A Philosphy of Migration

a winter mix by precolumbian DJ!

2010-02-16T18:08:00.000-08:00

I've taken a brief hiatus on this blog, to figure out what I want to do with it really. LOL. It's kinda changed, I don't know... and now I'm thinking of starting a whole new and different blog, maybe leave this one behind... or reinvent this one. This one kinda had no direction, who knows!!! I've also been going through some personal turmoil, so a few things in my life have been taking a backseat. But I really want to post about my experiences in Peru!!!! and I will, in time!!!! :) in the meantime:

I made this mix for some of my closest pals! It was a mix I to express what my first month in Peru felt like... now I'm gonna share it with everyone!!!! I feel it's great to have on snow days! so here's to all my friends in the harsh north!!!!

peace and mad love! I miss you!!!

xoxo

download it here: www.mediafire.com/?zuyzzycmlyd

we are in the future EP!!!

2010-01-10T22:29:00.000-08:00

Listen to it here: soundcloud.com/precolumbian

my stomach has been in knots all day!!!! tonight I dropped my very first mixtape to the public. I'm very nervous but also very excited. I practically spent the whole weekend dancing in my chair listening to it. LOL! (I guess that's a good sign!)

I'd had the idea to do a dance mix for the past month, but due to various matters in my personal life, I put it off. Instead I made a longer mix of chiller, more reflective music, and distributed it to some of my closest friends and other various peeps that are in my life. I started work on this mix thursday night. From the gate, I expected the mix would be at least an hour. And then, a funny thing happened while chatting with my friend DJ Shoogacane.

I asked them if I could send them what I had completed thus far, to get their opinion on it. I think this was friday night, or saturday, and at this point, I'd only had what I considered to be half the mix. So I quickly wrapped up my work to send them an MP3. I decided to give the mix temporary closure with an explosion at the end. While uploading the file, I fell in love with how short and energetic the mix was!

I felt like it captured me really well. So I added one more track to the draft I sent Shoog, plus a bonus track at the end (which I absolutely loooooove!!!!), and there it is yo! It's mad simple, full of energy, love, and booty beats!!!I hope you like it.

I've been DJ'ing for a year and half and I have soooo much to learn about this art! I'm so in love with it! and I'm so grateful for all my super supportive friends!!! for all the people that came to my parties!!! for all the amaaaazing DJ's I've had the honor to share the dance floor with! for the people that stopped by the DJ booth to high five me after a party! Without their love and encouragement I would not be doing this!!!

keep yr booty shaking!!! enjoy!

we are in the future EP stream/download: soundcloud.com/precolumbian

school night

2010-01-03T18:11:00.000-08:00

tomorrow is my first of art school and this is how i feel:
nervous, anxious, scared, i have a headache right now, sad, frustrated, alone, hopeful, semi-productive, inspired, excited, annoyed, bored, and helpless.

i hope it goes well.

Peruvian Style Raw Tacos!!!!!

2009-12-18T14:14:00.000-08:00

This recipe is loosely based on a recipe for raw tacos I found in the Rawvolution cookbook. As I strive to add a Peruvian flavor all the foods I eat, I created this recipe today! I'll probably modify it as time passes... like many things in my life, my recipes are always a work in progress. And as I bounce ideas off friends or as people use my recipe, I'm sure it will evolve into something even more wonderful than it was at the outset. Enjoy!

Raw Tacos A La Criolla!!! LOL :P

Ingredients:

raw taco meat -
2.5 cups raw walnuts
2.5 tsp of braggs or shoyu
2 tbsp of olive oil
1.5 tsp of cumin
1 tsp of garlic powder
1 tsp of Peruvian yellow pepper powder
0.5 cup of raisins (or as many as you like, I honestly grabbed a couple of handfuls which kinda felt like half cup).

raw sour cream:
1 cup of raw brazil nuts
2.5 tsp of apple cider vinegar
2 limes for juice
0.5 tsp of salt

guacamole:
1 medium avocado (or 2 small ones)
2 tomatoes
0.25 red onion
2 limes for juice
0.25 tsp of salt (or to taste)
0.25 tsp of black pepper
a dash of Peruvian yellow pepper powder
some fresh cilantro

Directions:
First, soak your brazil nuts for half hour to an hour in filtered water. While that's soaking, let's get started on the taco meat!

Blend the 2.5 cups of walnuts until they're nicely granulated. Pour them into a medium sized mixing bowl and add the rest of the ingredients. Mix it well! (I either add or take away olive oil depending on the consistency I want). Once that's done, we can start work on the guacamole.

Scoop out the avocado into small mixing bowl. Add lime juice, and start mashing the avocado until it makes a good paste! dice the tomatoes and the red onion. Add them and the rest of the ingredients and mix well.

By this time, the brazil nuts have soaked long enough. Granulate the brazil nuts in your blender or food processor. Once you have a good brazil nut ground, add the rest of the ingredients. Puree this until it's nice and creamy!!!

Everything is made now and is ready to serve!!!! I use either rainbow chard or lacinato kale as my "tortilla" wraps. You can also top it with a little bit of Salsa Criolla and Canchita to make it real criollo!

This recipe makes approximately 10-12 tacos.

PROVECHO!!! :)

ps- for pics of the whole process you can visit my facebook page! but you can see them only if you're my friend. If you're not... your loss! :P LOL

my first logo ever! yay!

2009-12-02T11:57:00.000-08:00

Owls* are one of the oldest species of animal still around today. Fossils of owls date back as far as 60 million years ago. Depictions of owls are found in cave paintings and throughout their existence have been part of human legend and folklore all over the world.

Many cultures view owls as ill omens, others venerate them for their wisdom, beauty, and/or their prowess as hunters.

Pre-Incan and Incan cultures worshipped owls, for their wisdom and superior skill, and were often depicted in their pottery and textiles. This is why I'm including the owl in my logo. The one I'm using is a Moche** sculpture of an owl warrior. A symbol of strength (not just physical but also mental and emotional)

*You can learn all about owls here: http://www.owlpages.com/

**The Moche civilization populated the northern coast of Peru between 200BC - 800AD. They are the largest and most represented Pre-Incan culture in Peru. You can learn more about the Moche people here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moche

morning fog...

2009-11-29T16:07:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I moved into a small room on the third floor of my parents' house. It's a modest size, 3x4 meters. Plenty of room to live and sleep. I wake up in the morning, stretch on the roof, walk downstairs, squeeze oranges and share moments with my mom and dad. Though these moments have been plentiful in the past 2 weeks, we've only shared a few in the past 3 years.

It's been challenging to live with my parents again. But that's why I moved back, right? To challenge myself, in many ways. The past 3 years were spent migrating from one end of my emotional self to the other. It's been a long and trying journey, that continues today. This is a different challenge though, because I chose it. And though I miss my communities spread through out the US, I feel good about my decision.

My daily struggles seem oddly similar, like deja vu: language is bewildering, a different culture to get accustomed to, new smells, tastes and traffic patterns.

I've recently become obsessed with the new M83*.

*M83 is a French electronic/dream pop group, www.ilovem83.com

the last dance...

2009-10-22T18:35:00.001-07:00

Next weekend is the last Baile Crunk*. It's also my going away party. I'm not sure how to best deal with all the sadness I'm feeling about leaving my community in Philadelphia, and all the small communities I have in other cities across the US (mainly DC, yea I'm looking at you pals!!). I feel like I'll probably be crying all next weekend.

It's been such a wonderful experience to put on this party with Shoog. It's been so awesome to see so many people come out, dance and get sweaty with us every month! This party has really helped me work a lot of things out in my life. I wish it wasn't ending.

The last year and a half has been amazing and challenging. I've learned a lot about myself... now I'm moving on to the next stage in my journey. I've felt ready to take this next step, but now that it's so close, I'm doubting my preparedness, LOL. What's it going to be like to live with my parents again, for the first time in almost a decade? What's it going to be like to live in a place completely different from what I know? What's it going to be like to move somewhere where I do not have a community... or a support network?

In a few weeks I will board a plane with only two bags, my bicycle, and my memories. I'm not sure when I'll be coming back. I just hope that the connections that I've made continue to be as strong as they've ever been. I would not have gotten through the last year without my amazing friends! I will definitely miss you all dearly!

So what's the best way of saying thank you?... I just hope that all the energy that I'll be putting on my final set expresses all my emotions and gratitude!!!

keep dancing!
love, me

*Baile Crunk is a monthly dance party I throw with my roommate Shoog.

coming soon

2009-09-29T07:53:00.000-07:00

Some changes are going to be happening to my blog. I've decided to combine my music blog (tothebarricadesradio.blogspot.com) with this blog. So this blog will be comprised of pretty much all of my interests, not just politics and UFO's.

