Back to School

Ah, the joys of beginning classes at U-M. I observed a hapless freshman in the Romance Languages office agonizing over the fact that he couldn't get into his class yet. Since the lady at the desk wasn't being very informative, I chimed in with what I learned the hard way last year- you just have to register for a class you don't intend to take; and the first week is always like this. Poor guy. I guess his advisor didn't warn him.

As for me, I am more mellow this year. If the Lord wants me to get into my classes, voila! Otherwise, I'll be stuck working or something... there's a kaleidoscope of different possibilities which I'm not going to stress over, since I should find out next week what's going on. This year there's no form to fill out to get on the waitlist for French, and I can't register even though there are openings. Instead I was instructed by the office to attend each open section to demonstrate that I am interested. Three of the same French class in a row was a little much, but I tried to play the identical Loto game with good humor. The fourth class was with the same teacher as the first one, and she thought it was ridiculous that I was back again- "It's the same class!" Yes indeed, my thoughts exactly. So I just wrote my name down and left.

Arabic will be determined by the placement test on Thursday evening, which just as last year is on the same night as the first Carmelite meeting of the year. :-( I'd like to get into the third-year level, but who knows what will happen, since I jumped the tracks in the midlde of the summer.

Despite the news that tourists were shot in Jordan this weekend, a hop skip and jump from the museum I visited on my own, I'd like to go back. Maybe winter semester, maybe in the summer- we shall see!

The reluctant nephew

Behold my nephew, Robbie, aged 1 1/2 years. He is really sweet. He also would like me to sign a paper every time he sees me, guaranteeing that he will not be left alone with me, and I will not try to replace my sister. Since I feel this is insulting, he is suspicious of me unless my sister is within view. This dates back to about the second day after his birth. If you know anything about newborn babies, you know that they can hardly focus on anything. I took him into my (loving) arms, and spoke to him. He gazed up at me and then suddenly, stared at me intensely for about 15 seconds, in a kind of hostile way.

Yesterday, though, he did warm up to me a bit. He likes to watch people dance and imitate them, and also be entertained by silly eating performances. I'm afraid this rapport will be destroyed tomorrow when I babysit for him (for the second time ever). Ah well. In a few years he won't even remember how much he feared me. :-) My plan: to drive out fear with fear. If I play scary monster and chase him around the house, he might forget his parents aren't there to protect him!

Home makeover

My dear little sink unit is about to retire from active life and go to a lonely rest in a dump somewhere. It's about 50 years old, and the porcelain enamel is all worn off the sink, so I can't clean it anymore. The brand is "Beauty Queen," which has given me some laughs. I don't know why, but my landlady chose mauve for the new countertop. Gag-worthy. The previous landlord also decided to put some mauve-toned carpet in the hallway, which almost gave me a stroke. Mauve does not match anything else in the house, and it's going to be horrible with all my primary-colored kitchen stuff, and the cabinets. Oh well. A small penance, I guess. I probably won't notice it after a while. Why, oh why do people make churches with mauvish tile and then plan to put orange stained glass in the windows? Please, no!

I got everything cleared out of the sink unit this afternoon in preparation for the new one; only to find out the custom-ordered counter had the hole cut in the wrong place, so they'll have to wait for a new one. No energy left to move anything back...

Dreams and reality

I hear that I will be spending July and August in Lebanon and learning Arabic. I've even got the tickets (with my last name spelled wrong). I'll believe it when I see it. ;-)

The outcome of spending most of my time alone, and even the time in class strangely disconnected (most students are chronically reserved), is that the line between daydreams and reality has become strangely blurred. When talking to someone, it's hard to distinguish whether I'm really talking to a person, or just imagining myself having a conversation. I don't feel "seen". Every word I say seems either too considered and over-rehearsed, or woefully gauche. Am I being myself, or just a representation of myself which I produce to please others? Either I am a talking vapor, or the other person is a mirage.

Maybe I'll be paralyzed with shock when I land in Beirut and find myself on streets teeming with people. Maybe the tide will just wash over me; or maybe its human warmth will invigorate and refresh my weary brain.

