Getting comfortable

I'm getting used to being here again, finally after a month of super-painful culture shock. I even ate a hamburger!But I feel like every day when I only speak one language, I loose something more and more. LIKe bits of myself are just fading away. Language is one of those things that really messes with you, and unfortunately, i don't think enough americans get to experience it. What I mean is, the world in which we live, everything that surrounds us and that we are a part of is defined by our language. When that language is suddenly taken away, it causes us to see things differently. Physically see them differently. And then when we switch back to our mother language, things that used to be comfortable become estranged. Sandra Cisneros describes it in her book "Caramelo" pretty well when she describes a Mexican-American girl crossing the boarder to visit her family in Mexico. The physical sounds of the world change: a bird no longer says "tweet-tweet", the color yellow isn't just yellow, it's amarillo. The smell of dirt in the air is different, the colors of the landscape are different when you percieve things in a different language. I wish there was a way I could study this at Hamilton as a part of my thesis, but I don't think we have enough bi-lingual students. Anyway, every day that goes by, I can feel my english perception of the world coming back more fully and strongly than before. And the sweet orange of my granada perception slowly disappearing. It feels like that dream that you had that was so wonderful and life altering, and you keep telling it to yourself over and over so as to never forget it. But applying words to the dream alters it, and causes it to fade away even more quickly because you have immortalized it in story, instead of accepting it as the fleeting empty part of life it really is.

I met a boy last night who had some really interesting political views. I think a lot of people get scared by my liberal outlook, but they don't understand that the fact that i'm liberal is the very reason I will accept their views as their own interpretations of the world. I'm not going to try and change anyone. How would it be consistent for me to say that to change a country's politics is up to it's own citizens, but to change a person's politics is up to another? People have their reasons for believing what they do about the world. I know I have been blessed and privileged in my life so that my eyes were forced open at a young age. But it didn't have to be like this. So many of my friends are conservative or even apathetic, and as much as i want to show them what i've seen, I know I can't. In time if their views will change, as will mine. The opinions that we have, if educated and strong, will become more ingrained in our world view and those that are weak will be modified. This modification process is something that we must do for ourselves: no one can change our minds for us.

And so when we started talking about politics, and he pulled the whole "we should just blow up those fuckers in the middle east", I just got up and left. Some of my friends stayed and argued with him, but I didn't. I know he has his reasons for thinking that blowing up an entire region of the world might solve something. But I have my reasons to be fully against killing so many innocent people. I think I just love people too much. He noticed that I left, and when I saw him later he asked me about it. I told him that I can comprehend his views and that I respect him enough not to fight them, but that my views were quite different than his, and that I don't really expect him to understand, much less respect them. This of course fascinated him, and provoked him even further. But the way I see it, there's no point in arguing. Look at us. We are two americans, privileged enough to be able to be seen in public together, privileged enough to sit in public and talk about politics without fear of getting shot or bombed. We've lived our entire lives in the protective bubble of the superpower, covered by the seemingly impermiable walls of "freedom, justice, liberty and democracy". Most things of misfortune that have happened to us were caused by ourselves or own neighbors, and not the laws of a foreign government. How can we, sipping on beers poolside on a summer night possibly feel like we have any significance arguing over the fate of thousands of people abroad. What I mean to say is, that whether or not he and I agree, or will ever agree, it doesn't change the fact that our friends are dying overseas. Arguing will never solve anything.

