I once was a writer...

Michel Foucault said that he who holds the language holds the power  -- and that is why translators are the people who are changing the world, and have been doing so for centuries. Millennia, even. It is not enough to posses knowledge, it is important to be able to transmit that knowledge, to share it, to teach it. The problem is that not everybody will be able to understand this knowledge, unless they, too, are in possession of the skills necessary to understand. Translation is not just a matter of identifying the word in the source language and replacing it with the equivalent in the target language. If that were so, we translators (and I dare now include interpreters as well) would have proven to be obsolete in the late 1980s. Our success, our importance to the world, even, is the task that we perform, the impossible that we achieve: we are able to find the perfect oxymoronic juxtaposition of faithfulness  and beauty  in a target language from a source language. Ye...

If you have a half an hour to spare, stop reading and watch this video: Make Kony Famous 2012 If you don't have 30 minutes free, don't watch the video but continue reading. Do save this link, though, because you should find the 30 minutes. Really. (I am talking to you, Mami, you who are reading this and have no time for anything other than PEP and my wedding... find the time!) When we are small, young and naïve, we are taught that we can change the world. That ONE person can make a difference. That we, every single one of us, can help. But then, unfortunately, we grow up. We grow up and we start to realize that no, one voice does not count; you need a million, at least. And no, your vote does not make a difference; you need half-plus-one in order to make a difference. And unless you are a philanthropist and have millions and millions of dollars, or even better, euros, you cannot change the world. And the sad thing is that you don't only realize it, you live it, you ex...

What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet - right? But then, when remembering who you are, you need to know where you come from, or so said Mufasa. And both of those require your name. So your name is you . And changing your name changes you. Right? If a rose were called "violet" it would not be a rose. Yes? I don't know. I'm not even sure what side I'm arguing for. Or against. All I know is that right now I am faced with making the decision of what the heck to do with my name. My name is really long (last name, that is), because in Colombian culture people use both their father's as well as their mother's last name. It used to be that when women married, their name would be legally changed: They would lose their mother's name, keep their father's, and become "of" the husband. For example: my aunt was born Graciela Murillo Salazar. But when she married (a half a century ago) she legally became Graciela M...

I hate marketing. I hate it. I hate it -- because it works. You see, I'm getting married in seven months (yay me! Check out our wedding website ), and I need to do all the planning here in Germany for a wedding taking place in the Caribbean coast of Colombia. It does seem like a challenge, but I am an amazing planner and I can do it. Also, my mom and sister/Maid of Honor have it all under control. But, as I said, since I'm in Germany, there are many things I need to do online. So I have to rely on websites to kinda figure out what I want. Before I went online, I took advice from my good friend Hope (who also recently married) and closed my eyes and imagined my perfect wedding. This is what my perfect wedding looks like: At the beach, hopefully getting our feet wet while saying "I do", at sunset, with only our closest family and friends (so, no more than 20 people), drinking piña coladas and eating fish and coconut rice, listening to soothing background music a...

(This Pre-Christmas Post replaces the Monday post for December 26. Back to the normal Monday schedule on January 2, 2012) As you may already know (oh, come on, I'm sure you know), we have very large, illegal, guerrilla leftist movements in Colombia. We have tried to combat and defeat them for over 60 years, and we are slowly winning the war against them.. but we still have a long way to go. Before I go on, please allow me a little of your time to get on my soapbox and explain a couple of things. Listen, dude, we (Colombians) are not against leftist movements, like people (such as Chávez and his dictatorial regime, for instance) want to make you believe. We welcome the left, because we are well aware that without a left there can be no right, but rather meaningless unilateralism . Our nation was founded in 1810 based on leftist ideals. We, all of us, all of us Colombians, used to be leftist rebels who stood up against the Spanish monarchy. And we won. We understand and celebrat...

I'm not the God-fearing person I'm supposed to be. And I'm alright with that. Having gone to university in the US Bible Belt, though, I had my fair share of people trying to "save" me, which I appreciated. I mean, you have to really care about a person to want to save them from going to hell, right? I was lucky (blessed?) to have all those people around me, and am still lucky (blessed?) to have them put up with me and my agnostic ways after 10 years. The thing is, I don't believe in blaming nor accrediting God with everything. If something good happens (something over which you had some kind of control, like a good job offer or a raise or that your self-made dinner tasted delicious), then why should you claim that God did that? I mean, God surely gave you the talent to be the best you could be, and He (She?) even "blessed" you with strength and courage and whatnot. But there are certain things that YOU do for yourself. No one does them for you. At ...

Today's post is an exception to the normal Monday-publishing schedule because it is part of Blog Action Day 2011. I've always been complicated when it comes to food. People who know me only now (now that I am mature and grand and magnanimous) may *think* I am complicated - but I am the loveliest dinner guest, now that I've grown up. And I have my father to thank (I don't thank my father for many things, so you know this must be important). I believe in the "tough love" theory of upbringing. I believe in it because it works. It's not nice, it's not pretty, and it hurts a little - but it works. I had issues with food all along. I used to eat nothing but chicken. The story goes that we went to the beach one day to eat fish - what else would one eat at the beach? When the waiter offered all the varieties of fish available, I asked about the chicken. He gave me a weird look, but my mother was quick to interrupt: "Yes, please, she will have the chi...

