Little Nugget Diner

Going to the Little Nugget is an exciting adventure because not only is it right in the midst of Downtown Reno but it is the home of the famous Awful Awful Burger the winner of Food Wars and probably one of the best burgers in the United States.

I went to the Little Nugget for the second time with two of my friends, Ron and Phoebe, on Friday afternoon after class and the best thing about it was that it is so close to UNR. We took the Spirit Bus which happened to be my first time on a bus so Ron and Phoebe let me press the button that makes the bus driver know to make the next stop at the approaching site, but I guess I pressed it too early because when we were driving by the stop the bus driver was not stopping so Ron got up and told her that we needed to get off and she realized that she had forgotten to stop. After we got off, Ron wanted to make the experience even more thrilling by going through the back door into the diner as opposed to using the front entrance, so we walked through an alleyway (luckily for Phoebe and I we had big ol’ Ron lead the way) and then through the back door.

            Phoebe and I grabbed a table while Ron went to go get some money from the ATM that was around the bar and slot machines, and we could smell the awesome food that was being cooked up. Ron ordered an Awful Awful which comes with one pound of fries and he ordered Phoebe and me another pound of fries. When the food came out it smelled really good and the fries were pretty delicious but I did notice that the burger has become much smaller, if you could believe it, from the first time I went which was about a year or two ago, but Ron still enjoyed it! And Phoebe and I enjoyed our fries and I used like three little cups of ketchup to eat half of my share. However, I think the famous Awful Awful burger had more lettuce on it to make it appear bigger, but it definitely seemed smaller. It was bigger a few years ago and probably a lot bigger back when Allison Johnson, in the novel Northline, went to go eat her first Awful Awful with Penny. Nonetheless, the social, welcoming atmosphere that my friends and I felt we were in was probably one that Allison felt like she was in with Penny; good food and good friends to eat with. It is a good thing that ‘“[We] love to eat,’…” (Vlautin 98).

 

 

 

Louis’ Basque Corner

Louis’s Basque Corner is the home of traditional cooking. Known for its Basque influence, Louis’ Basque Corner is notorious for its family-style cooking and its hearty food ranging from rabbit to lamb to the yummy Basque Burger. After finishing up with Outreach, my team and I were driving down Fourth Street and while we were driving down, I saw right on the right of me, Louis’s Basque Corner. Now, I have never eaten there but I have eaten at a Basque restaurant south of Reno and it is very different from your usual restaurant. You are usually served several courses—appetizer, soup, entrée, and desert—and it usually takes about a couple of hours to eat because, different from here in America, meal time is the time where you socialize and relax and to really just spend quality time with friends and family.

In Northline by Willy Vlautin, Allison walks by Louis’ Basque Corner: “After a while, just being in the apartment frightened her so she got dressed and headed downtown. She passed Louis’s Basque Corner and Last Dollar bar, St Vincent’s thrift store, and the Fireside Liquor Store” (Vlautin 83). Frightened by her own loneliness, Allison decided to get out of her apartment and back into Downtown Reno which could also be a frightening place but in a different way. The danger of hanging around in the area by oneself, especially if you are a female, can be quite frightening but for Allison, it was her source escape. But to think of Allison’s solitude, left to her own thoughts to overlook any dangerous possibilities she may face being out and about by herself on Fourth Street on top of it all must express a glimpse of how afraid she really was to take the risk anyways.

Passing by Louis’ Basque Corner felt different, though, from the rest of Fourth Street. While doing Outreach, I walked along the area and I saw a different side of Reno that I am not used to, yet when I stumbled across Louis’ I felt a warmer side, a side that I am more used to and I wonder if this is how Allison would have felt if she had walked in. The feeling of closeness, of family, of warmth. This escape in comparison to the rest of her life could have been a very positive one that could have potentially changed her outlook on certain aspects of her life. Something as simple as walking into a welcoming environment can mean a whole lot to someone even if they are feeling down in the dumps.

 

 

 

Saint Mary’s Regional Medical Center

Today Saint Mary’s is one of the main hospitals located in Northern Nevada right along with Renown Regional Medical Center. Just recently Saint Mary’s was purchased by a larger company called Prime Health and was to have a name change to Dignity Health but due to “historical” issues the new name has yet to stick. Saint Mary’s “is a 380-bed acute care and general medical/surgical hospital with a complete range of services, including Women's and Children's services, Home Care, Hospice and Palliative Care, a nationally accredited Center for Cancer, a full-service Heart and Vascular Institute and a multi-specialty Medical Group” (Saint Mary’s).

