Things I Learned in O'Hare

- Domestic security is faster than International.

- I liked their immigration - I didn't have to explain why I am studying theater in the Middle East.

- But weather is stupid. As is rescheduling.

- The only thing open 24/7 is Starbucks.

- Terminal 1 is a cold terminal for napping. 2 is much warmer.

- United customer service doesn't open until 4:30AM.

- Being there right when customer service opens means that you can get an earlier flight.

- Thinking you will see you mom, and your dogs, and that you will sleep in your own bed, only to have to sleep in an airport because of a flight cancellation, is a horrible feeling. Especially after being away for 3.5 months in a foreign country.

- After traveling for 14 hours, crying, and sleeping on the floor, your eyelids get weirdly puffy. 

- You have to buy Wi-Fi here.

- The chairs are only slightly more comfortable than the floor for sleeping.

- Travel sheets are amazing. What is even more amazing is that for some reason I had it in my carry-on luggage. 

- You can be simultaneously exhausted and awake.

- Bacon and Bagels are really really good after traveling. 

Home in 6 hours. 

<3

Abu Dhabi

Abu Dhabi is not an easy place to be, for me.

It is urban, something I am not used to.

There is dust and concrete everywhere.

No matter how long you are there, you know you are still an outsider. Someone who kind of fits into the city, but not really.

But then there is Sama Tower, and the NYUAD community -  a place where I fit.

Where 3AM conversations are the best, and manaeesh and juice runs make your day.

Where the work is hard, but your friends are always there for you.

Abu Dhabi is hard. It hurts to be there.

But now, once I have left Sama tower for a year away, I realized it also hurts to leave.

Goodbyes are hard. I am happily leaving Abu Dhabi for a year, to find some space to breathe, but I do so with a heavy heart, because I will miss the place to some extent, and I will definitely miss the people.

But new adventures await.

<3

Writing

Writing isn't an easy thing. It doesn't just happen.

Inspiration just happens - that is the easy part.

Words have meaning because we give them meaning. Look at them objectively, and they are just marks on a page.  

The hard part is setting pen to paper, opening the laptop.

The hard part is when you begin to wrestle with every word, every connotation, every sound - trying to create something that says something. That means something.

It feels as though you are wrestling with the past/present/future all at once.

Like you are wrestling an archangel.

<3

The Things I Carry

The semester is winding down, which means, once again, I am packing my life into two suitcases.

This time, I will be packing for a year away for Abu Dhabi - for a year in Ghana, in New York, at home.

Some things stay constant when I pack - small things, but things that have emotional and personal value.

The title of this post refers to the novel The Things They Carried, a war novel consisting of short stories. The namesake story talks about what the soldiers carry, what reminds them of home, what holds meaning.

As I figure out what will be staying in Abu Dhabi, and what will be traveling on, I thought I would compose my own list of the things I carry.

- A marble.
- 2 coins.
- A set of Islamic prayer beads.
- Letters.
- A ring.
- Pictures.
- Small statues.
- Notebooks, primarily composition books.
- A flag.
- My tattoo.
- Memories.
- Certain books.
- History.
- Love.
- A frame.
- Stories.

<3

Hobbit Feels

So I just got back from watching the Hobbit. It was a pretty good movie.

I expected the CGI, the fantasy, the violence (though I was more sensitive to that than normally), but what I did not expect were the feelings about home.

First, you take the setting - places of trees, and snow, and stars. Non-existant here.

Then you add in this (paraphrased) conversation:

You are travelers. You don't have a home. You don't belong anywhere.

Which basically sums up NYUAD in a moment.

Then you jump to the end of the movie, where Bilbo says he is helping the Dwarves reclaim their home because they don't have one anymore.

Glad I am heading back to Vermont in 2 days. To a home.

<3

Standards of Beauty

The other day I was walking around in Abu Dhabi, going to Sama, from DTC.

That is probably my most commonly trod path, other than the one from Sama to Al Safa.

And as I was walking, I saw a father also walking, with his two children, a young boy, and a young girl.

The boy had on the typical "going to school" clothes here - nice pants, and a decent shirt.

The girl had on the typical "going to school" clothes on as well - a dress, with a schoolbag.

Aside from the gendered nature of the clothes, the two looked like siblings - except for one thing.

The girl had something that looked like talcum powder on her face - to make her look whiter.

It isn't the first time I have encountered this - when I have visited India I saw similar practices, and I am sure I could go to any country in the world where the population has a naturally darker tone and see this.

Talcum powder on little girls. Whitening creams for women.

Spray tanning on little girls. Real tanning, and bronzer, for women.

It isn't just that some people want to look whiter because they associate that with positive attributes. It is that in the same turn, some people want to look darker - not because of any perceived positive attributes, because I believe that racism, and race associations, is still a huge problem, but because of a standard of beauty.

Some cultures: Whiteness is beautiful. Others, pigment is beautiful.

And I think it all boils down to the idea that humans want to be what we're not - thinking it will be better, more beautiful - when it really isn't.

"The grass is always greener on the other side" - except they are saying that too.

I like to think I reject these standards of beauty, especially for ones too young to even realize the implications of whitening. It makes me sick to my stomach when I see girls forced into societies image of what they should be - whiter, more tan, skinnier - instead of what they just intrinisically are.

I wish acceptance of self was taught instead of modification.

But we're humans - we're flawed - we want to be more - be something we aren't.

<3

Spoken Word

I live a life where being home for 17 days is considered a blessing - considered a lot - more than last year - considering the friends that you want to catch up with, the family to hug, your dogs, who freak out when they hear the Skype noise, because it means they hear your voice, and that makes you want to cry, because they don't understand why you aren't there.

Hell, there are times that you don't understand why you aren't there - when big events happen, good or bad, and you find out time zones away. When all you need is to talk to your mom, but it is daytime there, and she is at work. Or it is 3AM there, and she is asleep.

Yet despite that, your feet still move. Your soles pound the earth, and you wander - to learn. To experience. To fail. To think.

One adventure is being put on pause, as I leave yet another family behind. This time, though, instead of leaving them in trees and snow, I leave them to sand and starless nights.

