Cometas en el Cielo

Acabo de terminar este libro que trata sobre la vida de dos niños en Afganistán, y su afición por el día en que los cometas o volantines volaban libremente sobre el cielo azul. Una historia movida por la fidelidad de los amigos, de esos que se tienen a escondidas porque son de diferente clase social o porque no es del agrado de la sociedad. Un libro que conduce a examinar la propia infancia, a deleitarse con las inmensas travesuras que se pueden hacer cuando se tiene a alguien con quién compartir esos momentos. A disfrutar a pesar de las diferencias, y de lo terrible que se puede llegar a ser cuando deliberadamente se engaña al otro como un juego, donde se ponen a prueba los compromisos adquiridos, la lealtad, la verdad y los momentos que nos marcan para siempre.
Es la búsqueda del perdón, de sentir que se podría haber hecho algo en una situación que está fuera del control personal. Es la relación entre padre e hijo esbozada por los triunfos y las derrotas, por las expectativas, por encontrar un rasgo, una característica que los una; tanto así como su propia fragilidad cuando se pone a prueba.
Una historia que conmueve, que lleva a preguntarse sobre el pueblo afgano, de las guerras que perturban el día a día y su pasar por el tiempo. Y como dice el autor en su libro, para mí, por lo menos, Afganistán es uno de esos países que no son fáciles de ubicar en el mapa y que solo entran en la mente de nosotros por los talibanes, por la presencia de países extranjeros, por la impotencia de que la paz no tenga un fruto duradero, por saber que a la distancia hay personas que sufren más de lo que uno es capaz de imaginar.
También nos enfrenta a los momentos difíciles, a las forzosas emigraciones hacia otros países en donde se pueda respirar la libertad, en donde se esté dispuesto a cualquier cosa con tal de seguir adelante, a pesar de no gozar de los privilegios del pasado. Una pena guardada y la alegría del amor correspondido, de no saber lo que pasará a la vuelta de la esquina, de lo que se considera bueno y malo, de no saber dónde nos llevará el destino y si seremos capaces de enfrentarnos a los desafíos.
Es un libro que me impactó por la sencillez de sus palabras con ese aire envuelto de dátiles, moras, nieve, a excremento, a ratas, de balas, de matanzas, de enfrentamientos, de situaciones delicadas que salen a la luz para sorprendernos, para que nos caigan las lágrimas (ya sean de pena o de alegría) y sobre todo, que habla de la esperanza a pesar de todo lo malo que ocurre en el mundo.

Al despertar

Todavía encuentro algo extraño que sea capaz de levantarme temprano después de acostarme como a las tres de la mañana, aunque hoy el día está (hasta el momento) tan feo que lo único que se escucha es el continuo  martilleo de la construcción de enfrente y la música de Aerosmith en mi computador. Está tranquilo, deteniendo por un momento el continuo ajetreo de la primera semana de marzo, de que los colegios y algunas universidades han empezado sus clases. Parece que también anda algún maestro dentro del departamento o mi mamá arreglando algunas cosas y simplemente no queda otra opción que ponerse a escribir para cubrir todos esos pequeños ruidos que, a pesar de que molestan, nos acercan cada vez más a un mejor departamento.

El cielo gris con unas nubes grises flotando sobre los cerros se pueden ver desde mi ventana y me imagino volando como Dorothy en El Mago de Oz a un mundo lleno de color, de esperanza, de estar esperando días mejores (o mejor dicho, que sean así).

Sounds of Silence

In my last post, I ended with giving myself the right to be silent. Throughout the movie we hear this song over and over again, there´s no way you can miss it. It would really help my case if I knew the exact lyrics, but I´ll just google them later and that will come out on my next post. In the beginning, the song seems to reflect on what´s going on Ben´s mind as he flies home after the end of his fourth year at college. He is scared about the meaning of the word future and you can see it right through his eyes, his face, his movements, though delicately. It´s the silence that overwhelms him because his family is already expecting him to know what his next move is going to be.
He just wants to be left alone for a while, but his family have invited over all of their friends to congratulate him on how well he did in college. Ben desperately tries to escape them, but it is a wild goose chase, wherever he goes someone catches up to him and finally he can´t handle it anymore and runs up to his room. This is when he first see Mrs. Robinson and his helpless. He falls right into her game and then he is silent, except when he starts to get a glimpse of the real situation: she wants to seduce him. Ben tries to keep himself together in that house, and luckily, he escapes without any scars.
Then at his 21st birthday, which I´ve got to say is one of the strangest scenes in the entire movie, I don´t know why on earth does his father takes up all that time to get him to get into the pool with that diving suit. But then it gives another chance for silence, this time as he decides whether or not what he´s doing is really worth something: what will it prove if he can stand up at the bottom of the pool? Nothing apparently, but for him is just another chance to block everyone else from this weight of the future that heavily pushes him into despair and I think that´s why he ends up calling Mrs. Robinson, just to run away from all the big deal they make of his turning of age.
Now the silence is when he gets up the nerve to actually sleep with her. And then Ben starts to drift away from the current, he just lies in the pool all day, enjoying himself waiting for a new night with his lover. His future can wait, no one has to find out that yet, so early in life.
The silence comes up when he meets Elaine Robinson and for once starts to listen to what his heart says and pay less attention to his head. We start to get the image of silence associated with sex and also to hear up your own voice, your own thoughts.
The silence that surrounds us is that time where Ben and Elaine are watching at each other in the chapel. It comes up quite unnoticed at first as we see him calling for her and waiting for her to make up her mind: whether she runs away with him or she stays married to the doctor. We get to experience that in a slow motion as she looks at Ben and suddenly starts to shut down her ears to what everyone is saying to her at that moment, and is sublime as she loses herself into her thoughts and decides that she wants something more of life than a forced marriage, she won´t make the same mistake her mother did. She will be free of all that´s expected of her and runs out to meet him as an eagle dives down to its prey. And again we hear the echoes of silence as they seat beside each other, without talking. It´s all over their faces, their gestures of satisfaction, of finally getting the woman he wanted; of getting rid of what society thinks is right for a young woman to be doing.

