It's live.

www.kevtronics.blogspot.com

don't miss it. it's totally inane.

see you over there, k?

kevster

there's some movement afoot.

I will no longer be posting to the webaddress guateistrad.blogspot.com.

Guate was rad. It's time to move on. I wonder who's gonna come across any of this new bullshit.

New web address: www.kevtronics.blogspot.com

Something worth posting:

I saw finally The Devil and Daniel Johnston last night. It gets a high recommend.

The movie reminded me that I am kind of crazy. Probably diagnosably crazy.

It also reminded me that I am not that crazy.

Done spellchecking,
-the kevil

A Monster That Lives in My Chest.

First and foremost, I want to say that Meerkat Manor is the most brilliant television show in ten years. Heart-wrenching, charming, furry. Can you think of anything/one else like that? Anyone?

Second and less foremost, I took a trip to Lincoln, NE with my mother on monday. That place has produced a couple of my best friends, and a family that I someday hope to belong to by adoption. It also is home to a disproportionate number of crazy people. This trip, I met a Russian military plane enthusiast who "loved him some gyros", listened to a man talk about stoplights and how they benefit/damage society for a full half-hour, and waited at a crosswalk next to a man flapping his harms like some sort of man-bird. Birdman? I could not resist the urge to glance over. He looked back at me with an expression that really only said, "May I help you, sir?"

Lincoln is way cooler than any place people would expect to find in Nebraska. I love the Midwest. You should too.

Now! To the point!

I had an echocardiograph this morning. Apparently, as I found out before I left the America, I has a hart-merr-merr. Now, this exists concurrently with intermittent emotional pangs, heretofore the only heart murmurs that I was aware of having. An echocardiograph is like a chest sonogram. I have now seen and heard my heart in all of its glorious (?) detail.

Observations of note:
My heart makes some weird fucking noises. My favorite was one that sounded like when you put a finger in your mouth, puff out your cheeks, and pull. But it was happening over and over again alongside other sounds. Basically it was a "whoosh, whoosh, POP" kind of thing. Silly life organ.

The visual representation of those sound waves looks like the continent of Africa.

My heart with its various valves and other pieces looks like a wide assortment of monstrosities. Things I thought I saw included: A headless person whose chest read "v" for victory everytime he saluted with his non-head, a dancing clip-art lady, one of those squishy things that's really hard to hold on to. a potato, a vagina, an amoeba under a microscope, a totally inappropriate symbol for human love, a clapping contest.

A dude also rubbed some pleasant smelling-gel all over my chest. I can't tell if I never want that to happen again or if I should run back to the office screaming about how I desperately need another exam.

Gooooooood Morning!
-kvn

As far as being coninued goes, this is being....

Given an abundance of time and abundance of thoughts, I've decided to continue this endeavor. At some point, I am meaning to change it's name and web-address, but for the time being, it will retain this monicker. I like that I'm referring to IT like it were some sort of closet skeleton monster. Now, on with IT.

Being in Manhattan Kansas makes me anxious. Maybe because of the structure of the town, maybe because of it's population makeup, maybe because of the way my family functions, I'm constantly teetering on the edge of something. For the first week or so of being back, I usually sort of enjoy this feeling of uneasyness, but after two, it becomes unbearable. This town makes me tired, uneasy, and grumpy at all times. I eat in the middle of the night. I fight with whoever wants to fight. I'm mean to babies. That shit's unacceptable.

The winter makes it worse.

Don't work for your mother, if that happens your boss is always around, even at night.

I just watched a kid yell at his mom from across the table about how he didn't need her anymore, and how once he goes to college he won't need them ever again, and how it's gonna feel so good to be independent. How she needs to get out of his face. Good for him. I just had those feelings dissipate sometime within the last year and a half. That's a really good feeling I really wanted to tell that kid that, actually, he does need his parents and the whiny way he's yelling at his mom means he loves her and that he'll feel stupid about all this later. But he needs this now. I at least hope his mom knows that she should just wait it out.

Which reminds me, my parents and I are getting along for the first time in 7 or 8 years. It's very strange and very nice. They buy me stuff, and give hugs. Yay hugs.

If Mitt Romney wins the nomination, I will shoot myself in the face. If he wins the election, I will shoot myself in the other face. What a jerk that guy is.

It appears that everyone in Guatemala is safe and sound. I am glad of that, what a nice experience. However, despite the fact that I have yet to visit other countries besides Mexico and Canada yet, I am pro-USA. It is a nation full of backwards, selfish, xenophobes, but, the diversity of culture and the beauty of the country and the diner food I like. Very much. So there, I said it. I'll say it again. USA! USA! Baaaaaaaaaam.

Speaking of Guatemala, these baby:


have gone to the United States with new parents.

This baby:
will hopefully be in North Carolina with his parents of Puerto Rican and Canadian descent, respectively.

That's too much. This will end abruptly...Now.

Quiero amor y quiero amar,
-kevrick kevman.

it's all over but the flying

Well,

I leave tomorrow evening. This week has been suck-ified. Got some bad news from some people.

Feeling kinda sickly. Spent today in my princess-themed room, listening to Albert Ayler trying to put keys spelling "bad mothafucka" across the homerow of my laptop, realizing very quickly that, first of all, that's way to many letters, and second, there are 3 A's in those words. Whatever though, no regrets. If you don't understand why I would do something like that (I do a lot of things like that) you don't understand me. That, is all I have to say about that.

Some notes on shit that's gone down in the last couple of days.

Alvaro Colom is the new president. I was happy he won, even though he will likely be only a little less sucky than the other guy would have been. I don't think I ever mentioned that the UNE equivalent to the Firm Hand's fist was a cute little dove movement using both hands. I think Bone Thugs n' Harmony used to do something roughly similar.