For decades, Saint Mary’s has helped individuals with many services and they were able to help Allison Johnson, from Northline, with her pregnancy. ‘“Remember there are people who can help. I think St Mary’s Hospital in Reno also has a program set up specifically for women in situations like yours. Adoption agencies can help, too’…” (Vlautin 58). When Allison was still in Las Vegas she spoke with Nancy Collins about who would be able to help her and Saint Mary’s was definitely the hospital that could. When Allison arrived in Reno and went to the hospital, there was a nurse that was immediately there to help her with her pregnancy and the future care of her child: “the girl took another pregnancy test and confirmed her situation, and by the end of the second week they had decided on an adoption agency, a doctor, and had even seen folders of prospective parents” (Vlautin 63). Although in the end Allison regretted giving away her baby, the baby was in safe hands and Allison was taken care of along the way living in a secure, little apartment right next to the hospital with other ladies of similar situations.

Just like her experience, I believe people still do encounter Saint Mary’s welcoming environment and genuine care. Whenever in need for help, a nurse will be there to help assist you and doctors are on call to diagnose and/or treat any conditions you may have. Like any health care professional, they are there to care for you in any way possible to make you feel more comfortable. Places such as Saint Mary’s Regional Medical Center give people, like Allison Johnson, the opportunity to get better and find a new start. It was the place where she could turn over a new leaf and get healthier both physiologically and mentally, although she still had some alcohol and anxiety issues afterwards. Nevertheless, she was given a chance at a new life and I am sure many people still do get that chance as well.

 

 

 

Sands Casino

Walking in Downtown Reno you cannot escape the sights and sounds of the casinos all around. From Harrah’s to the Sundowner to Eldorado to Circus Circus to Sands Casino, you will never be able to avoid the flashing neon lights and the conversations of people walking around because no matter the weather or the time of day, people are always walking around Downtown Reno.

            Just like Allison Johnson in Willy Vlautin’s novel Northline, I walked around Downtown towards the river where I found myself walking by the Sands. “She could see street lights in the distance and a few cars passed on what seemed like a main road. She walked in the darkness towards it. She could hear the sounds of a river, and as she walked closer to it and the main street, she saw the lights from the casinos. The Comstock marquee appeared, then the Sundowner, and the Sands shone in the distance by itself” (Vlautin 60). With my Outreach Team, we had walked by the river and passed by Sands Casino. At first, I did not really know it was the Sands because I was on the back side of the building, but I knew it was a casino because of where it was located and how large it looked. All I had to do was walk a little more to the side and then look up so that I could find the sign to figure out which casino it was. And it, indeed, was the Sands.

            When we were walking, one of my fellow Outreach members was frolicking in the leaves that had fallen from the neighboring trees and some of the leaves got stuck in her shoes. We reached the end of the sidewalk and stopped to see if the car that had just stopped would yield to us pedestrians because, as you may know, sometimes they do not but he did thankfully. We crossed and right as we reached the sidewalk on the other side we heard the driver speed like some kind of racecar driver. My other Outreach member shouted and said, “Slow down, dummy!” People can be very impatient and I wonder if Allison encountered drivers such as these or people in general in Downtown Reno.

            It seemed very quiet, however, at the Sands. Unlike a lot of other casinos in the area, this one did not seem as busy. I only saw a couple of people; I saw more people as we walked towards the river and it was cold out. (I am sure the economy has a lot to do with its emptiness). Although the Sands was not as busy, it still illuminated part of Downtown Reno like it illuminated the path Allison was walking on. The Sands’ famous sign will continue to shine like it did decades ago shining on someone else’s path.

 

 

 

Life is Time, Time is Money

           Life, college, work, studies, family, friends, socializing, travelling, partying, sleeping, reading, eating, moving, living, surviving. There are so many things we do every single day. There are too many things to do that sometimes I wonder why our heads don’t explode. We are a culture of fast-paced, never-ending, multi-tasking habits. Only doing one thing at a time takes too much out of our time. Time is precious, time is money. We’d be wasting a lot of time just doing nothing, so we do many things at one time to effectively use the limited time we have even when we don’t think we are. Time, time, time.

We plan, we act, and we conquer. If it wasn’t for planning, I would have no idea what to do with my life. I work by a list, a schedule to check off what I have completed and to know what I have to get done. Right now, this walking journal is on a list of many things that need to get done this weekend. For example, my plans and goals for today are to get my argumentative essay done, apply for a job, go to the UNR vs. San Diego State game (GO Pack!), finish applying to a scholarship, and hopefully get some workouts done in between. Life is a schedule, but it is never boring.

I like to stay busy, but there are also different kinds of busy. School busy is my least favorite; I am not too big a fan of lots of homework because I feel as if it detracts from my ability to enjoy other things. I enjoy being work busy. I never have an excuse to just sit down; I love being on the move doing things, learning things, experiencing things. Honestly, I like to have a mix of everything in my life knowing that I am doing something productive because, again, time is money.

