A Day for Me

(From April 5)

A rough start to the week—but a good one, academically, intellectually, consumer-wise. I have a feeling this will be a shorter blog post, as I’m feeling slightly less inspired and a little less willing to engage with my thoughts than usual.

Yesterday was a regular old Monday. Hours of class and presentation, including an extraordinary presentation by my IHP and Harvard peer, Samantha. I felt like I was learning a lot, my mind was incredibly intellectually stimulated, and I was pretty self-satisfied with my ability to stay mindfully engaged the whole day, even though it took a lot of effort. I visited the Bo’Kaap Museum with Sally after class, a museum dedicated to the evolution of the neighborhood in which we are residing for the remainder of this week. It wasn’t quite what I expected, but I still learned a bit and met a native of New Orleans!

I rested in the house for the remainder of the night, doing homework, reading my book, and watching Shonda Rhimes’s wonderful lineup.

Today involved a really difficult lineup of classes and discussion that left me feeling frustrated, angsty, and isolated. Luckily, I have a friend like Caitlin, with whom I can relax and laugh and simply be without worrying about judgment or sadness. She assisted me as I engaged in some retail therapy at the South African Forever 21 and a nearby market. We also went to a local souvenir shop for some postcards and a liquor store for some wine, which we’d drink during our next experience.

Along with Super Sally, we drove up to the top of Signal Hill, the hill which we visited on the first day of our program. We settled in around an hour before actual sunset and discussed important and intriguing parts of our lives and our experiences. I simply loved enjoying the view, the moment of reflection, the delicious South African wine, the crispness with two people whom I love, appreciate, and respect so deeply. It was wonderful.

Tonight, I may be heading out on the town in order to enjoy Cape Town’s nightlife before retreating into the periphery of Langa township, which is far and isolated from the center of the city. When I told my host mom that I was planning on going out, she literally exclaimed, “finally!!!” This coming from a devout Muslim who abstains completely from alcohol. This makes me think that it really is about time I venture out of my bubble.

So, though there are many things to discuss and think about and reflect upon, I’m giving myself the night off. I’m going to relax and enjoy myself and be happy, because I’ve been wearing myself down, focusing so closely and stressing myself quite unnecessarily. SO tonight is all about Aubs—and I can’t wait!

With love,

Aubrey Noelle

Culture, Climbing, Coffee

(From April 3)

A packed, educational, beautiful, relaxed weekend—not a combination of adjectives often uttered in sequence, especially on an IHP program. Yet, Cape Town provided the perfect set of activities to compose two days that allowed for a wonderful intro to the city.

            I woke up (sadly) to an alarm on Saturday morning, a necessity in meeting with my Neighborhood Day group in order to figure out our presentation. Savannah and I schlepped down our hill around 10 AM in order to meet with our other group members and cobble together a coherent idea. We ended up settling down at a WiFi-generous location called Honest Chocolate Café, at which I was surprisingly able to refrain from buying any merchandise. Of course, I literally still had Nutella on my mouth from my breakfast sandwich which Jenn literally had to point out about a half hour into our meeting, so my restraint isn’t actually that commendable. Admittedly, I was pretty distracted during this meeting by my first WiFi access in about twenty-four hours, and the inundation of Snapchat and Facebook notifications was mesmerizing. I nailed down my part of the presentation, though, and Jenn and I headed out of the café around noon in order to begin our real weekend.

            We walked to the Slave Lodge, a museum dedicated to the history of slavery in South Africa and Cape Town in particular. I was actually really surprised by this; I had been completely unaware that slavery existed in such a reaching form in South Africa. It wasn’t actually abolished here until 1834, and its history here in Cape Town had been relatively ignored and its victims unrecognized for over a century. The Slave Lodge museum did a really commendable job at paying homage to the slaves here in Cape Town, their contributions to the city’s culture, and to the immense hardships they faced. Saying I “enjoyed” the museum sounds a little weird, but I learned a lot and was very humbled by the information.

