#i love this homage to her home country and their indigenous peoples it's beautiful

[bougainvilea]

te ao marama is literally gorgeous what the fuck

[queen-asante]

ejucated immigrant

((AUTHOR’S NOTE: @eene-fangirl For the Fanfiction Weekend Challenge! I should probably wait to post this for Rolf Appreciation Month, but there’s a lot of Jonny backstory/headcanons in here, so I thought it would count. Basically, it’s a poem from Rolf’s POV but it’s technically about Jonny, or rather, Jonny was my muse for this.

I haven’t written a poem in Rolf’s ‘’voice’’ since 2014 but believe it or not, that one little line that Edd says in ‘’A Case of Ed’’ inspired the poem (you know, the one), and as I was reading Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls who have considered suicide/ when the rainbow is enuf, it produced said result. A turnip for your thoughts? I don’t normally write Rolf like this, it’s actually more like Rolf emulating Ntozake Shange for those familiar with her style. As an Indian Immigrant girl who’s considered suicide, that book changed my life, she’s my idol. Hence, the poem is written in ebonics and all lower case to pay homage to Shange (and I consciously dropped third person redundancies, it wasn’t a mistake). Three non-EEnE characters are briefly mentioned: the first one is Vanessa, my friend who’s half African-American and half Haitian. The second one is Ice, who belongs to my friend, Dani. Ice, in her world, is a black and white cat who becomes Double D’s pet. Rolf fears him because he’s not only black and white, but he shares the name of Immigration and Customs Enforcement by pure coincidence. Dani didn’t plan this, as she created Ice before she met me but she liked the idea of giving Rolf a reason to fear the cat, and so we came up with that story together. The third one is Dr. Feelgood who was my therapist, it’s not her real name, it was an affectionate nickname I coined for her in my years battling Bipolar Disorder Type 3.

As a closing thought, much apologies for the length, also tumblr’s going to mess up the format.))

‘’ejucated immigrant’’

dear gods,

i be 14 wit skin as rough as treebark & hands dat look old

i waz the dark skined immigrant wanting to bathe in bleach

Brown Black / Blue Black / Amber Beige / Bister Brick Bronze / Chestnut Chocolate Cinnamin

Copper / Drab / Dust / Ginger / Fawn / Ochre / Coffe Colourd Caramel

Tawny / Terra-Cotta / Henna / Sepia / Umbre

lookin in the thesurus eddward wit two ds give me when i come to dis country

everything spell Brown but nothing spell White

White sound nice like pearl like snow like milk like golden skined white skined light skined

honey dipped / lemon kissed / but begging for ivory / fair frosted silvery ashen boy jimmy

your white hands on my brown skin

i waz the dark skined immigrant botherin to drag you round

you stand there like a closed mouth statue & you insult my way of life

think you know everythin / rolf just some ignorant third world peasant or somethin

but we be livin dis way longer than the foundin of your land

your country young my country old

numbers & poppy / it just to give you illegitimately born breeds of donkeys

somethin to hee-haw over / science say there no gods either but who know dat

you cannot contain lightning bugs in a jar

i waz the dark skined immigrant dreamin of shakin the mr presidents hand

the former mr president wit eyes like a tired old man & Brown his Brown like a mud bath

it really too bad you know / rolf like your former president

dat black man who dont check dixtionaries for validation of his blackness

he not so bad / he waz sympathetic to the plight of the immigrant but his hands tied

not blame him / he not god he not have all the power in the world to fix dis weather

dis cloud dat hang over your land & who the hell is perfect?

it really such a shame / i dream to see the Hill / see the pearly house painted white the place where he live meet him shake his large brown hand / one brown hand to another

cept i not black / rolf not have to be / not pass / rolf european he is white not bloodless

he not pass he not be white enough for your country

cept i be white on the inside look coloured on the out but i aint no coloured

under my skin i am more than a colour

whoever herd of white passing for person of colour

but suddenly i get to dis country & i be treated no different than jonny

so alls i got is coloured dreams

poor grate nano lived & died on silly dreams / well they not exist

there be only reality & reality not kind to the dark skined indigenous immigrant

no one know what i supposed to be / take a wild guess

indian pakistani mexican romani rolf herd it all & none suppose right

they only looking at my face / the outside the outside not matter

cuz i waz the dark skined immigrant not italian not irish but the other kinds

& no one will see unless rolf cut open his veins & bleed

a Wood Nymph have my colour & if i check off the box dat say caucasian i get a funny look

from the lady sittin behind the counter wit the yellow nail polish & beaded eyeglass

spose if jonny do the same they wont believe him neither

jonny be good

yous see him dancin / wearin his stomach out / dark skined bare feet / swayin his hips

