An Icon Passes

I had another post that I had planned to have up for you all today.  I had begun writing about my trip to Safed, and some reminiscing, in an effort to maintain my already broken promise of updating every Monday; however, the game plan, as you may say, has changed.

As many of you may know, yesterday, Sunday, January 22, Joe Vincent Paterno passed away.  My own predilections should be quite clear by now; however, I would prefer not to speak about recent events. Regardless of anyone’s opinion and in spite of wrongdoing a person may do, it is appropriate, and even expected, to respect the dead.  Even in war, the enemy dead are afforded honor in death.

Instead, what I would like to do here, is take you for a special trip down memory lane and my experiences at Penn State. Looking back is something I had wanted to discuss, but not like this.

I cannot claim to recall my first game, nor my last. I remember the game day tradition of forming a human train to get through the massively over-crowded student entrance, and not get separated. I remember standing in the burning sun and the freezing snow to watch the games, never sitting down. Standing there in a cluster with my friends, hollering and shouting until our voices had gone, and continuing to scream and thunder with over a hundred thousand crazy Nittany Lion fans. I still have my blue “S” zone shirt out here in Israel, that I wear to a class with a professor that came from Wisconsin, just because.

I can see the faces of my good friends and roommates, the architects, the engineer and the computer expert. Hell, I remember once going down to Washington D.C. for a game! I had a different ticket and got separated from the group, but the game was great, as was spending even more time with amazing friends (this was after I had graduated).

At the moment it is hard to lock onto any one memory. It’s more or less a blur, and I’m sure I could write a ten page long nonsensical regurgitation of images as they pass me by, like the year I went to see friends who had dressed up as jack skellington and Sally. I also remember working a number of games in support of the karate club.  I had forgotten about that until now, working in those little shacks at the edge of the ramps selling food and drinks. Felt good to do something for the club, but how I miss those opportunities to go back. As much as I love PSU, I can’t say that the games mean as much as they used to.

Several years in a row I spent with friends on New Years and while he had a great big new year’s celebration, the next morning was a Penn State celebration (well, not always... damn USC). To me Penn State has always been about community. Even when I was at my parents home, the only one awake and I was watching some Penn State game.  I don’t remember who against, I just remember it came down to overtime. We missed, they missed, we missed I shouted! Not long later my father came in to check me and make sure everything was alright.  Even as far as Israel I was watching Penn State, albeit on the play by play by ESPN (Which by the way, is absolutely terrible way to watch a game!).  Since it took a little to refresh itself, the last five minutes must have taken at least fifteen.  I was as rigid as a board, tense as an over strung guitar.

Even now, I know that regardless of how I may feel any day, I have a Penn State community the world over (You’d be surprised where I’ve found PSU fans and alumni in my Euro-trip). So I just want to conclude with this thought from Ghandi.  “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” It doesn’t have to be anything large.  A smile here, a good morning there, even a hug to a friend in need. Every single person has the capacity for great deeds with only the lips of their face; brightening a day with a smile and the ability to reassure the nervous, and comfort the grieving.  I love you Penn State, and all of your children.  Four your founders, strong and great. For the future that we wait, let us aim to make it a better one.

So I’ll actually leave you all with a challenge.  I want every single one of you to make at least one person smile today. Ideally more than one, but go out of your way to brighten someone’s day. We are the change...

The Buzz of the Finals

I cannot espouse the depth and scope of my ire when it comes to the school’s computer system in the library.  I love libraries, I spent a great deal more time than a sane person in the library at state as well as here, and I confess I even attempted to work at the library in both locals to utilize my time there to a greater extent.  That said, my feelings for the lifeless machines, perhaps exacerbated by deadlines, is quite incensed in the most tranquil of moments, and outright madness when any amount of urgency is required.

I can guarantee, that plenty of others can identify with these sentiments, and that fair amount of people are thinking to themselves that they went through the same thing.  I have already received the bleeding heart sentiments of faux sympathy.  I understand that students are generally expected to have no life.  And perhaps I am more so foolish for additionally learning Arabic.  But when it comes down to it, what is at the real heart of the matter is, I was spoiled by Penn State.

