Love in Translation

Alessandra Castillo knew this day would come. Tears stream down her face as she stands in line at the Santiago International airport. Through the security glass, she can see the man with whom she is madly in love, Paulo Barrios.



He walked her all the way to security. They waved until each other were no longer in view. She called him while the plane was still on the ground until her pre paid cell minutes ran out. “I was sobbing uncontrollably” Castillo explains. She did not want to leave him or Chile. Her visa was up. School started in a week. Her close friends had warned her about the hardships of long distance relationships, and never in a million years had she planned on returning to the states with a Chilean boyfriend. She was scared to let herself fall in love, but he was worth all the distance.

The daughter of a lawyer and an artist; Castillo exudes passion and adventure. Her long glossy blond hair falls into her face blocking her truth seeking blue eyes as she bikes along the Battery. She is a senior double majoring in Political Science and Spanish at the College of Charleston.

Before leaving to study in Valparaiso, Castillo had been a permanent fixture in Charleston’s green community. As the president of Alliance for Planet Earth club at the College of Charleston she forged change in her community typically unheard of from the semi-dormant student club before her leadership. With Castillo at the helm, Alliance for Planet Earth held the College of Charleston’s first ever trash audit, giving the club and the campus a lot of attention from local media. While still at the reins, Alliance for Planet Earth helped shut down a coal plant and received a $25,000 grant to increase the recycling program on campus.

“Paulooooo” she coos as the Skype video opens on her laptop. “There has not been one day since I have left Valparaiso that we have not heard each others voices,” she says. Barrios is an engineering student at Pontifica Catolica Universidad in Valparaiso where he also works at an oil refinery to support his family.

Castillo was the first American girl that he had ever met. "I thought that Americans were more distant and not very sociable, but when I met Alessandra and her friends I realized that Americans are very similar to Chileans," explains Barrios. On paper due to their contrasting career paths one would not assume that these two would hit it off.

“It was the best week of my life,” Castillo says, recalling her first meeting with Barrios at a local dance club in Valparaiso. She was introduced Barrios’ older brother who told her that Barrios was a cyclist and being a bike enthusiast herself, she knew she had to meet this guy. Barrios bought her a drink, exchanged phone numbers, and the two became virtually inseparable. The two would go on long walks or visit bars and talk for hours.

Meeting Barrios inspired Castillo to improve her Spanish drastically. When she first met Barrios it was hard for her to explain how she felt exactly. “I wanted him to know me,” she says. After going on dates with Barrios she would go home and look up words that he had said that she did not understand and giddily ask her friends hypothetical questions to help grasp difficult Spanish phrases.

“Hola Bia!” she yells into her cell phone. She talks with her Cuban grandmother every day. "Bia, no puedo hablar ahora…" explaining that she can’t talk right now but would call her back later. Bia is short for ‘Abuela,’ or 'grandomther.' Her father, Juan Castillo, was born in Cuba and moved to the United States with his family during the Batista regime of the 1950’s.

Before choosing to study in Chile, she had expressed to Bia that she was interested in studying in Cuba. This brought Bia to tears she did not want her to go to Cuba. Bia explained to her that Cuba today is very different from the Cuba that she had known and it would upset her greatly if she went.

Bia refers to her as “mi niña” and every other nickname, pet name, and insult that existed in 1940’s Cuban slang. Besides Bia, Castillo’s family refers to her as “Nini” because at a young age she could not pronounce her original nickname “La Nina.”

Upon graduation, Castillo would like to return to Chile and have a job there. “I want to live there with Paulo for a little while,” she says. Barrios has expressed that he would like to live in the States with Castillo once he is fluent in English. Although, he does not want to come to the States as the stereotypical Latin boyfriend that is dependent on their girlfriend explains Barrios. Barrios is a man.

Saying goodnight to her boyfriend is one of her favorite parts of her day. “I used to be afraid to love. Paulo changed that,” she explains. “Mi corazón es en fuego…” she jokingly says to him on Skype. “Te amo mas que ayer," Barrios says lovingly.

Translation: I love you more than yesterday.

A Visit from the Ying Yang Twins....Haaaahnnn!

“…Just wait til you see my dick. Ay bitch! Wait til you see my dick…”

As you walk in my office you could hear the Ying Yang Twins hit single titled Wait.


