magda and i have been collecting all the documents the kiddos need to get their passports and visas throughout the past month or so (ever since we found out that the DC trip was actually happening). this whole process definitely has made me realize how lucky i am to have been born in the US because for us to travel ANYWHERE in the world really doesn't take more than a passport... here to GET a passport itself costs about $100 US (of course the kids can't afford this, fabretto is paying for that) and beyond a passport, to go anywhere outside of the country you need to apply for a travelers visa. just to have an APPOINTMENT with the american embassy in managua costs $100. put those two costs together with the amount of traveling, paperwork, etc. and it basically costs an average family's YEARLY INCOME to get a passport and a visa to go to the US (not even including the actual travel to the US itself). ridiculous, meaning that i'd guess about 3% of the people here get to travel outside the country in their lives.
at first i'd been under the impresson that if we were able to collect these papers (original documents, birth certificates of both parents and kids which becomes a bit difficult when some parents were born about 10 hours away by bus and there's no such thing as a telephone signal or fed-ex here) we'd be well on our way to reciving passports. i found out that we needed to deal with a lawyer... and it's all been downhill since then. apparently these kids need a "special letter" in order to get their passports in the first place, even though one of each kids' parents will be accompanying us to the migracion office. this wouldn't be such a big deal but 1) fabretto's lawyer is located in MANAGUA and 2) for whatever reason a LOT of the kids were blessed with ENTIRELY different names than both of their parents... meaning the lawyer needs MONTHS to fix the problems on their birth certificates (though for some reason she's able to fix some of them in a few days... something which i do not understand in the least). so i brought all the paperwork we've collected thus far to managua last friday in hopes of meeting with the lawyer and getting stuff sorted out... hoping to return to cusmapa on sunday. HA!!!! what a ridiculous hope that was. i ended up finding out that 6 of the 20 kids that didn't have passports just simply COULDN'T go on the trip.... that there was nothing i could do, if only i had a freaking TYPEWRITER and could fix the type-o's on their birth certificates, those one or two mistaken letters that are ruining this opportunity. i also found out that for about 4 of the kids who had problems, the lawyer could fix things... but needed me to return to cusmapa, go to the civil registration office, fix the birth certificates, and bring them back to managua. something i am both willing and capable of doing. i finally ended up getting back to cusmapa WEDNESDAY after a lot of waiting around, worrying...
thursday i spent all day in the civil registration office. walking into this 10 X 15 foot room the first thing i noticed were the 3 bookshelves on the wall which appeared to hold ALL the important documents in Cusmapa's history. dated, numbered, PAPER information... though Lenin (the assistant) had a computer to use... everything else was CATALOGUED. of COURSE Panchita (the mom of one of the girls who's going on the trip, and the ONLY person in Cusmapa who's capable of finding things in that mountainous mound of paperwork) was conveniently in Managua for the week. Lenin and I had to find 60-some documents, the first 15 or so of which he looked up and just shrugged his shoulders like "OH WELL" when he couldn't find them, and told me they must have been "repositioned" (whatever the heck that's supposed to mean). about 40 documents into the search i was beginning to get really frustrated because we were NOT having any kind of luck, and it was rapidly approaching 5 PM. at that very moment of exasperation the POWER WENT OUT. one of those moments where tears jumped to my eyes but i found myself laughing anyways. he couldn't type out any of the documents without his computer, so we ended up looking up the rest of the documents and marking them in the books with pieces of paper so that we could find them the next day. Lenin also informed me at this point that he couldn't do the new birth certificates, that i'd have to wait for Panchita to get back (NEXT monday or tuesday) for her to help me. i walked back to the school to try to find magda, and we looked through our collection of parent identification cards to find those she needed to take to Las Savannas the next day to track down their birth certificates, but it kept getting darker and darker and we were left with no ability to see names on the cards. just then, a huge clap of thunder and it started a DOWNPOUR of rain. at this point, there were no tears... more just laughter as i NEEDED to bring my computer home to work on organizing our info for a parent meeting the next day. so i stuck my backpack in a plastic bag and said a quick prayer of "why am i stupidly bringing out this electronic equipment into a nicaraguan rainstorm?!" and decided to take my chances. luckily the rain let up after a few minutes, so my computer was just fine.
