Juan Iluminado

Morning

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Wed, 18 Feb 2015 13:16:00 +0000

Morning. Good morning to you my day. My today.

Today, I listen and with an open heart I read the sentences in front of me

Sentences telling me one story

Hurting the open heart, and wondering about today

Continuation of a constant battle for who we are and our color

Skin and eyes, hair and curves keep telling us how different we are

Many simply hates those facts, and close door

The sign reads “CLOSED”

But, it’s time to turn the ugly page.

Their ugly page.

Let me tell you this, today and tomorrow we’ll be here with our colors, and whittles, and cantos y bailes

In front of bodegas and corners of the ghettos

Our space can be seeing in the space

Have no doubt, and it looks beautiful, but, also feels hurt

The page about today writes songs, and actions toward spaces and corner full of us

The blacks and browns, yellows and pinks, because we are

Numbers continue to climb. Every day, and every night

Good weather and bad weather, we continue our climbing

Stepping up latters, opening the doors of cages, writing simple notes to say

We are here.

There is no place to go, or wanting to go, but here with you

In front of you, next to you, touching you, smelling you and enjoying you, because you are, I am, and we are.

One, 2, 3, 4 and like the numbers, infinite and not going anywhere

Today, another page we write together for those here who are not here

We know who they are.

The brothers, the sisters behind bars, inside cages we have created and encouraged to fill in with you and I

Let us be. Sincerely. Let us be.

POEMA A LA MUERTA?

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Sun, 25 Jan 2015 15:57:00 +0000

La muerta esta. Si, porque asumo y lo escribo como la muerta.

Lo hago para liberarme, no para perdonar

Liberarme del peso y del llanto, del dolor y de la miseria que causastes

A nadie se hablo…se dijo palabra, porque solo era un Nino

Virginia cuanto dolor espero hayas sufrido

Muerta debes estar, como muerto me senti cuando era Nino, y solo queria ser Yo

La tierra esta ofendida, de tener de acobijarte

De recibirte, de alimentarte, de vivir para destruir

Lo unico que mereces, La Nada.

Aunque la nada ya seria algo.

El nino que buscaba guia, y aprendizaje, seguridad y amor

Solo encontro la burla de la maestra

Si, la maestra.

La que enfrente se paraba y decia

y sabia, y decia que sabia, y tenia la ultima palabra,

Pero tambien tenia la ultima ofensa. La ultima burla.

Afeminado, mariquita, “hablando como ninita”, asi solia decir-me

No puedo perdornar, y si quiero verte muerta, buscando asi una redempcion

Para mi mismo, y quizas, para muchos otros.

Lo escribo, lo escribo y lo escribo, porque me ha tomado 48 anios para decirte a voz alta y sin miedo a decirlo

Espero que estes muerta y que hayas sufrido como me hicistes sufrir.

Y si no lo estas, espero que tu vida sea de miseria y miedos, tristezas y maldiciones.

Su nombre fue Virginia Urdaneta. Mi maestro de 6to grado en el Instituto Educational Negra Matea.

No creo ni en Dios ni en el Diablo, asi que no puedo esperar que este en el cielo o el infierno.

Pero si que seas nada

Set, ready, go!!! The competition is ON

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 20 Jan 2015 13:10:00 +0000

Competition. Uhm, who doesn’t like competition? And, whether it is to get the win, or to say that the “important thing is to compete”, which I agree, it could be fun and challenging to compete and see what happens more than who wins all.

We already know that technically in a competition someone has to win, and someone has to lose. Now, what about from a resolution for 2015 to a competition between 2 very good friends? In this case, it is going to take 12 months to “declare the winner”. I’m sure there are going to be more than one winner in this competition.

Everything started with me spending my New Year in Bogota, Colombia and celebrating with family. I asked to ask everyone to share a resolution for the New Year 2015. In circle we went through one by one, and when it was my turn, I simply say that I wanted to read 1 book per month and to write 23 pages of something. Why 23 pages? Well, I am going to celebrate 23 years of living in the USA. Not the greatest country in the world, but yes, the GREATEST country to me, and for me. I will write about that another time.

Next thing, I am writing “one of my pages” as an email to my family and my best friend in the world. There, I reclaimed my resolution of 2015: 1 book per month and 23 pages of writing.

My dear and adorable Maryalejandra (best friend) said that she loved my resolution, and she was to copycat the resolution, and talk-discuss-chat-debate about the books we read. And, she also mentioned that it is also the same resolution of Mark Zuckerberg (he doesn’t need introduction), to read 1 book per month, and that the first book he picked (now, this sounds like Oprah’s book club) was “El Fin del Poder” (The End of Power) by Moises Naim, a Venezuelan author. We’re originally from Venezuela, so it was kind of interesting to hear Zuckerberg picking up this book. (I think I like him a little bit more now. No that he cares anyway).

But, back to the competition and the resolution…this is going to be a great competition where I hope to keep “bringing” one book to the table by the end of the month and to have some fun enjoying the “tertutlia” (a “classic” and special Spanish word for conversation) about the books.

The competition has begun, and I’m going to finish reading the wonderful book “The New Jim Crow” by Michelle Alexander for the month of January. Although, it is focused in the USA judicial system, it got universal value, and certainly, people like my friend Maryalejandra will appreciate the discussion.

I got to be honest, and now this is related to my other resolution: writing 23 pages. I said in my email to my family and Maryalejandra that I’m going to write in Spanish and English (since I “dominate” both languages), and now, I’m realizing that the challenge of continuing writing in English is making me a winner, because, it is not my first language, but I love writing, and expressing myself in my second language that I keep listening, exploring, reading and enjoying passionately.

Now, this is the end of this page. Yes!!!

How many more to go? I can’t remember, but I’ll be sure to save it in my January 2015 folder. ;-)

Entre resoluciones y dias de Enero.