Hitchcock movies I´ve seen

Most of us have some idea of Hitchcock´s bathroom kill in Psycho, but I happen to be one of those people  who still have not seen it, though I´m looking forward to see it tomorrow.
The first movie I saw was The Birds. At first, I didn´t know what to expect, the only I knew was that it was among the director´s best movies. So, I watched it and really got scared when the birds actually started getting hurt by them. It´s got that edge that I expected from horror movies, with the exception  that this one was not a bloody mess kind of deal (that´s one of the main reasons I don´t like those pictures). The quietness and all the expectation before each attack is there, always present, I was able to feel the tension generating between the characters and the unexpected events. And that scene where the girl is at the phone booth and the birds start hitting that window and you start to see how it slowly breaks, waiting for someone really dreadful to happen to her and well, the outcome is not the one I expected but was thrilled and moved in that moment.
The next one, Vertigo, I happen to came across it last year as I went to my cousin´s wedding, in the airplane. It was one of the movies that looked worth looking after realizing that I was not going to see any of the others. And  just when I was getting to grasp the concept of the movie, the plane landed, therefore, I just had to see it again once the plane took off because it had already hooked me. It was unbelievable to watch this man who couldn´t see from heights because he got dizzy, go to all lengths to figure out what his best friend´s wife was doing while he wasn´t there as he noticed that she couldn´t really remember where she had been. It seemed pretty harmless, with a supernatural kind of thing going on and he ended up falling for her. And then, when he gets accused of murdering her by throwing her off the tower, I started to wonder what had really happened. Everything seemed so circunstancial that he didn´t go to prison but soon learned how he had been fooled, it was well done, and you sort of understand what he decides to make in the end, and of course, overcoming his problem.
And just like an hour ago, I finished watching Rear Window. I got this one from Blockbusterg because I had seen the two before and I knewtI wouldn´t be dissapointed. The funny thing is that I tried to watch it with english subtitles, but I got the feeling that I was missing important parts of it, so I took them off. I listened as hard as I could at a volume that was acceptable because my sister was also in the family room, I found out that I had made the right call. The opening scene seemed so natural, until I saw the man in the wheelchair and his cast, which had the words <<Here lies the broken bones of L.G. Jeffries>>, was kind of funny. And then I noticed the rhythm of his movements from one window to the other, as a peeping tom, and being careful so tha he couldn´t be seen. It was a wonderful concept and then I saw the first glimpse of the movie´s theme, what was that man doing at three a.m. in the morning and all the weird things that called up his attention and soon drew into this game his nurse, Stella, and his girlfriend, Lisa (this is the first movie that I have seen of Grace Kelly, imagine that and without knowing it; meaning I missed it in the credits the first time). Another thing was his cop friend, who was unwilling to believe him because he thought that his friend might be hallucinating because all the facts that he would gather would contradict Jeffries´ statements. I was able to put some pieces together as it unfolded and again, I was surprised at how great the movie was done. And in the end, I saw the funny joke just like at the beginning: the guy had both of his legs broken. I finished watching and the Psycho dvd was there because my mom used the dvd player before me, I just knew that I had to watch that one tomorrow, or today since the clock just turned 0:00.
I think that what is actually real awesome is that now we can actually see those movies because someone has taken up the time to remaster them without losing their magic, their intrigue, their horror, their mistery and the fact that they are unique because nowadays I have seen too many movie trailers that tell me that they are not worth watching because you have seen the same story told over and over again, but these ones make me want to see more of Hitchcock´s movies. That is the real value of it, that they are set in another decade but that at the same time, are timeless.

