CREATIVE WRITING

LETTER FROM BERTHA ON FEBRUARY 26TH, 1986

(Inspired by Heinrich Boell's short story, "Like a Bad Dream")
by Petra Heidl

It has been exactly 30 years now and the weather is also cold but not windy, still and peaceful. I remember the day as if it were yesterday… the feelings….the fear….the recognition….the realization. How small-minded I was, we all were, back then, in 1956. It was a day in winter, how it was almost every day in that month in winter: freezing cold, grey, with a sharp wind coming directly from every direction and creeping perfectly through every single layer of your clothes. But I didn´t think about the weather; I just thought about this contract, this ominous overwhelmingly important contract. When I remember back to that day, chills creep along my back.

I thought about how Thomas would react. Like my father predicted? That he would be ok, learn the rules and accept them? Later that night, when we came back from the Zumpens; I let him by himself – thinking this had to be that way. My parents both told me to leave him alone to think it all over, and I never questioned it.

Maybe I should have doubted their advice? Like Thomas doubted the business at first? What would have happened if I had gone to him and talked to him like a partner, a friend? If I had supported him that night when he was trapped in his thoughts surrounding his business, would our marriage and partnership have been more successful? I guess so! After this experience with the Zumpens and also me he turned slowly in a direction I would have never thought of. Yes, I was cold and calculating, but just in a reasonable way – nobody had really gotten hurt! And I meant it for his own good. I would have never harmed him, if only I had… As a business person you should not get too greedy, never! This will definitely be your end then. Well, it was Thomas´ end in some way and also the end of our marriage.

After a few years in a good working partnership he changed more and more. He started to drink and a he always had “business” appointments in the evenings; I knew what kind of “business” it was. Women, women who were so different from me, women you can find in the yellow press, each month with another man in their arms… I knew that this was our end but what should I have done? My parents died in an accident in Spain and I had no siblings. I was afraid of what could happen to me without Thomas.

Why had he never asked for a divorce, you may ask? Well, I think in a way he felt thankful, because he knew I was the one he owed his career to and was responsible for all the money he could earn through me and my family. My parents said that marriage is always a compromise and that it should never end in divorce. In that time it was not very respectable to get divorced, at least for the wife. And I didn´t want to give up my lifestyle at all. So I let him continue with his womanizing.

I would assume I had paid my guilt, it had been my penalty for not being him the wife I should have been that special fateful night. How sad…! You can never turn back the clock, never; one should always think of it and never forget!

After Thomas got ill two years ago with liver cancer I was able to pay him back my guilt and could be the partner I could have never been for him back in our early marriage. I stood with him all the time to his end three months ago. I sold everything then and because we never had children (what I really missed) I donated most of it to a charity foundation for orphans.

I feel ok now, not happy but I will begin a new life now and help young women who want to start their own business. I support them making business plans and organizing their financial affairs. But I will not show them the business practices I learned and we used back in our time. I had to write this for me, just for me, because I actually have nobody in my family left who cares for me. But I feel better now, writing all my experiences and thoughts, like I did in my diary many years before. So I just decided to write a diary again about my new life because a new era begins with lots of opportunities and changes in my life. I feel great now after writing, full of enthusiasm. I had to make peace with me and my past at this time.

I will move to Berlin and am going to buy a very nice 2-room apartment just for me. I am looking forward to it and hoping my new job will give me fullest satisfaction. And I will keep in mind that silence is an argument which is almost never to disprove. (Quotation of Heinrich Böll)

The Last Hero (inspired by the short story "A Handful of Dates," by Tayeb Salih)
by Ivete dos Santos

“Then, without knowing why, I put my finger into my throat and spewed up the dates I’d eaten.” This whole story comes to me as if I were seeing a movie. I can remember details from that time. However, it has remained in my subconscious up to now. Why does it come to me just at this moment? Here is my grandfather, and I have to say something about him. Everyone expects it from me. I was his favorite grandson, although ever since that episode I have seen him in a different way: he was no more my hero, my idol, my safe port. I have lost my innocence and I could never believe in a hero anymore. He had been the last one for me. Definitely, it was the saddest time and a milestone in my life. I learned at a very young age what it means to be an adult: a synonymous with hypocrisy. I was interrupted from my thoughts by the Sheikh, “Son, I know it is a very difficult moment for you, but we are waiting for your speech.” Like an innocent child discovered in a bad behavior, I felt my face blushed.