I went to the polling place with Bryslie and watched her vote. The ballot is a piece of paper wit pictures of both dudes. You draw a big X through the one you want. Something else that was a bit odd about the process is that they televise the counting. With a guy holding up the paper, saying "UNE" or "PP" and putting it in one of two piles. I totally watched for 2 hours.

Nobody was at the polling place. Like NOBODY. The candidates were apparently both so bad that voting was down all across Guatemala. D-pressing

Apparently, to make sure that no one votes twice, they mark your finger with some kind of long-lasting paint. Also, it apparently smells funny. A scenario in which giant masses of people walk sniffing their fingers and onlookers note that it must be election time was easily my favorite part of Guatemala Picks the Less Shitty Candidate 2k7.

I don't think there's anything else that I thought was particular noteworthy about being here for the elections. Except for maybe Hugo Chavez's decision to amend the Venezuelan Constitution so kids under the age of 18 can vote. That guy's a crazy. His country's definitely going to end up as some kind of skateboard dystopia, with all kinds of graffitti, and pizza, and.... Mark Wahlberg.

I ate at a nice restaurant, got some people some gifts, spent all my money.

I don't think the people I stayed with really liked having me around too much, we're not doing anything to note my departure. I haven't been back to the office since I went to live with Bryslie. That's probably ok.

What a weird trip.

First hot shower in a month? Why yes, please!

/kevinnnnn

¡dewey defeats truman!

I feel like I´ve been posting a little bit too frequently as of late, I hope whoever happens to be reading this bothers to read the posts below, they´re better. The reason for more posts is that I have done more things and have about equal access to a computer. So there you go. It´s probably also because I´m about to put this thing out to pasture because I don´t feel like I have much to write about day-to-daily (unless there are requests for continued blogging, I´ve ruled out ultimate blog)

Other things of note.

Every morning I drink either fresh lime-aid or fresh liquified pineapple. If you´ve never done either of these things, make it happen. M-mmmm bitch!

I spent what I´d basically considered my last fun night in Guatemala attending a fancy graduation party for a guy followed by driving around listening to a cd I brought with me with the windows down.

Guatemala city night+high altitude stars+isuzu rodeo+will oldham=e-x-x-x-cellent

otherwise.

Welp, the Guatemalan Elections are today. Some final observations:

-Most of the people don´t seem to have decided who to vote for, even on the day of. Everyone still talks about how shitty the canidadates are, but they´ll vote regardless because it´s a kind of duty.

-Rich people favor la Mano Dura, despite the fact that I have not seen any public announcements of plans to do anything besides boost the security of the country. They´re tired of getting robbed.

-Less rich people seem to want to vote for the other party, the UNE. Up until about a week ago, I hadn´t met anyone who was sure. Then I talked to both of the maids that work in the houses I´ve stayed at. Both voted for Colom in the first round of elections. Reina´s going to again, but Maria changed her mind because the head of this household told her to. On top of that, the ManoDura=dictadura grafitti is pretty abundant. I´d really like to get some fotos of it, but no opportunities to be all turist-i in Guate´s business district.

-A fair amount of people I´ve talked to have very little efficacy regarding their vote because they feel that voting is a farce and the US and other foreign powers do way more to influence the elections than they ever could. There is a deeply ingrained, historically grounded reason for this. Bummer.

-Papers show the candidates in a dead heat, in terms of preliminary polls. Colom would still be my candidate if I lived here.

-Ultimately, I believe the whole thing will come down to who has the best reaggaeton song in their commercials and accompanying their flag waving squads on street corners. Sadly, I think Perez-Molina´s is probably the fresh-er of the two.

I sum up Decision 2007 Guatemala as: 50% repression, 50% corruption, 100% jamz.

Alright, time to go punch that ballot (illegally!)

-kevron.

dirty, sexy money

I have no idea what that is. I saw it advertised on some trains in Chicago. And I thought it looked stupid, so I decided to title this blogpost after it in the hopes that it would be a well-received popular culture reference. Oh well.

To my credit, it does have something to do with the content of this message.

I´ve been meaning to write about the currency here (quetzales) for a while, but I´ve usually forgotten due to wanting to include something more pressing or more (less?) humorous. Two things have struck me about the money here.

Number 1/ (goddamn spanish keyboards have all of the symbols mixed around. The / was near impossible to find. That is not what I´ve noticed about the currency.

Number 1a. All of the bills here look like they´ve been chewed on by all of the babies I´ve met so far (8 of them, full time job). Some of the ones I have been moist. Literally. Moist. Even with all sorts of fancy clear plastic windows, holographic strips, watermarks, and images of Cal Ripken Jr., the money is still incredibly gross. I always wash my hands after I pay for something, and I´m not even a germophobe. I´ve never felt like this about American Dollars, even though I know that they are also totally disgusting (the owner of the Cliquot Club told me about his one time he put a bunch of tip money in his mouth while he was bartending and ended up getting some disease that´s all but wiped out except among infants in thailand).

Number 2. Guatemalan revolutionary heroes are way sexier than the ones from the United States. Seriously, it´s like if Elvis, John Travolta, Captain Picard from Star Trek, Ricardon Montalbán, and Central American Thor all banded together to fight tyranny. What do we have? George Washington´s got that creepy smirk concealing his wooden teeth. Ben Franklin was fat. Abe Lincoln had Marphan´s Syndrome, which doesn´t necessarily preclude sexy, but it doesn´t really help, either. I guess Andrew Jackson was alright.

Anyway, I noticed this and immediately exclaimed something about it to whoever was near me. They thought it was weird. I´m keeping a 20 (Elvis) in case any of you are curious about it.

