I dreamed of driving a pink sports car to its maximum speed. I sensed rather saw my car gliding on the road that reflected like a glass. I dreamed of sunshine around me and I dreamed of speed which carried me to the oblivion.

I watered the garden, and picked some strawberries
They came early this year
I closed my eyes and saw your smile

What is the sound of ache?

The apartment is empty

I watched a little TV then cooked dinner
I ate quietly
Your heartbeat still sounded in my ears

Your shadow still casts on the wall

My skin smells of your perfume

I can't sleep so I write this
I pour myself another rum
But I taste the wine from your lips

The pillow is warm from where your head lay

I love you here with me

I cry when you leave. Come back soon.

Noah

I have a trip planned for Toronto. I would go for the 17th and be home on the 21st. I would meet up with one man for two hours on the 18th and make 300, before going to a Madonna concert and staying in the Hazelton with another. Then on the 20th I would fly to Vancouver where I would meet another man and then take the ferry on the 21st home... where I have no home.

I know how I got here, and I find myself thinking over and over, "What the hell did I do to deserve this."

I have found myself at the mercy of those around me. Not a situation I am comfortable with. I have lost friends this year, lost "love", and lost my sense of self. I have been forced into laughing off all these tragedies in the hopes of not burning bridges. I appear to be something of a pyro as I cannot seem to stop all this destruction. I am young, and intelligent. I should be going home to Prince George and rebuilding myself. I can't stop clinging to this pile of rubble though as I'm haunted by how it once gleamed. The flames burn bright sometimes and look beautiful but they always leave me scorned, ashamed, embarrassed.

I feel so stupid about who I am and how my immature heart has only just begun to heal from it's first love. It has taken so much cruelty to get me over it, but it was needed, as I fell so deep into it. I can't deal with any of this anymore. Not tonight. Benevolence.

I close my eyes and tell myself that all the words and memories mean nothing. With every breath I try to blow it off. And with my feet firmly planted on the ground I suppress my love.

Mehr als 40.000 der 50.000 in Paraguay lebenden Indianer haben die größte Dornenbusch-Savanne Südamerikas als ihr Zuhause gewählt. Sie leben dort schon seit Urzeiten oder sind vor vielen Jahren aus anderen Teilen Südamerikas dorthin ausgewandert. Die zwei größten Stämme im zum Teil lebensfeindlichen Chaco sind mit je 12.000 Indianern die Nivaclé und die Enlhet. Ein anderer mit 2.000 Indianern weitaus kleinerer Stamm, der im nördlichen Chaco an der Grenze zu Bolivien lebt, ist der der Guaraní-Ñandeva.

Die Guaraní
Die Guaraní sind zweifelsohne die bekannsten Indianer Paraguays. Ihre Sprache ist heute neben Spanisch zweite offizielle Landessprache, und auch die Landeswährung Paraguays heißt Guaraní. Das Wort „Guaraní“ bedeutet in der Übersetzung „Krieger“, und kriegerisch waren sie einst, die Guaraní, die vor mehr als 500 Jahren von den Inka-Truppen besiegt und unterworfen wurden. Heutzutage ist der Stamm der Guaraní in drei unterschiedliche Gruppen gespilttet: In die im Chaco lebenden Guaraní-Ñandeva sowie in die im Osten Paraguays an der Grenze zu Brasilien lebenden Avá-Guaraní sowie Mby-á-Guaraní.

Bereits vor Ankunft der spanischen Eroberer existierten im heutigen Paraguay indianische Straßennetze – angelegt von den Guaraní-Indianern. Die Bezeichnung der heute meist in Vergessenheit geratenen Wege und Pfade lautet „Tapé Avirú“, was sich in etwa mit „gemütlicher Weg“ übersetzen lässt. Wo genau entlang die alten Pfade der Guaraní geführt haben, ist heute nicht mehr bekannt, sicher aber ist, dass sie von den Iguazú-Wasserfällen, die heute zu Brasilien und Argentinien gehören, durch die Berge von Ybytyruzú ins Landesinnere von Paraguay bis hin zum Cerro Yaguarón, was soviel wie „großer weißer Hund“ bedeutet, führten. Bis heute gibt es entlang dieser Wege noch immer unentschlüsselte Felsmalereien und Steininschriften, so z.B. bei Itá Letra, was in der Sprache der Guaraní für „Stein“ und „Inschrift“ steht, im Ybytyruzú Gebirge und bei Cordillera Amambay im Nationalpark Cerro Cora an der Grenze zu Brasilien. Ob die Inschriften tatsächlich von Indianern stammen, ist bis heute nicht geklärt – vielfach wird spekuliert, dass es sich bei den gefundenen Felsmalereien um die von Wikingern oder Phöniziern handeln könnte! Das jedoch würde bedeuten, man müsste die Geschichtsbücher umschreiben, denn dann war Kolumbus nicht der Erste, der Südamerika entdeckt hat! Doch das ist ein anderes Thema ...

Ende des 16. Jahrhunderts, knapp 100 Jahre nach der „offiziellen“ Entdeckung Südamerikas durch Kolumbus, kamen die Jesuiten in das Gebiet des heutigen Paraguay. Im Laufe der Zeit gründeten sie in Paraguay, Argentinien und Brasilien insgesamt mehr als 30 Reduktionen, in denen sie zusammen mit jeweils 4.000 bis 10.000 Indianern lebten. 1767 wurde der Jesuiten-Ordens vom Papst aufgehoben und vom spanischen König Carlos III. gewaltsam zerschlagen. In den Jesuiten-Reduktionen, die vor allem auch einen Schutz vor den regelmäßig ins Land einfallenden brasilianischen Sklavenjägern, den sog. Mameluken, darstellten, entwickelten die Indianer im Laufe der Jahre ein ausgesprochen ausgefeiltes kunsthandwerkliches Geschick. Wie sich herausstellte, waren sie nicht nur talentierte Steinmetze, Holzschnitzer und Schmiede, sie beherrschten zudem die Kunst der Ziegelbrennerei, der Glockengießerei, Weberei, sowie der Leder- und Silberverarbeitung. Zu welchen Leistungen die Guaraní-Indianer seinerzeit bereits fähig waren, belegen die von der UNESCO zum Weltkulturerbe erklärten Ruinen von Trinidad del Paraná (1706) und Jesús de Tabarangué (1685) im Süden Paraguays heute noch sehr eindrucksvoll!