Standing up in front of his coffin , looking towards those people, I felt I was an adult myself and I could not escape from human nature. Therefore, after deep breathing, I said these words:
“I owe what I am as a person to this man! He taught me the real meaning of respect, justice, love and mercy. Had I lived my childhood far from him, I would not have learned these lessons so quickly at such a young age. He built his life according to his beliefs and he followed them coherently. He was responsible for my desire to study abroad. He was very proud of me, because it had been his will when he was a teenager, but at that time, he had no money for that. He worked hard to reach his goals and we can say he was a winner. I am sure he was a successful man, for his dreams came true. I pray for Allah to help him rest in peace!”

After the funeral, I was looking forward to leaving this land, but I had to wait until after the period of mourning. “The mosque, the river and the fields – these were the landmarks in our life”. Watching these fields now, I knew they had lost their magic, their power over me. I could not avoid the nostalgia, for I had been so happy here. How I miss those innocent times! While I was thinking about that , a man who seemed familiar to me approached and told me that someone was waiting for me in my grandfather’s library. On our way to the library, I asked him who he was, and I was shocked to hear he was one of Masood’s grandsons, who was the manager of my grandfather’s farm now.

Having no time to learn the details, because we had already arrived in the library, where some of my relatives and a lawyer were waiting for me, I asked to myself what had happened that brought this man to work in my grandfather’s farm… “ it is time to read the will!” announced the lawyer. For me, his beloved grandson, he left the remaining third part of Masood’s land, which my grandfather had bought only a month before Masood’s death. Not only did he take the heart of the palm, but he took the heart of poor Masood as well!

Even though I thought I had spewed up all the dates I’d eaten, now I feel that one still remains bitterly, hurting my throat, producing a poisoning taste, and unless I get it out, it will kill me. Then, calling the attorney and Masood’s grandson in a private conversation, I gave back his grandfather’s heart or, at least, the third part of it .Immediately, feeling like a bird that just get its freedom, I began to recite the Chapter of the Merciful, involved by the same happiness that I used to feel before becoming conscious of the reality of my last hero!


In The Market
By Yumi Lee

I don’t know how old I was. My guess is that I was about three. Even though I cannot remember exactly with whom I went there, I know what happened at that time. One fine day, my dad had to go to Seoul on official business; so, I went there with him without mom. At that time Seoul was where my grandparents lived. Even though I was a child, I loved hanging out the same as now. To my surprise, I began to toddle since eight months. It seemed I was a gifted child. Anyway we went by air quickly.

The day after we arrived at their home, dad went to work. As he couldn't take me to work with him, he left me in my grandparents’ care. I really didn't recall the feeling just then. The ones left, who were me and my grandparents, had nothing to do at home. My grandfather and I were ready for hanging out. He was proud of me as his first grandchild. He wanted to show me his purpose, which was the day’s work, which was to show me to a relative, in brief, my father's paternal aunt.

It was a lovely day. The sun shone brightly. It was good to play away our time. I thought that the weather made me feel a breath of spring. He had decided to stop in a market on the way before we went to the relative’s home. Then on our way, we dropped by Yeongdeong-po traditional market to buy something for a present. I thought he grasped my hand hard. While he came and went to fruit stores and a grocery shop, I took a stroll from place to place of my own accord. I felt as if I were on another planet. After a few hours had passed, he realized that I was missing. Therefore, he looked all over the market for me. Finally he found me after hours of absence.

Trying to trace back in memory, at the moment I didn't care a bit. I just walked on to look around the market. I had never even thought that I was missing just then. Moreover I was too young to feel what fear is. In the market, there are many people and variety of things which are magnetic. Actually this kind of place held me spell-bound that I had never felt before and did appeal to me. While he was tracking down me, I was just a little way from him. He felt very embarrassed for a little while, but the finish was good. Although I hadn't said anything to him, I should have been very sorry. Since that time, he didn't go out with me. I think he was afraid that something might happen unexpectedly. I am truly thankful about how my grandfather took care of me. I heard it in detail later from my dad. According to his saying, he didn’t know until he came home from work. My mom was the same.

In comparison with the grandfather of the protagonist in “A Handful of Dates” by Tayeb Salih, first of all, my experience is much warmer than his. My grandfather has a clean bright personality. Secondly, he didn't make me feel that I had been betrayed by him. I believe that he led an honest life even if he failed in his undertaking. Whenever I think about that event, I remember his beloved image. I indeed miss him.




