The Language Barrier

As some of you might know, I am spending a portion of my summer in Kenya with my mother to visit her side of the family. She grew up in the bustling capital city of Nairobi where she got a top notch education, made friends, and managed to graduate high school with good grades and a firm grasp of three languages-Swahili, English and her tribal language, Kikuyu.  One day, she decided to further her career by going to University in the USA.

When my mother got to the United States, not only did she manage to graduate with a few degrees under her belt including a Master’s degree in social work, she also managed to land a husband (for a while), a couple kids, a sweet job and citizenship. Isn’t that awesome?! I mean to leave her whole family and move to a foreign land, and to actually make something of herself at a rather young age is very impressive. Although I don’t say it enough, I really appreciate what my mom has been through on her journey to where she is now. Honestly, I doubt I would even survive childhood in a Kenyan boarding school where the kids are vicious, the food isn’t that appetizing and the chances of you seeing mom and dad are slim to none for months at a time.

However, there is one thing that I wish she had done. While she was busy getting her life together and raising her children, she forgot to teach her kids about her Kenyan heritage. Sure she often fed my brother and I traditional Kenyan food and occasionally talked to us in Swahili and Kikuyu, however the emphasis on really truly learning about her country and its people was not there during our childhood. As a result, we grew up Americanized and generally ignorant about life in Kenya.

That is, until we go there to visit our family. My mother considers going to Kenya, going home. She falls right into the traditions, proper greetings and the language as if she never left. My brother and I on the other hand are left outside of this cultural bubble, forced to awkwardly listen to hours and hours of discussions, lectures, jokes, prayers, songs, commercials, and greetings without understanding enough to get the gist of the conversations or the punch lines of the jokes. When we meet new people, they go from assuming we are one of them to treating us like just another American tourist. We become the target of “what a shame” looks, and an overall loss of dignity. Questions such as, “do you know Swahili?” “Why not?” and “did you understand what they were saying?” become the most common English phrases we hear. People look at us like we’re stupid and we feel retarded, because honestly, we are. Does that sentence offend you? The fact that I don’t understand a language I should offends me even more. Our mother and the majority of her side of the family can in fact speak Swahili, English, and Kikuyu. Even the small children know enough English to carry out a conversation with us, but most speak Swahili around us, no doubt asking amongst themselves why we don’t know what they are saying. During this trip, more than ever before, I genuinely feel like an outcast, an untouchable. When people discover I have no idea what they are saying, all I want to do is crawl in a big hole and wait to fly back home to America. Isn’t it ironic that at the very place my own mother feels most at home, I couldn’t feel any less so?

Some people may understand what this feels like to an extent. Have you ever been to a different country where the only people that speak your language are your friends and the tour guide? That’s kind of like it, but imagine upon going back home, you learn there was a law passed that changed the meaning of all the words you were ever taught and nobody sent you the memo. Now everyone is wondering how you’re even a citizen of your country and you can’t even speak the language. In their mind, you have had your entire life to learn this language just like the next person-everyone in the country including your whole family speaks it except you and there’s really no good reason why. You’re usual charms are worthless in this new language you don’t know. You have to rely on an interpreter to understand what your children, parents, and friends are trying to tell you. Imagine living a day at the place you call home where nobody knows what you are saying, and you don’t know what they are saying. You might as well be deaf and mute. Even though you’re in the same room where everyone is, it’s as though you’re all alone with you and your thoughts, light-years away from everyone around you. It’s extremely depressing and lonely.

Now, I have asked my mother why she didn’t teach me the languages of our, or rather her people. She has a semi-valid explanation-my father who was American did not encourage her to teach my brother and me her native tongue. In fact, from what I can tell he blatantly put her down when she tried to do it. I don’t know the conversations they had verbatim, but the result is my mom stopped trying to teach my brother and I Swahili, leaving us without what I consider a major birth right-our mother’s language and culture.

Sure, we can learn it now right? If I really wanted to learn it, I could stop whining and start studying right? Of course I could, but it’s a lot easier said than done.  I’m trying to teach myself Swahili, but it is so hard to pick up a language and stick to it when you have other, more immediate things to do. First of all, I don’t have money to blow on software like Rosetta Stone (my obvious first choice of instruction), so the internet and books are the way I have to go.  Now what? Learn vocabulary I guess. After that maybe I could tackle verbs, and grammatical particulars. But who can help me make sure the meager sentences I’m putting together are correct? What am I doing, really? I am speaking for myself when I say I can’t just teach myself a language. I can teach myself how to do difficult math problems, or memorize psychological terminology, but a complete language is out of my league. I need structure and guidance and so far, my questions outweigh my answers.

