Maybe there is a way to write things without them being superficial but still to wander through the writing in a more organic kind of way. To explore and discover and find those tidbits and utilize vocabulary in new ways. Like Dave Eggers or Shelley Jackson seem to do sometimes. Something narrated in a detailed way, conscious of stolen hoses and other ephemeral items, often robbed in the cover of darkness. Sorry I am getting off of the point. I found Gertrude Stein again. This time in the house of my prometida in Hermosillo. And this establishes another process that I have little control over (o sea 1) learning how to narrate in a way that is detailed, organic and not cloying or superficial 2) mixing and demixing the two languages I live in). I want to narrate things again and learn to say things again in a clear way and the clear way is evasive and difficult. And both languages are mixed in daily life but daily life responds to different exigencies than writing or reading unfortunately. And I love Stein for her wandering narratives that never quite let you touch her never quite let you intern yourself inside her brain. I was reading a book that I picked up here at the Conference here in Hermosillo while I sat between Las Mafaldas who love her and the book was talking about piropos and it is a handmade book handbound and gorgeous and I do not think there is a website to look at because websites will never be hand made or hand bound and I ran into Jen Hofer's writing again. This time a poem translated into Spanish by a poet who Jen translates into English. And this seems to be a good answer to a difficult question about how to respect our own limitations and to find ways to cross at the same time. English is my mother tongue. And as they say, I also have a stepmother tongue. I should say to my drunken detractors officially that I am no more a wanna-be Mexican than I am a wanna-be American. Perpetually doomed to failure both projects I think. I suppose I should also mention that Sonoran food is frightfully lacking in fiber and high in alcoholic content yes here Tecate is included as a food generally. I will not eat another quesadilla for two months. I will not eat another quesadilla for two months. At least. The problem is that I am convinced that Manuel is right, albeit also cruel. The fictions of one small, relatively meaningless life cannot compare with a well written film script or a well developed novel. And yet narrators find ways to narrate and tie their words together into strings. And I´ll translate them and keep trying to find a way to write something myself, though doomed to failure surely. Sin más, signing off from mi casa Infonavit in Helmosillo.
Mis horas de mil sonrisas
Aztlán
- ¿Ón tá Aztlán? ¿Pallá?
- Sí. Pallá.
And I point off into hazy distance, ruled over by the columns of the tracks of the Metrorrey. In the distance, huge earthen piles techtonically erected over centuries and milenia make rippled anthropomorphic tracks across the sky. The naturalness of trees at miles distance peaking over tents and concrete walls and roofs. Sun glares down on the tented marketrow and we could be no closer to what is was once the land of the white heron. Who is to say that a treaty could define a land of ghosts and warriors. Small children press their faces to the glass to watch the skyline.
Una infinidad de techos abánicos sillas y mesas de metal abandonadas. En el cerro una colonia se levanta cada día más alta. Hay carros por allí arriba. Cinturones blancos mezclillas impecables una solitaria rasta que sale de la nuca del muchacho me distrae. La manera de hablar de caminar de moverse en el espacio. Todos van al paraíso clasemediero. A rhythm of waiting and watching. I am not looking at your youth your vitality. Not transfixed by your neons. I promise.
No me lleves la cartera. Miedo de estar fuera de la casa. Miedo al contar los días de extrañeza de andar perdido y solo. Ser fuereño una experiencia única. Mi condición me lleva a experimentar una nostalgía renovada. Estas esquinas esas banquetas. Todo se renueva. No estoy en casa. La tierra de las garzas está por allá. Sí, señor. Cáminale por allá un ratito. Sí llegas luego luego.