& grate thin arms but he not care dat he gots splinters in his fingertips

his nails turnin all black & blue & those chapped lips look like eyes starin out atchu

the gods make dis child the way he is

wit skinted knees & all & elbows pointed outwards readin you like a map

always wit the label on the left side

but he bootiful & he know it / beauty sometime come in the empty coffee can

not in the paper lillies or plastic pearls

you cant make a silk purse from a sows ear / even if dat ear be made of wood

of wood widda crayon drawn smile

jonnys mother the madwoman in the attic

rolf be certain jonny the wood boy some kind of elf from the passage of Valhöll

the mother of the Tree Sprite she not like rolf / well she not like any child it seems

weepy jimmy-boy & rolf invited to jonny-boys abode for a meeting of the Urban Rangers

& tho his mother never says so we feel she not like us very well

she never ast us to stay for lunch

even tho rolf personally would not eat a morsel of what these people eat

& we always been so polite to her but still she build walls

rolf believe she jealous of us becuz jonny likes us

she come out to the parlour / barefoot / flowers in her wild tangled mess of black raven hair

like yoko ono & wearing a long paisley skirt / she bootiful in an earthy sort of way

but she has a wild look in her eyes like a tigress

a violently insane expression like a german vampire dat make rolf think of bertha mason

she looms over her son like a dark older sister becuz they look so alike

altho her skin much darker / a deep chocolate brown / her complexion remind rolf of vanessa maybe she is haitian / she like the demon in nanas stories the one we all have widdin us

who comes out when we try too hard to be good children

she look at white as snow jimmy & myself like she disprove

either she not like us the uniforms or both

rolf forget tho these hippies wit their anti-establishment

they think every uniform represents what jonny calls ‘’the Man’’ & dats what it is rolf think

she not want jonny in the organisation

becuz she think it goes against their opposition to social norms

rolf could tell she wanted to ast us to leave / she not like jonny spending so much time wit us

becuz then he not at home meditating wit her or whatever it is they do

jonnys family is strange / they not eat meat & walk around shoeless

rolf has been called a gypsy by the children at school but flower child jonny seem to rolf more of a gypsy if there ever waz such a thing

he is almost ethereal / his family must be from a clan of faeries the kind nana warns rolf about but brown-skinned jonny seem harmless enough

i watch his mama put a daisy in the pocket of his jeans

i not know if his daddy be white or black but what difference does dat make

rolf understand it is important for a child to love their family no matter their faults

i know The Giving Tree still love his mother

even if she would prefer him to leave the Urban Rangers

of us three jimmy be the whitest of white jonny the blackest of black & i somewhere in between

but any one of us can walk into a puerto rican bar & start speakin spanish

& no one would know what we are

race too complicated & people too narrow minded / want everything boxed in

one day we waz layin on dat grassy knoll / jonny & i

where the trees whisper to us & we whisper back

cuz you know the boy talk to trees & i listen to his voice / & i be lookin at our hands you see

cuz we waz layin inches apart a flower between us & i tuck it behind his ear

then i look & see my skin only one shade lighter than his

tho the sun make me browner than i really be

out in the sun for hours & hours plowing & plowing the fields

by sundown i roasted coffee bean brown / as black as the inside of a chimney

& if i stumble into town any passing stranger would think i waz Black i mean African

id have to stay out of the sun for days to get my old colour black lest i wander round wit only the whites of my eyes visible on my sun burnt dyed rust brown brown skin

& hair so course youd suppose it come off a horses ass

lookin more like an American Indian than a White

i holdin the back of my hand up to jonnys now

how bout dat two brown hands one dark & one light but whos to say i not be a dark white & he not a light skined brown

dont you dare tell me what i am & am not

bitch dis aint no south africa where yous all can reassign us based on what you think

i aint no sandra laing but sometime i wouldnt mind bein black if it meant for you to leave me be

in fact ill gladly be whatever you want me to be but i am what i am

not black enough for black not white enough for white so what am i?