Man. So sexy.

In real life news, I went to the kite festival. It was rad. The only dissapointing thing was that the kites that were like 40 feet tall were only for display. I had the misconception that they were going to take off at some point, risking the lives of hundreds (one smaller kite thwapped my friend right in the forehead as it was taking off), and made the folks I was with stay there for an extra hour. There are some cool pictures of it, but I´ll show them to you when I get back.

The whole thing took place in a cemetary, which was wierd. I´ll bet there were about 1,000 people, and people were walking over graves, sitting on headstones, spilling ice cream on mausoleums, without seeming to think much of it. Strange that as people pay their respects to the spirits of their loved ones in the sky, they don´t think much of their bodies below. Oh well, empty vessels, you know.

The experience also taught me that it is not wise to venture into the unknown with old people or babies. I was accompanied by sets of both. Both sunburn easily. Both need frequent naps. When the young ones weren´t crying about eating, the old ones were crying about needing to use the bathroom. Buh. Getting lost on the way back to the car was NOT the most pleasant thing I´ve ever done.

Overall, it was a good time. Kites rule. Kids rule. Giant inflatable beer cans rule.

Pinguinos en la cama,
-kebín

PS. I could not sleep last night. Because the sound of turkeys gobbling filled the night air. This was not some preliminary guilt over my eventual thanksgiving gluttony. No, this was actually the sound of the turkeys in the cage outside my window here in San Lucas. The male head of the household keeps them in a chickenwire (turkeywire) fence next to 3 white yippy dogs who apparently have to be fenced in because they´re vicious.

It´s all very strange. And turkeys are very ugly.

curse you pumpkin-ween CURSE YOU!!!!!!!!!!

I cannot escape Halloween. I cannot escape the noise. I cannot escape the children. I cannot escape the fact that I have never once worn a good costume. I cannot escape the 10 dollar cover charge. I cannot escape the cheap, disgusting booze. I cannot escape the girls dressed up as sexy nurses who would not give me a second look if I were Guatemala´s Latin Idol Winner Carlos Peña. I cannot escape Halloween.

Last year, I went so far as to rent a hotel room in the suburbs to work on polisci research while a (rockin) party went down at my house. The internet didn´t work and a desk fell on my head. This year, I left the country. Then I got suckered into a party at a club in San Lucas. The party was exactly the same as one in the United States would have been. Same everything above. And apparently, several years later and hundreds of miles away, you can still find Fitty in the club, bottle full of ´bub. The years have not slowed him down a bit. Even amongst a bunch of people who don´t understand the lyrics to his songs, he´s stil into havin´sex. He ain´t into makin´love. AGHHHHH.

In all honesty, I shouldn´t hate the playa (hallow´s eve) I should hate the game (my mild social anxiety disorder). It doesn´t matter where I am groups of people scare the living shit out of me. It doesn´t matter what language they´re speaking. It doesn´t matter what they´re talking about. I´ll stand in the corner and try to look like i´m thinking about something. Then I´ll get drunk. Then I´ll stand in the corner and look drunk. Tonight, I started off with two people. Ruben the twenty-one year old son of the family that I´m living with now (these people, although just as rich, are 20 million times better than the family in Guatemala City), and his friend who´s name I can´t remember. We got a hotel, we arranged costuming, we joked around, we ate at the BK. It was a regular boys night out. AND it was all in Spanish. My grasp of the language is certainly less amazing than I thought it was when I got here, but I certainly CANNOT blame my utter failure to engage their group of architecture friends on that. It´s because I suck at talking to groups.

This leads me to conclude that I cannot blame my shitty, shitty october 31st on halloween. I can only blame myself (I still blame halloween, a little bit). Next year, I will go to space. Sober. Dressed in some sort of frock that could never be misconstrued as festive. With several cans of garbanzo beans, the culinary opposite of candy corn. And a monkey. Because you should never go into space without a monkey.

Tomorrow I´m going to the festival where everyone flies they´re kite to say goodbye to a dead relative. I´m planning on taking of my shirt and wriggling a bit (think Pete and Pete´s Petunia) to say goodbye to Pepe. Pepe was a dog that my family owned that was blind, deaf, had a severe overbite, and I´m relatively sure he also had sleep apnea. He had to be put down after he put out his own eye on some sharp corner. He was the meanest dog in the history of dogs. But I loved him. Because he was too ugly not to love. If you know someone like that you should tell them. Except don´t tell them that they´re ugly. Because that would make you a jerk.

I also saw the flip side of all my ranting about adoption. I saw an American family get final bureaucratic approvial of their adoption. It was really phenomenal. Those people were overjoyed. And even if they have a stick up their collective ass, they will be good parents. And those babies are going to be better off than they probably would have been. So now I´m further confused by the whole ordeal.

Still babies everywhere.

Home soon.

Ciao ciao ciao ciao ciao.
-kevinsito.

PS. Kids don´t really ask for candy here. They ask for money. By shaking little buckets full of coins at you, wherever you happen to be. Trick or treating is not scary. Tiny people in rubber masks following you around shaking items that make lots of noise, on the other hand, is FUCKING TERRIFYING.

things got all turned around...

I'm extremely happy. I have relatively few complaints. Who-wha?

I just returned from a two-day trip to a little town called San Lucas that's between Antigua and Guatemala City. Norma, one of the secretaries from the office brought me and it was awesome.

