typical monday evening

I spent the evening making signs about "permission, obligation and prohibition."

"You can recycle this item."

"You aren't allowed to push the button!"

It may be the effect of white board markers but I decided to take a few pics of "mi pieza." My room has evolved over the past 9 months from a bed and small dresser into my own haven. It's been "Jennerized." haha. Honestly, I spend a TON of time here. Not as much as the winter, but still plenty. I find when I'm away from my house for long periods of time, (class all day, weekend trips, even just a few hours!) I crave my room. It's the one space here that is solely mine.

It's my office, my bedroom, a library, internet café, mini movie theater, karaoke bar, a yoga studio, even my kitchen sometimes!

Oh heey-ayyy! (I'm telling you, it was the strong markers..)

Office, closet combo

There's a lot to be said for space when one is living in a foreign country. When I'm out and about, personal space is not what most Americans are used to. I cram my legs into a seat on the bus next to everyday José, I push my way to the front of the line to buy a snack at Duoc, I perch next to the treadmill waiting for it to his 29:59 and then pounce.

If nothing else, I've learned to be pushy in public! A foot of space between you and the person in front of you at the grocery store is an open invitation to let granny and her whole family go ahead of you. Lingering patiently a comfortable 5 feet from the treadmill means you will never actually work out.

After a day- or 9 months- of fighting for space, I appreciate my square more than anything!

Ok, last but not least, I have two new books to add to my list. I finished Mudbound last week. It's a really quick read. But still left me thinking after I put it down. It's a story of two families in rural Mississippi in the late 1940s, early 1950s. One family is black, the other is white. They also both have sons that fought in WWII. When both sons arrive back in town, they are met with the sad reality of unchanged perspectives regarding race. The boys connect on a different level, far away from the harsh farm land of Mississippi. Their friendship is complicated by enduring prejudice and hate. I won't give away the end, but as the book says, "they become players in a tragedy on the grandest scale and find redemption where they least expect it."

The other, My Invented Country, is by the Chilean author Isabelle Allende. (Niece of Salvadore Allende, the president who was murdered Sept. 11th, 1973 by the military coup led by Pinochet). I'm flying through the book because it's like reading about my day to day life. Every few pages, I say to myself "yes!" and "exactly!" She writes about Chilean culture, food, dress, politics, daily life, classism, sexism etc. It's like Allende crawled into my brain and made sense of all the random thoughts I've had while observing this country. Because I'm living the words on the page, I find this book fantastic! Not sure everyone would, but I'd still recommend it. Fantastic insight into the people of Chile. (With a feminist, socialist, expatriate bias). Allende is one of few outspoken Chilean female writers and lives in California.

Good night!