Toxicity

I read somewhere that plants and trees have a tendency to be toxic to other species; I was thinking about that as a metaphor for the chemistry I have with someone here - a professor emerita who I explored working with last time I was here in '99. Terry eventually talked me out of it because of the enormous stress that I was experiencing just having preliminary conversations about research ideas.

So yesterday I had another run-in with this woman; it was based on a miscommunication about the Vicos visitors and their schedule. I followed her instructions to me to the letter, and dropped them off at the Anthropology office Friday afternoon at 1:30. She was displeased because I hadn't brought them to the library at 2:00. Somehow just a brief comment from her had the power to send me into this tailspin of remorse, resentment, guilt, and frustration... I know that I am not to blame, but I felt blamed nonetheless, and somehow she has the power to make me feel like a pinworm. I didn't feel like I deserved a reprimand after giving five hours of my time as a volunteer.

I cannot be around this woman, that's all there is to it. I cannot in any way allow her to be in a position of power over me. It seems like a matter of my particular psychic vulnerabilities combined with the prickly parts of her personality, but it's just not good for me to be around her. Fortunately she's retired (I actually checked that out before deciding to come here) so hopefully it will be easy to avoid her in the future.

It was an unfortunately unpleasant footnote to the really enjoyable morning I spent with the Quechua men from Vicos; Manuel Meza, Avito Meza, and Sebastian something (do click on the link- it's a great picture). They were so interested in everything! We went to the Cornell Plantations, to the top of the Johnson Museum of Art (great view of the lake, valley, and hill), and had lunch at Martha's. Their comments were really interesting (I imagine their comments to each other in Quechua were even more interesting, but the dialect was quite different and I couldn't follow):

• There are so many trees!
• There seem to be more women students than men
• Where are the Fords? I only see Chevrolet!
• People here don't cook with firewood, do they? (looking at fallen tree branches)
• All the students have their own laptops!

It was their first time in the US, first time on an airplane. During the opening colloquium, the oldest man (Manuel, about 70 years old) became quite emotional as he talked about visiting the archives in Kroch library, seeing the names of his grandparents, the photos of his elders (antepasados) and his community, seeing the memory of his place being cared for and treated with such honor and dignity. There was something very pure and straight from the heart about the way they talked about this - being treated with such honor by this obviously powerful and resources-rich university. It was really moving.