Pilgrimage Day 7

Today was a lot more productive than yesterday, mostly because there was nowhere to go but up! We were back together again in our little pilgrimage group for a trip to the House of `Abbud in Akka, the place where Bahá'u'lláh and His family were moved after they were allowed to move out of the Most Great Prison.

Photos of the house don't really do it justice. It's a very large structure, and it was originally split in two. One half belonged to one man and the other half to his uncle (who constructed the whole thing). Bahá'u'lláh and His family originally lived in the smaller half of the house. Although the uncle was suspicious of them in the beginning, he eventually warmed to them. When he determined that the only reason `Abdu'l-Bahá was not marrying the woman he was betrothed to who had come from Persia, the uncle knocked out a portion of the partition separating the two halves of the home and gave one large room to `Abdu'l-Bahá and his wife-to-be so that they could marry.

The house has been restored, of course. The walls are bright white with the characteristic "Bahjí Blue" windows that most of our properties have. There's something I really love about open-air houses. It's one reason I loved the Sabet's home in Dar es Salaam so much - the windows were always open and a breeze was always coming from the Indian Ocean. At the House of `Abbud, the windows were always open and a breeze was always coming from the Mediterranean.

When we returned I visited the grave of Ruhiyyih Khanum, the wife of Shoghi Effendi, Guardian of the Faith. This was at the top of my list because I've always admired her tenacity and wished on more than one occasion that I could have even a small part of it.

For dinner, I decided to actually go out and treat myself. You can only take so many hummus & lunch meat sandwiches on pita bread before you go out of your mind. In fact, I think I have eaten a lifetime's worth of hummus for a Westerner while I've been here. Hummus in the morning, hummus in the afternoon, hummus in the evening, hummus delivered intravenously while you're sleeping...

The restaurant I went to is called Ramsis (as in the Egyptian pharaoh, although we spell it Ramses). Apparently it was the favorite of one of the Hands of the Cause of God, so I figured it should be all right for me, too. I ordered the lamb kebab. I just expected a plate of kebab to be brought to me but soon enough the waiter showed up with a massive Arab salad! Then the kebab came. All this for something like $13.00 (including a soda & Arab coffee).

In the evening, we celebrated the Declaration of the Bab. It's ordinarily held in May but at the Baha'i World Centre all holy days which originally occurred before 1863 are celebrated on the lunar calendar, which puts the day of celebration roughly 11 days before when everyone else is celebrating. I trust there's a reason for this but it was baffling enough to me without someone trying to explain it. I just showed up!

It was held in the same place as the Ninth Day of Ridvan celebration and followed the same format although it was substantially longer. I walked back to the guesthouse following the circumambulation and called it a night!

Leia Mais…

Pilgrimage Day 6

Today was Independence Day. Either there is some kind of holiday or holy day every other day in this country or I just happened to hit the right season. Apparently the standard way to celebrate an independence day anywhere in the world is with fireworks. I don't know if people are following our lead or the fireworks industry has a powerful international lobby, but either way you'd think of all places Israel might tone down the whole "Let's celebrate with explosives!" thing. But much like your earlier assumption that the grocery store would be open on Saturday or Sunday or before 4:00 PM, you'd be wrong. 

Oh yes indeed, Israelis love fireworks. They love them so much that I've been here on two different celebratory occasions when they've set them off. The first time they set them off they were lighting firecrackers, which to the untrained ear sounds just like gunfire. The second time was last night for Independence Day. This was a big municipal ordeal. "Where did the city gather to watch them?" you ask. Why, right under my room, of course! Oh yes, hundreds of people were packed onto Ben Gurion Avenue to watch the fireworks. The explosive thud of the first three fireworks had me convinced we were under artillery attack from Lebanon or Syria. I didn't hear anyone screaming or sirens going off, so I poked my head out the window and saw the sky light up with the fourth one.

I loaded up on cold medicine in order to get some sleep, which turned out to be a mistake. Because of the holy day, our pilgrimage was suspended, and we had the day to ourselves. I'd planned to go see some of the other sites not covered by our tour but then again I plan for a lot of things: I ended up sleeping until 12:00 noon. When I woke up I had lunch, took a shower and then took a taxi up to the Pilgrim Reception Center (the buses were running very slow because of Independence Day). I'd intended to have lunch with James & Annette, but we worked out dinner plans instead.

Back down the mountain, I took it easy until it was time to head back up for the Ninth Day of Ridvan observance. It was held in the gardens in front of the Haifa Pilgrim House next to the Shrine of the Bab. One of the members of the Universal House of Justice delivered a small address on the occasion and then nine readings were given in three languages: Arabic, English and Persian. My favorite was from Selections from the Writings of `Abdu'l-Baha:

O ye beloved of the Lord! This day is the day of union, the day of the ingathering of all mankind. ‘Verily God loveth those who, as though they were a solid wall, do battle for His Cause in serried lines!’ Note that He saith ‘in serried lines’—meaning crowded and pressed together, one locked to the next, each supporting his fellows. To do battle, as stated in the sacred verse, doth not, in this greatest of all dispensations, mean to go forth with sword and spear, with lance and piercing arrow—but rather weaponed with pure intent, with righteous motives, with counsels helpful and effective, with godly attributes, with deeds pleasing to the Almighty, with the qualities of heaven. It signifieth education for all mankind, guidance for all men, the spreading far and wide of the sweet savours of the spirit, the promulgation of God’s proofs, the setting forth of arguments conclusive and divine, the doing of charitable deeds.

Whensoever holy souls, drawing on the powers of heaven, shall arise with such qualities of the spirit, and march in unison, rank on rank, every one of those souls will be even as one thousand, and the surging waves of that mighty ocean will be even as the battalions of the Concourse on high. What a blessing that will be—when all shall come together, even as once separate torrents, rivers and streams, running brooks and single drops, when collected together in one place will form a mighty sea. And to such a degree will the inherent unity of all prevail, that the traditions, rules, customs and distinctions in the fanciful life of these populations will be effaced and vanish away like isolated drops, once the great sea of oneness doth leap and surge and roll.

After the readings were concluded, the Tablets of Visitation - two portions of the Writings specifically for special holy days and use at the Shrines - were recited. Then we were led in circumambulating the Shrine of the Bab by the members of the Universal House of Justice and their spouses. We did so in absolute silence. The only thing you could hear was the sound of footsteps crunching on the broken tiles that made up the path below our feet, the wind blowing through the palm trees and the birds singing.

I think I enjoyed the silence most of all but I was also touched by the faces I passed when circumambulating the Shrine. I passed Caucasian-Americans and African-Americans holding hands, the children of an Ethiopian wife and Danish husband, a Korean man and his Persian wife, a Canadian boy and his new friend from India... It was truly a wonder to see so many people from so many different places walking together without so much as a single trace of enmity or prejudice. They believe one and all that no matter where they're from - Kolkata or Kampala, Vancouver or Vienna, Santiago or Sydney - that we all belong to one human family.

After the holy day celebration, I went with James & Annette by sherut to the top of Mt. Carmel for the first time. We had dinner at a nice little restaurant where I learned about a new kind of cheese - halumi. It has a firm texture and it's generally fried. We all shared a halumi salad, a pizza and some kind of delicious cake. 

When we finished dinner, we took a walk along the Louis Promenade which gives you breathtaking views of Haifa and the bay (you can even see Lebanon!). They used one of the perks of being a World Centre employee - a key to most of the gates of Baha'i properties - to take us down the upper terraces on the way back to my guesthouse. We were the only ones there, and it was so quiet and peaceful in the gardens- no fireworks at all!

Leia Mais…

Pilgrimage Days 4 & 5

It's all I can do to keep my eyes open long enough to type this up. The past two days have been exhausting and filled with moments of not taking it easy, as I should be. I'm not a medical doctor but I like to think over the years I've received a lot of wisdom from my mother's degree in Everythingology (a degree open only to mothers) and through my own personal experience. So my diagnosis is that I have either a mix of a head cold and allergies which got more powerful as I made the journey over here, or I have swine flu. Or maybe I've just been watching too much Al Jazeera on that last one.

Yesterday we assembled at the Pilgrim Reception Center (PRC) in the morning to leave for Bahji. Every set of pilgrims is divided into several groups of roughly 30 people, including groups for different languages (Persian, French, Spanish, etc.). Thankfully our group, "G," doesn't leave until the latest time for most of the visits. I think the person who checked me in during registration could tell I'm not a morning person. God bless her, truly, because I really want to visit these places but the good Lord knows I cannot get myself out of bed before 7:00 AM no matter what time zone I'm in. 

