We're leaving early tomorrow morning, and as we prepare to leave this place, we are providing some reflections from the student's journals, so that you don't always hear the *official* word from Baja (assuming there is such a thing). Note the dates and places where the reflections were written as you read and enjoy what the students have to say.
From Jamie
I always had the same idea in reference to girls in make up. Make up for the most part is completely unnecessary. Sure some girls may suffer from bad acne you know the kind that plagues the rim of the brow, under the cheeks, and God forbid the wretched neck-nee. I will say that in the case of bad acne or severe burns of the face, neck and chest area make up should be used. At any other time make up is simply nothing more then a fence girls put up between them and the world, a wall that is dabbed and brushed on with small swift movements and opened mouths. For 20 or so days now my personal space has been completely invaded by a bunch of people, who’s typical wall of make up has been torn down and rebuilt with dirt and crystallized sweat. The pinks and blues and turned brown along with the fair porcelain that was once their skin. They, even I, look very different from those awkward and timid folks who first found themselves loading up the Yeti and Sasquatch (the vans) 20 or so days ago. Tonight we are going out to dinner. Some of the girls got together and “dolled” themselves up for the event, I even pulled a semi- clean shirt out of the bottom of my bag and put it on. I almost wanted to avoid putting on make up like the rest if the girls, the same way I have been avoiding collecting all the shells on the beach, myspace, and occasional weeping fits. But I too wiped away the dirt and replaced it with powdered paints and sparkles. I was sad to wash my hair and face, I became quite comfortable with my filth wall but it came down like in Berlin, sans David Hasselhof in an American flag jacket. I watched as the faces I had known transform. Despite my efforts I looked pretty much the same, but some of the girls really glowed. I was most amused by the faces of the three guys on the trip. These unfortunate fellows have been burdened by their inner gentlemen for the past 20 or so days; opening doors, falling last in the food line, and even being irated by the lewd gestures of their Mexican brethren. I watched as they looked at the painted faces of the girls, their eyes regretfully admitting, “they’re not so hideous after all.” I too watched as the make up walls were rebuilt and as each girl (myself included) awkwardly milled in and out of the rooms of the field station second guessing the reconstruction of their walls and questioning the foundations in which they stand. Do any of us really need make up? We have survived a 4,000-foot mountain, many a frightening car rides, and copious amounts of Coldplay all with out make up, yet we paint, brush, curl and crimp. Next week I will be days away from this star filled sky and Dr. Seuss-like vegetation, laying the bricks of my make up wall and remembering the bare, brown faces of these people, the unpolished beauty that each face encumbered. Yes, we are a different people. These 20 or so days have changed us from the rigid and feeble to the learned and humble, and the faces, made up or not, are no longer mere faces but friends.
January 20
VSFS
Bahia de los Angeles
From Bethany Laursen
As the trip nears it end, I’m getting more and more uncomfortable here; I miss showers, clean clothes, my coffee mug, and the internet. But I don’t know that it’s a good that I’m missing these things. For one thing, I can begin to become discontent with this place. For another thing, I don’t think that the internet is worth missing, because I just want it to fill some void of loneliness that it can’t fill. And, I like the return to simplicity marked by less clothing/fashion and water usage. Here, we celebrate the normally mundane occurrence of clean hair! What a simple joy! It seems to have straightened our priorities and sharpened our gratitude—we’re just thankful to have plenty of food, water, clothing, and shelter. So, when I really think about it, I’m not looking forward to selling my soul to be concerned about shallow things so that I can relate to my friends. That’s not to say that my friends are shallow, but they probably would not understand why taking shorter showers could ever be good for your soul. And, I don’t have to take luxury for granted, but it will certainly be difficult without 23 other people helping me consume less.
January 16
4:48 pm
VSFS
Bahia de los Angeles
From Libby Stokes
The wind moves like the rain, in waves. The water’s surface is mottled and pushed. It is darkened by each passing exhale from the sky. The air, even in its invisibility, can carry. It can hold a grain of sand, a crying gull, an expanse of cloud. The wind’s hands, like God, are mighty enough for the clouds, and gentle enough for a feather.
The wind has no voice. We only hear what things say about the wind. The trees hum to a gentle “ffffffff.” The rafters whistle and creak. Even when we turn our heads into the wind, our ears find works in its silent moving.
January 15 (during “solitude and silence” time)
VSFS
Bahia de los Angeles
From Sunny Ware
We plop down in fron of the “Mision de Santa Rosalia de Mulege,” three of us armed with pens and iPods. We don’t talk to each other. We slip into our own world complete with soundtracks. I notice how odd this really is when the 80s classic, “Love Shack” comes on. How can three little, white, American girls sit in front of this holy place in this manner? Does it defile it? What does the space become when a group of 20 of us come in talking, snapping photos, and turning it into a classroom/tourist sopt? Can it be holy and profane?
January 12
Mulege
From Sarah Concannon
Discover
Each morning I awake to the
sound of something new.
Is it the ocean or a bird or
a date falling through the dew?
So much to experience today but
where should I start?
Well, a bird walk with Rafe
may produce the sighting of a lark.
Going much deeper we discuss the
issues at hand.
How can we change the way we
see this vast land?
Looking through eyes as we did
as a child.
Colors and shapes jump out that
are far beyond mild
Into the vans we pile once more
off to discover cuz that’s what
we’re here for.
January 10
El Coyote, Bahia de Concepcion
