Books Roundup 2018

This year I have torn through the books (in paper, not digital, I just can't with the e-readers). Reading brought relief when grieving the loss of my pregnancy with Baby AB, relaxation while on the beach in Hawaii, and welcome entertainment while in Peci where there is no internet or even a good phone signal. Here is the list of the 16 books I've read so far in 2018:

The Lost City of the Monkey God by Douglas Preston

This was my first book of the year. Fresh with grief and having taken a physical pummeling from the loss of the baby and resulting hormonal swings, I desperately needed a book I could lose myself in. My mom gifted me this book at just the right time. A mix of anthropology, adventure travel, and radar technology, this true story tells of a lost city being found in the Honduran jungle. Incredible to think that entire empires lie buried under vegetation. The title annoyed me (smacks of white male expedition marketed with exotic language to the people back home - which is exactly what it is on some level) but still I really enjoyed the story.

Song of the Lion and Spider Woman's Daughter by Anne Hillerman

I grew up reading Tony Hillerman's mysteries and remember staying up late, flipping the pages until my hands ached, unable to pull myself away from the stories of Leaphorn and Chee and the Dinè (Navajo) way of life. As a New Mexican, I appreciated the sense of place and often took Hillerman books with me while living abroad to soothe my saudades (or perhaps just make them worse). When I found out that Tony's daughter Anne had continued the mystery series, emphasizing the perspective of Bernadette Manuelito, a female detective, I was excited to return to the characters and scenery I so enjoyed years ago. Unfortunately it was a letdown. Perhaps I'd excessively built up my expectations, or maybe it was the difference of reading as an adult vs. a teenager, but I found the storylines to be predictable and lacking that urgent page-turning quality I remembered in the original series. I read these on while on our honeymoon in Hawaii in February, and they were definitely good enough for a beach read or to pass the time on the plane. I don't plan on reading more in the series, though... 

Love Africa by Jeffrey Gettleman

This one hit me hard. Part travel narrative, part political essay, part memoir. Intelligent yet humble writing, and deep honesty from the author about his past mistakes. I loved the stories, felt compassion for the characters, and appreciated the complexity of the situations in which the author found himself. It also stirred up nostalgia for East Africa, and a desire to keep traveling and keep writing no matter what. Fantastic book, I can't wait to read more from him.

Shark Drunk by Morten Stroksnes

The story of trying to catch a Greenland shark, a poorly-understood cold water giant that I'd first heard about while watching the tv show River Monsters and found fascinating. I was expecting a mix of science, adventure, and Nordic culture - and I suppose it was all of those things - but somehow the book dragged on and felt bland. Maybe it was because of translating nuances (it was originally written in Norwegian), or maybe it was just an accurate portrayal of the slow pace of time while fishing. Whatever the reason, I found it very difficult to get through and nearly abandoned ship several times before finally, stubbornly, turning the last page.

The Monk of Mokha by Dave Eggers

This was perhaps my favorite of all 2018. A true story, set in San Francisco and Yemen, about a young man who successfully revitalizes the Yemeni coffee industry despite widespread skepticism, production challenges, and war. A story of entrepreneurship, agriculture, development, politics, immigration, cultural ambassadorship, and global commerce. And, of course, coffee. I learned so much and can't wait to try a cup of specialty Yemeni brew one day here in San Francisco, even though it is hard to find and costs $16/cup, and as a pedestrian coffee drinker I am unlikely to appreciate its subtle aroma and palate qualities. Still, because of this story, I want to try it.

The Sober Diaries by Claire Pooley

I LOVED THIS BOOK. My interest in sober living started about three years ago as I contemplated the role alcohol played in my previous marriage/life chapter. My ex was a happy and frequent drinker, as was his family, as were our friends. Our respective cultures reinforced this norm, as did our lifestyle (expat development workers and frequent travelers tend to be a heavy-drinking lot). Without really noticing, I'd become a habitual drinker. Bored? How about a drink. In an airport? Obviously time for a beer. Celebrating? Drink. Bad news? Drink. School sucks? Have a glass of wine with that essay. Work challenging? Drink to decompress. Gallery slow? How about some bubbly to pass the time. Weekend? Day drink. Weekday? Vino with dinner. Anything, anything at all? Drink. Of course we were both very responsible people, kept up our obligations, never had "consequences," and in his eyes never had a problem...but for me there was a quiet and increasingly desperate feeling that something was very, very wrong. I started to cut back on my own consumption, and then after our divorce I had the opportunity to further examine my own habits and behavior and make some big changes. I still have an occasional drink, but my relationship with alcohol has changed completely. It is now the exception rather than the rule. I don't get drinks on auto pilot, and I certainly don't buy into the idea that you need alcohol to have fun, or cope, or be accepted. My current husband has a very similar approach, and our life is sober most of the time, often for long stretches. THIS BOOK WAS SO AFFIRMING OF THESE DECISIONS. Claire Pooley is a hilarious writer, and hearing how she became sober and then how she beat breast cancer while maintaining sobriety was inspiring. I highly recommend it, especially if you are reexamining your relationship with alcohol.

