New Blog

Peace, Love, and Camels has moved!

New site is www.jetlagandwanderlust.blogspot.com

All the old posts are imported to the new site, and I will be updating from there.

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P.S. Y'all are awesome.

Home Depot

Ah, more reverse culture shock.

Although, considering I spend more time each year outside of the US, I am technically an expat. So I have adopted many cultures as my own.

None confuse me more than the US.

I was never intimidated/freaked out by big box stores before spending time abroad. But now a NYC Trader Joe's was almost overwhelming after shopping for a year in small stores like Al Safa.

Home Depot the other day was more foreign than it had ever been.

We were looking to get ideas for new carpet. What I failed to comprehend was why there were so many choices, many of which were the same color. The same color with illogical names such as "Peace" and "Copyeditor".

It was overwhelming and confusing, and another reminder that the notion of 'home' and 'home culture' is transitory and multilayered.

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Recipe #2 - Sauteed Peaches

Ingredients:

1 peach, sliced
Honey
Fresh ground pepper
Butter

Instructions:

1. Heat a small nonstick pan. Add 1 pat butter and sliced peaches.

2. Add drizzles of honey and a little fresh ground pepper

3. Sauté until peaches are cooked but not mushy

4. Enjoy!

Serving suggestions:

With a fork
With brie and bread
Over ice cream

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Recipe #1 - Grilled Brie and Caramelized Onion Sandwich

Ingredients:

1/2 of a medium onion, sliced
2 slices of bread
Brie cheese
Butter

Instructions:

1. Preheat a small non-stick pan (big enough for the bread)

2. Add 1 pat butter and the sliced onion. Cook the onion until caramelized (after translucent, before burnt). While the onion is cooking, butter one side of the bread

3. Transfer the onion to a plate, and place one slice of the bread, butter side down, in the same pan. Put the caramelized onion on the bread, and slices of brie on that. Add the other slice of bread, butter side up.

4. Cook until the bottom slice of bread is golden. Flip, and cook until the other side is golden.

5. Enjoy!

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Cooking

One of the reasons I love being home is my ability to cook things.

Things I have made so far:

Sauteed peaches
Grilled brie and carmelized onion sandwich
English muffin pizza
Homemade mac n' cheese

Something I am planning to start for this blog is a series of recipe posts - both the 'real' cooking I do at home, and the dormet cooking that is done at school.

Look for the first set of recipes in the next few days!

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Things that Might Make Responsible People Cringe Vol. 4

I have henna'd my hair before, and it turned out to be a lovely copper/red/brown. When I dyed it, I used a Rainbow Henna mix that had other herbs in it to tome down the orange/red factor.

I underestimated how important those other herbs were. Today, I tried dying my hair with pure henna, mixed with coffee and lemon juice (coffee to help push it darker, lemon to help activate the henna).

My hair is a lovely shade of orange right now - thankfully darker than when I first washed the dye out. Then it was a scary clown orange. It is starting to deepen, as henna does, to a more red-orange-brown.

Hopefully it will darken more overnight, otherwise I will layer a mixed henna over it to darken/help the brown notes.

But for now, I have orange-red, short, faux-hawked hair.

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Changing

I have just over two weeks until I return to NYUAD for my sophomore year.

Just enough time to relax, reconnect, and reflect on the past year.

My friends say that I have changed - and I knew that, because I don't think you can be away from home, being independant, for a year without changing. My question to their comments is always - "I think I've changed - but what I want to know is if it is a good change"

And I think so. My friends, those who know me best, and who have known me with all of my ups and downs, say that I am calmer than they have seen me. My energy is more relaxed. I am happier.

Adjusting to college was hard - with classes comes independence, distance from home, a new beginning.

As I get ready to start my second year of school, I am excited, like I was last year.

But this is an excitement that holds the knowledge of the challenges I have faced, and those I will face again, and the knowledge that I am one step closer to conquering them.

I am ready for school to start - ready to read, study, perform the RealAD show (so pumped!!!), to intern, learn, grow, and change.

I won't pretend I have everything figured out - quite the opposite. But I am ready (and excited) to keep exploring.

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Glory Stories

I missed Pennsic this year because of the schedules of my internships. Because of that, I missed seeing many of my friends who are like family.

So I am going to take a walk down memory lane and recap my own "glory story" from the fighting last year, Pennsic XL, last year's event, the first time I fought heavy list alongside my brothers-in-arms.

It was the woods battle. Unlike woods battles at smaller events, this was my favorite fight of the war. The bridge battles were fun as well, and I realized for sure that I do not like field battles.

Anyways, back to the woods.

It was midway through the battle. The Eastern Army (made up in part by the unit I was fighting with, the Militia), had stalled the Midrealm. I was on spear, a few lines back, ready to fall in when needed.

I made my way to the 2nd line, when Sir Gareth, a knight in our household, saw me and nodded for me to fill in a spot on the front line.

At this very moment, the Midrealm Army decided to charge. I was in the front line, holding off the Midrealm. I was killed, but we held off their charge, and the Eastern Army won the battle.

Another not-so-glorious story of last year was the squeaky golf cart. I had signed up to do a watch shift with one of my friends, and whenever we hit the accelerator on the golf cart, a sound like a dying squirrel was emitted and it took a good 3 seconds for the cart to start moving.

Basically this is a reminiscing post, and a hope that I will be back to Pennsic sooner rather than later.

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NY Week 9 & 10

The last two weeks in NY were hectic, but in the best possible way. I am home now, and so here is the recap of my final two weeks (for now) in NYC.

Week 9: I got sick this week. It wasn't fun. I actually had to miss a day of work (though not rehearsal).

But on the weekend I went and saw a play that one of the Theater Mitu company members was acting in - an adaptation on the '60's movie Persona. The acting was really strong, and the storyline/script had a lot of intriguing points regarding masks, art, and identity.

Week 10: There was a wrap-up meeting where people shared moments of their summer. I was reminded once again what an amazing community I am a part of.

Went to a workshop on the play Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo with the author, Rajiv Joseph. It was interesting to see how the play sounded while being read by an ensemble cast with a mix of accents and genders. This workshop and the prep of reading the play was the first introduction I had to this author, and I like his style.

I got more comfy pants. They are wonderful. And the guy at the market remembered me, so I got a discount without having to barter.

My breakfasts all week were Jamba Juice - they had a 'Happy Hour' every morning.

We also presented the RealAD show to the admin, and to the NY Reality Show cast (who I love). I am so proud of the work we did this summer. We came together as a cast, and I think we have a show which will make an impact and help the freshman out, which is the whole point.

Goodbyes were hard, but they were also more like 'See-you-laters'.

I am happy to be home now, and seeing friends, but I am also getting excited to go back to Abu Dhabi.

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My Room is an Anechoic Chamber

I forgot how loud the silence is here.

All my ears pick up are my heartbeat, and my breaths.

The silence is so strong it is like a singing bowl is being played.

I cannot see my hand in front of my face.

My senses are so used to the lights and sounds of the city that their adjustment is slow.

But once I fall asleep, my sleep is that of a traveler returning to the warm embrace of home.

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NY Week 7

This week was definitely an adventure.

