The train of life...and questioning thyself

So I started a journey of self discovery through painting and exercise, what a strange combo. Of course, among house chores, husband chores and yes, the PhD, it may have been a bit too much to take on at once (did I mention I moved to a bigger, more expensive house as well?).

Let me explain, I started waking up at 7am and exercising for about one hour in the living room almost everyday. Felt awesome afterwards, so full of energy and so hungry!!! After the first month, exercise was gone (note how I deflect my own responsibility about it, hehehe) but I continued with the diet, after the second month, I followed portions, but not exactly the diet and exercise... mmm... I just got "busy", but hey, I continued painting :-)  I felt as if I have fallen off the motivation wagon, I felt crap.

My PhD was also getting more and more tangled, was I looking at one complex and bigger question? or at three simpler questions with three different methods at the same time? What is my "contribution"? So many doubts, I see my contribution as in methods, but would examiners see it this way as well? I fell I brought back (some) sense to the whole research method. Talking to people as opposed to sending them long surveys with the hope they will answer, sometime, somehow... Looking for farmers at farmers' events and not organising 'artificial workshops' where only a few participate.

I guess, I am going through the self-doubt phase. I have started missing deadlines, questioning myself about everything 'academic' and at the same time, my paintings just got better and better. Can you see a correlation here? Am I expressing my numerical 'frustrations' with STATA and Nlogit into the freedom of pure colour? Am I abusing burnt sienna and cobalt blue, adding too much yellow cadmium to my trees of life? Am I using colours as my preferred channel of expression? Not sure what is going on. But I managed to paint the train, the train of life that goes nowhere and everywhere. It has everything I need, strength and mistery, it goes forward and it is mine.

Less grams, painting more...

Week 2 of the 12wbt "challenge", crazy things to report. On the downside, I was being attacked by headaches at 3.30pm for about 4 days. The reason? Unknown but apparently, this happened to many girls in the 12wbt program. Maybe it's our bodies craving for sugar, fat and all those evil yummy things....like...somebody said Coke??? I have not had one for 2 weeks!!! Yay! (but I did have a sip of Sprite and didn't taste too good).

Anyhow, I have followed the diet as hard as I could, but of course, mixing and matching, modifying, updating, adapting... Adding Peruvian condiments like "Aji panca" instead of chilli (I hate chilli),  avoiding beans at night and onions (not good for me). The good thing is that there is one diet-free night for a treat meal and one day free of exercise. But even if I wanted to be naughty with the diet, I was invited to a friend's b'day and she happens to have a veggie garden. The result? One amazing tasty healthy meal!

So the week progressed with 'weight-in' day and I realized that I am 200 grams heavier that the end of week 1 (when i was 800 grams lighter)... but the good news, according to my scale, is that those 200 g are pure muscle! WHAT!!!! So quickly? I hope that thing is accurate, but even if it is not +/- 100g, I got 100g of muscle to show for. I am happy!
...and happier, today, I started my watercolour painting again. I am not good at them, but I love painting, and I love beginning something and finishing it at one go. So today, I met Ray Barnett, famous watercolourist and this is what I did .

He said I got guts to do it.... I wonder if that means it looks great, it is different or it looks horrible. I like it though, I find it a bit dirty or very dirty for a watercolour, but hey, I haven't painted for like 2 or 3 years.... so, ...alright, no EXCUSES.

Tomorrow, I hope I have the same painting drive to tackle PhD data entry. I will think 'watercolours are waiting for you on Thursday', which happens to be MY weight-in day.
C'est la... until next time....:)

A trip to my inner-self...through my outer-self

Dear Michelle,

It is really hard for me to do this. It could be the first time I have to declare in front of the entire world that I can and I will change the bad habits of being a book worm, staring at my computer, reading too much online and on the way leaving my body behind.

