Where I've Been Since March 24th

The problem with not updating a blog is that not-updating quickly becomes a vicious cycle, a pernicious habit.

I think my absence began with a week of mild depression when nobody commented on my brilliant post about doner kebab and the Reichstag. Also, I was starting to prepare final papers for two of my courses, and the research and drafting for those began to consume much of my time.

That weekend I went to the Society for Mormon Philosophy and Theology annual conference, which was an entirely new and exciting world. Thinking about what I'd heard there kept me busy through General Conference, which gave me plenty more to think about.

And there were still those papers. Before this year, I never thought I'd enjoy writing a twelve-page essay, but I enjoyed writing these (most of the time-- I didn't enjoy it when I was up until 6 in the morning attempting to string together two major sections of my argument, only to give it up for another day.)

Then came exams, and then the drive home to Ohio, and then after 4 days at home I headed off to meet N. for a small reprise of our travels. I stopped to visit friends of a friend near Philadelphia, and then met up with him in NYC. We spent three days there with my sister, a day in New Haven (primarily at Yale's Peabody Museum) and then two days at Brown (where N. goes to school) before he had exams and I went to Boston (stories from this trip to come.)

On the bus, I read Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino.

These last two things (the East Coast trip and my reading of Calvino) may bring changes to this blog. I've decided to expand the scope from my trip last summer to all of my traveling, and I may start experimenting with the sort of view of a city offered by Calvino.

And hopefully there's not another two-month post drought.

Celebrations

I earned my Eagle Scout last July. However, due to the fact that I was in Europe at the time, and then heading almost immediately to college in Utah, the Court of Honor was postponed until December. My super-talented photographer sister got a few shots of N. and I hanging out before the ceremony:




Good times, good times.

Why I Went

I realized that I've been posting a lot about the details of my trip without having ever given the broad picture. I'd like to fix that now, so this post will cover how I ended up going to Europe in the first place, and my next post will give a broad overview of where I went and what I did while I was there. Then I'll go back to posting about the details, because those stories and pictures make up most of what I really want to share.

I ended up in Europe through a series of coincidences and tremendous luck, or rather through one stroke of tremendous luck. My junior year in high school a teacher handed out an application for a program called the Benjamin Franklin Transatlantic Fellowship. The short description mentioned that it was a month-long international relations program held at Wakeforest University and funded by the State Department. Forty students would be accepted, and thirty of them would be from across Europe and Central Asia. The main goal of the program would be to connect youth across the Atlantic.

That sounded really exciting, and for the first time in my life I actually applied for something. I had to work fast because applications were due one week from when I'd gotten the flier, but I had some teachers kind enough to offer to serve as references, and I managed to write the required essays and fill in the required forms.

I got accepted. And during the first year, in North Carolina, I found out that there would be a second year of the program: a reunion somewhere in Eastern Europe the following summer. And now I had friends all across Europe.

In January, BFTF announced that the reunion would be during the last week of July in August, and the flight costs of the American participants would be paid by the State Department. Then they told us that if we wanted to travel before or after the conference, we could, and the State Department would still pay our airfare to and from the continent but we would have to pay for the traveling in between.

And that was my stroke of luck. I couldn't quite believe it was real.

I mentioned this to my friend N., and he said that he'd be saving up money from his job, and that he'd come and travel with me if I wanted the company. By April, I realized this trip was actually going to happen, and N. and I laid out a rough plan for our trip while we were at a Model UN conference together. I also planned some other travel with friends from BFTF. By the end of May, I had arranged a six week trip across nine countries, with the BFTF reunion conference in the fifth week.

It was great. It changed my life and didn't. I'm glad I went, someday I'd like to go again. I can't thank the State Dept. enough. If you thought that the US government never did anything for ordinary Americans, I am living proof otherwise.

Sleeping

Despite the fact that I have no classes before 10am, I haven't been getting nearly enough sleep in the last week, which leads my thoughts back to happy memories of better days during the summer... carefree days when I could sleep as much as I wanted.

These days are mostly a fiction, a trick of the mind, a mirage brought on by the aforementioned lack of sleep... with three days or less to see most places I visited, I didn't sleep much at a lot of the stops.

