2017

Hello, humans.

2017 is coming to an end, and I believe that it was better than 2016. Even though it had hurricanes, horrible terrorist attacks, and Maryam Mirzakhani's death, many good things happened, too. It was a particularly good year for women. The Women's March happened, we had trends like #MeToo and Nevertheless, she persisted, females are now allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia, and Malala Yousafzai started going to school at Oxford. In other news, the world economy is growing, teen pregnancy is falling, and the Islamic State's territorial base was destroyed. Also, the aid that victims of terrible tragedies received proved that solidarity still survives in the world. Humanity's boldness was represented by the millions who stood up against injustice in many ways, like resisting unfair laws and bills and publicly speaking up against sexual harassment.

Boy, this was an exciting year for me! I traveled abroad, to Switzerland in April and to Argentina in September, to participate in international math contests for the first time. I had the honor of being part of the first Costa Rican delegation for the EGMO, and it was quite thrilling (haha). I also had to give a talk and a few interviews because of that *hair flip*. On a national level, I won two medals, one silver and one gold. Winning gold in the National Olympiad was an extremely unexpected but hugely magnificent blessing.

At the beginning of the year, I went to my first Young Life camp. I met wonderful people through it, and even though I haven't been able to go to as many reunions as I'd like to, I'm glad to be part of that group.

Oh, and I finished my first year of the IB. Wow. That was another roller coaster. I don't understand how I made it. I was pushed past my breaking point multiple times, and I'm both surprised by and grateful for my survival. It really shaped me as a person by helping me build character and develop many new skills, like time and crisis management. Next year will be worse though (kuddos to everyone who has told me that), but at least I'm already more than halfway through in regard to time.

Honestly, this wouldn't be a good recap of 2017 if I didn't mention that this was the year of Finally Giving Into K-Pop. Boy am I hooked. I discovered a whole new universe full of art. It has everything; the music, the dancing, the singing and rapping, the concepts, the visuals,... every single detail is amazing. I am constantly learning more and more about it every day, and I hope to continue doing so (to my family's dismay) in 2018. Through it I also rediscovered my hidden passion for dancing. It had always been there, but I kind of repressed it until this year. Having a couple of dance presentations with my awesome friends was loads of fun, and I look forward to do more if we get the chance.

On a deeper level, 2017 was a year of growth. I built my character and developed new skills, like I mentioned before. I really grew in the area of interpersonal relationships, even though I still have a lot more to go. I became more loving, affectionate, and wise. I honestly feel like I'm a very different person than I was at the start of the year, which is weird because I've never felt that way before. I know myself better. Most importantly, I've made the decision to address my health in 2018. In other words, and speaking like a writer, I successfully overcame conflict, resulting in ample character development. If this part of my life was a story, 2017 would be the year of exposition and rising action. That means that 2018 will be the year of climax, falling action, and resolution. Great. I'm totally not terrified.

Really, I can't believe I'm still alive. Man, what a year. I completely loved it.

2018 will be a very challenging year for me. It's my last year of high school, and the grades I get in the IB will most likely define my future. I'll have to start applying for college. If I want to get into Cambridge, I'll have to get excellent grades and win a couple of international awards. I'll also turn 18, which legally makes me an adult in a lot of countries, including my own. No pressure, really. Haha. I'm sure everything will turn out incredible, even better than in 2017. Yeah. God is in control.

At the end of last year's post, I asked 2017 to come at me, and God did it do that with a terrible strength. However, I rarely learn from these type of experiences, so I'd like to test my luck again. 2018, come at me, bro.

Best wishes for 2018. May it be as lovely and fruitful for you as my 2017 was for me.

Love,

Nan.

Here are some pictures of my best memories of 2017.

PELOS PELOS.

Look, we're in Switzerland.

Oh, and in Argentina.

What a pro (shes obviously not scared to death).

Girl Meets Evil.

7eens (they'll hate me for this caption).

My chiquitos (thanks Juli).

Silver and gold.

A special segment for awesome people

My friends.

They're all so-

I love them so much I'm-

I MET MY INTERNET FRIENDS TOO-

(I also love my familia but I won't post their pictures here).

Todas unas chicas BI.

I'm going to cry because I love everyone (even if you're not in these pictures). Happy New Year.  

Spring of Jericho

Pigat wets the cloth and sets it on the girl’s forehead softly. Her night fevers have gotten worse since last week. As drops of water trickle down her temples, Pigat brushes Talliya’s hair out of her eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

The girl replies with a coughing fit. She has to stand up, making the cloth fall off of her head. Pigat takes Talliya’s hand away from her lips and gives her a dry cloth to cover her mouth with instead. Then she slowly rubs her back as the coughing persists.