Bahji is the home of Baha'u'llah and his followers for the latter years of His life. It's located just outside the city of Akka. The complex contains the Shrine of Baha'u'llah, the Qiblih of the Baha'i Faith (the point to which we orient ourselves when praying); a visitor's center; gardens and the Mansion of Bahji, the home Baha'u'llah lived in. The Shrine itself contains the remains of Baha'u'llah.

I have to say I didn't feel like I was appropriately moved. We approached the Shrine with two other groups. Outside, we removed our shoes and then went inside where someone read the Tablet of Visitation, a portion of the Writings which is read at the Shrines of Baha'u'llah and the Bab. Thereafter we were left to our own prayers either in the main room or the small rooms off to the side. I dismissed myself to one of those rooms and prayed for myself and others. There were Persian women throwing themselves on the ground weeping and prostrating themselves like we were in mosque together. It was a very odd scene for me, and it gave me an uneasy feeling. Maybe it was my Western sensibilities flaring up, but I didn't feel "it" as much as they were. I felt calm and detached but I wasn't moved to prostrate on the floor or kneel before the threshold to the room that contained Baha'u'llah's remains.

That isn't to say I didn't feel anything during my visit to the Shrine. I did feel I had the opportunity to unburden myself of the things I seem to always carry around with me. I generate a lot of baggage for myself, and it was nice to let go of some things. There is a particular issue that, blissfully, I haven't thought about since that point up until writing this now. And even now it doesn't feel like it's as all-consuming as it was before. It's something that will be dealt with in its own good time.

By contrast, I felt my time walking in the gardens was more spiritually productive. They are all lovingly cared for and meticulously cared for by the staff of the Baha'i World Centre and their hard work shows. You can readily identify Baha'i properties, even those that are unmarked, in Haifa and Akka by the state of their condition and the surrounding grounds. In the gardens, you're disturbed only by the sound of your own footfalls and nature - the wind blowing through the trees, birds singing, bees buzzing. I didn't have a claustrophobic feeling of being in a small building with a number of other people. I didn't have to worry about other people keeping their eyes on me, watching to see if I did something out of line. So I simply enjoyed my time in the gardens, freeing my mind of having to think about anything at all. 

Prayer has never been easy for me. As a child I was mercifully never forced to go to church, read the Bible or be subjected to a preacher and church society. I attended schools which focused on the sciences (and arts to a lesser extent). My upbringing was decidedly secular, a sharp contrast to most of my classmates. I never developed the habits or rituals of prayer, only stopping to pray if I wanted something. I believed in God as much as the next person but religion was neither at the forefront of my life nor did it really play any significant part.

Now the coin's been flipped, and I often find it difficult to settle down and pray as I should or have the appropriate attitude of reverence. I balk at the concept of needing to be dressed up to go to the House of Worship in Wilmette, the thought of bowing down in front of anything makes me squirm and the worshipful, kow-towing attitude with which institution members are treated leaves me with a slimy feeling. I am far more comfortable doing or at least feeling as if I'm doing something. I will sing a prayer over saying it quietly, I will tutor a study circle over hosting a devotional meeting, I will walk in the gardens of Bahji rather than prostrate before the Shrine. I comfort myself with the thought that we are defined by our deeds and not our words, that my deeds make up for my lack of prayed words, but there's still something somewhere in the back of my mind that insists maybe I'm just not devout enough or I just don't believe enough.

After Bahji, we returned to the Arc to meet the members of the Universal House of Justice. I wasn't clear whether we were meeting with the institution or its members. I assumed it was the institution first and then its constituent members afterward. Following a small welcoming address by one of its members, the members of the House came and walked through the rows to greet each one of us. Working at the Baha'i National Center has heightened my perception of how people treat members of high-ranking institutions within the Faith. I will admit the first time I met the Secretary-General of our National Spiritual Assembly I had a reaction of awe. I felt disgusted with myself afterward because our obedience and deference is to the institution, not it's members. Separate they are merely men and women, and I keep this in mind at all times - "he's just a man, like me or anyone else."

When I met each of the House members, I felt I kept the appropriate attitude. It was nice to meet them but I wasn't tripping over myself or trudging up obscure facts to try to impress them. They are all nice people who have rendered invaluable service to the Faith, but they are just men when they're coming around shaking our hands.

The evening featured a talk by Counsellor Stephen Birkland of the International Teaching Centre, but I was in my room resting. I seem to have just enough energy to make it through the day before collapsing at night. When I first returned back to the guesthouse, I had to ask the owner to use the telephone. He invited me into his home and I had coffee and cake with him and his wife. I listened to him tell stories about a few of his more difficult guests (including 30 Baha'is from the Congo - personal experience allowed me to relate to what a nightmare this must have been!), and I shared about life in Chicago and Africa.

=-=

Today I went to Akka with 7 Persian friends - a family of two sons, one daughter, a mother and father from Vancouver and a mother and daughter from Shanghai and Adelaide respectively - and an American Baha'i from Oregon. They invited me along when I ate lunch with them yesterday, and I was very grateful for it because I didn't have a clue how I was going to arrange transportation to Akka on my own. They picked me up from my guesthouse and I learned that the American Baha'i was "Ryan." Oiy - Ryan & Bryan!

We were dropped at the Land Gate, the only way in and out of Akka in ancient (and not so ancient) times. It's very cleverly designed in an L-shape with a massive door. The walls are very thick, and it's easy to see why Crusaders, Ottomans and French alike had such a terrible time taking the city (or not taking it in some cases). We saw a number of the places associated with the stay of `Abdu'l-Baha and Baha'u'llah in the prison city, including the Sea Gate and the caravanserai where they and a number of Baha'is stayed. Lunch was at a local shwarma shop (delicious).

We did a lot of wandering around. Forgive me but I'm too exhausted to give an exhausting account of the day in Akka. It was one of the best days for me so far, just from fulfilling the dream of visiting such an ancient and important city, let alone seeing the holy sites.

Tomorrow is the Ninth Day of Ridvan celebration. The actual observance is held at 4:00 PM. I'll be having lunch with James & Annette, two friends from Hot Springs serving here, but the rest of the day is free. Assuming I'm in good health and spirits, I'll probably see some of the sights not covered in our guided tour, like the Monument Gardens, the Temple Land and the Baha'i Cemetary.

Leia Mais…

Pilgrimage Day 3

"Since apparently everything in America is going into the toilet except the public's faith in Barack Obama, it seems that the way to fix everything in America is to entrust it to Barack Obama."

- Derek Thompson, The Atlantic

I am halfway up this mountain. At least, God help me, I hope this is halfway up. Whatever fool part of my brain thought it was a good idea to walk to the Pilgrim Reception Centre (PRC) was surely murdered by the rest of me a few blocks back. But once you get up this thing to a certain point you're kind of locked into it, so I will soon march onward again.

Whatever cold I had on the way over here has developed into some sort of full blown infection. I haven't been able to find a pharmacy yet, but surely someone at the PRC will be able to direct me to one. I can't really hear very well out of one ear and it hurts, which leads me to believe I have some kind of ear infection. I can't breathe out of either nostril since they've been taken over by mucous (that word is so disgusting). Hopefully I can self-medicate and be fine...otherwise walking up this mountain is sure to kill it.

A lady just passed me going up the mountain in high heels. How embarrassing.

---

Okay, what's more embarrassing is that when I stopped to write that, I was sitting right next to the Pilgrim Reception Centre, like 1/4 block from it. It was the next building over. So all that huffing and puffing was not in vain! I conquered the mountain! Or...at least I conquered it as far as I needed to conquer it. What's the sense of climbing all the way up a mountain when you only need to go halfway? Despite how "short" the walk was, I think I'll take the bus next time. And, likely, always.

I registered myself at the PRC, bought my health insurance and had a cup of tea. What immediately surprised me was that nearly everyone here is with someone. I was the only person that was alone, which really just sort of magnifies the feeling. I'm sure I will meet many people, especially in my group, but it still feels a little awkward to be by yourself. And of course as I'm typing this paragraph, another pilgrim comes into the common room of my guesthouse and introduces herself. We're everywhere! So, scratch that whole being alone business.