A specific memory comes to mind: my first night in Sofia, I stayed up until four am trying to help a friend figure out whether it was feasible for him to board a train to Istanbul-- I had my doubts, but he loved the idea, and when I went back upstairs to the room he stayed awake for the rest of the night, researching timetables and talking to the hostel's night clerk.

The last days of the trip, though, were fairly restful... we had all been traveling for weeks, and it was so hot in Serbia that there was almost no point in going out during the day-- so we'd sleep until noon, then loaf around, reading and watching movies, and then go out only in the evenings when the sun was low in the sky.

Moving through timezones did some damage to my internal clock, but I find that these lines are far less disruptive than the personal timezones of the hosts I stayed with-- the routine of a place has power more power to shift a sleep schedule than such an arbitrary thing as the rising or setting of the sun.

Eight Years Later

and it almost seems like a normal day. It even is a normal day, except for the memory.

We remember things. Some days, I don't know whether it's good or bad, but we remember things, and we need to do something to make sense of that, or at least do something.

No more words from me today. Instead, an essay from Brian Doyle:

Kaddish

by Brian Doyle

Kaddish L’anashim

The man who just liked to read the newspaper quietly

The man who loved to preserve tomatoes

The man whose two-year-old son is mortally ill

The man who slept with his two dogs

The man who occasionally vacuumed his lawn

The man who was building a dollhouse for his daughter

The man who was assistant treasurer at his church

The man who helped found a church in New Jersey

The man who was the best probationary fireman ever

The man who built tiny ceramic railroad towns for his daughters

The man who built forty crossbows

The fireman who died with his fireman son

The fireman who died with his fireman brother

The fireman who died with his policeman brother

The fireman who ran in with his fireman brother who survived

The fireman who hugged his fireman brother before entering the tower

The man who had ten children, the youngest an infant

The man who loved Cole Porter

The man who loved Bruce Springsteen

The man who loved Abba

The man who loved The Who

The man who was identified by his Grateful Dead tattoo

The man who loved model trains

The man who loved surfing

The man who loved the Denver Broncos

The man who loved the Detroit Lions

The man who loved his racehorses

The man who loved to run at night

The man who loved to fish for striped bass

The man who fished for bluefish from his lawn

The man who loved his boxer dogs

The man who loved fine red wine

The man who loved Stolichnaya vodka on the rocks

The man who loved skyscrapers

The man who loved birdhouses

The man who loved Les Paul guitars

The man who loved dominos

The man who loved comic books

The man who was rebuilding a 1967 Mustang

The man who rebuilt a 1967 Mustang

The man who was rebuilding a 1948 Studebaker

The man who was rebuilding an MG convertible

The man who restored an old hotel

The man who started a ska band

The man who built harpsichords

The man who had been a model

The man who could ski like the wind

The man who drove a taxi as a hobby

The man who drove blind women to church on Sunday

The man who delivered papers every morning before going to work as a cook

The man who meticulously rotated the socks in his drawer for even use

The man who liked to handicap horseraces

The man who wasn’t a saint by any means according to his mom

The man who was the youngest county treasurer in Missouri history

The man who liked to cook kielbasa

The man who liked to cook pinto beans

The man who liked to cook meatloaf

The man who liked to paint his daughters’ fingernails

The man who made a thousand paper cranes for his wife

The man who made tea for his wife every day

The man who cooked for his blind mother as a child

The man who had his mom’s name tattooed on his arm

The man who had a bulldog tattooed on his arm

The man who had Death Before Shame tattooed on his arm in Gaelic

The man who really wanted to go to Egypt

The man who had been a boxer in Britain

The man who had been a private detective

The man who had been a cricket star in Guyana

The man who had been a basketball star in the army

The man who had been a lacrosse star in Australia

The man who had been a lacrosse star in America

The man who had been a hockey star in Canada

The man who had been a hockey star in America

The man who was an expert surfer

The man who carried a surfboard everywhere

The man who was a quadriplegic and typed with his mouth

The man who played the bagpipes

The man who played the piccolo

The fireman who played the pennywhistle

The man who made tea and toast for his wife every morning

The man who hung out the flag with his daughter every morning

The man who made wine in his basement

The man who knew everything about boats

The man who fixed his son’s toy boat in the basement the night before

The man who liked to quote Federico Fellini about the passion of life

The man who was slowly going blind

The man who bought bagels for everyone all the time

The man who tied fly-fishing flies with his daughter

The man who drew cartoons and caricatures of his friends

The man who went to thirty-five Bruce Springsteen concerts

The man who went to Mass every morning before boarding the train

The man who cared for his kid sister who had cerebral palsy

The man who was a minister for House of God Church Number 1

The man who was an elder at the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah’s Witnesses

