August | 2008 | ¡Órale, pues!

Blog
About

Knowledge is Power in Payne Park

August 17, 2008 at 11:04 pm | Posted in Life in the US, The Bucket, Working | 3 Comments

What a flippin’ fantastic day! After only a month of chaotic, hurried planning (for those of you who don’t know about planning events, people usually spend 6 to 8 months planning a block party), we managed to pull it off. “Knowledge is Power” was to commemorate those who have been killed violently in Pawtucket and CF and bring the neighborhood together in a nonviolent, positive setting.

There were about 500 people and miraculously enough food to feed them all! The Cape Verdean ladies ran a kick-butt kitchen and I am still in awe of them. Spoken word, hip hop music, two dance groups (CV Dream Team and Victorious from Brockton), a frickin’ adorable seven-year-old musician with dreads, and a candlelight vigil for those who are gone.

I am blown away by how peaceful, happy, and helpful everyone was. No fights, no beef, nothing. Clean-up was a dream, and I was amazed to see all our kids pitching in. The same guys who sit in the park, sell drugs, and mouth off to the cops were the ones with trash bags picking up plates and water bottles and moving tables inside.

Three of the cutest booty-shakers ever

Food line

The Grill Master (400 burgers and 400 hotdogs)

Hanging Out

Dakarai Dancing

Victorious from Brockton

Alvaro, Paris, Melissa, and Jenny

In Memory

You can't look hard while drinking a fruit punch juice box

Trying to look hard with a juice box

Dancing with the lil' one

Candlelight Vigil

Paint Store Guy Comes Back Into My Life

August 10, 2008 at 12:39 pm | Posted in Cancun, M.r Puppers, Weirdness | 2 Comments

Five years ago, Mr. Puppers came to us when we lived right over a paint store on Avenida Palenque in Cancun. The parents of a student brought him to me where I worked when he was about two months old. And he was a skinny little thing that I could carry in my arms.

I took him home in a taxi for the first time and when we got out, the owner of the paint store called me over and told me that he hoped that this wasn’t a permanent addition to my apartment. I assured him that it wasn’t, and that I was just dog-sitting for someone.

The owner of the paint store bitched and moaned for the next year about Mr. Puppers’ barking. No big deal, I just ignored him the best I could.

I haven’t thought about this man in years. Last night, as I brought up one of my favorite topics of conversation (whether Mr. Puppers prefers America or Mexico), Homeboy reminded me of how much the paint-store guy hated Mr. Puppers. Apparently when I wasn’t home, he’d come bang on our apartment door and Homeboy wouldn’t answer. Then Homeboy and Mr. Puppers would go out to play in the park and paint-store guy would glare at them.

Not a terribly interesting conversation, of course. But later that night, I was in bed reading and Homeboy was watching Atlante play soccer in Cancun. He comes into the bedroom screaming, “Paint-store guy! Remember paint store guy?” Um, yes, we just talked at length about paint-store guy.

“Well, I just saw paint-store guy on TV at the game! He had an Atlante shirt on and was cheering!”

How random.