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 20 Jan 2015 13:06:00 +0000

De verdad que me pongo a pensar y pensar y pensar en la resolucion del anio 2015 que conversamos en la casa de Miguel.

Hoy fue un dia particular porque lo cierto es que sigo pensando en tantas cosas de las cuales escribir, y sin embargo, no sentarme a escribir. Pensar y pensar y pensar y nunca escribir (Bueno no nunca, obviamente).

La resolucion, por si acaso algunos no lo saben, es leer por lo menos 1 libro cada mes y escribir 23 paginas de algo. Por que 23? Sencillamente porque este anio cumplo 23 anios de vivir aqui en los Estados Unidos. Casi ya, la mitad de mi vida la he vivido en este pais, que por cierto no es tan perfecto como Yo pensaba cuando era pequeno, adolescente o mis primeros anios de adultez. Por cierto adultez es con Z o con S? No me acuerdo, y a veces me pregunto si el Espanol se esta yendo. (Yendo si lo escribe bien)

Lo cierto es que me pregunto “que escribo, que escribo, que escribo????” Como si no hubiera nada de que escribir, o como si hubiera mucho. Y lo cierto es que puedo escribir acerca de la nada, y tambien de lo mucho que tengo. Desde salud hasta optimismo…ideas y sonrisas, amigos y amigas, familia y familio (Ah no, no hay cosa tal como “familio”)

Al final me doy cuenta de que me estoy saboteando. Manana. “Si, manana lo hago. Mannaa si me pongo a escribir”, me digo. Y lo cierto es que mi resolucion es muy concreta y facil de alcanzar, pero solo necesito decidirme a hacerlo con intencion y energia, passion y amor. Punto.

El dia de hoy fue peculiar…y no estoy seguro si la palabra peculiar es la “mejor” palabra a usar. Pero he aqui lo sucedido: Primero escuche un CD de Ana Torroja (se acuerdan de ella? Mecano), y sencillamente me “eleve” especialmente con una cancion que dice algo asi,

Y ahora tiene una hoja en blanco

Y espera una cancion

Y veinte Mariposas

en el Corazon…

Caminando a la oficina no pude evitar caminar y dejar mi brazos navegar con el pensamiento de tener una hoja en blanco, esperando que una “cancion” me baje de alguna parte, pero quizas, sobre todo, de mi Corazon.

Pense en La Negra. Cuanto a ella le gustaba Mecano, y quizas diciendome, “escribe”.

Despues durante el dia recibi la “visita” de mi querida Maryalejandra. Sus visitas para mi son oxigeno puro que me llenan con la gracia y la dicha de ser Yo mas que nunca. De que hablamos? De cualquier cosa, y de todas las cosas, pero siempre con temas diferentes. Inspiracion pura, para escribir mas, porque a veces las conversaciones mas frivolas pueden ser las mas reveladoras de quienes somos.

Cuando hablaba con La Gorda (esta gorda es Maryalejandra, no La Gordita Joselyn, asi que de ahora en adelante sera la manera en que las puedo diferenciar a una con la otra, La Gorda y La Gordita), le comente algo que le dije a mi querido amigo Marc, “Yo no quiero estar en el ‘What’sup’ porque no quiero estar conectado con todo el mundo. No necesito estar conectado con todo el mundo, y creo que no quiero estar conectado con todo el mundo, porque con quienes quiero estar conectado ya tengo un email, o el numero telefonico de la casa o el celular.”

Es cierto, no quiero ni necesito estar en contacto con todos, o todo el tiempo, pero si quiero estar. Una vez, o dos veces o cuantas veces quiera al mes, pero cuando lo quiera, porque quiero disfrutar de cada minute de mi vida con quienes quiero, adoro, amo. No todo el tiempo, pero si, por un tiempo que pueden 10 minutos, 10 horas, 10 dias, y ahora, sobre todo, quiero compartir parte de mi resolucion, porque 23 paginas de escrituras pueden ser muchas o no, pero entre Ingles y Espanol tengo mas opciones. Verdad?

Siento que no puedo dejar que el saboteo a mi mismo me detenga de alcanzar algo tan concreto como escribir 23 paginas al mes y leer (que goce) un libro por mes. Veremos.

Estoy creando ahora mismo el “file/archivo” de Enero/January donde guadare/save estas 23 paginas del mes.

Estas son las primeras 2. Casi dos…una y media.

Following Up on American Airlines

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Sat, 17 Jan 2015 18:50:00 +0000

Sometimes you give up on certain things. But, I’m not there yet with American Airlines and its lack of empathy towards the customers: You, she, he, we, and I. All of us limited to what they say and we have to take it quietly.

This is a follow up of a recent complaint I sent to American Airlines about my recent trip to Bogota, Colombia, and specifically my flight back from Bogota to Miami (flight AA 916) on Tuesday January 6, 2015.

Here is the response I received this week from a gentleman named Richard Urby of the “Customer Relations” department at American Airlines.

“January 15, 2015

Dear Mr. Pinedo:

On behalf of American Airlines and US Airways, thank you for contacting us. Your comfort is important to us, and we are sorry the reading light and call button didn't work on your recent flight. I have documented your concern and reported the issue to our Maintenance Department so the issue can be addressed. I am sorry for the frustration and inconvenience this caused. I am not able to honor your request for compensation for this type of situation. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. We hope to have the opportunity to welcome you aboard again soon.

