ENTRY: the source of things

New Years Eve 2007. I sit here thinking about the past year and how different this place I call home is from where I was last year, faced with so many of my greatest life challenges. This year, I'm faced with new beginnings and challenges yet to overcome. I haven't been in this position in a while, planning for the next grand adventure, knowing I have to make the best of life in New York City (as it is truly wonderful these days) but also preparing to let go of it all in the blink of an eye.

I've learned to stop thinking about the future, to live in the moment, to love where I am now, and enjoy the ride. But now, with six months left until graduation, even if I wanted to focus on today, I must think critically about what and where I want to be tomorrow. It has become crystal clear that ambition has and will continue to carry me far in life.

The year 2007 holds the promise of new life transitions. I miraculously managed to knock out half my college credits in one semester and now I unexpectedly need to prepare for graduation. For some reason I have trouble imaging how to use a college degree. I can't see myself in some decent post-graduate 9-5 job in the midst of this rat race, committing to work in the "real world" in order to progress financially. Not yet...perhaps never. I am aiming higher.

Other plans are on my mind. Plans both short- and long-term. Here listed is my Five-Year Plan, although I'm still in the midst of figuring out what exactly I want to do most with this new source of freedom:

• I am applying to the Peace Corps. The rest of my "short-term" plans revolve around whether I am accepted, where I am sent, when I begin service. My intentions are to serve in either Morocco or Jordan. I know you don't necessarily "choose" your destination, but I am hoping that my fluency in French and background in Arabic will qualify me. The revelation of global health care disparities has shaken me to the core and for this reason I aim to volunteer in a women's health clinic. I hope foremost to improve lives, but also to be brought back closer down to earth after these many glamorous years in New York and Paris (to bring my inner-'Kerouac' back out), and to return fluent in Arabic.
• The Peace Corps application process takes 9 to 12 months. After June, that leaves me with six months of down time. I will perhaps stay two months in New York, preparing, paying back loans, taking the GRE exams, scrambling for some spending money, and of course road-tripping up to Maine for Kelsey's wedding. In August, I'll take off, somewhere...
• I'll have approximately five months left before my service in the Peace Corps begins. Through AIESEC, a former acronym for 'Association Internationale des Etudiants en Sciences Economiques et Commerciales' (International Association of Students of Economics and Commercial Sciences), I will find a traineeship in the Salaam (Peace) Program. This program is State Department endorsed, as is the Peace Corps, and serves to promote intercultural understanding between the West and the Arab world. I will head either to Cairo, Egypt, Dubai, United Arab Emirates, or some other large North African city, and will serve as an ambassador from America, perhaps working in an NGO such as UNICEF.
• Or perhaps, I will take these few months' time to focus back onto my love for Argentina, and Spanish, knowing that I am oh so close to fluency and oh so nostalgic for Buenos Aires (through an AIESEC traineeship, or classes and volunteer work).
• When all this is said and done, approximately three years from today, I will return to America. I plan to pursue higher education, and to study in a strong Foreign Service or International Relations program, perhaps at Georgetown or Yale University. With a Master's degree, and fluency in French, Arabic, and Spanish, I hope to work my way into the State Department. Then, I will head back out abroad to serve and represent my country!

The question is not so much where will I be professionally, but who I will be. Good old me, strong-willed yet probably still torn in all directions by the desire to do everything, be everyone, to speak a dozen languages, and to be north, south, east and west all at the same time. I assume I'll remain a bohemian at the roots, but will I, can I, still be a lover of the jet-set life, someone who has been afforded the luxury of comfort, safety, happiness...and options? Someone who always wants her cake and eats it too? Someone who admits to having indulged in abundance, as do so many across the world who are far removed from the needs and struggles of the billions of less fortunate? Perhaps my weakness for luxorious travel will be subdued by many new walks of life in the developing world, and first-hand encounters with those whose options are restricted, realizing just how little it takes to improve another's living conditions. I can imagine how it is now, but until it shakes my very foundations, how can I truly know?

As Jack Kerouac put it, “I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop." Maybe, in the end, being many fragments of different things is the most enriching adventure of all.

HALLOWEEN 2006

A mod "Parisian", Brasilian Tree, and Polish Madonna painted the town blood red on Halloween! We crashed the parade, and ran down the streets taking pictures and posing!

Oh no!

Lots of madness on the Upper East Side streets as I write this. The building next to my old apartment building got hit by a private plane a few hours ago. My first New York apartment is on the 37th floor of the tower to the right, with the clock...It was an exquisite view, although I suppose you'd think otherwise on such a rainy and tragic day.

Harlem Renaissance

Hollywood is stationed at my doorstep filming 'American Gangsters'. Russell Crowe and Denzel Washington are chilling on my block. The coolest part, however, are the props: antique cars, hundreds of extras walking around in 1970's costumes, fruit stands, phone booths, and even fake restaurants. I walk out my doorstep into the twilight zone, and I've made sure to capture the views.

Here you get just a glimpse of the past couple of weeks' madness on my block. The church behind the antique taxi and bus is the very one where Venezuela's Hugo Chavez came last week. Meanwhile, I was up three blocks receiving peoples' reactions at the congressional office where I now work. I won't go into too many details on my internship, but I will say that the Congressman and the rest of his staff are a delight to work with. I have gained unique insight into the U.S. political process, particularly as it plays out on the district level.

My suspicions have been verified: I'm destined to write. That's one of the main things I do at the office, and being in the center of it all invigorates me. I could see myself globetrotting sometime real soon, chasing the biggest political events around the world, taking photos, documenting the human condition and the many disruptions of the quotidian which shape it.