            Now, I did not come up with this phrase: Time is money. I actually heard this being used when I was listening to a motivational speech on the wonders of life and the future. The speaker gave us five rules, but I can only ever remember this one. It is the base from which everything stems out. It is how well you use the time that you have that will have the biggest impact on your life.

Hope you enjoyed my stream-of-consciousness!

Bringing Back Sophistication

           The architecture of my neighborhood is very elegant as it is themed after classical homes made of stucco. The houses are spacious and the designers took keen attention to the classical blueprint of these houses. Before I begin to describe the design of my neighborhood, I first need to explain the change in construction that happened in the past year. A few years back, the neighborhood that I live in used to be known as the Remuda Collection. There were three different houses you could choose from: the Morgan, the Friesian, and the Dartmouth; the first two being a one-story home and the last was a two-story. Our neighborhood lies right next to the collection called the Stagecoach Collection which is almost like Remuda but a little larger in size with four other house designs. Now, because of the economy and such, the Remuda Collection and the Stagecoach Collection were combined, but both share the quality of elegance and classical design (which is probably another reason why they were combined years later).

Arches are very prevalent in the blueprints of all of the houses in the Remuda/ Stagecoach Collections. They reflect on the classical design of the past centuries and the stucco gives the houses the authentic, rustic look. In addition, the colors used for the houses are very earthy and natural which also keep up the classical theme. The ceilings are all quite high which gives these houses the modern, classic twist. Also, the roof tiles represent an almost Italian look making the houses mirror the period of Renaissance.

 

These collections are quite different from the collections elsewhere. Other houses are made out of an exterior of boarded pieces of wood as opposed to stucco which gives them a different look that appears less elegant, one could argue. I guess this look is more reminiscent of the typical “American” houses that were built decades ago. It is an older, aged design but not like the classical European design of today’s new architecture for housing.

Architecture, at least in my neighborhood, has seemed to bring back elegance of the classical European design. The blueprints almost seem to reflect back upon the Renaissance, the rejuvenation of the arts mirroring back on values of creativity and elegance. Elegance and grace are coming back. Values are being revived, a step back to sophistication.

 

 

The Wetlands

           The history of my neighborhood brings back the beauty of nature. Before the Damonte Foothills became the residential uproar that it is now (or used to be before the housing crisis), it used to be a wetland. Covered in marshes and filled with wildlife. Ranging from the aquatic creatures like fish and frogs to the little mammals that dwelled there, to the birds who floated on the watery land. Then there were the mustangs who roamed all over feeding on the grasses and drinking from the ponds all around along with the coyotes that came from out of the hills.

What a site it must have been. Natural, picturesque, free. No buildings, no houses, no construction, no garbage. There wasn’t any human interference. The mustangs weren’t forced to move upward towards the mountain sides. The coyotes weren’t kept from crying out their childish cheers. The wetlands weren’t cut down to the size they are now so that more houses could be developed.

It is hard to imagine this is how it used to be for decades until the Damonte Foothills came to be what they are now. Although there are still glimpses of what used to be, sections of wetlands still preserved, the remaining wildlife that lives on, the survival of nature, it is still difficult to register the true nature of the land with all that there is now: houses, the high school, tractors, trash that litters around construction sites. It is amazing to see what kind of influence we, as a society, have on the land that we call ours; how we are able to change the very makeup of nature by removing what used to be.

 

 

 

 

Here are two very different images of the Damonte Foothills. The first is more beautiful (in my opinion) and almost untouched by urbanism. The second is the modern view of the remaining wetlands with the housing development in the background.

 

 

Home Sweet House

           In the essay, “Houselessness and Homelessness” by Jim Burklo, he discusses the difference of being in the situation of being “houseless” and being “homeless.” Unlike our common conception of homelessness, that is when a person does not have a place of dwelling; Burklo examines this to be a condition of “…people [not being] entrenched in their community, [al]though they may have a fine place to live.” On the other hand, houselessness is our “normal” conception of the term, and is the condition used to describe people who do not have homes. He argues this difference by stating that people who do not have a designated place to live understand the environment they live in whereas people who do have a home may not be in any way connected to the environment that they live in or even in their own community (Burklo).

In an examination of downtown, I see that many people portray this conception of houselessness and homelessness. But first, however, I would like to speak about my own neighborhood as a point of comparison. Here, the community is both entrenched with one another and the environment around us. We interact in positive ways with the nature around (like feeding the horses that was until we were told that that was not allowed) and we all like to maintain a friendly, familial kind of neighborhood. We socialize, we throw parties, we get together during holidays, and we take care of each other’s houses when someone goes on vacation.