As soon as Talliya stops, she falls back on the bed, heaving for breath. Pigat takes the cloth from the girl’s hand and examines it. Blood, again. With a sigh, she picks up the cloth that had fallen on the blanket, dries the sweat on the girl’s face, wets the fabric again, and then sets it on her forehead. The cloth had left a dampened spot on the blanket. Pigat considers whether she should go get another one, but she doesn’t want to leave her side.

Pigat still remembers the day when a little baby was laid on her arms, about ten years ago. While she was only a teenager, she was assigned as the attendant of the new noble girl. The baby gurgled, smiling, and then wrapped her small fist around one of Pigat’s fingers. From that day on, an indestructible bond was created.

She had been there when she learned how to crawl and when she took her first steps. When Talliya’s unintelligible mumbles became words for the first time, they’d been Pigat. She had fed her, changed her, and cleaned her up. After a while she was taking her on walks around town to entertain her unquenchable curiosity. She loved to go near the springs where the land was full of life with birds and small insects that she surprisingly wasn’t afraid of catching with her little hands. Uncountable mornings were spent chasing after butterflies and eagles that flied high up in the clear blue sky. To Pigat’s discontent, she loved to lie on the ground, either on her back to make out shapes in the clouds or on her stomach to wallow and crawl. Her mother was furious when they returned to the palace, Talliya covered in dirt, and would often send them both back to the spring for a wash.

It was on one of those afternoons that Pigat had made a terrible mistake. Talliya was sitting on a rock with her arms crossed after reluctantly washing herself when she spotted a group of older boys playing in the distance. Her pout turned into a smile and she turned around to look at Pigat with sparkling eyes.

“Pigat, Pigat, may I please play with them?”

“They’re farmer boys, you shouldn’t.”

“So what? Please, Pigat, I’m bored.”

“Your mother won’t be happy.”

“She doesn’t need to find out,” Talliya suggested with a smirk. “Please.”

Pigat looked into her pleading eyes and her heart began to melt. She knew she shouldn’t, but Talliya really wanted to play. There were no kids her age in the palace, and that often made the girl feel very lonely. Only one day wouldn’t hurt. It’s true, her mother wouldn’t find out…

“Okay, go ahead, Talliya, but be quick, please. Don’t go far away either; always stay in sight. And please don’t get dirty again,” Pigat said, giving in.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you!” the girl exclaimed, jumping up and down and hugging Pigat before running to meet the boys.

Pigat laughed and went after her. The boys were nice and soon included Talliya in their game, being gentle so they wouldn’t hurt her. At first, she was the referee for a small wrestling tournament. After that, they ran towards the fields to explore them. They went back down to the spring, and Talliya surprised them there by catching a grasshopper. The boys climbed up a tree and the girl carried the fruit that fell down. Pigat told Talliya that it was time to head back home while they were sitting on the ground in a circle, eating the fruit that they’d picked. Amidst the echoes of laughter, Pigat didn’t notice that one of the boys had been coughing during the whole session.

A month later, Talliya was woken by a coughing fit in the middle of the night. Pigat heard her from the adjacent bedroom where she slept, and ran to her aid. From that night on, it progressively got worse.

Now Pigat watched the girl let out ragged breathes while she slept. She has been so weak lately, and sleeping was all she ever did. Her little body wouldn’t be able to resist any longer. She’d soon be gone. Tears began stinging Pigat’s eyes as she realized that it was her fault, this was all her fault.

A moment later she’s crying desperately, not holding anything back. Her face is swollen, red, and drenched in tears. She bites into a blanket to not wake her little girl up as a sob escapes her throat. Her eyes are closed and her nails scrape her knees and legs until they leave bloody trails behind. The muscles in her heart threaten to burst. She’s heaving for breath now, but silently. Please don’t take her, please don’t. Take me instead, she begs to the Heavens.

She manages to calm down after a while, and presses her hot cheeks against the young girl’s abdomen. Like that she drifts off, trying to forget this excruciating reality.

In the morning, Donatiya, another servant, shakes her awake. She’s holding a platter with breakfast for Talliya. Immediately after registering the situation, Pigat softly puts a finger under the girl’s nostrils to check if she’s still breathing. She sighs when she feels the warm breath against her knuckle.

“Good morning, Donatiya. She hasn’t woken up yet, but you can leave the food here. Thank you.”

Donatiya nods, leaves the platter on a nearby table, and walks out of the room. Pigat proceeds to change the girl’s blanket and cloths. Talliya is already awake when she returns with the new fabric. Pigat sets everything on the foot of the bed and rapidly seats back on her stool next to the young girl.

“How are you feeling? Are you hot? I was going to change your blanket, and if you wish I can put another wet cloth on your forehead. Are you hungry? Here’s your breakfast. Please eat, it’ll make you stronger.”

Talliya tries to sit up, but Pigat has to help her. Pigat carefully brings the spoon to her lips and the girl swallows with trouble. After a few more spoonfuls, Talliya shakes her head and lies back down.

“Come on, Talliya, you need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You need strength.”