With the help of Andrew, the owner of the guesthouse, I managed to find a pharmacy. They gave me some over-the-counter medication for congestion and allergies, but apparently I will need a prescription or something of the sort for my ear problem. I'm beginning to wonder now if it isn't just stopped up. This happened once before and the doctor just flushed it with a saline solution, so I'll visit the clinic tomorrow and see if they can help me out. In the meantime, I'll just hear out of one ear.

Most of the rest of the morning and afternoon, I've been wandering around Haifa (read: lost). I've been trying to find a supermarket, really. I swear, things are closed here so much it's not even funny. If it's not Shabbat, then it's Sunday. If it's not Shabbat or Sunday then it's some kind of holy day. Frankly, I'm beginning to wonder if there's ever one day of consistent, uninterrupted commerce. All that aside, walking around has at least given me some exercise. It's nice, sunny and warm as opposed to Chicago's messy, cloudy, cold, rainy/snowy.

Eventually I ducked into a restaurant on Allenby. I keep hearing about these mythical shwarma/falafel shops with cheap food but I've yet to find one. I'd hoped this was one. They didn't have shwarma or falafel, but the owner asked me to take a seat and look at the menu. I ordered a Coke and the "hummus with meat" without asking or even wondering what kind of "meat" it was going to be. It only takes one question about the wrong thing in Africa to teach you to just eat what's put in front of you and not worry about it. So moments later a GIANT plate of hummus and meat was delivered to me along with a plate of pickle, olives, onion, tomato, peppers and some kind of purple thing and pita bread. It was a little expensive but I have to keep reminding myself I'm in a developed and not developing country.

Even with directions from Andrew, I still couldn't find the supermarket. I swear these things phase in and out of existence based on my positioning. There is one nearby that I know but it doesn't open until 4:00. What kind of store doesn't open until 4:00, I don't know, but apparently this is one of them. I suppose it's some kind of holy day. Or Shabbat. Or Sunday. or maybe, somehow, all three.

---

Okay, all that movement earlier was a huge mistake. I practically collapsed when I came back to the hotel to rest. I took a small nap and when I woke up, everything was worse. I took more medicine but I knew I was in no shape to go back to the Pilgrim Reception Centre for orientation. I'm going to go early in the morning with the hope that someone can give me a condensed version of the orientation, otherwise I'm sure I'll end up being lost the whole time. 

So I shuffled around the room most of the afternoon, lamenting my condition and feeling sorry for myself (what else should I do?). I eventually got a little more sleep and felt a little better when I woke up. Out of necessity I had to go to the grocery store, which had finally opened. I have some pita bread, lunch meats, olives, apples and hummus for sandwiches, chips (or crisps, whichever you prefer) and sugar for tea.

This evening I have been catching up with the son of the family I lived with in Tanzania. The older I get the worse I am at keeping in touch with people, so it was very nice to touch base with him at the most unlikely of times in the most unlikely of places. 

With a sandwich in my tummy and some cold medicine doing its work, Insha'Allah I will be able to fall asleep and wake up feeling like a brand new person!

Leia Mais…

Pilgrimage Day 2

Right now it's karaoke night at the little bar/club across the street from my guesthouse here in the German Colony in Haifa. Some drunk man just wrapped up a rendition of Patsy Cline's "Crazy." I'll tell you what's crazy: it's me for staying here. Let this be a lesson learned - you get what you pay for. When planning a trip abroad, you should be groaning from the expense of accommodation instead of jubilant at the deal you think you're getting.

I left Chicago on Thursday evening feeling the least prepared I've ever felt before going abroad. I left half my pilgrimage information at home, and I'm sure I've forgotten something critically important and I just haven't discovered it, yet. The good news is the plane ride allowed me time to catch up on the few assignments that I still had due. I'm finished with everything except revising a draft and finishing a reflection essay.

When I was getting on board in Chicago, I fell in line behind this lady. I assumed she was by herself but when we got to the gate, she turned around and told me to hurry up. I balked at her and she gasped. "Why, you're not my husband at all!" she said in this very dignified British accent. "A bit young for you, isn't he?" the airline official at the gate asked. "Don't get cheeky," the lady said, snapping her fingers at her husband behind me. "Come on, then."

On the flight from London to Tel Aviv, there were a lot of incorrigible people onboard. I felt bad for the flight attendants. First this man insisted on holding his guitar because it wouldn't fit in the overhead. If you can't hold a purse in your lap then obviously you can't hold a guitar. The flight attendant was going to put it in the closet in first-class for him, but he refused! She tried to take it from him, but he tugged it back from her. Then she started getting pissed, so finally he let go with a begrudging, "You take good care of it," as if it were a child he'd never see again. Another man had his blanket over his seatbelt and refused to show it to the flight attendant during turbulence. Eventually she just reached over and snatched his blanket away from him!

There's been a lot of hullabaloo about the new Terminal 5 built by British Airways at London's Heathrow airport. This was my first time going through it, and I hated it. I had 1 1/2 hours to make my transfer, and it took me slightly more than an hour to get through security. Yes, security. For what, I have no idea. First of all, our 777 didn't even pull up to a gate. It just sat out on the tarmac and we were bused to the terminal. Then we were ushered upstairs and made to wait in line before going through a checkpoint where we had our passports inspected and liquids confiscated. 

Then it was on to actual security. I have absolutely no idea what dangerous things they expected us to pick up between our plane and the terminal. We went through all the things we went through in the U.S. - take off your shoes, take out your laptop, etc., etc. Lucky me, my flight was departing from a terminal where I had to get on another bus and be shuttled to my plane.

Tel Aviv was thankfully easy. The passport control agent either didn't care or didn't hear me when I asked not to have my passport stamped, so I'll have to get a new passport if I intend to travel to an Arab country. They pulled me aside after immigration and a guy asked me a few questions: "Where are you going?", "Why?", "Where are you staying?", and "Do you have your letter from the Baha'i Center?". I snagged some shekels from the ATM and boarded a sherut for Haifa. I had to wait an hour for it to fill up, but eventually we were on our way.

Granted it was a cloudy day, but Israel seems pretty ugly to me. I guess there's a certain appeal to this scruffy Mediterranean look but the architecture, particularly in Tel Aviv, was extremely uninventive: one cement block after another! Haifa is considerably better but it's still sort of ugly once you look beyond the very touristy areas.

I'm staying in the German Colony, which was settled by a bunch of Germans looking for the return of Christ (somehow they missed the Baha'is the whole time they were here, sheesh). It's sense been rehabilitated and seems to be (unbeknownst to me ahead of time) a center of Haifa nightlife. There are a number of good restaurants around but my visits will be few and far between thanks to a budget.

Overnight I fought with the music from the club and my own jet lag, only getting a few hours of sleep. I ended up actually sleeping solidly from 8:00 AM - 2:00 PM. I went out and bought a few groceries so I could eat in my room and then went to get adventurous! I thought of trying to hoof it up the terraces but they seemed to be closed, so I followed signs to "Baha'i Center" and ended up getting lost. It was a health walk nonetheless, although I think Mt. Carmel will end up killing me before I leave.

Here are some little bits about Israel:

1.) Learn Hebrew. If you don't, expect to always be on the wrong bus, in the wrong restaurant and/or eating the wrong food, walking down the wrong street or otherwise doing/saying something wrong.

2.) There are approximately 3 stray cats and 2.3 children for every 1 adult Israeli. If you doubt this statistic, check the nearest dumpster or sidewalk, respectively.

3.) Any car driven by a person under 30 must be small, contain at least one person with over-large sunglasses on, have the top down and be blasting the latest in bad Middle Eastern techno pop.

4.) Hummus will be included with all meals, even if they have to somehow slip it into your drink. Deal with it.

5.) Israeli/Palestinian men might have us Westerners beat with their suave Mediterranean looks, but they don't help themselves with their dress, hair products, cologne and attitude.

6.) When thinking of taking the bus, stop and reassess the situation. Can I walk there? Do I have enough shekels to just take a taxi? If the answer to both is "no," look for a bus sign. One side will be in English, but this side will also be facing the other way and be half-blocked by another sign, the top of the bus stop, a sticker or any and everything else. Deploy a high-tech GPS beacon before getting on the bus so that you can safely track your way back.

7.) Never plan anything for Saturday. Everything is closed, my friend.

