Hebrew

I began learning Hebrew yesterday. I am one of only 10 students, and only one other is a graduate like myself (and I have EVERY class with him! Crazy!). But I'm still the dumbest one in the class. In just two short days I have developed a great deal of sympathy for the students for whom learning is/was always a challenge - for whatever reason. All the kids in my class are Jewish, and I think all of them, with one possible exception, learned to read and write Hebrew at a young age. They don't speak it, which is why they're in the class, but they sure have a huge jump on me!

So, there I was, desperately trying to figure out where the teacher was on the page (we had learned five symbols/letters in the Hebrew alphabet the day before, but all of a sudden she was expecting us to know several more!), when she called on me to read. The girl next to me kindly pointed out where to begin, and then had to keep prompting me as I painfully struggled to sound out the words - and usually failed. I felt like I was in pre-school again, and I don't even remember that experience! There were just so many things she kept talking about that I didn't know, that I couldn't stay with her. I became that student that dreaded if the teacher called on me. She did, of course, call on me several more times, hoping that I had caught up. And then she asked me to stay after class. I was good with that - I needed the help. She assured me that I could do this, but I had to learn the alphabet by next week (how strange to be talking about learning the alphabet - I feel so dumb!). Oh, no worries! I'll have it down by the end of the day!

So, I have spent the last 2 hours writing each word in the alphabet at least two-dozen times. Yep, pre-school again. I'm halfway through, because I've practiced reading with those letters in between, and took a break for lunch. Now it's back into the dungeon of the library to continue. I don't know how I can do this much work for just one class, and work, and sleep.

Rain

I must have been quite a sight - plodding along with my jacket zipped up all the way, my hood pulled tight, but my soaking bangs flapping against my forehead, and water dripping down my nose, and my arms weighed down with about 6 very large and heavy grocery bags. Well, one of them was my tote, as I do try to avoid plastic bags as much as possible. I did bring an umbrella, don't you worry. I just couldn't hold it up, so I neatly packed it into one my bags. The walk from the grocery store is about 10-15 minutes (it took all of those 15 minutes, as I walked slow and steady). As I had spent much more than I had hoped to spend, I defiantly refused the taxi offers, and was sure I could make it on my own. And away I went in the rain.

What I must look like to the people around me! Drenched, dragging my bags along, and WHITE! It makes me chuckle a little. Two streets down from my street, as I paused for a moment to shift the bags on my hands (really to give my aching arms a break), a young man offered to help. I swallowed my pride and let him carry the tote - the heaviest bag. His name was Arthur, and we chatted as we walked. I was very grateful. And I made it. But I'm wondering about my wisdom in opting not to have a car.

School starts this week, and beginning tomorrow I have orientations, both for work and for life at Brandeis. I am excited and nervous. And a bit discouraged about the jobs on campus. Our opinions of what consitute a student job vary greatly. I have gotten two jobs - the two I most wanted, even - and they total 10 hours a week. TEN HOURS! I can't live on that - I can possibly pay rent. So, I'm looking at other possibilities. Life could get very interesting.

So, now I'm off to hand in my resume at Barnes and Noble. I do love books - it could be great! For all of you who are praying for rain, just know that it's coming down out here in Boston. Let it rain!

The faces of Dorchester

I get around. That's what Shirla, the woman I live with, tells people about me. This is because I go explore the streets where I live, looking for the farmers market, grocery store, etc. And I take the train to the other places I need to go. She offers to drive me, or come pick me up from the T (subway) station, but I prefer to walk. She is a natural mother, and takes good care of me. And she gets after me when I don't call her to come pick up me up.

In my explorations, it has become very clear that I am a rarity in these parts. I get a lot of curious looks, being one of very few white people around, and with my "sweet face" and all (again, the words of Shirla). Today I wandered down to the busier part of town to check out bank accounts. Neither of the women I consulted spoke very clear English - they were both Vietnamese. But I managed.

