Vitamins

So, I'm taking an online health course right now. I just started the 'Nutrition' section of it, and I found some interesting stuff about vitamins. I thought I'd share... just cuz.

Did you know...
- that if you don't get enough vitamin A, you can get night blindness, excessively dry skin, and dry eyes due to malfunctioning tear glands. But if you get too MUCH vitamin A it can interfere with your growth, menstruation, and cause headaches, nausea, and jaundice. (That doesn't sound like much fun...)

- vitamin D is the only vitamin your body produces on it's own! (Hip hip hooray for our body!)

- There are 8 B vitamins. Vitamin B1=Thiamine, vitamin B2=Riboflavin, B3=Niacin, B6=Pyridoxine, B12=Cobalamin, and Folic acid, Pantothenic acid, and Biotin. (why do only 5 of them have numbers - and not even in the right order! Can't you people count? Sheesh.)

- Vitamin C is also called ascorbic acid. Found in lots of fruit and veggies (but citrus fruits are the BEST!!! or fresh strawberries... yum...)

- Vitamin D is used in the body to retain calcium and phosphorus. (That seems weird to me... phosphorus is the glowing stuff that you see when you dig in the sand at the beach at night. If you've never done that, you need to!)

- The use of Vitamin E in the body is "not clearly established" but it's an essential element in more than 20 vertebrate species! (HEAR THAT! That means PEOPLE too! Eat it folks!)

- Vitamin K is used in the coagulation of blood and is most plentiful in alfalfa and fish livers. (Yum yum. =P actually, ick, ick and double dutch ick.)

- Unless otherwise told, the best sources of all these vitamins are in NATURAL SOURCES! Not pills, but veggies and fruit and food stuff. Not pills. Not ever pills. No pills. Have I made that clear? No? Ok, NOT PILLS!!! I only put that pick up because it kinda worked with what I'm talking about.

So those are the main vitamins we need to stay healthy in our BODIES... what about spiritually? There are 'vitamins' that are much more important for us - and they can be found in fruit too: the Fruit of the Spirit.
Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.
So that was my random 'lesson' for the day. Sorry readers, I haven't had a creative writing spree for a while. I'll get one soon, no worries! Keep reading!
Salama.

How to Speak French: Lesson One

So Verja, I'm gonna give you a little bitty lesson on how to speak one of the most beautiful and romantic languages in the world (in my humble opinion of course). =)

To aid in my lesson, I'll introduce you to Jean and Marie. (Jean is a boys name and is the English equivalent of John. the 'ean' in Jean is pronounced like the 'o' in on. Marie of course, is the English equivalent of Mary.)

First off, are the greetings:
Jean: Bonjour, Marie. (Hello Marie)
Marie: Bonjour, Jean. Comment ça va? (Hello Jean. How are you?)
Jean: Ça va bien, merci. Et toi? (I'm fine thanks. And you?)
Marie: Ça va. (I'm fine)


Thank you Jean and Marie! Now, bonjour is a fairly well known French word, n'est pas? (is it not?) Comment is the question word in the sentence. It means 'how' and is pronounced co-mo[n]. NOT like the word comment or common. The first 'o' is LONG and the second 'o' has the silent-ish 'n' added to the end.

Ça va (said sah-vah) literally means 'it goes'. With the comment added before it it means literally 'how's it going?' Marie responds with ça va bien which means 'It's going fine' or 'It's going good'.

Bien means good or well and in this case it could mean fine.

The word et is very simply 'and'.

Toi is the word for ‘you’. It is the informal version, as if you were talking to a very good friend or a relative. Vous is the polite form of 'you'. If Marie and Jean were strangers, they could use the word vous like this:

Jean: Ça va bien, merci. Et vous?

Vous is considered more polite and is used for strangers or people in authority. It is also used when addressing a group of people like if Jean were speaking to Marie AND (let's pick a name...) Pierre. (Pierre is the French equivalent of Peter - and you know what's cool? The name Peter means 'rock', and the French word for 'a rock' is un pierre!) If Jean was speaking to Marie and Pierre, he would use vous, because there is more than one person. (Oh, by the way, I can't spell in any language that I speak, so please ignore my horrible spelling of bien in the comic... Paint doesn't have spellcheck, lol!)

So there you have it! Your very first French lesson! Hope it was fun and informative and all that jazz. One more thing to learn

–

Cut It Out

I've never considered myself artistic. I've never been able to draw or paint as well as other people. I hated art class for a while because our teacher would make us sketch the most impossible stuff without using lines - just using the variants in shade and shadow. Well, I will admit I learned a lot from him. In fact I'm working on a picture right now, just a pencil drawing... but I love it! I'll post a picture of it when I'm done.

