Ramblings on a theory of justification

I was texting my friend earlier this afternoon and I wrote, "I can't wait to get off this campus and never come back." It was the first time I had truly acknowledge my hatred of OSU. And at the time, it seemed justified. The things I hate about it are the core values that seem to be in mainstream middle to upper-class "American" culture: consumption and size (bigger IS better). The more I thought upon these two things, the more my thoughts snowballed into a "I hate this too...and that...and screw THEM!" The following are an expansion of the reasons of my dislike for OSU and the sequence of thoughts that ensued:

Consumption: Everyone here is branded, myself included (I do pay tuition like the next person). We pay to wear OSU apparel (and are thus branded) and we consume more and more (new shirts for the games, anyone?) We need our coffee daily in to-go cups and little, plastic to-go containers for the meals we buy from the university cafeterias. We need gas, water, and electricity to maintain not only the buildings but also the green spaces on the Campus. We need more computers, more parking spaces, more seats in the stadium*, more food, more paper, more, more, more.
*I put my dislike for the football team under this section because the culture of consumption that surrounds it (like the aforementioned apparel), energy for the stadium, etc...really does fit into this category. One could counter that the culture of machismo should stand on its own- but I really think that the number of people who burn couches or riot after games is relatively small to the number of people that enjoy football as a whole. And I was tempted to say that there seems to be homophobia present within football culture due to football, but once I began to reflect on this opinion, I decided that football itself may be conducive to transmitting homophobia but it is not responsible for it. Homophobia is rampant in all facets of American culture, especially in male-male platonic relationships. It looks more apparent in football culture because of the high concentration of males that enjoy football...and because it is a sport that requires domininance and the display of heteronormative "masculinity;" traits that are unfortunately seen to be the exact reverse of what one might consider a heteronormative woman or gay male to have. In this case, the chicken (homophobia) came before the egg (football/sports).

Size: To begin with, I dislike the campus size because, if I'm going to walk somewhere- I want it to be somewhere I want to walk, not have to walk. The number of students at the university also puts a strain on the resources the university has in place to help said students. I dislike the student financial aid/help structure- true, it is similar to many other universities, but for the size of the university, the financial aid department needs to be much, much larger (and more efficient); happier students equals better alumni donors (for those at OSU who are worried about money), I would suspect...and also means less paperwork and fixing of errors in the end.

Ultimately, I couldn't help but to feel that the relative size of this campus and resources used is like the châteaux in Europe: we don't need to use all this stuff, this space, these resources. We don't. If we didn't have them, we would be fine. The "sprawling lawns" or high ceilings in the Union or the glass windows in the library displaying the stacks are not like penicillin- we wouldn't die without them.

The more I thought, the more I then wondered how I am cuplable of the exact same things. I've heard several times from wise(ish) people that sometimes what you dislike in something or someone, is the exact same qulaity or fault you dislike in yourself. And while I would normally counter that with the statement that most things I dislike in others are things I find obnoxious and disrespectful (things that should come as a no-brainer for any member of the human race-excluding sociopaths) I consume coffee and don't always use a thermos or mug. I use to-go boxes. I drive when I should walk. I've studied in the library between classes). I justify it with "well, I am careful about waste most of the time" or "I don't normally have a car so using this one now isn't that bad" or "the library is the most convenient place for me to go between classes," but at what point does that justification became an absolution and then a valid reason for why you do the things you do? I dislike OSU but I am giving them my money through loans (which I will be paying back for the next couple of years at least), scholarships, and the generosity of my siblings and parents so in a way, while I find these "values" or ways of campus administration disgusting, I am partly guilty because while I didn't set up the systems in place, I am doing no real work at this point to change the aforementioned things. I dislike football, but it is a free country and people should have a right to enjoy anything (within the limits of law and with every participating persons' full consent, i.e. No Girls Gone Wild) that they see fit. If someone has a job they hate, the last thing I want to do is forbid them from enjoying a game of football on the weekends. While I think the sport is boring and generally chauvinistic, who am I to be the moral authority on football for the next person? And I think that some structures are inefficient and need to be enlarged to help students (such as SCSS) but if I'm asking for more people to staff SCSS, aren't I merely contradicting my point about size? More people equals more offices, equals more buildings needed, equals more energy used to build and maintain said buildings. Hmmm...

