tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77884513017285973632024-03-13T02:47:15.184+00:00Lauren Likes Saint Mike'sGood vibes from Vermont, New York, Morocco, and wherever else this life takes me.Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.comBlogger79125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-44450623443029016472015-05-26T22:42:00.002+01:002015-05-26T23:52:48.688+01:00An Open Letter to the Class of 2019To the SMCVT Class of 2019,<br />
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I've thought long and hard about what to say for this final post.<br />
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(For those of you who have followed me for the past 4 years, and perhaps discussed my blog with me at some point, you'll know that I wasn't sure if this day would come. After much deliberation, I have decided to close down "Lauren Likes Saint Mike's." Someday, possibly soon if I feel up to it, I may blog on some other forum, in which case I'll make note of it here. But I think I've outgrown this blog, for reasons you'll figure out as you read on.)<br />
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This post is coming to you over two weeks after graduation. I've needed time to think about it, especially because as I watched all my Facebook friends land jobs, get engaged, and generally move on with their lives while I sat around stuck in a sort of incredulous haze wondering how I actually got to this point, I suddenly lost the confidence that I had the authority to advise you on how to spend your next four years.<br />
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After two weeks of constant <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2014/05/what-do-i-do-with-my-hands.html" target="_blank">"What do I do with my hands?"</a> moments, I realized that exactly what's making me feel a little self-conscious right now is in fact what gives me the position to say this--it's not authority. It's relatability, at a time when the people on both sides of this letter are in need of assurance.<br />
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Class of 2019, I am here to tell you that just like the majority of you, <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2013/11/the-quarter-life-crisis.html" target="_blank">I do not know what I want to do with my life.</a><br />
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I struggled with this, and to a certain extent still do. As anyone would. I thought that this made me ill-prepared to graduate, and part of me was afraid for the coming of that day.<br />
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But it came. And when it did, I reported to <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2015/05/the-dos-and-donts-of-alliot-hall.html" target="_blank">Alliot</a>, where a seat
was waiting with my name on it in order to line up alphabetically for the
procession. I was surprised to see that an envelope was waiting for me on the
chair, with my name scribbled on it in pencil.<br />
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I opened it to find a brief, yet
very important note. It was the letter I had written to myself during one of my
first days at Saint Mike’s, in orientation. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It listed five things I wanted to
accomplish during my four years, most of which I managed to do (how it is that
I lived in Vermont four years and still never went skiing, I will probably
never understand).<o:p></o:p></div>
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After the list, I wrote some notes
to myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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In big, bold letters: “TRUST SAINT
MIKE’S.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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And the very last thing my wise
18-year-old self wrote: “Trust yourself.”<o:p></o:p></div>
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For those of you who may not know, Saint Mike's has gone through just as many transformations over the past four years as I have personally. They range widely from new bathrooms in the first-year dorms and my (unfortunate) bangs phase to an entirely new student center and my stint as a <a href="http://www.trust.org/item/20150402163534-qousp/?source=quickview" target="_blank">freelance journalist </a>in Morocco.</div>
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Just as the exteriors changed, the faces changed, too. I had gone to Morocco during my Spring 2014 semester, meaning I didn't get to say any official congratulations or goodbyes to the people in the Class of 2014 who I had gotten to know so well. I didn't realize how hard that would hit me until I got back, of course. When I returned to Saint Mike's in the fall, I recognized almost no one, other than my friends in the Class of 2015.</div>
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Though I did meet a few of these new faces, I mostly kept to my now much smaller group of friends who were there before I left. At this point, I was totally consumed by my <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2015/02/going-places-with-senior-sem.html" target="_blank">senior seminar documentary </a>project. I was also working an internship, and trying my best to look outward and seriously consider what I wanted with my future.</div>