Brownie Chocolate Cake

Tomorrow is my sister´s birthday, but she is celebrating today with her friends.
After the usual what would you like for your birthday? the next question was what kind of cake would you like?
I asked both questions because I wanted to make sure that her day was special. She liked my choice of present and then she answered that she wanted a chocolate cake with manjar (sweetened condensed milked boiled for an hour) filling.
I told my mother and we agreed that we were going to make the cake, so I started looking for a cake recipe that we had done before (aka foolproof). On Wednesday, my mom remembered that she and one of her sisters had make a cake using brownie as a base for it, but what she did not have was enough time to help me with it, so I did it myself.
I used my brownie recipe and I placed in the oven, with an excellent result but the chocolate chips were kind of big (I learned something new: chocolate chips are alright when you use them for brownies or cookies, but for a cake, it´s much better to use a chocolate bar) and my mom gave me the idea to use the oven rack so that the cake could have three layers. I said ok, but that I was going to do it on the following day.
Thursday came and I woke up early, played on the computer and after a little while I decided I was going to get up and have breakfast so that I could make the cake with my mother, but I went into her room and she was gone. I had no other choice but to do it myself because it had to be done at least one day ahead.
My kitchen is very small, and at one moment I had the cake made the previous evening next to the stove and on top of cookie sheets, a food processor, a wooden cutting board, a knife and the melted chocolate...a complete but manageable chaos.
After making the double recipe, I noticed that I had to take the oven rack out and had nowhere to put it. I simply put all the items that I didn´t need any more on the sink, cleaned the counter and placed a tile to allow the brownie to cool down. The only good thing was that I had made the chocolate spread, which I had to move every other minute to give it a brilliant finish. But I still had to do the filling.
Before I knew it, I was on the move again: putting away all the things that I no longer needed, making space in the fridge to put the cake once it was done, take out the manjar and milk and an orange-flavored rum, and it was kind of wild because I had to take at least two or three turns with my hands before I could place anything  or make room for something else.
And then I had to make the cake. I looked for a serving plate and I took the first one I saw (we´ve only been in this apartment for a couple of months so it´s a bit hard to know exactly where everything is). Now I really had to do some deepful thinking about where every thing was going to be so that I had no problems during the whole process.
I put one part of the brownie base and then with a spoon I put some milk because it would make the cake softer (handmade and not store-bought). Then I added the manjar filling and I continued until I reached layer four. Then I moved on to the chocolate spread, which I started to mix with a wooden spoon until it was ready to cover up the cake. At that moment, I just forgot that I had to take the food processor to cut the nuts and the chocolate chips and take out a wooden cutboard to make the chips smaller, and all the mess in the kitchen  because now I only had to finish before I started with the cleaning up process.
After I placed the cake in the fridge I began to put the dirty items in the sink because I had to take all that had been washed previously and store them. My first victims were the stove racks, that not only required c leaning but also to clean the stove before I returned them to their original place. Then I moved on to the cooking implements -meaning all the ones that I wasn´t able to put in the dishwasher- and then to sweep the floor and to mop it afterwards.
Then I actually looked at the clock and it was about one p.m. so I decided to go take a shower in peace. All that is left to do is for my sister and her friends to try it this evening and then I´ll know if they like it.
It must have been good because half of the cake came back at two a.m.

Pintando la vida

Toda la semana pasada (bueno, no toda, solamente hasta el jueves para ser sincera) vinieron los maestros a pintar el departamento nuevo. El blanco invadió todos los rincones, aunque se tiñó de lila en pieza de Denise.Todo bien, solo faltaba que el lunes vinieran a pintar las puertas y los guardapolvos. Poco a poco se fueron cubriendo los muebles con diario, luego los closets por dentro: sobre los cajones, parecen paquetes a medio terminar; y donde están los colgadores hubo que hacer prácticamente lo mismo, eso sí que toda la ropa tuvo que salir y en este momento miro a mi izquierda y se ve una pila de ropa con colgadores dejando algo de espacio donde dormir esta noche.
Y mientras más se pintaban las puertas, el olor rebotaba y sigue rebotando por todas partes, y por consiguiente, todas están abiertas, convirtiendo a este pequeño lugar de descanso en un laberinto de puertas que no se pueden tocar porque la pintura es de óleo (en otras palabras, no sale de la ropa), unos pequeños lugares donde siquiera poder dormir, teniendo mucho cuidado que los pasillos de acceso estén medios libres para poder ir bailando alrededor sin tener que caerse al suelo.
Eso no quita que la vida siga su flujo normal, después de todo, hay que ir al banco a depositar plata, a despejarse la mente un rato y respirar un aire menos saturado. Hay que salir a comprar pan para las onces, cocinar, lavar e incluso darse el tiempo para ver una película vieja, pero buena y simpática. ¡Qué locura y qué mejora!
También hay que empezar a preparar la fiesta del primer cumpleaños en este departamento, y de nadie menos que Denise. Hay que ver cómo se va a hacer la torta de chocolate con manjar y nueces, cuándo se va a hacer y quién o quiénes la irán a hacer. Otra tendrá que preocuparse de las cosas ricas que se comerán en la fiesta con los amigos y cómo organizarse para que todo esté funcionando bien para estar a más tardar a las ocho en una de las salas de eventos, preparada especialmente para la ocasión.
Y seguimos pintando la vida....

