This is not the official retirement of Mate Mondays; there will be at least one more entry, probably two, and I'll of course leave it up for posterity. However, all journeys do come to an end eventually; so it goes with blogs, too. However, Caminando picks up where this one leaves off, so give a look!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
For those who might be interested
I have started a new blog to chronicle my seminary journey, caminandoluz.blogspot.com
Monday, August 18, 2008
August Newsletter
So, right on the heels of my July newsletter, here comes August. In my teaser entry of things to come at Mate Monday, I mentioned gushing over the kiddos, and sharing some wisdom picked up from Claudio. July was the kids' turn; now, it's time to recount one of the most profound conversations I've ever had in my life.
It was a few days before I left Montevideo, and I was in the Centro de Estudios, drinking mate and chatting with Claudio and Virginia. In other words, it was a pretty normal day in Uruguay. Predictably, the subject of my imminent departure came up. I expected (I don't know why) the usual spate of questions - what did you like most, what will you miss, what do you most want to do when you get home. Of course, I should've known that, with Claudio involved in the conversation, things would get deeper than that.
It started off with a fairly predictable question - what have you learned this year? I gave some predictable answers - loads of Spanish, more about Latin American realities than I ever could've imagined knowing, much about the culture of a very special country with the name of a river. These are all true statements, but ultimately stem from a fairly superficial sense of what it means to know something. I think Spanish reflects the difference well - I answered what I had to come to "saber" (know intellectually), but what interested Claudio was what I had come to "conocer" (know on a personal level). You "saber" facts and figures for a test; you "conocer" a person or a reality. Claudio wanted to know what had changed me.
I thought about it for a minute more, and I realized that I couldn't articulate what I had learned, what I had taken in over the course of a year. It wasn't a Spanish problem, either - I simply couldn't define it. So, I said so, and as the words came out of my mouth, I thought of some wisdom shared with me by a prior volunteer. He had wrestled for a while with what kind of sense could be made out of his year in Uruguay, how it mattered in the course of his life. Finally, he came to the conclusion that the year simply was a part of who he was, that he couldn't separate what it meant to be himself from the fact that he'd had the experiences he'd had in Montevideo.
I'd been struck by this comment, and so I shared it with Claudio. He grinned knowingly, poured me a mate, and said "and there it is." He told me that, after his release from prison, he'd struggled with the same question, and arrived at the same conclusion, that our identity as an individual can't be so neatly separated from where we've been and what we've experienced. Claudio's twelve years of imprisonment aren't an episode apart from the rest of his life, a lengthy parenthesis of suffering stuffed between his youth and his adult life, nor are they something he can simply take off like an article of clothing and toss aside. Claudio's inherent Claudio-ness includes all of what he has seen and experienced, and the only healthy response is to accept it as such and live because, not in spite of, life and what it's brought.
For a couple of minutes as he spoke, the world essentially stopped turning as I listened and thought. And then I wondered - how does that take shape in my life? The question stayed with me all day - on the bus back from La Obra, in my room as I began to take maps and prayers down off my wall, in the office as I checked my e-mail and listened to La Catalina. Then, a thought hit me as the closing song of the murga played and the singers remembered the hands of their fathers when they were young, the pretty little things who became their wives, the faces and laughs they'd known over the years. If Claudio's wisdom carried with it truth, this idea that who we are and where we've been aren't so easily separated and that trying to do so only serves to deny who we are to ourselves and torture us in the process, then what does that say about the people with whom we've lived?
It was a logical enough thought. The idea of leaving behind the wonderful people I'd come to love in Uruguay - Milton, Wilma, Claudio, Virginia, Seba and Karin and Alvaro, the Valdense choir, the grupo de jovenes, Ana the cook, the amazing morning and afternoon crews at La Obra, Monica, the congregation at Nuestro Salvador, my kids, the students at Centro de Estudios, and so many others - was absolutely tearing me apart. In fact, I didn't want to leave, and had it not been for a friend flying down to accompany me on my trip to Lima, I no doubt would have begun scheming as to how I could extend my time in Montevideo past the leave date I'd set prior.
