No is no in any language

I was sitting in the doctor's office waiting room yesterday, trying to rid myself of health paranoia when for a couple of minutes I was sucked into a reality check that I otherwise would have gone on talking about without proof.


A mother was sitting with her three restless children. The eldest boy was about 5 and her daughters were about 3 and 1. When the mother asked her son about what he did in school, he let out a hasty "Everything!" "Everything?" she said, "Like what?" "Nothing," he responded. Isn't that cute when children that age have absolutely no interest in communicating much with their parents? Not much changes! When she finally got it out of him, he started talking about the "fun" part of school: games. When the mother got fed up, she said, "You had to have learned your shapes! Square,circle,triangle," and so on. He was repeating each as she said them aloud, which contunued with numbers. Then, what I have been scolding my own culture about for a while now was proven.


The mother said ,"Did they teach you Spanish?" I could already feel the negative rebelious tension in the air when the child did not respond. "You're gonna learn all of the animals...Oveja,vaca,pollo,gallina..." "No! No! No!" the boy yelled. "I don't want to hear it! I don't want to hear it!" She went on with the numbers again in her native tounge and still, the boy, acting as if someone was telling him Sesame Street was cancelled...or,in this generation, like someone had stolen his Wii, said, "Lalalalala I'm not listening! I don't want to learn Spanishhh!!"


The shame that comes along with Latino youths knowing Spanish and practicing it is so dated it kind of disgusts me, (think Zoot Suit Riot era, where kids were beaten for saying Hola.) This scenario above has been played out again and again,substituting the age of the child with a 20 something woman, or a "too cool for you" junior high kid with big chain and saggy pants. Many kids just don't care about he Spanish language. It's not their fault. How did their parents let it happen? Even when their parents don't speak one lick of English, they still manage to mute those double rr's and double ll's as inheritence to their children, who, at the end of it all, are left at a disadvantage in todays world of immigration swamped California,where they're hiring "bilingual." Forget that...just knowing it to be a tad bit more well rounded (God forbid,right?)


Parents need to wake up. Your senseless shame of being a mojado or having an accent when you walk up to a register (which is what I've heard many immigrant adults use) should be turned into pride. How else will your children feel pride in themselves? If you want to keep hearing "No" instead of si, then by all means, keep this going.

What's in my name?

Since I'm dry on material until tonight when I head out to A Mic and Dim Lights, I thought I'd give you some insight on my blog title and pen name.


"Juventud,Divino Tesoro" is a direct line taken from Ruben Dario's poem Cancion de Otono en Primavera, in which he reflects on lovers passed, describing each as a season. The following is the stanza in which he uses the line:

Juventud, divino tesoro,
¡ya te vas para no volver!
Cuando quiero llorar, no lloro...
y a veces lloro sin querer.


Translation:
Youth,divine treasure/You are leaving to never return!/When I want to cry, I do not.../and sometimes, I cry for no reason.

When my father made me read this a couple of years back, I immediately knew it's importance and relevance to me. I first felt close ties to it because of the poet's iconic status in Nicaragua, my father's homeland. Second, I just "got" it. We are only young once, appreciate all you have in the present,you know, all the cliche's...As for the second half of the stanza...superfluous youthful hormonal reactions? We have all had them. I just felt this line was an appropriate general title so that nothing will seem too out of place.It's not deep...everything written on here will be coming from a 20 year old...so there.

-Dario:Essential in any Nicaraguan household.

Frida's Twin. When I turned in my blog's url, my adviser asked "Does that mean what I think it does?" Yes, it does. I don't know how many people, have told me,especially after the biopic on her life came out, that I look like Frida Kahlo...thank to the occasional uniting of the brows,most likely,(T.M.I.,i know.)
(The truth is that I'm lying.More people have said I look like the actress who portrays the Mexican artist...you know who! I just never want to admit/insist on that in case a party besides the one who told me I look like her should come along and say in a loud, obnoxious voice, "YOU LOOK NOTHING LIKE HER!" Ouch,says my self-consciousness!) Anyway, along with resembling her, I admire her courageous art, what she wore, and how she,as the film depicted, had that unstoppable passion. Her political,Communist agenda I pay no mind to.


I hope you've gotten something out of this explanation.






- Thanks for having me look at something...and for the look itself!

The haunting train horn sound...

*A calm and reflective Juan, local business owner, looks on at the scene.

