Jimanda gets engaged!
So here's how it went down. I finished my law school exams, got drunk, then flew away to Ireland for about ten days. Shortly before leaving (and perhaps while in said drunken state), I decided that I would not return to the States without asking Amanda to marry me. But I didn't yet know when/where/how it would happen.
During a relaxing week of stout beer and constant music in Cork, I spoke with my grandfather who informed me that the magnificent Kelly clan descends from a Youghal, a seaside village on the boundary of counties Cork and Waterford in the south of Ireland. My friend and I drove there on my last day in Cork where I decided to buy Amanda a traditional Irish wedding ring called a Claddagh (you can read about the ring's romantic history and tradition at
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claddagh_Ring).
The idea was to buy something to honor our family traditions, and something that has a multi-cultural feel to it. Also, the ring is fantastically less expensive than anything with a diamond, and I'm still very much a boy on a budget. The ring carries additional meaning for us because Amanda has worn a similar ring nearly every day since she was a little girl, but hers recently broke.
I bought the white-gold ring from a wonderful jeweler in this town where my family's heritage springs, then continued my good luck in a nearby pub where I won my first game of darts while drinking more of Ireland's glorious stout beer!
But that's when the trouble began.
Distracted by thinking about how I would propose to Amanda, I soon became the most absent-minded person in the world. I left my camera at a bar (which was returned), left my wallet in a restaurant (returned by a waiter chasing us down the street) and very nearly forgot to buy my flight to meet Amanda in Scotland. Somehow, I made it to Dublin two nights before I was scheduled to fly to Scotland, my mind fully distracted by my upcoming proposal.
The night before a flight took my braindead self to Glasgow (where I was then to take a train to meet Amanda in Edinburgh), I called Amanda's father and asked for his blessing. He, being a good American man, was in Costco at the time...but said some very nice things to me* and gave his blessing. (* Amanda still interprets his comments as "well, Amanda can't do any better than you, so you have my blessing.")
The next morning, I flew to Glasgow. I stumbled around the airport for a good hour, trying to convert Dollars or Euros to Sterling so I could buy my train ticket to Edinburgh. After finding the right train, I arrived in Edinburgh more unprepared to be in a new city than ever before. I didn't know the name or address of the hotel, didn't have a map or guidebook...I didn't even know if the train I had just taken had traveled east or west! But I did know that the ring was in my pocket, and very soon, Amanda would be my fiancee.
I got off the train, called Amanda who talked me through the directions to the hotel and walked a steep, uphill mile to the hotel, all the while, thinking about how much I had missed her over the last week and thinking about when and how I would propose. It wasn't until I was going up the stairs in the hotel lobby, thinking about what an odd job hotel porters have that I realized....wait a second....shouldn't I have more in my hands? Why is this staircase so easy to navigate? WHERE THE HELL IS MY LUGGAGE???
That's right...I left it on the train.
Amanda and I had a smoochy, though brief, reunion which quickly turned into frantic phone calls to the train station, a brisk walk back to the station, a struggle to understand the blue-collar Scottish brogue, then, finally, the recapture of luggage.
When we returned to the hotel, I immediately began trying to convince Amanda to walk with me to the castle atop a mountain in central Edinburgh, where I had decided to propose. It wasn't far, in fact, we could see it from our hotel room window. However, she was tired from her redeye flight and suggested a quick nap before doing anything. We laid down on the bed together and I immediately became overcome with emotion. I was nervous. My body trembled and my heart beat like I had just run a marathon. I hadn't seen my love in more than a week and I knew sometime very soon...I would ask her to become my wife.
"Jim, are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." I replied.
"Sweetie, are you sure?"
"I'm just so happy to see you."
But my nervousness continued unabated, as did Amanda's concern for me. I realized that there was no way I could attempt to play it cool any longer. I asked if she was ready to get her gift from Ireland. Amanda, always a big fan of presents, excitedly said yes. I moved my bag to the side of the bed, where Amanda was sitting and knelt down, as if to lift something heavy from the bag. Everything moved in slow motion.
"I want to give you something to remind us who we are, where we're from and what we will be together. Amanda, will you marry me?"
The ring.
Tears.
"Of course I'll marry you!"