My staff and I had decided we would brush up on our Ying Yang Twins knowledge while waiting for their arrival at the office. Meredith, a news reporter, used her MacBook to pull up the Wikipedia page on the Ying Yang Twins. John Pope, CTV’s entertainment director jokingly asked, “Are they really twins?”
“I’m going to need to know their individual names… I can’t just yell hey Twin one hey Twin two…” I said with sarcasm in my voice. I am the quintessential white 21-year -old, female, college student from the suburbs of Chicago. Growing up I listened to whatever was popular on MTV at the time and I was never very entertained by rap music.
“Are they here yet?,” I groaned. It was 3:30 and the Twins where three and a half hours late. While I was waiting I organized my camera bag making sure that I had extra batteries, extra mini DV tapes, a tripod and of course, my camera.
Lil Freaky, the DJ had been calling Mr. Ish every 20 Minutes to ask when the twins would arrive.
“…Hey… uh Ish…Its Lil Freaky…When are the Twins going to get here…” she would whine.
Around 3:45 a lanky, overly tan, spiky haired, Ed Hardy shirt wearing, 23 year old, Casey hurriedly walked into the C of C Radio office and announced that the twins were on their way. He turned to me “Get your camera! This is probably going to be sold to MTV…” he said.
Less than impressed and quite annoyed, I stood up and looked this asshole in the face and said “If this is to be sold to MTV there will have to be further papers drawn out… you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about…”
The color drained from his face as he apologized and was just repeating what Mr. Ish had told him.
I rolled my eyes and messed with the settings on my video camera and made my way outside to the side of Calhoun Street to wait for the arrival of the Ying Yang Twins and the elusive Mr. Ish. .
I had not yet met or spoken with this elusive “Mr. Ish”. I had imagined Mr. Ish, a older black man, with a bald head, wearing a pin striped suit that was just a size too big, that always wearing sunglasses so that you could see his eyes and a deep smokey voice that could scare any little “white girl”. I was nervous to meet this “Mr. Ish” I had heard so much about.
I had, and still have, my doubts about anyone who hires a college student that they have never meet to shoot a reality show about themselves.
I felt awkward standing on the sidewalk in front of my office with a video camera, watching cars wish by as I waited for the vehicles carrying The Ying Yang Twins, their entourage, Mr. Ish and female companion.
A nervous Casey Powers stood next to me with a cell phone perpetually glued to the side of his tan face, periodically taking it away to look at the time. Casey’s lackey looked down the street and exclaimed “THERE THEY ARE!”
I turned my camera on, pulled it to my face and pressed the red record button.
A black Cadillac limousine first pulled up with large sparkly eye catching rims, behind it a shiny black escalade and a worn regular looking grey van behind it.
The glimmering door to the Cadillac was opened by the limo driver a older black man in sun glasses, with corn rows, a cane, a pink and orange multicolored striped button down shirt which rested a large sparkly chain, and bedazzled nice “urban looking” jeans walked out. He sauntered with a hutched limp, making it apparent that his cane was not just for looks. This was Mr. Ish. Casey came to Ish’s side like an excited Chihuahua would its owner.
I then turned my camera to the Escalade. A White man about 55years-old, wearing light white wash jeans, a black leather belt, and a grey wrinkled button up and sun glasses stepped out. He walked out of view.
This left only the van for the Twins and the entourage to be in. The front passenger side door opens and a large black man wearing black pants, a plain black T-shirt, a Chicago white sox baseball cap and sun glasses steps out with zero expression on his face. It was quite apparent to me that this was their body guard.
He forcefully shut the door to the van and stood next to the van door. I hear the traffic side door slide open and shut. Another body guard in the same attire whispers in the first guards ear. He opens the van door. A lanky black man walks toward the camera and speaks directly into the camera, “Hey Charleston! Dis is Drock and Caine! Hannnhh!”
Everything that happened after this point is reality television.

Running The Chicago Marathon

As I crossed Michigan Avenue I could see my warm breath condense into a white fluffy cloud around my mouth. 45,000 Yuppies in Nike, Underarmour, and black and pink spandex, including myself, were making our way to the staring line of the Chicago Marathon.

“Go, Katie, Go!” Cheered three young male volunteers. I paused, “me?” I mouthed. How did they know my name? Do I know them? I wondered. Then I looked down at my racing bib.