I'm happy to be studying away - I really am. I need time away from this space. But the prospect of leaving has been pushed to the back of my mind, avoided, for so long, that now, when I go home, leave this place, in a time much less than two weeks, I am nostalgic. And sad. And wanting to hold on to this community - but you can't always old on, because you have to let go, and breathe, and move. Just now, you are doing all of that without the ever-present safety net of friends.

Doing all of that without the familiar. Without the comfort.

But, as I was told during my Marhaba week (which seems so long ago, but it has been 2 years since I started this adventure of a lifetime during Candidate Weekend) to this strange, wonderful, and often befuddling-in-the-best-possible-way university, 'there is no growth in comfort.'

And so as I begin my travels to home, to Ghana, back home for a mere 48 hours (hours I am so grateful for), then to New York, I am ready to start stepping away from the safety net, away from the nest, of NYUAD, and begin to walk to a solo drummer. 

Though in doing so, I know my friends, my family, are doing the same, and that 'if I just reach out, I'm not alone.' When I reach out, I will find another person reaching out as well.

So Sama, consider this an early farewell, as I sit in this purple-gray chair, remembering again how unique of a place I have chosen - or rather, has chosen me - becuase someone, somewhere composed this school, this community, in a way that just works.

(Though there are moments where we get frustrated with each other, as family does)

<3

It Feels like "Winter" Here

It's been raining here. And not just Abu Dhabi rain (small sets of droplets), but real rain.

It is overcast today. I would even call the weather cool.

I have been watching Christmas movies, wearing flannel, making hot chocolate and mac n' cheese.

These days feel like fall days at home.

Days to snuggle up with a blanket and watch movies.

Days you keep the lights lower just because that feels warmer. 

Days that turn to nights where you look at the stars, and look at the past.

Mornings where the sun flames in all of its glory, casting light over low-lying clouds.

Days where work just doesn't want to be done, because everything is so comfortable, and so warm.

Fall days that you know will eventually turn to winter days, with woodsmoke and snow.

Home soon. Snow soon. But for now, Abu Dhabi is obliging with some rare weather.

<3

Thankful

Ah, another holiday far away from home.

This time, it's one focused around family, friends, and food - Thanksgiving.

I wasn't really sure what I was going to do, aside from being homesick.

Instead, I was with friends, as we cooked a full Thanksgiving meal using 3 ovens on various floors of the dorm - turkey, potatoes, stuffing, pie, rolls, and cider, cooking while thinking of home, family, and listening to Christmas music.

(Sidenote: Thanksgiving was a day of friendship, not a prelude to war.)

I have so much to be thankful for in this place, with these people. Sitting around a table, with friends from all over, many of them celebrating their first Thanksgiving, reminiscing and just enjoying the time away from work, and enjoying time with each other, it feels like home, even though the weather looks the same as August, and the temperature has cooled down from 100F to something more like 80F.

I am happy that our floor smells like a home-cooked meal, and that I had a reason to wear my corduroys.

Wherever you are in the world, have a Happy Thanksgiving.

<3

Responses

Ideal Situation:
UAE Immigration Officer: This is your passport?
Me: Yes.
UAE: It doesn't look like you.
Me: It is my passport. It's an old photo. I cut my hair.
UAE: (Smiles and stamps passport)

Actual Situation:
This is a much longer conversation, and involves mention of how my name is mis-transliterated on my visa, and how, since all of my photos in my passport are either a low-quality visa photo, or an old one where my hair is long, there is question of if I am who I say I am.

US Immigration Officer: What were you doing in the Middle East?
Me: Going to school. I attend New York University Abu Dhabi.
US: Hm. What are you studying?
Me: Theater.
US: Why?
Me: Because theater is a newer art form in the UAE - we can experiment and create new theatrical paradigms, and draw on the material of a new environment to make work.
US: (Smiles and stamps passport)

Actual Situation:
In reality, I am much less coherant because I am getting off a 15-hour flight and just want to go home. Again, a much longer conversation, while I try to explain about NYUAD, and theater.

Stamps in my passport: US, UAE, Canada, Nepal, Oman, India, Ghana.

<3

Image: Nepal

Durbar Square Entrance

Wanderings

Fragments

Prayer Wheels

Rooftop View of Kathmandu

Released to the Universe

Ancient Temple

Glimpse of Life

Ascetic

Wall Shrine

<3

Image: India

Bus

Rama, Jatayu, and Sita

Wall

Tayyam Dancers

Elephant Carriers

Remains of Offerings

Street View

Street View 2

<3

Image: Oman

Dhow Tree

Exposed Beach

Sidestreet

Mountain House

Looking Forward

Boats & Nets

Muscat Moment

Sunset

Contemplation

<3

Image: UAE

The Grand Mosque

Street View

Buildings

Travel

Street View 2

Room for Rent

Remnants of National Day

Construction

Tradition

Tradition 2

Speeding By

<3

Freak Street: Observations of Nepal

(a.k.a. redemption for last year's Eid, and proof that I can plan and execute a trip without having to resort to sleeping on a beach)

Why Freak Street? Because that was the name of the street I stayed on, where all the hippie tourists first migrated too. Also, because there are as many observations and thoughts about my fellow travelers as there are about the culture and place I went to.

NEPAL, DAY 1

Flights are so much better when they are in late morning/early afternoon. Saw NYUAD people at the airport, but beyond that and the flight back, I ran into no one during my week in Nepal.

Driving in Nepal is interesting. On the left side of the road, chaotic, in old, rickety cars. Made my way to Durbar Square, a historical district where my hotel was near. Pretty good so far, right? Then my poor sense of direction kicked in - I chose to ignore the map that I had, and instead find my hotel by asking and using my memory. Wandered the square for a while, with all of my stuff, (actually, it was just a backpack!), and then found my hotel - the Himalayan Guest House, a wonderful homey house - the room was very small, but clean - it was a nice week spent there.

Nepal feels safe. I don't stand out there. There are other white women with short hair. In my wandering, I found temples and markets. I also acquired water, food, and toilet paper. A good first afternoon.

DAY 2

I forgot that it might be cold here. I knew the culture of Nepal is similar in many regards to India, and so I thought the temperature range would be close to South India. Wrong. Nepal houses Mt. Everest. It was fall chilly there. Which was nice. It was just ironic, because I consciously left my sweatshirt in Abu Dhabi.

