Friday, January 28, 2011

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I present my favorite wild animal: giraffes. They're beautiful. What big eyes with eyelashes mascara! walking What elegance! do so slender necks! What preciousness of color filled with sand and clay! ...
But my dear giraffe to me I can not find in Western storytelling. To be with them, as with many other animals, we read African stories in which the wolf, fox, bear, crow ... are displaced by giraffes, buffaloes, elephants, lions, monkeys, crocodiles ...
would be very interesting to study African stories, the intersection of the subjects of Biology and Geography. The aim and plan. The literature is universal, but that not mean that it is the same throughout the universe (only talking about a part of our planet Earth), but changes as the habitat of man, which is related in a special way with their environment.



In black Africa, the palms, the jungle, the river, the wind is more than characters, are a source of wisdom. Neither the animals are known to us here. There are others, and therefore no less clever. It is marvelous that the board or the protection always exist in the stories, but with other roars or bellows ... The animal talks, as in the Greek fables, because the animal is intelligent in their nutrient medium, affective component of solidarity with their pack and their environment.

Let's work this week the African story to support the South Foundation is dedicated body and soul to the promotion of the African continent through education and not from compassion. And we realize that we all go a road, as Little Red Riding Hood, Snow White or Pinocchio, find support from the animals or living beings in nature, but they change, because there are other views and needs.
The boy, man, girl and woman ... always the same. Because in the end we are all born, we love, we cry and laugh and die ...

hang an African story that you should go by mouth ...




Kumaka THE MYSTERY OF
Jean de Dieu Madangi
For a long time, suffered a disease Kumaka sorcerers failed to diagnose correctly. Every morning he rose with a strange mixture of joy and anxiety that accompanied him throughout the day. At bedtime, tired of the daily grind, it added a kind of pain and happiness that ended in a profound melancholy and extended periods of autism. Something really weird.
Kumaka had an only daughter, a beauty unsurpassed. Was twenty years and had not been married or was engaged to anyone. The illness of his father had prevented any social contact. He seemed to live in a kind of bubble, only to his father. When out in public, the whole world was paralyzed by the spell of her beauty. The birds stopped singing, stopped his bellowing buffalo, snakes remained stiff, there was not a fly moving, ducked the giraffes with their long necks bowed to the girl, and only the monkeys were jumping from branch to branch and seized by malarial fever ...
Kumaka was a hunter from small, like those of his clan. He belonged also to the family of sorcerers. But he complained constantly of being born at the wrong time, with bad star, unable to hunt as many animals as desired. In vain his friends tried to convince him that he was luckier than none. Nobody had a daughter as beautiful as yours, none was, in turn, warlock and hunter and his house, sheep, fertile fields and a fairly regular game, et cetera et caeteri, a lottery that he had not touched any of them. But Kumaka still complaining, complained vice. Still in the virtual world of the rainforest. Flatly refused to be real and see the world as long as ... And lived happily, while saddened by his strange illness ...
By chance, one day Kumaka was to accompany his daughter to gather wood, saw that it caused among the animals a kind of spell that left them totally lame, I say, paralyzed. Then he flashed a mischievous smile, rubbed his hands and said it was time to demonstrate their ingenuity. A week later, her daughter was Kumaku the middle of the jungle, to a hill surrounded by a precipice purposely designed for hunting of the century. It built a deck chair and fell asleep nearby, awaiting a call from her daughter. The presence of the girl in this part of the forest was noted as when shooting a flashlight in the dark. The first to arrive were the antelopes and gazelles. They came in a rush so they do not had time to stop and drop like flies. Meanwhile, the flies that were in the gutter flew through the air and shoving straws. And had enough food for the whole family for months. Then the girl hawking, licked his lips, took out his chest, took a deep breath and sang the song that was secret call her possessive father
Kumaka Kumaka Kumaka
Tido Kumaka Tido Kumaka Father Kumaka
Kumaka Tido Kumaka Father
nam'ase Ena, Kumaka animal I have here a father
Banis Nayo, Kumaka With that I'll get out of here, Father Nama
wo ledjeng'eya, Kumaka looking beast is the father
Hi, hi, hi, Kumaka Yes, father
Hii, hii, hi, Kumaka Yes father
wo ledjeng'eya Nama, Kumaka looking beast is the father
Hiiiiiiiiiii. Yes, yes and yes.

Kumaka jumped from the grave, I say from the couch, where he was enjoying a well deserved nap thought, and went out like a shotgun to where he hoped his beloved daughter. He wished those moments of excitement lasted throughout its brief existence in this vale of tears, as he used to say his mother. Upon arrival, hardly believe what their eyes: his daughter safe and sound, and happier than ever for the gift that just give to his father, animals of all kinds prisoners in the pit. At that time, was the richest man in the village and the happiest. He said to himself himself: "My daughter deserves everything that I have reached in my youth. Send her to study with the wizards Pygmies, the most knowledgeable of the natural environment and human nature. I will. But before we do another small collection ... It would be nice to honor with dignity the sincere affection I have my daughter ... "
And again the girl was on the hill, drawing all the greedy land animals. When she questioned again with the song, Kumaka discovered with joy and pain that the harvest was seven times more than in the legend of the fat. Had fallen into the trap of the most bizarre animals: lions spooky, winged leopards, unicorns, flying snakes, mosquitoes invisible ants in all respects, to speak only of the animal world, the more panic that gave the daughter.
the end of this second collection, it was proposed to take his daughter straight into the jungle a few miles without and check it or cheat. It was said that in that area were divine animals. He told himself that these are only an attempt, just a curiosity question ... Put everything on wheels and provided with palm wine and brandy the genius of its occurrence. Provided pumpkin after pumpkin as divine animals fell and filled the trench. The party stretched a bit longer than expected and she joined the gnomes. Vainly rang the echo of the song's daughter calling for his release. No one heard from the whistles and flutes of fun. Too late she found out that there are feelings that kill. And when he wanted to look up to see if anyone came to his aid, all he could see was a flaming ridge above a curved beak with two big eyes that seemed to glow. That was all he saw. Descriptions recalled as a child, his father made him the dragon rooster, owner of the deep jungle, and understood everything. Then he heard something unique, strange, horrible, deafening, the Cocorocas of the vermin that sang to cheer the happiness that had just touched. A delicious meal had come from afar, even his own home. Two or three times the daughter wanted to call his father to the secret song, but the dragon was with her.
came his father wept for joy divine animals caught. Then wanted to call his daughter, whom he believed asleep behind the pile of carcasses. The only takers were the glowing eyes of the hydra, who approached him mockingly, to bring happiness to his life had been longing for: the blackout of desires. Days, weeks and years later, people in the town was wondering how they did not return Kumaka and daughter ... Exclaimed a wise, people believed freak, who had come face to face with Remedium cupiditatis. And no one understood their language, continue considering a freak and still did not reveal the mystery.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