Haciendo babysitting

Ayer, justo cuando salía del cine, saco el celular para sacarle el silencio y me encontré con un par de llamadas perdidas. La primera era de Fernanda, así que naturalmente, la llamé a ella primero y me contó que una de mis primas quería saber si podía hacerle babysitting. Luego llamé al otro número que venía después y resultó que era la Coté Maturana (yo pensé que era Manuela), y me dijo si podía ir a su casa a cuidar a Maite. Me vinieron a buscar y de a poco quise entrar en confianza con Maite para que no fuera tan difícil la salida de su mamá.
Claro que una cosa es esperar que se porte bien, y otra cosa es cuando no te conocen, lo que hace de este trabajo un poquito más difícil, pero que de todos modos se puede hacer. Partí contándole los típicos cuentos de niños: Blancanieves, Rapunzel, Ricitos de Oro, Cenicienta y con eso logré captar la atención de Maite. Sentía cómo me miraba, con los ojos bien abiertos y muy interesada con lo que estaba sucediendo en la historia, interrumpida a momentos por sus <<¿por qué?>>, y a ratos pasaba su lengua por una exquisita cuchara con manjar.
La tele puesta con los monitos, y de a poco, se fue quedando dormida. La llevé a la cama y en el preciso momento en que la acuesto, se despertó y comenzó a llorar preguntando por su mamá. Por supuesto que tuve que tomarla en brazos y tratar de convencerla de que todo estaba bien, incluso la llevé a la cama de Manuela. Pero no era el momento adecuado, lo único que conseguí fue que se devolviera a ver los monitos en la tele.
Mientras ella veía la tele yo trataba de encontrar alguna manera para que se fuera a dormir tranquilita, y no tuve suerte. Le hice la mamadera y como estaba muy caliente, la puse en agua fría hasta que se la pudiera tomar.
Por fin, cerca de las una y media, hice el último intento: le dije a Maite que era hora de que se fuera a acostar para que cuando la mamá llegara ella estuviera durmiendo. La tomé en brazos, le llevé la mamadera y la llevé a su camita. La metí adentro, la tapé bien y le dije que me quedaría con ella hasta que se quedara dormida. No habrán pasado ni treinta segundos cuando Maite finalmente cerró sus lindos ojitos y se entregó a los sueños de Morfeo. Como a las cinco llegaron de vuelta y tanto Coté como Manuela se mostraron asombradas de que hubiera durado despierta hasta esa hora, lo que para mí siempre ha sido natural. Nunca me he podido dormir cuando he cuidado niños; me siento segura sabiendo que ellos duermen en paz y mirarlos de vez en cuando.
Y reconozco que hacía mucho tiempo que no cuidaba niños, y la respuesta de Maite era la que yo más menos esperaba porque no me ubica mucho, pero al fin y al cabo, lo importante es que haya escuchado mis cuentos, se haya tomado la mamadera y se quedara dormida, porque eso era lo que ella necesitaba.

The Lyrics

Just like I said I would do last night (though I just post it), I saw the lyrics of the song Sounds of Silence. It was like I described it. Basically what it says is that people talk and hear things, but are unwilling to reveal the whole truth about themselves. They don´t say what they are really thinking about, that is for their minds only and for the very few who are able to break through that wall. In the end, when everything is quiet, when we get rid of all the noise, then we are truly listening to our deepest thoughts and we keep them to ourselves because we think no one will understand how we feel.
We believe it´s better if we don´t say things that may sound innapropiate for the people around us (or society in general) because we struggle to find our place in the world. In the movie, it was in those moments that we saw the true nature of the characters, who was lying, who was jealous, who were they in love with. And until they saw a sign they were able to express it outloud and let the other people to wander about what they said.

The Graduate (1967)