Highlights:

Went to eat at TGIFridays with Isamari's foster family before my family adopted her. They were awesome. I instantly felt comfortable, that's the first time this has happened. The dad was the first and only person I've met who was certain about his voting choice (EVERY other person has said they're not sure because both candidates suck). Then I found out that he went to grade school with Otto Perez, the Patriot Party's candidate. That's cheating. He had taught the baby that they're currently taking care of to make a fist (PP's "mano dura" gesture) when commercials for the PP come on TV. I wonder if babies heiling Hitler were cute back in the day. Most likely (not saying the guy's Hitler, I'm just saying trained babies are always cute. Like trained animals doing awful things. See also: British cigarette-smoking monkey).

Another quick note about Guatemalan Friday's. Flair is apparently an international concept. Server-guy had a shitload of meaningless buttons.

I've been in Guatemala for two weeks. Things I've done include: eating at McDonalds 3 times, eating at TGIFridays, eating at Burger King, eating at Wendy's, visiting the Guatemalan equivalent to Sam's Club (Price Smart). Our world is a strange one.

Went to Antigua shopping with Norma and her kids. Her kids were awesome. I discussed the difference between "real punk" (Rancid) and "not real punk" (Linkin Park). I also went on a shopping E-spree. I am now rolling in odd trinkets. Zoe, you got what you wanted. Apparently, there's a rule against constructing new buildings in Antigua so that it keeps the "wicked old" theme. For this reason, you can find Subway, McDonalds, and Burger King inside these extremely antique structures. Weird.

Met one of the people who helped my mom adopt Isa in San Lucas. Her name is Bryslie. She rules. We hung out with a bunch of people who are adopting in Guatemala but can't afford expensive lawyers like the ones at the office. Apparently part of the reason that they're closing the adoptions is that the PGN (major adoption force) is checking on who can pay how much and adjusting the price for expedient adoption accordingly. Blackmail via baby. Brutal. Anyway, I was relaxed throughout this part of the journey, too, it was amazing!

Today, I went to a bunch of museums, some convents, churches, and other such old things. Apparently, November 1 is a Saint's Day and they fly kites to say hello to dead relatives or goodbye to recently deceased loved ones. Score another one for my tattoo. Affirmations of my rebellious teenage decision abound.

Most interesting visit was the museum dedicated to San Hermano Pedro who was this really skinny guy who went around collecting for the poor all the time in Guatemala (he's a big deal). Inside the museum there are testaments to all sorts of the miracles he's come through on posthumously. These include curing the blind (eyeglasses), the lame (like 60 crutches), and one case of lymphoma in College Station, Texas (enormous thank-you plaque in the shape of the state). The display also included his undergarments, which, as far as I could tell, were a pair of boxer shorts made of coarse, extremely loosely woven yarn. In my humble opinion, these were likely far better penance for any wrongdoing than the instruments which were also on display. Anyway, this guy looked like a pretty cool dude. I bought a hat with his face and a zombie-esque Pope John Paul II on the front, I'm having a great deal of difficulty deciding whether to keep it or to give it away.

On Tuesday I'm going to a halloween party. Where, if all goes as planned, I will drink beer! I miss beer.

Ok. For those of you who haven't jumped ship due to my recent political themes, there's some balance.

My attempts to escape Halloween have reached new heights as I've now taken to leaving the country.

Suckers.

-kevtronics

Mom...Where do babies come from?...

...They come from poor countries, honey.

That's the subject of this post. Discussion of it doesn't begin immediately, but it would not have looked right anywhere else body of the text. So.

First.
The DREAM Act failed in the Senate, it was close (52 in favor, 44 opposed). I wish the country was different. It makes me embarrassed to live in the United States. It makes me embarrassed to have what I have. The kind of hypocrisy on display by our government is devastating to a full 5% of all of the workers in the United States. The most aggravating aspect of all of this is that this, along with other legislative activities (see the provision denying medical coverage to the children of undocumented immigrants in the revised S-CHIP bill), targets people who are impossible to blame, kids who were brought into the country by their parents.

Next.
Brief anecdote.

I was eating dinner made by Reina, who I must reiterate, is the fukken shit. I just found out that everyone else gets dinner made to order. They tell her what they want, she makes it. Me? I just eat what she gives me. And it's always phen-tastic. Anyway, so I'm eating, explaining to her that I'm going home early (I'm going home early) and talking about how I dialed internationally to make sure nothing got mixed up with changing my ticket date by talking to someone in English but he ended up having a really thick accent so it ended up being in Spanish anyway. And she asks me how much it costs to change the dates.

"$100"
"And how much did you pay for your first ticket? "
"Around $430"
"Oh, wow! How much is that in Quetzales?"
"Ummm..400x7...2800?"
"Ha ha! I'll just pay a coyote (immigrant smuggler), thank you very much! That would only cost me 1000!"

I found this very funny and we chattered on. I'm going to miss her very much. Well, maybe not as we ultimately decided that I'm just going to put her (she's very small) in my suitcase.

Right. Babies. Babies everywhere. I feel great.

So, in the time I've been here, working for Diaz-Duran and Asociados, I've seen pretty much the entire adoption process from the time the State approves a set of parents from abroad, to the time the kid gets on the plane. I've been to fill out forms for a Guatemalan visa, I've brought them in for their passport photos, I've put stamps on 14 pages of governmental approval for adoptions, I've watched foster parents officially sign away their responsibiliy for a child I've talked to state social workers about the blessing these children are receiving, I've held little kids in place while their little hands and feet are put on inkpads and printed on official documents.

Finding out about the international adoption process and where Guatemalan babies (including the adorable little one that lives in my house) come from was probably my most compelling reason for embarking on this whole central american (mis)adventure. And I've learned a lot. more than I really meant to.

First of all, the women in the social service center are extremely friendly. They talk about all of the children that have come through (they remembered my little sister) and how good it is that they're coming to the United States. On the other hand they mention the sadness on the faces of anyone who's taken care of the children when they have to give them up.

