Friday, May 28

Argentina 2: Not Considered a Priceless Jewel and ShantyTown

BIENVENIDOS A ARGENTINA!!!

I have made it safely and yet again I realize how Spanish a Spanish-speaking country is! Imagine that—Spanish.

I am proud to say that I have officially survived several things in my two days being here—of which I am sure I will have to survive again.

1: Drivers who don’t consider you a priceless jewel as they would in the US—probably because Americans have a predisposition to suing the living daylights out of you if you even contemplate running them over. So if you think that you will possibly be able to spare your life by crossing at a specific time, just wait—they have a tendency to not see you standing very obviously in the middle of the street.

1B: Another odd street thing: I actually saw one native here, beat the trunk of a car in a traffic jam so that he could get through two bumpers. So I’ve adapted the rules of the road here: When not sure of the rules—be like the Argentines and beat cars and run real fast!

2: Everybody is SO stylish here! I’ve seen a Lacoste, Christine Dior, and some other store names that I don’t—and probably never will—have in my closet. I like their color combos and the cuts of their jackets and sweaters and such. It’s only 68 degrees here right now, but they are dressed in November-esque coats—not snowing, but nippy. I don’t think they could handle the degreed weather of true winter where you don’t want to open your mouth cuz your spit might freeze while trying to make it to class on time.

3: The train makes me VERY sleepy!! I tried to stay awake to see the different areas of Buenos Aires today, but each way on the 45-minute route, I would fall asleep at exactly ½ way. Dang! The landscape ranged from makeshift living arrangements called “ShantyTown” to elitist mansions fit for a King—or embassy ambassador. The most unfortunate and most perplexing sight I saw while on the train was a man on the 3rd floor flat on a very new and chic MacBook Pro talking on his BlackBerry—overlooking abject poverty in ShantyTown.. Oh the irony. I wonder what he was thinking about. Did he even see them at all? Who knows.

4: I am realizing how regional food names can be just plain surprising. Just to get it straight—I don’t eat pork, prefer no cheese (lactose intolerant), and I don’t eat/like eggs. Today, I ate ravioli which does have cheese—I didn’t see the chicken option—and I had flan which is egg-based. Epic fail. I do try flan every 5 or so years just to see if I’ll change my mind on the taste/texture/egginess…Yet again—no point for the Flan Team.

4B: My most interesting food intake was yesterday when I ordered a “Tortilla With Some Unknown Random Words” after it. I was expecting maybe a burrito—something with a corn or flour tortilla. Out comes a Potato and Ham Omelette. Bliss. It was real pretty, but I traded for a steak.

Sunday, May 23

Argentina 1: 72 Hours and an Empty Suitcase, but I Got My Crocs!

I'm sitting on the couch and quite perplexed at my inability to start packing for Argentina...did you know I'll be leaving the country in less than 72 hours?! What happened to the convo where I said-- "Oh yes...my trip to Argentina this summer...Yeah I know...two months away...yeah...real soon..." 72 HOURS?!?!?!!! UGH!

I have officially bought out all the travel size everything at Target and Walmart...Jesus worked a miracle and I found Crocs, the shoes, for $10 by mistake and divine appointment. I'll tell you that story.

I really needed water-proof shoes. My last pair served its last day in Mexico and are probably now on some needy person's toes in Morelia. I knew that Crocs would be great and lightweight, but they are also $35 and NEVER on sale--cool stuff doesn't go on clearance. I searched the entire mall for them and to no avail. Super sad. I asked at the last store if they knew where I could buy some and she recommended I try Dillards.

Dillards?! Land of way-expensive stuff? I never go there cuz I'm too broke to even breathe their air. I graciously accepted her advice and made the death march towards the store not fit for the Broke College Person. I go to the shoe section and the lady points me to the Crocs. I saw they had a cute pair--hmm...These might work. I asked the lady--"Are all of these $35?" She proceeds to affirm that. I go to find my size--8, 8, 6 (who wears a size 6?) ...10...Wow! They have my size. I slide them out and turn them around to find the price. Are my eyes deceiving me? Could this really be? No way!!! On the back of the only pair of Size 10 Crocs is a clearance price that says $10.45!!! TEN DOLLARS AND FORTY-FIVE CENTS! Before I do the two-step Baptist dance in the middle of Dillards, I went to ask if this could be a mistake. The lady rolls her eyes when I ask her if the Crocs were on sale-- "Crocs are never on sale." I wanted to tell her--"Well you don't know my God!" I brought her my treasured Crocs and she says--"Well there must be a mistake, but I have to give them to you for this price."

When there seems to be no way, God steps in and BAM! sale.


Monday, May 10

No more dreads! No more dreads!


It’s 6:13 in the morning and I’m ready. Today is the day. I am taking out my dreads.

