Life is such a strange complicated web of stories. I have been avoiding writing simply because I just don’t know where to start. The stories of my life hold a massive weight, making me cry while I sit under the shower. I don’t know how to explain to my lover that sometimes I just don’t want to make love, laugh, or do anything of consequence. Sometimes I just want to sit and be, until all those roaming hurtful thoughts just slowing seep back into the darkest crevices of my mind.
I have been thinking about family a lot lately. I am not even sure who that includes anymore. The people I share genetics with, the massive raging exception being my mother, often cause me harm. In my 23 years of age, I have been told and treated as if I am lesser by family. My mother, father, sister, and I are deviant- we dare not to be economically rich. When I was little, my aunts and uncles always invited me on trips. One aunt and uncle just took my sister and me, but my other aunts and uncles only ever invited me so that I would take care of their small children. I hated them even then strangely enough. I understood I was being bribed. We are paying for your trip because your parents cannot afford it so you better listen and take care of our kids. I have never told my mother, but I secretly hated those trips to the beach. My parents feeling obligated to buy me new clothes so I wouldn’t look bad (poor really) in comparison. I always felt a deep sense of guilt, as if I was abandoning them for something “better.”
There was only one instance on one of these trips when I felt a sense of pride. One day everyone was sleeping in waiting for the sun to go down. I was deeply annoyed that I was wasting my time inside when a beautiful sun awaited just beyond the corner. Having no say in the matter and desperately wishing I could escape, I quietly read on the balcony. As everyone started to awake, the sun half hidden on the horizon, I dutifully got up and helped the children get their things together. I went into the kitchen to get a drink and found Elly and her grandmother in the kitchen. Elly was my political aunts’ cousin who is also my age that I was meant to companion. Elly was turning and twisting a handheld can opener in the air, both women staring at it as if it was a space ship. Confused, I continued to watch. Elly, frustrated, begins to bang the can opener up and down exclaiming that the stupid thing was broken. Floored, I suddenly realized that neither of these women knew how to use a regular can opener. I walked into the kitchen, politely grabbed the can opener and started to open the can. Annoyed, Ely asked how I knew to use the can opener. I looked at her strangely, believing everyone knew how to use a can opener. When I told her so, she smirked informing me that MOST people use electric can openers. Despite her air of importance, I felt vindicated. My class had given me a practical skill, marking the first of many moments in my life in which I would thank my lucky stars I was not well off like my cousins.
I may sound ungrateful. After all, they could have found some else to take, but it is not enough. I cannot love or be grateful for a bribe. You cannot love or enjoy the moment when you know you exist for another’s convenience. I was a paid nanny, no longer invited once the children could take care of themselves. You don’t know all the stories yet, but you will. You may think I misunderstood these situations, but I promise I didn’t. Only four days ago my uncle told me I was ashamed of my life, embarrassed for not being rich like them. He truly has no idea. I wonder if he could fathom how happy I was when they stopped inviting me. If he could even imagine how disgusted I feel each time I see them at Christmas, comparing their stocks and “outdressing” each other to show off their economic power. Turning their noses down at my mother and me when we dare to wear jeans to a family function. They are what I am embarrassed at in life. Each day I avoid spending time with them is a massive jolt of power. In that first moment of freedom, it was as if I could now stop being the girl in the corner and start taking up some space in the world. No longer exhibiting a polite and silent demeanor, I subtly fought back for the rest of my life.
San Jose- Nicoya- bus stations- Nosara Shaty towns pave the whirling twirling roads Catch a shuttle- Tamarindo bust...shit No bus from Tamarindo to Nosara Nicoya instead please
Hours down the bumpy road up and down up and down Itching to see playa Cows and horses color Every rain colored hill top 30 minute rest stop Cafe' con leche please
Bus- stop- near Nicoya Call a taxi- wait Get to bus station- wait Wait- wait -wait Wish we had the money to take a taxi
Nicoya bus station- other wordly Street dogs beg under benches Uniformed teens carry MTV book-bags Peanuts and carbon monoxide mix in the air In this Tico meeting place
A brown aged man with faded hat Picks dirt from his finger nail A young couple exchange parrot kisses Languidly admiring the country side
Rain starts falling- bus windows stuck "Oh shit" To which a man replies "No shit- water"
A woman advertises her goods "pepsi fria y platano con limon" Bump and Grind No Street Signs Miss our stop... shit Call another taxi Phone card doesn't work Well Fuck...
