Martes el trece #1

1.¿Adónde fue él cuando se rompió el brazo?

He went to the hospital when he broke his arm

Él fue al hospital cuando él rompió el brazo.

2.¿Por qué llegó tarde él a la escuela?

He arrived late because he missed (perder) the bus

Él llegó tarde porque él perdió el autobus.

3.¿Por qué pensó él que el miércoles sea(would be) mejor día?

Because his friend gave him good news about his wallet

Porque su amigo le dio buenas noticias sobre su billetera

4.¿Por qué recibió una detención en la clase de ciencias?

He received a detention because he talked too much(demasiado) in science class

Él recibió una detención porque él habló demasiado en la clase de ciencias

5.¿Qué comió él para el almuerzo?

He didn’t eat nothing for lunch. (remember, in Spanish, you want to answer with a double negative here)

No, él no comió nada para el almuerzo

Morning Routine

Primero, yo me despierto a las siete de la mañana. Entonces, yo me levanto a las siete y quince. Después yo me levanto, yo me visto entonces yo me arreglo el pelo. Luego yo me pongo el desodorante. Voy a la escuela a las siete y cuarenta y cinco.

First Week of School

My first week was pretty good. I didn’t have a lot of homework so that was just peachy. I also got to miss school Thursday and Friday for a volleyball tournament, where we placed 4th overall.

Blog Post #6

Sally always has to “change clothes, and go,” whenever she gets to school. She says her father’s religion is too strict, so she tells herself to “express yourself,” when she looks in the mirror. Although Sally was abused, she decided to “shatter every window till it’s all blown away,” married a man, and moved away. All Sally wanted was a little “R-E-S-P-E-C-T,” from the men in her life. She cries out to her husband “why does love always have to be a battlefield?” but the battle between them continue. Due to Sally always betraying Esperanza, I bet Esperanza thought Sally’s “smiling face show[ed] no traces of the evil that lurk[ed] within” because “smiling faces sometimes don’t tell the truth.” Sally was once “young and beautiful,” but time and abuse has aged her. Although Sally is still being abused by her husband, she’s not “where she wants to be, but [she’s] better than [she] used to be.” No matter what people do to Sally, she has always been confident and told people, “I won’t give up on [you], even if the skies get rough.” Despite some people’s beliefs, Sally was definitely not the “perfect all-american girl.” She struggled with insecurity and finding a place in society, unlike the “barbie girls in [their] barbie world[s].

Blog Post #5

http://http://kamlajetlytrust.com/gallery/poverty-india/

 

Credit:Kamla Jetly Trust, Charitable Trust(Regd.)

I chose this photo to reflect the thematic motif of piverty because it resembles how happy people can be despite their circumstances. For example, in Sandra Cisneros novel “The House on Mango Street,” Esperanza and her friend Meme Ortiz host the “First Annual Tarzan Jumping Contest”(Cisneros 22). Although the backyard is a mostly dirt and has start boards lying in a heap, Esperanza and Meme find use of the things they have, like the tree, and Ouse it to have fun. They don’t look at the ugliness of their surrounding, but look instead at the beautiful things and make the most children. The children in the photo, like Esperanza and Meme, don’t look at the poverty surrounding them, but look at the foand in front of them and are thankful for it. I believe that when you sour round yourself with friends your are both in poverty, you don’t sulk or feel sorry for yourself as much as you would without friends.

Blog Post #4

FOR SALE: WOODEN MUSIC BOX WITH BRASS RECORD

 

Note from Owner: In great condition. Located at Gil’s Furniture on Mango Street. Has the prettiest sound and song. Finally willing to sale to owner with good intentions. Needs to go because my store is going out of business.

Blog Post #2

Dear Sally,

Hope things are going good with your husband and family. You really are missed here at Mango street. Things just arent’t the same without you. You always brought so much adventure and excitment to our neighborhood and without you it’s boring! How is your husband? It’s crazy to think that he just got up and moved you away. I really hope he doesn’t read your mail because I have some things to tell you. When we were kids, why did you always change clothes and put makeup on at school? I know you said your father said your religion was strict, but are you sure it wasn’t to have some sort of freedom from his domain? So that he couldn’t have control over aspect of your life? You should have stayed with me and my family when you had the chance. We would have loved having you, but I understand you wanting to give your dad a second chance. I just wanted to let you know that I respect you a lot. You have been through a lot. A hard home life, struggling with your identity and fe here you belong in this world, and by guess is an abusive husband. You really are an awesome woman and I was so blessed with the time we had together. You taught me to respect myself, to stay away from scary men, and how to be independent. I miss you and hope to see you soon.

Much love,

Esperanza

 

Blog Post #1

In the novel “The House on Mango Street,” Sandra Cisneros use of imagery in the vignette “Hips” reveals the theme of identity and self-definition. For example, when Rachel, Lucy and Esperanza came together to jump rope, they ended up talking about their hips and how they apparently grew in overnight.  Each girl takes her turn telling what they think hips are useful for. “They’re good for holding a baby when you’re cooking, Rachel says”(Cisneros 49). Lucy says “you need them to dance”(49). “If you don’t get them you may turn into a man”(49) Nenny says. Esperanza thinks that “hips are scientific…it’s the bones that let you know which skeleton was a man’s when it was a man and which was a woman’s”(50). By giving these immature hypothesis and visions of hips, the girls reveal their lack of knowledge and growing insecurity in their hips. As the girls grow and mature, the only thing they know to do is believe whatever Alicia says because she goes to school and is smart. These girls, like most girls, grow up believing whatever they hear older people say. Due to the fact that they don’t want to talk to their parents about their changing bodies, they grow insecure and decide to talk about it with friends and make up silly stories.