Leia Mais…

We Have Recommendations for You

With the economy in the tank and the cost of just about everything going through the roof (let's not kid ourselves, people), we're seeing a downturn in business here at work. I don't mean to say I'm not busy or I have a lack of things to do, it just seems like it all comes in bursts. I could go two hours without doing anything, only to be slammed moments later with stuff that keeps me working every minute until 5:00.

So during this morning's slow period, I was tooling around Amazon.com, which feels a bit traitorous because of the way they treat small publishing companies and authors. I bought a handful of books (I'm a sucker for books) because the pocketbook speaks louder than my principles when it comes to books. But the real point is how amazed I was at the way the company tracks your purchases. These days we're no strangers to having what we do be tracked, from what we purchase at the grocery store to what university programs we might be interested in (after expressing interest in one university, I've been inundated with others offering similar programs).

I'm sure privacy advocates hate it, but I'm personally not too concerned about it. While I was going through the recommendations that Amazon.com was giving me, they made a link between the Kitab-i-Aqdas and the Qur'an, saying that if I purchased one I would be interested in the other. It just makes me curious about what kind of criteria they use for this sort of thing. Is someone manually doing it? Given the volume of books they carry, I find myself doubting it. It was just an unusual connection. Not necessarily wrong, just unusual.

Last week, I went to see the Thursday night midnight showing of "Dark Knight," the new Batman movie. I didn't get home until 3:00 AM and asleep until 4:00 AM, but it was certainly worth it. Keeping the TV off and not reading the news very often for a few months has kept me somewhat isolated from pop culture and I was in Africa when "Batman Begins" was released, so I didn't fully appreciate the magnitude of the movie's release.

The theatre was packed, and there were 5 different midnight showings in addition to a 3:15 AM showing, which only a crazy fool would drag themselves out of bed to go see. All of the shows were sold out. I struggled with my exhaustion at some points in the movie, but overall it was a great, great action movie. A co-worker loaned me his copy of "Batman Begins," which I watched last night, and it was a bit disappointing after watching "Dark Knight." That isn't to say it wasn't a good movie, but it paled in comparison. I should have watched them in the correct order like everyone else in the world!

Plans for moving back to Little Rock are right on schedule. My petition for re-enrollment (a so-called reapplication application) was accepted. My FAFSA was processed by the government in record time, leaving me to wonder why they move like a sloth on everything else, and now the actual decision will be left to the university to decide (now begins the sloth-like movement). I spoke with my aunt about the whole issue of moving around, and I'm consulting with my parents about logistics (when, how to move). The only bad thing so far has been the higher than anticipated price of apartments after some more in-depth research. All of the reseafch I do online is useful but in the end I think it's going to be a feet-on-the-ground type of expedition that will be the most useful.

Leia Mais…

A Purpose Driven Life

"...these Northern nights are dreary, and my Southern heart is weary...."
- "Smoky Mountain Memories," Dolly Parton

I've decided I've missed the therapeutic qualities of blogging, so I'm going to pick it back up. I never really intended to drop it in the first place, but apparently when you enter the so-called "real world" a lot of small things get sacrificed on the altar of "I worked all day, and I'm too tired to do XYZ."

Up until a week ago, everything here was business as usual. I'd drag myself across the street every morning and life went on as it always does. However, a week ago I decided this was a mistake. It was a nice, grand experiment in independence from which I've gleaned a number of insights and learned a number of lessons the hard way but all (good?) things must draw to a close. It started by resigning as the cluster institute coordinator, a job for which I was ill-suited in a cluster like this one, and then the more momentous and life-changing decision to pack up my bags and move back to Little Rock.

When I returned to Africa in May/June, I didn't really have much of a purpose in going beyond taking a vacation, visiting with Hossein & Mitra and giving May Saba a really big hug. But apparently my mind was hiding a larger purpose (it's amazing how often and how well we can trick ourselves): I was sitting near a roundabout with Mitra in Morogoro, drinking a Fanta Pineapple, waiting for the mechanic to fix a puncture in the tire and looking up the Uluguru Mountain shrouded in clouds when I blurted out that I had come back to Africa to see if it's where I belonged, where I wanted to be.

I think I surprised myself with my admission more than I surprised Mitra. My whole itinerary shifted after that. I spent more time sitting in Mitra's office grilling her about the intricacies of her non-governmental organization and the Tanzanian Baha'i community than I did traveling to exotic beaches and remote locales. I shuffled around the house in my pajamas thinking about the impact of a life in Africa - the good, the bad, the ugly - and the sacrifices it would take to pursue that life. All that isn't to say I left fun by the wayside (I can't remember laughing more) but the trip turned more contemplative than I'd anticipated.

When I came back home, all my ruminations were put squarely in the back of my mind by the daily 8:00 - 5:00 grind (who actually works 9:00 - 5:00 anymore?) and the pace and demands of the American lifestyle. In the quiet of the evening in those moments right before sleep I'd see the thoughts emerge and some energy put into sorting them out. "Sorting them out" would eventually lead to only a vague understanding of what I wanted and even that would be burned away like fog in the morning sunlight. Fruitless attempt after fruitless attempt to engage my own self in an earnest, internal discussion about the direction in which I needed to go eventually led to prayer (the Tablet of Ahmad was a favorite).

One morning I woke up with such a distinct clarity of purpose that it made me giddy inside. I've always envied those people who knew what they wanted, when they wanted it and how they wanted it and for once I was experiencing the same feeling (although those people likely have no corresponding emotional rush - they are simply who they are).

It seems like I've taken the most circuitous route to get to this point, but the burst of clarity forced me to realize that if I'm going to go back to Africa, if I'm going to dedicate my life to helping other people in any way then the first prerequisite is finishing college. Before, going to school just seemed like one of those things you did - the next step in the life you're supposed to pursue. But now that it's very clearly a means to an end for me, I feel like I've been fired and tempered with a purpose. I think the blacksmith could have been a little gentler with me, a little faster in getting me to this point but I think now when I have that paper in my hand it won't be a hollow degree.

Staying here in Chicago and finishing school was not an option. I will be assuming debt to finish my degree, and there's not much sense in amassing piles of debt struggling in a place like this when I can return to Arkansas and attend an admittedly "lesser" institution without sticking it to my future self 20 years from now still struggling to pay down all the loans. Some part of me still feels like it's giving up to tuck tail and leave after only a year here but those thoughts are usually fast trodden by the sense of purpose that's now driving me.

The logistics are now falling into place. I've informed the Baha'i Publishing Trust that I will not be here beyond the end of November, which was taken a little harder than I anticipated. I'd originally committed for two years but I don't feel the need to be overly apologetic or kowtow to that commitment when the way forward for me is so clear. I'm going to do everything I can to help the transition go smoothly for my replacement.

I've had to reapply to the university because I was not enrolled for some time, and the arduous task of filling out the much loved FAFSA (Free Application for Federal Student Aid) is now behind me. When I have a response on these two then I'll be able to move forward with more long-term planning. As it stands, my parents will come up to help me move (again - God bless their souls) around Thanksgiving so I'm out by the time my lease expires on 30 November. They've graciously offered some living space for me until I've secured the funding for housing in Little Rock, which I've already begun to search for. As an aside on the cost of living on the North Shore, it's appalling to see I can rent a two bedroom apartment in a nice neighborhood in Little Rock for considerably less than what I'm paying for my one bedroom here in Wilmette.

It's nice to move forward. It's nice to have a purpose!

Leia Mais…

Imagine!

I skipped Baha'i school today and spent the better part of the day trying to get my apartment in some sort of order. As I'm wont to do, I've let it all go to hell in the span of a month. Apparently you have to pick things up, dust, vacuum, sweep and do the dishes and the laundry or everything will turn into a dirty, intolerable mess. I think domestic responsibility is going to be beaten into me the hard way over a period of time. As much of an anal control freak as I am about just about everything else under the sun, it's beyond even me as to why I can't stay on top of this sort of thing.

Last week I managed to get two parking tickets in the same day. Officer George is now my sworn enemy. Apparently he patrols Linden Avenue without mercy! You would think my out-of-state license plate would have persuaded him to give me some slack, but apparently not. So I have to pay the Village of Wilmette $50 and see how many days I can survive on Ramen noodles until Friday (pay day). I'm about as fiscally responsible as I am domestically responsible, although I am learning the former far faster than the latter, mostly because of the difference in severity if I don't.