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Blame it <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2015/04/on-senioritis.html" target="_blank">on senioritis</a>, or reverse culture-shock. Blame it on whatever you want. All I know is that at some point during my senior year, I stopped feeling like I belonged at Saint Michael's College. Although I had plenty of moments of rejuvenation--especially while giving tours and being able to remind myself what I loved about this place at least once a week--I was suddenly a stranger in a strange land.</div>
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Everyone has a Saint Mike's Story. How they got here, what they did, the experiences that made Saint Mike's another home to them. During the last months of my senior year, though I was scared to leave, I also felt as if I was trying to continue writing a story that should've already ended.</div>
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Why am I telling you all of this? Because you need to know, Class of 2019, that Saint Mike's is no longer mine. It's yours.</div>
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I think the straw that broke the camel's back was when we found out that the rumors circulating around <a href="http://defender.smcvt.edu/?p=3600" target="_blank">Bergeron,</a> otherwise known as Home of the MJD <strike>Majors</strike> Zombies, were true. The place that I grew up in over the past four years was being re-purposed.</div>
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There were good reasons for this change, mostly because it was going to give a much-needed update to our health services. However, most people in the department were against this decision. Bergeron wasn't the best space for us as it was, but we were making do and happy enough that we had our own place equipped with two multimedia labs. We were all very skeptical that the new plan that someone (not our department) had come up with, which was to relocate us (the third largest major) into the same hallway in Jeanmarie as the business majors (the first largest major), was going to work. </div>
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Needless to say, I was glad to be graduating when I was, as I had serious concerns. </div>
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Now back to graduation day. That letter to myself. The phrase written in big, bold letters.</div>
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TRUST SAINT MIKE'S.</div>
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I realized that my trust had faltered, knowing that Bergeron will not live to see another class of MJD majors. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cR4F8CtgVV-3tkQbNdEa6cAqA2UYcfRMrymhp_XmHMS08rocJxDoYdaj2ANNDgCvDDm7DFvhpxedQdNur38e4sQ6bSqCsEZwn_E2ZE0Rdzme9BndgTn8fxpgBu3_9pyztK-Tjj8TlQY7/s1600/0510151940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cR4F8CtgVV-3tkQbNdEa6cAqA2UYcfRMrymhp_XmHMS08rocJxDoYdaj2ANNDgCvDDm7DFvhpxedQdNur38e4sQ6bSqCsEZwn_E2ZE0Rdzme9BndgTn8fxpgBu3_9pyztK-Tjj8TlQY7/s400/0510151940.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">RIP Bergeron/Berg/70's Rest Stop/Pizza Hut/That place next to the tennis courts/Zombieland/and most recently, Ber_eron.</td></tr>
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That's not to say that the incoming MJD majors need worry. If any of you are reading this right now, you should know that despite my opinions, I am still 100% certain you will receive the best education possible. That's because it doesn't matter where you learn on this campus, what matters is that you're here. And here, you have the best faculty and staff possible. Not only because they come from all walks of life, and they're all incredibly accomplished in their fields, but also because they care about you. They don't know you yet, but they will. They will know your name and face, and they will welcome you into their classes, their offices, and their lives. They will dedicate all of their time and energy to you. The professors in the MJD department are brilliant and resourceful people, and they will give you what you need. Jeanmarie will become the home to you that Bergeron was to me, because your professors (and classmates, by the way) will make it that way. Just as Bergeron was an integral part of my Saint Mike's Story, Jeanmarie will be a huge part of yours.</div>
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But the reason why recognizing where my trust lies now is so important because I know where my trust has shifted. It's because of the last line I wrote to myself four years ago.</div>
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<i>Trust yourself</i>.</div>
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Ladies and gentlemen of the Class of 2019, remember this: if, one day during your senior year, you begin believing that you don't need Saint Mike's anymore, then Saint Mike's has done you right.</div>
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And more importantly, <i>you've </i>done it right.</div>
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Yeah, you heard me.</div>
