What can I say that it has not been a song?
This month I returned to Villa Felicidad, irony. The oppressive streets were refreshed with the enthusiasm of the children to show their neighborhood to the guests of Estonia and Italy.
“There is a store there. That is Valentina’s mother’s hairdresser’s shop. That flowered house belongs to Maria, do you remember her, Profe? Let’s go to the “canchita”! There is a tajamar over there, let’s go through the railway? (rust). There is a sunken car (rust). With my mother and hers we come fishing here on Sundays. That is the church, Profe, at night they gather there to get high (rust) ”
“Loneliness over ruins, five centuries the same.” Our identity is rusted every time we open the doors to the invader. The memory becomes fringe.
The church … to get high …
What was the opium of the peoples?
Compulsivity. Can’t we stop?!
-Now it’s not computer time, we’re going to leave them all here during the Dance class.
-What matters to me, it’s mine, you can’t take it out!
-I don’t want to take your computer off, just your invisible chain.
Who has the key ?!
“One computer per child”, that is the slogan of the Ceibal Plan from 2007 in Uruguay. Just with six years each child receives a computer, what a pride, the first country in the world! Irony. Gradually and silently it has taken over their movements and their breaks. It is impressive to see them sitting in a row with their eyes fixed on the screen, just talking to tell how many they killed today. Mental paralysis.
Some girls put the computer on the window and dance following an animated video. Then they don’t want to be creative, they don’t want to feel what their body tells them about how to find their own dance. They want me to stand in front of them and, as a robotic animation, show them cool steps to imitate. Ahh but “a group of young people from a high school won an award with a robotic’s project promoted by the Ceibal Plan and they will have the opportunity to travel to another country to represent Uruguay,” says the head of the local newspaper. How many youngsters do you give opportunities or take them off? I would think better, but I can’t: click, ok, next, game over.
I’m getting tired of walking along the same rusty railways. I am dry for continuing to dry the ceibo of our indigenous memory. We no longer have fresh water to drink. It was taken by transgenic soybeans and export cattle. A Finnish company signed a contrat with our State to take pulp away through our railways for 50 years to make toilet paper for the Chinese. The pulp is done with eualiptus tree. Eualiptus is not native and takes too much water.
There is no coherence. There is no equity. We are sleepy. On October 12th I cried all our pains for a path in the forest in Estonia. The next month I was glad to be sweating miseries in Villa Felicidad, again.
How can we trust in the education that makes us sleep while our natural richness is taking away home? May be I’ll leave school, I’m sorry.
Job shadowing in Estonia
The murga is on the one hand, a choral-theatrical-musical genre, and on the other, the denomination given to the ensembles that practice it. In Uruguay it is usually performed at Carnival by a choir of between 13 and 17 people with the musical accompaniment bass drum, cymbals and drummer.
diminutive of “court”: space reserved for the practice of different sports
The tajamares are works that consist of joining two slopes that are approach by a curtain of well rammed earth, which stops runoff from rainwater, forming a lagoon. (Chiggia, 1976).