Alburquerque by Rudolfo Anaya

It's always fun to read a book set in your hometown, and this was no exception. Magical, mystical, poignant, and engaging. I hadn't read Rudolfo Anaya since high school, and it was like visiting an old friend. The storyline was compelling, felt ancient and modern all at once, and I loved the characters. Anyone with a connection to New Mexico will particularly enjoy reading this book.

Dear Sugar by Cheryl Strayed

What a punch to the gut and embrace to the heart. I bawled and cringed and laughed while reading Cheryl Strayed's no-bullshit advice to others, punctuated with devastating and uplifting stories from her own life. My friend Heather had recommended this to me shortly after we lost Baby AB, and I was happy to find this in my mom's bookshelf. Definitely helped me find perspective and strength.

Deep South by Paul Theroux

This road trip narrative tells devastating and hopeful stories from America's southern states. I appreciated the author's attempt to present many perspectives, cultures, and ways of life. From gun shows to shacks in the Delta, economic ghost towns to sites where black youth were murdered, churches to restaurants, and the long stretches of highway in-between, the reader comes away with a real sense of the history and struggle and complexity of the region. I found the more academic interludes a little hard to get through, but the actual stories from the road were captivating. Highly recommend.

Robicheaux by James Lee Burke

I enjoyed reading all of the previous Dave Robicheaux detective novels, and this was no exception. Gritty, well-written, and full of Louisiana culture. The storyline was unpredictable and made for a real page-turner, although not ideal for bedtime reading because of the often gory situations.  

Red Sparrow and Palace of Treason by Jason Matthews

More not-ideal-before-bedtime reading, but oh so good. These spy novels are intelligent, complex, and compelling tales of politics, love, loyalty and betrayal. The main characters are very well developed. I enjoyed all the Russian language and culture, and the recipes at the end of each chapter are an unexpected bonus. I can't wait to read the final book from this trilogy.

The Pregnancy Instruction Manual by Sarah Jordan and David Ufberg

The Baby Owner's Manual by Louis Borgenicht and Joe Borgenicht

Now that I'm pregnant again (baby Anastasia is due in February 2019) my friend Marjana gave me these books that she'd enjoyed reading before her first child was born a several years ago. They are practical, easy to understand, and comprehensive. That said, both books are oriented to heterosexual couples and pander to antiquated gender roles. Mom gets tips for how to dress during pregnancy (avoid stripes that make you look larger that you already are!) and Dad is reminded to switch off Sports Center and make himself useful around the house. I get that it's an attempt at humor, but ugh. Otherwise useful books, and I'm sure I'll be consulting them in the future.

Ina May's Guide to Childbirth by Ina May Gaskin

This book is my Bible right now. I want to have an unmedicated vaginal birth in a hospital, so I'm trying to read everything I can about how birth is a natural and empowering process that women are entitled to experience free from a culture of fear. I love reading all of the birth stories from the Farm. These women and midwives are incredibly inspiring. I'll likely reread this about 10 times between now and February!

That's it! I'm proud to have read so much and look forward to squeezing in maybe one or two more books before the end of the year. What have you read lately that you really enjoyed? 

Catching Feelings

I just watched the South African film "Catching Feelings" by director-actor Kagiso Lediga. It came up as a suggestion on Netflix and I jumped on it. The cinematography left me with massive nostalgia for Johannesburg: the jacaranda-lined streets, the gray skies, the unique vibe, and oh that accent...I so miss that accent! But it wasn't all purple blossoms and good times: there was also realistic portrayal of the challenges in urban South Africa: drunk driving, bribing police, fenced and guarded homes and accompanying race-based fear, immediate discrimination of the main character by both whites and blacks when he loses his shoes and appears poor and possibly homeless, shantytown tourism by wealthy white foreigners, sexism, cell phone addiction, and in general lots of moral ambiguity.

I found it interesting that there was a distinction between Cape Town's racial situation (the only black people in a hip, upscale restaurant are the main character's party and the waiters; the student body at the university is majority white) and that of Joburg (portrayal of many middle and upper-middle class blacks with prominent positions in companies and academic institutions; nice restaurants and social events with racially diverse patrons; mixed race couples and friends groups; university student body majority black).

Although the movie is about an unhappy marriage and the moral boundaries of the main couple and their friends, the subtext is all about identity and racial politics (to paraphrase the main character, "I'm South African, everything is about race"). I appreciated that the film's perspective was not Eurocentric, and as an American I was interested in the subtle and not-so-subtle differences between our racial issues and those in South Africa. While I really enjoyed the film overall, I found the characters to be over-acted and many of the scenarios unbelievable, in particular the white "old man" author and how readily he is able to influence the main character and his wife, and how he is invited into their home. White privilege was brought up in the film but not explored very much, and I found it of note that colorism was not discussed at all (although it was most definitely present). Also how about those double standards regarding cheating for the main character and his wife?? And actually for the men in general? Ugh.

The role of alcohol and drugs in the film also struck me. The movie is basically about moral choices and behavioral gray area, and in 100% of the moments where characters make a critical move, they are massively drunk or high. It was frustrating to watch seemingly intelligent, educated, cultured, and independent characters lose all their willpower and convictions anytime alcohol is offered. Again, like the white privilege issue, there was a moment where the partying was scrutinized (Is this a problem? Do I need to be worried about you?), but instead of further exploring it, the questioner just jumped on the bandwagon and went bottoms up herself.

