this is what i will be doing for the next 4 weeks: i will be working at the hospital nacional de guatemala, in the womens center. my responsibilities will include: shadowing OBGYN and maternity ward doctors, teaching women how to breast feed, taking in new patients and testing their blood pressure and vitals, and assisting in delivery of children. also, i will be shadowing the counseling sessions of womens groups at the center, talking about ALL kinds of things (probably sexual assault will come up...although i obviously wont be doing any of the counseling, yet i will be sitting there....listening....learning....loving).
please, send me strength, all.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Friday, July 4, 2008
thoughts before malaria
it is almost here.
first of all, i am going to be reading a few books on the plane that will immediately establish myself as a weirdo. namely, a book called, "rape: weapon of terror." its not that the title is too terrible...its the picture that accompanies it. there are two outstretched hands, photoshopped to the point where they look fake, palms facing you, in a futile attempt to stop you from getting closer. and, above the word 'rape' (written akin to that old font type on microsoft word, you know, the one where you used it to print fake ransom notes or halloween bake sale signs), are two eyes - eyes of a terrified woman. i dont know who the designer of the cover was, but i love how it evokes disgust and intrigue almost simultaneously...as if to say, "what kind of demented person are you for reading this, and please tell me there is something about the rape of nanking in there!"
ive been thinking about what i will feel when i meet the other interns. not about if i will get along with them, or if they hopefully will be down with learning how to make mango jelly with me, but whether or not i can get in their heads. i like to do that with new people. but these people will be foreign. that is, not from america. also, they will be really excited about being there. i keep wondering if i can succeed in cracking open their personas, while keeping mine shut tight. i understand the selfishness of this. that does not mean i do not continue to think about it.
the other thing im concerned about is what gifts i should bring back. i started to write down a list of all the things my friends would want. gabe wants a rock. preferably from inside the rainforest. easy enough. some other people want cheap imitation soccer jerseys. other people are more vague about their desires, and will say things like "just get me something metal," or "something from there." maybe if im lucky i can find a kissing bug and bring back chagas disease to those people. or maybe ill just get them a magnet. are magnets made anywhere other than china? doubt it.
malaria im actually not concerned about. the thing i am concerned about is trying. that, and armed muggings. or rape. its not that im overly paranoid, although i did catch myself panicking last evening when driving along a stretch of desert where my car might have been the tallest thing around and there was lightening everywhere (i didnt feel better until i saw a particularly long-lasting lightening bolt that turned pink, meaning that something/someone else got hit, and therefore my odds of being electrocuted were smaller). but i have been thinking a lot about dying. well, not dying, but being killed. i know, im not making this sound any better. ive been thinking a lot about some man, of mayan descent in my head , patiently getting on a bus without open windows, and almost politely showing me his gun and making me give him my money. and then, i picture my funeral. or i guess, i picture gabe moving out of our house. and i picture mittens turning into a pot smoking rebellious adolescent, claiming that she didnt even remember her own mother so that means she shouldnt have to go to college. i mean, shes only 1 and a half! think of the memories we still have coming! but really, i know ill be fine. i just have to go. i have to do my thing. and god almighty, i better be able to learn how to make mango jelly.
first of all, i am going to be reading a few books on the plane that will immediately establish myself as a weirdo. namely, a book called, "rape: weapon of terror." its not that the title is too terrible...its the picture that accompanies it. there are two outstretched hands, photoshopped to the point where they look fake, palms facing you, in a futile attempt to stop you from getting closer. and, above the word 'rape' (written akin to that old font type on microsoft word, you know, the one where you used it to print fake ransom notes or halloween bake sale signs), are two eyes - eyes of a terrified woman. i dont know who the designer of the cover was, but i love how it evokes disgust and intrigue almost simultaneously...as if to say, "what kind of demented person are you for reading this, and please tell me there is something about the rape of nanking in there!"
ive been thinking about what i will feel when i meet the other interns. not about if i will get along with them, or if they hopefully will be down with learning how to make mango jelly with me, but whether or not i can get in their heads. i like to do that with new people. but these people will be foreign. that is, not from america. also, they will be really excited about being there. i keep wondering if i can succeed in cracking open their personas, while keeping mine shut tight. i understand the selfishness of this. that does not mean i do not continue to think about it.
