New Year, New Alternatives for Automobile Consumers

By Luis Roca

Assimilation: From Futbol to Football

The immigrant experience can be quite difficult without assimilation.
Learning a new language and culture brings new elements to anyone's life, and enjoying what you learn makes all the differences.
So after coming to America, you may like barbecue ribs as you like ceviche, or jam to hip-hop music as you do to Spanish rock, whatever the case is, embracing the new as your own can be the clue for a better life wherever you go.
And if somebody said that American Football is not for Hispanic people, then he or she needs to live in the U.S. long enough to know that passion for futbol (soccer) can merge into love for football.
Check out the people from FIU, a multicultural university, celebrating their first football championship.


*All video is original

Not Only What You Like

Like most courses, Multiethnic Reporting is what ever you make of it, but unlike other courses MR is also whatever the class makes of you.
Through the, somehow, forced encounters with the others (those who look or appear completely different from us) we (or I) experienced the trill of the unknown, the challenge of the equal perception, the difficult task of looking beyond the surface and specially the mind changing exercise of reporting in a fare way.
Fare may not be politically correct all the time, it goes beyond that.
Being equal may have nothing to do with getting along with all ethnicities as you get along with your people .
And too look beyond any surface, you need to let people show you and talk to them without fears or restrictions.
If I look objectively to what I got from MultiEthnic Reporting Course it may not be much: A blog (that i quit like and will continue), a couple stories, a bunch of new places that I would not ever known and a whole spectrum of people with backgrounds and stories that are invaluable.
On the subjective level there is so much to be said, but of course I'll be falling on the subjectivity of the results and they may not be taken as seriously. However, I can say that Multiethnic Reporting can teach you that a black is always going to be a black, but a black reporter is always going to be a back reporter too, so you have to be you, authentic, and just aware of what is out there and be able to capture it as it is, not as you like it to be, or as you are.

All Are Welcome But This Is For Women Kind Of Place

Wilton Manners- Loud music, cold beers and lots of women may sound like the typical night in Ft. Lauderdale, not if you are at New Moon Bar where the ladies pick their couples, the music and even their own fights.

“This is the most popular lesbian bar in Ft. Lauderdale and everybody knows that,” said Kendra Olivos a 22 year-old film student.


New Moon, located at the heart of Wilton Manners in Ft. Lauderdale, is an upscale but fun-loving spot where anything goes.
The owner, Carol M. encourage costumers to “come as you are,” but she is also quick to stop any over-disturbing behaviors.
This was the case last Friday, on karaoke night, when Kelly, a girl celebrating her birthday, was kicked out for picking a fight with Brandy. Carol, the owner, acted as the security guy and dragged the enraged girl out. Later, the owner acted as an intermediary between the two fighting girls, because the brawl didn’t ended there, it continued into the parking lot.
“The birthday girl is a regular,” said the bartender, “and Carol cares about the costumers.”
The party continued inside, and at the end of the night girls were singing in a happy mood, talking about everything, planning the after party and asking for one more last call in the bar.
“We are no different that everybody else, only when we want too to be.” Said Olivos.

Roger Waters Keeps Breaking The Wall

Luis Roca
Fort Lauderdale
November 14

Roger Waters was back in town. Yes, the legendary Pink Floyd member, author of many of the most famous songs of the epic band. Roger Waters, the living legend of a band that has transcended time, nationalities, languages and even age. I don’t say it only because I love his music, or because I am aware of the millions of albums sold by his band, but mostly I say it because I presence, for second time, what his music can accomplish from a stage.
This time the Bank Atlantic Center in Fort Lauderdale had the honored to receive the 67-year-old musician and his band performing The Wall Tour for first time in two decades.