Sometimes it's really sort of lamentable that I work in the Publishing Trust building instead of the National Center. I don't get to see or meet all of the people over there except at general staff meetings, which is hardly a time for socializing. But one of the nice things is that the Publishing Trust houses the records and staff of the Temple Conservation Office. Last week I saw a picture of what the inside of the House of Worship was supposed to look like, according to Louis Bourgeois's vision. Although it's only a picture of one of the sort of panels that would have been inside, which would basically have followed the lace-like appearance of the outside, one of the staff members explained to me that he originally wanted ribs going up the side of the Temple embedded with sapphires and rubies, etc. Imagine!

Leia Mais…

Survival

I'm having a very amusing time of living on my own. The amusement derives largely from my own overwhelming incompetence when it comes to anything that might remotely be considered "domestic." A perfect example of this is right before I sat down to write this entry I decided to get a glass of water. I use a water filter for any kind of water that goes into my body. Although I trust the water treatment people in Wilmette, I grew a little suspect when I read their Annual Water Report:

At times, the quality of the raw lake water that enters the water plant is affected by the opening of the locks operated by the Metropolitan Water Reclamation District of Greater Chicago (MWRDGC), or from runoff from the use of fertilizers and herbicides on area lawns and golf courses.

The MWRDGC owns and controls a set of locks located in Wilmette Harbor that are occasionally opened during heavy rainfall events to release sewer overflow into the lake. These contaminants, however, do not affect the quality or the safety of the finished water that is delivered to consumers.

Anyway, I digress. When I was lifting up the water pitcher to pour the water, I realized too late that I had leaned an open box of linguini against it. In the process of trying to save the box of linguini, it spilled all over the floor along with the water. And I had just cleaned the floor this morning. The moral of the story is that I can't even pour a glass of water without some small disaster occurring.

Although its followed my pathetic attempt at cooking bacon and eggs (the bacon looked like two thin strips of licorice), I do have a minor success to report. I made a meatloaf! All right, all right. I admit it's no triumph of culinary greatness but it's the most edible thing I've made to date. Also the oven did not send out billows of black smoke this time, which was really more exciting than the success of the meatloaf. The only complaint I have about the meatloaf is that it called for some brown sugar for some reason. I initially thought it would be nice, but in the end it just made it too sweet. And I also put in too much pepper. I'll figure out this spicing thing in the next decade, I'm sure.

Leia Mais…

The Great Snow of 2007-2037

It's snowing to beat the band outside. It started at 12:00 noon, and it's expected to stop sometime in 2037. Just kidding (I hope). I think it's actually supposed to stop tomorrow night. The expected accumulation is 6 inches but they never tell the truth about these things. I always throw a few inches on top just to be sure. But the wind tomorrow is supposed to be worse: 20-30 mph with 40 mph gusts. [Insert any old "Windy City" joke here.]

My first day back at work in two weeks was...a let down. Sort of. I expected a few problems to be resolved and some improvements made but I have always attached too much importance to the outcome of my expectations. It's a fault of mine. Thanks to a relatively low call count, I was able to put some sort of semblance of order into our e-mail system and handle some back issues. Maybe I'm taking the job too seriously but I'm trying to do a better job of presenting a friendly and responsive Baha'i Distribution Service.

After work, I went down to the House of Worship (HoW) as I'd promised someone I would do. By that time the snow was getting a little out of hand so I decided to drive lest I turn into a snowman on the walk down and back. I was able to pray in peace and silence for a while before it was time for the evening devotional sponsored by the staff of the HoW. They're typically your standard devotional service but occasionally there's something especially nice, like this evening there was a lady who sang so beautifully that it brought me to tears. She sang one of the Hidden Words in Spanish and English: "O My Servant! Free thyself from the fetters of this world, and loose thy soul from the prison of self. Seize thy chance, for it will come to thee no more." It was clear that she had sung in the Temple before because she knew how to work the acoustics very well, drawing out a note here or adjusting her tone there so that it rose as high as the Greatest Name at the apex of the Temple's dome.

Since I'm off for work tomorrow for New Year's, I went to the store and bought a nice pork roast to cook in the slow cooker so I'll have something decent to eat tomorrow. There's no better time than a holiday to take a break from the Raman noodles and eat something...well...edible. Of course the last time I tried to cook some real food the oven practically burst into flames, so let's hope this doesn't turn into the same type of culinary abortion.

Yesterday I made a foray into the world of Chicagoland shopping. I went to Westfield's Old Orchard Mall in Skokie, which is pretty much the biggest monument to free market capitalism that I've ever seen. The anchor stores are Macy's, Nordstrom's, Lord & Taylor and Bloomingdales, and then just throw in probably 200 other stores, including a Loew's Movie Theater and a Barnes & Noble. It took me literally 15-20 minutes to find a parking spot. I could only bring myself to visit Macy's, Nordstrom's and Lord & Taylor. I was after a pair of gloves, a scarf and some new socks. I got most of that at Macy's, and I just wanted to swing by Nordstrom's to see if there was actually anything on sale. I quickly determined I could never afford anything in that store and moved on to Lord & Taylor.

In Macy's, I panicked because I forgot which door I came in. I could see myself wandering the mall complex aimlessly like a man in the desert. All in all I think I braved the storm pretty well, although I was acting like a bit of a slack-jawed yokel by gawking at all the stores and all the pretty things I'll never have. But to be honest, it's kind of nice to know what you want and know what your limit is and go into the store and get exactly what you want without spending more than you intended. In comparison to people who go thousands of dollars in debt chasing the latest fashions and trends, it's not really all that bad.

I have had this quote from Baha'u'llah in my head (mostly because there's a song made of the "Ye are the stars..." portion), so I guess I'll close with that:

"O friends! Be not careless of the virtues with which ye have been endowed, neither be neglectful of your high destiny. Suffer not your labors to be wasted through the vain imaginations which certain hearts have devised. Ye are the stars of the heaven of understanding, the breeze that stirreth at the break of day, the soft-flowing waters upon which must depend the very life of all men, the letters inscribed upon His sacred scroll."

- Baha'u'llah

Leia Mais…

Stranger in a Foreign Land

I wish I had the energy at the end of the day to do a better job of blogging but by the time I get home and cook something for dinner I'm so tired that all I want to do is eat, watch some TV and go to sleep. It's an incredibly pathetic routine for someone my age, even considering how much of a natural home body I am. However, I do have a new found respect for homemakers!

I have to admit that life here so far has been incredibly lonely. I don't know anyone except my co-workers and only a handful of those. I have no family here and no friends in the city. For the past few weeks I have been sort of moping around. Of course I've been back and forth between here and Atlanta so much that I've hardly been allowed a grand amount of social time. Thankfully things have turned around a little bit in the past few days.

Friday was a very difficult day for me. Our trainer was heading back to Atlanta at mid-day and my co-worker was taking a half-day. This left only me and one other person in Atlanta handling calls and things. There were so many issues coming up that I wasn't trained on how to handle, coupled with our copious technical difficulties, that I was feeling a little overwhelmed and ill-prepared. In addition to that, I was instructed over lunch by the two people up from Atlanta that I'm going to find myself having to take the reins and such because apparently I am increasingly becoming more of a coordinator in addition to just ordinary customer service responsibilities (even though the coordination extends only to myself and my co-worker).

The boss came by my cubicle during one of my more despondent moods and gave me a little pep-talk for no particular reason. He is a really sincere man, so my spirits improved. I know there are too few people doing too much work for not enough pay and that has made a lot of people here very bitter, and while I don't always agree with some of the methods that are employed (already) the work we're all doing is important. It's not some mundane job in some faceless corporation.

Later, one of my co-workers came by and invited me to the movies with some other Baha'i youth. My first reaction was to decline. I told myself I would decline because I have a lot of things to get done. I haven't unpacked a lot of things and I need to go grocery shopping, change my license to Illinois, get a library card, change my voter registration, pay bills, do the laundry, etc. but I think the real reason was anxiety and fear. That is sad to admit, but it's true. I have gone so long without interacting with people my own age that I think I may have forgotten how. I've become so accustomed to interacting with people 20 years older than me that sometimes people my own age make me nervous. And then again it could be that I'm too jaded and serious minded to loosen up.

It didn't take much persistence for me to give in. We went to see the movie "Juno" which was outstanding, much to my surprise. I enjoyed myself, and I enjoyed the movie. It's unfortunate I have to force myself to do these kinds of things, especially since it's rarely disastrous.

