Today has been a day full of shadow and mystery. This morning when I looked out my window, which usually looks out at the Capitol building. But this particular morning, no capitol. My roommate and I freaked out and turned on CNN to see if something catastrophic had happened. Then we realized A) If something had happened, we definitely would have heard it and B) It was an extremely foggy day.
This mystery has just been the beginning of all the questions to be asked today. The second came when a group came in around lunch time. Will they be eating? Will there be food? And, most importantly, will there be leftovers for the intern? I am still awaiting the results of this. They are still in a meeting behind closed doors, and now, I am distracting myself from the hunger by blogging- as the smell of little sandwiches and soup comes wafting up the stairs and through my office door. I can hear the clanging of dishes, and the growl of my stomach. I am ready to eat.
Another mystery involves the event for which I was primarily hired: The Christmas Party. Rumor has it that it isn't happening anymore. Which saddensm me- severly. I am waiting on the word still, and as soon as I find out- I am buying a new dress. 'Tis the season for looking good.
All these mysteries have taught me to ask questions. Is it annoying? yes. Is it nosy? yes. Do I learn something? yes. I'm tired of being the intern who doesn't know a thing, so I've taken the liberty today of walking around and asking people questions today.
This is how I discovered 2 more mysteries. I saw a woman, created name plates. After investigation, I found out there is a dinner coming up. (Which, of course, I am not invited to). So, case opened, and case closed.
The second mystery is a bit more depressing. All the diplomats in the Embassy belong to Unions, and those Unions are almost definitely going to strike starting Tuesday. Which on one hand is great. I won't have to come in to work!
On the other hand, it is very sad. If it lasts more than a couple of days, then Monday could potentially be my last day at the Embassy. I do love this place to pieces. I know it like I know my home, and like it better than my home at 510 C. If they offered me a cot in my office, I would move in right away. So, I do hope that these are not my final hours at the Embassy, as I feel things have just gotten started. So maybe, I will still come into work even if nobody is here.
I have this fantasy that since everyone is gone, the Department of Foreign Affairs calls upon me to do what needs to be done. I will work tirelessly, functioning as a temporary Ambassador- hosting dinners, holding meetings, making phone calls, and toiling endlessly. At only 20 years old, I will be the only non-Irish citizen to be the Ambassador of Ireland to the United States. I could use that on my resume.
In the end, maybe my curiosity and imagination are just me leading to more ignorance and more uncertainty. What will become of Katrina, the Irish-American-Nebraskan intern? Find out on the next edition of "Wanderlust."
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
He Who Hugs Trees
Today is a beautiful day in Washington D.C., a warm and sunny 73 degrees, with enough of a breeze to remind you that it may be the last of its kind for a long time. The leaves on the trees are falling, some leaves changing colors to match the brick tone of the Capitol Hill row home to which they belong. The whole scene feels like a memory, and throughout the days of rain, occassionally, Autumn brings you a gift like today.
It is on a day like today that you understand the sentiments of a tree-hugger. You see, trees have a certain way of celebrating life in a way which humans strive their whole lives to understand. In the fall, the tree begins to shut off its life force to the leaves, causing them to turn murads of colors before dropping off and dying, to decay as part of the soil.
In this way, trees have a glorious understanding of the seasons. Before dying, they illuminate with color, bringing their best show for the last days, the last days before the long winter cold. If only we could learn to do so. If only we could learn that when times are about to get cold, we shouldn't put out as little energy as required, but rather, we should put our full force and full beauty behind into the days ahead. Because even though there may be a period that we have no leaves, no sun, and no warmth, we have the guarantee of spring.
It is on a day like today that you understand the sentiments of a tree-hugger. You see, trees have a certain way of celebrating life in a way which humans strive their whole lives to understand. In the fall, the tree begins to shut off its life force to the leaves, causing them to turn murads of colors before dropping off and dying, to decay as part of the soil.
In this way, trees have a glorious understanding of the seasons. Before dying, they illuminate with color, bringing their best show for the last days, the last days before the long winter cold. If only we could learn to do so. If only we could learn that when times are about to get cold, we shouldn't put out as little energy as required, but rather, we should put our full force and full beauty behind into the days ahead. Because even though there may be a period that we have no leaves, no sun, and no warmth, we have the guarantee of spring.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
My Love Affair
English has always had its ways of keeping a leash on me.
It all began when I was seven years old, and my grandmother ordered a set of VHS tapes from A&E television. There were 7 VHS tapes. This set was Pride and Prejudice. It was always tradition that my grandmother would watch movies with me as we drank tea, but this day lasted all night. After being exposed to my first seven hours of Austen, I was never the same.
Throughout high school, my interest in reading always assisted me in English classes, and by the time I was a junior, I was taking English courses for college credit. But to me, it was nothing special. It came as easily to me as anything else, so I thought nothing of it.
I entered college strapped to a hot-air baloon filled with high hopes. I wanted to do something relevant, something practical. For god knows what reason, I decided that physical therapy was probably the best route for me to go. I was always a dancer, and I thought that this might be a good way to keep involved in that. After sessions with people who were telling me about their hospital work, and dissecting a human cadaver in college, I decided that probably wasnt the best route to go.