The man who served two kinds of caviar at football tailgates

The man who mounted a telescope on a sewer pipe in his yard

The man who was married in full Scottish regalia

The man who spoke Portuguese at home so his children would know the language

The man who carried an old lifeguard from his wheelchair into the ocean for a last swim

The man who carried a woman and her wheelchair fifty floors to the street

The man who had been a furrier in the old country

The man who was deaf and had been a furrier in the old country

The man who was deaf and knew everyone in town

The man who sat with the girl no one liked in high school

The man who invited a mentally retarded girl to sit at the football player’s table

The man who flew small airplanes on Sunday mornings

The man whose first son was born the day after he died

The man whose first son was born a week after he died

The man whose first son was born two weeks after he died

The man whose son was born three weeks after he died

The man whose daughter announced her engagement two days before he died

The man who wrote a song about noodles with his daughter

The man who cleaned his neighbors’ gutters

The man whose parents were deaf

The man whose parents survived the Holocaust

The man whose identical twin survived

The man who once painted his black dog white

The man who was a professor of geography

The man from Cut Bank, Montana

The man who dressed up like Elvis for his daughters

The man who wanted to coach high school basketball

The man who wanted to be a fly-fishing guide in Montana

The man who shoveled snow for his pregnant neighbor

The man who called his mother every morning at nine sharp

The man who called his father every day after his mother died

The man who called his wife three times a day

The man who called his wife every day after lunch for fourteen years

The man who left notes on the breakfast table every morning for his son

The man who fixed a television transmitter with his shoelaces

The man who coached every basketball player in his town for ten years

The man who was working overtime to save money for his daughter’s birthday

The man who met his wife at a production of Romeo and Juliet

The man whose wife found out she was pregnant after he died

The man who helped his wife down eighty-eight floors and then went back in

The man who boated down the Mekong River

The man who rescued children from a daycare center that morning

The man who rescued twin infants from a burning building

The man who rescued an elderly couple from a burning building

The man who carried a man from a burning building

The man who carried a woman down seventy flights of stairs in the 1993 bombing

The fireman who carried a paralyzed child on a tour of the station house

The man who delivered a baby in an ambulance

The man who carried toys with him for distraught children on his paramedic calls

The man who carried dog biscuits in his pockets everywhere he went

The man whose dog cried all night long for two weeks afterward

The man who mowed the Little League field with his own lawnmower

The man who had just taught his son to whistle

The man who taught his pet bird to whistle

The man who had just taught his daughter to dribble a basketball

The man who had just signed up for his first college class

The man who went to college classes every night

The fireman who was also a substitute teacher at the junior high

The fireman who accidentally burned down his own firehouse

The man who wore photographs of his children on a necklace

The man who did cannonballs when he jumped into the pool

The man who had been homeless for years but finally had a job

The man whose job started the day before

The man whose job started two days before

The man who started his own carpet-cleaning company

The man who grilled ribs in winter while wearing a parka

The man who loved to catch crayfish in his creek

The man who raised racing pigeons

The man who carried his failing wife everywhere in his arms

The man whose police shield is in President Bush’s pocket

Kaddish L’nashim

The woman who loved her two dogs

The woman who loved her three dogs

The woman who loved really strong coffee

The woman who was a firefighter

The woman who loved to ride her bike in the desert

The woman whose job started the day before

The woman whose name meant love and joy in Yoruba

The woman whose sons were named Oz and Elvis

The woman who raised llamas

The woman who taught karate to deaf children

The woman who taught every Sunday at Holy Rosary School

The woman who had piercing hazel eyes

The woman who had a famous giggle

The woman who sang lead soprano at church

The woman who played piano for opera troupes

The woman who loved dancing to the Violent Femmes

The woman who loved everything British

The woman who fought the bully in school

The woman you could count on for anything

The woman who was raised by missionaries in Japan

The woman who had prayed the rosary with the pope

The woman whose son is autistic

The woman whose identical twin survived

The woman who had been homeless