Anyways, I haven't added a new entry in a while. I've been really busy spending time with friends and various other tasks. I'll be posting a new entry soon, but mostly I've been working on mentally preparing myself for a new journey.

Though I will have some relative comforts once I embark on my next move, mainly a nice paycheck for 8 months and a home to live in, I'm unsure of how everything is going to play out. I'm scared to leave my community (and comfort zone) behind, I'm scared of starting a new life in a place both familiar and soooo unfamiliar to me, I'm scared of not being strong enough to help pull my parents out of the rut they are in... I'm scared that I may not be strong enough to carve out a whole new life for myself in a place vastly different than the world that I am accustomed to.

What is goodbye going to feel like? hopefully more like a: see you next summer.

los dioses ocultos*

2009-08-27T08:06:00.000-07:00

This entry is a tribute to every one that thinks I look like Jaguar Paw**.

I found this yesterday while looking for a Caifanes*** music video and I thought it was kinda hilarious.

Note: Apocalypto is a really gory and graphically violent film, some of the clips might include some blood. Watch at your own risk! :)

Through my experience navigating these awkward interactions, where I'm being told that I look "Indian," I've come to realize that a lot of people must be unaware of mestizos. Mestizo is a term used specifically in the former Spanish and Portuguese empires to describe a person of mixed Indigenous and European heritage . I know that me posting this will not stop random muggles**** from stopping me on the street every day to tell me I look "Indian" or ask me if I'm "Native," but whatevs, if anyone reads this and was unaware and now isn't, that makes me feel good! :)

*Los Dioses Ocultos (the occult gods), is a really good song by Caifanes!

**Jaguar Paw is the main character in Apocalypto, an historically inaccurate film about the fall of the Mayans. I would also like to mention that the actor who plays Jaguar Paw is of Comanche ancestry, native to present-day: New Mexico, Oklahoma, and parts of Colorado and Arizona. I, on the other hand, am Peruvian, native to the Andean region of South America. I'm of mixed Incan and European ancestry. We do not all look the same, for reals yall!

***Caifanes is an amazing Mexican rock band from the 80's. Some of their material still lives on in the current band Jaguares, formed by the lead singer and drummer of Caifanes.

****Muggle is a term used in Harry Potter to describe persons who lack any magical ability and were not born in the magical world. I'm sure you can deduce how I use the term, so I will not explain it here. :)

racism is still very real!! duh!

2009-08-19T08:56:00.000-07:00

Last week, Tim Wise went on CNN to talk about racism and the health care debate going on right now. There's really not much that I can add. Tim Wise is completely on point and articulates his argument really well.

Here's a follow up to the video, where Tim Wise responds to some hate-mail. Also on point!

Racism, Right-Wing Rage, and the Politics of White Nostalgia

Shit is real and we need to talk about it.

The same rhetoric discussed in the video also creeps into the immigration reform debate. White xenophobia rears its ugly head and people must be vigilant or these "illegal aliens" are going to take over the country. It's funny how white folks band together at any hint of a threat to their power, even when it's not in any way changing the power dynamics of the systems of oppression in place. People of color and poor people are simply not allowed access. That's some white paranoia!

...on creating our humanity.

2009-08-05T11:59:00.000-07:00

Dehumanization, which marks not only those whose humanity has been stolen, but also (though in a different way) those who have stolen it, is a distortion of the vocation of becoming more fully human...

Because it is a distortion of being more fully human, sooner or later being less human leads the oppressed to struggle against those who made them so. In order for this struggle to have meaning, the oppressed must not, in seeking to regain their humanity (which is a way to create it), become in turn oppressors of the oppressors, but rather restorers of the humanity of both.

This, then, is the great humanistic and historical task of the oppressed: to liberate themselves and their oppressors as well. The oppressors, who oppress, exploit, and rape by virtue of their power, cannot find in this power the strength to liberate either the oppressed or themselves.

Only power that springs from the weakness of the oppressed will be sufficiently strong to free both.

-Paulo Freire, The Pedagogy of the Oppressed.

6 years ago, I was there! but I'm not there now

2009-08-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

I just recently heard about the "Smack a White Boy" action taken by some APOC's*, from what appears to be Chicago and Philly chapters of the network, and I must say that I'm thoroughly disappointed in my comrades.

Now, I should state that I identify as an Anti-authoritarian Person of Color. I've been involved with APOC collectives in a few different cities and was present for the formation of the Northeast APOC network a few years ago, which eventually led to the first Northeast regional APOC conference in Philly last year. Though I have not been involved in APOC organizing in the last few years, I am grateful for the existence of such a network. Because of it, I feel less alone in radical spaces.

One of the reasons I distanced myself from APOC was the consistent focus on white people, white supremacy, and racist white anarchists. I mean, I totally get why this happens... I've been there, we all come together for the solidarity of being among other people of color, and so hating on white people happens. A LOT! and that's fine. I love to hate on some white folks from time to time. White supremacy is real and we need to talk about it and work against it. But seriously, I feel like it is utterly unproductive to focus so much energy on white radicals and the intent of completely undermining social justice movements led by white people.

This isn't to say that I'm fine with white-led movements. I feel it's very important to call people out on their shit. Specially white people trying to work in people of color communities, or working on issues that effect POC's, without any analysis of white privilege**. Sometimes you gotta let them know, you know? But I feel we take on the role of oppressors by foregoing dialogue and violently making white people feel shitty about themselves. Is this what we want our liberation to look like? to oppress white people?

This most recent action at the Crimethinc*** convergence in Pittsburgh is a perfect illustration of my point. Where members of APOC forcibly "evicted" attendees of the Crimethinc conference from their space. I was not present nor will I detail what I've heard through various sources. You can read the full account here, posted on the APOC website. All I will say is that I do not support the actions taken.

First off! Crimethinc, in my opinion, is completely irrelevant! No one cares about Crimethinc, no one even thinks about Crimethinc until they publish some new stupid book -- with tips on how to break a compactor so you can dumpster food, or how to navigate a poly-amorous relationship in true anarchist form -- that only suburban white kids will buy at an info shop on a Saturday afternoon. (The only time they find themselves in an urban environment).

I haven't thought about Crimethinc in like 6 years until I heard about this.

I'm not sure what my comrades were thinking when they organized this, I'm not sure why they felt this was a worthwhile action, or find Crimethinc a relevant target. (They do state on the site why they did this, but I still can't see the logic). I'm also unsure of why we continue to focus our energy on whiteness, rather than empowering ourselves as people of color and working with communities of color... who have hella more to worry about than some white, smelly, train hopping anarchists holding a gathering.

For real, try going into any Latinx or Black neighborhood and ask them their thoughts on Crimethinc... I'm positive you'll get a bunch of blank stares.

This weekend is the regional APOC conference in Philly. I hope that a lot of serious processing takes place about where APOC is right now as a network and/or collective, and where it hopes to be in the future. I want to support APOC, it is so important to have safe spaces for people of color. It's also very important to converge as people of color, and utilize our collective experiences to liberate ourselves and to work with our underserved, impoverished communities of color all over this country and abroad, for our collective liberation from oppression.

I cannot stand beside this current action however, which in my opinion is reactionary and cowardice. It's so much easier to hate on white people and blame them for all the BS we go through everyday, rather than step back, and work through our own internalized racism. I know it's hard. I've been working on this shit for years... and I still have a long way to go. But taking out my aggression on some white kids isn't going to help either of us heal.

I'll be posting a passage from Paulo Freire's 'Pedagogy of the Oppressed' as my next entry. I feel he speaks a lot of truth, and it has helped me through some rough times. Shit is so real everyone!

*APOC or Anarchist People of Color is a decentralized network of radical people of color all over the US and Canada. The first APOC convergence was held in Detroit in 2003. You can learn more about them here.

**White privilege is commonly defined as an institutionalized set of advantages (visible and invisible) enjoyed by white people, and denied to people of color. White privilege is ubiquitous and can take many shapes and forms. For more on white privilege check out Peggy McIntosh's Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack.

***Crimethinc is an anarchist collective made up of mostly white people, who publish books and do various other things that I don't care about.

born on the fourth of July.

2009-07-04T08:31:00.000-07:00

Today is the 4th of July. And while most everybody gets super excited, heats up their grills, sets off their fireworks, and fills their hearts with patriotism, I can't help but feel the opposite.

I feel no affinity to this country, other than its pop culture, and various sub-cultures. LMAO, I know! just being honest!!! I was uprooted from my home as a kid and brought here 20 years ago. I was not born here... but even if I was, why would I celebrate the independence of a nation, who -- while speaking of the equality of "all men," (really meaning all white, land owning men) and the pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness -- were enslaving Africans and slaughtering Native American people and culture? The very same "savages" who had welcomed them on their land, helped them grow crops, and saved them from starvation. That's how the US shows gratitude, I guess... Thanks for helping us survive, here's some small pox for your troubles! And P.S. - We're taking your land too! Thanks!

