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The dreaded update of WordPress. If you remember the last one, you’ll remember my exceptional works of art created during this time. In the meantime, enjoy Bob Dylan’s take on poetry: “Anything I can sing, I call a song. Anything I can’t sing, I call a poem.” The more I write, the more I think poetry is awe and honesty put in words.

The following article came from a feature post at The View From Here by permission of the blog’s author and good friend, Gunfighter. His writing challenge was 1,000 words on any random picture sent to him. Thank you for the surprise, GF, and for the introduction to your reading community. What neat comments! Please go by and support the website. –Claudia

Words are powerful.

Words can move nations. Words can effect change.

Words can seduce a lover, soothe a frightened child, or cause happiness, or even gales of laughter.

Words can produce sadness. Words can cause pain. Words can even be used to cause a war.

Words are powerful.

I don’t know what the young woman in this photo is saying. From some of the visual clues that I can see, it looks like it could be an “open mic” night at a pub or coffee house. I don’t know if she is a singer, a poet, or some sort of essayist. Perhaps she is only introducing an act. She seems to be using notes to either read from or for reference, but the look (that I can barely see) on her face is one of passion. Not necessarily romantic passion, but of deep emotion. The kind of emotion that can only come from the soul.

What is she saying?

What does she feel?

Why does she sit there, speaking her words… HER words… to other people, most of whom, it can be assumed, are strangers? She must have something to share. Something deep inside of her that she needs to express. As I said, she looks like a passionate person.

If she speaks of peace, it is most appropriate, particularly in today’s world, where there are wars and rumors of wars running rampant. From little “brushfire” wars to wars of national conquest. Wars for liberation and wars for domination. Wars for security, wars for resources, wars for religion… wars for “peace”. (No, I couldn’t say that last part with a straight face, either)

Speaking out, pleading, for peace is serious stuff. It can’t be brushed off. It must be heard, if not always heeded. What are we made of?… who do we honor?… what kind of people are we, if the voices for peace are denigrated, scorned, or dismissed?

What does it say about our national character when people who call for peace are ridiculed? or are called “traitors” What does it say about our leadership when our leaders will lie about a Causus Belli? Not anything good, that’s certain. When our leaders will lie to start a war, and then continually change the goals of said war, can we believe them when they tell us anything else? Can we believe them when they tell us their hopes for peace?

Of course not. You can’t believe them, because they are the worst kinds of liars. They are the kind of people who will lie to your face because they believe. in the darkness of their own hearts, that most people are just stupid enough… or at least gullible enough to buy their lies, just so they can seem patriotic. Not the sort of patriotism borne of a true love of country… the patriotism that makes you swell with quiet pride when you hear the national anthem. I’m talking about an ugly sort of patriotism. The kind of patriotism that is more jingoistic that patriotic. The kind of patriotism that makes you shout “USA, USA” at the top of your lungs, like some macabre cheerleaders, as our troops engage in combat.

The kind of patriotism that our current leaders wants us to feel, through their lies, all because of their own guilt. None of them served during the Vietnam era (and those who did aren’t in fashion), and are part of our collective national guilt-trip, caused by not giving the proper respect to our soldiers of the time.

Words are Powerful… but words are almost always drowned out by exploding bombs and gun-fire.

So yeah, I hope she is talking about peace.

I hope that she is speaking publicly about her feelings about the current war in Iraq. I hope that she is tearing into the leadership that has caused untold thousands of deaths. I hope she is holding the leadership accountable for it’s lies, and it’s support of the unforgivable practice of torture. I hope that she is taking the administration to task over it’s excuses for making war in Iraq, while it won’t send a single platoon to Darfur to protect the people there from genocidal madmen. I hope that she is calling the administration to account for it’s support of the criminals Alberto Gonzales and Karl Rove.

I hope so.

I’m like most people when it comes to pictures. When I see a picture, I see what’s there, and unless it is self-explanatory, I immediately start wondering what it is I’m looking at. Again, like most people, I draw immediate conclusions, and again, like most people, I see what I want to see.

I want to see a person speaking about peace, and I decided that’s what I am seeing.

God Bless Her for that.

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The following article was submitted to the wikiHow.com as how to use a squatting toilet. Hey, laughter is a good thing…my father would be so proud of me!

Ladies, you’re in the right restroom and that’s not the wall you’re looking at, it’s the floor. You look all around but every single one is like this. You really have a lot of “alma matter” to release, but you don’t want to look like you’ll need a special pass to go to the nurse’s office for a new change of clothes once you’re done. So how do you use a squatting toilet without any accidents?