the other thing im concerned about is what gifts i should bring back. i started to write down a list of all the things my friends would want. gabe wants a rock. preferably from inside the rainforest. easy enough. some other people want cheap imitation soccer jerseys. other people are more vague about their desires, and will say things like "just get me something metal," or "something from there." maybe if im lucky i can find a kissing bug and bring back chagas disease to those people. or maybe ill just get them a magnet. are magnets made anywhere other than china? doubt it.
malaria im actually not concerned about. the thing i am concerned about is trying. that, and armed muggings. or rape. its not that im overly paranoid, although i did catch myself panicking last evening when driving along a stretch of desert where my car might have been the tallest thing around and there was lightening everywhere (i didnt feel better until i saw a particularly long-lasting lightening bolt that turned pink, meaning that something/someone else got hit, and therefore my odds of being electrocuted were smaller). but i have been thinking a lot about dying. well, not dying, but being killed. i know, im not making this sound any better. ive been thinking a lot about some man, of mayan descent in my head , patiently getting on a bus without open windows, and almost politely showing me his gun and making me give him my money. and then, i picture my funeral. or i guess, i picture gabe moving out of our house. and i picture mittens turning into a pot smoking rebellious adolescent, claiming that she didnt even remember her own mother so that means she shouldnt have to go to college. i mean, shes only 1 and a half! think of the memories we still have coming! but really, i know ill be fine. i just have to go. i have to do my thing. and god almighty, i better be able to learn how to make mango jelly.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Lindsey's Summer Reading List.
Blechman - Pigeon : The Fascinating Saga of the World's Most Revered and Reviled Bird
Huxley - The Doors of Perception + Heaven and Hell (combined 2 books in 1)
Lee - Acid Dreams
Philbrick - The Heart of the Sea
Kosinski - Being There
Atwood - Oryx and Crake, Robber Bride
Charriere - Papillon
Adams - The Hitchikers Guide Series
LeGuin - Left Hand of Darkness
Yogananda - Autobiography of a Yogi
Rathje - Rubbish!
McCarthy - The Road
Huxley - The Doors of Perception + Heaven and Hell (combined 2 books in 1)
Lee - Acid Dreams
Philbrick - The Heart of the Sea
Kosinski - Being There
Atwood - Oryx and Crake, Robber Bride
Charriere - Papillon
Adams - The Hitchikers Guide Series
LeGuin - Left Hand of Darkness
Yogananda - Autobiography of a Yogi
Rathje - Rubbish!
McCarthy - The Road
Sunday, May 4, 2008
lindsey and gabe's actual "7 wonders" of america
lindsey and gabe's actual "7 wonders" of america
7. that Costco decided to have a rice shortage -- reinforcing the fact that americans have truly no idea what the rest of the world is doing.
6. that, most likely, the last silverback gorilla on earth will be housed in epcot center, florida.
5. that the media dictates how we should feel about....everything.
4. manu ginobli hasn't yet been fired out of a cannon by US border patrol.
3. that Dick Cheney hasn't declared himself king.
2. that movies like 'speed racer' can actually exist.
1. that we are still, still, still, in an unwinnable war. i bet you couldnt have guessed that a few years ago!
7. that Costco decided to have a rice shortage -- reinforcing the fact that americans have truly no idea what the rest of the world is doing.
6. that, most likely, the last silverback gorilla on earth will be housed in epcot center, florida.
5. that the media dictates how we should feel about....everything.
4. manu ginobli hasn't yet been fired out of a cannon by US border patrol.
3. that Dick Cheney hasn't declared himself king.
2. that movies like 'speed racer' can actually exist.
1. that we are still, still, still, in an unwinnable war. i bet you couldnt have guessed that a few years ago!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Costco - An Introspective
I sat on a machine-crafted, Chinese-manufactured ottoman. Cardboard boxes full of the same replicated ottomans surrounded my sitting place, creating a cozy niche in which I reclined and settled in for an observation. The piece of furniture I occupied was the floor model, which doubled as a resting stop for the great number of men and women who needed to take a break from their long-winded shopping trips. Looking left and then right, a vast row of different furniture pieces and their respective floor models stood, waiting to be tested. The setting was ideal.
