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Showing posts with the label Bosch (Juan)

Some archival material

Karin & I have begun eating a diet mainly of beans. Thanksgiving week, we ate three meals at Karin’s grandpa’s house: turkey, once; Dominican food, twice. Señora Máxima cooked the two Dominican meals.

I talked a good while with sra. Máxima about Bosch and Balaguer, ex-presidents of the Dominican Republic.

In Cuba, yesterday, Fidel Castro died.

My Uncle Tim brought over to Mary’s house several boxes of letters written by my father during his missionary career. Uncle Tim wants to put this material into the denominational archives. “A treasure trove for future historians of the Missionary Church,” was how he put it. The three children of my father’s who were present (I, Mary, and Stephen; David was out of town) each glanced through the letters for mentions of themselves. I found a booklet – Animales en peligro, or Animals In Danger – that I must have written and illustrated in the second grade.

“People hunt leopards for their skin” (para su piel), the booklet said.

“Elephants are hunted for their tusks.”

“Some animals are hunted by other animals.”

“Some endangered animals are not in danger of being hunted. Fish are in danger of swimming in poisoned waters.” (The illustration for this caption showed a fish swimming above a bottle of poison on the riverbed.)

Tonight, with Stephen, I watched Barcelona take on Emelec, hoping that B.S.C. would clinch this year’s title. Due to the refereeing, this did not occur. To clinch the title, B.S.C. will have to win one of the two remaining games.

The Caribbean

In Doctor No, James Bond travels to Crab Key: a horrid little island, the base for a vicious tycoon who rules over the guano trade. Ah, the Caribbean. It would be nice to go back there (I was in Jamaica in 1993). I think of the various Caribbean books in my library. Cambridge’s Concise History of the Caribbean. Biographical and autobiographical writings about Marcus Garvey. A collection of Haitian revolutionary documents. A book about Fidel Castro’s wars in Africa. A book about the Cuba of José Martí. A Caribbean Mystery. A High Wind in Jamaica. Wide Sargasso Sea. V.S. Naipaul. Juan Bosch. Sweetness and Power: The Place of Sugar in Modern History.

The telephone rings: I’ve been selected for two cruise tickets to the Bahamas! The condition is that I answer a brief survey.

All rightie.

Should the United States make it a priority to get over its dependency on fossil fuels?

Yes!

If there were an electric car, sold for such-and-such a price, rechargeable every-so-many miles, would you buy it for the primary driver in your household?

Yes!

(I can’t remember the third question, but it, too, is an environmental one. Yes!)

Thank you. Now someone will take your personal information. Please stay on the line.

But I don’t actually wish to go to the Bahamas.

Besides, would Karin wish to go to the Bahamas? Could she take off from work to go to the Bahamas?

Besides, traveling on a cruise ship is, like, the worst thing that an ordinary person could do to the environment.

I feel a pang of guilt. I hang up.

Where were we, ah yes, the literary Caribbean. Better than the literary Middle Ages. Last week I talked to a guy who liked medievalish fantasy fiction so well that he enrolled in a Ph.D. program in medieval literature. He specialized in the late-medieval poets who were “responding to” Chaucer. I asked him which literature of the period he might recommend to me, to someone whose interest was very casual; and with a straight face he told me Game of Thrones. No, I said, something from the period. He told me I might like Beowulf or The Canterbury Tales. Later I told Mary about this. She was not impressed.

Boundary Islet, etc.

That paper, that thorn-in-my-own-flesh history paper, has been submitted, and I’ve resolved never to take another class again. I guess this means I won’t be earning any more degrees, apart from my philosophy doctorate. Very well.

On Boundary Islet, Tasmania has a land border with Victoria. (Every day that I don’t busy myself with coursework, I learn something new.)

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

Recent wedding arrivals: Ana, my dad, and my mom. Of course, more are expected.

Mary’s birthday was yesterday. It wasn’t a fun day for her. She was painfully sick.

India

I had to buy a certain cheap-looking DVD for the high school Social Studies Dept. The back cover says:
Discover the enchanting and vibrant land of India and its people. INDIA – ONE COUNTRY, A MILLION WORLDS lets you explore ancient civilizations, phenomenal architecture and brings you up-close to India’s dynamic and diverse culture. Learn of India’s past and present, including Mahatma Ghandi’s struggle for India’s freedom and present day city life including customs and religious ceremonies. Everything from India’s geography and climate to present political formation is all here in INDIA – ONE COUNTRY, A MILLION WORLDS.
Running Time: 24 Minutes.
My Juan Bosch paper, which was due last Sunday, is nearly, but not completely, written. (I have excuses, but surely no one wants to hear them.) The teacher is breathing down my neck just a little. My loved ones are breathing down it quite a lot more. I want to curl up in a dark, small room so that I can watch Law and Order: Special Victims Unit in peace.

I do allow myself to check the soccer scores. Leicester City have won the English Premier League title, shocking the world. Atlético de Madrid have eliminated Bayern Munich from the Champions League. Independiente del Valle have eliminated River Plate from the Copa Libertadores.

Rumor has it, David has arrived from Houston, two weeks before the wedding.

Quake, pt. 2

Recent figures from El Universo:

443 dead
4027 injured
231 disappeared

Photos on the Web show gray city blocks pulverized, the occasional storefront or utility pole propped up against the rubble, the occasional political poster contributing a spot of color.

People continue to be pulled out of the wreckage. In Pedernales, some are now being detected by how they smell.

There is much suffering in Manta and in Portoviejo. In Canoa, slightly north of Bahía, 80 percent of the buildings have been destroyed.

Relief efforts are intense. Volunteers and supplies pour into the northwest from the larger cities and from abroad. (It’s strange to read that global celebrities are talking about Ecuador.)

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

In my own little life, lately, I’ve been doing my taxes; I’ve been typing up more of my Juan Bosch paper; and I’ve been reading and rereading Frank Stockton’s story, “The Lady, or the Tiger?,” and making shiny PDFs of it (it’s in the public domain).

Juan Bosch

It’s Day Two of my second spring break – the break from my highschool job – and so I have the morning off.

Martin is leisured all day long. He attends to his hobbies: watching David Cronenberg movies; reading Poe, Bierce, and Lovecraft. I told him I would read At the Mountains of Madness with him. We’ll see. This year, I haven’t been so good at finishing books.

For my college history class, I’m writing a 20–25 pp. paper about U.S./Dominican relations during the early ’60s, focusing upon the ideological (and personal) antipathy between U.S. officials and President Juan Bosch. Bosch is a lively case study. Soon after he was ousted, he wrote several books about Dominican democracy. His enduring idea, still discussed by Latin Americans, is dictadura con respaldo popular – dictatorship with popular support – a defense of non-electoral “democracy.”

(Bosch also wrote a work called David, biografía de un rey, which reviewers could make neither head nor tail of. It climaxes with Absalom’s rebellion.)

As historical analysis, I’m not sure how well my paper is turning out. As an anthology of quotations, it’s quite breezy to read.