Yesterday I flew kites with the kids at my work. I spent two whole hours being called at for help, picking up fallen kites and launching them back into the air, untangling strings, repairing what was broken, and teaching them how to face away from the wind so their kites would stay in the air. They were running around, laughing, complaining, watching, reigning in and letting out their kite strings.
"I can't do it!"
"Look at my kite!! Look how high it is! Is this the highest anyone's got all day??"
"Ashley! Could you pick up my kite?!"
"Mine broke!"
"I dont know how to fly a kite!"
"Why is it just hitting the ground??"
"Can I have the one with the sun on it?!"
"Francisco, it's my turn! Ashleeeey, he's not giving me my turn!"
I was smiling the entire time.
After most of the kids went home, I was left out in the field with one fifth grade girl, Genesis. We each had our own kites, and we flew them and played with them for about a half an hour by ourselves, letting them go as far up into the sky as our strings would allow. Then suddenly they would take a turn into the wind and plummet into the ground, and we would have to wind them up again just to get them in the air once more. I dont understandy why, but every time my kite would be up there in the air, I was exhilarated... like it was me who was flying. And though the kite would suddenly hit the ground and be stuck there for awhile, it made getting it back up in the air all the more exciting.
At the end of the day, most of the kites were broken and in several pieces. We said goodbye to them as they were carried away, a few hours worth of entertainment and exhilaration haphazardly stuffed into the garbage can. The kites were a small thing, but they had quickly placed me back into the world of being a child, where things are easy and carefree and innocent. Where you dont have to worry about the future or money or the stress that comes with independence and responsibility. Where you can look at an adult, as Genesis did to me, and say,
"You are never too old to fly a kite."
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Barefoot
Becoming immersed in a culture can be described in shoes. Shoes take you places, protect you, indicate your purpose in wearing them. Take the expat, for example. Heels are the essence of expats. They are shiny, pretty, and formal. Heels take part in fancy events and indicate status within the society. Only the balls of the feet touch the ground, and all else is elevated above it. Expats take part in the shiny parts of the culture in which they live, and never experience all that is part of the life around them. They are limited in their mobility, but they enjoy the status that comes with wearing them.
Tourism is another way in which one can get closer to a culture. Tourism is experienced as wearing tennis shoes. Tennis shoes are meant for comfort. The tennis shoes allow one to walk around, see all there is to see and continue on their way, but yet stay within their comfort zone. There is a barrier separating the tourist and the culture, and the tourist prefers to stay within this barrier of the tennis shoe. Tennis shoes are for continued walking, and the tourist never becomes fully immersed in the culture because they are simply striding through, seeing the popular and beautiful attractions, and continuing on. Tennis shoes protect them from the obstacles on the road, and therefore the obstacles of the culture.
I belong to the group with no name. We are not travelers or journeyers… that implies transition. We are not immigrants… we plan to move on some day. We are the group that wants to immerse themselves as much into the culture as they can; the group that plans to stay and learn and become. I am a part of a group that will live among a new culture and experience all there is, the wonderful as well as the dreadful. The group that is barefoot.
Being barefoot is no easy task. The barefoot person must walk slower, feel all the crevices and pebbles in the ground; we experience all the bumps and difficulties that come with living in another culture in sharper form, yet we can also feel the sand beneath our feet and wiggle our toes in the grass. There is more intimate contact with the world around us, as our bare feet feel everything. Our skin is the only thing separating our feet from the ground, just as our own cultural standpoint is the only thing separating us from this other world. We are fully exposed and at the wrath of another people, another culture. We may hurt more, but we also feel more than people wearing high heels or tennis shoes.
However, the more we walk barefoot, the more calluses we create on our bare feet, making it easier to navigate in this other place. Our fragileness slowly eases away as we become a bit more comfortable in our surroundings, yet never forgetting the fact that we are stripped of our comfort zone, even though we are forming a slightly new one the more we walk barefoot. We are learning to jump the crevices and avoid the pebbles, we are learning where to find the softest sand. We are learning the ins and outs of the culture and are now comfortable here, even though we can never be fully a part of it, we have come to understand it and appreciate it for its quirks and beauty and difficulties. We are barefoot but tough.
And when it is time to leave, we will move on to another place, discover new obstacles in the roads, and feel new warmth on our toes. And we will yet again start by tiptoeing slowly around, and figuring out the best ways to navigate in a new place. We will create new calluses as we discover the joys and hardships of a new culture, allowing ourselves to continue growing and walking barefoot around the world.
Tourism is another way in which one can get closer to a culture. Tourism is experienced as wearing tennis shoes. Tennis shoes are meant for comfort. The tennis shoes allow one to walk around, see all there is to see and continue on their way, but yet stay within their comfort zone. There is a barrier separating the tourist and the culture, and the tourist prefers to stay within this barrier of the tennis shoe. Tennis shoes are for continued walking, and the tourist never becomes fully immersed in the culture because they are simply striding through, seeing the popular and beautiful attractions, and continuing on. Tennis shoes protect them from the obstacles on the road, and therefore the obstacles of the culture.
I belong to the group with no name. We are not travelers or journeyers… that implies transition. We are not immigrants… we plan to move on some day. We are the group that wants to immerse themselves as much into the culture as they can; the group that plans to stay and learn and become. I am a part of a group that will live among a new culture and experience all there is, the wonderful as well as the dreadful. The group that is barefoot.
Being barefoot is no easy task. The barefoot person must walk slower, feel all the crevices and pebbles in the ground; we experience all the bumps and difficulties that come with living in another culture in sharper form, yet we can also feel the sand beneath our feet and wiggle our toes in the grass. There is more intimate contact with the world around us, as our bare feet feel everything. Our skin is the only thing separating our feet from the ground, just as our own cultural standpoint is the only thing separating us from this other world. We are fully exposed and at the wrath of another people, another culture. We may hurt more, but we also feel more than people wearing high heels or tennis shoes.
However, the more we walk barefoot, the more calluses we create on our bare feet, making it easier to navigate in this other place. Our fragileness slowly eases away as we become a bit more comfortable in our surroundings, yet never forgetting the fact that we are stripped of our comfort zone, even though we are forming a slightly new one the more we walk barefoot. We are learning to jump the crevices and avoid the pebbles, we are learning where to find the softest sand. We are learning the ins and outs of the culture and are now comfortable here, even though we can never be fully a part of it, we have come to understand it and appreciate it for its quirks and beauty and difficulties. We are barefoot but tough.
And when it is time to leave, we will move on to another place, discover new obstacles in the roads, and feel new warmth on our toes. And we will yet again start by tiptoeing slowly around, and figuring out the best ways to navigate in a new place. We will create new calluses as we discover the joys and hardships of a new culture, allowing ourselves to continue growing and walking barefoot around the world.
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