OK, I don't think I have much to report for the day, but then again, I didn't yesterday either.
Brevity is the language of the soul.
Today was my first day starting in my department; it was pressure free. There is a large volume of work to do, but my coworkers are diligent without putting too much pressure on themselves or making themselves into work-martyrs. I like that and I'm going to try to work diligently too while I'm there and not let my work drag out or sacrifice my evenings. (There is plenty of that to do if I wish - as in any volunteer-run organization more staff are perpetually desired - with at least the variety of helping other departments.)
My trainer is very kind, though she scared me a bit by telling me that because, in a department of 7, all but two would leave within a few months, so she would train me to be a trainer, owing to the slim pickings. Now I can't imagine ever having another job in which I'll be trained to be a trainer, but I think I will be up to it. I'm not going to let her impress upon me too hard the need to develop my thinking as a trainer now (I don't think she will). It's my first and most important job to learn.
So, I learned some basic things; nothing seems too difficult so far. It's all very formal. I really have to have a lot of attention to detail. I'm so happy a Chilean girl's in my office. I've heard some mixed reviews about the comprehensibility of the Chilean accent(s), but hers is perfectly clear to me (it's strange that I would have so much trouble with native accents in Colombia and Panama, but whenever I meet a native out of context I have no trouble understanding).
It was a fairly light and a quick day. At lunch I picked up a tome I've had my eyes on for a while; it is basically a very well compiled reference index (and now that I've purchased it and searched for a link to the Amazon page or something, I find it's free online). After work I went to the Haifa pilgrim house again and spent some quality time with Chicago radio personality (well not anymore, he's dead) Bill Sears's Release the Sun (a sort of easy reading version of Nabil's narrative, a historical account of the beginnings of the Baha'i faith, which I'm told is a bit like reading a telephone book for all the names it mentions without much in the way of further detail). He's a really entertaining writer; I've read some lighter stuff by him too and think he is very funny. I think his best known book is (hey, why not one more link?) God Loves Laughter; it's sort of an autobiography. Anyway, I was one of two people in the Haifa pilgrim house and I think I'll spend a lot of time there; the Baha'i books it holds don't quite fill the bookshelves of one small room (at least the English ones), but they are amazing books, possibly someone's hand-picked treasures. I looked through all of them and made a list of all the books I'd like to read. The list currently totals 18 (and I decided to skip over the scripture shelf because then the list would be way too long).
At 8:00 I got up to head for home, but exactly then I started hearing a lot of noise outside, and I remembered about the protest on Abbas Street. I'll confirm or deny this when I figure it out (I can't find anything in the news right now), but I think it is in protest of this. I looked around the pilgrim house for someone to tell me the safest way home, but no one was there. So I got rather nervous; my reason was telling me that someone would come at 8:30 to shut down the place, and my irrational side was telling me that I didn't know that for sure. Of course the custodian came around at 8:30 sharp and told me the safest way down the mountain.
So much for brevity.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
September 29
Today I will be brief: I learned some of the basics of Israel life, including that the Baha'i World Center is very on top of emergencies, and I will be alerted if my safety is in danger. It is Israeli law that every building contain a bomb shelter. There is a huge, well stocked one between the main buildings of the world center. It even has a computer lab, not that I suspect that I will be terribly interested in checking my e-mail under a bomb threat (it's for general use and just so happens to be in the bomb shelter). Also, Israelis are very aware and cautious about bomb threats and suspicious objects, and they are very good about not minding if, for example, their groceries get blown up as a suspected bomb. Israeli culture is also one that is very protective of strangers; just say you need help and Israelis will flock. I write this because I was told a story about one person whose relative in Germany freaked out when she heard of something that happened in Israel. So, there is not a reasonable reason for anyone to freak out; I am well looked after.
Later on I met the members of the ITC, the international teaching committee, which I will describe later. I found the most wonderful and comfortable place I've found yet, which is the Haifa Pilgrim House, a house for pilgrims when there were fewer Baha'is. Now it functions as more of a historic site, and a place to pray, meditate, and (most excitingly for me because I've been looking for a place like this, and not finding one) read - it contains a reading room. The woman who showed us around and talked to us about the significance of the Haifa Pilgrim House, as well as the very nearby Shrine of the Bab, has been at the world center for 17 years, and she delivered what is really the most inspiring talk I have heard since I arrived. I wanted to tell her how grateful I was, but before I could find her she had disappeared. I plan to go back tomorrow to absorb some more of her knowledge and to read in the reading room.
Finally I took the bus to the top of Mount Carmel to Merkaz, a commercial district. (by the way, I don't think I've gotten around to mentioning this, but the Baha'i World Center is built into Mount Carmel; I live at the base; most of the buildings I frequent are halfway up, and Merkaz sits on top). I had my first shoarma (AKA shawarma); it was delicious but I was told that the best are at the base of the mountain, much closer to me! I looked around in a grocery store and saw that the prices of many items are quite high; I think food is generally more expensive here than in the United States. I know that clothing is significantly more expensive here.
It was a lovely day; it concluded the bulk of my orientation, save for a few days here and there and my Hebrew lessons. I start training in my department tomorrow, excitingly.
Later on I met the members of the ITC, the international teaching committee, which I will describe later. I found the most wonderful and comfortable place I've found yet, which is the Haifa Pilgrim House, a house for pilgrims when there were fewer Baha'is. Now it functions as more of a historic site, and a place to pray, meditate, and (most excitingly for me because I've been looking for a place like this, and not finding one) read - it contains a reading room. The woman who showed us around and talked to us about the significance of the Haifa Pilgrim House, as well as the very nearby Shrine of the Bab, has been at the world center for 17 years, and she delivered what is really the most inspiring talk I have heard since I arrived. I wanted to tell her how grateful I was, but before I could find her she had disappeared. I plan to go back tomorrow to absorb some more of her knowledge and to read in the reading room.
Finally I took the bus to the top of Mount Carmel to Merkaz, a commercial district. (by the way, I don't think I've gotten around to mentioning this, but the Baha'i World Center is built into Mount Carmel; I live at the base; most of the buildings I frequent are halfway up, and Merkaz sits on top). I had my first shoarma (AKA shawarma); it was delicious but I was told that the best are at the base of the mountain, much closer to me! I looked around in a grocery store and saw that the prices of many items are quite high; I think food is generally more expensive here than in the United States. I know that clothing is significantly more expensive here.
It was a lovely day; it concluded the bulk of my orientation, save for a few days here and there and my Hebrew lessons. I start training in my department tomorrow, excitingly.
September 28
Since today was Yom Kippur, the city was the quietest I've ever seen a city; I had to walk to work so I walked up the steps of the terraces (yes, all of them, well, except for one) of the Shrine of the Bab to go to orientation. I was really sweaty and tired by the top. The morning was dominated by dry but necessary policy review, then we went to visit the gardens on the arc (just left of the terraces), called the Monument Gardens, because they contain monuments to certain family members of the founder of the Baha'i faith, who were also prominent somehow in the faith's history. Then we did more practical things, and dispersed. I just went home; I'm told I'll be really busy in no time, because there are just so many things I can do here - take classes, go to "this" theme night or "that" theme night, translate talks for pilgrims, volunteer in other capacities, visit the holy shrines, go out to dinner, just go visit a friend...etc. - so for now, I am just enjoying the process of settling into my new home.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
September 27
I want to say thank you to Aunt Susan for helping me to clarify which day I am. I don't think I can be blamed for my misinformation since I just crossed seven or eight time zones, and daylight saving time in Israel is over as of this morning. So, if you wish, take note that I am now seven, not eight, hours ahead of central time.
Tonight marks the beginning of the holiest day of the Jewish year, Yom Kippur (Jewish days start at sunset on the night before what we consider the day, and of course they end at the next sunset). Basically everything shuts down and it is considered inappropriate to drive or make much noise. Any drivers risk having stones hurled at their vehicles. Walking is ok. So I went on a walking tour of the neighborhood tonight with a girl who has been here two months and another new person, to get acquainted with where to buy food in the area. It was really sad to see a number of people driving around on motorcycles and shouting, to be purposefully disrepectful.
Though it was dark and everything we came across was closed, I got a good idea of where to go for groceries, housewares, restaurants, etc. I learned that I am reimbursed for a limited number of meals in a restaurant up to a limited price. I think that's tremendously generous. All the funds that keep this place afloat come from donations from Baha'is all over the world, so I am definitely going to use a lot of discretion if I'm going to take advantage of that privilege.
As for the day, my first day of orientation, it went really well. The emphasis was on spiritual preparation for my service. We met with the members of the Universal House of Justice, which was really an honor, as most Baha'is don't get to meet and greet them personally. They are administrators so they have no higher a spiritual station than anyone else, but they do direct the affairs of the Baha'i world, so that's quite a responsibility. They are also able to provide guidance on anything not addressed in the Baha'i writings, e.g. things that weren't an issue or didn't exist in the middle of the 19th century. In addition to meeting them, we toured the room where they convene for private meetings, which is usually not something volunteers can do for reasons that are obvious.