I was in Costco Wholesale, described by many as a ‘big box’ store for the shape it resembles. Costco does not just specialize in selling one genre of goods. The store is appealing to a large retail audience by providing a one-stop-shopping experience, as well as lower prices on goods for which they would pay more elsewhere. Anything that one might need; be it fresh produce, clothing, in-home entertainment, or furniture, is all under one roof. This is good for both the consumer and the ethnographer. Where there are good deals, there is ample observational material for an observer. And, seeing as though I had yet to eat dinner, the free sample stations were to provide me sustenance at any time.
The people that shop at Costco range from young to old and across all racial lines. I conducted a simple tally count of the general populous shopping at Costco on a Tuesday afternoon between 5:00 pm and 5:30 pm. Although it is a non-scientific and quite simple tally, it provides a general view of the demographic of Costco customers. In a half an hour period, there were more customers shopping alone than with a partner or family. Perhaps this is because the time of observation. It was soon after a standard workday ends (usually around 5:00 pm) and perhaps these individual customers were given the task of picking up goods for that evening on the way home from work. Another interesting tally number that stood out to me was that, in a half hour period, more men were shopping at Costco than women. With no tallies completed at other large box stores, like Safeway or Walmart, I have no standard for gender comparison. An interesting further study would be to record this trend. At Costco, shoppers had a choice of shopping baskets. Unlike other stores, there are no hand-held baskets available at Costco. Their choices included a standard sized shopping cart, an extra large shopping cart, or a large dolly on which to carry pallet upon pallet of various goods. In my observations most shoppers used the standard shopping cart, although it was surprising how many dollies were used to carry extremely large amounts of food and other goods.
After observing the throngs of Costco shoppers, which were numerous even for the assumed off-peak shopping time, I left my ottoman and observed customer trends at the free sample stations. There are several sample stations set up across the store. To grasp the physical expanse of Costco, one could try and imagine anywhere between 5-10 sample stations set up nearly equidistantly throughout the store. This surely indicates the length of time an average customer spends at Costco, or the amount of energy one must spend there to gather supplies for everyday living. I picked two stations on opposite sides of the store to observe. Initially, I felt slightly uncomfortable lingering by the stations. I introduced myself to two individual ‘sample ladies’ as I would soon know to call them, and afterwards felt more comfortable observing. One woman, named Stacy, was selling four-cheese-and-pepperoni pizza rolls, and the other, Dolly, was handing out fresh baked dinner rolls. I must say I was biased towards these two sample stations, because they both sounded delicious to me at the time. Apparently, customers at Costco felt the same way I did. After standing at each station for about 15 minutes, in which time both the pizza rolls and dinner rolls had been sampled-out and replenished (pizza rolls once, dinner rolls twice), upwards of 30 people had stopped at each station. Little to no conversation occurred between the sample ladies and the customers. I observed one or two dialogues started by a customer asking a few questions about the product being sampled, but many customers simply picked up a sample and kept their cart rolling. This customer-employee relationship would be yet another interesting study.
My time at Costco was nearing a close. The manager, whom I had to speak with to be allowed in the store without a Costco Club Card, left his office in the back of the store to ask how I was doing after about an hour. I understood that I had contributed little to their profit intake that day, having taken at least an entire pizza and dinner roll for myself. I left Costco with questions for further exploration, and a greater understanding of the vast expanse that this box store embodies.
I was in Costco Wholesale, described by many as a ‘big box’ store for the shape it resembles. Costco does not just specialize in selling one genre of goods. The store is appealing to a large retail audience by providing a one-stop-shopping experience, as well as lower prices on goods for which they would pay more elsewhere. Anything that one might need; be it fresh produce, clothing, in-home entertainment, or furniture, is all under one roof. This is good for both the consumer and the ethnographer. Where there are good deals, there is ample observational material for an observer. And, seeing as though I had yet to eat dinner, the free sample stations were to provide me sustenance at any time.