“It’s there anybody out there,” Waters shout at the beginning of the concert creating the delirium of the crowd in that cool Saturday night.
Just like a few years ago, when he performed in West Palm Beach, the venue was sold-out, and crowded with such a diverse group that it could had been the show of any type of band. This is not a surprise, since South Florida is quite a mix, but still picturesque to see how similar and different at the same time we can be when it comes to music.
Diego Alonso, a Peruvian native, told me, “The music got no flags. I didn’t even know what the lyrics were saying when I started listening to Pink Floyd, but still I got the idea and the feeling trough the awesome music.”
Davis Samons, an Indiana-born-man in his 40s told me, “This is eternal, I brought my son that is 13 and he loves “The Wall,” I love Pink Floyd all the way and it’s incredible to be in the same page with mi kid.”
It sure was amazing to see how moved the spectators were.
How a real size replica of a First World War plane flew over the arena firing lights into the public.
How a gigantic pig with no strings float over the astonished audience.
How the images of a real soldier reencountering his daughter made more than a few let go some tears down.
Or how an army of red and black hammers marched along the famous wall.
But if there was a moment that capture the scene of music transcending time, ages and nationalities, that was the moment when Waters perform The Wall Part 2.
A group of 16 Broward students joined the musicians in the stage to shout out the everlasting chorus “Hey teacher leave the kids along…” And they sure brought down a 20-feet- high- malicious-teacher-puppet that was creeping out from side to side in the boards.
The two hours of unforgettable music was accompany by a great show of lights and the projection of intense images in a huge wall that was built brick by brick all throughout the show.
At the end, the wall was brought down, the multicolor rain of victory felt over the stage, the band hugged and Waters said, “Thank you Fort Lauderdale.” The public gave him and the band a long standing ovation that extended all the way into the parking lot with shouts of “Hey Ho Let’s go!”

Poesia: Naturalization Day

By Luis Roca



It doesn’t matter where you are, the sun will set in the West
You may be sitting in a dinner or in a cantina,
Dora may explore how to teach Spanish to your kids,
Margaret may be the red-haired mannequin who decides your visa
Dreams, desires, fears and spontaneity may be written in a thousand languages
And you should be ready to be more than just a rug named Flag

You remember using it as a river towel, also as your rival fighting gloves, but today it is your welcoming flag,
But to know if it is a vacation, look out the window first and see if you are in Guantanamo or in Key West
Steps are all over the road; you just need to read the sand-script language.
Assimilation is much easier after 69 miles of pleasures with blonds and morenas in a cantina,
And at the end it doesn’t matter if you went through barbed wire or first-class seats to get your visas
Your son is happy that’s all what matters and you know those who don’t lie are kids

Empty-heads call them anchor babies, but for you they are the fruit of life, your kids
And life wraps around in changing colors and forms that some call flags
And higher decisions can determine the outcome, but not your freedom, but at the end of the day yes, it’s an American visa
And those simplicities make all the differences when you look to the West
Because even though you can fix the world in a cantina
You need to follow the policies, fit in the system and drive under the same language

So you take your Indian-American girlfriend to watch an Argentinean film and get lost in translation, saliva and language,
So your son says to you “I love Taco Bell” and you know he is being him, truthful, a kid,
So you say fuck all the politically correctly incoherence and head back to the cantina
So you speed all the way in your El Camino listening to rap music avoiding being flagged
By the police. So you rely on your GPS and forget there are any real frontiers or directions others than East or West.
And you forget your status quo and get ready to blow up your Master Card and Visa

But rather abruptly, you remember there is something call lottery of visas
And you find yourself breaking the wall of language
And the East starts to look as attractive as the West
And you, somehow realize that all this is for you and not only for your kids
And then you see that a bunch of colors and strips can be more than just a flag
So you start calling bar your old cantina

And you decide to drink Bud instead of Corona even if you have to switch cantinas
As the white red-haired lady reads your name, and today is not only a visa
It is the full citizenship that comes with a small flag
That weights pounds, kilos and more than what any language
Can measure, and you feel like a kid
Free inside the order, but still the same looking to the West.

So you head West in your El Camino to La Cantina for the last time, but you take your kids, your new flag and your old one and then you tell them in two different languages the whole story of the visa and the dream.

Reporting From Little Havana

Most stories in Miami are multi-ethnic by nature. The mix of English, Spanish and Creole is an every day situation, and I think the opinion of the residents should not be limit to just one form of expression (language). Let the story talk by itself o que la nota hable por si sola.

Immigration Continues, Peruvian Food Conquers.

As I said before, food is a great way to get people at the table for a good conversation. Here is a video-story that hopefully could ignite a talk that transcends culinary styles.

Is it classroom size an issue at public universities too?

Majority Supports Amendment 8, But Classrooms Will Remain The Same

By Luis Roca

November 4, 2010

Despite the support of the majority, Amendment 8 failed on Tuesday’s election. The proposed adjustment on the ballots was looking to alter the restrictions on classroom size for public schools.

