Between the suns

Bouganvillia

Bouganvillia (Photo credit: Peej’s Photos)

I’m sitting in the sun at school. I’ve written emails. The snack machine hums, the ashtray smells like cigarettes. Palm fronds scrape and a wind blows some dried orange flowers onto the tiles in one gust. Part of the wall is flush with bougainvillea.

Yesterday at the vegetarian restaurant: carrot and lettuce salad with sesame seeds and oil; broccoli soup; tacos with soy protein; strawberry jelly; redcurrant cordial.

In the plaza indigenes were protesting for rights (I think—the banners were in Spanish) before the Palacio del Gobierno. A lady addressed the Palacio through a megaphone held by a boy, the protesters spaced out facing the building. One security guard watched from the doorway, and a pair of police passed on segways. The ladies wore long red poncho dresses over their clothes and flat slippers, and after a while they all rolled up their banners and piled their fluoro posters together, huddled and dispersed, and someone peeked down from one of the upper balconies of the Palacio and then closed the door.

In the evening we saw the film The Impossible about the Boxing Day Tsunami. An old lady is talking to the boy about the stars and and tells him some of the stars are now dead although their lights remain visible. ‘How do you know which ones are alive and which ones are dead?’ he asks. ‘Well that’s impossible to know’ she says.

I watched a TED talk by Eve Ensler of The Vagina Monologues. She says, not verbatim, when we give the world what we want the most it heals the broken heart inside each of us. Happiness exists in action, in telling the truth, and saying what your truth is, and it exists in giving away what you want the most.

From Rilke as for the rest, let life happen to you. Believe me: life is in the right, always. 

We go to yoga, we jog at night around the athletics track. The air is cold but the wind is warm. The young man calls me at midnight on Wednesday to see if I want to come to ‘the party’, which is apparently rather pumping.

I mark in my notebook something from the Winter Happiness Summit. Stephanie Dowrick says, not verbatim, All great teachers say it is those moments of connection, tenderness, forgiveness, understanding, dance, joy, that make life worth living.

In class and in the courtyard we practice irregular verbs and question words, and ask questions about our countries, the weather, the food, and find some jokes even in simple language.

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