The campus was living and breathing twenty-four hours a day, the library never closed and you had not only enough computer labs to satiate the student body, but also had areas for group projects, for individual projects, for quiet reading and facilities to alleviate stress.  Yoga classes, karate classes, gyms and tracks.  There were clubs and teams and a whole weekend program put on for the student body, just in case you were bored and didn’t have plans.  I do miss LateNite, free movies and board games with friends on a lazy evening (settlers anyone?)

It has been asked if I’m home sick, and the answer really is no (sorry Mom and Dad).  The truth of the matter is, I just miss all the accoutrements of a large university. I miss getting electric bills and phone bills I can understand without going to my neighbor (who has the kindest heart, and most patient soul) to translate it.

So for those of you still in school, I know even here I have it plenty better than many others who may lack even the most basic of supplies, who use outdated text books or no books period.  I realize that even with my disappointment in the technology, I am still a very fortunate individual, so I just wanted to share that with you (and finally vent a little frustration at our beloved computer system).

Coming up, when I do not have a paper on the writing block, will be at least one story on my most recent trip to Safat, which reminded me a lot of my trip with Altron to Silent Hill.  Until next time!

The New Year: Part Two

Last Saturday night, people were poised to jump ahead into a whole new year, I wonder if they would know the first week would contain so much.  Already this year, with its brief narrative, the world has seen some incredible things.  Breaking with their traditional views and rhetoric, the United States government has acknowledged the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt (who may very well win a straight majority without the need for a coalition), and Iran is threatening to cut off Oil supplies at the Strait of Hormuz.  They have signaled capability through military exercises which included simulation of closing of the strait and displays of surface to air, surface to surface and anti-ship missiles.  On January third, Iran issued a warning, “"Iran will not repeat its warning...the enemy's carrier has been moved to the Sea of Oman because of our drill. I recommend and emphasize to the American carrier not to return to the Persian Gulf.” 

I’m sure most of you have seen this.  I have seen reactions from worry at what an increasing agitated view of Iran may mean, to welcoming another conflict in the gulf.  I know of no reason to really ever seek a war, as it is a terribly costly endeavor.  Even Homer, the ancient Greek identity, knew the costs of war.  At this point I wish I had my college papers with me to provide some evidence for this potentially contentious statement; however, I do not, and I do not possess the time to recreate that research.  Perhaps there is a bit more worry here than in the states for the simple notion of proximity.  Few people know that during the first Gulf War, that Saddam Hussein launched Scud missiles at Israel, about 42 according to the US DOD.  What this translates as, if Iraq would retaliate against Israel or American aggression, why wouldn’t Iran?  It would give it prefect credence, and as before, Israel would be pressured into doing nothing in retaliation.

But I can assume that you aren’t really reading this for my take on modern politics and ramblings of the ancient world.  New Year’s Eve was special this year, not really because I was in Israel.  People here do not really care.  This is all essentially repetition of my last entry to reset the scene.  Sunday, the beginning of the week here, and the beginning of the year I received my second present.  It would be fun to call it a surprise; however, that would be quite honestly a lie.  It had been planned out weeks, if not over a month in advance.  A friend of mine from State had been thinking about going on Birthright at the beginning of the fall when I was still in the States.  I am sure you can all see where this is going.  We kept in touch, and I cannot reliably convert to words what it is like to see friends who you have not seen in four months or more.

I don’t wish to be misleading, and my words to be misinterpreted to indicate I have no friends in Israel.  That would be pure fiction; what I intend to be understood is how nice it is to see people.  In person is absolutely the best, but even my (I think it turned out to be an hour long?) chat with Beleaguered Castle was significantly inspiring.  It’s not that great revelations need to be made; rather, it is the continued connection that needs to be fed.

