I wish that I had just a few hours to be isolated and forced to sit down and write to my friends afar. I think of everyone I have been meaning to write in the last months: roommates, surrogate family, friends, lovers... and I hope they understand that I am just not good at doing that stuff. Falling behind on these past friends also makes me nervous for the hundreds of friends that I have here. Will I lose contact with them all too?
This week has a pretty solid work load, and I rather wish that I had been able to have a weekend. I will have worked three shifts by the end of the day, which is great for the pocketbook, but not so much for the study habits. Tomorrow: Theo mid-term (essays. yuck) Tuesday: TV critique on Fox's new "Stars without their Makeup." Horrid show really. Spanish exam on Wednesday. And I have to be working on both my Theology and PR projects before I leave for Minneapolis on Friday. Plus campaign work for Alex Hermanny and publicity stuff for the benefit dance. Geez. For the few weeks before Spring Break, I am going to be as busy as any other semester. Time to bring out the daybook again. LOL. This Thurday I was looking all over the place for it, and then realized that it was in my work bag, which meant that I hadnt used it since Monday. Three whole days. I couldnt have gone three whole hours last semester without that book!
I have kinda been postponing calling Rosey about subletting in Renee Row for the summer. I just had this feeling that something would fall in my lap. I told myself I would let the weekend go, and if nothing became apparent I would give her a call. I am just so... not excited about moving out of my place... I guess that I need to just deal... It will be wierd though. I have lived here for three years now. I mean, when I was in Spain, I missed my apartment more than I missed my Dad's place in Michigan.
Well it is time to eat something and get to the studying. I work in about 4 hours, so I best take advantage of my time...
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Friday, February 25, 2005
It's Friday... So what now?
I stayed up last night till 3am watching another three episodes of the O.C. with (Webster). This is great fun. I do, however, feel like I am falling behind on my West Wing episodes. Naughty, naughty, naughty. These are the things that you have to worry about second semester Senior year.
Before the O.C-a-thon, I went to Caffrey's to catch the MU-Cinnci game. Diener broke his hand a couple of days ago, so he is out for the season, as is Chris Grimm (although that is less of a tragedy). Anyway, our team was pretty brutalized. Oh well. Not the senior season that I was hoping for, but if that is my biggest dissapointment, I am blessed. During 1/2 time, I went to George Webbs and got 2 double cheeseburgers and fries for $3.80. Good God! Anyway, I hung out with Jon McPheters and a friend of his until about 11:30. I am not sure, but it may have been a "hook-up"... There were a couple things said that just seemed to indicate that this guy was interested. Or perhaps I had just had one too many. When I am at Caff's I just am not in "boy" mode: I dont even pay attention, which I kinda enjoy that I can just be me without worrying who is looking.
I wouldnt put that sort of thing past Jon though. He is possibly one of my favorite people ever. And the funny thing is that he has NO idea how desireable he is. At one point we got to tlaking about relationships, and he mentioned that he has only been in two short relationships while at Marquette. I responded with something like, "You could be in a relationship if you wanted to be." He just kinda laughed me off, not believing me. WHAT!!! This guy is gorgeous, kind, smart as hell, spiritual... At one point last semester I told (Julie) that all I wanted for Christmas was for her to have lots of babies with him. He said that he just never can tell if a girl is into him, and that the 2 relationships he has been in, both times the girls initiated the... touching. Geez. I need to hook this guy up.
Other than that, yesterday I did abs, taught our ethics class about the ethics of Porn, and argued everyone's mid-term grade up 6 points in our PR class. That was kinda the highlight of my academic day: in a class of 45 I took the professor on one-on-one on about 4 questions, until she kindly gave in on several points. Moved my grade up from an 80 to an 86. Big jump. Cool.
As for this weekend, I work much of it, which is cool. I look forward a bit to the money. I have to go grocery shopping to at some point. Then my Theo mid-term on Monday (tons of essays, yuck) another Spanish test on Wednesday and my trip to Minneapolis on Friday. It should prove to be a quick week. I just need to make sure I use this weekend wisely. Sure... we'll see if that happens
Before the O.C-a-thon, I went to Caffrey's to catch the MU-Cinnci game. Diener broke his hand a couple of days ago, so he is out for the season, as is Chris Grimm (although that is less of a tragedy). Anyway, our team was pretty brutalized. Oh well. Not the senior season that I was hoping for, but if that is my biggest dissapointment, I am blessed. During 1/2 time, I went to George Webbs and got 2 double cheeseburgers and fries for $3.80. Good God! Anyway, I hung out with Jon McPheters and a friend of his until about 11:30. I am not sure, but it may have been a "hook-up"... There were a couple things said that just seemed to indicate that this guy was interested. Or perhaps I had just had one too many. When I am at Caff's I just am not in "boy" mode: I dont even pay attention, which I kinda enjoy that I can just be me without worrying who is looking.
I wouldnt put that sort of thing past Jon though. He is possibly one of my favorite people ever. And the funny thing is that he has NO idea how desireable he is. At one point we got to tlaking about relationships, and he mentioned that he has only been in two short relationships while at Marquette. I responded with something like, "You could be in a relationship if you wanted to be." He just kinda laughed me off, not believing me. WHAT!!! This guy is gorgeous, kind, smart as hell, spiritual... At one point last semester I told (Julie) that all I wanted for Christmas was for her to have lots of babies with him. He said that he just never can tell if a girl is into him, and that the 2 relationships he has been in, both times the girls initiated the... touching. Geez. I need to hook this guy up.
Other than that, yesterday I did abs, taught our ethics class about the ethics of Porn, and argued everyone's mid-term grade up 6 points in our PR class. That was kinda the highlight of my academic day: in a class of 45 I took the professor on one-on-one on about 4 questions, until she kindly gave in on several points. Moved my grade up from an 80 to an 86. Big jump. Cool.
As for this weekend, I work much of it, which is cool. I look forward a bit to the money. I have to go grocery shopping to at some point. Then my Theo mid-term on Monday (tons of essays, yuck) another Spanish test on Wednesday and my trip to Minneapolis on Friday. It should prove to be a quick week. I just need to make sure I use this weekend wisely. Sure... we'll see if that happens
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
on more thing...
oh yeah... I forgot to mention... when I talked to (George) last night he made a comment like "Looks like you've been working out." Could there be a better victory for me? Yeah me!
time to sleep yet?
SOOOooo, (George) called last night while I was at work. Just left a message and said that it was time to have a conversation that was overdue. I wasnt sure what that meant, but we set up a time tonight for me to stop by. After dinner with (Julie) tonight, I went over, and we ended up clearing the air. I was honest and upfront, and he kinda just wanted to go back to our mentoring relationship. I told him that while I was interested in being "friendly," my friends are people who wont betray me (2x) and arent looking for one-sided relationships. (I almost mentioned that my father and sister would disown me if I gave George another go, but figured it would be prudent not to) He had been very flattering about the positive impact I had made on his MU experience, but I made it clear that, like everything else this semester, I am dropping that committment as well. Actually, he took it quite well. He seemed to understand my point, and didnt seem too hurt. I am very proud of the whole communication.
Now we are watching late night cartoons, after about 4 hours of the OC on dvd, my birthday present to (Webster). There are a ton of similarities to my experience in Venezuela, when a family took me off the street (more or less) for a temporary stay, and then put me up permanently. Anyway, things are back to normal with (Webster), back to normal with (Julie), and at least past animosity with (George). That feels pretty good. Time for bed. Last night was an all-nighter at Michael's after I got done with work, so I am pretty damn well tired.
Now we are watching late night cartoons, after about 4 hours of the OC on dvd, my birthday present to (Webster). There are a ton of similarities to my experience in Venezuela, when a family took me off the street (more or less) for a temporary stay, and then put me up permanently. Anyway, things are back to normal with (Webster), back to normal with (Julie), and at least past animosity with (George). That feels pretty good. Time for bed. Last night was an all-nighter at Michael's after I got done with work, so I am pretty damn well tired.
Monday, February 21, 2005
"If God is good, he be not God. If God is God, he be not good." J.B.
Dont worry, I am not going all atheist on you or anything. That quote is from J.B., a play I am reviewing for my critical writing class, based on the Book of Job. That is actually what I should be doing RIGHT now. The next 36 hours are probably going to be among the worst of my semester work-wise. I work 9-close tonight at the bar, and then have to wake up to take a 9:30 midterm in my stupid PR class, then hand in a critical analysis of this play, then hand in a 3page topic paper on environmental ethics, then lead a class discussion on the ethics behind pornoraphy. Yuck... I got through a lot of stuff yesterday but my computer is getting all yucky and I can't seem to get it to be nice. Actually, I just had a good idea... Perhaps a friend from the bar could spend some time with it.... Hmmm.... Anyway, I dont have time to think about it for now, it is minimally functional, and that is what I am going to have to go with for now.
The retreat this last weekend was amazing. It was SO relaxed, and pretty darn luxurious as retreats go. The food was fantastic, highlighted by Stuffed Cornish Game Hen on Saturday night. There was also a massuese (sp?) available for backrubs, which was perfect since my shoulders were all tight from lifting. But most of all it was just the opportunity to sit back and talk about "senior stuff" with people who had been through it and were going through it. There has been a lot of stuff running around in my brain that I just needed to expose for what it was--needless worrying. "Should I see it as a failure that I havent found a partner yet?" "How do I say goodbye?" "How canI stay in touch with the hundreds of friends I have who arent really good friends but are important to me nonetheless?" Plus the weekend gave me the opportunity to finish my Senior Speaker Application form. I kicked so much ass on it. It will certainly get me into the top ten.
I talked with Dad yesterday when we got back. It was a good talk, but at one point I mentioned something about a trip or something as a Graduation gift. He made it pretty clear that he had no intention of getting me ANYTHING. "We I graduated, I was taken out to dinner and given a pat on the back." Wow... But when you graduated, you were from a family of 7, all of which went to University, you always complained about that lack of attention. You also went to a state school for 5 years.
Actually, this is just me venting. I lack for nothing, and if I wanted to go on a trip or buy something, I totally could. I just get so used to hanging out with my friends from rich Chicago-suberbia, whose parents are going all out. I guess I need to get over that.
Not that I dont have a million other things going through my head, but I need to get back to the real work that is staring me down... 89 days till graduation!
The retreat this last weekend was amazing. It was SO relaxed, and pretty darn luxurious as retreats go. The food was fantastic, highlighted by Stuffed Cornish Game Hen on Saturday night. There was also a massuese (sp?) available for backrubs, which was perfect since my shoulders were all tight from lifting. But most of all it was just the opportunity to sit back and talk about "senior stuff" with people who had been through it and were going through it. There has been a lot of stuff running around in my brain that I just needed to expose for what it was--needless worrying. "Should I see it as a failure that I havent found a partner yet?" "How do I say goodbye?" "How canI stay in touch with the hundreds of friends I have who arent really good friends but are important to me nonetheless?" Plus the weekend gave me the opportunity to finish my Senior Speaker Application form. I kicked so much ass on it. It will certainly get me into the top ten.
I talked with Dad yesterday when we got back. It was a good talk, but at one point I mentioned something about a trip or something as a Graduation gift. He made it pretty clear that he had no intention of getting me ANYTHING. "We I graduated, I was taken out to dinner and given a pat on the back." Wow... But when you graduated, you were from a family of 7, all of which went to University, you always complained about that lack of attention. You also went to a state school for 5 years.
Actually, this is just me venting. I lack for nothing, and if I wanted to go on a trip or buy something, I totally could. I just get so used to hanging out with my friends from rich Chicago-suberbia, whose parents are going all out. I guess I need to get over that.
Not that I dont have a million other things going through my head, but I need to get back to the real work that is staring me down... 89 days till graduation!
Thursday, February 17, 2005
The bluffs
Things have gotten busier. I hardly have time to drink anymore. God. If my father could only hear me now. He worries intensely that I will become an alcoholic like him. And while I have taken to drinking almost every night of the week, it is a social thing, I almost never over imbibe, and it is just a Senior Year thing.
