Merigoesaround

I have: 5 email accounts (gmail first and foremost, hotmail, yahoo, Harvard, MIT) 1 blog I am of course on facebook 1 flickr account How much of my daily time is wired wasted?

May the Democrats flip flop this nation. Pls. Look at the feet of the ladies. How tasteless.

After a year and a half holding the back-to-school status, this semester I decided to take my first 'soft skills' class. Soft skill= cheap psychology classes. Hard skills=anything quantitative or academically solid. The choice is turning out to be a quite interesting cultural exchange. In my negotiation class at MIT I am learning how to negotiate with Americans, with Asians, with Europeans... The other day, in one of the exercises, I sold a land to a Korean student for $150.000 and I thought I had screwed him, "what a good deal", I told myself. Wroooong. It was just a so, so deal. Despite the poor communication skills of the Korean student, he managed to negotiate a price that was good for him. I thought, 'woao, I beated him'. Wrrrong. With Tao, another Asian students, things went much better...I sold him an old car for 3 times my minimum selling price. Americans are more conciliatory. They generally want to be nice. How overused the word 'nice' is in ...

I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.

Life is this. 3.03 a.m. I am back from a farmer’s party. I was a cowgirl. Pictures to follow. I have to thank Santa Helena. I might call my daughter Helena. Let me elaborate. I went to the party with Francesco, one of my three roommates. We were in a hurry and took a cab. After the party, back home I realized that my cell was missing. It is something annoying to loose the cell, you loose those numbers that you care about, you loose the phone itself now you’ve learnt to like it, even if it is too big, too small, too cheap... We put the house upside down looking for the cell, thinking that maybe it was at home, under a cushion. After 30 minutes I had a moment of craziness and decided to go to the street and look for a yellow cab. That’s all I remembered. The taxi was yellow and the taxi driver was from the Middle East. I walked down Brattle and I crossed the local police guys. They told me “hey, cool cowboy boots”. I explained to them what had happened and they called a couple of taxi nu...

I asked my friend Luis. “So, tell me, why do you want to work for McKinsey?” - Because of the set of skills I will acquire - The money. I need to repay my loan - The name in my resume …Luis answered. He is a student from Peru studying at the Kennedy School of Government. Of Government, I repeat. What he did not tell me is that he had worked for the government for 3 years and he was disenchanted by what he saw.

Maybe because I am in the second year of my Masters one of the most popular topics of discussion among my friends is: how much do you think we are going to make when we graduate? Do you want to work for the good guys (the public sector, the NGOs, non-profits) or for the bad ones (McKinsey, investment banks)? Well, the(my) truth is that you can make more money than you need in both sectors. Another truth that some people do not yet see is that there are no bad or good guys, or, more specifically, you do not become a bad person if you work as a management consultant and earn a lot of money. The real question here is how much money do you need to have a confortable, normal life? What is normal? Am I going to be able to write this blog posting? The answer is NO.

Happy North Americans. Americans and Canadians appear to be the happiest people in the world. At least according to the satisfaction with life index*. The green and the blue colors indicate extreme happinest and the red loads of misery. The map supports my expectations. American society penalizes people that are negative or feel miserable. The customer service smile and happy voice is a must. Whoever is not feeling the joy of life can find it in an anti-depressant, mood-enhancer pill. Russians turn to be among the least happy people of the world. They also have their own home made anti-depressant, vodka, but it seems to be of limited effects. You can be happy if you try...and more important, you also need to suffer a little bit to recognize what happiness feels like. *Not sure how this is computed but shows the correlations between happiness and health

I was in the Public Speaking clinic of professor Danziger and a Finnish student found the courage to stand up and practice a mini speech, which is the purpose of this seminar. The Finn talked about the typical topical Eurotrash theme: why Europe is better than the US. After his speech professor Danziger said, 'Thanks. Every year a bunch of European students talk about this subject.'. I felt different While the Finnish student was belittling the US I was thinking, 'ok, I'll go next and explain why Europeans like or can learn to like the US'. I did not have time to intervene, but hereby some of the arguments I will use in next week's seminar: - European inaction in any international conflict. Yes, we do believe in soft measures, diplomacy...while we wait, the US acts. They go and eat the cake...while we haven't bought the ingredients to bake it. - Italian espresso is very tasty and sitting in a Roman terrace while sipping a coffee is unbeatable…but to walk hol...

It felt warm. I looked upstairs and I saw a black sparrow. It was not rain. No snowflakes in October either. A MIT sparrow shit on my hair. Yesterday was a really weird day until the black bird decided to popoo on me. First I lost my cell phone. I was already thinking that it is quite normal on me to loose things and strangely I had not lost anything for a while...when suddenly an American lady called my friend Ursula saying that she had found a cell phone. More than 3000 miles away, in Barcelona, same day, probably same time, my dad's cell phone was stolen. He was standing 3 metres away from his car, which was open. His cellphone was laying on the passenger's seat. Somebody took it from there in a matter of 30 seconds. This strange coincidence made me think that few people would have called had I lost my phone in Spain. The sequence of weird events did not end up there. I was in MIT to attend the International Development Fair, apart from some good ideas the Fair had a buffet....

Movie. 1998. From favorite Sunday evening family movie to...reality. Parent Trap was translated into 'Tu a Boston y yo a California' in Spanish. The story of two sisters who grew up in different places. My sister and I are grown ups...but I am in Boston and she'll be in California starting next June. Apart from the logical proudness I feel this message aims to convey more information than that. Grants, Schoolarships, Stipendium...I am proud of being a Spaniard in that sense (and it might be one of the few...). Spain offers a real chance to study thanks to grants, the number of public and private organizations allocating funds to help students like me, like her, like many, many others I know..to fill our brains with new ideas is enormous. And yeah, I have no indicator to prove that... Maybe I should ask la Caixa, our sponsor. They've been giving scholarships to study in the USA for 1/4 of a century...and guess what!? La Caixa is a Bank. A Catalan bank which uses part of ...