            Jenn’s friend from school, Sarah, met up with us and gave us some insider knowledge on the city gained from half a semester studying abroad here. It was fun to watch her and Jenn interact and talk about people and places from back in the US—it made me excited to reunite with all of my friends and family and attempt to explain the experiences that I’ve had!! We ate at a cute little café with outdoor picnic tables and a delicious burger (not as good as the one in Rio, but will any burger ever be as delectable?). When I tried to order coffee at the restaurant, they explained that the region had been having so much trouble with the water pressure that they actually weren’t able to make coffee. Literally, whaaat? My mind began to race with hypotheses of these ramifications, and how it mirrored the water crisis in Sao Paulo, and whether people living further from the city were also having these issues, and how climate change may or may not be responsible. I guess you could say this program has changed the way I think, as three months ago, my reaction would have been “f*ck it, I’m going to Starbucks.” So, I mean, that’s good.

            After lunch, we wandered into a really cool, artsy market, reminiscent of those in India and Istanbul, in which I spent literally every cent of cash that I had on me. Woops. Bargaining is a little stressful here in that if you try hard enough, you can probably get them down to a third of the price they originally quote. As I’ve established, I am such a bad bargainer, it’s embarrassing, so I probably pay WAY too much for everything that I buy. Oh well—it looks too cool to pass up!

            I got back home in the late afternoon and promptly took a nap, because that’s what I do. Savannah and my homestay parents departed for different evening venues, so I had the house to myself. I organized my suitcase, watched Night at the Museum (crazy Saturday night, wooo!), and ate a delicious dinner.

            It’s so hard to describe the food here, but I’ll attempt. I also don’t know how representative of South African cuisine my homestay’s food is, but it’s delicious and interesting. It’s like a mix of Indian food and American South food. One night, for example, we had crispy, finger-licking fried chicken and creamed corn; tonight, I had a curried beef with roti. Food tends to be really savory, and I’ve had some great, fresh veggies and fruits. Tea seems to be really popular here (probably a British holdover), and there are KFC’s—yes, Kentucky Fried Chicken’s—on literally EVERY corner. It’s like more common than Subway or Starbs in the US. So hilarious. I’m eating more healthily here than I did in either Brazil or India, which is a nice change. Meals here leave me feeling a little lighter, less bloated, and less exhausted, which is great!

            After my wild Saturday (woohoo, Ben Stiller!), I woke up early (aka 7 AM) to meet up with Izzy and Jenn for a hike up Table Mountain, one of the seven natural wonders of the world. We weren’t quite sure how to actually get to the mountain, so we stopped at a nearby Hilton Hotel’s concierge for directions. Serendipitously, a tourist from DC just so happened to be departing in a taxi for Table Mountain at that moment, so we hopped in the car with him!!! He graciously paid for the ride, saying “you’re college students—I remember those days.” We were obviously off to a great start.

            After a few false starts in attempting to find the trail, we began the trek up the mountainside—and boy, was it treacherous. We were literally rock climbing—as in, using our hands and feet to clamber up these giant, practically vertical boulders. After a few minutes, I was too exhausted to be scared, but we took numerous breaks in order to catch our breath and appreciate the increasingly stunning views. I don’t know how tall this mountain was, and I don’t have WiFi to find out, but both Izzy and Jenn are college athletes, and it took us two and a half hours to get up this freaking mountain. At times, I literally looked straight up, 90 degree angle, and felt positive, with a sinking feeling, that there was no way in hell I’d be able to reach the top. But guess what—WE DID IT. I honestly was so proud of us, and felt super gratified and rewarded once looking out over the sweeping vistas of Cape Town. We ate lunch at a touristy but fun restaurant on the top of the mountain, took numerous pictures at what felt like the peak of the world, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. It was truly beautiful—company, views, and the endorphins of physical activity converged in a single moment. ILY Jenn and Iz!

            We took a five-minute gondola back down the mountain, and were kind of amazed at the difference in experience between hiking and gondola-riding. We agreed that hiking, while utterly exhausting, was so much more rewarding!!!

            Back to Bo’kaap we went, and back to napping I went. Duh. I met up with Jenn and Eli in a city-wide search for WiFi—surprisingly, almost all cafes and shops are either completely closed on Sundays or shuttered up early in the afternoon, so we were pretty desperate in our search. Eli and I finally settled upon a new-age Irish pub thing, and my WiFi was actually good enough to videochat with my parents for the first time in about a week!!! I cried a little bit talking to my dad, but recovered quickly. I’ll be seriously stoked to see them again. Only question is whether I’ll cry a lot or a lot when I land at Long Beach Airport.