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Wednesday, January 19, 2011

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Cooking with Phrases Man reading


Today, from the house of my friend and colleague Lucia Brenlla, smiling pleased with my dessert, I dedicate a few lines to unravel the intricate mysteries of supplements Name or adjacent.
The truth is that you are very well understood verb complements and that, some make the verb wobble base of good: the case of supplements agents, attributes or supplements scheme (also supplements) whose presence ensures a specific verbal form (passive , mating verbs or preposition ).
And yet, this humble, unobtrusive presence of CN, which accompanies the SN core (often SUJ), it does not really pay attention and Metais (oh, heavens!), CCM, within a nominal structure ... we are accustomed to begin the prep of and, of course, when it comes to our CN with a carnation in his lapel form of another prep, is the slip ...



So today, a dish that everyone likes: chicken. I'll do a chicken. This chicken can be farm. Y is a CN (CCL would be, if bring the farm, is not it?).

But I took him to my house and I think with a squares potatoes, I would be rich, rich, chicken fricassee in (and I put a preposition-CN with other congenital abnormalities is not worth thinking about university-level).

Then, it that I have run the gears and I have to cook eggs and add the chopped hard little egg. Ay, ay, ay! I have to improvise: I know I will do a chicken to chilindrĂ³n ! Species of chicken with tomato which can dip into the sauce pan with another prep CN I added, that's great!

Anyway, I know I have little time and could take a little doing roast chicken (CN easy as pie) or chicken with garlic . But really, I like to innovate and comes to my head coconut sauce for a chicken curry .

That's what I'm, when my son comes and tells me not to speak. Who wants rebozadito beer and that can eat without cutlery medieval fashion. This is what he calls an authentic hand chicken.

And the poor chicken ended his days among different CN. Not all began by of , but how well complemented by our delicious chicken!

And now, what you ultimately want? (Here I have to call my midwife biscuit and student chatterbox, Natalia 4 th. B)

Sunday, January 16, 2011

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Friday, January 14, 2011

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Wednesday, January 12, 2011

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To infinity and beyond. In class

Many times I have heard that reading is good for no make spelling mistakes or is great to hang out ...
And it partly right, but, having said so, it's like when we have ten years and tell us that chamomile is very good for stomach ache ...
Reading is another thing ...



first read a title and cherish a cover, we get an idea, like a hope or a promise, or a plan or project ... we do a story on the head before get to read.
We read, and we're breaking up the initial story, as one unwinds the skein of yarn to make another new ball: the story we read.
We read, and we get from characters or criticize others and are part of an issue that seriously concerns us, because we live what we remove and requires us taking a stand.
We read, and dazzles the case, we resolve to stir the passions or the problem.
In reading we read, decipher, understand, understand, forgive and rehearsed to be people with so many characters ... We read and
up those lines that are hidden as traces of ancient texts that populate new readings, such as elderly people who tell their grandchildren intermingling severities with screeches.
And if we do leyentes perpetual, entered the kind gesture and after a shot, read a breakup and that day, do not ask for the year ...
read, going through the aisles and watch on the melancholy of the gait, problems with a partner or the rush of this teacher, who is always late, why not for the stairs to read faces, movements, silences, absences ...
read and noticed that we are not alone and that everyone is very unfortunate, but at the same time, because, luckily, the same world tour, the whole world will also infinitely happy ...
turned off the light, for reading cradles us, and we dream of legend, which grows upon us while we sleep, helping us to grow without remedy ... Read
truths, lies, read letters and emails, always read and confirm that we exist, since we feel ...
And finally, the sense of reading is the pure feeling of understanding that non-stop reading makes us better when we help ourselves in the place of another (this is called empathy), when trains us to be continually monitors and interpret the wonderful world around us with their letters and punctuation (the murmurs and whispers in the form of dots, these cries of semicolons, those undecided questions or sighs of exclamations ...) Read
tirelessly to understand that what is not said can also be read and after the silence of another person, look into a chasm of respect ... Read
Non stop being ...

Monday, January 3, 2011

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Sunday, January 2, 2011

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Jus unit



Source: Page of Rosario Bar



The Press Office of the Judiciary of Santa Fe, reports that the Agreement Ordinary meeting held on 22.12.1910, Act No. 61, paragraph 2, the Hon. Supreme Court of the Province, updated Jus Unit amount provided for in Article 32 of Law 12,851, at $ 261.25 as of 01.12.1910, since the wage increase provided for all staff of the Judiciary.
For more information visit: www.justiciasantafe.gov.ar (Overview / unit jus)

Party Release No. 93.
Santa Fe, December 23, 2010 .-