Alchera #39: Peto

My mother rescued an old container from oblivion. I saw it on the living room floor while she organized things from the kitchen. It's beige, with a Coca-Cola sign on one side and a Burger King sign on the other. Burger King no longer exists in Colombia; I used to go there with my mother when I was a little child. The container was used to carry peto (a typical Colombian sweet soup) which we bought in Anolaima, the town where our farm is.

When I was a little kid I'd climb into my paternal grandfather's Nissan Patrol and fool around with my uncles while travelling to Anolaima. We went there often. I remember Anolaima as a cloudy town with loads of fog, but many years later the weather changed, and it was quite sunny. You could look at two more towns from our farm. There were oranges and guavas and raspberries growing over there; I loved raspberries.

The peto from Anolaima was exquisite! There were two things we'd never miss on our trips there: pan de maíz (corn bread) in Zipacón and peto in the Anolaima market. You could get lost in the market... so many stands with vegetables and cheap things... But we never bought anything other than peto and fritanga (a compound of fried food; not a pleasant view yet tasty).

I haven't been in Anolaima for a long time. My grandfather sold the Nissan Patrol and got a Mitsubishi. I grew a nose and outgrew my clothes. The raspberry tree was eaten away by weeds. Oranges fall off from the trees, waiting to be eaten by the worms. Childhood is gone and long forgotten in a sea of stupid adult fantasies until it suddenly comes back in a Burger King/Coca-Cola container.

Alchera #38: So Much Beauty Within

Beautiful words

• Beautiful (English)
• Tanuki (Japanese)
• Appropinquate (Latin)
• Willow (English)
• Widow (English)
• Isolée (French)
• Noyée (French)
• Fragola (Italian)
• Sakura (Japanese)
• Wo (Chinese)
• Cheio (Portuguese)
• Discombobulate (English)

Beautiful body parts

• Female breasts
• Male backs
• Hands
• Japanese eyes
• Eyebrows
• Shoulders
• Many faces

Beautiful flowers

• Azalea
• Tulip
• Magnolia
• Dahlia
• Orchid

Beautiful views

• Madison, Wisconsin, USA, as seen between its two lakes
• Dubuque, Iowa, USA, as seen from Fenelon Terrace
• Downtown Bogotá, Colombia, as seen from 30th Ave. & 19th St.
• Mountains behind Guarinocito, Caldas, Colombia
• Magdalena River, as seen crossing the bridge to Honda, Tolima, Colombia
• Napa Valley, California, USA
• Houses on cliffs in Bodega Bay, California, USA
• Downtown Chicago, Illinois, USA, as seen at night on a plane
• Sunset in Puerto Boyacá, Boyacá, Colombia, as seen from my grandfather's farm
• Mountains surrounding Usme, Cundinamarca, Colombia

Alchera #37: Immaculate

Free-write on this: The perfect man/woman.

You came into my life like any other human being. There is nothing peculiar about our first encounter, there is nothing written on the way you looked that day, how you spoke or didn't speak, what I first thought of you. You were supposed to be one more ghost in a sea of blurred faces.

But you stayed, and slowly, you became solid. Something struck me when we talked, and every time fate reunited us there was more I wanted to keep in my head, more from you... You, ghost, you, drop in the ocean, how did you make me realize you were a new world I wanted to get lost in!

How beautiful it is to picture you.

I think of your blunders, the way you pronounce certain words, your scars, the faces you make at certain occcasions... All these things which are to be totally ignored or be bothered with, they make you perfect. Memories of trouble and subtle happiness together, your voice, your accent, your handwriting, your likes and dislikes, they flow into my brain like loud raindrops and make me long for you. There is nothing fancy about the things that bind us.

It's the details which make you human. It's the details which stain the white napkin of your unexplored eyes. And those stains merge into the brightest of colors, into an unbelievable purity. I yearn for your imperfection, my perfect man, for no matter how much I point at your moles with my finger, all I will be able to see is the smoothness of your immaculate self.

Alchera #36: Un Monde Parfait

If I could change the world to a perfect world...

I think we've done something similar to this in the past--what you would change about the world today to make it a better place, blah blah blah. Instead of going that route, I'm going to ask you to be a little selfish. If you could change the world just for you, what would it be like? Don't think about anyone other than yourself. What would you want the world to be like for you?

• This world would be entirely peaceful, of course.
• People could travel anywhere they wanted (no visa required)
• Good food wouldn't make you fat (or at least it would be cooked in a healthier way which wouldn't alter its flavor)
  
• There wouldn't be poverty at all
  
• There wouldn't be any stupid people
• There would be no need to look like someone else to be pretty (anyone could be a model, no need to be a waif to be considered pretty)
• There would be no racism nor xenophobia
• Africa wouldn't be regarded just as such, but each country would be recognized as an individual state
• African countries would be developed, with no hunger problems
  
• Charly Garcia (Argentinian singer) wouldn't be regarded as a music god
• History would not be centered in Europe, but World History would really be World History
• John Lennon and George Harrison wouldn't be dead, and the Beatles would still be playing
• All sorts of fruits would be available anywhere in the world
• Sushi would be cheap even out of Japan
• There would be no environmental problems

The list may grow, I suppose.