Below you'll find an excerpt from a speech made by Frederick Douglass, in Rochester, NY. Although his words were spoken over 150 years ago, I feel they are still true today. African Americans are still oppressed, though there is no formal institution of slavery... and many immigrants experience what is dubbed "modern day slavery": working on plantations; picking our tomatoes, oranges, watermelons, etc. Without rights and without pay.

I'm totally feeling Douglass' words right about now!

Frederick Douglass, 5 July 1852
"What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?"

"What, to the American slave, is your 4th of July? I answer: a day that reveals to him, more than all other days in the year, the gross injustice and cruelty to which he is the constant victim. To him, your celebration is a sham; your boasted liberty, an unholy license; your national greatness, swelling vanity; your sounds of rejoicing are empty and heartless; your denunciations of tyrants, brass fronted impudence; your shouts of liberty and equality, hollow mockery; your prayers and hymns, your sermons and thanksgivings, with all your religious parade, and solemnity, are, to him, mere bombast, fraud, deception, impiety, and hypocrisy - a thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.

There is not a nation on the earth guilty of practices, more shocking and bloody, than are the people of these United States, at this very hour.

Go where you may, search where you will, roam through all the monarchies and despotisms of the old world, travel through South America, search out every abuse, and when you have found the last, lay your facts by the side of the everyday practices of this nation, and you will say with me, that, for revolting barbarity and shameless hypocrisy, America reigns without a rival."

Entire Speech: http://afgen.com/douglas.html

the hurt...

2009-06-30T10:46:00.000-07:00

I was partaking in my daily activity of perusing Facebook -- you know stalking people, reading survey results, trying to decide if I should take a survey... and if so, which one??? -- When I happened upon a note on my friend's profile. The note was beautifully written and it really touched me, as it spoke words and thoughts that I've been working so hard to articulate.

It basically dealt with issues of misplaced anger and pain. I have been dealing with a situation like that for over a year now, and it has not been fun. In fact it's been absolutely horrible.

It's exactly what I want to say.

Hurting me isn't going to make your pain go away. It only masks it with bitterness. I know I made mistakes, I have taken responsibility for my actions. But I'm not responsible for all your anguish, nor can I make the hurting stop.

I really do hope that you can work through your pain, and end it at its source. I've got a lot of love for you, your smile, and your cackle. I wish you the best.

Love... gonzalo.

my friend: social awkwardness

2009-06-27T23:53:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I have a hard time with social interaction. Sometimes.

what is the problem with Michael Jackson?

2009-06-27T08:51:00.000-07:00

I haven't seen Three Kings in a hella long time. But this scene always stuck out in my mind. If only people of color could go around smacking white people over the head with clipboards to make them understand the depth of Internalized Racism*.

Now I do not know how Internalized Racism affected Michael Jackson**. Judging from the evolution of his physical appearance I can only imagine it was a great weight in his heart.

As a teenager I got teased a lot about my nose. I got called a big nosed freak, Pinocchio, Dumbo, among many other names. I was born with Incan*** features (see previous entries for Pocahontas references LOL). Growing up all I wanted was to get a nose job - and as the clip states, "chop up my face." I hated myself, I hated my culture... I hated being different. I hated being not white. I wanted a cute little nose, blue eyes, and blondish-brown hair.

I don't hate myself as much these days... but I still feel a lot of self hatred. I find myself being overly proud of myself and culture, to make up for it. Kinda like when you're queer, but don't want people to find out, so you act extra straight!

The secret is out... LMAO.

*Internalized Racism as defined by Colours of Resistance: The poison of racism seeping into the psyches of people of color, until people of color believe about themselves what whites believe about them -- that they are inferior to whites. Also, the acceptance by persons of color of Eurocentric values and standards.
**RIP MJ
***The Incas were the largest civilization in Pre-Columbian America. Their territory made up what is now: Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, and parts of Colombia, Chile, and Argentina. Runa Simi, or Quechuan, is the widest spoken indigenous language in the world today.

get a leg up... but keep your head down.

2009-06-26T22:22:00.000-07:00

One of my earliest memories in the United States is one of my sister and I learning to rifle twirl. This woman whose office my family cleaned at night got us into it. She was really into it, so why not I guess? Right?

For months we practiced, and we got pretty good at it. She even took my family to a rifle twirling competition somewhere in rural Pennsylvania. Thinking about it now it was seriously terrifying. Thousands of people, in army suits (not the uniforms, but you know the suits that soldiers wear when they're not in uniform), twirling these rifles with synchronized HUA's*, scary shit. Fortunately, our involvement in the rifle twirling didn't go beyond practicing at this office, while my parent's swept the hallways.

When I started high school, I remember my adviser consistently suggested I join JROTC. For those who do not know what JROTC is, it is a federal program sponsored by the US Army. It stands for: Junior Reserve Officers Training Corps. It is an elective course in most high schools in the US, and in some states you can get phys ed credit by being in JROTC. My parents would pressure me constantly to join JROTC as well. Many recent immigrant parents are pressured by school officials to get their kids in JROTC. Oftentimes, people of color who aren't doing well in class or act up in class are forced into JROTC, as a way to learn discipline and become proper white people. Since it's obvious that the kids are the problem and not the Eurocentric public education system in the US right?

They're hella ridiculous with their sales pitch! It's a path to gaining acceptance (in a country that hates you), it's a path to citizenship, a path to success and education. (What they do not tell you is that the requirements to qualify for free college tuition, job training and citizenship are REALLY REALLY hard to meet, and few soldiers actually gain access to these wonderful benefits - waved in front of you like a carrot).

I went to two different high schools and at both schools the demographic make up of JROTC would be largely people of color, specifically Latinos. School counselors and teachers would practically funnel all the Latino immigrants to JROTC, it's hella crazy. This should come as no surprise.

In an ealier blog entry, I briefly mentioned US soldiers, and how the army is mostly made up of underprivileged folks who have little or no opportunities. A recent Pew study showed that the US military has approximately 60 thousand immigrants enlisted, half of those being non-citizens. Interesting! Undocumented and documented immigrants in the US are demonized, they are consistently under threat of deportation, face daily intimidation, can't vote, can't access many social services, but they're good enough to join the military! That's just great! GOOOOOOOOOOOOO USA! HUUUAAAAAAA!

In fact, the US military has a long history of recruiting undocumented immigrants. They even go into Mexico to recruit soldiers. Someone should tell ICE** about these people!!! FOR REALS! Could you imagine ICE raids on military bases?? OMG!

Latinos (documented and undocumented) along with African Americans also make up the largest percentage of casualties in combat.

Most Latino and African American communities in the US are impoverished... you know, racism and classism at work (I will not get hella deep into this, these alone can make up tons of blog entries). And so for these communities, joining the army is a way to advance... to get a leg up. It's all lies. People of Color and poor communities are just more disposable.

In chess, the pawns are usually the first to go. The front lines. So little value is put on the pawn that they are sacrificed to ensure the advancement and survival of more powerful pieces, your rooks, bishops, queens and kings. I guess that's what we are, pawns in a higher stakes game of chess.

*HUA is a military grunt. It's an acronym for Heard, Understood, and Acknowledged. If you've ever seen a large group of soldiers do this, it's seriouly horrific.
**ICE stands for Immigration and Customs Enforcement, it is a federal law enforcement agency created in 2003 as part of the Department of Homeland Security. Even though a budding young agency, they have already been subject to many human rights abuse complaints, with over 100 inmate deaths at ICE detention centers.

Here's a New York Times article about the "new" "pilot" program the army has to recruit non-citizens: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/15/us/15immig.html

xylophobia

2009-06-26T22:00:00.000-07:00

I LOVE THE SIMPSONS!!! When I still owned a television, it was by far my favoritest show. (I know I've been Facebooking tons about Degrassi, but sadly I never had The N). Anyways, so tonight, I was unable to watch the newest Degrassi episodes, so I settled with watching the Simpsons. Randomly, I chose the "Welcome to Homerica" episode. Amazingly enough it totally dealt with immigration.

Although completely satirical, I feel it summarizes (very briefly) and caricatures the behavior displayed by many in the US towards immigrants. It's kinda hilarious!

"Very well then, Springfield will ban all immigrants and xylophones!!!"

LMAO

go back to where YOU came from!

2009-06-26T02:07:00.000-07:00

I used to work for this annual documentary film festival in Silver Spring, MD. A couple of years ago, while working there, I watched a really interesting documentary. I chose it because it dealt with Latin American politics, Bolivian, in particular. Being an Andean native and a history/politics nerd, it only seemed logical.

