Where To Live

The air was hot and amazingly still. Two hours had gone by since the sun had set; the heat from midday was hardly letting up. Earlier, the air conditioner in my house had broken. I’d spent the day outside, kayaking to the beach with some classmates.  I lay in bed, exhausted.The skin on my arms was particularly warm, tinged red due to slight sunburn. I waited and waited for the Sandman to lull me to sleep.

I did the usual things when the still-buzzing mind delays rest. I grabbed my phone, and logged into Facebook. Boredom moved me to Twitter and Instagram. I slid my phone back to the floor. Still, my mind would not break its relentless consciousness. I’m about to go on Facebook again when I receive a text message, the kind that makes you want to laugh out loud. Midnight begins to makes its way nearer, and the conversation takes a rest. I let my mind wander.

My thoughts are moving slow, finally. I close my eyes, and notice that what I thought was a soundless night was not so soundless at all. There was a fan, whirring atop the head of my bed. The noise itself was monotonous, but it had the same exact volume as something, something familiar. Ah, yes. The fan carried the same volume as Salamanca, a city I would not soon forget. There, the nights were full of all forms of life. Cars were constantly heard in the streets below, and even more loud were the merry voices of the night owls still prowling the night.

I’ve heard that as a majority, people in their twenties tend to migrate toward the cities. The lure of life constantly changing and things always happening is appealing to younger generations. This obviously does not hold true for all, and maybe it’s a misconception, but I know that this idea definitely applies to me. I’m the kind of person who spends their time trying to find things to do that have yet to be done. I like researching different places just to imagine living there. After spending twelve years as a military brat, I have developed a thirst for new experiences.

Ideally, I would love to move to a city for college, or right after college. On my list are Seattle, Boston, and San Francisco. But those aspirations are often rethought, over and over. The West coast holds allure, a new place to discover. The East coast is familiar, and thus not as attractive. What city to choose, if any city at all? Lots of factors help a person make a decision. Sometimes, having your family nearby is what you want. But maybe what you really want is a full-blown adventure, to be someplace that you have no connection to whatsoever. Either way, moving to a city allows for any amount of discovery, meeting new people, and in the end, a grand quest to tell all someday.

Strokes of Genius

It is one in the morning, and you’re wondering endlessly what to do with your cowboy protagonist. A couple of months ago, you took up the project of writing a story about the Old West. There are characters galore, moving around your brain. You want a damsel in distress, who by no means is truly distressed, making for a more modern female character in an older setting. She finds herself amidst a war with the Sea Dogs, a gang of pirates that sails all the oceans, and is taken captive. The protagonist of the story, the cowboy, is also more of an antihero. He is an outlaw, but he has left his criminal life behind. He does not believe he can do good, and is soon thrown into the place of a hero.

But what is the conflict that spurs him into action? You’re thinking. Then it hits you like a wave, tiny details swirling with bigger ideas. A purple octopus, but colored a purple so dark it nearly qualifies as a rich black. It’s the kraken’s offspring, hungry to follow in the tentacle-y and horrifying ways of its mother. And the damsel not-so-in-distress tried to steal some gold out in California. She was a former, let’s say, partner in crime to the cowboy. While a captive of the Sea Dogs, the octopus finds that working for the Sea Dogs is a form of enslavement and takes the damsel. The cowboy hears what has happened after passing through a west coast town. Then the octopus declares war on a small village nearby, taking the people’s gold and killing off all adversity. One big mess that needs cleaned up by none other than the cowboy.

One of the best parts about writing are the little moments of brilliance. Sometimes, you’ll have a great idea, but no plot. This is a problem I kept running into for the past couple of months. I had the characters, the antagonist, and a setting. But without a conflict, or specific conflict that is realistic, there is no story, no suspense, no drive to write, and no real reason for a reader’s interest. I found that the conflict is perhaps the most important piece of a story.

When do your best ideas come to you, whether it’s for stories, businesses, designing a website, or even as simple as an exercise routine? Mine smack me in the face late at night, and then I stay up for hours writing away until I’m all written out. I think there is some kind of science behind being tired and your creativity levels. Perhaps it is the most ridiculous ideas that make the greatest strokes of genius.

Also, the story above--not what I'm actually writing. It just popped in my head and seemed like a good hook. Oh the puns...

The Immigration Reform

How many of you know someone who came to your country from some other country? It’s very likely you do, especially if you live in the States. The United States is amidst another immigration reform, one that could really revamp the policies currently in effect if passed. My question is this: how will these policies affect the United States as a whole, and will their effect on immigrants now and in the future be positive or negative?