The people that shop at Costco range from young to old and across all racial lines. I conducted a simple tally count of the general populous shopping at Costco on a Tuesday afternoon between 5:00 pm and 5:30 pm. Although it is a non-scientific and quite simple tally, it provides a general view of the demographic of Costco customers. In a half an hour period, there were more customers shopping alone than with a partner or family. Perhaps this is because the time of observation. It was soon after a standard workday ends (usually around 5:00 pm) and perhaps these individual customers were given the task of picking up goods for that evening on the way home from work. Another interesting tally number that stood out to me was that, in a half hour period, more men were shopping at Costco than women. With no tallies completed at other large box stores, like Safeway or Walmart, I have no standard for gender comparison. An interesting further study would be to record this trend. At Costco, shoppers had a choice of shopping baskets. Unlike other stores, there are no hand-held baskets available at Costco. Their choices included a standard sized shopping cart, an extra large shopping cart, or a large dolly on which to carry pallet upon pallet of various goods. In my observations most shoppers used the standard shopping cart, although it was surprising how many dollies were used to carry extremely large amounts of food and other goods.
After observing the throngs of Costco shoppers, which were numerous even for the assumed off-peak shopping time, I left my ottoman and observed customer trends at the free sample stations. There are several sample stations set up across the store. To grasp the physical expanse of Costco, one could try and imagine anywhere between 5-10 sample stations set up nearly equidistantly throughout the store. This surely indicates the length of time an average customer spends at Costco, or the amount of energy one must spend there to gather supplies for everyday living. I picked two stations on opposite sides of the store to observe. Initially, I felt slightly uncomfortable lingering by the stations. I introduced myself to two individual ‘sample ladies’ as I would soon know to call them, and afterwards felt more comfortable observing. One woman, named Stacy, was selling four-cheese-and-pepperoni pizza rolls, and the other, Dolly, was handing out fresh baked dinner rolls. I must say I was biased towards these two sample stations, because they both sounded delicious to me at the time. Apparently, customers at Costco felt the same way I did. After standing at each station for about 15 minutes, in which time both the pizza rolls and dinner rolls had been sampled-out and replenished (pizza rolls once, dinner rolls twice), upwards of 30 people had stopped at each station. Little to no conversation occurred between the sample ladies and the customers. I observed one or two dialogues started by a customer asking a few questions about the product being sampled, but many customers simply picked up a sample and kept their cart rolling. This customer-employee relationship would be yet another interesting study.
My time at Costco was nearing a close. The manager, whom I had to speak with to be allowed in the store without a Costco Club Card, left his office in the back of the store to ask how I was doing after about an hour. I understood that I had contributed little to their profit intake that day, having taken at least an entire pizza and dinner roll for myself. I left Costco with questions for further exploration, and a greater understanding of the vast expanse that this box store embodies.
Monday, January 14, 2008
the un-dead eyes of a mcdonalds employee
the drive-thru speaker was broken. a hand written note said to me, with no punctuation, that i must pull forward to the first window to order and we are really really sorry. i weighed my options heavily as i sat behind a dirty ford pickup who had already chosen to stay, all the while realizing that mcdonalds was the last place i thought i would be at 11 pm on a saturday night. i could do 2 things - either back up slowly, trying not to hit the curb or the broken speaker that was causing the delays; or i could wait, idling my car, making eye contact with the man in the pickup through his side mirror. did i have anything else to do that night? the answer was no. it was so odd, so unlikely that i was at mcdonalds in the first place, that some voice inside me told me to ignore all rationality and wait. so i waited. i waited until another car pulled up behind me, trapping me in. i had no choice, now. i waited some more, until another car came around the corner, read the sign, and decided to stick around. good, i thought, at least the car behind me is trapped as well. all of us, for some reason, were willing to wait.
about 15 minutes later, after i had turned off my car and tried to doze off for a few minutes, it was my turn to reach the first window. i was excited. i was ready. i wanted mcnuggets. as is commonly expected at drive-thru restaurants these days, i was ready to encounter a walking, talking ordering machine - a cute little metal speaker, that monotonously took my order, and maybe was wearing a bright yellow mcdonalds hat perched on its angular, metallic head. imagine my surprise, then, when a woman - a bright eyed, enthusiastic mcdonalds team member stuck her head out the window and asked how i was. i was thrilled. we started talking, seeing as though i had a few minutes before i would be out of the awkward 'transaction complete but still sitting in front of a stranger in a window' part of the drive-thru experience. she was lovely. she commented on my music, and i asked her if she was mad the speaker wasnt working. 'i actually like it,' she said. 'i get to talk to real people.'