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If I'm being honest, my main reason for my vehement disapproval of moving MJD out of Bergeron was due to my fear of change and apprehensions about life after Saint Mike's. Saying goodbye to Bergeron was the beginning in a long string of goodbyes, the symbolic way of showing that my time here is over.</div>
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It's no longer mine. It's yours.</div>
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Right now, as you graduate high school and head into the Great Unknown, you need Saint Mike's. You need it the same way I did. And you need to TRUST SAINT MIKE'S.</div>
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And one day, four years from now, you will be glad you did. You will trust the education you received. Therefore, as you move on into the Greater Unknown, you will have something limitless, something that you'll carry with you.</div>
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You'll <i>trust yourself.</i> </div>
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You need this, because like I said at the beginning, many of you--in fact, I bet most of you--will not know what you want to do with your lives. Graduation will come, and when it does, most of you will have changed your plans (I'm talking to you, kids who are certain they're going to grad school after this).</div>
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Just as you trusted Saint Mike's, you'll need to graduate trusting that you'll be okay, no matter what life throws at you. You'll know that it's perfectly fine not to have all of the answers. In fact, you might thrive off of not knowing in the end. Because once you decide you know nothing, you'll stop limiting yourself. The world will open up to you.</div>
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Saint Mike's is the first step. You've made a great decision, to be here. Take advantage of every opportunity that this amazing place offers you. Follow your instincts, not the path that you have imagined for yourself right now (some people are lucky enough to have their instincts match their imagined path; if so, you're much more figured out than I ever will be, kudos, and disregard this message). Consider the advice you receive from professors, friends, parents and mentors, but at the end of the day, follow your heart. </div>
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I took me two years at Saint Mike's until I truly began trusting my instincts. Most of you know that story--it's what took me to <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/p/studying-abr.html" target="_blank">Morocco</a>. For two years, I trusted Saint Mike's whole-heartedly to get me to that point. In the time leading up to and during my semester abroad, I trusted Saint Mike's as the crutch that held me up when I was uncertain. On my graduation day, I trusted that the diploma being handed to me came with experiences that I could've only gotten at Saint Mike's. And now, I trust that that diploma is a considerably small step in everything that I'm going to achieve.</div>
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Make the most of these four years. Make them count. TRUST SAINT MIKE'S. <i>Trust yourself</i>.</div>
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Congratulations, Class of 2019. Saint Mike's is yours. </div>
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In May 2019, you'll hand it down to the next lucky bunch. But for now, do what us Purple Knights do best: create your own Saint Mike's Story.</div>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDM4Yf1OsGRDE7mJzqcO5Xphj0ZP4Xo0m7qlG3A4u0gEmvmd8ExevyEIxxJtI27Qps9DMJnA7PvW8uS1kukHY_QEc-00OllPnGiHasn-BHZGS9jJNa-Nu3eAKbZR2cS60hekC5FFzs6m-O/s1600/10995447_692651420846554_9201588201206731916_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDM4Yf1OsGRDE7mJzqcO5Xphj0ZP4Xo0m7qlG3A4u0gEmvmd8ExevyEIxxJtI27Qps9DMJnA7PvW8uS1kukHY_QEc-00OllPnGiHasn-BHZGS9jJNa-Nu3eAKbZR2cS60hekC5FFzs6m-O/s640/10995447_692651420846554_9201588201206731916_n.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">Dad and I goofing off on graduation day. I'll always be grateful for the day forever ago when he suggested I look at <i>just one more school</i> on the way home from a long weekend of college tours in Vermont (hint: it was Saint Mike's).</td></tr>
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Best wishes of luck and love to you all. As my MJD friends like to say, "Keep calm and Berger-On."</div>
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- Lauren Kopchik</div>
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(PS: If you want to contact me about anything Saint Mike's related or my post-grad/alumni experience, please send an email to laurenkopchik@gmail.com as I won't be checking my SMCVT one as often. I may be heading off into the Greater Unknown, but I'd still love to talk about SMC with you!) </div>
Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-37852852113026014562015-05-01T02:10:00.000+01:002015-05-01T02:10:52.059+01:00The Do's and Don't's of Alliot HallI'll admit, my visits to Alliot--our older student center here at Saint Mike's where the main dining hall is located--have been very scarce lately. I tend to only stop in when I don't have time to cook for myself, and even then I'm normally in a rush so I grab something to eat on the go. I did have a sit-down meal for Thanksgiving dinner, an event I would never miss. But otherwise, I've enjoyed having a quiet, late-night dinner at my house, normally with one of my roommates.<br />
