assorted thoughts and bbq

These days I have very little interest in alone time. Usually when I'm alone I end up writing on this. I haven't always been this way and I probably won't continue to be forever. I'm not sure what it is. As I meet more people on campus, I've realized that there are probably lots of people I haven't met that I'd really like to meet. And alone time just seems less appealing.

I think this is why I've been piling on extra-curriculars this semester and spending a wee bit less time on schoolwork.

I recently learned that one of the music profs has done extensive research on Bob Dylan. I'm not quite sure what about Bob Dylan, but I'm thinking about doing some sort of independent study with him, maybe junior spring. He also teaches a course called "Words in American Music of the 60s and 70s" or something like that. All of this would definitely fit into American Studies. Yay!

The Yom Ha'atzmaut (Israel's birthday) bbq was a success. Given that there was nice weather, free food, and music, I would have been pretty surprised if it wasn't a success. But the whole jewboard put a lot into it and made the whole thing very smooth. It's nice to be part of a group of people who care. I ran the popcorn machine again, a wonderful task of which I will never tire.

Emperor

I'm supposed to be studying for my Russian test tomorrow, but I've made the mistake of playing Beethoven's "Emperor" Piano Concerto on my iTunes. I usually try to avoid playing classical music while I'm working because I get caught up in it and end up dancing around or lying on my bed or just staring into space.

A more serious impediment to my productivity is when I play a piece that carries some emotional weight or baggage. A piece that I've performed before will stop me from doing just about anything else as I listen. There are a few pieces that I haven't played but have a similar impact, the Emperor Concerto among them. Though apparently I can still write.

Each piece takes me back to a time and place that maybe I haven't been in for a long while, maybe a time and place that I miss, that I loved. A place in which I did not expect to find myself here and now. Invariably, when I hear a piece for the first time in a long while, I realize how I've changed, or been changed, irreversibly. So much is different in my life, my mind, my perspective since I performed Sibelius' Second Symphony the summer after my freshman year of high school, since Prokofiev's Alexander Nevsky in my senior year of high school, since I listened to the Emporor Concerto in October of 2007. Freshman fall.

How can a piece of music do this to me? All of my goals and priorities, for the next 24 hours and 24 months, melt away as I swim around in my feelings. I want to curl up on my bed and let everything that has happened wash over me endlessly. This stately, sublime, heart-wrenching work of Beethoven leaves me in its wake helpless, exhausted, and insignificant. I float towards hot summer nights on the lawn at the Saratoga Performing Arts Center, listening to the symphony under a blanket with six soulmates. For the first time in my life, I listened to the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. An experience that changed my life irreversibly and a memory that will stay with me forever.

lazy sunday

I spent a big chunk of this afternoon flopping around on Paresky lawn. Since I only have once class (Russian) on Mondays, I don't have the type of Sunday crunch that some others do. Then Monday nights are usually the ones during which I don't sleep.

Lately, I've been feeling a bit like I did towards the end of my seventh grade. Only a few weeks remained in the school year, and my grades had been decent for the entire year. So I thought to myself, "Eh. I think I'll stop trying now." I figured, this will be my reward for an entire year of staying on top of things. A few mediocre grades at the tail end won't make that much of a difference.

So I stopped trying. Particularly in my Spanish class, my grades plummeted. I would sit through entire classes doodling or humming or whatever and completely zoning out. When the tests came around, and we did have final exams in seventh grade, I didn't know a darned thing.

None of this particularly concerned me. I thought, "Eh. One bad grade isn't going to make much of a difference."

In short, it did. I'm still not quite sure how, because mathematically, it doesn't seem to compute, but a few weeks of terrible grades made quite the dent on my middle school transcript. All interested parties were very disappointed in me; questions were raised about what my dim future had in store and whether I would manage to make some sort of contribution to society in spite of my transgressions.

I tried not to let the grim phone conversations and lectures distract me from my AIM instant messaging activities. It really was a nuisance.

I don't know if I really want to stop trying like I did in seventh grade. I did learn my lesson, in a way. The way I explained myself was by saying, "OK, so I shouldn't have stopped trying. I didn't realize it would make such a big difference." Which was completely true. And I certainly don't intend to stop trying here. I just feel a little like I did in the spring of seventh grade.

Now that I think of it, the whole fiasco might have been instigated by my Bar Mitzvah which was some time in the middle of March that year. Not only had I spent lots of time and energy studying for it, but I had to write a pile of thank you cards afterwards, and maybe I just needed to unwind with some preteen rebellion.

Fortunately, I have since discovered alternative methods of unwinding which do not have such a detrimental effect on my schoolwork and grades, such as flopping around on Paresky lawn on Sundays.

Family Days

I'm listening to Maxime Vengerov perform Tzigane by Maurice Ravel, a piece I'd like to play. The first long section is all on the G string, which makes it quite a bit more difficult.

Jenny, the concert manager, had a hoot at my notion that it's time to start thinking about and planning my junior recital. Apparently, at the reception for my recital on Thursday, she asked my mom if I "wrote my own birth announcement." I think she sees me as a bit of a caricature.

But, in short, I think I'm right. If I hadn't started planning this recital last spring, I probably wouldn't have gotten Brian to write the piece for me. Leading up to it, I had to worry about cleaning up spots, but not straight out learning pieces that I had never looked at. So why not start thinking about next year's program? What else am I supposed to do with myself?

Joanna wants me to have lessons while I'm in St. Petersburg and Mystic. My only hesitation is that it might be nice to have a break. I'm not sure how worthwhile having a break would be, especially if I have any interest in improving, but it's something that's been on my mind.

I'm not sure where my parents wandered off to. They're supposed to meet me here now. (They're here for parent's weekend.) Then we'll go to the Family Days brunch at the J. Everyone tells me that my dad and I are identical. I don't really see it, but I certainly don't deny it. That would be futile.

