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Friday, April 18, 2014

Gabriel García Márquez and Myself

Gabriel García Márquez and Myself


Gabriel García Márquez and Myself

Posted: 18 Apr 2014 09:49 AM PDT

Gabriel García Márquez and myself at an art exhibition in México City i had the luck to have met him,
Thanks Larena iReport for CNN

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Wrigley Field - Seats

Posted: 18 Apr 2014 08:32 AM PDT

I've been a Cubs fan my entire life. I spent my youth watching the cubs and playing baseball with my family.

Every year I like to go to a few games and walk around Wrigleyville.

I was lucky enough to attend the Staff Appreciation Day in 2012 and get some behind the scenes photographs of Wrigley Field. This is a neat view of the seats.

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Wrigley Field - Scoreboard

Posted: 18 Apr 2014 08:18 AM PDT

I've been a Cubs fan my entire life. I spent my youth watching the cubs and playing baseball with my family.

Every year I like to go to a few games and walk around Wrigleyville.

I was lucky enough to attend the Staff Appreciation Day in 2012 and get some behind the scenes photographs of Wrigley Field. This is a photograph of the iconic scoreboard.

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Wrigley Field - Hallway

Posted: 18 Apr 2014 08:12 AM PDT

I've been a Cubs fan my entire life. I spent my youth watching the cubs and playing baseball with my family.

Every year I like to go to a few games and walk around Wrigleyville.

I was lucky enough to attend the Staff Appreciation Day in 2012 and get some behind the scenes photographs of Wrigley Field. This is a behind the scenes photograph of the hallway leading to the locker room.

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Wrigley Field - Trough Urinals

Posted: 18 Apr 2014 08:10 AM PDT

I've been a Cubs fan my entire life. I spent my youth watching the cubs and playing baseball with my family.

Every year I like to go to a few games and walk around Wrigleyville.

I was lucky enough to attend the Staff Appreciation Day in 2012 and get some behind the scenes photographs of Wrigley Field. This is a photograph of the bathroom with the iconic trough urinals.

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The Early Morning Crucifixion in San Guillermo

Posted: 17 Apr 2014 10:11 PM PDT

These are shots of the crucifixion earlier today happened at San Guillermo, Bacolor, Pampanga where a devotee was nailed on the cross. Unlike the similar event in the same province particularly in Cutud, Ciy of San Fernando, the crucifixion in Bacolor, Pampanga does not have a program or theater like plays where actions are staged for viewer's entertainment. The nailing fo the cross in Bacolor is a devotion of a man who wish to have his daughter be healed on her heart disease. He believes that this bow will make his prayers come true as it has been for the past 20 years he has been doing it.

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For English Teachers in South Korea, Ferry Accident is Personal

Posted: 17 Apr 2014 07:38 PM PDT

Last night, I woke up feeling nauseated. All I could think about were the students still trapped on the ferry off the Jindo port in South Korea; the fact that they were probably dead or dying as I slept peacefully in my warm bed with my loved one beside me.

It was only two days prior that I was joining our running group in order to memorialize another terrible event: the Boston Marathon bombings. The event resonated with me deeply as a runner, and as an American. One year later, another sickening tragedy is resonating with me again.

I am seeing constant updates via Facebook and text message from other friends who are English Teachers and professionals here in Seoul, South Korea. I have talked with several friends on the subject as well, and there seems to be a general consensus. People are taking this event personally. Quotes from my friend's Facebook pages are running the emotional gamut; disbelief, shock, anger, sadness, and hope:

"This makes me sad, and angry that only one lifeboat was deployed of 46. After living in Korea for 4 years, I'm not shocked. I hope that this upcoming generation learns to challenge authority rather than trust in authority figures. It's sad that the captain fled the sinking ship while so many young students lost their lives. Such cowardice!"

"R.I.P children and adults of the sunken ferry heading to Jeju Island.
It is a very sad day."

"Sad about it, praying for the passengers. I really wish and hope that there will be more survivors. But time is the worst factor here. Sea is cold, and the ferry is in the position that difficult to get in. But I really hope... "

So, why is it especially poignant for us?

Besides the geographic closeness of the situation, these could have been the children that we teach. Any of our schools could have decided to use one of those ferries to take the children on a trip. Those parents could be the parents of our students; the people we've come to know love their children so deeply. Or, it could have been us. My husband and I were just talking about planning a trip to Jeju for the upcoming holidays of Children's Day and Buddha's Birthday.

Another reason is, as the first Facebook quote I pasted above mentions, these children are taught to respect Korean authority. They were told to stay put, so they did. It is absolutely heartbreaking to know that these students, who had their whole lives ahead of them, will most likely die because they did what they were told to do.

Moving forward, I hope that the authorities can get to these students, dead or alive. At this point, the horrible fact is that the former is more likely. Their families need closure so that they can begin to mourn. I hope, that when that happens, there will also be some closure for us, too.

