As I waited for the bus, a woman passed by, speaking Spanish into her cell phone, her daughter in tow. Still talking, she backtracked a few steps to pick up an aluminum can left perched on the display window of a shi-shi Melrose Ave shop. The little girl was oblivious to anything but folding and opening a handmade cootie catcher, those little paper pyramids that predict hopes and dreams, as her mother caught up with her, shaking the last of the liquid from the can, worth a few cents at a recycling center.
I went on my way to LACMA to see the film "Song of the Dunes," a documentary about "untouchable musicians trapped at the bottom of India’s caste system." A gorgeous film of the colors and music of India, expressing both the frustration of the situation and the beauty of their music.
During the Q&A after the film, a professor responded to a question, nonchalantly making the statement that the caste system in India is a fact of life, and will never go away. This may be the current reality, but can anything ever change if that is the way we address it? The words we use and put forth into the world have power, why not choose hopeful words for change?
Qué Sera Sera? Is it really what will be, be? I'm fascinated by the tension between fate and free will. Do our words and actions have power to change, even the smallest circumstances?
(I love Pink Martini, but this has to be the creepiest version of this song ever. It grows on you though. Give it a chance.)