I guess I have a lot of critical points, and the movie definitely left me with a lot of food for thought. Overall, I definitely recommend it and am happy I took a chance on a random Netflix suggestion.

A final note is that the soundtrack to Catching Feelings was excellent. Tracks are listed below:

Chimanga – Dorothy Masuka
Let Me Live – Mpho Pholo & Moneoa Moshesh
Lenyora – Philip Tabane
Mama Liza – The Movers
Ngud (Ilala Vuka) – Kwesta featuring Casper Nyovest
Mahlalela (A.K.A Lazy Bones) by Letta Mbulu
Noma Themba – Letta Mbulu
Voice Inside – Lerato Moiloa
Joburg Girl – MXO
Ngubani Gama Lakho – MXO
Jungle Fever – MXO
Bring Back the Love – MXO
iZolo – MXO
Soweto Disco – The Movers
Why are you here – Ishmael Osekre
UNH! – Philip Tabane
Vidala Para Mi Sombra – Juana Pires Rafael and Ariel Zamonsky
100KMACASETTE by Okmalumkoolkat
Monsieur Bon Bon – Ebenhaezer Dibakwane
Mpahlenkulu – Mabiza and Zah
I Need You – David Kibuuka

Valencia County Observations

I'm in New Mexico for a week, enjoying some time observing life in the place where I grew up. Here are some of the moments that have stood out to me about Los Lunas and Valencia County, the place where my dad calls home:

This is a rural area about an hour south of Albuquerque. The scenery is serene and classically New Mexican: wide open fields of hay and corn, grandiose cottonwoods whose leaves have started turning yellow with the changing seasons, chile roasting on street corners, and dusty mountains in the distance. In the middle of this all runs the Rio Grande, currently a small trickle because so much water has been diverted into the irrigation ditches that criss-cross the landscape. The people here are connected to the land, to family, to tradition.

Driving around I am struck by the billboards along Highway 47, which fall into a few main themes:

- DWI (You can't afford it!)
- Anti Domestic Abuse (Elders and children are our heritage, our future!)
- Pro-Life propaganda (My heart beats 18 days after conception!)
- Personal Injury Lawyers
- Military Recruitment
- Indian Casinos

Tells you a lot about the problems people face and the values they hold...

As I write this I am sitting in a café in Los Lunas (the main town around these parts) that is part coffee shop, part Christian bookstore / religious supplies, and part guitar store. It is the closest wifi to my dad's house (he has no internet and my cell signal is practically nonexistent) so if I want to check email or blog or do some work, I come here.

Culture shock is an understatement. Not only is there all the religious paraphernalia and "church people" vibe from the staff and patrons, there is the political aspect. The people here like their guns. Next to the coffee creamer is an advertisement for Concealed Carry Training. I just overheard someone talk about how Obama was the best thing ever for gun and ammo sales, that they skyrocketed because of him. Another table over there is a guy loudly voicing his support for Trump and calling Bernie Sanders supporters "sheeple" for now supporting Hilary. He's all about the government conspiracies, too, talking about 9/11 being an inside job and how he just bought a $2,000 end-of-the-world survival kit because shit is going to go down.

The scary part to me is that everyone who walks in and overhears these conversations in progress jumps in and is in agreement! Guns and Trump and anti-Obama and God are the anthem over here! It makes me reconsider where I am spending my $7 for coffee and a breakfast burrito, but then again there's no guarantee that the owner of Starbucks on the far side of town (the other wifi option) is not cut from the same cloth, even though the corporate aspect of the place might suggest neutrality.

I don't identify with Valencia County as being home (I lived with my mom in Albuquerque from ages 5 to 15), but my dad has always been here so it is familiar and full of memories. Since my mom moved to California over a decade ago, my dad's house is now my base when I come to New Mexico. While I appreciate the hospitality he and his wife extend to me, I am struck by how anthropological these visits feel. I am definitely an outsider, observing "the other," gaining heightened perception of my own views and values as a result of the contrasts.

Racist America

Last week I was having lunch in Ljubljana with my Slovene friend Marjana and two American girlfriends. Marjana asked if we have a problem with racism in our country, and we replied that sadly yes, it is most definitely the case. 

We told her about all the police killings of African Americans for no reason at all, and the institutionalized racism people of color face every day, and the prevalence of white privilege. She had the impression of the US being this super tolerant land where everyone is free, where the American dream reigns supreme, where hard work can make everything come true.

Not the case, we told her. It's the myth, but not the reality.

Every day we see more and more sickening examples of police brutality and systemic abuses against people of color. I know this violence and discrimination has been going on since our country was founded, and that the only thing different is that now there are cameras. But truly, it must stop. It has to change. We must stand up and demand accountability and justice.

It is beyond fucked up. 

Words fail.

Solstice Feast with Friends

Last week Rico and I were invited to a Midsummer's celebration at the house of new friends of ours here in Point Richmond. Lars is a labyrinth maker (what a cool profession, right?) and community organizer who I've been working closely with on Point to Point Richmond. Lars has Swedish heritage, and together with his fiancee Lissette, prepared an amazing solstice meal for us, complete with traditional foods (seed bread, smoked trout, pickles, salmon), seasonal decorations, and floral crowns. It was a great night, and it's exciting to have friends our age here in town!

