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Communication works for those who work at it.

~John Powell

            Communication is key. Haven’t we all heard that one before? In today’s world there are so many forms of communication, yet some of them do not seem to communicate well. Some studies say that less than 10% of meaning comes from words. I am not quite sure where that leaves us today when a large portion of our communication comes from texting, emails, Facebook, Twitter, etc. The question of how much are we communicating with each other in today’s generation. Sure, new technologies like Skype have helped bring back face-to-face communication, but that is not the sole source used today. Even with my conversation partner, we use other means of communication that meeting in person.

            One of the first things that my conversation partner and I did upon meeting each other was exchange phone numbers. We knew that this would be crucial in arranging our meetings and hangouts. Email does work, but we know that phones get much faster responses. We have talked on the phone a few times, but it always remains short, with conversations like, “I’m running a few minutes late, but I’ll be there soon,” or “¿Puedes almorzar mañana?” The majority of the time, however, we just text each other. It is easy, and the other person can respond at her convenience, whether that is while with someone else and not wanting to take a phone call or during a boring class. Plans (or the cancelling of plans) happened really fast over texting. Other texts were just a “Oh, how was your day?” or “How did your really impossible, going to be the death of you test go?” Texting is a huge part of this relationship, as reflected in pretty much our entire generation.

            Another thing that happened quickly in the conversation partnership was to become friends on Facebook, because everyone knows that if you are not friends on Facebook, then you are not friends in real life, right? Once we were able to find each other, a whole new world of opportunities was opened. Our ability to creep on each other exponentially expanded. We were able to learn things about each other and ask questions that we may not have otherwise thought to ask. In our long absence of meeting, we were able to keep up with each other through words, messages, statuses, and pictures. In our first meeting after spring break, she already had plenty of questions about my trip to Guatemala, which was great for me to hear similarities and differences between there and Columbia. I am able to see pictures of her family back home, which I will never meet unless I do take her up on the offer of a place to stay if I ever find myself in her country. We can write on each other’s walls whenever we want to tell one another something.

            Of course, we do always have our face-to-face meetings. Now that both of us have our allergies under control we are trying to meet as many times as we can before I leave for the summer. Even though it will be sad, she is excited to make fun of the lisp I will have when I come back speaking Spanish from Spain. Perhaps we can Skype over the summer and continue to help each other with languages because she will still be in class and I will be in a foreign country where I will have to speak another language in order to survive. It is possible that the Skype will help with our communication because we have had our fair share of miscommunications over texts, but a lot of those come along with the language barrier that battle with each conversation. Maybe we will even go real old school and send post cards to each other.

Maybe Not the End of Something

            I decided early on that my last reading reflection would be done at the end of the semester, and looking back, I would choose my favorite work. I have read over the syllabus three times, and nothing has jumped out at me. I enjoy poetry, but the type of poetry at the beginning is the type of poetry that I don’t always get but I like it just the same. The non-Hemingway short stories were nice reads. I like Hemingway’s short stories much better than his books, or at least the ones I have read (or more like attempted to read). None of his stories stood out as different from the rest though. I really enjoyed reading Billy Collin’s poetry but I don’t know if they were more moving or just entertaining. Because of this, I have changed my mind. I am going to read pieces from the first reading assignment and see if I feel any differently about them.

            Here is a quick synopsis of where I am before rereading them. “A Clean, Well-Lighted Place” by Hemingway: I had never read it before, so it was new to me. It was simple. I did not have to read too much into it. It’s a story about life. Things happen. “The Second Coming” by Yeats: I read this before reading Achebe’s Things Fall Apart, which I loved (But I can narrow that down to two likely causes- 1) It was about Africa and 2) it was an easy read). It was really confusing until I had it explained to me, and then it was only confusing. “The Psalm of Life” by Longfellow: New and juxtaposing, quite uplifting in relative terms, of course. So shall we begin?

            Hemingway. This is a story of judgments and self-righteousness. The assumptions of the situations of others are unbelievable. One man thinking he is better than another man. He deserves to have what he wants, not even taking a moment to consider it from someone else’s point of view. It is all about perspective. Maybe that was a little too harsh? Location is key. We all have our favorite spots that we like to go, a place for quiet, a place for studying, a place for reading, a place for something. There were two lines that stuck out to me, “he felt the difference,” and “‘I wouldn't want to be that old.’” I chose these because in the first one for the feeling of intangible things. There is no way that it is literally felt, but it is. I like the second one because I totally agree with it. I don’t ever want to be old.

            Yeats. It is still confusing, and it is a lot to take in at once. It is like reading the book of Revelation. The images are so unfamiliar and unimaginable that one just does not even know where to start in order to see the whole picture. Let’s try and take this in smaller pieces. “Turning and turning” like a night you cannot fall asleep, when insomnia hurts. “Things fall apart” so better things can fall together. “The best lack all conviction, while the worst/ Are full of passionate intensity.” It seems so fundamental. Then the crazy images come, and I feel un-relatable. It is scary, yet sublime.

