Work Hard, Play Harder

Between working two jobs and having two social lives, I found myself working hard and playing harder in D.C. There is no other way to describe it. The harder I worked, the harder I played. As I spend my days reading, swimming, and applying to jobs back in Brea, California I recognize a trend in my life. I go with the momentum of my surroundings. As mentioned in my previous post "From West to East", with energetic surroundings, my energy will stay afloat and I spin out of control. I recognized this adjustment coming back from living a few months in a foster care home in Spain, moving back into the scholastic and collegial lifestyle at Berkeley. I was inclined to take it easy and keep things simple, organized, and fun. Fall 2011 semester, I received my best marks and, more importantly, absorbed and learned the most out of any other semester at Berkeley. With four classes, a couple soccer teams, and limited working hours, I was focused and clear-headed. By Spring 2012, my last semester at Berkeley, I had sunk back into the worker-bee, do-it-all attitude from my surroundings. Taking 21 units, I did do it all. That being said, I dabbled in many things rather than absorbing all the material.

All I am trying to say is this past year has been a lesson in surrounding influences and how deeply they influence my motivations. For now, I will take my time to sip coffee and read the morning paper in Brea, California. 

From West to East

When I was concluding my study-abroad experience in Spain, I remember feeling I had visited more places in Europe than in the United States. It felt shameful that I had been to Rome, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Athens, and even Istanbul before visiting New York City. I know, I sound like I am complaining but this motivated my post-graduation move to D.C. This past summer I was able to study, or rather intern, abroad in my own country, as the East Coast proves to be quite different than the West. I didn't get to the East Coast shore, so I can't comment on the difference of swells between the Atlantic and Pacific. I refer to the East Coast attitude. More specifically, I saw the D.C. work force to be the strongest workaholics I have seen, all to get ahead. In comparison to los Madrileños on siesta or the Berkeleyans at a coffee shop, these D.C. people prefer the happy hour, after too many hours of work. With the amount of young professionals around looking for their next move, for their next great opportunity, D.C. has a culture of networking, seeping into the happy hour conversation.

I may come off cynical, but I mean to sound in awe. It is an attitude I haven't experienced before. I didn't think about it much until I left D.C. I should have known though. After finding all the regional differences within Spain, just larger than California, of course D.C. would be very different. After four years of Bay Area education, concluding Northern California and Southern California are essentially different states, of course D.C. would be different. And yet, I am amazed over and over again by the sharp influence my surroundings had on me. How much they permeate my actions and cause a mind shift without even realizing it. Who needs a lunch break anyway?

Plane taking off from Reagan airport over Potomoc River

My time in D.C. was not only a movement West to East, but North to South as well. At my part-time hostessing gig, I found a community to learn some new Spanish dialects including Honduran, Salvadorian, Mexican, and Peruvian. Within my country, I learned more about Honduras than ever before. In fact, a co-worker and friend, Ever Aguirre Bonilla, taught me all there is to know about Honduras, with an emphasis on fútbol and politics. Needless to say, D.C. was an all-en(compass)ing experience.

One thing to consider before visiting the Capital, you will get to do a lot of free things. This makes a recent college graduate extremely happy. Especially the plethora of options for outdoor movies on any given summer night. I guess what I am getting at is, D.C., although I was exhausted after the summer, I kind of miss you in retrospect. 

Kellari Taverna: A Series of "Whats?"

With Greeks, Latinos, Moroccans and a few Americans, there are a lot of accents at Kellari Taverna where I have a part-time hostess gig. These diverse cultures, accents, and personalities make for a lot of whats? and filling in the blanks and dramatic exits. A part from that, I have time to stand and think while getting paid. Not a bad situation at all. In fact, it forces me to take time to think, which otherwise might take lower priority.

DC Nights

Whether it's a poetry slam at Busboys & Poets, a club on U Street, or a free movie in the park, D.C. nights have grown on me. Everyone is working hard all day, then playing hard at night to release all of the stored energy. The wind, the fireflies, the slower pace is where my young & wild side can be set free. Day & night makes for polar ends and we magnetically attract to the other side, bouncing back and forth in a circular rotation. Until the weekend when I am exhausted and take a break. When does applying for jobs come into the mix?

Where are you from?