            Wow, I am currently exhausted—I guess hiking up five vertical miles can do that to a girl whose daily exercise has become shoveling ice cream into her mouth! (Half kidding.) I’ve spent the night reading my captivating novel, working on my term paper of 3,000 words (which is lol-worthy, considering one of my finals this past semester was to write TWO 3,000 word essays in the span of eight hours for a law school course), having heart-to-hearts with my fab roomie, and drinking cup after cup of scrumptious coffee. Feels like I’ll be able to get to sleep pretty easily, though, as my eyes are fluttering shut on their own volition. So, goodnight, dear readers, and I hope your weekend treated you as well as mine did me.

Peace, love, naps,

Aubrey

PS—I got a fab room back at school—thx for all of the crossed fingers!!!

Fine Art, Facial Expressions, and Feeling Fine

I'm feeling extra ~cultural~ and ~sophisticated~ after two days of enjoying the arts... and suffering through a few hours of class in the meantime.

Yesterday was my last Monday of class in Brazil (yay!), and it was actually pretty cool. It involved each of the students standing in front of the class and providing a four-minute presentation on the topic of our Comparative Analysis projects.

Have I described the CA project yet? Probably, maybe, who knows, but I changed everything about my topic, so I'll re-explain. Our final project for one of our classes in the program is a 3,000 word comparative essay in which we (you guessed it) compare a certain phenomenon that occurs in all three countries which we visit. We can choose almost any aspect of the city, as long as it is "observable." This has posed a huge prob for me, because I tend to trust secondary sources, scholarly research, and academic analysis more than my own eyes. The formula has been changed: instead of using experts' ideas to formulate my own opinion, I'm supposed to just watch people walk around, make up something on the fly, then find a paper or two that support my thesis.

Yikes. I have so many academic, moral, and personal issues with this approach. I hate that after only a month in each location, with just a few hours of observation, I'm expected to make some grand statement about a city, its culture, and its people without supporting evidence. With all of my past papers in college, I've felt like I'm contributing, at least in a small way, to the scholarly world. I feel like my work actually means something and that I believe what I'm writing. This is the first time in a long time that I feel like I'm writing a paper just for the sake of getting a grade and that I would legit be embarrassed for a professor or academic to read it and see how little real evidence there is.

my freshman year writing teacher if she saw my essay

There's also the discomfort in literally observing citizens of a city going about their daily lives and attempting to critique them. Like, who am I to judge this guy for littering on the side of the street??

Actually, wait no... that's pretty effed up... I'm gonna pick up that piece of trash for him and give him evil eyes from afar.

do your part, sir

But it really does make me feel voyeuristic and lofty and self-important to engage in this kind of research.

So clearly, this is a really fun assignment for me. And it will be even more fun if my professors find this post!!! In case of that, this isn't actually Aubrey writing, it's somebody else...

Despite all of the complaints of my conscience and my academic horror, I have indeed settled upon a topic. I'm examining mothers' discipline and sons' obedience in an attempt to capture a sense of gender dynamics in each city that I visit. My fascination with feminism and misogyny, as well as my cluelessness about male children since I grew up without brothers, led me to believe this could be a cool thing to study. So, I've been creeping around parks, taking notes about little five-year-old boys.

Not creepy at all, right???

My presentation went well enough, though, as I managed to suppress my apprehensions and get impassioned about the issues.

After class, a few of us walked to a really cool bookstore near our school to look at some English paperbacks. Plus, it was GIGANTIC. I'm literally such a nerd.

so many floors of books!!!

Though I have this aversion to spending money on books, since I have access to the second largest library in the United States behind the Library of Congress, as well as my adorable home library, I couldn't help but buy this beaut.

YES, it is a collection of short stories about Orange County, California!!! I absolutely could not restrain myself. I figure that since I read a book on each plane ride about the country to which I'm flying, I couldn't ask for a better piece of fiction to accompany on the long flight back to the US in just a month and a half.

Side note--a month and a half. WOW. I am over half-way done with this program and with my international status. So bittersweet.