With Valentine's and all, everyone seems to be talking about relationships again. Aack. I am tired of dating. Guys ask me out all the time at work and oftentimes it is not about them, it is just that I dont want to go through the hassle of thinking someone's attractive, then going out, hooking up (maybe), then being dissapointed that they either aren't as intelligent/passionate/driven etc. as I would like them to be or they dont understand what my life is always about. Part of this is that people see me as "the bartender." I am not whining or anything, because this helps me get laid a whole lot more than usual, but people do have this tendency to reduce me to just that job. I am just some cute guy behind the bar. Whatever, I can deal, but it makes me long for someone who REALLY knows me. I come back to what I've wanted for years: a friendship. It is the model of relationships that I really think is most likely to work out, it is the model that my father and mother taught me: be friends first let love come at its own pace. I thought I had that with (George) but he really had hi own issues to take care of. That was one of the reasons that I was SO hopeful for our relationship, is because it was all about friendship. I guess that the moral here is that I need to keep working on my friendships, gay and straight alike, to give this dream a chance. Am I waiting to make friends with some really hot guy in law school who will turn out to be gay? Maybe. But I guess the focus will be on making friends with whomever I can and waiting to see.
(Julie) got rejected by Marquette Law. This surprises me to no end. I wish that I could march into some of these offices and just give them an ear-full about what a wonderful candidate she would be. I know few students who work harder, with more passion. It's just that on paper, she is probably not getting any consideration at all. She wrote great essays, but I doubt they are even getting that far. Another friend rom class was telling me about all the rejections he is getting. He is one of the brightest people I know. Perhaps I aimed low, but I really have never been rejected nor expected to be. I got this teeny-tiny envelope from Villanova the other day, and got all excited: Maybe I could finally tell (Julie) that I had been rejected somewhere, so I knew how she felt! (It's twisted, I know, but I already know where I am going.) Anyway, I was dissapointed to find that it was an Open House invite for ADMITTED applicants. I didnt know I had been admitted, so I called and they told me that my letter was just being sent out... Oops.
I had an "I miss my Mommy" moment on Tuesday. I don't know what brought it on, but I think that there are a lot of emotions that I havent been dealing with later, and it is easiest to vent those while focusing on my mother. Dad had sent a broshure/newspaper from the Madeleine Thomas Memorial Ski Tour to show me the art this year, and it had been just sitting on my kitchen table. While talking to (Webster) about girls, I started to leaf through it and found a piece my father had written with my mother's photo on it. It just kind of shocked me. Perhaps it shouldn't have. But from there, I locked myself in the room and ended up Googling every piece I cold find on Mom, just talking about how cool she was. I do miss her. She had become such a good friend to me, as well as one hell of a kick-in-the-pants.
Got to go to a mindless, boring class now. I'll bring a magazine and catch up on my reading.
With Valentine's and all, everyone seems to be talking about relationships again. Aack. I am tired of dating. Guys ask me out all the time at work and oftentimes it is not about them, it is just that I dont want to go through the hassle of thinking someone's attractive, then going out, hooking up (maybe), then being dissapointed that they either aren't as intelligent/passionate/driven etc. as I would like them to be or they dont understand what my life is always about. Part of this is that people see me as "the bartender." I am not whining or anything, because this helps me get laid a whole lot more than usual, but people do have this tendency to reduce me to just that job. I am just some cute guy behind the bar. Whatever, I can deal, but it makes me long for someone who REALLY knows me. I come back to what I've wanted for years: a friendship. It is the model of relationships that I really think is most likely to work out, it is the model that my father and mother taught me: be friends first let love come at its own pace. I thought I had that with (George) but he really had hi own issues to take care of. That was one of the reasons that I was SO hopeful for our relationship, is because it was all about friendship. I guess that the moral here is that I need to keep working on my friendships, gay and straight alike, to give this dream a chance. Am I waiting to make friends with some really hot guy in law school who will turn out to be gay? Maybe. But I guess the focus will be on making friends with whomever I can and waiting to see.
(Julie) got rejected by Marquette Law. This surprises me to no end. I wish that I could march into some of these offices and just give them an ear-full about what a wonderful candidate she would be. I know few students who work harder, with more passion. It's just that on paper, she is probably not getting any consideration at all. She wrote great essays, but I doubt they are even getting that far. Another friend rom class was telling me about all the rejections he is getting. He is one of the brightest people I know. Perhaps I aimed low, but I really have never been rejected nor expected to be. I got this teeny-tiny envelope from Villanova the other day, and got all excited: Maybe I could finally tell (Julie) that I had been rejected somewhere, so I knew how she felt! (It's twisted, I know, but I already know where I am going.) Anyway, I was dissapointed to find that it was an Open House invite for ADMITTED applicants. I didnt know I had been admitted, so I called and they told me that my letter was just being sent out... Oops.
I had an "I miss my Mommy" moment on Tuesday. I don't know what brought it on, but I think that there are a lot of emotions that I havent been dealing with later, and it is easiest to vent those while focusing on my mother. Dad had sent a broshure/newspaper from the Madeleine Thomas Memorial Ski Tour to show me the art this year, and it had been just sitting on my kitchen table. While talking to (Webster) about girls, I started to leaf through it and found a piece my father had written with my mother's photo on it. It just kind of shocked me. Perhaps it shouldn't have. But from there, I locked myself in the room and ended up Googling every piece I cold find on Mom, just talking about how cool she was. I do miss her. She had become such a good friend to me, as well as one hell of a kick-in-the-pants.
Got to go to a mindless, boring class now. I'll bring a magazine and catch up on my reading.
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
getting it done
There is this website that I was supposed to have done for the Bag Boyz by the end of fall semester 2003. I am still working on it. Last night i worked from 9pm till about 2:30 am on some of the more tedious elements, but I got a lot of stuff done. Good God! It is almost as if part of me didnt want to finish the project so that I wouldn't have to graduate and move on with my life.
Other than that, the Absolute Abs course kicked my ass yesterday, but I love it. I am so thrilled that Will is game to go through it with me. And I am eating healthier than ever. On a completely seperate note, I think that I am going to get slightly involved in a campus drama. ( i just can't stay away) The advisor of the Tribune was just fired, and there is a secret letter that Fr. Wild wrote him that is apparently pretty nasty. Nobody will let the students see it. Well, yesterday a faculty friend of mine told me that s/he wanted to see it in print but feared for his/her job if it were to get back to them... I think s/he was offering it to me... Anyway, I am going to check on that today. Yeah covert fun!
Other than that, the Absolute Abs course kicked my ass yesterday, but I love it. I am so thrilled that Will is game to go through it with me. And I am eating healthier than ever. On a completely seperate note, I think that I am going to get slightly involved in a campus drama. ( i just can't stay away) The advisor of the Tribune was just fired, and there is a secret letter that Fr. Wild wrote him that is apparently pretty nasty. Nobody will let the students see it. Well, yesterday a faculty friend of mine told me that s/he wanted to see it in print but feared for his/her job if it were to get back to them... I think s/he was offering it to me... Anyway, I am going to check on that today. Yeah covert fun!
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
Awake again
Had a blast last night. Stayed out for a bit longer than planned (11:30) then went to the library where I got to feel sorry for all those who weren't enjoying life as much as I. The irony is that I feel, given that I have awoken this early, that i am going to end up perfectly prepared for my academic day. I will be ready for a nap once it is all done, but that's fairly normal...
At Caffrey's I saw Lolo, as anticipated, and gave her a box of cigarettes to pay her back for all the ones that I have bummed in the past. She seemed keen on talking about Griff... At least she reconciled with him, so I know that he is not completely alone. At one point Lolo asked me if I was sad about the whole thing. I told her that my "disappointment" was the better word. I saw great potential in my relationship with Griff. It was based on spirituality and friendship, two things I rarely find in the gay community. But in our breakup I feel more saddened for him than for myself. I know the difficulties that he has faced, and I fear that unless he gets some major adjustments in how he views the world (ie. everybody is against him, everybody is going to hurt him) he is going to be very unhappy. Me? I have been through the disappointment before. I probably will be again. I'm just glad that we left the relationship open, so when all is said and done, I didnt lose out on anything for giving this thing a go.
Last night also gave me the opportunity to connect with some old friends. Craig, Jon Mueller, Dave Lindsmith, Karen primarily. I bought a lot of people a lot of beers, and felt happy that I could do people that small favor. Having realized how much I love that moment in time, I feel like it is the least I can do.
Time to do my assignments for the day.
At Caffrey's I saw Lolo, as anticipated, and gave her a box of cigarettes to pay her back for all the ones that I have bummed in the past. She seemed keen on talking about Griff... At least she reconciled with him, so I know that he is not completely alone. At one point Lolo asked me if I was sad about the whole thing. I told her that my "disappointment" was the better word. I saw great potential in my relationship with Griff. It was based on spirituality and friendship, two things I rarely find in the gay community. But in our breakup I feel more saddened for him than for myself. I know the difficulties that he has faced, and I fear that unless he gets some major adjustments in how he views the world (ie. everybody is against him, everybody is going to hurt him) he is going to be very unhappy. Me? I have been through the disappointment before. I probably will be again. I'm just glad that we left the relationship open, so when all is said and done, I didnt lose out on anything for giving this thing a go.
Last night also gave me the opportunity to connect with some old friends. Craig, Jon Mueller, Dave Lindsmith, Karen primarily. I bought a lot of people a lot of beers, and felt happy that I could do people that small favor. Having realized how much I love that moment in time, I feel like it is the least I can do.
Time to do my assignments for the day.
Monday, January 31, 2005
Unlikely beginings
So, I must confess that I feel it is pretentious for me to begin this blog. While I know many who have done similarly, I dont know what makes me think that anyone would care to read what I have written. But, perhaps for theraputic reasons, perhaps for reasons egomaniacal, I have started this blog. In other periods of my life I have had exciting things to report, travels, strategies, the exercise of learning embodied in eager study. I dont know that I have anything of that sort to transmit to anyone reading this. I discarded a lot of things last semester: religion, power, love, some aspirations, a lot of responsibility. And I am left with a rather raw version of the person I knew before. I invested in a lot of things, and have come out only with relationships tested and proven. I guess if that is the only thing I can say for myself, its that I do not lack for friends.
I am off to Monday Night Beer club. Once again shirking my academic responsibilites (more as a flexing of my new liberation from the chains of long-term worry: I have been accepted, on scholarship, and need only graduate... Although it would be nice to stay Magna Cum Laude...) So Beer Club it is. God Bless progressives! And double fisting Spotted Cow! Cheers!
I am off to Monday Night Beer club. Once again shirking my academic responsibilites (more as a flexing of my new liberation from the chains of long-term worry: I have been accepted, on scholarship, and need only graduate... Although it would be nice to stay Magna Cum Laude...) So Beer Club it is. God Bless progressives! And double fisting Spotted Cow! Cheers!
Saturday, June 19, 2004
The Arrival (emails from abroad)
Hey there! (this is a long one, but hope its worth it)
I have been hesitant to send this email until today, and I didn't quite know why. I officially arrived (hiking) to Santiago today after unofficially (on the bus) seeing the city last night. That night I saw the direct blessings of God in my life in very physical forms with, as cheesy as it sounds, a well-timed laser light and sound show that reflected off the cathedral in celebration of the ever flowing incoming stream of pilgrims into the city. It also began to lightly rain, a blessing of immeasurable proportions.
I need to explain the rain thing. It tends to rain a lot in this northern region of Spain, and before I left I received more than a few warnings to expect some miserable, soaked days of walking. Most of you know that weather affects my mood tremendously, moreso than most, and I held two major prayers for physical blessings on this pilgrimage: dry weather and not having shin-split pain. Yesterday, after 20 days of walking over 500kms of northern mountainous country, was the first time I saw even a drop of rain, and also the first time I felt the need to ice my shins. And I had already arrived at my destination. As simple as these things are, I have little choice but to see them as inconceivable coincidences. Thus, I consider them blessings.
Then, today, I arrived to the culmination of my pilgrimage, receiving my official pilgrim degree (in Latin) and a complimentary pass out of purgatory (a. I'm not kidding, this is for real, b. I passed the pardoning on to my mother, who, after 5 years if she's still there, deserves the "get out of purgatory free" card).