My mother had written my name on the front of my bib. I was so nervous about running my first marathon that morning that I didn’t even realize that on this sheet of paper pined to my front read 13388 KATIE. I was cold, nervous, and confused.



It was 30 degrees. I trained for this marathon in sunny, hot, and humid Charleston South Carolina. My mother had recommended that I wear layers that I could take off and leave on the side of the road while running. I was wearing a old Hellen Keller Jr. High sweat shirt, black running tights, a very bright road sign orange knit cap, gloves, and a sexy tight black Underarmor turtle neck.

This was more clothes than I had worn in a year, let alone run a marathon in. I did as my mother recommended because she had gone to the pre-marathon information session the day before that I had missed because I had missed my original flight to Chicago. I missed my flight because I was rushing to the airport and was pulled over for speeding.

I took my ticket as a foreboding lesson: slow and steady wins the race in driving and marathon running. It had taken a lot to get here but I was finally about run the Chicago marathon and achieve my goal. I had looked at a map of the course but had no clue were I was going. I just knew I was going to be running 26.2 miles that was daunting enough.

I found the slowest pace group, 13 mins a mile, and stood there shoulder to shoulder with people in their late 60’s and thought “if they can do this in their 60’s, my 21 year- old self should be able to as well.” As I stood there I saw a good friend from high school that I had been on the swim team with, Lindsay Kaminsky. Out of the 45,000 people I had found someone that I knew.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for this, I might fall over and freeze to death on the side of the road” I said to Lindsay. Suddenly the sea of people started to move forward. The race had begun.

As I began to jog, I got my first glimpse of the 2 million spectators cheering me on. 2 million faces shouting, cheering, with signs, cowbells and flags; the sight was over powering. My eyes were not leaking behind my sunglasses because of the cold air. I was crying out of relief and joy. It had taken so much training and dedication to get to this day, and now it felt like the world wanted to see me reach my goal instead of holding me back.

The course went through 29 different neighborhoods. Although I am from Chicago, I had never seen the city like this before. There was not one mile out of 26.2 that I did not have someone that I didn’t even know yelling and verbally pushing me and inspiring me to keep running. Little kids and adults alike would hold out their hands for you to high five them as you ran by. I felt like superwoman.

There were water and Gatorade stations every few miles. Lines of volunteers hand out paper cups in which the runners grab drink and throw on the ground. Running grabbing a cup and slamming it on the ground is quite a liberating feeling. In a normal situation throwing a paper cup on the ground you would be considered littering and possibly fined; but here its encouraged. As you ran through these stations you could hear and feel the stickyness of the road due to Gatorade.

I have never been a huge fan of Gatorade but when your running a marathon Gatorade tastes magical. I ran 13.1 of the miles with out stopping or walking or having to go to the bathroom.

Having to go to the bathroom was one of my largest prerace worries. The motion of running and bouncing up and down is very bowl stimulating for many runners. I had heard stories of serious runners going number one and two while running. Luckily for me I didn’t have any of these problems.

I only had one problem throughout the whole race. My iPod died on my last mile. I yanked my ear buds out of my ears and cursed. Although I was furious this was a blessing in Disguise. The crowd was very sparse at this point of the course because they were all at the finish line. “Go Katie go, your almost there, there’s beer at the finish line” one man yelled. I groaned and kept running, a beer right now would be nice I thought.

There is one mild incline throughout the whole 26.2 miles and it is right before you turn a corner and see the finish line. The crowd was thicker here. The chanting an cheering was undecipherable. I saw an old lady ahead of me and decided, I was going to beat her. This competitiveness, although disrespectful, got me up the hill.

As I turned the corner I saw the word “FINNISH” printed on a huge banner and thousands of people cheering. The feeling that came over me was an incredible high; I was almost at the finish line. I used every last ounce of energy in my body to sprint to the finish.

I did it, I finished; it took me five hours and thirty three minutes, but I finished. I reached my goal. I ran the Chicago Marathon.