Portugal Street Art

Along with worn surfaces and old doors, street art is my favorite thing to photograph while traveling. You can understand a bit more about the people and issues of a particular place based on these images. Here are some of the street art standouts from Portugal, with major props to the Fado-themed murals lining the alleyways and hidden staircases of Lisbon's Mouraria neighborhood:

Origins and Routes is here!

Alexandra Amaro Lifestyle Photoshoot

Jewelry: Alexandra Amaro
Styling: Alexandra Amaro
Photography: Alexandra Amaro
Models: Bárbara Albuquerque and Inês Carijó
Hair and Makeup: Bárbara Albuquerque and Inês Carijó
shot on location in Point Richmond

Marrying the Designer with the Traveler

Carved coral earrings from the Italian side of my family, remixed with antique trade bead tubes found at Mozambique Island. 14k and 10k gold hardware.

I've been working hard over the past few days to update my Alexandra Amaro jewelry website. I am trying to bridge the gap between what I am making in art school for my senior thesis and the work that I make otherwise. Check out the progress here.

For a long time I've felt like I have two distinct jewelry styles: "designer Ali" and "worldly Ali".

The first is clean, almost minimalist organic geometry. It's what happens when I sit down and sketch out a plan for a piece. "Designer Ali" is commercial, appealing to a wide audience, easy to wear. It is also, in the words of many a professor and peer at CCA, "safe work." Safe work isn't necessarily bad, but it isn't innovative or especially outstanding.

My other style, "worldly Ali," has its roots in what I loved making in Mozambique: fusion work that brings together various antique, ethnic, travel-inspired elements in a high-touch presentation. I've refined that look, and I love it. But it's very different from "designer Ali."

I often think that if you put the two categories of work side by side, nobody would ever believe that the same artist made them. On a certain level, this has always bothered me. I've long wanted to reconcile these two parts of my creative self, to marry them and create a hybrid offspring. With each new piece I make for my senior project, I believe I am coming closer.

The big question I am asked these days is, "So what are you going to do once you graduate?"

Honestly, I don't know. I have lots of ideas, I can see several viable paths to follow, but I don't really know what I want in terms of a grand strategy.

I know a few things, though:

- I want to continue working in the style of my senior thesis work. "Origins and Routes" is the kind of work I've always dreamed of doing. I find it highly fulfilling, exciting, and motivating (even when it's frustrating). I love working with materials from distant places and times. I am obsessed with where things came from, who used to own them, what path they traveled to reach me. I like telling stories about identity and place through materials. This style of cultural re-mix work speaks to me in a major way, and I feel that I should keep doing it, even if it's not immediately obvious who would buy it or where I would sell it successfully.

- I don't enjoy making the same thing twice. Yes, this will improve once I get an assistant and don't have to do 100% of the grunt work (e.g. filing, sanding, polishing, cutting) associated with metalsmithing. However, it's a fact that I am a one-of-a-kind girl. That said, I know that being able to work in some sort of production model is helpful (necessary, even). I believe the solution is to work in series, but the details are still becoming clear.

- I want to make things that nobody else could make. Us metalsmiths are a pretty versatile lot. We have mad skills, and once we are trained we can work in essentially any style, making any kind of piece. I could make a Tiffany-style solitaire engagement ring just as readily as I could make a necklace out of found objects and melted plastic. So it comes down to a unique vision. I believe my Origins and Routes work is on the right path here, too. Yes, technically others could assemble or form these pieces, but nobody will ever have the same vision I do when it comes to the cultural mash-up.

- I don't want to grow to hate being a jeweler. I know it's a possibility, that burn-out is hugely common especially when acting as a one woman operation. But I really, really, really want to avoid it. I also don't want my hands to crap out on me. I have problems with tendonitis and fatigue and pain, but it's manageable as long as I don't abuse my body with long hours and horribly repetitive tasks.

Other than that, it's pretty much up in the air. I have faith that as graduation draws closer, answers will become more obvious. Until then, I will continue to prepare as much as possible for that elusive next step. Website updates, photo shoots, business plan brainstorming, gallery and boutique scouting, and everything else that seems of use no matter which path I decide to follow.

Census

Our US census forms arrived a few days ago and I found filling them out to be quite the interesting experience, not just because I love to do paperwork. Yes, the race/ethnicity* part of the survey could generate endless debate and offers a unique view into the (disfunctional) perspective our government and many citizens have about the topic...but it's not what fascinated me about the census. Rather, it's what the census didn't ask that got me.

Back in 2007 when I filled out the Mozambican census, in addition to the requisite name/age/race information, they wanted to know:

• Did we own a car, tractor or bicycle?
• Did we own any farm implements (e.g. hoe, shovel, trowel)?
• How many rooms were in our house?
• Did we own a TV or radio?
• Did we have a computer or internet access?
• Where was I born?
• What was my mother tongue and what language did we speak currently speak at home?
• What was my profession?
• What level of schooling had I completed?

