The Voyage of Self-Discovery, Part II

Tuesday afternoon found me in St. Paul, at Louise’s apartment, with nothing to do. The reason for this was not that there was nothing to do, but simply that Louise was at work, and I did not have the energy to go exploring on my own. My time in St. Paul was fun, though it was a shame that Louise had to work as much as she did. I wanted to spend more time with her, but since she is moving to France in the fall to teach English, she needs all the money she can get. I would not force her to ask for time off because of me. In any case, I had a good time. We went to Books and Bars, which is a fantastic idea of a book club combined with alcohol; what could be better?! They read a book each month then meet at a bar to discuss it. It was really fun even though I hadn’t read the book. After that was the mid night show of Harry Potter 6, which I, surprisingly, enjoyed immensely (my opinions on the Harry Potter movies could take up an entire new blog); I especially love seeing all the high schoolers get all dressed up, though it makes me feel really old. Louise showed me Macalester and we got sandwiches to eat by the river. We walked around the Minneapolis Institute of Art and saw the big cherry spoon at the sculpture garden. It was great to hang out with her, since, like Katie, I had rarely seen her since Christmas break. But on Friday, after dinner, I headed out to Mounds View for the final part of my road trip.

The event was fantastic, and if I can manage to go again next year, I will. It was definitely smaller than I was expecting, but I think that made it better, since the teachers were a bit more forced to focus on you. I was incredibly nervous; this was my very first swing event where I didn’t know anyone. In the past, any event I had gone to was also attended by at least two or three other Obies, but here, it was only me. I shouldn’t have worried though, since everyone there was incredibly nice and welcoming. At least two people came up to me on the first night, asking if I was out of town, and oh, where are you from? How did you hear about us? It was great. It was also nicer than expected to go back to an empty hotel room, but myself, after the dances were over. I feel like I was finally as courageous as I’d always imagined myself to be, going to this event alone. And that was definitely a good thing, since a lot of this trip was about finding stuff out about myself.

I drove home on Monday, stopping Monday night in Chicago with Katie. It was uneventful, which was fine by me. I made it home Tuesday without incident, in good time. I guess I did figure some things out on this trip, though they were mainly things that I need to work on, like my patience and my impulse, but I guess it’s a start. I know what I need to work on now, and am doing my best to do so. I hope to be a better, more grounded person when I get to Concord in the fall, so hopefully my time in Thailand is somewhat productive.

The Voyage of Self-Discovery, Part I

I guess my summer, up until a few weeks ago, was pretty boring, since, after I came home from Oberlin, I wasn't working. I mainly sat around the house all day trying to muster the will to get to the gym.

I had heard about the Twin Cities Balboa Festival at All Bal (which had been the highlight of my summer so far), and harbored a desire to go, but was unsure of whether this could become a reality or not. The Twin Cities are awfully far from Cincinnati, and to just drive up for the weekend seemed a bit excessive. However, luck would have it that my two best friends lived in convenient visiting-points along the way; Katie lived in Chicago and Louise lived in St. Paul itself. A plan was forming slowly in my mind: I could drive to Chicago, visit Katie for a few days, then drive to St. Paul, and visit Louise for a few days, then go to the Festival. It would be perfect! Now the question was: Did I have enough money? I fretted over this for a while before deciding that I did have enough, and even if the trip cleaned out my checking account, I was about to be a salaried teacher in the fall, wasn't I? Another motivating factor was the fact that I really needed to get out of Cincinnati. Due to a weird sequence of events, I’d been presented with some information about myself that I was not particularly proud of, and really wanted to get out of the house in order to figure things out; about myself, about this weird situation, about life. So, I decided to road trip. It worked out even more beautifully since my good friends from Cincinnati, also from high school, would be coming to Chicago for the weekend as well. So we headed north for a weekend of shopping and clubbing in Chicago.