Berkshire Symph soloists were superb last night: Alicia, Alex, and Tiffany. I can't get enough of that Mozart. OK, parents just arrived. Like a little tornado!

Recital #2

I wonder what I'll practice now that both recitals are over. Berkshire music, first of all! My lovely stand partner will slaughter me if I haven't learned notes by Thursday night. But I have a good chance to start fresh with solos. Maybe Tzigane by Ravel?

At the same time, I think I'd like to keep playing Mozart, Corelli, Bloch, Bach, Simalchik. Maybe I'll stick them into future recitals here and there.

I had a really nice turnout at the Williams recital today. Definitely some people who haven't yet made classical music a big part of their life, maybe haven't even been to a classical concert at Williams, or ever.

I am reminded of something Yankee legend Joe DiMaggio once said, "There is always some kid who may be seeing me for the first time. I owe him my best." Some kid or anyone, really. It's such a special opportunity to introduce someone to a different world that he or she hasn't yet encountered. Just as Joltin' Joe would run out every fly ball, so too must I not give a half-hearted performance. Someone who comes to my recital allows me chance to serve as an ambassador, to share my passion...a privilege and responsibility that cannot be taken lightly.

I'm freakin tired. But I'm also happy. Everything that I do contributes to my happiness one way or another, even if sometimes things suck. Like this recital. Major source of stress, especially the Schenectady one which involved so much logistical bullshit. But I'm certainly glad I did them, and I'm happy. So what are you going to do? Most everything comes with strings attached, and I would do well for myself to embrace the strings rather than bitch about them.

Sorry for all the vulgarity, I'm not sure what happened there.

schenectady recital

Now is one of those times when I really shouldn't be writing, but I am.

It's a strange thing to not know if you like something or not. You can't know if you'd prefer something a different way until you give up your current way, and by then you might not be able or allowed to go back. I guess that might be a really confusing sentence. So, a real-life example: If I were to quit all of my "administrative" positions to see if I liked things better without them, and then realized that I didn't, I might not be able to get them back. So if I don't want to risk losing them permanently, I can never know if I prefer having them. This principle applies to so many things in life. It is a principle that I struggle with because I really don't like making uninformed decisions, but if forced to choose between uninformed decisions or no change ever, I guess I'll make the occasional uninformed decision.

And I do like managing people, events, responsibilities. Maybe I just need a vacation. The type of vacation where I sit around sipping lemonade and vegetating.

The folks at the JCC really liked Brian's piece. I wasn't sure what they would think, but they seemed very open-minded and excited to hear a premiere. Even though the recital and recital preparation ate up lots of time and energy, now I can enjoy the end result. And I get to do it again on Thursday! Lots of people have said they'll show up, so I hope they do.

Brian and I had a nice drive to and from Williamstown, listening to much of the Beatles' Anthology album. It felt funny, going from one bubble (the purple one) to a sort of bubble of my home life, where I grew up. Seeing people who have known me since I was one foot tall, people who have known my dad since he was one foot tall. Both communities are so familiar to me at this point.

Topography 1, 2, 3

Brian and I worked on the piece he wrote, Topography 1, 2, 3, until just a few minutes ago. I'm performing it tomorrow at the Schenectady JCC along with Mozart, Bach, Bloch, and Corelli. Perhaps predictably, perhaps surprisingly, I'm by far the most invested in Topography than the others. It's exciting to play a new piece. I hope the audience appreciates it.

I know I've grown to appreciate it more through the process of tackling notes, character, and meaning (if art can have "meaning,") and it seems a shame to only listen to it once. Or to only listen to, or otherwise experience, any type of art only once. If there is really nothing to be gained from experiencing something, some art, more than once, I find it hard to believe that there is so much there to begin with.

a learning experience

Wow! What a day. I wasn't sure if I would make it to 11:11pm. I'm quite happy that I have.

I seriously botched a rehearsal scheduling on Tuesday. This has caused me a lot of stress, but everything is happily resolved now. Basically, Professor Kechley asked me to get together a string group for the (four) students in his orchestration class to read through some of their arrangements. A bunch of Student Symphony folk agreed to do it. I was pleasantly surprised by their willingness...it's not as though anyone at Williams is just sitting around waiting for someone to give them another obligation, but a bunch of them volunteered right away.

So I scheduled the rehearsal for Tuesday at 9:30 and everything was set, but then a couple of the composers couldn't make it for one reason or another. It seemed like Thursday at 9:30 would work better, so I moved the rehearsal to then. Not a big deal, except that I forgot to email the string group. Everyone showed up in the music building at 9:30 on Tuesday while I was down at Mission studying for a Russian test. One of them called me to see where I was and I had to explain what happened.

I felt awful. It's by far the worst thing I've done since coming to Williams, mostly because I managed to mess up so many people simultaneously. I couldn't believe what had happened. My study partners tried to explain that it wasn't that big of a deal and now everyone doesn't have to sit through another rehearsal, but I couldn't get over it.

So I got a list of people who showed up (nine musicians,) bought them each a cookie and a chocolate, and apologized profusely. I was really worried that people would be mad at me and maybe quit Student Symphony. I already ask so much of them, and now I pull a piece of nonsense like this.

The strangest thing happened. None of them seemed to think it was a big deal. In fact, none of them seemed to care at all. Some of them were already in the music building, some of them live two minutes away, and none of them understood why I was freaking out. One of them told me he wishes I would screw up more often so he can get more cookies.

I rescheduled the rehearsal for tonight at 9:30. This was very stressful for me for most of the day because I wasn't sure who would show up. I emailed the group of nine and then the whole Student Symphony listserve and called a few specific people. Part of the reason it was so stressful is because I didn't have much free time to organize things with classes, music theory singing quiz, rehearsal for Russian talent show, Russian talent show, reversing the kitchen for Passover, running to and from these things.