You’ll Need:
* toilet paper
* hand sanitizer
* wipes
* meditation breath

Steps:
1. Make sure you have all your materials before walking into the stall. Go in, face the hood, and close the door.
2. Fold your knees slightly inward and forward. If you have a skirt, this is easy. If you have pantyhose, take one side off and hold it. If you have pants, roll up the bottom, and get close to the hood. Pants are best outside the hood but always make sure your body is inside the hood, midpoint.
3. The hood is there to protect you. It will catch any reverb action. Aim at a 45 degree angle to test the hood. Adjust angle as necessary. Remember not all hoods are made the same.
4. No matter how much protection a hood can provide please don’t approach it with projectile intentions. Take a deep breath and slowly, methodically release.
5. Clean, most of the flushing apparatus are on the floor so step flush, carefully adjust your clothes outside the stall and wash your hands.

But Claudia, sitting up is much easier for urination…what about #2?
Yes, the dreaded 2. If you are an outdoors type, you will already have a good sense when it’s good to strip down from the waist down, if not, do it anyways.

1. Make sure that you have all your materials. If you’re feeling gooey and sticky, pour some water inside the hole first. If you’re feeling projectile action, raise up your heels.
2. Get your balance on midpoint. Use three fingers to hold yourself against the door or balance on the side panels.
3. Do a test run if possible and adjust your body as needed.
4. Relax and enjoy the moment. If the smells are perturbing, hurry up.

Tips:
1. Many places don’t provide paper. Always carry your own or take lots of water.
2. Look around first. If the locals aren’t on point all the time, than you shouldn’t feel bad.
3. Do not attempt to answer your cell phone and mess up a perfect position.
4. Check your pockets before squatting. You really don’t want to fish your passport from the hole.
5. Many places don’t differentiate between girls and boys restrooms. Tell your traveling buddy to look out for you or ask one of the local old ladies to wait or help you.
6. Always look out for your safety.
7. Do NOT touch the floor with your hands.
8. Keep it all in perspective. It’s an adventure!

Sources:
Doug Lansky, editor of There is no Toilet Paper on the Road Less Traveled
Article by Frank Bures at World Hum.com
Wikipedia has great pros and cons with the squatter.

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I couldn’t match the Hangul or crawl in Urdu
but I could witness

Liver spots and cheeks bright red
brown beaten alligator shoes in all black with gold chain
He never looked at me in the eyes…
back home he would be a dirty old man pimpified
and drunk,
flashy bills to compensate the slow death
of his unsatisfied hair committing seppuku

Two brown faces
Spit shoots like fireballs
across the subway seat
Finger cursing, two machetes in his bag
black handled wooden coat
Go to hell!– I want to shout
But I’m NOT leaving

It could have been some
Mojado against an armed rancher,
It could have been a 1970s silent white kid
on a Mississippi bus full of black folks
in a come to Jesus meeting ‘cuz the sheriff’s wait’n,
The hatred stays the same
–Spic, Go home!
Nigger, you pollute the race!–

God, please look up and MOVE!
You don’t have to take this
The subway has plenty of seats
You came here out of need to fulfill a need
You came here to a better society
The plead escaped me in one Spanish word
and their eyes met mine:

Bloodshot and sniffling
no tears, no anger
they couldn’t be more than 23
telling me without words
in the silence of the passengers
that they already moved

My face reddens
I…don’t know if to feel guilty
I don’t know if to speak…
Am I wrong to ask for justice
because I’ve always had it?
Am I just looking at this from
western mentality?

Sometimes I think
that racism is a genealogical,
irremovable,
handicap in the human race

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10 Things I want to accomplish before I die (which I will try to accomplish at least half in this next two years)
1. Travel the world
2. Spend a Christmas in a tropical island
3. Spend a weekend high rolling in Vegas
4. Publish 3 books
5. Do MS 150 from Houston to Austin
6. Participate in native New Zealand ceremony
7. Sky dive
8. Finish my masters
9. Spend more time with my grandparents
10. Excel in my career

10 Things my trip has made me wonder about….
1. If English is the universal language, why do only 6 countries in the world speak it?
2. America is an expensive place to live, sure you earn more, but 45% of your salary, or 5 months of the year, are for other people/insurance/government, so how much do we really earn?
3. I have a lot of respect for a country that considers quality education and internet a requirement provided by the government instead of a gift.
4. Be prepared to get sick when traveling. If the mosquitoes don’t get you than maybe the jet lag, water, height, food, air….there’s no way around this.
5. Creative thoughts or actions are harder to come by the longer you follow a routine. However, some routine is necessary…I have to reserve 1 hour each day writing in the morning.
6. There are two times in your life to travel: when you are old or young. The experience will be totally different in what you are able to do and what kind of cash you are able/need to have.
7. Unfortunately, for the majority of the countries the prettier the wife the bigger the husband’s wallet…there’s a lot of materialism to human nature.
8. The functional/operational language must have vocabulary on bathroom, taxi, directions, and laundry.
9. It’s so annoying to see females thumb their intelligence down to fit in or be liked…this seems to be a universal phenomenon.
10. How honest a nation/family/individual is to themselves and others is an awesome indicator how much perspective on life and the ability to present a strong humble transparent self.