Now, I haven't said much about the Iranian elections and the response that is rippling in the US media, blogosphere, twitter, whatever. I don't know much about Iranian politics and so I don't feel comfortable expressing an opinion. However, the way the media is reacting and portraying what is taking place there at the moment is really interesting... it reminds me a little of the aforementioned documentary.

It's called "Our Brand is Crisis." It's about Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada's* presidential campaign, and this team of US political consultants hired to win this particular election in 2002. And while I'm not saying that the US had anything to do with the elections in Iran, I believe US media, and the clowns who call themselves political experts on US news programs are having a huge impact in shaping the general collective response. It's also a blatant reminder of how much power the US has in shaping the global political landscape. How the US uses crisis to its benefit. How it creates it, packages it, and sells it.

The most recent example I can think of this meddling - besides the War in Iraq, where the US invaded a country, very intentionally removed a government from power and is in the process (over half a decade now) of building a "democracy" that suits its needs - is the Palestinian elections in 2006. Fully orchestrated by the US, with them controlling every aspect of Mahmoud Abbas' ** campaign. The result, as unexpected as it was (Hamas winning a majority of parliamentary seats), still served US interests as these political consultants, the media, and others shaped the outcome to continue legitimizing the collective punishment of Palestinians. Instead of recognizing the will of the Palestinian people and their democratic process.

Other examples that come to mind are Venezuela and how for over a decade the US has tried to remove Hugo Chavez from power, including but not limited to: a failed coup d'etat, organizing an oil worker strike to force an economic collapse, very unfavorable media coverage from the start (although I do feel that these days he's become a caricature of himself), substantial financial aid to opposition parties, and orchestrating recall elections.

Another example is Chile, and Washington's efforts to keep Salvador Allende*** from getting elected. When they failed, they had him assassinated in a violent military coup. Followed by decades of repressive dictatorship, wholly sponsored by the US.

On the topic of Iran, in 1953, the US also orchestrated the toppling of a democratically elected government there. At the request of United Fruit Company, the US sunk Guatemala's democracy, inciting a 50 year civil war. The list goes on and on.

Most of these horrific events either: go unnoticed by the US public (through cover ups, ignorace, or intentionally tacked on to the very end of a news story), or they are branded in a way that invokes some Pavlovian response (serving the interest of the government and/or private sector). Like the documentary states, the brand is crisis and they have to own it.

We are taught that this country is a place of good, a place of freedom. And also that being this free has a high price, payed for by soldiers... most of whom come from impoverished backgrounds, systematically disenfranchised, then given the military as their only option for survival. How ironic!

I feel the complete opposite about the US. I feel it is a place imprisoned by its own self-righteousness. You know when you tell a small lie to someone... and then somehow you have to keep lying to keep the small lie from getting out. And the whole situation snowballs to where you are just living out this whole HUGE lie, because you are afraid of people finding the truth. And discovering that you've been lying all along. To me, it's kinda like that... LOL. (Though this is no laughing matter!)

It's interesting how this self-serving meddling applies to immigration. A large number of immigrants in the US come from nations that were torn apart by wars. Most of them started and/or instigated by the US. A lot of these countries are also unstable or unable to provide basic needs to their population, due in large part to US meddling in the economies and politics of that country, not to mention the lingering legacy of colonialism. As a result, people migrate to "greener pastures," in hopes of a life with dignity. Only to end up here, to work the jobs that no one else will take, making far below minimum wage, denied many social benefits, then told to "go back to where you came from."

I wish the Europeans that established this nation would go back to where THEY came from. I wish the elected officials of this country and the media would stop being the hypocrites they are. I wish...

I'm excited and inspired by the many individuals and groups who are creating their own media! Either on the web, radio, TV, or print. We need more voices out there. We need something to counter the Big 5.****

In a couple of weeks I'll be heading to the Allied Media Conference***** in Detroit. For a minute I didn't think I had any reason to go. I'm revisiting my initial assumptions...

*Gonzalo Sanchez de Lozada was twice elected Bolivia's president. He served as president between 1993-1997 and again from 2002-2003. The latter being the subject of the film. He was forced to resign after a series of popular uprisings.
**Mahmoud Abbas is the Western backed unofficial president of the Palestinian National Authority.
***Salvador Allende was the democratically elected president of Chile from 1970-1973.
****The Big 5 is a common reference to the media conglomerates in the US: Disney, Viacom, Time Warner, News Corp, and General Electric (who owns NBC).
***** http://www.alliedmediaconference.org/

PS- For more thoughts on the US role in Iran and the Middle East (past and present): Iran had a Democracy before We Took it Away.

permanent resident alien!

2009-06-19T22:06:00.000-07:00

A while back, you know, like a year ago before I lost complete interest in this blog... I wrote an entry about my permanent state of suspended animation. Trapped in space and time, spaces between homes, adopted homes, make believe homes, and homes that make me sound way cooler in radical/punk communities. Long story short, I feel lost. I used to have a card that actually called me an alien, and I get treated like one everyday. And not even the cool type of aliens you see on the X-Files. I'm talking about the totally gross river crossing, desert traversing, visa overstaying, job stealing illegal aliens. (Yes I'm being sarcastic).

So I'm treated like a piece of shit in the US, and consider it my "home" sort of. You know, I spent a large portion of my life here. I also consider Peru my "home." I was born there and spent the my childhood there, I feel a deep connection to Peruvian culture, etc. However, I do not feel at "home" in either of these places.

In Peru, I get confused for an Argentine, and get treated like a gringo. Weird!

So here's my conundrum, how do I get myself psyched about moving back "home?"*

The reason I'm having a lot of thoughts and feelings about this, is because I'm totally excited about the idea of being Peruvian in Peru... FINALLY! but what I find every time I visit is that I'm nothing like the people in Peru. As a result, I'm treated differently. And though I absolutely loooooooove Lima, and have a wonderful time every time I am there, I always leave with a little disappointment because I felt like I was treated like a foreigner.

So yesterday I came to the obvious conclusion that - YOU KNOW WHAT? - I am a foreigner there and I need to start acting like one!

Because I spent my entire adolescence and early adulthood in the US, I act and communicate differently than people in Peru. And I need to really come to terms with that. I don't want to move there with these unrealistic expectations, only to be let down, because someone asks me where I'm from - since I'm obviously not Peruvian. Do I need to mentally prepare myself to be an "American," in my place of birth?

So complicated, I know!

*PS- If you haven't heard, I'm moving to Peru at the end of the year! woooooooo!

i have a lot of feelings...

2009-06-11T19:42:00.000-07:00

I've never had Reiki done before. To be honest, I didn't know much about it until a friend, who's currently taking Reiki classes, told me a little about it. I generally stay away from spiritual practices that aren't my own. Simply because I cringe when people (particular white people) go to Peru for spiritual and other worldly experiences. Though, I'm starting to gain a better grasp of cultural exchange and cultural appreciation, NOT appropriation. Also, a lack of Andean spiritual healing tools in the US forces me to gravitate towards other forms of healing.

So today was my first, and hopefully not last, Reiki session. It was intense to say the least. Within a couple of minutes, I was crying... my body twitching, enveloped by sadness. It was crazy how intense it felt. My friend's hand was on my tummy, or root chakra, after a minute I started feeling warmth all over my body. Then my stomach sank, and a sort of energy traveled up my body to my head. My heart started racing, tears rolled down my face, I started sniffling, while my limbs jerked a little. I could feel myself trying to suppress my emotions. We took a short break, I had to let it all out for a couple of minutes... alone.

Once composed, we continued, and I did not shed anymore tears. I felt an energy high and what I would compare to REM sleep, without actually being asleep. Or maybe I was, who knows? I was having these dreams, where a lot of negativity in my life was converted into TV drama scenarios ending in simple homilies. Problem solved! Lesson learned! Everyone is happy!

Not quite, I still have hella S to work through. My intention going into today was to rid my spirit of negativity. After multiple emotionally abusive relationships, and without any processing on my part... A lot of stuff has built up.

My arteries are clogged and I'm in desperate need of blood thinners.

funemployed? what's that???

2009-06-10T06:11:00.000-07:00

For months now I've been hella stressed with work. I had so many negative feelings about my new position. It was affecting my mental and emotional well being, it took up way more time than I had anticipated, it affected my self-confidence, it affected my relationships with friends and family, it was practically taking over my life.

I felt in many ways that I was being set up to fail. I was asked to do a number of things that required many resources, where no resources were available. I ended up stretching myself too thin, and as a result, resented my workplace and some co-workers.

It was seriously an awful situation!