“I’m going to throw up if I eat more.”

“Talliya…”

The young girl rolls over and gives her back to Pigat, who calls Donatiya to take away the platter. After she leaves, Pigat hears Talliya’s soft whimpers and notices that her shoulders are weakly shaking with sobs.

“My dear, what’s wrong? Please look at me,” Pigat asks.

Talliya faces her attendant again, her eyes big, red, and full of tears. Pigat gently wipes her cheeks dry with a cloth.

“I don’t want to die, Pigat.”

Pigat’s eyes get wide and she bends down to hug the young girl. She slowly runs her fingers through her hair.

“I will miss you a lot. An awful lot,” Talliya whispers.

Tears begin to build up on Pigat’s eyes, but she can’t cry right now. She needs to be strong for her little girl. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes.

“Don’t say that, dear. Soon you won’t suffer anymore.”

“Won’t you miss me too, Pigat?”

Pigat discreetly wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “You have no idea.”

“I love you very much, Pigat” Talliya says.

Pigat sits up and kisses the young girl’s forehead. “I love you too, dear. Like a daughter.”

She takes a cloth and dries Talliya’s cheeks again. Then, she kisses them both. It’s getting harder to hold back her tears.

“Darling, you should sleep. You’re very tired,” Pigat states.

“I want to see you.”

“Please.”

Talliya tries to fight it, but soon her drowsiness takes over and she’s fast asleep. Pigat watches her chest rising and falling, and admires the peace in her complexion. At least when she’s sleeping, her eyebrows relax, making the wrinkles on her forehead disappear. The pain goes away momentarily.

They stay like that for a while, Talliya asleep and Pigat tending to her, until the sun sets and dusk brings about an awful coughing fit.

It starts like usual, and Pigat only comforts her as she coughs. However, Pigat soon realizes that this fit is nothing like the ones before. Talliya’s lungs scream for air. Her coughing gets louder and louder until she can’t contain it. Her eyes are red and her forehead is covered in sweat. Pigat starts calling out for help, and a group of servants rush in. She’s pushed back into a corner of the room. Soon, Talliya’s mother and father arrive.

“My baby, my baby, what’s happening to her?” her mother shouts as she pushes the servants away.

Her husband grabs her and holds her tight to prevent her from hurting anyone. She’s crying and screaming. Although her father tries to maintain his composure, tears trail down his cheeks.

Pigat is paralyzed. She can’t cry. She’s only standing there, watching the scene unfold as she shakes. Nothing is real any longer. She can only hear Talliya’s coughing and her loud, panicked breaths. Soon she doesn’t hear anything anymore. Her mother lets out a hideous shriek. Pigat faints.

In this dark night, the wheat fields dance with the cold wind. By them, the waters in the spring remember their origins. They fell from the clouds as rain and joined a fast-flowing stream. Both animals and humans drank from it. Children bathed and mothers washed their clothes in its waters. Then, along its trek it picked up rocks and fallen leaves. Most of the stones left the flow after they were made smooth and round by the stream’s action. Everywhere it went it brought life and refreshment and renewal along with it. However, when the time to join the spring came, the waters had to be filtered. Everything that they were carrying, all the leaves, the branches, the rocks, had to stay behind. Nevertheless, the freshness that they had gifted the world with would linger, continuing to bless the universe eternally.

When Pigat wakes up, she’s still on the floor. Donatiya is folding Talliya’s blankets. Although she isn’t fully conscious yet, Pigat staggers towards her.

“Where’s Talliya?” she asks.

Donatiya looks at her with heavy eyes. Pigat sits down on the bed, frowning and trying to remember how to breathe.

“I’m so sorry, Pigat,” Donatiya states.

Pigat puts her face on her hands and begins to cry horribly. Donatiya sits next to her and wraps her arms around her body. She rubs her back in silence until Pigat is done. Then, she hands her a cloth to clean her face. Her complexion relaxes as she looks into space. She knows what’s coming.

“Donatiya, please let me go to my room, and then I’ll follow you,” Pigat asks.

She stands up and goes to her bedroom next to Talliya’s. She washes her face and dons her best clothes, which aren’t exactly stunning, but acceptable for a servant like her. She puts on a little bit of Talliya’s eyeliner and brushes her hair. Then, she braids it and puts it up into a beautiful hairdo, just like she used to do with Talliya. She looks in the mirror one last time and decides that she’s ready.

Donatiya leads her through the palace, where she can recognize most of the mourners’ faces. She sees Talliya’s aunts, her cousins, and her uncles. The women are all walking after their husbands, red-eyed and with swollen faces, looking for Talliya’s parents. They’ve probably been woken up with the bad news, because it’s still very late.

She turns a corner and goes into a quiet room lighted with candles. On the far side there’s a table with Talliya’s body lying on it. Pigat looks at Donatiya with gratefulness in her eyes, and she quickly smiles back with a nod. Then, she walks towards the table.