Is the first question you are asked from a new acquaintance in D.C. It comes as a surprise when someone is actually from our nation's capital. There is something crucial about this piece of knowledge to a new acquaintance. It gives them the opportunity to begin to understand the other person and some point of reference. And since I'm learning everyday more and more that this world is about who you know, where you are from is the first expression in the equation.

I think it would be cool to shift the question to "Who are you?" That would undoubtedly result in a long pause. Bob Dylan would wittily respond, "All I can do is be me, whoever that is". If that is the best Dylan can come up with, who knows how long that question would go unanswered with a new acquaintance. Cutting to the chase is not so cutting edge, I suppose.

Or what if we asked, "What's your color?" On the personality wheel, we all have different colors. My friend Aja told me her's was blue- the more pensive, introverted type I believe. I just did mine and I got was red, the opposite side of blue on the color wheel; very telling of my relationship with Aja actually. 

Red: You see a world that is bettered by passion and individuality. You incorporate emotion and immediate action into your life. You probably have many of these qualities: Fun, Non-Judgemental, Emotional, Enthusiastic, Free-wheeling, Impulsive, Impatient.

Sure that works well, but I need to carry around this test for everyone that just doesn't know their color yet. If only it really was just a wheel we could spin. For now I am content with the question "Where are you from?" because it is an entrance to conversations in Spanish, about travel, or realizing we live just a town away from one another. Cheers! 

D.C. you've been so good to me

My awesome suitemate Angelica and me

I have been in D.C. now for two months and have not written one post yet! I would have liked to been taking note of everything for the past months, but a part of me sees a new benefit to waiting. I think I can speak more honestly on D.C. after being in the culture for two months. One thing's for sure that has been confirmed. We are sheeple- people sheep that are so influenced by our surroundings. The culture of D.C. is about working hard and playing hard. That, indeed, is what I have been up to. Long days and long nights, errands and happy hours, meetings and salsa clubs. No wonder I haven't taken time to write about it yet.

If I were to have written a post in the first two days here I would have said something like this:

People said it was hot in the summer here, but it's not so bad. I heard people on the East Coast were more cold and less friendly like sun-kissed Californians. The city seems really safe, even though I've been told otherwise. What do fireflies look like? Wow everything is free here! Now that I am out of school, I'm going to work out everyday.

I need to alter some of those statements two months in, but some reign true:

Sharing yummy sangria at Jazz in the Sculpture Garden

It is hot and humid here, but it comes in waves, with thunderstorm interludes that are actually more scary to me than the heat. People are people everywhere; you find some lollipops and some sourpusses. People are mostly so kind to me, but that could be because I'm obviously from out of town. The city has its sketchy side like any city; just the other day we walked by the scene of an armed robbery, so my guard has been raised. As an outsider we selectively choose to see what we want, but as time goes by the truth is inevitably revealed. The fireflies at dusk on the lawn outside of the White House are the most magical thing I've ever seen! They are like dancing fairies but only last for a split second and then they disappear forcing their audience to look at the big picture rather than one individual fairyfly. Sure, a lot of things are free here, but then you want to get a drink, and why not a pitcher? It all adds up indeed. Now that I'm working full-time, I have to choose to either be social or exercise after 5:30 P.M. Can you guess which option usually wins? I've successfully ran before going to work twice, which was quite a feat.

So far, the city and I get along quite well. Hey D.C. you've been so good to me, let's see what is in store for the rest of the adventure.

Gazpacho: as vibrant as love

Milagros, a good friend of mine in Spain, told me one time this summer while we were making gazpacho, "Just as gazpacho needs tomato first and foremost, a person needs love. The other things are supplementary". If you have tried great gazpacho, you would understand. Pura, the elderly nun living in Casa Don Bosco, would make the best gazpacho during the summer when we had tomatoes coming out of our ears, and pretty much every other part of our body. One time when the gazpacho turned out especially well, we joked with the rest of the household saying we added a little extra love in the gazpacho this time; when we were peeling the tomatos the knife may or may not had sliced something other than the tomato and added a bit extra redness in the gazpacho, a vibrant punch of love you might say.

We had a great laugh on that one, and I must say I felt the love with every sip of fresh gazpacho that hot, humid summer afternoon.