In stark contrast, however, downtown feels nowhere like my neighborhood. I sense a detachment within the streets of downtown. There isn’t really something that helps to keep a connection between the people. Yes, there are places for families and friends to get together. There are places all around downtown and in the casino district such as the river, Century Riverside, Circus Circus, and so many other locations, but that doesn’t always mean that the people who live in the area are really connected to the people who come to have fun downtown. It pulls the community in, but there still lacks the ability to keep the people united with the culture of downtown. I think I have come to a conclusion, now, that downtown is almost a place the city of Reno visits rather than what the community it also is and this creates a sense of homelessness within Reno; we are not connected to the environment/ culture around us.

People who are “homeless” rather now in the context of this new definition, they are “houseless,” they appear to know a lot more about where they live. They know the ins and outs of downtown in order to get by; they know the appropriate places to go to sleep; they know the appropriate places to find food and water. They may not have a house, but downtown Reno is there home. The environment is a map they know by heart, but do we? We’re not as connected as it would seem.

Nevada: The Casino Capital

           Heading downtown is kind of a nerve-racking experience. Why? Well, driving down there sucks, parking is hard to find, there are pedestrians everywhere, and if you ever want to make a left turn it is almost impossible without hitting a red light. Driving by the casinos is not only frustrating but crazy because cars and people come out of nowhere, so it’s better just to park farther away and walk to the casino district. (*venting*)

 While walking, I pretty much observe a very different environment than from that of my own. My neighborhood compared to that of the casino district could not be any more different from the outside. For me, my neighborhood is quiet, peaceful, picturesque, and the people that walk around are all kind and friendly. However, from my past experiences in the casino district, downtown is noisy, messy, smoky/dirty, and there are people who are very rude who walk around and are very vulgar. Now, I don’t mind profanity but I do know when and where profanity should and should not be used, and that is NOT in front of little children. There were two older men (who appeared to be homeless) who were ranting on about America and they were cussing very loudly and this family, with two little kids, was walking by and the father kindly asked the men to be a little more respectful, and they just ignored him and continued on. Besides this more negative perspective, there is a lot more diversity (in practically every aspects such as race/ethnicity, economic status, etc) downtown. The diversity is nice because you not only get to see how different your own “world” is from that of another, but it is almost like travelling to gain the perspective of another kind of culture.

 Similarities are harder to find though, but being downtown is actually an enjoyable place to be. It is enjoyable because you can go with family and friends and do many things that you cannot really do in my neighborhood. For instance, there is a movie theater by the river, an ice-rink during the winter, rock-climbing at Commrow, bowling all around, one can go and eat the famous Awful-Awful by the Nugget, people go can watch shows ranging from orchestra to magic to Broadway, or people can go play some games at Circus-Circus. Downtown is a place for all because it is a place made for all ages to help foster our economy. It is place to have fun although the casino district is known as being “sketchy.”

 A lot of people come to Reno to visit the casino district. The question is: Why? What is there to do in the casino district? Well, you can gamble if you are old enough and have the money to gamble, unlike us university students at the moment. We are allowed to go into the casinos, but it is off-limits for people who are underage to be around the slot machines and the poker tables. However, even though we cannot go into the casinos to gamble, we can do many other things to have fun.

“And I’m going to go down to the river!”

           If you didn’t already figure it out, this title was inspired by Bridesmaids known by the airplane scene. If you haven’t seen it, you should! It’s pretty hilarious!

Anyways, heading down to the river is always a relaxing adventure. It’s peaceful even though there are always areas where the river is rough. In some areas the river leads down calm paths and sometimes it is not calm at all (a Pocahontas reference!). The river is one of the best places to go during the summer when it’s hot outside and all you want to do is go for a swim that is pretty close by in Reno and relatively inexpensive. People from all over the city come to the river with family and friends to enjoy the beauty of the river on a walk or jog; to have fun by swimming or tubing along the river; to relax by having a big picnic or enjoy the music that Art Town hosts in August; or maybe you go to the river to do all three! There are also restaurants by the river and there is Century Riverside where you can go see some new movies. In the wintertime, the city brings back the ice-skating rink which is always a big hit and always so much fun even if it is freezing outside and you cannot feel your toes (or face for that matter) anymore!

 The river is definitely a good place to go no matter the weather, because you do not necessarily have to be in the river to have fun. It’s a place that represents community and unity right here in Reno; it’s a place of peace and harmony for our biggest little city of the world. Therefore, I think that spending those millions of dollars to create the riverwalk was a beneficial cause. Although it may seem a bit pricey and, yes, you could always argue that that money could have gone somewhere else for a better cause, the money didn’t just go down the drain either. Like I said, it was beneficial because it really does bring Reno together. It is not only a symbol within our community as a place of unanimity it is a grand symbol of Reno as well. The river defines our city as a place where nature can be valued to its highest extent. Respect for anything is always valuable, and I think that the river gives us that opportunity to be proud of the place we all call our home and to keep the river the way it is now in its glory.