Later, when my orientation group went to the lovely cafeteria to have lunch together (it doesn't fit my mental image of a cafeteria; it is simple but it is not loud and I don't feel like cattle), the six of us at my table discussed our experiences of becoming a Baha'i. I was relieved when I realized that none of us was raised in a Baha'i family; perhaps there are many more converts serving here than I thought. However, I was profoundly saddened that two of the people just at my table were pressured to join the faith, and explained that they had gone along with what they felt the Baha'is who pressured them (most likely with the best of intentions) wanted them to do.
To do such a thing is explicitly, strictly forbidden in the Baha'i writings, "lest in [Bahai's'] eagerness to further the international interests of the Faith they frustrate their purpose, and turn away, through any act that might be misconstrued as an attempt to proselytize and bring undue pressure upon them."* Unfortunately it's sad but true that some Baha'is look for loopholes in this or don't quite grasp the definition of pressure. I hate how disheartened this made me on the first day. Obviously it worked out well for those in question. Afterwards I talked to one of the ones who felt pressured to join, and just expressed how strongly I felt that what she experienced is disappointing. I hope I didn't make her feel embarrassed or stupid; it is really not an issue that's easy to approach tactfully, but she didn't seem affected.
I don't want to dwell on one issue too much, though. Baha'is believe that every institution, secular or spiritual, encounters its problems. Fundamental to Baha'i belief is the notion that religion on earth is periodically renewed with a new revelation. We acknowledge that one day the Baha'i faith will be so burdened with human error that it will be time to start more or less from scratch. That is something I really love about the faith: we recognize that we have shortcomings. (Identifying them is harder.)
In the afternoon we went as a group of 24 orientees back to the shrine at Bahji, which was lovely again, though short, because we absolutely had to be back in plenty of time for the sherut (shared taxi) driver to drive the sherut back and then drive home, before sunset. It is the most incredibly calm and peaceful place I've visited, and the gardens are so expensive and so beautiful that it is very hard not to arrive at the doors of the shrine without a spiritual frame of mind. To expand a bit on my explanation of the shrine: it is the spot where all Baha'is turn (approximately) when saying a daily prayer; this is symbolic of our solidarity and commitment to our faith.
Something I have to confess is that we were spoken to very briefly today about confidentiality. I don't really understand it, so I'm glad I'll have a more detailed explanation of it tomorrow. I think the guidelines I came away with were oversimplified; they boiled down to not revealing the inner workings of the BWC willy-nilly, which is common sense, but they also boiled down to "just try to share inspiring things with the people back home." Perhaps I will eventually see reason in this counsel, but for now, it doesn't make sense to me to paint an unrealistic portrait of life here. Perhaps it's simply a policy forged out of respect for those who may never be able to afford to visit the Baha'i holy land, and would be reasonably offended to hear griping about it from those who have the privilege of being here a long time. I'll have tomorrow to sort it out and ask my questions....
Also, I followed up on my own speculation about why going to night clubs is not permitted. That policy is meant to help to limit persecution of the Baha'is in Iran by trying to minimize our association with symbols of the idea of a decadent West. That is definitely, however, a subject best left to be explained on another day. I apologize if the blog content seems poorly explained; I will work on writing shorter entries as less of life here is completely new to me, and I will try really hard to write clear and concise and balanced explanations of Baha'i beliefs and practices.
*Shoghi Effendi, The Advent of Divine Justice
Tonight marks the beginning of the holiest day of the Jewish year, Yom Kippur (Jewish days start at sunset on the night before what we consider the day, and of course they end at the next sunset). Basically everything shuts down and it is considered inappropriate to drive or make much noise. Any drivers risk having stones hurled at their vehicles. Walking is ok. So I went on a walking tour of the neighborhood tonight with a girl who has been here two months and another new person, to get acquainted with where to buy food in the area. It was really sad to see a number of people driving around on motorcycles and shouting, to be purposefully disrepectful.
Though it was dark and everything we came across was closed, I got a good idea of where to go for groceries, housewares, restaurants, etc. I learned that I am reimbursed for a limited number of meals in a restaurant up to a limited price. I think that's tremendously generous. All the funds that keep this place afloat come from donations from Baha'is all over the world, so I am definitely going to use a lot of discretion if I'm going to take advantage of that privilege.
As for the day, my first day of orientation, it went really well. The emphasis was on spiritual preparation for my service. We met with the members of the Universal House of Justice, which was really an honor, as most Baha'is don't get to meet and greet them personally. They are administrators so they have no higher a spiritual station than anyone else, but they do direct the affairs of the Baha'i world, so that's quite a responsibility. They are also able to provide guidance on anything not addressed in the Baha'i writings, e.g. things that weren't an issue or didn't exist in the middle of the 19th century. In addition to meeting them, we toured the room where they convene for private meetings, which is usually not something volunteers can do for reasons that are obvious.
Later, when my orientation group went to the lovely cafeteria to have lunch together (it doesn't fit my mental image of a cafeteria; it is simple but it is not loud and I don't feel like cattle), the six of us at my table discussed our experiences of becoming a Baha'i. I was relieved when I realized that none of us was raised in a Baha'i family; perhaps there are many more converts serving here than I thought. However, I was profoundly saddened that two of the people just at my table were pressured to join the faith, and explained that they had gone along with what they felt the Baha'is who pressured them (most likely with the best of intentions) wanted them to do.
To do such a thing is explicitly, strictly forbidden in the Baha'i writings, "lest in [Bahai's'] eagerness to further the international interests of the Faith they frustrate their purpose, and turn away, through any act that might be misconstrued as an attempt to proselytize and bring undue pressure upon them."* Unfortunately it's sad but true that some Baha'is look for loopholes in this or don't quite grasp the definition of pressure. I hate how disheartened this made me on the first day. Obviously it worked out well for those in question. Afterwards I talked to one of the ones who felt pressured to join, and just expressed how strongly I felt that what she experienced is disappointing. I hope I didn't make her feel embarrassed or stupid; it is really not an issue that's easy to approach tactfully, but she didn't seem affected.
I don't want to dwell on one issue too much, though. Baha'is believe that every institution, secular or spiritual, encounters its problems. Fundamental to Baha'i belief is the notion that religion on earth is periodically renewed with a new revelation. We acknowledge that one day the Baha'i faith will be so burdened with human error that it will be time to start more or less from scratch. That is something I really love about the faith: we recognize that we have shortcomings. (Identifying them is harder.)
In the afternoon we went as a group of 24 orientees back to the shrine at Bahji, which was lovely again, though short, because we absolutely had to be back in plenty of time for the sherut (shared taxi) driver to drive the sherut back and then drive home, before sunset. It is the most incredibly calm and peaceful place I've visited, and the gardens are so expensive and so beautiful that it is very hard not to arrive at the doors of the shrine without a spiritual frame of mind. To expand a bit on my explanation of the shrine: it is the spot where all Baha'is turn (approximately) when saying a daily prayer; this is symbolic of our solidarity and commitment to our faith.
Something I have to confess is that we were spoken to very briefly today about confidentiality. I don't really understand it, so I'm glad I'll have a more detailed explanation of it tomorrow. I think the guidelines I came away with were oversimplified; they boiled down to not revealing the inner workings of the BWC willy-nilly, which is common sense, but they also boiled down to "just try to share inspiring things with the people back home." Perhaps I will eventually see reason in this counsel, but for now, it doesn't make sense to me to paint an unrealistic portrait of life here. Perhaps it's simply a policy forged out of respect for those who may never be able to afford to visit the Baha'i holy land, and would be reasonably offended to hear griping about it from those who have the privilege of being here a long time. I'll have tomorrow to sort it out and ask my questions....
Also, I followed up on my own speculation about why going to night clubs is not permitted. That policy is meant to help to limit persecution of the Baha'is in Iran by trying to minimize our association with symbols of the idea of a decadent West. That is definitely, however, a subject best left to be explained on another day. I apologize if the blog content seems poorly explained; I will work on writing shorter entries as less of life here is completely new to me, and I will try really hard to write clear and concise and balanced explanations of Baha'i beliefs and practices.
*Shoghi Effendi, The Advent of Divine Justice
Saturday, September 26, 2009
September 26
Today has not been nearly as much of a whirlwind as yesterday. I slept until I thought it must be morning, found out it was 4:00 am, rattled around a bit before I decided I should probably go back to bed, and slept until 2:30 pm. Then I met my last flatmate, a Canadian. (One of the others is from Kenya, and the other is Iranian-American). I don't know why, but there seem to be a lot of people from Thunder Bay here. There are the most volunteers from the United States. Also, as one might imagine, most volunteers are coming from Baha'i families. One even said it was "so cute" that I came to volunteer here after I became a Baha'i later in life. Um...hmm...yeah. Then again, one of the people I went with to the shrine at Bahji, a new volunteer like me, had a remarkably parallel story; he became a Baha'i only two and a half years ago, graduated from school and worked for a year before coming here. So I'm not completely an oddball which is good.
Anyway, I unpacked all my things in my lovely apartment, and to my happiness I have storage space to spare. I have maybe 5 big drawers and a couple of shelves I don't know what to do with. The same probably can't be said of the girls who came on my same flight. We were a sight trying to pile onto the train with approximately 100 pieces of luggage. I packed considerably lighter than the rest of them. I assumed it was silly not to figure that anything I needed could be bought here and many of those things I would just buy as I needed in the U.S., anyway. I guess I'll see about that.