Now, I am of the firm belief that you can like something and hold it accountable but how do you work with something you dislike altogether yet make use of regularly? How does this look when you must work within "the system," so to speak? Does the end (my degree) justify the means (attending OSU)? I'd like to say going here and being party to all the resources used and all the inefficiency does justify the means, but sometimes, on a day like today, I'm not so sure.

Sorry

it's been awhile...

I'm just decompressing right now...I jokingly call my room the "decompression chamber" but there's a bit of truth to that. Culture shock hasn't really kicked in...well, except for having my hatred of super-fucking-markets re-affirmed (note to readers: I may swear a bit in the blog and if you don't like it then...I don't know what to tell you. Sorry to sound terse but there it is....love you!!) Ugh. So much space and so little need for the HUGE aisles. And open 24 hours?? WHY??? I am guilty of going to Giant Eagle at 3 in the morning but if the store wasn't open then, I would just deal. It's not a matter of life and death whether I get some doughnuts and soda because I'm pulling an all-nighter. I would just have to plan my schedule accordingly.

So...I miss Jerusalem. I miss the smells and colors and sounds of Jerusalem. I miss hearing the call to prayer and the sellers yelling in the market. I miss haggling with shopkeepers and seeing piles of spices. I miss THE GRAFFITI!! Holy crap, the graffiti. (I can't wait to post more pictures for y'all to see.) And then the scarves...so many in such incredible colors. I like the rain here but...I'm used to it. I grew up with it. Arid places make me feel more wild. I don't know how to explain it; it can be draining physically but I feel more alive or more...unfettered in an arid climate. It was that way with Boulder. I came back from the West with fire in my eyes-or so I felt.

I do miss Berne too. It was my favorite European city I visited. I miss the people and scenery and the river (oh my god, the Aare is THE cleanest river I have ever seen) in Berne. I think I miss Jerusalem more because...well, I want to go back but it will be more of a process than just whipping across to Berne. Maybe not, but that's how I'm feeling. Anyways, here's some poetry; I don't have pics to go along with it but c'est la vie, non?

I.
he said
remember you have someone here that loves you.
and she had
tears in her eyes
and then she cried and cried and cried
rivers that would never wash
away the ancient stones of the city.
her heart now knew
what forever
meant.


II.
when she recovered
she found
her body remembered
the good things too.

*Note: I like to write (or rather, I have to write) but I don't think I'm all that (some of the time anyhow) but I love feedback if you have any.

Collection of thoughts, ideas. No sequitors, please.

I don't have many cohesive thoughts and I wanted to post a bunch of pictures... so I decided to start with something I can articulate and post pictures from there.

After a light dinner at an Italian restaurant with the fam today, it was decided that we would grab some beers at a pub. It was around seven or eight and I didn't want to spend the waning daylight hours inside a pub (delicious as the food may be), so I opted to walk around by myself for a bit. I crossed some streets that I recognized and was a little disappointed when I realized I was around a very touristy shopping area. I veered myself off to a side street to take some pictures (the lighting was awesome) and heard opera singing floating down the streets. I walked towards it, and discovered that an opera was playing outside at the Staatsoper (State Opera). In the summer, the opera is projected onto a huge screen so people can sit outside and watch.

It was so incredibly beautiful, it almost hurt. It was the second time on this trip that I really felt I could soak in where I was at one particular moment. For me, that's huge. Staying present, in the moment has always been a struggle for me and I felt so blessed that I was able to feel one moment so acutely. It also made me realize that I'm feeling blue that I leave Wien tomorrow (or today, rather.) Salzburg will rock my world (I hear the train ride there is beautiful) but I really do love this city... and I will miss seeing me family when I leave. There's so much history here but the city also feels really young too. Sigh...I just don't like goodbyes- but then again, who does?

Some of my "awesome lighting" outdoor photos:

Stephansdome (St. Stephen's Cathedral.) This place was incredible inside. We went there before the restaurant and pub.

I LOVE this picture. Blurry photos are always so interesting to me and I'm really pleased with how this one came out.

OK...I should be off to bed. Have a travel day tomorrow and I don't really want to be a a tired wreck...

Not quite at post-surrealism yet...

Getting off the plane in Vienna was so surreal (that's my word of choice for most of this trip.) I couldn't believe I finally made it to Europe. Growing up, I thumbed through the pages of National Geographic and knew that I wanted to spend my life traveling. The little girl I was would point and say "I want to go there, and there, and there...and there." Now, I'm here. And it's...incredible and sad and wonderful and painful and....everything else that is contradictory but also true.

