tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4852383185997330062024-02-19T03:36:29.789-08:00The Welcome ProjectEvanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.comBlogger10125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-26006650661440344172009-04-15T21:17:00.000-07:002009-04-15T21:19:14.657-07:00On The Sea<p class="MsoNormal">I blame you Jack Kerouac.<span style=""> </span>Just when I think I’ve begun to regain my sense or sarcasm and snark on my now month-old trek, you point me back into the direction of romanticism and stupor.<span style=""> </span>Or, perhaps it has been the unexpected days off which have given me the pause to stand back and take in everything that excites me about my current situation.<span style=""> </span>Either way, I have spent the past two days now enjoying life in two different countries, while spending my evening quietly reading <i>On The Road</i>.<span style=""> </span>It is an odd thing feeling a bit romantic about life on a cruise ship.<span style=""> </span>Yet, for all the waste and largesse, the plastic molding, and – worst of all – the daily line dancing and karaoke, there are moments that still make me step back and feel a sense of living.<span style=""> </span>On the other side of things, I can easily find a quiet place on the deck where I may not see anyone else for an hour at a time, and spend time reading and drinking coffee while the wind whips around.<span style=""> </span>I still find myself constantly shifting between the overriding need to feel busy and productive at each moment and the desire to use my generally abundant free time to spend time contemplating larger questions that perhaps get pushed aside at other times. <span style=""> </span>Although, having just written the previous sentence, that sounds much more convoluted than I really mean it.<span style=""> </span>I guess I could just say that for all the projects I said I would and probably should be working on while on this ship, I have found myself spending more time standing on the bow or the top deck at night reading or just watching the sea go by while I enjoy the feeling of being outside in an expanse that gives me a sense of something greater than myself.<span style=""> </span>Simply, perhaps being from <st1:state><st1:place>Iowa</st1:place></st1:State> and unfortunately keeping a fairly strong aversion to the cold, I still savor I night where I can stand outside comfortably. <span style=""> </span>More than that though, I love noticing how the weather changes each night we are away depending on where in the world we are, and going out on a clear night to see the sky riddled with stars, many of which I have probably never seen before and may never see again.<span style=""> </span>Even more simply, I enjoy just watching the little dot of our ship on my T.V. screen, showing me where I am in the world, constantly careening forward it seems.<span style=""> </span>Last night, I took a pause from my aforementioned read and stared straight up at the Big Dipper and thought about how I could probably see the same arrangement in the sky as all my loved ones that I’ve temporarily left behind.<span style=""> </span>Tonight we are sailing north along the Central American coast, returning to the United States in a few days; and, thinking about little things like this on the way home makes me feel more connected with those I miss, even if foolishly so.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Moreover, I believe that on of the greatest joys of working in this type of profession is meeting and talking with interesting people from, literally, around the world.<span style=""> </span>There is certainly something to be said for the convenience of being able to simply sit around and talk with people at length over a beer or seven.<span style=""> </span>Last night we had a crew party; and, before I even realized it, I had easily passed four hours just sitting and conversing with a rotating crowd while we all took advantage of the open bar.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">So, while I perhaps meant to write something a bit longer, I feel that perhaps that is enough schmultz from me for one evening.<span style=""> </span>So, as I sit once again in my tiny cabin and feel this ship rock back and forth while the water slaps the sides of the hull just a few feet from me, I will end things here and get back to Kerouac.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps in time I will be able to recount my travels in a way even half as good as he – this would make me pleased.<span style=""> </span>So, to steal a line from a dear friend:<span style=""> </span>yes, there is some cheese here as well, but honestly made… <o:p></o:p></p>Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-54123788340431578162009-03-05T16:51:00.000-08:002009-03-05T16:52:32.196-08:00And, I'm Out...All right - leaving on Sunday for two months. Crazy. Hopefully I will be diligent about keeping everything up to date while I'm gone. I know I'll have the time, just not the best internet. Hoping everything works out!Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-73837141195293298082009-03-04T21:19:00.001-08:002009-03-04T21:54:43.375-08:00Comes In BunchesAgain I find myself at a crossroads waiting for a call back about possibly leaving on a cruise gig. Again it is about three days before I would have to go; and, I need to know as soon as possible to find a replacement for another possible thing I would have in Iowa this weekend. Not to mention that stuff I would have to go out and buy before then (like a tenor case that won't collapse if I have to check it, as well as possibly fixing my tenor so it isn't being made functional with masking tape...). So we'll see - this would be a two-month gig on Holland America, a length that is attractive to me as I don't like to be away for too much more than that. I really could use the money at this point as I have been freaking out a bit about my finances. Basically, while I can live rent free (and largely bill-free) until June, the gravy train comes to an abrupt halt at that point. This way I could go out and come back on much more stable footing while having time to hang out, do some projects, and mobilize the sax section for Celebration Iowa once again while getting a chance to work with good friends.<br /><br />On the lighter side, I finally got a call today asking me to sub (apparently they just got my background check the other day. Apparently I also don't have any new violations to worry about...) while I also got a call from a guy at a restaurant in Cedar Falls that I had applied to on a whim in one of my moments of panic about my future. Seems like they only call when you (maybe) don't need them anymore...<br /><br />So, assured that I won't get a call at 5:45 in the morning asking me to a school in the morning, I am going to undertake my nightly ritual of which I have become fond - wine and a book (who knows when in my life I'll have time to do that after this stretch!)<br /><br />Wow, I really use a lot of parenthesis.Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-24353638339563002772009-03-03T13:35:00.000-08:002009-03-04T21:18:23.899-08:00If You Like Jazz...You very well might like this. If not, well, life changes might be in order.<br /><br />With the extra time that I have right now, I’ve decided to start doing some transcription projects and writing them down.<span style=""> </span>Right now I’m undecided whether to focus on a few individuals or just put together some kind of <st1:city><st1:place>bari</st1:place></st1:city> sax compilation.<span style=""> </span>Either way I began with Serge Chaloff’s recording of “All The Things You Are” from his album <i>Blue Serge</i>.<span style=""> </span>I might take some of these down eventually if I get any kind of publishing deal worked out for them; but, for the foreseeable future please feel free to download them and use them at your discretion.<span style=""> </span>I think the biggest thing I took away from doing this transcription was noticing how largely diatonic this solo is, and how he uses the entire range of the instrument (low Bb to altissimo G).<span style=""> </span>Also, the I tried to cop the articulation the best I could and notate it as such; if you have the opportunity to listen to this track (or really any of Chaloff’s solos), you will notice how he has a tendency to tongue much more than most players, every note in many places, with unconventional patterns in other places as well (slurring from the downbeat to the upbeat).<span style=""> </span>This reminded me of Dexter Gordon, who tends to tongue every note often as well, while still somehow swinging it beautifully.<span style=""> </span>So yeah, enjoy and let me know what you think! <p class="MsoNormal">(This is in .bmp for now – hopefully get .pdf’s going soon!)</p><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz6lg9kyta7VqsWupLgEIPEzd24SKRm-rgv7Cs42E5CsXiL1A8Y5TOrEiM_eqxq9rF43THxqSn9zqVzs3OVCJH9L5aM8SJ9Eq3V8jSqSK5c3vv0OFPv9Orl4pCejTe4pckY3dhaMiwgo/s1600-h/Serge+Chaloff+-+All+The+Things+You+Are_0001.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 146px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVz6lg9kyta7VqsWupLgEIPEzd24SKRm-rgv7Cs42E5CsXiL1A8Y5TOrEiM_eqxq9rF43THxqSn9zqVzs3OVCJH9L5aM8SJ9Eq3V8jSqSK5c3vv0OFPv9Orl4pCejTe4pckY3dhaMiwgo/s200/Serge+Chaloff+-+All+The+Things+You+Are_0001.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309078953122485858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKee-pGyrG_BQSqUmax5nEc0xfQWfFWp7zDp9sxadTlIQUWzvCWJ_En9QnMVANHK8NBllLAc9AJSdYI8J6GIQx5EjdNJAXHuL5LNB2VXjGaFRV223WmYJFn5uFg6gF4EMwuyi2cmSL3P4/s1600-h/Serge+Chaloff+-+All+The+Things+You+Are_0002.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 152px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKee-pGyrG_BQSqUmax5nEc0xfQWfFWp7zDp9sxadTlIQUWzvCWJ_En9QnMVANHK8NBllLAc9AJSdYI8J6GIQx5EjdNJAXHuL5LNB2VXjGaFRV223WmYJFn5uFg6gF4EMwuyi2cmSL3P4/s200/Serge+Chaloff+-+All+The+Things+You+Are_0002.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309078957937731378" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQm5_kUpvxQ3p0RVkqb3VzccsHiNZkAX8seS6vDZmX8NVDqxAkRwWDiym1zUmw_lrLK3U2jN8GVqsdyp-zb65DRQLQdiMPHRp6oKCB9yiFSLwer09PbdHowaRTRi7faIehK76X_PRKyJU/s1600-h/Serge+Chaloff+-+All+The+Things+You+Are_0003.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 70px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQm5_kUpvxQ3p0RVkqb3VzccsHiNZkAX8seS6vDZmX8NVDqxAkRwWDiym1zUmw_lrLK3U2jN8GVqsdyp-zb65DRQLQdiMPHRp6oKCB9yiFSLwer09PbdHowaRTRi7faIehK76X_PRKyJU/s200/Serge+Chaloff+-+All+The+Things+You+Are_0003.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309079191789205442" border="0" /></a>Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-63450070475536903702009-02-26T22:09:00.000-08:002009-02-26T22:13:32.122-08:00Holy AlliterationThe previous post title would probably better apply here. Today was a dank day all around - a persistent rain throughout. And, for something much better than this, check out <span style="font-style: italic;">Spiral Aurora</span> under the links on the right...