I loped from the J to Bernhard (I'm getting shin splints from too much loping) at 9:25. By the time the reading started, every single person who was there on Tuesday had shown up, plus a couple more. I was a little high-strung for the duration of the rehearsal, after all that had happened, but everything went so well. People didn't feel like getting chairs, so we all stood. All of the composers showed up and we played through each of the pieces a few times until things sounded about right. The whole thing was recorded so there wasn't really any pressure to "get a recording."

Everyone in the group was just happy to help out - to help me, Professor Kechley, the composers. They all seemed genuinely OK with, and not particularly surprised by, my reckless irresponsibility and understanding of my regretable tendency to take on too many things simultaneously.

People can be so good. Not out to get you, not poised to pounce when you mess something up. Maybe in ten years I'd get fired for doing something like this, but at least in college, we're all looking out for each other.

possible change of future plans

Today was warm and sunny and Paresky lawn was teeming with students. Eating, tanning, flopping around on the grass. There was a week in mid-April last year that was just like this except even warmer. It certainly doesn't make anyone want to hole up in the library and get a million things done.

Last night I stayed in the library until the nerd bell working on my history paper. For that class, I don't really have the option of turning it in late because he gives zeros if it's not done upon arrival in class. It's sort of nice, actually, because then I wake up the next morning and the paper is gone from my life. While it might have been more responsible to get an appropriate amount of sleep and finish the paper the next day, I had no choice but to finish it last night, or at least before my classes started. So I didn't get much sleep at all. After leaving Sawyer I worked in Goodrich (like a miniature student center) until very late.

In light of this all, I'm running a bit low on stamina. This morning I had to wake up and literally run all over campus, printing things out and getting food before class, because I got up so late. Not actually late, but only a few minutes before my 8:45 class. Though it does help to jump-start my metabolism and circulate my blood, I suspect that loping around with a 25-lbs backpack five minutes after waking up is not the healthiest way to start a day. I'd prefer yoga.

I'm just not sure how sustainable all of this is. It's really not a peaceful way to be. And my sanity is not helped by various responsibilities to the WCJA, Student Symphony, and now Dodd Board. It's not that much more than anyone else does, but in a way that's irrelevant. There are people who do a lot more than I do and have no trouble, and for them, they are not doing too much. But if I can't find a calm moment in my day, I'm doing too much. If every week, I say, "this is a really bad week," then there's a problem.

I think I'd like to be a high school history teacher. I don't remember if I've mentioned that before. It's a fairly recent conclusion. For a long while (over a year) I've wanted to be a college history teacher or some sort of academic, or maybe a museum administrator or curator. Now, I'm starting to rethink that. My shift of mindset was specifically motivated by my time in St. Michaels during spring break. Though I suppose I knew it all along based on my own experiences, a teacher can have such an enormous impact on so many people's lives in a way that I'm not sure a professor can. I'd love to conduct history research, travel to conferences, and write a book, but I'd really be doing all of those things for myself. I think I would be really happy on certain levels. But my work would touch so few people - only my academic peers, my students, anyone else who happens to stumble upon it.

I'll probably write more about this as my ideas shift, as they constantly do. Which is part of why I barely have a major. Yay!

Search and Recovery

I went on a run today! A short one, 3.2 miles around the Gale loop. I have no commitments on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from 11-12 so I'm hoping for that to become my running time.

As I approached Currier, my dorm, and the completion of my run, I realized that my ID card was no longer attached to my armband. I had checked periodically during my run to make sure it was still there, but it seemed so snugly attached that I didn't check for the last while. So I couldn't get into my building to restart my laundry or take a shower. I needed to restart my laundry because, as I realized during my run, I had forgotten to put detergent in.

I turned around and retraced my steps. Today was rather windy so I didn't know how far it might have blustered away. I zig-zagged across the sidewalk, searching for a shiny object, white or yellow, depending on which side was facing me. I didn't want to run because I thought I would have a better chance of seeing it at a slow pace. I retraced the trek that I've been making to and from the JRC three times each day for Passover meals, a hilly trek indeed.

I reached the Center for Developmental Economics and headed towards the Clark. And after about a half-mile of searching, I spotted my card, resting on the grass, my wide-eyed freshman mug smiling up at me. I scooped it up and trotted home to address my stagnant laundry situation.

I'm not sure what made me search for so long to find my card, and I'm not sure how much longer I would have searched. It could have blown away, fallen in a river, been picked up by someone trying to help me, or landed in a piece of shrubbery, and I would never have found it. And I'm not sure how the rest of my day would have turned out had I given up before finding my card. I really didn't want my day to continue until I had recovered it. So I was fortunate that it was so poorly hidden.

And the upshot? Twenty minutes subtracted from my day. Just as if I had gone on a slightly longer run. And now I have a more thorough perspective of the area surrounding the sidewalks of Williamstown. And I found my card.

busy Sunday

It seems like everyone on campus has a lot of work today. The library is again teeming with humans after a post-Spring Break lull. I have several things due Tuesday and Wednesday which I am trying to finish before sleep tonight. I'm in the library by the coffee maker and I just finished a book of poems, A Bridge Dead in the Water by James Thomas Stevens.

I sit and study by the coffee maker because sometimes people come by and say hi to me. I have a carrel on the second floor where I am guaranteed to have total solitude, but I don't think I need or want total solitude. If I work for two hours and I'm interrupted twice, I'll still get about the same amount of work done.

I'm already behind on my running...I was going to run today but it's cold and I left all of my winter running clothing at home. How much I need to run to receive credit is very loosely defined.

Today, I invented a new food: matzoh with whitefish salad and Parmesan cheese. It will not blow your mind because it is in fact a very natural combination. In the last 48 hours I've grown very fond of whitefish salad.