 

 

 

For some reason I cannot upload my own photos onto Blogger, so I have taken it upon myself to find some on the internet using Bing images! They are all quite picturesque, I think!

 

(Natural) Beauty and the Beast

            I remember asking myself when I was very little about nature and the landscapes all around me: How far can I see without seeing the world being interrupted by human doing? Is there an area of this world where humans have not disturbed the earth? And, then, I remember answering that there was always something, even if it was very small, that humans had already established some sort of presence on the land.

            There are two main routes that I take on my bike rides and hikes. One direction that leads north that follows to a mountain that appears to have a white path flowing on it, and the other is right next to my house that is full of mountains.

            The first route that I usually bike on, first begins with me riding along Rio Wrangler and then the paved street finally turns into a dirt path (that was created by humans). No matter how far I go there is always a path; there’s no escaping it. A path had already been created for me. Even though I can see the beauty of nature around me, such as the awesome mustangs and the sections of wetlands, I cannot escape the shooting range that is on my right. I always hear the shots of guns going off in the distance. And if it isn’t the shooting, it is the remains of scrap material all around. Just the other day, I found that someone had just dropped off their sofa by a dune; it has been ruined by the elements, but it still ruins the fabric of nature. It’s disappointing to me, so much natural beauty destroyed by human ignorance.

            The second route is the one I hike on (one that I also used to hike on with my pup). I follow up my home street, loop around the roundabout and head up the mountain. But just like the first route, a path had already been created on the dirt mountain. I walk and I walk, loop by loop, but eventually I stop to take my own path. Each time it is something new. Now, I usually hike in the early mornings because it gets too hot during the day, and consequently this is also a perfect time for me to go follow the horse’s trail. They usually wind up to be above the large white “D” on the mountainside standing or occasionally lying down (well, at least, the babies do). It’s a breathtaking sight to see their serenity. Finally though, I pass them and head higher up on my own path. Unfortunately, even then, natural beauty is interrupted by the telephone poles that line up on the mountainside or by the large water tank. I also see some shell casings from people who illegally shoot in the area even when we have a shooting range a mile away. I also see crap lying around. Someone left the remains of their television on the side of the mountain a few months back; another person left what seems to be the frame of a car; someone else also decided that this place was a great garbage dump.

Natural beauty, even though it is quite hard to find, is spectacular and breath-taking, but it is being destroyed by people. Ignorance has caused people to think that land that is “un-inhabited” can be used as a wasteland, but this is completely untrue. We share land with mother nature, but many do not see this.

Where the Wild Things Are

           At night, a new wilderness comes alive in my neighborhood. The life around me is breathtaking. The stars come out and shine so brightly because we do not have the city to blind the luminosity of the stars. Stars like the small and big dipper, Orion and Aries, Hercules and Pegasus, and so many other constellations. But, it is not only the stars that catch my eye, even more so it is the moon. When it is full, I love taking a hike up the mountains to see the moon climb above them. One of the best memories I have was when I was hiking with my pup and we were just engulfed by the calmness all around us being illuminated by the moon that was coming out and seeing a shooting star fly past us. The neighborhood becomes so exquisite at night.

            Nighttime really is when the neighborhood comes alive. It is when the neighbors come together around the fire pit, when we chat over some smores, when we talk about life and politics. It is always the perfect hour to tell spooky stories, sing loudly like crazy people, and dance like there is no tomorrow. Nighttime is also the time when our night neighbors come out of their daily slumber. It is when the coyotes come out to play, when the horses start walking over to the residential houses, when the nocturnal animals come out and fly about. Coyotes cry their whiny songs. They sound like little children yapping at each other up on the mountains. Sometimes I can hear them like whispers in my ear when I walk about, but it’s when I’m lying in my bed with my window cracked open when I can really hear them. I can also hear the hooting of the owls. They say that when an owl lands on the roof of your house that you will be lucky for the rest of the year, but I can never find them, I can just hear them. You can always tell when the horses are coming to visit.  They click and clack over the pavement, snorting and neighing at one another, and then all of a sudden, the noise stops. That’s when you know it is snack time.

The best night neighbors, though, are the bats because they love the hospitality of the neighborhood. One night, I stepped out to get some fresh air and by the time I came back, a bat had followed me in. Well, I imagine that the bat just wanted to surprise my family and insisted on staying. It was quite the amusing hour trying to convince Mr. Bat that we were tired and wanted to go to bed. He was a very sneaky bugger, he knew how to hide in the crevices of the house, but finally he left. To this day, my family still jokes about him and we yell out: “BATMAN, dun nun nun nun nun!”

My neighborhood is full of surprises. We always have stories to tell and sights to admire and cherish always. My neighborhood is wild.