Yesterday, 9th February 2013,
at the Multicultural Festival, Canberra

I never really worried too much about it. Seriously, I was young and fearless, I climbed Mt. Kenya with no preparation in 2005, it was hard, but I did it. I have done hours of trekking getting only slightly sore afterwards. But that was then, 8 years ago or more. I am now 34, have a full time office job (AKA PhD) and I have almost completely forgotten I have a body to keep happy as well. This body is talking to me, stand up, stop typing (yes, now!), walk more, stretch please...stop drinking Coke, stop eating comfort food, just stop it!!!. My back hurts after sitting all day, my arms as well. So how did this happen? One day I was thinking, how can a person so driven by knowledge like myself can just forget about her temple, her body. How I can be so excited with scientific papers to read and  will back away from exercise so easily?
I have tried but trying is rubbish, is not doing, is not changing.
I tried attending the gym, it lasted 1.5 months.
I tried Zumba, 5 classes.
I tried posture and flexibility, maybe 6 classes
I tried sh'bam... 3 classes?
So you see, trying is rubbish. I just have to do and to remind myself when I was doing things, with my body, nice workouts, the good old days that I woke up at 6am to get to my tae-bo class (and I was the only student). The time that I will finish my work at 5pm and go for a swim or the time when I used to come cycling to uni in Canberra.

Now I do yoga, at least once a week. Now I walk to the bus stop. Now I do. So now, I have enrolled in the 12wbt and I hope that it helps me remember that I have a mind that lives in a body and that I have to feed my body not only food, but good food, and exercises, and make them part of my  daily routine. Just the same way as I type and type, read and read, and login in to facebook to catch up with my friends all around the world, I will take care of myself and start the journey today.

Yours,
Sandra

Farm Day Oz!

This weekend has been fantastic. My husband, Pablo, and I departed to Booligal to meet with Sandra, Matt and Pip Ireson and to learn more about rural Australia.

Pablo is a (city) dog trainer. He wanted to see how working dogs do their job in the farm.... and we did see a lot of action. The Ireson's took their pups for the first time to the yards with the sheep. The senior working dog Suzie was right on, barking to the sheep, and one of the pups followed her example. The other one took his time, Pablo pick him up and got closer to the sheep to give him more confidence and after some minutes, he was barking as well, it was so cute to watch them. Pablo also had a go at sheep drafting...that went so so. After that Matt ask to capture one big sheep, which Pablo did so quickly that Matt was impressed.

We both helped cleaning the trough, learnt about de-weeding and watched Suz, the senior dog, do her job following Matt's whisteling. Very impressive. We chatted with Sandra and Matt about the management of the farm, the market for their beef, how difficult it is to get good shearers and how that affects their choices (direct arrangements vs. auctions, lamb vs. wool) and how they adapt to the recent floods and past drought. I am doing my PhD on the adoption of oil malle for bioenergy at the Crawford School of Public Policy at the ANU, so experiences like this one give me a better idea of the day to day life of farmers, a much better understanding than reading about it only.

I am thankful for the experience to Sandra, Matt and Pip Ireson and Farm Day Oz for matching us and organizing. What I have seen this weekend and is freedom, living one day at a time, it can be a hard life, but so rewarding. I think it is important for the city fellow to understand the joys and hardship of farm living. It's a full time committment, to the land, to your animals, your family and to yourself. We would like to live in a farm one day, I am good at planning and cleaning, Pablo is good with animals, so why not?.