One of my friends from high school drove into the city to visit, but due to the traffic and weather, I ended up directing her to the dorm at 2AM. We then went out and got gummy bears, almost pulled an all-nighter, and then decided that would be a bad idea. Bed at 5, up at 9.

I also bought groceries this week! Switched from my meal plan to a stipend, and so felt like an adult as I got my food for a week. Peanut butter and jelly is oddly comforting in the city.

The feelings of adult-ness carried over as I saw my face in a mirror. You know how you look in the mirror and see who you've been, who you always see? Well I saw me, but a me that is growing up, moving towards becoming an adult.

S'mac's birthday was this week. Which meant amazing $1 mac n' cheese. Enough said.

I discovered this game server called Steam. My friend had Binding of Isaac on his computer, and the day I happened to look on the website it was on sale for less than $2. I have played this game way too much.

Saw Newsies. It was fun, but still Broadway. I have become disillusioned and cynical - as soon as the first set piece moved, before the first song, I was reminded that this is a spectacle. A fun spectacle, but a spectacle nonetheless.

Contrasted with the powerful work that Theater Mitu is embarking on right now, it is hard to see Broadway as anything other than pure entertainment, with no weight or impact behind it.

And then to end the week, my mom came down to the city to visit. I took her out to dinner, and she got to meet some of my friends, and one of my professors. Some people wouldn't be excited about this, but my mom sees so little of my day to day life I was excited for her to meet the people I spend my time with.

Week 8 is technically not in NY - it is in NJ, and VT. There probably won't be a formal post about those travels, but more sporadic ideas.

Here for a bit, then back to NYC.

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Who Needs a Neti Pot When You Have the Ocean?

Also, who needs fancy exfoliating scrubs when you have the beach?

There was rain as well. But not normal rain, where there is a cloud overhead, a simple case of cause-and-effect. Instead, this rain just happened.

A gull was trying to fly forward but couldn't because the wind was keeping him immobile in flight. Philosophical thoughts might emerge from this. But I am on vacation.

I think I fell asleep at one point in my beach chair.

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Reverse Culture Shock in NJ

I have always had a perspective on suburbs - I don't understand them. Driving down a street, seeing identical houses lined up always reminds me of A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle:


"Below them the town was laid out in harsh angular patterns. The houses in the outskirts were all exactly alike, small square boxes painted gray. Each had a small, rectangular plot of lawn in front, with a straight line of dull-looking flowers edging the path to the door. Meg had a feeling that if she could count the flowers there would be exactly the same number for each house. In front of all the houses children were playing. Some were skipping rope, some were bounding balls. Meg felt vaguely that something was wrong with their play... As the skipping rope hit the pavement, so did the ball. As the rope curved over the head of the jumping child, the child with the ball caught the ball. Down came the ropes. Down came the balls. Over and over again. Up. Down. All in rhythm. All identical. Like the houses. Like the paths. Like the flowers." (pg. 98-99)


Fun fact: A Wrinkle in Time was first published in 1962. 


This passage has stuck with me through the years.


It speaks to some of the fears I have, the same that stir when I see an office filled with cubicles. 


Suburbs have always been unsettling to me, (I don't know exactly why, it has something to do with the passage above, and the fact that I am a country girl). That unease/confusion is stronger now.


I see the huge houses and wonder how one family can fill them.


I go to the grocery store and am overwhelmed by the choices and the lights. 


I see family for the first time, and am beginning to see some of the ways I have changed through their eyes. 


I think this is what they call reverse culture shock. 


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Coming Home

I am not a fan of all of his writing, but in this paragraph, Mark Manson speaks the truth on traveling and coming home. 

"Which I guess is what the paradox resolves into: a devaluing of superficial pleasures and a greater appreciation for simple, authentic ones. I don’t really enjoy the presents at Christmas anymore, the fireworks at fourth of July, or even the parties on New Year’s Eve. I’ve seen bigger parties, been to more beautiful places, and already own everything I’ll ever want in this life. But unlike before, I appreciate every day spent with those who mean a lot to me. A quiet [soda] on a patio. Watching a basketball game together. Going to a birthday party or a barbecue. These are the events I look forward to now and get excited about, days and weeks ahead of time… And that’s probably the way it should be." http://postmasculine.com/international-lifestyle

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NY Week 4, 5, & 6

So again, I am a bit behind on my blog. But I am in the city that never sleeps, which then means that I am busy.

Week 4: Rehearsals are still going on, and going well.

For my other internship Cleo and I went way uptown to pick up costumes, and then brought them down to the Brooklyn storage space. This was made into an adventure due to the fact we didn't read the website well enough, and so showed up after storage was closed, which meant another trip.

Palladium has a lot of fire drills/alarms. The one this week caused me to be walking around NYC in my plaid pj pants and a plaid shirt. The plaids did not match.

2 of my aunts came down this weekend, so it was nice to catch up with them.

I had to ask tourists where Times Square was in order to find them. It shows I am living an anti-tourist lifestyle. Ask me to find a whole in the wall restaurant - can do. Times Square? Not so much. We also went to South Street Seaport and a boat circle around part of the island.

Week 5: It was the 4th of July. Yay! I edited and submitted my Government and Religion paper. Which ended up being 27-pages long. I am now done with that class.

I also went to the Met. Went to go see the Islamic art exhibit, ended up in the Modern Art section, and saw the Buddhism on the Silk Road statues. You can spend a whole week getting lost in that place.

And of course, rehearsal and internship stuff.

Week 6: The Week of Theater!

I went and saw Sleep No More on Monday. It is a really interesting concept - there is a building renovated to be like an old hotel, and you explore as you are following different characters in a loose adaptation of Macbeth. I thought there were moments that were really strong and powerful, but at times there were just too many people in an area.

Wednesday I went to see Fuerza Bruta. Which was brilliant - vibrant, intense, a beautiful aesthetic, engaging, and interactive. Go see it. We went to rush tickets 45 minutes before the show opened on a Wednesday, and we had no problems getting tickets. Go. Again, awesome moments, and an awesome experience. It's a show I would see again. Although due to the staging and visuals, it is a mix of performance, dance, and theater.

I don't want to write much here about either show, because I think they are best experienced with fresh eyes and not much previous knowledge.

Also this week was frantic prep for a workshop Theater Mitu is hosting. Amazingly, we got everything done that we needed too.

Adventures happened at the end of the week, but it is technically Week 7. So y'all will have to wait until next week to hear about them.

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NY Week 3

Week 3 - this week was a bit calmer, until the weekend, which was chaotic in the best possible way. 

Work and RealAD were good as usual - I feel like I am doing good work in both internships. 

Hung out a bit more with Rachel and her friends from Wellesley - it is just so nice to remember that there are other people my age that aren't NYUAD - it is something we don't realize enough in Abu Dhabi.

Shakespeare in the Park is a theater performance of free Shakespeare, (and this summer also Sondheim), performed in Central Park. The only thing is, you have to line up for tickets. With my schedule that is impossible, because a cloning machine hasn't been invented yet. But what I did find out is that you can enter an electronic raffle, which I did, and the second day I entered I got tickets! I had never seen As You Like It before, and it was awesome. A bit confusing at first, but the music was brilliant. The most memorable scene for me was the "All the world's a stage..." monologue, paired with the music of Steve Martin, which is a bluegrass style sound that made me think of home. This was a show that was well done. 