One thing that everyone mentions, without fail, is poverty. "There's so much poverty here, so of course they have to give up a child that no one can afford to support" "Better that the children go to place where there's money. That way they can be happy" and the like. Money also comes into play on the Guatemalan side as foster families earn considerable (by Guatemalan standards) sums of money for agreeing to take care of the child. Parents in the United States are also often willing to pay a ton to make sure that their adopted child gets to the US or to shorten the amount of time that the bureaucratic process takes. This is actually a big reason that the Guatemalan government is closing all international adoptions on December 31st through a mandate that I'm not entirely clear on. It seems a lot of people are convinced that adoption has become a sort of human-trafficking process, with Guatemalans essentially "selling" their children to people in the US, with a number of middle-persons making a profit.

So. Adoptions are closing. Good thing? Not really. It's clear that there are children here that are extremely poor who can't be provided for by their families. I had an unexpected conversation with one of the secretaries who's usually extremely curt and reserved (she told me not to use the "workers" bathroom at the office because it's dirty) about the lack of sex ed. in Guatemala and how that results in a good number of unsupportable pregnancies.

Based on the conversations that I've had with lawyers, social workers, and foster moms, I've come to believe that international adoption is probably not the worst bandaid solution to global circumstances that exists. Right now, there is an enormous income gap. There are people who can afford to raise children and people who can't. It makes some people feel good to adopt children from abroad, for whatever reason. It seems like a win-win. But then it stops at that. People seem resigned to that fact that some places are poor and other places are not and that's how it is and how it will be. That's how the people I've talked to here seem to feel. Like they've got a lot of poor kids and lot more coming and so they'd better do something with them. They look at me funny when I say that adoptions a good thing but I hope that someday they won't have to put kids up for adoption from other countries, that someone in Guatemala will be able to do it.

Overall, despite some revelations and surprising exchanges, some of my assumptions coming into this have been confirmed. For one, the law firm is not only the leader in assisting with Guatemalan adoptions, it is also the first law firm in central america to have specialized a number of its policies to assist in proceedings involved with the Central American Free Trade Agreement. It seems like it must be free trade of everything.

There's a fundamental problem here. When say I here, I don't mean my physical location. I mean now. With the world. And I don't exactly know how to solve it. So there you go.

In other news...um...I'll see you all soonish?

At least I'm not Blogging for Breasts...
(real thing, see yahoo's people of the web...didn't read it, just saw it adverstised)

-kevlar

PS: Pop music in spanish is weird. There's a song I've listened to repeatedly due to my temp fam's agreement that there is only one burned cd they can all listen to together (even though half of the tracks aggravate the the 13 year old. It's called "Pinguinos en la Cama" by Ricardo Arjona.

Its chorus begins...."Vamos aclarando el panorama/que hay pinguinos en la cama"
Literally translated: "We are clarifying the panorama/that there are penguins in the bed"
Figuratively translated...I actually have no earthly idea.

Brief Foray Into Political Activism

If you're in the US and have some free time, please please please call your Senators and tell them to vote for the DREAM Act S. 2205. This will mean a lot of really good things for a lot of really talented kids who've ended up in unfortunate circumstances due to their parents' choices in terms of pursuing livelihoods in the US. Please. I'm gonna. And I'm in Guatemala

This is a far more informative message from Centro Campesino, an farmworker's rights organization based just south of Minneapolis:


The DREAM Act in Brief:

The DREAM Act is narrowly tailored
It would apply only to individuals brought to the U.S. at least 5 years ago as children, who have grown up here (but are still under 30 years old), and who have remained in school and out of trouble. They could get a green card 6 years after graduating from high school if during that time they continue on to college or serve in the military.

The DREAM Act is not a 'mini-amnesty'
At its core, amnesty is forgiveness for wrongdoing. That does not apply to DREAM Act students who were all brought here years ago as children. The DREAM Act rewards them for staying in school or serving our country.

The DREAM Act would benefit taxpayers
The DREAM Act would provide hope to immigrant students and lead many more of them to remain in school. As an example of the fiscal benefits of this, a RAND study showed that a 30-year-old Mexican immigrant woman who graduates from college will pay $5,300 more in taxes and cost $3,900 less in government expenses each year than if she had dropped out of high school. This amounts to an annual fiscal benefit of over $9,000 per person every year, money that can be used to pay for the education of other children. State and local taxpayers have already invested in the education of these children in elementary and secondary school and deserve to get a return on their investment The most important differences from the earlier version are that S. 2205 would not apply to individuals who, on the date of enactment, are over 30 years old, and it would not delete a provision of federal law that places conditions on states that provide in-state tuition to undocumented immigrants

TAKE ACTION TODAY AND TOMORROW!

THIS IS NOT A DRILL!
SENATE VOTE ON DREAM ACT
AS EARLY AS WEDNESDAY!

***IMMEDIATE ACTION NEEDED***
YOU AND YOUR NETWORKS NEED TO FLOOD SENATE OFFICES WITH PHONE CALLS, FAXES AND EMAILS TODAY AND TOMORROW!!!!!
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 23, 2007
TELL SENATORS TO VOTE FOR S. 2205 THE DREAM ACT!!!
CALL THEM AGAIN THE NEXT DAY!!!!!

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2007
TELL SENATORS TO VOTE FOR S. 2205 THE DREAM ACT!!! The DREAM Act will likely come up for a vote on the Senate floor this Wednesday. IT IS IMPERATIVE FOR ALL DREAM ACT SUPPORTERS TO CALL YOUR SENATORS, send an e-mail message and fax them, do it all over again on Wednesday morning first thing.
SHUTDOWN THE SENATE SWITCHBOARD WITH YOUR CALLS!
CALL 202-224-3121
DON'T LET THE ANTI-DREAM CALLERS BEAT US THIS TIME!