Facundo...los $23 y un frio invierno Canberrano

Ha pasado mas de un anho de vivir en Canberra. Dos cumpleanhos y muchos momentos felices y tambien tristes. Muchas indecisiones y varias decisiones tomadas. Converso mucho con mi esposo y creo que cada vez coincidimos mas. Estamos buscando algo que es dificil de describir, un camino que lo he encontrado tan bien descrito por Facundo en una entrevista de hace 4 anhos: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IjSNtBNlpSA&feature=channel_video_title. Facundo Cabral murio asesinado en Guatemala. Como toda buena persona que lleva la palabra de paz, la humildad, la belleza. Vi el link en el muro de mi primo el musico. Confieso que no era una fan pues no lo conocia, mas si me gusta mucho "Gracias a la vida" interpretada por Mercedes Sosa. Elegimos. Que hemos elegido? El amor. Esto es lo que hemos elegido. Vine aqui no solo por mi, sino para estar tranquila y lejos de barreras mentales, lejos de los complejos, la bulla y el prejuicio de una sociedad que no acepta que este enamorada de una buena persona y no de las cosas materiales. Mi madre dice que soy egoista, mas venir aqui fue mi oportunidad de demostrar que puedo pensar en 3 y no solo en mi misma. Mas ahora que pasa el tiempo, me cuestiono cual es el camino a seguir? Invertir mis energias en ser parte de un mundo "desarrollado" o volver a mi pobre pais y remar contracorriente y banharme en aceite y olvidarme de las cosas que me convencieron de salir.Foresta, siempre afuera, ni de aqui ni de alla, de ningun sitio y de todos.
Me gusta el sol y por eso vivo en Canberra. Pero acaso no hay sol en Chosica? Me gusta la seguridad y he vivido varios anhos en una ciudad hiper peligrosa,Nairobi, y fui super feliz. Me gusta el orden, pero soy super desordenada en casa. Me gusta ser extranjera pero pertenecer a un grupo. Pertenecer.
Y a donde pertenezco? Por el momento, a Australia. Hoy la Primera Ministra anuncio un impuesto de $ 23 australianos que mas que un impuesto para reducir la contaminacion, es parte de una reforma social. Cambios.
Hoy me entero que Facundo muere y lo conozco e investigo, y escucho en sus palabras todas las verdades que ya se y que quiero entender. El frio de Canberra me ayuda a reflexionar, pienso que mi padre tiene razon. Estos paises son desarrollados pues tienen invierno y la gente no sale de sus casas y se dedica a pensar e investigar.
Me gusta el sol...eso si, no lo puedo dejar. Me gustas tu, sonhar contigo, tenerte cerca para disfrutar de ti, y que estes lejos para extranharte.
Adios Facundo pero bienvenidas tus reflexiones, tus desapegos y tu amor: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xD3G6eM3tPI

Foto: Vista de una casa en Hackett, mi vecindario desde Junio del 2010. Sandra Velarde (C)

A comer canguros!!!

Ohh...primero unos saludos canguros para todos. Aunque solo he visto un cangurito hasta el momento, hoy me dí con la noticia que Australia está haciendo pruebas para exportar carne de canguro a Perú...y por ende a América del Sur.
Pobres canguritos! Tan tiernos y lindos.... claro, ahora sé cómo se sienten cuando les digo que como cuy :)
Pero, ok, este no es el punto --si es una especie "adorable o tierna"-- el o los puntos son:
a) Cuán económico es importar carne de canguro australiana a Perú?
b) Cuántos miles de kilómetros tiene que volar o ir por barco un paquete de carne para llegar a una mesa peruana? Cuál es la huella ecológica de esta carne que dice ser muy buena para la salud (humana), pero no del planeta?
c) Si resulta muy cara, obviamente sólo unos cuantos podrían disfrutar de sus beneficios, entonces, como las avestruces africanas, no sería mejor criar canguritos en Perú para comerlos? Y si es así, en dónde y cómo garantizaría (SENASA?) que se conviertan en una plaga como aquí.
Finalmente, una curiosidad aparte que espero satisfacer en Australia es:
Qué sabor tiene?
:)

Volviendo del Ombligo y disparando!

Pues ya regresé de Cusco. Que cómo me fue? Tuve una prolongada ausencia, mental, de lo que es vivir en Lima, muy saludable, una breve experiencia de lo que es vivir en una ciudad sin vivir en ella (el complejo del extranjero) y un sentido de haber abandonado a mi amor, sin haberlo abandonado de verdad (por tanto viaje, dejé en soledad a mi otra mitad)... ni si quiera estuve allí por así decirlo. Al poco tiempo de haberme mudado y establecerme en una linda casa con un bosque de pinos y montañas alrededor, me llamaron de mi antiguo hogar, Nairobi, para tentarme... y lo lograron. Crucé nuevamente el Atlántico y me reuní con antiguos colegas y amigos, y me dí cuenta a dónde pertenezco. Afuera. Mi madre me llamó "Foresta" por algún tiempo, sin saber que forestis originalmente significó afuera, lo lejos, lo salvaje, antes que bosques o madera (silva).
Ahora estoy lista para disparar! Mi cámara de fotos de nuevo ... y mis pinceles los fines de semana ...y peligrosamente, muchas horas de letras frente al computador. He vuelto del Ombligo, para ir de nuevo a la foresta...afuera.
Foto: Orfanato de elefantes en Karen, Nairobi, Kenia, por Sandra Velarde, 30 Agosto 2009.