I was five years old and idolized my ten year old sister. It would be the only time in my life that I would want to be like her.
My grandmother’s home is a typical large Florida home. Papi had gone to the store that day and had bought us some hula-hoops. We were ecstatic and ran outside with them. The warm spring sun welcomed us as the soft moist grass lay under us. Papi’s fruit trees swayed with the soft breeze as the intoxicating scent of papaya filled the air. My sister held both of them close to her. They were both different colors, and I asked her if I could have the purple one.
She looked at me with a hard face and said “No! You get the ugly pink one because it’s ugly just like you.” With that, she tossed it on the floor next to me. I looked at it with melancholy brown eyes. My sister played with hers looking at me laughingly. I cried knowing it was true, but I nonetheless loved the hula-hoop. I loved that simple pink ring of plastic because it meant that I wasn’t the only thing that was ugly. I picked it up with a tear stained face and carefully brought it up to my waist and started to sway my hips. It fell to the ground with a thump.
“God Nina! You can’t even use a hula-hoop,” she laughed.
I looked at her with fierce determination, picked it up and tried again and again until I finally got it work. I felt free in the days warm sunlight, and thought for a moment that I was worthy of being with her, but then with an overcast sky up above she came up to me and pushed me down to the ground. My sister took my perfect hula-hoop and tossed it aside. I stood there sobbing as my sister walked away laughing. I decided from then on to be anything but what she was even if it meant being ugly.
Anai often sat on the steps of her home and read books from her mother’s library. She lived in a typical island cottage near the bay. It was a two story home that pointed at the tip with a small shuttered window for the attic. It was a sweet impressionist yellow with a white porch that hugged the entire house. The shutters of the windows were a dark forest green and opened wide to allow all the warm sunlight into the inviting rooms. Green bushes surrounded the entire house and one leaning palm stood out at the front of the house. It was an elevated home and had some long cool grey steps that led up to the door, and it was on those steps that the real changes in her life would occur.
Sitting on the steps one day reading she heard a noise. She got up and slowly went down the steps. She searched around for the whimpering that played at her ears. Anai looked near the plants and pushed through the lush bushes. After some time, she finally found the small source of sound. It was a tiny black lab. It lay there still as death covered in dirt with nicks and cuts all over. Anai was horror stricken at the state of the little puppy. She tried to carry it, but as soon as she touched the black rough fur, it shrieked in pain. Anai didn’t know what to do. She grabbed her blanket from the porch and covered the puppy before running in to get her father. He came out with her and looked at the puppy.
“Anai, I don’t think there’s really much we can do to help it,” he said.
“NO! There has to be something!” she shouted, face wet with tears.
Her father looked at her sympathetically, “I’m sorry, sweetie. Do you want me to help you carry it to the porch?”
She nodded softly and her father carried the poor puppy to the porch as it whined and yipped.
She sat there crying for some time sobbing as she delicately petted the puppy. After a moment, she sensed another presence and looked up to see a man. He had a strong old scent of cheap tobacco and books. His dark rough hair came down and covered his shoulders. His equally dark beard pricked his face oddly while his cheeks sagged down his face like a wrinkled old t-shirt. She looked at him for a long time and slowly followed the deep lines on his face to his eyes. It was her neighbor. Miguel, her nanny, had told her stories about how he had once been hospitalized for going mad, she had never been scared before but now she found she had goose bumps at how these chocolate eyes pierced her soul. His hands shook nervously as he slowly kneeled in front of her and whispered to her, “I can help you with the puppy…” he stood and waited for her to answer.
She hesitated for a moment, and then slowly nodded her head and followed him across the street, hoping her parents wouldn’t see her.
She stepped into the drafty home and anxiously looked around at her surroundings. The living room was dark and stifling. The heat rose up from the floors and seeped through the cracks in the walls. “What is you name?” The old man asked while meticulously clearing the empty table.
She jumped at the simple question and paused cautiously for a moment until finally uttering “Anai”.
“My name is Mateo,” he said apparently done clearing the table.
Anai sat with the puppy and waited for Mateo to tell her what to do. At his blank stare, she began to worry and carefully whispered his name, “Mateo?”
“What? Who are you? Why are you here?!” he screamed.