I’d never been out clubbing like that before, and it was a bit of a shock to realize that I was expected to talk to and flirt with guys I didn’t know. I guess that’s how things work in the real world, and so far my experience was limited to Oberlin, where we had house parties and I almost always knew at least half the people in the room. I managed to convince Katie that I didn’t want to flirt with any guys; I just wanted to dance in the safe cocoon of our friends. Thankfully, she allowed me to remain inconspicuous, and I had a great time jumping around with my friends. My friends from home left for Cincinnati on Sunday morning, while I was planning to head out on Monday. Katie and I spent Sunday quietly, sleeping in then drinking coffee at Starbucks while we read and chatted. It was really nice and relaxing; I want to spend all my Sundays like that.

Monday morning I was off again, this time to Appleton, Wisconsin, to visit my favorite set of twins ever, whom I had met at Oberlin while teaching swing dancing. I made good time, and Laura and I had a wonderful lunch, after which she showed me around downtown Appleton. We went back to her house and just hung out and talked until her two sisters, one twin, Stephanie, one older, Catherine, returned from work, after which we had dinner then rented a movie. It was a wonderfully simple evening, but really fun. I love those girls and had a really good time hanging out with them.

To be Continued…

Graduation, etc.

I guess a post about graduation is, by this point, long over due. Over a month ago, I graduated from Oberlin College with Honors in Latin. The whole day- and the week leading up to it- were nothing if not surreal and almost fake. All of Senior Week, all I could think of was, "This might be the last time I eat at Black River, This might be the last time I walk to the gym," etc, etc. I felt like everything we did during Senior Week was incredibly forced- we all felt like we had to have the most fun and have the most outrageous time that week, and I ended up having very little fun. I can hardly party hard one night a week, let alone 7. And in addition to all this forced-fun, little arguments got blown out of proportion, everyone seemed to be mad at everyone else, and my housemates and I finally concluded that the administration keeps all the Seniors an extra week to make us all hate each other so we can't wait to leave. All this was a bit depressing, since I had started to become resentful toward the place that had been my home for the past four years. However, somehow I managed to get through it all- parents, my housemates families, packing- and finally graduate. It was a beautiful day, the speakers were all very good, even if the commencement speech was a bit of a downer. And that was it. I wish I could say that I felt some immense difference after I was handed my diploma, but in all honesty, I was just glad it was over, and was preparing to deal with the incredibly stressful aftermath. Swarms of family and friends descended upon us; I can't remember being more overwhelmed by people. But the ceremony was over; it was time to get ready to go home.

As I packed up my car after lunch, I kept waiting. Waiting to feel different, waiting to realize that I was never coming back, waiting to burst into tears. But it never happened. I teared up a bit when I said goodbye to some friends, but I would be seeing most of them again, whether over the summer or once I moved to Boston. As I said goodbye to my housemates, I knew I would see them all again, so again, it did not seem like a sad moment in which an era ends. I simply got in the car and drove away, as if it was the end to any other school year. I did cry a bit on the way home, but not much, and I have to say, I have yet to feel extremely sad. I am excited and ready to enter the "real world," and though I will miss Oberlin, I have to admit that I was ready to leave.

Perhaps I'll feel differently in the fall, when I am in Boston instead, but that remains to be seen.

Saying good -bye

I thought that I would feel different after I turned in my last exam on Saturday, free and happy, but I felt the same; anxious over my exam and wondering what I wanted to do with the rest of my day. I wondered to myself, "I'm done with college now; shouldn't I feel different? Where's that dramatic shift in my life?" I guess it didn't really hit me until yesterday, when I had to say goodbye to a close friend, one whom I don't know when I'll ever see again. It hit me hard when I walked into his room and saw that everything had been packed away. The room was bare and I though, "Oh my god, in about a week my room will look like this too. This is really happening; he's really leaving and I really have to say goodbye." We sat and talked and listened to music, joked about summer plans and discussed his plans for his semester abroad. But finally the moment came when he had to go meet other friends. He hugged me and all I could think of was "No, don't leave me," when in fact it is I who am leaving. I will be moving out and into the world, leaving behind this wonderful place I have come to call home. He was the first of many people that I will have to say good-bye to, the first of many whom I may never see again. As I walked home holding back tears, I couldn't help but think about my past four years here. I walked past all the buildings I had ever taken classes in, the library where I spent more than enough time, the lawns where we would lie out in the sun. As excited as I am to move on to a new phase in my life, I'm not really sure if I'm ready to leave this one behind. I love Oberlin, and all the people I've met here. I will miss almost everything about life here and am terrified of having to move to a new place and start over. I'm terrified of losing contact with those I really care about- everyone is so busy all the time, will I truly keep in touch? But I guess that's just a part of growing up- packing up and moving on, holding on to the things-and people-that really matter.

