busy days

I've spent this entire week in the office extracting some sense from my field notes. The hope lies in the observations recorded in these notes, in my field notebook. I seek muse in the messy blue or black lines in this notebook and search for what I have already seen and felt and smelled: the need for something extraordinary to happen here, to these children who deserve it; the need for a flash of white lightning to strike ground and jolt the seed in the hard land and let it grow, to survive and stand as example of the good will and smarts of that lightning and all those who are part of this. Who says it has not happened already?

These are hard aspirations indeed and must explain why it has taken me a week to write nothing but a few phrases in mixed language (Castellano and English) that detail not-much.

Wish me luck! I already tire of the office routine and yearn for the "campo" where I cut my teeth and soul learning to learn and playing to play, always dirty and dusty. Let's do hope that this time in a cubicle in Lima, Peru, will yield something good; will open the doors for honest evaluation of past efforts and agressive aspirations for the future.

The school year winds to an end and I too am happy to see the summer flow and to wear shorts and simple t-shirts. I will spend this short-sleeve capital on composing a symphony of flow in the waters of public pools where Collin and I will instruct the young ones in swimming and inspire water fun. Another dream come true, might as well confess another in hopes of having the same luck I've had here: med school?