". . . But the past does not exist independently from the present. Indeed, the past is only past because there is a present, just as I can point to something over there only because I am here. But nothing is inherently over there or here. In that sense, the past has no content. The past -- or more accurately, pastness -- is a position. Thus, in no way can we identify the past as past." p. 15

". . . But we may want to keep in mind that deeds and words are not as distinguishable as often we presume. History does not belong only to its narrators, professional or amateur. While some of us debate what history is or was, others take it into their own hands." p. 153

Silencing the Past: Power and the Production of History (1995) by Michel-Rolph Trouillot

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Waiting For the Snow Godot

El V broke finally the Waiting for Godot Haiti trip (though there, you still spend most of your day waiting for godot in various guises: your car, etc.).

Maybe this time around the promised snow TheySayWeatherCritters have been warning, threatening, promising for months will arrive this weekend.  This time they might deliver because this is Great Big Storm that will collide with another one, and they have for some unfathomable reason taken to calling it Nemo. Instead of weather, this is all we get these days -- is Great Big Humongous Storms that through wind and water (whether snow or rain or both) wipe out power, property and the ability to actually you know WORK for days at a time -- or wildfires and drought.

El V brought back a nasty bug he likely acquired this last weekend at Carnival in Jacmel.  Port au Prince's carnival is Fat Tuesday, which this year is also Abe Lincoln's birthday, so Jacmel has it's carnival the week before. I've been given tastes of the video and photos he shot and Ooo-La-La -- it is spectacular stuff.  What knocks people like us back though is how familiar so much of it is, because the buildings (the ones still standing) may as well be in New Orleans.  And so many of the parade groups are -- well you see where the Wild Man and others of the Indians come from.  Jacmel carnival is also really rough as well as psychedelic: again you see the older Indian traditions.

He spent hours and hours with still camera, video camera and audio recording rig in the middle of the street parades, without any backup or assistance.  He was shoved, pushed and body blocked for days and nights..  And that's probably how he got whatever it is he's got that has taken away his voice.  And here it is: he had to sing yesterday for a television thing and he did it.  And he's supposed to be singing in San Francisco a week from yesterday ....

He's resting here.  I spent three hours in the cold to be ready for the hunker, if indeed the hunker will be called upon.  But we got it all, of whatever we need. Or might need.  As long as the power doesn't go out, that is.  It's awfully cold here.  I don't generally realize it outside because I'm dressed so well for it -- except for the upper part of my face.  I've been back inside for an hour and my cheeks are still red and cold.  And somehow, I feel tired. Well, I did bring back two good curl up in bed and read novels including what looks like a satisfyingly bloody historical on the eve of William's invasion of England, a half gallon of milk, four bottles of wine and assorted other things.  I must have walked 5 miles or so doing assorted shopping -- still after that damned elusive perfect duvet cover for the huge puffy duvet I never use because I loathe the cover,  and the equally elusive perfect blanket for warmer weather, another comforter and quilt, to replace some of ours that are rapidly reaching the stage of beyond the pale.

Now the dinner is getting ready, rice and refried, corn tortillas, chicken, diced green chili, tomatoes and lettuce, cheese and sour cream.  This will work.

Gonna be another damned cold night, but my baby's here, so I won't notice.  :)

No comments: