Tag Archives: travel

California Prairie Dress Wearin’

It’s all come to this. The progression of time has brought me to the point where the plane ticket I bought to go to San Francisco is ready to be redeemed and I will sit next to someone hopefully not smelly for a few hours to LA and then someone equally pleasant smelling on the way to San Francisco, the land where dreams come true. Specifically, my dreams. This will be the land where  my dreams come true.

I’m going there for a week to visit some friends and do some future hunting, possibly accosting people on the street, grabbing their collars and saying “GIVE ME A JOB!” And then following them as they try to run away. I’ll be wearing a dress and boots so it’ll be difficult. But I digress.

I’ve never been to the West Coast, and most of my thoughts about it are informed by Hollywood and my conservative grandparents who are worried about the moral decay of America. I imagine it’s somewhere in between heathens roaming the street looking for souls to sway and a land of infinite possibility.  Perhaps the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Oh and I forgot about Full House. Most of what I know about San Francisco in particular comes from watching Full House.

There’s gold in them hills, or so they say, and now it’s my turn to go and get me some. If I don’t come back, it’s because I found my fortune out there. If I do, it’s because my fortune is not yet ripe for the plucking and I need money from my parents.

I even got a new dress for the journey. It was 5 dollars at goodwill. The brand is “California Girls.” It’s floor length and has shoulder pads and a high collar and a fetching print. I can’t wait to blend in on the sidewalks, just a regular prairie girl minglin’ with them city folk.

The next week or so of posts will likely describe a steep descent into culture shock and loss of moral bearings, followed by unlikely growths of hope and self awareness, ending with a reconfirmation of personal identity with added perspective on the entirety of reality. I hope I can deliver.

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I Plead Ignorance

I know nothing

Dear People of the United States,

I do not know what’s going on in Egypt. I was mildly aware of the political environment while I was there only because my friend practically lived in Tahrir Square and I am in a program with people better than I. There was also the occasional article I accidentally read because it was sent directly to my inbox and I clicked the link thinking  it was going to be a funny montage of fuzzy animals, babies, or Republican presidential candidates.

I realize it’s tempting to think I might know something about the political situation, since I just returned from living in Cairo for 6 months. I can see how you might guess I had picked up a newspaper every now and then, engaged in some political activism, or even absent mindedly absorbed the news on television, which would require nothing besides turning the device on and sitting in front of it. But, again, I have to insist that your guesses and assumptions are erroneous, and any attempt to get a short political analysis of the “sitch” will embarrass both me and you. Me, since I will be once again confronted with my staggering political ignorance, and you, since I will decline to admit that openly and tell you something which may prove to be wrong.

Therefore, upon hearing that I have been studying in Egypt, please refrain from asking me, “Are they going to pull themselves together?” or “What’s going on over there?” or “What about the women?” Though your guess to these questions is not as good as mine, both our guesses are equally likely to be wrong.

Worse still, please do not try to talk to me about your own political analyses that you’ve compiled by reading a few articles in the New York Times. The mere fact that you’ve done this will embarrass me and I will be forced to act like I know what you’re talking about. Please don’t make me do this. Your analyses are also likely wrong, but I will be unable to tell you that since I’ve done none of my own research. I might say something like “if 85% of Egyptian people don’t know what’s going on, how am I supposed to?” This statistic is a lie, but it feels right to me considering how much confusion I’ve felt about the situation, and I refuse to stop using it.

I agree with you it’s a shame I don’t know more.  To that end, I’ve resolved to become more informed on Egypt’s internal politics from now on. But that means that I’m a student, just like you, and hate being interrupted when I’m studying. So…if you  have an urgent question about Egyptian politics, if you and Jerry made a bet at the office Christmas party on which presidential candidate was going to be the subject of a smear campaign courtesy of the Supreme Council of Armed Forces, then I recommend you read Al-Masry Al-Youm and Al-Ahram for starters, in addition to the New York Times. If your thirst has not been slaked, you could continue onto read political analysis from Foreign Policy and Jadaliyya.

After reading every article, please send me a short summary, making sure to include the central points and main conclusion. I thank you in advance for helping me educate myself on the country that I’ve been living in. This is, after all, a group effort.

Best,

Emily Drevets

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Home Again. Police Coming Soon.

They made me throw my peanut butter away. You’ll be hearing more about this.

One mad dash in an airport, one jar of forcibly discarded peanut butter, my inaugural first-class experience complete with whisky, five days in a beloved city, three haphazardly finished final projects, a handful of not-so-final goodbyes, and one eager familial greeting at an airport after watching my airplane acquaintance, a man, walk into the women’s bathroom…..and I’m home.

Have I missed Oklahoma? Of course not. I’ve missed the humans that inhabit its suburban sprawls, specifically the ones that populate a small brick structure in an unremarkable town known for its ability to grow children well and then make them to want to leave.

The feeling of home, for me, is a combination of extreme fondness coupled with the intense panic at the thought I might never escape. Escape might seem a strong term to those who find Oklahoma’s tender chicken fried steak more toothsome than even the most succulent Kobe beef. And that’s fine. Here in America we have the sometimes ill-advised freedom to maintain and revel in our ignorance though we risk people on the coasts mocking us for it. I, however, have always needed to get away from Oklahoma, my efforts landing me most recently in Egypt where I have had a most rewarding experience.

Nevertheless, towards the end of the semester, I was looking forward to being in America, where I could walk down the street without turning even one brow, where honking the horn is the exception not the rule, and where there are sidewalks–usable, beautiful, sidewalks. America was once again the promised land, and my home, the most familiar place on earth, was now the object of my yearning.