So my orientation starts tomorrow...and finishes on Tuesday night. I hope that's enough time to absorb what I need to know, though of course there are people everywhere to ask everything. I've already found out about a number of curious restrictions. As a volunteer I cannot: 1) go to night clubs (this was probably permissible in the past and probably became forbidden for reasons that can easily be inferred) 2) date Israelis (this is a weird one but I think is related to the next) or 3) live in Israel. The last one I understand to be an agreement with the Israeli government, though the major figures in the Baha'i faith, I believe, discouraged living in Israel before Israel became a state...out of respect for Jews? I have the facts mixed up in my head (and many are missing) but I have plenty of time to sort myself out and fill myself in.
All in all, these restrictions don't really mean a lot to me; the only one that might even affect me is the second one, because an (apparently liberal) Israeli flirted with me as we waited to board the plane to Tel Aviv in the airport in Istanbul. (He was an actor and a very nice guy. I seem to attract artists.) And I don't think that one will really be an issue, either.
I didn't think I'd be learning more than a little Hebrew; after all, I can't move here, and most everyone speaks English. But it turns out I'll be having Hebrew lessons (at lunch). Cool.
Anyway, I unpacked all my things in my lovely apartment, and to my happiness I have storage space to spare. I have maybe 5 big drawers and a couple of shelves I don't know what to do with. The same probably can't be said of the girls who came on my same flight. We were a sight trying to pile onto the train with approximately 100 pieces of luggage. I packed considerably lighter than the rest of them. I assumed it was silly not to figure that anything I needed could be bought here and many of those things I would just buy as I needed in the U.S., anyway. I guess I'll see about that.
So my orientation starts tomorrow...and finishes on Tuesday night. I hope that's enough time to absorb what I need to know, though of course there are people everywhere to ask everything. I've already found out about a number of curious restrictions. As a volunteer I cannot: 1) go to night clubs (this was probably permissible in the past and probably became forbidden for reasons that can easily be inferred) 2) date Israelis (this is a weird one but I think is related to the next) or 3) live in Israel. The last one I understand to be an agreement with the Israeli government, though the major figures in the Baha'i faith, I believe, discouraged living in Israel before Israel became a state...out of respect for Jews? I have the facts mixed up in my head (and many are missing) but I have plenty of time to sort myself out and fill myself in.
All in all, these restrictions don't really mean a lot to me; the only one that might even affect me is the second one, because an (apparently liberal) Israeli flirted with me as we waited to board the plane to Tel Aviv in the airport in Istanbul. (He was an actor and a very nice guy. I seem to attract artists.) And I don't think that one will really be an issue, either.
I didn't think I'd be learning more than a little Hebrew; after all, I can't move here, and most everyone speaks English. But it turns out I'll be having Hebrew lessons (at lunch). Cool.
September 25
The last two weeks have gone by really fast; they couldn't do anything else. To recap in brief, I went to Duluth to visit Jaime for three happy, comfortable and relaxing days, where I saw the beautiful aerial lift bridge, lovely Washburn and Bayfield Wisconsin, Madeleine Island (future site of Jaime's wedding), the UW-Superior campus, hiking trails, kitties, several used bookstores, a scary movie about the food industry, and a not scary restaurant to balance it out. Then I flew back home, where I had a great time seeing family and friends, and a frenzied time packing, before I left for Haifa.
I left Milwaukee for Haifa at about 6:00pm on Wednesday, and I arrived in my flat at about 6:00am on Friday. (If anyone can tell me the difference between a flat and an apartment I would greatly appreciate it. The English here is by and large British English, I think because Israel used to be under British control. Why the Baha'i World Centre chooses to use British English while most volunteers are American, I don't know, perhaps because it's local preference.) Anyway, I was really tired. I wondered how long they would let me sleep.
The answer was not long. I woke up, my circadian rhythm completely disoriented, about about noon or 12:30 to go to Bahji near Akka (also spelled Akko and Acre), to visit the Shrine of Baha'u'llah, founder of the Baha'i faith. I want to describe everything I've seen and done in detail, but there is just too much to describe in one entry and still hold anyone's attention, so better descriptions will come. Suffice it to say that it was an amazing experience; the shrine is surrounded by vast (and I mean vast) gardens, immaculately kept, with a cool visitor's center to provide some relief from the intense heat outside.
The floor of the shrine itself is covered with Persian carpets (Persian carpets are big here; I think they must be donated by the Iranian Baha'is because they are absolutely everywhere...there's one in my flat), which is great because the carpets muffle people's footsteps, and the holiest place on earth to Baha'is ought to be rather quiet. There are several rooms for prayer and meditation in the shrine, and in the near right corner is the burial site of Baha'u'llah (this is a title that means "the glory of God" in Arabic; his given name was Mirza Husayn Ali. Why this shrine is relatively remote from the Baha'i World Center in Haifa is beyond me at this point. I've never wondered about it; I didn't even know it was quite so far. We drove about half an hour to get there.
In any case, it was an amazing experience; during the visit I had a clarity of mind I've never had before. I went in a group of five total people. We were chatting before we entered the shrine itself, but after we left we walked in silence toward the visitors center for a very long time; I don't think any of us wanted to bring ourselves back to earth right away.
When we came back I went straight to meet what is called my "neighborhood contact". It's a bit of a misleading title because mine does not live in my neighborhood. That's just as well considering that I have three flatmates (two of whom I've met, and they're quite nice) who can show me around. Sara specifically requested to be my neighborhood contact because she's in my department. My department is seven people, so this seems to defeat the purpose of meeting and feeling connected to more people...whatever, that's ok. I am glad she's eager to be sure that I have at least one strong connection.
Anyway, we met for dinner and ended up in a group of four, and visited a sandwich shop. While it was my first experience with Israeli food, there was nothing particularly unfamiliar or special about it. I didn't get sick so that's a good thing. Afterward was an event called "youth presents" or something which amounted to a talent show. As far as quality (and intensity) of entertainment goes, it might have been better I rested after dinner...that's not because the young people here don't have much talent - they are very talented - but because I was so conscious of my fatigue. Anyway, it was good to meet a few people and see some personalities in action. There were some funny acts.
After the performance I was very tired and didn't know my way back in daylight, let alone in the dark; still Sara and I had a hell of a time finding someone to take me back to my flat, because it's Friday night which is the beginning of the weekend here (Muslims rest on Friday and Jews rest on Saturday...and Baha'is at the World Center rest on half of Friday and on all of Saturday), and I guess all the good going out places are further up the hill; the show was halfway up and I live at the base. I could not help wondering where all the hospitality I'd met with at the airport had gone to; several people came to pick up four new arrivals at once at 2 in the morning, and none of them said it bothered them to do it (though I guess what else is there to say?). But one girl even said she volunteered.
In any case, I could see why people were reluctant to walk down and back up the hill when I got a sense of just how huge it is. I am really excited to walk up the whole thing at once, and I think it will probably singlehandedly put me in serious shape. And I guess if you only have one and a half days to enjoy your weekend, and it sounds like the workweek is pretty intense, you are not going to let much stop you from enjoying it. I kind of like that, or I will once I find my way around this place :)
I left Milwaukee for Haifa at about 6:00pm on Wednesday, and I arrived in my flat at about 6:00am on Friday. (If anyone can tell me the difference between a flat and an apartment I would greatly appreciate it. The English here is by and large British English, I think because Israel used to be under British control. Why the Baha'i World Centre chooses to use British English while most volunteers are American, I don't know, perhaps because it's local preference.) Anyway, I was really tired. I wondered how long they would let me sleep.
The answer was not long. I woke up, my circadian rhythm completely disoriented, about about noon or 12:30 to go to Bahji near Akka (also spelled Akko and Acre), to visit the Shrine of Baha'u'llah, founder of the Baha'i faith. I want to describe everything I've seen and done in detail, but there is just too much to describe in one entry and still hold anyone's attention, so better descriptions will come. Suffice it to say that it was an amazing experience; the shrine is surrounded by vast (and I mean vast) gardens, immaculately kept, with a cool visitor's center to provide some relief from the intense heat outside.
The floor of the shrine itself is covered with Persian carpets (Persian carpets are big here; I think they must be donated by the Iranian Baha'is because they are absolutely everywhere...there's one in my flat), which is great because the carpets muffle people's footsteps, and the holiest place on earth to Baha'is ought to be rather quiet. There are several rooms for prayer and meditation in the shrine, and in the near right corner is the burial site of Baha'u'llah (this is a title that means "the glory of God" in Arabic; his given name was Mirza Husayn Ali. Why this shrine is relatively remote from the Baha'i World Center in Haifa is beyond me at this point. I've never wondered about it; I didn't even know it was quite so far. We drove about half an hour to get there.
In any case, it was an amazing experience; during the visit I had a clarity of mind I've never had before. I went in a group of five total people. We were chatting before we entered the shrine itself, but after we left we walked in silence toward the visitors center for a very long time; I don't think any of us wanted to bring ourselves back to earth right away.
When we came back I went straight to meet what is called my "neighborhood contact". It's a bit of a misleading title because mine does not live in my neighborhood. That's just as well considering that I have three flatmates (two of whom I've met, and they're quite nice) who can show me around. Sara specifically requested to be my neighborhood contact because she's in my department. My department is seven people, so this seems to defeat the purpose of meeting and feeling connected to more people...whatever, that's ok. I am glad she's eager to be sure that I have at least one strong connection.