i pulled up to the second window, and got my mcnuggets shortly after. the pickup truck in front of me was long gone, and the lady in the first window was now talking to the car behind me. they were laughing. the store manager, flustered beyond reason and dedicated to commanding his overworked crew, thrusted the bag of grease at me and said he was very, very sorry. i took one last look at the most real connection i had ever experienced at a drive through, and turned to him and said, 'hey, dont be sorry. it was great. i got to talk to real people.'
about 15 minutes later, after i had turned off my car and tried to doze off for a few minutes, it was my turn to reach the first window. i was excited. i was ready. i wanted mcnuggets. as is commonly expected at drive-thru restaurants these days, i was ready to encounter a walking, talking ordering machine - a cute little metal speaker, that monotonously took my order, and maybe was wearing a bright yellow mcdonalds hat perched on its angular, metallic head. imagine my surprise, then, when a woman - a bright eyed, enthusiastic mcdonalds team member stuck her head out the window and asked how i was. i was thrilled. we started talking, seeing as though i had a few minutes before i would be out of the awkward 'transaction complete but still sitting in front of a stranger in a window' part of the drive-thru experience. she was lovely. she commented on my music, and i asked her if she was mad the speaker wasnt working. 'i actually like it,' she said. 'i get to talk to real people.'
i pulled up to the second window, and got my mcnuggets shortly after. the pickup truck in front of me was long gone, and the lady in the first window was now talking to the car behind me. they were laughing. the store manager, flustered beyond reason and dedicated to commanding his overworked crew, thrusted the bag of grease at me and said he was very, very sorry. i took one last look at the most real connection i had ever experienced at a drive through, and turned to him and said, 'hey, dont be sorry. it was great. i got to talk to real people.'
Friday, January 11, 2008
i was walking fast
I was walking fast today. I felt like I was going about twice my normal pace, feeling the pulse of the music throb against my eardrums and reverberate right through my nerves and pick up my feet faster than usual. I was walking fast and listening to this throb and I felt ok, I felt awake and a little free. I was walking at a pace I felt I had control over, I felt my steps all the way up through my legs to my hips, through my skeleton, allowing me to feel my body. It felt good to feel my body through the cement, through the shoes, from the inside. I looked into everyone’s eyes, something I typically do when I walk on Broadway, and I felt good, just like them, just like I have not for quite a while. I had a purpose; my pace told me so. I walked two blocks and felt the stagnant air push aside to let me pass, in my fast pace, my purposeful and good pace, and I kept going straight ahead. It is human nature to look at reflective windows when one walks by them, so I stuck to nature and did. And I saw myself, and I saw my legs move – left…right…left…right – I saw a woman with a briefcase immediately move from ahead of me to in line with me to far past me. I saw groups of students pass me; sometimes turning their shoulders to not hit my slow moving frame which I guess was a kind thing to do. I was a turtle, I was a rock; my legs were barely lifting themselves up above the cement that seemed to be glue. I turned my head quickly back straight ahead, frightened, and the street zoomed back to high speed. I was flying now, my feet were wings, I was passing people and making eye contact and feeling the pulse and I turned my head back to my reflection and I was almost stopped still. I did not know what real time was, which image I should trust, whether or not I would get to class earlier than usual or arrive late. I did not feel like my brain was connecting to my legs, my legs connecting to the music throbbing in my eardrum, the beat connecting to reality. I turned back and forth between my internal perception to external reflection and I felt dizzy. The song in my ears was climaxing and I was nearing the end of the reflective windows and I kept looking back and forth and back and forth, seeing my steps fly then stand still, fly then stand still – I had to do something to make them equal. I stopped looking at the world through my eyes and turned to my image, allowing the world to be neutralized and allowing me to be the stable factor. I took the music influencing my step out of my ears; it seemed inconsequential now that I had stopped my pace. I stared long and hard at my surroundings then back at myself, making the peoples’ steps around me right in tune with their own reality – left, right, left, right – helping me feel a little more aware of my own. I took out a watch and counted seconds, 1, 2, 3 – up to 47, until the world was synchronized with standard time. I took one last look in the last window, straight into my eyes, noticed the pupils gasping for air, first dilating then constricting, dilating then constricting, like the inside of me had almost drowned and I saved it just in time…I turned straight ahead. I looked down at my feet, and started walking again. I counted my steps and stared at the second hand the rest of the walk, and arrived to class exactly on time.
-October 4th, 2005
-October 4th, 2005
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