Talliya’s eyes are closed. She is draped in an exquisite rob, held by a bronze pin on her shoulder. There are bronze bracelets on her little wrists and she is wearing a pair of beautiful, round earrings made of the same material. A wonderful necklace with a lovely carnelian surrounded by beads and rock crystals decorates her delicate neck. One of her tiny fingers has a signet ring with protective signs on. A scarab with an image of the sun rising over a hill behind a crouching lion, her father’s title, and the name of the city rest upon her chest. She smells like incense and ointment.

Pigat admires her for a while. Don’t worry, darling, we’ll be seeing each other soon, she tells her with her heart. She’s firm, trying hard not to cry. When she’s ready, she turns to face the girl’s parents, who are also watching their daughter nearby.

“Pigat, thank you very much for all that you did for Talliya. You were an excellent attendant, and I’m sure she loved you very much,” her mother says before her voice breaks and she’s weeping.

Her husband hugs her tighter, and says, “Thank you for your service, Pigat. I’m so sorry, but this is customary. A shame, such a shame, to lose such a valuable servant.”

“Don’t worry, I understand, my lord. I’m also thankful for how you’ve treated me all these years,” Pigat replies and looks at Talliya. “Your daughter was an amazing girl. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Talliya’s father answers, and his face darkens. “Goodbye, Pigat. May you be rewarded well for your service in the next life.”

“Farewell, Pigat,” says Talliya’s mother through tears.

“I thank you again, my lord and my lady. Goodbye, and may your future be full of blessings.”

Pigat turns and walks back to Donatiya. She thanks her for letting her visit Talliya, and then follows her out of the room. This time, they walk through a more private part of the palace, and the guests are nowhere to be seen. Their footsteps echo through the vast halls. Finally, they stop before a tall set of doors and face each other. Donatiya hugs her.

“Goodbye, my friend. I will miss you,” she says.

“I will miss you too, Donatiya. I hope you live a long and happy life. Thank you for everything.”

Donatiya hugs her for a while longer and they stay quiet. Then, she lets her go and opens the door. She wipes a tear and signals for her to go in. A big basin full of water waits for her between two bulky men. Pigat goes in, stops, and turns around to look at Donatiya one last time. Donatiya sees the peace in Pigat’s eyes when they exchange a smile. Pigat continues, and Donatiya closes the door.

The next day, the tomb under the palace is ready. It has a sweet smell of perfume, and adornments made of radiant jewels. Pigat’s body is also there, waiting for Talliya. A group of men carry the girl in a litter and lay her next to her attendant. The place is silent except for the sniffling and occasional sobs. After a priest’s blessing, the tomb is sealed. Pigat and Talliya would rest together for eternity.

*****

Hello, humans. I hope you enjoyed this short story, even if it came out sadder than I expected haha. I got the inspiration for this piece when I was reading National Geographic. There was this article that said that a noble girl’s tomb from ancient Jericho was recently found at Tell es-Sultan. You can read the article here.

I hope you all have a nice rest of the year.

Love,

Nan.

Feliz Navidad 2017

Hola, humanos. Me gustaría desearles a todos y todas una muy feliz Navidad (aunque oficialmente no sea todavía jaja). Que tengan una tarde y noche hermosas con sus seres queridos. Incluso si no celebran Navidad, espero que pasen un tiempo maravilloso.

Para todas aquellas personas que sí son cristianas, recuerden por qué celebramos esta fiesta. El nacimiento de Jesús fue una manifestación del amor infinito de Dios por la humanidad. Por lo tanto, durante estas fechas debemos reflejar Su amor tratando a todas las personas con cariño, no solo a nuestros seres queridos. Seamos personas generosas, compasivas y gentiles con todas las demás personas, especialmente aquellas que más lo necesitan. 

Estas fechas pueden ser un poco duras para algunas personas, y es especialmente frustrante cuando se espera que uno esté feliz nada más por las fiestas. Quisiera decirle a todas aquellas personas que pasan por esto que lo que están haciendo es suficiente. No tienen que estar felices todos los días de su vida, incluso si esta es una fecha especial. A veces uno simplemente no se siente bien, y no es por culpa propia. Sin embargo, recuerden que nada es para siempre. Se sentirán mejor pronto, entonces sigan siendo fuertes. Estoy orgullosa de ustedes por no parar de luchar incluso cuando se vuelve verdaderamente difícil.

Les deseo una vida llena de amor, luz y paz.

Con amor,

Nan

P.S. ¡Perdón por no escribir nada en mucho tiempo! Escribí un cuento cortito que estoy editando. ¡Espérenlo pronto! 

Merry Christmas 2017

Hello, humans. I would like to wish you all a Merry Christmas (even though it's not officially Christmas yet haha). May you spend a lovely evening with your loved ones. Even if you don't celebrate Christmas, I still hope that you have a wonderful time.