Back to books: it never takes too long for my homestay family and roommate to notice that I'm a complete bookworm. The other day, when I was reading at the kitchen table, absentmindedly ignoring all distractions for hours on end, my homestay sister commented (slightly alarmed) that I read "a lot." I mean, yeah, sometimes I choose to read my book instead of go out to a club or interact with humans, but that doesn't make me a loser, right? I have lots of friends...

Quite a few of them just happen to be fictional.

I did finish my book last night, a Pulitzer Prize winner called The Goldfinch, which I totes recommend if you're into mystery/drama/art. I stayed up way too late flipping through its final pages, though, and could barely drag myself out of bed this morning into my second-to-last clean outfit (I really need to do laundry).

Luckily for me, today's lecture and classtime were only supposed to last two hours... But of course, it went an extra hour and a half.

I've been told by a fair number of people that subtlety is not my strong suit and that my facial expressions are quite entertaining. I literally don't even notice that my face is moving. Even when I think I'm sitting there, hiding my impatience well and looking super interested, like--

It looks more like--

I promise, I don't even feel my face contorting into my grimaces, and I always think I'm just blinking when in fact I'm dramatically rolling my eyes! Well, I guess the good thing is that if it looks like I'm paying attention to you and that I'm interested in what you're saying.. I actually am!!!

After finishing class (finally), I waltzed off by myself to MASP, the Sao Paulo Museum of Art. Surprisingly and fortunately, admission is free on Tuesdays, and I entered the museum excited for what I'd been told is a pretty cool museum.

Guys, "pretty cool" is an understatement.

This place was incredible.

The museum is set up chronologically, so that you wander through the paintings and sculptures not according to geographical location nor artist but simply according to the year of its creation. The artwork also stood independently, held up by subtle glass supports, so that the museum felt really interactive and open, since the paintings weren't hanging flatly on a wall.

I wandered between the paintings, examining the work first then stepping around to its back to examine the information on the artist and the name of the painting. Oh my god, it was astounding. Rembrandt, Picasso, Manet, Monet, Titian, El Greco, Rivera... It was a dream come true. It was also a pretty small space, so I was actually able to see and appreciate every single piece. I think it's my favorite art museum that I've ever had the opportunity to attend. WOW IT WAS SO FREAKING COOL!!! Having just finished a 771-page novel about the beauty of art, I also felt primed to savor the preciousness, precision, and skill in every work. It was just this awesome collision of the right timing, the right mood, and the right price, ayyy.

I headed back to my home and quickly crashed into bed for a nap.

Upon waking, I ate dinner, watched TV, chatted on the phone with my dad, and played with baby Maria Luisa.

Apparently, though, as happy and good as I feel, I don't quite look it... One of the program directors asked me today if I felt alright since I'm looking "pale and tired."

bye

I mean, maybe it's because I'm kept in class every single day from 9 to 5 and I never get to see the sun and also I stay up way too late reading my book??? But this only heightened my fervor to get to Rio de Janeiro beaches ASAP (four more days!).

Then, my host sister walked in on me eating a tin of cookies around 10 PM (you know, a normal snack) after eating four pieces of toast with Dulce de Leite (okay, less normal now), and asked worriedly, "are you alright? you're eating a lot. are you pregnant?"

ABSOLUTELY NOT, WOW NO, NOT EVEN, NO NO. I almost choked on that eighth cookie that I was inhaling. But apparently I have acquired the eating habits of a human that is growing another human inside of her. That's extremely unworrying and completely fine. My responses have looked a little like--

Because seriously.... I'm fine. Like I really am! I am happy, and satisfied, and apparently kind of hungry. But I'm really enjoying myself and looking forward to Rio in a few days and getting this second midterm season over with! Hopefully, I won't be called "pale" after my week in paradise... But I'll probably still be eating a lot.

Gotta start reading another book, even though it's midnight!!

Buh bye,

Aubs

The North, Jesus' Footsteps, and Don't Go to Rimonim Hotel

Oh my god. How am I going to even summarize the past two days? The past 48 hours have been an absolute whirlwind--probably the craziest days since I've been here in Israel!