dont box me into Black & White / cuz in dis world brother dat not exist

im sorry as hell but i gettin real tired of bein called

an illegal / an alien / a wop / a gypsy / a guinea / a brownie whatever you want to call us

all your bigoted slurs clumping us together like we one & the same

dat fine but papers or no papers not define who i am

so uncle sam can take it & shove it

welcome to america!

i be having a long love affair wit your country & people

i also be having a war wit em

mama told me there are limits for dark skined immigrants stuck in dis light skined first world

we come over the border wit all the rest of them

wit all them people from central & south america

wit all them refugees from africa & asia

guess what we blend right in we look no different

look just like any other brown faced ‘’illegal alien’’

border patrol take one look at us & think we just like the rest

cuz yesterdays europeans are todays mexicans & middle easterners

coloured Sons of Shepherds gots few chances

what it like to be bilingual / to speak in two tounge

ah but to be fluent in one & not the other tryin to find any definishun in the dixtionary

in which i drop third person redunduncies cuz i only one person not three

& i only speak two language

you speak spanish?

no habla inglés

you speak english?

i dont speak spanish

one day the hat & head as one edd boy say oh rolf! youre so unejucated!

i think my ears deseeve me but i know what i herd

i wish to strike his milk honey cheeks full of nonsense

& say to him i am the ejucated immigrant you be warned about

dont talk to me bout ejucashun

i sale cross the oshun

i wash up on your shore

i lern another language

it wasnt easy

what you know bout ejucashun

all you know come from books & theories

at least i know where i stand

you are a child & i am old old old my hands notted thick wit veins like the roots of a tree

you say i sound angry / yea i angry but not as angry as you

cuz there nothing they fear more than a minority who knows what up

i used to be fraid but not no more

i used to fear the plainclothes agents in Black & White uniform

of immigration & customes enforecement / of ICE police

of eddwards Black & White cat name Ice on ICE

he must be making fool out of me to call a domesticated beast after homeland security

a cat in uniform because the gods make him so not by choice

like there be some purpose to it / i waz the dark skined immigrant you made fun of

i see what they do to the undocumented immigrant on the telly  

but now i not be fraid / becuz you cant touch me

so the grapefruit widda red ugly mouth & bleached hair sit in office now

damming all them people from ‘’shithole countries’’ / just as well but we here to stay

it not what i ast for but no use fighting it

& i will gladly pull the bookmarks from my english dixtionary

the one double d edd boy give me

no longer will i bathe in bleach / only use to washing dishes & floors

i not some bloody floor

‘’immigrant’’

at least i can spell dat  / i look it up in the dixtionary

websters dixtionary / who the hell is webster?

but now it marked up used copy wit yellow post it notes

i use it a lot to lern your tounge

i not smart but i sho as hell not unejucated / papa can tell me dat

i be in your country in first place to reseeve ‘’best ejucashun’’ like grate nano wanted

grate nano waz an adventurer / a dreamer wit big goals

he travell far & wide seeking fame & fortune

when he a very young boy immigrants from every cesspool in western & eastern europe set sale for The North / it waz always grate nanos dream to travel North

everyone say he more insane than a bovine wit mad cows disease

there no room in dis life for dreams they tell him / he prove our village wrong

when rolf eight years of age grate nano briefly left the Old Country to set sale for america

everyone say he be too old / he never too old for dreams

he wanted to find dat American Dream he hear so often about

spoken wit fondness by the tinkers who visit our land

he returned from his valiant voyage wit stories about what he seen

in the North  he said everyone has cars & money & television & running water

no one listen / The North the North they say dat is all you ever talk about

he waz a man who dreamed of a new life for his family & so he decided to send for us

& make a better life for ourselves after the plagues of the land had haunted our family for years grate nano promised us america he said youll soon be eating apple pie from off a china plate white picket fence / coca cola / santa clause / marilyn monroe / empire state building

it sound like a fairytale he spun a legend dat the streets waz paved wit gold

& we believed him for shining in grate nanos eye waz a dream & so here we are

rest his soul he wanted so much to buy us light & sun & clean wind of the oshun

‘’immigrant’’ waz a new word for rolf when he first come here

did not know after hearing the stories from grate nano dat he would soon be one himself

rolf not know what dat mean & still really dont

the dixtionary definishun say \ ˈi-mə-grənt \ noun. a person who comes to a country to take up permanent residence

