Wednesday, March 28, 2007

A Hosting Job in Latin America

So... I wanna be on the Travel Channel. This was my oh-so-subtle "I really want this gig" email to the producer. Yikes! Desperate much?
*******
I'll beg. That's so pathetic, but my desire for this opportunity is surprisingly deep.

Surprising in that, since I checked my email this morning, I've thought about this opportunity all day. At the doctor's office, I saw so many little kids - running around, sniffing their noses, playing with blocks - all from unique backgrounds and yet getting along as if siblings. Walking back to my apartment in Queens, I thought about how different this city is to my native Kentucky. I thought about how my move to New York has changed me, altered my world perspective, and taught me how deeply "home" is sewn into the threads of my heart.

I love culture. I love how, even in America, we are so different. How when I talk about my Mamaw & Papaw, I have to explain that they are my grandparents. How when I say it's cold enough to wear a toboggan, I have to explain that it is a sock-cap and not a sled. How when I want chicken, I want it fried... when I want milk, I want it whole... when I want hugs, I want them tight, back-slappin', and even from strangers. That --- is my Southern culture.

I love culture. I love how, even in America, we are so different. How when I went for drinks with the folks at work, we had to "Salud" before the first sip. (oops - thirsty me!) How when I get my nails done, the ladies let me practice my Spanish with them... and all the other clients stare at the white girl. How the Latinos I know just dance and dance and dance... at work on break, dancing around the breakroom... on the train with a loud ipod... at New Year's parties, birthday parties, cookout parties - they dance! With their families! Salsa, Merengue, Bachata, Reggaeton! Esa --- es su cultura latina.

I love culture. My dad traveling to Kenya, Africa while I was in the third grade, bringing back elephant teeth, wood carvings, jewelry for Momma, and so many coins. I got an authentic African princess dress and went to Miss Henson's class saying Jambo to all of my friends - Hello-ing them with so much pride. My daddy was finally back from Africa and he'd bought me presents! He came to school with me and showed pictures, told stories, and gave out coins to EVERY SINGLE classmate. At my high school reunion, friends I hadn't seen in forever approached me saying, "I still have that coin your Dad gave me in 3rd grade."

I really think that so many people would appreciate the beauty of culture if they weren't scared of it... didn't misunderstand it. I want to teach them.

I've been begging my husband to take me abroad. He's coming around from the days of "plan a girls' trip with your friends". I think my travels as a Latin American journalist would teach him to open his eyes and his heart to the world beyond our borders. I was looking at grants recently, trying to find a way to travel and write and learn and learn and learn. And then, this opportunity...

I am a sponge. I long to soak up every pore with musica, y comida, y las risas de la gente alli. And I am so inquisitive - want to understand not only the machine, but how it works. I would make a super Travel Journalist. I just know it.

I am a writer. I am a hard, hard worker. Growing up in a small, farm town of 6,000 in Kentucky, I learned to feed the cows, set tobacco, build fence, roof a shed; and I learned to get all A's in school, learned to love the God of my parents, and learned to gaze out beyond the barbed wire borders of our 40 acres...

To appreciate boundaries and to test them, too.

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