I cannot describe to you how much my time of studying psychology has helped me understand this. I understand why people have their reasons for believing things, and why they're so impossible to change. Furthermore, I also understand why some solution like "bomb the fuckers" will cause more problems than solve them. Solutions are not simple and cannot be conjured up by one party and imposed upon the other. Example: Solution to Israeli Lebanese conflict: bomb the shit out of lebanon until the government bends to submission and denounces the fundamentalist party within its boarders. That could never work. And as we are seeing now on the news, it's most definitely not working out. What's worse, is that since the US has a history of constantly siding with israel, our ally's actions are having a massive impact on how the rest of the region sees us. As if they didn't already hate us enough, this is just the icing. All that being said, I do understand that Israel has been threatening to strike back at Lebanon for a long time. And I offer no solutions. After all, how can I? I'm not there, and I don't know anything more than what I can read and hear. It's all so fucked up because we talk about israel and lebanon as if they were just people or feuding families. Sometimes I think we as third parties forget that we're talking about people. Like when they say that Israel and Lebanon are bombing eachother, I'm not picturing regions or even governments, i'm picturing my friends Ben, Naomi, Rachel. When they talk about Syria I picture Mostafa. I have hanging on my mirror a picture of children from an Afghani orphanage. It's there to remind me that every day their lives are in danger. That they will probably grow up hating my country, hating me for what we did to them and their parents. They're up there, looking at me every morning to remind me that no action goes without consequence, and that between the occupations, the bombs and the gunfire, there are children trying to grow old.

Lebanon and Israel. Again.

I was freaking out at dinner two nights ago. I hate the biased way American media covers all the conflicts in the Middle East. I'm super-sensitive to that because I have friends in both countries. Hence my freak out session. I'm a little bit better now. I'm so angry, and I don't know who to be angry with. Not that my anger or ability to point fingers and blame one country for starting all the problems would resolve anything. Peace within countries with a history of war needs to come from within those countries. Some American interference on either side will only heighten the conflict. Plus, I don't think I could handle my country being on one side, especially because being on one side would mean ruining the lives of someone I know and cherish.

I just started reading "The Fifth Mountain" by Paulo Coehlo. It's about the history of violence between Lebanon and Israel. Honestly, i had no idea that was what it was written about until I started reading it. And all i could think was "well this is fitting."

I hate feeling completely helpless, but that's exactly what I am right now. I watch censored media footage of Israel bombing beautiful Beirut, sending the city back 20 years again. And of the rubble in Israel, with mourning mothers and interviews with government officials, while sirens of incoming fire scream in the background.

Talked to Rachel, last I heard everyone in her family is OK. She kept saying that she couldn't believe it- she was just there a month ago. All the streets she drove down, all the mountains she saw, the entire landscape is gone. I also talked to a rising first year who told me about her sister, her family business and her grandfather who are all in Lebanon right now. I think of all my friends from Israel, who I havent spoken with in so long. And I wonder where they are, and if they are safe.

Got an email from Stephane in Morocco. Luckily he didn't take the flight to Beirut. Israel blew up the airport 10 days before he would've left. It's crazy how quickly your life can change. Or end.

Sales for Dummies

This is my work day. I now have serious doubts of the intelligence of many people.

Friday 11:22am
Jess: How may i help you?
guy on phone: Yes, How much does it cost?
Jess: Well, right now, we're having an Early bird special for the first 250 p-
Guy on phone: Well I don't care about that. My wife and I are already signed up.
Jess: But then-?
Guy on phone: How much does it cost after the special?
Jess: Well there are four pricing phases, so-
Guy on phone: (grumbling angrily) this is too complicated. We're going elsewhere


Friday 12:54pm
Jess: How may I help you?
Guy on phone: Yes, I got your mailing today
(pause)
Jess: ok...
Guy on phone: The card, in the mail
(pause)
Jess: ok, well are you interested in-
Guy on phone: Yeah you've got all the information on here. But where does it mention the pool?
Jess: the pool?
Guy on phone: Yes, it's a fitness center. It has to have a pool. But the card doesn't mention anything about it.
Jess: The card doesn't mention it, because we don't have one.
Guy on phone: (like i just killed his dog) No pool?!
Jess: We don't have enough space in the lot to build a pool. But we've got some other wonderful facilities-
Guy on phone: How could it not have a pool? A pool adds so many great exercise opportunities.
Jess: We simply do not have enough space for a pool.
Guy on phone: What kind of fitness center is this? I've never heard of a fitness club without a pool!
Jess: Um..sir, I think World Gym, right down the road from us, does not offer a pool facility either.
Guy on phone: I've never heard of it!
Jess: Well, it's there.
GUy on phone: well it must be a similar, shitty small gas station project then.
Jess: um.. excuse me?
Guy on phone: I know it's not your fault, you just work there. Pass it on to the owners. I'm gonna have to cross you off my list.
Jess: alright then.