No hay por qué escribir things real aquí, ¿ves? It was all an act, desde hace mucho. Tú me viniste encima y pues ni me la hubiera imaginado. ¿Cómo puede ser que tú supiste todo? You left me in the dust. Ahora andas aparentando como si entendieras todo y por eso me esfuerzo a meterle palabras díficiles, construcciones gramaticales revueltas para que dejes de castrarme. Just so you'll be on the outside. What were we saying juntos anyway? Right, ya dejo las chingaderas porque esto no dice nada y no me ganará ni cacahuates como quién dice. Ni sé si los acentos están bien o no. Ya no me acuerdo. Hay que estudiar, un chingo. Por si las moscas. Porque en el carro, decidí muchas cosas pero nunca las terminaré. Se quedarán en ese vacío entre el antes y ahora. No que I know what, I don't y punto. It's all an act, te digo. See through it. ¿Y luego? It'll be okay. A new cliché turns round the esquina. Ni te lo esperaba, pero llegaste. Such trouble to have walked this far and nothing at all to show for it. Pido perdón a todos los fans. Pa' la próxima sí voy a mejorar.
Camelia La Texana
Uno tiene que ser orgulloso de su gente, en mi opinión. Y pues la hija de San Antonio, Camelia, nos ha hecho famosos.
¿Por qué es que todos los videos usan travestis para el papel de Camelia?
Y la letra:
Salieron de San Isidro,
procedentes de Tijuana,
traian las llantas del carro
repletas de hierba mala,
eran Emilio Varela,
y Camelia, la Texana
Pasaron por San Clemente
los paró la emigración,
les pidió sus documentos,
les dijó: ¿De donde son?
Ella era de San Antonio,
un hembra de corazón.
Una hembra si quiere un hombre,
por él puede dar la vida,
pero hay que tener cuidado
si esa hembra se siente herida,
la traición y el contrabando...
son cosas incompartidas.
A Los Angeles llegaron,
a Hollywood se pasaron,
en un callejón oscuro
las cuatro llantas cambiaron,
ahi entregaron la hierba...
y ahi también les pagaron
Emilio dice a Camelia:
Hoy te das por despedida,
con la parte que te toca
tu puedes rehacer tu vida,
yo me voy pa` San Francisco,
con la dueña de mi vida.
Sonaron siete balazos,
Camelia a Emilio mataba,
la policìa sólo halló una pistola tirada,
del dinero y de Camelia...
Nunca mas se supo nada
Found on Lined School Paper on a Backstreet in Galveston, Texas
Chupa rosa preparada
oracion de la chuparosas
miel de amor
***
Suck prepared rose
prayer of the rosesucker
honey of love
White People Love Obama
Despite what Hillary is saying these days:
White people still do seem to love Barack.
That's 75,000 people in Portland, Oregon at a Barack rally. But, right, white people in Portland probably aren't the hardworking white people that support Hillary so much. But, um, 75,000 people in Oregon can't be wrong. And yeah, they're probably not all white, but they are probably pretty similar to the demographics of Portland (almost 80% white) or Oregon (like 92% white). So yeah, I don't think Hillary is right that she has some secret white magic over white people. Stop race-baiting, Hillary. Diana and Mario
Made My Day
MUTO a wall-painted animation by BLU from blu on Vimeo.
Thanks to Giver for the link to this amazing art from Buenos Aires.
The Second Award for Oppressive White Man of the Day
Seattle ICE Officers (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) are searching local courtrooms in Seattle, asking legal interpreters to identify Spanish-speakers. The officers are trying to check status and initiate removal proceedings for undocumented people and especially those with issues in court (which include traffic violations to parking to low level misdeanors).Interpreters decline.
Link here.
(Seattle ICE enforcement field director Neil Clark wins the award for Oppressive White Man of the Day. This is the second of a series. The first is here.)
Good Legal Interpreting Glossaries
For the past year or so, I have been studying seriously to try to learn Legal English and Legal Spanish. Two completely new languages for me that have taken a lot of time and energy to learn. Interpreting is alone partially about terminology. When I first started I thought that the terminology would be the major difficulty. In fact, it is only step one: then there's grammar and memory and retention and phrasing and intonation and ethics and a million other important items. However, step one remains terminology; in fact, it is step one every day that an interpreter is working because one has to constantly be thinking about the terms used and how well they convey the specific meanign in question.
