he is from Spain, I didn’t know. ” De donde eres?” Where are you from, he wanted to know. ‘California,’ I replied quickly as I tried to continue on to my 6th floor. But he still continued after me, and I really started to get nervous. “Donde vas??” I asked him- where are you going? Then he said ‘last floor,’ all while we were quickly walking up the stairs, in a spiral, and I was trying to get distance between us. He was tall and skinny and young, with an angled baseball cap and baggy shorts, longish hair, pierced ears. He could have been the skateboarding friend of a friend, someone I was pleased to meet in another time and place.

I was at my front door now, again fumbling with my keys, trying to unlock the door while keeping an eye on him. He got really close to me and kept saying, “Disculpe,” over and over again… trying to shake my hand while resting his other hand on my skirt, on my left butt cheek. I pushed his hand away, while nervously laughing and knocking on the door, desperately, telling him ‘“no, it’s ok, it’s ok, good night,” he tried to keep talking but I was done listening by now, thoroughly freaked out and backed into the corner where my door met the wall, “BUENOS NOCHES” I said more forcefully- can’t you see you’re freaking me out?! My voice clearly indicated.

Then I got the door open as my housemates were coming out to see what was going on. I went straight to my room and was embarrassed at how shaken I was. I put my purse down, ‘There was this guy..’ was all I could really say. I heard Danilo go out to the stairwell while asking me if I was okay, I went back to the open front door just as Danilo encountered the guy coming down from the top floor. Danilo blocked him and asked him what was up, and the guy simply said he was looking for the 4th floor. ‘Is this the guy?’ Danilo asked, I nodded but insisted it’s ok, it’s all good, todo bueno… todo bueno.

After the guy had left and we were inside again, I felt my eyes start to get hot and watery, from anger and embarrassment that this had been… a thing. That this had happened, and yet nothing too terrible had really happened, and it had freaked me out so much. My housemates rubbed my arms and took me to the kitchen where they poured vodka tonics and we moved on with our night. I went to bed feeling okay.

Then I woke up, in the middle of the night.

I couldn’t get back to sleep as I angrily thought about all the things I should have done or could have said, frustrated once again by my inability to speak.

realitytelevision: for maris Colonia, Uruguay. photo by my...

Sun, 20 Jan 2013 08:18:08 -0500

realitytelevision:

for maris

Colonia, Uruguay. photo by my megs :)

Saltos de Petrohue, Chile

Tue, 15 Jan 2013 22:26:02 -0500

Saltos de Petrohue, Chile

Jardin de las Rosas, Buenos Aires

Mon, 14 Jan 2013 20:55:52 -0500

Jardin de las Rosas, Buenos Aires

Playa Las Delicias, Uruguay

Mon, 14 Jan 2013 20:35:17 -0500

Playa Las Delicias, Uruguay

"episode idea"

Sun, 13 Jan 2013 00:34:52 -0500

An American teacher moves to Chile with his new wife and is told by his wife that it is custom not to throw the toilet paper in the toilet. For the rest of his life he abides by this rule in Chile and even goes on to explain about the custom to all the following teachers who come to teach in his new English Learning School. They then make lives for themselves in Chile, always practicing this custom.

Chileans, meanwhile, start to wonder why Americans never ever flush their dirty toilet paper and then begin to assume that it’s an American custom.

Lago LLanquehue in the lake region of Chile

Sat, 29 Dec 2012 16:06:00 -0500

Lago LLanquehue in the lake region of Chile

Carla Morrison, one of the highlights from going to yesterday’s...

Mon, 19 Nov 2012 14:53:28 -0500

Carla Morrison, one of the highlights from going to yesterday’s Pulsar music festival here in Santiago

Astro, one of the highlights from going to yesterday’s...

Mon, 19 Nov 2012 14:44:11 -0500

Astro, one of the highlights from going to yesterday’s Pulsar music festival here in Santiago

Super Fast Veggie Version of Pastel de Choclo serves 4-6 1/2 cup...

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 13:45:00 -0500

Super Fast Veggie Version of Pastel de Choclo

serves 4-6

1/2 cup polenta

1/2 onion chopped

1/2 cup veggie meat

1/2 zucchini chopped

handful of raisins

salt, pepper, cumin, merken/spicy stuff, sugar

-boil 2 cups of water, add polenta and let simmer about 20 minutes. Add butter and milk if desired. Salt to taste.

-while polenta is cooking, sautee onions, add ground veggie meat and zucchini. season with salt, pepper, cumin, merken. add small amount of water if too dry. This combo of ground meat and onions is called ‘pino.’

-oil a pan and put pino on the bottom, then sprinkle with raisins. Optional additions include chopped olives and/or slices of hard boiled eggs (I will probably add these next time.) Then pour the polenta mixture on top and sprinkle with sugar.

-sprinkle with sugar and bake in the oven about 15 minutes on a medium setting, until top is golden brown.

*Note: The zucchini was used only as filler because I didn’t have much carne de soya and that was what was around the house. I bet soyrizo would be awesome in this dish, and other veggies like eggplant or cauliflower would work well too, since they absorb flavors nicely and have a pretty meaty texture…