It was a Monday night like any other. My friend and I were eating pan dulce from the small Mexican bakery on 2nd street in Pomona. The only thing out of the norm was that we could not step into our usual independently owned hooka cafe Zamir's for some tea. For this reason we were sipping on some tea from the Starbucks chain. Buying from this mainstream giant may have just allowed us to peek into the devastating last moments of a woman's life.


Sitting at these benches across from The Glasshouse went hand in hand with another routine: watching the Union Pacific train go by. We heard it off in the distance. Maybe it was the monotony of seeing the I don't know how many dirty box cars go by with the faded white letters spread across. It might have been wanting to observe the eerie ghost like emptiness of the usually overcrowded 2nd street center.Whatever the reason, we both looked north with curiosity.




At that moment, we saw a young female with the dangerously close speed of Usain Bold darting across about 30 yards away from where we were sitting...toward the train. Now, there are about three yellow caution signs clearly stating that trains are not to sound their horns under any circumstance, I would think for the abundant businesses and amount of people that reside within the area. That was disregarded as the conductor surely saw the girl running toward. My boyfriend was sure that he saw the lights of the train flash upon her. Just as quickly as it takes for a ray of light to reach an object, she was gone. I was positive that I had seen her reach the other side. Now, I know that it was only my mind wanting so badly for that to have been the outcome.

Right:The train comes to
a halt.


After I sat down for a few minutes with the mentality that she had survived, I cursed this "stupid young girl" for playing chicken, and how all of our thrill seeking generation was the same, playing with their lives one way or another, this being uttered not completely knowing what the result had been. My friend had said something about the whole scene being out of an action movie, a "kamikaze" scene. "Want to go look?" was the next thing asked. With hesitance, I said yes.



We made our way across the abandoned and low lit parking lot. As we approached the gate that separated us from this immense transportation giant, we smelled what had been the result of the train's wheels coming to a terribly noisy halt, a burnt and ghostly scent. As we looked to our left,the police had arrived which brought uncontrollable tears to my eyes. Then, we heard them:the ambulance sirens.I was still in denial.We ran down to the next street behind the seemingly abandoned buildings and pieces of this bleak puzzle were coming together.Two fire engines were in front of the scene, accompanied by 3 police cars. A business owner by the name of Juan soon after came along and asked us what had been happening. At that moment I realized that my boyfriend and I and those driving the train were the only ones who saw what happened. We saw what would be her last steps on this Earth.Juan commented that in his 20 years he had never witnessed caution tape covering those tracks.



What my eyes absorbed that night I cannot deny. She ran...ran to the train. I try to justify this by saying that she may have been running to her car which might have been located at the Pomona Transit station, just on the other side of the tracks. There is no way. There is no way that at the precise moment that the train was in full speed she decided that she needed, more than anything, more than her life,even,to get to her vehicle. I only remember her silhouette surrounded by street lamps looking as if they were taken out of the darkest Dr.Jekyll and Mr.Hyde chapter. When I read on thedailybreeze.com that she was reported as "walking across a stretch of railroad tracks," I could not feel more saddened. This was premeditated. To think that she did it with a purpose to put an end to her life is somewhere I don't want to reach.Maybe I am assuming too much. Maybe I'm thinking too much about her life.What she was running to, I cannot say that I truly know what it was to. With her speed it was evident that she was determined to get to her destination.I would like to think that by analyzing, I am keeping some kind of memory of her alive. I have searched and there is no additional information written on this. Whether you all agree with it or not, I went to the police and will report what I witnessed to them tomorrow. It would be great if we could all keep her in mind, no matter what the reasoning for this to happen was.

*Seeing these images would surprise anyone, for it is as if you were in her head,on the way to your demise.It just gives one deeper perspective and hopefully adds for reflection.






*Where,as we know it, she began running.







Photos by "...je suis l'art..."

Babas put their "carismatico" faces on

The band I'd like to describe as "sexy Argentine alt. rock" played the new Club Nokia in the L.A. Live district Thursday night. Upon arrival, I was surprised to see how empty the place was. There was plenty of room on the half circle standing area,so much so that for once you anxiously awaited more bodies so you'd be able to get pressed up onto the stage,(that wish was fulfilled,of course.) The scene was amazing, with the multicolored lights changing every 5-10 seconds, keeping the place full of that "night life" feel. Everything seemed polished and the velvet curtain looming overhead kept true to the theater feel.