Anyway, we met for dinner and ended up in a group of four, and visited a sandwich shop. While it was my first experience with Israeli food, there was nothing particularly unfamiliar or special about it. I didn't get sick so that's a good thing. Afterward was an event called "youth presents" or something which amounted to a talent show. As far as quality (and intensity) of entertainment goes, it might have been better I rested after dinner...that's not because the young people here don't have much talent - they are very talented - but because I was so conscious of my fatigue. Anyway, it was good to meet a few people and see some personalities in action. There were some funny acts.
After the performance I was very tired and didn't know my way back in daylight, let alone in the dark; still Sara and I had a hell of a time finding someone to take me back to my flat, because it's Friday night which is the beginning of the weekend here (Muslims rest on Friday and Jews rest on Saturday...and Baha'is at the World Center rest on half of Friday and on all of Saturday), and I guess all the good going out places are further up the hill; the show was halfway up and I live at the base. I could not help wondering where all the hospitality I'd met with at the airport had gone to; several people came to pick up four new arrivals at once at 2 in the morning, and none of them said it bothered them to do it (though I guess what else is there to say?). But one girl even said she volunteered.
In any case, I could see why people were reluctant to walk down and back up the hill when I got a sense of just how huge it is. I am really excited to walk up the whole thing at once, and I think it will probably singlehandedly put me in serious shape. And I guess if you only have one and a half days to enjoy your weekend, and it sounds like the workweek is pretty intense, you are not going to let much stop you from enjoying it. I kind of like that, or I will once I find my way around this place :)
September 11
I am (obviously) writing this post retrospectively; a lot of people asked me if it was weird to spend September 11 in Quebec and I have to say it was not weird. The anniversary was honored and remembered in Quebec too, I think especially because Montreal is so close to New York City. I didn't think to ask when I was there, but I wonder how Montrealers felt when the attacks happened; they were probably afraid too.
Anyway, this day marks my last full day in Montreal. It was pretty hard to say goodbye to everyone. I made some good friends. My morning professor asked me about the next step in my life, and I had some difficulty explaining it in French, but I conveyed that I was going to Haifa so my professor told me to say hello to his former student Omre from Haifa...ha ha.
In the afternoon and evening I wanted to get together with my friends from McGill, Ariel and Thurukka, to say goodbye to them. We wanted to go to the Chinese Lantern Festival, but having doubts about the admission fee and not knowing where it was, we ended up in my favorite place in Montreal, Little Italy. We had dinner at a nice little Italian restaurant, which had great food and a lot of characters, including a big table with lots of drunk women and one drunk man. All the women insisted loudly on having a picture taken with the one man. I'm not sure there were aware that they weren't the only people in the restaurant, so our waitress winked and poked fun at them when she came around to us. She was very entertaining.
After that my friends insisted on taking me to Tim Horton's, a coffee chain, for an iced cappuccino, which is not much more than a cheap Frappuccino, but apparently it's a staple of college life in Montreal, and they felt very strongly that I should experience it. So I made them happy.
Then I went home late and packed (from start to finish) in a whirlwind. There were a lot of things I wish I'd had the time to do in Montreal and didn't, but then again, I came to learn French I and did plenty of that, so there's nothing to regret.
Anyway, this day marks my last full day in Montreal. It was pretty hard to say goodbye to everyone. I made some good friends. My morning professor asked me about the next step in my life, and I had some difficulty explaining it in French, but I conveyed that I was going to Haifa so my professor told me to say hello to his former student Omre from Haifa...ha ha.
In the afternoon and evening I wanted to get together with my friends from McGill, Ariel and Thurukka, to say goodbye to them. We wanted to go to the Chinese Lantern Festival, but having doubts about the admission fee and not knowing where it was, we ended up in my favorite place in Montreal, Little Italy. We had dinner at a nice little Italian restaurant, which had great food and a lot of characters, including a big table with lots of drunk women and one drunk man. All the women insisted loudly on having a picture taken with the one man. I'm not sure there were aware that they weren't the only people in the restaurant, so our waitress winked and poked fun at them when she came around to us. She was very entertaining.
After that my friends insisted on taking me to Tim Horton's, a coffee chain, for an iced cappuccino, which is not much more than a cheap Frappuccino, but apparently it's a staple of college life in Montreal, and they felt very strongly that I should experience it. So I made them happy.
Then I went home late and packed (from start to finish) in a whirlwind. There were a lot of things I wish I'd had the time to do in Montreal and didn't, but then again, I came to learn French I and did plenty of that, so there's nothing to regret.
September 10
Today I wrote and submitted a final essay for the class. There is a definite disconnect between my oral and written skills, actually a huge gap. If I just had the talent for conversation that I do for writing, I would be all around advanced in my learning, but at least I've been told that I have a really nice accent.
I was very excited to see a photography exhibit in the evening. It was supposed to be led by the school; we were to meet at the Lionel Groulx metro station and from there the school activities coordinator, Jessica, would take us to the exhibit. None of us had the address or even the name of the exhibit, which was a mistake, because Jessica never showed up. Tonight is maybe the ninth time I'm SO GLAD I know my money is being spent so wisely. The group of six was uncertain what to do; when a number of people waiting in the long line at the bus station proved to know nothing about the exhibit we wanted to see, I tried suggesting that we walk along a major street, find a tourist information booth, anything, but although we were all agreed Jessica wasn't coming, the general consensus was that we ought to just stand there. I found a sharp German in the bunch who saw the reason in not just standing around, and we consulted a map she had to find a tourist information booth marked on it, just up the street. Said booth turned out to be a kiosk stuffed with fliers. Great. Near it we found a lovely canal park with an information booth that appeared to ordinarily contain a real live person, but it was closed as it was getting dark.
So the group finally dissolved. By then it was too late to do much of anything. I hopped back on the metro and went to browse the bookstore near the Mont-Royal metro station that I'd found the day before, but I didn't have enough time to browse in. I spent the whole night there browsing the French titles and reading bits of this and that. There was a huge section devoted to the history of Quebec, where I finally found out who Lionel Groulx was (a famous writer and essayist). I didn't buy anything because it was outrageously expensive, but all in all it was not a completely lost evening.
I was very excited to see a photography exhibit in the evening. It was supposed to be led by the school; we were to meet at the Lionel Groulx metro station and from there the school activities coordinator, Jessica, would take us to the exhibit. None of us had the address or even the name of the exhibit, which was a mistake, because Jessica never showed up. Tonight is maybe the ninth time I'm SO GLAD I know my money is being spent so wisely. The group of six was uncertain what to do; when a number of people waiting in the long line at the bus station proved to know nothing about the exhibit we wanted to see, I tried suggesting that we walk along a major street, find a tourist information booth, anything, but although we were all agreed Jessica wasn't coming, the general consensus was that we ought to just stand there. I found a sharp German in the bunch who saw the reason in not just standing around, and we consulted a map she had to find a tourist information booth marked on it, just up the street. Said booth turned out to be a kiosk stuffed with fliers. Great. Near it we found a lovely canal park with an information booth that appeared to ordinarily contain a real live person, but it was closed as it was getting dark.
So the group finally dissolved. By then it was too late to do much of anything. I hopped back on the metro and went to browse the bookstore near the Mont-Royal metro station that I'd found the day before, but I didn't have enough time to browse in. I spent the whole night there browsing the French titles and reading bits of this and that. There was a huge section devoted to the history of Quebec, where I finally found out who Lionel Groulx was (a famous writer and essayist). I didn't buy anything because it was outrageously expensive, but all in all it was not a completely lost evening.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
September 9
School is beginning to drag out a little bit. While I love to learn and learning French is really a treat, the habits of my professors that waste time are getting to me. I have the same professor the whole morning and he loves to mix us up into different groups several times throughout the morning. Honestly, if you want to mix people to get them to get to know everyone in the class, good, great, but...once a day is enough. He also left the class for a while today to do personalized feedback for some students, and the class worked independently while he was out...great, but do I really have to be paying to do independent work? Especially when no outside study is assigned to us as a general rule; would it hurt us to have just a little?
One of my afternoon professors loves to fly through vocabulary exercises faster than I can write down and process the meanings of all the words. I've taken to jotting the words down and meaning to look them up later.
In any case, I learned the conjugation and principles for use of the subjunctive today, so I'm fully equipped to continue my studies independently, if the subjunctive in French is anywhere near as complicated as it is in Spanish. It seems to be. I've learned a number of other verb conjugations really faster than I can practice them, which is fine with me. I can practice all the things I have learned later for free.
In the evening I went to a metro station looking for a French-language bookstore that I'd found online; I didn't find that particular store but I found a number of others all set in a markedly mostly-French neighborhood. It was a beautiful store and I want to go back. It had more books about Quebec and Montreal than I've seen anywhere else. Also I don't know how advisable or inadvisable it is, but I was tempted by the bilingual French and Spanish editions of some books. Hm, maybe not the best idea....
Later I met with some friends for dinner and snacks and good conversation. It was the last time I'll see them and I'll miss them a lot. They were the first people I've said goodbye to and it was hard. It's going to be really hard to leave here; I love it so much and I already have a few thoughts in my head about coming back someday.