Started this journey almost 6 months ago. My dreads were supposed to stay in for 8 years or until I turned 30, but that’s not going to happen. Just shy of 6 months is enough.

I didn’t realize then what I see now which is that my growing dreads was a extrinsic sign of my intrinsic transformational process. It was an “I have no idea what I’m doing with my life so I’m going to grow dreads until I get some answers” kind of thing. I didn’t know this was why I grew them until about March (I got them November 20). Now that I have my answer that I was looking for, I feel that it is time to take them out.

What is my answer? Simple. My answer is “I have no idea.” 4 words. I can now rest assured that I’m completely clueless and that is fine by me. If you need more insight on this, read the blog entry under this one.

Now, I’ve chosen today because this is also my Mother’s Day gift to my Mom, Denise. I know she’ll read this so “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!!!!!” She’s a pretty awesome lady—you should meet her one day.

I’m getting into the shower now and will post pics throughout this process hopefully.

Dreads—I shall miss thine…You have served your purpose well…and it is time to be retired.

6:55—Just got out the shower and I got sad. I’m excited to see how much longer my hair is compared to my last fro dated Nov. 20. With lots of conditioner, peanut oil (next best thing in the cabinet to olive oil—hopefully…), prayer, and sunshine. Inhale…exhale….inhale…ex…hale…

Around 2:30—I’M DONE!!! Almost 8 hours later, all my dreads are out.

Around 7:30—I found another dread in the back of my head and almost felt the urge to say a bad word. The nerve of my head to do a magic trick like that!

Sunday Morning Around 10 am—I just got out the shower. It took 35 minutes to comb through my hair, but there should be no more tangles. I found a cute dress at JC Penney’s and am going to wear it to celebrate my First-Fro-Post-Dreads Day. My head is SOSOOOO sore!! I don’t want to even touch it anymore! But what’s done is done and I’m excited. I feel accomplished and can’t wait to show the world natural hair—big, wild, unexpected, and super curly.

Wednesday, May 5

How My Ego Resembled Grapes

Well, the semester has ended, summer will commence as soon as I’m done writing this paper. When I think about the assignment, a “Self-Actualization/Personal Enhancement Project Final Paper,” my heart is filled with so many emotions—happiness, sadness, confusion, purpose, and the list goes on and on.

This semester has completely bruised my ego. Ego is great when it’s used in the right place. According to Merriam Webster Dictionary Online, an “ego” is “the self especially as contrasted with another self or the world”. So what exactly happens when an ego is bruised? Again I consulted my favorite dictionary and to “bruise” is to “break down by pounding”. So to “bruise an ego” would be to crush one’s image as it is compared to people and things outside of oneself. That would precisely be my semester.

Now is this necessarily a bad thing? It depends. Most people like grapes which can be bought at any grocery store. However, only when grapes are crushed and fermented and left to their own devices (a seemingly violent and depressing process) will their insides transform into a smooth-tasting, dinner-enhancing beverage that is sought after in the most high-class circles of society. One can buy grapes for $1.50 a bunch, or one can buy wine for a minimum of $4.00 a glass—sometimes reaching up into the thousands for four ounces. Wine cannot be created unless grapes endure bruising and crushing, and I cannot be enhanced without the same. This is where my personal enhancement and self-actualization commences.

I began planning for this semester back in December. For the last week before a new year and before my birthday, I do a self-assessment to see where I am currently and how much I’ve accomplished on my life list. It works out pretty well because my birthday is in May, which is almost ½ way between Decembers. I had all my ducks in a row. I was going to be the best TA (teaching assistant) I could be, read more, laugh more, study Black people and culture in a hands-on way, and a litany of other things. One of the endeavors I was most proud of was my Education Policy and Ethics class that I would be taking that following semester. I had been planning for YEARS to be an education policy analyst. When I found that title, I was convinced that was where I was headed and knew I was going to love it forever. There would be no need to ever look for another type of position—ever. I had studied resumes of analysts online, knew where the jobs were, and several pathways to get there. This class was going to be my “Intro Into What I Will Be Doing For Life” class. I would ace the class, love policy even more, and know where and in what I would get my doctorate degree.

Now enter my ego. I somehow got into my head a long time ago that I needed to be superior to everyone and everything in the world. Now this has been tapered down over years, but that inkling of needing to be great in all things is still there. I want to be first and best. There’s nothing wrong with choosing to be great in all things, but what is your standard of measurement? If it is yourself, great—there is no ego there. However, if your standard of measurement is others’ lives, then you will constantly be trying to outdo other people, which leaves a path of hurt behind you as you accomplish your personal goals. This is what I had been doing and this pattern had to stop. I could have eventually attained all that I wanted to attain in life, but there would eventually come a time where I would be humbled and would have to backtrack through my path of destruction and meet all those people again whom I had hurt. But in this process, few would be willing to help me because I had hurt them. It’s better to build than destroy.