And then, it came to me. If experiences are inseparable from identity, then so are other people. I can't separate my identity from my having known Milton, or Claudio, or Seba, or little Ana Karen, or any other of the people whose paths have intersected mine in the past 23.5 years. Rather, I carry them with me. In a way, I never left them, simply because I can't separate who I am from who they are, and who they are to me. I am who I am in part because of who I know.
I suppose, at this point, one could go off on other related philosophical tangents - I'd love to have the "is this compatible with the Aristotelian idea of the individual human kerygma and teleological end? (I think it is), or is it simply another way of affirming the rationalism (think tabula rasa here) of Locke, Berkeley, and Hume?" discussion sometime. But, more than anything else, I think I'd rather simply say thank you to those of you who've been a part of my journey, not only in Uruguay, but in my life as a whole. Donne nailed it - No man is an island. Thank you, to use the other half of John Donne's immortal image, for being a part of the main.
It was a few days before I left Montevideo, and I was in the Centro de Estudios, drinking mate and chatting with Claudio and Virginia. In other words, it was a pretty normal day in Uruguay. Predictably, the subject of my imminent departure came up. I expected (I don't know why) the usual spate of questions - what did you like most, what will you miss, what do you most want to do when you get home. Of course, I should've known that, with Claudio involved in the conversation, things would get deeper than that.
It started off with a fairly predictable question - what have you learned this year? I gave some predictable answers - loads of Spanish, more about Latin American realities than I ever could've imagined knowing, much about the culture of a very special country with the name of a river. These are all true statements, but ultimately stem from a fairly superficial sense of what it means to know something. I think Spanish reflects the difference well - I answered what I had to come to "saber" (know intellectually), but what interested Claudio was what I had come to "conocer" (know on a personal level). You "saber" facts and figures for a test; you "conocer" a person or a reality. Claudio wanted to know what had changed me.
I thought about it for a minute more, and I realized that I couldn't articulate what I had learned, what I had taken in over the course of a year. It wasn't a Spanish problem, either - I simply couldn't define it. So, I said so, and as the words came out of my mouth, I thought of some wisdom shared with me by a prior volunteer. He had wrestled for a while with what kind of sense could be made out of his year in Uruguay, how it mattered in the course of his life. Finally, he came to the conclusion that the year simply was a part of who he was, that he couldn't separate what it meant to be himself from the fact that he'd had the experiences he'd had in Montevideo.
I'd been struck by this comment, and so I shared it with Claudio. He grinned knowingly, poured me a mate, and said "and there it is." He told me that, after his release from prison, he'd struggled with the same question, and arrived at the same conclusion, that our identity as an individual can't be so neatly separated from where we've been and what we've experienced. Claudio's twelve years of imprisonment aren't an episode apart from the rest of his life, a lengthy parenthesis of suffering stuffed between his youth and his adult life, nor are they something he can simply take off like an article of clothing and toss aside. Claudio's inherent Claudio-ness includes all of what he has seen and experienced, and the only healthy response is to accept it as such and live because, not in spite of, life and what it's brought.
For a couple of minutes as he spoke, the world essentially stopped turning as I listened and thought. And then I wondered - how does that take shape in my life? The question stayed with me all day - on the bus back from La Obra, in my room as I began to take maps and prayers down off my wall, in the office as I checked my e-mail and listened to La Catalina. Then, a thought hit me as the closing song of the murga played and the singers remembered the hands of their fathers when they were young, the pretty little things who became their wives, the faces and laughs they'd known over the years. If Claudio's wisdom carried with it truth, this idea that who we are and where we've been aren't so easily separated and that trying to do so only serves to deny who we are to ourselves and torture us in the process, then what does that say about the people with whom we've lived?
It was a logical enough thought. The idea of leaving behind the wonderful people I'd come to love in Uruguay - Milton, Wilma, Claudio, Virginia, Seba and Karin and Alvaro, the Valdense choir, the grupo de jovenes, Ana the cook, the amazing morning and afternoon crews at La Obra, Monica, the congregation at Nuestro Salvador, my kids, the students at Centro de Estudios, and so many others - was absolutely tearing me apart. In fact, I didn't want to leave, and had it not been for a friend flying down to accompany me on my trip to Lima, I no doubt would have begun scheming as to how I could extend my time in Montevideo past the leave date I'd set prior.