To those of you who are Christian, remember why we celebrate this holiday. The birth of Jesus showed God's infinite love for humanity. Therefore, during this season we should reflect His love by treating every person kindly, not just our loved ones. Let's be generous, compassionate, and gentle with everybody, especially with those who need it the most. 

The holidays can be kind of hard for some people, and it's especially frustrating when people expect you to be happy just because of the season. To all those of you who have to endure this, I would like to tell you that what you're doing is enough. You don't have to be happy every day of your life, even if it's a special time. Sometimes you are just not feeling well, and it's not your fault at all. Remember that nothing lasts forever, though. You will feel better soon, so stay strong. I'm proud of you for continuing to fight even when it gets very difficult. 

May your life be full of love, light, and peace.

Love, 

Nan.

P.S. Sorry for not updating in a long while! I wrote a short story that I'm currently editing. Expect it soon!

Ode to the North

Hello, humans. Guess what. GAME OF THRONES RETURNS TONIGHT. I'M SO EXCITED AND AFRAID. I can't wait to find out what happens. Unfortunately, I have a gut feeling that my beloved Sansa will die this season, and I really hope I'm proven wrong. However, I won't accept anything as cannon until The Winds of Winter comes out and I can know the *true* story. In case you didn't notice, I'm throwing shade at two particular men, but it doesn't matter. They make a pretty good show. We should at least give them that.

To celebrate the premiere of the long-awaited seventh season, I will share another poem that I wrote for my eighth grade poetry project with you. This one has to do with A Song of Ice and Fire. Hope you like it.

*****

Ode to the North

Wolves, lizard-lions, and bears

Home of ancient kings and heirs

Built of ice, honorable and just

We are worthy of your trust

But we destroy deceivers

We hold the old gods' favors

We have many different saviors 

Our trees have many eyes

Ancient, honorable, and wise

They'll answer our demands

Our blood is noble and ancient

We are fierce but patient

We have things long ago lost

We aren't bothered by a little frost

By the old ways we live

You may think we're defeated

But you're just being conceited

In no time we'll swallow you whole 

You won't leave without paying your toll

In the North we remember

*****

Winter is here, and only the pack will survive.

Love, 

Nan.

Pintor

Just like the average man, Robin spent most of his days in a cubicle. Still, his little station was different, for he worked in a garden. It was around the size of a small kitchen, but beautiful nonetheless. Its walls were completely covered in green vines, and all of Robin’s favorite flowers were present- marigolds, buttercups, and tall, red roses. Naturally, their lovely smell and bright colors attracted all kinds of butterflies. Robin enjoyed looking at the green longwings, blue morphos, and the occasional monarch. While he took all that wonderful sight in, he listened to the bluebirds’ song.

Robin stood serenely in that garden, palette in hand. With careful movements of his brush, he painted the ocean at night. Why would he paint the sea if he was nowhere near a beach, you ask? The answer is simple: he whiffed a faint scent of salt and a vivid memory of the ocean came to his mind.

Robin was quite a skilled artist: he could paint every image in his head onto a canvas. That was the way he created most of his works. In fact, he did it so well that it had gained him a considerable amount of fame. Kings, rich executives, and all kinds of aristocrats around the globe invited him to demonstrate his talent in person. Because of this he could live off his art, unlike many other painters.

This afternoon, however, Robin wasn’t showing his world-renown talents to anybody. He was painting just for the pleasure of it, and because once he had an image stuck in his head, it was literally painful to keep it in.

Now, the ocean that came to shape on Robin’s canvas roared with life. It wasn’t extremely turbulent, but it wasn’t static either. The waves’ impressive demeanor demanded respect and admiration. They crashed into the rocks at the shore, creating copious quantities of sea foam. Nevertheless, the waves didn’t convey fear at all. Seeing them from a distance made the observer feel safe and delighted by the sea’s majesty.

Up in the clear and dark sky, the huge moon delivered a similar feeling. It looked imposing and radiant while at the same time looking caring and motherly, like a loving queen. The stars seemed to be aware of her presence as they all twinkled beautifully and vigorously at her command.

Robin was in such a trance that he failed to notice when the darkness of his picture began seeping into his garden. In fact, he was only aware of it when painting became practically impossible due to the scarce light. Soon, it started getting cold and his younger sister called him inside. Satisfied with his day’s work, he gathered his equipment up and returned to his house.   

*****

Hello, humans. Here's a short story about nothing in particular. It was mainly meant to be aesthetic. Hope you like it.

Tomorrow I'll be going to camp and I'm *pretty* nervous about it. I don't like camping, but I know this will be an amazing experience. I'll tell you more about it when I get back. Wish me luck.

It's almost back to school time! Oh, no. I love vacations. Guess I'll have to return to the stress of IB soon *sigh*.

GAME OF THRONES RETURNS THIS SUNDAY. OH, YEAH. I'M SO READY FOR IT.