Let's Hit the Road

         Oh transportation, oh the gas pumps, oh the prices of gas. If you haven’t noticed, gas prices are soaring! You should check out the gas station by UNR on N. Virginia; their gas prices are hilarious (arm and leg). Ha! In my neighborhood, everybody gets around by car; there isn’t really any other way to. My neighborhood is in a suburb so we are miles away from the city and many of our jobs (and in my case, school) require the use of driving in a car. Unfortunately, I have to use my car to get to places because I cannot get anywhere in a reasonable time by foot or by bike (I wish I could though). To get to the freeway, for instance, it takes me five minutes by car so it would probably take me 40ish minutes to an hour to get there by bike and who knows how long by foot (and it’s not like you are allowed to use the freeway if you bike or walk anyways, that would be dangerous).

 Public transportation is not available around Damonte; I’m not really even sure where the closest bus stop is. I am going to guess it’s a few miles away from my house which makes driving a car far more convenient than riding the bus (or rather for me, finding it). In my eighteen-year existence in Reno, I have probably used public transportation only once; it isn’t convenient for me because of where I live and where I need to go. I do know of some people who use buses, but they live within the city. Convenience is definitely a factor in whether one uses public transportation or not.

 What is peculiar, though, is that I have found public transportation far more convenient for people in other places outside of Reno and outside of the United States as well. In Lima, Peru using the little busses was a faster way for me to get around the city to visit places even though I had access to a car. I actually felt safer riding the bus than driving in a car because of all of the traffic and the fact that people do not drive defensively outside of the US! Those bus drivers sure do have a lot of experience at the wheel. The same thing happened when I was in Belgium staying with my cousin. The train was the way to get around, but I did have to take a bus to get to the train first. The traffic there was pretty crazy too, but if you’re in a train there aren’t really any obstacles that can stop you. You have your own route.

 So, from my experience, riding with public transportation is useful if it is convenient. If there was a way to come up with a design where public transportation could hit all sectors of Reno, I am sure more people would use it rather than taking their own cars, and then everyone would save gas.

Convince Me

           Advertising is an interesting topic of discussion because we as individuals are constantly being bombarded with advertisements whether it be on the television or in flyers or by walking ads (like the sign twirlers whom I find so entertaining to watch especially when they are in costumes although I sympathize for them when they have to work in the heat).  Every single day, you will find some kind of advertisement. Shocking, huh? (Or maybe not, we see ads so often now, that it almost doesn’t even phase us; it’s pretty crazy.)

In my neighborhood, there are not very many ads. We have those large neighborhood mailboxes and, sometimes, people tape stuff onto them but most of the time they don’t. The ads mostly concern landscape work because the community is fairly new so the people who have un-landscaped lots know who to contact. They aren’t the best flyers ever; they are usually simple and get torn up pretty easily by the elements. Really, other than that though, there are no flyers (except for an occasional announcement about an upcoming neighborhood party). One time though, someone came knocking on my door trying to sell me some of her paintings along with paintings of other students which was really strange because that doesn’t really ever happen and she was very persistent in wanting me to buy something. I felt a little bad about not buying one of the paintings because she looked really desperate to sell one but the prices were way too high for me.

On my way home, however, it’s a different story. I see a lot of billboards about various things. There are ads about Scheels and Barnes & Nobles and the Atlantis and the Peppermill and Renown. The billboard close to my house has an ad that about Christianity, which I think is a really unique one because I usually think of big stores and companies who advertise themselves, but I guess they are trying to attract the Christian folks in the area. There are also large advertisements on new house sales because of the new homes being built in the Damonte region.

All in all, I have never really paid much attention to ads. I don’t really care for them so it makes it easy for me to just pass them by especially since they do not even grab my attention unless they’re flashing at me while I drive or coming to me at my door.

Demographics of Appearance: What do the stats say?

As I walk around my neighborhood and wave to my neighbors who sit on their porches or work on their lawns or when the whole neighborhood gets together for our annual parties, I note that my family is the only family of the whole block that is Hispanic.

On a side note, however, I have never really understood the difference between race and ethnicity. As I write this now, I looked up the definitions from the Encarta Dictionary of both terms:

Race-“one of the groups into which the world's population can be divided on the basis of

physical characteristics such as skin or hair color.”

                Ethnicity-“relating to a person or to a large group of people who share a national, racial,

linguistic, or religious heritage, whether or not they reside in their countries of

origin."

When I take surveys, they always ask about race and ethnicity. You’d think it would be easy, but I always stumble when I come across the race and ethnicity questions. So, ethnicity is usually always the easiest. I am Hispanic. My whole family is Hispanic. Yay Latinos. Then I get to race. I am not white or African-American or Asian or a Pacific Islander (well, at least I don’t think I am when I look in the mirror). So does that mean I am an “other”? But sometimes there is not an “other” option. Well, if we are going by physical characteristics (i.e. skin color) and there are options of white, black, yellow why can’t there be a brown option? I think that would make my life easier when taking surveys. Okay, now back to focus.  