Photo Vignette

English vignette picture

It was 5:30am in Mookane, Botswana, the time my brother George wakes all the kids up. I rub the sleepiness out of my eyes and roll out of bed. My sister Alice always tells me that I’m going to push my eyes deeper and deeper into my head if I keep rubbing them, but I do it anyways. Our family has six members; Papa, Mama, my two older brothers George and Paul, my sister Alice and me the youngest. I’m kind of like the “black sheep” of the family. I get everyone’s old, worn out clothes and shoes. Today, I decide to wear my nicest clothes; George’s old tennis shoes that my big toes and pinky toes hang out of, Paul’s old khaki shorts that I have to use a rope to keep from falling of me, and Alice’s once white shirt that has faded to a light brown color, kind of like the color of the dirt we use as our floor. Papa calls us to hurry to the table for breakfast. Because me and my siblings all share a room, it is a mad dash towards the door. They remind me of hyennas running after prey and it scares me, so I wait until the fight is over. I call out to Alice save me a seat by you please! I grab Sissy, my stuffed elephant and best friend, and head to breakfast. When I go in, Papa looks at me with disapproval and asks when I am going to get rid of Sissy. I am no longer a child he tells me. In these moments, I see Papa as Cruella DeVille, trying to steal my happiness away from me. I take my seat beside Alice and look at the bowl in front of me. Our breakfast this morning, like every other morning, is goolosh. Every morning Mama gets oats, grinds them with a stone, and puts water in them. On special days when Mama finds it, we have a little bit of cinnamon with our goolosh. I always think that Mama has somehow gathered clouds, made them look dirty, and put them in the bowl. I can always dream, right? Today is Tuesday, which means it’s water day. Every Tuesday, every family in our village is allowed a single pot of water for each member of the family. Most of the time, we run out of water because there are six of us. Then Papa has to give George away for a while. For what I don’t know. I’ve heard Paul say that he is working for someone so we can get more water, but I think that he just wants to get away from Paul. You look nice today, Mama tells me. I can’t help but look down at my toes hanging out of my shoes, like they are playing hide-and-seek with me. I tell Mama thank you and go back to eating my goolosh. Our house is small. Three rooms, no washroom, and no windows. Mama and Papa always talk about how one day we will have a house with stairs and enough rooms that no one has to share a room and a house that has a tub and a real kitchen. This will probably never happen, but one can always dream. Once we have washed the dishes, Papa tells us to grab our pot and stand outside until he gets there. So we run off like wild banshies to our pots, then out the door to wait on Mama and Papa. While we wait, I sit with Sissy and play house. I pretend Sissy is my pet, George and Paul are two angry men fighting for me, and Alice is my best friend. It would be nice to have a best friend in real life, but Papa says that everyone outside of our house is bad. Papa and Mama finally come out of the house and we head in single file, Papa in front and Mama in back, to the church. I can’t help but think that we are a train heading to pick up a load to take to another town. Toot toot, I say and Alice looks at me with her you’re-going-to-get-in-trouble-if-you-don’t-stop glare. When we finally arrive at the church, there are already seven families ahead of us. Papa always tells us to stand as still as statues when we are in line, but I hear something coming from the front of the line. I lean to my right to see what is going on. A man is on his knees crying and begging for the Pastor to give him another pot of water. He says his wife is sick at home and can’t get out of bed. The man stays there on his knees begging the pastor for mercy, but the pastor ignores him and moves on to the next person. Mama sees me peeking at the man and slaps my arm. You know Papa doesn’t like you to be nosy like that, she says. I’m glad it was Mama who slapped me. Her slaps are like a puppy’s wet tongue licking me compared to Papa’s. When it is finally our turn to get water, the pastor shakes Papa’s hand and pulls him away from the rest of us to talk. George always says that the pastor is asking when he can receive George’s help again, but I don’t know if that is true or not. When Papa and the pastor finish their conversation, we each fill our pots with water. When it is my turn, the pastor grabs my wrist smiles at me. His teeth remind me of the junebugs that fly around in our house. Here you go little girl, he tells me. My face gets hot and I’m embarrassed, but I tell him thank you and get back in line behind Alice. When we finally get home, Papa tells us that the pastor offered to buy George, but he had refused his offer. Mama then tells us that it is better to have little and have a whole family than have everything but no family to share it with. Mama sure is a smart woman.

My Best Friend

My best friend Bethany is an awesome girl. She plays volleyball, softball, tennis, and is a devout Christian. Her faith is seemingly unshakeable and due to that, we are accountability partners which only strengthens our friendship. Our friendship didn’t come about by any conditions or funny situations, it just happened. Bethany and my sister were friends before me and Bethany became friends, so we met when Allison invited her to go to the movies. From then on, Bethany, Allison, and I were “three peas in a pod.” Due to our bust schedules, we don’t get to hang out a lot, but when we do it is unforgettable. Every time we get together, something bizarre or hilarious happens. One time we all decided that we wanted to try and wall twerk and..well…we all slipped on a rug and busted our faces. Bethany is unlike any other friend I have; she is honest, trustworthy, and faithful, but she can also be funny, sarcastic, and plain crazy. The reason our friendship is so strong is because there has never been any drama between us. She is a straight-up person and will tell you what is on her mind. I took her dress shopping with me recently and I could depend on her to tell me if it looked good or bad, not lie and say it looked just because we are best friends. Our friendship is more valuable to me than almost anything. There is never a situation I can bring to her that she doesn’t have a solution to. She is wise beyond her years. When I have a religious-based question, she always knows just what to say. There’s no way I could ever replace her friendship. Me and Beth