Expectativas

Las expectativas son peligrosos objetivos que uno mismo se inventa o que alguien más siembra en nuestras mentes y que al fin y al cabo están basados en deseos débiles que no hacen parte de nuestros instintos, de nuestras prioridades.

Muchas veces nos encaminamos hacia una expectativa que creemos está cerca, que creemos ver al otro lado de la calle y que parece inmune a cualquier complicación. Pero cuando vamos caminando y empieza a amanecer, cuando nuestros ojos y nuestra mente están bien despiertos, vemos que la calle a cruzar, más que un camino, es una autopista y que para cruzarla hay que enfrentar temores, egos, poderes, voluntades y otros muchos monstruos que se aproximan a nuestro objetivo imaginario, se acercan de una forma lenta pero decidida y que no sabemos si valen la pena enfrentar. 

En este punto se presentan dos opciones: la primera es entrecerrar los ojos y seguir caminando convencidos de que lo que vemos no es cierto. La segunda es seguir el camino con precaución y con la tranquilidad de quíen sabe que es posible llegar o caer y golpearse contra el mundo. 

Hace unos meses tomé la primera opción y no me caí sola sino también cayeron aquellos con los que compartí el entusiasmo de esa expectativa gaseosa. Luego, hace unas semanas, me decidí por la segunda opción y hoy, al amanecer, siento que no me caí sino que me tropecé y me dio risa evitar la caída. 

Aunque en principio parezca triste no llegar a dónde se esperaba, luego de un rato cuando se decantan las primeras impresiones, el sentimiento es de calama, de introspección. Es ahí cuando la realidad aterriza en nuestras manos reflejando nuestros sueños: esos objetivos que nacen de una impresión de la vida real, de un camino ya caminado y de un sentimiento que sale del estómago, de lo más profundo de nuestro ser. Es ahí cuando uno se da cuenta que el universo está mandando una señal para seguir el camino que el alma anhela, ese camino que desde el principio muestra sus obstáculos y que al final esconde el tesoro de la plenitud y la satisfacción de un amor vivido. 

Hoy vuelvo mi atención a ese sueño que me ha movido hasta acá y que me seduce a saltar al vacío de una autopista a la que ya no le temo. 

Change of mind

This life is full of conditions, and with conditions I mean impositions. Almost every decision we make is conditioned by someone or something around. For example, it is impossible to buy environment-friendly products without being called "hippie" - of course with a cynical tone - or talk about gender equality without getting incarcerated as a "radical feminist" or wear pink glasses without becoming a "hipster". Why is it so important to categorize people? Why do we all have to live inside of one an only little box? Why does everyone has to have an opinion over other people's choices? I understand and defend freedom of speech, but I truly believe that we got to a point in which we crossed the line. Now, as we all have "the freedom" to talk openly about everything, we believe that we acquired also a certain power over our fellows' decisions and life-styles. So when someone makes a move, half of the population argues against and the other half argues in favor.

Well, personally I believe that if you are not harming any other soul with your discourses or actions, you can do pretty much what you feel like. And that is life: looking for your own freedom and happiness, without stealing them from someone else - say human, animal or natural being. Why do you care then about what I do or don't?  In this sense, I decided to change my life-style little by little. This project includes a change of attitudes, actions, products, food, and even clothes, and has been going on for a few years now. As I put it here, it sounds radical and a little trendy, but I can assure you it is not. And I am not gonna explain what it exactly consist of or defend my strange life-style among public opinion, because that is not what matters to me now. What is important to me is the fact that I finally stopped paying attention to all the names and categories I was getting for my actions and thoughts. I decided that if they see me as a hippie, hipster, feminist, radical, intense, etc. I will take the best from each one of those little boxes and apply it to my personal project. This is how I am walking around now avoiding impositions and just trying to learn.

Let me give you an example. If I decide to use ecological products I don't have to change 360º my whole life just because there are people around the world producing zero waste. I will do my best to accomplish the goal that created this specific project, still keeping my happiness and freedom. Therefore, I will keep defending gender equality without sympathizing with groups like Femme, I will keep recycling and buying ecological products without supporting an industry in which I don't believe, I will then keep my pink glasses and put my hat on, without being a hipster. I decided to be free inside of this public world, and save my individual self.