Sick Life
By Andrea Rangel

First Sergeant Riley was from Aracataca, a little town full of plantain trees. His parents had always worked hard to give him more opportunities in life. They knew life is hard for those that are not wealthy enough to pay for it but that knowledge can lead anybody to success. His parents wanted him to go to college just as his sister had. However, his only dream was to live in a more peaceful country. He had seen the example of his uncle John being a general in the Colombian army. He joined the army to fight for his country.

He was always dedicated, determined, and passionate. He was the best soldier the army had had in a long time. After five years he was named First Sergeant. His only goals were to help people around him, get a safer country, and get a better life for everybody around him. His troop was showing very impressive results; for example, they had cleared one of the most dangerous zones in the country (Magdalena) in just two months. As he had successfully accomplished his mission the government sent him to the most dangerous zone (Los Llanos) with his troop, where he was expected to eradicate a group called the M-17 in a month.

They had located the zones where the M-17 were training and they had sent a troop with 15 experienced soldiers with Corporal Barnes as the leader to fight them. Two weeks passed and he hadn’t received news from the troop. One afternoon he was analyzing the locations when the soldiers started screaming in the yard- he is dead! He went out to see what was going on and to his surprise one of the soldiers from the first troop had just arrived with a letter in his hand.

First Sergeant Riley,
We tried to fight them but they were too many. We have never seen an army as sadistic as this one. They had tortured most of my men before killing them. Please do not send any more soldiers to fight them. They are around 300 crazy men. If you are to eradicate them you will need more than 20 soldiers to do it. Go back to the capital before they get to you or another of us. We discovered they have a plan to bombard our battalion and kill all of the soldiers there. Please tell my wife that I love her and that the only purpose of me doing this was to get more opportunities for our family.
Corporal Barnes.



After seeing the note and the dead body First Sergeant Riley tried to call the capital to ask for more soldiers to come to reinforce them. However, he couldn’t communicate. He decided to send everybody back home. The same day that Corporal Barnes had brought the letter they left the battalion. Everybody was happy to finally be able to see their families. Nevertheless, First sergeant Riley was worried about the fate of the 14 soldiers. He went to the capital instead of his home and he went to talk to the general. He told him the story and how they had to leave before somebody got killed. By the end of the day the only thing he had heard was, “You are a deserter and you have made your troop be one too.”

He was sent back to El Batallon Patria, which is the most important one in Colombia, where he was sent to jail for a year. He had to take care of the kitchen, couldn’t have any visitors, had to clean the bathrooms, wasn’t able to exercise, had to work in the plantations for more than seven hours a day, wasn’t able to go out, and couldn’t talk to his family. The only thing he regretted was not to have died in the war.

Andrea at the IMG College Commitment Ceremony: Congratulations on Signing with UNC Greensboro!

IN MY OPINION: RESPONDING TO NON-FICTION

Rich Dad Poor Dad : Is the Author's Premise True and Worthy?
by Andrea Rangel

Does school really prepare children for the real world? (1). Robert Kiyosaki’s book, Rich Dad Poor Dad, is a complete description about how the rich get richer and the poor remain the same or worse. Through the book he is able to show the reader the best pieces of advice that his two dads could give him and those even that economically speaking are excellent, precious, and vital laws for life. It is an excellent guide for those who are struggling with any kind of problem if you know how to interpret it.

During his life Robert’s dad was a well-educated person. He went to school, got great grades, went to college, got a safe job, and worked for the government for a long time. He had lived “the dream” during his life. He had everything he wanted or at least what he thought he wanted. His father was not wealthy but he was not poor at all. They were middle class and his dad had a good position in the government. When Robert was little he went to a school where the majority of the student population was rich. However, he found one truly best friend who was in his same socio-economic class. As the story advances he tells how his best friend’s father became his “rich dad.” Also, how he struggled at the beginning to find out which was the best choice for his life. He mentioned that having the two points of view from his fathers gave him a better conception of the world and business.

I will briefly describe his two dads’ opinions. Kiyosaki’s real dad was a great student, who had gotten scholarships in some of the best universities in the country. He wasn’t interested in money. Kiyosaki’s dad was a person with other types of priorities in life. As he said “I chose to be a schoolteacher. Schoolteachers really don’t think about being rich” (16). Poor dad was more worried about family and reaching happiness with everyday living choices rather than with money. He believed in the power of self-knowledge and hard work. On the other hand, his rich dad didn’t finish eighth grade. However his goals were only about money. Money represented power. He was against traditional schools. He said, “if you want to learn to work for money, then stay in school. That is a great place to learn to do that.”