Secondly, I’m in college. I’m not just in college; I am an Honor’s student who relies on good grades for scholarship money. Speaking of money, I have to find a job before school starts again and once I get the job, I’m going to have to work. So between working and studying, I have little time to sit at a computer or read books not related to my studies to catch up on what I should’ve learned by the age I was five or six.

"Can anyone hear me?"

If only I could say all of this in Swahili to answer my family’s questions about why I don’t speak Swahili...

Lame Ass Teachers

They're like this, but not as hot or motivated.

Lame ass, useless teachers piss me off. I woke up this morning in a nice mood, almost ready to conquer the world. So, I got on facebook to make sure there wasn’t a huge shootout or tsunami or something and I see a post of one of my old teachers that said something about supporting education. I thought back to my last year of that particular class in high school and specifically remember us not doing shit. Hey, how about you support your own education that you’re supposed to be raining down on your pupils instead of having a glorified study hall all.year.long. Don’t even get me started on that teacher’s study hall. As a student, I did not and still do not care that you had a dissertation that was due that year. I had graduation that was due that year and I would have loved to learn how to read music or SOMETHING before that time because it was probably going to be my last music class I would ever take. So thanks a lot, dear teacher for being a good for nothing waste of air at my city’s public school system.

It wasn’t just this one, but there were quite a lot of babysitters in that building. However, it seemed extra hypocritical of this person to cry out for education reforms and support of “The Arts,” when they were being the arts worst enemy most of the time. People, if you get a job, do your job, or quit. There are starving artists all over the world who would kill to get a position that is as influential and steady as teaching young people about a very valuable craft. What you teach children young and old goes with them for the rest of their lives. In that class, I was taught the value of a horrible work ethic. 

Best Present Ever. (A How-to Guide)

Have you ever wanted to give someone a present that says just how much you love them? Nothing is good enough right? Wrong! I was in that very situation this past Christmas. My fairly new boyfriend was flying me out to his parent’s place in Wisconsin to celebrate the holidays. You can dissect that sentence on your own time. To me, the point was, I better get him something that a.) he LOVES and b.) doesn’t embarrass me, especially in front of his parents. It needed to be appropriate enough to pass around the family circle (if that’s what they do, I had no clue) but a little cute and girlfriendy so he doesn’t forgot about me when I’ve gone back to Virginia and he goes back to work.
I looked everywhere and by everywhere, I mean I Googled it. I asked in every way possible but for the longest time, I couldn’t find a present that I liked AND could afford. This was already the Christmas I had dropped the most of my own money on. Shoot, it still feels a little lonely in my savings account, but I didn’t want that to reflect in my present. Anyway, after searching far and wide on my computer for the holy grail of presents, I came across someone’s idea to make him a coupon book. It was perfect. I immediately began to dream up rosy visions of this beautiful coupon book made with the chirpy enthusiasm of one of Santa’s bubbly elves. So it was all set. I was going to make the best coupon book ever. Unfortunately, when it came down to actually making this book, I stepped into Michael’s with a head full of expectations and an empty basket. I took one look around, lingered on the aisle with hundreds of different types of fricking paper and my mind went blank- I couldn’t imagine an actual design for this perfect book let alone decide what color paper I wanted. Defeated, I walked out with a head full of questions and a still empty basket. That was an utter fail. For a week I thought and thought about how I would execute my perfect present, but couldn’t find anything. Then I decided that maybe I should just make an album. But like I said, this was a fairly new relationship with a grand total of two (2) pictures of the both of us. Even if I were to just start this book, I couldn’t properly make one page so I went back to the drawing board. After much soul searching and a little help from my friends (in particular, Ms. Mason), I did come up with a great present. All it took was a design from this lady (http://www2.fiskars.com/Activities/Crafting/Project-Gallery/Other-Projects/Coupon-Gift-Book), a few more confused visits to Michael’s, mental images of his reaction and a little bit of my sanity. This is dedicated to all the people looking for the perfect present for their significant other. Homemade scrapbook for dummies, if you will:

Step 1. Gather your tools and figure out your coupons. I had a calligraphy pen, colored pencils, scissors, a ball of string (behind the glue), glue,cutter thing (green thing), a hole puncher, corner rounder (blue triangle), black and white brads, and a glue gun. Make sure you know what the coupons will be for and type them out.