Its amazing how emotions can just run wild when something huge like college comes to an end. No one really seems to know what to do with themselves, so everyone just goes crazy. Classes just ended this past Friday, and though there is still a week of finals and two weeks till graduation, I still feel like I am going crazy. I don't know how to feel, and I feel everything at once- happy,sad, nervous, excited, depressed, and generally emotional. I don't have much to do by way of finals, so I'll be spending the next two weeks reflecting on my time at Oberlin and probably realizing that this place has meant more to me than any other in my short 22 years of life. I've grown so much here, so much about me has changed. I've made the most wonderful friends who I know I will cherish for the rest of my life. I've learned so much- academic and otherwise-and I feel fully prepared to enter the real world, though as ready as I am, I'm not sure I want to leave. Senior Week and graduation will be wonderful and sad and crazy all mixed into one, and I'm hoping that my friends and I create some memories that are both new and exciting and totally indicative of our time at Oberlin.

A Reflection

As I have mentioned before, this year was my last season of competitive swimming. We just had the end-of-the-year banquet a few days ago, and, since it was my last one, I couldn't help but think about the past 11 years, and what swimming has meant to me during them.

I started when I was 11, I think. I don't remember why, exactly, though the Princeton Aquatic Club was across the street from the Queen City Racket Club where my mom played tennis. I'd been taking swim lessons since I was small (my first flipturn is on tape somewhere), but had never swum competitively before. I still remember my first day of practice- I had to ask how many laps a 100 was! I was so inexperienced, and I was terrified. But, miraculously, I got better. And better. I advanced through the levels quickly, going from bronze to gold in 2 years or so. I loved every single second of it. Swimming became the center of my life. I would come home from school, have a snack, then eagerly sit around, waiting for my mom to be ready to take me to practice. I was always early, and usually the first one in the water. I became close the my teammates, who were from all different schools, and my coaches. I loved those men, and I still believe that they had the some of the greatest impact on my during those years. Wolf (short for Wolfenberg) and Dan- those two men ruled my life. To quote my beloved professor Kirk, when they said "Jump," I said, "How high and into which tree?" They nurtured my swimming and gave me my love for the sport. I got fast- my freshman year of high school, I went a 1:04 in my 100 backstroke; my sophomore year, I went a 1:00.

Then the unthinkable happened. Wolf got married and quit coaching, leaving Dan in charge. I was devastated. Wolf had practically taught me how to swim-it was because of him that I loved swimming so much! How could he just leave me like that?! I definitely saw this as the deepest form of betrayal, especially since I had such high hopes for my junior year. I thought that I couldn't break a minute in my 100 back if he weren't there holding the watch. Somehow, however, I got through the season and looked forward to the Sectional meet. But then I got sick, and went slow, and cursed life but knew I still had one more year.

It was the summer between junior and senior year that Dan got married and left. This was a major blow, since an entirely new coach would be coming in. I was terrified- how would someone who didn't know me at all help me achieve my goals? How could I do anything without Wolf or Dan?? I think that this attitude made me hate Mike from the very beginning, and I am sorry for that now since I feel like we could've come to an understanding if I had been more open. Alas, hindsight is always 20/20. However, hate him I did, and with a fierce intensity that stemmed mostly from my fear of change- change of coaches along with the imminent change of schools that the end of the year would bring. We didn't get along, though I might have still gotten faster if I hadn't fallen down the stairs while babysitting. I sprained my ankle in the worst way, right before high school season officially started. I was out for a month, and even after I was back in the water, my ankle continued to bother me. I was crushed, and, along with several other things, ended up having a fairly terrible senior year, as well as senior season.