I just can´t believe I just saw this amazing movie today. I mean, I am wondering why I never had the urge to see it  before. And I have not words to describe it. All I can say is that it´s worth watching, not only because of the relationship between Ben, Mrs. Robinson and Elaine Robinson, but because it is a first glimpse of how do you wish your future to be and who you want to spend it with.
I like Dustin Hoffman´s character: he is a little bit naive and scared of how his future is going to be like because people around him somehow are forcing him to decide in that precise moment what will happen next. Ben has never faced that kind of decision before, and the pressure is very overwhelming.
On the other hand, we have Mrs. Robinson, who is only interested in Ben because of this thing they have together and seems to be so sure of herself. She is the seducer, and she plays the part extremely well, but the minute that Ben becomes aware that sex is just not enough and wants to know a little bit more about her, she is the one that´s inexperienced. The roles are reversed, Ben is the adult there, he is the one that feels that she is there with him trying to run away from something and shockinly...it´s her marriage!
Why did she get married? Because she was pregnant...that would be one of the reasons, but is that enough for her? Of course not, she appears to want more and yet, she prefers to be alone with a husband than to be by herself. She is unhappy by choice. Sure you could argue that it was because of the decade, because that´s what you were supposed to do back then when you got pregnant, but when you really take a closer look at it, no one forced her to do it, she took it as a chore, as a mechanical thing, as the only solution for her problem.
And then, we have Elaine Robinson, the girl that Ben falls for. She can´t be his true love, mainly because of his  sexual relationship with his mother, and the harder he pretends not to see her, his parents push him into a date with her. And then he takes her to that awful place, trying to present himself as a very bad guy who´s not worth taking a second look, he is shaken up by the tears that wash down her face. Once all the music and the show and the noise are gone, Ben is able to listen to her and Elaine is willing to listen to him. That´s the whole conflict of the movie: how could Ben have sex with Mrs. Robinson and fall for her daughter? Why is she forbidden to him? Is it because he is not good for her as her parents say? Or is there something else? Maybe they don´t want her to marry for love but rather from someone who can provide for her. A man that will be able to satisfy her economic needs but not her heart.
Mrs. Robinson knows what it feels like to be in a loveless marriage, but she wants her daughter to have the same thing as she does. Isn´t that selfish or what? She simply does not seem to care and in the end, Elaine is able to silence all the people around her and take a deep look into her heart, her soul and choose between a real possibility of being happy and a good marriage with nothing in common. The choice she makes comes from within her and decides to fight for her choice, to think that she deserves something better than just settle with a man she barely knows.
It was a really incredible movie that took me a while to see, but I liked it because of its beauty, its way of showing emotions versus desire; the need for love, the pressure to being someone that everybody likes, the pretending-to-be-happily married couple in comparison to Ben´s family, and a whole lot of things that are running through my mind just now but I willing choose to listen to the sounds of silence

Cielos grises

Los cielos grises nos anuncian que ya se nos fue el verano, que se acabaron las temperaturas por sobre los 30 grados. Por un lado, no deja de ser agradable el hecho de que ahora se pueda caminar por las calles sin que tener que preocuparse por los lentes de sol o buscar el amparo de los árboles o quizás, ir a comprar una botella de agua para calmar la sed. Y por otro, es una sensación cruel del frío que penetra por todas partes, incluso si vamos bien abrigados; significa que finalmente ha partido la locura del colegio y de la universidad, que es marzo y que debiéramos esperar que a esta altura se produjeran estos cambios...¡si tan solo fueran más paulatinos!
Es hora de sacar las ropas de invierno: los chalecos, las parkas, los pantalones, los calcetines, las medias, las camisetas que han pasado seis meses desde que los usamos por última vez. También es tiempo de enfrentar nuevos desafíos, ya sea en lo laboral, en los estudios, en lo personal y ponerle mucha energía porque ya no tenemos al sol que muchas veces es tan fuerte que no nos deja ni pensar. El otoño y el invierno son épocas de movimiento, donde solo se necesita una razón para salir a caminar (que no esté lloviendo, y si lo está, con un paraguas, esperando la clemencia de los autos para que no nos mojen mientras pasan al lado de nosotros), salir de la casa para huir del olor a pintura, para despejarse la cabeza o simplemente, para dejar un rato el computador, ir a buscar una película que no pudiste verla en su momento, disfrutar del cine, quizás sería bueno una visita a un museo (de arte, historia natural, precolombino, etc), ir a comprar un lápiz pasta para reemplazar el que se acabó o se reventó.
Inventa un millón de razones para salir, para ir al gimnasio y recordar lo bueno del verano. Hay que mirar hacia lo alto de la Cordillera de Los Andes y esperar a que caigan las primeras lluvias o nieve que deleitan al transeúnte o a la persona que está en un departamento. Es hora de ayudar al que lo necesita, dentro de lo posible para cada uno porque lo importante es dar algo de sí hacia esa otra persona que la está pasando mal.

Mocha-espresso fudge

Today I wanted to be creative, to do something other than stay all day in the computer and my mom asked whether we should go out for lunch, but since my sisters woke up late, she said that maybe I could make something sweet for a coffee-break.
I moved into my apartment and I discovered among my things a book about Christmas and there was this recipe called Mocha-espresso fudge that I wanted to try, so I thought that it would be a good idea to bake it today. I gathered up all the ingredients, followed the instructions step by step and waited for an hour to see the results.
When I went to check it, it was still kind of sticky, so I put it in my fridge for a while and left it a little bit longer and nothing happened. I told my mom that I was unlucky making the fudge so she suggested that maybe I could make individual cakes adding eggs, milk, flour and baking powder.
I sifted the flour with the baking powder and I set it aside. Then I beat the eggs and I added the fudge mixture, and then I started to add the flour, and when it got too hard to handle I just added a little bit of milk. Made the cakes and put them in the oven for about 35 minutes.
The result was good, considering that I kind of re-invented the recipe. Of course it wasn´t one of my best jobs but they tasted ok, though they stuck to their pan.
I really like baking sweets and I try to look once in a while for new recipes and like most of the time, this one didn´t turn up like it was supposed to be. But I still had fun, even adding the extra ingredients and making something new, different, never done by me before and I just wanted to share this experience because you never know what might happen when you do something for the first time.
Some times you´ll get lucky and you will get the outcome you expected, and on every few occassions it won´t. So instead of feeling discouraged and blame it on the recipe or on anybody, write it somewhere (because you´ll want to know what you did wrong so that you won´t make the same mistake again) or memorize it, and see what you can come up with. Sometimes it´s a new recipe or anything else you want, but never lose sight of your purpose because wherever it took you, it´s an experience that might be worth doing over and over and over again.
So I said goodnight sharing my baking experience with a very sweety ending: Mocha-espresso fudge mini-cakes (I came up with that name just know, so see if you can come up with a different one).