The woman who brought clothes to homeless mothers

The woman who died with her nephew

The woman who died with her brother

The woman who died with her husband and brother

The woman who had toured the country singing with Duke Ellington

The woman who wanted to open a flower shop

The woman who listened with her fullest attention

The woman who fed sparrows every morning in her backyard

The woman who gave her place on the elevator away that morning

The woman who was the craziest chocolate person ever

The woman who called her dad every day

The woman who loved pedicures on Sunday mornings

The woman who had just quit smoking

The woman who first kissed her husband under the twin towers

The woman who died on the 104^th floor

The woman who had planned everything about her wedding except the invitations

The woman who wrote forty-five word stories

The woman who wrote her will the day before

The woman who sketched commuters on the train every morning

The woman who was seven months pregnant

The woman who discovered that morning that she was pregnant

Kaddish L’yiladim v’yiladot

The boy who wanted to be an ambulance driver

The girl, age four, flying with her mother

The boy, age three, flying with his parents

The child inside the woman who was seven months pregnant

The children inside mothers who didn’t know of them yet

The children who would have been conceived in years to come

Their children, and their children’s children

May they swim in the sea of the Lord forever.

Late Night in Zion

Today was my third day of classes at BYU... usually I won't have class on Saturday, but I'm in a one-week accelerated course right now, as an introduction to the Honors program.

It's a lot of fun, but it keeps me busy.

I sent in my assignment about an hour ago-- it was due at midnight, so I'm making progress ;)

I don't have a European story tonight... Instead I have another boring announcement:

I like the idea of neatness (or, as G. K. Chesterton might say, the quality of neatness in writing) and part of my sense of neatness is that things should kind-of sort-of stick to a topic.

College life will, no doubt, give me a bunch to write about... and in the odd moments between doing my assignments and sleeping, I'll try to do so, and then post my thoughts online with the vague thought that they might be useful to someone or at the very least that those of you I sometimes neglect to call or write to or visit will have some notion of what I'm doing and thinking.

But this is not the place for that, because this is the place for memories of 'my tour of the Continent', as the heading clearly says.

Which means in a few days, or weeks, I will start another site for those writings, and join my brother and sister in the race to have the most blogs in the family.

Don't worry, this shouldn't make me any more neglectful of writing here than I already am... you can still hope for an update a week.

Also, new priority list, which is probably obvious to most of you but has not, heretofore, been obvious to me:

Homework second, family third, friends fourth, you, my dear readers, still in the top five... and since some of you are also family and all of you are friends, I'll take extra care.

Time Travel

The problem with posting about my trip now is that the further I get from my experiences, the less urgent it seems to share them with the world. I'm caught in the flow of a new everyday life, where my major concern is not packing my bags and catching the train to Brussels, it's packing up my life and driving off to Utah for college.

Soon I know I'll be in another stream, moving between new classes and a new home, my daily concerns and habits reformed once more.

Travel through time makes a lot more difference than travel through space, and it happens only in one direction.

Well, almost only one direction...

Memory is almost like time travel, in the sense that it takes us back to things and places that would otherwise be lost in that relentless forward flow. So posting here becomes a chance to pull my mind back to the days when I was hurtling through space as well as time, hearing a different language and seeing a different city almost every other day.

From here on out, there will be two changes:

First of all, the posts will no longer be necessarily chronological in order-- the path of memory is no straight line, and I'll tell things as I remember them.

Second, because I know it's going to be hard for me to post in my new routine, I need a routine for posting... so look for updates each Saturday and Tuesday.

Now I'm going to sleep, which brings about another kind of travel through time...

Wisdom Extraction

I had five wisdom teeth taken out yesterday.

While this does not leave me feeling particularly more foolish, it does leave me with a more-than-sore jaw and a yearning for soft, lukewarm foods.

Mmmmmm...Tapioca.

My recovery time will probably result in more regular postings, not less, because I can't do much but read, sleep, and bang away at my laptop.

I promise to get back to writing about the past in the near future.

-M.