Wondering why I haven't gotten to the actual band yet? Because I was luckily so distracted by the landscape during the two opening bands. Do not get me wrong! I give total props to bands doing their thing in the music world as long as their heart is in it but they just were not my cup of tea. Blink 182, Alison, Panda, and Simple Plan fans would have most likely been in awe of...

Let's get to the good stuff.

Once bursting onto the stage after idly standing by through two mediocre hours of Vinilo Versus and the quartet from Colombia,Don Tetto, the crowd was in for a night full of sexual impact brought on by Babasonicos...should I add a retro in there? Every member looked like some type of 60's era icon. The keyboardist, Diegio "Una-T" Tuñon, seemed like a young Phil Spektor/Warhol and was in a whole other galaxy where only the richest musical energy prevails. Drummer Diego "Panza" Castellano was completely involved with the music and kept precise speed through the varying time in each song throughout the entire show, and was eerily similar looking to Robert Downey Jr. with a fro. Mariano "Roger" Domínguez was the typically overly sensual with good looks guitarist that takes groupies backstage,literally. He had a female wait for him...from the crowd! Lead singer Adrian "Dárgelos" Rodriguez was the most open of all. Front and center as a short and flamboyant mop top crooner, he reacted as though he was preforming borderline sexual self-service purely through facial expression that entranced the audience. Team him up with bassist Diego Rodriguez with his Dylan-esque features complete with Elvis Presley stance and groove, and you have got the most modern old school super group. Just do not call it imitation because these men have styles all their own.

Playing tracks spanning from all of their works including "Anoche," "Infame," and "Mucho" albums, the Babas had the crowd engaged with each track. Through actively moving all across the stage, Diego Rodriguez, Adrian, and Dominguez added much to see to go along with their impeccable sound. "Putita," one of the band's more risque tracks,which boasts about why a certain female is so goddess like,had everyone in the crowd show their overwhelming vocal support from the commencing acoustic strumming all the way to the final echoes of the chorus.
"Carismatico," a more bouncy track,was equally revered,especially during the round in the closing lines, which the audience more than happily made possible by each side simultaniously singing "Algunas noches soy facil..."(some nights, I'm easy,) and the other taking"Tengo que aprender a fingir mas..." (I must learn to pretend better.) Babasonicos' song themes range from twenty somethings in heat to young malse lustfully thirsting for fame in a world where he is surely unrecognized. Whichever record it is, one is sure to find something erotic to the ears,(sometimes I even feel slightly unfaithful to my boyfriend listening to them) what with Adrian's milky voice and darker keys,starry-beachy guitar feel at times, and intense (not overwhelming) drums.



I give thanks and praise for this quintet that seemto be the product of a time machine, physically. In depth of content and entertainment, they know exactly what the modern day college aged and above want:sex.If you want to see a band where you're not sure if you should go to confession the next morning, a Babasonicos show is the for you.


*Photos by "...je suis l'art..."

Blood on the Border

The title of Roxanne Dunbar Ortiz's memoir is an appropriate way to describe the ongoing instability taking place in Mexico during the recent years. With the latest result being 20 inmates slain in a Juarez prison, and the death count over all being 7,000, the danger is more evident than ever. According to the Los Angeles Times, rival gangs brought about this result, but should innocent family members pay the price as well?
We have all known immigrants to flee Mexico due to economic hardships or breaking away from tyrant leader. In this case, family members are asking for asylum in the U.S. due to family members being murdered for linking back to these "narcos." They do this at their own risk because once they ask for it, they must either go into seclusion or get thrown in jail. Should this be? Sure, they are not fighting against Fidel's communist grip through the Olympics but they're in danger.
Once CNN brings up the question whether or not this whole ordeal is just a distraction from our economic hardships, then we know these helpless people are in trouble. As if we have not been slapped in the face with the headlines "recession," "bailout," and "layoffs" enough...This is world news! Our neighbors are in trouble and, though not the most legal thing in the world, we should pay attention and help in any way.

*Photo: Taken by Victor Calzada for El Paso Times
Journalist Emilio Gutierrez Soto with attorney has been threatened
by drug cartels and was thrown in jail in El Paso.
"I was prepared to stay in jail as long as it took, since I'm a dead man
in Mexico," he said according to the L.A. Times.