Step 2. After you know how many coupons you're making, get some cardstock and cut out 3 by 5 ½ inch rectangles. You should be able to get a few out of one 12 x 12 sheet of cardstock paper. Round the corners if you want and punch holes on the left side of the squares for the brads that you put in later to keep the book together. I already had a cool little doohickey that my mom had from her scrapbooking days to round the corners; otherwise they can just be rectangular. He’ll still love you.

Step 3. Now that you’ve got your blank pages, it’s time to decorate. Determine what font you like and actually make one tester coupon so that the size and font are legible and look good. Based on what your coupons are, you can decorate the pages however you want. Use things around the house or objects that mean something to the both of you so that your darling knows that you put a lot of time and effort into this project just for them. Or if you’re not broke, go to Michael’s and go crazy. Commandeer an employee for a few hours, tell them what you’re trying to do and have them help you pick out things to embellish the pages. Don’t forget the glitter.

Step 4. For the cover, you will need a 12 x 12 sheet of heavy cardstock paper of a different color than the pages. Do this just how Mrs. Kingman says or you’ll be sorry:
“Cut patterned paper to 12 inches by 3½ inches. Fold the piece at 1 inch, then fold the rest over so that the cover tucks under the first fold like a matchbook. Round the top corners. Punch two holes in the bottom fold at 1 inch and 2¾ inches.”

Put the finished coupons in the book. Line them up with the holes and carefully insert the brads. Try not to tear the holes, but don’t freak out if all of the pages don’t really fit. I have a solution. After you have put the pages in your book, write a cute little message on the front cover. You can use a different colored piece of paper so that it sticks out or depending on the color of the cover page, you can also use a nice calligraphy pen or something and write straight on the cover in some loopy letters. That’s what I did. Either way, make the front page look pretty.

Step 5. Figure out how you’re going to package this masterpiece. I had a sprint phone box laying around that I wrapped in white and red paper and lined with tissue paper that I perched my little bundle of joy on. It was quite beautiful if I do say so myself. After you’ve done that, right before you seal it up for good, take a nice ribbon and tie it like you would a present. If you don’t know what I mean, Google it. The ribbon keeps it closed until your sweetheart opens it, and it looks extra perfect with your hand-tied bow.

Step 6. Bask in the glory of the Best Present Ever.
Remember, make it your own, give it to whoever you care enough about to make this for. Any event is a great time to give a coupon book, except funerals. I’m not sure how that would go over. Christmas, birthdays, Valentine’s day- good. Funerals- bad. I’ve posted some pictures below that show exactly how I made mine so if you really aren’t one for being creative and doing your own thing, you can just copy mine. However, if you do that, please post this blog on your wall or something so that someone will actually read this thing...

On with the photos!

As you can see, I made a cute title for each of the coupons and put them in the corner. For each corner, I cut a half moon out of standard black cardboard paper and then made sure the edges were rounded out by re-rounding them with my handy dandy corner rounder thingy. (My vocabulary is so professional, right?)

To decorate the pages, I used regular old construction paper and aluminum for my cupcake lining.

This was my first coupon was pretty basic, as I continued, more ideas came to me and the project started to look like something special.

The aluminum added a nice shiny touch that was lacking since I couldn't find any glitter around the house...

I'm especially proud of my popcorn which was made by hand out of scraps of red and yellow construction paper. 

Since he loves the packers, I decided to make a special card just for football. Any sport will do, especially if you don't really care for it but he does :)

For the "Do over" page, I used two brads to make my repeat sign. All I did was sick them in at the right spot and secure in the back. 

Interactive couponing!

I made two little versions of us, glued his to the page and on my little red shirt, I wrote "Pull Me." When he did so, the details of the coupon were inside. Isn't that cute?!

"A Date with Mother Nature" featured real dried flowers that I saved from a bouquet he got for me when we first started dating. Details people.

This one took work. Lucky for you I figured it out. Cut out a crown from gold paper you have folded in half. Type out the description of the coupon and tuck it inside the "crown." My sweetie got a full massage, 3 meals, a tidied apartment, and whatever else he wants (within reason). Remember, this is supposed to be appropriate.

For the "Dinner for Two" coupon, I simply found this patterned paper at Michael's, cut out a square of it and pasted it on top of one of my card-stock sheets. I shaped it up with some scissors, re-rounded the edges and re-punched the holes that were covered up. Then I just continued as usual making my title corner and gluing my words...

