And I'm Off!

A very quick post today, as I prepare to head off on my next adventure. Following visits to friends in the United Kingdom, I'll be traveling to Poland, specifically Biebrza National Park. I will be volunteering for an organization to collect field data on the threatened Aquatic Warbler, so that their breeding biology and reproductive success may be determined. The data may provide some clues for how to best manage their habitat, so that the population will grow. I will be living remotely within the park with no internet access, except from the field office several miles away, so my blog posts will likely become infrequent. I will try to do the best I can!

Polski List

I’ve spent the past several hours composing a letter to a relative in Poland, with whom I have recently connected.  I have learned a few words and phrases over the past couple of months through my inconsistent podcast usage and practice.  Yet, I know nothing of sentence structure and verb conjugation, my knowledge of assigning proper gender articles and endings to objects is minimal, and I generally spell Polish words phonetically in my podcast notes because it’s far too complicated otherwise.  Needless to say, these factors make for an interesting letter, and I imagine that she derives much amusement from my feeble attempts at writing in the Polish language. 

During my writing sessions, I am constantly revising sentences for the sake of simplicity.  Although, I find Polish to be a challenging language, it is really quite straight-forward and to the point, which is demonstrated by the significant lack of Polish equivalents to English articles and other filler words.  I also greatly mistrust the accuracy of online translation tools.  As a result, I translate the Polish word or phrase provided by the translator back into English, in order to see how jumbled my message became in a matter of seconds.  It reminds me of the telephone game, in which a sentence is whispered from one person to the next, all the way down the line, until the final player states aloud something entirely different from what the group began with.  When I am really struggling with the online translator to produce a translation with some resemblance to my original meaning, I pull out my hefty Polish-English dictionary to do it the old-fashioned way. 

But, finally, my letter is complete and ready to mail and, hopefully, does not contain too many awkward mistakes!

Better to Have Loved and Lost

“It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.”

- Alfred Lord Tennyson

This is a powerful quote full of truth, yet so bittersweet, and easy to overlook and underappreciate when one has not truly experienced loss.  I have written about the pain and sadness, which I have experienced over what had seemed to be true love, yet this does not compare to the suffering endured when a lover departs this world.  Loss is then, no longer about companions growing apart or one deciding that it is time to move on.  It is a forced separation of individuals very much in love, with their lives planned out, looking forward to growing old together.  Yet, for some unknown reason, this opportunity is denied.  Dreams are crushed.  The physical bond is broken. 

At least with the average break-up, one can eventually let go and take comfort in the fact that their former lover is happier now in a better place.  I suppose, this can still be said of death, as it eases the suffering of the one in pain, but it doesn’t seem the same to me. 

I read of and try to imagine what it could possibly be like to endure such anguish, but I have no real frame of reference.  I feel silly and selfish for permitting the mourning my own loss to consume me, when my former love is still alive and able to make a life for himself, as he desires.  I should not allow myself to experience my losses and defeats as if they are the end of my world, as there are nearly always worse alternatives, which I would be unable to comprehend.

The Thrill of New Love

Flashback to...February 2010

New love can be an intense and thrilling experience that continually draws one back, eager to delve deeper into this discovery; trying to uncover what it is about his touch, the twinkle in his eyes, his presence that drives me crazy.  I feel the urge to return to those moments, as often as I can, to explore this emotional connection, so that I might attach some conclusions to this abstraction.  But also, those memories make me feel so good.  I don’t want to let that feeling of satisfaction get away, not even for a day, and I look ahead in eager anticipation to the next time I get to experience it. 

Yet, it’s important not to get lost in the emotion and excitement because it will not necessarily better acquaint me with him. I need to ask questions, engage him, and simply enjoy the process of
                                                               getting to know who he is. 

It is also easy to become so immersed in another person that I forget about myself.  I must remember that spending time with myself is just as important as time with him, as well as with my friends.  I don’t want to lose touch with myself.  I need to balance my desire and need to learn, explore, and discover within friends, my lover, and myself because all are important presences my life. 

I need to continue establishing and enforcing boundaries.  Just because one thing changes, shouldn’t mean that the floodgates let loose to overwhelm all that we’ve worked toward.  Make small adjustments as the situation calls for them.  One thing doesn’t always have to lead to another.  There is no set path or guidelines.  We can make our connection what we want it to be, the way we want it to be, without forgetting or dismissing our original goals and intentions, even as it becomes more challenging and easier to lose oneself in another, in a connection.

