So yãll keep asking for pictures so I finally found a place that will let me upload! This is my writing on Paratay and then below there are two posts of Paratay, one of the island we visited and one of our day off.
Paratay was an amazing city definetly a top ten most meaningful experience. The beauty of this place is so peircing its hard to explain it in words and harder still to capture it in pictures.
Paratay is an old colonial port town three hours south of Rio. They were once known to be the sugar cane giants and big port to import into. Over time however Rio became the port city and Paratay became a forgotten city. A few decades ago it has revitalized as a historic site. We did not go to Paratay for the city but for an island nearby which we used a boat to reach. We are here laerning about cross cultural communication and we went to visit the people who live on the island, the carcinearoes who~ve lived there for hundreds of years. . They are a blend of Portugese, African and Native American and live on this island excluded pretty much from the rest of society surviving on the fishing trade. These are the most amazing people I have ever met in my life. This island is paradise. i say this because of the peace of mind you feel when you walk through the forests and the village. None of the homes have locks, even the homes of the handful of Americans with their fancy homes with dvd players and big screen tvs dont have locks and no one breaks in. We left our purses and bags on a bench in the village square and returned with nothing touched. Children playing soccer barefoot while the parents offered sugar cane and fresh bread. the sad thing and the reason we are studying them is that they live in this heavenly place which is now slowly being discovered by poeople for the paradise it is and the outsiders are buying their land. These native people have never seen so much money (which is far less than it is worth) and they sell their land that was theirs for generations. Then they have no place to go and they leave the island to a nearby slum in Paratay where they struggle to pay rent and feed their families. Problems and worries they never had on their island. We visited the island that was Paradise and we visited the slums that some now reside in. Its silly but the song }They paved paradise to put up a parking lot bby the counting crows kept running through my mind.
The next day we took a boat tour and just spent the day lounging and visiting a nearby festival. Our accomdations felt like we were at summer camp but it grew on me and I was sad to leave.
Okay now I will post the pictures with narration below!
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Paratay in Pictures
Thursday we left at 9am for Paratay. This is a picture of our accomdations. The inn was actually a converted barn and our rooms were once stables. Despite that it was a very charming place that grew on you. I seriously felt like I was reliving the summer camp that never was in my childhood. The red hammock was a hot commodity at the end of the long days. I wish I had taken a picture of the lush Atlantic rainforest vegetation to the right of the hammock.
The next morning my conflict resolution class went in small groups on boats to the island of the carnicearos (sp?)
This is a picture of the "mayor" (for lack of a better term) of the city. I loved the casualness and simplicity of the island. As you can see though we were considered very important guests on the island since guests are not invited often to see them, this is about as dressed up as he gets. What also amazed me about him is that though he has a great deal of power in the city he was so kind and humble. He is trashcollector for the island. He helps the older ladies with their things when they are going up the hills. He had so much grace and calmness to him and his humility despite his power was inspiring.
We hiked and observed and learned about the cultural issues facing the town and the legal battles they have to deal with to preserve their island and keep outsiders from completely taking over. We saw homes of Americans who live on the island and what is shocking is that they force the local dwellers, that if they (The non natives) ever visit one of the stunning beaches on the island then if there is a native on that beach they must leave. That was very sad. This is a view of the beach on the island. It looks rocky but right past the boulders is fine white grainy sand. I liked this view though.
We ate sugar cane the mayor cut for us and watched the children play soccer barefoot by the water as we waited for our boats. I cannot describe nor can I capture in pictures the peace that existed on this island but we all felt it.Below is Paratay on vacation time.
Paratay Vacation
Children of the Paratay Favelas 
Snapshots from my wanderings in Paratay
I had to take a picture of the rocks because they were lethal! Most of the time was spent looking where you were going because of the various textures shapes and sizes.
This snapshot still gives me chills. When I was looking for pictures of Brazil to upload on a blog during my debate on if I should go or not, I saw and uploaded a picture of a lovely beach. What were the odds I]d end up on an island in Paratay where that snap was taken? Coincidence?