They even sent a nice uniformed census worker over to the house to sit with me and fill out the form on my behalf (a necessity in a country where there are over 21 languages spoken and illiteracy rates are high).

Clearly the census in Mozambique has a much broader socio-developmental application as compared to here in the US, where it seems to be much more about a cut-and-dry tallying-up of the population.

I find it fascinating to think about the myriad reasons why the Mozambican-style census would never fly here in the US...

*The old race/ethnicity categorization is a challenge for many people, but notoriously for Brazilians who tend to be shoved into the "Latino/Hispanic" ethnicity despite not self-identifying as such, and have a terribly difficult time picking only one race to describe their generally mixed heritage. After some reflection, Rico chose the "Other" subcategory of "Latino/Hispanic" and wrote in Brazilian, then chose "White" for race, as his family is predominately Portuguese.

Callused Fingers, Lack of Sleep and an Undeniable Urge to Tell People to Take a Shower

Also known as my first week of art school.

The callused fingers and lack of sleep I was anticipating. Pretty much comes with the territory when you are a metals major and have 8am classes.

What *has* been a surprise is how freaking DIRTY some of my classmates look. The worst part? With a few exceptions, most of these kids appear to be going for this look deliberately. It's all part of the hipster façade, I suppose, but the stained California Raisins sweatshirt plus filthy neon 80's-style sneakers plus holey leggings plus a carefully tilted, grease-stained trucker hat atop a femullet* is just too much in my book.

Then again, my book is ancient in young-person terms and I am admittedly out of touch with many of the current fashion trends, bands, superfoods and technology.

So...enough about fashion or the lack thereof. Additional impressions from my first week at school:

- Tuition is insanely expensive, but I really feel I'm getting value for my money. Teachers seem excellent, class sizes are small (no more than 20 students in any of my classes), studios are well-equipped, there are tons of on-campus resources for students, and the level of performance expected from students is quite high.

- Speaking of performance, school is turning out to be much more work than I'd anticipated. For each hour I'm in a studio class, I spend one hour outside class working on homework or projects. This is completely normal. Thankfully I am good at time management, otherwise I think I'd be on the brink of an anxiety attack right now.

- Aside from wanting to give some of them a good scrubbing, most of my fellow students seem very nice. There is a good mix of ages (I'm not the oldest, thankfully), backgrounds, nationalities, and prior artistic experience. Everyone seems decently motivated to participte in class and excel at our assignments. There is no stigma associated with striving to do well, as can be the case in other academic environments. Nobody is labeled a nerd, and the overachievers simply win the admiration of the rest of the class when they turn in exquisitely made pieces.

- I've learned a lot in one week. I learned to solder (4 different ways!), learned to saw metal, learned to use a gigantic torch with an oxygen hose attached, learned how to put a rice paper skin on a wire structure, and learned how to do contour drawings.

- Even in art school, teachers can make or break a class. I was very apprehensive about taking Drawing I because I have no formal experience, but it's turned out to be one of my favorite classes. The teacher is excellent - she's funny, encouraging and inspiring. She sent my anxiety packing the first day, and I'm quite proud of what I've accomplished in class thus far.

- The downsides, other than the super expensive tuition: lots of expensive supplies to purchase for each class; tons of things to lug around every day (drawing easel, tool box, sketch books, etc.) and no locker access for freshmen from what I've understood; no real lounge on campus, although we are near tons of shops and restaurants; very few drinking fountains (I hate buying water) and cold classrooms. In all, no serious complaints, especially given all the positive things the school has to offer.

I'll check in again around midterms to see what, if anything, has changed about my impressions. The bottom line? I'm really happy I decided to go to art school and become a full-time jeweler.

* The femullet is a term coined in honor of this girl at school who has deliberately cut her hair short on the crown, but rocks a forehead full of curly bangs and a swath of long, greasy hair down her back. She obviously thinks this is a great look, because mullets don't just happen, especially to women. I am practicing restraint not to use my shop scissors to give her an unsolicited trim while we work on our wire sculptures.

More US Observations

And the list continues...

- Rico always jokes that he can spot people from the US in the airport - in particular men - because the travel uniform of choice always involves tennis shoes (running shoes/cross trainers is more accurate - I use one of the more incorrect regionalisms when it comes to talking about all-purpose exercise shoes). Now plenty of people travel wearing sport shoes, it's just that Americans many times wear their running shoes with an outfit that is nearly formal, like slacks and a button-down, collared shirt. I guess it's the clothes equivalent of the good old mullet: business in the front, party in the back. Except here it's business up top, comfort on the bottom. Seriously, I've never seen tennis shoes worn in so many different contexts. Sometimes it makes me cringe (prairie dress with 1980's Reeboks??), but there is an upside: I can wear my new Adidas whenever I feel like it and rest assured that there will be no questioning looks thrown my way.

- Why do we have so many ads for medicines on tv? Do other countries advertise health options like this??

- The California Accent. Yes, this pertains only to a portion of this great state's diverse population, but it's quite noticeable for someone from out of state (or country). The defining characteristic is that all statements, queries, prases, observations, etc. end with the voice going up in register. To me it sounds like everything is a question. I don't even know how to describe it in words. Maybe I should do a video blog to illustrate! Anyone know what I'm talking about here??