I had to go pick up the tickets early, so I also wandered the park and read The Little Prince. 

"But the eyes are blind. One must look with the heart." 

This weekend was also Pride. It was epic. There was so much glitter. 

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NY Week 2

Week 2!

I stayed in the beginning of this week - RealAD and my Mitu internships are going well, they are just a lot of work. We started to learn one song with the NYC cast, and that was awesome. I love the song, and it is nice to meet more people that aren't NYUAD, because the Sama bubble was kind of translated to NY, with us all rooming together and seeing each other all the time. 

For Mitu we had to go to Brooklyn one day, which is a quieter part of the city. 

Kimmel is an amazing dining hall. Hands-down better than Hayden. 

Went to see the Broadway musical Memphis. It was good, but I have started to see some really amazing theater. The actors seemed bored - there was no passion behind the performance. It was a job. And it's awesome that Broadway is a venue that you can make a living in theater alone, but it is also sad that people think that Broadway is the thing you should always aspire to, that it is the best theater, when I don't think it is. The message of the show is something that needs to be said, and the script was good, but the performance was a spectacle - what Peter Brook characterizes as Deadly Theater. There was no drive or passion behind the acting, and so it seemed hollow, instead of powerful. 

However the show led to important conversations of what I think theater is, what it should be, and what kind of work I want to make as an artist. 

Got a third piercing in one ear. Story is in another post. But this did NOT fall under the banner of "Things That Might Make Responsible People Cringe". In this case, I was the responsible person. 

Met Jordan's friend Rachel from Wellesley, and she came over to the dorms and we all (Cleo, Jordan, Rachel and I) played cards - Oh Hell and Uno. That has been a near-weekly occurrence, and basically tells you how dorky we all are. 

Went to a Mitu/NYUAD gathering at one of the company member's apartment. It was really nice to get out of the dorms and hang out with friends I usually only see in a school/work environment. 

Saturday one of Cleo's friends was in the city, and we went to see the Highline, which is an old railway that used to run above the city, but has now been transformed into a park. Also tried Smac Mac n' Cheese. Which is spectacular.

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NY Week 1

So I have not been as good at keeping up with this over the summer as I wanted to be. But here is a roundup of my first week in NYC

My internship started well, working on a few different assignments at all times. RealAD also got off to a good start.

I went with a few friends to the Museum of Modern Art to see the Cindy Sherman photographs - if you don't know who she is, check her out - all of her photographs are self-portraits, but you wouldn't know it by looking at them. Cleo hadn't been to Times Square yet, so we did that as well that night.

Starting to figure out the Subway, haven't gotten (very) lost so far. It is also really nice to people watch on the trains, and then to see all the dancing and drumming in the stations.

Walked at night with a friend, having good and needed conversations about life and the universe.

Central Park is really cool. Trees and green and beauty.

The homesickness here is different than in Abu Dhabi, because things are similar, but different.

$1 pizza exists. It is brilliant.

I also went to Governor's Island for the art festival FIGMENT. There was drawing and political theater, and performance art and installation pieces and interactive projects, such as the Love Yourself campain.

Finally saw Stonewall. It is a small bar, off of a side street, where the gay rights movement started. One of my final papers this year was on Stonewall, violence in relation to the sixties and power, and Marcuse's theory of power, so I know a lot about the history and the legacy - more than some of my peers, which I find sad. You need to know history, or it will repeat. Knowing that those were the same streets that the LGBTQ movement started, where power was taken back, where people were beaten and fought back, is pretty powerful.

Insomnia happens. The city is louder than I remember - car horns and music and voices.

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Piercing

I don't actually know how to write this in adventure story format, but I will make the attempt.

Once upon a time there was a girl who wanted to get her nose pierced. This girl was not me, it was my roommate. I wanted to get a third piercing in one ear.

Neither of the girls wanted to pay an exorbitant amount for their piercing, but both wanted a clean and safe shop and good quality jewelry.

They found good shops and bad shops, and one knew of a place where the shop was clean, but the jewelry was homemade and so raised the price beyond college level.

A decision was made to check out St. Mark's Place, not for a shop, but for the jewelry.

But wait! There was a gem hidden among all the stones of tattoo and piercing parlors, a place called Jewels32, where the prices were reasonable, the metals good, the shop clean and licensed!

The piercings were done, and new friends were made. Afterwards 2 Bro's Pizza was had, the perfect end to an adventure!

A week later another friend wanted her tragus pierced, so again we journeyed to Jewels32.

Anyone in the city who wants a clean, reliable shop for piercings, go take a walk down St. Marks!

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Dorms

I like the Palladium dorms.

They aren't as nice as the ones in Abu Dhabi, but it feels like I am actually in college now.

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All Too Accurate.

I like ThoughtCatalog. It is my homepage. It is new, engaging, relevant writing.

And more often than not, there is something about home, or homesickness, or sense of place.

This post is all too accurate, and worth a read:

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/going-home-away-from-home/

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Storms, Ghost Stories, and Tractors

I woke up two nights ago to a house-rattling crack of thunder. Then there was the lightning, and my lamp was flickering on its own (it was off). There wasn't that much rain, but I forgot how big and loud storms are here.

Yesterday I woke up and the same storm was going on. My original plan for the day was to go to Burlington with a bunch of friends, and with the weather we debated it, but decided to still go.

The timing worked perfectly - we got to Burlington with very little rain, and then managed to avoid the dark clouds/tornado warnings we were unaware of.

It was great to catch up with some of my friends - hearing college stories, work stories, military stories.

One of my friends is engaged, and although the wedding is still pretty far off, we went with her to look at the dress she is thinking of. It is beautiful, but the whole thing just reminded me that we are adults now, technically. While college is still a protected sphere, to the world, we are grown-ups.

Then we got one of my other friends from work, went to Panera, and wandered the Church Street mall.

On the way home, they decided it would be a great idea to tell ghost stories/myths. It is 10PM and dark by this point. Not the best idea.

Today I went to Montpelier to set up my phone (more adult things!), read 7Days in a coffee shop, and just walked around town a bit.

Little reminders I am home:

Tractors driving in the road
Nature
     especially the mix of blue sky and green leaves
Speaking of sky - the size of it. It goes on forever. And the clouds
Talking to cute VPIRG volunteers about clean energy, tattoos, and India

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Memorial Day

I try to keep this blog fairly non-political. But be forewarned, this post veers into the slightly political.

Today is Memorial Day. A day to commemorate those who have served, those who are serving, and those who have lost their lives fighting for our country.

I have the utmost respect and appreciation for those who serve in our Armed Forces, for their sacrifice and dedication.

I have so many friends in the service and every time I see them I can see how much stronger and confident they have become. That they are. They are some of the people closest to me, and they are simply amazing. I believe in them.

That said, I wish we lived in a society where war wasn't such a necessity. Where we didn't have to send so many to fight and die for things that seem so trivial when juxtaposed with the lives they cost.

Today, I am saying thank you for your service and sacrifice. To be safe and stay strong.