                So when I pass by my neighborhood which is in the suburbs of Damonte Ranch, the demographics show that approximately 95% of my neighbors are Caucasian/white, 4% are Asian/Pacific Islander, and then 1% is other (which includes African-American/black and brown people). This is my statistical analysis of my neighborhood, by the way, so my stats are probably off by a margin of error that I cannot calculate at the moment. Gender in the neighborhood, on the other hand, is pretty equally distributed. At the University of Nevada, Reno it is almost the same thing. There are greater percentages of people who are Caucasian and Asian versus people who are African-American or Hispanic, and then there is a pretty equal ratio of females to males. I saw more minorities when I passed by recruiting fraternities and sororities and when I went and checked out some sports; I see more Caucasians and Asians in my classes and Honors classes. Then the question that I ask myself is why it is so. Why are there so many “white” and “yellow” people and so few “black” and “brown” people? (Does it even matter that there is a difference?) Is it because of the area? Or cost? Or culture? I could propose reasons, more like guesses, for why I think this may be so, but I really do not know the reason why. I think I would further like to research as to find some reasons why.

There are stereotypes in this world by the way people look; unfortunately, I don’t think we as a species could overlook the way someone appears. We are different, but that is not a bad thing either. Anyways, stereotypes can be positive or negative. I found a picture online of the globe being divided up by stereotypes.

 

 

 

                I thought it was interesting how the globe was divided and then how those sections were labeled. I don’t really feel comfortable analyzing why the stereotypes are the way they are; race/ethnicity is always a touchy subject, so I don’t think I will but I might if I plan to make this topic my research paper for the class.

                Overall, demographics of looks reveal that there is a difference. A BIG difference. Now the question becomes: Why?

Actions Speak Louder than Words

I always wish that I was more involved in my community by changing the way I live my own life. Michael Jackson wrote a great song that demonstrated this idea of how powerful it is to change the way you live in order to make a positive change in your world. The song, by the way, is called Man in the Mirror and I think we could all learn an important lesson. To be educated, to be motivated, and to contribute are the greatest keys in this world.

In my neighborhood, many of my neighbors have grown gardens that supply them with organic greens which not only reduce their carbon footprint but also provide our street with healthy foods. Unfortunately, however, my family has yet to start a garden, but we are getting there getting the advice of some of the “green thumbs” around us. My family does go to Farmer’s Market, but we do not go as frequently as we would like to. A good friend of mine told me that she signed up for a program that sends her locally-farmed greens every week from the months of May to September; I think, maybe, next year my family should sign up for this program too because it is not only healthy but it helps the local community. Thinking about something, however, is not the same thing as acting, and that is what I need to do more of.

The two main stores I do grocery shopping at are Winco Foods and Wal-Mart where most of their products are generally cheaper than, say, Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s. The fruit and vegetables are, most certainly. The question then becomes: Why? Well, I know that things are cheaper because (1) they are being brought in from other states or are imported from other countries, and (2) they are being manufactured by people who only make maybe a tenth max of what the average American makes. Those are only a few reasons why, and even after knowing that for a couple years has not made me change, yet. I am missing the action; I am missing the motivation and contribution to my community which forms a politics of “I’ll get to it some other time.”

On the other hand, though, I have worked hard to dedicate my time to my school by participating in clubs and organizations (such as the Nevada Tennis Club, Blue Crew, and HOSA), and I spent eight months volunteering at Renown Regional Medical Center in the Roseview Intensive Care Unit helping patients and nurses from staying at bedside with a patient comforting them to helping a nurse clean a patient. My internship in R-ICU was one of the best experiences of my life where I was not only able to put smiles on the faces of people in the unit, but I was also able to find meaning for me where helping others was what I wanted to do with my life. I have met so many people by participating in clubs and organizations and by volunteering, and I hope I was able to positively impact the people I was with.

 There are so many things that I wish I could do and things that I want to change in order to make my community better. I want to be in an environment where the politics focuses on motivation to make positive change. I am constantly learning more and more about my world and I am now motivated to soon contribute. These are my words and I am ready to act.

A Day in the Life of my Neighborhood

             In attempts to prevent nature from “invading” the land we now wish to build upon, we see that nature has no bounds. My neighborhood is an epicenter where human dwelling and nature collide; city boundaries do not exist in this world. The limits are endless from the rocky terrain of the Damonte Foothills to the preservations of wetlands around. I define my neighborhood not only by the people and houses that exist before me, but by the life that interacts with me. My neighborhood is defined by the horses that visit to graze upon the land, by the cries of the coyotes and the croaks of the frogs at night, by the scorching sun that travels across the skies to the illumination of the full moon rising above the mountain side; my neighborhood thrives on a positive relationship for which human culture and nature can coincide. In reality, my walking routes are guided towards the East where I am closest to the vastness of nature and farthest from the city yet still calling the area my backyard.