As I made my way to the dollar store, the music playing in the shopping plaza was the old song, "Embraceable You". I felt as though I were in some kind of hoity-toity fundraising ball - other than the cool, humid air, the various faces of loiterers turned my way, and the faint garbage smell. When I left, the music had changed to Pavarati, or another variation, wailing Italian opera. And to complete the sound picture, as I walked by the grocery store, I heard vague snippets of the old whistle song from Clint Eastwood's The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. I just chuckled and walked on.

It rained for a while last night, and Boston was humid today. Truly. Maybe this is nothing, maybe I haven't seen anything yet. But this was the muggiest day I've ever experienced. It's like they say - everything feels sticky, but not in a sugary way. It wasn't miserable though. And it was cool. August, and the weather was in the low 70's - or at least it felt that way.

So, there's a picture for you. I don't know if anyone reads these, but thank you for your prayers and friendship. I have felt very uplifted by prayer and the Lord's Spirit. I'm grateful. Until next time...

p.s. The ice cream man is making his rounds again, only he has changed his song to "The Entertainer". This is the third time passing my street - how many times will he come, I wonder?

Ahem...ahem! Announcing Amber's arrival to Boston!

Arial, Courier, Georgia...goodness! The font options sure are limited! None of them seems sufficient to express my thoughts right now. Arial it is.

Mine is a mind that is ever aware of how I would describe the current moment to someone. As I move through each activity of the day, whatever it might be, I often think of it in literary terms, scripting it almost like a novel or a movie. I know, lame, right? But the funny thing is that when I sit down to write it, I really struggle to figure out what to say. I'm not sure why that is.

And so it is with this day. This day I have had so many thoughts. Is everyone this way? Head so full of thoughts, comments, realizations, all the time? It's impossible to record it all, and I think it's such a tragedy to lose it! Let me tell you where I am at this moment. I'm in Dorchester, Boston, just south of downtown Boston. I'm in a little 4-story home (each story gets a little smaller - I'm on the top floor, but it's just my room and a tiny little storage room) on a street called Longfellow. This area isn't the nicest neighborhood in terms of high class - houses a bit run-down, dirty streets and sidewalks. And I feel entirely the minority - a white girl, college student. I do not fit in. And I don't have a clue what I'm doing - I don't know how grad school is supposed to work! I hope I get a good job, that I can make ends meet, and be diligent enough to do all this. I feel all that weigh on me. But my house is nice - the nicest on the street, with a beautiful little patio out back, a well-cared-for flower garden out front, and my room, though rather small, is lovely and cool. The last time I felt this excited, apprehensive, scared, and determined all at once was during those first few days of my mission. This is exactly how I felt. Only then I was with someone 24-7. Now it's just me.

But I know that's not true. Sometimes I let it feel true, and I crumble into an emotional, scared mess. But every time I have prayed, I have felt a peace come over me. The apprehension is still there, but I'm not alone, and the fear doesn't control me. I feel strong enough to do this. The woman I live with is very kind. She is an avid Christian, and so excited for us to share our beliefs with one another. Already she has asked to read one of my books (one by Sheri Dew). She said of all the people who responded to her Craigslist posting, she felt certain she wanted me, for some reason. She insists there is a reason I'm here. I do hope that she will let me show her the truth.

An ice cream truck just drove by, playing "It's a Small World". I never felt that truer than now (seems almost ironic) - our street is very multi-cultural, but quiet and nice. I love new adventures like this. I really do. Saying goodbye to my family was harder than I expected, and facing all of this unknown is challenging, but I really do feel at peace when I remember my Savior's grace, how He has blessed me so much in my life, and has cared for those who have gone before.

