Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Czech Me Out: My trip to Eastern Europe
I just returned from spending ten days as a chaperone on a school trip to Berlin, Krakow, and Prague. Three countries, three languages, three currencies, four airplanes, forty-five students, two overnight trains, five concentration camps, fifty miles of walking...countless rewards.
The trip, obviously for educational purposes, was designed by an amazing teacher at my school who wanted as many of her students as possible to get a first hand look at the material they had been studying all year (specifically the atrocities of the Holocaust). This is her fifth year doing the trip, and my first year going. I can not put into words what it felt like to walk through the death camp of Majdanek, which was quickly abandoned by the Nazis at the end of WWII and has been practically frozen in time ever since. There was one bunker simply filled with thousands of shoes. Seeing a tangible item belonging to a prisoner at the camp was an eerie and extremely haunting experience. Walking through the gas chambers was something even more intense. Right before we reached the chambers, there was a window overlooking the grass outside. One person took a picture of the window and I asked why. She responded that it was her last glimpse of the world before she would have to change the way she looked at everything around her. All of the students shared this feeling as they held each other for support and searched for lessons in such senseless acts.
Apart from the significance of witnessing history, the trip was also a wonderful way to expose students to the best education they can possibly get: international travel. Some of them had never even been on a plane before, and they are already hooked. Spending time abroad is one of the easiest ways to appreciate the small things which we take for granted every day. Communication, for instance - it feels fantastic to convey a message to someone who doesn't speak the same language that you do. Somehow you manage, using sign language and smiles, to understand one another. I mentioned Starbucks in an earlier post. Yes, it feels pretty good to get a cup of coffee in the morning on the way to work. But drinking cappucino in a cafe in Europe can last all day and never get old. It also makes you acutely aware of how loud Americans are, among other things. And as I grabbed a caramel frappucino in Berlin, I was reminded about how extensive our influence is, despite our flaws.
The trip, obviously for educational purposes, was designed by an amazing teacher at my school who wanted as many of her students as possible to get a first hand look at the material they had been studying all year (specifically the atrocities of the Holocaust). This is her fifth year doing the trip, and my first year going. I can not put into words what it felt like to walk through the death camp of Majdanek, which was quickly abandoned by the Nazis at the end of WWII and has been practically frozen in time ever since. There was one bunker simply filled with thousands of shoes. Seeing a tangible item belonging to a prisoner at the camp was an eerie and extremely haunting experience. Walking through the gas chambers was something even more intense. Right before we reached the chambers, there was a window overlooking the grass outside. One person took a picture of the window and I asked why. She responded that it was her last glimpse of the world before she would have to change the way she looked at everything around her. All of the students shared this feeling as they held each other for support and searched for lessons in such senseless acts.
Apart from the significance of witnessing history, the trip was also a wonderful way to expose students to the best education they can possibly get: international travel. Some of them had never even been on a plane before, and they are already hooked. Spending time abroad is one of the easiest ways to appreciate the small things which we take for granted every day. Communication, for instance - it feels fantastic to convey a message to someone who doesn't speak the same language that you do. Somehow you manage, using sign language and smiles, to understand one another. I mentioned Starbucks in an earlier post. Yes, it feels pretty good to get a cup of coffee in the morning on the way to work. But drinking cappucino in a cafe in Europe can last all day and never get old. It also makes you acutely aware of how loud Americans are, among other things. And as I grabbed a caramel frappucino in Berlin, I was reminded about how extensive our influence is, despite our flaws.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Meeting People Online: Creepy, Despite the Hype
Maybe it's all the recent press about politicians and homeland security officials being arrested for soliciting cops posed as teenagers. But communicating with strangers online continues to be a gray area, even though it has reached almost alarming levels of normalcy. If you don't know me and you're reading this blog, don't stop! Post a comment; I'll write you back! Interaction of that kind is fun. Engaging. Cerebral, even.
But I recently started a myspace page, for the purpose of pushing my books and steering traffic to my website. It's very clear from the content of my page that networking is my sole concern. Still, I get these crazy men writing stuff like, "I like slender girls like you. I live in Seattle. You should come visit me." When I don't respond, I get another email: "Oh, I see you're too good to tell people the truth about your feelings. Instead you ignore them. Why did you add me as a friend if you didn't want to get to know me?" Huh?
There's nothing wrong with forging contact with someone whose profile strikes you as interesting. But common sense would dictate that you at least pretend to have some interest in their lives. Slender girls? Come on.
But I recently started a myspace page, for the purpose of pushing my books and steering traffic to my website. It's very clear from the content of my page that networking is my sole concern. Still, I get these crazy men writing stuff like, "I like slender girls like you. I live in Seattle. You should come visit me." When I don't respond, I get another email: "Oh, I see you're too good to tell people the truth about your feelings. Instead you ignore them. Why did you add me as a friend if you didn't want to get to know me?" Huh?
There's nothing wrong with forging contact with someone whose profile strikes you as interesting. But common sense would dictate that you at least pretend to have some interest in their lives. Slender girls? Come on.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Television and Starbucks: Two Shameful Addictions
It doesn't matter what invitation is offered me this evening. I will be nowhere else but in front of my TV at 9:00. A traditionalist at heart, I have not yet invested in such modern day amenities as Tivo or DVR (whatever that is), and therefore must actually watch a television show the moment that it airs. In times of sheer desperation, I will hit record on my archaic VCR and leave the house, hoping that the entire show is saved before the tape runs out. (The idea of programming the VCR to tape at a specific time is a talent that I have long ago abandoned the thought of attaining). Long story short, 24 comes on tonight. And with the exception of a Beyonce concert, nothing can keep me from it.
Even more pathetic than my crippling addition to well written television shows is my recently acquired Starbucks habit. It started innocently enough: a tall caramel frappucino with whipped cream each Saturday after Pilates class. Soon I was visiting during my free periods at school. Now, even if I can't get out of the building, I send my poor intern to do my bidding. I must have my chai latte. And why? Does it really taste like five dollars? Not really. It's the pleasant service ("How's your day going?" - and they seem to actually care what the answer is!), the ability to specify the order (can I have my chai with soy milk, extra hot, no foam?), and the fact that simply holding the Starbucks cardboard cup has become a status symbol. When I walk the street with my caramel macchiato in hand and whip my huge sunglasses out of my purse (though it's only 50 degrees), I feel like I could indeed be Mary Kate or Ashley Olsen, or even both of them at once. The power of the Buck.
Even more pathetic than my crippling addition to well written television shows is my recently acquired Starbucks habit. It started innocently enough: a tall caramel frappucino with whipped cream each Saturday after Pilates class. Soon I was visiting during my free periods at school. Now, even if I can't get out of the building, I send my poor intern to do my bidding. I must have my chai latte. And why? Does it really taste like five dollars? Not really. It's the pleasant service ("How's your day going?" - and they seem to actually care what the answer is!), the ability to specify the order (can I have my chai with soy milk, extra hot, no foam?), and the fact that simply holding the Starbucks cardboard cup has become a status symbol. When I walk the street with my caramel macchiato in hand and whip my huge sunglasses out of my purse (though it's only 50 degrees), I feel like I could indeed be Mary Kate or Ashley Olsen, or even both of them at once. The power of the Buck.