My ego was not necessarily in what I had accomplished, although God has truly blessed me with some incredible experiences and a great looking resume. It was rather in being able to plan out my life and finish what I had set out to finish. I told everyone that I was going to finish my degrees, what schools I was planning on attending, and what internships in which I would take part… In some circles this type of conversation would be fine, but where I was living, these outlandish goals and ideas and plans were so daunting and intimidating that people would set me aside as someone who had nothing in common with them. This is where I found comfort—as a separatist fluffed up with myself. My goals of being great had trampled on others’ dreams of being great. I had trumped their plans by making myself look amazing.

Now enter the beginning of my semester and my process of “bruising”. I was sitting in my education policy class in March and I began to think about my life. I was listening to the professor and I thought to myself, “I really don’t like education policy.” Shocked and amazed, I repeated this to myself over and over. If I didn’t like this class, then this is not where I’m supposed to be in life. This six-word sentence escaping from my neural pathway was a declaration to myself that my plans and my ideas and my goals and my dreams were nowhere close to my true purpose in this world. What in heaven am I to do when my whole existence, which was being an education policy analyst, is now in shambles? I was back to square one. People everywhere who knew me for being the Life Planner couldn’t believe that I had no plan. All I could say in response to their “What are you up to these days, Jenaya” questions was, “I have no idea…”

What did this do to me? It made me who I am in May 2010. I am now for the first time in my life able to rest assured in the idea that Jesus holds my future and that He knows where I am supposed to be. My plans have been drowned in His grace and I am “just chillin” in the Sea of His Purpose. I know that sounds quite cliché, but there’s no other way to put it. My self over this semester has been actualized not in six words, but in four—“I have no idea”. What a freeing thought to know that one’s entire existence is not placed in a finite and imperfect being—myself. This way of life is currently incredibly stressful—but all new things are stressful.

The book I read for my personal enhancement project was called “Embracing the Real World: The Black Woman’s Guide to Life After College” by Chaz Kyser. She at one time was a new graduate and wrote about her challenges in life after college. I wish I could say that I followed all of her steps so that I could be prepared to conquer the world after I graduated—which was my goal in my project, but I can’t. I am still completely clueless as to where I will end up in my life. This book was supposed to help me create a strong, indestructible pathway to becoming the great and might policy analyst. It was supposed to help me be that great woman in Washington D.C. in my condo with a small window box with basil and cilantro growing in it. But that’s not the purpose I obtained this semester.

What exactly did I gain from my project? I gained a lot of peace and assurance that my future will be full of opportunities to serve people in a variety of custom-made opportunities. I began thinking about my life and the neat things that I have done, and I noticed one thing. They all fell in my lap. I did have to be in places where I would find out about the opportunities, but they all just happened. Why did I think that if I stressed and lost sleep over choosing what to do with my life, that I would get “bigger and better things” when in the past it was not so? So, my new theory, which I will be trying from now on, is allowing Jesus to place things in my lap. I figure that He knows what my life direction should be and knows how to get from Point A to Point B and C and Q and R since He’s looking at my life from a bird’s eye view and not my forest trailblazer viewpoint. By doing it my way, I’ve gotten more pudgy around my midsection from inhaling boxes of Apple Jacks when stressed, more pimples, a bruised ego, and much disappointment. In choosing Option B—Jesus’ way—I’ve gotten trips to Mexico, Belize, soon to be Argentina, almost 2 degrees paid for by Jesus, great friendships, opportunities to make an impact amongst my peers, and great nights of slumber. I think I will choose Option B for life—it just makes more sense.

One of the last questions that I will answer in this essay is where I see myself in 2, 5, and 10 years. Respectively, I will be 25, 28, and 33!!! I’m so old. At 25, I would love to have my second Master’s completed and actually maybe get a job—imagine that! In 5 years, I would love to be married to an incredible man that God promised me long ago, working in my community, and enjoying my friendships and family. At 33—I can’t even think that far in the future. Menopause I guess… But seriously, I will love watching my little squirts (kids) grow into the people they were meant to be when they grew in my womb, observing their legs run on soccer fields making goals when they used to kick me in the bladder all day. It’s quite hard to imagine life after 30.

One day at a time. One moment at a time. One conversation at a time. This is how I’m living my life now. Enjoying people and making my mind others-focused and not “resume-trumping” are my way of life now. And I have to say, I prefer it this way. My bruises are healing and hopefully my ugly ego will be depleted of all its hot air and nastiness. I want to be Jenaya—the one who is filled with purpose and love for others, is fun and vivacious, and has a unique spin on life and a bunch of spunk. This is the Jenaya that I am striving towards today. That Jenaya is who I will be at 25, 28, and 33. That Jenaya is me.