But the arrival somehow felt empty, lonely all of a sudden, lonely for pretty much the first time on my journey. The day was the first overcast day I have seen in weeks, and my body didn't react well to the sudden change, as much as I realize how blest I was. After wandering the city for a little while, I made my way to the Cathedral, the focal point for all pilgrims, dedicated more to St. James (Santiago) than to Jesus.
This brings me to a point have been struggling with for the last week or so, which are all the "tourist pilgrims," that have hopped on the end of the route, doing the last 100km that is necessary to be able to say you did the Camino. I have seen the level of respect plummet, and the level of litter climb, and I have had to focus much more on really making my spiritual journey happen. Perhaps this was a good way to get readjusted to the "real" world that I hope to bring my lessons back to, but it has none the less been a struggle to watch the Spaniards show up, bring the party along, and secularize their own pilgrimage.
So, when I approached the Cathedral, I was not surprised to feel inundated with the Tourist Trap-ish-ness of it. Vendors everywhere, little old-bitties gabbing all over the church, and I told more than a few gentlemen to kindly remove their hats. All the while, people are pushing each other to kneel down in front of St. James (I wont get into the sacrilegious sentiment I feel about that). I prepared myself for another hopelessly sad and spiritually empty Spanish mass.
It was however, not. In a spiritual reminder of the awesome Church community I have waiting for me back home, this mass included some music (rare), a fairly moving sermon (rare), and a giant, circus-like incense burner that they swung from one end of the church to another (pretty uncommon...). But above all, I arrived.
I arrived at the Eucharist. For whatever reason, I found the Eucharist at this mass so incredibly powerful and filling that I began weeping uncontrollably. As I took the host and tears streamed down my face, I finally felt like my journey was done. My destination was not Santiago, it was that under-celebrated union with Christ, the Eucharist. The change in my emotion was simply amazing. I had finally arrived. And it has been a long journey.
On a less serious note, I have a list of fun observations below, everyone of them applicable and very true. Should be amusing (or maybe my sense of humor is just getting twisted). I am state-side a week from now. I am so extremely excited by that, and I hope to see you all soon. And to the 60 of you who have emailed me recently, maybe I will be a good friend and get back to you soon.
All my love and prayers,
Christian
Signs that you have been walking alone too long:
.--a breakfast of a multivitamin, 3 ibuprofen and an allergy pill seems "well balanced." Add some sort of caffeine (cafe, cola or chocolate) and you are golden.
--you start to see a day with no mountains to climb as "just not challenging enough."
--You don't realize you are wearing a red shirt, 2 red bandanas, a red side-bag (purse), and a giant red backpack until a bull starts charging towards you from across a field.
-you start to think up dance tunes to the squeaking of your backpack.
--you walk 50k in one day, just because you can.
--you start to read "non-potable water" as "slim chance of tapeworms," and you drink away.
--talking to yourself becomes so normal, waiters ask if they should put down another table setting.
--you actually look forward to the timed freezing/tepid shower that awaits you at the dorm each night.
--the swarm of flies surrounding you serve as the only reminder that you haven't braved that freezing shower in three days.--you have grown so accustomed to falling asleep to 4-5 people snoring rhythmically around you, that it is now a necessity.
--the mandatory 10pm bedtime just "seems to make sense.
--instead of getting enraged at the German guy who inevitably turns on the light at 5am to get ready, you join him for an early morning.
--you get righteous about all those sensible enough to ship their bags ahead or bike from town to town. I mean, what wimps!
--you start to think that walking with a large red exterior-frame backpack from the 1970s is a reasonable form of transportation.
for those of you who have read this far, thanks for accompanying me on this journey. See you soon!
I have been hesitant to send this email until today, and I didn't quite know why. I officially arrived (hiking) to Santiago today after unofficially (on the bus) seeing the city last night. That night I saw the direct blessings of God in my life in very physical forms with, as cheesy as it sounds, a well-timed laser light and sound show that reflected off the cathedral in celebration of the ever flowing incoming stream of pilgrims into the city. It also began to lightly rain, a blessing of immeasurable proportions.
I need to explain the rain thing. It tends to rain a lot in this northern region of Spain, and before I left I received more than a few warnings to expect some miserable, soaked days of walking. Most of you know that weather affects my mood tremendously, moreso than most, and I held two major prayers for physical blessings on this pilgrimage: dry weather and not having shin-split pain. Yesterday, after 20 days of walking over 500kms of northern mountainous country, was the first time I saw even a drop of rain, and also the first time I felt the need to ice my shins. And I had already arrived at my destination. As simple as these things are, I have little choice but to see them as inconceivable coincidences. Thus, I consider them blessings.
Then, today, I arrived to the culmination of my pilgrimage, receiving my official pilgrim degree (in Latin) and a complimentary pass out of purgatory (a. I'm not kidding, this is for real, b. I passed the pardoning on to my mother, who, after 5 years if she's still there, deserves the "get out of purgatory free" card).
But the arrival somehow felt empty, lonely all of a sudden, lonely for pretty much the first time on my journey. The day was the first overcast day I have seen in weeks, and my body didn't react well to the sudden change, as much as I realize how blest I was. After wandering the city for a little while, I made my way to the Cathedral, the focal point for all pilgrims, dedicated more to St. James (Santiago) than to Jesus.
This brings me to a point have been struggling with for the last week or so, which are all the "tourist pilgrims," that have hopped on the end of the route, doing the last 100km that is necessary to be able to say you did the Camino. I have seen the level of respect plummet, and the level of litter climb, and I have had to focus much more on really making my spiritual journey happen. Perhaps this was a good way to get readjusted to the "real" world that I hope to bring my lessons back to, but it has none the less been a struggle to watch the Spaniards show up, bring the party along, and secularize their own pilgrimage.
So, when I approached the Cathedral, I was not surprised to feel inundated with the Tourist Trap-ish-ness of it. Vendors everywhere, little old-bitties gabbing all over the church, and I told more than a few gentlemen to kindly remove their hats. All the while, people are pushing each other to kneel down in front of St. James (I wont get into the sacrilegious sentiment I feel about that). I prepared myself for another hopelessly sad and spiritually empty Spanish mass.
It was however, not. In a spiritual reminder of the awesome Church community I have waiting for me back home, this mass included some music (rare), a fairly moving sermon (rare), and a giant, circus-like incense burner that they swung from one end of the church to another (pretty uncommon...). But above all, I arrived.
I arrived at the Eucharist. For whatever reason, I found the Eucharist at this mass so incredibly powerful and filling that I began weeping uncontrollably. As I took the host and tears streamed down my face, I finally felt like my journey was done. My destination was not Santiago, it was that under-celebrated union with Christ, the Eucharist. The change in my emotion was simply amazing. I had finally arrived. And it has been a long journey.
On a less serious note, I have a list of fun observations below, everyone of them applicable and very true. Should be amusing (or maybe my sense of humor is just getting twisted). I am state-side a week from now. I am so extremely excited by that, and I hope to see you all soon. And to the 60 of you who have emailed me recently, maybe I will be a good friend and get back to you soon.
All my love and prayers,
Christian
Signs that you have been walking alone too long:
.--a breakfast of a multivitamin, 3 ibuprofen and an allergy pill seems "well balanced." Add some sort of caffeine (cafe, cola or chocolate) and you are golden.
--you start to see a day with no mountains to climb as "just not challenging enough."
--You don't realize you are wearing a red shirt, 2 red bandanas, a red side-bag (purse), and a giant red backpack until a bull starts charging towards you from across a field.
-you start to think up dance tunes to the squeaking of your backpack.
--you walk 50k in one day, just because you can.
--you start to read "non-potable water" as "slim chance of tapeworms," and you drink away.
--talking to yourself becomes so normal, waiters ask if they should put down another table setting.
--you actually look forward to the timed freezing/tepid shower that awaits you at the dorm each night.
--the swarm of flies surrounding you serve as the only reminder that you haven't braved that freezing shower in three days.--you have grown so accustomed to falling asleep to 4-5 people snoring rhythmically around you, that it is now a necessity.
--the mandatory 10pm bedtime just "seems to make sense.
--instead of getting enraged at the German guy who inevitably turns on the light at 5am to get ready, you join him for an early morning.
--you get righteous about all those sensible enough to ship their bags ahead or bike from town to town. I mean, what wimps!
--you start to think that walking with a large red exterior-frame backpack from the 1970s is a reasonable form of transportation.
for those of you who have read this far, thanks for accompanying me on this journey. See you soon!
Monday, June 07, 2004
Poppies, Puppies or Poopies, this scenery is gorgeous! (emails from abroad)
Hello there my dear friends!
Today is a bit of my day off, taking time to rest and do laundry after a long stretch of pilgrimaging. I really dont know how to start to communicate this spiritual journey with you all. But here goes nothing (be sure this will be a long one).
I started this trip last Sunday in Pamplona, and since then have been waking every day sometime between 3:30 and 6:30 am to walk between 30-40 Km during 8 hours per day. The actual walking has been simply amazing, and I have seen country-side and scenry that simply takes your breath away. During these long days, I think about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness (seriously) and do a ton of praying over my not-so-distant post-college direction. I have also met many many people who are doing the pilgrimage for various reasons from all different countries.
Among the many anecdotes I have had on this adventure so far, would be with one of the other pilgrims I met along the way. I walked with Nikolai, a charming French man, for about a day and as we were trekking through farm country dotted with small red flowers, he comments on its beauty. "All these puppies really brighten up these endless fields," he said in his rather excellent english. I was puzzled... "Oh, you mean the pOppies?" He responded, "Oh sure, the pOOpies." I then explained the difference between the three and we had a good laugh.
Since I dont have enough words to properly describe the scenery, nor enough film to capture it, I think I will describe the spectical that I have become, evolving this last week into a hard-core hiker. When I managed to "accidentally" walk 42 Km a couple days ago, and didnt think much of it, I knew that I had hit a certain stride. Right now I am sporting 7 "little friends," otherwise known as painful blisters on either end of my feet. There are all sorts of tricks of the trade that involve a little self-surgery to help these friends on their way, so I find them survivable, if a little bit of a pain.
But the bigger problem has been the sun. I have been blessed with incredible weather, but that can often come with a scorching sun. I am working on a rather significant farmer's tan. Since I walk pretty continually to the south-west of the country, the left side of my body gets the worst of it, so I have taken to slanting the bill of my Marquette hat (now very faded) to the side to better shield my face, I wear a red bandana around my upper arm, and have two black wrist-bands wrapped around my knuckles. Add to that the fact that I low-ride my pants so that my pack wont rest directly on my belt line, and I look like an Emenem fan who is a bit lost.
I also carry a long walking stick that is forked at the end, sport the half-clam shell that is the sign of the Camino, and of course have sewn Dorey, my wonderful stufed traveling companion, to the top of my pack so she looks over my right shoulder. Needless to say, I am quite the site to behold striding into the little villages I pass through.
So, I am sitting now in Leon, with about 10 more days of walking left. I want you to know that you are all in my daily prayers, and I ask that you keep me in yours. This journey can be tough. I have been able to see the many many blessings in my life, and my big dilemna is what exactly I am going to do in my life to make a dent in repayment for those blessings.
That is my journey. Life is a pilgrimage. God bless you on yours!
Yours,
Christian
(19 days till State-side!)
Today is a bit of my day off, taking time to rest and do laundry after a long stretch of pilgrimaging. I really dont know how to start to communicate this spiritual journey with you all. But here goes nothing (be sure this will be a long one).
I started this trip last Sunday in Pamplona, and since then have been waking every day sometime between 3:30 and 6:30 am to walk between 30-40 Km during 8 hours per day. The actual walking has been simply amazing, and I have seen country-side and scenry that simply takes your breath away. During these long days, I think about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness (seriously) and do a ton of praying over my not-so-distant post-college direction. I have also met many many people who are doing the pilgrimage for various reasons from all different countries.
Among the many anecdotes I have had on this adventure so far, would be with one of the other pilgrims I met along the way. I walked with Nikolai, a charming French man, for about a day and as we were trekking through farm country dotted with small red flowers, he comments on its beauty. "All these puppies really brighten up these endless fields," he said in his rather excellent english. I was puzzled... "Oh, you mean the pOppies?" He responded, "Oh sure, the pOOpies." I then explained the difference between the three and we had a good laugh.