I want to go to a meeting of the Kaplan Council this evening but I don't think I'll have time. Kaplan Council is a foreign policy club that meets every week to eat and talk with a guest speaker (usually a professor.) I've never been particularly involved in foreign policy type things, but I would like to be. And every week, I have an essay, Student Symphony, Symph Winds, or everything all at once, and I have to skip Kaplan Council.

Ellen and I were thinking of quitting all of our activities and spending our free time going to lectures and things. There are so many interesting lectures, almost every day, and I've only been to one or two in my entire time here. I always have a meeting or rehearsal or something that I'm not supposed to miss.

Emily, outgoing President of Dodd Neighborhood, convinced me to run (unopposed) for Competion Committee Chair in the upcoming elections. So far as I can tell, my responsibility, if elected, will be to organize fun competitions like cupcake-eating contests. I think I'll really like doing that, though it might prevent me from going to a lecture or two.

I have two recitals coming up, one at Schenectady JCC on the 19th and one at Williams on the 23rd. I've got some practicing to do so that I don't embarrass myself, but I think I'll be set in a week. Though it might prevent me from going to a lecture or two.

Happy birthday Jeremy! (My brother, second from left.)

A nap whore

is what I am quickly becoming. I fell asleep on the couch in the music lounge for an hour. I meant to do it. I'm approaching the point at which I will have to use self-control to not nap instead of the other way around.

With a nap I can stop thinking about everything else. No one can make me write a paper if I'm taking a nap.

I played the final Dance Co. show tonight. As I might have mentioned, I only play in one piece which means I have about 90 minutes of free time to watch the show. All of the dances are really different - some I definitely prefer, usually the ones incluhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjh
That was me falling asleep on my keyboard, not joking. As I was saying, usually the ones with the two males (all of the other dancers are female.) Very powerful dancers, so far as I can tell, knowing nothing about dance.

afternoon nap!

The highlight of my day. And completely necessary. I went to three classes this morning and nodded off for all of them. But I don't think I actually slept for more than a couple of seconds at a time. So I just nodded for 4 hours straight. One of the most exhausting periods of my life that I can remember.

So after helping to prepare for the Seder for a while, I took a long nap at the JRC. Maybe an hour, I'm really not sure. And I felt energized!

Before my nap I had a phone interview for the program I'd like to do next semester, Williams-Mystic. I've never had a phone interview before and it was a funny experience. I don't mean humorous. I think it went well enough but I definitely would have preferred a live interview.

I'm trying to bond with my suite, so I started a "twitter" on my whiteboard. So far there has been no response. To avoid any confusion, I've labeled the whiteboard "Mandatory suite bonding twitter" so they wouldn't think it was just a twitter for me to twitter to myself. And they have to walk by my room to get to their rooms. Maybe they're just shy.

Seder afterglow

I really like Passover seders. I've never led one before because my mom always leads it at home. But she faxed me some of our home texts so I could follow along with something familiar.

I'm happy with how the whole thing turned out. People were afraid to sing enthusiastically at first, but by the last two songs especially, a spirit had emerged. I think it helped when I demonstrated the dances that go along with the songs.

I learned how to make origami frogs today! I decided that we needed some for the seder tables. They're actually very easy to make. But some of the google tutorials are really confusing, so just look for one that makes sense. I would link mine but I don't remember which one it is.

The bonfire went well. Mara and Noah showed up and we actually got a fire going and then we burned the chametz. I think we should do it every year, except maybe in the future with more pomp and perhaps marshmallows.

To get kindling for the fire I went to the Carpentry Shop in the Facilities building. I think I might want to get a job or internship there. It could be such an excellent opportunity to develop some carpentry skills. I didn't even know we had a Carpentry Shop! And I'm not sure if they take student workers. I wonder if anyone has ever asked.

It brightens my day to see people from the Arizona trip (see earlier posts) around campus. We really do have a connection now and I hope it lasts.

flake

Well, I missed the hike. BUT perhaps I redeemed myself by printing out cartoons, coloring them in, pasting them to construction paper just now. This is for a song about a ox that drank the water that quenched the fire that burned the stick that beat the dog that bit the cat that ate the kid (baby goat) my father bought etc. etc. Very conducive to holding up signs with pictures on them. The signs also have some Hebrew on them! Hopefully they say what I think they say.

And even though I missed the hike, I have perhaps increased the odds that I won't zonk out in the middle of the Seder. Or class. As Dani said last night, "I think you might be a little over-extended!" I think it's just this week, though. This blog will function partially as my paper trail and we'll see if I say that every week.

Class!

Up way too late...

...considering the circumstances. I'm still planning on doing the sunrise hike. And there will be lox afterward! Mmm, lox. I'll bring the camera and maybe get some nice pictures of Williamstown.

Tomorrow at 12:15 I'm supposed to lead a bonfire. We will be burning the remaining chametz (bread,) part of a final preparation for Passover. Then I'm supposed to help lead the Passover Seder, for which I need to practice. I know all of the tunes, but the Hebrew gets a little sketchy.

I would have gone to bed earlier, but instead I had a nice conversation with my next-door neighbor from last year, Jeff. He and I had our ups and downs as neighbors, the downs frequently instigated by his nasty habit of absent-mindedly banging his head against the wall that we shared, but we've definitely come to a mutual understanding. And it's turned out that we have a thing or two in common.

I had a good birthday overall. My ribbon ploy (detailed in the previous post) effectively served its purpose. This is a somewhat representative example of how the conversation would go, incorporating components of several actual scenarios.

Person: I think you've got something on your head.
Me: Oh, that's a ribbon! It's tied to a tuft of my hair.
Person: Ah. I see. *quizzical look* Dare I ask why?
Me: You may have one guess.
Person: Um, I don't know. Is it Ribbon Tuesday?
Me: Close...it's my birthday!
Person: Oh my gosh! Happy Birthday!
Me: Thanks!