Tyler, my cousin, met me at the subway stop near his place and even carried my uber heavy bag for me. I'm still amazed at his and his girlfriend's generosity towards me, considering I haven't seen him in a couple of years-at least. They took me in, fed me, let me use their computers, and gave me a key to come and go as I please (Tyler even came and rescued me when I got lost trying to find my way to meet up with him!) I am overwhelmed by the incredible people I have in my life right now. It's the best birthday gift I could have. Truly.

Wandering around Vienna yesterday and today, I try to take the city in. I'm kinda in a haze, like I was when I first got to Jerusalem. It's a bit of a culture shock, things here are newer and well, more European (duh, I know) than in the Old City. It's the architecture that I'm most familiar with and what I considered most beautiful when I was growing up. But being here, after being in a city thousands of years old, I feel...strange. Like there is some sort of dissonance between being here and where I just came. I think it's a mild, mild form of culture shock. Don't get me wrong, I love it here. The people all look super put-together, and many girls have short hair- like me! And there are cafes/pubs/bars EVERYWHERE. I'm still processing through so much and I think I'll continue to do so until I get back to the States.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon the Naschtmarkt, a large outdoor market. Walking past the stalls, I caught the smell of spices, (not sure what mixture) and it reminded me of the smells inside the Old City. It was really comforting. I felt so grateful to have found a place that felt safe and familiar. Aaaand, I found out that there's chocolate muesli, "schoko-müsli." It's DELICIOUS (Kate, I finally found you a legit breakfast cereal.) They're no squares (more on this later) but definitely up there.



Clearly, I love schoko-müsli.


Lastly, a poem. (y'all will have to bear with my ee cummings-ness for awhile):

east to west

I am here
(now).
and everything that was, that used to mean some(thing)
has changed.
not to say that it isn't meaningful,
oh no, but somehow the emotions
are lost in translation.
no BABELfish here.
still,
that is to be expected
when one cannot communicate emotions
in a universal language,
no one word, one thought
for love, fear, hate, joy.
only a shifting perception
and the heart
trying to read the lips
of others'
hearts.

Poems from Seven Hours Ahead

Posted thems on facebook but I know not everyone has an account.

Them Rocks

you cannot build
build
buillllld
on people.
you must have rocks.
yes, yes, rocks.
and more rocks.
houses from them rocks.
villages from them houses.
cities from them villages.
and then, of course,
walls from them rocks.
walls between them
cities,
between them
villages,
between them
houses,
between
them
rocks.


The Subject Of

conflict resolution is not
on the agenda today.
Instead we'll be relearning the quadratic equation.
Because, lord knows, after the revolution
numbers will be all we have left.
Numbers and perhaps,
one or two
pieces of broken glass.

here (now)

OK. So I have this NEW blog to detail my travels and whatnot. If ya like it and wanna read it, that's cool. If not, that's cool too. I FINALLY can post pictures so I'll have some up too (of Jerusalem at this point; Europe may be a wee bit trickier.)

So to dive in...

I'm processing so much information/ history/ emotions right now. Things here are intense but really, REALLY good. I love it here. I love the languages, the smells, the colors, the FOOD, the crazy delicious Arabic coffee, THE GRAFFITI!!!!

I love how arid it is...and how there can be desert in one paart of the country and ten minutes later mountains with greenery on the other side.

I love this place. I want to embrace it even more but I feel like there is so much swirling around in my head. It's just....surreal, to say the least.

Anyhow, while I continue processing; I thought I'd share a poem I wrote the first day we arrived. Basically, the graduate student assisting our professor was deatined right when we entered Israel. She had some stamps from Arab countries on her passport and is a Palestinian-American and is married to a Palestinian man. It was my first experience seeing a situation that seemed so unjust...she was detained because she was a "suspicious" person. And to boot, when they finally gave her back her passport and we could leave, she was lectured about not telling them that she was married to a Palestinian, even though she was NEVER ASKED. So here it is:

Detainee

detained

because

shecouldbeasuspiciousperson

and youncanneverbetoocareful.

because of some stamps

on her pass(port).

where her husband was born.

(he'll never be able to visit, by the way.)

the fact that she didn't mention everything-

never mind she wasn't asked.

because of something about her.

unnamed but clearer than water.

because of, well,

youcanneverbetoocareful.

So there's a bit of the swirling mess in my head...maybe not a mess, just- hmmm...the birth of a new solar system way of thinking.