I am also promising to fight in my own way to try to create a society where all of this violence would not be needed.

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How I've Changed

Some observations from others and myself.

I am more assertive.
Willing to stand up for myself.
I am willing to snark back (this is a Good Thing in context.)
I am more confident. I think it has something to do with the hair.
I am also more laid back about time. I can sit and do nothing, which I had trouble with before.

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Panteria

This weekend was Panteria, a local event that I haven't missed since I started fighting in the SCA (Society for Creative Anachronism). It was the most laid back event I have been to. Our camp was small, but very relaxed, which is what I needed.

We got there later than planned, but not by much. Packing for the event included such questions as "Where is my helmet?" "Where is my auth card?" "If I were my fighting tunic, where would I be?"

Once we got to the site, we set up the pavilion uneventfully, and hung out with my household.

(I am aware this next part might get me disowned :) )

I didn't really fight. In all honesty, I debated whether or not to bring my armour. So on Saturday I walked around, and sat in camp, looking at the sky and the trees. I did manage to do a round of thrown weapons, but it was nice to do nothing and know that I didn't have anything else I should be doing. I needed the calm and the nature and the sun.

Sunday I geared up for the woods battle, in my gear for the first time since last Pennsic. Things set weird, though I figured out that I didn't gain the freshman 15, because my armour still fit. I had a different pair of fighting shoes that slid as I walked though, there were a few other pieces that needed adjustment, and really, I wasn't motivated to do anything I didn't need to. So I stayed in for 2 rounds, and then stopped fighting as more people showed up.

What this weekend did do was re-spark my desire to train and fight. I am researching practices that (hopefully) exist in NYC for the summer.

Saturday was also the beginning of the epic squirrel battles. There was a cute little red squirrel who really liked our bread and tents. The little squirrel also worked in conjunction with a brave chipmunk. I think they won, because we left out bread for them.

Something I really like about SCA events are the conversations. The stories. I haven't seen many of these people since I went to school in the Middle East. The most common question I get is 'What is my favorite part about being there/going to school there'. My first answer is always the people I meet - my classmates, who all are such extraordinary people, and then the random connections - a woman in a painting class who can read the tattoo I have in Tamil, who is from Kerala and knows who Gurukkal is. My second answer is the travel opportunities. Though I am always brought back to why I travel, and what I want to do with travel as I talk to an SCA member who was a PeaceCorps volunteer in Africa.

Stories also remind me of chivalry, and the seven knightly virtues. These are the stories we forget, but that we shouldn't. They are important.

I managed to not get injured fighting, but instead hurt my thumb playing volleyball at a potluck.

Sadly, this is my only event this summer due to scheduling and commitments. Which makes me sad, because my household and friends in the SCA are another family to me.

<3

Travel Adventures

And now for some of the inevitable adventures that come with traveling.

First, my name is mis-translated on my UAE visa - it isn't written as pronounced in English, which led to the border guys questioning if it was me/my passport.

That was not helped by the fact that my hair is short now, and therefore radically different looking than all of my passport pictures where it is long and in a ponytail.

I am also not sure how to explain to a US airport guy why I am studying theater in the Middle East after a 14-hour flight. I am not at my most articulate. My answer ended up being something along the lines of "because the people are awesome?"

Also general travel/airplane tips:

The JetBlue terminal at JFK is awesome. Food is good. Reading is good. Naps are good. Also, emergency exit rows are pretty awesome - there is so much more legroom. And yes, if something horrible happens you might have to open a door. Worth it.

<3

7,000 Miles Later

I am back in the US for the summer. Have been for about a week at this point, and so thought it would be time to recap the end of the semester/beginning of summer.

Due to schedule conflicts, I am still not done all of my courses - I am completing one by writing a 25-30 page paper that is due over the summer. However, I can be very stubborn, and I had finished all of my other papers four days before my flight out of Abu Dhabi. Because of that, I wrote a draft of the paper before coming home for the summer, so I just have edits to do on that.

I also managed to pack my life into 2 boxes, 2 suitcases, and a backpack. Books are going to be a problem in the future.

Said the 'see you later's inherent to a school of nomads, and hung out in the evenings when I couldn't bear to write anything more on the Establishment and Free Exercise Clauses. In that time, I played board games, which got fairly competitive. Important to note: I won one of the games of Settlers of Catan. This is so important because it was the first time that someone other than Jordan won.

Fourteen hour flight home, uneventful. I watched movies, and napped. Had a six-hour layover at JFK, but since I was flying JetBlue, they had a nice waiting area. My connecting flight got delayed a bit, but I made it home. The connection won't be as bad in the future because they are re-routing Sachi and I through Chicago instead of JFK from now on.

Then, home.

Stars, darkness, silence, trees, grass, dogs, a new donkey, my own bed, hugs from family, relaxing on porches, waking up without an alarm, do-nothing days, driving with music blaring, wind, stormclouds.

I went to see the spring production, and worked at the Ultimate Frisbee tournament, taking photos of the games. I miss playing. I hope I can find/make some pick-up games over the summer.

I also visited my high school and caught up with my old teachers...

"You survived!"

"I thought you would be more tan."

"You loved it right? I told you you would love the Middle East!"

(I'm studying theater) "Are you ready to be a waitress?" (Not as an actor) "Oh, then you'll be fine!"

(I'm studying theater) "I wondered about that. You were always more creative - it makes sense" (As compared to political science)

"Welcome home."

...As well as hanging out with some of my friends during their free block. I even went about this the legitimate way, by getting a visitors pass. Helped the GSU plan this year's Day of Silence (I know, it wasn't on the actual day. But it is a miracle that it happens at all, even with the compromises we've had to make).

Caught up with one of my best friends, Beth, which was awesome and crazy, as always. Today she and Kendall came and we talked for a while.

It is good to be home for a while. Good to be in the US, where things feel a bit more stable/make more sense. Good to slow down and reboot after a hectic year.

It was weird - when I was packing and even at the airport in VT, it felt like Christmas. The weather in Abu Dhabi was the same just hotter, and it felt like I was only going home for a breath before it was back into the chaotic busy-ness that is NYUAD. Then, I registered the spring/summer colors and feel to the air, and it felt like summer break, that I wasn't here for a breath, but will have time to catch my breath.

NYC in 1 week, 3 days!

<3

P.S. I can now add lawnmowers to the list of things it would seem as though I have broken, a list which mainly consisted of microwaves before this point. Still, aside from the one in Abu Dhabi, I hold that the rest were coincidences. 

Anchor

I was thinking about this the other night as I was trying to fall asleep, and the next day my friend brought up the same thing.

This school creates nomads. Travelers. We pack our lives every 4 months.

And there is a part of all of us that wants that. The wandering bits of our souls.

But there is a contrary pull - the desire to create roots.

To make a place, a home, somewhere to snap back to after globe-hopping.

It is impossible to create that now, in college, but with all the moving we do, it would be nice to be able to stay put.

<3

Theater v. Performance Art

This post is written as a direct extension of a discussion my Intro to Visual Culture class had a few weeks ago - thoughts/reactions to the ideas and distinctions between theater and performance art.

I don't think a distinction can be drawn between the two. They are both mutually inclusive and mutually exclusive.

