December 6, 2010


It is the scraps of little wisdoms given to us in the most insecure manners than change our lives. Not the magnificent architectures of the world today, or the wars shed by millions in names they cannot understand, or the noble prizes for great achievement. God forbid that I intend to undermine those articles of greatness brought to the light at one point or another. I only mean to describe what really changes you from the inside without you realizing it that you walk miles in one step and elevate in the ladder of life way more comfortably than you see.

I have come to this culture unaware of my disabilities and frightened by my built-up walls that kept me strong for year through the roughness of my society. I came armed with a will to build up ever stronger wall to keep me safe from the hurricanes, volcanoes and destruction I have imagined. I prepared for the worst and I have succeeded in protecting myself, so far.
However, I learned one thing. I was deceiving myself. Those walls have cut the pieces of cake I eagerly wanted to eat for me, colored the paintings I have always pictured in my mind and carved the words I always respected in the world with every fall I had to endure. The work has been completed, by me somehow, but not because of me.

I aspire high in life, higher than I allow myself to believe possible, work hard for it, break down once and over again, re-boost and go for it. Yet, I seem to have forgotten that what changes me is the little notes from those who matter the most to you in the world.
I am blessed with the most valuable gifts there are to be obtained in this world and during my stay here in the United States, I have managed to come across some of the most genuinely unique and incredible people that change my life in every possible way I never knew existed. The smaller the manner they approached things is, the bigger the conflicts we had and the greater respect I carried for them.

Some are too careful out here to attempt a test us, internationals that is. Testing is a normal thing to get involved in another person’s character. They are remarkable, smarts in their fields and upfront, even if not with us the whole time. At times I wish they could break away from their fear and test us in every possible way, after all, what is there for them to lose rather than gain.
One of the best things I cannot seem to be able to describe is the sensation I get when I unfold one of the pages of my past diaries to find me speaking of those I met instead of me. On my first three writings in America, I wrote of at least two whom I admire a lot. I am very fond of curiosity and spontaneity as I believe they can take me a long way rather than formality and strictness. This to me seems to be the problem in bridging the American-international gap.

TO be continued...

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