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Gabo made face the blannk page

Posted: 17 Apr 2014 02:41 PM PDT

I was twelev years old when I was livng in Bogota, the youngest of ten and the only one left at home with my mother, when one cold December night some one started knoking the front door with a tremendous sense of urgency. It was my brother's partner at the office. He wanted to tell my mother that my brother Mario had had an accident. But my mother new better, she new her son Mario was dead. The man was asking for any of my older siblings but they were all gone. My mother said: All I have left is my youngest, Mariano but he is sleeping. I was not, I was shaking of fear and cold. Hernan my brother's partner came into my room and asked me if I had a suit, to which I responded yes. He said put it on and come with me. He asked how old are you? I said twelve. He responded that is good, you are already a man and the man in the Robayo family don't cry. Your brother Mario is dead. You are going to be the first member of the familty to see him dead and you are going to be with me all nigh.
As I came out of the house I saw three cars, two were blue unmarked police cars and one was a yello cab. Hernan told the men in trench coats smoking cigarretes, this is his brother, he is coming with us. They went to their respective vehicles and Hernan and I sat in the taxi cab, whose driver recognised me from the days I used to go hunting with my brother Mario.
Driving from Bogota to the little town, 40 kilometers away, where my brother used to live, I concentrated on the street lights of the last part of the city, marking how they past rythmically on top of the car and the back window.
This was in my guts from age twelve to 21 when my mother died and I was reading Hundred Years of Solitud. Suddenly Gabo's writing gave the passport to write myself. Obvilusly not with his talent and that is impossible but with the inspiration, the truth and the passion that validates the feelings. Gabo introduced me to Kafka and Folkner. I am crying because I have lost my invisible but very real mentor, my intelectual father figure.
For a child that grew up in a familily where hunger and violence were the only sure things of every day life, to be able to find literature as an escape, to dream that is possible that your brain is a castle and you are the king. To dream and write the dreams, to be able to take a piece of reality with a piece aof abstract and put it together as a cohesive story is magical and Gabo gave us that. I know he gave it to me.
I have been writing a book for 17 yaers, Gabo took the same amount of time to write on his novels and that makes feel better. I have not finished it because is not good and I want it to be good. I have not shown it to anybody, becasue he was told by one of his early mentors not to show early to any one.
I have the feeling that I have to present my work to Gabo and it will not be of the calliber and I go back to work.
To my mentor, my inspiration, my literary compass, continuing to think that I have to present my work to you, Gabito I will miss you knowing that you have left us a lot of material to read and reflect. Thank you for the 87 years you gave us. As for me, like you would said:
"Estoy Jodido"

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Hawks Won The Cup, Wrigley Celebration Ensued

Posted: 17 Apr 2014 10:34 AM PDT

Basically, it was the friendliest riot I have ever been a part of. Every person in the streets was suddenly your best friend. My right hand quickly became sore from all the high fives and police officers and vagrants hugged it out. A smiling sea of red and white jerseys ebbed and flowed as Chelsea Dagger echoed in the distance. It was glorious.

 

Watching the Game 6 of the 2013 Stanley Cup Finals in Wrigley-ville may have been one of the best decisions of my life. The Blackhawks fans packed inside the bars surrounding Wrigley field were a perfect conduit for the magic taking place on screen. I distinctly remember the eruption of flying beer and shouts of joy after the tying goal, only to be outdone by a full-on bar implosion caused by the game winning goal 18 seconds later. I was drenched in Goose Island, looking up at the screen to make sure I wasn't dreaming, when the cameras showed the live Wrigley celebration happening in the streets.

 

The party in the bar spilled onto N Clark St. Guys hoisted girls on their shoulders and raised the beer in their hands like the Cup itself. I remember conga lines spanning a quarter mile, drunken dance circles converting full grown men back into their childhood self and spontaneous Bud Light showers falling from the sky. It was pure magic.

 

Eventually things got pretty crowded and the riot police got on the scene, preventing more folks from entering this hockey version of the Garden of Eden. Luckily, my friend and I were captured in this photo before the area cleared out and we sealed this memory forever. Hopefully we can repeat ourselves this year. Lets go Hawks!

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After the Sun Comes... the Snow?

Posted: 17 Apr 2014 06:45 AM PDT

Many northeastern US residents have been fortunate enough to experience a hint of spring weather finally touching ground these last couple of days. Mother Nature, however, isn't without a sense of humour, as just a day after receiving sunny 78°F weather, snow fell overnight and stuck on the grounds that were just beginning to flourish with greenery.

 

This photo was taken, just 24 hours after the nice 78°F day, from a window of a residency in Syracuse, NY, a city known for its blustery winters and record setting lake-effect snowfalls. On this day, temperatures reached a low of 30°F in the area of Central New York.  "When will it end?  I'm ready to move.  This is ridiculous," says one resident.

 

Time will only tell, but rest assured, Spring will soon "rain" again.

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Wrigley Field sign at night.

Posted: 16 Apr 2014 06:44 PM PDT

Wrigley Field is celebrating 100 years of operation in Chicago. This is a nighttime photo of the iconic sign at the entrance to the ballpark.

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Jesus Christ Carries A Cross in Chicago

Posted: 16 Apr 2014 02:23 PM PDT

It is not unusual to find Jesus Christ walking around carrying a cross in Chicago downtown.

Jesus Christ carries a wooden cross engraved INRI while he crosses the street downtown, across from City Hall.

Christ is everyman while he waits to cross Clark Street across from the Cook County Courthouse.

Jesus Christ carries his cross on his back and walks downtown Chicago.

Christ takes his cross up the escalator, not to heaven in Chicago.

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