One of my afternoon professors loves to fly through vocabulary exercises faster than I can write down and process the meanings of all the words. I've taken to jotting the words down and meaning to look them up later.
In any case, I learned the conjugation and principles for use of the subjunctive today, so I'm fully equipped to continue my studies independently, if the subjunctive in French is anywhere near as complicated as it is in Spanish. It seems to be. I've learned a number of other verb conjugations really faster than I can practice them, which is fine with me. I can practice all the things I have learned later for free.
In the evening I went to a metro station looking for a French-language bookstore that I'd found online; I didn't find that particular store but I found a number of others all set in a markedly mostly-French neighborhood. It was a beautiful store and I want to go back. It had more books about Quebec and Montreal than I've seen anywhere else. Also I don't know how advisable or inadvisable it is, but I was tempted by the bilingual French and Spanish editions of some books. Hm, maybe not the best idea....
Later I met with some friends for dinner and snacks and good conversation. It was the last time I'll see them and I'll miss them a lot. They were the first people I've said goodbye to and it was hard. It's going to be really hard to leave here; I love it so much and I already have a few thoughts in my head about coming back someday.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
September 8
Most of the day wasn't a very good day, but when I think about it none of that is worth mentioning. What is worth mentioning is that I saw another film directed by Hayao Miyazaki, the person who has gotten me to like a little anime (thus far only his). Anyone who has kids in their life in any way at all should have them see this man's films; they are beautiful and they often even have good messages for little kids, not like much of the crap that is all you can find for kids. The movie was dubbed in French so I didn't understand a lot but Fadia helped me, and after all it was a kids' movie, so it wasn't terribly difficult to catch on and catch up.
I suppose it's also worth mentioning that I tried poutine. It's a dish of quebecois origin that consists of a pile of fries, a few lumps of cheese, and gravy. It is really the only uniquely quebecois dish that comes to the mind of anyone I've asked, which is really too bad. I wish there were more strictly local dishes I could try. Well in any case, I've had one culinary cultural experience while in Montreal.
I suppose it's also worth mentioning that I tried poutine. It's a dish of quebecois origin that consists of a pile of fries, a few lumps of cheese, and gravy. It is really the only uniquely quebecois dish that comes to the mind of anyone I've asked, which is really too bad. I wish there were more strictly local dishes I could try. Well in any case, I've had one culinary cultural experience while in Montreal.
Monday, September 7, 2009
September 7
Today was another lovely day. Canada observes labor day the same as the United States, so I didn't have classes; instead Fadia the professional relaxer and I went to the park and sunbathed. Of course I'm not much of a sunbather but we went to the park to swim in the pool, but both forgot our suits, and went to plan B.
After that we strolled the marche Jean Talon again and browsed little Italy before making our way to a patisserie for cake for my birthday. We debated between walking and taking the metro and ended up walking (I mentioned to Fadia that I was tired so I wanted to take the metro, and she said I was lazy, so I said let's walk, because I really don't want her to think that Americans are lazy).
It turned out to be a better idea to walk because we saw a ridiculous parade. I caught a parade unexpectedly in Colombia and it was completely different, full of military marches and beauty queens of the past years; this parade was full of crazy artsy pretentious people doing things like wear red plastic bubbles on their heads and dancing to techno music. OK.
We then made our way to the patisserie and had big slices of chocolate cake that ended up being our dinner, and happened to talk about what else but diabetes the whole time. Naturally then we followed up cake with ice cream. We were able to take the ice cream on the bus, which really surprised me and then Fadia thought I was crazy for being so surprised.
Then at home I finished the first crochet project I've ever worked on, a preposterously narrow scarf that really started out as a practice piece, so thank you Tom for teaching me how to do it. It is about twice as wide at the beginning as it is at the end, and twice as loose too. I don't think I'll drop so many stitches in my next effort.
Anyway, tomorrow begins my last week of school in Montreal; I'll have to enjoy it as much as possible while learning as much French as I can while I'm still semi-immersed in it, so the way I use my time is really going to be a balancing act.
After that we strolled the marche Jean Talon again and browsed little Italy before making our way to a patisserie for cake for my birthday. We debated between walking and taking the metro and ended up walking (I mentioned to Fadia that I was tired so I wanted to take the metro, and she said I was lazy, so I said let's walk, because I really don't want her to think that Americans are lazy).
It turned out to be a better idea to walk because we saw a ridiculous parade. I caught a parade unexpectedly in Colombia and it was completely different, full of military marches and beauty queens of the past years; this parade was full of crazy artsy pretentious people doing things like wear red plastic bubbles on their heads and dancing to techno music. OK.
We then made our way to the patisserie and had big slices of chocolate cake that ended up being our dinner, and happened to talk about what else but diabetes the whole time. Naturally then we followed up cake with ice cream. We were able to take the ice cream on the bus, which really surprised me and then Fadia thought I was crazy for being so surprised.
Then at home I finished the first crochet project I've ever worked on, a preposterously narrow scarf that really started out as a practice piece, so thank you Tom for teaching me how to do it. It is about twice as wide at the beginning as it is at the end, and twice as loose too. I don't think I'll drop so many stitches in my next effort.
Anyway, tomorrow begins my last week of school in Montreal; I'll have to enjoy it as much as possible while learning as much French as I can while I'm still semi-immersed in it, so the way I use my time is really going to be a balancing act.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
September 6
Today was my birthday; it was quite nice. After I woke up I got to call home and that was very nice to do for the first time in nearly four months, though I was breaking up a lot because Skype is just not very good sometimes. Fadia and I went shopping in the morning but I managed to resist buying anything; I already bought myself a book as a birthday present to myself the other day. So I don't feel as much like my money is slipping through my fingers. Then we went for a walk through Old Montreal, watched a caricaturist at work, looked at paintings and photography, walked along the parks and decks overlooking the river and relaxed on a bridge that overlooked the river. There really isn't much more to say about it than that it was wonderfully and welcomely relaxing. After that I went to a party held because one of the McGill students I've met shares a birthday with me. It was really quite a big party, 20 or 30 people, but also my kind of party despite its being so big, because most everyone there was quite friendly and relaxed, and because the main events were a delicious feast and a Bollywood movie. I've never seen a (whole) Bollywood movie and I found it quite funny, though I'm not sure to what extent the producers meant it to be funny. Overacting was overabundant. Amitabh Bachchan played one of the characters, and I looked him up to be able to remember the name of the film, because I remembered his name. I found that there may not be a Bollywood movie in history that has not featured Amitabh Bachchan. It's funny that he's in his late sixties and looks it and he is still an exceedingly popular actor in India. This could be a coincidence; after all, look at Sean Connery. But there were even a few older female actors, interestingly. Anyway, it was a day spent in good company and I'm really grateful for having a wonderful birthday.
September 5
Owing to wearing myself out all throughout the week, and poor timing of laundry, I spent most of the day on the balcony, reading, which isn't a bad thing, not at all....
September 3
I realized today in class just how much my listening skills have improved. They do use quite basic vocabulary but it's amazing that I can understand basically everything my professors say, and they speak in French all of the time. I am looking for ways to oversee my own continuing education in French, and I think a journal with a French dictionary at hand will help me best in building vocabulary that is important to me. I am looking for texts in French as well to improve my reading skills, because of course there are facets of the language I will never learn if I produce the only French text I read. My morning professor wants me to overcome my dictionary dependence, but if I become a translator there will be no way around a dependence on multiple dictionaries. So why not start now? I want to understand all the fine shades of meaning of everything now, and I want to be free of stupid circumlocution, I want the right word, damn it; and maybe I need to realize that as yet I just cannot.
Every time I go shopping in Montreal I am amazed at the prices. As a rule of thumb, most everything is at least three times as expensive as I think it should be. Notebooks at a standard store are three dollars apiece. Renting a bike from one of the city's clever kiosks (for lack of a better word) is $6.50 an hour, making it not such a clever move on the city's part after all. Keep in mind that there is very little disparity at the moment in the exchange rate between U.S. and Canadian dollars. They're worth practically the same. One person has even told me that they think prices in New York City are cheaper...wow. I've learned to take advantage of the Dollarama one floor below my school in the same building. Suddenly an ordinary notebook for $1 seems like a good deal. Now I can see why Canadians seem to have a preoccupation with dollar stores. My budget is slowly tightening as it seems my money slips through my fingers. I had to turn down my classmates' invitation to a $26 dinner at a Japanese buffet (yes, that is not a typo, a $26 buffet).
What is odder to me than the idea of a buffet at fine-dining prices, is the fact that my classmates were surprised that the American in the class was more worried about spending money than they were. Of course among most of them all they know of the states is California and/or New York, which are both more expensive than the midwest is. Some of my classmates don't seem concerned about money at all. While the United States does not have a wonderful track record in this department, it's hard to imagine what it's like to live in a country like Brazil or Colombia (where most of my classmates are from) and have everything when so many people have so so so little. It was never easy to deal with as a backpacker in Colombia. I'm not sure quite how I managed to deal with it. I just pushed the issue into the back of my head a lot because I wanted to do something but what is there to do? It's really hard to volunteer abroad in Colombia unless you want to work in a national park, as I once found out well into my trip. Anyway, I don't mean to fault my classmates for having a good time and for having happy comfortable lives. I just wish everyone could.