Here’s the spiel on the current immigration policy, or at least what I can make of it. Citizenship can be earned by being born in the States or if one is adopted by a family in the States (this is called naturalization). This is the simple bit. Then comes the consistently controversial part: illegal immigration laws. The United States hosts over twelve millions illegal immigrants. Normally, when authorities find an illegal immigrant, there would be arrangements made for them to be deported. If said immigrant refused to leave their home, they could be taken to jail. Some people consider this action to be unconstitutional, as there is a lack of “due process of law”.

Now onto the immigration bill, proposed by the Gang of Eight (which I learned is a bipartisan group of eight senators and not some kind of Sherlock reference). Basically, if signed into law, the bill would grant a kind of amnesty to illegal immigrants currently in the country. From my understanding, immigrants who are here and working (thus providing for economy) will be able to gain a merit-based visa. This then gives a pathway to citizenship.

What policy is better? To define ‘better’, the immigration policy that is not only beneficial to the nation as a whole, but also more morally appealing. The bill proposed by the Gang of Eight would definitely benefit the economy. Because more citizens are seeking jobs that require a college degree, less and less people go into the more laborious, but very necessary jobs. These jobs tend to be taken by immigrants when they first enter the country. The proposed bill would allow those people to stay, and thus help the overall economy.

What I find to be most intriguing about this bill is the fact that it addresses immigration less matter-of-factly than other proposed reforms. In the United States, we are all immigrants. My mother came here from Spain. My father’s grandfather came to California from France, and even hid that he was French to avoid total adversity. America is still the melting pot of gold it was at its beginning. People still come here to make a better life for themselves and their posterity. Should they be deported because some old policy makes U.S. citizenship so covetable and hard to achieve? I think not. We are all the American Way.

What are your thoughts? I’ve barely scratched the surface here, as it is a very big topic.

A Day in the Life

My host family lived in the heart of Salamanca, right near the mouth of the Calle Zamora, one of the two busiest streets in the city. They lived on the fourth floor of an apartment building, and the mother’s parents lived on the floor right above us. All of my belongings had their place in my new room, and my host family was incredibly hospitable. The evening I arrived, they brought me to their summer home where I met some more of their family: the grandparents, the aunt, and a cousin. They seemed excited to meet an American, and I was just as excited to meet them.

Because my mom is from Spain, she had me arrive in Salamanca right on time for the biggest festival of the year: the festival of Santa Maria de la Vega, patron saint of Salamanca. For an entire week, there were concerts, big sales in all the stores, and food stands serving people all day and night. In the evenings, after taking a siesta, the family would go out and walk around the city. That in itself was amazing.

Salamanca had a certain vibe to it. There were people from all over the globe here going to the University, taking gap years, going on vacations. The air was calm, but constantly energized. There was so much history in every cobblestone street. Even the McDonald’s downtown made its home inside of a building that was easily 200 years old or more. That was one high class Mickey D’s.

Charro clothing

The Saturday evening before the day of Santa Maria de la Vega was a culmination of the week’s events. Again, the family and I left in the evening, this time to the Cathedral where a procession would be taking place. There were people dressed in the traditional Charro clothing of Salamanca carrying flowers to a shrine. Music played, flute and drums making an earthy kind of tune.

As the procession came to an end, we moved with the crowds out to the river, where I saw one of the most incredible firework shows in a while. The fourth of July would’ve been insanely jealous. Bursts of colors lit up the night sky and the water below.

As the show came to an end, the night really began. The clock struck ten. My host sisters, a friend, and I walked to the Plaza to join the hundreds waiting for the concert to begin. Carlos Jean was playing, a DJ that knew how to get the crowd moving. Nearly three hours later, we were walking home. We were tired, but something in the air made us not want the night to end just yet.

From Dreams to Reality

The school year is coming to a close, and the long anticipated summer holidays nearly a reality. Last night, the seniors from my school graduated. Not only do they get to escape into vacation sooner than all the underclassmen, but they are also on the path to pursue their passions. I have good friends that crossed the stage and earned their diplomas, and their futures are certainly bright.

Zooming out to an even bigger picture—the journey after high school. For most kids, it is pursuing a college degree. For others, it’s their time to step right into the world of work. If you read my earlier post comparing Gollum to college, my plan is to attend college (by the way, I have narrowed down my list of colleges to eight). While researching colleges, there was much angst, but I survived, like everyone else has or will. Watching where the seniors are taking their futures has helped me with where I would hope to apply this fall.

One of my friends is crossing the country to Los Angeles, pursuing a degree in the performing arts. She’s moving over there in the summer with her mother. She taught me that when I go through my list of colleges, I shouldn’t limit myself. Apply to a school on the other side of the country? Go for it, especially if there’s a school that you really want to go to. Don’t let anything hold you back. Be a Slytherin, but the good kind: ambitious and motivated to do good things.