“Mr. Mateo! The puppy, remember? You told me you’d help me take care of the puppy – because it’s sick? Remember,” she asked as she backed away from him.
“Oh…yes yes … put him here on the table.”
She hesitated and then moved forward delicately in her rose colored shoes and placed the little black lab on the table.
“Ok” Anai sighed and tried to decide what to do next. “I’m gonna get some water. Do you have any towels?”
“Eh … yes… I may,” and with that he began rummaging through his things while Anai fetched some water. He passed her the towels and they both tried to wash the puppy and tend to its scratches as it softly yipped and wiggled.
“I have children,” Mateo exclaimed suddenly. “No… I had children. I was a daddy” he begins to sob, “Are you my little girl?”
“No… I’m sorry Mr. Mateo.”
“Wait … Who,”
“Anai… remember the puppy Mr. Mateo.”
“Oh… my daughter Annie wanted a puppy. We could never get one because my son Daniel was allergic to them. My wife and I were trying to find another pet to get them, but then … do you want to take the puppy for a walk?”
“The puppy can’t go for a walk because it’s sick Mr. Mateo.”
“What happened to it? Did you hurt it? Why did you hurt it?!”
She shrunk back into her seat, “It’s just sick sir, and I just found her.”
“Oh…” He got up and walked around the room. “Ok my dear, you understand we need to take care of this puppy?” Anai nodded in confusion. “Well, you can be the mommy and I’ll be the daddy. No wait… you’ll be the mommy and I’ll be the godfather. You need to take care of the baby but I’ll help you when your not here. Ok?”
Anai sat there wondering as she fiddled with the lace on her white cotton dress. She was frightened beyond reason, but when she looked into his eyes and she saw only warmth and kindness. “Yes, I can be the mommy, but I have to go home.”
“Home?” Mateo asked perplexed.
“Yes, sir. I live right across from you … in the yellow house with the porch.”
“Yes, that’s true. Will you come and help me take care of the puppy?”
“I’ll come tomorrow after I’ve found some food we can give him. Do you have a blanket he can use?”
“Yes I do,” he said. He walked into another room and came out with a soft blue blanket. He held on to it for a minute looking at Anai, but she gently took the blanket from his hand and placed it on the pup. “Annie, what will you name the puppy?”
She looked at him oddly for a moment a then asked him, “I don’t know Mr. Mateo… what about Luna…what do you think?”
“If you like it Annie I like it,” he told her while he looked at the puppy.
“Ok Mr. Mateo I’ll be back tomorrow after I’ve done my chores. Is that ok?”
“Hmmm? Yes, yes it is fine. You will visit right?”
“Yes Mr. Mateo but please don’t forget about Luna,” She said as she petted Luna gently on the head. “Bye Mateo!”
“Bye,” He answered as she walked out the door and slowly walked to her porch.
She sat there for a moment then got up. Anai ran from the porch and just kept running. She needed to get away. She ran hard all the way down to the beach. Panting from exhaustion she enjoyed the crisp wet summer scent of the ocean. She removed her rose colored slippers and let down her silky almond hair. She hurried to meet the soft warm waves of the ocean while the white frills on her dainty dress swayed from side to side. She looked out to the ocean for a moment, and then slowly sat on the dark wet sand as the wave’s splashed on her thin legs and pointed toes. Broken shards of shells softly pricked at her honeyed skin as her thoughts lingered on the madman and the puppy.
Just this morning, she was reading on the porch of her home and now she made a decision that put her in a strange position, but she just couldn’t imagine seeing Luna die. Her largest concern at this point though was Mateo. How would she keep her family from knowing she is visiting the “madman” daily? Is he really a madman though? Anai couldn’t help but think that he’s not as violent and as crazy as they’ve painted him. Her parents had always felt the need to frighten her about things. She decided that she needed to talk with Miguel about it. He would keep it a secret for her, and after all he had been the one that had told her about Mateo in the first place. Maybe she could get some more information from him.
She thought of the conversation her and Mateo had earlier. He had called her Annie and had referred to his children. It had never occurred to her that he could have had children. She wondered if they were somehow the cause of his illness. His features were also strangely delicate. He had a rough beard and was very dirty, but his skin seemed soft, almost as soft as her mothers. His hands, unlike the other men in the area, weren’t ripped dry or callused from working on the boats. She would definitely have to pick Miguel’s brain for some more information.