So something like that. I recommend the strategy to anyone who doesn't want to go around randomly blabbing about how it's your birthday but wants a little birthday attention anyway.

I ended up getting some early birthday cards in the mail, and some people told me that their cards would be arriving in a couple of days, but nothing arrived today! I don't mind at all. It's nice to have things spread out.

This week is a little overbooked with the Dance Co. concert on Friday and Saturday. I have a very peripheral role in the whole production, only playing in one piece, but they need us to be at lots of dress rehearsals. I messed up by accidentally agreeing to schedule a Jewboard meeting (today's meeting) during one of the Dance Co. rehearsals. So I sprinted back and forth between the '62 Center and the JRC, managing to disappoint everyone all at once.

I met with the running coach. He is very nice. There are so many nice people. He wants me to run around 2 hours each week and maybe more as the semester goes on. I think I'll be able to do that, though I don't know what the heck I'm going to do for this week. Maybe run two hours all at once on Saturday.

day of birth

Today is my birthday! I have 15 minutes until class starts. There are things that I should probably do in those 15 minutes aside from what I have chosen to do. But I don't care, a) because it's my birthday and b) because I only slept from 4:15 - 6 last night because of all the work I had to get done for classes today. Probably the worst first 7.5 hours of my birthday, aside from the hour and 45 minutes spent sleeping, but things started looking up around breakfast.

I guess that sounds really gloomy. I'm not feeling gloomy, not at all. It just seems like I've probably never had a worse 7.5 hour start to my birthday because for my first 19 birthdays I was probably sleeping during that time.

Actually, my very first birthday (the day of my birth) might have been worse, and I probably wasn't sleeping for the first 7.5 hours, but I don't remember any of the details.

Last year only a few people noticed my birthday and then everyone got mad at me when they realized they'd forgotten it. I didn't say anything at the time because I didn't want to brag about it being my birthday. So this year I've tied a piece of yellow ribbon to my head, to a tuft of hair. So far it has been fairly effective. Even if they don't figure it out at first, it's enough to get the conversation started.

Today is my busy day (Tuesdays this semester) but that's OK because what else would I do on a weekday? I'm going to try to get to bed early to do the sunrise hike tomorrow. Bob, the Jewish Chaplain, says that something that only happens once every 28 years is happening tomorrow and so we have to go on a sunrise hike. Several people have explained what is actually happening numerous time (Bob, one of my parents,) but my mind has wandered each time, and so I still have no idea why I'm doing a sunrise hike. I'm sure he'll be happy to explain it again. He's a very understanding fellow and has ample reason to think I'm legitimately dim-witted.

Keeping the expectations low.

Today I meet with the coach for Independent Running, the PE course I signed up for. I hope he is kind to me and doesn't make me run in the rain.

But it's snowing! I can always count on it to either snow on my birthday or be Passover. That's OK though. Like anything else, both snow and Passover have both benefits and drawbacks.

Class!

into the swing of things

I just got back from a meeting about a future meeting. It lasted for way too long, but it was a fun meeting. And I used it as an excuse to take a break from my work. I wasn't being very productive anyway, falling asleep and all. So now it's late, and unable to decide between going to bed or doing the work that hasn't been done, I am writing.

I miss being able to work with a group of people if I feel like it. In Arizona, if people wanted to work with a group, they went to the meeting room, and if not, they went to their own room. Not that I ended up doing much work while in a group, but I might have if I hadn't been writing about the trip.

I guess freshman year people can work in their entry common rooms. But my entry common room was smelly. And I think some upperclassmen have a posse to work with, but I don't have a posse. I'm not certain that I would want one, but it would be nice to have one at least for when I have work to do.

My parents taped an envelope to my dresser for me to open on my birthday. For some reason, next to it they taped a miniature cardboard cutout of Barack Obama. Perhaps to instill in me hope.

It's nice to be back in my room. When I walked in, the effects of my weeks of sleep deprivation were just as I had left them, preserved like a museum. Same papers that I had been avoiding pushed to the side of my desk, same pile of books tipped over on my floor, same fallen poster. This was a bit disheartening, but I had a chance to fix everything. It only took about 10 minutes and now the atmosphere is much healthier, full of positive energy.

In fact, things are almost complete and right. However, I don't know if they can be until I find the piano part for the Schubert Sonatinas that I borrowed from the library. I have no idea where it is, I never lent it to anyone, I never played it. It's gone. I've renewed it seven times, hoping that one day I will find it. But it might be worth paying however much just to eradicate the whole situation from my life.

Even though it's not sunny and warm, the grass is now green in Williamstown. They must have used a lot of green food coloring. My window now has a screen instead of a glass pane so I can listen to the hooting and hollering of the quad and the pattering of the rain. The wild animals are not quite as entertaining as last year when I lived in frosh quad, but maybe that's OK.

Home

I am home! And I have slept 20 minutes in the past 36 hours. By staying up until now, I have put myself on the correct sleep schedule. So now I will go to bed.

The trip home was fun and successful, though I was too distracted to sleep. Jia Jia showed me her Spanish textbook and I could read some of it! Unlike my other flights, I had a seat near Lyndsay and Jia Jia, my travel companions, so we were able to interact.

I'm very tired.

My mom is attempting to fix my disintegrating diabetes bag. I'm not sure why she is doing this. I have already fixed it by lining it with a plastic grocery bag. Now it is full of crinkly packing tape. Mmm.

St. Michaels, AZ, Day 6: road tripping

We just arrived at the Albuquerque airport after a three hour drive from St. Michaels. It is 2:30 am Mountain Time, 4:30 am Eastern Time. Beth and her sister Taz drove us in two cars, dropped us off near a ticket counter, and are sleeping in a hotel tonight so they have enough sleep. Gonpo is curled up in a corner trying to sleep, but I'm not sure if anyone else is even going to bother.