Sincerely,

Richard Urby
Customer Relations
American Airlines” And here is my response to Mr. Urby, which by the way, I’m still waiting how he is going to address it. Dear Richard, Thanks for your email, but I'm terribly upset with your very plain "I am not able to honor your request for compensation for this type of situation." How dare! I did pay a full price for the ticket, and American Airlines did not provide the service promised when I bought it. Do you understand that? I paid ($1,00.00) for a round trip ticket to take me from point A to pint B but that also included amenities like reading over head lights, and, they did not work. Misleading type of situation, in my opinion. So, please don't tell me that you can't reward me with, let's say, 5,000 miles for this inconvenience. Because, yes, it was an inconvenience and American Airlines must fix it. Richard, if you can't honor my request (only miles, no money back), well, you find somebody who can do it, because I'm sure there is someone at American Airlines who can do it. I honor my clients when I make a mistake. That's not only good business; it is a matter of real “honor" your loyal customer. Not just empty verbiage you're giving me. I'm certainly going to post your response as part as my next blog and my next Twitter update, because it is wrong Mr. Urby. Very wrong. I really hope the next time you communicate with me or any your customer you are kinder, and have more empathy, because right now it seems that you and American Airlines lack of it. Sincerely, Juan Carlos Pinedo We’ll see what American Airlines has to say. Big corporations are treating us (the customer) like trash, without respect and consideration, empathy or sympathy, and simply taking our money and they do not take any responsibilities for their actions when they fail to deliver the services and/or product they promote and sale. We must complain LOUDLY when we DO NOT RECEIVE what we pay for it, and we should receive a reward for the trouble they cause on us.

Need to ask in order to get something back. I hope AA (American Airlines).

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Mon, 12 Jan 2015 03:47:00 +0000

Finally I can seat down and write about this experience.

January 6, 2015. Aeropuerto Internacional El Dorado in Bogota, Colombia. American Airlines flight # 916 leaving Bogota at around 3 pm arriving in Miami, FL at around 6:30 pm.

The aircraft for this particular flight is a Boeing 767-300 which is wide-body type of aircraft. A lot of people in that flight. Actually, I’d think the flight was completely sold out: First Class, Business Class and, of course, the one I can afford, Coach class (Economy as airlines call them), and for almost $1,000.00 I got my round-trip ticket from Boston to Bogota to spend the New Year with my family.

Anyway, a thousand dollars that takes you from point A to point C (because there is a point B called Miami in between), which includes free meal (dinner) for the international portions of the trip, but also includes 2 free bags that you can check, free water, sodas, juices, and coffee, a free movie. Also, you can use the lavatories for free (don’t use the ones located in the first class section), and finally, if you don’t like any of those “amenities”, you still can turn on the reading light over your head, pull out your issue of “The Atlantic” from your carry on (free, of course…although I paid $ 1,000 round-trip ticket) or the newest novel from Paulo Coelho you bought in Bogota, and enjoy your flight (over 3 hours) by reading great writing.

Then, I tried to turn the reading light once, twice, 3 times, 4 times, 5 times, until I realized the try were not doing anything. So, I called the flight-attendant by pressing the “call flight-attendant) button and nothing happened. And, guess what? The button wasn’t working either.

I decided to get up and ask for assistance. Ultimately, the captain said something like this “please, do not hesitate to ask anything in order to make your flight more pleasant and enjoyable.”

So, I asked to have the reading light worked, ON, illuminating my magazine and book.

The crew was surprised. “Isn’t the reading light working?” one of the flight attendants said to me, as I am going to leave my seat, go to the back of the airplane and interrupt their dinner and chatting to ask for something that should be working in the first place.

After waiting for about 30 minutes, and basically having to call the flight attendants several times, they finally came over my seat (31 C), and first, they tried to turn the reading light on (maybe because they thought I was lying), then “reset”, and “reset” again (the captain supposedly did it), and nothing worked. The middle section of this wide-body Boeing 767-300 wasn’t working properly, and still, American Airlines deployed this aircraft to provide “a full service” flight from Bogota to Miami.

I can only afford an economy class ticket (I call it Coach), but this price ($1,000.00) included having the overhead reading light worked properly, so I could enjoy my book and magazine. The airline must provide this. Otherwise, give me some credit, or give me some extra miles for this inconvenience.

And now, this is the part where I am going to publicly and LOUDLY ask American Airlines to give me something for this failed service/feature/commodity/amenity on my flight AA 916 from Bogota to Miami on Tuesday January 6, 2015.

I want to receive a credit, or a few thousand miles for your incompetency to deliver what you promised, and I hope you do reward my unpleasant experience on this flight. We are your customer, and we’re paying good money for the airfare ticket.

The industry is finally making money by charging us (the consumer) anything they can, and we deserve some kind of reward when you fail to provide the service you promise.

My name is Juan Carlos Pinedo and I really hope to hear from you, American Airlines, and to know that you care about small details and your consumers. Of course, this note I will post as part of my blog, and Twitter, because I believe the more we demand the more we’ll get back when you fail to deliver, and the better servercie we will receive.

Sincerely,

Juan Carlos Pinedo

What about Christmas? What about Facebook? What about friends? What about 2014?

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Sat, 20 Dec 2014 14:29:00 +0000

Another Christmas party. Another celebration of family and friends? I suppose, although I remember last year I told my partner Shaun I didn’t want to have the party. I said, ‘it is too much work, and by the end, I feel that I don’t enjoy anything”. But, by the end, it was a great celebration.

This year, again, we’re going to have a Christmas party. Today. One good thing about this year is the fact that not many friends and family are coming, and I believe that is already a plus.

Now, is that fact a sign of good love or bad love? There is such thing as bad love? Maybe in the Mexican and Venezuelan soap operas.

I think about this year, and I have seen, lived a great year in every possible angle. However, I must admit that one “good thing” was the bad depression I went through in May and June, and how the words of my very dear friend Marc made disappear from Facebook.

Since the moment I left the popular “social network”, I have not missed an update, photograph, or “news” presented as the greatest event at every second of existence.