Desconocido

Hoy hice algo que no se me había pasado por la cabeza: decidí ir a ver una película en el mismo mesón donde venden las entradas porque la que yo quería ya no estaba en cartelera. El nombre era Desconocido, con la trama de un hombre que sufre un accidente automovilístico y que tras estar cuatro días en coma, encuentra con que alguien ha adoptado su identidad.
Mucha acción y mejor que la última de Johnny Depp, El Turista. Ahora pienso en una línea del personaje principal que decía "cómo vuelvo a recordar quién era si tengo el conflicto entre los recuerdos que tengo y la persona que yo sé que soy". Supongo que es como lo que le tiene que pasar a la gente que tiene amnesia temporal, pero también se me plantea como un interesante desafió: ¿qué haría yo en esa situación?
Lo primero es tratar de reconciliar los recuerdos porque esos son mi pasado, pero como todavía no me acuerdo si de verdad corresponden a mi vida, lo único que me queda es investigar quién soy y cómo llegué a esa situación tan extraña, y de todas maneras, si eso me ayuda a conseguir a un hombre buenmozo, ¡para qué decir que me encanta la idea!
Si se diera el caso, como en la película, de que mi nombre no existe, entonces eligiría un nombre distinto, algo que de alguna manera me sirviera para empezar de nuevo. Una nueva persona, imaginada por mí, que tuviera una vida distinta a la mía suena lo más ideal del mundo. Eso sí que tendría que ser un comienzo en una ciudad entretenida, con cultura, no sé, quizás Nueva York o alguna ciudad europea donde pueda seguir escribiendo y al mismo tiempo ir descubriendo cosas de otros pueblos. Me acompañaría ese hombre que me ha ayudado a sortear todas las dificultades previas y formaríamos una familia.
Ya se me viene a la cabeza ir recorriendo los dos por las islas de Grecia o visitar Marruecos, donde el aire seguro que huele a especias o bañándonos en las aguas tibias del Mediterráneo durante el verano y en el invierno nos quedaríamos en algún lugar para poder educar a nuestros niños. Toda una vida llena de aventuras, tal como ha sido hasta ahora, por lo menos.
A todo esto, la película Desconocido está situada en Berlín, que me hizo recordar a mi hermana Loreto, que vive en Barcelona y que ha estado un par de veces en esa ciudad. Fue un momento especial, casi como si estuviera viendo la ciudad desde sus ojos y también viéndola por primera vez porque nunca he ido a Alemania.

Japan´s earthquake and tsunami

Today, exactly one year ago, we had the strongest replicas since the February 27th eartquake in Chile. This morning I woke up and started my computer, hoping that this would be a wonderful day. Suddenly, I overheard my mom talking to my sister Fernanda about the 8.9 earthquake that hit Japan yesterday and the tsunami that came afterwards; she had heard this from my brother at five a.m. since he is in Vancouver, another area with tsunami alerts.
And then, I remembered that I had a dream last night, and this was totally weird: in my dream, Tokyo was hit with an earthquake and only thirty two people had survived and then this huge tsunami came rushing forth. I sat up on my bed, desperately wanting to know how on earth could I have dreamt that and wake up to a similar reality. It struck me so bad that I went to have breakfast and I noticed that the TV was on and there were reporting on the earthquake.
It was nerve-wracking to see the buildings collapsing and people in the streets running, trying to avoid the falling pieces. Then I saw the effects of the tsunami and I just couldn´t believe the damage it had done. I also saw the footage of the fire in the nuclear plant and how they were unable to cool it down and that they were already evacuating people within three miles of it. I saw ships, cars and house parts floating away to the ocean and this overwhelming feeling of being unable to help them in some way or another.
Some tsunami waves have already hit Indonesia and Hawaii, and though they are nothing compared to what happened in 2004 and 2010, I am glad that people are more aware of how to take precautions, of moving to safe places and that is something very important. It can simple be translated into all those countries, my own included, that experience that phenomena are assuming responsibility to ensure safety, to give people some kind of escape.
 I am wondering right now whether that dream was some sort of a premonition in some strange way of the quake that hit Arica, Chile yesterday and how people were scared of having the big earthquake that has been predicted to appear in that area.
My prayers go now to all those japanese that have died and the ones that have not yet been found, and of course, to all the survivors who have lost their loved ones. To them is my sympathy today, to send them hope, a light on the horizon, that people all over the world (me included) are worried about them and that we will help them, just like they have helped other countries in their time of need.
I don´t know how many people will be reading this blog today, but if you happen to come by, please leave your comments, a prayer, a message of hope to Japan and with it, will be able to be a strong community waiting for the first means to help them and this is one of them.
I say goodbye for now, but I think I´ll probably post some update later.

