Clutter

My family accumulates things. The fridge accumulates tiny containers of dipping sauce which nobody will eat. We save the ketchup and chili sauce packets that come with pizza, even though none of us eat them. We have tons of keychains. We have tons of books. We have fifteen-year-old elementary-school textbooks. We have tangles of toys crammed into a plastic storage box under the stairs. We must have around a hundred mugs. And there are uncountable decorative bowls, vases, plates, figurines and other souvenirs.

Be it by nature or nurture, I have a tendency to obtain and accumulate things (Star Wars toys, amusing pillows and odd bits of nature extracted from their homes during field trips** all come to mind) and am averse to throwing them away. Luckily for me, I seem to be less averse than my parents, who once yelled at me for not eating the corners of a slice of cake.

Two weeks ago, I felt suddenly overwhelmed by how much stuff I had and threw out two trash bags' worth of stuff from my room, which was promptly picked over by the housekeeper. This means that a stuffed toy, a plastic CD case and other such items are now on display in the laundry room (which is of her domain, as she uses it a lot more than anyone else does).

All my old Star Wars toys (and there were many of them), anime figurines, a music box, a poster I never got framed are in storage; a lot of my ex-clothes is being put to use by other people (I only have one metal band T-shirt left!), I threw out a bunch of useless knickknacks, relocated a table elsewhere in the house, dusted everything…

…and I am still swimming in stuff, but at least it is now mostly things that I want and use.

Still, I've been bitten by the decluttering bug. Today I attacked some common areas and threw out what felt like 12kg of old magazines, threw out a bunch of garbage that has been lurking for who-knows-how-many years un the bottoms of decorative vases that lay, concealed and forgotten, behing potted plants, and amassed two dozen or so decorative bowls.

Why do we have so many bowls? They just sit stacked on a shelf and gather dust and lost earrings. And that's just the ones that were in two rooms downstairs– in the display cabinets upstairs there are bowls all the way back o every shelf, and more bowls stacked in the cupboards underneath. When I asked my Dad if there was any one that he felt comfortable getting rid of, he pointed at one shaped like a green pig (it's not as kitschy as it sounds, it's actually quite nice) and then suggested I wrap up all the others and put them in storage because they're pieces of art.

In storage? Where? What for??

AUUUGH! I am ridding myself of the habit of accumulating things, even small, insignificant things like pen holders.

Oh, I didn't mention the pen holders, did I? We have a lot of those, too. But my Dad's tools of the trade are pen and paper (well, that and a few Apple products) so the pen holders are actually put to use. They're all over the house, on nearly every end table and desk. There's enough of them to be on every one, but some desks are selfish and can have three or four pen holders so there aren't enough to go around.

You know, there's something extra odd about having so many decorative things tucked away and piled on top of each other– none of them are actually hung up on a wall or anything. At most they sit, bunched together like merchandise in a shop, on top of a surface such as the piano. Maybe if we set some of them up properly, people would finally feel the house is "decorated" and stop bringing more things into the house.

Weekend project.

** By which I mean things like a walnut shell, or a giant mushroom which my teacher had harvested and was going to throw out. You know, not stuff like a ghost crab for a pet or anything.

School

Today was my second day of school. I started fifth semester, which means I'm almost halfway through my bachelor's degree. Actually I'm supposed to be two-thirds done, because the degree is eight semesters long, but you need to take a workshop** during your last four semesters and I didn't join one this semester.

I don't know what I want to specialize in, you see, and the workshop you join will define what you'll write your thesis about and who will be your supervisor. I was completely enamored with Parasitology, which turned out to be a dud when I took the class last semester, so I'm treading carefully in the world of Biology these days.

I'm getting interested in animal behaviour these days. There's a workshop on that but I didn't join it because what if I end up disillusioned with animal behaviour, the way it happened with Parasitology?

I'm taking Ecology of Animal Conduct this semester and so far it's looking great. The teacher is really good, plus he's English so it sounds cool whenever he says a name or book title. The rest of the time he speaks Spanish with an accent reminiscent of my Mom's, so I feel right at home.

Anyway, the animal conduct workshop will open again next year. If I want it, I'll wait for it and add an extra year to my bachelor's degree. If not, I'll join something else next semester.