Now it's over... my position was terminated. I'm not sure how to feel about it, it's weird. It was so sad to clear my cubicle last night. I had spent two years of my life in that confined space. Spent long hours, sometimes even spent the night there. It had become my second home. The band aid was ripped off quickly though... within a couple of hours I was all packed up, ready to go. No one was left in the office but me. And I said goodbye.

Isn't this what I wanted? I felt crazy with so many things to do and compromising my personal life in more ways than I would've liked to. I guess now I can breathe a little easier. Take my time and refocus on the many side projects that I have going on. Restart other projects that I had to leave behind.

It's going to be really weird for me... ever since my family landed in the US, I've been a working adult. After bouncing around several US states, we settled in Washington DC. since then, I have always worked. I was 11 years old... scrubbing office toilets, vacuuming long hallways, dusting fancy oak desks. Every night it was a different office. My family also had a very huge paper route, every Wednesday after school, there would be several thousand newspapers waiting to get rolled up and delivered. Wednesdays were always our busiest days, we delivered papers, came home to eat dinner, then headed back out to clean a couple of offices. We wouldn't get home till after 10pm. Time for bed, so we can get to school on time the next day.

I did that for awhile, until I got my green card. Then I could apply for regular office jobs, and other immigrants would clean up after me, just as I had done.

I got my US residency shortly after I started college. As a full time student I had 3 part time jobs. Sometimes it was 2 and I was able to have more of a personal life, I could also devote more time to group projects and class. Since graduation I've always worked... I've never really stopped working. EVER!

As an immigrant in the US, I feel like I've been programmed to work. Because we're undocumented; we are forced to take multiple "under the table" jobs, that don't check your papers, and are usually below minimum wage. Now that I have an opportunity to collect unemployment, and basically get paid to not work, I'm not sure how to deal with it. Unemployment in and of itself is a huge privilege I've never had access to until recently.

A couple of years ago I walked into the food stamp office, my account manager looked at my name and asked me if I was a US citizen. To which I responded "yes." She then asked me for proof. Of course I did not have it on me... and I know for a fact she doesn't ask everyone she sees for proof of citizenship. And who the hell walks around with their passports anyway?? let alone a large naturalization certificate!! She tells me that in Pennsylvania "we don't give benefits to illegal immigrants." I had to come back another day with proof of citizenship. Tail between my legs, it was annoying.

Starting a new chapter, page turned... Feet on the ground.

kicking and screaming...

2009-06-04T06:44:00.000-07:00

Sometimes doing the right thing really sucks. I'm trying really hard right now to make the right decisions for myself and my future, and I've found them to be some of the most challenging decisions of my life. I've spent weeks practically in solitude, even when surrounded by others. For the first time in my life I feel like I'm starting to gain a sense of self, making sure my needs and wants are heard, compromising in ways where I'm not compromising myself. I know that I'm making the right choices, I just wish they weren't so damn difficult.

The last time I felt confidence in myself, I was still a child; who dreamt of becoming a track star, or a famous soccer player, I was 8. Moving to the US was a very difficult thing for me, and I feel like it tore me down systematically from the inside out.

My mom and older brother had to drag me into my first US classroom, I was crying hysterically in the hallways and making myself dead weight. I did not want to leave my brother's side. In Peru, our school was comprised of primary and secondary schools (and only a block from my house), so I could always find my siblings or parents if I needed them. In the US, grade clusters are in different buildings, sometimes many miles from each other. That day, I was separated from my family in a way I never could have imagined... a wedge, driven into a cut.

A wound that hasn't yet healed.

There's still a long way to travel, my lack of self confidence has led me down many wrong paths. I've taken some right turns, but I'm still trying to find my way back.

Dragging myself there... kicking and screaming.

really? did that just happen?

2009-05-31T07:45:00.000-07:00

Last night, at the end of this party, a group of gay boys approached me to give me props. It was a very nice gesture and I was really flattered that they enjoyed my set. They're all like good job, that was awesome, high fives were exchanged, etc. AND THEN....

One goes: "good job Pocahontas!"

POCAHONTAS??? really? did that just happen?

PS- This is specially hilarious to me because just the other day I blogged about this and said: "What is going on? I start growing my hair out and all of a sudden I look like Pocahontas?" LOL

fire in the sky

2009-05-29T21:34:00.000-07:00

Some of you may or may not know this, but I am obsessed with UFO's, unidentified and identified (LOL). Like many Peruvians, I accept their existence as fact, and I've witnessed several UFO sightings in my life.

Growing up, my family would vacation in this little desert town called Chilca. Chilca is a very famous hub of UFO activity in Peru. Read a little about it here!

It is seriously one of my favoritest places in the whole world. It's about 65 kilometers south of Lima. It's real chill, there's just a few restaurants, a panaderia (bakery), some hostels, and a couple of convenience stores. The main attraction there are these 3 ponds, believed my locals (and everyone who visits there, myself included) to possess magical powers and many healing properties. Every time I visit home, I make sure to include a couple of days in Chilca!

In Peru, 50% of the population has either witnessed a UFO sighting or know someone who has! That's approximately 15 million people. Hella crazy!!!!

WATCH THE SKY!!!

jaguar paw and the shamanic industrial complex

2009-05-28T17:10:00.000-07:00

A common interaction I have with folks when they learn I'm from Peru, is that they feel the need to tell me of their amazingly transcendental experience at [insert any Inca or Pre-Incan site]. I think it's great that folks are experiencing the magic of Peru, after all, I too feel it is a mystical land full of history and energy vortexes. I just find it hilarious that it's the first thing that comes out of their mouth, like word vomit.

person: where are you from?
me: well I'm originally from Peru but I grew up in... (getting cut off by word vomit)
person: oh man, Peru is beautiful, I spent 2 weeks with a shaman in Huaraz, high up in the Andes and oh Machu Picchu, breathtaking... and so on and so on.
me: nod, smile. Oh yea, Peru is great, yea.

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day. They were telling me about how their friend was going to Peru to spend a month with a shaman in the lower amazon, and how she was going to get some sort of shamanic purge, to cleanse her body, soul, spirit, what have you. I was asked my opinion about it. Now 2 years ago, I probably would've rambled for hours about how f'ed up, ignorant, racist, imperialist it was. These days I'm way chiller, and I also understand that Peru, as a country, relies heavily on tourism (specifically US and European tourism).

The shamans and master healers lead very traditional lives and are well in tuned with Pachamana, the Apus, and the energy all around them. But they too have to operate within the same capitalist society that people in the US operate in. So they charge these tourists exorbitant fees for their services. Whatever the intention or ignorance (or not ignorant) level of these tourist groups, I understand that the healers are people who need to survive, just like anybody else. The money they are receiving goes towards buying books and uniforms for their kids, goes towards putting food on the table, etc. (It should also be noted that there are also plenty of healers who have ritualistic knowledge, but lead very "normal" lives. And aren't these mountain or jungle people that have never been in contact with the modern world - as it is perceived by many Westerners).

The me of 2-10 years ago would only view things through the mostly white, anarchist, activist lens, and ignored the actual struggles of my people. I feel that lens is quite ignorant in many ways. I realized I was viewing the world, specially the global south, from a place of privilege. As much as I love to participate in the Oppression Olympics*, I realize that I grew up in the US and there is a lot of privilege in that. I now possess a US passport and - if you've read my earlier entries - know there is hella privilege in that. Now I try to view things both ways, retain my values for social justice, but place myself in the circumstance of people in the global south... sometimes capitalism serves them well, even if it is only in the short run and mega f'ed up in a macro sense.

As a result, a whole ritual industry has emerged. Not just in Peru but in many parts of Latin America and the Global South.

Latin America as a continent is very much fetishized and romanticized, the more indigenous, the more it is desired. There are shamanic industries all over the continent. I've met many people that leave the US a fashionable hipster, and come back wearing textiles, looking all earthy and S, speaking in tongues. It happens, and you know what, that's OK, because I'm sure my people took hella advantage of that white person's ignorance! It's F'ed up, I know, my head is about to explode with irony.

I mean here you have a colonized people, most of whom were killed hundreds of years ago, and who continue dying in more subtle ways (ie. starvation and poverty), their culture ridiculed and forced to the point of near extinction. They continue to be colonized, yet you have the colonizers - the very people who destroyed the lives of these ancestors and continue benefiting from the submission of the global south - going to these places, fetishizing the same cultures they are annihilating, paying thousands of dollars (and usually getting ripped off) just so that they can spiritually masturbate for a week in the Andes or the Amazon Rainforest. I kinda love it, but it makes me really sad.

On the subject of ignorance, misconceptions, and cultural fetishism; I'm going to talk about other experiences that I've been having lately that I am not OK with at all. That is, getting asked if I'm "Indian" by everybody I run into, anywhere! What is going on? I start growing my hair out and all of a sudden I look like Pocahontas? and if so, who the F cares? have indigenous people become that invisible that anyone with some resemblance must be asked about it? as if I'm somehow out of place?