Kiyosaki mentions: "who controls the past controls the future, who controls the present controls the past" (1). This is probably the most valuable lesson someone can ever learn. Everyday we care about our future. We live a life that is like a race against time to get our “goals.” Or we remember the past and complain about our actions. But it is hard to find a person who pays attention to the present and his or her actions. I am facing it today. It is hard for me to avoid thinking of college –where am I going to go? What if I do not get into Georgetown? But the reality is that I will not be able to change my future if I do not care about my present. A few weeks ago I was playing in a tournament I could have won but I did not. It was only because of my lack of understanding of what I can control and what I cannot. If I had played on Sunday thinking about my score rather than winning the tournament, I could have shot even but I was thinking about how it would feel if I won my first big tournament –huge mistake. Kiyosaki is right; we need to worry about the present because it is the only thing that we really have. The only way that worrying about another time in life is good for us is when we are figuring out our mistakes to understand our failures and set up our goals, because in order to reach our goals we need to know what our failures are and the way to fulfill them.

Another lesson that his rich dad teaches is that we need to find the difference between assets and liabilities. An asset is something that puts money in your pocket and a liability is something that takes it away from you. This lesson personally touched my heart and mind. Not only economically speaking but mentally talking about sports and time. My biggest investment is my time. Time is my “money.” I figured out that my biggest investment needs to become an asset and stop being a liability. My time should give me more knowledge rather than filling my brain with empty air. I have set up many goals for my life. The closest one is going to college to play golf and learn about economics. If I want to reach my goal, I know I have to pay attention to what I do everyday. I need to practice harder, slower, and deeper. I need to be focused on the moment, not on the result, because the result depends on the moment. To be honest, I know that I need to pay attention to every moment as long as I can.

Robert’s rich dad spoke about what we learn in school. During our era schools are creating a workers’ mentality, where the highest goal you would ever get is to be a manager in a company, but you would reach it only after years and decades of hard work. I totally agree with him when he says, “whenever the teacher said, if you don’t get good grades, you won’t do well in the real world,” Mike and I just raised our eyebrows. When we were told to follow set procedures and not deviate from the rules, we could see how schooling process actually discouraged creativity. We started to understand why rich dad told us that schools were designed to produce good employees instead of employers.” Schools have to change the way they are teaching. They are not teaching to make children better for society but to remain the same. As the world has developed, schools should have developed too.

In fact, as the book advanced I was remembering a short essay that I wrote while I was in eighth grade. I was an excellent student; in fact, the best of my class. The teachers loved me and I loved to learn so I always studied hard. However I knew school was just a way to learn a little bit about general culture. I knew that it was not going to make me more intelligent or richer. School is designed to create responsible people but not smart people. Its purpose is only to generate good citizens not excellent ones. I wrote about it in eight grade. My mom was worried about me because I had gotten to a point where I just wanted to go to a college and validate courses to finish high school earlier and go to university because I was sure school was not going to help me reach my goals. Everybody was surprised that the best girl in the school was the one that did not want to study anymore. I could not got out of school that year but I worked hard to get promoted before everybody else and I got an early promotion during my senior year. The point is school does not teach people how to be smarter, it does not promote imagination, creativity, or intelligence. Schools are places where people definitely go to learn about what really smart people had figured out centuries before. Schools do not promote creativity. I have always said that people during the Renaissance found out so many things and discovered so many laws because they were creative. They were wondering why and how things happened. Nowadays, we only care about what things happen. Furthermore, we are like machines that are trying to save information in the brain.