Alchera #35: Cosas que hacer

Somewhere out there in cyberspace is a guy with a lot of ideas. Using him as an example, make a list of things you'd like to accomplish in your lifetime. These can be very simple and very complex. For example, if you hope to go a year without getting a common cold, why not put that on your list? And if you would like to invent a money tree, throw that on there, too. Try for 50 or more, but that's merely a suggestion, not a requirement.

So here they are, things I wish I could do before I die, some of which I know will never ever happen.

1. Visit Japan
2. Live in Japan (not necessarily for the rest of my life)
   
3. Go back to Dubuque, just to visit
4. Learn Chinese, Russian, Arabic and Modern Greek
   
5. Become fluent in Japanese, French, and Portuguese
   
6. Drive a New Beetle
7. Drive a car again
   
8. Eat Peruvian food
9. Visit Peru
10. Read lots of Chinese literature
11. Lend my voice to one of those audio files which come in the Encarta Encyclopedia (preferrably the one reading Sonnet XLIII by Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
12. Sing in a choir again
13. Become a famous singer
14. ... or a famous writer
15. Become a language and/or literature teacher
16. Travel around the world and try all sorts of food
17. Visit Saipan Island (whatever led me to it, I don't know, but now I dream of its image of a lost paradise with charred remains of hell)
    
18. See Minori again
19. See Kotaro again
20. See Katherine Thornton again
    
21. Meet Takami Ei (aka Noppo San)
22. Learn to ride a bicycle
23. Learn to skate
24. Re-read many of the books I've read
25. Learn to play piano
26. Make a ragdoll
27. Make my own dresses
28. Visit San Francisco again
29. Live in San Francisco for a while
    
30. Roadtrip around the States (if I could get to see every State in the Union, that would be incredible)
    
31. Visit Chile
32. Sing Billy Joel's Honesty in front of a big audience, or in a karaoke bar, who cares
33. Go to a Billy Joel concert
34. Write new songs
35. Write more stories
36. ... and get them published
37. Make my own marmalade
    
38. Become a tidy person
39. Stop procrastinating
40. Visit Himura's bakery
41. Go to more weddings and dance like hell
    
42. Learn to dance good old fashioned rock 'n roll
43. Keep a healthy weight
44. Go to a night club (go ahead, call me pathetic)
    
45. Keep in touch with all my friends from here and abroad
46. Learn to knit
47. Get married (it's okay if I don't, but I really believe marriage is a beautiful yet tough thing)
48. Wear my hair in a very sixties coiffure, like Barbara Eden in I Dream of Jeannie
49. Get a much more flexible body (gotta work hard for that, but oh well)
    
50. Teach many languages to my children
51. Visit Saskatchewan and Ushuaia
52. Meet Bill Murray
53. Visit Strawberry Field, Penny Lane, and other Beatles related sites (so far I've only been to Haight Ashbury)
    
54. Visit Liverpool
55. Learn to play the sitar
    

The list may grow.

Alchera #34: Picture Perfect

We're lying on beautiful seashells, sound asleep in a sweet hug. We're framed like a perfect picture, like a poster or a Valentines Day greeting card. Our feet are constantly washed in saltwater, tickling our skin while a gentle breeze turns sunshine into a golden dance on our cheeks. This is a lover's lifetime dream, and it seems to have been granted to us only. It's not the first time something like this happens. Many say I'm lucky.

If only anyone could see that my mind is making faces behind my mask of frozen beauty...—

Are you really sleeping? I've kept my eyes shut for too long, and I see amber sparks everywhere when I turn my blind eyeballs around. You could say I'm dreaming —if you saw me, of course —, but all I can think of are these stupid seashells. They're stabbing my back, disposable daggers from a hidden sea god. I hear you sighing. Is it happiness, or do you feel all that innocent-looking calcium reaching into your flesh too?

I can't breathe too well. I haven't been able to breathe for as long as I've been with you, anyway. Life with you is full of fixed smiles, those which make one's muscles ache while countless cameras are being prepared. My heart feels like it's been smiling all this time, and every beat aches in desperation. Can't anything be imperfect? Can't a day be boring? Can't I spill my coffee— my words—?

Stop holding me. Stop striving to be this picture-perfect boyfriend, full of picture-perfect moments. Stop making every second an everlasting moment. I'll shake the sand off my clothes and walk into reality, where edges are blurred and people stumble when they walk, where oblivion rises along with the sun every morning.