In the days that followed, we explored the Scottish highlands, visited distilleries (with free tastings!), shared laughter and thoughtful discussion with good friends, and enjoyed shockingly good weather. As if this time together worked out exactly as it was meant to be.
It wasn't until we were back in front of a computer that we learned more about the Claddagh ring. While the Claddagh Amanda had worn since she was a girl sat on her dresser in New York City, the band severed in half, we read the following line on wikipedia:
"Another legend of the ring states that if you are wearing the ring on the right hand and the band breaks, the person you are with is destined to be your true love."
Los Roques and the Pookie visit
Amanda came to Caracas last week!
She was supposed to be in Asia for work, but the trip was mildly delayed. So she had some time on her hands and decided to put it to good use. Afterall...that´s what miles are for, right?
Not wanting her to feel too far from our NYC home, we managed to wander into a Pride parade one afternoon.
I have to say...for a fairly conservative culture, the gays really know how to be fabulous down here!
Then it was to Los Roques. As you can see, we were very distracted by all of the scenery...
As was I... :-)
Sage advice...
So I asked a friend for career advice. For some reason, this part of his message resonated with me. Maybe this will mean something to anyone out there looking for a job!
¨Graduating with Honors, passing the bar exam, and living in the library is less than or equivalent-at-best to a law degree, passing the bar exam, living and researching abroad, leadership experience, global-business management and negotiation, and an undergraduate degree from a well-respected basketball school in the Mid West. The bar exam is what gets you in the door (and your network, etc).
But the job is given to the person who makes the best sales pitch once that door closes behind you and the interview begins. That's a life lesson, kid. Cause when it comes down to it, undergraduate, advanced and professional degrees still only explain that you've mastered the minimum skills necessary to lace-up your wing-tips. The Firm is going to want to mold you into a player. All they need to know is that that you want to play THEIR GAME THEIR WAY and that you
WILL BE rookie of the year. Period.¨
Colombia, Caracas y Casa
Ahhh...Colombia. What a great time. I won´t attempt to fully describe everything I saw in five days, but I can say that it was wonderful to get out of Caracas for a bit.
Oddly, my Spanish was´t much better there than it was here, but I was lucky enough to have good friends to chaperone me through Bogota & Pereira.
And drink Aguardiente with me!
Anyway, I´ll let these pictures tell the thousand-ish words. The trip was great, especially the drive through the Andes (minus the three hour, high-altitude traffic jam at 11pm on Friday night!)
Strangely, coming back to Caracas was eerily like coming home. I have only been here for about a month, but when I was in another damned traffic jam on the way into Caracas, I felt that sort of familiar relief one has after a trip abroad.
Speaking of home...Amanda arrives in Caracas on Friday morning! We still haven´t decided if we´ll go to island paradise,
Los Roques, or to the
Amazon. Once she leaves, I will have a mere three weeks of Venezuela left.
But somehow I get the feeling, I won´t be gone from my Latin American home very long...
Sí, sí, COLOMBIA!
No time for a substantive update (and I really need to get some of the good pics I´ve taken on the blog), but I wanted to tell anyone reading this that I´m heading to Colombia this weekend for a friend´s wedding! Anyone from NYC a couple of years ago probably remembers Jorge Murillo...we often played good ol´fashioned guitar-rock at parties.
Anyway, I fly to Bogota early tomorrow morning, Juan Maria is picking me up, we´ll collect my international-wedding-partner,
Paola, then head to Pereira for the wedding. I can´t wait! Hopefully, pictures will follow!
Condi and Chavez
"It would be difficult for any commission to debate more fully, to investigate more fully, to criticize more fully the policies of the United States government than is done every night on CNN, on ABC, on CBS, on NBC," she said."That is the point of press freedom -- that in a democracy the citizens of a country should have the assurance that the policies of their government will be held up for criticism by a free and independent press without the interference of their government," she said."The citizens of the United States have that assurance. I sincerely hope that the citizens of Venezuela will have that assurance as well," she added, standing up from the table, turning on her heel and walking away.(From the
NYTimes)
It is rare that I find myself in such strong agreement with any member of the Bush administration. But Dr. Rice really hit the nail on the head here, at least in principle. While I don´t think any educated person would say that any political discussion on these networks constitutes a
full criticism of current policies, at least the possibility for that type of discourse exists (the good stuff is on NPR, PBS, C-Span and other nerdly channels which I miss ever so much.)