In any case, I have spent days searching for good legal terminology glossaries. I have already posted a good glossary for immigration interpreting. But here are links to several more glossaries that I have found helpful:
State of Washington Legal Glossary
Vera Project's Translating Justice: A Spanish Glossary for New York City
New Jersey Glossary of Legal Terms
If you have any more good ones, please let me know.
In any case, I have spent days searching for good legal terminology glossaries. I have already posted a good glossary for immigration interpreting. But here are links to several more glossaries that I have found helpful:
State of Washington Legal Glossary
Vera Project's Translating Justice: A Spanish Glossary for New York City
New Jersey Glossary of Legal Terms
If you have any more good ones, please let me know.
Javier Huerta's Fourteen Steps to Publishing Bilingual Poetry
From Javier's blog:
So the first step is to research those institutions (presses and journals) that accept Spanish and bilingual submissions.
So the second step is to submit as much and as often as possible. Publishers aren't going to find you, no matter how good your poems are.
So the third step is to learn that rejection is just part of the process.
So the fourth step is to read Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet."
So the fifth step is to memorize "El Louie."
So the sixth step is to write a poem in your limited French.
So the seventh step is to organize your manuscript and have a nonpoet comment on it.
So the eighth step is to have your grandmother edit your Spanish poems.
So the ninth step is to send your manuscript to me at johuerta@berkeley.edu.
So the tenth step is to understand that you've never published before.
So the eleventh step is to not argue with your publisher once you have a publisher.
So the twelfth step is to consider publishing beyond the borders of the United States of America.
So the thirteenth step is remaining patient while it takes your publisher two years to publish your book.
So the fourteenth step is staying beautiful.
So the first step is to research those institutions (presses and journals) that accept Spanish and bilingual submissions.
So the second step is to submit as much and as often as possible. Publishers aren't going to find you, no matter how good your poems are.
So the third step is to learn that rejection is just part of the process.
So the fourth step is to read Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet."
So the fifth step is to memorize "El Louie."
So the sixth step is to write a poem in your limited French.
So the seventh step is to organize your manuscript and have a nonpoet comment on it.
So the eighth step is to have your grandmother edit your Spanish poems.
So the ninth step is to send your manuscript to me at johuerta@berkeley.edu.
So the tenth step is to understand that you've never published before.
So the eleventh step is to not argue with your publisher once you have a publisher.
So the twelfth step is to consider publishing beyond the borders of the United States of America.
So the thirteenth step is remaining patient while it takes your publisher two years to publish your book.
So the fourteenth step is staying beautiful.
Se puede hacer poesía de todo. Todo puede ser poesía... Claro que de ahí a lograr esa auténtica ligereza en poesía, esa cotidianeidad, ese humor, esas viñatas epigramáticas, como las que aparecen el los autores [como] Cavafis; o bien, esas fábulas o escenas cotidianas, blancas, desnudas o moderadas en su retórica (como ciertos textos de Pacheco), hay un buen trecho... Uno hace sólo lo que puede, y no todo lo que ambiciona. Por lo demás, en la juventud se ambicionan demasiadas cosas, que luego se revelan del todo imposibles... [como] volver a medir y a rimar, aventura en la que de plano de obtuve mayores resultados...
- José Joaquín Blanco, Postales trucadas (2005)
Undocumented Speak (Hopefully)
There a lot of different blogs, books, articles, poetry, etc that in some way or another speak about the experience of the twelve or thirteen or fifteen million undocumented people in the United States. A few that I have been reading lately got me thinking about projects that take different approaches to reach similar ends:
1) A DREAM Act Texas blog by a college professor at the University of Houston, Marie Theresa Hernández, and (occasionally) by young people who would qualify for residency under the Act.
2) The blog Unitedstatesean Notes by poet Javier Huerta. He started a new feature on the blog where each week he spotlights a poem having to do with undocumented immigrants. This is how he put it on the first day of the series:
My intent is to show that a long and rich tradition of "undocumented" poetry exists in these United States. I plan to post a poem dealing with/written from the undocumented experience every Monday.