Began to wander. I didn't really have a set plan for the week - I had a few places I really wanted to go, around a temple a day, but other than that, I left myself a lot of freedom and room.

I found haircut equality! More on that here.

There were some hard moments in Nepal. The first occurred on this day. There was a woman, with a young child and an empty bottle. And you want to help. You wish you could help, that they are being honest and truthful, but you never know, which is horrible that that cynicism has permeated my mind.

Rickety car #2 to the Swayambhu Temple, aka the Monkey Temple.

Sidenote: I am not the most comfortable about wild monkeys. They are much too human-like, strong, and intelligent. I give them as wide a berth as possible.

There are 365 steps to the top of the temple, to the stupa. The top of the temple houses prayer wheels, metal wheels filled with scrolls of Om, spun clockwise to release energy into the sky.

I was solo-traveling this trip, and I am glad I did. I kept finding moments of stillness and quiet within myself and my surroundings.

Had lunch on a rooftop cafe, overlooking Kathmandu and hawks spiraling.

This place was strange - both a tourist center and holy place in one. The top of the stairs was cluttered with shops and salesmen. It is also a holy place, but it seems as though that holiness is getting overtaken by consumption, at least until you take time to explore the back areas of the temple, when you find the true monastery, the old prayer flags, carvings of the gods.

Nepal confused me. I went as a tourist, but was confused as to all of the expats I saw - how do they live? What do they do for fulfillment? I realized on this trip that I love travel, but that if I stay in a place for a long time, I need to create as well, to interact as well.

Moment: There was a man playing guitar on the steps up to the stupa, case open for donations. It reminded me of a man outside of Al Safa playing the accordion. I only saw them each for one day. A moment of their life, a sliver, and I know both nothing and something about them.

I also felt pretty Eat, Pray, Love during aspects of this trip. I found my haunts for restaurants, tried new dishes, took time to slow down, breathe, and think. Meals are both lonely and freeing. Lonely, because it felt like I lost all conversational skills beyond the basic. Freeing, because things are on my terms. For example, I think I had fresh lemon soda (lemon juice and soda water) at nearly every meal. It was also nice to not be super-nervous about food - generally pretty safe.

First power outage happened today - but most people have some sort of generators, so it didn't really change my days at all, except for a moment to appreciate power and electricity.

DAY 3

This day was hard. I didn't take my camera, and I went down to the Bagmati River. Day 3 in glimpses:

- a small boy, preschool age, begging on the side of the street

- a dog, caught between two shores, standing guard

- crossing streets with those who live there

- disconnected wires hanging from electrical lines

- the scent of human decay. no smell of flame, just decay

- ramshackle roots along the river, steeped in trash

- a woman breastfeeding her child along the same river

- a shared smile with a policewoman

- a temple, sacred space of some sort, disheveled, guarded by fiercely grotesque griffins

- a stronger smell of decay. logs

- ascetics walking, alone, unwhole, in yellow, beads, and a walking stick. do they give up human company along with worldly possessions?

- impatient with a cab drive for no good reason. who am I to expect English? I'm sorry

- this quote "Once more, the mists were rising as I walked away. If they discoloesed to me, as I suspect they did, that I should not come back, and that Biddy was quite right, all I can say is - they were quite right too". Great Expectations. In a way we are all Pip, promising to visit home, to stay in touch, and failing at that. And yet, when we do return home, we are welcomed with open arms and love - a love, at least I, feel unworthy of at times. And so we work harder to stay connected, because we have to fight for those connections.

- worked on The Laramie Project. Solid hours of pre-production work.

- had dinner with a woman from the Czech Republic. She knows no English, I know no Czech. Yet still, we shared smiles and gestures.

DAY 4

I went out of my way to find a small Kali temple - one still holy, not tourist. Kali is the goddess of time, destruction, theater. A quiet personal moment to make an offering. Shiva, Kali, and Ganesha guarded the doorframe.

Wandered, found a small multi-faith temple a ways behind Durbar Square.

More difficult moments. Young girls, boys, women, asking for money. I will also not use the rickshaws pulled by bicycles. By people. I understand it is a living, but I am not superior.

DAY 5

Today I went to two temples - one Buddhist, one Hindu.

The Bouddhanath Temple, according to legend, houses remains of the Buddha. Again, this was a crossroads of tourism and faith, but the contrast is less jarring here - there are parts still held sacred.

Whenever I see the Buddha eyes, all I can think of is the phrase/book title, "Their Eyes Were Watching God".

Walking around the stupa, I was struck by how this was a path holy men have trod for years. I received a blessing by a Tibetan monk, and made offerings of incense. Background noise of drums and prayers.

The second temple - a Hindu holy site. The smell of burning bodies. No photos. Green smoke. Tourists. More on that here

It took me 2 hours to get back to my hotel, because I used my cab money on the entrance fee to this site. Which was worth it - I spent so much time walking and exploring and thinking there.

Visited the Kumari House, the house of the living goddess. Again, I am torn about this. I respect the tradition, but I just wonder what happens to the girl once she bleeds/is injured, and the spirit of the goddess is no longer seen to be embodied in her.

DAY 6

Today I packed, checked out of the hotel, and wandered Durbar Square, getting a traditional Nepalese thali for lunch.

My shoes have died - they have lasted for years, but are slowly getting destroyed by travel and dust and rocks.

Got to the airport fine, checked in, and went to the guest lounge, because I could. I had a moment there - I got misty-eyed about how lucky I am, how grateful I am for the life I have, where I can travel to a new place, experience a new culture, learn, grow, explore.

There is a lot that I don't understand. But those questions fuel my thoughts and work.

<3

Haircut Equality

I wear my hair short. By many societies social gendered standards, it is as short as typically worn by males.

Upkeep of this haircut (which I love and feel 100% comfortable in), is problematic in a Middle Eastern country.

If I go to traditionally female salons, they want to make my haircut more feminine than I want - they like leaving the area around the ears long, and the back layer long, creating an unfortunate baby mullet.

I cannot go to traditionally male salons because of the distance required between men and women in this country.

I have attempted to solve this problem by having my roommate cut my hair - so the back was getting really long, but I could still spike it in the front.

Then, I went to Nepal.