This weekend, I attended two massive protests. The pro-Chavez, government-sanctioned (and obviously, fully funded) march was on Saturday. My neighborhood was filled with red-clad Chavistas, spray painting and chanting in the hot sun. On Sunday, I joined one of my activist co-workers (there are quite a few!) in the larger, less graffiti-prone anti-government march down the same streets. Fortunately, I was treated kindly by both groups, though obviously standing out as one of the very few gringos in attendance. There were rumors that CIA operatives were taking pictures. Riiiiiight.
I have to say, being in Venezuela and learning as much as I possibly can about the closure of RCTV (if you´re interested, read more
here), I am reminded how well the media has it in the US. Sure, there are serious problems with the media in the U.S. (just ask
Judith Miller, or those whose minds have been fully numbed by Fox News´ incessant support of the government), but at least there are other channels in which people can speak. I´m encouraged further when taking into consideration the large portion of the U.S. population which has access to the Internets.
Here, the public has just one local news channel that is not controlled by the Chavez regime. And Hugo has already said he has his sights set on shutting it down for alleged abuses (which is perhaps more of an icy warning than an action plan). Few Venezuelans have internet access...which, by the way, is run by a recently nationalized company, CANTV. There have been threats of censoring the internet here, but I´m not sure how realistic that is.
Deep down, I´m hoping for an opportunity to meet Chavez and to ask him a question about this issue. (note: if I could ask Chavez about ANY issue, it would who writes such clever analogies for making fun of Bush, i.e. ¨Bush is more dangerous than a monkey with a razorblade¨...GENIUS!)
I would ask him to explain how any regime, his, W´s, China´s, can claim to be strong when it is unwilling to stand up to mere criticism. Corny analogy ahead (I really need to know who does this for Chavez!), but a diamond only becomes beautiful
only after enduring pressure and hardship. I think the same can be said for governments. Just as Rome began to fall when it traded democratic principles for security (i.e. exacted more control on outside influences), even a well-intended Socialist government can quickly turn to dictatorship. If Chavez is so averse to suffering the slings and arrows of mere ideas to the point that he shuts them out...then I fear Venezuela may be on the long, desolate road to Havana.
Al Fin de Semana
I´m still getting used to life in Caracas, so I´ll save my observations on how life here is different from NYC once I really feel like I´m more of a caraqueño (Caracas-ite)
Things at work are great, but definitely among the more challenging things I´ve ever done. Not only am I struggling to quickly learn the ins and outs of complicated financial transactions...but I´m doing so from the perspective of a smaller market outside of the United States. So the foundation of knowledge I have, which is limited to begin with, isn´t entirely relevant. Oh, and I´m learning everything in Spanish. While I know enough to interact with people on the street or to buy a coffee (which is so deliciously strong here!), I´m floundering when it comes to understanding how corporate stock buybacks cause the stock to lose economic and political rights as compared to non-corporate stockholders.
But enough of the boring stuff...on to the protests! As Dan has more completely explained, there are a plethora of student protests in Caracas now, challenging President Hugo Chavez´s decision to close the nation´s oldest and most popular television station. I´ve seen a handful of protests to date, but as I type this, there is a HUGE pro-government protest literally at the end of my street. Thousands of Chavistas are dressed in red shirts, waving signs and singing songs. One catchy one goes ¨Ooh! Ah! Chavez no se va!¨ This means that Chavez will not leave power. If my research is correct, that was the chant during the brief coup in 2002, where Chavez was removed from power for a couple of days (and the impetus for closing RCTV, because he said that they promoted the coup.)
I´m cautiously observing from afar, because of the ¨anti-Imperialist¨element of the protests. George Bush and America have both come up in the chants I´ve heard, so I´m doing my best to watch what´s happening while honoring the promise I made to my mother before arriving...not to appear on CNN!
That said, I´m off to take some photos and maybe some video of the protests. I have to be careful because there are rumors that CIA agents are infiltrating the rallys...and I couldn´t look more American if I were wearing a cowboy hat and draped in the stars and stripes. My boss has already said that I need to get a baseball cap for Caracas´local team. Perhaps I´ll go back to the mall for that today.
In the meantime...¡Viva Venezuela!