Every time I go shopping in Montreal I am amazed at the prices. As a rule of thumb, most everything is at least three times as expensive as I think it should be. Notebooks at a standard store are three dollars apiece. Renting a bike from one of the city's clever kiosks (for lack of a better word) is $6.50 an hour, making it not such a clever move on the city's part after all. Keep in mind that there is very little disparity at the moment in the exchange rate between U.S. and Canadian dollars. They're worth practically the same. One person has even told me that they think prices in New York City are cheaper...wow. I've learned to take advantage of the Dollarama one floor below my school in the same building. Suddenly an ordinary notebook for $1 seems like a good deal. Now I can see why Canadians seem to have a preoccupation with dollar stores. My budget is slowly tightening as it seems my money slips through my fingers. I had to turn down my classmates' invitation to a $26 dinner at a Japanese buffet (yes, that is not a typo, a $26 buffet).
What is odder to me than the idea of a buffet at fine-dining prices, is the fact that my classmates were surprised that the American in the class was more worried about spending money than they were. Of course among most of them all they know of the states is California and/or New York, which are both more expensive than the midwest is. Some of my classmates don't seem concerned about money at all. While the United States does not have a wonderful track record in this department, it's hard to imagine what it's like to live in a country like Brazil or Colombia (where most of my classmates are from) and have everything when so many people have so so so little. It was never easy to deal with as a backpacker in Colombia. I'm not sure quite how I managed to deal with it. I just pushed the issue into the back of my head a lot because I wanted to do something but what is there to do? It's really hard to volunteer abroad in Colombia unless you want to work in a national park, as I once found out well into my trip. Anyway, I don't mean to fault my classmates for having a good time and for having happy comfortable lives. I just wish everyone could.
September 4
After a half day at school because it's Friday I went on a tour of McGill University with the students I met on Sunday. The McGill campus has some really fascinating quirks: a McGill student is famously responsible for Houdini's death; the family of the person (McGill, of course) who devoted his will to the founding of a university tried very hard to stop it, believing in those times that those wanting a quality education should just go to Europe; McGill himself is buried in a special place right on the McGill campus; and once some curious medical students dug up his bones, which had been moved after his original burial to the campus site, and found one and a half human skeletons there. It turned out the bones of a neighboring grave shifted their way into his site which is apparently not uncommon. Also, the school boasts a huge Islamic studies library despite having a small Islamic studies department, because some important and wealthy political figure from the middle east once visited, decided the collection was insufficient and went on to send "a few books", "a few books" not being a few books at all because now an entire building is devoted to Islamic studies.
So, about the campus: It's relatively compact, with some quite tall buildings, and my impression was that it is really significantly smaller in area than UW Madison despite being three quarters its size. It's right in the thick of downtown but it's more or less enclosed in a fence, and some very smart person took care to preserve a lot of green spaces within the fence. It's really a lovely campus. I went to a Greek myths lecture to see a class in action, which was, unfortunately, still quite introductory and basic, since it was the second lecture of the course, but it let out early. The professor was really a good engaging lecturer and my friend who took me to her class told me that she was very knowledgeable and approachable. Apparently McGill's greatest claim to fame is having great professors, and I don't mean they are just good researchers; they are known for being very personable and very helpful to students, which I think is great.
Afterwards we went shopping and found a Forever 21 store that opened the same day. The line for purchases wrapped around the store twice. I could see why after I checked some prices. It is by far the cheapest store I've seen in Montreal and maybe it will teach other stores around here a lesson. Then again, maybe you get what you pay for. I suppose most stores downtown just have high prices to cover a massively expensive rent each month; it is not after all a sparsely trafficked area. Oh well. Anyway, later I went to the lecture about Abdu'l Baha's visit to Montreal that several people have been hyping up all week, but truth be told it really wasn't very good. The professor who gave the speech had a resume a mile long but that didn't help him give a better speech. Well, it was still reasonably interesting, plus someone gave transition material between segments of the talk in French and I was excitingly enough able to understand most of it because she spoke nice and slowly and clearly.
So, about the campus: It's relatively compact, with some quite tall buildings, and my impression was that it is really significantly smaller in area than UW Madison despite being three quarters its size. It's right in the thick of downtown but it's more or less enclosed in a fence, and some very smart person took care to preserve a lot of green spaces within the fence. It's really a lovely campus. I went to a Greek myths lecture to see a class in action, which was, unfortunately, still quite introductory and basic, since it was the second lecture of the course, but it let out early. The professor was really a good engaging lecturer and my friend who took me to her class told me that she was very knowledgeable and approachable. Apparently McGill's greatest claim to fame is having great professors, and I don't mean they are just good researchers; they are known for being very personable and very helpful to students, which I think is great.
Afterwards we went shopping and found a Forever 21 store that opened the same day. The line for purchases wrapped around the store twice. I could see why after I checked some prices. It is by far the cheapest store I've seen in Montreal and maybe it will teach other stores around here a lesson. Then again, maybe you get what you pay for. I suppose most stores downtown just have high prices to cover a massively expensive rent each month; it is not after all a sparsely trafficked area. Oh well. Anyway, later I went to the lecture about Abdu'l Baha's visit to Montreal that several people have been hyping up all week, but truth be told it really wasn't very good. The professor who gave the speech had a resume a mile long but that didn't help him give a better speech. Well, it was still reasonably interesting, plus someone gave transition material between segments of the talk in French and I was excitingly enough able to understand most of it because she spoke nice and slowly and clearly.
September 2
I think I sound quite repetitive saying every day that I had a great day at school and learned so much, but it's always true, and I guess it's a reaction I can expect myself to have when I devote all my time to learning a language. After school I ran to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which is $8 most of the time but free on Wednesday nights. It was completely packed. And I've never been so impressed with a contemporary art museum. There was a marvellous exhibit downstairs which was basically a music video theater with some of the most visually fascinating music videos I've ever seen...and the music was good!!! Not avant garde crap. I just sat down there enthralled for an hour. Halfway up the stairs kind of tucked away on one side was a piece titled the archives of the MOCA in Montreal or something like that; I took some photos of some things before a guard stopped me, so you can see it. It was basically a metal "door" to a series of shoeboxes or whatever labelled with names and lit with overhead lamps; I guess it was some conceptual "statement" about the weird atmosphere of a contemporary art museum, and the confusion that can result about what's art and what's not. I thought it was cute. In a small room were some crap pencil drawings that I could have done when I was three, and there was nothing at all special about them. I don't know how the artist managed to market himself effectively. That was made up for by the huge exhibit of beautiful sharp prints by Robert Polidori; he's a quebecois artist famous for taking expansive pictures of busy landscapes and destroyed or decaying interiors - e.g., Chernobyl, New Orleans, but interestingly at the forefront of the museum was a collection of photos of a mansion in France. And the Chernobyl photos were way in the back...clever, arranging an artist's works to reflect the process that he is trying to capture. Kudos, MOCA. The last really good exhibit I saw was one by Spring Hurlbut, it's kind of hard to do justice to how eerie it was to see, but her piece was a huge dimly lit room full of very squarely arranged old rusty old crib and bassinet frames. I think the message was dealing with infant mortality. At some point in the night I met someone who attends the nearby UQAM (University of Quebec at Montreal), who invited me to get together to practice French, after I mentioned that it can be difficult to remember to do so. The quebecois are amazingly friendly.
September 1
Today was another really good day and of course I learned a lot. I started taking the metro instead of the bus to school today; I'm going to ride it as much as possible while I can. On the way to school I was stopped by a French speaking couple who were asking for directions; I am not good with directions in French (or English) at all and I didn't want to send them the wrong way, so I tried English, but that didn't work. I guess they were vacationers from France or something. I figured out what street they were looking for and that I didn't know where it was either...then I was really surprised to hear myself saying easily and fluidly that I was really sorry but I've only been in Montreal for a week. It made them laugh so I'm pretty sure they understood me.
I'm starting to develop awareness of how much money I'm spending; so I am trying to rein in my budget. It's not easy especially because it seems like money is no object to most of my classmates. No Quebec City this weekend...but Ariel (one of the McGill students I met on Sunday) told me that she'd take me to tour the Old Port, which she described as a sort of miniature version of Quebec City, without all the expenses and half a day wasted in a train (as admittedly thrilling as it would be to take a train).
I'm starting to develop awareness of how much money I'm spending; so I am trying to rein in my budget. It's not easy especially because it seems like money is no object to most of my classmates. No Quebec City this weekend...but Ariel (one of the McGill students I met on Sunday) told me that she'd take me to tour the Old Port, which she described as a sort of miniature version of Quebec City, without all the expenses and half a day wasted in a train (as admittedly thrilling as it would be to take a train).
August 31
Wow - after this morning I can definitely appreciate the lateness policy. About two thirds of the class just didn't come to the first class of the day at all. Fadia attributed it to the weather. I attributed it to something else, but it doesn't really matter.
The kids in my classes are overall very friendly and wonderful, but they can be frustrating in other ways too - the average age is about 21 so most of them aren't investing their own money to be here. I was doing pair work with a kid who said he didn't understand the directions and played with his cell phone, and nothing I tried got him to engage himself in the activity for anything. Oh well. I'm still learning so much.
