Stuff That Is Going On

I'm going to go ahead and just let this one be all frazzled and completely unrelated in content, in an attempt to give a little glimpse of the happenings of the last month and a half or so. First of all, I have been avidly following the U.S. soccer team in their smoking performance on the world futbol stage. I'm being honest when I say I can actually sit through an entire game and enjoy it, even excitedly gush about upcoming games weeks before they happen (August 12 against Mexico baby!!!). Being down here in Latin America has undoubtedly rubbed off on me, but I can promise that I'm not just one of the fairweather fans jumping on the soccer bandwagon. How can I back this claim? My fanship was tested and purified after attending a game (alone) between the U.S. and Costa Rica back in June, where we were demolished 3 to zip. I, a lone gringo, endured the jeers, stares, and insults of an insanely fired up Costa Rican crowd. Favorite chants against American fans ranged from ¨You are the son of a very disrepectable woman!¨ all the way to ¨You have AIDS.¨ Fortunately I had a throng of drunks around me who protected me from insults as their (admittedly very quiet) pet gringo. A lesser fan would have cracked under the pressure, maybe even claimed to be temporarily supporting Costa Rica, but not this one. I am fire tested. And despite that loss, the States haven't let me down one bit - we made it into the finals of the Confederation tournament in South Africa, the mini-championship before the World Cup to be held there next summer, and surprised the world by eliminating Spain (who could arguably be called the best team on the globe) with authority. In the finals we led Brazil (who could be called the best team in the world with less argument than one would give to someone who said that Texas was generally hot in the summertime) 2-0 into the second half but let the game go and lost by a goal. This smarts especially because my second team is Argentina.

This sense of pride in the States has not been confined to soccer. I've really been reflecting on how amazing it is that we can dream to such an extent, us Americans. Every kid has a dream and no matter how outlandish it can be encouraged. There is opportunity, there is hope, there is an ability to be ever set about change that I have not encountered elsewhere. Even a dream as unlikely as wanting to be a columnist-style writer/amateur rock-star trying to do something about all those things that make the world seem dark while also fighting crime on the side in a sweet suit that includes stretchy pants is not completely out of the picture. As long as the stretchy pants aren't too tight I don't think anybody would have a problem with that at all. Expressing our fondness for the Union, Mason, Beau and I sang the Star Spangled Banner at full belt-out level at the strike of midnight on July 4 and then spent the day at a volcano where we ran down the side and fell and threw a skateboard on hot lava rocks. Now all this is not to say my pride in the Independent Republic of Texas has been diminished in the slightest - quite the contrary. I proudly tell people here about the homeland every chance I get. I think it's especially hard for Mason and Johanna, being from Arkansas; naturally they lament having been born just one mere state away from greatness, and thus express their disappointment with half-hearted jibes and slights. But Beau and I can see through their facade.

That's enough for that little thread. I'd love to tell you now about trip highlights, and the best place to start would be to tell you about Tikal. Yes, one might think it is just another one of those old piles of rocks arranged in a pyramid that old people built a really really long time ago whose sole purpose today is to provide tourists with an opportunity to go back home and tell their friends over dinner of another pile of rocks arranged into a pyramid that old people built a really really long time ago that they have gone to visit, and would they like some more tea. But that simply would not be fitting to describe the absolute, universal importance of this old pile of rocks. Ladies and gentlemen, this is in fact the location used to film that scene at the end of Star Wars Episode IV where the ships (an X and a Y wing, I believe? check me on that) fly in over a green forest with some old pyramids and then Princess Leia gives medallions to Han and Chewie and Luke and the guys! Yeah. So that means that instead of saying that they've been to Tikal, an awesome Mayan ruin in northern Guatemala, these very same tourists can now say something to the effect of ¨Why yes, I have to been to the Fourth Moon of Gavin. Quite nice in the fall.¨ Writer's Note: Forgive me if that is not the right moon. I'm probably way off. (Samsonite!)

Before Tikal, we went to a great place in the forest, a little eco-lodge tucked away in the woods, and spent the afternoon...passed out in our room. After Tikal, we went to El Faro, a great place on the beach, a little resort tucked away near the Pacific Coast, and spent the morning...passed out in our room. It was a great trip for sleeping. Also for trying to float out to sea on a log, beating our chests and whooping and acting like monkeys, knocking coconuts out of trees, and for poor, unfortunate Mason, pouring (rotten, as he quickly learned) coconut juice (actually, putrid would be a better word) all over his body upon opening one of the afore-mentioned coconuts, in accordance with his role as the Silverback. Some time later we went to El Salvador with pastor Rene from the church, to the town where he is from, and spent the first day...passed out in a four hour siesta. Along with sleeping a lot, this summer has brought such exciting events as regularly drinking whole liters of yogurt and also not showering. We entertain ourselves by saying very funny things, and then quoting ourselves at least eighteen times a day for the six weeks following said hilarious comments.

English classes are going well. I help teach at a middle school from 730am to 1230, and afterwards we teach sixth graders on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 4pm, and we´ve gone through several rounds of adult classes. One just ended that was at 1pm on Tuesday and Thursday, and we also have one at 730 pm on Monday and Wednesdays. Next week hopefully we'll get started teaching a handful of people at Chili's on the Tuesdays and Thursdays until we leave. Now, if you think you feel bored just having read that, you should see the faces of the kids we bring to the 4pm class. You'd think we were enthusiastically telling them to come learn about the multitudes of varieties of paint shades under the umbrella-color of magenta, followed by a lesson on how they make those wooden popsicle sticks.

This has been a long entry...hope you feel up to date. In Dallas I once went to a concert where I was the sole member of the audience, besides a groupie who gave me a sticker and an old guy that left after a few minutes. The artist on stage was, well, not great, but I felt bad and stayed for the whole show, and afterwards he looked out and said "I don't want to point fingers or anything, but thanks for coming to the show everybody..." It was sad, to be sure, but there was a sort of head held high flair to it.

Now I don't want to point fingers or anything, but thanks for coming to the show everybody...