Cold Spaghetti

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The word “chipped” makes me think of three things: ham, china, and attitude.

Chipped ham is what we get in Pittsburgh when visiting my extended family.  No one else does it quite the same, in little pieces so fine that they clump together — little ‘chipped’ pieces of meat.

Everyone’s got some sort of chipped china-ware in their house.  Or if they don’t, they are stressing about where and when it will inevitably come.

Attitude?  It comes from the phrase “chip on the shoulder,” meaning you’ve got some attitude.  Granted, you can’t really have a “chipped” on your shoulder, but I can’t really stop my brain from making word associations, can I?   That is why you must be very careful when talking to me about that round, juicy, sweet produce you picked up at yesterday’s market.

When I thought of attitude, I thought of this picture.

It was taken in the dusty young town of Pachacutec, in the extreme end of the Northern Cone of Lima, Peru.  Lima is a huge city of over 8 million clinging to the strip of desert between the Andes and the Pacific Ocean.  Fresh water is extremely limited; in this community, water is literally trucked in a few times a week, filled by hose into outdoor barrels.  More than half of the city’s population has less water per day than the UNHCR standard allowance of 20 liters.  In this type of environment, “clean” is a relative term: “clean” is when a dirt floor is swept, and the grime on children’s faces is rearranged by a dry, dusty cloth.  Our concept of “hygiene” is not possible, nor can it even be conceptualized, in a place where water is so scarce and poverty so pressing.

There was a big, brightly painted bus outside of one of the health clinics my friend Barbara took the health class to last summer.  The bus was the local government’s response to the paucity of health care facilities in the community (e.g.: 1 pediatrician working 2-3 times a week in for a community of over 200,000).  It boldly sat outside a worn health post, fading into the surrounding buildings in muted grays and browns.  The huge faces of children smiling with toothy grins seemed to make all sorts of unbelievable promises… along side the name of the local mayor.  I took a few pictures of the bus and a makeshift market outside of it, selling decorations for a celebration at one of the schools.  Then, two boys approached me directly and asked to have their pictures taken.  “Por supuesto,” I said.  Then they wiped grins off their faces and posed.  I paused and laughed, “estan seguros?” I wanted to be sure that this was what they wanted.  “SI!”

And I love the picture.  I love it because it’s in front of that damn bus, that although helpful to a few will have no chance of reaching the many.  I love it because the message is to me and all the other immeasurably privileged people that will see it, people with opportunities that they could not dream to have.  I love it because it says to me, ‘what? you want to see how rough it is to live here? well, screw you.  If you want to do something about it, then do it.  But don’t expect me to be all pitiful and thankful to whatever you throw my way.’

Finally, I love it because, underneath it all, they are just kids with senses of humor and pride and love and goodness — savvy enough to understand their perceived place in the world and throw out a little statement about it.

And they are exactly right.

In my view, no one deserves to have more of a chip than these kids.

For more takes on “Chipped” — please check out the rest of the Photohunt at tnchick.

Check out the Photohunt website for more information and photographs.

Aftermath. That’s the Photohunt theme for this week.  Do I have pictures of aftermath?  Does the Pope wear a funny hat?

I thought about just skipping the week all together.  I’m not really in the mood to think about aftermath.  But here’s one.  Of many.

Also, I’m linking to pictures, and more, of aftermath.  They just scratch the surface.

Both the ugly.

And the recovery.

Immigrants from Mexico participate in a cultural program showcasing traditional Mexican dance and dress at half-time during a Pan-American soccer game held in New Orleans, LA.

Creo que el futuro de los Estados Unidos está escrito en más que una lengua.

I believe that the future of the United States is written in more than one language.

Hispanics are the largest ethnic minority in the United States.  Within my children’s lifetimes, this group is predicted to become the largest ethnic group in the United States.  I believe that embracing our Nation’s future as part of the Americas, and seeing ourselves as a multi-ethnic, multi-lingual, multi-cultural society is what will bring us hope for the future.

I was thinking of photos from our first year in the house, when Paul stripped the hanging doors before Katrina and re-wired the entire house.  Squeaky made me think of electronics, metals, and the sounds of our old house.

Then I saw this picture of Will, mixed in with those early home-improvement days.

And I thought, “mouse,” which is most definitely a squeaky little thing.

So here’s my first born at 17 months.  Back in the days when he could be called squeaky.

Wide.

Wow, this kind of photography assignment could be dangerous.  Where and what (who?) can I capture as wide?  (My mind panics thinking of the picture of my backside Will took with my camera while I we were decorating the tree last night — mental note, deduct fee from college savings as retribution.)

In this case, what HAVE I captured that speaks to WIDE?  Just saying the word makes me think of the Dixie Chick’s song, Wide Open Spaces, of which I only know the words to that particular phrase in the song.  And I love me some ‘chicks, but whoa, I just can’t get past it while on That Word.

So “wide” in terms of “space” was on my mind as I hunted photos.  And this is what I found.

Wide, open, everything in front of them totally and completely open to them and for them.

Paul and Will, flying a kite, Fort Walton Beach.

Beach.

No more Dixie Chicks in my head now, as my thoughts have switched to the all-consuming question of why is it, again, that we don’t live there?

This week’s Photohunt theme was FAVORITE.  Nothing came to mind, so I flipped through Aperture looking for something that said ‘favorite’ to me.  Bingo.

This is Will and one of his Special Friends, at a fall festival in October.

Full grown female Looziana Alligator comin’ out to chop on a marshmallow breakfast.  A few hours past dawn, Bayou Segnette, Louisiana.

Motorcycles and mototaxis, Iquitos, Peru.  Taken late afternoon in the main square.

Both taken by the 10D with 1/20 shutter speed at f/4.  I wanted to get a slight blur with the taxis in the background, but didn’t have a tripod to risk slower than 1/20 and/or higher than f/4.

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