10 Things to do before embarking on a long trip
1. Know where you’re from…yes, this does require some light traveling
2. Know where you are going…operational language requirements
3. Go digital–take full advantage of your memory or ipod for storage
4. Financial consolidation and cleaning up credit card
5. Will
6. Visit those you love
7. Find a way to stay connected: Grand Central, Skype, etc
8. Know your limitations and test them often while raveling
9. Find out the closest hospital and medical care wherever you are going
10. Don’t give your important documents to anyone. Many countries will ask for your passport and never give it back. Place a copy in your hand bag and one in your Google account.

10 Things to place in your carry on bag
1. Kleenex and wet naps (’cuz not all bathrooms have toilet paper)
2. towel and hand towel
3. water bottle (remember to empty it before you go through customs)
4. sheet or throw blanket (think if you get stuck in an airport)
5. small container with the hygienic items you could not stand to loose if your bags were lost, mine is lotion and deo
6. pen and pad (at least three of these)
7. meds (know some traditional medicine, boiled parsley is a great diuretic, papaya is a natural laxative)
8. tennis, flip flops (the sandals for the shower the tennis should be light)
9. plastic bags (rain, carry out, spillage, etc)
10. napkins, fork, knife and spoon (it is so hard to eat soup udan on chop sticks)

The world’s oldest water clock: when the big pot fills each hour it makes the bell ring. Doors fascinate me.

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Estimated transit time was about 22 hours and 12 minutes. Actual time from the moment I woke up to the moment I placed my bags on the stand was 43 hours…but aren’t we really in this massive transit of life all the time? Trying to be this, get somewhere, do something, get that to place so we can do this and that with greater ease. My father and I almost cried when we departed so I sped off…something about meeting destiny and not looking back went through my mind. I don’t want to be the object of anyone’s pain but I forgot to say I love you. I board the plane and I am still amazed at all the little things that mean so much in my life that I have taken for granted like the people who care about me, picking up on a whim in the middle of the night for coffee, a great slam on a tatami floor… The sunset is gorgeous and I saw the Rockies mold the land like bare dorsal bones on a skeleton or xylophone keys vibrating music. Life has a different beat for me now and I take advantage of all the in between spaces that don’t seem to have volume where this “nothingness” occurs: the suspension of time when a drummer’s calloused hands raise before hitting a freshly stretched head, or the medium blast of cruising engines, or even that huge empty universe that stood like raw clay waiting for expert hands to make the beginning of time. San Francisco is gorgeous and I saw the waters of the west coast for the first time in my life. Did I ever tell you how important those in between spaces are? Hey, did I tell you I love you?

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The house echoes my voice on the telephone like a Greek amphitheater bouncing off the wood laminate floors. I loved the white molding, tans and yellows that scream happiness inside of it as well as the big windows that let me see the world. I spent about eight months earning my way without furniture to accrue enough money, now it is empty and all my life’s contents in a 5″x5″. I locked myself in the closet like I use to do when I was young in order to get some quiet time and cry. The conversation with myself was unbearable and I paced the empty rooms trying to get a visual imprint of my almost former life. Through sobs and frustration of being unable to change the bit on the drill to install a towel hanger, I talked to myself. “You chose this. You can always quit and back out. You of all people know that this is right up your alley and you will do well. Nothing truly belongs to you but your own experiences. You have talked about it for years. What if you do quit and let go, do you really want to go back to the routine?” The towel rack goes in.

I am counting the days on the blue tatami of my jujitsu class. I have seen the walls of this building for well over five years and I stand close to the front of the line. In a class of 20, I am the only female. My Sensei looks at me and says, “Your perseverance will be tested. It is very difficult to be in a foreign country with no support group and relying on the kindness of others to point you the way. You cannot give up on yourself because quitting is very easy.” He never fails to remind me of my time in unemployment or the many jobs I had before I found teaching. He looks at me in line, “Two mile run, 100 break falls and push ups, and that’s just your first day. Don’t ever forget what ju-jitsu has done in your life.” The black belt test awaits me when I get back.

There are times in life when I feel so alone the room seems to cave in. As I am riding my bike down to buy tonight’s wine and flowers for dinner, today is not one of those days. There is both a great joy to seeing all the things that tie you to a place (bills, belongings, responsibilities) slowly being eliminated as well as the sadness of friends holding me close for an extended hug before I take off. Each days feels like my last and my heart screams to go everywhere.

All my worldly possessions that are going with me are in two duffel bags and I think of Solomon’s words, “Cry out for insight and understanding. Search for them like a money or lost treasure.” (Proverbs 2:2-4) Whatever doesn’t go with me will most likely not be needed; freedom is so easily confused for greed. I walk the lonely paths that many women shy from and although there are many things I want from the other side of the picket fence, there are so many things I have to be thankful for. I no longer want yearning and the longing for what use to be is gone. I seek knowledge, experience, wisdom, serenity, strength, happiness and a relationship with God. The time draws near, whoop!, here I go.

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