A ella le gusta el Tango y el chipotle

Ésta es una mujer que llora al oír las canciones que nos hicieron tan cercanas en la vida. No creo que llore con tristeza, es más con anhelo y algo de felicidad. Le fascina el Tango, tanto que tomamos clases juntas durante un tiempo. Claramente ella con su perseverancia llegó lejos y yo, en medio de mi confusa y molesta adolescencia, desistí al rato. Desde que tengo memoria se levanta a eso de las 5 de la mañana y baja las escaleras que llevan a la cocina para tomarse un tinto. Antes lo hacía sola, ahora la acompaña un gato amarillo -como le dice ella. Ese gato amarillo la ve bajar y corre desesperadamente detrás de ella con miedo de perderse ese ritual mañanero que es solo de ellos dos. En la cocina ella muele los granos de café y el aroma sube por las escaleras llenando la casa de un color inexplicable. Aunque hoy un océano nos separa, tengo en mi mente todas esas mañanas en las que ella subía a mi cuarto con su tinto en la mano y, muy suavecito, me empezaba a despertar. Luego el gato amarillo se subía a mi cama solidarizandose con ella, se sentaba en mi pecho y empezaba a ronronear. ¡Ese par! Son tan amigos que no sabrían que hacer el uno sin el otro. Y pensar que ella no quería tener gatos. Cuando el gato amarillo llegó a la casa, ella puso las reglas: "no se puede subir a mi cama, no duerme conmigo, que no vaya a dañar nada porque sale de aquí tayado no, no, no!" Pues se demoró más ella poniendo las reglas que el gato amarillo conquistando su corazón. Él es hoy el guardían de esa mujer que es un tesoro y, bajo mi encargo, la cuida como tal.

Los domingos para ella son días deliciosos, y digo deliciosos porque son días en los que ella cocina durante horas para adornar la semana con sabores. Le encanta el picante, sobretodo ese polvito rojo que se encontró en México, el otro que consiguió en el Amazonas colombiano, el chipotle que ya consigue en su ciudad y los jalapeños que más de una vez la han hecho llorar. Varias veces tuvimos que llenar el plato de arroz para pasar el pique, comer pan, tomar leche, bueno todo lo hemos probado. Eso sí, siempre que pasa nos reímos en medio de la lágrimas que el picante produce, dándonos cuenta que seguimos cometiendo el mismo error en cuanto al picante y su cantidad concierne. Aunque ella es una mujer silenciosa, la música es parte importante de sus domingos creativos pues mientras cocina, canta y tararea junto a Carlos Gardel, Maria Dolores Pradera, Joan Manuel Serrat, Goyeneche, Chavela Vargas, y otros tantos que tienen el placer de acompañarla. 

Ella es maravillosa y brillante, y a veces se le olvida. Cree por ejemplo que fue muy dura conmigo cuando yo era chiquita y se atora un rato pensando que no va a ser capaz de superar ese miedo que la tiene loca. Pero lo que ella no ve y si vemos los demás es que siempre tiene la fuerza para superar todo obstáculo, y es la mamá más linda que el mundo y la vida conocerá. Yo le agradezco siempre todas y cada una de las cantaletas, los regaños, las conversaciones, los abrazos, el amor, las risas, todo! Soy lo que soy por ella y su interminable amor. A ella le debo mi amor a los libros, al tango, a Joaquín Sabina, a los viajes y a la comida. Ella me enseñó a quererme como soy y crecer con cada paso. Gracias Ma, te adoro. 

Joy

Every day is different indeed, so we can say that all days are special in their way. I have a favorite kind of day though: days like today. Those days in which from the beginning you know that something big and positive could happen. But even if it does not, it changes nothing: the day will keep being soft, tender, bright, and happy. The day itself could be rainy, dark, cold, hipper hot, humid, sticky. People could be mad, screamy,  grumpy, silent, well you know what I mean. The day could be anything, but your mood makes it perfect. I don't know if this sudden happiness is caused by a strange and unusual state of mind during our sleep, or it is a way in which life tries to balance our days (so we don't lose hope), or if it is just caused by our first thought in the morning. I don't really think that is important (I'm not very into finding everything's cause and origin), the important fact is that they exist. 