Since I dont have enough words to properly describe the scenery, nor enough film to capture it, I think I will describe the spectical that I have become, evolving this last week into a hard-core hiker. When I managed to "accidentally" walk 42 Km a couple days ago, and didnt think much of it, I knew that I had hit a certain stride. Right now I am sporting 7 "little friends," otherwise known as painful blisters on either end of my feet. There are all sorts of tricks of the trade that involve a little self-surgery to help these friends on their way, so I find them survivable, if a little bit of a pain.
But the bigger problem has been the sun. I have been blessed with incredible weather, but that can often come with a scorching sun. I am working on a rather significant farmer's tan. Since I walk pretty continually to the south-west of the country, the left side of my body gets the worst of it, so I have taken to slanting the bill of my Marquette hat (now very faded) to the side to better shield my face, I wear a red bandana around my upper arm, and have two black wrist-bands wrapped around my knuckles. Add to that the fact that I low-ride my pants so that my pack wont rest directly on my belt line, and I look like an Emenem fan who is a bit lost.
I also carry a long walking stick that is forked at the end, sport the half-clam shell that is the sign of the Camino, and of course have sewn Dorey, my wonderful stufed traveling companion, to the top of my pack so she looks over my right shoulder. Needless to say, I am quite the site to behold striding into the little villages I pass through.
So, I am sitting now in Leon, with about 10 more days of walking left. I want you to know that you are all in my daily prayers, and I ask that you keep me in yours. This journey can be tough. I have been able to see the many many blessings in my life, and my big dilemna is what exactly I am going to do in my life to make a dent in repayment for those blessings.
That is my journey. Life is a pilgrimage. God bless you on yours!
Yours,
Christian
(19 days till State-side!)
Monday, May 24, 2004
How I lost my International Newsweek (emails from abroad)
So I know that I said that you all had probably seen the last of my group emails, but I promise that this one is worth it.
Yesterday, to take a break from the studying that I was not doing for this week's exams, I picked up the International version of Newsweek that I had bought for 4€ last week in the Barcelona airport. As some of you know, Newsweek is MY magazine. I love this thing. I could read it non-stop for days and be as happy as a clam. Well, yesterday's was no different. I was highlighting, tearing out pages to keep, getting madder and madder about the current world situation, and then had to fold it up and take it with me for my lunch plans.
Well, as tends to happen when one is trying to study, lunch turned into coffee, which turned into shopping, which turned into drinks, which was then turning into dinner. I was hanging out with a group of about 5 splendid conversationalists at this point, and thoroughly enjoying the afternoon. As our group left the Thai bar to go to the Chinese Restaurant (hey, what can I say, we're cultured) I heard some shouting in the intersection about 50 feet ahead of us. I figured someone was hurt, so I jogged forward to see if I could help.
That jog turned into a dead sprint as I realized this little old lady had just been attacked and robbed, and now there were two guys trying to chase down the thief. Without even thinking, I kicked off my flip-flops in the middle of the street, and sprinted after. Spaniards tend to be heavy smokers, so I was not surprised at all when I passed both of the other chasers and became the guy in the lead. I followed for about four blocks screaming "Ladron, Ladron!" as I tried not to slip on the crosswalk paint on pavement wet from the recent rain.
I was within about 5 feet of the thief, when he bent down and picked up a large rock from the ground. I didn't even think, but just responded and the next thing I know, I have him from behind, in a semi-headlock half-nelson (see... 6th grade wrestling did do something for me). The man is waving around trying to get me with the rock, and punching me as best he can with the other hand. I twisted his arm so he dropped the rock, and then the 2nd chaser came up and helped me restrain the man, who still held a shiny black leather purse in his hand. One of my first reactions was "Dude, that is SOO not your color."
At that point, a spectator came up and started punching the thief, whose head is now securely between my chest and my fore-arm. So I swing around to then protect the thief, and the 2nd guy tries to get this 3rd guy away. At that point a plain-clothed police officer shows up, flashes a badge, and asks me to continue retraining the guy. Hmmm... Okay. We make the thief sit down until the old lady has had a chance to make her way over from where she was first robbed and ID her purse (Well its certainly not mine! Mine is red.)
While we were waiting, the thief tries to tell the cop that it was not him who stole the purse, but ME. I kinda just laughed, pointed at my bare feet and comment, "No tengo zapatos. ¿A quien voy a robar sin zapatos?" (I don't have shoes, who am I going to rob without shoes?) The Policia seemed to take that as definitive proof that I could not, indeed, be the robber.
So the little old lady makes her way over, and is just sobbing. Relieved to have her purse, she has a large gash along the side of her arm from the incident. She IDs the purse, IDs the robber, and then the Policia makes us go into the nearest shop to call for a squad car. And just our luck, the nearest shop is a porn store. Great... (Dad, remind you of a similar situation in New Orleans?) Anyway, our whole rabble packs in among the racy videos, magazines and other delightful memorabilia (with the little old lady) and stand there waiting for a car. Everyone seems to be pretty puzzled by my bare feet, even as I try to explain, still breathless and zonked out from adrenaline, that I had kicked them off in pursuit.
The police came, took the bad guy away, took the viejita off to the hospital to check out her arm, and I went off to my Chinese meal. A friend had grabbed my flip-flops saying, "One minuted you were there, the next I was just staring at a pair of sandals..." I had to go and give a statement today, and tomorrow I get to have my first (and hopefully only) experience in front of a Spanish Judge. Well I guess if I needed an excuse not to study, here it is. (not that I have ever needed one).
But as I chugged down some water, and ate my spring roll appetizer, I quickly swore out loud. I remembered that as I was running, my 4€ Newsweek had fallen out of my bag. It was one of those things that passes so quickly so your consciousness that you simply move on, until you realize that your beloved magazine is now sitting in a rainy street. But I suppose that as far as losing reading material goes, this is a pretty darn good story.
All my love,
Christian
Antonio: "Dude, your a hero"
Christian: "Nah, I'm a Boy Scout."
Yesterday, to take a break from the studying that I was not doing for this week's exams, I picked up the International version of Newsweek that I had bought for 4€ last week in the Barcelona airport. As some of you know, Newsweek is MY magazine. I love this thing. I could read it non-stop for days and be as happy as a clam. Well, yesterday's was no different. I was highlighting, tearing out pages to keep, getting madder and madder about the current world situation, and then had to fold it up and take it with me for my lunch plans.
Well, as tends to happen when one is trying to study, lunch turned into coffee, which turned into shopping, which turned into drinks, which was then turning into dinner. I was hanging out with a group of about 5 splendid conversationalists at this point, and thoroughly enjoying the afternoon. As our group left the Thai bar to go to the Chinese Restaurant (hey, what can I say, we're cultured) I heard some shouting in the intersection about 50 feet ahead of us. I figured someone was hurt, so I jogged forward to see if I could help.
That jog turned into a dead sprint as I realized this little old lady had just been attacked and robbed, and now there were two guys trying to chase down the thief. Without even thinking, I kicked off my flip-flops in the middle of the street, and sprinted after. Spaniards tend to be heavy smokers, so I was not surprised at all when I passed both of the other chasers and became the guy in the lead. I followed for about four blocks screaming "Ladron, Ladron!" as I tried not to slip on the crosswalk paint on pavement wet from the recent rain.
I was within about 5 feet of the thief, when he bent down and picked up a large rock from the ground. I didn't even think, but just responded and the next thing I know, I have him from behind, in a semi-headlock half-nelson (see... 6th grade wrestling did do something for me). The man is waving around trying to get me with the rock, and punching me as best he can with the other hand. I twisted his arm so he dropped the rock, and then the 2nd chaser came up and helped me restrain the man, who still held a shiny black leather purse in his hand. One of my first reactions was "Dude, that is SOO not your color."
At that point, a spectator came up and started punching the thief, whose head is now securely between my chest and my fore-arm. So I swing around to then protect the thief, and the 2nd guy tries to get this 3rd guy away. At that point a plain-clothed police officer shows up, flashes a badge, and asks me to continue retraining the guy. Hmmm... Okay. We make the thief sit down until the old lady has had a chance to make her way over from where she was first robbed and ID her purse (Well its certainly not mine! Mine is red.)
While we were waiting, the thief tries to tell the cop that it was not him who stole the purse, but ME. I kinda just laughed, pointed at my bare feet and comment, "No tengo zapatos. ¿A quien voy a robar sin zapatos?" (I don't have shoes, who am I going to rob without shoes?) The Policia seemed to take that as definitive proof that I could not, indeed, be the robber.
So the little old lady makes her way over, and is just sobbing. Relieved to have her purse, she has a large gash along the side of her arm from the incident. She IDs the purse, IDs the robber, and then the Policia makes us go into the nearest shop to call for a squad car. And just our luck, the nearest shop is a porn store. Great... (Dad, remind you of a similar situation in New Orleans?) Anyway, our whole rabble packs in among the racy videos, magazines and other delightful memorabilia (with the little old lady) and stand there waiting for a car. Everyone seems to be pretty puzzled by my bare feet, even as I try to explain, still breathless and zonked out from adrenaline, that I had kicked them off in pursuit.
The police came, took the bad guy away, took the viejita off to the hospital to check out her arm, and I went off to my Chinese meal. A friend had grabbed my flip-flops saying, "One minuted you were there, the next I was just staring at a pair of sandals..." I had to go and give a statement today, and tomorrow I get to have my first (and hopefully only) experience in front of a Spanish Judge. Well I guess if I needed an excuse not to study, here it is. (not that I have ever needed one).
But as I chugged down some water, and ate my spring roll appetizer, I quickly swore out loud. I remembered that as I was running, my 4€ Newsweek had fallen out of my bag. It was one of those things that passes so quickly so your consciousness that you simply move on, until you realize that your beloved magazine is now sitting in a rainy street. But I suppose that as far as losing reading material goes, this is a pretty darn good story.
All my love,
Christian
Antonio: "Dude, your a hero"
Christian: "Nah, I'm a Boy Scout."
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Huelga, Huelga!!! (emails from abroad)
Well, here I am folks, the end of this fantastic journey... well almost.
I just got back yesterday from Barcelona, where I a) went and finally got myself back to Manresa to save the cave of St. Ignatius, where he wrote the spiritual exercises b) spent a morning at the United Nations Forum looking at worldwide social justice issues and then spending the afternoon walking along the beaches of Barcelona (and encountering my first nude beach---did not partake) and finally c) spent a day writing a paper in the incredible "Biblioteca de Catalunya," an ancient building with vaulted romanesque ceiling and full wood furnishings. Then I went and got into a literal fight with a hairstylist, who ended up buzzing my head so I now have a full military-style mohawk. (dont worry, I like it)
So, it was an exciting weekend all in all, and I loved getting off on my own for a bit. This is, of course, a good thing becuase I will be leaving June 1 for a month of hiking on my own.
I turned in the last of my Trabajos today, and it felt awesome to have that intense part of my semester behind me. I dont know that I have written that intensely in English in many semesters. 5 pages for History, 8 pages for Lit, 11 pages for Theology and finally 7 pages for Dialectology, all within about two weeks. Now I have a couple days of class and then exams... But WAIT!!! Along with the relief of handing in papers today, I was told that several of our profs will be participating in the national education strike (Huelga! Huelga!) tomorrow, so my schedule is extremely diminished. Cool!
On a business note, the University asks me to remind everyone NOT to send me anything after tomorrow (the 20th) because I will not be around to get it. And from my end, I BEG of you all NOT to send me any large emails within the next month or so. I will be hiking from small city to small city in the northern part of Spain, and I anticipate that I will only get to my email every once in a while. But DO feel free to send up a few prayers for me along my pilgrimage. And I probably have a couple more "updates" in my system before all is said and done.
To all the Seniors on my list, I was thinking today about how much I am going to miss everyone, and seriously will think of you often next year as we all scramble to fill your shoes. I would not be the person I am today if it wasnt for a large number of upper-classmen that have touched my life in very profound ways these last two years. If you havent done so already, please send me your updated email info for when Emarq boots you.
Otherwise, the city is all geeked up for the Royal Wedding this weekend, and it should be an interesting piece of histoy to be here for. And I am gearing up for my big hike and return to the States. This experience has been incredible, but likewise it will be incredible to be home.