After the movie, I came back to Wilmette for the Nineteen Day Feast, which was postponed to this weekend because of the weather during the week. Mind you it's been snowing all day so we've probably received may 3-4 inches. I walked around the corner in the snow to the Baha'i Home for the Aged, which has sort of been converted into the Baha'i Center for Wilmette. The turnout was small because of the weather (maybe 15-20 people) but it was a nice enough Feast. It really made me miss the Baha'i community back in Little Rock, namely because I know everyone there. It seemed a little awkward to be in the new community attending an event for the first time and being met with stares of curiosity. I introduced myself and I got to socialize with a few people after the consultative portion.

One of the youth (I say "youth" but it's a loose term - I should say "people in their 20's" instead) invited me to come with a group of them to The Cheesecake Factory. I intended to decline but I couldn't turn down an opportunity to get to know people in my own community. We had such a diverse group! There were two Baha'is visiting from Switzerland and New Zealand and another here on a term of service from France, in addition to maybe 8 or so other local "people in their 20's." It was a true joy to get to know some of them better, and I'm glad I went. I feel myself slowly becoming better integrated into the community and some of the loneliness and longing for community life is slipping away.

Tomorrow I'm planning on going to the Baha'i Home for the Sunday shindig they have around here - a Baha'i "school" for children, classes for junior youth, study circles and a study class for adults. Hopefully I'll get to meet some more Baha'is there. I'm even mulling around in my mind teaching children's classes with one of the other youth in one of the suburbs. After you're engaged in Baha'i community life and you're away from it for a time, it feels like something is missing in your life.

Leia Mais…

A Day in the Life....

I often imagine that people often wonder what a typical day might be like for me in Chicago, even though I only got here last week and people could probably care less. Nevertheless, if you decide to continue, I will subject you to just that. Except I haven't taken pictures of my apartment yet because there are still boxes everywhere, and it is, in general, a huge mess. So we'll start with me walking out the front door:

This is Ye Olde Apartment Building, better known as Linden Crest Apartments. It was built in 1924, which makes it old (my apologies if you were born around that time but my perspective on time is pretty limited). I would say which one of those windows is my apartment but I'd hate for someone to come by and try to rob me. However, I will say that the local, one woman neighborhood watch is located in the right bottom window in the center. This lady is perched by the window at nearly all times, eyeballing you as you walk into and out of the area.

This leads out to the street from the courtyard. You have to watch out for those steps there. They're very treacherous. From here you turn left toward Linden Avenue. The rich people live across the street in those million dollar homes I'll never be able to afford.

When you cross Linden which is right on the corner, you turn left toward work and this is what you see. In the distance to the left you have the Baha'i House of Worship, which I get to see every morning and evening as I enter and leave work. There's also a grocery store across the street to the left. In fact, I pretty much never have to leave a two block radius of my apartment. There's a grocery store, two cleaners, a hardware store, my insurance agent, my work place, my apartment, two Chinese restaurants, the EL stop, and the bus stop.

This is the door to the office. We're not located in the main Baha'i National Center, which is sometimes a good thing. For instance, there's a new dress code that's been implemented, which states that men must wear ties (which necessitates a dress shirt). Since we're a satellite office away from the prying eyes of the National Assembly we manage to get away with having our top button on the dress shirt unbuttoned. Such lackadaisical behavior wouldn't be tolerated over at the main office! Sure it seems minor but trust me when I say that the increase in comfort has resulted in at least a 5% increase in productivity.

This is my cubicle. I know it looks uninhabited except for the papers everywhere, but I've only had it a week. My co-worker, Sonia, shares the space to the right. Hopefully those bookshelves will be full of books soon and I'm sure I'll soon have so many papers spread out that you won't even be able to see the desktop.

Where are pictures of my co-workers, you ask? Well, you can't fault me for not making an effort but every time I tried to take a picture of one of them they vanished faster than the speed of light. Maybe with some time I'll be able to sneak up on them and catch them in their natural environment, hunched over a desk peering into the computer screen.

One of the nice things about living in Chicago is the presence of a major international airport. Of course this presents wonderful opportunities for travel so I've been watching some of the airfares online. Today I noticed that I could purchase a ticket to Montego Bay, Jamaica ($125) for less money than a ticket back to Little Rock ($199). Of course I guess that's little surprise given how important of an airport O'Hare is. It's the second busiest in the world, and it used to be the first before 2005 when Atlanta's Hartsfield-Jackson took over the top spot. More than 76 million passengers passed through O'Hare last year - imagine!

Things at work aren't quite in full swing yet since so much of the operation is still based in Atlanta, so I've had quite a few opportunities to read through the news. There's been plenty of interesting stuff but the most ridiculous has been from everyone's favorite crazy South American leader, "President" Hugo Chavez of Venezuela. Apparently he's gotten into a spat with the leader of Colombia, who happens to be fairly pro-American in sharp contrast to President Chavez's very anti-American stance. This has led him to question whether or not the remains of Simon Bolivar, returned to Venezuela from Colombia in 1842, are authentic. "Are those really Bolivar's remains in the National Pantheon? We're going to verify this."

That's exactly the sort of nonsense you expect to see in an African paper. It always amazed me how simple-minded politicians there would be and how they would use cheap ploys like this to strum up support among the uneducated masses. What's worse is that people eat it up. However, what's more hilarious is a goof on CNN's part. Apparently their Spanish-language channel ran an image of President Chavez with the caption "Who killed him?", which led Chavez to declare that CNN was trying to incite an assassination attempt against him. CNN apologized and said the caption was meant for a picture of Sean Taylor, a football star who was shot and killed.

These are the people who are running the world.

Leia Mais…

A School's End

I learned a day or so ago that Maxwell International Baha'i School was closing by order of the National Spiritual Assembly. It appears that it's no longer able to sustain itself financially and that, coupled with "other issues," is forcing the school to close. That's little surprise since enrollments have apparently fallen by half in the past 10 years. I'm not particularly well connected with the Maxwell community but of course you hear rumors in the wider community. Every school is plagued with difficulties but it's sad to see an institution of Baha'i education suffer from so many problems of the "real world" as it were.


I must be prematurely turning into a crabby old man for feeling like some fault is with the students. Then again I've never had a very rosy outlook on youth in the community. They're either extremely committed or woefully disobedient to the Cause. I know a lot of youth go through a rebellious stage where religion means nothing to them and more often than not they end up returning to some moral lifestyle. I can only imagine what faculty and staff members at the school must have to deal with when parents send their bad kids to the school in the hopes that they'll reform.


I don't know exactly how I feel about the school closing but I do commend the National Assembly for "daring" to take a bold step. Sometimes I feel Baha'i institutions allow themselves to be paralyzed to take a bold step forward out of fear of blowback from conservative community members. So maybe it wasn't the right decision but at least they made a decisive decision. Hmm...that doesn't seem like proper grammar.

Leia Mais…

Here, There & Back Again

Last week, I started work. Officially I work for the Baha'i Distribution Service (BDS), which is an arm of the larger Baha'i Publishing Trust (BPT). I'll be the lead customer service representative once they close down the BDS branch in Atlanta in January but up until that point I'll essentially be in training and doing on-the-job training during the transition. In addition to filling the orders that come by e-mail, fax, phone and the website, I'll be handling some of the international accounts, which should prove to be interesting.

As for the training, they are running us ragged...

By the middle of December, we're supposed to have learned what takes most people two months, so essentially we're learning at twice the pace. Last week and this week I've been in Atlanta, but next week I'll be in Chicago. Following that we go back to Atlanta for a week, back to Chicago for another week and finally to Orlando for the Social & Economic Development Conference. At the conclusion of the conference and our Christmas break, we're back in Chicago for the foreseeable future, supposedly fully trained and fielding orders.

All of this traveling around leaves me with only this holiday weekend to move into my new apartment, unless of course I wanted to try to move in on a Saturday and Sunday only. When I arrived back home on Wednesday I have to rush to pack up the few remaining things that my parents didn't pack so that on Thursday we can begin driving the moving truck up to Chicago after Thanksgiving dinner. Naturally we won't make it all the way, but part of the way is better than nothing. That gives us Friday, Saturday and Sunday to do the majority of the moving. My parents are also staying over until Wednesday so that while I'm training down the street a few other things can be done.