I seriously questioned whether I would continue in college. I didn't know if I wanted to swim anymore, because I felt that Mike had made me hate it, along with what I perceived as my failure during senior year. However, Mark Fino, then the assistant coach, reminded me so much of Wolf that I felt compelled to give it a try. I'm forever thankful that I did because I loved every second of my college career. It definitely had its downs, but I feel like I matured so much because of swimming. I had to come to terms with the fact that I would never be as fast as I was my sophomore year in high school, which was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. But I realized that just because I would never break a minute, I could still work hard and have the best fun ever. I've been able to see this team grow from about 10 to 20 girls, and 5 to 15 boys. The girls have gone from never winning a meet to having a winning season. Both sides now beat other teams at the Conference meet. I remember when the girls beat Hiram my sophomore year-the first time we'd beaten someone at Conference. We came in second to last but I don't think anyone cheered as loudly as we did when they announced our name and score. I've made friends whom I know will last me a lifetime, and I am so so grateful for that. And even though it was hard, grueling, painful, and sometimes disappointing, I love swimming with all my heart and I will miss every part of it deeply. As Bryne said to me once, "You know that we don't do this for the numbers on the board. If we did, we would have quit a long time ago." And it's true, we did it because we loved it.

Translation

Last week, I (finally) participated in the annual Translation Symposium that is organized by the Comparative Literature Department. I've always wanted to do this, but always managed to hear about it after the submission deadline. Well, this year I had my act together, submitted a translation, and was picked! I translated a speech of Dido's from book four of the Aeneid. The specific lines are 296-332 if you want to look up the lines, but here is my translation:

But the queen knew something was wrong- who could fool a woman in love? She seemed to know everything, jumping at shadows. Nothing was safe. She heard a terrible rumor that the fleet was being armed and prepared for voyage, which infuriated her. With a broken spirit, and burning with rage, she tore through the whole city, like crazy Bacchants shaking the sacred rattle during the triennial orgies after they have heard the ritual cry, “Bacchus!.” In the night, the mountain Cithaeron lures them away. At last, she confronts Aeneas:

“Traitor! How did you expect to hide such a horrible crime and leave without telling me? Will nothing keep you here? Not our love nor our marriage nor even me? I will die! Why would you try to sail during the stormy winter winds anyway? I mean, if you weren’t trying to find a new home, and if Troy hadn’t been destroyed, would you even be here? Are you running away from me? I am nothing without you! What about these tears? Your left hand? Or our marriage and the ceremonies we just started? Do I deserve nothing good from you? Was nothing of mine sweet to you? I beg you to pity a falling house! Please, I pray, give up this mindset. Don’t you know that because of you all of Africa hates me, and my own people are my enemies? I destroyed my honor for you and my good reputation which would have made me immortal. Why, guest- since that is all you are now- would you want to leave me? I should kill myself now! Or should I just sit around and wait for my brother, Pygmalion, to destroy my city, or for Iarbas to capture and rape me? If only I could have had your child before you abandon me, if only a baby Aeneas would play with me and remind me of you, I would not feel so completely deserted.”

She spoke, and that one could not look at her. He would obey the command of Jove and, though he struggled, pushed his love for her deep into his heart.

I tried to make this a more modern translation, since Dido is just going through something every girl goes through at least once in her life- a terrible break up. Ok, hers is so bad she kills herself, but I think most women can relate to her on some level. I know I can. So I tried to bring that sense of loss, anger and frustration out here while keeping it as modern-sounding as the Latin would allow me.

The Symposium itself was pretty cool. There were about 20 people total reading in a variety of languages and its really amazing what some people came up with. As someone who translates every single day for class, and who mostly translates as literally as possible, it was really fun to sit there and listen to other people's interpretations of their text. All in all, a good experience. :-)