I haven’t missed any of my 450 “friends”, and I had about 500 by the time I quitted. Of course, it forced me to stay in touch with the real 50 that means something to me. My real friends and my real love ones.

I said “quitted”, because Facebook slowly and smoothly became a bad drug. Like crystal meth or cocaine interrupted my life for a good time, Facebook was doing the same exact thing to me, and giving me nothing in return, except very temporary rush of importance, happiness and “celebrity status” completely fake for most people, and completely fake to me.

From the moment I quitted Facebook, I felt I regained control of my life, by being more productive at work, facing my demons in my personal life and relationship, and now, being able to say that I am living and feeling a great rush. Through the year, I have lived constant rushes coming from every angle of my existence, and it feels…real. I’m accomplishing things for myself and for others, and ultimately, trying to get into the group Mark Twain said to be part of, “There are basically two types of people. People who accomplish things, and people who claim to have accomplished things. The first group is less crowded.

Christmas party is tonight, and I will live another time to remember, and to be part of the year 2014. One of the greatest years in my life.

My beautiful city, Boston, cleaner and cleaner.

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Sun, 06 Jul 2014 16:00:00 +0000

Recently I realized that walking our dogs can't be just an important and "meaningful" duty for us and for Lola and Mystere (our dogs). What about our city? Boston.

I certainly decided that every time I take them out, I go out with keys, poopy bags, and a BIG bag to collect some of the garbage we see on sidewalks, the streets and little playground we go to.

This is not time to judge people who rather to trash our beautiful city instead of keeping it clean and amazing for everyone.

This time is to think and take action about the things we do, and the things we don't.

If I have to take the "girls" (they are sisters) out every 4 or 5 hours, why to take some of the trash off the street and sidewalks from our neighborhood, and certainly keep "killing 2 birds with 1 stone".
Since we moved to South Boston, we have seen changes, before there're a lot of puppies and dogs shits on sidewalks, streets and parks, but people are making the right choices. Curb your dog shit.
Now, let's broad this duty to something Southie needs very bad, getting our streets cleaner, having beautiful sidewalks where everyone would enjoy a nice walk on a summer night or morning.

That's why I also encourage our neighbors to keep their sidewalks clean. It doesn't take that long, and call people of their shit if they trash our city.

It is not that difficult, and you will see how rewarding this is.

Let me take Lola and Mystere out. Again. They are enjoying the Summer time.

Mi gran amiga

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Sat, 05 Jul 2014 18:27:00 +0000

Del telefono al blog. Asi es como describo esta nota.

Ayer, y como siempre, la dicha y el disfrute de hablar con tu mejor amiga (y amigo de hecho) es una gran celebracion del 4 de Julio, Dia de la Independencia de los Estados Unidos, pais donde vivo. Happy USA Day!

El telefono, de hecho, se transformo en imagen y semejanza de nuestras caras, porque a traves de Skype conjugamos la senal telefonica en caras, en risas y sonrisas, un cocktail a larga distancia y el saber que contamos el uno con el otro.

Maryalejandra esta en Venezuela, y de ello, ni hablamos mucho, porque nuestro pais sigue siendo "dirigido" por seres humanos de la peor calidad: Corruptos, Asesinos, Torturadores, y cobardes Militares que solo se prestan a sus propios intereses, y no a un pueblo en necesidad.

Volvemos a nuestra charla y sabemos que hay futuro. Planes por cumplir y suenos por alcanzar.
Nadie para a una mujer (Maryalejandra) capaz de llevar a su familia a mejores vivencias, y a dar de si, lo mejor.

Desde aqui, espero que ella emprenda un viaje por todo el mundo, porque a traves de un Blog, le dije que ella puede hacerse conocer aun mas. Es Madre, es Profesora universitaria, es Esposa, Hija y Hermana, y una gran amiga.

Gorda, hay que emprender este viaje por este mundo plano, y escribir y gritar y dibujar, y cantar las experiencias y sabiduria que tienes, porque no sabes a quienes mas puedas ayudar con tu entusiasmo y passion, luchas y ensenanzas, risas y sonrisas, y el Corazon que tienes.

Y de final, solo te doy gracias por ser mi amiga.

I haven't had.

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 07 Jan 2014 23:23:00 +0000

I haven’t had the time but just to breathe

To sleep, to think, sometimes.

I haven’t had the chance, but to sit and watch
And wonder and read a little bit.
I haven’t had the chance to play
And love them back, I need to love myself, hoping it will help.
I haven’t had the chance but to write
To a good friend, my doctor, and ask, what do I do?
I haven’t had the chance but to see each other,
And pray for him to get better.
I haven’t had the chance but to deal with the Flu,
The beginning of a new year with pain, no energy, and feeling like shit.
Tried to be poetic, but at the end, feeling like shit didn’t help me.

In the name of my Russian LGBT brothers and sisters

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Fri, 26 Jul 2013 14:09:00 +0000

I am trying to understand why some people simply can not love each other, or just can’t tolerate one to another. Is it that hard to open your heart and soul?

Russia, or I should probably say the evil (one of many in this world dominated by 1%) President Vladimir Putin and his government is dedicating time, effort, money, laws, and anything in his power to ban, and somehow, to destroy the Russian LGBT community.

Putin and his oppressive government is successfully crashing the gays, lesbians, transgender, bisexuals and straight allies in Russia, by persecuting, jailing, hurting, punishing human beings, and human rights of course, because they are homosexuals. One step back, and one step back, and one step back and the country continues to go back to the time of Stalin.

I don’t want to write a long note, maybe even this note will get lost in the mass media, but I just simply want to say how much I hate a “leader” who is not only hurting the LGBT community of the world, but we know, he and his oppressive and repressive government is hurting his own people. He is part of the 1% that not only applies to the USA, but also to a whole world dominated by a 1%.