I was wandering the first day, and stumbled upon a small, unisex, hole-in-the-wall barbershop.

It was wonderful. They didn't give me weird looks, didn't act like it was strange for my hair to be as it was, or to be in that shop. Even though there was a major language barrier, I got an amazing haircut by an old Nepali man.

I found more hair equality there than in Nepal - they didn't try to pretend that it was anything other than it was - a stereotypically male haircut on a female body. I even got a neck shave and head massage.

My hair looks damn good. It was a great start to my trip - I discovered that haircut equality does exist.

<3

Respect

These posts are coming a bit out of order, as I begin to process my Nepal trip/thoughts/pictures.

There was one moment in Nepal where I went to the Pashupatinath Temple, a world heritage site, and a still-used Hindu pilgrimage.

I know that in the Hindu faith, bodies are cremated soon after death, to release earthly sins and begin the cycle of life again. What I didn't know was that this was the temple where that cremation happens. One side for the rich, one side for the poor, holy men and babies buried, purification in the Bagmati River.

I knew there was a chance that I could stumble upon this type of ceremony and direct confrontation with death and life during my time in Nepal.

What I wasn't prepared for were the tourists.

Shorts-wearing, fanny-pack touting tourists carrying cameras. Taking pictures of the cremation. Of death rites.

I got really angry at them - because that is not ok. I understand it is new, it is interesting, it is something different than what we are used to for death rites. But what if it were there family? Their ceremony? It was strange enough that we were there, as outsiders, but to then take pictures? To trivialize it to a Kodak moment?

Show some respect. Think when you take photos - think if it were your life, your family. I was traveling as a tourist - not as a journalist. My role was an observer, not an invader.

I also think people were using their camera to distance themselves from what was happening in front of their eyes - a marriage of life and death. They were using the lens as a safety net.

Things I think about when I travel, and when I try so desperately to see everyone as individual, as human, as like me.

<3

An Artist is Never Poor

I watched a film called Babette's Feast for a course called Discovery and Recognition. It was slow to start, though it made me distantly nostalgic for my roots in Sweden.

However, one of the lines that stuck out to me was, "An artist is never poor."

And my interpretation and reaction to that line is rather telling, I think.

I believe it. Because I think there is more than one kind of wealth - not just physical, but spiritual, emotional, and creative as well.

I have been thinking about my role as an artist in the world, and what I am willing to do, to put up with, in order to give a creative energy to the universe.

I am willing to work other jobs, if it means I can create. I don't need to be materially wealthy, if I am creatively, spiritually, and emotionally fulfilled.

I am not saying that this is an easy path - I tend to go for a challenge though.

And as an artist, I will never be poor.

<3

A Distant College

Something happens when you go to a college far away from the home you grew up in, and it is opposite what I, at least, expected.

As I have moved farther away in location and time, I am more drawn to the mythology of the place where I grew up. More drawn to the nostalgia of it.

I miss leaves, as I did last year. The crisp note in the air, as I missed last year.

But looking back, I know it will be years before I live in a place like that again. Which makes my visits even more precious, but also makes me view them as a visitor. And that makes me think of where I want to end up, what I want to do, what I want my life to look like.

Whatever your path after high school, it forces you to grow up, to begin to find your way. College halfway around the world just puts that growth in fast-forward.

<3

That Doesn't Happen Here.

Disclaimer: This is going to be a more serious post.

Last year, midway through second semester, there was a murder in the town  that I am from.

My first reaction was, "This doesn't happen here." I mean, it is a small town in Vermont, in a rural place. Everyone knows everyone, I live on a dirt road, off of another dirt road, my town itself doesn't even have a high school, nor is it on most maps, and so towns blend together - my official town is different from where the murder happened, but that town is where my friends are, where I drove to school, is actually only 7-10 minutes away by car.

But as soon as I began saying, "That doesn't happen here", it becomes obvious that that is a fallacy of logic - it happened here, so it must be a place where those things happen. 

Which you don't want to think about. Because whenever I think of the area of Vermont that I am from, I think of the people, the kindness, the trees, the lakes, the sky, the stars - not the ugly parts of the place. Not the drugs, or the hate, or the violence. 

This murder was, and is, really difficult for me to process and understand - partially because I was not with my community when it happened - as I kept getting sporadic updates from Facebook and Google searches, there was no one to be scared with. No one to mourn with. No one here knew this woman, who was my physics teacher, who always had a kind word, was always willing to explain, who had us make boats out of cardboard and duct tape, catapults out of mousetraps. Who had a two-year-old son who witnessed the killing - I was isolated away from my community, from the community that was desperately trying to cope, heal, understand, and remember the positive - work off of the idea that "Love Wins". 

As a person who believes that theater matters, and can help heal, this event and my reaction to it held an undercurrent in my artistic conversations, and, in what later turns out to be an important connection, my school was putting on a production of The Laramie Project, a documentary theater piece written around a hate crime in Laramie, Wyoming. The play suddenly took on so many new meanings having to do with the aftermath of a crime in a community, the ideas of violence, the elusive possibility of healing, and also the ideas of outsiders, the media, and how they add violence, scrutiny, to situations.

So when this summer, I had a conversation with a professor about maybe directing a production, or a staged reading, of a show in Abu Dhabi in the fall, Laramie jumped to mind. 

And so I am working to use theater as a tool for knowledge, healing, and understanding, while also stumbling into the world of directing, and finding my path in theater - because of a tragic event, and this passage:

"And it was so good to be with people who felt like shit. I kept feeling like I don't deserve to feel this bad, you know? And someone got up there and said, "C'mon, guys, let's show the world that Laramie is not this kind of a town." but it is that kind of a town. If it wasn't this kind of a town, why did this happen here? I mean, you know what I mean, like -- that's a lie. Because it happened here. so how could it not be a town where this kind of thing happens? Like, that's just totally -- like, looking at an Escher painting and getting all confused, like, it's just totally like circular logic like how can you even say that? And we have to mourn this and we have to be sad that we live in a town, a state, a country where shit like this happens. And I'm not going to step away from that and say, "We need to show the world this didn't happen." I mean, these are people trying to distance themselves from this crime. And we need to own this crime. I feel. Everyone needs to own it. We are like this. We ARE like this. WE are LIKE this." - Tectonic Theater Project, The Laramie Project

<3

Concert Culture

A few nights ago there was a concert for a series/event called Beats on the Beach.