From the total votes, 54.5%, or 2,626,241 of the votes in Florida, said yes to the change. However, it was not enough to make it happen, since the State Constitution requires at least a 60% endorsement for any amendment to be approved.

In Miami-Dade County along, the unofficial results showed some contrast with the total results for Florida with a rejection to the amendment of 54.81% and approval of only 45.19%.

The Republican-sponsored Amendment was created to alter the limits of the previous Class Size Amendment, which was voted and approved in the elections of 2002 in response to over-crowded classrooms.

On Tuesday, In Miami-Dade 197,466 constituents voted yes to reverse the previous limitation and allow core classes like English and Math to have more than 18 students in lower grades, more than 22 in middle grades and more than 25 in high school.

Amendment 8 was trying to ease the cap system allowing schools to calculate the class size by school wide-average instead of per classroom basis.

Currently, if a public school permits more students that what the class size cap established in the Class Size Amendment it could be subject to fines. However, the imposition of fines was recently approved on spring of 2010 by the State legislature and the determination and sanctioning of such infractions has been difficult to comply.

Some public schools had argued that if they get one or more students than what the cap system determines, they will need to open a new class, divide the students and hire new professors.

According to a Miami Beach public school worker in order to do that they will need to receive more funding.

At the same time the Florida Schools Board Association argue that fines to certain schools in certain districts will be against the State law that requires the districts to be funded equally.

For Jeanette Williams a retired professor, one of the problems, when it comes to class size, is determining the actual number of students without counting those who drop-out, don’t ever show up to class or missed the first day.

“The idea is not to over expend in professors and infrastructures when is not need it,” Williams said.

In Miami Beach Maria Alicia Nunez, the mother of a senior student at Miami Beach Senior High School went to vote on Tuesday for first time. She said it was a bit of a surprise to find amendment 8 on the ballot since she had not heard anything about it previously.

“I voted no because it doesn’t make sense for me to allow more students in classroom that are already super populated,” Nunez said.

Although Amendment 8 aimed to give more flexibility to the public schools fiscal responsibility in a time of economic stress it fail short to convince voters, who are also tax payers, that the number of students in a classrooms do not need to be established in the State Constitution but determine by lawmakers.

With the results on Tuesday election looks like keeping the state budget low is secondary for Floridians when it comes to the education of the children. However, the class-size issues will persists in the State.

Liberty City: Election Day Roundabout Route

When you drive down the highway, go under a 4 lane bypass and then a commercial plane flights just a few yards above your windshield nothing seems out of place for a normal day in South Florida, but November 2nd was Elections day and it deserved something out of the ordinary.

I exited Interstate 95 on Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. which is as a "watch zone" pretty much in any city I know (I don't know if Dr. King will be to happy about that stigma) and started an unusual workday in the zone.

In Miami, that area corresponds to Liberty City, a place world-wide known thanks to the popular Grand-Theft Auto video game that takes place in the same location. But, obviously, those are just two realities in amorphous-parallel universes . While the fantasy Liberty City is ridiculously violent, full of gangs, drug lords and pimps, the real one also has schools, community action groups, churches, a university campus, elected officials and a population of almost 45 thousands.

But why is this place describe (at least in the game) as "the most dangerous city on earth"(Grand Theft Auto)?

It may be for the flaming riots of 1980 that happened on these streets after white cops brutalized and killed a black resident(Arthur Mc Duffie), provoking one of the worst racial clashes in the era.

Or may be (and most likely) because of the drug related crimes that some categorize as "drug war" since the emergence and explosion of crack cocaine during the 80's until... today.

Whatever the case is, reality is much complex than fiction and understanding the true nature of the city will take us way longer than mastering the game in playstation, so I just drove around:

Going west on MLK Blvd. the first thing you see is a Mc Donald's with 2 big tall basketball players in the door instead of the classic Ronald the Clown. Big deal, you just keep driving. Then you start to notices benches every 20 feet, not just one, but three or four together facing each other. Ok, it's the bus stop you may say. And then, groups of kids playing in the curve start to pop out 3, 4 or 5 just hanging there not taller than 5 feet maybe less. Mmmm well... And that's when you see the two guys in the median lighting up the charcoal on the grill with the small sign "BBQ" and you may feel like you are somewhere in Latin America.