Some views of the water and beach. The people you see are all fellow law students. This island (Not the island of carcineoros, a different island) was all ours.
And that´s all for now folks. I hope you enjoyed :)
I had to take a picture of the rocks because they were lethal! Most of the time was spent looking where you were going because of the various textures shapes and sizes.
This snapshot still gives me chills. When I was looking for pictures of Brazil to upload on a blog during my debate on if I should go or not, I saw and uploaded a picture of a lovely beach. What were the odds I]d end up on an island in Paratay where that snap was taken? Coincidence?
Some views of the water and beach. The people you see are all fellow law students. This island (Not the island of carcineoros, a different island) was all ours.And that´s all for now folks. I hope you enjoyed :)
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Quick Update From Brazil
Oi! I write to you from a gym. Yes a gym. Its a fancy gym inside my building and after much debate I decided to join because daylight hours are unfortunately scarce since its winter in Brazil (i.e. 80 degrees). And yes this gym has internet access, and techno music pulsing through the studio. There´s something about Brazilians and techno and computers. ;).
We arrived from Paratay today and it was one of those trips that can change you. Mystic Soul you would be interested to know that the trip has helped me learn that there probably is no such as a coincidence.
Someone commented that I should be comissioned by the tourism board and it made me reflect on my writings. Most of it describes the stunning beauty and color and life of the city but my course work deals with studying the issues in Brazil legal and otherwise. Through it we are learning a lot and I get to see and visit a lot more than what a tourist would ordinarly come to see on a week or so in Rio. I am hoping tomorrow I can sit down and write about Paratay first and then next time I write, write about some of the other things that exist here in Rio that we are learning and that is saddening such as the racism that no one acknowledges, extreme poverty and favelas (slums) teetering over hilltops where millions of Brazilians live, sanitation issues etc. I wanted to write about this after our visit to the favela on Tuesday (I think) but I did want to point out that its not all paradise here though for a visitor staying strictly above the surface, God´s natural beauty is present in all its stunning glory and one can´t help but be moved despite the destitution and desperation that surrounds it.
We arrived from Paratay today and it was one of those trips that can change you. Mystic Soul you would be interested to know that the trip has helped me learn that there probably is no such as a coincidence.
Someone commented that I should be comissioned by the tourism board and it made me reflect on my writings. Most of it describes the stunning beauty and color and life of the city but my course work deals with studying the issues in Brazil legal and otherwise. Through it we are learning a lot and I get to see and visit a lot more than what a tourist would ordinarly come to see on a week or so in Rio. I am hoping tomorrow I can sit down and write about Paratay first and then next time I write, write about some of the other things that exist here in Rio that we are learning and that is saddening such as the racism that no one acknowledges, extreme poverty and favelas (slums) teetering over hilltops where millions of Brazilians live, sanitation issues etc. I wanted to write about this after our visit to the favela on Tuesday (I think) but I did want to point out that its not all paradise here though for a visitor staying strictly above the surface, God´s natural beauty is present in all its stunning glory and one can´t help but be moved despite the destitution and desperation that surrounds it.
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Rainy Rainy Rio
From my journal today...
I write from the beach in South America. I roll this word over on my tongue. I never thought I would be here. It is windy so the waves are high and only two girls are playing in the waves as I sit upon the sand taking in the breathtaking view. Impanema beach is all mine. I find it quite intimate to be alone on a beach that rarely finds peace from the tramplings of feet and bodies. I am not foolish I chose to plunk down right next to a police officer watching the beach. When he leaves I leave. I love being at the beach by myself. It is an intensly personal experience for me. In Palm beach i wold drive to Juno beach in midday to eat lunch and watch the water with my private thoughts and the waves. I feel 18 again as I see the waves bulge in the distance, rising as they come closer and then pause briefly before crashing upon the shore.