\ ˈi-mə-ˌgrāt \ verb. [to go or remove into; in, into, and migrate, to remove.]

to come into a new country, region, or environment in order to settle there: opposed to emigrate.

oh sorry dat definishun not say we unclean people / flea invested vermin

sickly serpents who not speak english / greaser / sheenie

contagions of american society / incredibly dirty tramps fresh off the boat

so pervasive / such nonwhite filth / staring back at pitch black faces

not blonde haired & blue eyed / nonwhite skin only fit for dirt & waste work

mama papa kiss me goodbye i going to haiti

but it is what rolf is now it part of his identity just as much as the colour of his skin

just as much as bein a pagan / just as much as bein a male

just as much as bein the Son of a Shepherd

now rolf a new man living in the New World

i am an immigrant

sometime i wish i waz shug avery / bootiful fictional dark skin harlem singer

half man half woman / wit my large glittering masculine thighs i make an animal of men

maybe i have the courtesan complex

so i ast dr feelgood what my diag-nonsense

& she say poor soul you suffer from Stressed Shepherd Syndrome

okay so we all crazy in one way or another / it alright for some

of a mannequin in tears / of personal prejudices

im an unejucated farm boy from No Mans Land

im a poet who write in english

neisatnaf i isatnaf ne / ttim tetrejh dem gnyalp re lesgnel og gem tolrof nuh

rettenremmos i sirb ne mos rav ed / gem etlatrof nuh dro retsem nadrovh

etted tal eddejks rofrovh? / enneh lit gem trekided gej og enneh teksnø etrejh ttim

senneh enenyoø ås gej etted tla eddejks rofrovh

& this is for Sons of Shepherds who have considered suicide

fin

[jeremystrele]

Exploring Queensland’s Spectacular Western Scenic Rim

Exploring Queensland’s Spectacular Western Scenic Rim

Travel

Jo Hoban

Jo Hoban explores the Western Scenic Rim on a two-day hike. Photo – courtesy of Spicers Retreats.

Growing up in Brisbane, my parents would often take our family for short getaways to the western Scenic Rim region known for its picturesque mountain ranges. We’d visit country spots like Boonah, Lake Moogerah and Mt Barney. I have lovely memories of those times (aside from the sticky vinyl upholstery in Dad’s old 1970s Ford Falcon).

These days I live near Brisbane’s Mt Coot-tha Forest where I love walking the trails. When the opportunity arose to “spread my hiking wings” and do the Spicers two-day Scenic Rim Trail earlier this year, I jumped! The Scenic Rim Trail is located on the Western edge of the region and showcases a small part of The Great Dividing Range. Heading out that way again reminded me there are many wonderful, lesser-known places on Brisbane’s doorstep. And a range of exciting new businesses are breathing fresh life into the region.

Photographer Mindi Cooke and I took a little road trip to visit a few. Here’s the lowdown!

Left: In the thick of it. Photo – courtesy of Spicers Retreats. Right: One of the many breathtaking views along the way. Photo– Jo Hoban.

‘The rainforest was mindblowing’ Jo says! Photo – Jo Hoban.

Activity: Spicers Two-Day Scenic Rim Trail

The two-day Scenic Rim Trail is an enriching active travel experience run by Spicers Retreats, a company committed to protecting the environment, and providing sustainable ecotourism experiences for future generations. Experienced guides lead small groups through a region comprised of 30,000 hectares of World Heritage Listed National Park, Gondwana Rainforest, and Spicers Peak Station – a privately owned 2000-hectare nature reserve.

The trail showcases some of South-East Queensland’s spectacular high country and it is Queensland’s only addition to the Great Walks of Australia collection. All gear, food, drinks, and accommodation are provided, so logistically the experience is hassle-free. Some sections are steep and challenging so you need a good level of fitness. Hiking poles are provided to help increase stability, and they’re very helpful – I’m a convert! Our guide, Chris, was an affable and knowledgeable young man. He kept a caring eye on everyone, assisting as needed and providing an interesting commentary when relevant.