We are very lucky that we made it to Albuquerque and that our flights don't seem to be delayed because just when we were pulling out of St. Michaels, a whiteout snowstorm touched down. Visibility was only a couple of feet and we could barely keep the back windshield clear for long enough to pull out of the parking lot safely. Fortunately, we either moved away from the storm or it generally subsided, so conditions were safer for most of the ride.

For our final dinner, we ate at a restaurant near the parish so that no one would have to cook or clean dishes. Right before our food came, Prim presented Beth with our thank-you gift: a Williams t-shirt with messages from all of us written on it. Beth spoke to us about how much the trip has meant to her, and I hope we were able to convey how grateful we are to her for giving us such an opportunity.

As predicted, most of today was spent traveling. Ellen, Jess, and I practice yoga with the guidance counselor and some kids for one last time. Three 4th grade girls showed up including the one who made us all cards and hugs us all whenever she sees us. She and I wound up staring at each others' faces whenever Ellen had us do the downward facing dog which resulted in some giggling. After we finished our session, our friend the guidance counselor gave us some snacks for our day and we gave her the card that we made for her. Since she liked all of our different languages so much, we were sure to write in each one on the front of the card.

If you haven't noticed by now, I haven't referred to any of the students or teachers by name (I don't think.) This is not because I don't remember their names, but because this is a public blog and I don't want to violate anyone's privacy. Just thought I'd mention that.

After yoga and some preliminary packing, Beth gave us a wonderful driving tour of the lands immediately to the west of St. Michaels. Lyndsay drove the second car in our caravan. Our main destination would be Canyon de Chelly, which, according to Beth, is "nothing, compared to the Grand Canyon." But we would find that it was definitely enough for us to get our canyon on. In any case, the drive to the canyon was as spectacular as the canyon itself. We watched the landscape flash from desert to forest to scruffy lowlands. While I wound up with some nice pictures, they really don't do justice to the overwhelmingly vast space that surrounded us. There were some areas that were completely flat for as far as we could see.

After a long stretch of flat driving, we tilted down a big hill and descended into an enormous valley. When I turned around, I realized that we had been driving the entire time on one of the mesas that we have been seeing all over the place.

We couldn't seem much after we entered the valley. The day was very windy - Lyndsay's car was getting whipped all over the road - and the air was saturated with dry dust. There were some spots where the conditions were little better than the whiteout that we would drive through later that day. We could smell the dust and hear it pounding against the car. Instead of endless views and enormous sky, we were shrouded in the rich brown cloud and could see little else.

Beth brought us to the Hubbell Trading Post, a national historic site, where she released us to shop and poke around. This was a really neat place which was, in addition to a tourist trap, a sheep and cattle ranch that was used by the Navajo and European-American settlers dating back to the 1880s. They sold some really nice rugs that were very expensive. I got a chance to walk around outdoors and take some pictures of the surrounding lands, sheep, and a llama! Somewhere in Navajo Nation Part 5.

And before I forget, all of my photos are now online! Fresh photos start halfway through Part 4.

On our way to another visitors' center, we visited Beth's dad at his office at the Navajo Technical College. He explained that his job is to help set up jobs for other Navajos. He introduced us to all of his staff and shared with us some his life philosophy. A very funny and sweet man. He explained to us that after we graduate from college, we should invent a system by which everyone communicates telepathically so that paperwork would be rendered unnecessary.

The Canyon de Chelly visitors' center had some really nice posters and books, none of which I bought. It also had an exhibit on the history of the peoples that have lived in the area. I was really interested to see the note at the beginning of the exhibit explaining that the entire thing would be redone in a few years. The museum acknowledged that ideas about history have changed since the 1960s when the exhibit was first set up and they have since recieved funding to create a more culturally sensitive narrative. I won't quote because I don't want to misquote, but I could definitely see that the descriptions were written in a style that does not correspond to current standards of historiography. Additionally, the note explained that some objects were no longer in the exhibit because they had originally been excavated from Navajo graves, a practice which is no longer considered acceptable.

All eleven of us squeezed into the van to eat lunch. Though there were picnic tables in sight, it was so dusty and we didn't want to be eating dust sandwiches. This was a hectic and cramped experience.

We finally arrived at the canyon. Kyle gave half of us a heart attack by jumping up on the ledge and standing there while 40 mph gales of wind whipped around us. After he got down, we all ogled the canyon for a while, taking pictures of each other and staring down at the bottom. It was still really dusty, and by now we all had sand in our teeth and hair. The low visibility created a mystical aura which I think we all came to appreciate as we hiked down. The pillars and cliffs towered over us, glimmering in the hazy atmosphere.

Ellen, Jess, Lyndsay, Prim, and Gonpo have fallen asleep. I hope to sleep on the plane...we'll see.

The end of our spring break is approaching and soon we will all return to Williamstown to complete the semester. I hope to return to St. Michaels some day and say visit the friends that I met this week. To Beth, Prim, Taida, Gonpo, Jia Jia, Ellen, Tomomi, Kyle, Jess, Lyndsay, and anyone at St. Michaels who might have gotten ahold of this link, thank you everything you have done to make this week so incredible.

St. Michaels, AZ, Day 5: goodbyes

Today was one of those days that seems like an entire week. After school we put together a party...I guess it wasn't a going-away party because we threw it but we're the ones going away...it was mostly so the kids would have some fun big finale to our trip. We had a language table where we wrote their names in different languages, a karaoke station, delicious snacks prepared by Prim, Tomomi and Beth, a slide show, games, and LOTS of balloons. We all got so many hugs and wrote our contact info on so many sheets of paper. I finally felt comfortable taking some pictures of the kids, so those are online now - the second half of album 3 and first part of album 4.