Alchera #33: White Waters

I’d like you to write a poem this month that consists of at least five stanzas. The first line of the first stanza, as well as the first line of the last stanza, should be written using alliteration.

Where we walk, white waters whisper.
Our feet move at unsteady paces
As our breath tries to silence
The obvious words
From the omniscient stream.

Your hand tries to grasp mine—
A living fork delving into rice,
And the air freezes as you scratch
Frantically
To catch my fluttering bird.

And our hearts beat ever so quietly:
They listen to this fate we step on,
To the sound of their own breaking;
They listen to the hollow noise
Of our silent desperation.

Not another gaze into our eyes,
Not another drop into this well
Which slowly overflows
Onto our pale cheeks, sinking
In the abyss of a bitter smile.

Where we walk, white waters whisper
The words we refuse to mumble,
And our hearts are beating quietly
To let us lip-sync to the river:
Goodbye...

Alchera #32: Alphabetized in Pairs

Things You Love… Alphabetized. I went back in the archives an entire year to see what list projects we've done and, oddly enough, none of them deal specifically with things you love. But making a list of things you love it just too easy, and the point of Alchera is to challenge the creative mind. So, not only are you to make a list of things you love, but you are to do it with the alphabet. That's still too easy in my opinion, so you've also got to come up with at least two things for each letter. 'X' is really going to be tricky. (Example: Aenima & And All That Could Have Been, Blueberry muffins & … this is a lot harder than I though… Bourbon?) This kind of project takes time.

• American Eagle clothes | Ariza Sensei's classes
  
• Blackberry milkshake | Books, the smell of them when they're new
  
• Chicago | Chicken biryani
  
• Dubuque, IA in spring | Dawn, slowly evolving while travelling in a car
  
• Essays, correcting them for Japanese Culture class | Eclipses, both solar and lunar
  
• Falling leaves in front of Rohlman Hall | French, speaking it for short periods
  
• Grape juice after dinner | Greek mythology
  
• Himura's voice and quiet eyes | Hands, when they are long, soft, and well-groomed
  
• Ice cream | Io, the way it looks like a bizarre marble
  
• Japan | Juan Valdez coffeeshop
  
• Kotaro's eyeglasses | Kisses, when I get them
  
• Languages, the feeling one gets when one begins to understand | Laughing hard
  
• Madison, WI | Minori, the sight of his broad back when he was about to swim
  
• Night skies | Napa Valley, CA
  
• Office supplies | Observing people on the streets
  
• Pony Malta | Planetariums
  
• Questions, both asking and answering them | Queen
  
• Road trips | Rain, the sound of it in the night from a cozy bedroom
  
• Star Wars | San Francisco
  
• Tea, green, preferably hot and shared with the Japanese people I miss | Travelling, especially for the landscapes
  
• Umeshu | Updating my blog
  
• Vintage clothes, music, TV shows... everything | Visibility, when the southern mountains finally reveal themselves for the whole city
  
• Words like 'willow' or 'widow' | Wind, touching my cheek through a window in a car
  
• Xylophones at André Rieu's concerts for old couples | X, San... San-X!
  
• Yoghurt | Yarn, its softness when folded, meshed, or knitted
  
• Zucchini, when it's soft and sweet | Zippers, playing with them, zipping and unzipping
  

Alchera #31: Cobalt Boy

When the day breaks

With the first touch of yellow

The cobalt boy

Will look up

And float

And melt into the sky

As a myriad colors rain

In violent drops of dawn

But nobody will miss him

For everybody is taking

The quiet monochrome night

Unnoticed

Alchera #30: Vaarwel

"Write a scene from the point of view of a character being left by another character. If possible, avoid all clichés of soap operas and televisions and bad books and movies. Unfortunately, that doesn't give you much room to work. It seems everything on this topic has been said to death. You'll need to reach down into your characters to find something fresh, something particular to them. If you want, keep dialogue to a minimum. Work with action and gesture." --The Writer's Idea Book, Jack Heffron

Follow the above guidelines, using the scene in a piece of fiction.

Don’t say it.

Your head became a maypole for a split second; your hair, a million ribbons.

Don’t say it.

Your calves, which had been familiar only to my skin, suddenly became visible, a new landmark never to be discovered... and your gauze skirt flew...

The puddles in your grass-colored eyes were no longer to be seen —look at me once again, just don't say it! —, your body was a distant pillar, a panther on the run, and four ivory fingers stood still on the edge of the door — hesitating? — for a moment which proved to be too short. I stared, trying to grasp an image of you like I should have grasped your arm and bid you to stay. But those four fingers soon vanished too, like a mouse's tail turning around a corner.

"Don't say it," I muttered, over and over again, breathing the young frozen void. "Please, don't say it."

And you didn't. You simply left.