Yesterday began beautifully, I woke up at 5:50am to run with a classmate by the ocean. The sun sets at 5pm so I get up earlier to make the most of the day light hours. Then we wandered over to the vegetable market with vendors selling every fruit imaginable cut and displayed with limitless samples. The fruit at the farmers market was unlike any other i've ever eaten. I never knew how sweet watermelon could taste. Or how sweetly pungent the smell of fresh cut flowers could be. I wish I could upload the pictures of the flowers because they were so beautiful they seemed unreal. Many of the flowers we get back at home are from South America so it should not surprise me that in their freshest cut they are so breathtaking. Ofcourse I bought some mangoes which reminded of the mangoes I grew up eating that grew upon my childhood mango tree in Miami. But then it rained. rained rained rained. not american rain. Brazilian rain. Oh yes the two are quite different. It rains. and rains. and rains. relentless unending rain trickling as though God created a leaky ocean in the sky. I am affected by the climate particularly because Rio is an outdoor city and the rain effectively cut off all that. It saddened me and Kashif heard the brunt of that. Sorry Kash :)
Living here and being a "native" is helping me recognize people as well. The most memorable character thus far is a beautiful golden brown golden retriever, a stray who wanders the streets of Impanema. What makes us laugh when we see him is his intense personality. He trots down the street looking about him at a brisk pace as though a corporate attorney on his way to an important meeting. Like in Turkey the strays pay people no mind. They are living their life and couldn't be bothered with us. It amazes me how they don't scare me in other countries but in my own country if a dog is on his lawn I am filled with fear that he will approach me. Just now this very stray trotted past me, paused, looking searchingly at me and went on his way. I wonder if he recongized me too.
Well I'm off now to have some dinner and pack for our trip to Parachi about three hours from Rio. We will be hiking the Atlantic rainforest and visiting the sugar cane colonial town. Im unsure if I will internet access (probably will) but if I dont, ciao until Sunday!
I write from the beach in South America. I roll this word over on my tongue. I never thought I would be here. It is windy so the waves are high and only two girls are playing in the waves as I sit upon the sand taking in the breathtaking view. Impanema beach is all mine. I find it quite intimate to be alone on a beach that rarely finds peace from the tramplings of feet and bodies. I am not foolish I chose to plunk down right next to a police officer watching the beach. When he leaves I leave. I love being at the beach by myself. It is an intensly personal experience for me. In Palm beach i wold drive to Juno beach in midday to eat lunch and watch the water with my private thoughts and the waves. I feel 18 again as I see the waves bulge in the distance, rising as they come closer and then pause briefly before crashing upon the shore.
Yesterday began beautifully, I woke up at 5:50am to run with a classmate by the ocean. The sun sets at 5pm so I get up earlier to make the most of the day light hours. Then we wandered over to the vegetable market with vendors selling every fruit imaginable cut and displayed with limitless samples. The fruit at the farmers market was unlike any other i've ever eaten. I never knew how sweet watermelon could taste. Or how sweetly pungent the smell of fresh cut flowers could be. I wish I could upload the pictures of the flowers because they were so beautiful they seemed unreal. Many of the flowers we get back at home are from South America so it should not surprise me that in their freshest cut they are so breathtaking. Ofcourse I bought some mangoes which reminded of the mangoes I grew up eating that grew upon my childhood mango tree in Miami. But then it rained. rained rained rained. not american rain. Brazilian rain. Oh yes the two are quite different. It rains. and rains. and rains. relentless unending rain trickling as though God created a leaky ocean in the sky. I am affected by the climate particularly because Rio is an outdoor city and the rain effectively cut off all that. It saddened me and Kashif heard the brunt of that. Sorry Kash :)
Living here and being a "native" is helping me recognize people as well. The most memorable character thus far is a beautiful golden brown golden retriever, a stray who wanders the streets of Impanema. What makes us laugh when we see him is his intense personality. He trots down the street looking about him at a brisk pace as though a corporate attorney on his way to an important meeting. Like in Turkey the strays pay people no mind. They are living their life and couldn't be bothered with us. It amazes me how they don't scare me in other countries but in my own country if a dog is on his lawn I am filled with fear that he will approach me. Just now this very stray trotted past me, paused, looking searchingly at me and went on his way. I wonder if he recongized me too.