Friday 1:08pm
Jess: How may I help you?
Lady on Phone: Um so I got the card in the mail, with the prices.
Jess: ok?
(long pause)
Jess: What can I help you with?
Lady on phone: So that price, that's per month?
Jess: Yes, you pay the monthly membership fee every month...
Lady on phone: But your gym is being built as we speak, correct?
Jess: That's correct. How this works is when you come in to sign up, you pay the initiation fee and the first month's rate right when you sign the membership contract so-
Lady on phone: Wait, you have to sign a contract?
Jess: Well, yeah..

From a friend's facebook profile

"In a sense, it is the coming back, the return, which gives meaning to the going forth. We really don’t know where we’ve been until we come back to where we were – only where we were may not be as it was because of who we’ve become, which, after all, is why we left."

That pretty much says it all.

Black Coffee Confession

Over breakfast this morning I finally confessed to my mother that I have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life. That wasn't the real confession: it was really that I'm ok with not knowing. It's scary at times, so many of my friends have already graduated from college, and have started into the "real world" and so I feel the pressure, but for some reason, I'm not worried.

I was sitting on the bus on my way up to Boston to visit my brother, when I saw a young professional looking guy typing on his laptop and just looking generally miserable. So of course I sit across from him and start to talk to him. Turns out, he's just a year older than me, and has started his "real job" three days before. He looks at me, takes off his tie and says "I'm just waiting till they realize that I'm an imposter. I have no idea what I'm doing. I give it two weeks." He graduated from Dartmouth with a degree in economics and history (or something) and decided the corporate life was for him. He laughed and sighed at the same time and told me about his cubicle. He was 22 years old and already couldn't wait to retire. I told him about my 7 months in spain, my college lifestyle and my plans to return to europe as soon as humanly possible and he just said sadly "I wish I could do that. But it's too late now." Since when is 22 too old to pick up and leave? I told him he should just not get off at his stop in connecticut. He should just stay on the train and see where the end of the line was. After all, his company was paying for his ticket. The suggestion excited him, I could tell a part of him was considering it. But when his stop came, he simply picked up his stuff, shook my hand and left. And that was it.

Just the idea of having a life track, a fast track or anything offically planned out kind of makes me frightened. I'm terrified of the thought of taking my Psychology GREs because that means that I am committing myself to studying psychology for grad school. How could I do that, when I don't even know if I want to pursue psychology? Law, international relations, public policy, teaching... I need to think about my options, consider each one to determine which will give me the type of lifestyle I want and need to have.

It's incredible how many people are not happy with their lives. They live in "the real world" have a "safe, secure, lifestyle" and always say "I wish.. but I can't." Most people are content, but not happy. I just don't understand why people are content with mediocrity in their lives. You're only you once. Might as well make the best of it.

Our lives are the stories we tell ourselves. If you're going to have a story, you might as well make it an adventure story.

Ecstatic

I think I've lost it. Or maybe, I've finally found it.

Went to long island and visited my little cousins. They range in ages 8 to 18. Finally hit adolescence, and it made me realize that, perhaps, I've grown up quite a bit since those times. Strikingly beautiful and so much more cultured than I was at that age, they are preoccupied with fashion, hollywood gossip, boys and cell phones. I was absolutely struck by how every little snag in their life turned their worlds upside-down: the boyfriend who kept calling turned into the obnoxious stalker, the girl with the mutual crush was the enemy with bad hair, the teacher who wanted to help was an overbearing monster. They bury their heads in magazines and wash their brains with MTV. I was forced to reminisce about how I was when I was their age. Thrown into boarding school, not having time for cell phones, boys, or MTV, I buried myself in my writing and my books. And yet, looking back, I completely understand because I too had an obnoxious stalker (who turned out to be my first boyfriend), fought with the enemy with bad hair (who turned out to be my best friend) and dealt with my own group of overbearing monsters (who ended up changing my life.) And though I could sympathize, I knew they wouldn't have any of it. Because when I was their age, the last thing I wanted to hear was the most important thing I could've been told: It's going to turn out alright in the end. Being with them for a week, I don't think I've ever felt so uncool in my life. What's more is, I don't think I've ever been so OK with feeling so uncool.