So far, things are going fairly well. I've been enjoying my time in Atlanta, although the near constant traveling and stress of wrapping up things at home is wearing on me. Nevertheless, the friends here in Atlanta are all a joy and despite some tedious moments of training now that we're all getting to know one another better there's a great deal more humor involved (which of course I enjoy!).

The hectic pace is keeping me on my toes, but I'm really very much looking forward to moving into my own place! My eye is surely on that prize.

Leia Mais…

A New Beginning

I've decided to pick up blogging here again. Everyone seemed to enjoy it during my time in Africa, so I thought I'd continue the tradition of cataloging new steps in my life. Next week I start work at the Baha'i Publishing Trust, which will necessitate a move to the Chicago area. It will be my first "real" job, as well as my first time living away from home. People seem to think that my time in Africa will have prepared me well for being on my own but I know it didn't provide me with the sort of practical experience that would assist in a place like Chicago. But I'm steeling myself for a lot of baptism by fire, which I know is soon to come!

Tomorrow morning, I'm going to Chicago with my parents to try to find an apartment. Next Tuesday I leave for Atlanta for training. It's a little unclear at this point how long that might take, but I was encouraged to find a place in Chicago "as soon as possible." Since I'll be working during the week starting Tuesday with only the weekends off (flying back and forth between Little Rock and Atlanta), I've had to give myself a crash course in apartment finding so that hopefully we can pin down a few leads up there between tomorrow and Sunday. Aside from scouting out the area, it will give my parents an opportunity to visit the Baha'i House of Worship and see the area where I'll be working and living, which I hope will ease whatever anxiety they may have about the move.

Incidentally, I won't be living and working in Chicago itself. I'll actually be working in a little town called Wilmette (also home to the Temple) and hopefully living in either Wilmette or Evanston. My goal is either to live within easy driving distance or near enough to public transportation that I can take the EL or bus to work. Thankfully, the office is half a block from an EL stop so that simplifies things. It's actually a great relief to me that I won't be forced to live and work in Chicago. While I enjoy the amenities of a large city, I don't necessarily think I'd enjoy living in one. The Wilmette/Evanston area (especially Wilmette) is a pleasant area, largely residential, with tree-lined streets and nice little shops and restaurants. It's far more reminiscent of my home town than a place with the hustle and bustle of downtown Chicago. But it's a comfort to know that all the greatness that is the city is only half an hour or so away so that a young person like me who is supposed to be (in theory) enjoying life can partake in all that the city has to offer.

For all the excitement of leaving my home and striking out on my own for the first time in my life, it's still a little bittersweet. I've lived here all my life (save a brief jaunt to Tanzania) so I have a certain attachment to the place. The South is a very unique place filled with unique people and unique experiences, and I'll be hard pressed to find its warmth and comfort in a place like Chicagoland. I'll also be leaving the Baha'i community in which I've essentially been raised (in the Faith), where I've served side-by-side with loving people for four years now. They are very much like my family and leaving them will be just as difficult as leaving my actual family.

But still the excitement outweighs the anxiety and the worries, the sadness and the reluctance to leave behind everything you know. As `Abdu'l-Baha said, "A moving object is a living object whereas that which is motionless and inert is as dead." It seems that I've been "as dead" long enough, so here's to movement and life.

Leia Mais…

Monthly Mish Mash

"Work for the day of Universal Peace. Strive always that you may be united. Kindness and love in the path of service must be your means."

- `Abdu'l-Baha

I have absolutely no idea what to say but some impulse is driving me to make a post, so I guess things will come as a matter of course. And evidently I'm turning posting into a monthly affair!

The beginning of this week I actually made it to the movies with one of the Baha'i youth. We saw "Dreamgirls," which was quite good. I enjoyed the play a great deal when we saw it at The Rep, but I was afraid that Beyonce would really ruin the movie. She can't act her way out of a paper bag, and I can't stand the sound of her voice. Nevertheless, she did a good enough job that it didn't ruin the rest of the movie. She even sang passably well.

It was so nice to get out of the house without my parents or going to school or going to something that you might as well call work. My social network has collapsed in on itself like a neutron star with practically everyone I know graduated and moved away or something to that effect, even sometimes driven away or forgotten by my own lack of attention. Unfortunately, my university is so non-traditional that it's a bit difficult to forge any sort of friendship. Everyone (myself included) comes to class and then goes back to their other life. Campus life exists in an odd sort of form, but I did the extracurricular activities thing in high school and now I feel too old for them or maybe just uninterested altogether.

My damnable glasses have broken again. They broke in Africa, so I bought another pair and now these have broken. I guess the arms of glasses aren't made to be particularly durable or maybe I'm just especially rough on them. I'll go the weekend being essentially blind because our optometrist is closed until Monday. I'm supposed to be doing a theatrical sort of thing at the Baha'i Centre for our third Sunday devotionals, so now I'll be holding the script in my face and peering at the audience!

Mitra just sent an e-mail about making breakfast on Saturday morning, which conjured up nice memories. I was always hours behind everyone else for breakfast on every other day of the week but I tried to make it for Saturday and Sunday breakfasts, mostly because they were substantially later. I can recall rolling out of the mosquito net, tossing on some wrinkled pajamas and jostling down the stairs, hitting the third (?) from the top which was loose and always made a noise in the process. Put a tea bag in the cup, pour in the hot water, grunt a greeting to everyone, grab a chapati, snag a chunk of homemade cheese, spread it out, put on some eggs, put on some bacon or avocado if we had them, and slowly begin to wake up. So often life here seems to be ordered around things, appointments. It's sort of irritating sometimes.

This evening I went to dinner with my parents (Friday tradition), two aunts and an uncle. My mother had originally planned to go to Ireland with my two aunts and another friend. Then the plan changed to me and my father meeting her in Scotland after Ireland. And now things have changed altogether, and we're discussing the possibility of the whole family going to Ireland and Scotland. It will certainly be the most grandiose vacation we've ever taken and, as my aunt pointed out, probably one of the last we will take together as a family. I'm really looking forward to it myself, and I know my mother is definitely excited about it.

Today, I received a package in the mail from a friend of mine in New York. She mailed me a big batch of cookies as her contribution to my "war on homework." This was a greatly appreciated gesture, and it's these random acts of kindness that temporarily lift your spirits and keep you happy and hopeful.

At least until your glasses break. =P

Leia Mais…

Hail to the Chief

"Until all nations and peoples become united by the bonds of the Holy Spirit in this real fraternity, until national and international prejudices are effaced in the reality of this spiritual brotherhood, true progress, prosperity and lasting happiness will not be attained by man."

- `Abdu'l-Baha

I have been having some really weird dreams about Tanzania. Last night I had a dream about returning to Tanzania. I guess the premise was that I'd only returned to the U.S. for a short period of time like I did in August and now I was returning to my service post. For some reason I thought I was supposed to return on January 29th but then someone told me I was supposed to have gone on January 23rd. I completely tore up my room in a horrible panic looking for the ticket and then when I finally found it, the ticket - for AtlanticAir, does that even exist? - said January 23rd. ThenI woke up!

A few nights ago, I dreamed I was elected the President of Tanzania. Apparently there was a national sensation about a mzungu (white person) being elected to the presidency. I was busy going around Dar es Salaam visiting the homes of the Baha'is trying to figure out if I was allowed to be a Baha'i and president at the same time. I remember visiting so many of the friends. Some of them were happy about it, some of them were upset and others were just flat out yelling at me, as if it were my fault I was elected.

Anyway, while I was in Tanzania I tried to keep up with the countries and states of origin of the people who were visiting my blog. It was interesting and encouraging to me to see how many "international" visitors there were because I know first hand how much of a change in attitude toward the world you can have just by exposure to people of different cultures, even if it is through personal thoughts and other sorts of exposure that blogs can provide. You can also draw a lot of conclusions by looking to see which countries visitors came from - most were in the developed world or countries where there is an emphasis on information technology (India, China, etc.). There are huge gaps when it comes to Africa, the Middle East, Eastern Europe, South America and Southeast Asia. An explanation could be that the blog is in English or something to that effect, but still I think it's interesting to see what might be construed as the lack of diversity in the diversity of people who visited!

I've made some little maps here of the countries and U.S. states of origin of a lot of the people who have visited the blog. For those of you who are uncomfortable with the idea of trackers and what not, don't worry! It's not like it tells me who you are. =P It just says what country of U.S. state/Canadian province you're from and the town you're in. That's it!