I'm one of the most jealous women I know. But (I like to think) I also have some class, so I'm not one to make a scene. I'm the type of jealous person who will disappear. Move to a new continent, perhaps. *hint hint* Also, I'm no longer a big party girl... two things which don't go very well with my party-loving-beer-drinking-salsa-dancing-flirty-boyfriend. Lately, though, in order for us both to  be happy, I have decided that, for me, the party is over when I want it to be over; and, for him, the party is over when he wants it to be over. That means that, in party days, I come home at 10 PM and relax and enjoy me-time (which lately means blog-writing-time), and Honey comes home sometime in this lifetime and falls dead asleep. It's a very German lifestyle, and I'm not sure I like it very much. But I sure do appreciate having a little me-time, and not having to endure situations I don't want to endure. He comes home every night, mostly unharmed (I have ...

I know I shouldn't write when I'm bitter - especially when I'm bitter now , today, as I write this, and who knows when you'll read this. And then you'll think, "OMG, what a bitter person!" and that day, the day you read this, might be my most charming day. And you'll have completely missed it. So just trust me on this one: I'm super charming. But right now - right now, I'm kind of glad I am 8,765 km away from the people who I kinda want to hurt for being such careless, self-centered, selfish, mean, evil, stupid people. *Whew* I feel better already. We're all heard the phrase before, If you want something done, you have to do it yourself . I know it exists in English, Spanish, German, and some sort of version in Thai (which I, of course, can no longer pronounce). I bet you have it in your mother tongue as well (that might be interesting: write a comment on how YOU say it!). And we (or I; yes, I. I will take responsibility for myself ...

Everything I see that I like, I add as birthday or Christmas present to my wish list - whichever is closer. So far, my birthday wish-list (29 days and counting...) includes a squirrel, a cat, a dog, a garden, a bird with blue and black feathers (no idea what it's called), a full-grown cherry tree, cherries, strawberries, a liposuction (or better yet, the magical disappearance of my fat), skittles (I added those today, thanks to Irina), and my glallbladder. Yes, I'd like my gallbladder back, please. Honey hears me say that I want something more on my wish-list and gets a little annoyed. He gets that some things are just a joke - or, well, things that I want, but that I don't really want. Like the full-grown cherry tree thingy: seriously? Who wants a full-grown cherry tree in a tiny apartment? I want the cherries, of course; but the cherry-tree is just me being Veruca Salt, you know? Also, mostly, what I really want I purchase for myself, by myself. Because I can. Honey...

Honey was born in Bogotá, the capital of Colombia. Bogotá is 2600 m above sea level, on the Centran Andean Mountain Range. It's always cold in Bogotá; during the "winter season", it's like the stereotypical London picture: grey, muggy, rainy, cold, ugly. But during the "summer season", it's like perpetual spring: warm during the day (20°C/68 F) and cold at night (may go down to 10°C/50 F). There is no water, except for some lame water parks two hours away, and some cheap streams. I, on the other hand, was born on the beautiful Caribbean coast of Colombia, in Barranquilla, Golden Gate to my country. Between the Caribbean Sea and the Magdalena River, and the countless country clubs, I can't actually remember a holiday not spent on the water. It's always wonderfully hot in Barranquilla: we have no idea what this "winter" word (or concept, for that matter) means. We have dry summer and wet summer. But summer in any case. When it's col...

So, I've been having this recurring nightmare for about 10 months already. It doesn't come as often as it used to, but it comes often enough to be recurring. At first, it used to be night after night. Now it's more like once a week, or every two weeks. It's not always exactly the same, but the same situation happens and the same people are involved. Settings may vary, but the same thing ends up happening. The situation, although unlikely (I hope) is quite possible. What I mean to say is, my nightmare does not include demonic clowns coming from under my bed to kill me (actually, I've always thought there are crocodiles under my bed...), nor is it anything supernatural or including aliens happening. All of us involved are human, with human feelings and human actions. The first thing I do after I have these dreams is try to calm down (I wake up crying sometimes) and realize it is nothing more than a dream; everything within that dream (though likely) is impossible. I...

The Germans think they can do everything on their own. I'm not referring to the country in general. Germany, we all know, can in fact do everything on its own. Or, how many countries do you know of that can lose a war, and less than 50 years later be a world power? As in awe as I am of the country and its leaders and its people, I did not refer to them. I meant the normal, everyday, average German. They think they can do everything on their own. And what sucks--or what is amazing, really--is that they can do everything on their own. You see, we're moving into a new apartment in a couple of weeks. When we looked at the apartment back in November and decided that that was to be our new home in the new year, it looked perfect to us. But the owners said they would have the apartment renovated before we moved in. Excellent, I thought. I get a brand new life in a brand new year in a brand new apartment in a brand new country--with the same old boyfriend. Something old, something ne...