CALL BOTH OF YOUR SENATORS AND TELL THEM:
'PLEASE VOTE FOR THE DREAM ACT SO THAT IMMIGRANT STUDENTS BROUGHT HERE AS CHILDREN CAN REALIZE THEIR POTENTIAL'
Your Senators' phone numbers:
Senator Norm Coleman Main: 202-224-5641
Senator Amy Klobuchar Main: 202-224-3244

Last week, Senators Richard Durbin (D-IL), Chuck Hagel (R-NE) and Richard Lugar (R-IN) quietly re-introduced the DREAM Act as a new stand-alone bill, S. 2205. Most likely this Wednesday there will be a 'cloture' vote on whether the DREAM Act can be debated and ultimately voted on. This will mark the first time that the DREAM Act has ever come to a clean vote on the Senate floor. The provisions of S. 2205 are similar, though not identical, to S. 774, the version of the DREAM Act that was filed by the Senators Durbin, Hagel, and Lugar earlier this year. Like the earlier version, S. 2205 would provide a 6-year path to permanent residence and eventual citizenship for individuals brought to the U.S. more than 5 years ago as undocumented children if they graduate from high school and continue on to college or military service. The cloture motion will require 60 votes to pass. If it fails, the DREAM Act will be pulled from the floor. If it passes, there will be more votes on the DREAM Act as well as on possible amendments. The outcome of these votes will determine the fate of the DREAM Act for this Congress. THE FIRST STEP IS PASSAGE OF THE 'CLOTURE' MOTION, MOST LIKELY ON WEDNESDAY. We recognize that this is not the first time this year that we have punched the alarm bell, but THIS IS NOT A DRILL! Word is already getting out about the vote on anti-immigrant websites, talk shows, and cable TV who are spreading their usual falsehoods, and there is little doubt that their angry and fearful base will respond.

OUR RESPONSE MUST BE UNPRECEDENTED!If you care at all about the future of DREAM Act students who have grown up here, then you must make your calls today and tomorrow, then forward this message, and then get on the phone to make sure that everyone you know does likewise. There will not be another chance.
CALL BOTH OF YOUR SENATORS AND TELL THEM:
'PLEASE VOTE FOR THE DREAM ACT SO THAT IMMIGRANT STUDENTS BROUGHT HERE AS CHILDREN CAN REALIZE THEIR POTENTIAL'
Your Senators' phone numbers:
Senator Norm Coleman Main: 202-224-5641
Senator Amy Klobuchar Main: 202-224-3244
OR
CALL THE SENATE SWITCHBOARD 202-224-3121

What else you can do:

Forward this message to every listserv and everyone you know Post it on blogs, MySpace, Facebook, or other on-line networking tools Call in to C-SPAN or other radio or television shows where there is some hope of a sympathetic audience (not anti-immigrant propaganda sites)

Thank you for your support.

a brief portrait of (way) southern decadence

Hello, neighbor.

I'll briefly recap the weekend. It was uneventful. Too brief? Okay.

Saturday was a national holiday. So me and the temp fam, as I've come to call them in my head, took a not so brief trip to some ruins in a place called Tecpan. The trip began with a stop at Mac (donalds)* where I ate a Big Mac (which wasn't as good as the ones in the US, though I'm not sure why it would be) in the car which was thoroughly jostled as A/the highways in Guatemala are not always in tip top shape and B/ temp fath fig drives like a maniac or an idiot, depending on my mood. Please take note of the fact that I used parenthetical observation, alphabetical subpoints, AND a footnote in that sentence. I hope you were able to follow. Anyway, at this point I'm relatively sure that the family thinks I'm completely unreachable given that I took 10 photos from inside the car including one of my sandwich, which came in a styrofoam container and I took no photos of the ruins. It's interesting to me that environmental uproar over the use of styrofoam in the United States was apparently insulated to the point that McDonald's chose not to change it's packaging material anywhere else, including a country with 19 priceless ecosystems.

*second fucking time I've been made to eat there

So, point of the story. We get to the ruins at 4:00. They close at 4:30. As we pull up, the gaurd is closing the gate. He says, "Sorry, you can't come in, we're closed". Paternal household says, "No no no, we have 25 minutes!". Gaurd: "Sorry, closed. Come again another day". My guide to Guatemala: "No, wait, you don't understand! We brought a Gringo! Look, he's right here! He's from America! Please, it'll take us like 15 minutes, I swear. We'll come right back"

It was at this moment, my pale face turned bright red and I wanted to put my 6'0'' frame in a 6'1'' deep hole. My attempts at requesting that this not happen again were rebuffed with an explanation that my foreignness garners me special treatment. To be more exact, "Those people don't respect locals". Awesome. I am my own key to the country. In closing, the ruins were old, the landscape was pretty, and I saw a Mayan ritual involving flowers and some burning stuff. It was very peaceful.

Aside...I hate that I can't sum up well. If you'd like to read events that inspired the blogs title, read on. If not, I understand and I'm sorry I'm so long winded. Your absence will be missed, and will cut my readership in half.

Second aside...at some point during this trip I was bitten on the nipple by an insect. Somehow, I had always functioned under the assumption that this didn't happen. Apparently it does. Brutal.

Today I went to work, did an English languate summary sheet for the firm, got tricked into stuffing 150 envelopes for a conference that I guess I'm helping with (I am still so incredibly angry about that) and after work ended at 6 got dragged to a party.

