Nonsense, Drivel, and Balderdash

As someone who is natively bicultural, it is sometimes easy to ignore that certain parts of your personality were forged by your one or the other side of your cultural influences. It has taken me several years to realize that certain things that I am accustomed to from living amongst Spaniards do not go over well in the US of A. Some cultural differences are pretty obvious and are quickly put to rest, like when I first went to college and had to stop my impulse to lean in and give two kisses to my female acquaintances. But others take years to decipher. The one that has taken me the longest to become aware of (so far), and still longer to try to change, has been American conversation dynamics. You wouldn't think so, but conversation dynamics change radically from culture to culture. Spanish speaking culture, and probably much of mediterranean culture in general, is much more free-flowing than that of the Northern-European or Asian cultures that I most often in...

Teaching at a university isn't as glamorous as it sounds. As much as I would like you to imagine me as a tweed-wearing, white-haired, venerable professor, that would be a bit misleading. Those kinds of people have PhDs and tenure; I am a lowly adjunct (someone recently commented, "is there any other kind?"). My contract changes semester to semester, and it never comes with benefits. Clearly it isn't a long-term career path. Nevertheless, I have been enjoying it. I teach for a program that is meant to serve as a stepping-stone for international students who will be attending Northeastern the following year. Most of the classes are supposed to incorporate ESL with more practical college skills. For example, I have taught College Writing and Research Writing, which are actually courses that I could have used as a freshman. Of course, these classes contain much more grammar and critical thinking skills than similarly titled American classes would. Last week, in a paper on...

Since graduating last August, I have gone through quite a few books: from poetry to prose, from history to theology, and from heady literature to paperback fantasy novels. I thought I would take some time to recommend my favorites: Favorite Novel (and/or "serious" piece of literature):   The Power and the Glory , by Grahame Green  This book tells the story of a "whiskey priest" living under the stress of communist persecution in early 20th century revolutionary Mexico. It plays with themes of hopelessness and faith, duty and absurdity. Greene is a master of description. I don't know how he does it. He isn't verbose or flowery, but in the first page of the book he completely transports you to tangible, dusty Mexican village. You can feel and smell the grime and heat. The author has the same skill at crafting characters who maintain the human balance of inscrutability and closeness. I haven't been this impressed with a novel in a long time. ...

 But at this time last year, my poetry professor asked us: "Do you know what month April is?" I replied, "the cruelest month?" "Well, yes, but no," he chuckled,"it is National Poetry Month." "Oh. Right" - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Yesterday, as I prepared to make myself a sandwich, I found that a mouse had nibbled through the bread bag and enjoyed a meal in our pantry. I pulled out our backup loaf of bread, but he had gotten into that one too. It was time to pull out the mouse traps. I always feel a bit sad when I put down the traps. I don't like senseless violence and I do like mice. I feel bad for the little guys; after all, it is a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time. They are just minding their own business and looking for a warm place and an easy meal. Finding their way into my walls and then into my pantry is like hitting the jackpot. I can even imagine them ...