(This actually happened to me)
person: Have you ever seen that movie Apocalypto** by Mel Gibson?
me: yea
person: you know the guy, oh what's his name, puma, tiger... what's his name?
me: Jaguar Paw?
person: YEA YEA! that's it... yo, you look just like him.
me: awkward smile then quickly pretend I was preoccupied with something.

This happens to me at least once a week, sometimes several times a week. I'm not sure what the source of these urges are, it's really puzzling for me. I wonder if they feel better about themselves for having guessed correctly? is it a game for them? Yes I'm part indigenous, but seriously, I was born and raised in a city of 8 million people. Lima makes Philadelphia look like Lancaster County.

It's funny, despite my feelings on the subject, I'm totally entering the tourist industy, which in and of itself relies on mystifying Peru. Which I feel weird about, but hey, it works! Please visit my Bed & Breakfast website: www.innkaperu.com LOL! Oh the wonders of self-exploitation. But seriously! go there! I'll hook you up! My parents are wonderful hosts!!!

*The Oppression Olympics is a game played by many activists involving one person trying to upstage the other(s) in how oppressed they are or have been. It's a horrific thing to witness.

**Apocalypto is an historically inaccurate film about the fall of the Mayans. Jaguar Paw is the main character, and let me say that he is a total dreamboat! (as seen above)

***For more on tourism, capitalism, privilege, and what not; check out Bannanz's post on the subject. Totally on POINT!!!!

resistencia, consejo 04

2009-05-28T17:01:00.000-07:00

“In short white supremacy and economic power were born together. The United States is the first nation in the world to be born racist and also the first to be born capitalist. That is not a coincidence. In this country, as history shows, capitalism and racism go hand in hand.”

-Elizabeth Martinez

no love in this club! in this club! in this club!

2009-05-27T21:58:00.000-07:00

Though I've been thinking about this for a while, further shattering of my Latin@ identity came to the forefront this past weekend.

Last Thursday I received a text from a fellow DJ friend, asking if I could DJ at Rainbow Eye* on Friday and Saturday night. I was, of course, ecstatic at this opportunity. For a year now, I've been DJing mainly white spaces, thus far I've been fairly content with that. It's really not that deep for me, but I do wish I DJed spaces that were more Latin@... and of course, playing music with a Latin@ flavor, I was certain in the fact that Latin@ audiences would go crazy for me. Specially since I seemed to please the few Latin@s that navigate the same spaces I do.

While driving to North Philly, I was so excited, butterflies in my stomach with visions of Latin@ bodies uncontrollably moving to the sounds emanating from my laptop. Driving home from North Philly, I wish I'd never woken up that day. Needless to say, I politely told the bar owners that I would not be returning to DJ the following day. (Or ever for that matter).

My little brown heart sank to the pit of my stomach, and was burned by the acids.

For 3 years now, I've been searching for ways to infiltrate the Latin@ communities in Philadelphia... but I'm quickly finding out that I am nothing like them, I do not fit in them, and I don't want to become a part of those communities.

You might be saying, yo, why is this making you question the whole of Latin@ identity in the US??? for me it's deeper than being slapped in the face by a room full of Puerto Ricans; it's about the homogenization of cultural identity. Way beyond just assimilating into "American" culture... Not only internalizing White Supremacy, but also the erasing of regional/cultural identity, for the sake of gaining political clout in a country that wishes we'd never crossed its borders.

Capitalism and "Western" society are extremely efficient, creating a "Latin@/Hispanic" identity is easier to categorize and control.

Also easier to caricature... you know, like, I'm supposed to look in the mirror and see a "Chol@**" in the reflection. We've been reduced to images and sounds of Reggaeton and Bachata. Am I supposed to identify with that?

I should say that I still feel solidarity towards my brown people. It's the only thing I have in this country. I'm just becoming more aware of our differences, and I wish to cultivate the contrast; perhaps as a self-defense mechanism to shield me from disappointment. I also want to mention that I know there is much academia out there and hella intellectual arguments for the power in Latin@ identity, and I can also get down with that. Don't get me wrong, there is a lot of power and beauty in millions of Latin@s from all walks of life, all corners of the continent coming together. That's amazing to me... At this point in time however, I'm feeling a little shipwrecked.

*Rainbow Eye is a Latin@ LGBTQ bar in North Philadelphia.

**The term "Chol@" in the United States is a term mostly associated with Latin@ gangsters. Where I come from, it's a racial slur towards Indigenous people, but also used as a point of pride for Peruvian identity independent of Spanish/European culture - go figure.

For more info than you'd probably ever want to know about Chol@s: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cholo

what does that even mean?

2009-05-25T11:35:00.000-07:00

Lately things have been happening in my life that are leading me to question "Latin@" identity. I mean, what does that even mean? Being "Latin@?"

It's a manufactured word to describe a group of people, a vastly diverse population, making up the largest "ethnicity" in the western hemisphere. How did we all end up being lumped together like this? and why do we just wholly accept it as truth?

How did I get here?

I get that we all share common struggles, most of us are first or second generation immigrants. Some of us came to this country as kids and shared in that awkward stage of integrating into regular classes from ESL. Enduring the endless teasing of our accents, the foods that were packed in our school lunches, our traditional mannerisms, etc etc etc. Singled out as different from the moment we set foot in this country. It was the teasing that drove me to eradicate any trace of an accent.

Some of our parents worked as day laborers, cleaned offices and houses, struggled with language, and hopped from odd job to odd job, to make ends meet. We all shopped at the same bodegas... I get it, there are similarities.

Beneath the surface exist so many differences however, that it doesn't make sense to me to feel affinity to any other Latin@, more than I would a white person (well except for that we're all oppressed under White Supremacy). For a long time I wanted to feel that affinity, I romanticized it, sought out other Latin@s, and all-brown spaces... I'm realizing now that it is mainly a political identity, created for political gain.

I don't share much in common with Mexicans, Guatemalans, El Salvadorans, Puerto Ricans, Colombians, Argentines, etc, beyond language. Sometimes, I can't even understand what another Latin@ is saying, because our versions of Spanish are so different. So even language, the tie that supposedly binds us, is not even that binding... What is left? What am I grasping at?

My fingers, clutching tightly, hanging from ropes that are turning to dust.

To be continued...

don't worry, no one is looking....

2009-05-19T20:29:00.000-07:00

I like to keep a low profile. I feel that becomes more true in my life everyday.

I smell like cigarettes... and I don't really mind.

Pachacuti

2009-05-19T08:43:00.000-07:00

Incan prophecy predicted the previous 500 years. An age, driven by "Western" ideals, brought materialism and imbalance to the earth. Caretakers of the soil were pushed aside, murdered, or forced to assimilate. Few fortunate ones found refuge with the Apus*, or sailed into the great lake of creation**.

Sometimes - less frequently now because I feel silly - I say I'm as old as the resistance, when asked my age. Going on 517 years now, I feel deeply connected to my ancestors, their struggles, and how those battles mirror my own, in these contemporary times. Ultimately, we are one.

I'm feeling more and more connected to my ancestry than to whatever manufactured identity I've been swallowing for the past 20 years of my life. I am a child of the sun, not the product of a melting pot. I am watching the sky more, following stars and migratory birds; instead of television (unless it's on the internet).

The eagle of the north is flying south... as the condor of the south heads north. When they meet, it is believed, that we will enter a new era... the return of the children of the Sun. This new age is supposed to mark the fall of "Western" civilization, restoring order and balance to our planet, Pachamama.

I am a child of the Sun, preparing for a pilgrimage... back to the mountains that gave birth to me.

*Apus, in Quechuan culture, are mountain gods. The spirits that protect the people of the highlands. They are considered the most supreme natural spirit.

**Lake Titicaca, is the place where the spirits of the dead return to their origin.

It is the largest lake in South America, the highest navigable lake in the world, and is one of 3 energy centers in the Andean world. It is also considered to be the birthplace of the Incas. According to legend, the Sun sent it's kids to the lake to create a home for us here on earth. From the depths of Lake Titicaca emerged the children of the Sun.

child of the sun, conseil 01

2009-05-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

Reçoit l'Amour de tes enfants qui veulent retrouver ton sein
Qui viennent se connecter ensemble pour retrouver le grand Un
Qui ont coscience que nous sommes tout, et qu'à la fois nous ne sommes rien, Qu'on te doit tout chère maman, déja mère de nos anciens, Pardonne le monde et son égo, bien trop ingrat pour voir le bien, Louons ta gloire et ta splendeur pour préparer le Jour prochain, Tu es la reine, la mère chérie, martyrisée par nos engins
Aux vibrations bien trop pures pour nos âmes de demis-humains

Reçoit l'Amour de tes enfants qui ont coscience et intuition
Qui malgré les interférences n'ont pas oubliés la mission
Chevalier dans la brume, qui entend sonner le glas
Levant un sabre de feu devant un paradis de glace
Pardonne nous la division, diablo a bien fait son travail
On a retrouvé ta chaleur sous leur béton et leur gravas
Siècle charnier, c'est le changement qui vient frapper à notre porte
Accueillons-le le coeur léger pour passer à une autre époque

Keny Arkana - Pachamama

...wake up!