It was Akon. Which was strange enough in Abu Dhabi. I felt bad for him - the crowd is not what he is used to - not very loud or enthusiastic, and he didn't handle the new location as well as he could - mentioning multiple times the ghetto, repeatedly reminding the crowd that he wasn't going to do the explicit versions of his songs (which almost could have gone as said), and it was a strange mix of older expats, college kids, and immigrants.

But then you add in the concert culture.

So many people were filming the concert with their phones - not watching/experiencing the concert, but instead seeing it through a pixelated screen. Distancing themselves.

It was almost as though they couldn't enjoy the concert without recording it, without saving it, holding onto moments that are meant to live in memory.

This isn't just in concerts, though that is fairly obvious when someone is sitting on another shoulders holding up an iPad to document.

We are becoming extensions of screens, of digital preservation, and I am wary as to the implications of that.

<3

Holidays at NYUAD

Today is Halloween, a holiday primarily celebrated in the US and Canada (at least with what I traditionally consider Halloween), and again, our dining hall is decked out in cobwebs, spiders, and gourds masquerading as pumpkins.

It is fairly over-the-top.

But it's also really nice, because it reminds me of home.

The fact that the dining hall had turkey reminded me that it is fall at home - that time is moving.

Things can feel stagnant here. These reminders of home really help. I think that is why, for all major holidays, regardless of culture, the dining hall works to decorate and alter the menu to include things from our homes - it helps us remember where we come from.

<3

Awkward

I have an aversion to improv.

I also try to avoid situations that put me in the center of attention, as well as anything that is too embarrassing.

Yet for some reason, I agreed to be in a contest called So You Know You Can't Dance.

Which was basically an improv dance face-off where you don't know the song beforehand, and you attempt to be as awkward as possible.

It was awkward, to say the least. But also really fun.

And although I did not make it past the first round (my competitor made it to semi-finals!), I have glow-in-the-dark stars.

They will make up for the lack of visible stars in the sky here.

Yay awkward dancing! 

<3

 

Beautifully Flawed

The other day during a tech rehearsal for A Dream Play, this song was being sung:

And a strange, but remarkable, thing happened. While they were singing, I could see the actors, who are becoming like family, as whole, and beautifully flawed, human beings.

I could see past struggles, and the beauty inherent in that, and humanness.

I don't think we see that often. And I wonder if it is because we are moving too fast, and not really seeing people - instead we witness them as their functions, or let an initial judgment color everything, or we see them as they were, or as their adjectives. Not as complete beings.

Our eyes are clouded, dusty. And it's in the moments when they clear that we truly see. Those moments stick, and become important, even if they emerge out of the most mundane.

I am trying to see in a clearer way. In a more open, and honest, way.

A way that shows truths of humans. One of which I knew intellectually, but didn't see, didn't know in my heart, until yesterday, where, in and for an instant, my eyes were clear.

We are flawed. But beautifully so.

<3

Theater Major Survival Tips

But really, I mean tech week survival tips. I am one of the assistant directors for the professional production that is in Abu Dhabi this fall, and we move into tech this next week.

Before that craziness starts, here are some of the tips and tricks I have accumulated.

#1. Figure out a system that works for you, notes/script/notebook wise. For me:

      Notebook - a marble composition book for ideas/personal notes/to-do-list/etc

      Script - a ring binder, with sleeves for images on the front and back, divided into scenes with sticky notes. Because I am a lefty, for this production I decided to experiment with a 'left-handed script'. It is working really well. Basically, I flip the binder upside down, so that the pages turn from left to right, as in Arabic (Arabic writing from right-to-left was one of the few things from that class that really clicked with me). This makes it so I can take notes quickly without the rings getting in the way, as they would if the script were the 'right' way.

(see what I did there?)

#2. Food and Caffeine

      Tech week means late nights. There is a perilous balance between not enough caffeine and too much. Find it, and keep it.

      I am trying something I like to call 'Tech Week Gorp'

Sidenote: Gorp stands for 'good old raisins and peanuts

      'Tech Week Gorp' will include things like crasins, mixed nuts, dried pineapple, cracker bits, and whatever else I have to throw in. This gorp was made possible by a well-placed care package from my mom.

#3. Sleep. This will be compromised. Try to plan ahead to minimize the long/all nighters, work wise.

#4. Enjoy the chaos. Tech is where the magic of a piece starts to shine through - all the pieces fall into place, and the moments of beauty and creation shine through. 

#5. Appreciate your stage manager, director, collaborators, actors, everyone involved. Enough said.

<3

Heat Theory

I have a theory about drivers in the UAE and the heat.

As the weather cools down, the chances of a driver stoping and waving you across at a free right turn increases.

Since the heat is less stifling, everyone is happier and more patient, and therefore more apt to stop and let you cross the street.

<3

Dourmet Adventures

Dorm + Gourmet (alternately spelled dormet)

Something I really miss from home is cooking together and then eating with family and friends.

Sama dining hall is great, but sometimes you just need a home-cooked meal that does not contain Indian spices.

Because there was no rehearsal this weekend, I had some free time to cook and see friends.

Last week we cooked for my birthday (wonderful hodgepodge pasta), last night I went to play board games and cook with Vermonters and friends, today I hung out with the French-speakers (for the record, I don't speak French. I am not the best at languages) while they baked, and just now I crafted an amazing grilled cheese (apple, caramelized apple, and camembert) inspired from this newly-discovered blog: http://www.grilledcheesesocial.com/.

Important sidenote: Whatever spellcheck is on this platform accepted "Vermonters" as a legitimate word.

There is something about cooking for yourself and with others that just feels like home, no matter where you are, or what cuisine is being cooked.

Recipes connect us to the past, to people, to the act of creating, in a way I often forget as a student on a meal plan. It is also very adult-like.

This year I am cooking more for myself, thanks to the purchase of a small frying pan.

Though if I am being honest about my cooking, I am mainly making grilled cheese, drinking fresh ginger tea, and continuing my love affair with brie.

<3

Progress

Buildings here are considered 'old' if they have been standing for 10 years.