Lately, I'm too busy to even update this blog. When I have spare time like tonight, it's after twelve hours of work, and my mind is nothing but a dilapidated mass of twitching nerves...yawn...

Alarming statistics on HIV rate

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In New York City, Approximately 1 in 70 are infected with HIV, but the proportion of people in different groups who are infected varies widely:
1 in 40 African Americans.
1 in 25 men living in Manhattan.
1 in 12 black men age 40-49 years.
1 in 10 men who have sex with men.
1 in 8 injection drug users.
1 in 5 black men age 40-49 in Manhattan.
1 in 4 men who have sex with men in Chelsea.

The epidemic is increasingly affecting women, who now constitute a third of new AIDS cases – up from 1 in 10 at the start of the epidemic. More than 80% of new AIDS diagnoses and deaths are among African Americans and Hispanics. Black men in New York City are 6 times more likely to die of AIDS than white men; black women are 9 times more likely to die of AIDS than white women. Hispanic men and women are 4 times more likely to die of AIDS than white men and women.

(taken from the website of the New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene)

no cheating!

For those of you who haven't already figured it out, I'll be in Argentina! Also, I've added a couple of photos from a recent visit to Neslihan's...Sila is just adorable!

I bought my ticket to.......

...can you figure it out?
I'll be living here this August.
No cheaters!

NON L'AMOUR N'EST PAS MORT

Voici mon poème préféré depuis la jeunesse, écrit par Robert Desnos...

Non, l'amour n'est pas mort en ce coeur et ces yeux et cette bouche qui proclamait ses funérailles commencées.
Écoutez, j'en ai assez du pittoresque et des couleurs et du charme.
J'aime l'amour, sa tendresse et sa cruauté.
Mon amour n'a qu'un seul nom, qu'une seule forme.
Tout passe. Des bouches se collent à cette bouche.
Mon amour n'a qu'un nom, qu'une forme.
Et si quelque jour tu t'en souviens
Ô toi, forme et nom de mon amour,
Un jour sur la mer entre l'Amérique et l'Europe,
À l'heure où le rayon final du soleil se réverbère sur la surface ondulée des vagues, ou bien
une nuit d'orage sous un arbre dans la campagne, ou dans une rapide automobile,
Un matin de printemps boulevard Malesherbes,
Un jour de pluie,
À l'aube avant de te coucher,
Dis-toi, je l'ordonne à ton fantôme familier, que je fus seul à t'aimer davantage et qu'il est dommage que tu ne l'aies pas connu.
Dis-toi qu'il ne faut pas regretter les choses: Ronsard avant moi et Baudelaire ont chanté le regret des vieilles et des mortes qui méprisèrent le plus pur amour,
Toi, quand tu seras morte,
Tu seras belle et toujours désirable.
Je serai mort déjà, enclos tout entier en ton corps immortel, en ton image étonnante présente
à jamais parmi les merveilles perpétuelles de la vie et de l'éternité, mais si je vis
Ta voix et son accent, ton regard et ses rayons,
L'odeur de toi et celle de tes cheveux et beaucoup d'autres choses encore vivront en moi,
En moi qui ne suis ni Ronsard ni Baudelaire,
Moi qui suis Robert Desnos et qui, pour t'avoir connue et aimée,
Les vaux bien.
Moi qui suis Robert Desnos, pour t'aimer
Et qui ne veux pas attacher d'autre réputation à ma mémoire sur la terre méprisable.

(Taken from Carmel Beach, California, 2005)

globetrotting withdrawal

More photos from my cousin's wedding weekend in DC (...pictures are scarce because let's face it, Spring Break this year didn't involve Paris, the French Riviera or Italy...). But my brother and I do look rather sophisticated, especially with the backdrop of that dessert buffet from the Watergate Hotel (chocolate fountains galore). The next morning my sister and our friend Brandi went to a Mediterranean restaurant in the city, Zaytinya, now one of my favorites...how I adore mezzes.



I'm not too upset I don't have any jet-setting photos from 2006 yet. In August, it'll happen. I've come down to a few options, once I work this summer and make some moolah:

• A focus on the Strait of Gibraltar: a Spanish border city in the South, two weeks intensive Spanish and lots of Flamenco dancing, followed by a quick ferry over to Morocco for a two week Arabic course in Fez.
• Buenos Aires...but it'll be cool in summer! Valencia, Spain, or of course there's always Bar-th-elona!
• A full month throughout Morocco focusing on research for a Fulbright Scholarship or my potential Peace Corps plan to aid female entrepreneurs in creating business plans.
• A month of advanced French courses in Saint-Tropez or Marseille to refresh and perfect my French skills and possibly obtain the French government DELF exam.
• A month of intensive Arabic in Dubai, United Arab Emirates.

siblings

Photos of my brother, sister and I on a wedding weekend in Washington DC. I really can't help but love that city.

new york photos

Above is a view of the city from pier 92 at the Armory Show (on the water, and quite a collection of interesting art galleries from LA to New York to London to Paris to Tel Aviv to Seoul). Ugie's visiting me from DC and I made sure to take her to the lovely restaurant where I used to work.

The Biggest Snowstorm of All Time

The 26.9 inches of snow proved to be breathtaking in Harlem among the backdrop of brownstones and churches.  My friend is wondering how we'll dig up his car...

Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters. Throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.
Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen.

-by Mary Schmich-