I don’t know if the 99% of us, yes the rest of us, will accomplish something in our life time, but let me write this to let him know, that I hope someday, someday, his own people will wake up and tell him enough is enough and punish him for his action against humanity.

We do want to love every human being on Earth, gay or straight, black or white, man or woman, and yes, it will happen and non-oppressive leader like him will stop what the rest of us feel, need and want to.

Forgiveness

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Fri, 30 Nov 2012 16:03:00 +0000

The cold that I feel in my hand is nothing compare to the coldness I feel inside

My soul is shaking in fears and my heart is disappointed

I keep wondering about salvation and the path that no one takes, or very few.

Questions continue to bother.

Yes, to bother. I don’t want answers, I just want to be. Simply to be. Happily to be.

Now, I don’t lie when I say that I want to be a dog in my next life, or at least, my dogs.

I don’t see pain in them. It’s joy and playfulness, and jumps and runs what I see.

Human beings. We are complicated, I am complicated. I am miserable, at least right now.

Forgiveness, forgiveness. Long word when I write it in English. Do I feel it?

No, I don’t.

Writing is alleviating the pain.

Forgiveness.

Page 3 of 20 pages, from 20 years of living in the USA

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 14:17:00 +0000

The stories about living in San Francisco, my beloved San Francisco are about my living in the United States for the past 20 years, and here I am continuing to tell you how I have survived, and made it.

In 1992, I started volunteering at Project Open Hand. This wonderful organization provides meals (dinner) and groceries for people living with HIV and Aids. It was the perfect opportunity to give to my community, not only the gay community, but the San Francisco community of men, women and children living with HIV and Aids.

After a few months of driving, actually of being the co-pilot for the driver, many of whom I became friends with, I landed my first good job in the States, there, at Project Open Hand as a driver. I was going to drive and deliver meals 4 days a week. I was going to drive one of its vans, and I had to go and get my driver’s license. There wasn’t much time since they need a driver.

We had volunteers, but there were days when we did not have enough of them, and we still had to deliver the hot meal to our clients.

Well, here I was landing a job that provided me a decent salary, and health insurance, but most importantly, it provided with an experience that helped me to love San Francisco, to work with talented people, to meet wonderful human beings, and to discover every shortcut and street of city by the Bay.

By then, there was not GPS, so I had to carry with me the Thomas Moore roadmaps, and learn the one way streets, the 2 ways streets and the major intersections of San Francisco. It taught me to locate the Tenderloin, the Mission, Golden Gate Park, Hunters Point, Pacific Heights and the Marina. I learned where to park, I learned where not to park. The hills of Potrero Hill and Nob hill, the long avenues in the outer Sunset and the Richmond area. And, of course, many of the Projects. I couldn’t ask for a better way to learn about San Francisco, but by driving around, delivering meals, and meeting some peculiar and interesting human beings.

Coming from Maracaibo, Venezuela, I had never been before a neighborhood like the tenderloin and its hotels. Trust me, in Maracaibo, we have singular neighborhoods, full with characters of their own, but nothing like the tenderloin in San Francisco. In the hotels –those that carry sign saying daily, weekly and monthly rates- I experienced a lot of things. Most of them made me laugh and appreciate life for what it is, a present moment teaching you something about people, things, and yourself.

Each visit to those hotels involved meeting new people every time I went there, but also seeing familiar faces that learned and remembered my name quickly. I got compliments (hello handsome!!!) from many clients, but once in a while, I went through scary moments and situation. The typical fights, the exchange of “things” I did not expect to see, the tragedy happening to an individual.

In these hotels, I saw for the first time the type of elevator you have to close the door yourself. I don’t know how you call it, but the ride was always an experience. A wondering experience, thinking if I was going to make it to my destination. Oh, those old days in San Francisco.

I worked from 1 to 9, Friday through Monday. My days off right in the middle of the week, but it didn’t matter to me. I was happy, and really for the first couple of years it fulfilled with the security I needed, especially the financial security, so I could pay my rent, food, tuition since I was enrolled in San Francisco City College to learn English as second language. I was 24 and eager to learn. Learning was a great motive for me to wake up every morning and tell myself, “You can make it. Just keep doing what you’re doing”.

I worked at Project Open Hand for 2 and half years. Project Open Hand meant to me my first San Francisco Gay Pride Parade, my first Thanksgiving celebration, Halloween, Christmas. The names of Hilda, Fernando, Nestor, Kathleen, David, Chuck, Paul were part of the family. They gave a hand when I needed, and they helped me to enjoy every minute working there. There, I met an especial friend Richard Rapoza, a brilliant and very talented man from Nicaragua. So many laughs, chats and great moments with him.

Two and half years driving the streets of San Francisco, delivering meals, that for so many, it meant the only meal they had every day.

From July 1992 until December 1994 I was part of the team at Project Open Hand. My first good job in San Francisco and one the most important learning experiences I have had in this country. I never would have imagined that I was going to drive a big van and deliver meals for people living with HIV and Aids in San Francisco, California 6 months earlier when I was running the Los Angeles Marathon. Never.

Princess Kate's Tits

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 18 Sep 2012 12:45:00 +0000

These “royal” people of Great Britain are being a pain in the ass. They are trying to block all the pictures that expose Princess Kate’s tits. Oh, let me be more politically correct, Kate’s breast.

They really think they are not human beings, or a person. Yes, a person who got hair, ears, a nose, two eyes, and yes, tits…tits….tits…Tetas in Espanol.

If they would stop trying to be this out of Universe persona, they probably could have and live a better life, at least, in terms of the Paparazzis following them everywhere for a pick of anything that is worth it a few thousands Euros.

I mean, I am sure she got beautiful breast (good boy!!!!) but I am sure nothing we haven’t seen before. I am sure we have seen more beautiful pair of tits, and we even enjoy the ugly ones, simply, because we are fascinating about naked bodies whether they are from the future Queen of England, or, the woman next door who happens to be a cashier at my local Supermarket.