Well I'm off now to have some dinner and pack for our trip to Parachi about three hours from Rio. We will be hiking the Atlantic rainforest and visiting the sugar cane colonial town. Im unsure if I will internet access (probably will) but if I dont, ciao until Sunday!
Monday, May 22, 2006
Brazil- Here I am
I sit here and write to you from Rio De Janeiro in an internet cafe which really is a gaming zone. I climbed up a winding flight of stairs to computers lined up, neon blue and green lights flashing and techno in the background as 12 year olds surround me intensely playing Counterstrike, Doom, name a computer game they are here playing it. It´s not a bad idea for the states to do this too, get kids who love to game out of the house and socialize and compete with one another.
How to describe Rio De Janeiro. Should I begin with its sandy white beaches and the clear blue ocean as it crashes against the shores? Should I begin with my room which is located in the richest neighborhood in all of South America? Should I begin with the racial and class tension that undercuts the atmosphere of the entire city? Or the favelas that one must see with ones eyes to fully appreciate the magnitude of? ´
Impanema beach is one block from the apartment and today was the first day that I walked past the boardwalk and down to the actual sandy beach of Impanema. I thought hard on how to describe what it feels like to walk through the fine grainy sand up to the edge of the ocean as Sugarloaf Mountain watches. I doubt I can do it justice. I saw the ocean from the boardwalk yesterday as well but it did not move me. However today when I walked up to the water and felt the breeze and saw the waves as they crashed upon the shore I cannot even begin to describe the feeling that came over me. The water is so beautiful and peaceful and relaxing yet I couldnt help think that this very ocean can turn around create Tsunamis destroying everyone including me as I stood inches from it upon the beach. It´s an awe inspiring experience to be before such a gentle quiet yet fiercly powerful force.
Brazil is the first country I have visited where no one in Rio De Janeiro, the most popular tourist destination in Brazil, heart of the economy, where NO ONE really speaks English. Since I am not a tourist really, I go to school here now, I buy groceries and cook dinner, I send out for laundry, I feel as though I slightly understand what it must be like to be an immigrant like my students who arrived with absolutely no language skills. Walking down a street and a lady walking her dog smiling at me and trying to chat and I have no idea what she is saying. At the vendors to buy a calling card I slowly find myself playing a game of charades to be understood. Americans are probably the only ones who assume those in other countries will know their language. What foreigner immigrates here speaking to others in their native tongue and upset that they don´t know it. And what makes this all the more bewildering is that they presume I am Brazilian. I walk down the streets and not a vendor approaches me, not a hat or eyeglass seller looks my way. I am one of them, and its presumed that these trinkets hold no interest.
I feel that this time is an eye opening experience for me. I am on my own in a foreign country. I live by myself with no roomate, I have no television, no radio. It´s me myself and I when I am in the room which admittedly I am not in very much because there is so much to do and see and study and I~ve met wonderful people on the program to have lunch dinner and see the sights. (Even found a running partner. Can you imagine waking up at sunrise to run by Impanema beach??? Me neither, hvent done it yet :) but I´m starting tomorrow.) Most people here are much more into the night life experience and it is an overwhelmingly huge atmosphere of partying and drinking and dancing. Naturally a lot of people probably came just for that. Ofcourse I dont do that but I´m grateful to have found people like myself here because it would be a very isolating experience if it was only me whod rather sit at a cafe and people watch while reading my assignments for class. But still...when I come back at night there are no distractions. No television to drown out thoughts, no other person to distract, you face you. In some ways I feel I´ve found a new friend, its hard to explain.
I have so much more to say, like about the mangoes I discovered today that are truly splendid down to the last bite. But I will write more later and hopefully not as scattered as these thoughts are. Forgive the disorganization.