I hope you're all doing well. If you're not, then I hope you get better. Remember that every situation eventually changes because we live in a dynamic universe. Thinking about nice things helps a lot sometimes.

Love, 

Nan.

Some Old Poems

Hello, humans. I found a few poems that I wrote when I was in eighth grade for an assignment and I wanted to share them with you. Hope you like them.

*****

January Day

The wind moves the trees

Its leaves like a thousand butterflies

Flying for the first time

The green grass grows

Too slowly to be seen

Waiting to be cut again

The azure sky looks calm

Like the sea in a summer day

No waves, no ships, no movement

The clouds cry a thousand little tears

That fall down to give life to the trees

The grass thanks the sky for its rain

*****

Bliss

I open my eyes and see the sky

I stand up and start walking

Realization grows in me and confusion leaves

I remember this place

My heart leaps where it sits

My feet want to run as fast as they can

Happy tears fill my eyes

This feeling, it’s stronger than before

I’m no longer who I used to be

I let go of what I had and what I was

I now know I can’t feel bad or sad

For I am finally where I’ve always wanted to be

*****

25 and a day

25 and a day

Day of the great fail

I haven’t been here since May

And then the bake sale

Hair bouncing up and down

A high jump and a score

I feel I’m going to drown

October one plus twenty-four

Nobody said it was easy

Always there in my mind

Always feeling this uneasy

With nothing new for me to find

Three years have gone by

And still here I lie

           

*****

I’m sorry because I haven’t posted anything in a while. I’ve been extremely busy (and kind of still am). The work ain’t gonna do itself haha. Also, I don’t like posting most of the things that I write (yikes). However, I’ve got many ideas and I’m thinking about maybe posting a poem. Let’s see if I’m bold enough.

Love,

Nan.

Doña Chilo

No me puedo dormir. Me voy a caer del tren. Tengo que seguir rezando.

Dios te salve María, llena eres de gracia… qué rosario más bonito el mío. Tanto que se lo quería pasar a la Angelita. Ay, qué chigüina más linda. El día que me fui me llevó una conchita que se había encontrado en la playa. Mire abuelita, para que se acuerde de mí. Como si la pudiera olvidar…

Levanto la cabeza de un solo para no dormirme y agarro el rosario bien fuerte. Madrecita, ayudame. Y cuidá a la Angelita y a sus hermanitos y a su mamá. Pobre la Brenda, cuidando a los niños y todo el día el Enrique afuera. Trabajan duro y nada les pagan. A como está la situación… por eso tuve que irme.

Ya me había ido una vez, a cuidar unos chavalos a Costa Rica. Les tenía tanto cariño a esos niños hermosos, tanto que aprendieron a decir Chilo antes que mamá. Cuando la patrona me dijo que ya no me podían pagar sentí un vacío en el pecho. En el bus de vuelta a Nicaragua lloraba, pero tenía que ser en silencio. Como ahora.

Me percato que estoy llorando, pero al menos así no me voy a dormir. Los extraño tanto. Yo no los quería dejar. Pero me pesaba más en el alma ver a los chiquitos durmiéndose sin un grano de arroz en el estómago, ver al David chavalito, yéndose a trabajar con el papá, a sus diez añitos.  A la Brenda ardiendo en calentura mientras el tierno en puro llanto. Los ayudo más yéndome para los Estados Unidos que estando ahí, siendo otra boca para alimentar.

Espero hallar trabajo, pero no sé cómo son las gringas. Yo no soy holgazana, siempre dejo todo nítido y no me robo ni un real. Diosito quiera que me encuentre a una patrona que me trate decentemente. Y que con lo que me pague me alcance para mandarle a la Brenda y el Enrique.

Se me están cerrando los ojos. Ya no puedo más. Ay jodido, me mata el hambre…

Certamen Literario 2017

Hola, humanos.  

He aquí mi primera publicación en español. Se trata sobre algo que pasó hoy. Espero que les guste.

En mi colegio, se realiza un certamen literario anual desde hace tres años. Usualmente son tres categorías: primero a sexto grado, sétimo a noveno grado (poesía y relato corto), y décimo y undécimo grado (poesía y relato corto). Este año nos tocó a un grupo de compañeras y a mí elegir a las ganadoras de la categoría de relato corto de sétimo a noveno grado. Aunque eran muchas producciones literarias, fue sumamente entretenido leerlas. Al final, las obras ganadoras me encantaron. Me impresionó mucho el primer lugar: una maravillosa historia escrita por una genial escritora de sétimo grado sobre un ruiseñor y una canaria. De verdad la amé, al igual que mis compañeras. Se nota que la autora tiene un gran talento y espero que continúe escribiendo.

Después de la premiación de la categoría que juzgamos, anunciaron a las ganadoras del relato corto de décimo a undécimo grado. En esta categoría, a diferencia de las demás, solo fueron premiados el primer y segundo lugar. Cual fue mi sorpresa cuando, al anunciar uno de los relatos ganadores, escuché el título de mi relato corto, Doña Chilo.

