Monday, April 16, 2012

My Romance with el Señor Pimsleur

On the tapes we speak so nicely to each other always. According to el señor Pimsleur, el famoso lingüista, language enters the brain painlessly like an IV drip. Half an hour a day, every day--no memorization at all! I desire to learn so many tongues.
--Have you been here before?
--No, never, but it pleases me very much the weather and also the mountains.
--Your English is very excellent.
--Your Spanish, also.
--Does your uncle prefer vino tinto or vino blanco?
In Spanish there are two kinds of being, temporary and permanent. Ser y estar. We must pay constant attention and try not to confuse them. I like the rainforest and the beaches.
--Pero habla usted muy bien, señora.
--It is kind of you to say, but I only know what has dripped into my brain from the CDs ,of the method Pimleur. I started with High Intermediate. Is why I can use the past tense and even the subjunctive. It is so nice to have a subjunctive. En ingles no hay.
--Nacionalidad?
--Norteamericana. Notice I did not say American. I must bear in mind that you too are Americans. We only are North Americans; we don’t mean to offend but we simply can’t help it.
--Porpoise of visit, please?
--I have come here as a medical tourist.
--Como, señora?
--Conoce usted el turismo medico? Facelifts, tummy tucks, brow lifts, lower body lifts… I don’t know the words in Spanish.
--Do you bring any fruits or vegetables into the country?
--Claro que no! Es muy simpático este país, full of rare rainforest species. Also a Filene’s basement for surgery of the elective type. Por supuesto, is grand opportunity for new vocabulary, for example, nasolabial folds. But this, alas, el Señor Pimsleur does not cover in his lessons. I fear I am not making myself clear.
--I believe you are obtruding the line, señora.
--I excuse myself. Do not think that I am a vain woman, like so many norteamericanas. In strictest confidence, I lost half of myself and in places the skin hangs from my bones.
--Your pasaporte seems to be in order. You may go. Pase pase por aquí, señora.
--Muchas gracias, señor.
--Buenas tardes, Señora! Yo soy el señor Gómez. We were on the same airplane.
--Mucho gusto, señor. El baggage claim is this way?
--Yes, let us go there together. What brings you to my country?
--I have come here to have certain cosmetic surgeries necessitated by rapid weight loss. I used to be very fat. Muy gordita. Now I am flaquita. I lost 120—uh, kilos?
--No es posible, señora.
--I mean 120 pounds. I regret that I don’t know your units of weight. It is a fact that I now have on mi pecho lost senos de mi abuela.
--What you intend to mean, señora?
--It is that the breasts of my grandmother are on my chest. This is the result of getting thin very fast. I was warned it would occur. I hope to see many extinct volcanos during my visit.
--Here is the baggage claim, señora. We must wait.
--Gracias, señor. Mi amiga has already had several surgeries. She tells me don’t bother to learn Spanish; all you need to say is, Tengo mucho dolor. Mucho? How much is mucho? I asked. Oh, don’t worry, she said, you won’t remember a thing.
---Ah, Here is my valise, the black one.
--I hope mine has not lost itself. You see, on my thin body--mi cuerpo flaquito--is the same amount of skin surface that formerly enclosed my fat self. My arms now resemble batwings. How do you say bat?
--???
--Señor Gonzalez, have you seen the fotos en el famoso periodico National Geographic? If so you will know what I mean when I speak of the deflated bosoms of ancient African ladies. They resemble themselves to empty sacks--sacos vacios.
--Le gustaria tomar algo, señora?
--No, gracias. El gobierno de este país—es una junta?
--No, señora, here is stable government. We call ourselves the Switzerland of Central America.
--Ah! but do not forget little Switzerland’s role in hiding the Nazi gold. How does collaborator say itself in Spanish?
--No, no, señora. Is here a stable democracy, I assure you. No dead Indians, banana coups, coffee thugs, ni historia muy tragic.
---Ah yes, we are only visitors here, we cannot judge. We pass through this land as medical tourists from Gringolandia, the land of norteamerica. Oh! Is my bag—right there. El de verde!
--Your bug?
--Suitcase, luggage. I have not remembered the word and the CDs were very expensive, muy caro. A ripoff really. Oh, thank you—a thousand times thank you.
--Do you stay here in the capital?
--Yes, tomorrow I must take myself to to the oficina of el doctor Martinez. With him I have already entered into an email relationship bastante intima. He speaks excellent English and answers my questions about his various procedures. Recomienda usted las especialidad de la casa?
--Usted habla muy bien español. Señora. Is this your first time here?
--Gracias, señor. Misfortunately, I am only High Intermediate, but is my greatest intention to progress further. It is frequently said that it is best to learn to speak with the natives. Me gustaría mucho arroz y pollo.
--A su servicio, señora.
--Vive usted en el norte or el sud? Su esposa es enfermera?