Always being torn down and replaced with buildings of pink glass, reflections, and ornately carved walls.

The concrete history is being torn down for the sake of progress.

But there is a beauty to the 'old' buildings that stand in the city, a nostalgia.

Something that calls to the past, the history, the creative mind, the crafter.

The new buildings call to modernity. Sleekness. Efficiency.

Towers that rise so high it is as though they are trying to touch the clouds, but fail to do so, because people are bound to the earth.

We cannot forget that connection to the ground, to the earth. The one embodied in the buildings of the past.

<3

Visiting v. Living

You can visit a place very easily.

But it is much harder to live somewhere.

To feel like you belong in the place, to feel like you are going back to a home and not a tower.

It takes time to live in a place, and it is usually the little things that create a living space, not a visiting space.

Things like making tea, and late night conversations with friends, and exploring the parts of the city that are unknown.

I will never understand this place. But I think I am beginning to live in it, versus visiting it.

<3

Typewriters

Something we are trying to procure for a theater piece is a typewriter. As a stand in, I and another apprentice made one out of a box, duct tape, and a marker.

(A project I was super happy to work on because I miss creating things)

But anyways. The making of this typewriter had us talking about typewriters, and how we still loved them, because you need to take time and care with the words - there is none of this backspacing business.

There is also a physicality to the typewriter that is missing with a computer - on the scale of human to robot, handwriting is the most human, computers most robotics, but typewriters fall on the human side of center.

There is an art to each word, a rhythm.

<3

A New Decade

So I'm 20 now. Not a teenager.

And that is really strange, that intellectual knowledge.

Usually, when people my age turn 20, they think about how much they haven't accomplished, all the things they should have done by now

(And typically, here, those lists include things like starting NGO's, making a scientific discovery, or solving the hunger crisis)

BUT

I think I have actually accomplished a lot for my 20 years, and as I enter my 3rd decade (thanks, mom, for that reminder), I know I have places to go and people to see, but I have come a long way.

For one, I am in a university which allows me to explore the world, and interact with many beyond my own borders, and that is invaluable. Because of that, I will need a new passport before my old one expires.

I have amazing family and friends who are some of the most supportive and loving people that I know.

I am starting to figure out myself as an artist, a theater maker.

And I know I am still young, and still figuring things out, and still have an amazing amount of naivety and faith towards the goodness of people, but I have also been through some flames and come out stronger for it.

I am entering my 3rd decade in a state of healing, growth, hope, and confidence. I am excited for the prospects this decade offers.

<3

I'm Not Lost, I Just Need a Place to Start

A difference between rehearsal and performance is that in rehearsal you remember what you did on stage.

After a performance, you remember the feel of the stage, the lights, and the few faces in the audience you picked out. You know you did the show, like you did in rehearsal, but differently, because the energy of a room is so different when people fill the seats. But you don't remember the little moments of being on stage itself, actually saying the words, doing the actions.

I think that connects to theater as a medium - it lives in memory, in impression, and that can't just apply to the witness, because theater is connected to community.

It also has to do with adrenaline. Which was running pretty high the other night.

RealAD was such an amazing experience. I became really close with people I barely knew at the beginning of the summer, confronted my aversion to improv, remembered that trust should come before assumed distrust, worked on my writing, and helped to build a show with an amazing group of collaborators. A show that I truly believe made a difference. Even if just for one person, (though I think it was many many more than that), it was worth it. It made me a stronger, more articulate, and more caring person. I am so thankful for that.

Anyways. In the last two weeks I spent 80 hours in our rehearsal space. Now that the show is over, I have a bit more time on my hands to catch up with work, catch up with friends, and catch my breath in this city that is both strange and beautiful.

I forgot that when you get mail here, you really shouldn't open it at DTC, because you are more homesick than you realize. 

My new obsession is ginger tea.

<3

Sophomore Year, Day 1

For some reason, I am not super jetlagged, which is nice.

My class schedule is also nice, with classes that are already inspiring with awesome professors.

First day back was good - I woke up early, made tea, went to class, reviewed the RealAD show, made grilled cheese, read Aristotle, and had the first meeting for the fall production.

Updates here will be a bit shorter/sparse these first 2 weeks, because I am working on two shows right now.

<3

Headphones

Again, a pair of giant headphones from Al Safa is one of my best back-to-school purchases.

<3

And We Go

I am (almost) all settled back into Sama Tower, ready to begin my sophomore year.

The trip here was fairly uneventful - we made our flight with a 3 hour layover in O'Hare, a feat I was impressed with. There was some turbulence, but the most noteworthy part of the flight was the flight attendant.

Who thought I was under 18. I guess my enthusiastic smile led her to believe I was a minor traveling alone.

Jet lag is present, but not too bad. I watched Project Runway at 1AM, and got some sleep. Breakfast was wonderful this morning.

I had the brilliant idea of taking to Lit cores the same semester. Result? 27 books. Which isn't the most I've heard of.

Even though our shower is the same size as last year (our room is basically a reflection of last year's), it seems to have shrunk.

Also, I have a planner. Good times.

<3 

Bonfires and Bacon

Tomorrow I head back to Abu Dhabi for my sophomore year.

The past few weeks have been really nice. I caught up with friends and family that I haven't seen in a while, and slept in as much as possible.

Highlights:

• Bonfires
• Bacon
• Playing wingding
• Seeing family and friends who I rarely see
• Going to Bread and Puppet - this was awesome
• Having awesome theater conversations
• Exploring beaches and rivers
• Driving with the music blaring
• Going to my mother-daughter bookclub
• Managing to pack my bags 30lbs underweight (my master plan of leaving weight and space in my bags worked!)
• Getting my Etihad silver card the day before I fly out

<3

First Sign of Autumn

One of the major things I miss being at school in Abu Dhabi is autumn in Vermont. Simply put, it is beautiful.

The other day when I was driving a single red leaf floated in front of the car. I will still miss the mountains aflame, but it is something.

The first breath of fall.

<3

New Name, New Look

Hello lovely readers!

As you may have noticed, the blog has a new name and new design.

This blog has morphed from just a record of my time in Abu Dhabi to a blog about all of my travels, so I thought this change was fitting.

Welcome!