When this happens to you don't think too much, and just enjoy it fully. Take every second and squeeze it like the juiciest orange. And, most important, don't let anything or anyone get in your way of going into bed at night with a huge satisfaction feeling. 

PS: Im pretty sure that we can manage to make almost everyday as nice and joyful like today (in my case, in yours could be tomorrow). I don't have the exact recipe yet though. BUT I promise that when I find it, I will immediately share it with you all. 

I hope I was able to transmit a little of my joy to you and if I made it, you try it with someone else. 

Me in Dutch

This is a dream that was in my wish-list since ever, I believe. When I was a little younger I used to draw in my mind the possible image of my life in a different place. I always wandered how exciting (and maybe scary) would be to live the everyday life in a language different than spanish, what would I eat at breakfast, what kind of people I would hang out with, etc. That blurry drawing became clear more than a year ago.

Going abroad is like starting from zero. I had to understand and acknowledge the most simple elements of daily life that have been always obvious. Doing groceries can be as scary as being interrogated! One day you land in a new country and from that same moment you become an alien: everything looks strange, public transport seems incomprehensible, the streets' organization have no sense at all, and people are just from another planet. This could sounds really  bad, but I think is one of the moments that I enjoyed the most during this process. The fact  that everything is new makes the most boring activity an adventure. I know it sounds romantic, but I'm not lying. Going to the bank to open an account means getting in contact with a few people first to know where to go and how to get there, and afterwords a few more to start the whole process (and what a complex process it is in The Netherlands!). When finally I got my account and card, I went to the bank to make the last move and one of the bank employees looked at me from the other side of the counter and screams: "Oh, our best and most loyal client! How are you Miss Montana?" Of course this is just due to the fact that I had to go to the bank at least 15 times to make it! But it was a nice story to tell I have to say. All my Dutch friends could just laugh about it and offered me extra help for future procedures.

A few months later I got to the point in which I knew the city and I was able to help people find his/her way: I was part of it. Off course this is the result of getting lost several times while biking, walking, or moving by any other transportation mean. I also got to recognize the fear in the new aliens' faces, and I thought stuff like "Oh, this tourists are so annoying!" (Yes sure, because I am super Dutch). Additionally, a new group of friends pops-up into my life, starting to slowly, slowly seem family: together we had a bunch of activities that composed our new routine. However, this is a tricky moment. As an alien I was surrounded by people in my same situation. I found strong connections with other individuals who, even if from other cultures, looked just like me. We were all  excited, confused, and new, like freshmen. So, I built my new life with some of them but I didn't realize something. They became an essential part of my life making their way into my heart, they gave this new life experience a spicy flavor. But, at some point they went back to their own countries. In my case this was kind of funny. As I was the only one from my friend's group who decided to extend indefinitely the stay in this watery country, I saw all of them (one by one) say goodbye. My alien community was gone.

As soon as this happened the first stage was denial. I tried to see Amsterdam in the same way as always, and believed that my next year will be just the same as the just concluded one. When the lie came down to pieces I saw a completely new life coming. The only thing I was able to think at that point was "Come on! Another life construction process in the same year? You have to be kidding me!" Well, life was not kidding. I crushed against Dutch life. And this is when the fun starts.

Do you have any idea of how ridiculously complex is to arrange bureaucratic issues in a country is not yours? Well, I had none. I was kind of illegal for almost two months because my new resident permit was being issued. At the same time I realized I couldn't get access to regular health insurance because I was not a resident. I had no house because I was no longer a student, so the housing benefits were over.  I was not registered anywhere in the city so I was not able to get the mail with the information about my residence. I was a number without location and I realized it all more or less at the same time. The thing is that when I finally saw that I had no control over my life at that moment I couldn't do what I normally do: go home, seat with my mum or dad at the table and start talking like a parrot trying to figure the solution out. At that point I saw two options: relax and laugh or stress out and cry. I took the second one. Fortunately my boyfriend, being like he is, was present and supportive (and a little tough when necessary) every single second.