How to describe Rio De Janeiro. Should I begin with its sandy white beaches and the clear blue ocean as it crashes against the shores? Should I begin with my room which is located in the richest neighborhood in all of South America? Should I begin with the racial and class tension that undercuts the atmosphere of the entire city? Or the favelas that one must see with ones eyes to fully appreciate the magnitude of? ´
Impanema beach is one block from the apartment and today was the first day that I walked past the boardwalk and down to the actual sandy beach of Impanema. I thought hard on how to describe what it feels like to walk through the fine grainy sand up to the edge of the ocean as Sugarloaf Mountain watches. I doubt I can do it justice. I saw the ocean from the boardwalk yesterday as well but it did not move me. However today when I walked up to the water and felt the breeze and saw the waves as they crashed upon the shore I cannot even begin to describe the feeling that came over me. The water is so beautiful and peaceful and relaxing yet I couldnt help think that this very ocean can turn around create Tsunamis destroying everyone including me as I stood inches from it upon the beach. It´s an awe inspiring experience to be before such a gentle quiet yet fiercly powerful force.
Brazil is the first country I have visited where no one in Rio De Janeiro, the most popular tourist destination in Brazil, heart of the economy, where NO ONE really speaks English. Since I am not a tourist really, I go to school here now, I buy groceries and cook dinner, I send out for laundry, I feel as though I slightly understand what it must be like to be an immigrant like my students who arrived with absolutely no language skills. Walking down a street and a lady walking her dog smiling at me and trying to chat and I have no idea what she is saying. At the vendors to buy a calling card I slowly find myself playing a game of charades to be understood. Americans are probably the only ones who assume those in other countries will know their language. What foreigner immigrates here speaking to others in their native tongue and upset that they don´t know it. And what makes this all the more bewildering is that they presume I am Brazilian. I walk down the streets and not a vendor approaches me, not a hat or eyeglass seller looks my way. I am one of them, and its presumed that these trinkets hold no interest.
I feel that this time is an eye opening experience for me. I am on my own in a foreign country. I live by myself with no roomate, I have no television, no radio. It´s me myself and I when I am in the room which admittedly I am not in very much because there is so much to do and see and study and I~ve met wonderful people on the program to have lunch dinner and see the sights. (Even found a running partner. Can you imagine waking up at sunrise to run by Impanema beach??? Me neither, hvent done it yet :) but I´m starting tomorrow.) Most people here are much more into the night life experience and it is an overwhelmingly huge atmosphere of partying and drinking and dancing. Naturally a lot of people probably came just for that. Ofcourse I dont do that but I´m grateful to have found people like myself here because it would be a very isolating experience if it was only me whod rather sit at a cafe and people watch while reading my assignments for class. But still...when I come back at night there are no distractions. No television to drown out thoughts, no other person to distract, you face you. In some ways I feel I´ve found a new friend, its hard to explain.
I have so much more to say, like about the mangoes I discovered today that are truly splendid down to the last bite. But I will write more later and hopefully not as scattered as these thoughts are. Forgive the disorganization.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Of Steaks and Cakes
Some friends invited us over tonight for an impromptu dinner (best steak EVER btw) and I have to hand it to Syed and his cake. What must the cake lady at Publix have thought as he told her what he wanted it to say! lol.I can't believe I leave today for Brazil, the place I've for months debated and discussed, a mere hypothetical ready to be realized. I'm having "hypersensitive packing syndrome" however which is keeping me up. As soon as I lay down something I forgot to pack pops up in my head. In the words of the eloquent Homer Simpson "d'oh!"
Some friends and family have asked me about internet access while I'm in Brazil. I think the program covers some internet cafes in the area so I will hopefully access the net while I'm there but i'm not sure of the logistics.