The feeling doesn't last long. When you reach 27th Ave the huge columns holding the metro-rail structure take you back to place. Because, even though the Miami-Dade public transportation is fairly criticize, in that section, which connects Hialeah to Allapattah, it looks like it belongs to a modern urban city.

After making a U-turn you may notice the huge pink building decorated with mosaics on the walls and well- maintained gardens on the north side of 62nd St. (MLK Blvd.) It is the Dade County Human Services Office, home of the largest department in the county that looks up for infants to elderlies, disabled to veterans, refugees to farm workers and all kinds of victims from domestic violence to rehabilitated ones.

In is not in vain that this place in called the Model City and lays right on the heart of Miami. Then you may pass by all your previous assumptions and take Liberty City as just another part of Miami, with problems but also people trying to make it work.

Especially on election day.

The parking lot of the headquarters of district 5 candidate Allison Austin was crowded. Some cars were coming others were going. Inside a group of volunteers were checking the lists to determine who was the next to be send to the polling places. Those leaving were caring boxes with flyers and hoping Austin could beat the favorite, Reverend Richard Dunn, on the race for City Commisionner.

Three blocks away from there, at the shopping mall were the campaign office of Ronda Vangates was located things looked rather calmed. Inside two volunteer ladies chatted with Robert Brown who came from Washington D.C. to help on the effort. They seemed confident that Vangates could win the election for school board of district 2.

Greg Burrel, who was there too, didn't want to venture on a result yet, and it was not until we were along that he clear up why he was previously that same day at the campaign of Allison Austin and now at Ronda Vangates. "You are not following me right?"he asked. "It is what it is, [they don't run in the same election] and I'm just making a living in Liberty City."

A few miles away from there, Bendross-Mindigall, district 2 school board candidate, made a stop at her headquarters to have lunch with her organized campaign team. The small office was packed with volunteers wearing red t-shirts, talking, sending text messages, answering phone calls. The 68 years-old candidate appeared relax while eating some local-restaurant chicken wings. She was wearing her traditional head scarf and was confident in celebrating a victory that same night.

When I left Liberty City the closing of polls was getting near and I new I was going to be back anytime soon to pay some final visits. Who was going to win and who was going to loose was unknown, but in the 305 you can always tie.

Opinion: White vs. Black vs. Hispanic

Ethnic politics is the talk of the moment. Actually, politics in general is what is circulating around in class conversations, TV commercials, work-break chats and late night talks at the bars. Obviously, this is because the next election is right around the corner (November 2).

For those folks who only look at the surface, this election doesn’t mean much because it is not going to result on a new president. However, for those who really know what goes on in politics, November 2010 is a decisive and very important month.

I don’t fall in any of these two groups since I don’t have a right to vote yet. This is because INS regulations are very precise on the number of years, months, days and hours that takes you to be able to decide what is better for you (right to vote). However, I do have an opinion, and it goes hand and hand with the whole concept of ethnic politics.

I may not be a citizen of the United States, but I have been a resident for 5 years and lived another 4 trying to become one. In all this time, I created my own American identity, of course it was attached to my previous Peruvian and Chilean characteristics, but that is not any different from millions of Americans in today’s society (and I guess in the whole last hundred years). By now, I know what I want in this country, and definitely it has something to do with where I come from.

Besides my desire to live in a place with a constant economic growth, good education, and equal laws, I want more opportunities for “my people.” So, in the race for Florida Senate the choice should be obvious, right? A White guy, against a Black guy, against a Hispanic guy (Crist vs. Meek vs. Rubio)… Yeah, Marco Rubio should be my man. A Cuban- American guy, who speaks Spanish, drinks coladas and eat pastelitos. But, wait a minute, does he really represents what I want, or does he actually wants to enforce tougher immigration laws and perhaps deport all those who come to this country to work but are not as lucky as his parents to get dry feet wet feet (US-Cuban migration policy) on a Miami beach?

And this is my point, politics and ethnic politics are much complex that what they could look from the outside. When it comes to voting, I think we will choose those candidates who will better represent our distorted identities, and in the America of 2010 that person is going to be defined with a lot more than a last name, a gender, a tone of the skin or just a favorite dish.

Miami Beach: Resident Without Roof

By Luis Roca

October 11, 2010

Miami Beach - Lutrell Davis wakes up at the crack of dawn every morning and walks on the boardwalk. He goes to sleep at 9 p.m. every night after securing his Bank of America 40-year-old debit card. He is a resident of Miami Beach, but he does not own or rent. He is homeless.