The party was a little bit emotionally overwhelming, not only because of the friends I made, but also seeing the other Williams students playing with and saying goodbye to the kids they had bonded with. We were all generally exhausted from the week of being with little kids and they were so happy to be spending time with us even if we might not even see them again after we go home. I hope they decide to write to us. They made us this really nice banner using lots of glitter.
This morning, Ellen, Kyle, Lyndsay and I led in the Socratic seminar on "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings" with the high school seniors. Most of the seniors were reluctant to contribute to the discussion at first, but by the tail end, we had a lively discussion going. It would have been nice to have another hour because they really did have a lot to say. In fact, it would have been nice to have an entire week or year so that we could really know the students.

The one unfortunate thing was that we didn't realize that a good half of the students weren't Catholic or otherwise Christian. If we had known that ahead of time, we wouldn't have pushed some of the Christ imagery in the story so aggressively. Though the reference was fairly explicit, so it would have been silly, I think, to avoid it altogether.

I had a chance to talk with their English teacher right after lunch. She's Jewish! Apparently, there is a congregation in Gallup. We had a really nice conversation about working at the school as a Jew. As we were talking, the computer teacher bumped into us. He's Jewish too! I was very surprised to learn this. During our conversation, the rest of the group wandered off, so I went back to the guidance counselor's office, the place where we camp out when we're not working. She and I had a nice conversation about how about half of the teachers and half of the students are not Catholic. She acknowledged that you can't force someone to believe in something and that's OK.

Gonpo and I went crazy today with lessons. Usually we give one grade a lesson for an hour and a few minutes, but today we gave 30-45 minute lessons to 2nd, 3rd, and 5th grades. We were very tired! Three renditions of Yellow Submarine, Blackbird, musical chairs to Bach, rhythms. Actually, we modified things for the 5th grade because some of them are really cool and wouldn't want to play musical chairs, we think. So for the 5th grade, we basically just gave a concert. A bunch of Beatles songs and then I played some Bach at the end. At first I was hesitant to play Bach because I thought they might be let down after all of the rock, but Gonpo made me and they seemed to like it a lot. They thought Rocky Raccoon was really cool and they waved their crayons (pretend lighters) when we played Blackbird. I think it helped that the 5th grade boys all love Gonpo.

The 2nd and 3rd grades seemed to be the best fit for all of our activities. For all of the other grades, there were one or two things that didn't work as well, but the 2nd and 3rd grades seemed to like everything. Ellen helped us out with those guys and Jess helped with 5th grade. I accidentally put my computer on someone's artwork so now there is some glitter on the bottom. They say I can get it off, but I might leave it as a souvenir. The artist didn't seem too concerned, mostly just amused that my computer became glittery.

Tomorrow, Jess, Ellen and I will practice yoga with the guidance counselor and a few students and then we will leave on our hiking trip. Then we will go home! I have a lot of work to do before the semester restarts...not so much that I feel the need to think about it in concrete terms until I am back east.

St. Michaels, AZ, Day 4: Eggless, but with spirits high

I had a rough start to this morning because we didn't use the stove and so there were no eggs. I had some cereal with milk and a piece of cheese. But the burner is working again. In fact, Jia Jia just made some onion eggs. Now that I have eaten some, I am feeling well enough to write.

Gonpo, Lyndsay, Jia Jia and I are hanging around the meeting room. Beth and her mom are going to cook us dinner! I'm not sure what we will be having. I think I heard something about "Navajo tacos."

Ellen's yoga sessions have been going really well. Yesterday morning, I played the violin (quietly) while she led, and this morning I participated with the actual yoga. The kids were shy but seemed to get the point of what we were doing. We worked for about a half hour and then they ran off to their classes. I'm really glad that we've been practicing because I've definitely had some yoga-withdrawl since my course ended.

Williams isn't offering yoga for PE next quarter! I think I might petition to practice yoga on my own for my final gym credit. I think you're allowed to do some kind of independent course once you've done your first three. And maybe some of the other people who were in my class will want to continue (Ellen.)

A little later in the morning, Lyndsay, Ellen, Kyle, and I helped Brother Jim to move chairs and desks in the basement. Apparently, the sewage system is being renovated and he's worried that the desks will get "wet" if there are any "accidents." So we managed to get all of the desks up on various shelves and tables, away from the exposed pipes.

Brother Jim was very happy to have us as helpers. After we worked for a while, he invited us to a coffee break. He spoke about how he ended up on the reservation. Brother Jim used to live in New Orleans, and he's been here for about five years, ever since Katrina hit. I asked him if there was any kind of "downtown," thinking of something like Spring Street in Williamstown. I think he assumed I meant something like downtown Albany or something. He said, "Ha!" But then he explained that out west, even though there might be as many restaurants or shops as in a tiny town like Williamstown, they are so spread out that there's no real downtown.

Today was a half day, so Gonpo and I didn't give a music lesson. After lunch, we went back to hang out with the kids after school. I spent most of my time with the first grade girls. I ended up teaching one little girl how to read notes in the treble clef, and she definitely sort of got the hang of it. One of the other girls was very excited because she found my arm hair, located on my wrist just above my right hand. She said, "What's that??" I said, "How did that get there?" We spent a while trying to figure out where all of my arm hair's friends went.

Beth and her sister drove us to a Navajo craft store where we wandered around for a while. The jewelery was pretty expensive because it was legit turquoise. I ended up buying a mug with the official seal of Navajo Nation. There were lots of other things I wanted that would have looked nice on my desk or dresser, but I only ever buy things that look nice on my desk or dresser and I wanted something practical. Anyway, I think I'll leave it at home (Niskayuna) and then drink from it when I'm there. I tried to buy a tone that will match our kitchen cupboard.

After that, we went to the Navajo Museum. I was really glad that they had an exhibit on the creation story which was still a little fuzzy after our speaker's explanation. It's still a little fuzzy, but less fuzzy. There was also a section on the "Long Walk"

- dinner break -

Navajo tacos! Very delicious. Basically taco fillings with "frybread" as the shell. Mmm.