<br /><br />A rare February rain<br />slips down silos<br />soothing salt from<br />the snows before<br /><br />Seeping into soil<br />showering the sparrows<br />with promises<br />that better days lie ahead.Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-67208836570297170952009-02-26T20:09:00.000-08:002009-02-26T20:11:42.695-08:00Thoughts From a February Thunderstorm<p class="MsoNormal">A while back (let’s just not say how long), I declared that it was my goal to have “the equivalent of a full-time job by the first of March”.<span style=""> </span>Well guess what folks?<span style=""> </span>Sunday marks this annual “lion or lamb” cliché; and, this whole job-train will have left the proverbial station (speaking of clichés…)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The problem has been several-fold:</p> <ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">I don’t really want to do anything right now that I could have done before I graduated.<span style=""> </span>I think this comes from the fact that this event happened so recently; and, I subsequently feel that it should be worth something even though I know it really isn’t most times.</li></ol><ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="2" type="1"><li class="MsoNormal" style="">I’ve applied for different positions in different parts of the country, all of which seem to have a decision point around early-March, meaning there has been a lot of waiting as I don’t want to take a job just to leave and do something somewhere else.<br /></li></ol> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Granted, I have some things going, like my completed application to substitute teach at my old high school, which could either be curiously interesting or god-awful – we’ll see.<span style=""> </span>Moreover, this really makes me want to check out this “Eastbound and Down” show on HBO as it perfectly reflects my current situation I believe.<span style=""> </span>I might also start teaching at a local music and dance studio that seems to really have its stuff together.<span style=""> </span>Again, the lack of activity getting out to make things happen results from the constant uncertainty of my geographic location in the near future.<span style=""> </span>On the plus side, I made some business cards the other night to prepare for the eventuality.<span style=""> </span>This is also the first time in my life I have ever felt the need to have a business card, which at least might say something?<span style=""> </span>Still, it is a pretty ridiculous card as I don’t really have a business to speak of really.<span style=""> </span>They might just as well read:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i>Evan Smith<o:p></o:p><br />“I like to play music but will probably do pretty much anything for which you hire me”<o:p></o:p><br />Call me. <span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Complicating the matter is that during the past month I have been at least somewhat focused on finding agreeable employment, at least to the point where I have spent enough time on my computer to feel like an internet addict.<span style=""> </span>This also manifests itself in making myself check my e-mail every ten minutes to see if my current situation has improved.<span style=""> </span>However, over the weekend I had the extreme pleasure of seeing both Josh Roseman perform with UNI Jazz Band One, as well as Ben Allison and his band, Man Size Safe, play back to back nights in Cedar Falls and Iowa City (as well as at a clinic in between).<span style=""> </span>Subsequently, it has provided me at least some quantity of new motivation; and, I have begun to think that maybe I would be better suited just to take advantage of the three remaining months I can spend living rent-free by working on a couple of large projects.<span style=""> </span>I figure that I have the most time available that I will (although, as my friend Rachel and I discussed, this doesn’t always lead to more productivity; in fact, often the opposite).<span style=""> </span>I have the idea right now to try to transcribe some important players that don’t really have anything out on the market to see if I can get a little collection published.<span style=""> </span>I started on this today; and, it has made me realize I really don’t have any idea how to go about doing this after the actual transcribing is done.<span style=""> </span>But, having a project made infinitely more productive anyway.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>So, we’ll see how it goes.<span style=""> </span>I think perhaps the fear of failure and the complete lack of money it would mean might kick my ass into doing something that will take some time and effort to complete.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I have also decided to write a book.<o:p></o:p></p>Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-31308143908526870442009-02-25T23:20:00.001-08:002009-02-25T23:20:44.402-08:00A Quick ThoughtBe swift on your feet<br />young rabbit,<br />for the eager fox waits<br />at every turn.Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-34089914256503956652009-02-20T21:59:00.000-08:002009-02-20T22:02:10.692-08:00A New Crust Forms...