I decided that maple syrup isn't the best souvenir for travelling, so I went shopping for art supplies to make mixed-media collages/paintings as souvenirs for people. I'm going to make two-sectioned pieces that each depict one scene in Montreal that means something special for me during my visit, e.g., the harbor where I saw the sailboat performers. I hope people like them. I might bring some maple candy or something too.
The kids in my classes are overall very friendly and wonderful, but they can be frustrating in other ways too - the average age is about 21 so most of them aren't investing their own money to be here. I was doing pair work with a kid who said he didn't understand the directions and played with his cell phone, and nothing I tried got him to engage himself in the activity for anything. Oh well. I'm still learning so much.
I decided that maple syrup isn't the best souvenir for travelling, so I went shopping for art supplies to make mixed-media collages/paintings as souvenirs for people. I'm going to make two-sectioned pieces that each depict one scene in Montreal that means something special for me during my visit, e.g., the harbor where I saw the sailboat performers. I hope people like them. I might bring some maple candy or something too.
August 30
Today wasn't all good but it was definitely the most interesting day I've had all trip. I wanted to go to the Sunday morning Baha'i devotions to meet some more people, and I wasn't sure if they would be in English or French but it turned out I was wrong on all accounts; they were mostly in Persian. Interesting. I met a guy who works at the Baha'i Center as the bookstore keeper; we had a really interesting conversation about the histories of Iran and Quebec and he praised the United States and Americans for their generosity for about half an hour, maybe longer, I couldn't get him to stop but it was really quite nice of him. I also met a guy named Ilia who is about my age, but my goodness, was he ever intense, he is completely devoted to a career in educational systems development or something (I don't really know the fancy terms for it) and it was most of what he talked about for at least half an hour. It was interesting but I felt like I got worn out just listening. As I was about to leave someone mentioned something about a Baha'i shrine in Montreal, and I said, what? There is a shrine here? And the person said I can't believe you don't know about it...you should go, it's open till four. It was 3:00 or so at that time, so I ran to take the bus and arrived there at about 3:40, but the volunteers let me stay a little later.
It was really an amazing experience. The shrine commemmorates Abdu'l Baha's visit to Montreal in 1912; Abdu'l Baha is the son of the founder of the Baha'i faith and Baha'is don't worship him exactly but respect him for having led an exemplary life for Baha'is everywhere. It was a beautiful duplex (the other duplex is being renovated for use as a reception area) mostly filled with the same furnishings that were there in 1912 so the experience of being there was more authentic. There has obviously been a lot of care put into the place to keep it polished. One of the volunteers offered me a ride to the metro station, but then she asked me if I'd like to come to dinner and I agreed. I met her 105 year old father, who was really sharp and lucid (and funny) for his age. I also met her granddaughter who attends McGill University, and her granddaughter's friend...both of them are studying psychology and classics and want to go to medical school; you wouldn't think there would be two students with that particular combination in one university, but it's a big one and I guess that's how they met. One of them happens to have the same birthday as me so we might do something together this weekend.
After dinner there was a talk at somebody house to commemmorate the coming of Abdu'l Baha to Montreal...what? It turns out he actually arrived on August 30th! So of course I had to go to that, and it was really interesting. When I was there I talked to a guy who told me he's a sort of indie rock musician; I told him I'm trying to see a little of everything here so if he could let me know if he's having a show coming up that would be marvellous. So he gave me his name and e-mail address. I looked him up on Facebook when I got home, and he doesn't exactly have a Facebook page, but I was very surprised to find that he does have a Facebook "appreciation" group with a couple hundred members...and his own Wikipedia page with many links to reviews and whatnot. So I met a famous musician (ok, a semi-famous musician...his name is Alden Penner, I'd never heard of him but from what I can see he has quite a regional following). It's been quite the day.
It was really an amazing experience. The shrine commemmorates Abdu'l Baha's visit to Montreal in 1912; Abdu'l Baha is the son of the founder of the Baha'i faith and Baha'is don't worship him exactly but respect him for having led an exemplary life for Baha'is everywhere. It was a beautiful duplex (the other duplex is being renovated for use as a reception area) mostly filled with the same furnishings that were there in 1912 so the experience of being there was more authentic. There has obviously been a lot of care put into the place to keep it polished. One of the volunteers offered me a ride to the metro station, but then she asked me if I'd like to come to dinner and I agreed. I met her 105 year old father, who was really sharp and lucid (and funny) for his age. I also met her granddaughter who attends McGill University, and her granddaughter's friend...both of them are studying psychology and classics and want to go to medical school; you wouldn't think there would be two students with that particular combination in one university, but it's a big one and I guess that's how they met. One of them happens to have the same birthday as me so we might do something together this weekend.
After dinner there was a talk at somebody house to commemmorate the coming of Abdu'l Baha to Montreal...what? It turns out he actually arrived on August 30th! So of course I had to go to that, and it was really interesting. When I was there I talked to a guy who told me he's a sort of indie rock musician; I told him I'm trying to see a little of everything here so if he could let me know if he's having a show coming up that would be marvellous. So he gave me his name and e-mail address. I looked him up on Facebook when I got home, and he doesn't exactly have a Facebook page, but I was very surprised to find that he does have a Facebook "appreciation" group with a couple hundred members...and his own Wikipedia page with many links to reviews and whatnot. So I met a famous musician (ok, a semi-famous musician...his name is Alden Penner, I'd never heard of him but from what I can see he has quite a regional following). It's been quite the day.
August 29
Today I definitely got some practice riding the metro. I rode it to a couple of wrong stops before I found the right one. It wasn't really because the Metro is confusing, it's not, but it's because I wrote bad directions for myself. I was on the metro, anyway, because I was trying to visit the Japanese paper store owned by a couple I met. I expected to drop in, buy something small as a souvenir to support their store, chat a bit and leave, but it ended up being a day long project. I left home at 10:00, but I just missed the bus so I decided to walk around and take pictures while I waited for the next bus. I got so caught up in taking pictures that I missed the next bus, too. When I finally found the paper store area I was starving so I stopped at a café for a little sandwich...and like everything in Montreal, it was way more expensive than I was hoping, it was a sit-down cafe, but it was an awesome sandwich with thick brown bread, bean sprouts (which I don't like, but they were ok there), mayonnaise and mustard and slices of apple and cucumber and Brie cheese. I think it was very European though I don't know.
Anyway, at the paper store I learned all about Japanese paper - it's called washi, which I guess literally translates to mean "Japanese paper". It's known as some of the best paper in the world and it can last for thousands of years because it's made of intact fibers from very strong plants instead of chopped up tree pulp. I remember the processes of drying and dyeing was labor intensive too, but I can't remember them specifically. I looked through many of their dozens of catalogues and felt the sample sheets, some had really interesting textures but they're so difficult to describe in print. Then I explored the store inventory and found the "bargain bin", which is full of packages of scraps of cut paper for collages, etc. So I bought a package and the sweet owner gave me a sheet of really lovely paper as a gift. It was 8.5X11" so it was a standard sized sheet of paper, but it cost $3, and it's worth $3 too, it's beautiful. It's so beautiful I don't know what to do with it.
In the evening Fadia and I planned to walk through Old Montreal more slowly than I did the first time with Jaume, and take lots of pictures, but it was raining so neither walking nor taking pictures was a good idea. So we just spent the night at home and watched a movie with her monolingual French friend. My conversation with him was largely limited to simple sentences, facial expressions, and blank-faced smiling, which was fine with me.
Anyway, at the paper store I learned all about Japanese paper - it's called washi, which I guess literally translates to mean "Japanese paper". It's known as some of the best paper in the world and it can last for thousands of years because it's made of intact fibers from very strong plants instead of chopped up tree pulp. I remember the processes of drying and dyeing was labor intensive too, but I can't remember them specifically. I looked through many of their dozens of catalogues and felt the sample sheets, some had really interesting textures but they're so difficult to describe in print. Then I explored the store inventory and found the "bargain bin", which is full of packages of scraps of cut paper for collages, etc. So I bought a package and the sweet owner gave me a sheet of really lovely paper as a gift. It was 8.5X11" so it was a standard sized sheet of paper, but it cost $3, and it's worth $3 too, it's beautiful. It's so beautiful I don't know what to do with it.
In the evening Fadia and I planned to walk through Old Montreal more slowly than I did the first time with Jaume, and take lots of pictures, but it was raining so neither walking nor taking pictures was a good idea. So we just spent the night at home and watched a movie with her monolingual French friend. My conversation with him was largely limited to simple sentences, facial expressions, and blank-faced smiling, which was fine with me.
August 28
Any day I spend 10 hours speaking in a foreign language is a good one. Today I spent four hours in the morning talking in French, and (because I have no classes on Friday afternoons) six hours talking in Spanish to a nice guy from my school. He is from Barcelona. I think I adore the Spanish. All the Spanish classmates I know are wonderful people. Unfortunately, "all" is just two, and they are both departing tomorrow morning. I certainly hope they bring more Spaniards next week.