They are noble people; they do great things for humanity. I personally admired Princess Diana, because of the things she did and stud up for. Now, keep doing that which by the end of the day is what people and humanity is going to remember you for. Not the breast of Princess Kate.

...and I have to say...

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 19:30:00 +0000

Such a single word with deep meaning, lost faces, with nothing to celebrate.
Such a “single” word full and capable of stopping whatever you do and live for,
I want to erase it from the heart, the soul, the Universe
It’s too powerful, and the inspiration for many things
Including great stories, “happy” stories, love stories, victories…by the end.
But, let’s use the downside of the word to emerge, and to do the best, and to show the world we can.
Sad is the word. Powerful word, hard to defeat, but not in our case, not in my case.
I am great, because I got what it is needed to survive, and to create, and to build, to dream, to sing and dance, to celebrate, to love.

Step by Step my Lucky Day

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Thu, 03 May 2012 15:03:00 +0000

And, I am ready

Step by step I am on my way, and it has been a while since I walk

Since I walk to my destination, a daily destination

Step by step and finding a penny, lucky penny, lucky day
But it is a gray day, an overcast day
I feel the moist landing on my face, and still, a lucky day
Through the streets of my neighborhood, garbage on the streets, on the sidewalks, everywhere
Sad picture, but still a lucky day.
Step by step I continue, and then I turn
In front of me a girl in black,
Few steps ahead of me, I guess closer to her destination
I get closer to her, and I feel we are disconnected, but she is connected
Looking at the little screen, and the screen delivers something.
Important I guess.
I passed, but before, a handsome man running toward us seems to be in a hurry
Maybe his lucky day, or simply another day, or another busy day of running and being late.
I don’t know, but, wonder because he was a handsome man.
For some reason, there is pain in my leg,
And, I feel it,
It is not the first time, it is already an old time
The walk continues, step by step I get closer to my destination
To my lucky day, designed by a penny
Designed by me.
I arrived, and I wrote this for you, my dear life

Page 2 of 20 pages, from 20 years living in the USA

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 24 Apr 2012 18:28:00 +0000

Y.M.C.A is an organization, but it is also a popular song that brings together different generations to dance and enjoy the days of the Village People. Now, the Y.M.C.A in the tenderloin in San Francisco was a place where I stayed for a few nights when I arrived to the city. And, it represents one of the pages of my 20 years living in the USA, and this is why.

The first days and nights in San Francisco meant to stay in places I could afford, and the YMCA opened its door with clean, safe and comfortable rooms to stay. At least, that was my experience. The YMCA is located at Golden Gate Avenue and Hyde Street in San Francisco, and, whoever lives or has lived in the city knows that this is a very “interesting” area, and I had just arrived there.

At night, I will hear things, and during the day, I will see them closely, and I knew that I was in the right place at the right time. I knew I was in the city I always wanted to be, where simply, I could be myself.

Anyway, the YMCA opened its facilities to work out and to get involved as a volunteer. Did you know that I used to teach Aerobics classes back in Venezuela? Yes, I did, and as a volunteer at the YMCA in the tenderloin in San Francisco I had the chance, after taking introductory classes, to become an Aerobics instructor there.

What a fun time, because I loved teaching classes in Venezuela, and I was good at it. I don’t know if it was the music, my movements, the energy I brought to the class, the people who attended my classes, the warm/hot weather in Venezuela, the salsa music or the merengue music, or the old pop music from the 80’s. The fact that I brought that legacy with me to the States helped me to become an Aerobics instructor at the YMCA in the tenderloin of San Francisco, and give it to some wonderful people who took a chance with my classes, and my English of basically 5 words: Yes, No, Hello, Thank you and Please.

This experience put in contact, in touch with 2 men who became great friends, and to these days, they are people that I admire, respect and love. First, I met Robert “Bobby” Baxter who was the first man I got involved with. We were together for about 3 months. Bobby opened his home to me in the Castro to stay with him for a while. I was right in the middle of the Castro, 18^th street and Castro Street above the Walgreens. So, I went from the Tenderloin to the Castro in San Francisco. I am telling you, I was living in the right places at the right times.

At the YMCA I also met Robert Scott. One of the most amazing, energetic, fun Aerobics instructors I have ever experienced. Just watching him teaching a class was fun, but even more fun than that, it was taking his classes. Oh my God!!!!

Robert has charm that flows all over. He got a voice that “hypnotizes” you. His smile illuminates a room, and…and…he speaks Spanish. These are just a few things I want to say about him…but mostly, he is one good man that gave me his friendship, taught me about teaching at the Y (as we called it) and, I value his friendship as one golden treasure.

I keep traveling back and for through my memories, my index of cards and notes of 20 years living in the United States. I write about it, and this is only page 2 of the 20 pages. I may not be writing the greatest pieces in Literature, but I am writing honest and heartfelt stories of a man who arrived to the States when he was 24 years old (24 ½ actually), because I want to honor so many family members and friends, who have become my family here in this beautiful country…my home country now. They helped me and they keep helping to reach my dreams and to enjoy my life as Juan Carlos Pinedo Rivera.

I want to end this page #2 by thanking to my beloved little brother Miguel for pushing me to write the second chapter. He got so excited and happy with the first one that he asked me, the last time we talked over the phone, “when are you going to write the next pages of your 20 years living in the United States?”

Ok Migue, this one, was also for you.

I love you all.

Juancho

Page 1 of 20 pages from 20 years living in the USA

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 15:57:00 +0000

My best friend in this world Maryalejandra Montiel, Zuliana de Aviacion, American Airlines, LAX, the City of Los Angeles, the mountains of the Sierra in California, Greyhound buses, the Muni buses in San Francisco, Market Street, the Castro neighborhood, they are all part of my first living year in the states.

