I’m so homesick I can’t even call home anymore. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to go to Cedar. I just want to go home…
May 10, 2009
happy mother’s day
I’ve been going back and forth about whether or not to write about this, and if you know me, you’re familiar with my usually-very-vague xanga entries and my aversion to being really specific with anything personal and then, this is pretty out of the ordinary for me…
For the past three weeks, my mom’s been going through bouts of “cardiac symptoms” (I’m not even entirely sure what that means…my parents won’t clarify). I won’t really elaborate but the doctors said it was due to high blood pressure and she is now on several types of meds for HBP. All I know is she’s been in and out of the hospital and talking on the phone every time really scares me cause I’ve never heard her sound that way before.
My mom has always been my rock — I’ve never even thought about worrying about her about anything, let alone her health. I can’t imagine her aging or “slowing down”, and those of you who know my mom understand this about her. She’s the strongest woman I know. She does everything! Everything! And yet, when someone asks for more –her family, in-laws, church, friends, me– rarely have I seen her turn them down.
She is so much more than I could ever understand; she’s done so much more than I can ever know; and she loves me more than I can ever comprehend. This mother’s day, all I can think about is how much I’ve sucked as a daughter. I think of all those times I didn’t call when I should’ve, the times we fought because I felt like being bratty, or the times I was impatient with her without trying to help her. And yet, through the BS I gave her, she still loves me. I know because even through her ordeal, all she worries about is me. I know I love her because every time I call, I get scared of what might’ve happened during the 23 hours I didn’t call, but I get even more scared when no one answers.
I know my mom and I haven’t been the best at overtly showing our love for one another. We don’t really say it. We don’t hug a whole lot, but if you’re reading this right now, mom…
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I LOVE you. Please don’t ever leave me.
love, esther
ENDNOTE:
Please pray for my mom. I know she’s been a mom to a lot of people — a lot more than just me and my brothers. What would we do without her?
Pray for my dad and my brothers — I know they must’ve been scared at first, and now, probably a little lost about what to do. They need to help out my mom.
Although I put this up on the internet, there aren’t a whole lot of people who read this and I’m not entirely sure who my family has told. Please refrain from mentioning this to other people without a cause. Please don’t treat my family differently. I’m really sensitive about this and it really keeps me from wanting to share a lot, especially since it involves my familly. Please be respectful of the information I’ve decided to disclose.
May 4, 2009
Modern-day Romance
This quarter, I’m taking a class called Ethnographies of Muslim Societies, and we have to read Veiled Sentiments by Lila Abu-Lughod (which I highly recommend). It’s about her study with the Awlad ‘Ali, which is a now sedentary Bedouin tribe in the Western Desert of Egypt, and her two main focuses are veiling and poetry. Poetry! They still speak in poetry! How romantic is that?! In their culture, it isn’t appropriate to reveal any emotions outside of anger or detachment, but in the context of poetry, the sentiments of sadness, remorse, joy, and love become socially acceptable. The Awlad ‘Ali all share a large resource of ancient traditional poetry that is common knowledge to all bedouin, but they are able to manipulate the poem to make sense in their particular situation at that place and time. Each poem is one line, fifteen syllables, and divided into two hemistitches, but these lines are able to be manipulated into an entire song or poem either as a traditional song/poem or one created spontaneously by the singer/poet. Here’s an example of a “crying” song made from two lines:
The two-lined poem:
Tears increased, oh Lord
the beloved came to mind in the time of sadness…
The song:
in the time
in the time
in the time of sadness
in the time
beloved in the time of sadness
in the time
in the time
beloved in the time of sadness
in the time
in the time
in the time of tears
tears increased oh Lord
in the time
in the time
belvoed came to mind
the beloved came to mind in the time of sadness…
I bookmarked some I liked to share with you all:
Cooking with a liquid of tears
at a funeral done for the beloved…
Her bad deeds were wrongs that hurt
yet I won’t repay them, still dear the beloved
This was sung by a husband who’s wife ran away because of her unhappiness with him. He couldn’t express his happiness and his love for her when she returned (because this was seen as a display of overt sexuality and lack of self-control, the highest moral quality in the culture), but he sang her this song as an indirect expression of his love, says his now returned wife.
I’ve lost their tracks, the loved ones
perhaps my singing will bring them…
This song is from an ancient tale about a bride, who already was on the bridal camel to her husband’s community, that dismounts that camel and leaves with her admirer after he sings her this song.
Oh if only someone would sing me a poem they made up for me on the spot! Too bad romance in the US consists of a dinner and a movie.
On another note…
I’ve been trying to do things that make me happy that I “don’t have time” for anymore. Like reading in the sun (more due to weather conditions), spending time at the beach with friends, or…
painting!
replica of Fancy Dress by John White Alexander
love, esther
April 29, 2009
At Goudy Elementary in Uptown Chicago
Yesterday, in my journalism class (which is located in uptown chicago, about 30 minutes from campus), my group and I went to talk to a few single mothers from the local elementary school because that’s the target group for our group project. I’ve mostly done a lot of “soft” journalism in my classes, but this project, for the first time, really motivates me to want to do something. It makes me feel like something has to happen. They are so willing to talk to us, even at their own expense because no one else will listen to them and if they don’t talk, then no one will know their stories. For example, this lady right here:
She has three children, 7, 12, and 20, and she is on disability support because she got seven blood clots a little over half a year ago. Both of her children’s fathers abused her and her father abused her mother. All three of her children are severely asthmatic, and the family’s medical issues forces her to cut everything else, including food, in order to make her insurance bill every month. They’re one foot out of their run-down, gang-ridden apartment building because she continues to speak out against the conditions of the building, despite the threats of her landlord, whom she says “looks down on them [single mothers].” (We have yet to speak to the landlord). And through all this, she says the “proudest moment of her life” was when her child’s schoo made her “Parent of the year” — simple pleasures.
My group decided to do a video expose on this building, and already having met three women who live in it, I hope something will come out of it, regardless of the fact that it is only a student project. Her’s is not the only story — there are so many more women that struggle to make it day to day. Listening to their stories really shook my soul, and I hope I can say it “broke my heart” (an abused phrase) but we’ll have to see about that. How can a heart really be broken for someone/something if no action comes of it? I really think God put me in this position — He had me take this class, He forced me out of my comfort zone, and showed me there’ s so much more to this world than what I perceive. And He’s telling me to do something about it.
Once we get the video done, I’ll post it up.
love, esther
April 29, 2009
Hello world!
Yes! Hello world of wordpress.com! I did it! I finally did it! I made a new blog. Hopefully, hopefully!! this is my new beginning to the blogworld. I tried to write in my xanga every once in a while (honestly) but I really couldn’t. I don’t think I’m the same girl I was when I had written in it, and since it’s been so long since I had written in it, there was no transition like my “stages” from before. It was just then-me…and now-me. (And I’ll be honest. I’m procrastinating with my work.) WordPress is overwhelming, though, and you wordpress vets are gonna have to help me through it.
Actually, I was really inspired to make this because I wanted to share my journalism class experience today, and I feel like facebook notes are lame and don’t do blogging justice, so I will update later tonight. Welcome back to the blogging world, esther han!
love, esther