No lo podía creer. Había ganado segundo lugar.

En realidad nunca creí que ganaría nada. Me pareció que el relato (que pueden leer haciendo clic aquí) no era muy bueno. Ganar fue realmente una sorpresa para mí, tanto que no sabía a dónde ir cuando me entregaron el premio. Aunque todavía estoy un poco confundida, también estoy feliz. 

Quisiera felicitar a las demás ganadoras en todas las categorías. Sus obras estuvieron increíbles. Ustedes son sumamente talentosas.

Muchas gracias a todas las personas que trabajaron en este certamen. Aprecio mucho su esfuerzo. Les agradezco por darme la oportunidad de ser juez y de poder ganar un premio.

Me disculpo por no publicar tan frecuentemente. Aunque tengo muchas ideas e inspiración, he estado extremadamente ocupada. Es demasiado frustrante tener una historia en la cabeza y no poder escribirla, en serio. Hasta duele físicamente. Espero poder escribir más pronto. 

Con amor,

Nan.

Skeleton In the Clouds

Hello, humans.

I was watching the new episode of Sherlock, but since it's almost midnight I had to stop to write. It's been pretty amazing so far. I love Sherlock because he's so clever and I like his sense of humor. I wish I had his deductive skills, but alas I'll have to stick to math haha (obvs jk).

Something bothered me today. There's a certain *someone* who has a sibling who looks just like them, and people can't stop comparing them. The sibling gets a lot of crap for not 'being like that *someone*' and I think that's really messed up. The sibling is just less publicly known than that certain *someone*, and it's their choice. People shouldn't be mean to them because they aren't doing what their *sibling* is doing. For God's sake, you don't even know them. Stop.

There's something I really like about the way my parents raised my sister and me. They never compared us to each other. For example, I love math, but it's not my sister's cup of tea (she's extremely good at it though). She doesn't want to compete in math because it's not something she enjoys, and she prefers baking and doing more creative things (she's a great baker by the way). Our parents have never forced my sister to compete in math or forced me to cook. Instead, they celebrate our individual talents. I really appreciate that.

What I want to say with this is that you should never compare people to other people. Each person is unique and special and no one should be forced to be like another person. Every person has something to offer, and no matter how 'insignificant' someone might think that is, it's important. This includes not comparing yourself to other people, too. You have your own talents and skills, even if you don't notice or downplay them, and they are as essential as anyone else's.

To illustrate my point, I'll give you a weird example. Imagine if the other organs told the liver to be more like the kidneys to the point that the liver started comparing itself to the kidneys and being miserable. It wouldn't be pretty logical or functional, would it? They both have different, but crucial, functions. If the liver spent all they wishing it could be the kidneys instead of doing its job, the whole body would suffer. That's exactly what happens with humans. If we have a horde of sad, unsatisfied humans, humanity also suffers.

You are immensely worthy. Never let anyone make you feel less because you aren't like someone else because your worth isn't tied to other people. You are worthy because you are yourself, and no one can take that away from you. Stop believing the lies that society tells you.

In other (cheesy) words, you have mass and take up space. You matter, my friend. 

Love,

Nan.

Moana Mini-Analysis

Hello, humans.

About three weeks ago, I went to see Moana with a friend, and I absolutely adored it. It is now my favorite Disney movie of all time (Baymax is still my favorite Disney princess, though). In fact, I loved it so much that now, without having read any reviews (only the Christian Spotlight one because that website is crap and I wanted something to complain about), I will write my own small analysis. It contains spoilers, so beware. It also contains Christian topics.

First of all, I'm going to say that the animation was marvelous. The colors, the texture of the water, the night sky, the spirits, everything was so aesthetically beautiful. I also loved that traditional Polynesian art was included. Then, there's the long shot of the scene where Moana is hugging her grandmother's spirit and the beautiful night sky can be seen in the background. That was, aesthetically, my favorite shot of the movie.

Now, let's start analyzing this movie's messages. First things first, Moana was not a traditional Disney princess. She wasn't even a princess at all, as she told Maui. Her body wasn't slim and her skin wasn't white. She had dark, thick hair and dark eyes. Her hair was awesome, honestly. Even though she had that annoying, signature Disney princess face (you know, the one every female lead since Rapunzel has had), she didn't stick to traditional, Western beauty standards. When we were going to watch the movie, my friend told me that she was glad that there was finally a princess who looked like her, with wavy hair and darker skin. That is very important because these characters are what children look up to as they grow up. It's easier for a child to relate to a character if it resembles them. 

