537 CUBA

It's Ground Hog's Day! Megan's favourite holiday!

A ver, si podria volver a un tiempo en mi vida, I would easily return to the night Orishas was playing at Sweets Ballroom in Oakland in November 2005. That was an amazing show.

The sun is beginning to burn through the clouds. I am sitting in one of our labs and am contemplating on the phone interview I just had. I applied for a fellowship with the Full Circle Fund of San Francisco. It's a young philanthropic organization and I think it would be pretty cool to partner with them and plug into the various circles of folks who are part of this movement to improve this thing we call society.

We've been playing phone tag this week and decisions will be made tomorrow.

This is the kind of professional step that would be awesome. I am looking to get my tech skills up, learning best practices that some folks already have training on and collaborating with other CTCs (Community Technology Centers) to increase the reach of GirlSource and other youth organizations.

I realize that I don't know what kind of impression I make...I treat interviews like I do every conversation...I like to dig for information, want it to be stimulating for all parties involved...but don't know if I drop the professional tag lines that make me memorable...hrm...

Yesterday seems like a blur...I am much less tired, although I have a systemic sense of tired from not having ingested my vitamins and minerals for 3 days. (They are packed away somewhere and my eyeballs definitely have that tired feeling behind them...I'll find them soon enough.)

Yesterday was raining, an almost 3 hour ride into the city. The bus driver definitely hit on me in a subtle way. I also fell asleep while he and some passengers got into a philosophical discussion about the role church played in his life.

I was miffed that my express bus was stuck behind a wall of traffic like any other mortal car because there is no commuter lane coming from 580/24 way and told Ms. Megan so as I rode a 9 San Bruno to my office after getting breakfast and lunch at Urban Harvest.

I burned through my organic bananas, pear, apple, yogurt, and vegetable soup as if eating was my job function.

I was reorienting myself to the office after not seeing it for a week. Laying the plan out for getting ready for program...TLP starts next week and it's the first time in 3 years I will NOT be in the classroom. Again, I feel strange not to be there, but am excited about supporting programs with their needs and that surge of energy that I always seem to bring into a room.

I'm goofy. I like to get my work done, but I also want to energize people. I am more than willing to dance, pull out a personality from some random tv show or run up and hug folks before anything else needs to get done.

If you feel love, you can get so much done.

I was also planning on meeting Ms. Bonnie for dinner and catch up.

At 7:05 Kimmy gave me a ride through the rain to the 16th and Mission BART station.
It is under severe construction. There is an outer structure sheltering the work being done underneath.

As I walked down the escalator, I noticed the pidgeons had taken shelter in the eaves of this structure. All were fluffed up in little pidgeon balls to keep themselves warm. Poor pidgeons.

I paused a moment, only to be jarred back when I almost encountered pidgeon poo with my left hand. They weren't too cold to relieve themselves.

Ewww. Lift your hand, Erika and pay attention. You have a BART train to catch to 12th and Broadway.

I am reading a book on the history of Caribbean music lent to me by one of our educators. It's strange to read about one's culture so late in life. I have grown up with salsa and son and guaguanco and montuno and many more... but I have never read about them in an academic context.

The author is taking the Caribbean and examining it through the lens of the different musics, the people who create it (Europeans, Indigenous, and Africans), the politics that helped shape the creolization of the music and the history.

It's fascinating.

Like, I never knew which Africans landed in which countries. The study of the slave trade never went into so much depth in high school. The slave trade kinda happened; much like the Civil War kinda happened to settle the slavery debate.

But it was never really put into the context of people and how societies were destroyed, reshaped, and reconfigured because of it.

I'm finding it absolutely fascinating.

My island is given the honor of the danzon. Coolio. Now I need to study the danzon and wield it like a Puerto Rican flag, pastele, or platano. I know I have heard this music, but I want to know it as a danzon intellectually now, and not just an emotional rhythm that I have known since I was in the womb.

I digress. I fell asleep on the BART and woke up at the West Oakland Station.

I sat up and collected my things for the next stop, 12th and Broadway. The BART was crowded and smelled of wet people. Wet raincoats, wet umbrellas, wet everything.

The doors opened and I spilled out of the car with my companions and rhythmically stomped along the stairs, subliminally inspired by the book I was reading. One flight, slide my BART ticket in, and a second flight along the escalator.

Rain poured down from above me, illuminated by an orange saline street light. It was cool against my face and dripped into my smile. The night just felt GOOD.

Bonnie's car was nowhere to be found, and the rain was getting wetter...more drops, more frequent drops...

I found shelter at a bus shelter that already seemed occupied with someone's belongings in a shopping cart. Not wanting to disturb the occupant, I stepped just outside of the shelter and looked along the street for Bonnie's car.

A wet gentleman wearing a soaked long brown puff coat stepped before me and extended his hand. I didn't get his name but his nails were long. He may have been the owner of the cart.

Mr. Man told me that I was beautiful, asked me to have dinner with him sometime. I declined, politely. He told me that I had beautiful feet (I was wearing sandals.) and I looked for Bonnie's car. I thanked him for the compliment, but told him I was a bitter single woman and that I didn't want to call him, thank you. He said he just lost his job and can't see his kids, but he considers himself blessed.

Wow. Talk about perspective.

Across the street, I see Bonnie poised in her car.

She seems...soo...far...away....

But she's there! I tell him thank you and good luck and before I turn away, he grabs my hand, kisses it and tells me I made his evening beautiful.

Chivalry.

Why do I always get chivalry from my street boyfriends? Nevermind this man looked about my dad's age. He had a dark chocolate face impressed with lines indicating he's experienced much of life. His skin glistened with rain and I scuttled quickly to Bonnie's car...so we could enjoy DINNER!

Dinner at Shan Dong was a lovely treat of handmade noodles, sizzling rice soup, fried pork dumplings, and a sweet and sour chicken that just hit the spot.

This dishes were probably not the most authentic, but they were soul filling dishes.
And I had fruit and veggies all day...so I don't feel SO guilty...

We caught up on life, Ms. Bonnie and I. I love how she and I are parelleling in our processes. She's bought a house recently and I switched spots. She's learning what it means to be a business owner. I get a lot of inspiration from her.

We drove along Highway 13 and then back down the hill to my new house. The Mormon Temple glowed eeriely in the falling rain.

We said good-bye and I got in the house.

Roomie David was home and I cleared a few more things out of the kitchen into my room. I guess that counts as a box. We also got the net connection working for me, so I can blog from my room tonight. (yay.)

I wanted to crash really bad, but returned my phone calls. Really glad to catch up with Fumi and so my plans to check out Phil's band on Friday is turning into girl's night with Fumi so we can catch up. (Sorry Phil and Kwesi.)

More later...gotta get the website updated to stave off the ire of a board member.
This wasn't part of my job decscription before...so this is new to have to ask "how high" when the board says jump.

Hrm...