My friend Maryalejandra drove me to the Aeropuerto Internacional de La Chinita in Maracaibo, where I am from. Our way to the airport was filled with talk about dreams, and the intense desire of going for something that I wasn't sure what it was. She was the only one knowing I wanted to stay in the USA, and I didn't know exactly how to do it.

Flying to a new country and going for my dream meant, literally, to take an airplane. Between Maracaibo and Miami I flew with Zuliana de Aviacion, an old airline that went out of business in Venezuela. But, from Miami to Los Angeles was the big dealfor me. I was flying on an American Airlines flight across the country on a fly longer than 4 hours, a big aircraft, and people I had never seen before in my life.

Sitting on a window seat, and flying to run 26.2 miles. As I am getting closer to my destination, I saw the mountains of the Sierra full with snow, something I had never seen before in my life. I kept looking through the window wondering, just wondering. I can't remember about what, but my eyes kept staring at the magnificent sightseeing. "WOW", I said to myself, "WOW".

Then we landed. Then, getting through Los Angeles International airport (LAX), and to follow instructions I had written on how to get to Buena Park, CA to the place I was going to stay, the relatives of a friend of mine back in Maracaibo, from Bolivia.

I was welcomed in the beginning, but eventually not welcomed after a week being there. I ended up staying in a Motel near the area where I was in Buena Park, close the Knott's Berry Farm amusement park. Within a couple of days, the time was set up to go to San Francisco. A city I always wanted to visit, to be, to experience, and, I did it. I got my Greyhound bus ticket, and I was on my way for a 5 days visit to the city by the Bay.

I can't recall many things about the first time I went to San Francisco. Still, I left most of my stuff in Buena Park, because I had to get back there if I was going to go back to Venezuela. I took enough clothes for those 5 days. The bus left at Midnight, and I was in San Francisco by early morning.

I can resume my memories from that first visit to San Francisco by walking around the Civic Center area where the beautiful City Hall is, walking Market street, staying in a hotel on Mission street and 8th street, going to the Castro, and meeting Michael and Randy, my first friends in the city, and who opened their home for me to stay a little longer. I made a good connection and developed a great friendship with Michael, because he was Latino from San Juan, Puerto Rico, he played volleyball, and loved to dance salsa, and we had that in common. Michael died of AIDS a year later. He was my first friend who died of AIDS, and the second person close to me of dying of this awful disease. The first one was my brother Leandro 3 years earlier.

I eventually went back to Buena Park to pick up the rest of my belongings, and come back to San Francisco, via the Greyhound buses, of course, and one thing I remember from those days is listening to Phil Collins, Billy Ocean and Roxette. Their music accompanied me everywhere. I had a Sony Walkman and tapes (cassettes) which I kept playing on the bus rides between San Francisco and Los Angeles.

Back in Buena Park, I picked my stuff and left, but not without first, spending almost a full day in a park waiting for the night when the time to go and take the bus was set, and second, getting a ticket for crossing a street not at the pedestrian cross area, but instead, in the middle the street. I got "pulled" over by this police officer, who called me, I was not understanding anything, but I remember, he asked me for my ID, I gave him my passport and he wrote a ticket for the violation. I felt violated, but then, I was just a tourist who didn't know anything, or any better.

Eventually, I arrived again back to San Francisco. I took the Muni bus for the first time, carrying a huge piece of luggage with me, which people on the bus couldn't care less, and stayed with Michael and Randy in the Castro area. I was not sure what was going to happen next, but I was enjoying the time being, and all the experiences I was living.

24 years old, "alone" in San Francisco, barely speaking English, but happy. Afraid, but happy. Without a plan, but happy. Very little money, but happy. Not knowing, but happy. And this first "page" is more than a page, but I am happy sharing it with you.

Already celebrating 20 years in the USA

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 16:06:00 +0000

Yesterday, as I walked Chipotle to get late lunch I noticed a manager interviewing a potential employee. They seemed to have a nice conversation, but ultimately what it is making write this is the fact that next Tuesday February 28th, 2012 I will be celebrating 20 years of living in the United States of America, and I saw myself in the same seat so many times in the beginning of this journey.

Working in restaurants as dishwasher, busboy or waiter (my friend Ramon would say, “Waitress.”) was part of my life in the beginning. My English was limited, although I was already going to San Francisco City College, and I couldn’t or didn’t feel comfortable to apply for any other job.

I wouldn’t change a thing from those years. They made me who I am right now and it will be part of challenge I have to myself: Write at least 20 pages of significant things that happened to me through the 20 years of living in the USA.

Back to Chipotle, and getting my lunch, and the interview session I saw, silently I wish him luck. Although, he might not needed (He was a blond, well put together and English speaking young man), I still wish him luck on his journey.

I am now an actor. Well, I have always been an actor. I am a Project Manager at a very lovely and professional company, Illuminate, Inc. In some extent, I have accomplished part of my “American Dream”.

I do speak and write English much better than in 1992. I have learned how this country and society is different than the Venezuelan society where I came from. Not by much, I think. Ultimately, I continue to learn on a daily basis how to live in this country, keeping my Latino roots alive and intact, and it is working fine. I still have a heavy accent which sometimes opens doors, and others, closes them forever. Ok, they lose.

You will hear about those 20 pages of 20 years living in the United States of America. As my very dear friend Tom says, you will hear about the “Monito” (little monkey) who came to the states to have a new life, and I have.