So we woke up later in the morning on Tuesday to get some much-needed rest and head up north for my favorite city--HAIFA!!! I tried to describe the beauty to my mom and Jeni, and they were slightly skeptical of my descriptions. I mean, "really pretty gardens" doesn't quite encompass the stunning view of--

and--

Jeni and my mom fell in love with Haifa and the Baha'i Gardens just like I did! The peace, beauty, and warmth of the gardens and the religion enamored us and we fell in love. It was the perfect start to our day.

Me!

The archives at the Baha'i Gardens. Unbelievably enough, this is actually the seventh story of the building--the rest is underground!!!

We drove on to Nazareth, worming our ways through the tiny streets with angry honking Israelis. My poor mother was navigating these headache-worthy streets, and the speeders zipping around us had us like--

Finally, though, we found a mini parking garage and made friends with the owner--he was a sweet guy. Then, we headed to lunch at a little falafel place up the street. My mother and I had falafel, while Jeni ate a delicious steak hummus dish. But of course, no excursion is complete without Jeni getting ripped off, and her dish was four times the price of my own dish. When we told the Morrises the price, they were like--

However, our frustration at the driving and the prices melted away as we entered the Church of the Annunciation, where Gabriel appeared to Mary and told her that she would soon be pregnant with Jesus.

Me and Mary

My mom and me in the church with Mass taking place in the background!

From Nazareth, we drove to Tiberias, a city on the Sea of Galilee, where we planned on staying in our hotel. Oh my god. From the moment we drove up to the hotel, we got wrapped up in controversy. The guard asked if we liked Obama, and we were like--

Very subtly, because while I knew the right answer was--

My mom and Jeni were a little less enlightened and kind of reacted like--

The guard started laughing and waving his hands shouting "No, no, no Obama!!!!!" And we just giggled a little nervously until he let us through.

But that was just the beginning.

We then walked into the lobby with all of our bags and immediately the cocky checking-in guy was like, "Um why did you say you have only two people when you clearly have three? You only purchased a double room. You need a triple."

We attempted to explain that I was intending to sleep on the pullout bed that came in the room but he was all sassy like--

"I hate you"

And was just completely rude. Jeni got super fired up and insisted that we talk to his manager. So we walk into this side room, and the manager was clearly prepped by his minion. He called us liars, insulted us and our country (like who the eff could insult America, come on), and forced us to pay an extra ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS FOR ME TO SLEEP ON A BED THAT WAS ALREADY IN THE ROOM. Literally unbelievable. What it came down to was, I ordered a double bed room with a pull-out couch based on the number of beds, while this hotel accepts reservations based on the number of people. It was an easy problem to solve, but we have never experienced ruder customer service people--EVER. Hence, don't say at this freaking hotel (we promised we'd give them a bad review, so here ya go, Rimonim).

We were literally escorted to our room by our security guard, because we scream danger (well Jeni had steam coming out of her ears at this point, so maybe they thought she was a fire hazard), and we finally get into our dingy little triple/double. The pull-out bed has no mattress, and our room is of course right next to a freaking amusement park that plays crazy club music until 11. Like of course. 

We escaped from the hotel, because we were probs being watched, and we ordered a yummy dinner up the street. We got to sleep super early, because we needed a ton of rest and we had to wake up early enough to stuff ourselves full of $100 worth of free buffet breakfast to make up for my expenses.

Well, we stormed downstairs right as the buffet was opening--and oh my goodness, it was the most delicious spread we'd ever seen. Rugalach, so many fruits, fresh fish, different hunks of cheese, overflowing baskets of bread... I couldn't believe my eyes.

So we stuffed our faces, and then we drove on to Capernaum, the town where Jesus evangelized right on the Sea of Galilee.

The sign

The church

The sea

The Peter statue

I absolutely loved Capernaum this time around, because it was much earlier in the day, which meant cooler air and less people. It was peaceful, humbling, and spiritual.

We then drove on the Safed (pronounced sfaht), a mystical Jewish city that has existed for over a thousand years. It had an art colony, galleries, and ancient synaogues. You guys--it was absolutely stunning. Even ties with Haifa!!! It's a lot of pictures, but definitely look through them!!

So stunning. WOW. We even went to this incredible Yemenite restaurant and made friends with the cook/owner. Loooove. It was a specialty!