My brother made a speech at our 8th grade graduation. I remember it because it was particularly emotional for us: we were leaving our comfortable school to go off to the unknown planet of ancient buildings and hallowed passageways, drenched in thick mists that covered the fields before class and vibrated with the deep tones of the bell tower: Midatlantic boarding school. He said that we should "leave here knowing that the person we have become is the person we've always wanted to be." Little did we know of the hard times we had ahead, of tumoltuous friendships, dauntingly difficult classes, teachers that would push us till we cracked; little did we know what adventures and fantastic plots lay ahead of us in the obscure path through adolescence that had been chosen for us. I enveloped myself in the haze of contradictory indifference and passion, tried on so many masks and personas, explored every depth of the puzzle which lay within my own body and came out even more confused than ever.

Adolescence is really that time where we drive ourselves crazy trying to figure where we fit. We're always trying to find a category, to give ourselves a label, to "know thyself". But trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth (I don't remember who said that, but I didn't come up with that one...) and it just leaves you bitter and unsatisfied. Don't get me wrong, I had a decent adolescence. For the most part I enjoyed myself, but I always felt as though i was enveloped in a haze, like there was so much I needed to figure out, but just couldn't, which just really frustrated me more than anything. I remember being upset that I just couldn't figure myself out, feeling completely overwhelmed because for some reason i thought "finding" myself would somehow signify the end of the metamorphasis into adulthood, the end of a brutally awkward and unknown phase that plagued me. I was constantly struggling with the differing images I had of myself, of the differing images people had of me: the quiet girl, the rebellious artist, the reclusive poet, the outspoken activist, the proper good girl, the crazy bad girl, the girlfriend, the free spirit, etc. These labels I juggled drove me crazy because I couldn't fit in just one of them, and yet they were all so contradictory in nature. Adolescence is filled with turmoil, filled with this constant struggle of figuring out ourselves, trying to label our personalities. It's one of those things that you struggle so hard to figure out, and the more you struggle, the more confused you get, when really the answer is infront of you the entire time. Or rather, within you.

Then, yesterday, met up with some old friends from high school. I got to thinking about how silly high school was, how much grief and angst was druged up during that time, how I never quite felt like I fit in, and how I was so driven to figure out who I was and why exactly I didn't fit in. I looked at my old friends last night, and thought to myself "everythng turned out alright after all." The haze of adolescence had finally lifted; I realized that for the past 8 months i was enveloped in a new haze. A haze of crazy and overwhelming feelings of satisfaction and happiness.

Satisfaction? Happiness? At first I thought it was because I had finally freed myself from what seemed like the eternal "girlfriend" role. But that wasn't quite it. Then I thought it was because I had the time of my life and finally found "my people." But then I left spain. Then I thought it was because I was living on my own. But I moved back in with my parents, and yet the feeling remains. Finally I've come to the realization that perhaps this happiness is caused by something much greater; a final end to my constant and blinding struggle with myself.

The happiness I feel is completely different than any feeling I've ever had. Overwhelmingly ecstatic, full of life, full of the appreciation of what we are all so capable of if we just free ourselves, tempered by an overpowering feeling of helplessness, loss and sadness, mediated by a debilitating compassion for others. I've finally come to appreciate and love the haze which surrounds my very self, I've come to accept, if not understand, my own uncertainty. I now see the unending beauty in the unnamable unknown.

My parents kept saying it. My brother did too. Even my aunts and uncles said it when they saw me interact with my cousins. I don't know why I didn't see it until now, until my drive home from work this evening to be exact. I think it really finally hit me. I'm 21 now. I've grown up.

I've finally become the person I've always wanted to be. Or, perhaps, I've finally become ok with the person I always was.