A portrait of the artist as a young man: how I started to read it and comments so far

The  first time that I read James Joyce´s A portrait of the artist as a young man was in spanish.The book was good enough for me to finish it, but somewhere along the way I found out that there were some meanings lost in translation so I undertook the task of finding the book in English, which was not so easy to do in Santiago as there were only two bookstores where you could find books in english. I got lucky, t here were only three books left and I just had to buy it (now it only sells school books).
When I got home I found a small notebook and I decided to take quotes and analyze them, as well as finding the meaning of new words, using an english dictionary. For me, it has been a good way to know whether I am understanding the book.
At the beginning, you have the voice of a child with a playful set of words, and I knew that I would like it as I moved along the pages. All those tiny details that make your reading worthwhile, looking through the eyes of a kid. Amazing result! Includes the good and bad ways of dealing with school and the teachings of the Church.
I was able to imagine feeling the same devoutness and the fear of going to hell as our lead character, Stephen Dedalus, does. Is could not help cursing the teachers for bringing upon him and his fellow mates the punishments for misbehaving, it would absolutely raise up some hairs nowadays.
I was able to see the changes that happen to him, not only from changing schools as well as the dramatic fall to poverty, and how to deal with that new reality. A blow in the face, falling-off kind of thing that leads his family to a new town and new kinds of mischief, of course!
I enjoyed as Stephen discovered sins as he grew and the depth of his remorse after that, specially after what the priest had to say about what happened in hell if a person does not behave according to what the Bible says. Really creepy way of making yourself familiar with religion: through fear and a particular understanding of what is written in it.
As he continues to grow, you can see how his way of thinking changes and assumes a more grown-up voice. I felt his sincere intention to join the clergy as well as when he actually takes the time to search deep into his soul to know whether it is his true calling or not, and well I was not really surprised at the outcome because he  wasn´t that interested in following strict rules and social behavior conducts. I was able to sense his relief of being sent to the university instead and how his way of acting towards people changes drastically.
He feels that he is above everybody else because he has education and to disdain them just because of their accent, their way of answering to the teacher´s question.
This book so far has been a quest to find the artist within me, and since I have not yet finished it, I will leave the rest of my comments when I am done with it and hopefully you´ll read them as you´re doing now.

Al despertarse

Cada vez que me despierto, siento algo diferente. Ya sean las primeras luces del sol de verano o el grisáceo cielo en los días más fríos, el olor del mar trepando suavemente por mi ventana junto al suave murmullo de las olas, el aroma a menta del bosque una vez que la lluvia ha atravesado todas sus hojas; es un nuevo día que comienza. Otra cosa, tengo que reconocer, es el hecho preciso de levantarse. En los días de verano es normal que quiera salir corriendo, lejos de ese calor humeante que penetra en todos los resquicios de mi cuerpo y de mi pieza; a diferencia del invierno, en que digo "unos cinco minutitos más" para acostumbrarse al frío y claro, me quedo profundamente dormida o me meto en el computador, lo que como consecuencia, solo logro volver a la realidad nuevamente cuando miro el reloj y me acuerdo de que tenía una hora importante y es como si una ola me golpeara la frente. Todo se viene de golpe: el desayuno, ¿qué me voy a poner para ir? (seguido luego por la inevitable pregunta de si lo que tengo pensado lo tendré limpio o no; si no, reviso cien mil veces el closet hasta que encuentro la ropa adecuada), de cuánto tiempo tengo para llegar al paradero de la micro y si alcanzaré a llegar a la hora al otro lado. Primero, la ducha y después todo lo demás, especialmente si es que voy de camino a una entrevista o tengo una hora al doctor.
Si por otro lado, no tengo apuro, voy y me preparo el desayuno...quizá será en la pieza, en la cocina o el comedor y me relajo. Pondré algo de música, como la que escucho ahora, y si estoy con ánimos, escribiré un rato en el computador o simplemente juego hasta que llega ese momento en que ya no es posible estar un minuto más en la cama porque el cuerpo me dice que ya es suficiente de flojear y hacer algo más movido.
Un pie se levanta como si pesara una tonelada y después fluye una energía que me hace tirar todas las sábanas lejos y escapar como si un lobo me estuviera persiguiendo.