- New vocabulary: staycation, funemployment, ill (and illest), ending words with variations of -sheezy, -iggity, -izzle and other funny sounds.

- If we had a dollar for every time Rico and I are asked if we speak Spanish we'd be halfway through our mortgage payment by now. Poor Brazilians...I know this is a sore spot for many. Perhaps with the Rio Olympics more people will become aware that Latin America's largest country speaks Portuguese, not Spanish. Still, to be fair, many Brazilians are quite ignorant when it comes to their fellow Lusophone countries. For example, we were frequently asked by friends and family in Brazil if they speak French in Mozambique. Sigh...I guess we all could use a refresher in geography and languages of the world at some point.

- The Bay Area is the most incredible place ever for restaurants. You can find any kind of cuisine, any price point, any style imaginable. Want Nepalese food? Check. Raw food? No problem. Just in our 4-block neighborhood downtown we have the following restaurant options: Chinese, Thai, takeout pizza, Vegan, Mediterranean, Brazilian (yes! with feijoada completa on Saturdays!), Mexican, two delis, a high-end Continental restaurant in a hotel, and a Starbucks.

What more could we want?? :)

One Month

It's been a busy past few weeks here in Casa Cali. Most of my time and energy was focused on applying for art school. I spent countless hours preparing a portfolio of my jewelry (involved learning how to photograph my pieces in a way that does them justice), went through the humbling process of trying to do observational sketches (only to later find out they weren't necessary for the portfolio), and then presented everything to an evaluator at the California College of the Arts portfolio review day. The verdict left me very pleased: "solid jewelry work, high-touch, craft-making" was his feedback. We had a nice chat about my creative process, and my portfolio was officially accepted for admission.

That's just step one, though. I worked very hard to prepare an essay that captures why I am taking this leap to become a full-time jeweler. It took me a couple of all-nighters, but I am seriously happy with the final document. Since CCA does rolling admissions, I should know in about a month whether or not I've been accepted for the Spring 2010 semester. Fingers crossed!

Now that my school application is finished, I feel like a massive mental space has been freed up. The ideas are flowing, I am excited to get my business properly set up, and I literally have to carry around a notebook all the time to be able to capture all of my thoughts. It's exciting, but the size of my to-do list keeps me in line. ;)

Rico and I spent a few days in New Mexico last week, which was very nice. I'm still trying to get over the fact that it only takes us 2 hours to go visit my dad, and that we can go to Albuquerque more frequently than once every 1.5 years. Living closer sure changes the dynamic of trips to visit family and friends, that's for sure. I'd almost forgotten what it's like to just hang out and not have to squash every single thing into an 8-day trip.

So we've been in the US now for just over a month and I'm still processing through the transition, the occasional bouts of culture shock, the saudades for Mozambique and our lovely life in Maputo. It's just as bitter-sweet as when we said goodbye, which is strange considering all that we are excited about and that we have to look forward to here in our Casa Cali life.

My friend Jose said, after moving back to the Bay Area after 1 year in Mozambique, that it felt as if he were in a black hole the entire first month or two he was back. I definitely appreciate that. It's been quite the transition. Only now do I feel rested enough, adjusted enough...ready to do anything but errands and school applications and sleep. I want to be social again, see my friends that live in the Bay, meet some new people, go to a Pilates class, start dancing Nia again, go hiking, purchase jewelry supplies, set up my studio, print business cards, design my website, work in the garden, cook delicious fresh meals...

Before I sign off, a couple of generalized observations about coming back to the US:

- Americans tend to be very casual, both in appearance and in speech...from the grown-ass women who go to the DMV wearing pajama bottoms and slippers, to the guy in line behind me at the grocery store who told me all about his son being evicted as if it were no big deal to chat with strangers about his family's private life, the level of "comfort" definitely stands out.

- Milk is a completely acceptable beverage to accompany a meal. Any time of day, any cuisine.

- There are coupons for *everything*. I find it hard to believe that there are people out there content to pay full price when it is so easy, with just a few minutes of searching per day, to find discounts. You do have to be organized, though, to take advantage of the savings. Nothing worse than arriving at Home Depot only to find you forgot the MiracleGro coupon on the kitchen counter.

- Infomercials are still going strong. I'm tempted to buy the fresh-forever tupperware kit, and curious about the prices I'd be offered for my mismatched jewelry.

- This country is in the throes of a severe Blackberry and iPod addiction. Many times I am the only person on BART not talking or listening to music. Rico and I still haven't set up voicemail on our cell phones, and I'm amused by the number of people who think we're out of our minds because of it. I suppose nearly 5 years without voicemail has made me forget about it as a communication tool, although I've become an avid text-er in the meantime.

Now that I'm carrying around a notebook, hopefully I'll be able to record more of these cross-cultural musings more accurately. ;)

Things I Am Looking Forward to in the US

Perhaps the most common question I get these days is, "Are you happy about moving back to the US?"

It's a deceptively simple question. I feel like many people expect me to say 'no', or at least 'mais ou menos' and give some sort of politically or culturally inpsired response about how life outside the US is more inspired/less materialistic/more authentic/more spontaneous/more-or-less whatever. Even with Obama, there is still a lot of stigma associated with the US and the American lifestyle and frankly, I'm over it!