Switching Gears

After having slept for two hours prior to a full day of traveling home from Puerto Rico, I'm not yet feeling up to the task of composing a new post. So I will switch gears and provide you with a flashback of a different sort.

December 2011

Together, we walked along these roads

In the damp and the snow

With your arm across my shoulders,

My arm around your waist,

And our love burning fiercely;

We kept the cold at bay.

Alone, I walked along these roads,

As you embarked upon a new adventure

And I was left here;

Caught between the misery of being separated from you

And the joy of your fresh start and new life;

I earnestly await our next reunion.

Alone, again, I walk along these roads,

Along these roads, where we laughed and played;

In these fields, where we shared secrets and goals;

On these paths, where we hiked for hours;

In these woods, where we passionately embraced.

Your memory is everywhere.

I feel your lingering presence,

Which is swept away upon the wind,

So that I am left with only your ominous absence

And the frigidness of our extinguished love.

The Ones We Love, We Hurt the Most

“The ones we love, we hurt the most.”

-Anonymous?? (Please tell me if you know who coined it!)

This is a thought-provoking quote.  Although the explosive verbal abuse of my boss can be hurtful, insulting, and downright mean in the moment, in the grand scheme of things, she has little effect on me, and her opinions and actions matter little, since I have zero emotional (or any other kind of) attachment to her.  On the other hand, if my mother berated me so, I would not even be at this internship because I would either lack the self-confidence to even set foot outside my front door with my head held high or be locked away in a psychiatric institution.  Words and actions can certainly sting, but the one who says or does these things determines the degree of impact.

This train of thought, of course, brought me back to my ex and my knee jerk reaction to the circumstances post-break-up.  In the moment, I felt that my words and actions were justified, that I had sufficient time to consider my course of action, after having been sitting idly by and contemplating this for months.  Yet, now, being far enough removed (I hope) from that time of my life, I believe that I was too harsh, too judgmental, too demanding.  I was seeking justice for myself and neglected to consider his side of things, his circumstances.  I find myself full of regret for treating him so, in spite of my mantra to live without.  I doubt that he could ever find it in his heart to forgive me, and I would not blame him.

What I Will Miss About Puerto Rico

As the anger begins to resurface at the two-faced behaviors that I have experienced through my daily interactions with a particular individual, I feel that I must take time to refocus my thoughts on the positive aspects of my time in Puerto Rico, which are listed below, in no particular order.

·         A fresh produce section growing right in the back yard complete with mangos, papayas, bananas, pumpkins, cherry tomatoes, corazons (also known as custard apples), plantains, and pomegranates

·         The quick healing powers of the aloe vera plant

·         Friday night magic shows with tricks designed for a “four-year-old”

·         I can see the ocean from the patio

·         No one owns a dryer

·         Little lizards constantly scurrying about

·         Frequent visits from beautiful tropical song birds and magnificent raptors

·         The funny way that one barking dog causes the entire neighborhood to erupt in yelps

·         The absurdity of the idea that roosters only crow at dawn

·         Working outside on my laptop

·         Good people, who make up the vast majority of the team

·         Big group dinners with lots of food

·         Mastering the arts of grilling and baking desserts in a toaster oven

The Color and the Shape

Just like home, I love eating breakfast at the kitchen table, while watching the birds flitting about in their morning routine.  At home, their primary focus is the bird feeder, which is fastened to the patio railing, directly in view through the French door.  The birds rummage through the tropical bushes and fruit trees, perhaps, seeking shelter, just as much as food.  The strange songs and striking color patterns often catch my attention and, one day, I finally grabbed the Puerto Rico bird identification field guide, so that I might put some names to these faces.

Some of the most frequent and abundant visitors are the Black-faced Grassquits, whose coloration is true to their name, with the exception of the females, which are strictly olive colored.  At times, the males’ buzzy trill can be nearly deafening, like a swarm of cicadas buzzing in the heavy summer heat.  Furthermore, these little birds, which are about half the size of a House Sparrow, are quite bold, as they shoot overhead into the rafters or casually hop within a short distance of the open doorway, in spite of an audience around the patio table

Similarly, the endemic Puerto Rican Troupial makes its presence known with a loud, clear call, which sounds to me like the first three syllables of “miercoles,” Spanish for “Wednesday.”  This bird draws further attention to itself with its bright, yellow body, contrasted by its black head and wings, with a large, white stripe along each.

