i needed to leave the house today. its tense. the combo of last night and this morning has made things tenser and my mental anticipation of what is going to to happen today is making it worse.

last night yassir put on some rap from the states and asked me if i liked it, i told him no, told him why, fran came home minutes later and asked me the same, then ronmel came home and got the hat trick and then i became upset, felt upset and my tone of voice had probably changed. translate the words yassir said, fran said i couldnt that i didnt know how to translate it into spanish, didnt know the words. that did not help my mood. yassir asked me again to translate, again if i liked it, cause it was cool. i said no, i dont like this music, i like hip hop and not rap, this has no melody, no compliment, no depth. again he asked for a translation, and so i gave it to him. the band was talking about drugs, selling and using them, talking about violence and fighting, talking about how you´ve got to fuck people up to get the top - yeah, im about to stereotype - but normal lyrics found in popular rap music. so i told them, yeah they are saying 'fuck everything, do drugs, steal things, and be violent.' and 'that this music is garbages and those rappers are parasites' i was visibly pissed and frustrated with what happened.

upset that they kept badgering me about shit, upset that they assumed i couldnt translate the song cause i didnt know enough, and that these assholes from the states are influencing the way yassir, the poor as dirt 15 year old from nicaragua, is going to see the US, going to shape his worldview, and influence the way he interacts with other men, women, and gringos. not in good ways.

whats worse: when during semana santa(holy week) fran and ronmel are drunk for hours straight and then invite me to go watch reggeaton videos with them, i say no the first time and then accept the second offer hours later when they are less drunk. in the states, when i watch music videos or tv I can seperate the reality from the fantasy and i understand that is just a video, a story, or a dream. there are people who cant do that in the states. In my family here, no one knows the difference between the real US and the music videos, magazines, or movies they watch. I sat through about 20 minutes of bling bling, booty shaking, high end booze drinking, money flashing, gambling, fancy car driving, expensive clothes wearing posturing by the rappers. i listened to fran and jay(cousin) argue about which rapper belongs to which label or which group they affiliate with as the five of us sit in an adobe hut, with a dirt floor, with one bed made up almost entirely of blankets, card board and newspapers, another bed smashed against the wall and more bed like but still not anything to put on mtv cribs, there is no working door here, one light bulb held by the electrical cord and holes between the roof and ceiling and if you really pushed hard enough you could kick through the adobe walls.

it was in this setting that i listened to my host brothers argue about which rapper is better or who belongs to what group, or to imitate the gang signs flashed or pretend to be singing along. this is coming from someone who had to leave his own country to find a job, fran, and has been held up by gangs in el salvador, this is coming from people who live in dirt floored buildings have outdoor kitchens, share a shower with 7 other people and shit in a latrine. and who are being paid to house a gringo in their best room.

its was in this context that i became so enraged last night, shakingly so. it was bad. i hate this shit, i hate watching yassir pretend he is gangster because his actual opportunities are horrendous, depressing and chances are he aint going no where. so as he and fran glorify gangsters and violence and then assume i cant translate what some dumb fucks from nyc are saying and then have them invite me to the 'girlfriend' who only charges 50 cords for fuck and thats cheap, yassir says by touching his elbow. its this fucking context that im living in right now and this is whats supporting my anger this morning.

why? yassir walks by marcelita(2 year old) and fake swings at her, she moves to get out of the way and stumbles, falling into the concrete sink. yassir keeps walking. marcela(grandmother) notices and turns and hits yassir with a plate for doing that. i applaud in my head. yassir turns and yells at her, then he asks me if i saw him hit her, i say nothing while thinking that while he didnt hit her, he made her fall and the result is the same. but i still said nothing, marcela asks what do i have to do it with it, yassir says i have eyes and that counts. i have to get up and go.

to where? my room, all the windows and doors open, the same room marcela uses to sew and cook in sometimes, the same room marcelita plays in. its not my room, its the living room converted into a bed room for three months. and i know that i could not stay there any longer if i take the position with Centro. the culture clash is so much and so intense to take everyday that i...its really hard, to live there and to watch life and to stay apart, intentionally for self protection and to make sure that i do not disturb too much or affect too much what is going on.

i want to be a part but i want to be apart.