2009-05-17T21:20:00.000-07:00

One Saturday afternoon not too long ago, I received a phone call. At the time I was taking a stroll around the neighborhood; sunshine bouncing off the Victorian homes that line most West Philadelphia streets. I answer to the broken voice of my dad, he's frantic and in tears. In the few seconds that it took him to greet me, my mind was already racing through any number of horrible scenarios that could have occurred or were transpiring at that very moment.

His expressions muffled by stress and defeat, he calls to ask me for some money. Any amount will do at this point. They don't have enough to eat and something had broken in their car and needed fixing.

I could not help but feel humbled, sad, and upset at myself. Here I am complaining that I don't have enough money - meanwhile shoveling away thousands of dollars in savings, having a good job that pays me relatively well, and side projects that provide me with some extra income. While I'm contemplating a new pair of kicks, my parents are starving.

I'm doing all I can, I think... 8,000 miles is just so far away.

I can't help but think about civilization and what it's evolved into. A cacophony of disparity, an unjust world where one needs to sell their body, in order to nourish it. Where we break our backs for decades, just to get by, and maybe save a little. Only to have it all stripped by some arbitrary speculations on future returns of imaginary potential capital. A stock market guided by the decisions of a few affluent strangers.

When I think about trickle down economics, I imagine my parents, kneeling beneath a spout, mouth open, hoping that water will drip. Waiting for some moisture to touch their tongues, so that they may live another day.

I cry myself to sleep every night.

resistencia, consejo 03

2009-05-17T21:19:00.000-07:00

We are free, truly free, when we don't need to rent our arms to anybody in order to be able to lift a piece of bread to our mouths.

-Ricardo Flores Magon

next steps? what are those?

2009-05-17T06:56:00.000-07:00

The other day a friend told me I needed to go to the ocean...
to get grounded.

At that moment, all I could think about was Lima... overlooking the Pacific.The smell of the ocean air mixed with car exhaust, Inka Cola, and many other pollutants I'm sure. That scent takes me back to my childhood, when the block I lived on was my entire universe. On weekends, or sometimes after school, my parents would close the shop early, pack a few snacks, and we'd head to the beach. Those would be the longest 15 minutes of my life.

I find myself in that same place now... school is over, the work week is ending. Should I pack a few snacks and head for the sea? I guess that's a little more complicated than it used to be. There are loose ends to tie up, friends and chosen family to say goodbye to, logistical nightmares to figure out.

When I get there, how will it be? will I finally feel satiated? or will I only miss my adopted home?

I guess I'll never know until I try...

After all of this, I realized that my friend probably meant I should go down the Jersey shore or something. LOL

I always felt like "forgotten" was a good word to describe me...

2009-05-14T11:03:00.000-07:00

It's been a little over a year since I last posted in this blog. Comments have gone unanswered; my room, unattended to, my life, forgotten. As is usually the case with me, I start something then forget about it... leave it to grow weeds, until vines weave themselves up my body to the neck.

I'm not sure what has motivated me to visit you old friend... but my guesses are insanity, nostalgia, and a need for introspection and answers.

I will speak more at length about this in subsequent entries, but for now, know that ever since I came back from my trip home... I've wanted nothing more than to return.

Things that I miss:
-ocean breezes
-the constant stream of car horns
-eating grenadines every morning
-inka cola popsicles
-the incredibly smooth concrete of all lima sidewalks
-real Peruvian food
-drives down the coast
-mud baths in bright green water
-feeling chill (the particular type of chill of living by the beach)
-lucuma
-energy places
-the white paint at the base of all the trees
-my parents
-waking up in the morning

resistencia, consejo 02

2008-04-14T16:02:00.000-07:00

"What sets worlds in motion is the interplay of differences, their attractions and repulsions. Life is plurality, death is uniformity.

By suppressing differences and peculiarities, by eliminating different civilizations and cultures, progress weakens life and favors death. The ideal of a single civilization for everyone, implicit in the cult of progress and technique, impoverishes and mutilates us.

Every view of the world that becomes extinct, every culture that disappears, diminishes a possibility of life"

-Octavio Paz, The Labyrinth of Solitude

how I once hated the ocean and other tragedies.

2008-04-09T16:01:00.000-07:00

It had been over a decade before I visited Peru since we first left. I was 23 and I didn't want to go. I had vacationed extensively in the US and Europe before visiting the banks of the Rio Rimac*. Intentionally deaf to the stories of the "Talking River**."

That's how deep self-hate runs in our society. Throughout middle school and high school, whenever my grades slipped, my parents took proper action to correct the situation. "You better start improving in school... you don't want us to send you back to Peru, do you?" I knew exactly what that meant. It meant going back to a war-torn nation, citywide curfews, incessant blackouts, water rations, ubiquitous corruption, hyperinflation, militarized police, a plethora of carbombs, and endless poverty.

By this time we were getting accustomed to the luxuries of the US and I was well on my way to full assimilation. The thought of Peru sent waves of fear through me. And I carried that hatred for my birthplace into adulthood. The war had been over for almost a decade, standards of living had risen - relatively. The situation in Peru was improved, but I continued to think of it as the place I had left, as the terrorist state that still exists in US/European media. My perception had been completely warped by the parasitic culture of fear that plagues western civilization.

Because I hated my homeland, I hated myself. Everyone else hated me too. To the rest of the world, I'm a narco-trafficker, a terrorist, a delinquent escaping the despair of the "Third World" reality. When I traveled to Europe, the process to acquire a visa to enter any European state was annoyingly tedious. I had to present: current bank statements, proof of employment and recent pay stubs, proof of home ownership, proof of definite lodging reservations or a notarized letter from everyone I was staying with. If I failed to come up with any of these, I would be denied entry. Every customs encounter included intrusive interrogations and having my life, as well as all my belongings, picked apart. Only because I carried a Peruvian passport.

Internalized racism and xenophobia spread through my bloodstream, infecting my body and mind. However, once I set foot on the runway of Lima's Jorge Chavez International Airport; the scent of the sea surrounding me, caressing me gently, I knew that my long lost love had been rekindled. Any artificial notions I had picked up during my absence disappeared. The sparks continue to fly, lighting up the night sky over the Pacific.

*The Rimac River runs through the center of Lima, Peru. It originates in the Andes, emptying into the Pacific Ocean.
**"Talking River" or "Rio Hablador" is the nickname for the Rimac River. Rimac is Quechuan for talking or storyteller.

migration, consejo 02

2008-04-01T04:37:00.000-07:00

“The division of labor among nations is that some specialize in winning and others in losing. Our part of the world, known today as Latin America, was precocious. It has specialized in losing ever since those remote times when renaissance Europeans ventured across the ocean and buried their teeth in the throats of the Indian civilizations.

...Our defeat was always implicit in the victory of others; our wealth has always generated our poverty by nourishing the prosperity of others.”

-Eduardo Galeano, Open Veins of Latin America

This is why we migrate north.

"La division internacional del trabajo consiste en que unos paises se especializan en ganar y otros en perder. Nuestra comarca del mundo, que hoy llamamos America Latina, fue precoz: se especializo en perder desde los remotos tiempos en que los Europeos del Renacimiento se abalanzaron a travez del mar y le hundieron los dientes en la garganta.

...Nuestra derrota estuvo siempre implicita en la victoria ajena; nuestra riqueza ha generado siempre nuestra pobreza para alimentar la prosperidad de otros."

-Eduardo Galeano, Las Venas Abiertas de America Latina

Es por eso que imigramos al norte.

and on the seventh day, god created "America."

2008-03-31T17:17:00.000-07:00

In a room filled with approximately 40 people. We began by reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. Then, with our hands still over our hearts, we said another prayer. Only in this instance; verbally denounced any connection to my homeland, and declared that I would accept the norms, culture, and values of the US. I also pledged to fight wars, if need be, in defense of that holy trinity.

When our vows were complete, we listened to a message from our new commander in chief, and watched a music video for a song entitled: "Proud to be an American."

That indoctrinating afternoon was the culmination of 15 years* of struggle. 15 years of being branded "ineligible to work in the USA," 15 years of exuberant fees (My family spent over $20k on our citinzenship)and medical examinations, 15 years of living in fear.

