Give it away so that I can receive tomorrow

Hey ya'all. So I am sitting in this beautiful corrider outside the office at the Center listening to the song "Give it away" by Quincy Coleman. Naturally, I am casually wondering how it is that I am so blessed to be here in this moment doing what I am doing. Breathing. Communicating (hopefully) to friends and family at home and otherwise who are all involved in their specific lives, trying with their mite to be the person they were born to be.
It is not every night perhaps that I feel this content, but I am usually pensive toward nighttime. Lately I've been spending that time of contemplation playing guitar or journaling, and always stretching a bit before I go to bed. But tonight I thought I'd share some of my thoughts.

Only, there aren't that many in my mind right now. I just am feeling like this life I've been given is such a wonderful gift- a freely given, wonderful and wide open experience. The sky I look upon above the terracota roof tiles of the Center's corridors is full of my guides. The stars that will always be a reach away, yet always there to reassure me with the feeling of impulsion and wonder they give me.
Amidst all the harsh realities of the world, of this town, jeeze of the hunger and violence that is besetting people right outside the door here...
I think with my specific eye for psychological mechanisms of being- the instincts, learned responses and hopes we harbour in our bodies and minds- encountering other cultures, for me, becomes a process of learning how peoples respond to the struggles and joys of life. And one simple lesson I've learned in my time traveling is that the joys are just more important. I'm not quite sure how to articulate this pretty blatantly obvious fact, but I guess I mean to say actually that both struggles and joys are important, but the struggles just happen naturally. They are part of life. There is no way to respond to them other than to go through them with an eye and a heart for encountering and creating more joy in oneself and others.

I have spent so much energy, creative, loving, passionate energy, driving my mind into holes of despair. From difficult or confounding experiences I have learned to shape struggles into events, into dramas, into narratives of tragedy perhaps that, while sometimes admitting me to look upon myself and my life with interest or ardour, have not allowed me to move on. Suffering is a reality that we need to learn to deal with in whatever manner we can of course. I just think I have been benefitting enormously of late by simply letting things that bother me go. Which of course should be the case, but is not always easy.
Perhaps that is something about El Salvador that called me back: in a place where I am forced to be so vulnerable (the jarring history, the blank-slate of a job I have, the endlessly enchanting culture, the fact that I can't understand whole phrases people say to me sometimes!), I cannot help contact the most essential places in my soul that simply want to live and share joy with others.

My friend Eduardo, one of the night "vigilantes", is one of the nicest end caring people I know. Right now he is sweeping the floors of the corridor, which he usually does at night while singing or whistling. At dinner tonight he sat down at a table separate from ours because there were no seats left so I rose to join him and within minutes we were immersed in some kind of joke about pupusas, the food we were eating. Even though I am not a fluent spanish speaker, I am so comfortable talking with him because I know he just wants to share some words and a smile.
Sometimes Eduardo breaks into song- a campesino tune, or maybe a backstreet boys song he learned who-knows-where. The former sorts of songs showcase his wonderful singing voice, and to hear him talk of his milpa (farm) is just so satisfying. I've always wanted to be a farmer, so to be around the aura of this old-school Salvadoran gentleman is just a pleasure. Many Salvadoran men are more forward in terms of emotional communication than Northamericans I think, but the great thing about Eduardo is that his openness appears totally natural, and if he had a single malicious thought you'd probably know it just by looking at him. Ahh I don't know if I'm putting this into words or not, I just really admire Eduardo and really all the vigilantes here. On one hand they're just goofballs- you should here the high cackle of "Don Lito" when he's cleaning out the capilla (chapel) or weeding the garden- yet at the same time they are completely gallant and immediate reminiscient, like I said, of some kind of forgotten art of countryside chivarly. Ah, I love this country...

Alright, my tired mind need sleep. Yoga went very well tonight. It was the second class and I did a more extensive meditation portion- which I heard afterward was met with great approval and enjoyment. The meditation parts are harder for me to do since Spanish has a lot less words so I can't get away with just yarning on and on about the energy in the universe. I have to actually change topics and think of other things to say. Anyway, it went well and so did Ariel's chorus lesson. I was actually able to sing a scale correctly with her professional help, as was the rest of the class. Ah, final thought of the night: I miss Korla! She has gone home to visit her family in Minnesota, attend a wedding, surprise her sister and celebrate her sister's birthday with her... If you are reading this, Korla, your Salvadoran family patiently awaits your return. Aprovecha vos tu tiempo en Minnesota.



Also, I love and miss my family so much.... I hope you are all doing well and I look foward to speaking with you soon. One picture and then I'm gone. Peace! (the picture above is a student and skater friend, Alex, doing a little loopdy-loop with Volcan Guazapa in the distance)

Oh, last thing. For those interested in my mailing address, here it is:

Alexander Vaeth
Centro Arte para la Paz
2ª Calle Poniente #5
Barrio San José, Suchitoto
El Salvador, Centro América