Die Aché
Ein Stamm, der neben den Guaraní im Osten Paraguays nahe der Grenze zu Brasilien lebt, ist der der Aché. Die Aché-Indianer haben lange Zeit, ähnlich den Guaraní, wild gelebt, wurden in den 1970er Jahren jedoch vielfach verfolgt und fast ausgerottet. Aus diesem Grund leben die Aché heute noch sehr zurückgezogen. Um ihren urtümlichen Lebensstil beibehalten zu können, haben sie die Erlaubnis vom paraguayischen Staat, in ihrem Lebensraum jagen und fischen zu dürfen. Gejagt wird vor allem mit Pfeil und Bogen – auch heute noch. Beutetiere sind Tapire, Kapuziner-Äffchen, Waschbären, Hirsche, Gürteltiere und Eidechsen. Dazu kommen wilder Honig und Insektenlarven. Die Aché jagen in Gruppen. Die Jäger ziehen zusammen los, teilen sich auf, gehen aber nur soweit auseinander, dass sie sich jederzeit durch Rufen oder Pfeifen miteinander verständigen können. Äxte verwenden die Aché nicht zum Jagen – mit ihnen werden vor allem Bäume geschlagen. Die Aché sind eng verwandt mit den paraguayischen Guaraní-Indianern. Auch wenn die Aché schon früher, zur Zeit ihrer Entdeckung im 16. Jahrhundert durch die Jesuiten, als weitgehend friedlich eingestuft wurden, waren sie schon damals als Kannibalen bekannt. Die Aché leben in kleine mit eigenem Dialekt sprechende Gruppen aufgeteilt. Ihre Lebensweise galt und gilt auch heute noch als extrem einfach. Die ersten Aufzeichnungen zu den Aché stammen aus dem 16. Jahrhundert. Wirklich „befriedet“ wurde der Stamm jedoch erst in den 1960er Jahren. Bis dahin waren die Aché Paraguays letzte große Gruppe von Indianern, die noch keinen Kontakt zur Außenwelt hatten.

Die Ayoreo
Die Ayoreo leben in viele unterschiedlich aufgeteilte Unterstämme im nördlichen Chaco an der Grenze zu Bolivien und Brasilien. Der meistisolierte ist der Stamm der Ayoreo-Totobiegosode, was soviel wie „Leute im Land des wilden Schweins“ bedeutet. Noch heute gibt es Ayoreo-Gruppen, die überhaupt keinen Kontakt zur Zivilisation haben. Das erste Mal überhaupt in Kontakt mit dem „weißen Mann“ kamen die Ayoreo erst in den 1940er und 1950er Jahren, als die Mennoniten, ausgewandert aus Europa, den Chaco besiedelten. Damals kam es wegen territorialer Ansprüche zu Kämpfen und Toten auf beiden Seiten. Noch heute jagen die Ayoreo in den Wäldern des Chaco, um sich zu ernähren. Dabei benutzen sie beinahe primitiv wirkende, kleine, aber sehr stabile Holzspeere. Mit diesen töten sie „Pekaris“, eine Art Wildschwein, dass extrem agressiv und angriffslustig ist. Gejagt wird in Gruppen. Die Jäger provizieren das Pekari, so dass es auf einen von ihnen losgeht. Beim Angriff auf den Jäger spießt sich das Wildschwein dann quasi selbst auf, wenn es in den Speer hineinrennt. Ist das Pekari erst einmal verwundet, stürmen die anderen Jäger herbei, und erledigen den Rest. Eine nicht ungefährliche Art zu jagen, bei der es häufig auch zu tödlichen Unfällen auf Seiten der Jäger kommt. Neben den Pekaris, wildem Honig und Insektenlarven, stehen bei den Ayoreo vor allem auch die im Chaco häufig vorkommenden Riesenschildkröten auf dem Speiseplan. Bei den Ayoreo teilen sich jeweils vier oder fünf Familien zusammen eine Hütte. Die Hütten sind aus Holz und Lehm gebaut, drinnen schlafen tun die Ayoreo allerdings nur, wenn es regnet. Das wichtigste Ritual der Ayoreo ist seit Urgedenken das zum Beginn der Regenzeit. Der erste zu hörende Schrei der Nachtschwalbe läutet eine einen ganzen Monat lang dauernde Zeremonie ein. Lange Zeit waren die Ayoreo wegen ihrer Wildheit gefürchtet. Heute leben sie sehr zurückgezogen in den Wäldern des Nord-Chaco. Bis heute gibt es im Gebiet um den Cerro León herum noch vereinzelte Stammesgruppen, die ohne Kontakt nach außen hin leben. Im August 2007 wurden im Ayoreo-Gebiet zudem frische Fußspuren und noch glühende Kochstellen in einem bislang unberührten Waldgebiet gefunden – Hinweise auf einen noch unentdeckt lebenden Indianerstamm.

Die Yshir
Drei Kilometer südlich von Bahia Negra, dem letzten größeren Ort im nördlichen Chaco, liegt Puerto Diana, das Dorf der Yshir. Die Yshir leben unter extremen Bedingungen im heißen, trockenen Nord-Chaco direkt an der Grenze zu Brasilien und dem riesigen Sumpfgebiet Pantanal. Temperaturen von weit über 40 Grad sind hier keine Seltenheit. Der Pantanal ist das weltweit größte Feuchtgebiet, das in regelmäßigen Abständen überflutet wird. In der Zeit von Dezember bis Mai kann diese Region z.B. nur mit einem Boot erreicht werden. Dafür kommen im Pantanal auf jeden Quadratkilometer mehr verschiedene Tierarten als in irgendeiner anderen Region der Welt! Vor allem Vögel sind hier zu Hause, darunter der größte Storch der Welt, der „Jabiru“. Die Yshir leben in den an Puerto Diana angrenzenden Sümpfe vor allem vom Fischfang, von der Jagd und dem Sammeln von wildem Honig.

Die Chamacoco
10 km südlich von Bahia Negra, in der Region um Puerto La Esperanza, leben die Chamacoco an den Ufern des Río Paraguay. Die letzten gut 2.600 noch lebenden Stammesangehörigen dieses Volkes sind heute wie früher noch immer hervorragende Jäger und Fischer. Von der paraguayischen Regierung verfolgt, vertrieben und immer weiter in den Chaco hinein zurückgetrieben, haben sich die Chamacoco seit den 1980er Jahren vor allem auf die Herstellung und Verarbeitung von Wildtierfellen spezialisiert.