i got back to my house to find that there were about 15 people staying the night, and since we hadn't had water the whole week things were in a disasterous state of filth. dishes everywhere, people everywhere. my friend arturo watched me make a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich and told me i looked "worried" then said, "we have NO LIGHT and i've heard it's not coming back until Sunday!" in a jolly tone and i just shook my head. I NEED LIGHT. the boys were all jovially eating dinner and sharing beers, but i just wasn't in the mood. so i locked myself up in my room and started writing a letter by candlelight to one of my buddies, trying to calm my worries down a bit and to let go of things that i was so OBVIOUSLY unable to control. about half-way into my letter the lights flickered and CAME BACK ON! i was giddy happy, and ran into the living room parading around and whooping, which the guys got a huge laugh out of.
friday i spent the morning searching through more books, and unable to find at least 15 out of the 60 documents we need for the kids visas, i returned to school to plan our parent meeting. i got there and wasn't expecting to see magda but apparently she'd gone all the way to Las Sabannas only to find that the woman who did the registration papers there was WORKING IN SOMOTO till monday. typical.
i spent a few hours putting together some info on the documents we still needed, and sorting out why the 6 kids who couldn't go so i could talk to their parents, then jorje and i hiked up to the public school to find the director to ask if our permission for the kids to miss school had been approved. SOMETHING FINALLY WENT OUR WAY! the director was there, and very kind, and wanted me to know that not only was it OK for the kids to be missing school, but he thought it was a wonderful opportunity for them, and wanted me to tell the kids that their tests would be rescheduled to before our trip so they didn't have to worry about anything while they were gone. the parent meeting was supposed to start at 3 PM, and at 3:15 there were approximately 3 parents there, so I waited for another few to show up, and since magda wasn't there I just started right in. i'm pretty sure there were a lot of blank faces in the crowd and many of them didn't seem to understand what i was talking about (i don't blame them! i barely understood myself!). after the meeting (which most of the parents ended up showing up to at about 3:45) i had each of them come talk to me about the paperwork their kid still needed, and how we could go about getting it. some of the parents just told me flat out that it would be "impossible" to get their original birth certificates, and i told them that if this was the case their kid could not go on the trip. what a predicament. there were also a handful of the choir kids there who came to talk to me about problems with their papers and i hated not being able to really explain to them why they couldn't go, why some kids' problems were getting fixed and theirs weren't. a few of them seemed really bummed out, and others reacted with a "i didn't want to go anyway" type of attitude. i felt devistated, really sad, and helpless- i wish there was something i could do. i kept telling them that i wished i was a lawyer so i could do something more about it, but that i couldn't. two of my favorite girls in the choir, belen and aleyda came and talked to me individually and it ended with them having to leave because we could both sense that the other was about to burst into tears. it was awful. especially because aleyda's one of the cousins of the family i hang out with all the time, and her brother died last year- and he'd been in the choir and had gone to the states in 2004 when they travelled to chicago and colorado... YUK. i knew this was going to happen, but it didn't make things any easier.
i've also been feeling sick for the last week or so (i think my intestines are finally realizing all the yucky parasites they've fought and are giving in a little bit). but i woke up saturday morning and felt like absolute hell. i had told a group of nurses who were visiting Cusmapa for the weekend and didn't speak any Spanish that i'd show them around, so i put my best healthy face forward but the whole day i felt like i was going to pass out. i probably drank about a gallon of water, and took some pepto bismol, and just felt worse and worse. this morning i woke up in a cold sweat at 7 AM and tossed and turned for a few hours, ate some bananas (felt like i had to eat something, but it was not a good idea) then went to bed until 3 PM (something i haven't done since i've been here... but i just felt exhausted and feverish). i started taking some prescription meds my mom sent with me but i am still feeling terrible, and just thinking it's SO typical that my body would choose this moment in time to break down.
cindy and magda are headed to managua tomorrow for cindy's surgery and will probably be gone till wednesday, and i need to get this paperwork done with Panchita as soon as she gets back (i'm hoping she'll be there when I visit this evening- though she was also in managua for a surgery on her little boy who i think has some sort of cerebral palsy) and then head to managua myself... BEFORE tuesday if at all possible. my body is failing me, something which does not happen often. i'm so bad at being sick, because i've been so lucky and healthy for most of my life... i'm just praying that these meds kick in soon cause there's no way i could make it to managua in my current state.