<p class="MsoNormal">I noticed today that I can’t remember the last time I washed out my coffee mug.<span style=""> </span>When I got back from <st1:country-region><st1:place>Venezuela</st1:place></st1:country-region>, I found it on the floor of my car, where it had undeniably sat for the better part of five months or so.<span style=""> </span>It is a black Migo mug, one that I rescued from the lost and found box of the music building after nobody had claimed it for months.<span style=""> </span>I don’t think I even washed it out really, past just swirling a little cold water around in it for two seconds, even in that initial revisit.<span style=""> </span>Now, I don’t even do that; I just pick it up, dump out any residual liquid from the day before, and fill it up assuming the scalding liquid will probably kill anything anyway.<span style=""> </span>I guess it probably does; but, that still doesn’t save me from the accumulating brown crust on the top.<span style=""> </span>It’s almost to the point where the little slidey-thing that covers the hole for coffee moves a little stiff from the extra friction.<span style=""> </span>Does anyone else do this; or, am I uniquely disgusting in my coffee habits?<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tomorrow I hope to get up to <st1:city><st1:place>Cedar Falls</st1:place></st1:City> to check out the second night of Josh Roseman at UNI for Tallcorn.<span style=""> </span>Everyone is predicting significant snow and other wintry hazards however; so, we’ll see what happens.<span style=""> </span>Either way, I’ll be up for the Ben Allison show on Monday night and am debating on whether to trek to <st1:city><st1:place>Iowa City</st1:place></st1:City> Tuesday night as well to see him again.<span style=""> </span>Be currently unemployed makes the time commitment easily possible.<span style=""> </span>On the flip side, the subsequent lack of money makes the travel and inevitable beer expenses problematic.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Recommended listening for the day:</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Miquel Atwood-Ferguson – <i>Suite for Ma Dukes<o:p></o:p></i><br />Juana Molina – <i>Un Día<o:p></o:p></i><br />Eri Yamamoto - <i>Duologue</i><o:p></o:p></p>Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-51077207753297738782009-02-18T23:16:00.000-08:002009-02-18T23:18:14.585-08:00Welcome Back?<p class="MsoNormal">OK, welcome back – to me and you.<span style=""> </span>A little more than three months later, let’s try this again.<span style=""> </span>Conventional wisdom would have said that I would have written more while<br />I was still in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Venezuela</st1:place></st1:country-region> living in a different culture and living those experiences; but, I didn’t.<span style=""> </span>Nor did I pick up immediately on my return to the <st1:country-region><st1:place>U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region>, nor during the travels that followed.<span style=""> </span>Perhaps I’m the type of person that only turns to writing when he doesn’t have those other things going on, with more time, and the perhaps the inevitable introspection that follows.<span style=""> </span>Either way, I’ve decided that I really enjoy writing words, and am going to do it more often.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A lot has happened in three months.<span style=""> </span>I’m back in <st1:state><st1:place>Iowa</st1:place></st1:State> on what I would like to call a “Living the Dream/Return to Roots” tour of the Quad Cities, which are even more impressive in the fact that they span two states.<span style=""> </span>While I had planned on being back in the <st1:place>Caribbean</st1:place> playing on a cruise ship, a number of factors came together to put that plan on the shelf, at least for the time being.<span style=""> </span>So, trying to switch to Plan B mode, I am now living with my mother while I spend my days loafing about unemployed.<span style=""> </span>Today, I completed an application to substitute teach thanks to my newly minted Iowa teaching license, and feel that if this really does come to pass, it should provide me enough random experiences to give me material for this thing for the weeks and months ahead.<span style=""> </span>Needless to say, being out of school for the first time in as long as I can remember, with no immediate plan (I will probably be in graduate school in the Fall; but, until then I have nothing) is certainly new to me.<span style=""> </span>At times it is the best thing, to have so much free time to once again practice my instruments, write, read, reflect, and so on.<span style=""> </span>However, half the time I feel myself so consumed with an anxiety about the very fact that I do NOT have a plan or a current way of gaining the income I will need come this summer, that it is hard to concentrate on these things.<span style=""> </span>I find myself instead invariably stuck in front of my computer screen looking for various job prospects, and spending a lot of time writing letters to jobs that half the time turn out to be scams.<span style=""> </span>Still, I have a few things brewing here, including a chance to teach privately as part of a dance and music studio in town, something that I would welcome as I dearly miss teaching private lessons.<span style=""> </span>This weekend the annual Tallcorn festivities take place at UNI; and, I am looking forward to seeing some friends again.