Random thoughts from weeks ago

October 20, 2009

Ernesto Guevara in The Motorcycle Diaries says,
“I now know, by an almost fatalistic conformity with the facts, that my destiny is to travel, or perhaps it’s better to say that traveling is our destiny, because Alberto feels the same. Still, there are moments when I think with profound longing of those wonderful areas in our south. Perhaps one day, tired of circling the world, I’ll return to Argentina and settle in the Andean lakes, if not indefinitely then at least for a pause while I shift from one understanding of the world to another.”

This paragraph jumped out to me as if it had been highlighted (by me and not by someone else because I bought the book used, which I did not, it was a gift from my father, and I don’t highlight in books anyway but you know what I mean). This is what I wonder:

-“fatalistic conformity with the facts” – what does that mean? It sounds pretty, but I’m a little lost as to how to apply it to the bigger picture.

-”while I shift from one understanding of the world to another” – I love this too. It seems intricate and complex and wonderfully exciting.

I wish I were in a book group with the book. Any takers on an international forum?
On a less meditative note: There was an interesting article in the Tico Times recently about discussion on teen sexuality in Costa Rica. Some interesting facts:
-teenage pregnancy statistics have only been kept since 1984 (in Costa Rica? Is this different from the States? I feel like we have this data from way back in the 50’s, but could be completely fabricating that)
-between 1984 and the present the number of pregnancies for girls under 15 has nearly doubled to more than 500 each year
-between 1984 and the present the number of pregnancies for girls 15-19 has risen 12% to almost 14,000 a year
My question: is it normal for percentages to increase so much during the first few decades of data collection? Especially when the topic is so taboo? Where are all of my social scientist friends? Help me out here.
And here are some interesting tidbits from the article about the Catholic Church:

-the sex ed. Curriculum taught in all Costa Rica schools if reviewed by members of the culture and education commission of the Episcopal Conference of Costa Rica
-thechurch is not down with condoms, believing that they are not actually as effective as they claim to be and interest in selling them is just for business
-the church is not down with birth control
-the church is not down with alternate forms of sexual satisfaction as an alternative to intercourse. Deacon Federico Cruz, executive secretary of the curricular revision group mentioned above said, “The church isn’t going to promote that. It doesn’t help a person grow as a human…It’s training them for prostitution.”
-the church is down with abstinence only although all of the data shows that it is not only ineffective, but failing miserably
Really? I’m not saying we should push our youth out the door to go get jiggy, but maybe we could try to think outside the box a little?

10/25/09
This morning I left the house I am house sitting at 6:55 a.m. I had been up for an hour and half feeding dogs, eating breakfast, throwing sticks and reading and was getting bored. I called Dad, who was staying at my house, and told him I was coming over. The house I am house sitting is way off the main road, down a dirt road that turns into a dirt path that turns into a walk along a fence past a pasture. This morning at 6:55 a.m. the morning sun was just cutting across the sky, sending bright light to sparkle on wet leaves. I have not yet learned to bring my camera with me everywhere I go so I stood for a moment at the edge of the pasture just looking, and then moved on.

I heard a voice from a neighboring house and looked up. It was a second grade boy from my school, the same one who spent time in meeting one Sunday scratching his back with a stick. He looked up as he heard me. “Hi”, he called, recognizing me. I don’t think he knows my name, but it doesn’t matter.
“Good morning”, I replied as I passed. He was standing on the porch of his house, next to a bike.
“This is my sisters bike”, he said. I kept moving. To be honest, I wasn’t particularly interested in having a conversation with an eight year old at seven a.m. about a bike. “I’m gonna go give treats to dogs”, he called from behind me. I guess there was no escaping this conversation. I looked back and he was walking his bike towards me. In the basket of the bike was a bag of dog treats. His dog, he explained, did not really eat the treats. He had found them in his house and was now going to go give them out to the neighborhood dogs.
He gave me a quick story about how his family’s car had completely run out of gas, and then hopped on the bike with a little “oh!” as he realized how high the seat was.
“Have fun!” I called after him as he pedaled away.
“Thanks!” he called back. I wondered: Were his parents awake? Did they know where their son was? Did they know what he was doing? Does he always get up before seven on Sunday? Where was I?
And then, on the way home, cutting through the woods, I asked myself again: “Where am I?” I looked around and saw nothing but trees and early morning sunlight and dark brown earth and sparkle. I heard only rushing water off to my right. “This is my home”, I thought, amazed.

10/26/09
Last night I did not sleep well. I dreampt of robbers. I drempt that I knew who the robber in the community was and I pointed him out to my landlady. The robber climbed down her terraced garden and she smashed him in the head with a cast iron frying pan. Blood started to trickle out of his nose, but he still stumbled towards us. She smashed him in the head again and he fell down. I felt safe. But then, later in the dream, I was running, running, running for my safety.

I woke up in the middle of the night because the dogs barked. Sitting straight up like in the movies, blood running like electricity. I fell back asleep.

Again I woke up in the middle of the night, quickly and suddenly, but not sitting up. I saw a red light out the window and was convinced that there had been an emergency and my father had wandered from my house down to look for me and was wandering around disoriented in the yard. I crept out of bed and crouched near the window, trying to see who had the light. My father? The robber? Why weren´t the dogs barking? The dogs, I decided, had been gassed. I looked around the room. The red light followed my gaze and I realized that there was no one outside. My pulse was so loud I could hear it. I held my hand out and it was shaking.

I did not sleep well.