Another friend is heading over to New York, studying theatre and education. She really is a people person, and definitely a performer. I know she will achieve her goals. She taught me that while going far can be fun, staying closer to home is not bad at all (even though she is going pretty far). She also gave some of the best advice on life in general.

If I talked about everyone and where their futures are headed, you might as well sit down to read a little novella. In a nutshell, I’ve learned that applying to college is fun, although the stress that goes along with the application process is overwhelming at times. If you know what you want to study, look at all the schools offering what you want. Who knows, maybe you’ll end studying in a city with a vibe you never knew existed and love it. As for limits, you decide those on your own. If you have a dream, pursue it.

On a side note, I will hopefully be posting more often. Cheers!

Study abroad? I think yes

Back in the fall, I went abroad in Spain. From landing in Madrid one cool day in September to coming back home two days before Christmas, my whole perspective of life changed. Going abroad taught me motivation to pursue my goals and the responsibilities that come with independence. Basically, if you ever get the chance to go abroad, go for it. It really is one of the best experiences you will have in your life.

We were rolling through the countryside, just outside of Madrid. In a bright orange European car sat my cousin, my suitcases, and me. Ahead of us lay the mountains, a couple of little pueblos and suburbs scattered throughout the outskirts of the city falling behind. I was quiet, not sure of what to say. My brain was sluggish, moving along in shock. I just flew into Spain on my own, not to return home for four months.

After picking me up from the airport, my cousin brought me to her apartment to eat and pack her own bags. She was going to her mother’s house for a little vacation. On the way there she would be dropping me off in Salamanca, where I would be living with a host family. My cousin asked how my family was back in the States and how great it was that we were finally meeting in person. I understood most of what she said, but had trouble speaking.

After leaving her apartment, she asked if she could practice her English with me. In her field of work, there is a growing need for English-speakers. As we left Madrid, she began to speak in English, and I continued to speak in Spanish. At some point I feel asleep, and after a cat nap was awake and in zombie mode again.

Two hours later, I was fully awake and full of anticipation. We were trying to find the street where my host family was waiting. I was looking out of the window, craning my neck to see what surrounded me. After driving across the bare, flat terrain that lays between cities in Spain, this new city captivated me with a swift energy. We went into huge roundabout, cars flying past, all of them small mechanical bullets compared to the typical American car.

Eventually we found the building where my host family stood waiting. I was greeted by the father and his two daughters, and later, by the mother and her two sons. I bid farewell to my cousin, and hello to a city I would soon be calling home. 

Gollum and his Relation to College

If you are aware of some pop culture, you’ll know who Gollum is: a nasty, ghoulish creature. After years and years with the One Ring in his possession, his being has rotted into this evil thing. In his mind there rages a battle between the weakening good and the growing evil. A lot of times, we watch him shift from himself, Sméagol, to his second identity, Gollum. Essentially, he is locked in this constant sort of existential crisis with no escape. This is where he begins to sound like college.

My fangirl self is very quick on comparing reality to TV series and books. If anything, this helps make problems much less like a giant squid of anger and a lot more like handling a hedgehog. Rather than being daunted by SATs, I think of them as the O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to take at Hogwarts. Yes it sounds silly, but whatever works right?

Back to Gollum and college. Throughout high school, I was always thinking of what I wanted to study in college. I went from physics to art school to linguistics to communications. Every year, I would have this mini WHAT-AM-I-DOING-WITH-MY-LIFE crisis. And every single time, I ended up deciding on communications. But for some reason, angst just loves high school students and messing with our heads. Let’s just designate angst as Gollum.

Now it’s just a matter of getting into college, which allows for another attack of Gollum. There seems to be a lot of pressure on the people of my generation when it comes to college. It is pretty much expected of us to go and at least get a Bachelor’s degree. We are fed the idea that the only way to get a job is by going to college. Otherwise, you can find yourself wandering the streets begging for money.

While having some sort of college degree opens more opportunities, it certainly is not the only way to go. For a lot of the creative thinkers (writers, dancers, actors, artists) college is a great opportunity to go in depth and learn more about your art. But if you are good at something, and can prove it, you are all set. If you go to college, you should study something having to do with your art, or something that complements your art. If you are a writer, study not just writing, but also what you like writing about. With the fine arts and theatre, you can study education, and become a teacher later.

Another thing for college that can be a nuisance is deciding where you want to study. What I keep telling myself is that I don’t need to decide that now; I can apply, see where I am accepted, and go on from there. But I still become overwhelmed at times. I have a list of 28 possible colleges that really needs narrowed down. I tell myself that I should only apply to schools I would be happy to go to, which has helped. So Gollum, while the battle in your head is unstoppable, the one in my head, and those of my generation, will end. Eventually. College is but the next great adventure.