Winged Creatures

Just the day when my facebook page collapsed and I found myself watching at the TV again. I saw a whole pack of movies: I started with The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, then I moved on to see the last half of The Holiday; in between I saw American Idol; and then into this movie called Winged Creatures.
I was surprised because I thought the movie was about something else...maybe kind of supernatural stuff or something like that. It was a story about what happens to people who have experienced some kind of disaster (in this movie, it was a shooting; but it can also be applied to storms, hurricanes, earthquakes, volcano eruptions, and so on) and how they move around in their lives after it.
There were a couple of good actors in the movie: Kate Beckinsale, Forest Whitaker and Dakota Fanning. It was interesting seeing how many different kinds of reaction people can have after these events. You have the typical person who sees that somebody they love is in some kind of trouble, but instead of looking for the help they need, they insist that they should neither see nor talk to somebody because it doesn´t help. I wonder how people can think like that, specially when the person you care is unable to speak because of a trauma. And yet, I was able to see this girl that even though she was dealing with her own grief, hatred and anger come to see her best friend and stop him from killing himself.
What really scared me was that doctor who, with all his best intentions, gives his wife some medications mixing them with food, not being fully aware of the consequences until it´s too late and then have to run all the way to save his wife´s life. Couldn´t he be more stupid? I mean, he was a doctor, he should have known better and he was lecturing the waitress about how to care for her kid. Very hyppocrite I think.
Annie, Dakota Fanning´s film name, gave an overwhelming sense of disconnection with reality. She hung on to  her faith beliefs, although they had been forgotten, to justify her father´s death and try to ignore what had really happened. I could see that she had a problem as she kept on gathering followers but there was something in her eyes that showed the nasty, ugly truth: she wasn´t being sincere or really wanted to relive her experience. Who wouldn´t after what she saw? It was hard for her to face how her dad had been murdered and learned that people on extreme situations, no matter how tough or brave they are, still have fears and react differently: she just couldn´t understand why her father had wet his pants while he was trying to save them. She was expecting something else and she felt ashamed of what she saw, and I was taken by the way her mother talks to her and her friend to assure them that it wasn´t their fault, that it wasn´t ok to omit facts just because you didn´t like what you see (maybe she was the only true grown up with enough sense to realize how serious it was).
On the other hand, you have this man who has left gambling for good but dives right unto it as he tries to understand what happened. His lucky number seven was only fit for one night, and one night only and then he just couldn´t stop gambling and ended up mixing with a couple of shark loaners. He should have followed his own advice- quit when you are winning- instead of getting into deeper troubles. It struck me how he left the hospital, practically unnoticed and not even telling his daughter where he was headed. It seemed like he went all in because he couldn´t manage the idea that he was also dying of cancer; I don´t know but he seemed to have problems handling both difficult situations.
I just wish I´ve had some kind of experience like that, so that I could also relate, but luckily I haven´t. The closest thing that I was able to see was my sister after the 2010 earthquake in Chile. She was alone in our apartment and she had a total break; she even had to be a couple of weeks in the hospital because she couldn´t talk well (she just spoke like a million words per second) and started forgetting where the bathroom was, and even couldn´t remember where the store were at the mall. It took her all last year to recover from it, so I can say, for sure, that one thing is experiencing the disaster and another is to be a spectator, and that it sucks to be the last one because you have to rely on other people to do that (but in the end, I realized that was just what she needed).

Reviewing movies

Yesterday I went to see the movie Biutiful, nominated for Best Foreign Film at the Oscars, with Javier Bardem.
It was very good but also very disturbing as it brings out to light the dark characters of this world who do what it takes to survive, even if it involves going over other people´s rights. It was the raw, cruel reality of so many illegal  people and the conflict between the good and bad things that they are willing to do.
It brought tears  down my cheeks, not because of Bardem´s looks (that´s what my mom says) but rather as his conflicting emotions between what he considers to be good and bad, and dealing with a terminal illness. And yet, the film is captivating.
I guess it´s not for everybody´s taste because you have to be prepared for what you are going to see in it. I saw it all, but my mom said that quite a few people left as they could not longer see the horrors of it. I knew what it was about, I mean the general idea, and went to see it because it had a good review and it´s nice to see that some directors can show us a different reality than most of us.

Antes de acostarse

Estoy sentada en mi cama, tratando de hacer que este blog sea lo más atractivo posible para que me den ganas de escribir en él cada vez que quiera. Para hacer eso, es necesario tener tiempo para elegir el color perfecto de fondo, que la letra que anuncie cada entrada me atraiga (eso es importante, especialmente cuando tienes posibilidades de escoger nuevas: times new roman y arial están bien cuando se redactan documentos o se tiene que entregar algún informe, pero no son entretenidas para escribir). Y por supuesto, que las letras se destaquen y no sean del mismo color del fondo porque ahí pierden toda su gracia. Me encuentro pensando en qué voy a hacer mañana, pero en realidad me preparo para cerrar mis ojos bajo el cielo sin estrellas de Santiago mientras estoy en facebook y si tengo tiempo me gustaría ver algún episodio de alguna serie que me he perdido en el cambio al nuevo departamento. Andaba la Dora, la gata de la casa dando vueltas por mi pieza hace un rato y veo que ya se ha ido (no me extraña porque anda medio obsesionada con unas colchas para la cama que le regaló Berni a mi mamá para su cumpleaños).