Photography, writing, and probably the most of all, collages are my main artistic outlet. Oh, and music of course. I'm a music fanatic, but I'll rave about that later. Don't ever give me an old issue of Vogue - I will kill it! I love cutting out pictures of people and advertisements... my closet doors are covered in cutouts! I don't compare myself to the models, that'd be ridiculous. I'm not even sure why I keep some of them. I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So when I'm looking through a magazine or something, and I see something beautiful, I cut it out. Whether they're whole pages or just tiny snippets, I keep them.

They're mostly people... not all stickman models either... I have some of children, some of food (yummy chocolate chip cookie!), just some random advertisements... But my favorite one is from a French issue of Vogue where they did an article on South Africa. The article cover photo is a beautiful woman with traditional paint on her face, in a beautiful red traditional dress... it makes me feel so blessed to have been exposed to this culture! The beauty of individuality and the differences in culture and tradition have been rooted deep in my soul. That's one thing I never want to cut out.

En Français

Je voudrais ecrire quelque chose en français. (I would like to write something in French.) À vous qui ne parlez pas français, tant pis! (To those of you who don't speak French, too bad!) Moi, je parle français aussi rapidement. (I speak French fairly rapidly.) Ici en Niamey, il faut parler français ou hausa ou zarma... ou une autre langue comme ça. (Here in Niamey, you must speak French or Hausa or Zarma... or another language like that.) Il n'y a personne presque qui parle l'anglais. (There is hardly anyone who speaks English.) Mais, je pense que je suis beni avoir une autre langue. (But I think that I am blessed to know another language.) C'est très utile! (It's very useful!) Je voudrais apprendre une autre langue aussi. (I would like to learn another language too.) Peut-être l'espagnol! (Maybe Spanish!)

Voici une poeme j'ai écrit en français. (Here is a poem I wrote in French.)

La Zamou

Merci pour la joie tu m'a donné (Thank you for the joy you've given me)
C'est comme la pluie (It is like the rain)
Je suis trempée jusqu'aux os (I'm soaked to the bone)
Merci pour la joie tu nous a donné (Thank you for the joy you've given us)
C'est comme l'océan (It is like the sea)
Tu fait tremper tout (You soak everything)
J'espere que le soleil n'arrive jamais (I hope the sun never comes)
Ni la poussière, ni la saison sèche (Neither the dust, nor the dry season)
Que ta joie jamais se tarir (That your joy will never dry up)
Laisse la pluie, laisse l'océan (Leave the rain, leave the ocean)
J'aime être mouillée (I love being wet)

Bon, au revoir mes amis! (Ok, goodbye my friends!) À la prochaine! (Until next time!)
Salama

Walking on Water

It rained yesterday. That may not seem like a ton to some people, but it's a pretty big deal to the people out here. Right now is technically our rainy season, but that
doesn't mean everything. We're blessed if it rains once a week during the rainy season! And it's ending soon... It only lasts from the end of May (if we're lucky!) to the beginning of October (If we're lucky again!). Then it's deathly dry the rest of the year. Ok, that's not true... in March through May it starts getting deathly humid. And I mean REALLY humid. Then you know it's only a couple of months or even weeks until the rains start. Then the first rain... wow, that first rain...

Rain is rarely boring here. The first rain is always preceded by huge winds. And all the dust that has been collecting for seven months flies into the air. The dust storm is phenomenal! If you've ever seen the movie Hidalgo, that's what it looks like. It's not that thick, but it literally looks like a brown cloud racing towards you.

School is impossible to keep in session during that. All the students and the majority of the teachers will race outside onto our dirt soccer field and watch the dust and play in the dust and dance in the dust and sing in the dust... The wind is so strong, we try and lean back into it, or else we race around the fields flapping our arms like mad parrots.

Then the rain, the glorious rain comes again. Huge drops fall from the sky and it isn't long until it's coming down in sheets. Everyone gets soaked to the skin, and mud fights break out. Huge puddles form in front of the dining hall and around the campus - ideal to slide and splash in. All maturity goes out the window and you can act like you're 6 again. Running through the rain, over the puddles - sometimes it feels like you're walking on water.

Anonymous

I think it's kind of funny how everybody on this earth wants to be known and loved for who they are, but still, everyone craves some sort of anonymity. Or at least I do. Maybe I'm just a freak.