“Pit” stop in Curacao

Seated on 11D KLM flight 0744, 11pm Lima time. Five hours have passed since the journey started and the captain decided to take a detour to drop a passenger to the hospital. I saw her fading for the first time about half an hour after the flight departed. For a moment I thought everything will be fine soon and it was only a kind of altitude sickness. However, half an hour later, the flight attendants called for doctors from the passengers. Now, this is serious. They took about one hour to request for professional medical assistance while the young lady couldn't even stand on her feet. Curiously, I was reading the insurance card I got for this trip, which only serves me when am overseas. Interesting also, how I chose this seat instead of the 24B I was assigned at the beginning. As I heard once, it is a contagious thing, so no long after the fading, another passenger, a lady again, was feeling sick and oxygen was brought to her. Now I am just watching everybody around, smells are strong (yuck), it is about 32 Celsius outside, people are talking about the incidents in different languages, French on my left, Italian on the right, Vask (?) behind me, while a Peruvian lady is sleeping with her mouth wide open. I would love to steal her newspaper as they only allowed me to pick one and I picked “USA Today”...wrong choice.

Living...no, eating in Cusco

A month has passed since I moved to the world's "belly button". Cusco, the center of the world, is a magical city. There are many reasons to love it and one of them is the constant feeling that almost everybody there is on holidays. Cusco's economy is based on tourism, no doubts. Despite this, it still surprises me how bad client service could be in some restaurants. A shame, a third visit to “El Molino” on Plateros street turn into a sour experience when the cook said he was busy cooking and could not give us a soda, after waiting for a second pizza replacing the one he burnt, and then the waiter had a bad reaction when we paid a S/. 40+ bill with S/.100. We promised never to go back and we haven't. Oh well, now the good news: My best place for breakfast: Cafeteria Los Reyes on Saphi street (continuation of Plateros), run by a lovely couple, Bertha and Cristobal. Our first two weeks we enjoyed a variety of breakfasts but the best one was the muesli, with different fruits and grapes, totally delicious. The best soup, also on Plateros, first restaurant on the left, next to an alpaca shop...can't remember the name. Fried chicken (pollo a la brasa), maybe not the best, but good enough, can be found just in front.
There are many expensive restaurants at Plaza de Armas where I haven't gone to yet. I really enjoyed the lemon pie of Trotamundos cafe but was not impressed by its gringo-oriented menu. The place is packed with foreigners at lunch and dinner. For freshly squeezed juices, nothing like the market “San Pedro”. Particularly on third row second post. Make sure to ask for orange juice in the mixed juice, otherwise you will get a watery one.
Gosh, enough of food memories, I feel hungry now and am stucked with 300 people in Curacao for a detour on our way to Amsterdam...

Punta Veleros...Punta de paz y el sol de Cusco

Hace tiempo que no escribo, a veces viajar mucho y no escribir al respecto es mi pecado. Ahora retomo el reflexionar y compartir con el mundo pues cierro un ciclo y abro otro nuevamente. La vida es así, en constante transformación.
El verano la pasé excelente pintando con el "Obrador de Pancho" Guerra García en su taller para jóvenes y adultos (y algunos niños). Muy divertido, gente espectacular realmente, me dio mucha energía. Durante el día comencé el aprendizaje de acuarela con Leonel Velarde, en Corriente Alterna. Ambos maestros me hicieron reflexionar mucho y casi me animo a estudiar pintura de lleno, pero me desanimé con la idea de pasar 5 inviernos en Lima e invertir 5 años de tiempo y dinero en otra carrera cuando lo que quiero en pintura es la práctica y no un título. Luego sucumbí ante la presión familiar de conseguir empleo y terminé viajando por 3 meses a Tarapoto, Piura y Arequipa y también muchas horas detrás de esta pantalla. Aproveché el viaje a Piura para pasearme por un pequeño paraíso, Punta Veleros, un paraje tranquilo, ideal para parejas y familias, lejos del bullicio y la locura de Mancora. Asi celebré el día del Trabajo, sin hacer nada, simplemente me sentí feliz y tranquila. Ahora nuevamente, otro cambio. Este sábado parto a Cusco, el ombligo del mundo. A vivir un sueño, estar más cerca del sol, con mi amor y mucho verde a mi alrededor.
Foto: Punta Veleros, Piura, 2 de mayo 2009 (Missy Mori (c)) y Renato (mi ventrílocuo [alter-ego] artístico y aventurero) ) pintando en la clase de Pancho Guerra-Garcia, Marzo 2009.