Leia Mais…

Adjust Your Vision

"O Man of Two Visions! Close one eye and open the other. Close one to the world and all that is therein, and open the other to the hallowed beauty of the Beloved."

- Bahá'u'lláh

Well, I'm feeling considerably better about school now. I met with the new coordinator of my degree programme last week, and I feel confident that he's going to actually take the department places. Before, everything lacked the sort of energy, optimism and forward movement that he's been able to bring. His classes are engaging but more importantly I can tell already that he genuinely cares about the students in the programme. We've already basically remapped my degree to be more in line with what I want to do, and we're working on some programmes to where I'm not limited to the very limited language offerings at my university to satisfy the fairly hefty language requirements for my degree. The fact that he's helping the students focus themselves on creating a degree that will offer practical assistance when we get into the "real world" is one of the best things that can be done at our university with so many non-traditional students, and I'm really pleased that he's securing money for us to study abroad and attend various conferences around the country on relevant topics.

I'm going to be concentrating on education and development for my degree, and I'm seriously thinking about a minor in Middle Eastern studies. I imagine that will take me to the Middle East at some point for study abroad. The coordinator is in the process of studying Arabic, which I think would be a fantastic if complicated language to pick up. I'd much rather learn Persian, but I think the opportunities for that are fairly limited since it's probably not safe for me to go to Iran, not least of which because I'm an American and a Bahá'í.

Speaking of which, just as important to me was the professor's respect for me as a member of the Bahá'í Faith. He has included "activism" as part of the requirements for the class, which sent up a red flag for me because we're not supposed to get involved in these sorts of political charged debates and activities that seem to dominate "activism" on college campuses. After he listened to my reasoning, he explained that I didn't have to participate in anything that would put me a position I wasn't comfortable with and that the activism of the class wasn't politically oriented.

In addition, when I introduced myself to the class, he encouraged me to identify myself as a Bahá'í (I'm still a little shy to do so after returning from a country with such a large and sometimes hostile Muslim population that it wasn't always safe or appropriate to do so) and explain the Faith to the class when he discovered that so few of them had ever heard of it. He encouraged the same thing during our Model Arab League/Model United Nations team meeting this evening and asked me to specifically highlight my year of service in East Africa and my reasons for doing it. It's important to me that he's so enthusiastic about exposing the students here in the traditionally religiously conservative South to something that's different from what they've heard and seen not just because more people know about my religion now but also because it helps broaden the vision in a place where vision tends to be quite willfully narrow.

Leia Mais…

The Struggle

It's 2:45 AM, and I can't sleep. Unfortunately I'm very poor at regulating my sleeping pattern. There's always something that keeps me up late and then I end up sleeping in late, which throws the whole schedule off the next day. It's a vicious cycle.

Every Martin Luther King, Jr. Day there's some depressing story plastered across the washingtonpost.com website, which serves as my home page. This year it indicated that something like 15% of college students think that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "I Have a Dream" speech is about abolishing slavery. Maybe 15% isn't a very large number of students, but should we have anyone going into college without knowing what that speech is about? If they've managed to live 18+ years of their lives without that fairly simple piece of knowledge then it makes me wonder what else they don't know.

At any one given time at my university there are probably more remedial writing and mathematics classes than the entry-level writing and mathematics classes themselves. It's just mind-boggling to me how people have gone through at least 12 years of education without gaining fundamental writing and mathematics skills. And I do mean fundamental - it doesn't take a Faulkner to get into Composition I or an Archimedes to get into College Mathematics. What's more there are three levels of remedial classes and apparently people have had to take all three of them before being able to take the actual class itself. The obvious exception to these sorts of things is people with a learning disability, but there aren't enough people with a learning disability to account for all of these remedial classes.

Speaking of university, it's amazing how much we have to spend on textbooks. I've spent at least $250, which is cheap because some of the books I already had because my university's professors are too lazy to use updated material and stay on the cutting edge, preferring instead to use the same transparencies (not even PowerPoint) for at least a decade before realizing that information changes. I understand that some Virginia congressman is trying to create something like a digital database of textbooks, which I suppose is a good idea. What would be better would be policy makers finally recognizing the value of college education and putting enough money into helping students get there, giving them a proper foundation before they get there and insuring that there are high standards for the quality of education at the institutions themselves. I know a few tenured professors who need the boot!

I have honestly struggled to go back to school this week. I don't know if it's because sometimes it seems like an exercise in futility or I'm afraid to go back after taking the Africa break or just downright disillusionment or something else along those lines. Mitra's advice was to take the bit between my teeth and show them who I am, which really seems to be the best way of going about things if only I could find that necessary "oomph" to get going. I keep trying to remind myself of all the African friends I made who wanted so desperately to attend university, but there's just some sort of intense malaise that's settled over me that prevents me from getting fired up about anything.

Leia Mais…

Day 311: The Return

"Prejudice is an emotional commitment to an untruth."

- Dr. Magdalene Carney

I've been under increasing international pressure to update this blog. People have employed various methods of coercion ranging from a comment to a phone call to threatening physical violence if I don't do it right now. Hence, I'm updating. But if you're looking for an update about my trip to western Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda and Kenya then you're going to have to wait. Not only would that take most of a day to compile, I'm saving a lot of stories for a series of devotionals I'll be holding to share experiences about my trip. So if you want to hear about it all, then the first one is on January 13.

The question on everyone's mind is: "Are you happy to be home?". Unfortunately, the answer is less straight forward than one might expect. Of course I'm happy to be home and see my friends and family but I also left behind friends and family. To be honest, I didn't think I would miss Africa very much at all. I knew I'd deeply miss the Sabets but the place itself left me so frustrated at times that I was looking for a way out. The corruption, scandal and attitude of people launched a three-prong attack on the hope I had for Africa and as the days dragged on my optimism dragged down. However, now that I'm not there, it's a bad case of not knowing what you have until it's gone.

So far I've been deeply unhappy about having to leave, which brings along with it all sorts of attending depression and regrets. I'm slowly getting over that as I readjust to life in the United States, but I think I will be in a permanent state of limbo about our lifestyle now that I've seen and been in the "other" side where development is at a pace of two steps forward, one step back. And that's just not going to help things because God knows I was cynical enough in the first place! =P But somewhat uplifting was the Baha'i conference on social and economic development that I recently attended where I had the opportunity to meet some of the Baha'is who are actively working around the world to tackle the social and economic ills facing society. There is work being done but it's pace will condemn hundreds of millions to an unnecessary death.

Samir and I were discussing the other day that the supremacy of the United States is on the decline. He identified the loss of our competitive edge in sports as the most obvious harbinger of the loss of our competitiveness in other areas, but signs are already cropping up that point to the decline of economic might and the failure of our education system. The world without a dominant super power will be dangerous but far more dangerous is the fact that our social ills are eating at the vitals of every society on Earth. The decline is not just national but global.

The more contact I have with younger generations the more obvious that seems. Our youth seem destined to fail society in the long-run by neglecting to recognize the source of its illness. There seems to be a sharp disparity between the people concerned about and actively working toward social justice between just my own generation and the one reaching adolescence now, and I truly feel they will barter away the morality and vitality of humankind in exchange for the materialism and earthly comfort that dominates their everyday lives. Whether or not it's their fault or the fault of their parents for instilling those values in them is irrelevant. What's more important is the action that's taken now - which will be far more reactive than it should be - to address the situation and ensure that the world is still around in fifty years.

But, hey, it's got to get worse before it gets better, right?

I have returned to Little Rock to find out that my entire department at the university seems to have vanished. It seems that there's a single professor coordinating and teaching everything. How can one guy run a degree programme? As if scheduling classes wasn't difficult before, now it's next to impossible. God only knows when I'll be able to graduate now. I have some very specific classes that I have to take and with only one professor teaching who knows when they'll actually be offered, or if the degree programme itself will even be continued. In fact, one of the classes seems to have been reduced from an entire semester of lecture to ten days abroad during the summer. With the shift in my concentration to education & development I'll have to backtrack a few things, but it looks like it'll be independent study. And with just the one guy (I'm assuming), I'll basically be paying them to teach myself.

This is all speculation until the university reopens on Monday and I can determine the specifics; nevertheless, it's really stressing me out. How am I going to graduate now? Will I have to switch majors? Transfer schools? And why would you just up and reduce the size of a department like that, especially "international studies" in an age like this? I'm worried I may just have to settle on a political science degree. Or pay thousands of dollars to teach myself international studies. =/

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