CONCEPTIONS PART II: BOUNDARIES

Upon re-reading my first conceptions post, I realized it sounded a bit dramatic, especially when the entire post was dealing with motos. But the thing is that, it is through these small every day moments that we realize that our conceptions of somethings are perhaps not totally absolute and thus we start to wonder about other things. So many things I have experienced here have made me think twice about my approach to life and the things I hold as truths, and so whether it is motos or boundaries the consequences are larger for me. And now BOUNDARIES.


Boundaries in Providencia are fluid.



Nature seems to rebel against fences. Overpowering them; mixing the private with the public.



Even when there is not a sense of rebellion, the boundaries between what is man-made and natural blend. They exist as part of a continuum.



Public and private property exist, but walking into a restaurant in the middle of the day to Skype because it is the only place in the island where we get a good signal is OK.



Admittedly since the place belongs to the pizza



it really shouldn't be much of a problem.

Still things belong to people I'm sure, but it seems as if they don't always care to portray that. I mean, I have come into Pizza's Place only to find a group of hens sitting at the table, I actually felt I was intruding on a gossip session amongst old ladies. I'm sure the hens have owners but it is ok for them to roam around, hanging out in Pizzerias, trees (yes who knew hens liked to hang out in trees) or next to empty soda crates.


Yes the boundaries of property are just so fluid... Meet my dogs, Rex and Roxy,



They of course are not actually mine. As a matter of fact they are not even stray. They have owners and live in a house, but every time I walk by their house I whistle for them and they come out and walk the rest of the way to Pizza's Place with me, hang out while I do my internet business and then walk me back. Their owners don't seem to mind even though they don't know me.

And still surprisingly enough it seems important to put a lock on a space that has so many other points of entry,



But perhaps the most noticeable fluidity exists within the boundaries of physical space. Indoor and outdoor can sometimes be confusing concepts here. This is our restaurant,



we eat here every day and when we are under that roof we are inside even though we are still stepping on sand. Did I mention that if you don't feel like going in and asking for the menu this might help,



But even the mangroves seem to challenge the necessity for roots to be underground



Merging the air and the ocean



And at another local bar, why bother having separate tables and menus. When so often a table



also makes such a good menu



This is a local eatery,



bar also, but you are welcome to bring your own alcohol and just hang out, as a matter of fact you might have to because they are likely to run out but the party is likely to continue. The restaurant/bar is really the kitchen of their house, but the kitchen of their house is really a dance floor, as Matt and I discovered last night. If you run out of room there, that is not a problem because the restaurant/bar extends into the public road to the other side where there are bamboo seats and a tent with a hammock.



It is a larger establishment than it seems at first sight.

Even the boundaries between garbage



and decoration are fluid.



Not to mention between food and decoration,



and eating utensils and tree ornaments.



But I guess it is all part of the fluidity between real and imagined.



Who needs a real window when they can simply paint one?



Even the cemetery seems to challenge boundaries by being the liveliest cemetery I have ever seen.



At sunset it even makes sense that the dead would want to come out and enjoy the light.



The street is for motos,



also for cows;



for children to run and play.


And of course, the shower is a parking spot.



And most of all with its clarity,



and waves the ocean blends one world with another.



And with your feet being pulled into the sea, simultaneously on land and water you realize nothing is absolute.

ON THE VERGE

Last year as we prepared for our senior art show it was suggested we seek professors who were not so familiar with our work and get varying perspectives on it. One of the professors who saw my work really loved my palette and asked me to describe it, “they're (my colors) a bit like earth tones kicked up a notch,” I suggested. “Yeah!” he said excitedly, “they are like earth tones on acid...” This remains perhaps my favorite description of my work and ever since then I've thought of my colors as such. Well, it seems my colors are on the verge of overdose.

It is hard for that not to be the case when you are in a place where color is so intense. Where you have never seen a blue that is more blue, or a green so varied and intense in the midday sun. And every house is a different color, intense as the sun, the ocean, the land. The tropic is alive and it seems it has infected me; and just like the spirit of my figure is seeping out into the atmosphere, it appears the tropical atmosphere has seeped back into my soul.

I had forgotten how much I love blue. I love it in its intensity that reminds us we came from water millennia ago and just so we come from an ocean recreated again in the womb. For the first time in a long time blue is in my work. And it seems so strange and simultaneously exciting. It is impossible to be surrounded by water, by the sea of 7 colors, and not succumb to it. This work as such is Fluid.

The following pictures are approximations to the piece. The best I could do under the circumstances and with the equipment available to me. The red tones are pretty close but the blue is not quite right. Still I hope you enjoy.



The tropic is alive. It is intoxicating. It is within. I am on the verge.

THANKSGIVING

Every so often something happens that reminds me just how little and also how much I know.