things have got to go up from here, eh?!
lunes, 14 de mayo de 2007
camera man
a few weekends ago i took a trip to quilali (a little mountain-valley town in central nica) with 20 of my middle school choir girls, 15 of the older choir kids, and about 7 random Cusmapanians. we started off from Cusmapa at about 10 AM (a good hour and a half behind schedule) and i had the distinct honor of sitting in the front seat of one of the two trucks we took on the journey with two ten-year-olds on my lap for the entire 6 hours. yes, we had two trucks for 42-odd people. quilali's this little middle-of-nowhere town with about 15,000 people in it, which means it's much more modern than Cusmapa and feels like a metropolis. we were scheudled to sing at a Catholic mass at 6 PM so we had a few hours to hang out, eat some lunch, and explore before church. the Catholic church was HUGE (compared to the one i'm used to up here) and was all decked out in pink ribbons and flowers for a quincenera birthday celebration (the girls in Nicaragua have a huge "coming of age" party for their 15th birthday which is basically her parents sending her out into the dating world, putting her on the market- it's a bigger celebration than weddings here). the celebrated girl st up front of the church in her Glenda the Good Witch dress, and our chior was crammed up into the second level music pit with no airflow up a rickety spiral staircase with a broken railing (not a super-pleasant situation). i was fascinated by the event's camer man who seemed to be hyped on some sort of amphetamines, he was rushing around the church panning over the audience in a completely ridiculous and skitterish manner. i'm sure the film was a blur of faces. he was also taping the choir and i kept thinking about how funny it was that some random girl will have me, a wierd gringa, on her quincenera video. little did i know...
so after the mass we walked out of the church to join a procession, led by the Good Witch in all of her glory, down about 6 blocks to the family home. Don Trino's guitar provided a lovely and appropriate soundtrack for the moment, and i held hands with jubelki and dignah and whistled happily at the stars while trying to get them to spin in circles with me. everyone else seemed awfully somber for what i imagined to be a joyous event in this girl's life, but i was really chipper about the whole thing (probably more chipper about getting out of that hellhole of a sauna music pit than anything). still, the camera man came out of nowhere ever onec in a while- paparazzi style, and i was in a jovial mood thinking about his film footage and just loving the moment. when we arrived at the family home/reception there was an awkward "do we go in?" moment (and by moment i mean about 5 minutes). of course all of the little girls wanted to go to the party, and i could tell that the older kids and i were feeling... well... very awkward. the mother/hostess said she wanted a picture of us and motioned for our group to sit at the tables in the front of the room (um... no thanks) so we sort of booked it with half of the girls (the other half had already sat down). we got back to the Padre's house (where we'd stored all of our bags and stuff) and found it LOCKED. (typical)
the lady who was in charge of our group there was hell-bent on getting us all to the party (though she was trying to be nonchalant about it, her motives were completely transparent). i found myself in the back of a truck with her and a bunch of the little girls (pleading "WHY?!" the whole time) as the older girls chose to stay curbside and wait for our return. at that point i just wanted to eat and go to bed, and i could see exactly where this evening was headed. another awkward moment at the party... when we got to the reception ALL of the girls started to pile out (though i had been assured that we were just making the trip back there in order to get the key) and i looked at Beranay (one of the older choir girls) like "are you KIDDING ME?!". so, with a heavy sigh, i resigned to my destiny. of course i ended up seated at the table in the very front of the room (obviously where i was fated to have been seated in the first place) and could not stop laughing. it was such a hilarity to me that none of us knew this girl, we totally crashed the party, and the 4 little ones I was seated with picked at their food (which looked a heck of a lot like beef with mayonayse sauce) and giggled with me.
AND, the camera man came back into my life. true hilarity ensues.
round one: he slowly creeps by, pans across the table, does a triple take long lingering shot of me that the kids notice and laugh at.
round two:
He: "Hi. MY NAME'S EDMOND. DO YOU SPEAK INKLISH?" (no i do not just have my caps key on for the heck of it, he was sort of yelling in my face in monotone, camera still rolling in his right hand)
Me: "Yes. I'm from the United States." (in Spanish)
He: "Oh yes. You speak Spanish?" (I nod) "I have question. I study in Mexico. What... what you think about women?"
Me: "Women? Like women, in general?"