<3

P.S. All the old posts are here, so this is more of a redesign than a re-do.

Home Depot

Ah, more reverse culture shock.

Although, considering I spend more time each year outside of the US, I am technically an expat. So I have adopted many cultures as my own.

None confuse me more than the US.

I was never intimidated/freaked out by big box stores before spending time abroad. But now a NYC Trader Joe's was almost overwhelming after shopping for a year in small stores like Al Safa.

Home Depot the other day was more foreign than it had ever been.

We were looking to get ideas for new carpet. What I failed to comprehend was why there were so many choices, many of which were the same color. The same color with illogical names such as "Peace" and "Copyeditor".

It was overwhelming and confusing, and another reminder that the notion of 'home' and 'home culture' is transitory and multilayered.

<3

Cooking

One of the reasons I love being home is my ability to cook things.

Things I have made so far:

Sauteed peaches
Grilled brie and carmelized onion sandwich
English muffin pizza
Homemade mac n' cheese

Something I am planning to start for this blog is a series of recipe posts - both the 'real' cooking I do at home, and the dormet cooking that is done at school.

Look for the first set of recipes in the next few days!

<3

Things that Might Make Responsible People Cringe Vol. 4

I have henna'd my hair before, and it turned out to be a lovely copper/red/brown. When I dyed it, I used a Rainbow Henna mix that had other herbs in it to tome down the orange/red factor.

I underestimated how important those other herbs were. Today, I tried dying my hair with pure henna, mixed with coffee and lemon juice (coffee to help push it darker, lemon to help activate the henna).

My hair is a lovely shade of orange right now - thankfully darker than when I first washed the dye out. Then it was a scary clown orange. It is starting to deepen, as henna does, to a more red-orange-brown.

Hopefully it will darken more overnight, otherwise I will layer a mixed henna over it to darken/help the brown notes.

But for now, I have orange-red, short, faux-hawked hair.

<3

Changing

I have just over two weeks until I return to NYUAD for my sophomore year.

Just enough time to relax, reconnect, and reflect on the past year.

My friends say that I have changed - and I knew that, because I don't think you can be away from home, being independant, for a year without changing. My question to their comments is always - "I think I've changed - but what I want to know is if it is a good change"

And I think so. My friends, those who know me best, and who have known me with all of my ups and downs, say that I am calmer than they have seen me. My energy is more relaxed. I am happier.

Adjusting to college was hard - with classes comes independence, distance from home, a new beginning.

As I get ready to start my second year of school, I am excited, like I was last year.

But this is an excitement that holds the knowledge of the challenges I have faced, and those I will face again, and the knowledge that I am one step closer to conquering them.

I am ready for school to start - ready to read, study, perform the RealAD show (so pumped!!!), to intern, learn, grow, and change.

I won't pretend I have everything figured out - quite the opposite. But I am ready (and excited) to keep exploring.

<3

Glory Stories

I missed Pennsic this year because of the schedules of my internships. Because of that, I missed seeing many of my friends who are like family.

So I am going to take a walk down memory lane and recap my own "glory story" from the fighting last year, Pennsic XL, last year's event, the first time I fought heavy list alongside my brothers-in-arms.

It was the woods battle. Unlike woods battles at smaller events, this was my favorite fight of the war. The bridge battles were fun as well, and I realized for sure that I do not like field battles.

Anyways, back to the woods.

It was midway through the battle. The Eastern Army (made up in part by the unit I was fighting with, the Militia), had stalled the Midrealm. I was on spear, a few lines back, ready to fall in when needed.

I made my way to the 2nd line, when Sir Gareth, a knight in our household, saw me and nodded for me to fill in a spot on the front line.

At this very moment, the Midrealm Army decided to charge. I was in the front line, holding off the Midrealm. I was killed, but we held off their charge, and the Eastern Army won the battle.

Another not-so-glorious story of last year was the squeaky golf cart. I had signed up to do a watch shift with one of my friends, and whenever we hit the accelerator on the golf cart, a sound like a dying squirrel was emitted and it took a good 3 seconds for the cart to start moving.

Basically this is a reminiscing post, and a hope that I will be back to Pennsic sooner rather than later.

<3

NY Week 9 & 10

The last two weeks in NY were hectic, but in the best possible way. I am home now, and so here is the recap of my final two weeks (for now) in NYC.

Week 9: I got sick this week. It wasn't fun. I actually had to miss a day of work (though not rehearsal).

But on the weekend I went and saw a play that one of the Theater Mitu company members was acting in - an adaptation on the '60's movie Persona. The acting was really strong, and the storyline/script had a lot of intriguing points regarding masks, art, and identity.

Week 10: There was a wrap-up meeting where people shared moments of their summer. I was reminded once again what an amazing community I am a part of.

Went to a workshop on the play Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo with the author, Rajiv Joseph. It was interesting to see how the play sounded while being read by an ensemble cast with a mix of accents and genders. This workshop and the prep of reading the play was the first introduction I had to this author, and I like his style.

I got more comfy pants. They are wonderful. And the guy at the market remembered me, so I got a discount without having to barter.

My breakfasts all week were Jamba Juice - they had a 'Happy Hour' every morning.

We also presented the RealAD show to the admin, and to the NY Reality Show cast (who I love). I am so proud of the work we did this summer. We came together as a cast, and I think we have a show which will make an impact and help the freshman out, which is the whole point.

Goodbyes were hard, but they were also more like 'See-you-laters'.

I am happy to be home now, and seeing friends, but I am also getting excited to go back to Abu Dhabi.

<3

My Room is an Anechoic Chamber

I forgot how loud the silence is here.

All my ears pick up are my heartbeat, and my breaths.

The silence is so strong it is like a singing bowl is being played.

I cannot see my hand in front of my face.

My senses are so used to the lights and sounds of the city that their adjustment is slow.

But once I fall asleep, my sleep is that of a traveler returning to the warm embrace of home.

<3

NY Week 7

This week was definitely an adventure.

One of my friends from high school drove into the city to visit, but due to the traffic and weather, I ended up directing her to the dorm at 2AM. We then went out and got gummy bears, almost pulled an all-nighter, and then decided that would be a bad idea. Bed at 5, up at 9.