Anti- Skateboarding Ordinace proposes hefty fines

College of Charleston students get around in more ways than one; skate boarding being one of them. Skate boarding has a popular mode of transportation for many students. What these skate boarders did not know is that in the City of Charleston skate boarding in downtown Charleston was and is illegal and been fined up to $1082.00.
The Charleston City Council has recently proposed an amendment to the code of the city of Charleston, South Carolina, Chapter 19, sections 91 and 92. These codes cover skate boards, bicycles, motorized toy vehicles as well as designate a maximum fine of $50.00. The previous ordinance stated:
No person shall skate on any roadway or sidewalk, except those areas designated as skating zones by the department of traffic and transportation.(Code 1975, § 33-170)

Many skate boarders in Charleston have been skate boarding to class for years without being aware of this. It has not been until recently that they have been fined by the Charleston City Police for skate boarding on the streets or side walks of downtown Charleston.
As no fine was attached to the previous ordinance, the City's general penalty ordinance applied. The general penalty ordinance permits a fine in the amount of up to $500.00 and/or 30 days in jail. The actual fine is fixed at the Judge's discretion. With state fees applied a $500.00 fine becomes $1082.00.
Though the fine will be reduced many skate boarders are not pleased. “I don’t see why I should be fined for getting from point A to point B; I haven’t hurt anyone,” said Jason Embs.
Should this mode of transportation for many be deemed illegal on the streets and side walks of downtown Charleston? No. The City of Charleston police should be preventing theft and crime, not giving out fines to people for skate boarding.
With skate boarding does come a possible risk of injury. The risk of possible injury comes with any mode of transportation even walking. This has not stopped people from driving cars, motorcycles, running with scissors, or walking on downtown Charleston’s uneven brick sidewalks.
The recently proposed amendment to the ordinance even covers, defines, and rules illegal motorized toy vehicles powered by 12 volt batteries. These are child’s toys, for what reason should it be necessary that they be ruled illegal in the streets of down town Charleston. Also, why are these children playing with these toys in the streets anyways! This is more of a case of bad parenting than an issue pertaining to the city council.
Charleston’s City council needs to grow up and stop toying around with the law and focus on real issues; not skate boarding and child’s toys.

Charleston Waterkeeper

Imagine you’re sailing. The sky is a beautiful shade of blue, your sails are full, and you’re cruising. BANG- your sailboat has jerked to a stop. You have just struck a sunken submerged boat in the harbor.

The public is out on the water everyday sailing, fishing, swimming, and boating; seeing these environmental crimes right in front of them. Unless they report these environmental crimes, such as abandoned boats, nothing can be done about it. “DHEC can’t be out on the water everyday looking for stuff, but the public can” said Executive Director of Charleston Waterkeeper, Cyrus Buffum.

A new solution needs to be found to deter individuals from polluting our waterways. Charleston Waterkeeper, a member of the Waterkeeper Alliance, is a not for profit organization that acts as a watch dog for the Charleston area to enforce environmental law that protect and preserve our waterways. Charleston’s waterways are important to tourism, fishing, and recreation. Charleston cannot afford to have abandoned boats trashing South Carolina’s water ways.

In 2004 a Marine Debris and Abandoned Vessel Removal Task Force was created to clean up South Carolinas water ways. Now, in 2009, abandoned boats and waste are still polluting the waterways South Carolina has to offer. SC DHEC has also strengthened the vessel removal program across the state and implemented a fine for abandoning a boat. This current fine that is implemented by the state is not working.

There needs to be other option for these individuals that can no longer take care of these boats. These people feel that abandoning their boat is there only option, even if there is a fine. The current law fines the people who abandon these boats but it is nearly impossible to identify owners if a boat is found, since they are usually stripped of all labels and identification. A positive reward system of tax-write-off’s for donating old boats would be more successful than the current fine for abandoning a boat.

One of the main causes for people abandoning their boats is because they can no longer afford to take care of these boats, leaving abandonment their only viable option of disposal. Charleston Waterkeeper is advocating for people that are struggling economically to donate their boats to Charleston Waterkeeper. Their donation of their boat will then be considered a tax deductible donation. This will help the environment as well as peoples bank accounts.

Charleston’s waterways are important to tourism, fishing, and recreation. Charleston can not afford to leave this negative fine in place. Charleston Waterkeeper makes a considerable effort to keep our waterways clean but they can not do it alone. Buffum believes “That we, the people have a fundamental right to clean water, and in order to protect that right we need more than an organization, we need the entire community to get up and get involved”.