All my love to all,
Christian
“Fifty years ago today, nine judges announced that they had looked at the Constitution and saw no justification for the segregation and humiliation of an entire race,” Bush said May 17 praising the activist court of the 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education decision. Hmmm... isnt retropect nice??
I just got back yesterday from Barcelona, where I a) went and finally got myself back to Manresa to save the cave of St. Ignatius, where he wrote the spiritual exercises b) spent a morning at the United Nations Forum looking at worldwide social justice issues and then spending the afternoon walking along the beaches of Barcelona (and encountering my first nude beach---did not partake) and finally c) spent a day writing a paper in the incredible "Biblioteca de Catalunya," an ancient building with vaulted romanesque ceiling and full wood furnishings. Then I went and got into a literal fight with a hairstylist, who ended up buzzing my head so I now have a full military-style mohawk. (dont worry, I like it)
So, it was an exciting weekend all in all, and I loved getting off on my own for a bit. This is, of course, a good thing becuase I will be leaving June 1 for a month of hiking on my own.
I turned in the last of my Trabajos today, and it felt awesome to have that intense part of my semester behind me. I dont know that I have written that intensely in English in many semesters. 5 pages for History, 8 pages for Lit, 11 pages for Theology and finally 7 pages for Dialectology, all within about two weeks. Now I have a couple days of class and then exams... But WAIT!!! Along with the relief of handing in papers today, I was told that several of our profs will be participating in the national education strike (Huelga! Huelga!) tomorrow, so my schedule is extremely diminished. Cool!
On a business note, the University asks me to remind everyone NOT to send me anything after tomorrow (the 20th) because I will not be around to get it. And from my end, I BEG of you all NOT to send me any large emails within the next month or so. I will be hiking from small city to small city in the northern part of Spain, and I anticipate that I will only get to my email every once in a while. But DO feel free to send up a few prayers for me along my pilgrimage. And I probably have a couple more "updates" in my system before all is said and done.
To all the Seniors on my list, I was thinking today about how much I am going to miss everyone, and seriously will think of you often next year as we all scramble to fill your shoes. I would not be the person I am today if it wasnt for a large number of upper-classmen that have touched my life in very profound ways these last two years. If you havent done so already, please send me your updated email info for when Emarq boots you.
Otherwise, the city is all geeked up for the Royal Wedding this weekend, and it should be an interesting piece of histoy to be here for. And I am gearing up for my big hike and return to the States. This experience has been incredible, but likewise it will be incredible to be home.
All my love to all,
Christian
“Fifty years ago today, nine judges announced that they had looked at the Constitution and saw no justification for the segregation and humiliation of an entire race,” Bush said May 17 praising the activist court of the 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education decision. Hmmm... isnt retropect nice??
Sunday, May 09, 2004
SOOooo many blessings (emails from abroad)
Hey you guys,
I dont have too much time to send emails, because I want to call some of the mothers in my life, but I wanted to share the last couple weeks with all of you.
First of all, thank you all for the emails, cards, BROWNIES and such that were sent for my birthday. I know I am being lax on my thank-you notes, but I wanted to let everyone know just how blessed I felt on my birthday to have so many who love me. Believe me, it is reciprocated. I learned a lot about myself on this birthday, and in that I think it was quite a success turning 22.
I spent last weekend exploring Lisbon and the cities around it. Lisbon is not the most classical of European cities, and has almost no artwork of fame, but it had a very pleasant charm to it. I ended up being joined by a friend for the trip, and we got to go up into the mountains, down to the beach, and just enjoy a fairly relaxing weekend. I did, however, decide that Portugese is my least favorite of languages. Why dont you jushhht shhhpeak Shhhpanishhhhh? (they add very nasty syllables to otherwise lovely Spanish words) But the people were among the most pleasant I have encountered in all of Europe, and it was a fairly cheap trip (way to take advantage of a failing economy!)
I had my interview for the columnist spot for the Marquette Tribune right before I left, and I always hate phone interviews, made worse by the use of a one-way speaker phone, but I was waiting to hear back on that. I ended up not getting the spot, because they already have a liberal columnist, and adding me to the mix would make the paper a liberal power-house. But the blessing comes in that my roommate, Will, who is one of my best friends, got the spot. See... I suppose being conservative isnt all bad. Even the Tribune needs some wackos to give it balance. I am extremely pleased that if I couldnt do it, my best friend could. Awesome.
Minutes after I talked to Will, I talked to a guy that I have been helping deal with "closet issues" for the last couple of semesters. Long story short, this kid has had to face a lot of very strong, close-minded religious upbringing. Well, he is finally comfortable enough to tell his family, and to hear the calm joy in his voice from the burden that had been lifted from him. The fear of his family's rejection was intense. Well, I got a call at 4:30am today, and everything had turned out okay. Any of you who know who I am talking about will rejoice in this with me, because this guy is truly a gift, and I am so pleased that his family continues to see that. Thank God!
Then, I talked to my little sister, who kicked butt on not one, but two AP tests this week. She is getting ready for her first prom, a jazz concert that her choir will be singing "It's Raining Men" (my theme song), and the end of her semester. But along with being one of the best writers I have encountered in a while, she told me that two of my best-est friends in the world (there's good writing for you) will be in Traverse City the same time I will be this summer. God fills my life with such joy!
I am finally having to do some academic work right now, working on about 4 papers due next week. Not too much to whine about however, I just finished one 8-pager on a book I have yet to read. And the sad part? It sounds more intelligent than if I had perhaps read it.
Okay, I have a date to run to and some wonderful women to call. Hugs to all,
Christian
I dont have too much time to send emails, because I want to call some of the mothers in my life, but I wanted to share the last couple weeks with all of you.
First of all, thank you all for the emails, cards, BROWNIES and such that were sent for my birthday. I know I am being lax on my thank-you notes, but I wanted to let everyone know just how blessed I felt on my birthday to have so many who love me. Believe me, it is reciprocated. I learned a lot about myself on this birthday, and in that I think it was quite a success turning 22.
I spent last weekend exploring Lisbon and the cities around it. Lisbon is not the most classical of European cities, and has almost no artwork of fame, but it had a very pleasant charm to it. I ended up being joined by a friend for the trip, and we got to go up into the mountains, down to the beach, and just enjoy a fairly relaxing weekend. I did, however, decide that Portugese is my least favorite of languages. Why dont you jushhht shhhpeak Shhhpanishhhhh? (they add very nasty syllables to otherwise lovely Spanish words) But the people were among the most pleasant I have encountered in all of Europe, and it was a fairly cheap trip (way to take advantage of a failing economy!)
I had my interview for the columnist spot for the Marquette Tribune right before I left, and I always hate phone interviews, made worse by the use of a one-way speaker phone, but I was waiting to hear back on that. I ended up not getting the spot, because they already have a liberal columnist, and adding me to the mix would make the paper a liberal power-house. But the blessing comes in that my roommate, Will, who is one of my best friends, got the spot. See... I suppose being conservative isnt all bad. Even the Tribune needs some wackos to give it balance. I am extremely pleased that if I couldnt do it, my best friend could. Awesome.
Minutes after I talked to Will, I talked to a guy that I have been helping deal with "closet issues" for the last couple of semesters. Long story short, this kid has had to face a lot of very strong, close-minded religious upbringing. Well, he is finally comfortable enough to tell his family, and to hear the calm joy in his voice from the burden that had been lifted from him. The fear of his family's rejection was intense. Well, I got a call at 4:30am today, and everything had turned out okay. Any of you who know who I am talking about will rejoice in this with me, because this guy is truly a gift, and I am so pleased that his family continues to see that. Thank God!
Then, I talked to my little sister, who kicked butt on not one, but two AP tests this week. She is getting ready for her first prom, a jazz concert that her choir will be singing "It's Raining Men" (my theme song), and the end of her semester. But along with being one of the best writers I have encountered in a while, she told me that two of my best-est friends in the world (there's good writing for you) will be in Traverse City the same time I will be this summer. God fills my life with such joy!
I am finally having to do some academic work right now, working on about 4 papers due next week. Not too much to whine about however, I just finished one 8-pager on a book I have yet to read. And the sad part? It sounds more intelligent than if I had perhaps read it.
Okay, I have a date to run to and some wonderful women to call. Hugs to all,
Christian
Monday, April 26, 2004
"That's SO Spanish!" (emails from abroad)
Dear friends,
Was my last email short? This will make up for it, in case any of ya'll were saddened. Some of you may be surprised to be getting an email, given my plans for a vacation weekend in the Canary Islands for my birthday. Unfortunately, this trip didn’t end up happening at all.
The circumstances of this have caused me to rave like a bit of a lunatic, and I thought I would share with you the feeling of culture shock that just now has hit. The theme of the weekend has seemed to be, "That's SO Spanish!" (side note: I love Spain, Spaniards, and the culture here... this is just me venting a bit of my frustration for the purpose of humor. laugh damnit!)
I stood in Barajas Airport, with bag in hand, ready to check in, a proper 1:30 hours before my flight, sweaty from the heat and the crowded metro, and tired from a very limited amount of sleep the night before ("That's SO Spanish!"). The ticket agent looks up my name, and brings up nothing. We try my legal name. We try my nickname. We try the initials on my credit card. We try my middle name. Nothing. I hold up the paper copy of my confirmation to show her I have a flight, and she shrugs, "You have to go to sales. Maybe they can tell you more." I walk across to the other side of the gallery and the man at the sales desk tells me my ticket was canceled. "Some problem with the internet transaction. It got cancelled automatically 24 hours after you booked the flight." I point to my printed confirmation. He shrugs. Apparently this means nothing to him... I keep asking for some sort of concession so I can enjoy the birthday trip on the beach that I have long been looking forward to. He smiles and offers me a one-way ticket for 300€. Hmmm. That’s not gonna work. "NEXT" he shouts...
"That's SO Spanish!"
Being extremely frustrated, I sit down, thoroughly angered and confused, and decide that I need to investigate other travel measures for the weekend. I walk to an information station, where I find out that the busses have gone on strike (That's SO Spanish!") and train travel is extremely expensive because of added security since the attacks, and extra crowded because there are no buses. Looks like I am sticking around Madrid.
Granted, it has been a gorgeous weekend, and I made my mind up to enjoy myself thoroughly, and further ignore the work that is heading my way with the end of the semester. I have picked up the 4th Harry Potter book, which is like offering your brain crack: it only wants more. So I took to the public parks for 4 days in a row, enjoying the most fabulous sun I have seen in a long time. I have also seen some of the most extreme use of PDA (public displays of affection) I believe is legal (some that shouldnt be).
Actually, PDA doesn’t quite describe what is going on. My friends Katie and Erin have decided that we are going to call it "hoovering." I often wonder if I am watching a display of CPR gone horridly wrong. "Should I jump in and help, because he definitely isn’t doing the chest compressions right...?" Since most Spaniards live with their parents until they are 35 (on average), they like to get it on in public spaces. Ever seen a couple walking and kissing at the same time? I still have to work on chewing gum. (while walking... not while kissing) "That's SO Spanish!"
And, why don't Spaniards get out of their parents' basements sooner? Well, most complain about a housing shortage. I usually respond saying that it took me all of three days to find a great apartment (although my landlord is un gillipolla). It actually has much more to do with their dislike of the working class. I guarantee that of the students in our academic building, of those who have EVER held jobs, 95% of them would be the American students. I have a friend who wonders at the fact that I can get into a number of clubs for free and without waiting in line, and that the bartenders often hook me up. That may have something to do with the fact that I look them in the eye and know their names. That is unheard of. Sooo, if they hate working blue collar, and wait to graduate college to get a job, hmmm... can't imagine why they are still at home.
And finally, I was out buying a couple shirts to expand my summer wardrobe, we'll call them birthday gifts, (aka "If I can't go on an island trip, I’m buying some clothes damnit!") And I went into a shop featuring a display of buttons. Among them one that read, "F%*k America." I calmly walked around the store for about a half hour, picking up about 300-400€ worth of merchandise, and as the clerks were really starting to dote on me, I saddled up to the register, put the clothes on the counter, and they started to ring me up. Only then did I pretend to see the button for the first time.