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Did anyone watch the ER season finale?!? This is my first full ER viewing season. I know I'm a tad late jumping into the game but I LOVE Parminder and I've really enjoyed this season particularly the Dar Fur episodes. However tonight because of the great conversations I only caught the last ten absolutely horrifying minutes of it. I know this is a serious medical drama but this season finale was so depressing I feel I must send flowers to the writers and feed them godiva chocolate so they can write at least one character with a happy storyline. Seriously. Dr. Kovatch on a Gurney watching helplessly as his pregnant girlfriend Abby falls to the floor bleeding profusely? Whe is he tied up in a Gurney? The desk receptionist close to death? The rebel nurse and son and the shooter (her baby daddy) running off in an ambulance? WHAT KIND OF CLIFF HANGER IS THAT? The cliffhanger: Everyone on the show is now dead and theyll be introducing a new cast next season?!? Huh? Explanations greatly appreciated.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Bereft
Today I went to the bank to put my wedding ring away before leaving for Rio on Friday. Its amazing how an inanimate object attached to an appendage can mean so much. I'm not a "girlie girl" wearing oodles of jewlery and tons of makeup but I always wear my ring. Today as I took it off and it made a soft clang against the metalic box it seemed...sad. Though it stands for no more than a ring given by someone I love more now than the day it found its way upon my finger its also been a silent witness to the trials and tears, laughter and late night meals. Its watched silently, judging not. And as I tucked it away and turned the key, sitting in my car instinctively rolling a finger over where it used to be I missed it feeling strangely bereft.
Monday, May 15, 2006
Happy Anniversary To Me!
So I look at my archives and I realize... I've been blogging for two years! I am quite impressed I've done it for so long. Huda introduced me and I did it to write because though I fancied myself a writer I never really... wrote. I started with an audience of two (give or take a few) and sporadic posts but it helped me put "pen to paper" more than before and better express myself in words. And then... I'm not sure how or why, but somehow more people started reading... and slowly I readin about them. Somehow in the course of these two years a community formed. A community of people most of whom I've never met. Its a satisfying feeling to connect through one's thoughts and ideas with others particularly when I'm so busy in my daily life that its hard to sometimes get that communication as easily and frequently as I'd prefer.
So on this two year anniversary I have a small, teeny tiny favor to ask you. I've been curious, how and when did you come across this small plot of land in the internet world? Did you google over, link over? What makes you come back every now and then and check in? Is there any particular thing you like to read more/less about? And a special request for the "lurkers" (internet lingo for quiet readers who dont leave comments), I see you! I know you're out there but y'all stay pretty quiet. Who you be? Where you from? How/When'd you come here too?
Please share, pretty please?
So on this two year anniversary I have a small, teeny tiny favor to ask you. I've been curious, how and when did you come across this small plot of land in the internet world? Did you google over, link over? What makes you come back every now and then and check in? Is there any particular thing you like to read more/less about? And a special request for the "lurkers" (internet lingo for quiet readers who dont leave comments), I see you! I know you're out there but y'all stay pretty quiet. Who you be? Where you from? How/When'd you come here too?
Please share, pretty please?
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Losing Identity
A while ago one of my brothers said "You know Api you haven't changed at all" I looked at him puzzled as he said "yeah, you're still you." I didn't get it. Ofcourse I'm different. Got a house with my very own monthly payments. I cook. a feat only those closest to me can full appreciate. I think about taxes. Grocery shop. Freeze leftovers.
But yesterday on Oprah. Lance Armstrong's ex-wife was discussing her failed marriage and about losing her identity in her marriage. Focusing on the needs of the other, compromising to the point that you forget yourself. Oprah responded, "this is why I never got married, I did not want to lose my identity." (Although she's lived with Stedman since forever.. so is it just the act of marriage stripping one of identity?) It reminded me of a conversation with a friend hours before my wedding "It'll be nice at first but things will change. Expect it and you will be less hurt" I protested but she smiled, a smile which in retrospect breaks my heart, "No matter how nice a husband all women give up a part of themselves when they marry" That was what my brother meant. Sure I compromise, sure in some ways I've changed. But I'm still me.