“ I get $700 dollars a month and that is not enough to pay for rent.” For Davis, who is 62, the direct deposit he receives from disability seems to be less than what he needs for basic necessities. Rents on South Beach rarely go below $500 a month, and the only location Davis considers on moving is Los Angeles. He says that a place to sleep other than the street or shelters is a necessity to get back in the system. A system of paying bills, taking showers everyday and working, but he is not sure if he wants to be back.

Today, Davis, who is known in the beach by the nickname Pablo, gets by with $4 dollars a day. When he doesn’t have anything to eat, he begs. When he has food stamps he does groceries on Washington St. and gets his food cooked by friends at Yogo Café. Like other homeless folks on the beach, Davis hangs out at Lummus Park: walking, resting, talking and being part of the environment from 14^th down to 6^th St. while along Ocean Dive, tourists, residents, workers and officials complete the everyday picture.

Davis says that after moving from the Midwest, living in Hawaii for almost 20 years and spending another 20 in prison, he can only think of getting rich quick or live homeless trying. For Davis, to obtain a job is difficult because of age, health problems, and alcoholism, but even more difficult because of his homeless status.

“They discriminate more because you are homeless than because you are black.” Davis said. “If you are homeless you are going to be push down.”

Institutions other than occasional shelters are not in Davis plans. According to him they reflect on the government, and if you feel bad about the government you cannot trust the institutions.

“I love Obama and I think he is a good thing for this country but the government is the one…. [Wrong] I don’t think he [Obama] can fix it because it’s going to take a lot of work.” Davis said.

Davis shakes his head when he says he knows nothing about politics, and then he remembers working on some campaigns. He is not sure, but he thinks the last time he worked was passing flyers for Matti Herrera on 2007. Today, the Miami Beach Mayor Herrera is on her second term after re-election on 2009.

“I didn’t hear anything bad about her,” Davis said referring to the mayor.

Davis regrets his lack of education, and in part he blames his current situation on his parents.

“If they [my parents] would’ve taught me some kind of music, any kind, I probably could be a good star like Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder, someone like them, but they never taught me nothing.”

According to several witnesses, Davis was arrested last Saturday night on South Beach after attempting to sell narcotics to an undercover cop. Some friends of Davis such as “J”a bottle-water salesman said that Davis will spend at least three years locked up.

“Is not the first time,” said J. “That old man [is] stubborn. He didn’t want to change his spot, so he got screw.”

Opinion: Not Too Gay, Not Too Homophobic

To write about gay subjects may be more than difficult. Just to talk about it presents many challenges. On one hand, you don’t want to sound too gay. What does that mean? I guess girly, soft, exaggerated, too colorful or over the top. Avoiding such behaviors and ways of expression, is the common rule growing up in South America, and I believe it is also in the U.S. “That is gay,” is a very common international expression that degrades those who are not heterosexual, but it also indicates some characteristics that we relate with gays and lesbians. So, when a straight guy or woman is writing about homosexuals it is very easy to fall in the “that is gay” category, and of course it is going to seem "gay" since you are talking about gays. Nevertheless, the writer needs to maintain focus on the events and don’t fall in the gayness. This means to report events with no restrictions, just as they are, but do not over decorate them with flowers, brushes of pink or sounds from Elton John music if they are not there.

On the other hand, the writer would not want to go to the opposite end either which is being homophobic. This has been the easiest way too respond to the “that is gay,” b.s. Where I come from, in many situations, most people will defend their manhood by attacking the gay minority. So, in order to talk or write about gays you had too bombard them with bad intention jokes, or just plain disrespect. Falling in this category of a writer is quite easy. As you write on the gay subject, you may doubt your own angle on the story and to prove your audience that you are very macho, you may throw a couple punch lines to the homos. As a writer you may think it is funny or colloquial to add such comments in your story, but if they are not part of the events, DO NOT USE THEM. Your sexuality is not going to be proven in how good or bad you talk about gay people.

This is my recommendation in gay topics:

Do your job as a reporter and tell events as they occur.

Construct characters as they truly are.

Don't be too gay or too homophobic in your writing

And at the end of the day go home or wherever it is and show your partner the man or woman you truly are.