Anyway, the "Long Walk" when the Navajo were forced to move to eastern New Mexico from their ancestral lands around the four corners area (where Utah, NM, Arizona and Colorado meet) to eastern New Mexico where the earth is even more dry and uninhabitable than the rest of New Mexico. Fortunately, the Navajo reservation today is back around the four corners area, though their land has been significantly condensed from its original boundaries.

After we looked at the exhibit, we met Miss Navajo Nation! Her headquarters are in the museum, and Beth just asked her if she would say hi to us. To be Miss Navajo Nation, she has to speak fluent Navajo and slaughter a sheep...I don't remember the other things, but it sounded very arduous. She also wears traditional Navajo clothing seven days a week and is very busy with speaking engagements. She sent us home with signed pictures. Kyle is in love with her. Gonpo accidentally dropped his signed picture and since eastern New Mexico is a giant wind tunnel, it blew away really quickly. For some reason, no one ran after it, so I had to run after it while everyone laughed. Fortunately I was able to retrieve the photo, or the entire spectacle would have been for naught.

I put up some more pictures, but I'll post the link to Ellen's pictures when they come up because she has some good ones of our work in the basement (with face masks!) and also the after-school madness.

St. Michaels, AZ, Day 3: High school

Lyndsay, Ellen, Kyle and I spent this morning at the high school. We were sent over to help out with chores, but no one seemed to have any chores for us. We were summarily scooped up by an English teacher who was about to have a class of seniors. We read with them "A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings," a short story by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. We also got a chance to talk with the students about our majors, what things are like at a liberal arts college, and what we might do with our lives.

We stayed with the same English teacher for her sophomore class. They were working on emails to Amherst students who are reading the same book, Black Boy by Richard Wright. The four of us were assigned to stroll around the computer lab, checking for proper spelling, punctuation, encouraging people to cite passages, etc. I think the students were happy to be working with us and seemed fairly interested in interacting with the Amherst folk. I think most of the things I helped them fix were just careless mistakes that they would have noticed on their own during a proofread, but maybe I saved them some trouble. The teacher felt really strongly that they needed to use formal English during a formal discussion of a text even when they're on the internet. In both the sophomore and senior classes, she was really pushing her students.

Kyle is wandering around eating fruit loops, milk and all. Midnight snack. Jia Jia thinks the gas stove is leaking, so we have resolved not to use it for eggs (or anything else) tomorrow morning. So I will be eggless. But I don't want the parish to go up in flames, either.

Working in the high school was a really welcome break from elementary school chaos. At first, I think we were all a little unsure of how we would be received at the high school since they are only a few years younger than we are. But they were really very polite and gracious. I can't imagine being a third grade teacher, dealing with little kids every day, nine months of the year. But maybe once you get to know them as individuals, it's not so overwhelming.

Maybe. When I was in third grade, I collected pencil points...over 1,000 pencil points in my desk. I would get up to sharpen my pencil so that I could break the point and add it to my collection. Several times throughout the year, my desk tipped over (don't ask me why) and my pencil point collection spilled across the entire floor. So as to not lose to a vacuum cleaner the fruits of my labor, I would crawl around trying to salvage as many pencil points as possible. I would estimate that most of my 8-year-old intellectual capacity was devoted to this endeavor. Needless to say, my relationship with my third grade teacher was several steps removed from peaceful co-existence and mutual understanding.

Gonpo and I presented our lesson to the first grade, but unfortunately, they had to leave for P. E. after around 20 minutes. They probably didn't care because they didn't know about all the cool games we had in store, but we were a little disappointed. Oh well. So we went down the hall to the kindergarten class where Kyle and Lyndsay were talking about states of matter and making ooblek (corn starch and water) for them to fool around with. That was a really fun class. Everyone was really excited about the ooblek and did a good job listening to the lesson. Afterwards, I helped to put the ooblek into individual plastic bags and add food coloring for them to mix around. One little girl was disturbed by how messy the whole procedure ended up being. I tried to explain that it would all come off with a little water (it did) but I don't know if she really believed me.

Everyone went outside after school. That is, everyone who had finished their homework. So about 45 minutes after classes ended, just about everyone went outside to the playground. We ran around for a while, played tag, spun on the spinny things. There were a few kids who really liked spinning Kyle. Ellen, Prim, and Jess talked for a long time with a little boy who wants to be a microbiologist. There was one little girl who really wanted to play my violin. At first I assumed she was taking lessons, but she couldn't remember how to hold it or do anything with it, really. So I let her pluck the strings. She was not satisfied by this compromise and really wanted to hold the bow. I decided that it would be a lesson in not getting what you wanted. I felt bad, but it seemed like, all things considered, the right thing to do. Oh well.

Kyle, Jia Jia and I went on a really nice walk before dinner. We followed a dirt road up a hill, saw some horses, cows, and cacti. Sadly, we didn't meet any prairie dogs (acquaintances of Kyle from one of his other walks.) From some of the higher points, we could see a good distance of the land surrounding the school and parish. Some more pictures from the walk are in Navajo Nation Parts 2 and 3.

Before/during dinner, we listened to a speaker talk about the Navajo creation story, the Navajo language, and contemporary issues in the community. The creation story is very complicated! But I suppose I just always hear the Judeo-Christian version and I'm used to it. Our speaker discussed the role of Navajo Code Talkers in World War II. She also tried to have us reproduce some of the syllables and tones of the Navajo language. She talked a little bit about how when she was a girl she was taken from her community and sent to a boarding school where students were forced to speak English. Now, very few children learn to speak Navajo (none that we have met so far) and there is a strong possibility that the language will die in the next few decades.

Tomorrow is a half day and everyone is very excited about going to the flea market! Though the flea market might be closed because of bad weather, in which case we will go to the craft store.