Possibilities

If i do leave, and if i were to think about what i'd want to do afterwards without limitations...

I'd like to go to Tromsø and learn norwegian there, for a year, in order to be able to finally integrate myself in this society. After that i might go to Bergen and get some kind of job -i don't care what- while studying physics & chemistry. Then perhaps, after two years, i could go to university and study medicine in there. With luck, by the time i hit 40, i could be a medical doctor and then decide what to do with that. Aerospatial medicine doesn't sound like a bad idea... I would also like to adopt a kid, become a father... I don't know if i'm made for romantic life, so i may never have a partner, but i know i can be a good father.

Another possibility is to continue in education... Wait for a few years and go work at the college in Devin, as a teacher there. Xaviera will retire in a few years and i think i'd like to teach in that place. But somehow that doesn't sound that attractive anymore.

Activism and grassroots movements are another area that does indeed sound very interesting. I see a need for that, in Argentina... But i don't know if i could live there.

Above all, i want my life to have meaning for others, be it my family or a community i may belong to. It's surprising, but never before had i felt so keenly, so certainly, this reality: that a life is meaningless unless you can see it its context, where it's lived: among other lives.

Evaluating

I haven't written here in a while. Guess haven't had much to say... Which says a lot about my everyday life, i suppose. I'm finding it harder and harder to do this job well. I used to believe that, in spite of all the imperfections of the system, the "education" we give these kids was largely positive, but now that conviction is crumbling, bit by bit. That in itself can't be good for the students: a teacher who doesn't believe in what he's doing can't be a good teacher.

I've had my misgivings about the academic side of the program (the international baccalaureate) for a while now. Even though it does attempt to instill critical thinking, it does so in a formulaic, limiting fashion; it presents certain modes and structures of expression as more adequate than others, and i believe that is precisely one of the problems with human relations: we are taught to think that someone's ideas are better than those of others because of their wrapper. And people who can't provide the right wrapper are seen as less valuable -at best- or outright inferior.

But now i've been losing faith about the validity of the rest of the program we provide. Us adults here cannot deal constructively with each other. Most everyone is entrenched in their own little position, and we judge and attack each other. We are not a good example for our students. There's no harmony.

I'm probably being too negative right now. I don't know, and i don't have the energy to lift myself from that at this moment. It's US who have to change. Or leave, as the case may be.

Our lady of the assassins

Just saw this movie. Waldemar asked me to buy it a few weeks ago, and finally yesterday it arrived. So i invited a few students to watch it with me tonight. It's a story of life in Medellín, Colombia. Very bleak reality. Most of all, what Waldemar said once the movie was over: "yes, that's what it's like where i live".

I have to get my ass off chairs...

It's official

I'm 31 years old.

In one and a half hours i discussed society and community and rights and legal systems and laws of behavior with Amel. Then i opened at random a poem book by Mario Benedetti, and he says that cumpleaños are not important, but cumpledías we should have and live. Cumplehoras and cumpleinstantes, i think, which is what i lived tonight. Maraca came as i was putting the book down and told me about a friend of hers threatening suicide. Then my mom called, and then a group of 25 latino students sang las mañanitas in front of my window... They threw snowballs at me, and i hugged them all and then they tried to put me in the shower. Then Harold came and tried to call his mom in Colombia, and we've been talking now about maturity and growing up and being yourself.

An now i'm calling my mom back again.

Happy Birthday to me!

So, i turn 31 tomorrow.

Until 3 or 4 years ago, or even more recently, i used to say i didn't feel any different from when i was 16 or 17.

I have mostly lost touch with that guy now, though. In some respects i'm glad of that: he was very insecure. He never spoke his mind, even though things appeared very clear to him at times.

That clarity is what i miss most of him. Now i say more of myself, but i feel like speaking itself is a lie.

Perhaps it is wise not to speak much, and the problem with him was that he was silent for the wrong reasons, meaning fear of what others would think of him. I must admit that, though to a lesser degree, i still feel that fear...