Life today

Life today was wonderful. I studied during the day, and danced in the early evening. How it reminded me of when I was in Namibia and even more, at University at Princeton. Today, by the way I met a Princeton University student at the University of Cape Town African dance class. The music of the drum and the dances from South Africa and Liberia (the one where I imagine myself imploring the heavens for mercy in this time of Ebola with my hands up to the sky above, wrists in a gesture of desperation).
I think I have come a long way since then.
I also enjoyed the talk I attended on the social determinants of health. I began a little bit of studying on my assignment for advanced epidemiology. And I will make it.
It has just been my research that I did not look at today. I guess I will spend at least half of tomorrow looking at it. Perhaps I should have easier aims - I should aim to write at least every other day, if not every day.

And I must have mercy on my body - the partial all nighter last time was merciless

This is it, I am doing my Masters in Public Healht

Passover 2015 continued

Reflection after my second ever Jewish Passover meal (the first being with a wonderful woman in Namibia in 2010, Lucy Steinitz and the second being at the last supper mass here at University of Cape Town, which was a seder):

I found out, to my surprise, that my classmate Cara Singer may not have been wrong at all in saying “you’re so Jewish!” when she found me frying Latkes, from a ready box mix, one evening in a kitchen we shared in Little hall during the summer after Junior year. I learnt this from my dad, when he paid a visit to Cape Town. No, I did not have a Everything is Illuminated Moment – my mother is Bulgarian, but she does not have any Jewish ancestors; her roots are in a village outside the big city of Plovdiv, outside of where a large number of Bulgarian Jews once lived. My father, is from rural Namibia and he is not from an ethnic group that, like the Lew of Zambia or Igbo of Nigeria, have a genetic fingerprint that matches the one the Kohanim of Europe have. It’s a bit simpler – my last name happens to actually mean “Wise man”. The literal translation from our language of Mulongeni into English would be “teach him”, but one should not translate the name this way, says my father. “Wise man” is a better translation. With that knowledge, I could call myself “Pancho Wiseman”. Now I see my participation in the second day of Passover in Cape Town as a homecoming of sorts.

During that Passover meal, I remember seeing that a certain Jarryd, whom I did find most handsome, had his gaze on me. Everyone gazed upon me when I stood there and read aloud in Spanish the questions a child would ask about the Passover. The young Rabbi read it in English and then he asked if anyone else knew another language – I chose Spanish because there was a young lady from Ecuador seated across from me “Why on all other nights we stand upright or we recline but on this night we only reclining?” was the one question I struggled to interpret, but looking at my Ecuadorian Hispanic friend smiling at me I managed, “?por qué en otras noches estamos derechos pero en está estamos casi tumbados” was my attempt. Later I read the Spanish version of the Gospel of John where the description of the last supper, where disciple leaning his head on Jesus’ chest uses the verb recostarse, a verb I did not  know during this Pesach. Yet Jarryd’s gaze was on me after this point in the seder – during a later blessing. When I looked at him, his eyes furtively looked away. It was only later that I found out he never meant to express desire. Still I wonder to this day, what he did mean with that stare.   

Passover meal 2015 in Spanish: My blog post.

I was fortunate enough, five years after my first Passover meal with Lucy Steinitz, to participate and eat at a synagogue. The place this time was Cape Town, with the students from the South African Society of Jewish students, They asked me to read in Spanish the questions posed by the child - why on this night do this, when on all other nights we do anything we please

The verb in Spanish I was missing was recostarse, to recline. I finally found it by reading the Gospel according to John, chapter 13, when the disciple who Jesus loved leaned on his bosom. Peter, for some reason, asked this disciple to let him know - and the others - who is the traitor of whom Jesus. ¿Quién era aquél de quien habalaba Jesús?

I think this is a very romantic part of the gospel - perhaps even homoerotic. 

At the seder, the order, the meal I took place tonight, there was amazing food, sining, dancing even (when we opened the door for Elijah to come in, the door of the building that also serves as the cultural center for Jewish muesuem - the Holocaust center where last year on the day before my birthday Rabbi Greg Alexander, Imam Hendriks and Catholic James Alexander talked about homosexuality and faith). I think I feel for one of the boys at the table.

As it turned out, at the end of the dinner I gave him a hug goodnight.

"Will I see you again?"

"Do I have your digits"he asked.

"No, take mine"

"Well I can't "he seemed to have his phone off.

So I took his number, Jared's number. Who knows what will happen. He leaves Thursday. 

Good night. Blessed Easter it is.

Simple Diary

Let me keep this short and simple. I am listening to Gershwins Rhapsody in Blue, I am about to go to bed. I am grateful for a number of this past Valentines day weekend.
Life, loving my friends and family. learning and loving the learning ( I read a great deal about variance yesterday).
And today, though I feel a bit lonely, I am grateful for the prayer I said very early in the morning. I woke up, prayed the Rosary at the place where I do my yoga - the 6th floor - by the window that looks to the mountain. I do still miss my grandfather who passed on the 14th of January, but over time it will heal.