And then, it came to me. If experiences are inseparable from identity, then so are other people. I can't separate my identity from my having known Milton, or Claudio, or Seba, or little Ana Karen, or any other of the people whose paths have intersected mine in the past 23.5 years. Rather, I carry them with me. In a way, I never left them, simply because I can't separate who I am from who they are, and who they are to me. I am who I am in part because of who I know.
I suppose, at this point, one could go off on other related philosophical tangents - I'd love to have the "is this compatible with the Aristotelian idea of the individual human kerygma and teleological end? (I think it is), or is it simply another way of affirming the rationalism (think tabula rasa here) of Locke, Berkeley, and Hume?" discussion sometime. But, more than anything else, I think I'd rather simply say thank you to those of you who've been a part of my journey, not only in Uruguay, but in my life as a whole. Donne nailed it - No man is an island. Thank you, to use the other half of John Donne's immortal image, for being a part of the main.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Grace - July Newsletter Entry
So, to follow up one good Lutheran entry with another, let's talk grace for a while. Hopefully you will extend some grace to me related to how incredibly remiss I've been about updating; I had an intense (but amazing) month on the road after leaving Uruguay, and now that I'm back in southeast Texas, reconnecting with people and getting ready for the big move up to Chicago in a few days, I finally have some time to write again.
This is hardly an earth-shattering linguistic revelation, but..."thank you" in Spanish is "gracias." Graces to thank you for what you've done, for being who you are and where you are. Grace abounds linguistically in the Spanish-speaking world. It thanks you, and it makes you laugh - "la gracia," after all, is the humor in a given situation, and it's common to refer to something that was funny as being "gracioso/a" instead of "comico/a." As in English, a dancer can be marked by "mucha gracia" if s/he is particularly natural and fluid in her/his movements. Grace abounds, it appears in virtually every conversation, it surprises you.
Grace is like a child, I think, and the best teachers of it what it means have proven not to be my pastors, or my professors, but some of the children who God put in my life this past year. I learned about grace from Federico. I did nothing to earn his affection, other than exist, and he gave it anyway. One moment in particular stands out, probably just because it's my first memory of Federico. It was a Wednesday afternoon music time, and I had sat down on one of the benches just before the kids came into the room. Federico nearly fought his way over to my bench, plopped right down beside me, and within a few minutes had put his arm around mine and started to lean up against me. That's grace. I did nothing; I merely received freely, through no goodness or actions on my own.
Another grace moment from music time, this time with Gretel. I was convinced, at first, that Gretel absolutely hated me, and I couldn't figure out why. In the beginning, she didn't want to have anything to do with anyone, but she began warming up to other kids, and to the teachers...but not to me. Still, every week during the greeting song, I'd stick my hand out to her in the hopes that she'd shake it. And one day, after I'd given up hope of it every happening, she did...and with a huge smile on her face. That's grace. I asked, I sought, I knocked; I was answered, I found, the door was opened to me, and in the most surprising way possible...and still, I really did nothing to receive it. I just showed up and went about my normal routine, and then grace broke its way through the wall and left nothing in my perception of its right place.
Of course, I can't talk about grace without mentioning the only girl this year to earn the title of "princesa" on my list of pet names, Ana Karen. She couldn't remember my name to save her life for the first few months - I was just "maestro," or upon occasion, "cocinero" if I'd been helping serve at snack time. And then, one day: "Keveen, necesito ayuda con mis zapatos." It had happened so many times before - Anita simply hadn't mastered the art of tying her shoelaces yet, and so she'd ask me to help her re-tie them. As I was halfway through tying the first shoe, it hit me - she'd asked KEVIN, not "maestro" to help her. That's grace. It recognizes us for who we are, the fearfully and wonderfully made children of God that we've been formed to be, and just when we'd forgotten and accepted the meaningless anonymity the world tries so hard to force upon us.
I could write from now until the end of the world about grace moments from the past year. They weren't all with the kids; they weren't always obvious when they happened. Some of them, I've no doubt, will remain undiscovered for what they are, maybe just for a while, maybe forever. But God's grace is active in this world, grim a place as it may be sometimes; maybe our highest calling as a people of God is to see the grace that abounds in our lives, let it come into us and transform us, and then share it how we can.