Die Nivaclé
„Nivaclé“ bedeutet in der Sprache der Indianer soviel wie „Mann“. Die Nivaclé sind mit fast 12.000 Indianern heute der größte Stamm im Chaco. Bis vor 50 Jahren lebten die Nivaclé noch als Halbnomaden in großen Familienverbänden, die ihre Quartiere, sprich ihre Grashütten, immer in Nähe der wichtigsten Nahrungsquelle aufgebaut haben. Heute leben die Nivaclé im südlichen Chaco an den Ufern des Flusses Pilcomayo hauptsächlich vom Fischfang und dem Sammeln von Waldfrüchten und Honig. Jagen tun sie, wie andere paraguayische Indianerstämme noch immer, heutzutage nicht mehr. Dafür schaffen sie sich durch Brandrodung kleine Flächen, auf denen sie Mais und Paraguays Hauptnahrungsmittel Manioka anbauen. Seit jeher haben die Nivaclé großes Geschick in der Herstellung ihrer Handwerkskunst bewiesen. So sind die Nivaclé-Männer geschickte Holzschnitzer. Für ihre feinen Holzschnitzereien verwenden sie vor allem kleine Äste des im Chaco wachsenden Palosantobaumes, die sie beim Brennholz suchen finden. Für die Herstellung ihrer Holzschnitzerein verwenden die Nivaclé meist einfachste, oft fast schon primitiv wirkende Werkzeuge. Die Nivaclé-Frauen sind ausgezeichnete Weberinnen. Sie stellen hochwertig verarbeitete Ponchos, Decken und Wandschmuck aus Schafwolle her – alles in Handarbeit. Die Fasern für die Muster der Stoffe werden dabei aus den Blättern der Caraguatá-Pflanze gewonnen. Die Farben werden ebenfalls aus Pflanzen hergestellt: der Blauton z.B. wird aus der Rinde des Carupaybaumes gewonnen, das Harz des Johannisbrotbaumes liefert braune, graue und schwarze Töne. Violett stellen die Nivaclé aus den Schoten des Guayacan her, dunkelrot aus den Wurzeln des Algarrobilla. In der Gemeinschaft der Nivaclé gehört alles allen, d.h. individuellen Besitz kennen die Stammesangehörigen nicht.

Die Enlhet
Wie die Nivaclé, besteht auch der Stamm der Enlhet heute noch aus ungefähr 12.000 Indianern. Auch die Enlhet waren einst Jäger und Sammler, die sich vor allem auf die Jagd nach Sumpfhirsche und dem weltgrößten Nagetier, dem „Capybara“-Wasserschwein, spezialisiert haben. Heute, nachdem es große Teile der Wälder im paraguayischen Chaco nicht mehr gibt, reicht die Jagd allein nicht mehr aus, um den ganzen Stamm zu ernähren. So versuchen sich die Enlhet nun im Verkauf ihrer fein gearbeiteten Kunsthandwerke.

Die Toba Qom
Auch die Toba Qom leben im Chaco, direkt an den Ufern des Río Paraguay. Zumindest ca. 1.400 von ihnen – der Rest ihres Stammes lebt in Argentinien. Die Toba Qom sind in einer Hinsicht einzigartig: Sie sind der erste Indianerstamm überhaupt, der keinen männlichen, sondern einen weiblichen Häuptling hat – und davon gleich zwei! Julia Escobar und Maria Domingez sind seit kurzer Zeit Stammesführerinnen der Toba Qom, die hauptsächlich vom Fischfang aus den Teichen im Hinterland des südlichen Chacos und vom Honig sammeln leben.

Andere, die meisten davon vor langer Zeit aus anderen Gebieten in den Chaco eingewanderten, Stämme sind die der Sanapaná, Toba-Maskoy, Guarayo, Angaité und Choroti-Manjuy. Eine Ausnahme unter den im Chaco lebenden Indianerstämmen bilden die Maka – sie sind nicht in den Chaco ein-, sie sind aus dem Chaco ausgewandert.

Die Maka
In der historischen Übersetzung bedeutet Maka soviel wie „eigentlich unseres“. Die Maka wurden 1933 aus dem Chaco in die Nähe von Asunción, nach Villa Hayes, umgesiedelt. Wegen alljährlich wiederkehrender Überschwemmungen der Wohngebiete zogen die Maka 1985 jedoch noch einmal um, und zwar dorthin, wo sie noch heute leben – ins Maka Indianerreservat in Mariano Roque Alonso, nahe der Remansobrücke. Haupteinnahmequelle der Maka, die sich traditionell von der Jagd ernährt haben, ist heute der Verkauf von Souvenirs. Doch reicht der Verkauf von Souvenirs nicht immer aus – viele der 1.000 bis 1.200 im Reservat lebenden Familien sind bettelarm. Können die Indianerfrauen einen Tag keine Souvenirs verkaufen, reicht es meist nicht mal mehr für die Busfahrt zurück ins Reservat. Die Frauen übernachten dann irgendwo im Freien in der Stadt, und die Familie zu Hause bekommt an diesem Tag kein Abendessen. Die Maka geben ihr Wissen um Web- und Flechttechniken auch heute noch von Generation zu Generation weiter, auch wenn der Großteil des Materials für die Souvenirs mittlerweile industriell gefertigt wird. Das Maka Reservat ist 12 ha groß. Häuser aus Stein gibt es nur drei: Die Schule, das Kulturhaus, das 2001 von der japanischen Regierung gespendet wurde, und das Haus des Häuptlings. Dem Häuptling unterstehen noch heute alle in Paraguay lebenden Maka. Wurde das Häuptlingsrecht seit jeher weitervererbt, wird der nächste Häuptling zum ersten Mal frei gewählt. Grund: Der aktuelle Häuptling Andres hat zwar drei Kinder, doch alles Töchter, keinen Sohn. In der Schule der Maka werden derzeit 270 Kinder unterrichtet, darunter auch eine Hand voll Nichtstammesangehöriger. 16 Lehrer, 6 davon sind selbst Maka, unterrichten hier die eigene Stammessprache, Spanisch und Guaraní. Keine leichte Aufgabe, denn weil viele Kinder unterernährt sind, fällt es ihnen oft schwer, dem Unterricht zu folgen und zu lernen. Überhaupt fehlt es im Reservat der Maka an Einigem. Und die Maka gehören schon zu den bestorganisierten Indianerstämmen des Landes. Tische oder Stühle gibt es kaum, gekocht wird für alle in großen Töpfen auf offenem Feuer. Zubereitet werden neben Hauptnahrungsmittel Manioka vor allem Rinderköpfe und Pansen – sicherlich ein eindeutiges Zeichen dafür, wie es um die finanzielle Situation der Indianer bestellt ist. In einem Raum leben oft bis zu 20 Personen gleichzeitig. Duschen gibt es nur wenige provisorische. Leere Plastikflaschen sind wertvolle Spielzeuge für die Kinder. Trotzdem erhalten sich die Maka ihre Lebensfreude. So spielen die Mädchen liebend gerne Volleyball, und die Jungs „Wijukal“, ein Spiel, bei dem je 2 dunkle und 2 helle Stücke Holz, die wie eine Art Würfel fungieren, zu Boden geworfen werden. Will man das Indianerreservat besuchen, wird man herzlich empfangen. Fotos können gegen Bezahlung gemacht werden. Jedes Bild kostet jedoch je nach Anzahl der darauf abgelichteten Indianer. In Stammestracht kosten Bilder noch ein wenig mehr. Für die Indianer gibt es drei wichtige Feste, bei der sie ihre Stammestracht anziehen, feiern – und sich sogar kostenlos fotografieren lassen: Am Tag der Indianer, am Tag der Rassen und zum Geburtstag des Häuptlings. Die bei derartigen Festen aufgeführten traditionellen Tänze sind das Erbe der Vorfahren der Maka und haben eine tiefe religiöse Bedeutung. Die Gesänge z.B. symbolisieren das „Flüstern des Waldes“, den „Schrei eines Vogels“ und das „Krachen des Donners“.