I'll do it tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow, knowing tomorrow I won't do it. Maybe writing these short posting (while in class) I re-initiate my blog addiction. It is feeling good, feeling myself explaining my self.

Life in Benin is so stressful that I need to practice yoga a couple of times per week. False. Life is absolutely not stressful...the amount of things one can do apart from resto-going is limited. Specially in terms of practicing sports. During the first week here I told myself...ok, let's go running and burn some toxins...the next question was, running where?, which direction? from where to where? There are no parks over here, the roads are bumpy and full of mud right now. So, running does not seem like a good idea. Also, you sweat so much, so quickly... Naaah, running was out of the list the first day. Swimming is temporary out of the list too, since I get sick with mini-colds every week. Then I thought I could use the projector to do some yoga with virtual Sarah Ivanhoe (see us both in the picture) and then I found another DVD with Claudia Schiffer giving me instructions on how to build my stomach muscles. And that's about sport's life in Benin. I've been playing tenn...

Mr. Sachs is in Benin. When I learnt he was coming to Cotonou I fantasized of going to the airport wearing my Harvard hoodie and a banner saying "Sachs Sucks, Harvard Rocks!"...but then a) I discoverd that he was coming by road from Lome and b) I do not dislike the guy so much and enjoyed his writings (and work) on Poland. Now Jeff, as my KSG teachers call him, is trying to sell the world his Millenium Villages project. According to UN info the idea behind this is that impoverished villages can transform themselves and meet the MDGs provided they are supported with powerful, practical, proven technologies. "By investing in health, food production, education, access to clean water, and essential infrastructure, these community-led interventions will enable impoverished villages to escape extreme poverty, something that currently confines over 1 billion people worldwide". Sachs' stuff Hum... As much as I believe in microprojects and subsidiarity...Jeff, I do not s...

I understand modern nomadic life. Isn't my life kind of nomadic? peripatetic? (as my friend Sophie Brown would say) Traditional nomadism is another thing. No Samsonites. Peuhls are nomads. Strong herders and shepherds. Peuhl girls and boys do not go to school. Some donors are currently considering how to provide education to the Peuhl minority in Benin (and in other Western African countries). I find these shocks between western and traditional mentalities/customs very annoying. Maybe annoying is not the word. It is just such a difficult issue to tackle that I lose fuel from the beginning. Here a picture of a Peuhl cheese seller. Peuhls only marry among themselves, Beninese think the people of this minority are probably one of the most beautiful in Western Africa.

Have you ever seen a cameleon!? I saw my first ever cameleon the other day. In Bembereke. The driver suddenly stopped the car and said: Cameleon! I am going to have good luck today. At first, I did not want to get off the car to take a picture...somehow I thought a cameleon was as big as a crocodile. And as dangerous. Then the courageous side of me opened the door and saw this: Good luck.

Last week I went up north. We left with 4 long hours of delay. Just to stick to the African tempo. Benin has surprisingly average-to-good roads and arriving to Djogou was not as painful as I'd expected. Once 700km away from Cotonou the adventure started. The purpose of the mission was for me to understand UNICEFs educational interventions in Benin. I am not sure if I understand the program yet...but I am positive I now understand the constraints much better. I was totally unprepared for this mission. Mentally and in terms of equipment (chocolate bars I missed you!?! I missed sugar in general). This is the kind of menu that filled my stomach during five days... Igname (kind of enormous potato) puree and meat in a spicy peanut sauce. You normally eat this in little restaurants called 'maquis'. It feels tremendously selfish to say that I did not like that food...most of the people in the regions I visited cannot afford eating that. It was the first time I noticed people were h...

In Benin there is a very high percentage of children that work or/and trafficked to neighboring Nigeria. Another reason why Beninese hate Nigerians. The stats do not come as a surprise to me. Just visually, the first time I visited Benin I was amazed by the amount of children you can find e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e*. Condoms, where are you?? You see those little human bodies with (often) swollen stomach and shaved heads on every corner. I love when they smile to me, those shining teeth faces. Sadly, I see 5 of these little creatures treated as slaves every morning. Just in front of my front door. They are building a garage for a neighbor. The image of a 6-year old wearing a XXL rapper t-shirt and old plastic flip-flops carrying a piece of stone too big for him to carry is dramatic, specially when I am leaving the house to go to work with UNICEF!! Childhood is not fun. Adolescence inexistent. Adulthood is too hard. Life is too short. *Fertility rate...around 6 kids per woman, average!!

In Benin there are multiple local languages. Among them, Fon is the most commonly used. Especially in Cotonou. My colleagues at work speak something like Fonçais…Fon and Français. It sounds really musical. ‘A fon fandia’ for good morning. ‘Kunao’ for thank you. ‘Orabo’ means bye. And seems impossible to learn. There is one word that I now very well though…Yoboba. White girl. I am the Yoboba of the office. There are some other Yobos, but not many (6 out of 60?). This is being a great multicultural experience. Today I went to a Chinese restaurant with my Beninese colleagues to sing karaoke (pictures with Nadine, Estelle and Olga). I am eating willy and tibi with a sort of Tabasco sauce for breakfast, one is like sweet potatoe the other a very fibrous, hard to chew potatoe with absolutely no taste. Both fried. Healthy breakfast, right? The worst was when I found myself singing religious songs in the office with my colleague Nadine. Benineses are very religious, they have it all, animistic...