This is hardly an earth-shattering linguistic revelation, but..."thank you" in Spanish is "gracias." Graces to thank you for what you've done, for being who you are and where you are. Grace abounds linguistically in the Spanish-speaking world. It thanks you, and it makes you laugh - "la gracia," after all, is the humor in a given situation, and it's common to refer to something that was funny as being "gracioso/a" instead of "comico/a." As in English, a dancer can be marked by "mucha gracia" if s/he is particularly natural and fluid in her/his movements. Grace abounds, it appears in virtually every conversation, it surprises you.
Grace is like a child, I think, and the best teachers of it what it means have proven not to be my pastors, or my professors, but some of the children who God put in my life this past year. I learned about grace from Federico. I did nothing to earn his affection, other than exist, and he gave it anyway. One moment in particular stands out, probably just because it's my first memory of Federico. It was a Wednesday afternoon music time, and I had sat down on one of the benches just before the kids came into the room. Federico nearly fought his way over to my bench, plopped right down beside me, and within a few minutes had put his arm around mine and started to lean up against me. That's grace. I did nothing; I merely received freely, through no goodness or actions on my own.
Another grace moment from music time, this time with Gretel. I was convinced, at first, that Gretel absolutely hated me, and I couldn't figure out why. In the beginning, she didn't want to have anything to do with anyone, but she began warming up to other kids, and to the teachers...but not to me. Still, every week during the greeting song, I'd stick my hand out to her in the hopes that she'd shake it. And one day, after I'd given up hope of it every happening, she did...and with a huge smile on her face. That's grace. I asked, I sought, I knocked; I was answered, I found, the door was opened to me, and in the most surprising way possible...and still, I really did nothing to receive it. I just showed up and went about my normal routine, and then grace broke its way through the wall and left nothing in my perception of its right place.
Of course, I can't talk about grace without mentioning the only girl this year to earn the title of "princesa" on my list of pet names, Ana Karen. She couldn't remember my name to save her life for the first few months - I was just "maestro," or upon occasion, "cocinero" if I'd been helping serve at snack time. And then, one day: "Keveen, necesito ayuda con mis zapatos." It had happened so many times before - Anita simply hadn't mastered the art of tying her shoelaces yet, and so she'd ask me to help her re-tie them. As I was halfway through tying the first shoe, it hit me - she'd asked KEVIN, not "maestro" to help her. That's grace. It recognizes us for who we are, the fearfully and wonderfully made children of God that we've been formed to be, and just when we'd forgotten and accepted the meaningless anonymity the world tries so hard to force upon us.
I could write from now until the end of the world about grace moments from the past year. They weren't all with the kids; they weren't always obvious when they happened. Some of them, I've no doubt, will remain undiscovered for what they are, maybe just for a while, maybe forever. But God's grace is active in this world, grim a place as it may be sometimes; maybe our highest calling as a people of God is to see the grace that abounds in our lives, let it come into us and transform us, and then share it how we can.
The positive side
As at least some of you out there reading this know, one of the distinctive aspects of Luther's Small Catechism was providing positive value to the 10 Commandments...they aren't just "do this because I say so" sorts of deals, but rather provide people with a list of "thou shalts" instead of just "thou shalt nots." So, to be a good little Lutheran, I've decided to do the same with my own list. Check out the previous entry for a refresher on these.
I. Do ask me about my year. I want to talk about it - I have more stories and ideas to share than I know what to do with, and they're still being generated even after leaving my site!
II. Do be patient with me. I've been speaking Spanish, practically exclusively, for almost a year, and it's hard for me to remember that most people back home haven't had that experience. Accordingly, I do tend to pronounce things the way they are en español, and throw in bits of Spanish even when I'm working in English.
III. Do let me know what you want. I can go on and on and on and on some more about this past year: if we've got time for a 5 minute coffee talk, please let me know so I can act accordingly.
IV. Do ask me questions if something's not clear. I reference lots of weird things now, such as mate, murga, el Río de la Plata, dulce de leche, asado, etc etc etc. If you don't know what on earth I'm talking about, ask me to back up.
V. Do ask me about the culture. Uruguay is one of the most culturally rich, and unique, spots in the Americas, and I love to talk about how they do things down there.
VI. Do ask me about life and society. Again, it's a fascinating place, and life there is different than in the U.S....and I'll happily explain how and why.
