fresca como una lechuga

Let’s start off the week all ‘bright eyed and bushy tailed’!  It will be great, we’ll get so much done, and you will feel awesome!

Now I have to explain the saying that is my title.  My freshman year of college I took this great seminar class where we explored the political history of Latin America through its authors.  It was such a wonderful class taught by a very interesting man, Juan Allende.  Name sound familiar?  Anyone out there who is a Isabel Allende fan (you may freak out….or not, but I really did) will be excited to know that this man was (is) her brother.

I will tell you right now that this intimate (we only had about 8 people in the class) little seminar was the best class of my college career.  Being a freshman, I only knew two things:  1. I wanted to study Spanish and 2.  I wanted to learn about Latin America.  Sorry U.S., but we’re seriously lacking in the history education department.  In my experience, the only history you learn (secondary education) is U.S. History and Western European History.  What about Asia? Nope. Latin America? Nope. Africa? Nope.  The Middle East? Nope.

So, you can see that this seminar class was an exciting eye opener!  Near the end of the semester the professor (who we grew to really love and tried to convince him to show up one day to class in his pajamas…he refused and that is another long story) told us to write our own pieces of poetry, about whatever we wanted, and present them to the class.  The day before presentations he said to us, “I want you to be as fresh as lettuce!”.  And we all gave him that ‘deer-in-the-headlights’ look.  What??  Lettuce??

Yes, and now that is an expression I’ve heard many times: ‘fresca como una lechuga’ a.k.a ‘bright eyed and bushy tailed’.  So, here’s to hoping you have a fresh week!

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I saw the sign

While studying abroad in Córdoba, Argentina, we had the opportunity to travel around the country during our free time.  As we traveled, I began to notice the signage; bus stops, cross walks, graffiti, and translated signs.  In highly trafficked tourist areas there were many signs in various languages.  In these places I noticed that the signs translated from Spanish to English, were not always translated correctly, which made me wonder, how often do we also make those mistakes?  However, although some words were missing, one could understand the message!

Picture 1 Picture 2 Picture 3 Picture 4

Inspiración de Paulo Coelho

el alquimista

 

La semana pasada marcó el vigésimo aniversario de la historia, El Alquimista.  Esta historia es el cuento de un pastor, Santiago quien tiene un sueño recurrente sobre el descubrimiento de tesoro debajo de las piramides egipcias.  En su jornada, Santiago tiene varios encuentros pero quiere continuar su leyenda personal a descubrir el tesoro en las piramides.

Déspues de viajar un poco, Santiago se encontró con un alquimista inglés quien se aprendió mucho sobre el alma del mundo y los elementos. Los dos detuvieron al Al-Fayoum para evitar las guerras tribales y allí Santiago se enamoró con Fatima.  Santiago también tiene una visión sobre un ataque al Al-Fayoum, y por eso salvó la ciudad de destrucción. Déspues, se abandonó Fatima allí y continuye su jornada a las piramides.  La alquimista habla con él sobre su práctica y cuando llegan a las piramdes tienen varios encuentros con los arabes.  Cuando un arabe describe el mismo sueño a Santiago (que él está cerca de una iglesia debajo de un sicómoro, Santiago le da cuenta que el tesoro real está allí.

Cuando él regresa a España descubre un cofre de tesoro debajo de árbol y tiene planes a regresar a Al-Fayoum y a Fatima.

https://www.facebook.com/#!/paulocoelho el Facebook de Paulo Coelho

Mi poesía

Un poema de mi portafolio (Córdoba, Argentina 2008)

cordoba, argentina centro

N5

             O N5, espero para vos

Y espero

                     Cada día estoy ocupada y corro a tu parada

Cada vez más frustrada

Porque espero para vos

                                                   Y espero.

Cuando pienso que no puedo esperar más,

                                Te veo en la distancia y llegas.

                     Hoy tu forma es distinta,

         Ay, más vieja, las ventanas son tintas

 Y por hoy no vamos a estar lentos porque esta es tu forma de los años setenta

¡Y tu conductor no espera, conduce como está en una carrera!

¡Qué suerte!

Hay un asiento y puedo sentarme

Con mis pensamientos de tus obreros,

Tus lindos pasajeros,

Mi querido N5.