It is necessary to mention that the differences I could find between rich and poor dad is a lack of creativity and a constant fear. Kiyosaki mentioned: “my soon to be rich dad would explain that by automatically saying the words ‘I cant afford it” your brains stops working. By asking the question “how can I afford it” your brain is put to work” (12). Rich dad was definitely creative. He wanted Robert and Mike to develop a sense of possibilities and creativity so they could figure out ways to solve problems rather than to make them bigger. As he said, “If you find you have dug yourself into a hole… stop digging.” Poor dad was simply afraid of not being able to sustain his family so he followed the normal pattern of life. He was a really hard worker and he was a good father but he had to fight a lot for what he wanted. After re-reading the book I think that the only problem that we face or at least that I face is to be afraid of doing things because I am afraid of losing. I agree with a lot of rich dad’s quotations but I seriously do not believe life is all about money. I spoke with my dad after I finished reading the book the first time –I love my dad. He said to me I need to know there are things much more important than money. Family, for instance, is his biggest reward at the end of the day. He said not even his farm, bank account, golf swing, or beach house was as fulfilling as his family. In fact, I hate that rich dad and Kiyosaki are only speaking about money. They let the family in a side. Their world is like an equation to get richer. In the contrary, poor dad was poor economically speaking but richer than any other personally speaking. His family was his greatest reward.

Finally, I have to recognize many things. I started reading the book as a challenge that my dad proposed to me because he wanted me to learn a little bit about money because I spend a lot –I am a compulsive shopping girl. I did learn about money, investments, and how hard money can make people’s life. However, the greatest lesson I could have learnt is “the briar patch is our fear and our greed. Going into our fear and confronting our greed, our weakness, our neediness is the way out. And the way out is through the mind, by choosing our thoughts” (52). Our mind is our best partner. We need to find out ways to improve it. Time is our biggest investment and we need to learn how to make it improve our thoughts. I am reading a new book, The Talent Code, which is about how to improve skills by having deep practice times. Rich Dad Poor Dad is an excellent guide for people to develop a creative mentality.

THE LITERATURE OF WAR: COMPARISON AND CONTRAST

A Shout for the Truth
An In-Class Essay
by Ivete dos Santos

“The first casualty when war comes is truth.” Every country has its anthem that claims its citizens to be brave, patriotic, and, if it is necessary, willing to die for their countries. War is showed as an essential thing to maintain peace, integrity and dignity of a country and its people. Then, everyone has to sacrifice himself for the sake of his motherland. Is it true? Is there only genuine, noble purpose in making war? In “Dulce et Decorum Est,” by Wilfred Owen, and in “Village,” by Estela Portillo Trambley, the picture from war shows to the readers that this belief is a fake, an illusion, and what really can be seen is the big lie that is behind the powerful and eloquent words. Just meaningless words.

In “Dulce,” the speaker depicts a crude reality in World War I, when young men died as “heroes,” according to what those responsible for that war wanted to show to the nations. However, behind this “truth,” what happened , in fact, on the front was juveniles having a terrible and inhumane death. “His hanging face, like a devil’s sick of sin, … the blood/Come gargling from the froth – corrupted lungs” (197). This poem is written in first person and shows exactly what was happening with those “innocent tongues” (197) and the speaker would like to call the people outside to heed and face the reality:“If you could hear, at every jolt, … my friend, you would not tell with such high zest…” (197).

On the other hand, in “Village,” the setting is in the Vietnam War, and the narrator, who is not the protagonist, shows, at the beginning, an anguished “hero” that, not by chance, is called Rico, which means rich. Rico, who “had been transformed into a soldier, but who knew he was no soldier” (177), day by day, discovered that the “truth” about enemies sometimes is merely to justify an action that had no glory, no honor “something beyond the logic of war and enemy…” (177).

Rico knew that in that village there were no enemies, but typical civilians like his village: “people all the same everywhere” (178). “The village of Mai Cao was no different than Valverde, the barrio where he had grown up” (177). How could those people be dangerous? Elders, women, children? However, the “superiors,” who are responsible for the war usually make the soldiers believe that those innocent people are enemies, using ,as a practice, the method of brainwashing “not really peoples’ homes , but ‘hootches,’ …makeshift enemy.” (177). Nonetheless, Rico had knowledge and feelings: “He knew this not only with the mind but with the heart” (178). Therefore, because of that, Rico could act according to his beliefs and, although he had become a traitor, he knew he was completely free, despite the physical prison he had to leave: “I’m free inside…Free…” (182).

Different setting, different time, different protagonist. Nevertheless, the same lie hides the truth. Both stories bring to the reader a shout for the truth. In conclusion, even though most people are against war, it is made for a few powerful people who keep distance from the front. War continues to kill, to cause damage and eternal hurt in thousands of hearts. Then, unfortunately, the old lie “Dulce et decorum est” still lives!

MAY 5, 2011

OUR CLASS: WEEK OF MAY 2, 2011

Yumi, Olga, Christine, Petra, Ivete and Andrea