I am very happy to be going back to the US, and although there will certainly be reverse culture shock and the requisite ups and downs, I can't imagine a better next chapter to follow this Mozambican experience.

Here is a little rundown of things - superficial and not - that I'm looking forward to:

1. Reliable emergency response. If you call 911, someone will show up to help you within minutes.

2. Being anonymous, even if for a limited time.

3. Escaping the mulungo identity. Walking down the street, chatting with someone, talking about my life and profession without immediate assumptions being made because I am a White Foreigner.

4. Whole Foods, farmer's markets, specialty food shops.

5. Talented hairdressers.

6. Online shopping, especially Sephora, Overstock, Victoria's Secret and Nordstrom's.

7. CUSTOMER SERVICE.

8. Access to continuing education in any field imaginable.

9. Being able to shop for beads and jewelry supplies on demand.

10. Safe, reliable public transport.

11. Urban bike riding, hiking trails, public parks.

12. Wine tasting in Napa.

13. Cheap tickets on Southwest to visit family and friends. The idea that I can go back to New Mexico for a weekend is incredibly exciting.

14. Having my cousins come to stay with us - the cool aunt and uncle - for a couple weeks.

15. Decorating Casa Cali, even if it means finding a way to work with wood paneling.

16. Veterinary services that are up to par and available 24/7. I am still traumatized by Parceiro's death.

17. Bookstores!

18. Road trips through National Parks.

19. Weather cold enough to merit knee-high boots and overcoats.

20. Do-it-yourself culture.

21. Open discussions about politics, economics and religion.

22. New Mexican food - chile rellenos, enchiladas, sopaipillas, biscochitos.

23. Christmas in the winter, like it's meant to be. :)

24. Our first Christmas tree, complete with all the family ornaments that have been passed down to me over the years.

25. Discovering the endless possibilities of Craigslist.

26. Allowing myself to write more freely about my experiences in and opinions of Mozambique - I've met incredible people through my public blog, and truly enjoyed being a resource for life in Maputo/Moz, however I reached a point where I no longer felt comfortable writing candidly about certin subjects because of my readership. Once in the US, the distance makes it easier to reflect upon certain experiences, as well as perhaps the courage to put my opinions out there, even if they are not 100% "politically correct" or popular.

27. Taking art classes.

28. Starting a proper jewelry business, complete with a website with e-commerce.

29. Foods that I can't find or am unwilling to spend an arm and a leg on here: green chile, blueberries, figs, raspberries, different varieties of cheese, deli meats, toffee, packaged tortillas, multi-grain bread, roasted red peppers...the list is long!

30. Reconnecting with friends. Even with Skype and Facebook, there is something about physical distance that has made several - if not most - of my friendships back 'home' weaken. I look forward to nurturing them again.

31. Halloween.

32. Thanksgiving with family.

33. No more LAM (Mozambique's national airline, and currently the only option for domestic travel)

34. Speaking Spanish on a regular basis. I fear it's been somewhat compromised by my time in Mozambique.

35. Having more visitors. In my 4+ years here, I can tally my visitors on one hand: my mom, my Brazilian friend Heleno who was living in China, my childhood friend Hallie and her friend Cheryl...and that's it. I realize Moz is an expensive and complicated destination, but I also feel that a lot of people simply weren't interested in visiting or were concerned (about perceived health risks, lack of development, etc.) Already for our house in Casa Cali we have 4 visitors lined up!

36. Getting to know our neighbors and neighborhood. Becoming part of a community.

37. Feeling like I 'belong', even though I am aware this is an elusive concept for me. Still, there is something about returning to your home country that helps further define your identity, your sense of community, your sense of roots.

38. Being able to register and open a business in 1 week.

39. A justice system that works, contracts that can be enforced, infractions that are punished regardless of the person's influence or wealth. Yes, there is a flip side to this all in the lack of 'jeitinho' and spontaneity, but there are many, many benefits to rules and systems that are clear and enforced.

40. Nia classes.

41. Pilates studios.

42. Beaches that are not used as collective toilets or contaminated by sewage.

43. Being 20 minutes away from my mom's house.

44. Internet that is fast enough to download tv episodes and watch videos on You Tube uninterrupted.

45. Witnessing and participating in a culture of entrepreneurship, pride, hard work and optimism...even in the face of severe economic crisis and personal/financial setbacks.

46. Camping with my dad.

47. Meeting blog friends in 'real life'.

48. Driving on the left again, and finally learning how to properly f'ing parallel park!!

49. Dishwashers and clothes dryers.

50. Being proud to be American. It's been a long road through teenage cultural identity issues and nomadic wanderings in my 20's, but I've come full circle. I'm excited to be in the US without the feeling that I want to be someone or somewhere else. Yes, the urge to travel and experience life in far-flung places will remain - it's in my blood - but it is also incredibly nice to find peace in coming Home.

The Sound of Stories

Mozambicans punctuate their speech with the most wonderful assortment of exclamations I've ever heard. From grunts of dissatisfaction to falsetto squeals of delight, stories are told with great, melodic accompaniment. It's sadly quite difficult to capture these sounds in writing, though I will try.