When I started this trip, I did not expect an extended encounter with abject poverty. I am not here on any sort of service learning trip, I am an upper-middle American staying with what I assumed to be the low end of affluent Guatemalans. I did not expect, however to end up at parties where the entire group wanted to forcibly quell unrest among the poor.

At this party, which was for the 17th birthday of the son of the pastor of the local Protestant megachurch that my temp fam attends. I was unaware that megachurches existed outside of a certain radius of Joplin, Missouri. Apparently His (Jerry Falwell) gaze is growing wider. Yes, that was a LOTR joke. I hung out for a bit in the U-17 room with the pool table and lots of kids. Apparently I am everybit as awkward around this group as I was when I was 15. Then into the adult party, where the action was.

I managed to keep abstain from the Johnny Walker Red Label, which was sitting there, beckoning to me. Probably a good thing, as I had trouble holding my tongue as the converation continued. Notable thing #1/ Rich folks that I've met here all tend to want to vote for Otto Perez (see two blogs ago) and only refer to him as "Mano Dura", his campaign slogan. His whole platform is based on security. He is a former general who promises an increased military presence among common people to stop crime. People seriously refer to this guy as "the firm hand" and are excited about it. Freaks me the fuck out.

#2/ It's not hip to be a Bush supporter. So everyone who wants to appear learned regarding international issues bitches about how much he sucks. Even wealthy folks who are "anti-communist" (apparently still a thing) and who plan on voting for someone who has no visible plans to invest in education, sources of income for the poor, healthcare, and will presumably roll back civil rights and liberties in the interest of some kind of "national security". D'oh.

#3/ This religious leader did not seem very much like one of those to me. He drank the whiskey that I didn't. He cursed a lot in English. He complained about the poor and how much they whine. He made jokes about me having sex with the 17-year old daughter of the family I'm staying with in front of her mother (who apparently thought it was amusing). His abode was also pretty fucking big for a family of four in a country where lots of families live in lean-tos constructed out of refuse. I suppose pious is sort of an outdated term

It is not as though I don't appreciate this experience, it's cool to see the top 10th of the income divide in countries like this, as I fully intend to see the bottom portion. It's just that these people are so...awful in terms of their concern for others. I don't know what more to say.

At least I was driven home by someone who was thoroughly intoxicated!

Okay! I really miss both of you! Seriously, if you're reading this, send me an e-mail, I'd love to hear how you are. Not being with anyone that I can really express my thoughts to and hear back from has made me miss everyone a lot. A lot a lot.

Anyway.

Chocolate Rain,
-kevin

PS. I'm currently working with a lot of women in heels, and I'm also scared to death of interacting with anyone half of the time. It has given a whole new meaning to Under Armour's "Click Clack, I think you hear us coming" ad campaign. I'm thinking they should maybe consider designing a pair of women's pumps.

Why Being Friends with Ben has Benefits.

Seriously, Ben Weiss is my man, and none of you adorable, geeky, Rivers Cuomo types can have him (he might beg to differ).

Latest reason:

http://ecotality.com/life/2007/10/17/kite-energy-generation-plants-to-cost-considerably-less-than-turbines/

I now have total justification in calling my tattoo "Body Art for Change".

Most Etcellent.

Down the Pipe

That's intermittently how I've felt the trip has gone thus far.

Part of it has to do with the usual feelings of alienation that accompany going into a brand new locale (especially minus the company of others from your home country). I think the other part of it has to do with putting myself in a situation where I wield little to no control over my life given my lack of familiarity with the surroundings, the culture, and, to a certain extent, the language. We'll give it some time. Or maybe you'll get to see my smiling face sooner than you would have expected.

In other news regarding pipes (more specifically my own), the food here is fucking delicious. As I write this, my mouth is stained red with a frozen strawberry confection which was dipped in chocolate. Moreover, I never thought a dish consisting of ham, onions, and capers elegantly stacked on saltine crackers could be so good (not even joking). Other highlights:

1/Pollo Campero:
A fast food restaurant exclusively found in Guatemala and roughly comparable to America's own Unlucky Fried Kitten (KFC). Roughly. The food there is exquisite. Apparantly the Colonel had some cousin in Guate who, after failing in an attempted military coup, chose instead to go into the pollo frito business using his own blend of 33 herbs and spices. I'm thinking something to the effect of a candy striped Castro.

2/Reina:
The woman who works as the family's house help. She is the dopest person I've met thus far. I think she's so excited at the prospect of someone having a conversation with her that doesn't consist mainly of commands that she's super nice to me. She lives in the house 6 days a week and we've talked about a bunch of stuff, from her life history to where I'm allowed to walk by myself. She also cooks everything served in the house. And it's all amazing. Liquefied black beans come with every meal here, and I am glad of it.

3/ The EATCHIP :
Acronym for the European Air Traffic Control Harmonization and Integration Programme. This came into effect under the International Air Transport Association (IATA). I came across it at work, where I was busy compiling a set of documents detailing international aviation accords, especially those pertaining to the EU or Latin America. Work is really weird, thus far, I've mostly been doing semi-tedious jobs pertaining to either, A/International Business Regs or B/ Adoptions going to the US. I've seen a lot of behind the scenes stuff, more about that later? Mostly, I just thought that EATCHIP was a very funny acronym.

4/ El McDia de Feliz:
This is a real thing. Apparently, once a year, McDonalds in Guatemala donates some portion of its profits from Big Macs to cancer research. Again, no joke. And people go nuts for it. Like, sales of Big Macs absolutely skyrocket. Absurd. Kind of like the number of advertisements in English (my favorite thus far is the Play Zone resting above something called American Doughnuts!) I suppose everyone who was in Africa this summer could also attest to the hegemony of not only American commerce, but also American "culture". I suppose the two go hand in hand.