"What is this?" I asked. "How would it be appropriate if the roles were switched, and you were in my country? Would you not consider it ill-educated and ignorant?" The shop clerks kinda just brushed me off ("That's SO Spanish!") I stopped the man who was ringing me up, and told him I wanted the button. He said "Sure," and went to add it to the other things. I corrected him. "No, I JUST want the button." He paled. I paid 1€ for the button, and threw it into the garbage right there as they all stared at me. I turned on my uppity heel, and walked out. That is perhaps the most blatantly patriotic I have ever been.
So these were some of my very Spanish experiences, ones that are wonderful if for no other reason than the laughter they inspire. I am increasingly getting ready to be back to my life stateside. After registering for classes, applying for a columnist spot at the Tribune, applying, receiving and turning down another campus job, and winning the Gay/Straight Alliance Presidency (yeah!!!) my head has been re-centered in Milwaukee. I am enjoying every moment here, but it now feels much more like an extended vacation rather than an immersion experience. That’s cool, I can enjoy the vacation, and feel I have been thoroughly immersed (submerged?) in the culture. I love it, but it is not mine.
Next weekend Portugal and then heading back to Barcelona, Manresa, then finals... Much fun!
All my love my friends, hope all is well in the cities I miss!
Christian
Was my last email short? This will make up for it, in case any of ya'll were saddened. Some of you may be surprised to be getting an email, given my plans for a vacation weekend in the Canary Islands for my birthday. Unfortunately, this trip didn’t end up happening at all.
The circumstances of this have caused me to rave like a bit of a lunatic, and I thought I would share with you the feeling of culture shock that just now has hit. The theme of the weekend has seemed to be, "That's SO Spanish!" (side note: I love Spain, Spaniards, and the culture here... this is just me venting a bit of my frustration for the purpose of humor. laugh damnit!)
I stood in Barajas Airport, with bag in hand, ready to check in, a proper 1:30 hours before my flight, sweaty from the heat and the crowded metro, and tired from a very limited amount of sleep the night before ("That's SO Spanish!"). The ticket agent looks up my name, and brings up nothing. We try my legal name. We try my nickname. We try the initials on my credit card. We try my middle name. Nothing. I hold up the paper copy of my confirmation to show her I have a flight, and she shrugs, "You have to go to sales. Maybe they can tell you more." I walk across to the other side of the gallery and the man at the sales desk tells me my ticket was canceled. "Some problem with the internet transaction. It got cancelled automatically 24 hours after you booked the flight." I point to my printed confirmation. He shrugs. Apparently this means nothing to him... I keep asking for some sort of concession so I can enjoy the birthday trip on the beach that I have long been looking forward to. He smiles and offers me a one-way ticket for 300€. Hmmm. That’s not gonna work. "NEXT" he shouts...
"That's SO Spanish!"
Being extremely frustrated, I sit down, thoroughly angered and confused, and decide that I need to investigate other travel measures for the weekend. I walk to an information station, where I find out that the busses have gone on strike (That's SO Spanish!") and train travel is extremely expensive because of added security since the attacks, and extra crowded because there are no buses. Looks like I am sticking around Madrid.
Granted, it has been a gorgeous weekend, and I made my mind up to enjoy myself thoroughly, and further ignore the work that is heading my way with the end of the semester. I have picked up the 4th Harry Potter book, which is like offering your brain crack: it only wants more. So I took to the public parks for 4 days in a row, enjoying the most fabulous sun I have seen in a long time. I have also seen some of the most extreme use of PDA (public displays of affection) I believe is legal (some that shouldnt be).
Actually, PDA doesn’t quite describe what is going on. My friends Katie and Erin have decided that we are going to call it "hoovering." I often wonder if I am watching a display of CPR gone horridly wrong. "Should I jump in and help, because he definitely isn’t doing the chest compressions right...?" Since most Spaniards live with their parents until they are 35 (on average), they like to get it on in public spaces. Ever seen a couple walking and kissing at the same time? I still have to work on chewing gum. (while walking... not while kissing) "That's SO Spanish!"
And, why don't Spaniards get out of their parents' basements sooner? Well, most complain about a housing shortage. I usually respond saying that it took me all of three days to find a great apartment (although my landlord is un gillipolla). It actually has much more to do with their dislike of the working class. I guarantee that of the students in our academic building, of those who have EVER held jobs, 95% of them would be the American students. I have a friend who wonders at the fact that I can get into a number of clubs for free and without waiting in line, and that the bartenders often hook me up. That may have something to do with the fact that I look them in the eye and know their names. That is unheard of. Sooo, if they hate working blue collar, and wait to graduate college to get a job, hmmm... can't imagine why they are still at home.
And finally, I was out buying a couple shirts to expand my summer wardrobe, we'll call them birthday gifts, (aka "If I can't go on an island trip, I’m buying some clothes damnit!") And I went into a shop featuring a display of buttons. Among them one that read, "F%*k America." I calmly walked around the store for about a half hour, picking up about 300-400€ worth of merchandise, and as the clerks were really starting to dote on me, I saddled up to the register, put the clothes on the counter, and they started to ring me up. Only then did I pretend to see the button for the first time.
"What is this?" I asked. "How would it be appropriate if the roles were switched, and you were in my country? Would you not consider it ill-educated and ignorant?" The shop clerks kinda just brushed me off ("That's SO Spanish!") I stopped the man who was ringing me up, and told him I wanted the button. He said "Sure," and went to add it to the other things. I corrected him. "No, I JUST want the button." He paled. I paid 1€ for the button, and threw it into the garbage right there as they all stared at me. I turned on my uppity heel, and walked out. That is perhaps the most blatantly patriotic I have ever been.
So these were some of my very Spanish experiences, ones that are wonderful if for no other reason than the laughter they inspire. I am increasingly getting ready to be back to my life stateside. After registering for classes, applying for a columnist spot at the Tribune, applying, receiving and turning down another campus job, and winning the Gay/Straight Alliance Presidency (yeah!!!) my head has been re-centered in Milwaukee. I am enjoying every moment here, but it now feels much more like an extended vacation rather than an immersion experience. That’s cool, I can enjoy the vacation, and feel I have been thoroughly immersed (submerged?) in the culture. I love it, but it is not mine.
Next weekend Portugal and then heading back to Barcelona, Manresa, then finals... Much fun!
All my love my friends, hope all is well in the cities I miss!
Christian
Monday, April 19, 2004
Marathon Traveling (emails from abroad)
Hey there Folks--
There is SO much to say, and I dont know how to even begin it properly. Since the last time I wrote, I have visited Paris and London with my wonderful family, and then Venice, Florence, Rome and Pompeii with my friends. I saw some of the most incredible artwork of my life, and we had many many adventures. Details would become devastatingly long, but just know that I had an incredible time, and am now back in Madrid, just for the time being.
This upcoming weekend I am going to the Canary Islands for a bit of fun-in-the-sun, and then off to Portugal the weekend after that. Then with only three weeks left in school, I still have a weekend in Barcelona (I LOVE that city) and a couple papers to focus on. Then I come pretty much to the end of May. SCARY!!! My time here is wrapping up pretty quickly, so I am all the more thankful that I have some reflection time in June during a spiritual pilgrimage. But all-in-all, I am in the home stretch now. I will be back state-side on June 28th, and then I get to see about making some money!
Since I am skipping through much of my travels, this will actually be one of my shortest updates, but I dont think I am going to hear any complaints. Life is good, time is short, and I am going back outside to enjoy the day. Love to all,
Christian
There is SO much to say, and I dont know how to even begin it properly. Since the last time I wrote, I have visited Paris and London with my wonderful family, and then Venice, Florence, Rome and Pompeii with my friends. I saw some of the most incredible artwork of my life, and we had many many adventures. Details would become devastatingly long, but just know that I had an incredible time, and am now back in Madrid, just for the time being.
This upcoming weekend I am going to the Canary Islands for a bit of fun-in-the-sun, and then off to Portugal the weekend after that. Then with only three weeks left in school, I still have a weekend in Barcelona (I LOVE that city) and a couple papers to focus on. Then I come pretty much to the end of May. SCARY!!! My time here is wrapping up pretty quickly, so I am all the more thankful that I have some reflection time in June during a spiritual pilgrimage. But all-in-all, I am in the home stretch now. I will be back state-side on June 28th, and then I get to see about making some money!
Since I am skipping through much of my travels, this will actually be one of my shortest updates, but I dont think I am going to hear any complaints. Life is good, time is short, and I am going back outside to enjoy the day. Love to all,
Christian
Thursday, March 25, 2004
Buleria Buleria (emails from abroad)
Hey all!!
It is I once again, sending a message that is hopefully a bit more upbeat than my last update. Life here has been progressively been returning to normal, thank God, and I am back to enjoying my time here whole-heartedly.
After three days of mourning that was both profound and intense, we all had to go back to our mid-terms, which I finished up today. With only 4 subjects, one would think that I would be able to really focus on what I have. (is anyone else laughing yet?) Let's just say that I am getting a "cultural education" more than anything else though. I'm just glad that I have a Dad (and a scholarship advisor) that lets me get away with that. :-)
Last week was a bit of a doosy, in that the Tribune quoted me out of context, and I had to put out some major fires because of that. Damn. Then I went to go talk to a local priest, and he started to say some really vile things about gay people and such, and I couldnt stand up to him, so I was in a very anti-church mood for about a week. But yesterday I got an email from my Spiritual Director that put everything in perspective. "He's an idiot. Dont listen to him." Something sooo simple really worked to make me feel worlds better.
Last weekend our program took us on a divinely timed trip down south to the magical city of Granada. There we saw the burial sites of the Catholic Kings, Ferdinand and Isabella, and the Alhambra, led by the quirky, faux-fur (aka carpet) wearing local guide Carmen. Then we went to a site to watch Flamenco. The mini-bus ride there was led by an Argentinean who terrified all of us ripping around the ancient Muslim streets. It was actually quite entertaining to see my life wiz by my eyes so quickly: I’ve had a fun life!
The actual Flamenco took place in a narrow cave, with the spectators lining the walls, and the dancers in the center, literally inches away from our tender tootsies with their hard-wood heels. The best part was a woman had to be 70 years old who got up and "got her Flamenco-groove on" (in the words of a friend)
I have been a slug the last couple days, preparing (hah) for my last exam and visiting the Royal Palace (cool weapons collection) and getting ready for my big travelling stint this weekend. I feel as though I am saying goodbye to many of my Spanish friends because tonight is the last night I am going to see them in three weeks! Wow. It may be hard to leave this place.
Tomorrow, I meet up with Dad and Carey in Paris. I cannot describe how stoked I am to see them. I recently re-cut the mohawk, so you'll all have to ask them what they thought. After a few days hopping around Paris (Carey wants me to teach her to dance... we're gonna have a blast! two lanky white Eichenlaubs in Paris) we are going to London for a couple days. After that, they fly back home, and the 4th I fly to Italy to spend Holy Week there with some girlfriends. All in all, I wont be back in Madrid until April 13th. Im sure I'll have much to write about then.
I simply cannot believe that I am this far through this experience. While I long for my family and friends back home, and the University I love, I am going to relish every moment left of this time. Looking toward home, I am currently running for President of the Gay Straight Alliance. How, you ask? Through wonderful supportive friends. I am also thinking about applying to be a columnist next year for the Tribune, the school paper. I have all my classes figured out, and so I guess I am ready now for my Senior year. (very scary)
So, I guess that is it for now,
As I will be travelling, I will not be able to check my email for a good amount of time. I will be in contact when I get back.
Blessings,
Christian
"And if I was perfect, I wouldnt need mercy, I wouldnt need God. When will I learn to accept my mistakes? When will I learn to accept your grace?" Jars of Clay
It is I once again, sending a message that is hopefully a bit more upbeat than my last update. Life here has been progressively been returning to normal, thank God, and I am back to enjoying my time here whole-heartedly.