How does it matter how you spend your time? Through some productive mindset, instituted by means of the 'Western Tradition', we are judged for worth based upon what we provide to our societies. We shape what is normal everyday, and somehow, every single day, 'production' remains in such high value. Whether it be quality or quantity, an object or a service, it is produced by you and then critiqued by others.

Could you really make a 'free' work? Free from the influence of the many others' others and things, ideas and concepts, whatever it is that is out there. It would rise like spout of oil in the desert, an untapped reserve of original craft, to be sought by the many disillusioned with their poorly suited reality. This is the mark of 'high art' expanded into the human action.

Think about a movie, a TV show, even a drama or a musical. These things are supposed to have memorable effects on those whose observe it. They are not judged to be lacking in quality because of...

This is getting bloody dreadful. My eyelids are slowly clinching, harder and stronger towards one another, each simultaneously fighting for the return of its partner. Focus begins to shift gears, training itself for a strained perception of the present world.

Tiny pods hatch on the back of your head. Out emerges from each a tiny parade of blind mole men. They stumble about, back in forth, to some unknown tune, barely audible, certainly incoherent, towards a greater center. A small army gathers in position, ready for action, on a minutes notice.

There is this poem that I found a few days ago and have put it on a wall as a constant reminder...

--In--

Happy moments, praise God

Difficult moments, seek God

Quiet moments, worship God

Painful moments, trust God

Every moment, thank God

Each day I look at those lines a few times to remind myself that I am not alone. I am not fighting my battles alone, and I am not existing alone. It remind me to stay strong, positive, and to not give up. I take it one day at a time. I wake up and go through my day...some days are better than others but I am finding and creating myself each day. I learn something new, am reminded of something old, and close my eyes praying for my dreams to be happy and that I will get the chance to wake up again tomorrow.

Dear God:

I am sorry for doubting you, not trusting you, and for trying to do things all on my own. I am sorry for not believing in your love towards me. I am sorry for thinking that yo had abandoned me and left me at the feet of this world. Most of all I am sorry for not being more thankful for your love, blessings, and the many things you have given me in this life.

Thank you for loving me always even when I am unworthy of your love. Thank you for being my strength when the world seems to be crumbling around me, Thank you for my family who have are my earth angels. Thank you for the friends that have taken me as I am and asked no more of me than to be myself. Thank you for my life. That I can wake up everyday, go to school, dream about a beautiful future, that I am healthy and able. Thank you Lord for my opportunities, my experiences, the lessons I have learned, and the people I have met.

I don't know when it was that my faith in you began to diminish and the doubt became my constant companion. I blamed you for my sadness and my pain. I am truly sorry for that because I should be thanking you for keeping me safe and out of danger. Thank you for these experiences that have shaped me into a wiser, stronger, and better person. Thank you Lord. It is hard to say what I am thankful for but Lord it is everything. I am thankful to you for everything.

Stay by my side. I need you there and want you there. I trust my life to you Lord. I leave my path in your hands. I leave my journey in your decisions. Lord, show me the path that is mine to follow and I will walk along it. I have faith in my and yes, I might not agree but I trust that my destination is known to you and you are guiding me along the path.

I will be graduating in May 2009 from this chapter of my life and I entrust my future chapters to you. You know my heart's desires and I pray that they will and can come true. I pray that you let show me if I am going to right way and choosing the right steps.

Thank you Lord for your love towards my existence. I trust you, I have faith in you, I believe in you. I know life is not easy and my journey will have its obstacles but I also know that you will be with me each step of the way so I am not afraid.

I pray that we meet in Heaven and I can be embraced by you. I want to be at your side...let my life lead me to you. Thank you Lord please stay with me no matter what happens.

The second part examines literature from Africa and the African diaspora in order to point out how deeply the concept is ingrained within the African imagination.  The texts she examines become occasions to study and praise the aje.

The first part of the book is imply invaluable and provides readers with an all-too-rare glimpse into women's spiritual socieites in Africa.  Washington's knowledge of the topic is broad and shows signs of not just broad reading habits, but also of signs spent with spiritual elders.  Wisdom and knowledge are at work in these pages.

She develops much of her account by establishing the relationship between aje (woman, witch power and those who wield it) with ache (the vital forces that circulate through the world).  Her discussion of the three sorts of ache (black, red, white) and their relationship to each other as well as their role in the ecology of spirit are one of the better discussions of the topic that I have found in print.  That alone makes the book worth reading.

Moreover, in examining the concept in the diaspora, she provides us with a bright example of the flexibility and resiliency of spiritual forces.  She traces out the continued presence of wisdom, of techne, for working with the different forms of ache throughout the diaspora, suggesting a deep conceptual unity for them that belies the many surface differences. 

Her discussion of hoodoo, for example, cast the practice in a new light for me.  It has been easy for me to see it as a very jangly, broken tangle of spiritual practices reduced to mere magic (a la Roger Bastide's account of some folk magic in Brazil), but with Washington's illumination, I could see it instead as a living and reflective re-elaboration of African principles in a new context. 

In other words, she treats those hoodoo women (and men) as mindful agents of their own destiny rather than as mere victims making do with what broken bits remain to them.  While she may overstate her case, giving it perhaps too much unity, the overstatement itself is not without its place.  The victim model has been so thoroughly entrenched, that we need to have its opposite stated loudly.

The implicit praise of innovation according to old wisdom stands out to me in this work.  To make that more clearly, to see that elaborated in discussions of religion more broadly, is something sorely needed among spiritual and scholarly communities alike.  Her examination of Zora Neal Hurston's autobiographical-ethnographical work, in particular, made for stimulating reading.  She portrays a world in which spirit and daily life are tightly wound and of how to talk about both in a way that makes clear that intimacy.