 

Upon flipping through the field guide, I learned that there are eight dove species in Puerto Rico, which was shocking to me, as there is only one in New England.  One of the primary hang-out spots for White-winged Doves seems to be the neighbors’ rooftop, from which I have witnessed several massive lift-offs.  True to their name, a white wing patch is clearly visible on their folded wings, distinguishing them from other doves.  The other species that I have seen most frequently is the Common-ground Dove, which is a third of the size of the White-winged Dove that is about as large as the Mourning Doves of New England.  This small bird has a speckled, black pattern on its outer wings, and is unmistakable when in flight, with its rufous-colored under-wings.

Hummingbirds also regularly visit the flowering plant pictured here, though it has been difficult to make any positive identifications, due to the speed with which their wings move, quickly carrying them from blossom to blossom.

Still, other species have been reminiscent of home, such as the Greater Antillean Grackle, which is similarly iridescent, but also spreads its tail vertically, like a fan, in a mating or territorial display.  The Yellow-winged Blackbird must be a cousin of the Red-winged Blackbird, as they sing a similar high-pitched, buzzy trill and the wing color is the only noticeable difference to me.  Often, I hear the unmistakable screeches of Red-tailed Hawks in the distance, and once, a couple soared in circles just across the street.  Turkey vultures are also quite prominent, especially in the southern dry forests, and are easily identifiable with the clear distinction between their dark brown secondaries and bright, white primaries.

CD Release!

Two months ago I wrote about a show that I attended and the power of music. Just a few days ago, Hoots and Hellmouth officially released their new album entitled Salt. Of course, it's not comparable to a live performance, which you should check out if they pass through your town, but the melodies and lyrics are moving nonetheless.

You can preview Salt online. It is also for sale on Hoots and Hellmouth's website and bandcamp webpage, Amazon, and iTunes. My favorite song from this album is "Ocean, Open Wide," which illustrates the interconnectedness of all living things. At least, this is how I interpret it.

I hope you enjoy Hoots and Hellmouth's music as much as I do!

New Skills with a Hint of Nostalgia

With the acoustic files double-checked and the humpback whale mating season winding down, my new assigned task is research to build up further educational resources for future programs at the center.  This information should become useful aids for learning about not only humpback whales, but also, the history of Puerto Rico and its people, the ecology and species diversity of the island and surrounding waters, and its geographic and climatic features. 

The object of today was to create a catalog of collected seashells.  This was only the second time that I have used a camera that is not strictly point and shoot, so I found putting setting adjustments into practice to be quite challenging, especially without knowing which buttons or dials made these changes.  The first fifty or so pictures taken by my acoustics' partner and me were either black or blinding from the flash.  We eventually became more comfortable, after lots of fiddling with the settings and downloading the user’s manual, and created clearer, identifiable pictures.

Once we had completed photo shoots with a small line up of shells, we commenced the identification process.  I found myself really appreciating the library of identification guides in the small book shelf at marine station in Ireland, since, now, there were none at our disposal.  I used a combination of Google images, websites with uncertain credibility, and scientific-based websites for cross-referencing.  Pictures may be worth a thousand words, but I feel that they don’t always capture the subtle detail necessary to make a positive id.  However, I was hard-pressed to find any sort of physical description for the majority of our specimens.

The work did bring me back to the marine station, as I remembered sitting at a lab bench in front of a microscope after a long day of surveying and hiking, trying to figure out how an alga that looked so distinctive could take an hour to identify.  It always felt so good, so rewarding, especially after that length of time, to declare with certainty that Latin name...and continue onto another specimen.  Ah, those were some good times!

Turning Over a New Leaf

Flashback to...14 February 2010

The day of my first date with my last love...

I was quite nervous, as my last real date had been about two years prior and was an ultimate disaster.  Not to mention that the men in my life following that incident, I just fell into relationships with, as usual.

After having turned over a new leaf and become more like the person who I wanted to be, I was determined to not rush into anything again.  I wanted to do things right this time, make the right choices.   

And so, I developed a mantra for that afternoon, repeating it constantly aloud before leaving my apartment and throughout the entire walk to the coffee shop, as I feared I might otherwise lose my nerve...

Enjoy the process of getting to know someone.

Practice patience.

Better to get an idea of how things may work out with a guy before getting involved.

Good things come to those who wait.

Be true to myself.  I want to be strong.  I want to not be ruled by my weaknesses.

What seems good at the time isn’t always the right thing to do.

I’ve made so much progress, I don’t want to put myself back at the beginning.

I need to be my own protector.  Set limits, verbalize and enforce them because my comfort is
     most important.

I can’t please everyone.  I should start with myself.

Be strong.  Be assertive.  Know what I want, who I am, and communicate that.