So the Birthright Program had the group coming through Tel Aviv, which isn’t too far away and I took a bus down.  I am not sure why, of all the places, they took them to Tel Aviv Namal.  The port can be quite packed, busy exciting, ect when it’s open and alive; however, all the clubs were closed.  Nothing was moving, and even by New York let alone State College standards, the drinks were expensive.  So we sat to coffee and pastries just a block away; we talked, joked and laughed until their bus was taking the back to Yafo at which point I returned home (I discontinue there, it wasn’t quite so quick, but it is quite the boring segment).  And so here I will pause.  I hope that you have managed to keep whatever resolutions you have made thus far, just another 51 weeks to go!  I’ll confess I did not come up with any resolutions.  Is it too late for that?  And a parting thought.  Happiness, I believe, is nurtured by numerous things.  I would love to hear your comments and thoughts on happiness.  For me, I think the most important aspect, where the strongest roots come from is a very ancient idea: γνῶθι σεαυτόν.  I look forward to your responses and mail!

A New Year, Same Perspective

Usually a New Year celebration entails resolutions and promises to oneself about what will be different this year.  I know a lot of people with drastically different traditions ranging from mundane to quite extraordinary.  I would not claim to have any traditions that have been standing in the last few years.  The last few are not immediately memorable; however, after some contemplation I can recall what happened about that time.

Last year found me in good ol’ State.  While I cannot remember New Years Eve, I cannot forget driving to the top of one of the nearby mountains, setting up beach chairs in the snow on the winter solstice and watching the lunar eclipse.  I still have pictures of myself bundled up like some arctic explorer.   The year before that I was in Israel and spent New Year’s Eve at a dance party on the beach.  The Year before that is starting to strain my memory.

This year saw two wonderful surprises.  I did not make really any plans far in advance for this one.  In fact I woke up New Year’s Eve without a plan at all.  While I’ll confide here that when the ‘ball fell,’ or rather when my watch read 01/01 (since the NYC ball wouldn’t fall for another seven hours), I was in my apartment doing some home work.  I didn’t even realize how late it was until 23:53 when a friend wrote me a note.  The basic gist was that I shouldn’t be home with an hour left until New Year’s Day.  Well, I looked at my watch for the first time in hours and laughed.  They were an hour off and I had a grand total of seven minutes until the end of the year.

Now I can only imagine some of you are either not surprised of wondering what could possibly possess me to be home and doing work on New Year’s (let alone, what I could have possibly done in that case warranting this drawn out description).  Perhaps the end of the day is not really important; however, it brings a little closure to the day.  The truly amazing part was nearly twelve hours earlier when I spent a few hours of the afternoon with one of my friends here in town and learned a little about cooking.  It started as just having tea, and soon enough I learned how to make chai, followed by an absolutely delicious zucchini creamy soup.  The hardest part was not eating it before it was ready it just smelt that good!

Not only did we enjoy a delicious meal, and I learn a new recipe that I am going to look forward to trying as soon as I can get out to the mall to buy an immersion blender (I’m starting to look forward to cooking), but I returned home carrying a goodie bag, Chai concentrate and recipe included.  Following such a happy afternoon I felt energized to return home and work.  Intermittently, I finally got around to decorating the room a little.  Some color was finally thrown onto the wall; however, it isn’t the typical college wall collage of friends, family and pets.  My parents might recognize it to be similar to my wall at Stanford: four maps now hang near my desk surrounding my the calendar.  There’s a map of the distribution of Muslim populations from Western Africa, down through Indonesia and up to Kazakhstan into Russia.    I’ll tell you there’s quite a bit a green.  There are also detailed maps of Syria, Libya and Sudan (including the line for the border with Southern Sudan).  I guess not what many of your were expecting.

The second wonderful even happened on Sunday night, and served as a great new year’s present.  I’m not talking about the train which certainly made that night interesting; but rather a trip that included heading down to Tel Aviv Namal.  If you want to learn more about what happened, check back later this week and part two of this new year entry will appear, and that I promise you.  I hope that each and everyone one of you had a happy and safe new year’s celebration, and that this next year will be filled with joy and love.