VII. Do ask me about Uruguayan history and politics. I love both things, and will GLADLY share what I know with you.
VIII. Do ask me how I'm doing. The transition back to "home" from "home away from home" is tough sometimes, and it's good to be able to talk through it.
IX. Do ask me about politics. I talked about it every day for the past year over mate, after all.
X. Do treat me like you used to. If you knew me before this year, I've missed you and want to hang out when/how we can...again, I am still, for better or worse, Kevin - medio uruguayo or otherwise.
I. Do ask me about my year. I want to talk about it - I have more stories and ideas to share than I know what to do with, and they're still being generated even after leaving my site!
II. Do be patient with me. I've been speaking Spanish, practically exclusively, for almost a year, and it's hard for me to remember that most people back home haven't had that experience. Accordingly, I do tend to pronounce things the way they are en español, and throw in bits of Spanish even when I'm working in English.
III. Do let me know what you want. I can go on and on and on and on some more about this past year: if we've got time for a 5 minute coffee talk, please let me know so I can act accordingly.
IV. Do ask me questions if something's not clear. I reference lots of weird things now, such as mate, murga, el Río de la Plata, dulce de leche, asado, etc etc etc. If you don't know what on earth I'm talking about, ask me to back up.
V. Do ask me about the culture. Uruguay is one of the most culturally rich, and unique, spots in the Americas, and I love to talk about how they do things down there.
VI. Do ask me about life and society. Again, it's a fascinating place, and life there is different than in the U.S....and I'll happily explain how and why.
VII. Do ask me about Uruguayan history and politics. I love both things, and will GLADLY share what I know with you.
VIII. Do ask me how I'm doing. The transition back to "home" from "home away from home" is tough sometimes, and it's good to be able to talk through it.
IX. Do ask me about politics. I talked about it every day for the past year over mate, after all.
X. Do treat me like you used to. If you knew me before this year, I've missed you and want to hang out when/how we can...again, I am still, for better or worse, Kevin - medio uruguayo or otherwise.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
A Non-update
So, I'm sure that regular readers have noticed that, lately, I haven't written much. Suffice it to say that I've been busy. My last entry was on July 5th, which was the day after Kirsten's Uruguay exit...my own followed on the morning of the 9th, and since then, I have been on the long overland trek to Lima, Peru to meet up with a group from my home synod as they visit the Lutheran community here. I could put up details of my odyssey across half a continent, but that's really not the purpose of this blog...though ok, ok, I might end up writing an entry about one or two outstanding moments.
Rather, the purpose of today's update - to remind you that I'm not dead. Courtesy of some long bus rides, I've had plenty of time to think of content for new blog entries, so as an appetizer...here's what's coming up, with the first hopefully appearing before the end of the week.
-the grace response to my personal Decalogue (I'm too good a Lutheran to just leave it as a list of laws without the positive values...)
-a related July newsletter entry that will, imagine this, involve gushing over my kiddos AND some wisdom shared with me by Claudio
- a top 10 list of funniest moments during the year
Those are just the big starting point ideas - who knows where they'll end up taking me. Regardless, stay tuned - just because I've phsyically left Montevideo doesn't mean life at Mate Mondays has wrapped up yet!
Rather, the purpose of today's update - to remind you that I'm not dead. Courtesy of some long bus rides, I've had plenty of time to think of content for new blog entries, so as an appetizer...here's what's coming up, with the first hopefully appearing before the end of the week.
-the grace response to my personal Decalogue (I'm too good a Lutheran to just leave it as a list of laws without the positive values...)
-a related July newsletter entry that will, imagine this, involve gushing over my kiddos AND some wisdom shared with me by Claudio
- a top 10 list of funniest moments during the year
Those are just the big starting point ideas - who knows where they'll end up taking me. Regardless, stay tuned - just because I've phsyically left Montevideo doesn't mean life at Mate Mondays has wrapped up yet!
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Los Diez Mandamientos de Keveen Patricio Panadero
As my time in la República Oriental winds down, I've been thinking about how it will be to go home and share my experiences with others. Aside from the what stories to tell to who and when and where, the question of "what about me? What do I want to hear and not want to hear?" has been going through my mind, too. So, I present you with my Ten Commandments of Things NOT To Say Or Do When I Get Back....told jokingly, but this is serious. Most of these are just annoying, but one or two of these are offensive and are likely to make me mad.