Fear of being caught at work as illegal, with fake documents. Fear of being stopped by police on the road. What might seem like a minor traffic violation could be enough to get you deported. What if the party I was attending got busted? I've been skateboarding since I was 13, every time I went skating I put my situation, and that of my family's in jeapordy. I did it anyways. Anything, insignificant as it may seem, carried astronomical consequences. Confining us to a small cell, where we live in a fetal position.

It's crazy, the xenophobia that exists in the US. As ICE** raids intensify, as Minutemen*** chapters crop up in every corner of the country, the polarizations caused by this issue are overflowing. Remember Proposition 187? which passed by a huge majority in the early 90's, then overturned by a federal court. This California ballot initiative was designed to deny illegal immigrants access to social services, health care/hospital treatment, and public education. These issues consume our lives and touch every aspect of it. It's never ending. Unfortunately, once the presidential elections pass, everyone will forget about us. The plight of the immigrant will become yesterday's news.

In high school, I envied every kid, who at age 16, got their license and received a brand new car. And along with that, unlimited freedom. A driver's license was one of many things I could not acquire because of my immigrant status. When it came time to apply to colleges, I was afraid my applications would not be accepted. Who would understand the intricities of "Citizenship Pending," as a response to "Are you a US Citizen?" Would they come after me, now that they have all my information? did I walk into a trap?

My mom always told me that living in the US is anologous to living inside a gold plated prison.

I must say that I concur.

*Typically, you have to be a good, upstanding resident of the US for 7 years, before qualifying for permanent residency. Once you acquire this permanent residency (or green card), you must be a good, upstanding permanent resident for 5 years before you can apply for citizenship. After the application for citizenship has been completed, you have to wait approximately 2 years to receive eligibility for an appointment. Any minor errors, a mispelling, a smudge, whatever, will void your application. You have to reapply, and this will set you back another 1-2 years. Once you're eligible for an appointment, you go through a process that takes up to 6 months of being fingerprinted, getting interviewed, and taking an exam on US History. And then FINALLY, you become a US citizen. Each step is very tedius and costs a small fortune.

**ICE stands for Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Formerly Immigration and Naturalization Services. This new moniker was established in 2003 as part of the newly formed Department of Homeland Security. Talk about intimidation!!!

***The Minutemen Project is a group of private individuals that monitor the US-Mexico border. There have been many reported incidents where these individuals have shot and killed people who were observed crossing the border. No legal action has been taken against them by any law enforcement or US government agency. It is positively institutionally supported. Chapters have cropped up in many US states and major US cities, with the express purpose of harrassing and intimidating illegal immigrants, or those who are perceived as such.

migration, consejo 01

2008-03-29T18:15:00.000-07:00

"Leaving is no problem; in fact, it's a drug. It's the staying gone that will kill you. This is the handed-down wisdom of the immigrant. You hear it from people who wander home, after a decade away. You hear about the euphoria that passes quickly; the new things lose their newness and, soon after, their capacity to amuse you. Language is bewildering. You tire of exploring.

Then the list of things you miss multiplies beyond all reason, nostalgia clouding everything: in your memory, your country is clean and uncorrupt, the streets are safe, the people universally warm, and the food consistently delicious. The sacred details of your former life appear and reappear in strange iterations, in a hundred waking dreams.

Your pockets fill with money, but your heart feels sick and empty."

-Daniel Alarcon, War by Candlelight

trapped inside time and space

2008-03-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

Last year my parents moved back to Lima. Though I was really sad about this, I was also happy for them. I definitely encouraged them and wished them well on their new journey. Back to the shores that gave birth to them.

My main source of sadness was not that I wouldn't be close to them anymore, thanks to the wonders of technology I talk to them everyday, but that they went back home because they could no longer afford to live in the US.

We came here with nothing. We had sold all our possessions, we lived out of our suitcases for almost 2 years before settling in DC. My mom and dad each worked multiple jobs and after school, we would go to work with them too. We were always a unit. And after many evolutions, dozens of odd jobs, their home on the verge of foreclosure, and 2 decades older, my parents arrived back home in Lima with their pockets nearly empty. Not exactly the "American Dream" we expected when we first embarked on our big trip to the US almost 20 years ago. (With 2 week tourist visas)

Everyone in Peru believes this fallacy.
The myth of the "American Dream."

And it's that very myth that kills you, that opresses you, that maintains your metaphoric homelessness. You're never really here nor there, held in suspended animation. Some gaseous state in between your homeland and your adopted home. And the funny thing is that you're not welcome in either place. To Peruvians, you're the family that left. You somehow managed to escape the misery of home, and left for greener pastures. Stuffing your pockets with the dollars that grow on every tree. In the US, you're never really accepted. You're the "Mexican" family on the block (because everything south of the US is Mexico apparently). You have the funny accent, and you're here to steal jobs and all social services from hard working "Americans*."

Both of which are untrue, because most Latino immigrants work in fast food kitchens, are enslaved by agribusiness, scrub toilets in rich homes and office buildings, or any combination of the 3. Jobs which are in abundance and not many white people will take. Furthermore, because the majority of immigrants are undocumented, we are ineligible for social services. And we still pay taxes.

There is also the emptiness of living in the US. Devoid of culture; isolated, without any family around, and the difficulty of finding things that remind us of home. Growing up in Peru, most of our family, extended or other, lived within 5 blocks of our house. There was always some celebration! The houses, colorful, full of music and joy. Pollo a la brasa always on the grill, salsa criolla joined by laughter and us kids, running around playing tag or hide and seek. Ampay me salvo!!!

I plan to return home, reunite with my parents, and experience all I was stripped of by US foreign policy, WTO/IMF/World Bank economic guidelines, puppet governments, and civil war.

The question that lingers is if I'll finally feel at home. I think about this daily. Where do I belong? is it here? where I spent my adolescence and adult life? or my place of birth, where I spent my childhood lighting candles, running as fast as I could from one end of my block to the other, and complained about eating cau cau**?

I'll probably never know until it happens.

*I use "American" in quotations because I believe using the terms "America" and "American" is imperialistic and further perpetuates the colonization of Latin America. You can read all about it here:
http://colours.mahost.org/articles/martinez2.html

** Cau cau is a Peruvian dish made with beef tripe.

resistencia, consejo 01

2008-03-27T05:30:00.000-07:00

"en este mundo actual, de capitalismo, trata de hacernos esclavos! trata de vendernos una resignacion, trata de vendernos una vida comoda y de mierda... y a todo ello yo digo no! y a todo ello yo lo resisto en verdad!"

and for those who can't speak spanish:

this present world, of capitalism, attempts to enslave us! it sells us a resignation, it sells a life without meaning and full of comforts... and to all that i say no! and it's all of that that I truly resist!

thinkaboutit

feeling seasick...

2008-03-27T04:41:00.000-07:00

I decided once, I was probably 11 or 12, that I would gage my quality of life by my proximity to the ocean. Having spent my entire childhood next to the Pacific, the ability to go to the beach is as much a part of my culture as Ceviche*.

After moving to the US, I realized that life was not that simple. I spent most of my new life in Washington DC, which to me, is landlocked. Yes there is a river, but the Potomac is not the Pacifc.

Going to the beach became a total ordeal, some sort of luxury, and much like everything else in US culture, an event that had to be premeditated. Requiring precise calculation. Parents had to check how much vacation time they had, and fit their time off with certain planetary alignments like memorial day... or labor day. Then you have to make hotel reservations, or find some rental property. There is no time for improvisation; you have to save up money for the entire year to ensure that you can afford lodging, food, souvenirs and other miscellaneous expenses. Once it was all planned, we packed up our life in our minivan and drove the 3-4 hours to the Delaware shore. I wouldn't see my bedroom for a week.

It's the same with everything else here.
I've realized that in the US, in order to partake in any activity, the right gear, and the correct formula is required. Cyclists make sure they have all the right spandex, a $3,000 bike, and a rack so they can drive somewhere to ride their bike. If you wanna go hiking, you'd better hope you live near an REI, because you'll need everything made by Marmot or Northface to survive in the woods. And you of course have to plan these around your work schedule and long weekends.

When I was little, I learned to play soccer with a ball made out of newspaper and tape. Goalposts were either drawn with chalk or marked by rocks. I never owned cleats until I was 11 and joined a local soccer league in Northern Virginia. This also required specific shinguards, shorts, socks, and a standard issue shirt. The beauties of life, culture, the world, have been commidified. They've become things that you must acquire, with money. Life is not for the poor and deprived.

My life isn't any better now... I currently live in Philadelphia, and the nearest beach is over 60 miles away.

*Ceviche is a traditional dish from the coastal region of Peru.