After three days of mourning that was both profound and intense, we all had to go back to our mid-terms, which I finished up today. With only 4 subjects, one would think that I would be able to really focus on what I have. (is anyone else laughing yet?) Let's just say that I am getting a "cultural education" more than anything else though. I'm just glad that I have a Dad (and a scholarship advisor) that lets me get away with that. :-)
Last week was a bit of a doosy, in that the Tribune quoted me out of context, and I had to put out some major fires because of that. Damn. Then I went to go talk to a local priest, and he started to say some really vile things about gay people and such, and I couldnt stand up to him, so I was in a very anti-church mood for about a week. But yesterday I got an email from my Spiritual Director that put everything in perspective. "He's an idiot. Dont listen to him." Something sooo simple really worked to make me feel worlds better.
Last weekend our program took us on a divinely timed trip down south to the magical city of Granada. There we saw the burial sites of the Catholic Kings, Ferdinand and Isabella, and the Alhambra, led by the quirky, faux-fur (aka carpet) wearing local guide Carmen. Then we went to a site to watch Flamenco. The mini-bus ride there was led by an Argentinean who terrified all of us ripping around the ancient Muslim streets. It was actually quite entertaining to see my life wiz by my eyes so quickly: I’ve had a fun life!
The actual Flamenco took place in a narrow cave, with the spectators lining the walls, and the dancers in the center, literally inches away from our tender tootsies with their hard-wood heels. The best part was a woman had to be 70 years old who got up and "got her Flamenco-groove on" (in the words of a friend)
I have been a slug the last couple days, preparing (hah) for my last exam and visiting the Royal Palace (cool weapons collection) and getting ready for my big travelling stint this weekend. I feel as though I am saying goodbye to many of my Spanish friends because tonight is the last night I am going to see them in three weeks! Wow. It may be hard to leave this place.
Tomorrow, I meet up with Dad and Carey in Paris. I cannot describe how stoked I am to see them. I recently re-cut the mohawk, so you'll all have to ask them what they thought. After a few days hopping around Paris (Carey wants me to teach her to dance... we're gonna have a blast! two lanky white Eichenlaubs in Paris) we are going to London for a couple days. After that, they fly back home, and the 4th I fly to Italy to spend Holy Week there with some girlfriends. All in all, I wont be back in Madrid until April 13th. Im sure I'll have much to write about then.
I simply cannot believe that I am this far through this experience. While I long for my family and friends back home, and the University I love, I am going to relish every moment left of this time. Looking toward home, I am currently running for President of the Gay Straight Alliance. How, you ask? Through wonderful supportive friends. I am also thinking about applying to be a columnist next year for the Tribune, the school paper. I have all my classes figured out, and so I guess I am ready now for my Senior year. (very scary)
So, I guess that is it for now,
As I will be travelling, I will not be able to check my email for a good amount of time. I will be in contact when I get back.
Blessings,
Christian
"And if I was perfect, I wouldnt need mercy, I wouldnt need God. When will I learn to accept my mistakes? When will I learn to accept your grace?" Jars of Clay
Thursday, March 18, 2004
regarding our converstaion yesterday (letter to the A&S Dean after Madrid bombings
Dean XXXXXXXX,
Below is a (slightly) edited version of the original letter. It is still a bit more angry than I am completely comfortable with, but the facts and concerns remain the same. Again, please let me know if I can help to make positive changes in any way with this process,
Christian
Dear Dean XXXXXXX,
I write this letter in regards to my telephone conversation with you yesterday, in further hopes that our overseas programs can live up to the integrity of what Marquette would call them to be. Again, this comes not just from me, but about ten other students who were willing to sign this letter (or some form of it) so that it could be seen that improvements are indeed called for. I would also ask you to regard this letter as private information, and not share it directly with the director, with OR without my name.
Because of the attacks here in Madrid this last week, several faults have been noted by many of the students here, and I believe that they are solvable problems. In the mindset of Cura Personalis, it is my belief that Marquette should put every effort forth to insure the comfort of students in times of tragedy, much as we saw on our campus after the 9/11 attacks.
First and foremost, the day of the attacks, an administrator at Marquette called our parents and told them that we had all been accounted for. While this was a wonderful touch on the part of the university, at that point several students had yet to have any contact with the director of the program. There was no way that he could know that we were safe and accounted for. At least one student who lived in that area of the attack, assures me that she had NO contact with the program, the university or the director that day. The university should be extremely concerned about this action in particular. This is both ethically and legally dangerous.
The second complaint that I believe needs to be recognized was the apparent lack of emergency protocol for the director of this program. For this reason I believe that Public Safety needs to be consulted for our international programs. Very little was said or done to consol students about their own safety and the emotional impact of the events. This could stem from the fact that the director is a trained professor, and not a long-term professional administrator. Without any protocol to turn to, he was just as shocked as the rest of us.
The most concrete example of this is that there was no group communication up until Saturday when a group email was sent out planning a discussion of the events for Monday. Several students had requested this meeting on Thursday, and again on Friday. This meeting should have been IMMEDIATE, to help students assess their own safety concerns and comprehend what was happening in the situation around them. Should we have been taking the metro? Was it still safe to go to the soccer game that MU had bought tickets for? Was it safe to go to the peace rallies? All of these concerns were brushed off on an individual basis, leaving students very confused and anxious with the state of affairs. And as is well known in these circumstances, the more anxious a situation, the more stressful it becomes, and the more dangerous.
With no guidance, several students went to the peace rallies, although that was the one thing the Embassy warned against (information found out through individual students, not the program). Students also continued to use the metro system up until another bomb was called in. Both these actions put students in danger. Both could have been averted by a meeting with the group explaining the current dangers and investigating student concerns.
The director was also ill-informed about what was actually happening at the university were we have classes. Classes were canceled Friday, the day after the class, but apparently our director was the LAST person to know about it. He claimed that we definitely did have class, causing much confusion. Part of this is that he does not come to work until about 10:15 every day. While he claims that no-one knew about the decision to cancel classes until 9am, it was in the newspapers that morning, and every other program seemed to be well informed (part of that may be the result that they come to work at 9am, when classes start). The emotional strain of this situation should not be down-played. Waiting around a near-empty University the day after a terrorist attack for your director to wander in produces a certain amount of anxiety.
It should also be noted that within the country, the director should know that email is not a productive mode of communication for urgent events. Because of the sporadic availability of email to students, phone contact would seem much more appropriate. However, very few students have had any contact from the director by means other than the group email mentioned above. Although the director is accessable to us if we call him, I feel the initiative should be taken in this situation by the director to call each and every one of the students. American students from most of the other university programs who I talked to all received at LEAST one call from their directors. So much for BE THE DIFFERENCE.
When we finally did meet with the director on Monday, the discussion was purely academic, focusing on the facts, events and the consequences. There was NO overview of security status or advice (although the embassy had then changed Madrid to a “danger zone”). Never, at any point, did the director ask, “What do you need?” In my limited knowledge of emergency situations, this seems to be the FIRST thing required, so that needs can then be assessed. There was also no discussion of the emotional or spiritual aspects of these attacks. Students were told to see him privately if they would like to speak over such issues. I need not point out that the comfort of group solidarity is simply not present in that sort of situation.
Finally, and perhaps most personally important, is the lack of spiritual guidance and counseling available to the students of this program. As a Jesuit program, I would like to see a priest involved in some area of our activities over here. Many of the students of this program are extremely reliant on there faith (myself included), and it is harder than it sounds to walk into an unfamiliar church and ask for someone to talk to in a foreign language, about events as emotionally profound as these. Ideally, it would be wonderful to have one of the local Jesuits as a spiritual-liaison to the program. The effects of this would be felt throughout the program, which I feel has lost some bearing on what it means to be part of a Jesuit institution.
It is my hope that these complaints have illustrated enough reason to implement some sort of emergency protocol for ALL Marquette study-abroad programs, and review the administrative training given to the directors of those programs. In that the threat of terrorism does not seem to be going away, it seems that it is now more important to rectify these gaps in training and preparedness.
Again, I would like to make this as constructive as possible, so if you have any questions for me, please feel free to ask either by the email address above, or at my number in Spain (34)660-XXX-XXX.
In the hopes that this situation will never again need to be dealt with,
Christian Eichenlaub
Below is a (slightly) edited version of the original letter. It is still a bit more angry than I am completely comfortable with, but the facts and concerns remain the same. Again, please let me know if I can help to make positive changes in any way with this process,
Christian
Dear Dean XXXXXXX,
I write this letter in regards to my telephone conversation with you yesterday, in further hopes that our overseas programs can live up to the integrity of what Marquette would call them to be. Again, this comes not just from me, but about ten other students who were willing to sign this letter (or some form of it) so that it could be seen that improvements are indeed called for. I would also ask you to regard this letter as private information, and not share it directly with the director, with OR without my name.
Because of the attacks here in Madrid this last week, several faults have been noted by many of the students here, and I believe that they are solvable problems. In the mindset of Cura Personalis, it is my belief that Marquette should put every effort forth to insure the comfort of students in times of tragedy, much as we saw on our campus after the 9/11 attacks.
First and foremost, the day of the attacks, an administrator at Marquette called our parents and told them that we had all been accounted for. While this was a wonderful touch on the part of the university, at that point several students had yet to have any contact with the director of the program. There was no way that he could know that we were safe and accounted for. At least one student who lived in that area of the attack, assures me that she had NO contact with the program, the university or the director that day. The university should be extremely concerned about this action in particular. This is both ethically and legally dangerous.
The second complaint that I believe needs to be recognized was the apparent lack of emergency protocol for the director of this program. For this reason I believe that Public Safety needs to be consulted for our international programs. Very little was said or done to consol students about their own safety and the emotional impact of the events. This could stem from the fact that the director is a trained professor, and not a long-term professional administrator. Without any protocol to turn to, he was just as shocked as the rest of us.
The most concrete example of this is that there was no group communication up until Saturday when a group email was sent out planning a discussion of the events for Monday. Several students had requested this meeting on Thursday, and again on Friday. This meeting should have been IMMEDIATE, to help students assess their own safety concerns and comprehend what was happening in the situation around them. Should we have been taking the metro? Was it still safe to go to the soccer game that MU had bought tickets for? Was it safe to go to the peace rallies? All of these concerns were brushed off on an individual basis, leaving students very confused and anxious with the state of affairs. And as is well known in these circumstances, the more anxious a situation, the more stressful it becomes, and the more dangerous.
With no guidance, several students went to the peace rallies, although that was the one thing the Embassy warned against (information found out through individual students, not the program). Students also continued to use the metro system up until another bomb was called in. Both these actions put students in danger. Both could have been averted by a meeting with the group explaining the current dangers and investigating student concerns.
The director was also ill-informed about what was actually happening at the university were we have classes. Classes were canceled Friday, the day after the class, but apparently our director was the LAST person to know about it. He claimed that we definitely did have class, causing much confusion. Part of this is that he does not come to work until about 10:15 every day. While he claims that no-one knew about the decision to cancel classes until 9am, it was in the newspapers that morning, and every other program seemed to be well informed (part of that may be the result that they come to work at 9am, when classes start). The emotional strain of this situation should not be down-played. Waiting around a near-empty University the day after a terrorist attack for your director to wander in produces a certain amount of anxiety.
It should also be noted that within the country, the director should know that email is not a productive mode of communication for urgent events. Because of the sporadic availability of email to students, phone contact would seem much more appropriate. However, very few students have had any contact from the director by means other than the group email mentioned above. Although the director is accessable to us if we call him, I feel the initiative should be taken in this situation by the director to call each and every one of the students. American students from most of the other university programs who I talked to all received at LEAST one call from their directors. So much for BE THE DIFFERENCE.
When we finally did meet with the director on Monday, the discussion was purely academic, focusing on the facts, events and the consequences. There was NO overview of security status or advice (although the embassy had then changed Madrid to a “danger zone”). Never, at any point, did the director ask, “What do you need?” In my limited knowledge of emergency situations, this seems to be the FIRST thing required, so that needs can then be assessed. There was also no discussion of the emotional or spiritual aspects of these attacks. Students were told to see him privately if they would like to speak over such issues. I need not point out that the comfort of group solidarity is simply not present in that sort of situation.
Finally, and perhaps most personally important, is the lack of spiritual guidance and counseling available to the students of this program. As a Jesuit program, I would like to see a priest involved in some area of our activities over here. Many of the students of this program are extremely reliant on there faith (myself included), and it is harder than it sounds to walk into an unfamiliar church and ask for someone to talk to in a foreign language, about events as emotionally profound as these. Ideally, it would be wonderful to have one of the local Jesuits as a spiritual-liaison to the program. The effects of this would be felt throughout the program, which I feel has lost some bearing on what it means to be part of a Jesuit institution.