I. "How was Argentina?" - If you ask me this, do NOT be surprised when I flush red and start to seem visibly upset. I DID NOT LIVE IN ARGENTINA. I have been in URUGUAY the entire year, barring some vacations and conferences across the river. If you ask me this, it will be very obvious to me that you haven't bothered to read a newsletter or check out my blog...don't even ask me this as a joke, please.
II. "Yer-uh-gway." - I'm sorry, is that a country? Because the one I'm in is pronounced OO-ROO-GWAI. Bonus points if you put the stress on the last syllable. This is annoying, not offensive...but I'll correct you nonetheless. As a corollary, I lived in "mont-eh-vee-DAY-oh," not "mont-uh-VID-ee-oh"...the latter is in Minnesota, where I have yet to visit.
III. "Well, that's great. Excuse me..." - This is generally the response that I get if I say more than two sentences about my year in response to "So, how was Uruguay?" Can YOU sum up a year of your life, one of the most challenging and eventful years at that, in 10 words or less? Neither can I...if you ask me how Uruguay was without asking specifics, please be prepared to listen for a while.
IV. "So, did you live in the jungle with the Indians?" - Uruguay is the same distance from the Equator as Virginia. All the indigenous peoples of Uruguay were wiped out in the 19th century, and virtually everyone here is the descendant of European immigrants, particulary Italians, Spanish, and Portuguese, but with plenty of Germans, French, English, and others mixed in. There is also a notable, if not huge, Afro-Uruguayan population. In other words, Uruguay is pretty much Baltimore except with a milder winter.
V. "Do they eat a lot of enchiladas and tacos and stuff down there?" - If, by down there, you mean Mexico, maybe so. Not in the rest of Latin America, including Uruguay. Asking this would be like asking an Italian if they ate lots of borscht and perogies because they're part of the same continent as Russia.
VI. "So, do they have, you know, buildings and stuff down there?" - Why yes, as a matter of fact they do. Not only that, but Montevideo is widely considered a truly fascinating city from an architectural point of view. And yes, they have hospitals and doctors and cars and things - in fact, their public health system is more accessible than ours, and most people use public transportation, which is efficient, cheap, and serves all parts of the city. Oh, and they officially separated church and state from the get-go, abolished slavery 30 years before the U.S. Civil War, and gave women the vote before the U.S. and much of Western Europe. This country ISN'T backwards.
VII. "Do they have a dictator?" - No. Amazingly, Latin America IS capable of "electing good men," to use the words of Woodrow Wilson...and their last round of military dictators were backed and funded by the U.S.
VIII. "Are you glad to be back in America?" - Umm, I never left America. America is a group of more than 30 countries on two continents. I'm sure, however, that I'll be glad to be back in the U.S., the states, Texas, however else you want to phrase this question, though.
IX. Ask about politics, or if you do, be prepared to be respectful.
X. Treat me like I've just arrived from Mars/am fragile/weird/anything else abnormal - Sure, this year has been transformative in a lot of ways. But I'm still Kevin.
I. "How was Argentina?" - If you ask me this, do NOT be surprised when I flush red and start to seem visibly upset. I DID NOT LIVE IN ARGENTINA. I have been in URUGUAY the entire year, barring some vacations and conferences across the river. If you ask me this, it will be very obvious to me that you haven't bothered to read a newsletter or check out my blog...don't even ask me this as a joke, please.
II. "Yer-uh-gway." - I'm sorry, is that a country? Because the one I'm in is pronounced OO-ROO-GWAI. Bonus points if you put the stress on the last syllable. This is annoying, not offensive...but I'll correct you nonetheless. As a corollary, I lived in "mont-eh-vee-DAY-oh," not "mont-uh-VID-ee-oh"...the latter is in Minnesota, where I have yet to visit.
III. "Well, that's great. Excuse me..." - This is generally the response that I get if I say more than two sentences about my year in response to "So, how was Uruguay?" Can YOU sum up a year of your life, one of the most challenging and eventful years at that, in 10 words or less? Neither can I...if you ask me how Uruguay was without asking specifics, please be prepared to listen for a while.