3) And now I just found out that McSweeneys (the Dave Eggers explosion), through what seems to be an imprint or related project called Voice of Witness, is publishing a collection of testimonies from undocumented people of diverse nationalities living in the United States, Underground America: Narratives of Undocumented Lives. It is edited by Peter Orner, who (I gathered from his introduction to the book) is an immigration defense attorney (or was at one time). The collection is founded on the principle that
1) A DREAM Act Texas blog by a college professor at the University of Houston, Marie Theresa Hernández, and (occasionally) by young people who would qualify for residency under the Act.
2) The blog Unitedstatesean Notes by poet Javier Huerta. He started a new feature on the blog where each week he spotlights a poem having to do with undocumented immigrants. This is how he put it on the first day of the series:
My intent is to show that a long and rich tradition of "undocumented" poetry exists in these United States. I plan to post a poem dealing with/written from the undocumented experience every Monday.
I think the critical point in this description is the "dealing with/written from" paradox. For Javier, "undocumented" poetry is not only by the undocumented, it is also poetry that deals with the experience. The fact is that there is a lot more poetry by Chicanos or mexicanos in Mexico or gringos about "undocumentedness" than there is work being published by undocumented people. I recommend checking out the series with work by Monica Teresa Ortiz, Monica de la Torre, and Lucha Corpi.
3) And now I just found out that McSweeneys (the Dave Eggers explosion), through what seems to be an imprint or related project called Voice of Witness, is publishing a collection of testimonies from undocumented people of diverse nationalities living in the United States, Underground America: Narratives of Undocumented Lives. It is edited by Peter Orner, who (I gathered from his introduction to the book) is an immigration defense attorney (or was at one time). The collection is founded on the principle thatWe cannot begin to understand the situation facing undocumented people in this country unless we start listening to them directly.
So now the reason why I list these three is because each one of their projects does profoundly important work and finds creative ways to navigate the dynamics of solidarity. Each of them are trying to open eyes to the fact that undocumented immigrants are human beings -- writers, students, workers. In each case, the individual driving the project is not him/herself undocumented, though each one has their own story of how they came to the issue, whether through academic research, personal history or legal work. Each one has come to their own conclusions about how to navigate their insider/outsider position. I think each of these projects (whether electronic or print) gives us a lot to ponder: about solidarity, literature and voice. Worth checking out and thinking through.
Nadie es de aquí. Todos nada más viven aquí. Por un tiempo.
No one is from here. Everyone just lives here. For a while.
Cry Colonize Crash
First, my aunt mentioned this book, Eat Pray Love, to me, said it was inspiring and gripping, said she couldn't put it down. A series of other clichés to say that it had changed her life, or at least provided for good reading on the couch on a Sunday. I love my aunt, but I didn't quite trust her judgement on this one enough to read it. Then, I saw a writer in Houston from the Creative Writing program reading the book in the what-seems-to-be the new center of literary hangout hipness in town - Antidote Coffee on Studemont - where it seemed half "the Program" now lives, writes and commerces in trade secrets. So this writer was reading Elizabeth Gilbert on the plant-decorated patio, gravel underfoot, next to a professor in "the Program." She said to the professor that the book was a respite, a place to rest, relax and renew. Also said that initially she was not interested in the book because it was the typical white women goes to Third World countries and then writes a book about them. But then, she was sucked in and ended up loving it, being changed by it, finding herself in it. Sorry to get all Oprah, but you get the picture.After hearing this second person go on about it, I borrowed my aunt's copy. Well, here's my report: it made me think of something I heard the distinguished essayist Eliot Weinberger say a few weeks ago at a translator's conference. To paraphrase: "I read international literature, because contemporary U.S. literature all too often has become the story of a man or woman sitting next to the pool, deeply upset and heartbroken because of a recent divorce." For me, Eat Pray Love is exactly this. American woman of a certain class and privilege survives difficult divorce, receives six figure book advance to travel to the three I's (Italy, India, Indonesia), finds her own navel repeatedly in other countries, and comes back to sell the tale (and sell the tale after that one). Her story inspires millions.