It is my hope that these complaints have illustrated enough reason to implement some sort of emergency protocol for ALL Marquette study-abroad programs, and review the administrative training given to the directors of those programs. In that the threat of terrorism does not seem to be going away, it seems that it is now more important to rectify these gaps in training and preparedness.
Again, I would like to make this as constructive as possible, so if you have any questions for me, please feel free to ask either by the email address above, or at my number in Spain (34)660-XXX-XXX.
In the hopes that this situation will never again need to be dealt with,
Christian Eichenlaub
Friday, March 12, 2004
When the laughter dies (emails from abroad)
Dearest Friends,
I write to you primarily to relate to you that I am indeed safe, healthy, and extremely thankful right now for both those things. There is no need to worry about me. (any more than normal)
I also wish to communicate the first hand emotions of this tragedy. This will probably be the most profoundly sad of my memories here in Spain. We seek consolation and there is simply none to be had for an act this devastating.
Classes were cancelled today. We all sat on the floor and tried to comprehend what had happened to our joyful Spain, our exuberant Madrid. So full of life, bustling with an energy and zest of which I have never seen the like. And to see that energy forced into a conversion to solidarity in grief, a solidarity that quieted an entire metropolis for five minutes today at noon, is one of the most prominent losses I have felt in my young life. The streets that normally bustle with nightlife stood morbidly empty last night, as I'm sure they will again tonight.
Because I live in a sort of technological hole with neither television nor radio and only occasional internet access, the emotion of the events of 3/11 did not fully hit me until I saw today's newspapers. The numbness of human atrocity that I am familiar with only through 9/11 resurfaced, only this time with an edge of personal fear. This is a city I consider very much my own. This was a place that I have been to many times. The last bomb, found minutes ago, was in a Metro station I had used this morning.
An overwhelming, helpless fear overcomes me. What can I do? What can I say? Pray? My prayers feel altogether too weak to touch my sentiment, too feeble to soothe the pain of so many, too frail to forgive such an atrocity of men.
A few of us laughed. We took to laughter to soothe the rawness that we each felt inside. We had to laugh, otherwise we would dissolve in the salt of our own tears. But it was soon pointed out that our laughter was insulting to Spaniards on a day of such grieving. We are indeed foreigners here, and I respect the need for a healing sadness so encompassing that it covers the country like today's low-hanging stratus clouds.
So what is left? What happens when we have lost our laughter? We cry.
We cry for those who awoke yesterday in love with partners, in arguments with parents, in joy with the pleasure of another God-given day, only to be ripped from this world so furiously we all question our humanity.
We cry for those who no longer have their parents, lovers, friends, children, because we know how many have touched our own lives, and how horrendous it would be to have one, just one, of those threads torn from our tapestry of friendships, to leave us in ravels.
We cry for those who have lost so much of their human consciousness so as to be able to commit such an act. We cry that these people exist all over the world.
But we also cry in the bittersweet fact that although so much is lost, mush is also found in the Promise of our Lord. Those who died in faith will continue to live in faith. But we still cry.
I cry.
My friends. You all have blessed me continually in my life, and I am so grateful for you all. Please keep me and all those affected by this tragedy in your thoughts and prayers. I send you all my love, and hope for a better world through forgiveness,
Christian
I write to you primarily to relate to you that I am indeed safe, healthy, and extremely thankful right now for both those things. There is no need to worry about me. (any more than normal)
I also wish to communicate the first hand emotions of this tragedy. This will probably be the most profoundly sad of my memories here in Spain. We seek consolation and there is simply none to be had for an act this devastating.
Classes were cancelled today. We all sat on the floor and tried to comprehend what had happened to our joyful Spain, our exuberant Madrid. So full of life, bustling with an energy and zest of which I have never seen the like. And to see that energy forced into a conversion to solidarity in grief, a solidarity that quieted an entire metropolis for five minutes today at noon, is one of the most prominent losses I have felt in my young life. The streets that normally bustle with nightlife stood morbidly empty last night, as I'm sure they will again tonight.
Because I live in a sort of technological hole with neither television nor radio and only occasional internet access, the emotion of the events of 3/11 did not fully hit me until I saw today's newspapers. The numbness of human atrocity that I am familiar with only through 9/11 resurfaced, only this time with an edge of personal fear. This is a city I consider very much my own. This was a place that I have been to many times. The last bomb, found minutes ago, was in a Metro station I had used this morning.
An overwhelming, helpless fear overcomes me. What can I do? What can I say? Pray? My prayers feel altogether too weak to touch my sentiment, too feeble to soothe the pain of so many, too frail to forgive such an atrocity of men.
A few of us laughed. We took to laughter to soothe the rawness that we each felt inside. We had to laugh, otherwise we would dissolve in the salt of our own tears. But it was soon pointed out that our laughter was insulting to Spaniards on a day of such grieving. We are indeed foreigners here, and I respect the need for a healing sadness so encompassing that it covers the country like today's low-hanging stratus clouds.
So what is left? What happens when we have lost our laughter? We cry.
We cry for those who awoke yesterday in love with partners, in arguments with parents, in joy with the pleasure of another God-given day, only to be ripped from this world so furiously we all question our humanity.
We cry for those who no longer have their parents, lovers, friends, children, because we know how many have touched our own lives, and how horrendous it would be to have one, just one, of those threads torn from our tapestry of friendships, to leave us in ravels.
We cry for those who have lost so much of their human consciousness so as to be able to commit such an act. We cry that these people exist all over the world.
But we also cry in the bittersweet fact that although so much is lost, mush is also found in the Promise of our Lord. Those who died in faith will continue to live in faith. But we still cry.
I cry.
My friends. You all have blessed me continually in my life, and I am so grateful for you all. Please keep me and all those affected by this tragedy in your thoughts and prayers. I send you all my love, and hope for a better world through forgiveness,
Christian
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
The rules of traveling and such (emails from abroad
Here I am, reporting in again! I have had a phenomenal couple of weeks, and have much to write. (I will try not to make it as long as the last one however)
First off, major claps to my little sis, Carey. I have to brag big-time… This girl is so unbelievable! Not only does she kick so much butt in her classes that she rarely needs to go anymore, and is a social mover/shaker at school, but she walked away from the ACTs (having only finished about 3/4 of the test) with a 30!! For those of you away from academia, that is a pretty damn good score, especially for the first time. Watch out colleges, you’re gonna have to fight for this one!
Not far from the academic scene himself (actually more immersed than any I know) my father is still teaching, and finishing up a Masters program in Education Technology. Believe me, he is working harder than I am right now, fo sho.
As for me, I just got over what the doctor described as an “indeterminate lung infection.” Not much fun, but nothing a little antibiotics couldn’t handle. (that’s a literal translation: penicillina—little penicillin) So, as I am starting to get over this sickness, do I lay low? Ha! You all know me better than that! I decide, no, not to go to a warm Spanish coast, but up into the snowy Sierras (mountains) with my boyfriend. It started off as quite an adventure in a house that had no heat. No prob, we’ll build a fire. But then we discovered there was no water… Okay, we can survive that… Then about midnight, the electricity went out. But I just kept evoking my Boy Scout spirit, and we actually enjoyed ourselves quite a bit (can you believe this guy had never seen snow falling?)
When I got back that night I went with a group of friends to Palacio Galviria, an old Bourbon Palace which has been converted into a disco. Copies of all the original artwork had been put in, and this spot was just amazing! With free entrance passes (it pays to know people) we all had a blast on a late Sunday night.
Last week was pretty uneventful, except that we are all starting to look at mid-terms (I actually started to do some reading!!) which begin this week. I also found an AIDS prevention group that distributes condoms around the bars, and so I am trying to see if I can get involved. Then Friday I stayed out until 7:30 in the morning at COOL, a simply amazing disco with three floors, and unreal lights and music.
The next day, I left for Salamanca with my boy. It is a fascinating city, with incredible history, a lucky frog, and lots of bones of dead saints (a little creepy??). Its main claim to fame is that it has the oldest university in Europe (1240). I must make a confession though. I broke the first (few) rules of traveling:
1) I left Dorey (and my camera) at home. Duh!
2) I went on this trip with shoes I had bought the day before and had stayed out all night before. My feet were KILLING me by noon on Saturday. At least they weren’t heels I suppose. :-)
But now I find myself back in Madrid, actually looking forward to the academic challenge that will be the next couple weeks, then a paid trip to Granada and a RealMadrid soccer game. Fun times.
On a semi-political note, I am attaching a comic that I think is funny, ignore it if you like. Here is also a website for a great photo commentary (pure sentimentalism to be sure) about the San Fran weddings… www.ephemera.org/justly (check out the flash movie... and thanks to the absolute WONDER of a girl who made my day sending this too me)
That’s all from my end for now, Miss ya’ll
Christian
P.S. There are fotos up now if you want to check them out... new ones coming soon too(http://members17.clubphoto.com/christian810649/owner-4f86-1.phtml)
“The only time we waste, are the moments we think we are only.” The Five People You Meet in Heaven
First off, major claps to my little sis, Carey. I have to brag big-time… This girl is so unbelievable! Not only does she kick so much butt in her classes that she rarely needs to go anymore, and is a social mover/shaker at school, but she walked away from the ACTs (having only finished about 3/4 of the test) with a 30!! For those of you away from academia, that is a pretty damn good score, especially for the first time. Watch out colleges, you’re gonna have to fight for this one!
Not far from the academic scene himself (actually more immersed than any I know) my father is still teaching, and finishing up a Masters program in Education Technology. Believe me, he is working harder than I am right now, fo sho.
As for me, I just got over what the doctor described as an “indeterminate lung infection.” Not much fun, but nothing a little antibiotics couldn’t handle. (that’s a literal translation: penicillina—little penicillin) So, as I am starting to get over this sickness, do I lay low? Ha! You all know me better than that! I decide, no, not to go to a warm Spanish coast, but up into the snowy Sierras (mountains) with my boyfriend. It started off as quite an adventure in a house that had no heat. No prob, we’ll build a fire. But then we discovered there was no water… Okay, we can survive that… Then about midnight, the electricity went out. But I just kept evoking my Boy Scout spirit, and we actually enjoyed ourselves quite a bit (can you believe this guy had never seen snow falling?)
When I got back that night I went with a group of friends to Palacio Galviria, an old Bourbon Palace which has been converted into a disco. Copies of all the original artwork had been put in, and this spot was just amazing! With free entrance passes (it pays to know people) we all had a blast on a late Sunday night.
Last week was pretty uneventful, except that we are all starting to look at mid-terms (I actually started to do some reading!!) which begin this week. I also found an AIDS prevention group that distributes condoms around the bars, and so I am trying to see if I can get involved. Then Friday I stayed out until 7:30 in the morning at COOL, a simply amazing disco with three floors, and unreal lights and music.
The next day, I left for Salamanca with my boy. It is a fascinating city, with incredible history, a lucky frog, and lots of bones of dead saints (a little creepy??). Its main claim to fame is that it has the oldest university in Europe (1240). I must make a confession though. I broke the first (few) rules of traveling:
1) I left Dorey (and my camera) at home. Duh!
2) I went on this trip with shoes I had bought the day before and had stayed out all night before. My feet were KILLING me by noon on Saturday. At least they weren’t heels I suppose. :-)
But now I find myself back in Madrid, actually looking forward to the academic challenge that will be the next couple weeks, then a paid trip to Granada and a RealMadrid soccer game. Fun times.
On a semi-political note, I am attaching a comic that I think is funny, ignore it if you like. Here is also a website for a great photo commentary (pure sentimentalism to be sure) about the San Fran weddings… www.ephemera.org/justly (check out the flash movie... and thanks to the absolute WONDER of a girl who made my day sending this too me)
That’s all from my end for now, Miss ya’ll
Christian
P.S. There are fotos up now if you want to check them out... new ones coming soon too(http://members17.clubphoto.com/christian810649/owner-4f86-1.phtml)
“The only time we waste, are the moments we think we are only.” The Five People You Meet in Heaven
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