(too tired to think of a title)
It’s late. I am tired. I will not be writing long. But I do have to tell you that many things have been crossing my mind over the past few days as I have been travelling back and forth from rehearsal in Buffalo to home. Classes have been going on for the week, as have rehearsals, and time for some reason seems to be a shorter commodity than I had anticipated.
One quick note, and one quick incident. I have still been pondering the nature of writing a blog, and I think I am beginning to realize I have fallen into a trap I did not wish to set for myself – the “recognition” trap. Basically, it’s the trap of thinking that, if you blog well and make deep statements, you will be recognized. The blogosphere is, in many ways, another method of trying to create a voice for yourself which maybe will be heard above the others. I think I would rather spend the time just jotting down thoughts, concentrating on and sharing my own experiences, and not worry about commenting on other things beyond my sphere. I’ll have to expand on this.
Funny incident – I went to a Puerto Rican eating establishment in Buffalo called the Niagara Cafe for some dinner before yesterday’s rehearsal. I ordered my food in Spanish, but each time the young lady behind the counter asked me a question, she asked in English. I replied in Spanish. She spoke Spanish with the clearly Hispanic-looking customers who spoke Spanish, but not with the Anglo-looking guy who spoke Spanish. That’s the first time that has ever happened to me. I found it sort of strange. Being half-Puerto Rican and half-Irish, and looking totally white, has always been a strange existence in some circumstances. I often do get looks from Spanish-speaking people because my Spanish pronounciation is so good. But I am not fluent in Spanish, having enough to get by in a restaurant, but not enough to act as a translator. And the one thing that always kept me from being fluent were my own relatives on my mother’s side, who always thought it cute that the little Irish boy would try to speak some Spanish. I used to get embarrassed and stop speaking. So it was sort of another incident yesterday like that – you don’t look Puerto Rican, so you can’t speak Spanish to me. Takes all kinds, I guess.
I will fall asleep writing this….-twl