I don't know how succession works in Motunui, so I can't be sure if Moana was going to become the next chief just because she didn't have any brothers. Regardless of that, she was going to become the chief of Motunui, and she wasn't facing opposition. She wasn't even being pressured into marriage. Men and women alike came to her for advice. People understood that her being a woman didn't make her less suitable for her role as chief and that she didn't need a man to rule beside her. Also, Moana's mom didn't die to give her a tragic backstory; I'm glad that we've gotten past the 'mothers are only plot devices' phase. It looks like Disney is finally beginning to understand that having a wonderful prince to love them is not every girl's ultimate wish.

Moana was extremely brave. When she was a child, she enjoyed her grandmother's scary stories, unlike the other children who burst into tears when they heard them. That courage stayed with her when she grew up. Who would have the courage to set out on a mission on the sea by themselves after they've been told terrifying stories about it all their lives? Only an insane Gryffindor like Moana. She was also incredibly strong. Even when Maui trapped her inside a cave, when some coconut pirates stole Te Fiti's heart, when she was alone and defeated by Te Ka, she didn't abandon her mission. Her courage did falter from time to time, but she always kept going. 

I love stories set in the sea because being alone in the sea forces people to pause reflect on themselves, and that allows people to grow personally. Also, this might be controversial, but I liked the role that they gave the ocean. The ocean chose Moana to return Te Fiti's heart and to redeem Maui since she was little. It waited patiently until Moana was ready to set on her mission, and it allowed her to choose whether she wanted to go. Then, the ocean helped her. When a storm came, resulting in a shipwreck, and Moana thought the ocean had betrayed her, she noticed that it took her to Maui. That's an awfully important detail because that often happens to us, humans. We don't know what God is doing and it seems like He has abandoned us when He has actually been with us the whole time and knows that He's doing. We should learn to trust God because at the end He will take us where we need to go. 

This movie also taught me that destiny isn't everything. Moana's destiny was basically saving humanity, but she was allowed to choose whether she wanted to follow her destiny or not. She is given many chances to give up throughout the whole movie. Sometimes, the idea of destiny isn't that pleasant. We don't want to be forced into doing something great because we are afraid to fail or because we simply don't want to do it. The truth is that destiny is a choice, and we only follow it if we want to. You shouldn't be pressured into doing something because it's your 'destiny,' but you shouldn't be afraid of it either. Everything will be fine at the end. Seize your destiny.

Maui was also a very important character. Maui was abandoned by his parents as a child, but he was rescued by gods that knew his true potential. This teaches us that some people who society deems as useless are actually very valuable. God takes those outcasts and shows them their worth. 

Maui struggled with insecurity throughout his life. He believed that by giving humans everything they asked for he would be loved by them. The problem is that humans are never satisfied, and they will always ask for more. Maui did everything to try to please them; he even sacrificed his own life when they asked him for Te Fiti's heart. When the humans noticed that asking him for the heart was a mistake, they blamed him, making him feel even worse. His desire for admiration was rooted in a deep insecurity that also manifested itself by his need for his hook. Maui thought that without his hook he was no one, but the truth is his worth wasn't defined by what he had; it was defined by who he was. A person is worthy simply because they are a person and not because of anything they have or achieve. 

The plot twist at the end of the movie conveyed a lot of meaning about a person's worth. Some people are treated poorly and told that they are a failure and worthless throughout their lives. After a while, they start to believe it. They grow mean and bitter and start making other people suffer. This same thing happened to Te Fiti. When her heart was stolen, she got furious and tried to take revenge on the humans by slowly destroying Earth. Humans ran away from her and feared her instead of apologizing and helping her, and that made the problem worse. Until Moana gave her her heart back and reminded her that that was not who she was, things changed. By remembering who we are, humans who are worthy of love, we will start to treat people with love too. 

Don't worry, I won't leave without addressing the elephant in the room: cultural differences. Moana's spiritual content bothered many Christians: the gods, goddesses, reincarnation, the ocean, and magic. First of all, watching a movie with mythology won't hurt your child's faith. If you're bothered by that fact you probably force them to go to Sunday school every week, so what they should believe must be very clear to them by now. We all know that most of the things we see in Disney movies are fictional, and if you say that to your child they'll believe you. News flash: not every culture's religion is Christianity. How do you expect the people of Motunui to know about Christianity if no one had told them about Jesus? Even now, some people haven't even heard about Jesus. Historically, people have always had the need to know how the Universe and humanity came to be, and the story of Te Fiti is just the people of Motunui's explanation. Cultures are different, not everyone is Western and white (not even Jesus), and that is not a bad thing. Deal with it. 

Before I end this, I would like to say a few minor things. I didn't like this movie's soundtrack very much, even though I loved How Far I'll Go (I love Alessia Cara). I thought that Disney throwing shade at themselves was pretty funny, like when Moana's grandma said she acted weirdly because that was what the village's crazy lady had to do and when Maui told Moana to not burst into song. Sebastian's revenge was funny too.

Overall, Moana was an excellent movie, even though it had some small setbacks. I would definitely recommend it. 

Love, 

Nan.