I knew some of my friends suffered abuse and painful divorces but I never fully considered that even in successful marriages women often lose their identity. I know girls completely different after marriage.. fusing into a couple so completly I can't identify where they went. These are not necessarily bad marriages, but are marriages where the preoccupation of the needs of others lent to their forgetting who they themselves were. I see it a lot in the joint family system where inlaws live together under one roof...the son's wife in charge of everything. Who was she? Who is she now? One person shouldn't be doing all the changing. Do you fear morphing? Have you seen people morph... or did you morph?
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction”-Antoine de Saint-Exupery
But yesterday on Oprah. Lance Armstrong's ex-wife was discussing her failed marriage and about losing her identity in her marriage. Focusing on the needs of the other, compromising to the point that you forget yourself. Oprah responded, "this is why I never got married, I did not want to lose my identity." (Although she's lived with Stedman since forever.. so is it just the act of marriage stripping one of identity?) It reminded me of a conversation with a friend hours before my wedding "It'll be nice at first but things will change. Expect it and you will be less hurt" I protested but she smiled, a smile which in retrospect breaks my heart, "No matter how nice a husband all women give up a part of themselves when they marry" That was what my brother meant. Sure I compromise, sure in some ways I've changed. But I'm still me.
I knew some of my friends suffered abuse and painful divorces but I never fully considered that even in successful marriages women often lose their identity. I know girls completely different after marriage.. fusing into a couple so completly I can't identify where they went. These are not necessarily bad marriages, but are marriages where the preoccupation of the needs of others lent to their forgetting who they themselves were. I see it a lot in the joint family system where inlaws live together under one roof...the son's wife in charge of everything. Who was she? Who is she now? One person shouldn't be doing all the changing. Do you fear morphing? Have you seen people morph... or did you morph?
Love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking outward together in the same direction”-Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Free at last! Free at last!
I am free. Freeee! Last exam today and walking down the corridor out the backdoor into the sunlight I suddenly felt a hopskip in my walk and a song in my head "I can see clearly now the rain is gone! I can see all obstacles in my way!! It's gonna be a bright! bright! bright and sunshiny day!" Ah I'm glad its over! Though the jumpy anxious feeling is still there. And as I sit here and watch Scrubs and prepare to curl up on the papasan and read Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants I feel guilty like I should be...I don't know... studying?
Brazil is less than two weeks away, and once back I start my internship. The next two weeks will be hectic as I play catchup on all things put off till after exams finished..but at least it doesnt involve sitting in the office with books piled halfway to the ceiling and paper for carpet. Yep. Blessings abound for those who know how to look.
Brazil is less than two weeks away, and once back I start my internship. The next two weeks will be hectic as I play catchup on all things put off till after exams finished..but at least it doesnt involve sitting in the office with books piled halfway to the ceiling and paper for carpet. Yep. Blessings abound for those who know how to look.
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Oh Kaavya, say it ain't so!
Huda is well aware of my fascination with the Kaavya scandal. Kaavya got a $500,000 contract to write two books and a movie deal to boot. As she stood on the precipice to become the next"it" girl, and her first book hit the bookstores, news exploded that she plagiarized. At first it was just Sloppy firsts she "borrowed" from and the publishers were just going to revise and repackage but now now glaring knock offs from the works of Salman Rushdie to Princess Diaries have been discovered and the book is out of print.Here's what gets to me: Kaavya had no book when it all began. Her wealthy parents wanted their snookums to go to Harvard and hired a firm that specializes in kids to get to the school they want (services run upwards of 30,000). Write a book? Yeah that might get you in. So the firm hooked her up with Alloy publishing which helped her create the concept, outline the entire story and co-write the first four chapters. None of this would be known if it hadn't been for the scandal. Why would they hold her hand, you ask? It had nothing to do with writing but everything to do with image. Indian-American teen writing prodigy! How exciting and exotic! She will sell many many books! I feel duped. I would have read this book thinking "wow so young and such writing" when infact it wasn't her at all. Granted she must have had some talent but more important was the marketable image. Is book writing now like the singing/acting industry? As a wanna be writer I wonder if I'm going about this all wrong, instead of manuscripts I should be sending a cute picture of myself hoping a publishing agent will say "wow she's marketable" and then hope they'll hold my hand and babysit me through writing the book. Bitter? just a tad I suppose.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
Things I'd rather be doing
1. learn to juggle tomatoes
2. stand in the rain while waiting for my turn to try out for American Idol.
