I am currently visiting St. Louis. It is Saturday morning, and I have been here for 2.5 days. I wish I had better words to describe the flurry of emotions I have felt since being here. It is humbling to realize that while I have felt St. Louis as a great absence in my life, St. Louis itself has marched on with time. The places and things that were 'mine' are still here, but they belong to others now. In some sense, this is beautiful, and very reassuring. It maintains an access point to the part of my mind which holds the memories of when I was here. I wouldn't feel such a contrast if coming back here didn't really feel like traveling back in time. My life now is so incredibly different than it was here. At some point during the summer of 2006, I morphed into survival mode in which I became 'Miss Butler,' developing a toughness which allowed me to tolerate being called dirty names, walking mouthy students home to discuss their behavior with their grandmother, and diverting attention from the window when the high school gangs showed up with baseball bats. This toughness is not something that goes away, but I haven't had to access it for some time. Returning here forces me to remember who I was, how it affected me, and how much I truly valued the experience in light of where I am now.

I visited my old school yesterday....performed my old Friday morning routine (run with Jessica, pick up treats at store for students, stop at Starbucks.) My favorite baristas were working at Starbucks, and they remembered not only me, but my drink (no small feat) as well! After an entire year we were able to catch up on the remembered details of each others lives and pretend that no time had passed. At school, I was bombarded with memories, starting with the smell as I opened the door. It was the same smell I encountered every other day- no easy name for it so I will call it the 'oh my gosh- another day, what was I thinking- I love my job- I am crazy- I'm happy to be here- I can't wait until 4:30' smell. Yes, that is pretty accurate. Anyway, yesterday happened to be the day of 'Spring Musical.' It was a great way to see everyone in one place and sneak up on unsuspecting students. One of my favorite students who came here from Albania last February speaking not a word of English (and whom I secretly referred to as my henchman and employed as line-monitor due to his ability to single out talking students and organize people 'just so' so that the line was straight, silent, and seemed to march where I led them...;), now has a full vocabulary, is an excellent reader, and no longer gets to monitor lines because of his tendency to exercise his new use of words at all times. I bestowed candy upon my former classes, asked and answered, questions, and felt immense pleasure of being able to be the superhero who delivers treats and then flees (as opposed to performing damage control whence the sugar high hits.)

I have to run, but there is one more story worth sharing before I go. I feel it is a tribute to both the creativity, and mischievousness of a young mind, and the frustration and horror experienced by those trying to deal with it. Alright: Armondo. Armondo is a very precocious 4th grader whose father was a famous singer in Bosnia, but now devotes his time to cultivating Armondo as a junior rebel and ladies' man. There are many Armondo tales, but the most recent (2 days ago), and my personal favorite is this one. After being disciplined in his classroom, Armondo had decided he'd had enough. He got up, left his classroom, and proceeded to the teacher's lounge where he removed honey and syrup from the refrigerator. He then proceeded outside to the playground where he 'honey and syrup-ed' the sliding poles and monkey bars. I will leave the images of what happened to your imagination, but let it be said that the pre-school teacher did NOT have a good time prying here little people off of the equipment and spending the morning 'de-sticky-fying' their clothes. (Prologue- At some point Armondo was witnessed lurking and giggling, and turned over to 'Ms. King, the custodian,' who armed him with a pail and rag, made him clean up his mess, and then turned him over to the principal who sent him home.)

Summer 2009. I finally received word yesterday as to where my summer fate lies. Option 1: Orissa, India. 2) Dhaka, Bangladesh, and 3) Nicaragua. My top choice is India, as I feel most strongly connected with its mission. It is run by an organization called 'Gram Vikas,' which literally means 'Village Development.' Their goal is to promote processes which are sustainable, socially inclusive, and gender equitable. The project I would be working on would include interviewing villagers on both the perceived and actual impact of access to clean water. We would assess whether access has changed hygiene behavior, incidences of water borne diseases, and the extent to which women have benefited. On India in general, Orissa is tauted as one of the most spiritual places in India. I would love to visit the ancient temples and soak up some of the peace. The only caveat is that there has recently been some religious squabble.

As for Bangladesh, the project is run by World Bank, and has to do with bottom-up institution building. The project involves looking at successful village mobilization, identifying the key ingredients to its success, and developing a system by which their success may be replicated. It could be interesting- ties in a lot with some of the courses I took this year.

I'm not even going to bother with Nicaragua. It is my third choice and highly unlikely I will get it due to my inability to speak Spanish. I have very little connection with the project goals as well, so yes- hopefully this is the end we'll hear of Nicaragua.

