15 años

I work in a photo lab. We process the rare roll of film, transfer slides to DVDs, and print digital pictures taken with modern cameras. We even have a few professional photographers come in. One who shoots gymnasts, one who shoots sports players, a few who do parties and weddings, and one who I used to think did homecoming photos and got a little carried away.

This photographer comes in regularly; a couple times a month. He’s a friendly and patient man who calls me by name. His photos are always centered around a young Hispanic girl, sometimes stoic, sometimes smiling brightly, always done up in a gigantic pink puffy gown. She usually has a sparkling tiara and as much makeup as a Miss America contestant. There will be photos of this girl with boys her age in suits and other girls in pretty — but not nearly as impressive — dresses, and a great deal more photos of her with her family, all in formal attire.

The girls in these photos are teenagers. When I first saw them, I would have assumed prom, but they were clearly too young. 

I didn’t give the pictures much thought from there. After all my job is to print them, not analyze them. But I started to notice that some of his work would have text superimposed over it. I caught a number quite frequently: 15.

It dawned on me that these photos were for the girls’ 15th birthdays. 

The “quince años” in some Hispanic cultures is an extravagant celebration for a girl. It’s akin to an old-fashioned debutant or cotillion ball: the girl’s “coming out” party, where it’s officially made known that she’s a marriageable woman. 

As it turns out, this is quite popular in modern times amongst many Hispanic communities. Though the exact celebrations differ from country to country (and within the US), in general it includes a religious ceremony, a formal dinner, and a formal dance. 

Traditionally, the quince años was supposed to be the first time the quinceañera (the now 15-year-old girl) could dance in public or wear makeup. Obviously, that’s not always the case today, but the celebration is no doubt still a landmark birthday, kind of like the Sweet Sixteen but with more religion and formality. 

The sheer number of photos is astounding. Maybe this isn't that interesting to some, but I can't imagine doing this at 15. Dressing up in a giant dress with a crown and posing in front of the camera with my entire family and all my friends? Getting to wear a ton of makeup? Having a formal ball thrown in my honor? It sounds like fun. I would've really enjoyed it. 

(photo curtesy of wikipedia)

Letting Go

As a young'un, I liked incense for a number of material reasons. It smelled good and it gave me the sense of belonging to a hippie subculture, and I thought hippies had the best sense of style.

Whenever I had friends over, I’d light up a stick of incense, and when conversation died down we’d watch the smoke float in ringlets toward the ceiling. It never occurred to me what incense might mean to anyone else, or that it could mean anything.

At 18, I took a World Religions class. One of my assignments was to visit the place of worship of a religion not my own. I chose a Buddhist temple for this.

There, I was able to have a personal discussion with the minister himself, a very nice young man. He told me that Buddhism is not a religion; rather, a way of life. Buddhism has no belief system. He said it was just the reality of life. He compared the ideas behind Buddhism to water. Water, he said, is essential, yet how often do we consider this? Water is always around us, always available; water is taken for granted. It is the same with many things in life, and Buddhism attempts to focus on and appreciate these essential things.

He said Buddhism was the Middle Way, not a faith or a dogma — it was a way of living, a path of happiness, a philosophy and a science.

He told me about the burning of incense, a subject I didn’t ask about and hadn’t considered, but I still really liked incense so I was happy to hear what he had to say. I was a little surprised by it. 

He said it signified impermanence. It was to remind us that things come and go. One second they can exist and be before our eyes, in our reach, and then they will burn and fall into ash. He explained it as something not to be mourned, but accepted, because some day you will have to lose everything and there is no escaping that. No matter what, all things change, and it it better to let go than cling to what is now gone.

Buddhism largely rejects the common religious concept of a material, eternal afterlife, and instead encourages embracing the reality of impermanence so that we may let go and still be happy in this life, without having to wait for Heaven to experience bliss.

This idea has stuck with me. “Anicca,” as it is called, is the inconstancy of the world. Simple fact. As incense burns and turns to ash, so will all the world. As such, it is attachment, the inability to let go, that causes most of human suffering.

When I’m sad or stressed over something in my life, I find watching swirling plumes of smoke rise from the ember of an incense stick so soothing I can easily forget my troubles.

It may be a depressing thought to some, that everything will end and there's no stopping it, but to me it's nothing but liberating. You need only to accept the inevitable to find peace. 

Taking Opportunities

It’s occurred to me that every day I might encounter a hundred opportunities to discover something I’d never known or considered before, but I ignore almost all of them. I’ll hear a few lines about something or catch a glance at something unusual, and I’ll think for a moment: “Hmm, that’s interesting.” But in about two minutes the subject is out of my mind and I never give it another thought. 

Well, I’ve decided that’s messed up, for me anyway. I go around claiming I’m into “other cultures” and that I “like learning.” As I’ve recently realized, that’s complete bullshit! When I get home from a long day of work, I don’t look up the answers to the questions I pondered that day — I watch Jersey Shore, play with my kitten, and go to sleep. Maybe I’ll look at my homework and consider doing it, or check my emails and consider replying to a few, or make sure I’m not behind on my credit card bills, but do I do anything to expand my horizons? Nope.

If I’m going to talk like I’m so curious and explorative, I best start acting like it. So, I’m starting this blog. A place where I can force myself to step from “hmm, that’s interesting” to “I know all about that.” 

Let me explain a little more what I mean. When you’re out in the real world, working or running errands or socializing, it’s inevitable that you will encounter a myriad of interesting people with backgrounds, beliefs, and ideals you know absolutely nothing about. One of them might saying something to you, something you’ve never heard about before. They might mention that they grew up in Ethiopia and that school there was tough. You might find yourself briefly imagining how the schools in Ethiopia might be, but you don’t finish your conversation with the stranger and you never get to ask. So you never think about it again. 

That’s me. But from now on I’m going to take all those little things I never think about again and remember them and explore them, and post them here so that everyone can culturify themselves along with me.