I also bought groceries this week! Switched from my meal plan to a stipend, and so felt like an adult as I got my food for a week. Peanut butter and jelly is oddly comforting in the city.

The feelings of adult-ness carried over as I saw my face in a mirror. You know how you look in the mirror and see who you've been, who you always see? Well I saw me, but a me that is growing up, moving towards becoming an adult.

S'mac's birthday was this week. Which meant amazing $1 mac n' cheese. Enough said.

I discovered this game server called Steam. My friend had Binding of Isaac on his computer, and the day I happened to look on the website it was on sale for less than $2. I have played this game way too much.

Saw Newsies. It was fun, but still Broadway. I have become disillusioned and cynical - as soon as the first set piece moved, before the first song, I was reminded that this is a spectacle. A fun spectacle, but a spectacle nonetheless.

Contrasted with the powerful work that Theater Mitu is embarking on right now, it is hard to see Broadway as anything other than pure entertainment, with no weight or impact behind it.

And then to end the week, my mom came down to the city to visit. I took her out to dinner, and she got to meet some of my friends, and one of my professors. Some people wouldn't be excited about this, but my mom sees so little of my day to day life I was excited for her to meet the people I spend my time with.

Week 8 is technically not in NY - it is in NJ, and VT. There probably won't be a formal post about those travels, but more sporadic ideas.

Here for a bit, then back to NYC.

<3

Who Needs a Neti Pot When You Have the Ocean?

Also, who needs fancy exfoliating scrubs when you have the beach?

There was rain as well. But not normal rain, where there is a cloud overhead, a simple case of cause-and-effect. Instead, this rain just happened.

A gull was trying to fly forward but couldn't because the wind was keeping him immobile in flight. Philosophical thoughts might emerge from this. But I am on vacation.

I think I fell asleep at one point in my beach chair.

<3

Reverse Culture Shock in NJ

I have always had a perspective on suburbs - I don't understand them. Driving down a street, seeing identical houses lined up always reminds me of A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle:

"Below them the town was laid out in harsh angular patterns. The houses in the outskirts were all exactly alike, small square boxes painted gray. Each had a small, rectangular plot of lawn in front, with a straight line of dull-looking flowers edging the path to the door. Meg had a feeling that if she could count the flowers there would be exactly the same number for each house. In front of all the houses children were playing. Some were skipping rope, some were bounding balls. Meg felt vaguely that something was wrong with their play... As the skipping rope hit the pavement, so did the ball. As the rope curved over the head of the jumping child, the child with the ball caught the ball. Down came the ropes. Down came the balls. Over and over again. Up. Down. All in rhythm. All identical. Like the houses. Like the paths. Like the flowers." (pg. 98-99)

Fun fact: A Wrinkle in Time was first published in 1962. 

This passage has stuck with me through the years.

It speaks to some of the fears I have, the same that stir when I see an office filled with cubicles. 

Suburbs have always been unsettling to me, (I don't know exactly why, it has something to do with the passage above, and the fact that I am a country girl). That unease/confusion is stronger now.

I see the huge houses and wonder how one family can fill them.

I go to the grocery store and am overwhelmed by the choices and the lights. 

I see family for the first time, and am beginning to see some of the ways I have changed through their eyes. 

I think this is what they call reverse culture shock. 

<3

Coming Home

I am not a fan of all of his writing, but in this paragraph, Mark Manson speaks the truth on traveling and coming home. 

"Which I guess is what the paradox resolves into: a devaluing of superficial pleasures and a greater appreciation for simple, authentic ones. I don’t really enjoy the presents at Christmas anymore, the fireworks at fourth of July, or even the parties on New Year’s Eve. I’ve seen bigger parties, been to more beautiful places, and already own everything I’ll ever want in this life. But unlike before, I appreciate every day spent with those who mean a lot to me. A quiet [soda] on a patio. Watching a basketball game together. Going to a birthday party or a barbecue. These are the events I look forward to now and get excited about, days and weeks ahead of time… And that’s probably the way it should be." http://postmasculine.com/international-lifestyle

<3

NY Week 4, 5, & 6

So again, I am a bit behind on my blog. But I am in the city that never sleeps, which then means that I am busy.

Week 4: Rehearsals are still going on, and going well.

For my other internship Cleo and I went way uptown to pick up costumes, and then brought them down to the Brooklyn storage space. This was made into an adventure due to the fact we didn't read the website well enough, and so showed up after storage was closed, which meant another trip.

Palladium has a lot of fire drills/alarms. The one this week caused me to be walking around NYC in my plaid pj pants and a plaid shirt. The plaids did not match.

2 of my aunts came down this weekend, so it was nice to catch up with them.

I had to ask tourists where Times Square was in order to find them. It shows I am living an anti-tourist lifestyle. Ask me to find a whole in the wall restaurant - can do. Times Square? Not so much. We also went to South Street Seaport and a boat circle around part of the island.

Week 5: It was the 4th of July. Yay! I edited and submitted my Government and Religion paper. Which ended up being 27-pages long. I am now done with that class.

I also went to the Met. Went to go see the Islamic art exhibit, ended up in the Modern Art section, and saw the Buddhism on the Silk Road statues. You can spend a whole week getting lost in that place.

And of course, rehearsal and internship stuff.

Week 6: The Week of Theater!

I went and saw Sleep No More on Monday. It is a really interesting concept - there is a building renovated to be like an old hotel, and you explore as you are following different characters in a loose adaptation of Macbeth. I thought there were moments that were really strong and powerful, but at times there were just too many people in an area.

Wednesday I went to see Fuerza Bruta. Which was brilliant - vibrant, intense, a beautiful aesthetic, engaging, and interactive. Go see it. We went to rush tickets 45 minutes before the show opened on a Wednesday, and we had no problems getting tickets. Go. Again, awesome moments, and an awesome experience. It's a show I would see again. Although due to the staging and visuals, it is a mix of performance, dance, and theater.

I don't want to write much here about either show, because I think they are best experienced with fresh eyes and not much previous knowledge.

Also this week was frantic prep for a workshop Theater Mitu is hosting. Amazingly, we got everything done that we needed too.

Adventures happened at the end of the week, but it is technically Week 7. So y'all will have to wait until next week to hear about them.

<3