I also signed up Biological Anthropology because it sounded fascinating, but after going to the first class and getting a list of the recommended bibliography I can see that it's not what I was hoping for (it's mostly genetics), so I'm dropping it like a hot potato so I can concentrate on my other five courses, especially animal behaviour.

** Workshop as in "meeting at which a group of people engage in intensive discussion and activity on a particular subject or project", as defined by the Merriam-Webster dictionary widget I have on my dashboard. We don't spend two years carving table legs or something.

Birdie

Yesterday a bird fell out of a tree in the backyard while I was whittling a penguin out of wood**. I only figured it out when the Small Dog, who is a cocker spaniel and therefore is engineered to fetch birds, risked life and limb fighting the bamboo thicket and later a thorn bush while trying to get at it.

The bird was freaking out so it ran around the yard and I managed to tackle Dog just when she had the bird's tail in her mouth but hadn't chomped down yet. The bird ran away into the thorn bush and I tied up Dog so that the bird could regain its composure and fly away. It didn't, though, and stayed on the ground beneath the bush until not even the combined efforts of my dad, my sister, her fiancé and me were any help getting it out of the bush and away from Dog. Eventually we gave up when my dad pointed out that it was hopping around to get away from us and it was getting poked by all the thorns.

Small Dog stayed tied up for the rest of the day, except for a brief stint where she tugged at the chain so much that her collar snapped in two (killer instinct, that dog has), and this morning the bird had migrated into a small bamboo on the other side of the yard. The bird's mom was flapping around the bamboo and screaming at her kid, and also screaming at Maxie when she wandered into the yard for some sniffing, a pee and possibly breakfast. It followed her around, hopping on the wall and on the trees, screaming at the top of its birdie lungs. Maxie totally didn't notice.

I don't know what the bird's status is now. I haven't seen it since morning, although I heard it conversing with its mom in the afternoon. For my own peace of mind, and to make up for making the bird poke itself with thorns yesterday, I made a little bird bath and tied it to the braches of the tree. Next to it I put a slice of bread with almond butter and sunflower seeds. I read that in a kids' activity book when I was little, except in the book they used peanut butter. I figured that our peanut butter has some added oils and whatnot and probably the almond butter is better for the bird. Or for the bugs, who are probably going to be the ones to eat it.

** I do not mention this to show of my whittling skills, but because "whittling" is a funny word. Like "soup".

Yoga

I woke up today with a horrible headache, stiffness and pain all over my body, including my eyes (!). So I languished in bed for a while, then moved downstairs to languish on the sofa so that my parents could take pity on me more easily (I'm all about helping others).

After some aspirin, a nap and some mother-brewed Chamomile tea, I did some yoga with a DVD. The DVD was bizarre, featuring a woman called Wai Lana who demonstrated the poses while wearing an assortment of colorful jumpsuits and a flower wreath decorating each of her extremities, in various picturesque sceneries (mountains, beaches, rivers…) on a big, orange living room carpet.

Anyway, regardless of its weirdness, the yoga helped me loosen up my sore muscles and made the last bit of my headache dissipate. During the relaxation, when you're supposed to lie down with your eyes closed and enjoy the music, I peeked at the screen and was surprised to see footage of Wai Lana dancing in the snow, sledding with her friends and having snow fights.

I'm feeling much better now, enough to want some Ben & Jerry's ice cream.

Vacation

Last week, from Monday to Friday, I went with several of my friends from high school to Morelos. One of them has an uncle who built a weekend house there, though the place isn't used much. It has three bedrooms, two bathrooms and an outdoor kitchen all in a row at the back of the property, and then a lawn with a few trees and a pool.

We got there by bus (it's not a long ride– about 1.5 hours on a bus, then two half-hour rides on vans and then a short walk up a hill) and spent several hours cleaning the place and reclaiming it from the insects and arachnids who had staked out their territory in the absence of people. It had accumulated dust and dirt and did I mention the wasps?

There were a few wasp nests here and there. Some of them we knocked down, but we left the bigger ones alone. The biggest was inside a bathroom, so it happened several times that someone would go in, shut the door, and then come barreling back out in a panic shrieking that there was a wasp inside.

One night, most of us stayed up late talking, and then moved into a small tent that we had set up on the porch (on the porch because it was raining so hard). Seven of us somehow squeezed into the two-person tent to keep talking, and then six of us fell asleep inside (one guy was smart enough to go to bed at 3AM). We woke up in the morning feeling all stiff and crampy.