 I start by heading up my street that still has undeveloped plots; there are two empty plots above my house which are usually scattered with tumbleweeds and contains a little dried up pond. In the spring months, the pond is filled with movement and sounds. One of my neighbors put a sign on their fence that reads, “Please be kind, do not leave POOP behind.” The sign refers to the neighborhood’s dogs, but we do not really fret over the poop the horses leave behind. Actually, their poop ends up turning into obstacles we avoid when driving up the street; Driving 101 this street has become, and I have so far passed with flying colors. All the people that live here are really quite friendly; we are almost like family. We frequently throw parties taking turns in whose house we are at next. Up until about two years ago, we used to go up to the mountains to visit the horses and give them some munchies to snack on, that was until an officer told us that we were not allowed to feed them anymore (but we sometimes, by accident, drop some hay and carrots and apples on the mountains away from residential life). Respect is the code we live by, being respectful to others like us and to those who are not and to that which has no say.

 

Me feeding some carrots to some of the neighborhood’s horses. January 2012

 

Once I finished the climb up my street, I found a surprise neighborhood guest. Why it was no other than the neighborhood horse, Solo. (Well, that is my name for him). He is a lonely mustang that roams around the neighborhood looking for some greens to chow on. The story goes that he once had a partner and they used to walk together all around the Damonte region. Unfortunately, one night when the moon was not full, she was hit by a car by a distracted driver. Now Solo, true to his name, travels by himself without a herd, without a friend. I passed by him giving him his wish of solidarity.

 

Solo, the neighborhood’s mustang.

 

I approached the little blocker that the city built to prevent the horses from getting into the residential development. Years before there used to be a metal gate that blocked the main opening where the horses could pass into the neighborhood and where people could go hiking up the mountains ahead. Well, some idiots that were not from my “residential neighborhood” were too lazy to get out of their cars so they just drove into the gate and would ride away. Well, eventually, the city got tired of continually having to replace the metal gate, so they instead installed an even more brilliant blocker  that would not only try to prevent the horses from getting in but would also make it easier for the idiots who drive up the mountainside from getting out of their cars. They installed a cattle guard. Now, a cattle guard is used to warn livestock from passing over it because if a cow (for instance) does try to walk across, it senses the gaps in between and gets startled. A cattle guard basically looks like a hole that is dug up and steel bars are lined horizontally (and a few are lined vertically) creating gaps of about 3-4 inches. However, this cattle guard was not meant for horses because it was not the appropriate size in which if a horse got its foot stuck, it would be able to take it right out with the knowledge to no longer pass across it. This cattle guard was a death trap. One morning, a herd was trying to pass by it to graze on the grass some twenty feet away. The lead mare was the individual to test out this odd contraption lying on the ground, and in sheer need for food she took the risk and crossed. She got stuck and later had to be euthanized. She was the leader of her herd and the mother of three. That tragic incident was the start of my community’s cry to get rid of the cattle guard and to stop this nonsense of attempting to immobilize nature. After the mare’s death, the city put other bars in between the gaps of the cattle guard so that the other horses would not get stuck. As of today, it has remained this way and although the continued existence of those hunks of metal bring back despondent images, no horse has had to face that end again.

 

A horse roams around by today’s still unwanted cattle guard

I continued my journey east towards the mountains away from the city, away from the housing, away from people to visit my other neighbors, the horses. The route is a relatively short distance, but is still a little strenuous. I was not only in complete exposure to the morning sun, but had to walk on the sloped mountainsides. In the beginning, the route was not too tough (it gets your heart rate going though), but as you get higher, the path becomes your own. It is rocky and dusty and bushy and hot, but the destination is worth it. The horses, in the summertime, like to move higher up where the trees are and so that is where I have to go. I finally saw their faces and I watched their behavior and observed how they reacted to mine. Once I sensed that they were comfortable with my presence, I walked closer to them while leaving an appropriate distance. These horses are truly beautiful; they are a family of their own, living among us, living with us. I moved onward to find new discoveries in my neighborhood.

A herd of horses

 

Four years ago, this growing development was built under a pretense where people and nature had to be separated. Barriers were constructed to prevent nature from getting in. A tragic event opened up the eyes in my community to shun the city for employing ways to allow separation to exist turning it into what I now call my neighborhood. Although I wish that some things were different (such as that cattle guard that still remains on the ground yet not serving its purpose), my neighborhood is the way it should be. People and nature coincide merrily. An authentic relationship exists were people do not say this is my land, but this land is ours. The horses come visit the houses and I go to visit the mountains of my backyard. A walk in my neighborhood is filled with new adventures and surprises. You never know when you’ll stumble across a neighbor watering their grass or grazing on it.