All this had me enthusiastically looking toward the second section which, unfortunately, left me a bit cold.  The readings of specific texts, like Morrison's Beloved, seemed formulaic.  She tended to single out the characters she considered as having aje and being aje and then proceed to tally up how they did and did not live up to that ideal. 

It felt a a little abstract, top-down and scholastic, in its analysis, like little that was examined in the stories she studied were going to change how she viewed aje substantially.  Similarly, sometimes it felt like she was reading the texts a little too selectively, de-emphasizing their narrative complexity in order to force them to suit her present interest in discussing the aje.

Still, even amidst those readings, there are flashes of insight and wisdom that make the journey through them worthwhile.

I'm sorry, I just feel like murdering you all.
YES, I SAID IT.
I'M ABOUT READY TO BRING OUT THE SHOTGUN AND JUST BAM BAM BANG BANG BANG YOU ALL DEAD.
Don't ask.  
For I don't know.  Just am.  That's the story of my life, it seems.
I have a killer headache for unknown reasons, and this weird ache in my side, near my hip, which is weird.  Had a few weird aches in that general area, on the other side, then some in my chest, it's like damn, I'm broken and I don't know what from what.  
And you know what, life just sucks.  Okay?

Someone bring on the pain-killers......

air undulating

like waves

lapping

rhythmic sweeps

liquid tongue

upon grainy bits

sand encrusted

toes, feet

she stands still

quelling her own breath

shhh do not stir

no quiver

shall wake

her beloved

bluebeard's oblivion

upon scheherazade's

tender

sweet

aching

cradling

breast

you can never be mine.. i know it deep in my heart.. cos now you belong to [her]..

but u said u love me.. and u want me.. why aren't u trying to feel what i am feeling? i don expect you to be with me.. i know we are not meant to be.. but why are u so insensitive?

telling me your dates with her, telling me your joys with her.. i am smiling and feeling joy for you on the surface.. but do you know how hurt i am and how my heart is bleeding?

i am here trying to be strong.. my defense are breaking.. i wanted to let go.. but you keep pulling me back.. holding me with your tenderness, your kisses, your hugs, your pleading eyes.. i know you love two.. i am willing to let go.. why cant you let go of me..

where is the determination i seek.. where is the courage i always thought i had? here i am missing you, crying that i can't have u.. i have given you my all, but i don even have a part of you.. and there you are kissing [her] in front of me.. like nothing happened between us.. what is this? how do you suppose i should react? do you know how hard it is to smile like normal? do you know how pain my heart feels?

i am tired of all these pain.. i must seek my determination and courage.. and finally let go of you.. when will the time comes?

here i am feeling guilty of what i have done.. i just wish the rain can wash away all my sins.. let me melt to the earth..

我渴望的不多, 我只想你在我身边, 想想我的感受, 很难吗?

Was this tooth protesting the fact that I was going to the dentist?

Anyways, this  morning I went to a dentist in the neighboorhood. Before, we went to a dentist a couple of cities further on, because Lenore thought that guy was great. But this one, who lives about 1 mile from my home, is also excellent. Although he told me to take more care he never judged me.
Anyway... the molar tooth has now been fired, layed of, extracted, gone... And I immediately made an appointment for the reconstruction of those two broken teeth...

Time to start caring again...

I am thankful for this gift and passion that was granted to me. Everyone has something that releases them from the confines of this world. For me it has always been my ability to write, to convey the essence of me on paper as opposed to speaking. When I speak there is not enough time to say all that is inside of me. The words come out but it is not with the same momentum.

It's the same with music, it speaks to me in a way that regular speech never could. It evokes a response from me and it gives me that warmth. comfort, and understanding that I can never find with people. Therefore, I am thankful for music and my ability to write.

I only wish that as I get older, wiser, have more experiences my writing improves. I'll share with you a dream I have. One day I would like to publish a book of poetry, short stories, or one of each. I want to inspire people and give them that sense that they are not alone. That someone has had those thoughts and experiences. Although, they might not be the same exact story, we still have that common ground.

I am aching to write and whatever comes after this sentence is up to you to explore. I share my life because I have realized that it can help another. This is my last year of college and in two weeks I will be 21 years old. Is being 21 that big of a deal? Like most things it depends. Of course you are legal to drink and go clubbing, but for the most part those are unimportant things to me. I feel like at 21 I should have things figured out. For example, I should know my purpose, where I am heading, who I am...right? Nope! I am going to be 21 years old and although I know somewhat of my purpose, where I am heading, and who I am...but I have more questions than answers.

I don't think time or age is really the path that will lead me to those answers. I feel that it is the experiences that we have that age us, stretch us, and ultimately give us those answers to those questions. I still have a lot of experiences coming my way. I still have choices, decisions, and obstacles to face that will lead me to or take me back to where I belong. It has taken me a long time to come to terms with that. I have am an introspective person so I self-reflect a lot which leads me to criticize a lot. I am trying my best to let go of all those questions and from seeking all those answers. A friend told me to let it go because no matter how much you think about it, question it, or seek it; it will not appear to you until it is supposed to. It is hard to wrap my mind on the lack of control I have on aspects of my life. I like to be in control and I am learning that sometimes being in control means handing over the reigns.

I am learning that I don't have to be/act like a grown up yet. Just because I am 21 does not mean my life should be intact or that I have to be an "adult." For me, I feel that being 21 means that I will have closed one chapter of my life since I will be graduating come May and I have an opportunity to begin a new chapter. I have the opportunity to make those choices that will ripple into my future. I have more experiences, revelations, and mistakes to make and even then there is not stopping point in life that says you have to have it all together. No matter how old we all get, we are never going to be perfect. Instead we will be human. I always try to be perfect and that means not making any mistakes. It is like I forgot the need for mistakes. We need them to teach us something. Mistakes are learning experiences that we must have. They teach us what we already knew, what we never knew, they reinstall in us the values we had and give us ones we always needed.

Trying to be perfect made me miserable because perfection has no place in reality. Humans will never be perfect....I will never be perfect. Perfection is undefinable because everyone has their own definition. It is liberating when you realize that you can't/don't have to be perfect. I am flawed, a mess, a jumble of craziness, and unique because there is only one of me. Hehe....it was so hard to admit to myself that I was flawed but now I realize being flawed doesn't mean I am horrible...it means I am a human being. It means that my flaws are what makes me stand out just as much as my gift. I am quirky and that is okay with me.

I don't know if it is the fact that I am graduating or that I am getting older that is making me open my eyes and take a good look at my life and myself. Of course, there are still things I am not ready or willing to see or admit, but in time I believe I will. I feel less weighed down by this world or my thoughts. I feel that I am getting closer to my bright future. I feel a sense of happiness and peace within my soul. It is not complete but it has substance.