Today, almost completely over the crisis I have one conclusion: it can be like this for ever. I can stay here for fifteen more years and I suspect that I will probably keep having cultural shocks. However I do not see it as an issue. In fact, it is an advantage! This is my new home, here is where my dreams are getting a nice shape, this is where I would like to stay by now, but I want to stay as an alien. I want to keep my essence to not melt into the same sauce as the locals. Dutch people are amazing in every sense and I have no complains, but they are still Dutch and I will always be Colombian. I don't care if I have to struggle with the system for the rest of my life, because I already now how to do it. I love my life here because I saw all my weaknesses in their climax but I never stopped smiling (sometimes between some tears) and knowing that here is where I belong for now. I know I will see more people coming and going away, I will also go home crying and asking for help to my (super patient and lovely) boyfriend few more times, I will fall from my bike when the city will be covered by snow, and I will keep arguing that Dutch people have no idea what breakfast and lunch are about. But I also know that I found here the complete version of myself, and I love it.

El por qué

Hace un buen rato (varios años) me encuentro en proceso de entendimiento con el mundo que me rodea. En muchos momentos de la vida me he preguntado si realmente pertenezco a la masa de gente que se levanta y se acuesta todos los días en el planeta tierra. Muchos días pienso que soy parte de solo una minoría, lo que no significa que sea especial o mejor que nadie. Al revés, me siento parte de una minoría formada por especímenes que, aunque humanos, somos casi que no identificados: somos raros y no encajamos exactamente en ningún lado. Otros días me despierto sintiendome parte del mundo, parte de cada persona con la que me cruzo en la calle. En medio hay muchos otros días en donde simplemente soy y no pienso mucho en como lo hago. Claramente cada día y momento viene acompañado de sentimientos y pensamientos. Aunque no tenga muy clara una parte de mi identidad (ese tema de a dónde pertenezco y de qué soy parte), hay ideas e ideales que permanecen en mí y se han fortalecido con los años. 

Esas ideas, esos pensamientos son los que quiero compartir acá. Quiero abrir este espacio para compartir percepciones y sensaciones de lo que pasa a mi alrededor. Mi intención es simplemente escribir pedazos de mi que considero valiosos o que pienso que a otros pueden interesar. Prometo hacer lo posible para que la lectura sea entretenida y no tediosa, pues la idea de compartir esto es que el/la que lo lea, lo haga con gusto (así no esté de acuerdo con lo que digo). 

Con esta intención explico el título de este espacio cibernético. Las pestañas de las vacas son un elemento de este hermoso mundo que siempre me ha fascinado. Las vacas como tal me encantan y me hacen feliz. Son pasivas y hermosas, son sublimes y elegantes. Pero su mirada, sus pestañas largas, son mucho más. Cuando miré a una vaca de cerca por primera vez me di cuenta de lo expresiva que es su mirada. En mi casa me habían dicho muchas veces que yo tenía ojos de vaca, cosa que nunca me terminó de gustar. Pero a partir de ese momento de cercanía, me sentí honrada y conectada con ese manchado ser de vida tranquila. Yo estoy segura que esa mirada sabe mucho, que ellas guardan en sí mucho más de lo que vemos nosotros. Yo creo que unas pestañas tan largas y majestuosas no se pueden mover sin alterar alguna parte de este universo. Por eso creo que un espacio como este es como esas pestañas: uno cree que escribiendo cosas sencillas no mueve ninguna tuerca de este complejo sistema en el que vivimos, pero en realidad  puede llegar a mover mucho. 

Mi intención es promover sentimientos y opiniones, es expresar mi posición frente a algunos temas, es mostrar lo que la experiencia me ha enseñado en algunos campos. Quiero ser criticada y apreciada, quiero construir y fortalecer ideas. Y no hay mejor forma para esto que compartirlas con los demás. Muchos me considerarán tan solo un parpadeo más en este mundo: yo soy consciente de la fuerza que este pequeño movimiento puede cobrar.