Galopando con Venezuela

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 23:15:00 +0000

Galopando, galopando cual caballo salvaje
No tengo mas que hacer que galopar
Dejar afuera la energia
y en el polvo que levanta mi galopar
escribir la palabra libertad,
libertad luego vuela
a traves del cielo que la recibe
y con la ayuda de vientos y suaves brisas
llego hasta a una nacion
con nombre de grandeza
y gente de larga y buena tradicion
alli encontro asiento
para vivir, crecer, y hacer de esta grandeza
la Nacion
prospera, con recursos y alegrias
amistades y fantasias
hechas realidad,
Venezuela

Pajaros, un Piano y Belen

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 20:55:00 +0000

Abriendo la ventana el aire entro
Los pajaros entraron en formas de cantos y sonidos mananeros,
Una sonrisa se perfilo, porque sabia lo que venia
El piano, la silla, sus manos, sus dedos
Cada tecla emitia una sonido y cada sonido la hace mirar a traves de la ventana
Y los sonidos que esta traia, ella multiplicaba en el piano
El piano se transform en un pajaro azul, a veces en pajaro verde y gris,
Pero sus manos, las bellas y delicadas manos de Belen eran las cuerdas vocals de ese pajaro
Que se dejaba acariciar con el toque,
Y felizmente, “cantaba” la melodia que ella creaba,
Y los cantos comenzaron a salir, desde la ventana
El aire, los disfrutaba, el sol radiaba aun mas, y a traves del musical sonido de pajaros y piano
El Don, quien en la plaza leia, sonreia
Y la Dona con su nieto, lloraba por la alegria de disfrutar de ESTE MOMENTO
Belen seguia acariciando a una pajaro llamado piano
Y los pajaros de las afueras seguian acariciendo las orejas y los oidos de ella
Y ambos…ambos, estuvieron acariciendo a una multitude que aparco en las afueras
Y nada decian, solo escuchaban y se veian,
Y muchos, por primera vez, se miraban a los ojos
Aun cuando la plaza fue lugar de encuentro y camino.
Ahora fue diferente y ellos lo sintieron.
Bravo, por esos pajaros, ese piano, y Belen

You, your voice, you breath, you once

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 13:16:00 +0000

Give your voice, give your breath
I want to hear what I always heard
nothing compare with your touch,
with your hair,
but was your passion, and your kisses, and your eyes
weak me, attached me,
not string attached,
well,
everything about you attached, Me,
to you,
give that voice for once,
stop being a muted figure,
or a young Charlie Chaplin
give-me-your-breath
I waited for that chance
I won that chance,
I deserve that chance,
I won that chance,
I own that chance.

Castles full of dreams

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 15:48:00 +0000

Castles full of dreams waiting to be discover

the breathing, both of them

touching each other, and getting close.

Close to loving each other a bit more.

Tasting the flavor of love

saying, I love you

when their tongues intertwined

and taste,

and saliva,

and another I love you.

One castle has been discovered,

and now,

let's open each window,

let's open each door...

and fly,

one dream at a time,

but holding hand, and kissing each other,

and sharing breaths

and the castle will become...

Ahead of me, I have a Life.

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Mon, 07 Nov 2011 12:23:00 +0000

When I wake up early in the morning (and I am not a morning person) I tend to write something. Today was a morning like that, I needed to write something from inside out.

The day ahead,
the week ahead,
the month ahead,
challenges, parties, visits, puppies,
pain, if I could take it out of this list,
but no, I can't...
let's go through it,
like in a tunnel, there will be the light at the end,
a light that says, here you are alive, and rich,
ready to continue.
I see,
I listen,
I smell,
I touch,
I speak, sing, recite,
I feel, I live.
Ahead of me, I have my life.

...and then I arrive to my blog page where my words, my thoughts, myself land safely, after the long trip through my previous night of dreams, touches, snoring, pillows and sheets, and lover next to me.

The accumulation of gentle, soft, almost invisible acts of compassion, everyday acts of compassion?

noreply@blogger.com (Juan Carlos Pinedo) — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 12:25:00 +0000

I started writing this note last Thursday October 27th, and it was an ugly (weather related) day in New England. Then I said the following, which I still stand for ...

On a day like today, here in Boston, the weather might have “complicated” things all over, but, BUT, the way people behave outside makes me wonder if we really care about anybody else, but, BUT, ourselves. Individually.

Animals (real animals) in a Safari in Africa, or in the jungle of the Amazon have to behave better than ourselves. They must. That’s why they ARE BETTER. They know how to be.

I... wonder if, via satellite, we could scan peoples’ brain between the time of 5:45 and 6:15 pm right now here in Boston, and find out what’s going on. Because, it is a scary place, to me. It makes me wanting to go home, and hide, deep where nobody can find me. It is scary place outside right now. An ugly one.

Then, my dear youngest brother visited us over the weekend (last weekend) in our home, and when I say home, I also mean Boston, the city where we live and the city that's holding and hosting the place we call home, therefore, my home city, right now.

...later in the week when I see and watch Chris Abini in an old speech (2008) from Ted.com, I see hope, because I feel there are people out there reminding us that we must get out of our own bubble, or crystal palace, and give more to others, especially our own humanity if we don't want to become a rising jungle of human beings killing each other for not other reason but because I have to be first, or I can't wait, or I am a son of a bitch selfish.

The world is going to continue. I have no doubt about it, but if we want to make changes not only for a more sustainable communities, cleaner environment, safer societies, happier people and places to live, we must start doing what Abini says, "simple accumulation of gentle, soft, almost invisible acts of compassion, everyday acts of compassion."

I believe it is worth it to try out, to do "the test". Simply, be more kind, and when you go out, for any reason, ANY REASON, just try to reflect your own humanity on others, and see what happens.

John Lennon said it, and I guess...I am one of those believers in a better world where we can make a difference by doing small acts of generosity, kindness, love, and compassion. The "pay off" goes beyond our own personal well being.

That's all...simple thoughts that I finished writing them almost a week later on Wednesday November 2nd, 2011.