Today in Anthropology our professor wrapped up the class by introducing us to the ideas of reflexivity and of the crisis of representation. As an exercise he had us imagine that we were writing our autobiographies. With this in mind, he told us to come up with the names of the chapters that would be in our book--the "Chapters of Your Life." We shared our chapters with someone we did not know in the class, and then they related our autobiography outline to the class. It was an intense, emotional, almost cathartic exercise. Here's what I came up with:
Chapter 1: Spanglish
-Being an American with Canadian and Argentine heritage
Chapter 2: Fifty-four
-(Approximately) the number of first cousins I have
-Growing up among family members and the way they have shaped my life
Chapter 3: "Are You Amish?"
-As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I often get this question
-Growing up a member of the Mormon church and what it has taught me about perspective and tolerance
Chapter 4: The Other Hemisphere
-Moving to Brazil and coming to understand another way of life
Chapter 5: Ms. Lebiecki
-My fourth grade teacher, who gave me a taste of the thirst for knowledge
-Education at a private international school and how I learned to love learning
Chapter 6: Stoplights
-People coming up to your car window as you're stopped at the light and begging for money
-The poverty I saw in Brazil and how that changed my perspective on materialism
Chapter 7: Toasted Ravioli
-A typical food from the St. Louis area
-Moving to Webster Groves, MO and the battle against myself to accept it
Chapter 8: Turkey Day
-The 102-year-old Thanksgiving game and the oldest high school football rivalry West of the Mississippi
-High School and the traditions of a Midwestern town
Chapter 9: OH-229
-Kenyon College
-My freshman year
Chapter 10: Deja-Vu
-Deciding to transfer to Brigham Young University
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Flee to the Cleve
"If the whole world moved to their favorite vacation spots, then the whole world would live in Hawaii and Italy and Cleveland." -Floyd, 30 Rock Season 1, Episode 20.
Last weekend some friends and I took a little drive up to Cleveland. We left at about 3 o'clock on Friday afternoon, that sleepy time of day where there is a lull in anticipation of the weekend. I stashed the car with my favorite candies: Starburst (original), M&Ms (peanut) and gummy worms (or snakes, actually). The five of us piled into my '96 Toyota Camry and started our two hour trip up OH-13.
We got lost in the first ten minutes. Now, if you know me at all you know that I tend to overreact and worry and panic. A lot. And while driving is one of my favorite pastimes, it is no exception to that rule. I know I have said it before, but I will say it again: RURAL OHIO IS A MAZE. Somehow we made it to Westlake, OH--unscathed for the most part, excepting our patience perhaps.
Waiting for us on the table, that giant wooden table in the kitchen, was my grandmother's delicious taco salad. Just the smell of it wafting through the old house made my mouth water and my heart beat with a nostalgic warmth. And then, to my utmost delight and surprise, my grandma opened the oven to reveal her homemade apple crisp. My initial reaction was to cry. I suppressed my tears of joy by gulping down a class of cranberry-apple juice.
Going to baseball games has been one of my fondest childhood memories of Cleveland. So walking out of the windtunnel and into the stands at the stadium was like stepping into my past. The field glowed neon in the night lights, and the crowd exploded in applause and whistling and shouts of "Chooooooo!" during the game. It also happened to be Dollar Dog Night. So, against my better judgment, I ate a hot dog. AND IT WAS DELICIOUS.
I stayed in my aunt's old room that night. The white carpet, walls, and comforter made me feel like I was laying in a cloud. I looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars and drifted off into a pleasant, fleecy, content sleep.
Last weekend some friends and I took a little drive up to Cleveland. We left at about 3 o'clock on Friday afternoon, that sleepy time of day where there is a lull in anticipation of the weekend. I stashed the car with my favorite candies: Starburst (original), M&Ms (peanut) and gummy worms (or snakes, actually). The five of us piled into my '96 Toyota Camry and started our two hour trip up OH-13.
We got lost in the first ten minutes. Now, if you know me at all you know that I tend to overreact and worry and panic. A lot. And while driving is one of my favorite pastimes, it is no exception to that rule. I know I have said it before, but I will say it again: RURAL OHIO IS A MAZE. Somehow we made it to Westlake, OH--unscathed for the most part, excepting our patience perhaps.
Waiting for us on the table, that giant wooden table in the kitchen, was my grandmother's delicious taco salad. Just the smell of it wafting through the old house made my mouth water and my heart beat with a nostalgic warmth. And then, to my utmost delight and surprise, my grandma opened the oven to reveal her homemade apple crisp. My initial reaction was to cry. I suppressed my tears of joy by gulping down a class of cranberry-apple juice.
Going to baseball games has been one of my fondest childhood memories of Cleveland. So walking out of the windtunnel and into the stands at the stadium was like stepping into my past. The field glowed neon in the night lights, and the crowd exploded in applause and whistling and shouts of "Chooooooo!" during the game. It also happened to be Dollar Dog Night. So, against my better judgment, I ate a hot dog. AND IT WAS DELICIOUS.
I stayed in my aunt's old room that night. The white carpet, walls, and comforter made me feel like I was laying in a cloud. I looked up at the glow-in-the-dark stars and drifted off into a pleasant, fleecy, content sleep.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Sonic
On Thursday I drove to the Columbus airport to pick up a friend. Having a car is possibly one of the most significant conveniences I have experienced this year. And driving is incredibly relaxing for me. As soon as I pull out of the parking lot and get on the open road, everything becomes a blur of soft colors whizzing by my window. It's as if my troubles are the houses and barns and empty fields that, while they may catch my eye for a moment, pass by and out of my line of vision without another thought. Sitting alone in my old Toyota Camry is one of the only times I sing aloud at school. That is probably the most relaxing part of my day.