DAY 1 is spent making our way through the diverse flora and fauna of Mount Mitchell and eventually to its peak, where we’re rewarded with epic views out to Moreton Bay. We’re lucky enough to spot a juvenile koala in the wild, along with a red-necked wallaby, and a snake. In the afternoon we descend Mount Mitchell and traverse into Spicers’ nature reserve before heading up into Spicers canopy for the night.

DAY 2 sees us moseying along Oakey Creek bed before beginning a long, gradual climb up Cedar Mountain. We follow the mountain’s ridge and eventually scramble up over some rocks into the Gondwana heritage-listed rainforest. This ancient ecosystem is truly awe-inspiring ensconced in a light mist, with entangled vines, lush ground cover and a diverse canopy – a rare, and incredibly beautiful natural environment. The walk ends at Spicers Peak Lodge, where we’re greeted like long lost kings and queens and provided with welcome refreshments. Nature lovers and foodies will thoroughly enjoy this experience!

The Canopy is the perfect place to unwind after a hard day’s hike. Photo – courtesy of Spicers Retreats.

The accommodation offers ‘glamping at its best’. Photo – courtesy of Spicers Retreats.

A serene sunset at Canopy. Photo – courtesy of Spicers Retreats.

Stay: Spicers Canopy

Spicers Canopy is set on a lower plateau of the Spicers Peak Station property. It offers glamping at its best, and after a solid day of hiking it is so nice to be rewarded with a little relaxed luxury (not to mention a glass of wine!). Each African-safari style tent features king or twin beds with fine linen, bedside tables and a covered deck with a comfortable armchair perfect for taking in the views to Mount Mitchell. A communal main lodge has a generous lounge area and an open fireplace, a dining area, and sliding doors that open onto a wide verandah. There’s also an outdoor hot tub and cute firepit perfect for gathering for a pre-dinner drink or a stargaze.

A highlight of Canopy is the gourmet meals prepared on-site by a Spicers chef. They feature local produce, some of which is grown in the kitchen garden at the nearby Spicers Hidden Vale country retreat.

The staff at Canopy are friendly, attentive and entertaining, which makes the overall experience very enjoyable.

Sarah Bottle of Elegance & Grace. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Sarah Bottle of Elegance & Grace, and Jade Cook of Jade Beauty Skinstitute operate their businesses alongside each other out of this historic building. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Shop + Experience:

Sarah Bottle of Elegance & Grace, and Jade Cook of Jade Beauty Skinstitute share an old shop space in the tiny, charming town of Kalbar – located between Spicers Peak Station and Brisbane.

Sarah stocks a range of gifts and homewares featuring locally made leatherwork, sculptures, and ceramics, while Jade has a beauty therapy treatment room and nails station within the space. She stocks Dermalogica and other select beauty products, and a small section of gifts and homewares.

On the day we visit, Jade is tending to a sick child, but Sarah warmly welcomes us and shows us around. A teacher by trade, Sarah moved to Kalbar a year ago with her partner and young children. The shop is now celebrating its first birthday, business is going well, and Sarah and Jade are excited for the future of their unique, combined offering!

Owner, Mike Webster, stands in front of the old general store’s original shelves and rolling ladder, which now stores locally made relishes, brewery merch and more! Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Beer from the Scenic Rim Brewery. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

‘A paddle tasting sampler did not disappoint’ Jo says. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

The historic building was built in 1884! Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Eat + Drink: Scenic Rim Brewery

What an unexpected gem in the tiny town of Mt Alford this is! Just a 20-minute drive from Kalbar, the Scenic Rim Brewery is well worth a visit. Housed in the old Mt Alford General Store (est. 1884) Mike and Wendy Webster purchased the run-down property in 2014, convincing three levels of government that it was a good idea to renovate, extend and install a brewery. They opened in December of 2016 and it’s been onward and upward from there!

Mike was previously a builder with a keen interest in home brewing – he created his first brew in his kitchen over thirty years ago. The couple’s Dutch and German heritage means their menu is dotted with delicacies such as Bitterballen and Bratwurst, amid other healthy (and not-so) treats.

But of course, the highlight here is the beer! And a paddle tasting sampler did not disappoint. My fave was their newest brew, Beauty and Blue Spiced Pumpkin Ale – so damn smooth, and naturally brewed with local Beaudesert Blue pumpkins and water harvested from the mountains and valleys of the Scenic Rim.