There is a particular sound made to express disbelief or injustice, sort of an "Êêê!" that is low in pitch and delivered with a glottal stop at the beginning, a bit like what happens when one is punched in the stomach, but with a strong, vocal grunt instead of a wheezing out of air. Our guards do this one frequently, and I can hear them "Êêêê"-ing back and forth while they tell stories to pass the time.

An example of use might be:

"O patrão disse que ia me pagar o salário na semana passada, mas até agora, nada."

"Êêê! Não pagou nada? Assim não se faz..."

Another common one is a high-pitched exclamation used to show excitement. It is a bit like a glissando on a piano, starting from way up in the treble notes and running down about an octave. This expression sounds like a squeaky "Iiiih!" at the beginning, and ends on a lower note with a hint of breathiness. This excited interjection is one of Zeca's all time favorites, and sometimes he will tell a story so full of "Iiiih's" that I wonder if he might hyperventilate.

An example:

"Iiiih, Dona Ali. Tas a ver aquele gajo que era guarda da minha praça, aquele que andou a roubar espelhos? Iiiih! Parece que a polícia apanhou ele, e iiiiiih, o gajo tentou fingir que não era com ele, mas iiiiiiiiiiih, quando olharam na mochila dele tinha quatro espelhos, e aí já não tinha como negar. Iiiiiih, esses malandros, pá!"

There are many other animated expressions used by Mozambicans on a regular basis, but one has a special place in my heart (and in my vocabulary). It is an exclamation frequently used in Manica Province, and it is a two-part sound: Xiiiiiiiiii-uaaaaaaaah (or in English-pronunciation, Sheeeeeee-whaaaaah). The first bit you say with almost a falsetto voice, starting at a very high register, then come cascading down with the pitch until you are at a guttural end. It is used in a very specific context, essentally light-hearted situations about which one might say in Portuguese, "Vai dar merda."

For example, one of our old housemates was an absolute genius with computer hardware. The guy was a real IT prodigy, and would dismantle and reassemble laptops and hard drives well into the wee hours of the morning, sometimes just for fun. While he was undeniably brilliant, he also was a bit like a bumbling, absent-minded mad scientist. Half the time the computers he'd take apart would never work again, and he'd spend many hours working to solve complex networking issues only to have Ricardo walk in and discover he'd forgotten to turn on the wireless button.

My maternal grandfather was this way with vehicles; he had a garage full of cars and assorted machines that he'd tinkered with and would only function - with a bit of luck - for him.

So, this two-part exclamation would be used as follows:

"My laptop has been having problems lately, I think something is wrong with the hard drive. I gave it to André to have a look."

"Xiiiiiiii-uaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Rico and I throw this one around all the time in our conversations, a unique reminder of our time spent in Chimoio. I'm sure people must think we are crazy, but it's become one of those expressions that perfectly captures what is sometimes inexpressable with words.

Nairobi and Obama with a Big Delay

It's been nearly a month since I attended the boring and quite poorly-delivered financial system training in Nairobi. Although the course was tough to sit through (the new system they were training us on was still full of bugs), it was nice to meet colleagues from the other country offices in Africa. There were people in attendance from Kenya, Mozambique, Ghana, Ethiopia, Tanzania, Rwanda, Uganda, Swaziland and South Africa - a very international crowd.

The highlight of the week was definitely Obama's inauguration. I was excited to be in Nairobi for that historical moment, and spent the evening watching CNN from the hotel bar with a group of colleagues, eating Indian food and absolutely crying my eyes out. Never has a moment made me feel so homesick! It was really incredible to be watching Obama's speech in the midst of a group of people I'd just met, and having one of the most emotional bursts of recent memory.

After watching the speech at the hotel, a group of us headed out to the streets to get a feel for how Kenyans were commemorating the event. We were lucky to be staying within walking distance of the University of Nairobi, site of the biggest public viewing of the inauguration in the city. The students turned out in hordes, and had set up several projectors and big screens showing CNN. There were Obama imitators and mock debates going on, as well as partying all around.

When my colleagues and I walked into the main campus courtyard and started taking photos, the students went wild. I was literally bombarded with people waving American flags, chanting "Yes we can!", all vying for me to take a picture. Had it been under any other circumstances, I'd have feared for my purse and my decency. Getting surrounded by a group of young, inebriated men generally doesn't fare well for a female, foreign tourist at night. However, this was no ordinary night. The vibe was very positive, inspiring and exciting. After a round of pictures, my colleagues managed to drag me out of the middle of the crowd and we walked through the campus watching all the crazy antics going on around us - people sitting down in the middle of busy highways and successfully stopping traffic while waving an American flag, cheers and chanting, handstands and other acrobatics, screaming, etc.

It was definitely a memorable night, not just for the partying, but for the conversations I had with my diverse group of colleagues, discussing how they saw the election, what Obama meant to them - if anything - and what they expected going forward. The main sentiment, heard from the mouths of Kenyans to South Africans to Mozambicans, was that they hoped Obama would serve as a model and inspiration for their African leaders...but that sentiment was many times tempered by cynicism and the belief that "unfortunately things are different here."

Time will tell, né?