Driving anywhere from or in rural Ohio is always an adventure. I can never understand the layout of the roads, and for some reason everything is named in numbers. 13, 36, 661, 62, 71... The list goes on. If you are unfamiliar with the intricately woven geography of back streets and interstates, then traveling can be rather treacherous. As we made our way across the almost vacant landscape and down those vein-like roads that lead us through the heartland of America, I couldn't help but notice the tragedy of my unfamiliarity with my home state.
What struck me the most was how the barns, set back against the grey and straw-colored landscape, somehow made red a natural color.
Driving anywhere from or in rural Ohio is always an adventure. I can never understand the layout of the roads, and for some reason everything is named in numbers. 13, 36, 661, 62, 71... The list goes on. If you are unfamiliar with the intricately woven geography of back streets and interstates, then traveling can be rather treacherous. As we made our way across the almost vacant landscape and down those vein-like roads that lead us through the heartland of America, I couldn't help but notice the tragedy of my unfamiliarity with my home state.
What struck me the most was how the barns, set back against the grey and straw-colored landscape, somehow made red a natural color.
On our way back to Gambier, we stopped at a Sonic Drive-In. Pulling up to the menu, I felt summer wash over me. I honestly have no idea how many times I go to Sonic during the months of June, July, and August, but let's just say that it was enough for me to have serious withdrawal symptoms while I'm at school. As I took the first sip of my strawberry limeade chiller, I closed my eyes and breathed in an extraordinarily taste-tantalizing, creamy freshness and smiled.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Snow
Today, it decided to snow.
And by "it" I mean the clouds above Gambier. I guess the snow is just trying to make one last appearance before the curtains close on winter and springtime takes the stage. At least, that's what I'm hoping.
Snow is kind of a new thing for me. I mean, in this quantity. I don't remember much about the winters before I turned six and moved to South America. And we seldom came back to the U.S. in December (because that was when summer started in Brazil!). So when I moved to St. Louis, I was looking forward to the White Christmases that to me characterized the picturesque American holiday season. To my dismay, the snowfalls were few and far between.
This year was different. There was snow on the ground in Gambier from right after Thanksgiving until mid-February when we had a strange stint of sunny, warm days. It snowed the next weekend. And just as I thought I would begin to see the sun consistently and would be able to put my puffy coats and scarves away for the season, I look out the window and a million tiny dip n' dots start falling and sticking to the quiet, damp ground.
I can't wait for April.
And by "it" I mean the clouds above Gambier. I guess the snow is just trying to make one last appearance before the curtains close on winter and springtime takes the stage. At least, that's what I'm hoping.
Snow is kind of a new thing for me. I mean, in this quantity. I don't remember much about the winters before I turned six and moved to South America. And we seldom came back to the U.S. in December (because that was when summer started in Brazil!). So when I moved to St. Louis, I was looking forward to the White Christmases that to me characterized the picturesque American holiday season. To my dismay, the snowfalls were few and far between.
This year was different. There was snow on the ground in Gambier from right after Thanksgiving until mid-February when we had a strange stint of sunny, warm days. It snowed the next weekend. And just as I thought I would begin to see the sun consistently and would be able to put my puffy coats and scarves away for the season, I look out the window and a million tiny dip n' dots start falling and sticking to the quiet, damp ground.
I can't wait for April.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Bem Vindos!
Welcome!
In all honesty, I have absolutely no real good reason for writing a blog. I tend to follow the notion that you should only write something worth reading, and you should only read something that makes you feel that quiet flutter of inspiration. Hopefully some of what I share will be worth it!
A little about myself:
I am eighteen years old and a first-year at Kenyon College in Gambier, OH. Basically, I live in the middle of nowhere. And somehow I love it. Even though I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world--São Paulo--I somehow feel at home among the ancient trees and rolling hills of rural Ohio.
I was named after a song by Bread. Check it out.
I have four little brothers who, despite their many outbursts and quirks, always make my day.
Although I have yet to declare a major, I am thinking either Physics or English. fyi I have trouble making decisions.
Food is one of my greatest passions. I adore reading about, watching, cooking, and eating it. It has made me a bit of a food snob.
Most importantly, I love the English language. And that's what I want to share.
In all honesty, I have absolutely no real good reason for writing a blog. I tend to follow the notion that you should only write something worth reading, and you should only read something that makes you feel that quiet flutter of inspiration. Hopefully some of what I share will be worth it!
A little about myself:
I am eighteen years old and a first-year at Kenyon College in Gambier, OH. Basically, I live in the middle of nowhere. And somehow I love it. Even though I grew up in one of the biggest cities in the world--São Paulo--I somehow feel at home among the ancient trees and rolling hills of rural Ohio.
I was named after a song by Bread. Check it out.
I have four little brothers who, despite their many outbursts and quirks, always make my day.
Although I have yet to declare a major, I am thinking either Physics or English. fyi I have trouble making decisions.
Food is one of my greatest passions. I adore reading about, watching, cooking, and eating it. It has made me a bit of a food snob.
Most importantly, I love the English language. And that's what I want to share.
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