She curiously fiddled with a shell, moving it in-between her fingers creating a pattern. After some thought, she decided that she might keep her distance from Mateo so that she could observe him further while taking care of Luna. He had lived across the street from them for as long as she could remember, yet she knew nothing but the rumors Miguel had shared with her. A dog barked and chased seagulls excitedly in the distance. Anai was startled out of her thoughts and realized that she was going to be late for supper. She stood up to quickly and the broken shells pricked the soles of her feet. She lifted her feet for a moment and pressed them down harder. She looked ahead and ran pushing her feet down hard on the shells.
Her lovely dress was now dirty and fringed with sand.She would have to climb into her room unnoticed before going down to dinner so that her mother wouldn’t see the shameful state of her dress. She slipped on her shoes and hurried home. When she got there, she climbed up the tree near her bedroom window and quickly took off her dress. She had no time to shower, so she took a sock from her drawer and hurriedly brushed the sand off of her body.Satisfied with her work, she slipped on some shorts and a t-shirt and ran down the stairs.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and helped Miguel set the table, and couldn’t help but remember Mateo’s earlier actions. She carefully set the silverware and went to get her little sister. Lily was only 2 years old but Anai adored her. She whined as Anai tried to play with her. “Lily, it’s time to eat.”
“No,” Lily said simply as she sat and played with her teddy bears a bit longer.
“Come on Lily.” Anai tickled her vigorously and they laughed and went down to dinner, Lily’s pudgy legs wobbling the entire way down.
They reached the table and Anai helped Lily into her chair. They all sat down at the table and started to eat. As she shoveled her mashed potatoes into a mountain, she thought about what she would need to take to the puppy. She was glad she was on summer vacation. It would have been much more difficult to manage this situation if she had to go to school. Maybe she should try to save some of this steak. On the other hand, maybe she could use her allowance to-
“Anai.”
She quickly looked up wide eyed at her father. “Yes.”
“You didn’t answer my question sweetie. Where did you leave the puppy?” He asked softly.
Her eyes opened even wider and she looked away a moment. She tried to think fast. She hadn’t thought her father would ask about Luna. “Oh Daddy… I took her to… the animal shelter with Miguel to see if they could do something for it.” Miguel mouth hung in awe and Anai shot him a sharp look daring him to speak.
“Is that true Miguel?” Asked her father sensing something was out of place.
“Yes Sir. We took the puppy to the shelter,” he spit out quickly.
Her father waited for a moment and then turned to her. “Don’t get your hopes up to much sweetie.”
“Oh, I know dad,” she told him quickly and stared at her plate hoping her father couldn’t smell mashed potato guilt. After finishing dinner, she helped clean up and went upstairs quickly. She jumped into bed sweating a cold exasperated sweat. She had just lied to her father. She had never lied to her father. Before she could even think about it for another minute, she passed out in bed.
Anai woke up early the next day and took a shower. She took her bag and put her bathing suit and her book, The Secret Garden, into it. She went to the kitchen and grabbed some leftovers for Luna, and tried to avoid Miguel. She knew he would never say anything to her parents, but she felt guilty bringing him into her lie. Once she had all her things, she ran to door.
“Anai,” called Miguel from the kitchen door.
Anai sighed, “Hi Miguelito! I’m in a hurry so…”
“Sit,” he ordered her pointing to a nearby stool. “We need to talk.”
“Talk about what Miguel,” Anai asked with her soft hands neatly placed on her lap.
“You know very well what young lady. I lied to your father yesterday and I deserve to know why,” he asked waiting for her answer.
Anai sighed and told him the whole story without stopping for breath. She told him about the puppy and Mateo's help. When she was done, she took a deep breath and waited for his reaction.
“Anai, what you’re doing isn’t safe. I know you think he’s ok but a person like that may be very unpredictable,” he said.
“I know Miguel but I’m sure he wouldn’t hurt me. Please don’t tell dad. I’m right across the street so you can keep an eye on me and I promise to tell you when I go over there.”
“I don’t like this Anai, but he doesn’t sound as crazy as he has been depicted. He is still unpredictable so PLEASE keep in touch with me. If I feel that, there is even a flicker of danger in what your doing I am telling your father and calling the police while I’m at it. Do you understand!”