--Claro que si. I am a man of negocios. My brother is the director of a company international. The sister of my brother lives in Chicago. It is necessary to make many business travels.
--How interesting. Quiere usted ver las fotografías of my former fat body and my present skinny body? Antes y después. I have them here on mi laptop. El doctor Martinez insisted on seeing them before the surgery. They are a hoot. Here, you can see.
--Ay, ay, que barbaridad.
--Now you’ve seen my batwings you will understand why I am having the surgery.
---Ojala que se mejore pronto.
--Oh, was that the subjunctive? I love the subjunctive! I wish English had one. It is my favorite tense--voice, whatever. This wine is delicious. Is it from the south?
--No, this wine is from the west. The corn is from the east.
--Ah, que bueno! And the government here is very stable. I have heard it is the Switzerland of Centroamerica.
--That is what one says, Señora. We hope that you will have many enjoyments here.
--Buenas tardes, Señora. Es usted chilena?
--Ah, Señor Gómez, Mucho gusto! This country es muy delicioso. Which way to the stopping place of the autobus?
--On the corner of the street, señora, across from the police station.
--May I have one ticket please? While I am here I would desire very much to see the animals of the rainforest, especially the green and black poison dart frog and the three-toed sloth.


Judy Hooper
April 2012

Monday, April 09, 2012

Enlightenment feels like a weight off the bones

Enlightenment feels like a weight off the bones
The sudden death of muscular tension
Recognizing ghostly hungers like old friends
And loving them toughly.
You become your own patron saint,
your own mendicant and supplicant combined
and in each demon and angel see a cosmos reflected
holding you chalice-like in Indra's quantum foam.


It is to populate the world of atoms with heroes and gods
And to rip all Scripture asunder in the torrent of the frontal lobe
Our eyes can only open as wide as our minds and hearts


But if we are bold
we can embrace without grasping
this life that cherishes and churns us
and all that may lie beyond without drawing inane maps of unglimpsed shores


And if we are wise
We can celebrate every fold and every crease of life where others would plug in the iron
Right up until we ourselves are just another memory to celebrate


And if we are compassionate
we can embrace one another without grasping
& beckon each other on the spiral dance of discovery and death


Scatter flowers or ashes as you will - enlightenment is big enough for both.
All evil things lose their power, and all good things their pompous prestige
for what cannot change?
Trust not in the judgmental, for who has earned milk without a kick,
honey without a sting?
And wisdom, in enlightened eyes, lies in every iota of Aldebaran's light,
The colors of deep-sea firefly fish,
Detritus trodden doggedly into inner-city sidewalks,
and in void.


Enlightenment takes nothing very seriously.
Enlightenment takes nothing very seriously.


Joshua  Gannon-Salomon
March 2012

Sunday, April 01, 2012

Can I forgive the poet inside?

Can I forgive the poet inside?
Rude-word scrawler, tiger-tooth tickler,
Scrappy town brawler, infant bawler.
Bone grubber, rag picker, hoarder of valves and keys.
The poet inside sets fire to foolscap. A light,
A fanfare, a tree speaks, a bicycle spoke,
One blink the world is gone and whoosh
All is resurrected. An iron nail, a blood red ruby
Flash and burn on the wrists of saints,
True and false. Blessed are the poets:
Scattershot word thieves,
The ones who wield a pen with clumsy love.
Blessed are those who careen after wholeness,
Slipping on word spill, tripping on truth,
Half-awake, wholly foolish, aware and unaware,
Witless wise guys drunk on witness.



Anne Lindley
March 2012