He: "You know, women here, somen in Mexico. They good?"
Me: "No. I think things are getting better for women, but I don't think they're good."
He: "Oh." (as in one of those "OH's" I so often use when I don't have a clue what somebody actually said to me). "I mean abortion."
Me: "What do I think about ABORTION?!"
(remember, the camera is still rolling and we are yelling at each other, he at me for no reason- me at him for clarity's sake)
He: "Yes. Abortion. Many women in Mexico have abortion."
Me: "Yes. And it's illegal here. Do you think it should be illegal?"
(abortion was just legalized in Mexico City, much to the disgust of the Catholic Church - and was just made illegal in Nicaragua last November, even in situations where the woman will die if she doesn't have the abortion)
He: "Yes. I mean... Yes. And you?"
Me: "Well, what if a woman will die if she doesn't have an abortion?"
He: WHAT?! MUCH SLOWER PLEASE.
Me: "WHAT IF A WOMAN WILL DIE IF SHE DOES NOT HAVE AN ABORTION?"
He: "Oh. It's OK."
(at this point he walks off to do another go-round the room and I am in tears thinking "my GOD is that how I sound when I speak Spanish?")
round three:
He: "I have other question. You know cowboy movies?"
Me: (lying) "Yes, I do."
He: "Clint Eastwood, you know him?"
Me: "Yes, I do."
He: "Good. I have question. You know that bad war?"
Me: "The Iraq war? Yeah, It's BAD."
He: "NO NO NO NO, the war... in the century... with the North?"
Me: (incredulous) "Um. You mean the Civil War?" (am I really having a discussion about the Civil War on video camera at a random girl's quincenera party in the middle of Nicaragua?)
He: "Yes. That one. Why was it?"
Me: "Why did we have a civil war?"
He: (nods)
Me: "Well... the South wanted slavery and the north didn't."
He: "Slavery?"
Me: "Yes, slavery." (he nods in understanding though I can tell he's never heard the word before, and I have no idea how to explain that concept in Spanish... here's what I could get across with my current level of Espanol: ' slavery... cuando una persona es propia de un otra persona, y necessita travajar por la otra persona por gratis' ... direct translation ' slavery... when one person is property of another person and must work for the other person for free'. i knew how ridiculous the concept was in the first place so didn't even try to explain it to him)
He: "My question. Who won the war? In the Clint movie the war was not won?"
Me: "Who won the Civil war?" (which I realize is a pretty valid question)
He: "Yes, who won?"
Me: "Well, do we have slaves in the states?"
He: (long thinking pause) "I do not know."
Me: "No, no we don't. The North won."
He: "Oh, the NORTH?! Thank you. And that president?"
Me: "Lincolin?"
He: "Yes, Lincolin was a... a man."
Me: (giving him a break by finishing his thought) "Lincolin was a GOOD MAN."
and, finally, round four:
He: "You are a student?"
Me: "No, I am a teacher. I am their choir teacher." (point to the giggling kids sitting around me)
He: "Oh, a teacher."
Me: "Yes."
He: (with great conviction) "I can tell YOU LOVE JESUS."
Me: (WHAT?! ... a smile with tears in my eyes holding it in...)
He: "Yes, I can tell you love Jesus Christ because you work with kids."
Me: (oh God just please please please hold in this oncoming burst of laughter Callie)
He: "And it's in your eyes. And you know, psychologists say: the eyes are the window to soul."
Me: "Yes, yes that's true." (holding my composure by a thread)
He: "Yes, yes you love Jesus. I'm a painter."
Me: "Oh, you are?"He: "Yes, I paint things that are important to me. I have a painting of an eagle with four chickens. And the mother chicken died for her babies. She was a sacrifice like Jesus."
Me: "That sounds beautiful." (fueling the fire, feeling like a bastard for doing it, but I couldn't help myself)
He: "Yes, yes. I'm a painter. I have 4 paintings."
Me: "FOUR PAINTINGS?!"He: "Yes, four."
(at this point, the power went out... chaos ensued... candles were lit and he still tried to carry on a conversation for a mintue though our group was trying to make an invisible exit out the side door)
He: "Nice to know you!"