Now I am certainly not against international travel or searching for yourself or getting a divorce or being inspired or any of this. But the book (like so much popular contemp lit) seems chock full of unexamined privilege, a frightfully isolated and narrow worldview, and a naiveté that is depressing. The book makes me what to read a kind of anti-Eat Pray Love with writing in translation by people in Italy, India and Indonesia. Now that book I would buy (Come on Open Letter! Come on Words without Borders!).
The First Award for Oppressive White Man of The Day
A new bill under consideration in Arizona (not passed yet) would attempt to outlaw students groups that organize around race, like MECha, and make illegal any classes that go against "Western civilization." Whatever that means. So much ignorance. This is one of the craziest pieces of the bill (it's hard to pick a piece of it, but still):--- Prevents public schools in Arizona from including any courses, classes, or school sponsored activities within the program of instruction that feature or promote as truth any political, religious, ideological, or cultural values that denigrate or overtly encourage dissent from the values of American democracy and Western civilization, including democracy, capitalism, pluralism, and religious toleration.
Since when do the "values of Western civilization" include capitalism? Karl Marx isn't Western enough, I guess. Neither would Gramsci or Proudhon or any other thinker who did not advocate capitalism. And I guess in their minds fascism is not a Western construct. Not colonialism either.
More info at Arizona Indymedia. Or at La Voz de Aztlán.
(The First Oppressive White Man of the Day Award goes to the guy in the photo, Russell Pearce, the white man who is pushing the legislation.)
Latest Tragedy Con un Final Medio Feliz
Legal resident applying for citizenship spends thirteen months in ICE detention centers.Houston Chronicle columnist Rick Casey did a two part column this week about the case of Mauricio Barragan. Evidently, despite being a legal resident of the US and despite being an upstanding person in ways numerous and documented, he was imprisoned for thirteen months in Immigration jails. He was driving with a suspended license, and as laws have been changed, since he had a prior drug conviction (for which he received deferred adjudication and probation), he was sent to jail and put into deportation proceedings. The government attorneys fought him every step of the way to keep him imprisoned and to eventually deport him. Luckily, they lost. What a travesty of justice.
Read the first part of Casey's column, Cold as ICE: A Story of Family Values.
And then the second part, Cold as ICE: Falsehoods.
Thank you, Rick, for this amazing column. Good work.
And thanks to the DREAM Act - Texas blog for making sure I didn't miss these important columns.
Fotos of Art from the Living Room on April Nineteenth Two Thousand Eight
Some of these photos are taken on my camera and some were taken by Dean. More of Dean's fotos at his Picasa page.
The artists - Donna Huanca and Jorge Galván. Terrorist by DH in upper right corner.
The sculpture of plants (installed by all of us). Notice faint spiderwebs in air above sculpture. Preparty.
Another view of the plants and the telarañas from the party.
Close up of webs.
Lady on the mantle by DH.
Larger piece by JG on wall. And installation with bed, backboard and drawings also by JG.
Close up of one of the drawings featuring flying chain link fencing.
Close up of the birdie in the larger wall cut out drawing by JG.
Felt sculpture radio piece by DH.
The party was off the wall. Some two hundred people. Fun fun fun. Confetti y cascarones.Click these links for more:
Living Room Art with Jorge Galván and Donna Huanca
Voices Breaking Boundaries presents Living Room Art featuring
Jorge Galvan and Donna Huanca
Saturday, April 19, 2008, 7:00 PM
At the home of John Pluecker
5036 Jefferson St
Houston, TX 77023
$Free
VBB continues its exciting Living Room Art series by exhibiting new site-specific installations in a living room party, this time in the home of John Pluecker and feature artists Jorge Galván and Donna Huanca.
Living Room Art series brings the visual arts to the neighborhood living rooms of the community and out of the galleries for the public to view the arts in a direct and more accessible way. This series will showcase art installations connected to Galvan's and Huanca's family histories and countries of origin-Mexico and Bolivia, respectively. As always, the evening in the East End of Houston includes music, food and much more.