It was our favorite place! From Safed, we drove over three hours to get to Jerusalem and visit the Israel Museum. It was actually pretty amazing and fun. We saw the Dead Sea scrolls, an ancient skull, and lots of historical items relating to ancient civilizations. We spent as much time there as we could--which honestly wasn't long; we were exhausted--then we drove back home to Raanana for dinner. We had a yummy French dinner and some ice cream. Then, we drove home to reunite with the family!

It's been an amazing two days. I have loved hanging out with my mom and Jeni, and I have one more day to enjoy Israel. One more day!!! It's actually pretty hard to believe. 

Now, it's almost one in the morning and I feel like I'm falling asleep sitting up. Aghhhh. Good night dearies--one more day!!

<3,

Aubrey

The Holocaust Museum

I felt that my experiences at this specific museum today deserved their own post. The feelings evoked, the lessons learned, and the morality pondered will stay with me forever.

I have been to a Holocaust museum before in DC. I was 13 and immature and wrapped up in the drama of eighth grade. I was sad, sure, but it's different now. I've studied history, especially the World Wars, for five years now. I've been exposed to multiple perspectives on Judaism, Christianity, race, war, and evil. And, perhaps most importantly, I've lived for a month in a Jewish state.

When you walk into Yad Vashem, the museum in Jerusalem, Israel, you are assaulted by harsh concrete and soaring walls of grey. It is built in a manner in which you cannot skip a single room--you must go through the entire museum to get to the exit. You wind your way through about twenty or so large exhibits about the rise of Nazism, the painful process of ghettoization and internment in concentration camps, and the progression of World War II.

I think one of the things that impacted me most was the visual and verbal explanations of Nazism's spread throughout Europe and Africa. It was EVERYWHERE. Greece, Belgium, Tunisia, France, Bulgaria, Poland... the German Reich spanned almost all of Europe. Not to mention--the countries that had escaped Germany's power-hungry rampage closed their borders and their states to desperately fleeing Jews (all except the Dominican Republic and China were closed until 1943). How hopeless it must have seemed. As a Jew, you could hop from country to country, refuge to refuge, attempting to outrun the threat of death--but it was nearly impossible. So the scope of the movement really touched me.

I was sobered and saddened and educated by the two hours I spent in the museum. But I did not cry until I reached the final room. A video of an older woman who had survived the Holocaust was describing her final days on the Death March she was forced to undergo by the fleeing, losing Nazis. She began to describe how she had to literally carry her sister through the harsh conditions, starving and exhausted, in order for her to survive. And then, they reached the hospital, the last destination, and her sister passed away calling out her name. I broke down in that instant. Imagining losing Sierra or Miranda, or having to watch them waste away, or being told that one of them had cried out for me on her deathbed while I was busy recovering from the murder attempts of an entire nation.... I could not bear it. The thought made the entire atrocity very real and very personal.

Then we walked through the Children's Memorial. The tears continued to flow. You walk into a tall, cool, dark hall that has no lights except for six candles whose light is refracted by a plethora of mirrors to create six million points of light. It was like being suspended in the night sky. A looming voice chanted the names and ages of every single child that died in the Holocaust. And while I used to be able to tell myself, "well, at least they will be remembered," a place in memorium seemed to matter so little in that moment. What is the intonation of a few syllables that make up one's name every few hours in a dark room when one's life has been stolen?

Five years old, sixteen years old, seven years old... Each individual lost, a potential scientist, or writer, or leader; every one a friend, a daughter or son; never to be a mother or a father or a wife or a husband. It broke my heart.  And while it made me question how? why?; it seemed to give my own life meaning. It is only by the grace of God or by fate or by luck that I am alive on this earth. I have security, I have love, I have joy. Who am I to squander the gifts I have been given when so many have lost everything? I may not know exactly what I will do with my life, but I know that it will have meaning, and I know it will have an impact. Even if I die tomorrow, I know I'll leave behind friends I made laugh, family I loved, words I've written down, and hearts I've touched. And while I hope and pray that I may be given an extra day, or year, or decade, I can only do my best with every hour given to me. I strive to make the most of them--and sometimes the best way to do that is to write a blog every once in a while.

With many thoughts,
Aubrey Noelle