Blank checks are always fun, but make sure you write a disclaimer or something on the back if you are afraid your loved one will take things too far. Just sayin.

So, that was my crash course how to of how to  make the best present ever. I hope you enjoyed it - I sure did. Honestly,  the best Christmas present for me was seeing my guy's reaction. He really liked it and I hope your darling appreciates this coupon book as well! Otherwise, take it back and use them on yourself!

Stranger Danger?

So, I thought that my last post would be one of my more controversial topics, but I think this might take the cake. I believe in stranger danger. In fact, I wholeheartedly believe in it. However, I do not believe that all strangers are dangerous, nor do I believe that all friends are not foes. There is no one situation that will result in you being a missing person whose parents are begging for you on national television. Isn’t it true that sometimes it’s the last person you would expect who does something crazy? That husband that was all lovey-dovey the entire time the couple was dating is the one who beats his wife and children months later; or the priest who is supposedly connected to God on a whole other level is the one... Well we all know about the priest...Anyway, the reason I’m writing to you all about this is because sometimes I get into cars with strangers. If a blind date is going particularly well, and I’m not getting the creeps by spending time with whatever guy I’m with, if they offer to drive me home, I sometimes accept. I know, I know it’s so stupid! Believe me when I say I know it’s stupid, but sometimes it pays to give these strangers a chance, they’re not all trying to hack cute college students like myself into pieces. However, I must say that I always have money on me in case I need to make like dry ends and split (ha!). Plus, when do you really ever know someone? You never know what another person is thinking, so watch your back. My rationale is, no matter what you do, the crazies will always be there waiting and watching. If they want to get to you, they will get to you no matter how selective you are with whose car you get into. Follow your instincts! We all know that person who is about to explode any second. They don’t need to say a word because when they get to class, or work, everyone is watching them. Your animalistic instincts take over as you look for any sign that may suggest that you are going to have to fight to survive that day. We can all recognize that kid that you shouldn’t walk with alone to class, let alone on a date. It’s in our DNA! If your gut tells you that it’s okay to get in this stranger’s car, as long as your gut has an excellent track history, go with it, but always be prepared for the worst. Don’t be taken by surprise if you see you’re suddenly on your way to Mexico when he said he was just going to take you home (3 minutes away). Seriously, you got yourself into that mess, so get yourself out. Is this stupid? Yes! Should you be driven anywhere by someone you’ve just met? Hell no! There is always a 50/50 chance you will live another day no matter what you do. Strangers are just a small piece to this huge, difficult puzzle we call life. On the flip side, after writing all of this down on paper, I must say, I’ll probably never do that again and neither should you.

Oh Yes I Did.

Okay, okay shame on me, I haven’t written in like a few months. Shoot me. Wait, don’t shoot me. Anyway, I have a lot to say, so I’m sure that I’ll write you lovely devils something new in about a month.
So, what to talk about? Oh yes, my most controversial subject to date. I, your faithful literary servant have decided to experiment with the realm of online dating. “Whaaaattt?” you say? Yes it’s true. I am a young and innocent, doe eyed, naïve little girl swimming in the pond of online dating. You heard it here first, folks: I’m looking for a man. Okay before all of the haterzzz get all up in my grill, think about it. I’m sure some of you are wondering why am I on a dating site? I’m in college, blah , blah, blah. Wanna know why, hater? BECAUSE I’M LAZY. That’s right, Little Miss Honors Student doesn’t feel like putting work in. However, I was paying attention in my Management when the professor said something about minimal input to get maximum output, or something like that. Online dating gives me an opportunity to find like-minded individuals without the cat and mouse awkward “talking” stage. Who the heck came up with the term “talking” anyway? I mean you see this guy, you either 1.) Wait for him to see you, 2.) You approach him, or 3.) Absolutely nothing happens and you wonder why you don’t look like so-and-so for the rest of the week. you have no clue if this guy is even interested, you don’t know if he’s single, heck, you don’t even know if he’s straight. Why do that to yourself? Those of you who love the thrill of the chase, more power to you to me there is one word that comes to mind. BORING. I do not particularly enjoy watching the cougar stalk her prey on the discovery channel nor do I enjoy stalking my prey. I appreciate the immediate gratification online dating provides, especially if you do it right. By right I mean you find someone online and then you date them. You don’t have month long conversations with them. that puts you in a thing I like to call dating purgatory, or the Never Ending Talk. Three out of every five conversations only amount to this. Don’t be a statistic.