The night before last we had dinner with a couple of Swiss people we met on the island. One of them was in Providencia for a couple of days only, as she had come to Colombia to look at some projects that the organization she works for funds indirectly. This meant that she had been to lots of places in Colombia I have only dreamed of going, a lot of war-torn places, that are beautiful and unique but with an incredible amount of suffering.

She talked about these places and the situations people where in, and confessed she had been so surprised and impressed. Karina (that was her name) has traveled through most of Latin America, and always thought that Colombia being a much wealthier place than most of its neighboring countries, probably did not need as much foreign support as say Bolivia or Peru. But upon leaving the major cities she discovered the extent to which war has affected the country, leaving displaced people everywhere, with an incredible lack of education. I know about this, but when she was talking about it in detail I felt so ignorant, to me it is abstract, to her having come from 4 weeks of traveling around Colombia it was specific

She was so impressed though with the programs that have been set up by community leaders, a lot of them priests, who are doing a lot with very little to help their community. She was surprised that a lot of these priests were not even concerned to push religion on people but just wanted to help. This made me happy to hear.

I told her about my mixed feelings about Colombia, about how I feel I don't really know my country any more and that I don't have the necessary tools to try and effect any sort of change. She said, trust me you know so much about your country, so much more than other people and you should trust yourself and your instincts.

She then told me about what had surprised her the most, the spirit of Colombian people. This I know. She said she was surprised that amidst war and lack of resources people seemed to be in generally high spirits, that this was not the case in a lot of the countries she visited where a sense of hopelessness and resignation exists. Karina was amazed at the resilience and strength of people. This I know. She finally confessed that it seemed to her after being all around Latin America and only coming to Colombia for the first time on this trip, that Colombian people were the nicest and most warm people she had met in Latin America. This I did not know. It felt nice to hear it though.

The conversation with Karina made me realize how much of who I am and the way I approach life is distinctly Colombian. Despite the fact that I have spent now a considerable amount of time in the US and that a lot of my ideas and approach to life has been influenced and affected by the US point of view, my core is distinctly Colombian. And again I felt so proud of being Colombian at that moment; of being part of a group of people that are warm and welcoming, loving and more than anything extremely hopeful. And then I gave thanks.

THE CHILDREN OF PROVIDENCIA

Every day when we go to lunch as we walk down one block to the beach we see children getting home from school to have lunch, riding their bikes, waiting at the pre-school to be picked up by parents. They laugh and shriek and really bring the middle of the day alive.

The children of Providencia are really wonderful. They steal your heart, and they are not shy about it. They will yell hi at you as you walk by, ask your name, and sometimes even demand you take pictures of them if they see you with your camera.

This has happened to me twice. Once when some older boys were playing and, as they left, the oldest brother told the youngest he was too young to go with them to the mountain to fly kites. So that the youngest boy was left sitting on a crate in front of his house as 5 or 6 boys left playing (who as a younger sibling can't sympathize with this?). As I was about to leave, the youngest boy started saying hello to me and smiled at me as he said, “No le tomes fotos a ellos! Tomamelas a mi!” Don't take pictures of them! Take pictures of me! He sat on his crate happy to be the center of attention,


and when he was bored he said “ok chao.” Bye. A two-year-old comfortable bossing around a twenty-two-year-old.

Once as I walked to the beach to take pictures of the ocean the entire pre-school stuck their heads out and started screaming for me to come in and take pictures of them. Miss Vicky who runs the pre-school, at once welcomed me in and said I didn't have to take pictures of them, but that they really loved it when people took pictures. So I proceeded in, (which meant that I was still outside), to take pictures of them as they ate their mid-morning snack.

Some made faces at me



some posed comfortable being the center of attention




some a little more shyly



some not caring enough to stop eating their snack





or to stop playing and talking with friends




They all yelled bye and still as we walk to lunch they will wave and smile.

It seems like the average family in Providencia is on the larger side. Our waitress Suzette's boyfriend has 16 siblings, it is true he is probably in his 40s and families are smaller now but you still see about 5 or 6 children per family. So that it makes sense that these children are used to having to demand some attention. And the tourists with their cameras and amazement at their comfortable laughter are a perfect source of it. But it also seems like they are used to this outside attention enough that they feel comfortable not always having to pose if they don't want to. They sometimes choose to keep hanging out and eating their candy rather than smile at you






And even if they asked you take their picture as an entire class once asked me, sometimes they quickly forget about it and go back to what they were doing.



These children who are uninhibited and generally have grown up in the way my mother often describes her childhood, running around streets with few cars, playing sports in the middle of the street, making up games with kites and floating ships, with tons of neighbors, coming home at sunset for dinner, seems quite lovely. It is true that probably getting to be a teenager in this island where there are no movie theaters and only one street could seem frustrating (although it must be nice to have your own mode of transportation by the time you are 12), but for a young child who is still not totally aware of what else is required of life than playing, loving and eating Providencia with its warm people and safe, somewhat wild environment seems like a nice place to be. And so the children oscillate between acknowledging your presence,



and quietly enjoying the sunset