I submit a personal ranking on Thursday, and find out officially where I'll be going on May 19. At that point, travel arrangements will be made. I feel so funny right now. For the longest time, this was 'this summer...' and now it's here. I've lost the luxury of distance, and it suddenly feels very real. I am so excited- really, really excited....but I'm a little scared too. It seems that often turning points occur in our lives, AND THEN we realize what caused them. With this, though, I am fully aware that it is happening. I know I will see a very different world, that I will be bothered by things I can not change, that I will feel the weight of privilege I in no way earned, and that I will wonder, 'Why you and not me?' It is impossible to return the same person I leave as. I hope I will come back a better person; a more thankful, more aware, more convicted person to pursue what change I CAN affect. And yet....all of this scares me. It is knowing, and not knowing all at the same time.

On a lighter topic, I have been reading some amazing books. I recommend 'Little Bee,' by Chris Cleave as a number one pick. A close second is 'The Cellist of Sarajevo,' (a little contrived, but captures the spirit of what happened), and third, 'Unaccustomed Earth' by Jhumpa Lahiri. I have packed all of these books up and sent them home so they will be available. I'm currently just about to finish another book right now, though it will remain nameless until I can gauge whether or not I think reading it may cause unnecessary worry by those tempted to see what its about. (...thanks for the masks and hand-sanitizer, mom;)... ) I will limit my description to saying that it is about a girl I think would make a great friend and who appears to have a spirit similar to my own.

It is currently 12:09. My last final is in 20 minutes. I'm going to leave now so that I can see the little man who lives in the park and that has made it his personal responsibility to ensure that NYU students make it to class on time, give his 10 minute warning call.

I am convinced that every person lives a secret life. It is not intentional, but consists of the inner thoughts and details that we confront when we are alone and that simply don’t seem relevant to share at a later time. I really think it’s these experience that have the greatest effect on who we are. When we look back at the most significant experiences in our life, it is unlikely that we will recall the random encounter with the sad looking lady walking alone on the street, the brief conversation with the man at the deli, or what we thought as a fire engine sped by, but at the same time, I really believe these are the experiences that affect how we interpret the ‘big things’ we’re more likely to report. Sometimes I feel like these small events are each a part of the puzzle to each one of us is. Those that we are closest to are those who care about making themselves familiar with the most intimate, ugly pieces that seem absolutely out of place, and yet equally contribute the completion of the puzzle. Those that love us the most are they who embrace those pieces and find beauty in them for their sake in the whole as opposed to focusing on their isolated ugliness. In this way, we are best able to love ourselves by allowing others to love us.

I really do plan on making a habit of writing more often. My excuse this time is that it is the end of the semester, and life just kind of picked up and got away from me. It’s funny because I often write in my head what I plan to write on paper, but many times recently it just hasn’t seemed to make it that far. In any case, here I am.

I am smugly writing on my recently fixed computer. It decided to die about 2 weeks ago. Somehow it sensed that I had a term paper due the following week. After taking it to Best But, it was diagnosed with ‘failed Windows Vista.’ I almost paid the $1300- debit card out and everything- to have them fix the problem, but was informed that before it could be addressed, I would have to contact my computer’s manufacturer to get the necessary disc to fix. WELL, I found this mildly irritating and decided that if I had to order the disc, I might as well install it myself. (How hard could it be….right???) 5 days later, my disc arrived. It all boiled down to a great lesson in patience and overcoming self-doubt. The long and short of it is, is that it’s not hard to install as long as you don’t touch anything while it’s installing and you diligently follow its commands…for 6 HOURS!!! This may sound easy, but there is disclaimer anywhere about how long the whole process is supposed to take. I got frantic after just 1 hour the first time, 4 the next…and finally (deep breath) decided that I should try one more time. After 25 years of learning the tricks to outsmart myself, I started the process at night- so that I would be sleeping for most of the ‘waiting’ part. I woke up at 6:30 to start the next process, and by 10:30 I was sitting more than a little please with a ‘just like new, but loved SO much more’ computer. (Within this hiatus of lack of computer…I finished my term paper through the use of various library computers…one in the Veteran’s Hospital where I selected my dress based on what I thought looked most ‘dentist-y’ (the VA is the home of NYU’s Dental Library), and another in good old Bobst Library in Washington Square…known not only for ‘suicide atrium’ in its lobby, but also for incredibly long lines at the computers…. All of this being said, I haven’t worked so hard on a paper in a long time- unfortunately with more effort being focused towards dress and computer procurement than the paper itself;) )

I’m now going to skip wildly ahead and describe today. This is not merely because it is so fresh in my mind, but because…though they felt perfectly natural at the time…holds several more unique experiences I’ve thus far encountered.

I had no intention whatsoever of today being any other than ordinary. In fact, having decided to dedicate the whole thing to studying Financial Management, it was supposed to be even more ordinary than usual. Fortunately for me, and the sake of this blog, I really like Financial Management because it often feels like fitting pieces into a puzzle so is more like a game than a chore…anyway, after playing the ‘game’ for a couple hours, it became clear that there was no way on earth I could subject my mind to playing all day long (I ran out of practice tests….), deciding instead to take myself for a stroll.