Speaking of those people, whom I now revere so much for their faith to follow the Lord, I would like to report on some of my most recent firsts. I'll record them all in just a moment. First, I would like to comment on what a wonderful week it's been. My family got along quite well, we saw some amazing places, and my youngest brother Cisco has impressed me so much! He was the only brother that came. He is 15, which we all know could be miserable to share a car with for umpteen hours, but he was delightful. Despite returning from the national Boy Scout Jamboree in Virginia only one day before we left, he remained in good spirits, never complained that we didn't stay in a hotel with a pool (which he really wanted, and I think he deserved it, with his good attitude, hard work, etc.), and was always helpful and kind to both me and my mom. To top it off, of his own accord, he got a notebook and sat and read the Book of Mormon for several minutes, taking notes (in very good penmanship, I must add!) and studying hard. He participated in all the sites, and we all had a great time. My emotions were certainly on the surface - at Winter Quarters and Nauvoo especially, I would get teary each time I would think of the Saints leaving everything they knew behind to cross one of the most forbidding lands imagineable, and this often leaving family and loved ones behind. I am so amazed. I have truly been blessed by the Holy Spirit this week.

So, here are some firsts for this week (ya know, there are a lot of firsts not included, but I've chosen to keep track of the highlights):

22. Wade into the waters of the Mississippi River (Saturday, August 7, 2010)
23. See one of the Great Lakes (Lake Erie - Sunday, August 8, 2010)
24. Go into the upper room of the Newel K. Whitney store, or School of the Prophets (Monday, August 9, 2010)
25. Visit the Hill Cumorah (Tuesday, August 10, 2010)
26. Visit the Sacred Grove (Tuesday, August 10, 2010)

Best of luck to you all, and all my love! Oh, and Mom, you did well! I miss you already.

The Biggest First

Everything is quiet around me at the moment, except for the occasional snort from my dad sleeping in the other room (he used to shake the walls with his snoring), and the sump pump sucking the water from the basement every five minutes or so. It's quite a contrast to the way I feel inside. Tomorrow I depart for Boston. I just barely, less than an hour ago, secured a house, and it's not ideal, but I think it will be good. That mixes with the myriad other emotions and concerns that are all floating around, bumping into each other like atoms in a gas chamber that I learned about in my freshman science class. I am nervous I can't really hack it. I'm excited to live my dream. I hope I'm as smart as I think I am, and can do well enough to get into the PhD program. I hope the commute from this house isn't too long - but it's the only option I have right now. I hope my family isn't hopelessly fractured. I hope I can see my brothers play football and basketball from the internet, or something. I hope I am not too lonely. I just hope.

Those are some of my thoughts as I make my final preparations for Boston. I had a wonderful going away party the other day. So many people came. I was rather surprised that so many people loved me enough to give up their Sunday evening and wish me well. It made me tear up. My heart is already lonesome for my friends. But as I begin this new adventure, I know my Heavenly Father will take care of me. Above all, that is calming reminder that keeps me moving forward. On that note, I'd like to share this quote from Measure for Measure, by Shakespeare:

"Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt."

So, this is the biggest first. I think it's pretty big, deserving of a few points in my "30 firsts", but I'll only count it as one. I have a few more firsts to add to the list.

18. Make falafel (July, 2010 - courtesy of Ruth Adolphson, and Peter Steenblik, who told me where to get the ready-mix kind when our attempts on our own failed miserably).
19. Get a facial (July 28, 2010 - courtesy of Amanda Fulk; and it was SO nice!).
20. Go backpacking to a place I'd never been (July 30-31 - courtesy of Brett Nielsen, primarily, who took us to a beautiful place by Guardsman's Pass).
21. Move to Boston (tomorrow, August 5, 2010 - courtesy of Brandeis University, but especially my family: I couldn't do this without their help and support).

And that's it. Next posting from Boston. Until then, Shalom!

Number 18!

Now, courtesy of Christy Boyer, who very generously had a birthday and gave me reason to go to a really cool restaurant, I am pleased to report that I have accomplished another first! I ate African food for the first time. It was actually quite good. Don't ask me what exactly I ate - I'm not sure. But there were some meats, which were good, and some potatoes, which were also good, and some other unknown, but tasty, items. And it was served with some kind of flat bread that strongly resembled my father's sourdough pancakes - they were soft, spongy, and had a sour flavor. I greatly enjoyed this first!

I would also like to report on my favorite quote of the day: "Why is your face still freaking out!"