Despite all this, as soon as I got off the airplane in Oklahoma City I remembered why I had wanted to escape. It’s not because I suddenly recalled how much I resent my dog or the fact my family only got a big screen tv as soon as I had left the country after waiting 18 years to upgrade. It’s not the annoying Central Plains female haircut or the cowboy boots that are as plentiful as Cairo street cats on a garbage pile.

It’s the fact I’m a wanted criminal. Forget all that sentimental mumbo-jumbo. I’m on the run and have been ever since my senior year in high school. After all that crazy revolutionary time in Egypt, I forgot the charges have not been dropped and that police officers with gravy still wet on their whistles will be hot on my tail as soon as I step foot inside my county, which I have already done.

So…thanks for the soup, Ma, and I hope you enjoy the cannolis since I won’t be coming back until some kind of computer virus destroys the record databases, expunging me of all crimes. PEACE!

Note: this is a joke. To my knowledge, I am not a wanted criminal.

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Woah! Snow!

Sometimes, the snow loses its charm

EVERYONE LOOK! THERE’S SNOW FALLING ON MY BLOG! It’s either the magic of the season or the fact I checked the box that said “let snow fall on this blog until January 4th.” Whatever it is, it’s enchanting. The holidays really are coming! Wishes really do come true! Polar bears do love cuddling more than mauling!

Because of these animated snowflakes drifting across my online pastime, I know my homework will somehow be done, though it be of poor quality and turned in late.

Gifts for my family and A-list friends will be purchased, though at the last minute and with the pocket change I’ve spared from my final get togethers with friends at expensive restaurants.

I will survive the next week and a half, though in order to eat I will likely have to borrow money that may or may not be paid back after the break.

And the mosquitoes will die when the sun finally blows up and the earth is burnt to a crisp.

This snow is a continual reminder while I’m looking at my blog that holiday times coincide with cold weather in some parts of the world. It reminds me of the Christmas lights I will be seeing in abundance very soon and the obnoxious old Christmas songs I will once again hear ad nauseam once I reach the United States of America. It is a reminder that nothing is wrong during this time of year, that winter is just beginning and the snow is still a novelty, and that everyone is happy.

Thank you, snow, for doing all you do. I dread January 4th, when you go away from my blog just as people in the Northeast, Upper Midwest, and North-Central plains realize their snowdrifts will not melt until late April. I, however, will be in Egypt, where there will be no snow and no drains in the streets for years to come. I’ll probably be wearing t-shirts and high fiving my friends by early March, laughing at how foolish everyone was to welcome the fluffy precipitation only a few months earlier.

But for now, let me love the snow and look forward to its temporary promise of renewal. Let me imagine the world’s sins covered in a white blanket and Christmas carols. Let me believe in the fable of the perfect Christmas one more time.

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We Are Middle Earth

A mythical building for an imaginary world

Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, I am a nerd. This means that I enjoy learning and fantasy fiction. After I finally read Lord of the Rings in eighth grade, I was hooked: Tolkien’s world seemed more real than my own. My fascination with Middle Earth formed a dangerously large portion of my personality, and I even ended up writing my college admissions essay on why I loved Lord of the Rings. A BU admissions counselor probably read it and thought I would add a unique, socially awkward aspect to the campus environment before being sent to a maximum security federal prison. At any rate, I’m thankful to have been admitted.

As I was considering the relationship of Middle Earth and the War of the Ring to my current experience in Cairo, I found that the characters I’ve met during my Arabic study adventures resemble the different races of creatures in Middle Earth. In order to make my life more comprehensible to the small portion of people out there who read Lord of the Rings annually or biannually and/or watch the films obsessively, I would like to present my findings. To these same people, I politely request that you don’t get your panties in a bunch if the comparisons aren’t perfect. To everyone else, I apologize for alienating you.

The subgroup of Arabic-interested persons that I would classify as hobbits are the average Arabic students. Though slightly dim-witted and occasionally reluctant to expend great effort on reading or writing, they are a tough breed and can surprise you with magnificent feats. These, however, are few and far between. For the most part, these students enjoy simple work, afternoon naps, and hearty meals instead of great Arabic adventures that might cause mental and physical discomfort.

There is a breed of student, however, that does take great pleasure in perusing ancient Arabic texts and spending hours composing non-obligatory essays, short stories, and poems. This species can also converse with you at length about the fascinating differences between dialects and other languages, of which they know many and can learn at great ease. These are the elves, who capture the fascination of most others and would earn their enmity were the elves not above the judgements of lesser beings.

Though hard workers that accomplish when focused, the group I consider the dwarves can be antagonistic towards others who are pursuing the same purpose and show little interest in learning about the culture behind the language they’re studying. These are the people studying Arabic for the money and are just waiting for a knock on their door from a defense contractor, intelligence organization, security consulting firm, or government agency.

The great Arabic scholars of old (and new) who have created linguistic masterpieces for the purpose of aiding those also studying Arabic I would classify as wizards, sent to help lesser beings in the field. Because of the effort of personalities such as Hans Wehr, Frederick Lane, Sayyed Badawi, and Kristen Brustad, who have spent countless hours deciphering this language, the great fight has been made more bearable.

Speaking slowly and clearly while avoiding hastiness or imprecision in language, Arabic teachers are best described as ents. Anyone who has studied a language knows the familiar frustration of leaving the classroom and realizing instantly you have no idea what anyone on the street is saying. Are you even studying the same language? The answer is no, since Arabic teachers actually speak Entish.

As skilled as earmuffs in social interaction and exhibiting no signs of living in a civilized society, the shabbab, or roving masses of teen-aged to mid-thirty year old Egyptian males, would have to be the orcs. Not only can they make foreigners’ stays in Egypt less pleasant, but they don’t even really like each other and internecine fighting is often the cause of much bloodshed and mutual annoyance.

I could go on, but I think this is enough nerding out for now. I’m not promising another LOTR themed post in the future, but it could happen.

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