Delta Venus

Despite the fact that I've lived in Davis all my life, I was completely unaware of the music culture the city has to offer until this evening. I received a call from a friend telling me they were heading to one of the local coffee shops to listen to a friend play the saxaphone and asking if I would like to join. Naturally, I said yes. I even asked my parents to tag along.

I usually don't have time for social activities and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to catch up with an old friend and do something different. After having dinner I called my friend up and asked her where we should meet. She said that the band she initially was going to see was having an off night and it would be best if we headed to Delta Venus, a small coffee shop wedged between an AM PM and a funeral home.

Three bands were lined up to play and she thought there were be a couple of good sets. I've never really been into music - I listen to it, of course, and I know names of my favorite bands and songs, but I don't know the culture of listening and searching for the unknown bands. I also didn't know that Davis had a place like Delta Venus. I'd only been there during the day for breakfast with friends and had never taken the time to enjoy the environment that establishment had to offer.

The first band had just finished there set when I arrived. I noticed the walls were covered with unique peices of artwork, variying in style and size. After close inspection I realized some were for sale. I'd seen that at various other coffee shops around town, but never really thought about it. A small area in the back was set aside for the band; the new band was starting to set their gear up.

I asked my friend if this was a normal thing for the coffee house and she said yes. I later found out that many other establishments did the same thing by offering local bands a chance to play: G Street Pub, Cantina, Little Prauge, Borders, Cafe Roma, Bistro 33, and The Graduate.

Not only did Delta Venus offer their patrons art, good music, and great food, but they even offered the use of various boardgames. As a band called Spider Friends played a mellow rock tune a group of college students played scrabble. And it wasn't just college students. A father and his young daughter were enjoying the music and later had a noise filled game of battleship.

It was really enjoyable. I didn't realize that a place like that even existed. A place to hang out with friends, enjoy their company, and possibly discover your next favorite band or artist.

Next time I or any of my friends need to find something to do, I'll tell them that we should go check out what's happening down at Delta Venus - because right now I'm happy listening to the free CD that the Spider Friends handed out after their performance and the mocha I had definitely hit the spot.

Flyers

Sacramento, California - The library quad is littered with people, specifically people with flyers. At the beginning of each semester it's the exact same thing. In order to get from one end of the quad to the other, it's necessary to face the gauntlet of fraternities, sororities, special interest groups, and of course 24 Hour Fitness. It's interesting, no amusing, to see the various techniques that both prey and predator use in order to survive.

So what are the most common techniques to avoid the unwanted?

1. The White Rabbit

When passing through it's best to look as though you know where you are going. It's even better if you look like you're running late; anxious glances at your watch are always a nice touch. At the beginning of the semester no one is going to doubt your sincerity. If you're ever in doubt, it's okay to run.

2. Take It and Trash It

Sometimes walking quickly isn't enough. There are those who will chase after you, papers flapping in their hand and before you know it you've been "flyered." In order to avoid the speech that accompanies the flyer, most students have learned to not only walk briskly, but also occasionally stick out a hand to take the flyer. Once the paper goes from one hand to another the naive predator feels as though they've won something, namely you. Little do they know that their flyer will not be appreciated. The experienced have learned to take the paper, count to ten and shove it in the nearest trash, pocket, or bag.

3. The Cell Phone Wanderer

Others have learned to avoid the flyers completely by striking up a conversation on their cell phone while passing through. This is possibly the best way to avoid any unwanted solicitors. Most people will respect your privacy, allowing you to amble through without a care in the world. But beware; there are those who will interrupt that important call with mom.

Now how does one counter these techniques. There are variety of ways to draw anyone of the aforementioned quarry back into your domain.

1. The Fuzzy Wuzzy

There aren't many who can pass up something fuzzy. Any type of pet is a sure bait, especially for the fairer sex. Beware however, that your furry friend will get more attention than your organization.

2. "Free" Candy For Your Soul

Most college students can't pass up food, especially when it's free and fattening. All you need to do is exchange that tootsie pop for an email address or phone number and the promise that they'll "think about it." It's a good idea to offer food that requires time to eat, that way you're ensured a certain amount of time to make them hear you out.

3. Now You See It, Now You Don't

By far the most innovated technique was used by James as we tabled out on the quad for Alpha Phi Omega. We only had one flyer, because our chapter is not only small (only comprising of six actives), but also cheap. So in order to sign up prospective pledges without losing the flyer, James came up with the brilliant idea of shocking people in order to get their attention.

James would wait for his prey, casually holding out our only flyer, baiting the unsuspecting Take It and Trash It. Once they'd go for the bait, James would quickly snatch it away and ask, "Are you really interested?"

I didn't believe until I saw, but it worked.

"It really shocks people," he told. "And makes them actually want to listen." And most do listen intently to what he has to say about our Co-Ed National Service Fraternity on campus. And while he received his fair share of rejections, he took it all in stride, "At least they're honest. Plus this way we only sign up those who really are into it."

Friends

Davis, Calif. - Sometimes I forget how incredibly lucky I am to know such awesome people. Fortunately I was able to remind myself this past Saturday when Devin hosted one of our gatherings. As usual he made his amazing pizza, Alex made his tamales, and I brought a bottle of coke and some sort of snack (this time it was Fudgecicles).