So I entered University as a Theatre and Communications major. The first semester was one, continuous rehearsal. And one communications class. I spent more time in the theatre building that I did eating, sleeping, bathing, and using the restroom combined. As I fell into bed face first one night it occured to me- I really missed studying. I missed reading. I missed writing. I missed my love affair with Darcy.
It was then I declared my English major. English, like a good man, had always pursued me. Always treated me well, and rewarded me for working. Since the day I declared, I have enjoyed college. I know now the feeling of accomplishment. I know now what it feels like to be good at something. And let me tell you- it feels good.
Last year I had a class on literature of other spiritualities. In the class, students had to write a critical essay on the novel, and post it for the rest of the class to read. Using that pool of papers at research, we would write a comparative essay at the end of two weeks. The other students were reference points. At the end of the semester, an award was given to the student who was most quoted, or most referenced, in the class. It was a class full of all different majors, and I won that award. I smiled and nodded at the professor, but in my head, I was thinking "Wow. This is the proudest moment of my life." I know it was just a token, but to me, it was a victory. It was all the math tests I've failed, all the shows I was never cast in, all the sports I never played. This- this is what it feels like. This is the taste of passion.
From that day I joined the English Honor Society Sigma Tau Delta, and recently I was elected President. Now, I'm not one to "toot my own horn" but I am proud to say now, that English loves me, and I love it for loving me.
But the question is often asked- what does one do with an English major? I only recently discovered my personal answer to that question.
Last semester, I studied in Denmark (the principle on which this blog was founded). During the first two weeks or so, the English of the International students was not at its prime. Nevertheless, Erasmus bonds people together without words spoken. One night I was invited to dinner at my friend Valerio's house. While I was there, Valerio kept holding up objects. A pot. "What's this?" he'd say. "pot. pan. plate. knife" Finally I grabbed some sticky notes and a sharpie, and had the whole apartment labeled. I even drew a poster on the wall of a person, and labeled every body part. I realized then that I had something valuable to him, and it made me laugh with delight to share it. That is when I decided to teach English as a second language.
For me, English is a culmination of everything I have ever loved or pursued. In dance, I loved teaching the younger girls. In theatre, I loved the challenge of presentation. In reading, I loved the profound concentration. All these things combined have created the pinnacle romance of my life- my love affair with the English Language.
It all began when I was seven years old, and my grandmother ordered a set of VHS tapes from A&E television. There were 7 VHS tapes. This set was Pride and Prejudice. It was always tradition that my grandmother would watch movies with me as we drank tea, but this day lasted all night. After being exposed to my first seven hours of Austen, I was never the same.
Throughout high school, my interest in reading always assisted me in English classes, and by the time I was a junior, I was taking English courses for college credit. But to me, it was nothing special. It came as easily to me as anything else, so I thought nothing of it.
I entered college strapped to a hot-air baloon filled with high hopes. I wanted to do something relevant, something practical. For god knows what reason, I decided that physical therapy was probably the best route for me to go. I was always a dancer, and I thought that this might be a good way to keep involved in that. After sessions with people who were telling me about their hospital work, and dissecting a human cadaver in college, I decided that probably wasnt the best route to go.
So I entered University as a Theatre and Communications major. The first semester was one, continuous rehearsal. And one communications class. I spent more time in the theatre building that I did eating, sleeping, bathing, and using the restroom combined. As I fell into bed face first one night it occured to me- I really missed studying. I missed reading. I missed writing. I missed my love affair with Darcy.
It was then I declared my English major. English, like a good man, had always pursued me. Always treated me well, and rewarded me for working. Since the day I declared, I have enjoyed college. I know now the feeling of accomplishment. I know now what it feels like to be good at something. And let me tell you- it feels good.
Last year I had a class on literature of other spiritualities. In the class, students had to write a critical essay on the novel, and post it for the rest of the class to read. Using that pool of papers at research, we would write a comparative essay at the end of two weeks. The other students were reference points. At the end of the semester, an award was given to the student who was most quoted, or most referenced, in the class. It was a class full of all different majors, and I won that award. I smiled and nodded at the professor, but in my head, I was thinking "Wow. This is the proudest moment of my life." I know it was just a token, but to me, it was a victory. It was all the math tests I've failed, all the shows I was never cast in, all the sports I never played. This- this is what it feels like. This is the taste of passion.
From that day I joined the English Honor Society Sigma Tau Delta, and recently I was elected President. Now, I'm not one to "toot my own horn" but I am proud to say now, that English loves me, and I love it for loving me.
But the question is often asked- what does one do with an English major? I only recently discovered my personal answer to that question.
Last semester, I studied in Denmark (the principle on which this blog was founded). During the first two weeks or so, the English of the International students was not at its prime. Nevertheless, Erasmus bonds people together without words spoken. One night I was invited to dinner at my friend Valerio's house. While I was there, Valerio kept holding up objects. A pot. "What's this?" he'd say. "pot. pan. plate. knife" Finally I grabbed some sticky notes and a sharpie, and had the whole apartment labeled. I even drew a poster on the wall of a person, and labeled every body part. I realized then that I had something valuable to him, and it made me laugh with delight to share it. That is when I decided to teach English as a second language.
For me, English is a culmination of everything I have ever loved or pursued. In dance, I loved teaching the younger girls. In theatre, I loved the challenge of presentation. In reading, I loved the profound concentration. All these things combined have created the pinnacle romance of my life- my love affair with the English Language.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)