Waiiiiiiit!!! I almost forgot a most delicious tale I cannot leave out of the telling of today! Yes. I’m glad I caught that- as its peculiarity helps to set the tone for the rest. I may be exaggerating in my description of it as ‘delicious’ but it did occur at Starbucks, so I really couldn’t help myself. So, there I was…peacefully minding my own business (as usual), working on my financial management puzzles when a character with an unsavory smell (booze? Smoke?) approached. He appeared to be early 20’s, garbed in classic ‘cool gear’ ---hat, zip-up sweatshirt with dice on it; typical ‘corner wear’ as I like to call it. Anyway, he wanted to know how I’d gotten on the internet. I explained how you could get on for free if you had a gift card, etc, and then said, ‘good luck!’ He left, and then returned---it wasn’t working. I told him I really didn’t know what else to do, then smiled and put my headphones back on. He appeared to settle himself quietly about 3 chairs away…for at least 2 minutes. He then engaged a poor unsuspecting girl sitting next to him in some sort of dialogue which became remarkable only after 20 minutes when she had explained that she was studying for a PHD exam and really needed to study. This continued for at least 10 more minutes before she reiterated that she couldn’t talk, and another 5 before her tone changed and he appeared to get the message. That’s when he came back to me. This time he asked if I would come over and get his computer set up for him. I suggested that he ask someone at the counter, as I really didn’t know and they would have more information than I would. Apparently not finding this a good suggestion, he went back to the other girl and began explaining to her how ‘I was just too busy to help him. I apparently had too much to do. I just didn’t care…’ (each comment somewhat louder than the previous one, as to ensure that I knew what he was saying and who he was talking about…) Having put my headphones back on after the last encounter, I was able to play dumb well enough, but silently wondered if I should get a pencil ready to poke him with if he came back for more. (How this would have worked, I’m not sure, but somehow the idea of a sharp pencil made me feel better….) Annnnnyway, he eventually left at which point the other girl he’d honed in on (and a third who we all agreed would have been his next target if ‘nice girl’ wouldn’t have told him to try borders for internet…) had a nice chat.

Now back to the stroll… after about 30 minutes, I found myself walking up 5th avenue. I hadn’t planned on it, but St. Patrick’s Cathedral looked really inviting as a nice place to find some calm amidst the flurry of chaos everywhere else. Further, I am need of a new ‘Mary’ for a necklace which I refuse to buy at just ‘any’ location, (Mary jumped ship /necklace just after finals last semester…I think she needed a break...) and I thought I may find one there. After entering, I soon found a reasonable secluded seat that proved to be just the facilitator of peace I was hoping for. Of course there were many people traveling to and fro around me, but no major distractions….until the wedding started. WHAT ! A WEDDING! Yes. I wish I could say that right then and there I up and left, leaving the wedding proceedings to itself, but …I did not. All around me, tourists of every nationality were suddenly participating in these strangers’ wedding! So of course I stood when the wedding party began parading down the aisle, and participated in the opening prayer. (I did NOT take out my camera to capture the event as several around me…though I did contemplate exactly how those pictures would be explained back wherever home was… ‘and look here--- this is a picture of a bride and groom I’ve never met, but really wanted to capture the moment…’ ;) ) Anyway, then I thought I may as well stay for the readings, as I really like knowing what people choose to have read, and then well, I didn’t want to miss the homily….so I stayed. At several moments I felt underdressed, but then, I really didn’t’ have much advance notice that I’d be attending a wedding that day….. So yes. I did FINALLY depart. Leaving, I noticed another wedding party getting ready to take over as soon as the first one finished. Curious as to whether the priest would say the exact same thing at the second wedding, I was tempted… but finally said, ‘Molly, NO! One strangers’ wedding is enough for one day.’

I headed off to FAO Schwartz . I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while, but was thwarted by the BLOCK long lines around the holidays, and never had a really good reason to brave the crowds. Today at last I had my excuse. In pursuit of presents for two 5th grade girls, I had just the reason Id been looking for. After lingering abnormally long for anyone but me in the animal section, I took a place in line at a bracelet making station. These watch-like bracelets boasted diamondy jewels spelling out words of your choice---the PERFECT accent for any 11 year old. Me and the bus-load of Italian women who arrived just before me shared this perception. Sadly, the Italians did not speak English, and the ‘bracelet makers’ didn’t speak Italian, resulting in a very amusing interaction. Both parties seemed to believe that if they spoke LOUDER, their words would make more sense. They didn’t, and then they got mad. Knowing some Italian, I helped in ways that I could- translating to the bracelet maker what they wanted…leaving out the parts about their personal opinion of the bracelet maker…. Anyway, eventually everything worked out. The Italians left happy, I left happy, and the bracelet maker switched to the Harry Potter section of the store.