Scenic Rim Brewery 898 Reckumpilla Street Mount Alfred, Queensland

David pictured on site with Cellar Door Manager, Sharon Gage, and Ruby the dog. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

The vineyards were planted in 2012 by David and his team, and the first vintage was produced in 2013. The Overflow Estate 1895 is surrounded by Wyaralong Dam. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

The cellar door was designed by architect, Con Zahos. It responds exceptionally well to David’s brief: a barn style, though sharp, modern & edgy, reflecting masculine and feminine elements, that blends well with the environment and topography. All the timber in the construct comes from the Morgan’s property. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Jo enjoyed a glass of sparkling and some bruschetta on her visit. Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Photo – Mindi Cooke.

Wine + Dine: The Overflow Estate 1895

15 minutes from the country town of Boonah, and 30 mins from Mt Alford and Kalbar, you’ll find this gem of a winery en route to Beaudesert. Owner David Morgan is a charming character who provides a wonderful introduction to the property, as we sit on the deck of his architecturally-designed cellar door.

David respectfully acknowledges that Indigenous people were on this land for generations. Though from the 1860s, the land became a farming plot. In 1895 Edgar Joyce, an Irishman, and his wife Nina Perse, bought the land and called it The Overflow. Fast forward 111 years and David Morgan and his wife purchased the land in 2006 from the Joyce Dynasty; they were inspired to create their own vineyard after visiting a friend’s Spanish Bodega. David extended the property’s name to The Overflow 1895 to pay homage to the previous owners.

The Vineyard’s rootstock was planted in 2012 and the Morgans have since nurtured the four unusual varieties that underpin their offerings; they are all grapes with Mediterranean origins well suited to the native terroir. Everything is done by hand at this vineyard, and the Morgans get so much pleasure from being able to share the fruits of their small team’s labour with visitors!

The cellar door offers a full menu and wine tastings on Friday, Saturday + Sunday (and a reduced menu on Wednesday and Thursday) – with live music every Sunday. The day we visit, I enjoyed a delicious local cheese and antipasto platter, some Towri sheep cheese yoghurt & tomato bruschetta, nicely complemented with a glass of their Storm Cru Sparkling wine. All divine! I can’t wait to return on a Sunday afternoon.

The Overflow Estate 1895 1660 Beaudesert-Boonah Road Beaudesert, Queensland

[offtosavetheearth]

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July 1st, 2018

Wow. What. A. Day. One of top favorites on the trip so far.

Breakfast in the hotel on the top floor starting at 7am, and we departed for a visit to the Guayasamin Capilla del Hombre and house at 9:30. I was F-L-O-O-R-E-D by Capilla del Hombre, and almost cried during the tour. The immensity of raw emotion and anguish in this Chapel of Man shook me to my core. I am not exaggerating when I say my outlook on life changed after seeing Guayasamin’s art.

Our drive was headed north toward the more modern part of Quito, passing the Pichincha Volcano and the Quito observatory. Above 9,000 feet, Quito is one of the highest cities in the world, with about two million inhabitants. According to legend, Quito actually used to be a lake, but one day the volcano cracked into seven divides, and water seeped in. The first inhabitants of Quito arrived 400 years before Christ, and they found the equator line 600 years after Christ by using the sun’s shadows. They have two avenues; one named October 12th after the day that Christopher Columbus arrived, and December 9th, the day that Quito was founded. The city was named after the people, who are known to have two different colors of skin due to the perpendicular rays of the sun at the equator.  

Arriving at the Chapel of Hombre, its exterior evoked themes of Incan architecture. His painting are influenced by Mayan-Quiches, Aztecs, and Incans, with themes of suffering, pain, and hope for the oppressed. The goal of his paintings was to show that while there has been hundreds of years of blood and suffering, there still may be peace one day. Oswaldo Guyasamin was an Ecuadorian master painter and sculptor of Quechua and Mestizo heritage. Born in Quito to a native father and Mestiza mother, both of Kichwa descent, he grew up poor and was one of ten children. His father worked as a carpenter for most of Oswaldo’s life, and one day he brought home a pre-colombian influenced basket to his son. From this moment, an artist was born. He was obsessed with the basket, and continued to collect Colombian and Pre-Colombian artwork for the remainder of his life. He graduated from the school of fine arts as a painter and a sculpture. His mother was the only person who supported his passion and aspirations, so he dedicated one of his first paintings to her. However at the start of his career, Guayasamin’s best friend died during a demonstration in Quito. This event helped him form a vision of people and the society we live in. His friend’s death inspired him to paint powerful symbols of truth in society and injustices around him. A life-long supporter of the indigenous, his themes of oppression in lower social classes allowed him to gain much recognition.