My canvas is finally beginning to show hints of color and it makes me smile. You know what else makes me smile? Not walking on egg shells, not letting my fears keep me from trying, and not letting people get away with treating me less than I deserve. When I said not walking on eggshells I meant not trying to appease everyone. As the middle child I have always been a peacemaker and never a doormat, but sometimes it would feel like I was heading towards doormat status but I am not going to. I am not going to let people do as they please and let me face the consequences. I am not going to keep giving to those that only take from me. I am going to want and expect and hope because I can and I should.

Fear is the absolute evil of existence. Fear has held me back so much in my life and my time in college. It is only now that I am beginning to overcome some of those fears. Each baby step I take makes me feel powerful. It is not easy, but nothing that has ever been truly meaningful is easy. I am doing my best to just live and cut away all those strings that hold me down. I will acknowledge my fears, but I will not let them define me, or hold me back. It is a constant battle but I am trying my hardest to live my life truly and fully so that when I close my eyes for the last time the regrets are minimum.

As for people, you learn who your true friends are with time and experiences. I have learned what it means to be and have a true friend and what it means to not. It hurts to lose someone because for me they have taken a piece of my soul with them and I can never get it back. You can never get back the time you spent on that relationship.friendship but you can learn from it and grow through it. In my college years I have lost two friends that I valued both times I did not know the reason behind it. Was it that our time was up? Did we drift apart? Or was it never meant to be?

Whatever the reason, it hurt and it still hurts. Friends are like family to me, I cherish, respect, trust, and am vulnerable towards them. So when I lose them it is like losing family. It hurts even more when you don't know the reason for  it...which usually leads me to blame myself. Why is it that I see myself as the cause of discord? I think my past has a lot to do with that, but that story is for another time. I am learning not to blame myself or take responsibility when I know in my heart I did my part as a friend and they didn't. I think through losing friends you learn to value the ones you have even more. I have discovered those true friends and it has enriched my existence. Some more than others, but they have shaped and stretched me to be me. They don't try to make me into something I am not. They love me and accept me and that makes my life beautiful. I know that live would not be living without them. I have always believed that the quality of friends is far greater than the quantity of them. I will always believe that. A person's character is what attracts me to them and what keeps me with them.

I am learning that as much as you want someone you sometimes have to let them walk away and watch if they turn around. I refuse to chase anyone or to be led by anyone. I refuse to be treated like I am expendable. I refuse to allow people to walk in and out of my life as they please. With that I refuse to be treated in a way that is less than I deserve. It is hard letting people go, but you and I have to do what is best for us. You and I have to find people that encourage us and not knock us down, appreciate us instead of misusing us, love us and not hurt us. I am not going to settle for a relationship, friendship that is as strong as  leave in the midst of a hurricane. I am looking for that substance and meaning in our friendship and I will not let myself succumb to superficial bullshit.

Life is too short for that kind of facade. I want people around me who I will know for years and we will grow closer as time and experiences allow. Finding those friends is not an easy task. I think about the ones I have and it comes down to those moments when you let someone see you, your weakness, uniqueness, beauty, flaws, and they acknowledge yours while sharing theirs. It is those experiences we have that brings us closer and stronger together. You can find your soul mate in one of them and have their's reflected through you. I used to think life gives you one soulmate but not anymore. Your soul mates come in al shapes and sizes and you will recognize them because the shine brightly in your life.

I am still growing and learning but my mind has opened even more and I have begun to see and realize my essence. What makes me beautiful, passionate, and unique. I am only beginning to see what was already lying inside of me. I don't think the insecurties will ever fade away completely but they will lessen. I am as strong as I allow myself to be.

For those of you out there who feel like the oddball, you are not the only one. I have always felt like the oddball but there is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing wrong with being you and you don't need to justify yourself to anyone. You don't have to give them a reason to be you, to feel how you feel, to know what you know, to love what you love, you don't owe anyone an explanation. My heart goes out to my kindred spirits and I pray for you as I pray for myself. I pray for your greatness, not only that you achieve it but that you see what you have to offer. I pray for your love, that you can share it with those who deserve it. I pray for your happiness, that you find it soon and it covers every aspect of your life. Remember, that you matter. Your life, dreams, soul, and everything in between matters and had meaning. I have not found the specifics on my meaning but I know and believe I exist to help others overcome whatever is holding them back. I exist to make a positive difference and I just have to choose how to do it. Do not ever let yourself doubt the importance of your life the way I did. Life is given to you, use it to better the lives of others.

This chapter in my life will be over in the coming months, but that means I get to begin a new one. I have been through a lot of turbulence in this chapter and things never seem to be completely calm. It doesn't matter. I will take what comes my way with faith, hope, and wisdom. The bad/sad moments will come because life is not always about happiness. Even so, I think I am more able to handle and get through those challenges of life...it is about damn time that I decide to live my life. Like a friend said to me a while back only I can fix me, only I can choose to heal, because no matter what he wants or says it comes down to a choice...my choice.

Sincerely yours,

Tsunamiblues

If I had to make a guess, I would say that stomach cramps are in the top 5 most common medical complaints.  Everyone gets them and we get them more often than other ailments.  There are many reasons why we get them, often times digestion comes into play.

Emetophobia may be a fear of vomiting but it causes us emetophobics to fear anything that could contribute to vomiting including symptoms of food poisoning and stomach viruses.   One such symptom is a stomach ache.  As far as I can remember I have never had a stomach ache prior to vomiting although I have had mild nausea.  However, I still panic when I get cramping even if nausea is not accompanying it.

I’m sure I’m not alone either.  Other emetophobics have had out and out panic attacks at the onset of a stomach ache. 

 If you’re NOT emetophobic and are reading this blog, let me explain how this is debilitating. 

First, consider how often the average person gets a stomach ache/cramp, whether it’s from not eating, eating too much, gas, indigestion, constipation, or they just have to go to the bathroom.  It’s quite often.  Then imagine having a panic attack that includes cold sweats, shaking, deep fear, and heart palpitations every single time they get one.  It’s even worse when we’re not at home or a familiar place when we get one.   

http://fearsandphobias.blogspot.com

If there is one thing I hate it is waiting. I hate people keeping me waiting. I do not have and will never find that patience to just let it go. I don't like broken promises and lateness. Is it a crime for people to keep their word? If you know you might not be able to keep it then don't say you will do it. Is it a crime to expect people to be on time? If you cannot be for reasons beyond your control I can understand that, but if it is just because you like to be late then don't have anything to do with me.

