Three months

Another moon in Aquarius. The Moon in Aquarius connects us to our community....We abstract, communicate, and work the crowd, but may be less intimate.


Which community is the moon connecting me to? I feel like a half moon myself, hovering between different worlds. As my program comes to an end, I'm finding myself in yet another transition in life, not quite grounded in anything. And some might recall, transitions scare the shit out of me! At the very least, they throw me in a funk.

Now, I'm faced with the classic, ahhh, I didn't do everything I wanted to do while I was in Valparaíso thoughts, and I'm not ready to leave. I even had a dream that I started selling crafts on the street to make money to stay all summer. I'm also having the ahhh, what am I doing next? thoughts. With my head having been in my project for the past couple weeks, I've been saying, "I have two weeks to travel after the program" without making any plans, whatsoever. After those thoughts come the ahhh, what am I doing this summer? thoughts. I have no idea yet.

Luckily, the Moon in Aquarius reminds us that we are in this together. All my compañeras in the program, who also have to say goodbye to Chile soon; all my friends from home and school who are doing random, awesome, lovely things this summer; the world, who goes through raptures and revolutions and riots* --- we're all transitioning. I started getting all squeamish about it today....but I had the same feeling about three months ago, and everything has turned out WONDERFULLY.

*ask me about the riots

Going Back to High School

It sounds like some people's worst nightmare: going back to high school. For some reason I did it voluntarily. Yes, it's been slightly terrifying. But I keep going back for more.

The Superior Industrial School of Valparaiso is a large orange school that resembles a factory and is full of hundreds of teenage boys (only about twenty girls are sprinkled in the sea of testosterone) who preparing for technical careers -- mechanics, electricity, metallics, etc. It sits right on the highway in between Valparaiso and Viña del Mar. Through a friend of a friend, I ended up there and have been drawn back every day since my first visit. Denisse Montenegro Olguín teaches art at this school. Energetic, eccentric, stylish, and seeping enthusiasm, she is the perfect ally for my project. She lets me hover in her class, sit next to her at her desk and observe, ask question after question -- and she's stoked about the exposition.

"Everybody!" Denisse yells in a big shell of a classroom to introduce me. The students only have art class once a week, so each class I attend is new to me. In the room, huge windows overlook the highway and the ocean, and starch white walls make the cold, gray days even colder and grayer. "This is Liza. She's studying art in schools and will be here to observe you guys. Be good!" Almost forty teenage boys who have been either staring at me or murmuring to their classmates about me before the introduction, greet me in unison and then while most go back to chatting, some ask questions in scattered English or rapid-fire Spanish. "Where you from?" "Ms., what your name?" When I'm feeling ballsy I walk around and start conversations. The other day one boy convinced me to sketch a picture for him while his friends asked me if I knew anything about hydraulic shops in Miami.

While a lot of the students seem to view the obligatory art class as a time to talk to their friends and listen to horrible quality reggaetone on their cell phones while dragging a colored pencil across some paper, I have met a group of students that is passionate about art. Twice a week, apart from their regular classes, about 18 kids meet for an hour for an art workshop, where they do sketches and paintings. They are my saviors. Not only have they befriended me (greeting me with a "Liza!" and a kiss on the cheek every time they see me), accompanied me around the school to protect me from the other boys and even on the bus into Valparaiso, invited me to do some graffiti with them, and answered my questions enthusiastically, but they are also excited to put their artwork in the exposition!

Back at the casa, I've been enjoying some chilean family time. Made pancakes last week for Mother's Day. Went to my brother's school party for families last night. Also helped my brother paint his wall.

Chao, Love

Picture I painted in Sebastian's room

Some murals at the school done by students

The other day I was walking past a cluster of stores when I heard the song, Tubthumping, by Chumbawamba and had a flashback to Marty (cousin), Katie (sister), and myself dancing spastically around Marty's room when we were little. Right in time to the lyrics, we'd throw ourselves on the bed -- I get knocked down -- and then fling back up like rubberbands -- But I get up again. Over and and over again, our actions as repetitive as the lyrics. You ne'er gonna keep me down.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kS-zK1S5Dws


This is how I feel right now with my independent project. Every time I sprawl on the bed of my own discouragement (it's happened a lot), every time I think, "This sucks" (I've thought it a lot), something happens to lift me out of this to where I love Chile! I love my project! I love my life! And I feel just as wound up as Marty, Katie, and I used to get. Kinda like this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qR3rK0kZFkg

What is this so called project I keep talking about? Ok, I want to investigate the art program in various public schools in order to see what kind of options high-schoolers have for creative expression. Why? Various reasons. First, Chile, especially Valparaiso, is a place where art covers the street, yet at the same time people say there is a lack of venue for kids to express themselves. Where is the disconnect? Secondly, Chile has an interesting (neo-liberal) school system with public schools, semi-private schools, and private schools. The disparity in quality of education is greater between private and public schools here than in the US, and it affects everything down to the creativity of the teachers in art programs to the art supplies kids get (at the school I was at today, they don't have paint or pastels, so they use regular ol' color pencils in the advanced art class). My idea is to have an art exposition in a cafe or gallery at the end of the month with a variety of work from high-schoolers who are especially interested in art.

A month sounded like a long time to get the project done --- until I twiddled my thumbs for a whole week. With no teachers to talk to, no students to talk to, no school to go to I felt very discouraged. Many very friendly and helpful people were helping me with connections, but none of them were coming together completely. When my advisor suggested I go to Quillota, an hour away, where she knows a director at a public high school, I was a little hesitant because it's so far away, but thought I might as well get started.

And I loved it! My friend Samantha, who's studying history curriculum in Chilean schools, and I trekked a couple towns over and made our way to the school, where we were very welcomed. Not only did I have my first interview (successful), but we met another gringa there who is teaching there. (I might just have to come back over after graduating and teach a lil ingles). So, I'm going back to attend a class, talk to some students, and have another interview!

It's all happening!

                                                          
Footnote: Luckily I think He drinks a Whisky drink, he drinks a vodka drink, he drinks a lager drink...pissin the night away from Tubthumpin mostly went over my head when I was about six, but I do remember Marty reassuring me that "pissing" wasn't a bad word in this context because it means drinking in British.

Love to all!