IV. "So, did you live in the jungle with the Indians?" - Uruguay is the same distance from the Equator as Virginia. All the indigenous peoples of Uruguay were wiped out in the 19th century, and virtually everyone here is the descendant of European immigrants, particulary Italians, Spanish, and Portuguese, but with plenty of Germans, French, English, and others mixed in. There is also a notable, if not huge, Afro-Uruguayan population. In other words, Uruguay is pretty much Baltimore except with a milder winter.
V. "Do they eat a lot of enchiladas and tacos and stuff down there?" - If, by down there, you mean Mexico, maybe so. Not in the rest of Latin America, including Uruguay. Asking this would be like asking an Italian if they ate lots of borscht and perogies because they're part of the same continent as Russia.
VI. "So, do they have, you know, buildings and stuff down there?" - Why yes, as a matter of fact they do. Not only that, but Montevideo is widely considered a truly fascinating city from an architectural point of view. And yes, they have hospitals and doctors and cars and things - in fact, their public health system is more accessible than ours, and most people use public transportation, which is efficient, cheap, and serves all parts of the city. Oh, and they officially separated church and state from the get-go, abolished slavery 30 years before the U.S. Civil War, and gave women the vote before the U.S. and much of Western Europe. This country ISN'T backwards.
VII. "Do they have a dictator?" - No. Amazingly, Latin America IS capable of "electing good men," to use the words of Woodrow Wilson...and their last round of military dictators were backed and funded by the U.S.
VIII. "Are you glad to be back in America?" - Umm, I never left America. America is a group of more than 30 countries on two continents. I'm sure, however, that I'll be glad to be back in the U.S., the states, Texas, however else you want to phrase this question, though.
IX. Ask about politics, or if you do, be prepared to be respectful.
X. Treat me like I've just arrived from Mars/am fragile/weird/anything else abnormal - Sure, this year has been transformative in a lot of ways. But I'm still Kevin.
Friday, July 4, 2008
232
I could write my own thoughts on Independence Day, on the values upon which the United States of America was founded, and maybe even tell you about singing "The Star-Spangled Banner" at midnight in an Uruguayan kitchen after listening to some friends sing us "Orientales - ¡La Patria o la Tumba!" However, the latter isn't that big of a story, and as for values...I think those have already been said way better than I can do. Happy Fourth of July!
"When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
"When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, — That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. — Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
He has forbidden his Governors to pass Laws of immediate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his Assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them.
He has refused to pass other Laws for the accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of Representation in the Legislature, a right inestimable to them and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their Public Records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved Representative Houses repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness his invasions on the rights of the people.
He has refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the Legislative Powers, incapable of Annihilation, have returned to the People at large for their exercise; the State remaining in the mean time exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within.
He has endeavoured to prevent the population of these States; for that purpose obstructing the Laws for Naturalization of Foreigners; refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new Appropriations of Lands.
He has obstructed the Administration of Justice by refusing his Assent to Laws for establishing Judiciary Powers.
He has made Judges dependent on his Will alone for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries.
He has erected a multitude of New Offices, and sent hither swarms of Officers to harass our people and eat out their substance.
He has kept among us, in times of peace, Standing Armies without the Consent of our legislatures.
He has affected to render the Military independent of and superior to the Civil Power.
He has combined with others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws; giving his Assent to their Acts of pretended Legislation:
For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us:
For protecting them, by a mock Trial from punishment for any Murders which they should commit on the Inhabitants of these States:
For cutting off our Trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing Taxes on us without our Consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefit of Trial by Jury:
For transporting us beyond Seas to be tried for pretended offences:
For abolishing the free System of English Laws in a neighbouring Province, establishing therein an Arbitrary government, and enlarging its Boundaries so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these Colonies
For taking away our Charters, abolishing our most valuable Laws and altering fundamentally the Forms of our Governments:
For suspending our own Legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever.
He has abdicated Government here, by declaring us out of his Protection and waging War against us.
He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is at this time transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to compleat the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of Cruelty & Perfidy scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized nation.
He has constrained our fellow Citizens taken Captive on the high Seas to bear Arms against their Country, to become the executioners of their friends and Brethren, or to fall themselves by their Hands.
He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavoured to bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers, the merciless Indian Savages whose known rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes and conditions.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these united Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States, that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. — And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor."
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