Theater can fall under the umbrella of performance art, performance art can be viewed as theater.

Both fall under the category of performance.

Theater is also not just a proscenium stage, with an audience, a fourth wall.

It can be many things, some that could be considered performative, some experimental, some classical, some mundane.

In my class, a plurality of people only saw theater as traditional theater, classical theater. Which it isn't.

Classical theater is the common perception of theater, but it isn't all theater can be.

Theater and performance art are the same in that they are performative and can shock and provoke and heal. I want to learn more about Romeo Castellucci and his 'theater of the image'.

Performance and theater are different in ways that can only be determined on a case by case basis.

One idea that I like but am not sure if I agree with is Marina Abramovic's differentiation - in theater the knife is fake. In performance art the knife is real.

These lines really can't be drawn. But I also know that people do draw those lines, and it is important to break them in order to move art and provoke thought.

In my own work, I don't want a clear line to be able to be drawn between theater and performance art. The notions of breaking and healing and catharsis intrigue me, as do sounds and light and video juxtaposed with text and acting.

<3

Cubicles

There are some administrative floors in Sama that are all cubicle offices.

It always freaks me out when I have to go to them.

Cubicles scare me. I never want to end up in a job requiring me to work in one.

There is just something about them that is so against my soul. I can't stand them.

Then there is the fact that I get easily lost in those floors, lost in a sea of cubicles.

Thoughts only enforced by the snippets of Office Space that I have seen.

<3

(Also, as I am writing this, the episode of "Bob's Burgers" that is playing in the background is discussing a similar fear. In that case, the fear of having to sign office birthday cards)

It's Official

From Albert (our course registration/administration page)

<3

Things That Might Make Responsible People Cringe Vol. 4

I decided to walk to DTC today.

At 10:30AM.

In a black t-shirt.

In 102 degree weather (38.9 C) with 21% humidity.

Without much shade because of the time of day.

At least I had water!

Summer is back.

<3

Our Town

Yes, I know, this is a very debated love-it-or-hate-it kind of play.

I read it for the first time today.

And I have to admit, I love it. Reading it after being in Abu Dhabi since January, it awakens a sense of nostalgia.

I recognize the small-town atmosphere, I can see the hills of New Hampshire, hear the voices, walk the paths, feel the breeze and the atmosphere.

They mention Lake Winnipesaukee, which is where I lived in my early childhood.

I also appreciate what it is saying. I could analyze it, but I don't want to.

Life, love, death, remembering.

The simplicity, the values, bring me back to my roots.

I would love to attempt to stage this in a non-traditional way, while still maintaing the emotional tone.

Say what you will about the play, but, as a homesick wanderer, it is beautiful.

"EMILY: Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? - every, every minute?

STAGE MANAGER: No. Pause. The saints and poets maybe - they do some." (Act III)

<3

25 Beautiful Things

One of our creative assignments for Making Theater was to list 25 things we find beautiful, in an action. While I didn't quite stick to the idea of an action or impulse, here is my list. I think it says something about me, but I am not sure what. 

1. Drums so loud they hit your entire being

2. My mom, waking up early to take care of her horse, even in below-zero weather

3. Trusting friends enough to break down in front of them

4. A forest trail, overarched by a canopy of fire-colored leaves

5. Emails that read “I’ll tell you when you get home” instead of the story

6. Power outages, oil lamps, and candles

7. Drawings made with permanent markers

8. Solitary shoes and puzzle pieces on sidewalks

9. The smell of old books

10. Crop circles made by lawnmowers

11. The sleeves of paint arms take on after letting go on a canvas

12. Ultimate players when their bodies aren’t thinking, just running and catching

13. Being able to speak to someone without speaking

14. Marina Abramovic’s artwork/sacrifice

15. Confident, androgynous dressers

16. Steeping tea at midnight, steam rising

17. Tools and scraps scattered around a workshop

18. The safelights of a darkroom, broken by the exposure of the enlargers

19. Purple stencils of tattoos

20. The story of Kali/Kala

21. The spark right before a match lights

22. Friends’ cars filled with memories and junk

23. When you see someone look in the mirror and they realize who they’ve become

24. Non-traditional colors of duct tape

25. Chemical stains on clothing from processing film all day

<3

The Desert

A few nights ago was Open Mic, and incredible event at our school that always reinforces the talent and passion of my classmates.

One such person is Yannick, who wrote a slam-style poem about home and leaving. As usual, his writing made many of us tear up because of how true it rings.

He quoted a saying that goes something like this:

"When you enter the desert you are lost, and when you emerge you are reborn"

As my first year of college is drawing to a close, I'd like to reflect a bit on that idea, because it definitely holds true.

When I entered NYUAD, I was as lost as I ever was (except maybe during the college search).

I was in classes that were interesting, but that I didn't care about. I wasn't quite sure where I fit in this school, didn't know how to deal with being away from home, and was just generally disoriented and not the happiest.

But I found my friends, (re)found my passions, and began to figure this place out. I started to get un-lost. Not found, exactly, but less lost. Or, lost in a different way. A way that is going somewhere - not sure where, but towards where I should be.

And leaving the desert, I feel as though I have started the process of being reborn.

To start with the superficial - I entered college with long hair, am leaving with it cut boy-short, with no plans on growing it out anytime soon.

I am a theater major now. It isn't the safest choice, but it is one that lights the fire of my heart, mind, and soul.

I'm starting to figure out who I am.  Still working on being comfortable with what I find, but I am in the attempt of realization and love.

I think my confidence has grown. While I am still not the most outspoken, I am more apt to fight for things, and I have done things this year I never thought I would: sleep on a beach, train in a Kalari, perform in the Vagina Monologues, write numerous papers, kill hundreds of trees with said papers, live in the Middle East, camp in the desert, work with a professional theater company as a freshman, walk to get lost in a still-new city, explore topics that challenge my comfort level, audition and be accepted to the RealAD show, and, soon, write a 30-page paper and live in NYC for the summer.

I'm learning to let go, to forgive, to give myself the grace to fall and then stand back up. I'm not the best at any of those, but I am trying.

I don't know what the summer will bring.

I am leaving, reborn, only to return, to be lost again. To continue to grow and change. But not change, necessarily, instead, to "become more of myself".

<3

Opposites

There are some things that just don't go together.

PowerPoint and Burning Man are two of those things, and I put them together today.

My soul has lost a little part of itself, for corrupting the idealism and freedom of Burning Man with the establishment of PowerPoint, a presentation form I don't particularly like.

<3

I'm Not an Actor

... yet in the past three days, I have been in the Vagina Monologues, two student written short plays, and am memorizing a scene for my Making Theater class.

<3

Survivor

One of the shows I keep up with here in Abu Dhabi is Survivor.

I just watched the episode where the family members are flown in for a challenge.

And it made me cry. I am ready to hug my family and friends.

It has been a powerful, fun, but long semester.

Home in 13 days.

<3

Summer

I know what I am doing this summer! No more voids  of confusion and existential crises about my future! Originally I was going to go to India for two and a half months, but that is too far away, for too long, for this summer. So instead, I will be working on the RealAD show.

At NYU, there is something called the Reality Show - a musical/theatrical/spoken word piece about life as a freshman at NYU.