If he doesn’t like the situation, then we just weren’t meant to be.  I can be selective and choose
     who complements me and fits my needs best.

Filling the Void

Flashback to...11 February 2010

I was not able to appreciate my friendships quite as much, when I have been single in the past, as if only a lover could fill this imagined void within myself.  But, there really is no void...

Don't Settle for Second Best

Flashback to...11 February 2010

Some of my thoughts to reassert my self-esteem and self-confidence when I was faced with the prospect of a new romance:

I don’t have to settle for a guy just because he’s interested in me.  I don’t owe him anything.  I’m not obligated to return his feelings, and not doing so doesn’t make me a bad person.  He will choose to feel and act the way he does and shouldn’t expect to illicit a desired response from me

I have a choice in the matter.  I don’t have to settle and become entangled in someone else’s drama and negative energy.  I owe it to myself to move slowly and make good choices; think for myself, instead of being influenced by another’s persuasion or my own guilt.

The Dream Slipping Out of Reach?

Apparently, my internship hopping can also negatively affect my chances at securing further internships and later career-oriented employment.  I worry about this same issue when I’m back at home looking for work; if an employer won’t hire me because it doesn’t look like I can hold a job, as I haven’t stuck with a job for almost three years. 

Since I still live in a society, in which there are certain standards to meet and timelines to follow, by still working at internships after four years out of college, I’m hurting my chances at getting a real job more than helping because employers may have a fear that I can’t commit.  Although, I worry that I will get sucked into a job and never leave, even if I no longer or never have loved the work, sporting a ball and chain around my leg, a symbol of my comfort zone. 

And when did questions become unwarranted?  Perhaps, it depends upon the type of questions, the field of work, and the employer’s personality and methods, among other things.  I’ve often been praised for asking many insightful questions, in order to ensure that I’m doing the work properly, and to avoid any seriously detrimental mistakes.  However, too many questions can slow down the work pace and, apparently, is a sign of weakness, a lack of confidence in my ability to problem solve and think for myself.  I’ll concede some there.  I do need to take more risks and just try, believe in myself. There certainly is a huge benefit to working through questions and obstacles on one’s own, as one can learn that much more from the experience. 

I need to start developing solid skill sets, upon which I can build and take with me to other jobs.  I suppose a year or two of my life isn’t much in the grand scheme of things.  Not to mention, career switching is the norm now.  I don’t have to be stuck.  It’s all a matter of altering my perception, and reigning in my fear.  And, although it doesn’t always show, I have far more self-confidence than I once did.  Yet, I still find myself living in the past, where I was four years ago, with the fear of being bound to a decision forever; a fear which has cost me my last love and now, potentially, my life goals and dreams.

Any thoughts?

Live Life to the Fullest

Flashback to...3 February 2010

And still incredibly relevant today... 

It seems almost silly to be making new connections when I will likely be leaving in a matter of months.  Why put in the effort?   

I suppose it’s not about length of time, but about quality of time that I spend with people.  Lessons may be learned even in the shortest amount of time.  Why cower away from the risk of putting myself out there and deny myself such an opportunity to learn, to laugh, and to live? 

Humpback Whale Festival

All of the interns and the boss piled into the rental van, crowded by all of our equipment to journey to Rincón’s Humpback Whale Festival.  Actually, the festival seemed more like a craft fair, as vendors had their artistic creations of jewelry, glass figures, food, and wooden pieces on display, although many did include the likeness of the humpback whale on or among their items. 

Our role was to educate the public on humpback whales and their importance to Puerto Rico, and to engage them in the research being conducted at the center.  In order to better demonstrate the work and to take advantage of being at one of the surveying locations, we set up the tracking equipment, including a theodolite and a pair of large, heavy, marine-worthy binoculars. 

Having not been as immersed in the research as the longer-term interns to effectively communicate with the public, I was able to focus my attention on learning and practicing field skills.  Using the naked eye and binoculars, two to three other interns and I scanned the sea for anything out of the ordinary that might indicate a humpback whale.  We were on the lookout for common behaviors, such as breaching out of the water, shooting water from a blowhole, slapping pectoral fins, slapping tail, or displaying fluke.  Having never seen any of these behaviors before, I was uncertain what to look for in this large oceanic expanse with several kilometers of visibility and little training; however, it’s one of those things that one recognizes when one sees it.

We continued in this way for several hours, with breaks of course, until a downpour replaced the beating hot sun, which drove us under cover and left many of our possessions soaked.  In spite of not having seen a humpback whale all day, this signaled the end of our time here, and we gradually sorted, dried, and packed our things for the return trip to the van.