            Longfellow. It says this is from the heart of a young man, and I believe that because I see it as a heartfelt message. There is so much to do in this life, so why waste time thinking about thing we cannot change. Let things go, do not worry about death, and get out to live. It makes me think of the saying, “Not all that are alive have lived.” It gives a lot of advice. Some things that people may need to hear on a regular basis. Use your life to shape others. It is important to not take things for granted. Things do not always come easy but just keep on trekking.

            It has been an interesting, up and down last three months. We have seen sad, depressing, weird, shocking, deceiving, and thought provoking. Reading it again, I have gotten a new perspective. Look at it this way. Then look at it that way and see something different. Next time, you’ll see something new. Oh, you know, it’s just art.

Pronunciation and Enunciation

            After not meeting for an extended period of time due to both of us getting extremely sick, me being out of the country, and various things coming up in her life, Angela and I finally got to meet up again. We decided on lunch at Potbelly’s because of its convenience and delicious food. I got there and looked around, but she was not there yet. Neither of us seems to be the timeliest of people, which works out well because then neither of us ends up waiting long. When she arrived a few minutes later, she had a friend with her, Gabriela I believe. Her friend from the ESL program was younger, and I soon realized not as able to speak English, but she had not been in the program nearly as long. I was able to pick up on most things that she said in Spanish and she was able to understand a good portion of my English. Angela was able to help both of us though when things weren’t making sense.

            Angela and I spent the first part of the lunch catching up on everything since we had last met. She asked all about my trip to Guatemala and asked about different things she had seen in pictures on Facebook. I asked about her cat, her family, and class. When she started talking about class, she realized that the two of them had a question for me that had really been giving them trouble in class. It was about vowel sounds. It didn’t make sense to them that certain combinations sound the same and how similar it can make words sound. The example that they gave me was sheet. Apparently when they first learned it, the ee sound sounded more like a short i sound, and then their professor would explain that they could not say it like that because then it was a bad word. From there, the conversation progressed from me saying the different words to them quite loudly saying sheet and shit over and over, in the middle of a restaurant, during the lunch hour. Well, worse things have happened to me. After that, Angela began to tell us this story about her trouble with her friend Hardik. I won’t further explain this one even though she did have to explain it to her friend, and I really hope that no one around us at the time spoke Spanish or else that would have been slightly embarrassing.

            As soon as this conversation was over, we moved to a discussion of fruits. I’m not sure how that transitioned, but it did. Her friend was trying to tell me about a dessert she always has when she is at home, but she could not remember the English name of it. She and Angela spent about five minutes trying to think of the fruit while I was trying to think of one that sounded similar to what they were saying. Eventually, one of them looked it up to find out that it was guava. It was a comical situation as we all tried to figure it out.

            At some point, it became time for them to go elsewhere. I explained to Angela how she could get quarters, which was a very hard word for both of them to say, from a bank, although I not sure why she needed them. We said something that reminded her of how I cannot role my r’s, which is awful for someone that is learning Spanish, so she assigned me homework. It is to practice rolling my r’s for three hours a day. Now, I haven’t done it for quite that long, and I don’t think I am making any progress, but hopefully, one day it will happen. Who knew that I would get homework from my conversation partner though?

Learning To Wear Pants

“The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber” by Ernest Hemingway

            It did not take long to figure out that these characters were on a hunt in Africa. The conversation between Wilson, Macomber, and Margaret seemed strange and tension filled. Macomber’s situation had not yet been revealed, but being a Hemingway story, it might never be shared. Within a couple of pages, it becomes apparent that Wilson is not an ethical man, encouraging illegal practices to go on in his camp because he believes they work better. According to Kenneth Goodpaster, there are three symptoms of unethical behavior: fixation, justification, and detachment. He fixates on having the best personal service so that he can the most luxurious life without having a broader perspective of how it affects other people. He rationalizes the beatings by convincing himself that they would rather have that than lose their pay, not allowing the workers any chance to speak for themselves. Then he moves onto other topics of conversation, turning to jokes to avoid further talk of the subject. As a person without morals, Wilson surely will not be beneficial for the growing relationship problems between the Macombers.

            Hemingway writes about the actual lion hunt, not leaving it to the iceberg-ian technique, which was surprising. The description of the hunt from the lion’s perspective on page 13 was incredibly depressing. Spoiler Alert: the death of Macomber, however, had no effect on me, due to the desensitization of the murder of humans in today’s society. My response to the lion goes to show why I do not like to go hunting, even though I love shooting, just not live creatures. When the lion charges Macomber, I have a hard time finding anything wrong with his natural response for several reasons. First, I by no means can prove that I would do anything different. Second, everyone else in the hunting group is a professional hunter. They had all done this many before, and who is to say that they did not do the exact came thing the first time a lion charged them? Macomber obviously liked to hunt and fish. At points in the story, it describes his knowledge of duck hunting, trout and salmon fishing, and big-sea fishing. He has a manly side that enjoys the outdoors, but I believe this was his first time to be in a potentially dangerous hunting situation, so without that experience, he has no reason to have a reaction to shooting the animal.