Me: "You too." (you have NO idea).
i think the greatest part is that literally the whole of our conversing was taped and that simple awkwardness of being at a formal dinner i wasn't invited to (it would basically be the equvalent of going to a wedding in a small town where you didn't know anyone, the whole town was invited, and you just showed up only to sit at the front table and monopolize the photographer). he was glorious, and made me absolutely gleeful and also made me realize how really ridiculous i must sound about 95% of the time i speak spanish. i just hope i don't yell at people in monotone very often, it's definately not something i intentionally do... but i suppose you never know!
so after the mass we walked out of the church to join a procession, led by the Good Witch in all of her glory, down about 6 blocks to the family home. Don Trino's guitar provided a lovely and appropriate soundtrack for the moment, and i held hands with jubelki and dignah and whistled happily at the stars while trying to get them to spin in circles with me. everyone else seemed awfully somber for what i imagined to be a joyous event in this girl's life, but i was really chipper about the whole thing (probably more chipper about getting out of that hellhole of a sauna music pit than anything). still, the camera man came out of nowhere ever onec in a while- paparazzi style, and i was in a jovial mood thinking about his film footage and just loving the moment. when we arrived at the family home/reception there was an awkward "do we go in?" moment (and by moment i mean about 5 minutes). of course all of the little girls wanted to go to the party, and i could tell that the older kids and i were feeling... well... very awkward. the mother/hostess said she wanted a picture of us and motioned for our group to sit at the tables in the front of the room (um... no thanks) so we sort of booked it with half of the girls (the other half had already sat down). we got back to the Padre's house (where we'd stored all of our bags and stuff) and found it LOCKED. (typical)
the lady who was in charge of our group there was hell-bent on getting us all to the party (though she was trying to be nonchalant about it, her motives were completely transparent). i found myself in the back of a truck with her and a bunch of the little girls (pleading "WHY?!" the whole time) as the older girls chose to stay curbside and wait for our return. at that point i just wanted to eat and go to bed, and i could see exactly where this evening was headed. another awkward moment at the party... when we got to the reception ALL of the girls started to pile out (though i had been assured that we were just making the trip back there in order to get the key) and i looked at Beranay (one of the older choir girls) like "are you KIDDING ME?!". so, with a heavy sigh, i resigned to my destiny. of course i ended up seated at the table in the very front of the room (obviously where i was fated to have been seated in the first place) and could not stop laughing. it was such a hilarity to me that none of us knew this girl, we totally crashed the party, and the 4 little ones I was seated with picked at their food (which looked a heck of a lot like beef with mayonayse sauce) and giggled with me.
AND, the camera man came back into my life. true hilarity ensues.
round one: he slowly creeps by, pans across the table, does a triple take long lingering shot of me that the kids notice and laugh at.
round two:
He: "Hi. MY NAME'S EDMOND. DO YOU SPEAK INKLISH?" (no i do not just have my caps key on for the heck of it, he was sort of yelling in my face in monotone, camera still rolling in his right hand)
Me: "Yes. I'm from the United States." (in Spanish)
He: "Oh yes. You speak Spanish?" (I nod) "I have question. I study in Mexico. What... what you think about women?"
Me: "Women? Like women, in general?"
He: "You know, women here, somen in Mexico. They good?"
Me: "No. I think things are getting better for women, but I don't think they're good."
He: "Oh." (as in one of those "OH's" I so often use when I don't have a clue what somebody actually said to me). "I mean abortion."
Me: "What do I think about ABORTION?!"
(remember, the camera is still rolling and we are yelling at each other, he at me for no reason- me at him for clarity's sake)
He: "Yes. Abortion. Many women in Mexico have abortion."
Me: "Yes. And it's illegal here. Do you think it should be illegal?"
(abortion was just legalized in Mexico City, much to the disgust of the Catholic Church - and was just made illegal in Nicaragua last November, even in situations where the woman will die if she doesn't have the abortion)
He: "Yes. I mean... Yes. And you?"
Me: "Well, what if a woman will die if she doesn't have an abortion?"
He: WHAT?! MUCH SLOWER PLEASE.
Me: "WHAT IF A WOMAN WILL DIE IF SHE DOES NOT HAVE AN ABORTION?"
He: "Oh. It's OK."
(at this point he walks off to do another go-round the room and I am in tears thinking "my GOD is that how I sound when I speak Spanish?")
round three:
He: "I have other question. You know cowboy movies?"
Me: (lying) "Yes, I do."