While it was a great day there is not too much to report; Jaume (Oops, he's Catalan, not Spanish) the Barcelonan showed me around old Montreal and the lakefront and we saw a great performance by a Cirque-du-Soleil-esque couple on a boat, using some strips of cloth or something that were like sailboat sails to do all sorts of really dangerous looking things way up in the air. Jaume has been in Montreal a while and he studies tourism in Spain, so I couldn't have asked for a better guide around Old Montreal. We saw the Notre Dame cathedral, which is a replica of the one in Paris, and a subway entrance that exactly mimics one in Paris just across the street. What the obsession with copying Europe is I could never grasp. We also saw the (rather short) street that's known as the "Wall Street of Canada". In the same vein McGill is the Canadian Harvard. I don't suppose it's a great thing to imitate your fellow former colonies either. In any case, now I have an open invitation to visit a friend in Barcelona someday. Though he wants to find a job in the United States. So I guess we'll see.
While it was a great day there is not too much to report; Jaume (Oops, he's Catalan, not Spanish) the Barcelonan showed me around old Montreal and the lakefront and we saw a great performance by a Cirque-du-Soleil-esque couple on a boat, using some strips of cloth or something that were like sailboat sails to do all sorts of really dangerous looking things way up in the air. Jaume has been in Montreal a while and he studies tourism in Spain, so I couldn't have asked for a better guide around Old Montreal. We saw the Notre Dame cathedral, which is a replica of the one in Paris, and a subway entrance that exactly mimics one in Paris just across the street. What the obsession with copying Europe is I could never grasp. We also saw the (rather short) street that's known as the "Wall Street of Canada". In the same vein McGill is the Canadian Harvard. I don't suppose it's a great thing to imitate your fellow former colonies either. In any case, now I have an open invitation to visit a friend in Barcelona someday. Though he wants to find a job in the United States. So I guess we'll see.
August 27
Today was another day full of French classes. Time is just flying by; I can't believe it. My listening comprehension skills in French are growing a lot very fast. They're not great but I can listen for the point of something much more easily. In the evening my hostess took me to some sort of marché, market. I don't remember the name but it was packed with fruits and vegetables and it was a bit like the farmer's market in Madison (yes) but not quite so busy. Maybe it reminds me more of the locals' market in Villa de Leyva. Fadia explained that the market was closing early because of Ramadan, but we were still able to do some shopping. I learned that un erable is a maple tree; I think I'm going to bring some maple syrup or maple something home as a souvenir. I have to be careful not to buy too much, not only for the sake of my budget but for the sake of not having to check a second bag. I'm flying a different airline on the way back that charges $20 for the first checked bag and $30 for the second. I think this is madness but of course there's no option but to pay. There is nothing to be done about it which is of course the reason airlines are doing it.
Anyway, over dinner Fadia told me about the history of Algeria. I don't know if I'll ever understand why people don't have it in for Europe a little more. It may be a beautiful and worldly place (I don't know, I've never been), but it's succeeded in completely messing up the rest of the world. Some 120-150 years ago the French government decided to give Algeria as a gift to the poor people of France. The trouble was there were already people living there, so there was a lot of tension and sporadic violence there until World War II, when France asked for Algeria's help in fighting the war, in exchange for promised independence. Algeria agreed, Algeria fought, countless Algerians died, and when France won the war it decided it was better not to fulfill its promise after all. Needless to say, this mildly upset Algeria, and they were not contented by the promise of independence for the southern part of Algeria, which is not the part that's rich in oil. After seven years the French concluded they couldn't win (and how could a nation that had been so horribly cheated just surrender?) and Algeria was free again. The descendants of the families who had established themselves in Algeria had to return to France, where they had absolutely nothing, and that is another sad part of the story. Algeria sounds like it would be great to visit (at least the north, as the south is pure desert), because it's rich in all sorts of acriculture and the attitude of Algerians and Meditteraneans in general, so I'm told, is a happy one. So tonight I had a different picture of north Africa than I'd imagined, and definitely also a more diverse picture of Africa than I'd had after visiting one of the sub-Sarahan countries.
Anyway, over dinner Fadia told me about the history of Algeria. I don't know if I'll ever understand why people don't have it in for Europe a little more. It may be a beautiful and worldly place (I don't know, I've never been), but it's succeeded in completely messing up the rest of the world. Some 120-150 years ago the French government decided to give Algeria as a gift to the poor people of France. The trouble was there were already people living there, so there was a lot of tension and sporadic violence there until World War II, when France asked for Algeria's help in fighting the war, in exchange for promised independence. Algeria agreed, Algeria fought, countless Algerians died, and when France won the war it decided it was better not to fulfill its promise after all. Needless to say, this mildly upset Algeria, and they were not contented by the promise of independence for the southern part of Algeria, which is not the part that's rich in oil. After seven years the French concluded they couldn't win (and how could a nation that had been so horribly cheated just surrender?) and Algeria was free again. The descendants of the families who had established themselves in Algeria had to return to France, where they had absolutely nothing, and that is another sad part of the story. Algeria sounds like it would be great to visit (at least the north, as the south is pure desert), because it's rich in all sorts of acriculture and the attitude of Algerians and Meditteraneans in general, so I'm told, is a happy one. So tonight I had a different picture of north Africa than I'd imagined, and definitely also a more diverse picture of Africa than I'd had after visiting one of the sub-Sarahan countries.
August 26
Today was marvellous (not that I've really been having bad days lately, just good and better), and it's hard to imagine that it started with missing the bus. I was talking to my hostess at breakfast, and I thought I had time to spare but it turned out I did not, and just barely missed it. I ran and waved at the bus driver and I'm sure he saw me but didn't wait for me to cross the street. Are Canadians ever rulesy. Americans can be quite rigid but they don't quite measure up to Canadians. So I went back home and my hostess was kind enough to guide me along an alternate route; went took another bus and went to the metro. The metro, as I found out, is a subway.
A subway! How could I not have known that? I think Fadia got a kick out of my utter fascination with the notion of an underground train. I am pretty sure I looked to anyone like a little kid in a candy store. I'm going to have to take pictures in the metro when I have enough time in the morning to remember to pack my camera. So, I was late to class and my school has another stupid policy that you can't enter the class even if you're a minute late. Even at the university I went to which was funded partly by the state, it was understood that students were paying for classes and should probably have the right to enter discreetly a bit late. I was maybe two or three minutes late, so needless to say I wasn't happy. I guess I can understand but we're all certainly paying enough to have a bit of a grace period the first couple of days, I think. Well, in any case, it was a learning experience. Anyway, I passed the half hour by reading a newspaper in French, until a Venezuelan classmate came along and we started to speak in Spanish. Then a Portuguese classmate came along as well and we spoke in slower Spanish. Then two more people came. So maybe I can see why the policy is in place after all.
Anyway, I learned tons of French and the time is flying by in Montreal. It doesn't feel like I've been here for more than a day and a half. In the evening I wanted to do a walking tour of Old Montreal with my school, but I thought, la-de-dah, I can just take a walk around the area after school (there's so much to explore) and run to the metro station at the last minute. When I double checked the board to make sure the meeting place was the nearest metro station, however, it turned out to really be one that was really far away. There was no way I was not going to be late. So I could have gone home but I figured, hey, I just got here, I'll explore a little more. Yesterday I called the Baha'i Center of Montreal because I figured I'll be surrounded by Baha'is in a matter of weeks, I may as well have a little more practice, why don't I go check out the Baha'i Center and just see if anyone's there or if there's a bookstore or library there or something? The person who answered the phone told me to go to the Sherbrooke metro station and walk from there, so of course in part it was just an excuse to ride the metro. I found my way so easily it surprised me.
A subway! How could I not have known that? I think Fadia got a kick out of my utter fascination with the notion of an underground train. I am pretty sure I looked to anyone like a little kid in a candy store. I'm going to have to take pictures in the metro when I have enough time in the morning to remember to pack my camera. So, I was late to class and my school has another stupid policy that you can't enter the class even if you're a minute late. Even at the university I went to which was funded partly by the state, it was understood that students were paying for classes and should probably have the right to enter discreetly a bit late. I was maybe two or three minutes late, so needless to say I wasn't happy. I guess I can understand but we're all certainly paying enough to have a bit of a grace period the first couple of days, I think. Well, in any case, it was a learning experience. Anyway, I passed the half hour by reading a newspaper in French, until a Venezuelan classmate came along and we started to speak in Spanish. Then a Portuguese classmate came along as well and we spoke in slower Spanish. Then two more people came. So maybe I can see why the policy is in place after all.
Anyway, I learned tons of French and the time is flying by in Montreal. It doesn't feel like I've been here for more than a day and a half. In the evening I wanted to do a walking tour of Old Montreal with my school, but I thought, la-de-dah, I can just take a walk around the area after school (there's so much to explore) and run to the metro station at the last minute. When I double checked the board to make sure the meeting place was the nearest metro station, however, it turned out to really be one that was really far away. There was no way I was not going to be late. So I could have gone home but I figured, hey, I just got here, I'll explore a little more. Yesterday I called the Baha'i Center of Montreal because I figured I'll be surrounded by Baha'is in a matter of weeks, I may as well have a little more practice, why don't I go check out the Baha'i Center and just see if anyone's there or if there's a bookstore or library there or something? The person who answered the phone told me to go to the Sherbrooke metro station and walk from there, so of course in part it was just an excuse to ride the metro. I found my way so easily it surprised me.
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