Those are just the surface issues of my frustration. I question existence and life. I hear all the time that suffering makes you stronger, but is that true strength? I have suffered a lot and so has my family but are we truly strong because of it. No we are not, we are standing on hollow strength and if a tempest of a storm comes then we will surely shatter under its power. I don't want to be strong all the time, I want to be able to rely on others strength.

I am full of frustrating right now because when my family hurts I hurt too. When my family is being given the short end of the stick, that means I wallow in that pain too. I ask God, how much longer will life be like this? Where everyday is a battle for survival. Where we are always just making ends meet. How much longer will my mother suffer to provide us with a life. How much longer will her body be broken and her confidence destroyed. How can my sister be suffering like this at 23 years old. She should not have to work this hard, she should not have to stress like this. She is a child and yet she has never gotten to enjoy her youth.

Lord, I pray to you all the time and I have to admit that I wonder if you hear me. Is my voice reaching you? Is my soul near to you? Are you surrounding me or am I standing alone? I need you to see me and hear me. I need you to give us a breakthrough. I am asking you Lord for a miracle. A miracle of happiness and peace. Calm these waters so that we can cross and find a new place...a better place and life must exist for us. I know that each person has their pain, but Lord I am me and this is my family and I am begging you with all that is in me to give us a sign that you are with us. We are losing hope and we are barely making it through each day.

It seems like when everything is finally coming together, it begins to break even more. Why is it Lord that suffering is our daily bread? I see so much and it pains me to watch my family suffer. What did my mother ever do to deserve the cruelness of my father? What did my sibling and I do to deserve a man who is nothing like a father in my eyes. What did my precious mother do so that in all these years she has not met anyone who can sweep away the cobwebs my father left and make her see the beauty of love and life. What did we do so that we were given a father who neither loves or acknowledges us. A father who is like a leech sucking the life out of you till you wither and die. Why? Why? Why?

I ask myself all the time why life is like this. I sometimes think maybe we are a cursed family. Why did I have to grow up in the ugliness of this world? Why did I have to grown up without a childhood? Why did I have to be an adult so soon? Why do I have the burdens at my age. In a few weeks I will be 21 years old. So what? Will life finally settle down? Lord I believe in you, but I am having my doubts.

You see my heart so you know what lies within me and sometimes it scares me. I want to have that hope and that faith but lately I am losing both steadily. I lose hope in this world everyday as the cruelness of it grows deeper. My faith is tested in the wake of all these obstacles. The suffering seems never-ending, and the burdens only seem to grow in weight. Please, Lord I want to know that you are near me. That you are my shield and armor. I want to believe that life gets better, that m family won't always be conflicted.

I want to believe that there is beauty in this world. I want to believe and trust in humanity and the goodness of people. I want to believe that my life has meaning beyond trials and that I will triumph over them all. I want to believe that you have a reason for all of this and it will come to light soon. I am desperate to believe in you but Lord the wounds never heal. My soul is scarred and those wounds are too deep to ever give me peace.

There is so much conflict inside of me because of this life. I look around and the tears flood over because I am so tired of being strong. I cannot be the pillar for my family. I am a child, your child please hold me. I am withering in the agony of those around me. What can I do for them? What can I do with my life to make it better for the people I love. Show me, tell me, guide me and I will do it. I will do anything for them so that their lives can be unburdened. If only I knew what to do, please Lord don't let this world destroy me.

Everyday I wake up and I think of the precious mother that you gave me. I think of her and my heart is heavy. How can one person carry so many burdens. How can one person be punished when she had done nothing to deserve it. The sadness that lingers in her is in me Lord. I am her daughter and I am begging you that before you take her from this world show her the beauty of life. Let me sacrifices lead to greatness. Whether that greatness lies within her children let it be in her life. Let her reap the benefits of what she has sowed.

Suffering has not made me strong. I am that leaf blowing in the wind. Shivering from the coldness and unable to settle calmly on this earth. You gave me this life, let there be a reason for it, and let me live it. My tears are a constant companion and I have become a guarded person. The actions of those before have shaped me into this silhouette of humanity. Do not let my future be defined by these tragedies.

I want to believe that this life has meaning and that my existence is for a purpose more than just the painfulness of living.

things aren't always what a man sees... the hair, the smell, the softness, the sweetness, the innocence, the pleasing ways... ah... but wasn't that just a silly movie, an unreal biased expression of one aggressive woman's (babra's) fancy?... nay, my darling... look beneath and beyond what is there.... beyond the obvious flaws, beneath the crackled gloss...

of course the cookie baking girl is no longer relevant today... nowadays, a modern twist, the hot chick who can give a good fuck... the young sweet ass who never gives a man a headache with too many crazy words, no mood swings, no 'neuroses', not even physical frailty, this hot chick is one who can be fucked hard like a raging bull while standing on her head... ??? .... oh yes, i understand, i am not jealous my dear, i understand much more than u give me credit for...

why? because i love you... and i am woman too, my dear... just a different kind... darling, there are some depths that cannot be seen unless u dive deep... heights u cannot experience unless u dare to fly... and songs u cannot hear unless u reach out to stroke each nuance and colour of the whispering wind... i too can be soft, tender, gentle, pleasing, adoring... and though i posses a fragile body which needs to be treated with care, i too can take u into a garden of sensual pleasures... perhaps even more intense and lingering than u have ever known in ur lifetime of hard fast cunt grinding? ... perhaps, but only perhaps, because u don't wish to find out... u say it is not what u need / want right now... i respect that... and i understand... more than u think i do... much much more than u want to allow me to... though my understanding lies in the unfathomable depths of my soul, unlike ur understanding which is in the clear sparkling planes of ur masculine mind...

but i cannot live under cover of darkness... i cannot breathe in the damp fog of repression... i cannot grow in a bed of lies and deceit... i cannot shut out the songs on wings of a bird, the raging currents inside a tiny mustard seed, the textures of my heart's whispers... it is all me... and a me u do not wish to see, nor want to touch...

yet... i never manipulated or insinuated that u shd love me "in the way i want u to"... u have wrongly accused me... for in my heart, u will always be my gazelle who leaps with lithe grace that causes my loins to burn and rivers to flow with aching yearning... as well as my little blue frog whose out of tune croaking makes me smile despite every other inconsequential confusing distracting thing...

why?... because i love u... in a way that only a woman of my kind can... because i am woman... too... but more... so much more...

