Disclaimer: this post is kind all over the map...In other words, the writer may have become a nostalgic-PMSing 20-yr old wacko at an Arabic immersion program.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Wow. I’ll be in Cape Cod in less than a week, and I CAN’T wait!!! That being said, my time at this program has been unforgettable. I am so lucky to have spent the summer in such a beautiful and with some incredibly intelligent, thoughtful, and driven people.
We had our final oral presentations today. 10 minutes of glorious fusha on a topic of our choice. I spoke about the history of Syrian Christians and one of their most notable/notorious members, Michel ‘Aflaq, the ideological founder of the Ba’ath Party. What was and still is incredible to me is that 8 weeks ago I could not even fathom having the vocabulary or the grammar to talk about these topics. Thank you, Middlebury!
What was even more incredible, though, was our Wednesday evening lecture. Sinan Antoon, an Iraqi poet and filmmaker, spoke to us about the history and lead-up to the Iraq War. I understood probably 90% of the words he used, and I think I understood almost 100% of the sentences and ideas. This in of itself is great, but what made me what to jump out of my seat was that I am finally starting to understand enough Arabic to be able to engage on topics that I really care about – namely Middle Eastern politics, US-Arab relations, and the Iraq War. I’m realizing that my goal of speaking practical Arabic is within my reach, maybe even in the near-ish future (i.e. you know, like, the next decade or something). Again, thank you, Middlebury!
Now my two long-ago promised stories:
1. My future “husband” from Qatar.
Clare and I sat with Professor Miriam one night at dinner toward the beginning of the program. She is from Qatar and is here from the summer with her university-age son. After a lengthy discussion about how, like, every university ever has an abroad campus in Qatar (i.e. Texas A&M, Cornell, NYU), she leaned over to Clare and whispered in her ear something along the lines of “my son is attractive and single.” Oh, yes. Oh, yes she did. Now he is known to us as “zawoojnaa” (our husband).
2. Abdul Karem Ramadan.
This man is truly a character. The first time Clare and I ever sat with him he tried to convince us that he was wheeling and dealing black market “betrol” (oil) out of his dorm room in Hepburn. Since then he has claimed to have witnessed JFK’s assassination, luncheoned with First Lady Laura Bush, and most recently, the namesake for the “AR” pins we all wear.
At Middlebury, each language school as a special pin with two initials/letters that students and professors can wear to get into meals and remind us that we’ve taken the language pledge. For example, the Arabic School’s pin is orange with the initials AR, the Chinese School’s is yellow with CH, French’s is green with FR, German’s read with GR.
Therefore, according to Abdul Karem Ramadan, we are all actually wearing his initials. Oh, yah allahhee, that man is hilarious. I love sitting with him at meals because he is always smiling, joking, and trying to charge us for every new vocabulary word he teaches us.
Things I had long forgotten but hope to remember for the future:
1. In the summer, things are actually more beautiful than in the winter in some places in this world.
In other words, things are green here! Two weekends ago, Helen, Clare, and I went hiking at a nearby mountain. There was an incredibly beautiful view from the top of the mountain of the entire valley, and we could even see across Lake Champlain to the mountains of the New York side!
But the “wow moment” for me was actually on the drive there and back. These simple, delicate wild flowers of all different colors where blooming alongside the road for miles. I felt like I was driving through a sea of flowers, back in time, past pungent cow farms and swaying wheat fields. I don’t think a single picture could have done those moments justice.
2. Walking in the rain without shoes.
So, it def rains a lot here during the summer, although this summer has been more plentiful than most. For all the rainy winter days in the California, I don’t think I’ve walked without any shoes on in the rain since I was a little kid.
A few weeks ago, I was walking between my class in Bicentennial and my Middle Eastern dance class in Hepburn, and it was seriously pouring. Since making the trek in my leather sandals – once again – would probably result in their death, I decided to tuck them under my arm and do the 10-minute walk barefoot.
Best. Decision. Ever. The feeling of my feet on the ground was not short of divine. I have come to the conclusion that Middlebury has the smoothest pavement on earth and therefore is the perfect barefoot walkway surface. Also, you really can’t beat Vermont in terms of muddy grass. Perfect in-between-your-toes-squishable.
3. Fireflies.
I forgot these even existed until I was walking one night around 10 o’clock. I don’t think I’ve seen a single firefly in California. Maybe in Tahoe, but I really don’t think so. It’s such a delight when I’m walking to the library late at night or going to the Grille to grab a slice of pizza to see these little, slow flashes of light around me lighting my path.
4. Republicans do exist. And they may, in fact, defend their beliefs quite vigorously.
I feel like I’ve finally remerged after a long hibernation in the comfort of liberal Northern California politics, on a campus where I actually only know of 1 person that vocally expresses support for John McCain’s presidential bid. It’s rather odd to be among students, and generally people, that really really really disagree with my political views.
At first I was actually kind of flabbergasted. How can you like Bush? Like, really, how? My friend Clare is a moderate Republican and we kind of got into a heated debate after the Iraq lecture this week. I wouldn’t call our lecturer a Bush-basher, but he certainly wasn’t a fan. Clare started saying that she would give him the benefit of the doubt, but actually dared to question his patriotism and the patriotism of people with his (i.e. my) political views.
I think part, perhaps a large part, of the problem with this discussion was that it was in Arabic making everything much less nuanced than it would be in English, but still. Patriotism doesn’t mean giving my support to a president that has proven to repeatedly make decisions that have powerful negative repercussion for our country and other countries – namely Iraq and Afghanistan. Patriotism is belief in our Constitution, belief in our right to dissent and to hold our leaders accountable for every action they take. A Patriot disagrees with vigor and criticizes without fear.
Okay, political rant over.
5. The difference between the Coasts.
Yes, I am talking Northern California meets Rhode Island. At first they’re intrigued by each other. Northern California is laid back, smiles, laughs, cracks jokes, and uses “hella”. Rhode Island talks like he’s trying to outrun a forest fire, dresses like he competing for a coveted spot in a J.Crew spread, and acts like he is interviewing for the opportunity to engage in friendship. Opposites attract. At first.
Rhode Island has a plan. It’s clear-cut, direct, logical. Northern California is intrigued. Going with the flow is great, and it’s kind of fun to follow an unfamiliar path. BUT, what Northern California doesn’t know is that Rhode Island’s plan is deceptive. His actions indicate that he’s into NorCal, so NorCal thinks “Why not? I’m not familiar with Rhode Island’s game, but I’m going to give the benefit of the doubt.”
Ultimately, this proves to be a mistake. RI (pardon my Fa-rench) equals a douche-bag. Northern California says “Maa salaama, bitch. This is hella over.” Scene.
This anecdote may or may not mirror real life.
Yah, not gonna explain that one on my blog.
Until next time,
Kate
Friday, August 8, 2008
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