3. run the UN
4. count the popcorns on the ceiling
5. sleep
6. research the sleeping habits of penguins
7. drive a bus
8. win a staring contest with a rock
9. watch my favorite lifetime movie. (You know, the one where the girl falls in love with a great guy only to find out he's abusive and then has to change her identity and flee? you know, that one!)
10. anything but study. almost.
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Two random "newsworthy" events, one brilliant, one... ugh.
Ugh: Now the world eagerly awaits Baby Brangelina. Eagerly? 6 billion people have nothing better to eagerly await? At least ten newspapers with this headline. Ugh.
Brilliant: Stephen Colbert tells it like it is at the DC Press Conference. Mia has a link here. Best part: "Let's review the rules... the president makes decisions... The press secretary announces those decisions, and you people of the press type those decisions down... Put them through spell check and go home. Get to know your family again....Write that novel you got kicking around in your head. You know, the one about the intrepid Washington reporter with the courage to stand up to the administration. You know- fiction!" Moments like those give me inexplicable pride to be an American. Seeing an ordinary man stand up there and say what he did before the most powerful man on earth.. wow. Makes you value freedom of speech. Speaking of which, off to study for First Amendment! Until Tuesday... Adeiu. Sniff :(
2. stand in the rain while waiting for my turn to try out for American Idol.
3. run the UN
4. count the popcorns on the ceiling
5. sleep
6. research the sleeping habits of penguins
7. drive a bus
8. win a staring contest with a rock
9. watch my favorite lifetime movie. (You know, the one where the girl falls in love with a great guy only to find out he's abusive and then has to change her identity and flee? you know, that one!)
10. anything but study. almost.
-----------
Two random "newsworthy" events, one brilliant, one... ugh.
Ugh: Now the world eagerly awaits Baby Brangelina. Eagerly? 6 billion people have nothing better to eagerly await? At least ten newspapers with this headline. Ugh.
Brilliant: Stephen Colbert tells it like it is at the DC Press Conference. Mia has a link here. Best part: "Let's review the rules... the president makes decisions... The press secretary announces those decisions, and you people of the press type those decisions down... Put them through spell check and go home. Get to know your family again....Write that novel you got kicking around in your head. You know, the one about the intrepid Washington reporter with the courage to stand up to the administration. You know- fiction!" Moments like those give me inexplicable pride to be an American. Seeing an ordinary man stand up there and say what he did before the most powerful man on earth.. wow. Makes you value freedom of speech. Speaking of which, off to study for First Amendment! Until Tuesday... Adeiu. Sniff :(
Monday, May 01, 2006
Reasons people sue (I kid you not)
1. Broke beer bottle on telephone pole inches away from the bottle and the shards cut him. Sued the beer company for not designing a safer beer bottle.
2. Swallowing a razer and suing Gillette because they said the razer was stainless steel but it wasn't and thus didnt show up on the Xray when he got injured.
3. Banging in a nail with a loaded revolver because the hammer was too far away and suing the gun company because you shot yourself.
4. Drinking spark plug cleaner to get high and then suing for unsafe product.
5. Grown woman locks herself ON PURPOSE in the car trunk to kill herself but changed her mind and then wasn't able to get out. Sues Ford.
6. Grown man climbs onto the roof of his neighbors house to dive into a shallow above ground pool and gets injured. Sues the pool company. (Wins)
Except for #6 none of them won. Remember the Seinfeld episode where Kramer spilled coffee and sued, right as the opposing counsel said "First, we'll give you a lifetime supply of coffee, and then we'll..." and Kramer interrupts and says "I'LL TAKE IT!"? It's sad that such things truly do happen. Whoever the lawyers were who took these cases it's your fault good decent lawyers have to grin and bear the lawyer jokes!
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