Hay mamás y papás

Abuelos y tías…

Siempre están pasando los días

De ir y de vuelta.

Enfrente de mí hay una chica, y ¿cómo se llama, Candela, Norita?

No sé, pero somos parecidas, alumnas, mujeres, las mochilas listas.

Aunque hay una cosa distinta,

Ella es una nativa, tiene su vida acá en Argentina.

¿Y yo? Yo no soy la misma, nativa ni argentina…

Yo soy observadora (shhh…no decís extranjera mi querido N5, porque por ahora soy otra pasajera, exactamente como los demás).

Y aunque espero para vos

                                                                Y espero

Adentro de sus puertas querido N5,

Puedo ser la Candela, la Norita

La alumna, la mujer, la chica con la mochila lista

Puedo ser argentina.

Inglés (English)

N5

Oh N5, I wait for you

And I wait

Each day I am busy and

I run to your stop

Each time more frustrated

Because I wait for you

And I wait.

When I think that I can’t wait

More,

I see you in the distance and

You arrive.

Today your appearance is different,

Oh, much older, the windows are tinted

And for today we are not going to be slow because you are from the 70s

And your driver doesn’t wait, he drives like he’s in a race!

What luck!

There is a seat and I can sit

With my thoughts of your workers,

Your beautiful passengers,

My beloved N5.

There are mothers and fathers

Grandparents and aunts…

Always passing the days

Coming and going

In front of me there is a girl, and what is her name, Candela, Norita?

I don’t know, but we appear the same, students, women, bookbags ready.

However there is something different,

She is a native, she has her life here in Argentina.

And me? I am not the same, native nor Argentinian…

I am an observer (shhh…don’t say foreigner my beloved N5, because for now I am another passenger, exactly like the others).

And although I wait for you

And

I wait

Inside your doors beloved N5,

I can be Candela, Norita

The student, the woman, the girl with the bookbag

I can be Argentinean.

End of the (School) Year

libros

Recuerda esto: Practica un poquito, espero que tengas un buen verano, no te olvides que estamos aqui!

Despedida De Clase

Ha llegado el final de año,
es momento de despedida,
recordaré con alegría
su amor, su cariño y sonrisa.

En el alma tendré grabados,
donde maduraron mis sueños,
porque aprendi desde pequeño
de la escuela y de mis maestros.

Crayones, guardapolvos blancos,
y dibujando garabatos,
haciendo collares de plumas,
y hasta actuando en los escenarios.

Los pizarrones y recreos,
los trabajos y los cuadernos,
los libros y los compañeros,
me quedarán en el recuerdo.

Mi escuela, hoy tengo que dejarte
y emprenderé un nuevo camino,
pero tendré siempre presente
que fuiste quien guió mi destino.

Todos mis queridos maestros,
los que acompañaron mis sueños,
¡Les digo gracias y hasta siempre!
¡Serán parte de mis afectos!

Todos los derechos reservados.
Copyright © 11 de Noviembre 2012 by Arjona Delia

Frida y Diego

weddingday1929

 Last Friday I went to the Frida and Diego Exhibit at the High Museum.  This is the first exhibit were their work was shown together.  And it was such a wonderful exhibit!

 Diego Rivera was a Mexican muralist, very active in the Mexican Communist Party and the Mexican Revolution. Frida, his wife, was a self-taught painter who mastered the self-portrait and portrayed her reality through her paintings. Their marriage, like their work was tumultuous and had different periods, ups and downs.  But they both continued to remain devoted to one another, in their own ways.

 I would highly recommend a visit to the exhibit! You won’t regret it.

 

 

el día que tú naciste

estrellas20pink1This is a poem I learned in high school from (the best teacher ever) Sra. Lashley. We learned this poem early in her class and were expected to say it if we were misbehaving, or said something ‘not so nice’ to another student. Now, I wasn’t required to say this too often, but it’s stuck with me and really is a sweet and beautiful poem.

el día que tú naciste,
nacieron las cosas buenas,

nació el sol
nació la luna
y nacieron las estrellas

en inglés:

the day that you were born,
all the good things were born,

the sun was born
the moon was born
and the stars were born