My father called me today! We spoke over the phone. He even tried speaking in French with me "je bois du vin blanc, tu connais le vin traditionelle omagono?"he asked me before we continued in Bulgarian. His brother in law had passed on last week and the funeral was Friday.
Did I mention I am going to a church, which is Catholic and there is another Catholic gay man there! Incredible, and what's more, he even has a partner!
I have to still meet them.

Good night.

The bedrock of my life

This is a quick post to say, I have returned to blogging. For a very long period of time, in fact three quarters of a this year 2014, I did not even lay my eyes on this piece of cyberspace. Now, here I am blogging.

There are just two things I want to write about. First, I need to acknowledge how much I have engaged in self-loathing for much of the year. I did not accept myself as me, as Pancho, who is now single, gay, eccentric in so many ways. I felt that since I was single here in grad school, it must be that somehow there was something wrong with me. Now, I finally have come to understand I am a perfectly fine as a gay man, though I am different to so many of them, I am fine as a Catholic too and as a student as well. One day I will meet my beau and there will be sparks that will set my love alight. Till then, I just need to keep on praying and believing. As the journey song goes 'don't stop believin'. I remember clearly singing that in 2009, with my graduating class, on Blair arch steps in Princeton. Now I remember and it is so grand. Fills me with so much love.

The next thing is to remember is how a good meal is the bedrock of my day. It allows me to move from there to planning my day , in the morning, to doing my exercise, which I combine with prayer and all that I need in the day. And when the day is done, dinner brings me back to life. Need I not mention the fact I pray before I eat and the intimate connections I make with those who share meals with me.
I have become accustomed to reading and eating. Often, great ideas come to mind, but often it is just superfluous reading. I rather eat with someone else.

So here I am, after dinner, writing in my blog. Before dinner I felt so stressed, but now I feel renewed. Listening to that Journey song cover by "the Nerds", a present for my birthday in 2008 (I turned 22) in Princeton really helped me feel better.

Thank you Lord. I pray I can still keep this good feeling. When I feel sad, I will remember this.

Pancho

Christmas day,

Christmas day,
The biggest lesson I learnt today has been a deeper understanding into the story of Martha and Mary at Jesus' feet. I am now at my father's house with my younger brother. My dad's place is a house that is often dirty and this time my dad complained he found the kitchen really messy and a maggot infested dustbin, in spite of giving the key and the perks that come with having a house to oneself, to my 21 year old brother. My dad did his best cleaning, but unfortunately some things never change. "There is meat in the pot, just go ahead and warm it up" . And I proceeded to the kitchen, warmed the meat in the pot only to find a fly swimming in the stew. Closer inspection revealed the tell tale white clump of fly eggs just under the lid. So instead of preparing a meal I had to get ready to dispose of this meat, or at least save it for the dog. There was also a huge piece of pork in the microwave and dirty dishes in the sink (with the same tell tale eggs, flies in summer love kitchens in the Namibia summer). I ended up cleaning up. All the while my brother is watching Bob Marley videos and looking through my dad's old photos from our family life and his work trips in the 90s and his time in Bulgaria in the 70-80s. Ours is not a fairy tale, marriages happen and end, homes are build and they fall apart. Now my brother and I spend time with our parents at different occasions and thereby build two new home setups, though we live with our mom. So here my brother was being Mary Magdalen at Jesus' feet, while I was Marta, busy cleaning the kitchen.
I wanted to just drop everything and join in what they were doing but then I realizes the kitchen does need cleaning. The pictures and Bob Marley DVDs will not evaporate. I now realize when Jesus tells Marta that she should leave Mary alone because she chose the good part, he did not mean what Marta was doing was wrong. On the contrary it is good, the only thing is that Mary chose to spend quality time instead of fuss over the worldly things and that Mary's choice is just valid as Marta's and perhaps is more appropriate given Jesus' impending crucifixion.
My brother actually read this post and he asked "why am I Mary of Magdalene and why is Pancho Marta?"
He clearly does not know the story of Mary and Marta, one which my dad referred to as a long story and not one he would go into now, he preferred to share funny west african movie clips with my brother.
So go ahead and read the story of Mary and Martha of this is foreign to you.



Pancho

Holy Saturday 2013

Here I sit and write this as I wait for my shoushi at th
Falling in love with Jesus
Enamorarse de Jesúcristo
Tomorrow is easter in the Catholic Church.
I truly believe I will have to write about how I feel now. How do I feel about Jesus Christ? Do I still believe the only acceptable sexual fantasy is being with Him? I had a conversation about this already years in 2007ago with my friend Zach Marr and it seems he said he also agreed with me. Somehow last night i ended up bringing myself from 0 to 60 in just under a minute after I read through the EXIT a gay man's newspaper and it is not much different to the FHM for straight men and the feeling afterwards. I had my pink rosary in one hand ( and touching my body with the other) and somewhat desperately I asked the Lord to help me to stop, my heart was racing and then the point of no return. The guilt , the feeling of guilt and then the forgiveness that came after In read Psalm 32. I am grateful for the privilege of having this tension in my faith, this is indication that my basic essential needs are met and so I can dedicate mental energy to this process of spiritual self discovery.


Pancho