That tradition has been translated to NYUAD, resulting in the RealAD show.

I auditioned to be a part of this, and was cast. That means over the summer I will be in New York City, writing and creating and collaborating on this show, to be presented to the student body of NYUAD once the school year starts.

The show was amazing this year. It hit all of the right points, and some songs make me tear up, even now. We will be creating a whole new show, and we have some pretty big shoes to fill. I want for our show to have the same potency, the same relevance.

In addition to working on this show, I will be a part-time intern with Theater Mitu. (If you haven't already Google-d them, get on that! They are awesome!)

And of course, I will be having lots of crazy adventures in New York. A lot of my friends are either in the show or in NY for other internships, and that will be great.

I will be home for a bit at the beginning and end of the summer. (visiting family, hiking, seeing the spring show, visiting my old school, going to the local SCA event that I haven't missed yet, and generally immersing myself in nature and the rural life for a few weeks)

I am so pumped for this summer! This is the motivation I needed to finish all of my final papers.

<3

Namskara

India.

It is a country that, for unknown reasons, resonates with my heartbeat.

I travelled there with my Making Theater class, to study Kalaripayattu and Mohiniattum.

Again, this is an experience better told in person and around campfires. But here are some impressions, centered around the night we witnessed a performance of the forms by masters Gurukkal, Chechi, and their students.

Planned power outage.
Then the thunder.
And the lightning.
Then the rain.
The sky's opening.
To the bus.
Then to the Kalari - entered as haven, a form of sacred.
Shrine lit by flames.
Candles and incense and oil.
The scent of flowers and rain and incense.
Waiting.
Entranced by the shrine.
Not thinking, but not not thinking.
More candles. An electric light.
A decision.
The thunder booms like drums.
More candles.
Kalaripayattu as it was meant to be witnessed.
The flickering of flames and feet pounding the earth.
A sword. A shield. Sparks.
Jumping and hitting and dust.
Sharp. Real risk. But trust.
Ages and skill and sweat and power.
The thunder complimenting.
More sparks.
Swords like whips.
Raising the dust and noise and sparks.
Shiva.
A shift, to dance.
Bells and a foot tapping.
Power of feet connecting with the earth and ground.
Flames.
The shrine ever-present.
A final exit.
Thanking Shiva and the masters and the energy and the space.
Earth.
Head.
Heart.
The storm as a compliment to the power.
The fresh smell of rain.
Cleansed.

<3

I've Been Here for a While

When I saw a news heading for something that happened in the "Gulf", my mind did not immediately jump to the Gulf of Mexico.

Instead I thought of where I am now. In one of the Gulf countries.

And that got me thinking how long I have been away from 'home' for. I am using 'home' in this sense to refer to Vermont, to the States.

This semester seemed to go by so quickly, but it has felt like so much longer away from home. More permanent.

Which, in a way, I guess it is. As freshman year is drawing to a close (how did that happen?) I am facing the reality that this is my life.

I am an adult(ish).

I'm in college, trying to find/forge my own path, with all of the uncertainties and changes that brings.

In 27 days I will be 'home'. I can't wait to hug my family, my friends, my dogs, to see trees and stars again.

I just wonder how much I have changed. Because I know I have, but I also know I can't see all those differences. I hope I still fit.

<3

Only at NYUAD #2

When it rains more than normal, (and by that I mean actual rain one day, and then showers over the next week), everyone is psyched.

Walking to class is awesome because it is raining! There is weather! It does exist!

But then there are suspicions that it is not nature-made rain.

And it still doesn't matter, at least to me. Rain is rain.

<3

"Where are you from?"

"Vermont"

"That explains the Birkenstocks"

Travel Guide

This applies to all things.

<3

Fear

I am not talking about scary fears (things such as evil clowns, heights, snakes).

I am talking about quieter fears.

The realization of how far away from home I am. How distant from there.

How much I have changed.

How those changes are going to be seen.

Letting people in. Trusting.

Becoming not just comfortable, but confident in myself.

These fears aren't physically manifested. That makes them worse. I can try to hide from them, avoid them, in spite of and because I know facing them is inevitable, and moreover, a good thing. To make art, to connect, the mask has to fall.

And that leap is a fearful one.

"We try to escape the truth about ourselves, whereas here we are invited to stop and take a closer look. We are afraid of being changed into pillars of salt if we turn around, like Lot's wife." Grotowski, on the role of the theater and actor/spectator relationship.

I am in the attempt of facing these fears.

<3

Things That Might Make Responsible People Cringe Vol. 3

I am an intended theater major.

<3

Singing Sand

aka Spring Break. 

The first part of break I spent in Sama, getting ahead on work, getting caught up on various TV shows, and hanging out with my friends who were still in the tower. I also had the best meal, (after an afternoon of Settlers of Catan), since getting to Abu Dhabi courtesy of some of the lovely inhabitants of 703 - Cleo, Sachi, and Mandy (and Jordan, the honorary roommate).  What was learned from the board games is that I can be kinda competitive.  Which apparently people didn’t really know.

Then I departed for the school trip around the Seven Emirates and Oman.

The first day we drove to Qasr al Sarab, which is a resort in the middle of the desert in Abu Dhabi about 15Km (~9Mi) away from Saudi Arabia. On the drive there, which involved going through the desert for quite a chunk of time, I kept thinking about spaces that humans are not meant to be- places that are so sacred and removed that the environment itself repels humans and our interfering ways.

Once there, we made the sand sing. I don’t know how, and I don’t want to know. Some things should stay a wonder.

Then we drove what was supposed to be a 5-hour drive. It was 7. I got just enough sleep to be awake when we got to the hotel. Later the same day, we got up for breakfast. And there was pork. Now, I don’t actually really like pork. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or hungrier.

Next we went to Oman and took a tour of the Wadi. The driver of our car was awesome, and we were blasting Rihanna, driving through the mountains.

Songs have memories with them. Up until this point, “All Star” was associated with Destination Imagination, our first competition, which consisted of a complicated mixture of baking soda and vinegar that we didn’t test beforehand and almost ended very badly. Now it has that, but also memories of dusty rocky roads, music, and friends.

That night Sachi (go VT!), Cleo, and I walked the beach. I love the ocean. And we didn’t go into the sketchy but interesting looking building site that was lit as though by embers.

Our hotel was really fancy. Too fancy for my sensibility.  But it was a last minute switch due to overbooking, and thought provoking.

The following day was the dhow cruise, except, unlike the last one I went on, this was the area that might be considered ‘dangerous’ – we were 50Km (~30Mi) from Iran. And we saw smuggling/pirate ships (that is what we were told, and it makes a better story, so I’m sticking to it). There were also dolphins who swam with our boat.

Later in the evening was perhaps the most remarkable part of the trip. We met with an Emirati youth group, who took us dune bashing (our car got stuck), cooked a traditional meal, and built a campfire. It was a rare glimpse into a life we usually don’t get to see.

But it was late. And I take that to be the reason my journaling about the trip dropped off after that point.

The final day was the Ajman Stud farm. I was homesick as soon as the smell of hay and horses hit my nose. The horses were beautiful.

After a meal, we made it back to Sama, to go to classes the next day.