“Yea!! Thank you Miguel,” she squealed as she embarrassed him.
“Ok don’t worry. Just please be alert and careful.”
“I will,” she said as she walked out the door.
She hurried because she would have to make an appearance at home later. She got to Mateo’s house and knocked on the door softly, trying to brace herself for whatever was ahead of her.
Mateo came to the door and opened it a crack, “Who’s there.”
“It’s me Mateo, Anai.” She waited a moment and saw his hesitation. “Mateo its Annie.”
He quickly opened the door and let her in. She tried to smile lightly and entered the home cautiously. She saw Luna on the threadbare sofa and quickly went to her. He had bandaged her wounds and had washed all the dirt off. He had placed a blanket over her small frame and had apparently given her water with a bottle. She knew at that moment that he had to be a benevolent person. She looked at him as he stood there; his body hunched over like Quasimodo, a character in one of her mothers many books. He was frightened of his own shadow or maybe she, a twelve-year-old child, frightened him. She realized that she had invaded his world, his pain.
“Thank you for taking such good care of Luna,” she managed to say finally.
He didn’t respond for some time. His restless gaze made it difficult to look him in the eye, but she forced herself not to act unglued. “She’s hungry.” He finally said after a while pointing to Luna.
“Oh! I almost forgot. I have some food for her. I want to buy her some actual dog food but that will have to wait till this afternoon.” With feigned normalcy, she dug into her bag and started to break the meat into tiny pieces to make it easier for Luna to chew.
“Do your parents know you’re here?” Mateo asked suddenly.
She was shocked at the question, but answered “No.” He sat down and looked down to the floor with sad eyes.
“You should not lie to your parents Anai. Your parents love you and would not like to know that you are a visiting… well me.” Anai didn’t know what to say. She had never heard him speak so rationally and let alone use her real name.
“Mateo, what happened to your family?” She was surprised at her own boldness but felt she had to seize this opportunity.
He looked at her for a moment the said, “They died and that is all you need to know. They are dead. Dead.”
She regretted the question almost instantly, as he seemed to get nervous again. “Mateo how did Luna do over night?” She asked quickly before he could think about it any longer, but she could tell it was too late.
“SHE WAS FINE! Do you think I’m incompetent!” he shouted wildly as he clenched his soft tan fists.
She forced herself not to cringe. “I’m sorry Mateo.”
He looked at her and then looked away. “It’s alright Anna. Can you leave me alone for a while?”
She hesitated but Luna looked much better. “Ok. Can I come back tomorrow?”
“Yes, but right now I need to be alone.” He attempted to tell her softly. At that, she left. At the door, she looked back at him for a moment. He wasn’t crazy she decided. She walked out with heavy steps. She attempted to quicken her steps but found she couldn’t.
Anai walked home and went straight to her room. She was too tired to run to the beach, so she decided to lay there and try reading, "Might I," quavered Mary, "might I have a bit of earth?" In her eagerness she did not realize how queer the words would sound and that, they were not the ones she had meant to say. Mr. Craven looked quite startled."Earth!" he repeated. "What do you mean?"… “might I have a bit of earth?"… "Anywhere," he answered. "There! You must go now, I am tired.” You must go now… You must go now. Anai stopped reading, the words were becoming jumbled. She knew she had too much on her mind to read at that moment.
She lay there playing with a stray purple string from her thick pillow comforter, and thought about Mateo. He seemed to be getting better, until of course she had mentioned his family. She was convinced that they must have left him or worse. She knew there was no point asking Miguel, because if he had known anything he would have told her. She was convinced that if Mateo told her it might help him get a bit better. Anai sat up and decided that she would have to pass the time until she could go see Mateo. After telling Miguel she was back, she decided to do so chores and play with Lily. The day seemed agonizing long until finally she rushed through dinner and went to bed.
She woke up early the next day and got dressed into her beach shorts and t-shirt as quickly as she could. She rushed downstairs to talk to Miguel before she left.
“Good morning Miguel!”
“Good morning Anai. You’re up quite early,” he said with an arched eyebrow.
“Yes. Are Mom and Dad still home?”
“No. They left early for work. Should I assume your going to go visit Mr. Mateo today?”
“Yes Miguel, and please don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
“I always worry when it comes to you young lady.”
She grabbed an orange from a basket in front of her, “Ok bye Miguel. See you later”, she said running out.
