Save me Centro!

Last night I went grocery shopping and when faced with not seeing the product my wife had asked for, I called her up. Through our conversation I was directed to the right item.

This morning I went out on a walk. A block down the street I realized I had forgotten my cell phone. My wife hadn't left yet, so my first thought was, I'll just call her and have her bring it to me on my walk as she would be driving by me.

Call...with what? 

I think I might have dependency issues!

Captured bird

Movement caught my eye up in the rafters of the Valle Hermoso Convention Center. I stared at where I had seen movement. I saw a tiny bird in the steel beams. It flew in random flight patterns around the ceiling, looking for a way back to the outside.

I felt sad that a life would end in starvation and a meaningless death. I moved my thinking to other thoughts.

There were sporadic chirps and an occasional chirp which brought my thinking back to the little bird.

The next morning it was flying into the windows on the stairs and trying to get out. But it was useless. I descended the stairs and used the bathroom.

On my way back to my sleeping pad, there were a few girls out of their sleeping room. They said they were out in the hall because there was a bird flying around their room. I got a towel and in a few minutes had trapped the frightened little animal in the towel. It's tiny black head poking out of the white terry-cloth. It's eyes stared at me. It looked terrified.

I took it downstairs, out the door and shook the towel out as a flutter of feathers headed to the sky, free to forage for food another day.

What I can (never) do

This week the Olympics have consumed our national psyche. Stories emerge about the incredible sacrifices made to get to this point. We see hard bodies that define muscles so precisely so that it wouldn't look much different if we peeled away skin. And these amazing hard bodies do amazing things. And we celebrate the winners. Very quickly those who don't place, lose their place in the story.

I was raised with two beliefs. One was that we in our family were special, that we didn't occupy ourselves with the pursuits of the common folks. Our existence was on a higher plane. The other tenant was that strong, well-muscled men were a cut above the rest. So when I see male athletes standing on the podium receiving accolades for their accomplishment, I have a tendency to feel despondent. I can feel I don’t measure up and I should. I know it isn’t rational. I know the fallacies that lurks behind that thinking. But like a riptide, it has the tendency to set me adrift for a while.

One of the things that helps me find the sand under my feet is this. The Olympics are well-defined arenas to showcase one or several athletic skills that the athletes have been honing for years. Cast in that setting, it looks pretty impressive. In fact, they are really impressive and I do not want to diminish their achievements. But we don’t know how they function after they leave the arena, what goes through their minds when no one is aware. I don’t know that they are better people because of what they have achieved on the world stage. They are simply people who have exhibited a single dimensional skill divorced from a multidimensional life.

And while their awards are well deserved, that is not a basis for the measurement of the worth of a life.

34 passenger van

There are different names for things between here and Mexico. For example, in our country, we have 15 passenger vans... except it is difficult to insure them and people are concerned about the safety of the vans. Studies have shown that 15 passenger vans are three times as likely to roll over in a crash. So we use them less and less here. And few are insuring them.

In Mexico, you can refer to what we call "15 passenger van", by a new name; the "34 passenger van". After kids camp each day, the kids waited patiently while they took their turn getting in the van. The way it worked is like this:

In the very back, there was enough room for five children to stand up between the back seat and the back doors. Then because the back seat stretched the width of the van five children could sit on the seat, which they did. Then another five children sat on their laps which equalled ten. The two middle seats could only hold four children, and with children sitting on laps, that equaled eight times two which is 16. Then there were two children sitting in the front seat and two more on an office swivel chair placed on the floorboards between the driver and the passenger seat.

Regardless of how light the spirits were inside the van, it did nothing to take the load off the springs.

They might have been able to fit another child in the driver's seat, but safety is important!

Watching Rambo in Spanish

It was late at the convention center in Valle Hermoso. Most of the team had gone to play soccer at an outdoor stadium. I was in a mental set thinking about the relationships we had with the many children who showed up. As usual, the person who supervised the building was sitting on a van seat bench propped up in an alcove of the lobby. A TV, balanced on a low table,  was blaring as he stared mesmerized by the glowing screen.

At one point, he looks away from the screen and smiles at me. 

"Rambo" he says, with a toothy smile. I walk over to his area and for a few minutes we watch the TV. 

"Which Rambo?" I ask.

"Tres"  He smiles and turn back to the TV.

I nod my head.

I watch more. The heros, the good, the bad, they are all speaking Spanish. It all looks very foreign, until the guns come out. The guns don't speak Spanish. They speak with the authority of brute force and need no additional interpreting. 

As the guns fire, the keeper of the Convention Center settles deeper in the van bench seat and watches with admiration, the tough action figure, mete out justice to the nare-do-wells.  And in that the keeper and I need no other language for common understanding.

Primal peek-a-boo

A woman was dragged down to the water's edge,  towed by a large bounding Labrador Retriever. She was laughing and gripped the leash tighter. Dog saw ducks and whatever control the woman had was lost as the dog plunged into the water, unhanded leash dancing across the rocks and into the water.

The lab headed straight for a female duck with her ducklings swimming behind her. As the dog neared the ducks, the female duck flapped and splashed and moved away from the ducklings. The dog instinctively headed toward the adult female as the ducklings went towards deeper water.

Within a very short time the lab lost interest, realizing that she was going to get no nearer to the prize, turned around and headed back towards shore. The leash trailed behind and was dragged up on the beach when she got out of the water and shook her fur dry.

In a space of a few minutes, the natural world was laid bare. Animals do what they do to survive in the world. Leashes only give us the illusion that we have tamed nature and is subservient to our control. But every now and then, nature reveals its truer essence.

Play with me

My attention was drawn to five geese angrily paddling away from the shoreline. Following them was the head of a black labrador Retriever.

It became apparent that the dog had no interest in the geese. A white plastic ball floating by the geese was engulfed by black jaws. The head turned and headed back to shore.

Climbing out of the water, he dropped the ball on the stones and shook the water from his glossy black fur. He picked up the ball and with his head down and full of purpose, walked up to where my feet were. He shook again and dropped the ball two feet from my toes. He looked at me. He nudged the ball closer to me, his head down, his eyes watching me intently.

I leaned over and picked up the ball. The lab's head shot up and his haunches tightened as he anticipated the throw. I threw it into the water. Water joyfully parted as the black hulk lunged away from the shore. 

Once again the head purposely navigated to the ball. It was snatched in his jaws and his nose once more headed toward shore. 

We did one more round before he lost interest and wandered off to find his owner.

This dog did not judge my character. He didn't worry what I looked like or what my morals were. His only concern..."Can you throw the ball?'