Spring Break 2012

<3

Spring

Usually Abu Dhabi is a weatherless place. Though, I have to give it credit- there has been rain (what I might actually call rain) a couple times in the past few weeks. We will ignore the fact that some of it might have been man-made.

But spring, spring is a feeling. And I was shocked to find that feeling existed even in the UAE.

It is something in the air. An awakening. Energy.

You can just feel in your heart and breath that winter (in whatever form) is leaving, blending to summer.

<3

Only at NYUAD #1

The teams that were mentioned at our first pep rally:

Dragonboating
Football (i.e. soccer)
Cricket
Ping-Pong

Go Desert Falcons!

<3

16 Hour Days

Ah, Tuesday. Except for everyone reading this in a different country, my Tuesday feels like your Wednesday.

And every week it is at least 16 hours long.

Let's review, shall we? I am in the middle of this day right now.

7AM: Wake Up
8:15AM: Making Theater (Sama)

The thing is, class ends at 11:00AM. And it is in Sama. And it is a physical theater class, so my speed in order to get to the next meeting in Sama is pretty hectic. My brain and heart also do not like making the transition from Making Theater to Electra Street.

11:30AM: Electra Street Meeting (DTC)
3:00PM: Office Hours (not every week)
6:30PM: Dinner Meeting (not every week)
8:00PM: Rehearsal
9:00PM: Mandatory Movie for Class

The movie ends at 11, and is every Tuesday.

Which means I will be awake from 7-11 every Tuesday. 16 hours. At least.

Yay 16 hour days!

<3

Elton John in Abu Dhabi!

I have always had a love/hate relationship with Elton John.

Hate, because my mom loved him. When I was younger, parental approval of a band/TV show/book instantly made it less appealing.

Love, because there was some invisible turning point where I stopped disliking his music on principle, and actually started listening to it.

Since then, he has been, and is, one of my favorite performers.

So when I heard he was coming to Abu Dhabi, I had to go see him. I was on my computer the minute the tickets came out, because if I were in the states, he would be sold out within the hour.

Not so much in Abu Dhabi.

That had its advantages. We got to the concert fairly early, and there was no one really there at that time. Which means we got right at the barrier between the Gold section and the plebian section (ours).

He started with “The One”, a song I hadn’t really heard before, then moved on to “Sixty Years On”, which held a lot of power because he had just turned 65. (And was another song I didn't recognize. Though I have 11 of his albums on my iPod, I haven't listened to all of them). 

Very soon after was “Your Song”. Easily one of my favorites (Along with “Sacrifice”, and “Rocket Man”, which has so much more meaning to me now after living in Abu Dhabi for college).

He played classics, and some new songs as well. Partway through the concert Ray Cooper joined him on drums, and then his encore (just him and his piano) was “Crocodile Rock” and finally, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road”.

It was a beautiful night. My eyes may not have been dry, especially during “Your Song” and “Rocket Man”, and the next day my voice was gone from singing and cheering.

<3

P.S. If this sounds very schoolgirl fan-ish, it is because it is. 

Things That Might Make Responsible People Cringe Vol. 2

I feel like one of the first things a kid does when they are given scissors is try to cut their own hair.

Then a friends hair.

Then the scissors are taken away, and the child is told not to cut peoples hair.

Then you get older, and an (un)spoken rule is to never let a friend cut your hair.

Well, I broke that rule today.

Because the thing is, I can't get my hair cut in a guys salon (or should I say "saloon") because it is the Middle East, and at the women's hair places they don't cut it short enough and it turns weird.

Hair grows out. And so it needed to be shorter.

So today, I recruited Jordan to cut my hair. We used what is designed as a beard trimmer. The back is (I think) a 3, blended to a 5, and the front ever so slightly longer.

The thing to keep in mind, however, is that I didn't look in the mirror as this was progressing- I knew how I wanted my hair to feel length-wise, but I forgot how short that might be.

However, I love it. It is super low key, super (super) short, but it is comfortable.

<3

Looking back a day later, it is definitely a bit choppy. But that will grow out. 

"After all, not to create only, or found only,
But to bring perhaps from afar what is already founded,
To give it our own identity, average, limitless, free."
-Walt Whitman

Beautiful

I’ve been working on the first NYUAD student production- an adaptation and retelling of the Hindu epic The Ramayana. I was a stage management apprentice to start with, and then got shifted to a lighting design apprentice as the show came closer to opening night.

I saw the process from first read to final dress rehearsal, and then watched the closing show as a member of the audience. Even though I saw the performance go through so many stages, seeing it that final time, it was like a new show- with the masks, the costumes, the energy that the audience brought to the actors- the conversation was reborn.

It was beautiful, and reinforces my knowledge that all the hours are worth it, and that this is what I want to do.

(I don’t know yet in what capacity- maybe stage management, or dramaturgy, or design, or playwriting, or directing. But somehow.)

And now the show’s over. That is one of the beauties of theater- it is impermanent, and in that, aligns directly with human nature, but also battles human nature.

Nothing lasts, and our mortality alone is proof of that. But we try so desperately to hold on, to stop time, to make things stay.

That is an impossible attempt. As much as we try to fight our natures of impermanence, we fail at that. Theater is created, and then lives only through memory. You can’t freeze a performance, nor can you freeze a moment.

And in that, there is beauty. Memory preserves, but it also elevates.

However, we humans will still strive to live in that impossible attempt. And in that, there is beauty as well. 

<3

Things That Might Make Responsible People Cringe Vol. 1

Admittedly, this title could apply to many other decisions in my life, for example:

• Getting my ears pierced in India
• Sleeping on a beach in Oman
• Fighting in the SCA

... along with other lesser additions to this list (many involving a microwave). Today, according to some, might be a contender for this list. 

I have an assignment for Intro to Visual Culture to 'get lost in the city' and document what the visual culture manipulates and reconfigures as values. 

And so I took my camera and started wandering. Through the streets, the shops, the sun, the dust. Exploring. Finding new corners of the city I too - often ignore. 

I got some weird looks, but no different than the ones in the US when I take photos of less-than-picture-perfect objects. 

There were points where I was truly lost- I had lost sight of Sama (yay!), and everything looked unfamiliar- looked new. 

Taking those photos reconnected me to this city, and to reconnected me to my camera. I had the assignment in mind, but also allowed myself to diverge from that, and I ended up with some shots I am really proud of. 

Moral of the story: Wandering is good for my soul. Photography is good for my soul.

<3

Time-Turners

There has been a lot of conversation at NYUAD lately about Time-Turners.

(For those of you who don’t know what that is, first, go read all of the Harry Potter books. Not the movies- though if you look at them as inspired by the books, they are decent- but the books. Read them. Then come back and read this.)

Simply, a Time-Turner is a small hourglass shaped object that, when flipped over, takes the wearer back in time. Hermione used it in the series, (3^rd book), in order to take a million classes. Which, when you think about, isn't far from the goal of all NYUAD students. 

I first heard people talking about the idea here actually in relation to me. Long story short, two of my classes have trips on the same weekend, and, obviously, I cannot attend both. It has all been sorted out, and I can complete both classes, but my teacher was saying how she wished I could be in two places at once, and Cleo mentioned the idea of a Time-Turner. 