He: "Clint Eastwood, you know him?"
Me: "Yes, I do."
He: "Good. I have question. You know that bad war?"
Me: "The Iraq war? Yeah, It's BAD."
He: "NO NO NO NO, the war... in the century... with the North?"
Me: (incredulous) "Um. You mean the Civil War?" (am I really having a discussion about the Civil War on video camera at a random girl's quincenera party in the middle of Nicaragua?)
He: "Yes. That one. Why was it?"
Me: "Why did we have a civil war?"
He: (nods)
Me: "Well... the South wanted slavery and the north didn't."
He: "Slavery?"
Me: "Yes, slavery." (he nods in understanding though I can tell he's never heard the word before, and I have no idea how to explain that concept in Spanish... here's what I could get across with my current level of Espanol: ' slavery... cuando una persona es propia de un otra persona, y necessita travajar por la otra persona por gratis' ... direct translation ' slavery... when one person is property of another person and must work for the other person for free'. i knew how ridiculous the concept was in the first place so didn't even try to explain it to him)
He: "My question. Who won the war? In the Clint movie the war was not won?"
Me: "Who won the Civil war?" (which I realize is a pretty valid question)
He: "Yes, who won?"
Me: "Well, do we have slaves in the states?"
He: (long thinking pause) "I do not know."
Me: "No, no we don't. The North won."
He: "Oh, the NORTH?! Thank you. And that president?"
Me: "Lincolin?"
He: "Yes, Lincolin was a... a man."
Me: (giving him a break by finishing his thought) "Lincolin was a GOOD MAN."
and, finally, round four:
He: "You are a student?"
Me: "No, I am a teacher. I am their choir teacher." (point to the giggling kids sitting around me)
He: "Oh, a teacher."
Me: "Yes."
He: (with great conviction) "I can tell YOU LOVE JESUS."
Me: (WHAT?! ... a smile with tears in my eyes holding it in...)
He: "Yes, I can tell you love Jesus Christ because you work with kids."
Me: (oh God just please please please hold in this oncoming burst of laughter Callie)
He: "And it's in your eyes. And you know, psychologists say: the eyes are the window to soul."
Me: "Yes, yes that's true." (holding my composure by a thread)
He: "Yes, yes you love Jesus. I'm a painter."
Me: "Oh, you are?"He: "Yes, I paint things that are important to me. I have a painting of an eagle with four chickens. And the mother chicken died for her babies. She was a sacrifice like Jesus."
Me: "That sounds beautiful." (fueling the fire, feeling like a bastard for doing it, but I couldn't help myself)
He: "Yes, yes. I'm a painter. I have 4 paintings."
Me: "FOUR PAINTINGS?!"He: "Yes, four."
(at this point, the power went out... chaos ensued... candles were lit and he still tried to carry on a conversation for a mintue though our group was trying to make an invisible exit out the side door)
He: "Nice to know you!"
Me: "You too." (you have NO idea).
i think the greatest part is that literally the whole of our conversing was taped and that simple awkwardness of being at a formal dinner i wasn't invited to (it would basically be the equvalent of going to a wedding in a small town where you didn't know anyone, the whole town was invited, and you just showed up only to sit at the front table and monopolize the photographer). he was glorious, and made me absolutely gleeful and also made me realize how really ridiculous i must sound about 95% of the time i speak spanish. i just hope i don't yell at people in monotone very often, it's definately not something i intentionally do... but i suppose you never know!
miércoles, 9 de mayo de 2007
opportunities in yahda-yahdaing
the fabretto bigwig in DC who's organizing our trip in june writes that i should "let the kids know this trip is about work and not all about play". i feel cut to the core by this comment... does she have any idea what this means? or how it feels like a personal cut at me? of course i'm not expecting to be galavanting around the city skipping along without a care in the world when i'm responsible for taking care of 30 kids! of COURSE i realize that i'll have to be doing a bit of puckering up to appease the other rich folks who've provided us with this opportunity. but my question is this: what kind of OPPORTUNITY are they "PROVIDING" for us if the kids are going to DC just to be schlepped around from one venue to another singing for private parties with hors d'ouvres and sparkling wine and marble floors and hand-shaking and name-dropping and all the bullshit things that go along with the public relations and business world?