Una teta muy valiente

Ya no es novedad, el mundo lo sabe. La mujer peruana busca lo imposible y lo logra. La directora Claudia Llosa, la actriz Magaly Solier han demostrado valentía con el irónico título de "La teta asustada", ganadora del Oso de Oro en el Berlinale 2009, el máximo galardón al cine independiente en este pequeño mundo. Muchos han escrito sobre la peli, yo no puedo porque no la he visto -todavía-, solo se que es una historia sobre un creencia andina, de pasar el susto en la leche materna y en quechua!. Solo me queda admirar y aplaudir desde mi sitio a todos y todas aquellos responsables por este triunfo, que no solo pone las "tetas de las peruanas" en el ojo del mundo, sino a sus huevos también. Valentía, coraje, decisión.
Por cierto, una teta valiente e inspiradora es mi mi prima N, que pensando en sus hijas atiende radiaciones diarias para curarse y otras, todas las madres que ayudan a sus hijos a desarrollar su potencial en lo que más les gusta.

Sol, mar, agua y ... SIN AGUA!

Hoy puse los pies en el mar, pero no me atreví a entrar, se leía un letrero “Mar brava, ojo, no bañarse”. La playa Revès en Punta Negra, estaba vacía, excepto por Pablito, Elio y yo. Vimos volar en perfecta sincronía a una bandada de aves, cómo una de ellas se lanzó en picada para capturar a su presa, como otra buscaba muy-muys en la orilla. Mmm....cebiche de muy-muy, nunca he probado. Luego los tres decidimos tentar al mar, poquito a poquito el mar se fue acercando, hasta mojarnos las rodillas y más arriba. Fue muy divertido. No quería que ese momento terminara, me sentí tan conectada con la vida, debería pasar más tiempo cerca al mar y en buena compañía.

Al regresar a Lima, la realidad. Yo vivo en la Aurora, el pueblo joven más caleta de Lima. Al entrar a casa, las malas noticias, no hay agua. Recordé entonces que vivo en un país del tercer mundo, que aquí no avisan cuando te cortan el agua y que recibes las más absurdas explicaciones: "Señorita, la culpa la tiene Wong". Así que para evitar una inundación que causaría la tubería que perforó E. Wong al colocar un poste con publicidad, a Sedapal no se le ocurrió mejor idea que cortar el agua. No le perdono a Sedapal haber demorado un día entero para arreglar este problema (dicen que se resuelve a medianoche, veremos), y menos le perdono a Wong el maltrato psicológico, pues además de sentirme sucia en una noche de verano en Lima, tengo que escuchar discusiones familiares sobre qué vamos a cenar y en dónde porque no hay agua para lavar los platos. Sì, yo sé que la vida en los pueblos jóvenes es difícil, he vivido varios meses en condiciones muy básicas cuando era estudiante en la selva y en la sierra. Pero ahora, caramba, quiero defender los derechos de mis padres que pagan sus impuestos y los derechos de los pobladores del pueblo joven (y tan joven que todavía no se da cuenta) de la Aurora. Wong estás vetado hasta nuevo aviso. Disculpas públicas de Wong al pueblo joven de la Aurora, Miraflores, por favor! ...y descuentos en todos sus productos a los damnificados. Mínimo!