I can't recall the moment itself
When living became so heartfelt.
Living...yes... not merely existing
Like people with no faces.
Suddenly I began to see myself
Free of scars and with no welt
Eager to soar and not resisting
The lure of your embraces.
Now I am my own mountain shelf
With no fears and a thicker pelt
Reclaiming my soul with persisting
Reminders of past faces and places.
lunes, 24 de agosto de 2009
domingo, 9 de agosto de 2009
MY FIRST TASTE OF MAPLE SYRUP
To Jodi White
I can not ask you to even imagine what it feels to start all over again. It is like transplanting an old tree to its new soil. Or being under a kind of Protection Witness Program with a whole new identity where nobody knows who you are.
More or less that how I felt during my first days in my new home. After almost twenty years still carved in my memory all those wonders and expectations that I felt during those unforgettable times. But looking back I had to admit they were
mostly good times.
Of course coming from a country where English is not your first language, I had to attend school and enroll in ESL programs. It was there when I met some of the most compassionate and noble people in my life; until today I can say I have not met people with such moral calibre; and there is where my story begins.
I remember waking up one day in January after a week of arrival and looking outside the window, and stopping in time, just for a second, to admire with awe all that whiteness that covered everything around. I jumped out of bed and went outside to the street and I remember grabbing the snow with my two hands. I held it for a while just to experience the sensation of that cold white frozen dust. The only way I can compare is when somebody who was born here goes to a tropical beach for the first time and experience the sun and the saltiness of the water from the ocean. I am not sure because it is not the same but maybe the sensation of that first time is similar.
I remember going to school and trying to learn the language with the help of the teachers, by the way they preferred to be called instructors or facilitators instead of teachers. One of them was Jodi White, a woman with exceptional interpersonal skills, easy to talk to and very empathetic. She had dirty blond hair, a pair of lively blue eyes, and a fabulous smile that filled the whole classroom; maybe into her thirties and with one goal in mind: to make sure we learn English.
In one particular occasion the whole class was going on a trip to a farm that until today I don't remember where it is only that is somewhere in the north outside the city. The instructors were taking us to see how the maple syrup is made. The plan was to go in the wilderness in the middle of winter to observe how the maple trees are bled using an ancient native technique, all the process that include the boiling until the syrup is ready. We had two options: either bring along something to eat there, or bring some money to buy pancakes and then pour the maple syrup that was just made. I decided to bring something to eat. When the time came to go inside and start eating pancakes, Jodi noticed that I was not participating. She approached me and said: "Are you going to eat pancakes?".
With my broken English I replied: "No Jodi, I brought my own lunch with me"
She insisted saying: "Come on, have some with us"
I said: "No thanks Jodi, I told you I ate my lunch already".
She looked at me putting her arm around me saying: "I insist, come and join us"
I was about to say "no" again when in the middle of my sentence she stamped a kiss on my cheek. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. She disarmed completely. I couldn't say a word and with compliance and a feeling of blushes in my cheeks I sat down and joined the group.
I like to remember this passage in my life because very few times I have experienced genuine compassion from another human being. And this occasion was one of them.
THE END.
I can not ask you to even imagine what it feels to start all over again. It is like transplanting an old tree to its new soil. Or being under a kind of Protection Witness Program with a whole new identity where nobody knows who you are.
More or less that how I felt during my first days in my new home. After almost twenty years still carved in my memory all those wonders and expectations that I felt during those unforgettable times. But looking back I had to admit they were
mostly good times.
Of course coming from a country where English is not your first language, I had to attend school and enroll in ESL programs. It was there when I met some of the most compassionate and noble people in my life; until today I can say I have not met people with such moral calibre; and there is where my story begins.
I remember waking up one day in January after a week of arrival and looking outside the window, and stopping in time, just for a second, to admire with awe all that whiteness that covered everything around. I jumped out of bed and went outside to the street and I remember grabbing the snow with my two hands. I held it for a while just to experience the sensation of that cold white frozen dust. The only way I can compare is when somebody who was born here goes to a tropical beach for the first time and experience the sun and the saltiness of the water from the ocean. I am not sure because it is not the same but maybe the sensation of that first time is similar.
I remember going to school and trying to learn the language with the help of the teachers, by the way they preferred to be called instructors or facilitators instead of teachers. One of them was Jodi White, a woman with exceptional interpersonal skills, easy to talk to and very empathetic. She had dirty blond hair, a pair of lively blue eyes, and a fabulous smile that filled the whole classroom; maybe into her thirties and with one goal in mind: to make sure we learn English.
In one particular occasion the whole class was going on a trip to a farm that until today I don't remember where it is only that is somewhere in the north outside the city. The instructors were taking us to see how the maple syrup is made. The plan was to go in the wilderness in the middle of winter to observe how the maple trees are bled using an ancient native technique, all the process that include the boiling until the syrup is ready. We had two options: either bring along something to eat there, or bring some money to buy pancakes and then pour the maple syrup that was just made. I decided to bring something to eat. When the time came to go inside and start eating pancakes, Jodi noticed that I was not participating. She approached me and said: "Are you going to eat pancakes?".
With my broken English I replied: "No Jodi, I brought my own lunch with me"
She insisted saying: "Come on, have some with us"
I said: "No thanks Jodi, I told you I ate my lunch already".
She looked at me putting her arm around me saying: "I insist, come and join us"
I was about to say "no" again when in the middle of my sentence she stamped a kiss on my cheek. I never felt so vulnerable in my life. She disarmed completely. I couldn't say a word and with compliance and a feeling of blushes in my cheeks I sat down and joined the group.
I like to remember this passage in my life because very few times I have experienced genuine compassion from another human being. And this occasion was one of them.
THE END.
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