No, no, I know I'm not. =) Don't worry. But it's true, anonymity is so perfect sometimes. It can be so much more sincere than having everyone know who you are. Being known comes with prerequisites and qualifications. Heaven forbid someone say something out of line! Never! OMG, she SAID that?! That is SO not like her. What's wrong? We should all crowd around her and make her tell us what's really up. Dear old friend, old pal, WHY didn't you let us KNOW!? What's going on?! Why didn't you TELL US?!

Have I made my point? Not like I'm hiding stuff from my friends. Just the true expression of my thoughts and emotions are sometimes so much better anonymous. I can say what I want, and say what I mean in a way that's candid and honest. I love the Dr. Seuss quote: "Say what you want to say, and be what you want to be, 'Cause those that mind don't matter, and those that matter don't mind." It's somewhat true, but not completely. Those that matter don't mind what you think, but they do mind how you express it.

It's somewhat freeing to have a spot that you can rant and rave all you want and no one gives a rip. Like I may not be depressed, but when I write stuff that shows how down I'm feeling some people could get very concerned. It's difficult to know who will take it the right way. That's why only select people know about this blog. People that I know can take what I say for face value, and not take it deeper than it needs to be. If you don't KNOW me, read on! What you think of who I am can be judged all you want - you don't know who I really am, and this is about the most sincere I can get sometimes.

To anyone who takes the time to read this emotional spigot (LOVE that term... that bit of genius came to me last night!) thanks for taking the time to read. I admit it may not be as fun loving as some other blogs, but I'll have my moments, trust me! Enjoy!

Salama

Cartwheels

Today is a creative day... I can't seem to get my head out of the clouds and onto solid ground. It's not like there is one specific reason for it either. So much is just racing around my head, and I can't seem to focus on one thing. My head is doing cartwheels with everything that's going on. All I could really think about was getting my thoughts onto paper, or in this case, my blog. And now that I'm sitting at the laptop in my room, I can't think of anything to say.

I talked to Nate's sister today. I'd never told her how i felt about Nate... and it was somewhat relieving to know she feels the same way I do about the Nate and Allie. HEY NATE'S SISTER! I'M GONNA HAVE TO COME UP WITH A NAME YOU LIKE! Haha... I told her about the blog, she'll be checking it out probably.

I feel like everything is doing cartwheels right now. Nothing feels stable, nothing stays put. My emotions are like that right now... up then down then normal. It's weird. I don't like it. Life is to boring when things are completely stable, but spinning around like this isn't right.

Salama

Poetic motion

Everyone knows someone who can's seem to shut their mouth and stop talking. I'm one of those people sometimes. I love to talk, I love to communicate. I can do it almost fluently in two languages, and one day (hopefully) I want to make it three.

But sometimes communication just isn't enough through speech. Sometimes I communicate better through a media: art, photography, poetry, collages, music... which could explain the creation of this blog. Emotion to me can't be trapped inside. It needs to be released into the open in some form. Instead of blabbing on about my 'horrible day', why not do it creatively on paper? Find a way to express myself through imagery and symbolism. That's just how my mind works best sometimes.

Poetry moves... it has a motion all to it's own. It can run or march or trudge or skip - all depending on how it is written and what the author is trying to communicate from it. I've written poetry for - well a long time it feels like. I don't know when I realized it was such an emotional outlet for me, but it's become more so recently. Even reading poetry has motion. It can move you, influence you, direct you...

I'm going to put up one of my poems in this post. I wrote it back in December. I think it accurately portrays my feelings and thoughts about communicating through media...

Behind Bars

I'm in my cage
Feeling locked away from normality
Every once in a while a small taste is granted
Every once in a while things feel right
Things feel like they used to
But now I'm locked up
No chance to spread my wings
The letter and law are my turnkeys
They keep me imprisoned
Daylight is glimpsed through my bars
Sunshine is glorious to my withering eyes
But glimpses are my only chance
Basking in light, now that is a dream
A dream that can't be realized
One that can only stay in my head
But now, and only now there is a chance
A small escape away from the cold damp of my cell
A pen, a piece of paper, a light by which to write by
This will be my key
This is my escape to the outside world
And maybe someday, someday soon
I'll be able to bask in that sunlight

I'm not someone who gets 'depressed'. I'm usually very upbeat and full of a spirit that spreads out to everyone around me. But like everyone else, I have my down days. December was full of down days... and I needed to express that. I know now... but then I sincerely felt that I had no one to talk to. I know that I did. I chose not to. Instead I escaped into my poetry, my expression that didn't have chains.

There Was...