He traveled with Jose Orozco to many diverse countries in South America, such as Peru Brazil, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, and eventually to other parts of the world such as India. He observed more of the indigenous lifestyle and poverty, which later appeared in forms of anger, agony, and worry in his paintings. Guyasamin built this museum to capture the political oppression, racism, poverty, Latin American lifestyle, and class division found in much of South America. The Chapel of Man is meant to document not only man’s cruelty to man, but also the potential for greatness within humanity.

We stepped outside the chapel to purchase prints of his paintings and it was SO hard to choose one. I loved each and every one of them. I decided to get more tame ones for my apartment, and bought “Quito Azul”, a beautiful landscape painting of Quito with an emphasis on the power of its volcano. Additionally I requested “Rostro del America”, which depicted the face of a woman divided into two, with one half blue and crying, while the other half was red and orange with eyes wide open. This represented the coming change in America after 500 years of cultural annihilation and slaughter.

After, I visited his grave, which overlooked a beautiful view of Quito. He was buried under a large willow-looking tree, surrounded by monkey grass and ornamented with jewelry and chimes. There was several pots of fresh roses, and the wind blew the chimes so they gently rang. There was no better place for such an anguished man to be built, than that of this tranquil landscape. Comparatively, it seems that the most important leaders in Ecuador believe that life has a hopeful undertone, and continue to work towards a better future for their communities (I am dreading going back to the US; we all think that life sucks and were headed toward imminent corruption

Visitation ended and our bus driver took us down to a “mega-mall” with every American fast-food chain I could think of. I was in heaven.

I have been craving American food for a while here, and never truly found a restaurant that hit the spot. But today, I was satisfied. I got a cheeseburger, French fries, and a coke, followed by an iced Carmel latte with whipped cream from Dunkin.

When then drove up to see the Virgin of Quito. At almost 10,000 feet, the beautiful aluminum statue on Panecillo hill is the most recognizable and dominant landmark of Ecuador’s capital. However it is somewhat controversial because the woman faces the north, favoring the wealthy and bureaucratic. It was created in 1976 from 7,000 pieces of aluminum. She is pictured with in flowy robes, wings, her right hand in the air, and feet stepping on a snake. Around this plaza I witnessed indigenous people preforming a ritual dance for tourism purposes and felt sad that while they posed for pictures. It seemed to lack authenticity, and I felt they deserved more than working to showcase themselves to tourists.

We headed back to the bus to tour Colonial Quito, where they have a monastery, church and cloister on every corner. The San Francisco plaza was first, where we visited Compana church. This religious building was created by the Jesuits, and it best known for its large central nave, which is profusely decorated with gold leaf, gilded plaster, and wood carving. This church practices a theme of synchronism by incorporating suns all throughout the church, and two different crosses (solar and catholic). By incorporating these elements they converted Quito’s first inhabitants to Catholicism. It has the most gold of any church in the world, containing about 50 kg. It is Baroque style, with an additional incorporation of Moorish. Symmetry can be seen up and down the halls, especially at the front where there is a real staircase and a painted staircase on each side. Toward the altar, the lily of Quito’s remains are kept; she was the first woman to be an Ecuadorian priest.

The main plaza was last, which featured the presidential palace. Their current president does not stay here, but it is guarded by presidential police, and on its first floor has Incan architecture to pay homage to their roots.

We ended the tour by stopping at an incredibly overpriced chocolate factory, and from there I returned to the hotel for Felipe to take Sylvia and I to the doctor. I have trouble simply walking up hills here because 1) my lungs 2) the elevation 3) I am out of shape. Felipe translated to the doctor what happened to me, and he said it was a virus. I have not been able to get rid of it because we have been changing climates so often. He gave me fluoritex and vitamin-c, and told me to only drink warm liquids, don’t get cold, and rest. After that I got dinner at a pizza places a couple blocks down. I got pineapple pizza and it was really bad. The pineapple was too sweet, so I took it off and had a ham pizza.

Overall WONDERFUL day.