It wasn't a movie night, but instead a night of creativity and thought. Rachel worked on her LARP costume and ended up making the coolest mask for one of her mage characters. Aaron sharpened his knives on Devin's wetstones and worked on his knots. Alex made his famous tamales and surprised with some horchata; if I remember correctly I told Alex I loved him about 8 times that night. Carola worked on some knitting before running off to catch some sleep. Devin worked on his chainmaille, which is looking really awesome. He's got a good portion of the chest done as well as the shoulders and parts of the sleeves. Rachel's boyfriend, along with Alex, bummed around on the internet and I read "Empire" by Orson Scott Card. It was a really enjoyable evening.

What I love best about getting together like that is that while we do our own things we end up getting into some great debates and conversations. I really like the fact that we challenge each other to think about various issues. We don't always agree, but we're all extremely open to new thoughts and ideas. I'm usually the first to admit that I really hadn't thought about something in a particular way.

I suppose these debates and random thoughts are due to Aaron. He always throws out his ideas and starts the conversation going. And while we get into the a discussion on defining heritage, ethnicity, nationality, and racism we can easily joke around at the same time. It's just a room of people doing what they enjoy and at the same time throwing out ideas and thoughts. Usually they're the ideas that you don't talk about often - the ideas that you think about while you're on the John or when you're unable to sleep. Thoughts you don't usually share with anyone except your significant other. I really like that.

I ended up finishing Empire last night. I really enjoyed it. Just like my friends it challenged me to think about and even question my own ideals. I questioned whether or not I fall into the trap of stereotyping when I try desperately not to.

At the same time it scared me, because I have met people who go to the extreme when it comes to their political and religious beliefs. It's scary to think that one person can carry so much fear and so much hate for a certain set of people.

Anyways, I'm starting to ramble due to the hour and I should try to get some sleep.

scrap (x) scrap

My Design Fundamentals class at SCC last fall pushed me to find out about my uncle. I knew the story, at least at the time I thought I knew the story. During my research and investigation I found out that I really didn't know anything at all. In fact, I was rather oblivious to everything.

My art teacher assigned us a final project: to create a series of work (at least 3), which tied together. The theme could be anything we wanted. At first I had absolutely no idea what to do. I worked on an abstract charcoal series, but found it to be more of an exploration than anything else. Finally I decided after looking through some of my mother's old photographs that I would do a series on my uncle: he has the most amazing eyes.

When I told my mother what I was doing she gave me a manila envelope containing scraps of old newspapers, old photographs of the family, and various other documents that related to my uncle's disappearance. I had never seen any of these things. I didn't know that my mother had written to congressmen about her brother's situation. I didn't know that after my uncle's disappearance my grandmother's house had been raided by La Guardia. I didn't know.

And it was when I was reading a large feature on my mother and uncle in the Davis Enterprise that a sudden sense of despair and sadness hit me.

Initially, three men grabbed Vargas as he walked along the street, witnesses related. When he resisted the others joined the trio, and the men began hitting him with the butts of their guns.
They tied Vargas' hands behind his back, gagged him and three him inside the van, then drove away. - The Davis Enterprise

It may have been the feature's cartoon depictions or the manner in which the article was written, but I was suddenly stung with the harsh reality of things: my uncle was gone. I may have never met him, but he was a person. And we shared the same blood. Perhaps that's what got me, the realization that not only was he real, but he was also my mother's brother.

At first I started compiling a book of dates and facts. Visually mapping out the actions of my mother's family and also important dates during the war. I immersed myself in the time period trying to understand.

I'm still trying to understand. I listen to stories that my mom tells about her brothers and sister. I'm trying to find out who he is.

Non So

No lo so. Tutte le cose sono bene, ma penso che devi sentire megliore. Si? Le classe sono bene. Mi piace i miei professori; anche me piace le classe. Pero no so se sono preparato per questo simestre, tutte le classe hanno molto lavoro. Ma e' possibile che pensi pui che devi.

Non e' importante.

Anche ho i problemi con i soldi. Non so se il mio padre me paghera'. Non ho i soldi per porre il gas nel mio auto.

Meh. Devo dormire, ho esame domani.

Imagine

You're thirty-one-years-old, a successful doctor El Salvador. It's December and you're glad to be off work to go do some Christmas shopping. You cross the street. You think about what you'll get each of siblings. You smile at a few people passing, but otherwise seem absorbed in your thoughts. You don't even notice the group of men holding machine guns, afterall they're as common on the streets now as stray dogs. And then everything changes.

Three men have surrounded you. Before you know it they've secured your arms behind your back tightly. You struggle, dropping your medical bag. Another man walks over. You keep resisting.

The last thing you see is the butt of a an M-16.

People from your office and those who witnessed this abduction later tell your family that the men continued to beat you until they were positive you wouldn't get up. Your family learned that these men bound your hands and legs, gagging you so when you awoke you wouldn't be able to call out. How many people watched as they tossed you in the back of a truck, like a bag of garbage, before driving off? Regardless, every single person looked down and kept walking, praying that next time it wouldn't be them or one of their loved ones.

The people you love don't know where you are. They try desperately to find out the answer to the biggest question of all: why? Why would they have taken you away? Government officials are contacted, as friends and family search for you. But you're gone. We don't know where you are, we just pray - and hope. And after twenty-five years, we still hope that somewhere you're alive, that you're safe, and that someday you'll come home.

You've become one of the desaparecidos, the dissapeared. A collective group that were abducted during the Cold War throughout Central and South America during times of revolutions and civil unrest.

Carlos Vargas is part of this group. He was adbucted in December of 1981. This blog is about him; about me finding out about him. This is about a man and his family. It's also about a time period many people have forgotten and which few will ever forget. This is about a girl finding out why she never had the chance to meet her uncle.