Second attempt

All right. OK. All right. Giving it another go. Remember what I said in my last (and only other) posting? About being terrible at this blogging thing? Well, it turns out, I really am! Incredibly, I have successfully gone ten months and not reported on a thing! I justified that sin of omission by simply not giving anyone the blog address (is that what it's called?), so no one knew I was a slacker. But I'm repenting of my wicked, slothful ways, and I'm returning to report.

Since October, however, things have changed a bit. For instance, I did not even apply to an MPA program. No indeed. I applied, and was accepted to, a MA of Near Eastern and Judaic Studies. Hence, I will not be fulfilling the MPA goal, but moving toward a PhD (starting with the MA, of course). I will be attending Brandeis University in Botson, beginning this fall.

Other things I have not done: a full sprint-distance triathlon (but I did do the bike and swim part of one - my friend Julie ran); a 50-mile bike ride; receive submissions for other firsts. Wait, you know what, that last one isn't entirely true. Amanda Fulk sat down with me one lazy, Friday morning, and we came up with a few, some of which I actually agreed to and have done.

Now let me report on what I HAVE accomplished. Some of them come with fun stories, which I will write about another time (can't write too much on just the second entry, right?). For today, I choose to tell you about one of the most recent: the cow tongue. But first, let's celebrate the firsts I have accomplished so far.

1. Ballroom dance lessons (February, 2010) - courtesy of Alesha Mechling, and my patient friend Peter Steenblik, who suffered through a few lessons with me.
2. Dress up crazy (Jubilee from X-Men and Syndrome from the Incredibles) and go out in public (bowling and running around a mall - courtesy of Jessica Ellison and Jessica Asvitt - January, 2010; April, 2010).
3. Visit Boston (thanks to Amber Gates - April, 2010)
4. Be accepted to, and attend, graduate school (April, 2010 - present)
5. Make potato salad (I know - pathetic that I never did before - May 31, 2010)
6. Get a pedicure (May, 2010; Mesa, Arizona)
7. Ride a mustang (oh, yes! Courtesy of my uncle Earl Taylor. It was trained, of course - June, 2010)
8. Skinny dipping for REAL (the clothes came off, and THEN I ran into the pool - June 15, 2010)
9. Attend a temple session at Oquirrh Mountain Temple (June, 2010)
10. Go to Detroit, Michigan (June 16, 2010)
11. Go to Cedar Point Amusement Park in Sandusky, Ohio (June 17, 2010)
12. Paint my toenails red (July 16, 2010)
13. Kiss a girl (completely platonic, let me assure you! Actually, she kissed me! Courtesy of Jessica Asvitt - July 16, 2010)
14. Go to Ikea (great fun! courtesy of Brian Lambson - July 16, 2010)
15. Pour Cement (not so great fun - courtesy of my family - July 10, 2010)
16. Eat Cow Tongue (that one may be the hardest thing to do of all my 30 firsts! Courtesy of Amanda Fulk, who prepared it quite nicely. July 20, 2010)
17. Eat Buffalo (that was rather tasty! And much more lean than beef - July 22, 2010)

A few things still on the list to do:

• Walk a cat - leash and all
• Get a facial
• Sing/play my accordion on a street corner (coming soon to a corner near you...maybe)
• Take a pad of paper and draw at a busy part of town
• Get a part of my body waxed (this could also prove very difficult for me)
• See Boston in the fall AND swim in Walden Pond
• Go to Niagara Falls
• Go to Palmyra New York, attend Temple

So, I'm still looking for a few. Submission still being accepted.

Now, about this tongue business. It was nearly all over for me when Amanda took the tongue out of the pressure cooker and the end was curved up, looking like the tongue was trying to touch the cow's nose, except the tongue was, of course, detached from the face of the cow. I must say it was prepared very well, cut into nice, edible slices, served with garlic and parsley, but it still took me a good 15 minutes to plop the sucker into my mouth (I begged her to cut the taste buds off, but she insisted I eat it that way). I chewed for well over a minute, then forced it down my throat. I did not gag, though it was touch and go for a few moments, and it wasn't that bad. The taste-bud part was a little more chewy than the rest, I will admit. And I couldn't do another bite, but I did eat tongue. Hurray for me!