One thing I do know, is that I am not called to be a hermit! I also do not need a silent retreat. I went on one a few months ago and felt like screaming. Those retreats are definitely designed for people who have a lack of silence the rest of the time.

The main goal before leaving- to finish repainting the rooms in my place. I've got the hallway done (antique white walls and deep red trim) and three walls in the living room. Of course the challenge is living in the rooms and painting them at the same time; however with my brother's help and with dogged persistence, progress has been made. Discouraging trend- yesterday and today I lounged around instead of getting to work. It's not the work itself that's the problem, it's knowing that once I move the furniture, it will be hard to get places until I finish the wall and get it back where it belongs. Tomorrow........

Exercises in Trust

The past few months have been surprisingly relaxing. French and Arabic have been making their way into my brain, and I have the comforting feeling that I'm no longer a real beginner in either. The scaffolding of grammar and most basic vocabulary is in place, and construction can begin in earnest.

Now the spring and summer are looming, and the options and obstacles are coming thick and fast. The paperwork and logistical feats are really mind-boggling, and I find myself scrambling to submit something one day, and waiting for a week or so (or months) in complete ignorance of my fate. Having an overactive imagination is no help, since I've seen myself in a half a dozen locations doing several different things- and so far nothing has come through.

The greatest relief would be acceptance into a program- a real program that would make me legitimate, worthy of funding and pre-registration. This would just be too easy. I think God is surrounding me with uncertainty to force growth in some areas. If I had other options, it would be easy to blame these circumstances on myself; but since I've been working so hard to try to find something stable and haven't been able to, the hand of "providence" is evident.

Amazingly, I've been through times like this before- but I was so clueless that it didn't bother me. Now that I've matured and become a better planner and realized how important it is to have steady income that meets my daily needs, this is much harder. My trust in God has gone down, and trust in myself and my employment has gone way, way up. Time for a reality check, I guess- my employment is not the source of my livelihood, God is. I haven't starved yet, but it does seem just around the corner so many times! Worse than that is the sense of failure- that I should be able to support myself. But as one friend said, "should" should be taken out of my vocabulary. Do I want to do what everyone else my age is doing, or what God wants for me? The results of this interminable adventure remain to be seen.

New Semester

This one started full tilt, not with a slow month of introductory material. December was taken up with finals and applying for a Master's degree, and now I'm in the thick of paperwork for summer programs, scholarships and grants. Hopefully by March I will know whether I've been accepted to the M.A. in Arabic program, and then I'll have a clearer idea of what to do during the summer.

Christmas and New Year's were a truly blessed time. I did way too much baking, and tried to distribute most of it to friends and relatives.

I do feel like I am making progress, especially in French (the easier language), but at the same time studying is not so fresh anymore, so it's more of a chore than last semester. I know it is worth it though, and I still spend time online reading Arabic newspapers, etc. My new laptop is equipped with a couple of word processors that handle Arabic well; and I spent way too much time setting everything up on the new computer...

Chapitre 5 is all about food, so I have been eating more vegetables, lots of different cheeses (!) and the occasional croissant.

Fun books that I found on Ebay or Amazon lately: an introduction to the Arabic Ruq'a Script (the usual handwriting) b/c mine is really awkward; some fairy tales in Arabic and French; Le Petit Nicolas et Les Copains; Madeleine & Babar en français; La Bible de Jerusalem... I had searched for the Jerusalem Bible all over, and finally got hold of it at the Amazon.fr site.

There was a "Multicultural Career Fair" at U-M, and I went to take a look. About the only multicultural component was the CIA. They gave me a pin and a pen and told me they were always hiring people who could speak strange languages- some employees just read the news in other languages to find out what other people are saying about the U.S. If working for the government were attractive to me, they would also pay for my education. However, this is something I have to think about seriously. Do I want to work for Uncle Sam? No. Can I afford to pay for my education? No. ...

I am trying to learn to trust God more as each day unfolds as full of uncertainty as the one before.

Now wait a second....! :-(

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Ok so maybe it does appeal to me... what about it? What do pot smokers have to do with it? Who is Che Guevara anyway? Other people get Einstein, I get Che Guevara. Sheesh...