Journal: The Invisible City

I turned right on N.E. 4th Ave. and left behind Sunrise Blvd. Two blocks down, I spotted the first rainbow flag and I knew that I was in the right place. The city of Wilton Manners (The Island City) is very close to the heart of Ft. Lauderdale, but is very far from the view of most people (at least for me). This city of more than 13 thousand people (2006 census) is an openly gay community that takes pride on being very diverse.

As soon as 4th street merged into Wilton Dr. more businesses with rainbow flags started to pop up on both sides of the road. Down the street is the city hall, that is right in front of a store named, Out of The Closet: The Most Fabulous Thrift Store in the World. This is the neatest thrift store I ever been into, the clothes are not only nice but they are arranged by sizes and color. The hallways are bright and clean and the prices are just like any other thrift store. The counter lady, Jeanie, explained to me about the free H.I.V. testing that is run continuously on the back of the store. “You just need two bring your self,” she said. Two guys are waiting next to a door under the red neon light H.I.V TEST. A woman is sitting in a chair next to the line; she is waiting. One of the guys in the line is holding a little girl on his arms. Everybody looks relax. Other people are shopping around; some are in couples, some alone. Inside the store there is also a pharmacy. When I walked out, two more people were coming in. The place was busy the entire time and it was only 1 p.m.

On the other side of the street a building advertises apartments with a big picture of two guys in a more than friendly pose.

I jumped in my car and drove, looking around like a tourist from another country. All this was unusual. I've lived in Dade-Broward for almost 9 years and I thought I knew most spots, or at least every city. How can the Island City has never crossed my path? I am not gay and I don’t have any gay friends (that I know), but anyway I should at least know about Wilton Manners. Maybe it is just lack of information, but I think people don’t want to talk about it too. I suppose not everybody starts to speak for no reason about a place where homosexuals are a majority (According to the Fact and Findings from the Gay and Lesbians Atlas, Wilton Manners has a 1270% more gay man per capita than the national average). I believe the disinformation comes from the lack of enough coverage by the mainstream press. Whatever the case is, I think the mere functioning of the city is quite interesting and deserves a talk and many stories.

I kept driving, satisfying my curiosity, but at the same time getting anxious in how to engage my task of meeting lesbians and gaining their trust.

I arrived at Blue Moon Bar before 2 p.m. I dragged myself through the parking lot and before I entered, I mentally slap my face to get ready, then I opened the door into the unknown.

Inside, a warm-like atmosphere hit me. Red walls with casual paintings of woman singers all around, a couple pool tables waiting for players on the right, and a big oval bar occupying most of the rest of the room. Three women sitting on stools, one was standing behind the bar, all eyes on me, and my hands were sweating while I kept walking straight like if I knew what I was doing. I approached the bartender unsure if my voice was going to come out right, if my English was going to be understandable, if my face was already turning red. However, I managed to explain myself, to remind Tracy, the bartender, of our previous conversation on the phone, but she didn't seem happy at all, not even interested.

“So what do you want to drink?”she said.

“Ginger Ale,” I said lying to myself, dying for a shot of Patron.

In the next two hours I observed too much and talked little. I briefly met the owner, Carol, who was leaving. I also played two pool tables, and got my ass kick, unfortunately with the only other dude that walked in the place. Roman, a 52 year-old resident of Wilton Manners, who lives across the street from the bar and is married to a nurse woman.

After my third Ginger Ale and second visit to the unisex-bathroom-with-no-urinals I decided to leave. I got tired of staring at Madonna and Cher in the wall and the chitchat talk with no direction and nothing more than two words with the bartender. Even though I liked the music, I got tired of not hearing anything else than recorded audio, so I said fuck it!

I got ready to leave and take the frustration with me, but I slapped myself again and approached Tracy for a last time. Those final minutes at the bar made the visit valuable.

I spent two hours being politically correct and I didn’t get shit. In the last 15 minutes I was just me and I felt a slight connection with Tracy. She even laughed at my confession of feeling awkward, and it was nice to see all her white teeth for the first time. She opened up, so did I, and then she told me about her own restrictions about talking of her personal life. She also said that the way I was trying the get to know things were more likely not going to work, so she point me in the right direction, a person that I will contact for a possible meeting next time.

I learn a few things today, one is that even in the strangest places, just be your fucking self, curse if you do, don’t try to be “perfect” and have an opinion.

I left in a good mood and the conviction of getting closer to the life in lesbian world. We’ll see