<span style=""> </span>Well, there’s the update post for now to at least get my mind back on this thing and myself writing something again.<span style=""> </span></p>Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-485238318599733006.post-58830616308553356882008-11-05T15:29:00.000-08:002008-11-05T15:31:29.099-08:00Welcome/President Obama<p class="MsoNormal">Welcome to <i>The Welcome Project.</i><span style=""> </span>After deciding to throw my proverbial hat into the blogosphere a few weeks ago, I’ve been sitting on this space without any material that I felt was “first post” worthy.<span style=""> </span>Now, <st1:date year="2008" day="4" month="11">November 4, 2008</st1:date> has now given me the plenty of motivation to get going.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">As I woke up to the sun already beaming down on Caracas this morning, I couldn’t help feeling that a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and that I was indeed waking up in a new, more hopeful world.<span style=""> </span>Like a movie, the sky was clear of the usual clouds flowing in over the mountains as I made my way down to my bus stop today.<span style=""> </span>In the end, it was easily the clearest day that I have had in the three months I have now been in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Venezuela</st1:place></st1:country-region>.<span style=""> </span>Indeed, spinning phrases of pride in my country, I have spent a very tired but happy day as a walking cliché.<span style=""> </span>Arriving at CIC today, I was congratulated not only by citizens from the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United States</st1:place></st1:country-region>, but from people from the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United Kingdom</st1:place></st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region><st1:place>Canada</st1:place></st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region><st1:place>Venezuela</st1:place></st1:country-region>, <st1:country-region><st1:place>Colombia</st1:place></st1:country-region>, and more than I could hope to remember.<span style=""> </span>For all the articles in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region> media stating how there truly was excitement around the globe for Obama’s election, I had the unique opportunity to see it first-hand.<span style=""> </span>Tellingly, the largest newspapers in <st1:city><st1:place>Caracas</st1:place></st1:City> had Obama’s face plastered on their front page as well; and, I saw plenty of people eagerly reading the results, and what they might mean for the relations of our two countries.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>In their post-election coverage, the <i>New York Times</i> had an article featuring narratives from correspondents around the world on the reaction to the election results.<span style=""> </span>Below is Simon Romero’s poignant recollection of his night in <st1:city><st1:place>Caracas</st1:place></st1:City>:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">___________________________________________________________________</p> <p><strong>CARACAS, Venezuela | By Simon Romero </strong><span style="font-style: italic;">The sputtering bus inched its way up the streets of Petare, this city’s largest slum, delivering its passengers in front of Vecinito, Enrique Cisneros’s corner store. Salsa blared from loudspeakers perched nearby on the stoops of cinderblock hovels. </span></p> <p style="font-style: italic;">“Pull up a seat, we’re celebrating tonight,” said Mr. Cisneros, 37, opening a bottle of Blender’s Pride whiskey. He poured the spirit into plastic cups, mixed in some orange juice, and declared to his guests, “The United States is choosing a black man as its president. Maybe we can share a bit in this happiness.” </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">His guests Tuesday night included a schoolteacher, a shoe factory worker, an accountant’s assistant, a telephone operator and a couple of foreign journalists. They sipped Mr. Cisneros’s concoction or nursed Polar Ice beers and engaged in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Venezuela</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s top pastime: political debate. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">“This is the first American election I can remember in my lifetime that I was eager to witness,” said Armando Díaz, 24, who works at Movistar, a cellphone company here. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">“Before, we’d just switch the channel to baseball,” said Mr. Díaz, gazing at a television announcer on Globovisión and wrapping Venezuelan rapid-fire Spanish around the names of states like <st1:state><st1:place>Connecticut</st1:place></st1:State> and <st1:state><st1:place>Rhode Island</st1:place></st1:State>. “It’s kind of nice to feel good about the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United States</st1:place></st1:country-region> again.” </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">As they do in almost any gathering here in which people examine the toxicity of Venezuelan political life, in this instance through the lens of the election of Barack Obama as president, jokes ensued. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">Sitting under a poster of a playful painting by Carlos Cruz-Díez, a kinetic artist, most of those present proudly identified themselves as “pitiyanquis,” or petite yanquis, thus appropriating a vitriolic insult used with increasing frequency by President Hugo Chávez to describe his opponents. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">“I wonder if Chávez can stop referring to the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United States</st1:place></st1:country-region> with such hatred, if only for a few days,” said Lucy Martínez, 44, a teacher at a primary school in Petare. “It would be nice to get a break from that.” </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">As if on cue, Globovisión shifted its broadcast to focus on a political cartoon from Tuesday’s newspapers here, showing an image of Mr. Chávez and the headline “Anti-Imperial Discourse,” under a smaller photo of Mr. Obama next to the words, “Expiration Date, 11/4.” </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">In other words, the punching bag that the Bush administration has been for Mr. Chávez may be losing its stuffing. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">As night engulfed the streets outside Vecinito, revelers rejoiced. As slums go, this area of Petare, called La Montañita, was not so bad, they claimed. Many of its residents were working class or middle class, struggling to rise in life. They all agreed their most pressing concern was with violent crime. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">“Sometimes the police don’t arrive for an entire day to pick up the body after someone is shot dead on the street,” said Yamile Contreras, 30, a telephone operator with hair dyed about a shade lighter than Marilyn Monroe’s. “Is it true <st1:state><st1:place>New York</st1:place></st1:State> was once this violent?” </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">Then they turned the tables on their journalist guests, peppering them with more questions about American oddities like its electoral college. (Is that democratic?) They asked when <st1:country-region><st1:place>America</st1:place></st1:country-region>’s distant wars would come to an end. They asked whether <st1:country-region><st1:place>America</st1:place></st1:country-region> was in a recession or a depression. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">Bidding farewell after an evening filled with awe over the events unfolding in the <st1:country-region><st1:place>United States</st1:place></st1:country-region>, those gathered at Vecinito embraced each other and piled their visitors and Mr. Cisneros, the owner of the corner store, into a bandit taxi parked outside. </p> <p style="font-style: italic;">Ear-splitting salsa blared again from the speakers of the car, an astonishingly large 1982 Chevrolet Malibu without seat belts. “I love American cars,” the taxi driver said as he drove on Petare’s maze of streets, which were still buzzing with pedestrian activity past <st1:time minute="0" hour="0">midnight</st1:time>. Motorcycles whizzed by in the <st1:place>Caribbean</st1:place> night. </p> <div style="border-style: none none solid; border-color: -moz-use-text-color -moz-use-text-color windowtext; border-width: medium medium 1.5pt; padding: 0in 0in 1pt; font-style: italic;"> <p style="border: medium none ; padding: 0in;">“A few hours ago,” said Mr. Cisneros, “the world felt like a different place.”</p> </div> <p>So, at risk of recalling the lyrics of that horrible country song that they always play at the 4<sup>th</sup> of July:<span style=""> </span>Today, I am indeed proud to be an American.<span style=""> </span>As I listened to the community of travelers that makes up my school, I agreed with the comments that, as Americans in the recent past, many have felt apprehension when going abroad on how a certain foreign community would react to Americans.<span style=""> </span>I believe that, at least for the foreseeable future, that concern has now disappeared.<span style=""> </span>I am confident that the sole act of electing a President Barack Obama has already improved our immediate standing in the world.<span style=""> </span></p> <p>While I know that the hardest work lies ahead, I know that something great has already been accomplished.<span style=""> </span>Thousands of miles away from my home, I saw an enthusiasm and excitement about <st1:country-region><st1:place>U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region> politics from the people of a country that many <st1:country-region><st1:place>U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region> citizens consider to be an enemy.<span style=""> </span></p> <p>Looking back, I can remember a cold December day in <st1:place><st1:city>Waterloo</st1:City>, <st1:state>Iowa</st1:State></st1:place>.<span style=""> </span>I sat and watched Barack Obama speak to a crowd in a high school auditorium that probably wasn’t even half full.<span style=""> </span>While there were eager supporters in the mix, it was obvious that candidate who had now already been campaigning in the state for months, still had some work to do if he was to capture what would eventually catapult him through the primary race.<span style=""> </span>Last night, I saw hundreds of thousands of people gather to celebrate a cause that has come to fruition after many months.<span style=""> </span></p> <p>With the risk of again sounding too cliché: </p> <p>We’ve come a long way since then.<o:p></o:p></p>Evanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06437669277977973323noreply@blogger.com0