“Be careful,” he called out after her.
Anai ran out of the house, anxious to see both Luna and Mateo. She got there and knocked on the door that had become so familiar to her. Mateo opened the door just a crack at first, but after seeing it was Anai, he opened the door slowly.
“Hello Anai. You can come in,” he said as he looked outside with undue caution.
“Hi Mateo. How’s Luna?”
“Go take a look. She seems better,” he told her pointing to the couch.
Anai was surprised at how much better Luna seemed. The small puppy put her head up sniffing Anai’s hands. After sniffing Anai’s hands, the puppy licked her face and began eating the dog food that Anai assumed Mateo had put there. “She looks a lot better Mateo! Thank you so much for taking care of her.”
Mateo came and sat down on the couch next to the tiny black lab. “Yes she’s a good girl. She would have been a good puppy for Annie…”
Anai looked at Mateo dark drooped eyes and wondered whether she should ask again, but it was as if he had read her mind.
“Annie…Anai. I haven’t always lived here. I once lived in Spain many many years ago with my…my family. I loved them…” Mateo he said dazing off for a moment.
Anai sat there patiently waiting for him to begin again. She was scared of pressuring and having him become angry again. Anai looked at the room. She had become accustomed to this room. It wasn’t dark to her anymore and the air didn’t seem to suffocate her. It was different because she was different and Mateo was different.
“They died,” he said suddenly. Anai tried to strip the shock from her face as best as she could. “We had come on a cruise boat but had planned to stay here for the summer. My wife, Silvia, and my children were waiting as I went to check on the home and get things together as they got there things together. I should have stayed with them,” he said as small clear drops fell from his eyes. “While I was gone, there was an accident and the ship sank at the dock. That barely ever happens! How would I have known,” he said putting his hands over his face.
“You couldn’t have known Mateo…”
“Know what? Please I want to be alone. Luna will be fine you can come later. I want to be alone.”
“Ok Mateo, I’ll be back later,” Anai told him as she got to her feet and to the door. She looked back for a moment and saw Luna’s little head on Mateo lap. Mateo’s long thin fingers went up and down Luna’s fur slowly and rhythmically. They understood each other. Anai knew at that moment that Mateo would be ok. She opened the door and stepped out into the bright morning sun. She greeted this new day, yet again running to the beach.
When I was a mojona, I was obsessed with wearing earrings (aretes). My parents pierced my ears while I was still young, and to reassure me that this pain at 2 years of age was not unwarranted, Mom (or Mama) would tell me that girls wore earrings and boys didn’t: “See Mama is wearing earrings and Papa isn’t.” I apparently took this to heart so much that I would get hysterics if I wasn’t wearing earrings.
One famous night, while asleep late in my crib, I hollered because I lost an earring. My parents looked and looked but it never turned up.
The crying didn’t stop.
Mama tried to explain that I would get another pair tomorrow, but my screams were relentless. Unable to convince me that I would be ok for the night, my dad went to Walgreen’s to get me whatever earrings they had available. My mom always tells me that the moment the earrings touched my ears I was asleep.
Since then I’ve never felt comfortable leaving the house without earrings. I’m sure most will think it was because I didn’t want to be a boy, which may likely be true. Knowing my gender roles and performing them even at the youngest age. But I’d like to think I screamed because I thought me ears would fall off without the dangling weight. Survival and comfort depended the jeweled heaviness that others merely she as adornment.
The catalyst for this blog is a friend, almost sister, and mentor during the most formative academic years of my life. Walking back to the office one day, she told me to write my stories.
I have chosen not to include personal information in this blog. The simple reason for this is that I hate my own writing and feel intense anxiety when people I know read my work. The notion of losing these stories however is far more horrifying. So here it is, out in the universe, whether people read it or not.
During graduate school I taught a class together with my mentor, which she did as a favor to me. Like so many times before, she saved my ass. It was after one of these meetings that she told me that I would be a different type of academic, informing me that I am and always will be a storyteller. Noting my surprise, she made me aware of what she felt was my skill. I speak in story. Like the spider woman, I weave various threads of stories to construct a master narrative. If I were a fantasy character in one of her books, I would vomit stories whenever a problem presented itself.
I was unsure at first, oral tradition (in this case written) as my art of fixing. Experience = Theory? We’ll see…