What's Love Got to Do with It??? Your livelihood, that is.

Can I sidetrack for just a second? There is something that has seriously been bothering me for the past couple of days. First off, I need to tell you that I am an ardent fan of Asian culture. By Asian, I mean Japanese, Indian, and most recently Korean. I totally understand that lots of people are in love with American culture, but there is something about our Eastern neighbors that is so classy. They have a way of distinguishing moments and situations so that each event is handled with the amount of grace and tactfulness that it deserves and I love that! So, to learn from these cultures (and to entertain myself) I watch Hindi and other Indian movies, as well as Japanese and Korean shows. Most of these involve comedy or romance. I learned my freshman year of college that I am a serious softy for romance. A good monologue will definitely bring on the waterworks, sadly enough.
With that information in mind, I was watching a Korean comedy known as “Playful” or “Mischievous Kiss.” In this show, there’s this girl who has a bit of a crush on a guy at her school. Well, this crush goes on for a few years, and that’s when I realized that this was not a crush, but in fact a rather serious obsession. She is totally obsessed with this guy! When I say obsessed, I really mean OBSESSED. It’s not cute. It’s not fan-girl cute or Edward Cullen staring at Bella as she sleeps cute, it’s just creepy. I mean there is nothing this girl won’t do to be with this guy and everybody knows about it. Her dad just looks on, her friends encourage her, heck, the poor boys mom is on the girl’s side and even helps stalk her son! Seriously, it is so weird. And the guy in question is a total punk. He just goes along with the foolishness as if he has nothing better to, but here’s the sad part: he doesn’t say no, but he doesn’t say yes either. He knows that wherever he goes he can’t escape the clutches of Oh Ha Ni (the stalker). And you know what? I think he likes it. In fact I’m sure of it, by the last episode they’re on their honeymoon. But that’s beside the point. . I know this is a show and that if this were to happen in real life, it would without a doubt go down much differently, but still! Why is she wasting her time on this loser? There are two other, much more attractive and friendly guys who are very interested in her, but all she can see is what’s-his-face. He’s so mean to her, but still she follows him around like a shadow every day. Is this what people perceive as love nowadays? Do you love someone when all you hope for the future is to be wherever that guy or gal of your dreams is? What about your future and goals in life? Just because you love someone, does that mean that you have the option of totally forgetting that you are a different person with separate thoughts and beliefs? Maybe that’s why some people are afraid of the idea of a long-term relationship...

To Cook or Not to Cook?

Let me say this about myself: Food is a rather large part of my life. As a child, I was especially good at quitting things: wrestling, ballet, marching band...well marching was fairly recent, but that is beside the point. The point is it’s hard for me to find something that I am actually capable of sticking to. So, when I found out that I love eating, (and later cooking) I decided that perhaps my long-term love of food was a message from God. In my opinion, my eagerness to always quit things was not because I was a quitter, but because those things were simply not meant for me! Since middle school, I began seriously thinking about pursuing a career in the food service industry and look at me now; a sophomore culinary student at Johnson & Wales University. Frickin’ Johnson & Wales University!! How exciting!!!!!!

But I digress. Unfortunately, I’m afraid that food may not love me back.

Isn’t it the worst to have a one-sided love? I think that if food and I loved each other equally, whenever I cook, it would be like Beethoven creating a musical masterpiece and that just isn’t the case for me. Sometimes after I cook, I just stare at the disaster I made and wallow in self-pity for a few minutes as my ego points almost visually plummet. I sometimes wonder if I have become one of those people that put words into God's mouth just to have things go their own way. I’m sure it doesn’t help that when I cook, it’s a lot like how some people watch TV. My mind goes into some kind of half-coma while my body performs the functions that I think I want to do. Like I said before, sometimes it’s good and sometimes, it’s really bad. Maybe I have ADD? Seriously, I just want to go one week where when I think of something and make it, I’m proud of what I did because it actually turns out the way I thought. Maybe I have culinary dyslexia? Success in the kitchen is very sporadic for me and much like the guy I love who just doesn’t seem to feel the same way about me, I always seem to be the party that gets hurt. My meal can turn out well, but you better believe I’ve burnt myself or cut some appendage; or, the meal looks like it’s coming along, but then it is ruined. Is it really worth it in the end? Is this a case where the answer to my grief is abandon ship, or practice makes perfect? I sure hope it’s the latter; otherwise I’m going to need for God to send me another memo about my life’s purpose.