I then heard it in passing in the DTC garden, and now there was a comment about it because some exams conflict.

But hearing these references makes me think about the logistics of time travel. In the Harry Potter example, it supposes alternate universes woven together.

Are we ready for some brain-twisting?

So say Hermione has Divination and Potions at the same time. (If you are super lost, then go read the books. If you still refuse to read the books, substitute other classes like Math and English).

She goes to Potions, and then turns the hourglass, and then goes to Divination. But what we learn at the middle/end of the book is that you can’t run into yourself, because that would complicate things and mess you up for life (I mean really. The idea of dopplegangers is intimidating enough. But adding an actual flesh-incarnate replication of yourself that you interact with? Freaky.)

But then when do the two selves merge? How are there two people at once? The Hermione in Divination is the same one who went to Potions, but then what about the one in Potions? She would also go back to Divination. And that wouldn’t end it. There would be so many repetitions of that moment of time, but then how do all the selves get merged back together? Because if they didn’t, there would be an infinite number of worlds running at the same time, but still a consciousness that they are there. (Or maybe there really are an infinite number of parallel universes that cross. Hence dopplegangers.)

Now that I am writing this I am (mis?)remembering that the Time-Turner would run out of time- the original person needing to be in a place at a certain time. Is that the merge? And does only one of the selves have the Turner? If that is the case, there are still multiple people running around without a merge.

How would that merge work though? Because, presumably, both of you would be in the same place at the same time.

Unless the other person just disappears when the time runs out. So then the original person has gone to 2 classes, and the person who repeats the first fizzles out into the unknown.

That has moral implications though, and is also a weird concept- you are splitting/cloning/duplicating yourself, and then that duplicate is disposed of once they have served their purpose. Which is true of a lot of things in life, but yourself?

I’m really not sure. But congratulations if you got through all of this!  And now, I am off to read Brecht.

<3

Clarification

After writing yesterday's post, my mom sent me a really sweet email reminding me that there are all kinds of leaders in the world. And so I would just like to clarify a bit further some of the intent behind my writing.

Here at NYUAD, we hear a lot about how we will be "leading countries", how we are the "world's honors college", how many expectations are on us, and how "the world is watching".

It can get really hard to hear, because honestly, we know that there are so many others with the passion, drive, and intellect to be standing here with us. We were lucky, or fate intervened, or random events lined up, or we were blessed- whatever your belief systems fit in with. Being here, you can feel that none of us even know how we got here, why it is us learning and living here.

So much is asked of us, even in our bewilderment. And I think that is a good thing. It builds a work ethic and humility, and grounds you in a reality so you can sometimes evade the question of why. Yet it can also break you down, because we know that not everyone here will lead countries (there aren't enough countries for each of us to lead- not that we have ever thought about this). Not everyone will live up to the expectations placed on us.

There are those of us who never wanted to lead a country. We keep getting told to excel in whatever we plan on doing- whether that be doctor, lawyer, family-maker, president. It is sometimes forgotten we are college kids, living on our own for the first time, in a strange country, trying to do right, do well, and make all of those who helped us get here proud. We don't know what we are doing. We are just trying to "live in the attempt".

We know we have been given an amazing opportunity. Now everyone is watching to see what we do with it.

And as to not end on a slightly sad note, here is a poem I was introduced to while sitting in an airport after realizing we didn't have the right visas to go to India. It was before a long night of frantic applications, a squished drive to NYC, and excruciatingly, worrying long hours at another airport hoping that our passports would arrive in time for our flight. Those 36 hours put a lot of things about the trip back in perspective, and when I think of this poem, that is what I am reminded of. Sitting in an airport in Montreal, darkness falling outside of the windows, us in a circle, talking, writing, reading, thinking. Remembering that the goal of this trip wasn't for us to shop, or swim in a pool, but to make a difference in any small way we could, hoping for a ripple effect. And now it is also beginning to remind me, already, of NYUAD. It doesn't try to explain the question of why, but it does bring joy to the futility of finding an answer. 


Alive Together - Lisel Mueller


Speaking of marvels, I am alive
together with you, when I might have been
alive with anyone under the sun,
when I might have been Abelard's woman
or the whore of a Renaissance pop
or a peasant wife with not enough food
and not enough love, with my children
dead of the plague. I might have slept
in an alcove next to the man
with the golden nose, who poked it
into the business of stars,
or sewn a starry flag
for a general with wooden teeth.
I might have been the exemplary Pocahontas
or a woman without a name
weeping in Master's bed
for my husband, exchanged for a mule,
my daughter, lost in a drunken bet.
I might have been stretched on a totem pole
to appease a vindictive god
or left, a useless girl-child,
to die on a cliff. I like to think
I might have been Mary Shelley
in love with a wrong-headed angel,
or Mary's friend. I might have been you.

This poem is endless, the odds against us are endless,
our chances of being alive together
statistically nonexistent;
still we have made it, alive in a time
when rationalists in square hats
and hatless Jehovah's Witnesses
agree it is almost over,
alive with our lively children
who--but for endless ifs--
might have missed out on being alive
together with marvels and follies
and longings and lies and wishes
and error and humor and mercy
and journeys and voices and faces
and colors and summers and mornings
and knowledge and tears and chance.


<3

The Future

It is an intimidating concept. We are only freshman, but right now our class is a knot of nerves over internships, classes, majors, study away...

Thinking about it, I begin to wonder about what this school is creating. It is an amazing adventure. But it is really messing with our concept of place and distance. After these four years, we will all be flung again to the corners of the world. This school is creating nomads.

I think we forget how cruel the world can be. We are all idealists, fighting for change. But then there are the moments where you are hit with the darker side of humanity. I am in a class on the 1960's, and we watched excerpts from the movie "Freedom Riders". The entire time all I could think was "How the hell can anyone think this is ok?"

There can also be a lot of cynicism here, because we can see both the light and the dark, and sometimes it seems like there is a lot of pressure on us as the "future world's leaders" to fix everything, and that is impossible. We can see our human limits. Honestly? I don't plan on being a world leader. I plan on volunteering, getting my hands dirty in building and making art in many forms. To some that might seem like a really simple goal. But I will be happy, and I will strive to make a difference, however small.

This environment here, at NYUAD, is amazing to be in. But it sometimes lacks realism, and I don't know how we will adjust to the "real world" after being here- because I don't think that is what we are living.

In the 'Sama bubble' it seems like time is stopped outside these walls. But it isn't. Life is still moving, and changing, and our roles have already changed so much from when we were in high school.

Time moves here though. There is the future that we are being encouraged to plan all out (oh, don't stress about it! But you do need to have a good idea about the next 3 years). I am (nearly 100%) decided that I am going to double major in Theater and Visual Arts, which makes my study away two semesters at NYU New York. They have darkrooms. And photo classes. And darkrooms. Whenever I think about that choice, I know I will love my classes. Yet the nagging, overprotective, hyper-realistic voice in my head is telling me I am not doing anything useful in my life. But I am. My useful is just a bit closer to the earth.

None of us really know anything about our futures. We are young. And my philosophy right now is to follow what I love and what I am passionate about and hope for the best.

<3