There was the longing to reach
To let secrets be known
But the fear that emotions would show

There was the yearning to love
And be loved in return
Yet anxiety continued to burn

There was the longing to jump
Into the unknown abyss
Felt the mark was too large to miss
So I jumped
And the arrow fell short
The target was missed
But the response wasn't an unfeeling retort
Instead you understood
My wings were stripped from me
But you helped me glide to safety

There used to be a spark inside
I thought it was extinguished but was wrong
It still burns strong

There used to be a knife plunged deep
It was removed
But the wound still seeps

There is now the wish to turn pages
To write the next chapter of my life
With words that forget the strife

And press on

I wrote 'There Was...' the day after 'Behind Bars'. I'll probably explain my emotions behind them in a later post, but for now, it feels good to put the poetry on here.

Skipping forward in time a bit... I wrote this next one in February.

It's Amazing...

It's amazing to find yourself
Lost in a maze of emotion
It's curious to be found
Hanging upside-down
Not knowing which way is up
And therefore always falling on your face
It's incredible to see
How something simple
Can grip you passionately
Can clench you like sand
Held in a fist, so it slowly trickles out
Until there's nothing left of it
And it leaves you drained
It's astonishing to comprehend
That some things always were
Some things simply are
And yet others will carry on
This is none of those
It is terminal, fleeting
It lasts as long as I entertain it
Try and grasp the sand
But it slides through my fingers
Leaving emptiness
Loneliness
A longing to belong
It's amazing...

I'm rereading these for the first time in months... and I'm feeling the motion all over again. Trust me, when I get creative, it's gonna show in these posts! Just the fact that so far I've written two posts in less than two days is proof. Who knows... today feels like a creative day. We'll see what comes out of it.

Salama.

Mad like a lava lamp.

So, I'm sitting here, writing my first blog, and I'm mad. My red lava lamp is next to me on the desk... and like it's color, I'm red. I'm frustrated and angry... both at myself and at others. It's a mellow kind of mad - just like a lava lamp. Nothing drastic happens, it just bubbles inside, until the heat is turned off and everything dies down. That's what this is like right now. I'm a lava lamp inside.

Have you ever sat and watched a lava lamp for a long time? It mesmerizes you, and you can't stop staring. It's always changing, ebbing, and flowing up and down. You can watch for hours. I sometimes stare at it when I can't sleep... the movement relaxes me, and then I wake up again because I have to get up and turn it off before I konk out.

My name is Chantelle - you can call me Chan or whatever you please... Chan is easiest. I used to hate it... but now all my friends call me that. It grows on you... I suppose. I'm a senior in high school... in West Africa. I've lived in Africa my whole life - this is home. My passport says I'm an American... my face says I'm white... my heart doesn't know where I fit in this mess of a world.

And lets face it this world is messed up. Whether you want to admit it or not... but I've seen the real world from the inside out and vice versa. It's sad what you see. I've been blessed and cursed to view some of the largest extremes of living. I've seen the condos in Beverly Hills. I've seen the trash shacks on the streets and alleys of a West African city. I've seen girls walking through malls in Prada and seen boys begging on the street for food, their ribs visible through their shirts.

My life is unique in a way I think no one else could compare to... and I feel so stupid right now because that's not what I'm mad about. I'm mad at a boy... a certian boy. Why does he make me so mad? Because he makes me compare myself to someone else in a way that makes me compromise what I am. I am beautiful, I am special, I am one of a kind - but he makes me wish I was HER.

If anyone that actually knows me reads this, you may or may not know who I'm talking about. For my own best interest, and probably several other people's, I'll change names. Hmm... what would be an appropiriate name for this 'boy'. Lets call him Nathan, Nate for short. Nate is amazing. No, amazing doesn't begin to describe what I think he is... but we'll move on from that. The last thing I want this to be is some freaky tweeny-bopper 'OMG I LOVE HIM' kinda blog. Because I don't. I like Nate. Alot. But that's going to be set aside for now. Now is when I introduce Allie. Allie is cute, she's fun, she's a friend of mine. And she's the girl I wish I could be right now. Because when Nate's involved... all eyes are on her.

And I'm just lava lamp mad. Why does a girl like Allie have him wrapped around her pinkie finger? And why do I want it to be different? What's so great about Nate? Why can't I just let it go, and realize that I'm not Allie, I never will be, and besides that I'm not the kind of girl that Nate would go for? It flips the switch in me sometimes, and slowly I get redder and redder, hotter and hotter... a mellow kind of mad that bubbles inside of me. My lava lamp mad.