Welcome to America - Where Violence Starts Young.

Tristan's birthday party was yesterday, and much fun was had by all. As in every birthday party he has ever had, the crowning glory of the party (besides the awesome bubble-wrap party game: and whoever thought of THAT was absolutely brilliant) was the piñata.

I have never given piñatas much thought. Everyone has them. They are standard fare in the borderlands at birthday parties and other special occasions. But, holy cow, they really teach kids how to be violent.

Child approaches effigy of choice.


Child is handed a baseball bat or a stick.


Crowd screams in what can only be called blood lust, "Hit it! Kill it! Knock it around! Harder! Hit it harder!"

Parents and adults comment on the ability of the child to destruct the effigy. The more powerful the blows, the better. You hear things like, "She's a little spitfire, she is" or "Look at how he hits it, he will be strong when he grows up."

To challenge older children, they can be blindfolded and spun around, thus ensuring that they are capable of violence in difficult situations.

Children take turns hitting until said effigy is in bad enough shape to let out its insides, which happens to be some sort of sweet or toy. There is the mad rush of children to fill bags with goodies fallen to the ground, and a real 'each to his own' mentality. Those who get the most win. Those who don't, cry.

Upon thinking about it, this innate violence is not limited to this culture and the occurrences of piñatas (which may have originated in China and traveled across the world to Spain, and by extensions, Mexican culture.) The world has many types of similar things.

The ancient concept of the sacred king, who is sacrificed for the fertility of the fields at the end of his reign, transmuted into the sacrifice of an effigy. England's Bonfire Night sees children throwing effigies of the traitor Guy Fawkes they have been carrying around onto the bonfire and screaming in delight as it burns.

Historically effigies have represented powerful figures, and even today the destruction of an effigy may be a political statement of discontent.

It is not that I am against piñatas. I have grown up with them, as have my children. But it interests me that there is such a violent undercurrent to them that we don't even really notice. Perhaps violence is in our nature the world over.

References:

Sacred King:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sacred_king

The Piñata:
http://www.mexconnect.com/mex_/travel/wdevlin/wdpinatahistory.html

Bonfire Night:
http://www.woodlands-junior.kent.sch.uk/customs/guy/history.htm

Political Effigies:
http://cultureandcommunication.org/deadmedia/index.php/Political_Effigies

Effigies as political statements:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2006/sep/16/catholicism.religion
http://www.asiantribune.com/?q=node/12225

Hello Bluebells!

Hi Bluebells!

I thought you might want to know what I have done so far on my holiday, so I am sending you this blog to tell you, and to show you pictures.

Mr. Amy and I left on Wednesday night to go to London on a train, because I had to go to the airport VERY early and it was a long way away.

This is me on the train. Mr. Amy took this picture so I could say hi to you!

This is one of the stations that the train stopped at on the way to London. The train stops so that people can get on and off. Can you see what the town is called?

I got up and left our house to go to the train station so early that Mr. Amy was still asleep. I had to catch a bus, then another train to get to the airport.

This was the place I was sitting on the train. My luggage is strapped into the wall of the train so it didn't roll away when the train stopped. I watched it the whole time. It didn't do anything interesting at all. It just sat there.

This is a funny picture of me that I took for you. I was so tired that I forgot to smile.

These are some pictures of the planes I saw. The long tube is where the people walk to get onto the plane. You can see some steps that the people who maintain the planes use to put the luggage and the petrol into the plane and check to make sure it is safe to fly.

Can you see how many wheels are on these planes?

This is the plane that I flew in. I walked through the tube and through a door to get in the plane. It was full of lots of people. Each chair had a TV and I got to watch a film called 'Nim's Island'. I sat on the airplane for a really long time, all day long. Then I was at another airport and I had to wait a long time so I could get on another airplane. When I got off, my family was waiting for me! We all cried, we were so happy to see each other. Now I am at my Mummy's house.

This is a close picture so you can see how many wheels there really are on an airplane. Can you count them? Remember that some are hiding on the other side of the airplane too.

I miss you all, Bluebells, and will write to you again soon. You can ask me questions or write back to me if you want. There is a place at the bottom that says 'comments'. You can write there and I will see it!

The Truth is... Heavenly Hell

The truth of the last 36 hours is that they have been extremely difficult, but all for a good reason. I am in El Paso, I have Boo in my arms, and I never want to let him go. I have had little sleep, I cried more than once (actually, once in each airport) and I discovered that 1. I really hate traveling, especially alone, and 2. I think of England as home. I didn't realise that.

The reason that I am posting this little tidbit of truth is that I am going to use this blog to write to my kids at school about the trip. So you will see the gooshey everything-is-nice version, including pictures. But you all deserve the truth, too.

People so far have been difficult for me. I guess that I developed some sort of larger personal space rules, because everyone seems too close and too loud. Family has been wonderful, though. It is the random strangers that I am talking about. I didn't actually have a decent cup of tea until I got to Mom's house, and I needed it. My body hasn't adjusted to the time at all - I was exhausted and went to bed in El Paso by midnight. I was up at 3. Could not sleep. Because in my head that was 10 and I just couldn't bear to lie abed any longer. So I'm up. Now it is 5 am and I feel like my day is half over. Part of me wants to wake Tristan up and go and do stuff - but it is not exactly fair to make a kid change his schedule just because mine is out of whack.

So, enough truth. Onto the gloss!

And Whose Mad Idea Was This?!

Wow, can I stop to breathe yet?

1. We have a house. Really, a flat. It is a bit smaller (which is good) and a lot less expensive (which is also good.) We signed the papers on Saturday.

Up until Saturday was packing madness in preparation for the hypothetical move.

2. Saturday morning I RENTED A VEHICLE (Ford Transit Luton) from a van rental company and I had the joy of driving in Britain for the first time. I thought the wrong side of the road would be the worst. Nope. It is the shift on the left side rather than the right. And those round abouts are HARD. To signal properly you have to use the turn signal that tells where you will be going rather than the direction you actually start to turn in. It makes no sense to explain it, and it made no sense in my head while driving, but it does make sense when thought through.

3. Also on Saturday, we moved. 1 friend helped for about an hour. Stephen's mum's partner (SMP) helped. That was it. I have never before moved without having a million friends to help. It was such hard work. The old house is on the 3rd floor, as is the new one. Neither has an elevator. By the end of the day, we were both so exhausted that we couldn't think.

4. I am mean to my feet. Friday at work a mom stepped on my foot with her stiletto heels. So that is bruise 1 on the right foot. Saturday I dropped a table. That is bruise 2 on my right foot. I also kicked a box (bruise 3) and tripped on a stair (bruise 4.) The same table on my foot again (blood blister on top of bruise 2.) My possibly broken toe ached all day from the activity. I caught my right thumb on the railing of the new stairwell 5 or 6 times (yup - bruises) and somehow I managed to develop very nasty bruises on both knees. Poor Stephen has been plagued with leg cramps since, and with good reason: he and SMP did all the heaviest lifting without me.

5. Sunday was a shopping day, and I am now ready for my flight on Thursday morning very early. I will see you all then. I am going to collapse now.