my next question is how the heck i ended up being a public relations major in college? (though i have known the irony of this for some time- ever since i showed up at a "shadow-a-professional day" in my normal clothes and everyone else there was wearing four inch tall stiletto heels and a business suit... talk about being a sore thumb! i probably stuck out more in that room than i ever will being a gringa in nicaragua).
i refuse to tell my kids that this trip's not about FUN because that's ridiculous. another thing that's just eating away slowly at my choir director's SOUL is that the same bigwig also wrote to me that "it's OK if there's 5-6 kids that can't go. and it's OK if at our international choir festival concert we don't have enough kids to really sound good because THAT'S THE LEAST IMPORTANT CONCERT PR-WISE". are you KIDDING me LADY? what's that supposed to mean? just because we're not being PAID to be at this festival makes it UNIMPORTANT?! for me, this concert is the REASON we are going to the US in the first place- so that my choir kids will have the OPPORTUNITY to interact with kids from all over the world, and will get to experience the marvelous harmonies found in creating art with other children. HOWEVER according to the money money money worldview, of course this would be the least important part of our trip.
ironic and sad that she's using the festival as an excuse to get the choir to the US to use us for a PR campaign, that the festival seems to be pretty important when donors are considered yet loses it's importance somehow in the mix of things. what it really comes down to is i am so frustrated that these kids are looking forward to having time to spend in museums, and experiencing the festival and the city... and instead we'll be running around DC like mad with our instruments going from private concert to private concert... selling our musical souls to make a buck. i suppose i should be grateful for the free trip, and fabretto is paying for everything for these kids to get the trip to DC (which for most of them will be their only trip to the states in a lifetime). but just don't tell me flat out that the trip's going to be about WORK when i'm already fully aware of it.
i figured i knew how things worked in the world of tax-refundable donations but now i'm certain.
all work and no play means a world filled with dischord and unhappiness.
so i'll work on my yahda-yahda-yahda skills, suck it up, put my PR smile on (didn't pay for 4 years at GU for nothing!), and trudge to the capital with a twinkle in my eye.
and i'll find a way to work in a bit of my own magic in the meantime,
little does she know that even when i'm working i'm still playing in my own mind!
my next question is how the heck i ended up being a public relations major in college? (though i have known the irony of this for some time- ever since i showed up at a "shadow-a-professional day" in my normal clothes and everyone else there was wearing four inch tall stiletto heels and a business suit... talk about being a sore thumb! i probably stuck out more in that room than i ever will being a gringa in nicaragua).
i refuse to tell my kids that this trip's not about FUN because that's ridiculous. another thing that's just eating away slowly at my choir director's SOUL is that the same bigwig also wrote to me that "it's OK if there's 5-6 kids that can't go. and it's OK if at our international choir festival concert we don't have enough kids to really sound good because THAT'S THE LEAST IMPORTANT CONCERT PR-WISE". are you KIDDING me LADY? what's that supposed to mean? just because we're not being PAID to be at this festival makes it UNIMPORTANT?! for me, this concert is the REASON we are going to the US in the first place- so that my choir kids will have the OPPORTUNITY to interact with kids from all over the world, and will get to experience the marvelous harmonies found in creating art with other children. HOWEVER according to the money money money worldview, of course this would be the least important part of our trip.
ironic and sad that she's using the festival as an excuse to get the choir to the US to use us for a PR campaign, that the festival seems to be pretty important when donors are considered yet loses it's importance somehow in the mix of things. what it really comes down to is i am so frustrated that these kids are looking forward to having time to spend in museums, and experiencing the festival and the city... and instead we'll be running around DC like mad with our instruments going from private concert to private concert... selling our musical souls to make a buck. i suppose i should be grateful for the free trip, and fabretto is paying for everything for these kids to get the trip to DC (which for most of them will be their only trip to the states in a lifetime). but just don't tell me flat out that the trip's going to be about WORK when i'm already fully aware of it.
i figured i knew how things worked in the world of tax-refundable donations but now i'm certain.
all work and no play means a world filled with dischord and unhappiness.
so i'll work on my yahda-yahda-yahda skills, suck it up, put my PR smile on (didn't pay for 4 years at GU for nothing!), and trudge to the capital with a twinkle in my eye.
and i'll find a way to work in a bit of my own magic in the meantime,
little does she know that even when i'm working i'm still playing in my own mind!
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)