Another night we set up a bigger tent and slept in the yard. Sometime in the early morning someone woke up and noticed that their blanket was wet, and realized that it was raining and the tent was leaking. So we groggily went to our rooms, and stupidly left behind a bunch of sheets and comforters behind to get soaked in the tent.

Oh, and on one day, my friend's uncle– the owner of the house– swung by with some other men to paint the walls. They brought a little boy, about four years old, who we took turns playing with ALL DAY. That kid did not know the meaning of the word "tired". For about an hour we played a game that consisted of him standing at the edge of the pool and "hiding" a plastic ball inside one of four inflatable swimming tires. He would then instruct me to swim underwater from one end of the pool to the other and surface through the hole in the tires, looking for the ball. Of course the ball was always in the last tire where he made me look. On the plus side, it was an excellent workout; that kid should be a personal trainer.

Baby salamander

I promised I'd be in bed by 11:00 PM, and it's now 10:50 PM on the dot. But I wanted to write a quickie blog post for some reason. So, photo review it is!

A few weeks ago my Parasitology class went on our one-day field trip. I was falling asleep on my feet and eventually sunk into a little corner and suddenly my teacher was looking down at me with slight concern and asked if I wanted to go outside and breathe some fresh air. I was all, "Uuuurgh, uh, urgh. OH! Sorry, sorry, sorry, I, um, yeah, I'll go outside."

Anyway, we went to a somewhat big aquarium/fish farm to buy some fish. Back in the lab, we cut them open and looked for parasites (we didn't find a lot. A tiny copepod, but not much other than that). One of the things they were breeding was axolotls, which are well-loved by most people who know them. The axolotl tadpoles were kind of dumb and we could scoop them up and watch them wiggle around cutely, unlike the toad tadpoles who would turn tail and flee if you so much as thought about them.

So that picture up there is an axolotl baby in my hand.

Cuetzalan

My Natural Resources class went on a field trip to Cuetzalan, Puebla to visit the town and study the artisans, beekeepers, general population and coffee, bamboo, pepper, cinnamon growers, both independent and those belonging to a cooperative called Tosepan Titataiske ("together we will overcome" in Náhuatl). The cooperative has several branches so just about anyone can join and do different activities, or be a member of their bank.

Our group was split into teams and each team studied something different about the community or the cooperative. My team studied something to do with the living conditions of the people who belong to the cooperative**. And after talking to the people in Cuetzalan, the (very poor) towns nearby and the people at the Tosepan cooperative, we reached some sad conclusions about the cooperative.

I mean, we wanted the cooperative to be everything it said it was, but the only positive things I can safely say about it are:

• It employs organic techniques to grow coffee and some other things (but this isn't the same thing as being sustainable, keep in mind)
• It got some roads built, so some marginalized communities have easier access to the sweet fruits of civilization. Such as cement.
• The coffee growers who manage to get in have a set price for the coffee they grow throughout the year, if the cooperative buys it from them. Which isn't always the case, apparently.

Other than that, well, it's not so nice. Let's just say that the woman I spoke to on our first day there wasn't missing out on much by not joining. She wanted to join, but she couldn't save up enough money ("my husband," she explained, "he's a Catholic. No, I mean, alcoholic. He's an alcoholic."). You need 800 pesos to join the cooperative as a member of the "caja de ahorros", which is basically a bank. My phone cost a few times that much.

This is Cuetzalan. The town center is at the end of this road.

**Honestly, I'm not sure exactly what the objectives of my team's study were. One girl sort of commandeered the whole thing and had an idea in mind that none of the other members of the team really understood. We were trying to all work on it but then she would resist any change we tried to implement, until eventually we all each reached the unspoken conclusion that we would just meekly follow her bidding. We asked again during the field trip what the exact objectives were and she floundered for a few minutes and didn't get around to telling us. I wasn't keen on the "lie back and do what you're told to do" idea until I had a panic attack during a Natural Resources class and the teacher found me curled up and sobbing in a corridor near the classroom and told me (nicely) to chill because "what we're doing in the class, it's nothing! It's shit! Real life s so much more complicated than this, in every aspect" etc. My psychologist and I agreed. The bottom line is that now I grasp our project by about 65% and my sanity is back up to about 90%, which is a better proportion than 85% and 55%, respectively.