            Moving onto old Margaret, she is considered one of “the hardest, the cruelest, the most predatory and the most attractive.” I believe the industry she was involved in only pushed her to further harden her personality. It is competitive, one has to be the best and associate with the best, and one cannot take anything personally. She learned how to get what she wanted without being too concerned about the means that got her there. It all become about satisfaction and control. If something, or someone, did not satisfy her, then she moved on to something new. It was never enough for her thought to just move on unless she kept all of the control. In the case of her husband, she enjoys finding other men to bring her pleasure, but even though she finds that in other men, she cannot stand the thought of her husband moving on to someone else. She must remain his only woman because she feels the need to retain control over him. The thought of him moving on, not even necessarily to another woman, just in life, is too much for her to handle. As soon as she realizes that he may have found the courage to leave her egocentric self, she knows that she must take action to preserve control over the relationship. Her self-perceived need of control continued to the extent that she could not even let him be killed by a buffalo. If anyone was going to take him out of this world, then it was going to be her. Because of this, he became unable to leave her with his newfound courage and she got to have the last say about anything in his life.

            Wilson and Margot did not have a huge secret scheme to off Macomber. The two of them are rather intelligent in the ways of bettering their own lives. They would have come up with a better plan that left a lot less up to chance. It was not until Margaret saw her husband being successful in the buffalo hunt that she realized that he had learned out to wear “the pants” of the relationship. With this new skill and knowing how she had treated him in the past, she become fairly certain that not only was she going to be left without pants, but she also would not have someone ordering her to make sandwiches. She was going to be left in dust with no sense of control. After her lifestyle, she was not going to have the pants taken from her, so she did something drastic. Will she regret it? Possibly, but then she will just control her emotions.

Travels

            I was told to choose six poems, with no direction as to how to pick them. I will make this interesting. I will judge a poem by its title. “Advice to Writers.” Well, I could probably use some of that. “Introduction to Poetry.” I read it in high school. Should I read it again? Perhaps. I’ll come back to it. “Questions About Angels.” I do have some questions about them that I would like answered, but in all honesty, I do not believe a poem will answer them. “Forgetfulness.” Certainly I do know all about that. “The Man in the Moon.” My childhood could come flooding back, so I will read it at nighttime. “Sunday Morning with the Sensational Nightingales.” This one sounds quite specific and slightly epic. “Budapest.” I would like to go there since I have never been to Hungary. I am going to read that one. Turn to page 69.

            “My pen moves along the page.” This does not sound like it is about a foreign city, but I continue onto the next line. “Like the snout of a strange animal.” I try and visualize this until I realize that is silly. Where is a pen? I will make this real. It reminds me of a puppet, probably because it is one of about three shadow puppets I know how to make. I could have a puppet show right now, but I should be productive and that would be a little weird. Continuing it says, “Shaped like a human arm.” Is that not a brilliant comparison? Similar to some that we read during a Thursday class. “And dressed in the sleeve of a loose green sweater.” Oh, mine is naked then. I am seriously considering getting up to be a long-sleeve shirt on just so my strange animal can be clothed. Having decided that even considering that is a little ridiculous and it is completely unnecessary for this exercise, I continue onto stanza number two with sustained hopes about the poem.

            Unknowingly, my eyes are about to be opened to the sheer obviousness of the next line, “I watch it sniffling the paper ceaselessly.” Why had I never thought of writing in that way before reading this line? That is exactly what it looks like. It is a little silly but true. I might not ever think of writing in the same way again. “Intent as any forager that has nothing/ on its mind but the grubs and insects.” This comparison is a little deeper than the “shaped like a human arm” line, more thought provoking. I believe that if I were an animal finding food is what I would focus on. I could not go to the store and buy it, and even if I did have items available, I certainly could not cook anything. I would have to take things as they came, resulting in a much simpler yet less luxurious life. “That will allow it to live another day.” My life would be less stressful if I only focused on what was necessary for me to live until tomorrow. I would definitely have fewer worries. Much of my anxiety would be lifted.

            “It wants only to be here tomorrow.” That is an easy request, not nearly as complicated as most of mine end up being. It undoubtedly is less needy that I am. “Dressed perhaps in the sleeve of a plaid shirt.” There is some humor to add to a topic I am surely going into too deep. I think I should wear plaid tomorrow in honor of my poetic revelation. “Nose pressed against the page,/ writing a few more dutiful lines.” Now I can relate to this line, with a little bit more technology. I am here, face close to the screen, fingers on the keys, one stanza away from the end, mere lines away from finishing. No longer necessarily writing because I feel inspired, but I am left with some motive of completing the assignment.

            Respond to the last stanza and then I am done. “While I gaze out the window and imagine Budapest/ or some other city where I have never been.” As it comes to find out, like me, Billy Collins has never been to Budapest either, well at least when he wrote this sometime before 1995. I had completely forgotten the title of the poem and why I had decided to read this one until reading the last two lines. I really would like to go to Hungary sometime. Speaking of, well more like writing of, it is lunchtime.