right, today is the day i venture forth to the north shore ... i want 'real' beaches untamed by slobbery fat tourists and yelling kids with plastic floats... beaches like those i am used to, those i love, those deeply entrenched in my fond memories... so it's off to ala manoa centre catch TheBus #52... unfortunately, for the next hour or so, reclaiming paradise hit a bumpy road, when a gaggling loud entourage of hongkonger spill aboard the erstwhile serene cabin of the little bus... and the lead-singer of this karaoke band decides to plonk his ugly butt next to me, while directing the rest of his crew to the surrounds... oh damn, my brain freezes when he turns to grin at me and begins chattering... i pretend not to understand cantonese, but undaunted, he launches into a horrible fake american drawl... reminding me of a certain someone with much the same manners and know-it-all fake veneer of 'coolness'... someone whom i'd rather stick into the dredges of my memory... i shrink with horror... last night's recall was bad enough... ugh!... he spreads his legs wide open and dumps a crumpled plastic bag full of their tour rations between his legs... encroaching upon my personal space and pressing against my bared legs... this is too much! i glare at him and say "excuse me!" with my best sarcastic british accent, too no avail, as he merely grinned, said "oh sorry!", made some perfunctory rustling sounds with the offensive bag, but those legs stayed where they were planted... the bus is full, i cannot escape, so i pretend to doze off but the cackling cacophony is driving me crazy... and i finally do indeed doze off into a disturbed nightmare...

aaarrgh! i wake up in time to see haleiwa whizz past... fred did tell me to give this little town a looksee... too bad, i missed it, thanks to mr. hongkong-loudmouth-cool... ah well... que sera... i get off at waimea, pushing past him with vigour and ignoring his disgusting grin...

after that ugliness, the beauty that greeted me was a breath of fresh air, a balm to my offended sensibilities... i didn't even mind when i saw that the so-called quiet beach was chockful of people... it was great to be away from that lot of dogs and geese!... sun's scorching but breeze is great... splash around a bit in the delectable inviting water... haven't really been in the sea for oh too too long... well, this is great, better than nothing hmmm?... after waimea, i hopped back onto a bus and hopped off at a secluded stretch of sand just before sunset beach... a hippy got off with me... i politely declined his friendly offer to share a rather dubious looking mat and set off across the sand in the blazing sun... amazing surf lapping at the shore... not safe for swimming but i was alone and shouldn't take off into the water anyway... i mentally noted that solo travel had great benefits but it failed when one wanted to go water exploring in the sea... safety rules have it that one should never take to open waters alone... and rightfully so... i got back on the trusty bus and off again at sunset beach park... can't help wishing just a little the horrid blue frog were here even if for the artificial one second paradise he offered... sure would love to kiss him in a way i never dared before... no longer balk baring my soul, after what i have put myself through, why should anything daunt this spunky gal anymore?... ah well, tally ho then...

tired and hungry, head out to turtle bay's hilton... off we go, bunny&kitty... best pals... ur... well, we ain't arguing with each other on this trip anyway... turtle bay is great, tiny and less exposed to the riff-raff because of the hilton... well this bunnykitty team indulges in some soft-shell crab on a bed of chinese spinach, a yummy cocktail and mango sherbet, the latter two recommended by da handsome young waiter... mmm delish... the food i mean... mr. waiter is far too young to hit on, my dears... anyway, this gal is done with meaningless trysts... sex without inner passion is like burning rubbish, yeah yeah, real hot it can be, but it emits foul smells into the emotional environment, and you know what air pollution can do to your constitution right?... i am tired of pollution and the effects of it upon my soul... what i want now is a sweet incense to burn... ah, but passion needs sexual expression too... a strong physical wantonness through which passion can flow... which is the only thing i wish i had understood when i had the chance to do so with the only one man i really loved... que sera, it may well be over, i mean shit to him but i can love him regardless cos i still love me...

on the eastern route home, i am freezing in the teeth chattering aircondition despite the light woolen throw i'd brought along... but the view of the north-eastern coastline is powerful, though a little different from the previous beaches... by the time i reach my room, i am exhausted and hungry again... greedy greedy gal... nah-ah, i won't prevent my mind from wandering for a moment again to a certain anatomical structure belonging to a certain delectable creature... and as easily as turning on a gushing tap, my liquid gates begin to flow and throb at the naughty but nice thought of him inside my mouth (and thereafter other places of course, of course)... gosh it would be a nice end to a burning day if i could wrap my tongue around THAT thing now for sure!

good night sweet blue frog, wherever you are, whoever you're with... it won't change a thing, sending you a soft tender feather kiss on your horrid forrid... who says we need to deserve anything good? and who says we need to know it is good? kiss you regardless... kissssssssss sweeeeet.... xxxx

Today I woke up very early [big mistake] and was driven all the way to Liphook, or whatever its called, for a summer party.  It was preety cool considering there was lots of oldie people there but luckily my friends were there. There was this big inflatable slide [woo] which we spent most of our time on top of, singing :D !

I think i have ice cream in my hair...?

Well anyway there was food and stuff but the reason I ache is for having to climb up this massive slide a dozen times and there was nothing to help you up. The steps were about an inch wide which meant you had to  almost tip toe up which hurt the soles of my feet. But the sliding bit was awesome :D !

So anyway I have decided to soak my feet in a bowl of water.

Bye bye  *waves*

Paraguayan Indian named minister

Margarita Mbywangi pledged to serve all indigenous communities

An indigenous woman in Paraguay who says she was sold into forced labor as a girl has been made minister for indigenous affairs.

Margarita Mbywangi, a 46-year-old Ache tribal chief, is the first indigenous person to hold the position.

She has been an activist for many years, defending her tribe's interests.

She was appointed by the new president, Fernando Lugo, who was sworn in on Friday, ending more than 60 years of government by the Colorado Party.

The new president, a former Catholic bishop, seems keen to demonstrate a decisive break with the past, through his ministerial appointments.

'Forced labor'

But some Indian leaders have voiced fears Ms Mbywangi will give preferential treatment to her own tribe.

The mother-of-three promised to meet those who opposed her appointment, in order to ease their concerns.

"We are immediately going to help colleagues from different communities who are experiencing a difficult situation due to lack of potable water, food and clothing," she told local Channel 2 television.

The new minister said that as a four-year-old girl she was captured in the jungle and was sold several times into forced labor with the families of large land owners.

She told the television station that she had also been sent to school, so she could read and write, and was now studying for a high school diploma.

The new minister also identified indigenous land rights as a priority, as well as protecting forests.

For an Indian the forest represents "his mother, his life, his present and future", she said.

About 90,000 people say they belong to one of Paraguay's estimated 400 Indian communities, in what is one of Latin America's poorest countries, according to government figures.

growls happiness

sings silence

roaring whispers

rushing languidly

wrapping loosening

around across

over under

stroking kneading

kissing dewdrops

upon your tired

aching body