That's the end of the food bullets (mmm...food bullets). The short time I've spent here has done a lot to affirm my belief that free trade, at least in its present state, sucks butt. This has been true in everything I've encountered, from the fascination with SUV's to the way that international adoptions function.

Last thing, and only because it's still fresh, I know that this entry is pushing all (2.5) of your limits. I had a conversation with the female head of the household (who I'm living with and who gave me a job) about the upcoming presidential elections.

The finalists are Alvaro Colom, head of the National Unity of Hope Party and Otto Perez Molina, leader of the Patriotic Party (one of those sounds wayyy more appealing to my young, liberal ears). Anyway, Colom is a Lefty, promising social reforms and that he wants to "use intelligence to fight violence" (sounds better in Spanish) because he believes that the constant robberies that take place in the city stem from inequality in wealth. Perez Molina is a former army general who's running on security platform, proposing that people vote with a "firm hand" and that he will, in turn, rule with a firm hand. Again, this one seems like a no brainer, as presumably coercive heads of state are no fun at parties.

But....my friend said that she was planning on voting for the Patriotic Party. Wha??? Her first reason for doing so was pretty much expected. He supports liberal economic policy, which benefits wealthy people like this family I'm living with while Colom is more a socialist-type guy (also occasionally party killers, but at least they'll share their beer). Her second reason turned my whole safe, sound, bleeding-middle-class-heart-world upside-down. She said that she is aware of the civil liberties she has but would gladly give them up for security. When I asked if she was aware that he could become a military dictator, she said yes, and that it was difficult to choose between that and what she perceived to be an economic dictator. There's lots of famous quotes about this giving up rights for security, but they escape me at the moment. I guess I deserve neither.

What has really gotten to me is that in the US, we're giving up our civil liberties for what is largely a ghost-threat. An apparition of danger that lingers from an event 6 years in the past. Here, I feel like she might have a better reason for feeling that way. People get held up at gun point with unnerving regularity here. I dunno. My mental jury is still out (it's been like an hour and a half).

Ok That's All.

I hope your appetites are all whetted.

-dj kevlar

ps. In an attempt to create more awareness of the sport I play, love, and miss desperately, here's my list of teams that I'm rooting for at the Ultimate Player's Association Club Championships, scheduled for October 27th-30th. (www.club2007.upa.org).

Master's (old guy division).....Surly (Minneapolis, MN)
My favorite coach Chris York plays for this team, composed mostly of former Sub Zero guys. Think like a bunch of the old school justice league coming out of retirement to do battle with their old school nemeses (Boston, Bay Area, etc)

Mixed (men and women).....Flycoons (Missoula, MT)
Gotta love a team from Montana. Plus Tim Murray plays for them. I don't actually know him, but he writes a good blog about ultimate, which keeps the boredom away.

Women's.....Lady Godiva (Boston, MA)
I mostly just like their name. The teams with people I know got eliminated this year.

Open (men)....Sub Zero (Minneapolis, MN)
My...other favorite coach Charlie Reznikoff plays for this team. So does my friend Jeff. They are very good. Basically what I want to be when I grow up.

I don't care if any of you read that last part. It's my hot blog, I'll do what I want. Aaaaand I just threw up in my mouth.

DOA

Hiya,

Seriously, I'm like a foot taller than anyone else in this country (except for the Germans...Germans?)

So I got here after a flight which left at 3:25 AM. I had no requisite documents beyond my passport. But apparently Guatemala's immigration crisis is not quite as crisis-ey as that of the good ol' USA and they let me fill in a bunch of stuff illegibly and rushed me through customs. Suckers.

I went to a place called El Waffle (pronounced wah-flay) with this family that I'm living with. It was cool. They're cool. Except for one thing.

Which is why I need to tell you this anecdote:
So my little brother Jesse
(http://tinyurl.com/3bwu32)
was in a grocery store with my sister and my mom. They're having some boisterous conversation when suddenly Jesse jumps in and says, "Hey! Hey! We're in Spanishtown now! We have to speak Spanish!" My mom and sister both ask him why. He gestures around at an unusually high number of Mexicans in the store and makes an "isn't it obvious?" face.

What that has to do with me now. I feel like I'm in Spanishtown, what with this being Guatemala and all, but no one will speak Spanish with me. As I got off the plane and greeted the family I'm staying with they sort of idly asked if I understood Spanish. I sort of answered that I understood most of everything people say to me but it came off garbled. After this no one would speak to me in Spanish (including wife and kids who don't really speak English). I'm beginning to suspect that the male head of the household issued an edict that no one speak to me in Spanish out of a misguided desire to act in my best interests. Rough, because now everywhere we've been, I feel like I'm getting the Turista Treatment.

Whatever though, too early to be discouraged. At least Blogger seems to understand my wants and needs, as it is now operating En Espa~n~ol. I'm thinking of asking its hott, culturally sensitive, web-based self on a date.

After they let me take an hour nap on zero sleep, we went to Antigua. Antigua is very old and and apparently much friendlier than Guate City. I ate steak tacos. And it was good. I don't know when I start work, but I think it might be soon.

How are all (2.5) of you? Do you want presents? If you have requests and make them on my lame blog, I'm likely to reward you for reading it with presents. Zoe already asked me for a brown baby, but I think those are like one per family and my family already got the best-est one.
(http://tinyurl.com/2lyc2b)
Note: Not the old woman.

Other side note. The new M.I.A. (late for me to talk about it, I know) is pretty swole. It may have to be my faraway jam.

luvs and luvs,
-kevin