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Don't get me wrong, the food in Alliot is pretty great and it's always nice to run into friends or say hello to the friendly staff. But after the end of your second or third year, you'll probably appreciate having the option to not eat cafeteria-style every day as much as I do. And if you'd rather not cook for yourself, you can still keep your unlimited meal plan. Plenty of my friends use theirs daily, and they love the convenience Alliot offers as well as the well-balanced meals they can choose from.<br />
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Either way, it's good to know that Alliot etiquette is something to take note of. A recent visit reminded me that it's important to remember that this is a shared space, one that students respect and maintain as a way of making meals delightful for everyone.<br />
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Here's a few things to keep in mind:<br />
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1.)<b> DO </b>pronounce it Alli-OH. Silent T. We're French here, folks.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> say Alli-oT. Everyone will know you're a noob.<br />
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2.) <b>DO </b>refer to the dining hall as Alliot.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> call it the "Green Mountain Dining Room." Ever. Yes, that is its formal name. No, nobody actually uses it. If you do...again, noob.<br />
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3.) <b>DO </b>have your Knightcard ready for Rosemary to swipe at the front desk.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> wait until you get to the desk to go fishing through your bag, pockets, etc. trying to find it. Nobody likes to wait in line behind someone who's unprepared when they're hungry.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> wear your Knightcard on a lanyard around your neck...trust me, just don't.<br />
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4.) <b>DO</b> get to know Rosemary well. Ask her how her day is going or what she recommends on the menu. Believe me, she's a cool lady and being friends with her has its perks (can anyone say, free coffee? Swiper no swiping!)<br />
<b>DON'T</b> make Rosemary angry. Ever.<br />
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5.) <b>DO</b> bring in your laptop, books, notebooks, etc. ONLY when it's not busy. Wanna grab a snack while you work on that paper? No problem, as long as it's off peak hours (like 3-4, when it's too late for lunch but too early for dinner) and you sit in a corner space where you're not taking up a ton of table room.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> expect to work on homework during dinnertime. It's too loud, crowded, and distracting. Leave your laptop in your backpack and place it in a cubby or the coat-check area, or drop it off at your dorm between class and dinner.<br />
<br />
6.) <b>DO</b> make solid plans for what time to meet your friends for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, and make sure you all show up together.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> expect to be able to find them or get a seat near them if you don't make those plans.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1MFIZN5ziQmP7tojAdgugjltQW_P5r343nPyCdaQ0D24g_WwDPxtmiYlBr0_STMecuVojVJy6Fgo4ZvA_NigUkSnnqfBtYU9KwXjHjzzQ52LMt2PYVxDdLUgSbxdtheIAGcODd38giqb/s1600/ron.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1MFIZN5ziQmP7tojAdgugjltQW_P5r343nPyCdaQ0D24g_WwDPxtmiYlBr0_STMecuVojVJy6Fgo4ZvA_NigUkSnnqfBtYU9KwXjHjzzQ52LMt2PYVxDdLUgSbxdtheIAGcODd38giqb/s1600/ron.gif" height="161" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Because on Thanksgiving, you want to be able to chow down in front of people you're not self-conscious with.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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7.) <b>DO</b> wait patiently in line at the stir-fry station or the grill.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> cut the line or yell at the servers if they got your order wrong. Come on guys, we're adults here.<br />
<br />
8.) <b>DO</b> feel free to mix and match at each station. Wanna grab a burger, but also try the quinoa salad at the vegan station? There's no judging here. Go for it!<br />
<b>DON'T</b> cross-contaminate food. There's a reason why the peanut butter is at a separate station than the jelly. Use the utensils provided for each food, and be conscious of what it touches on your plate.<br />
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9.) <b>DO </b>use the bagel tongs. And the cookie tongs. Please, just, if there are tongs, use them.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> pick something up with your hands, look at it, and put it back.<br />
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10.) <b>DO</b> participate in a cup-drop IF and ONLY IF you have an empty cup available to you.<br />
<b>DO</b> pick the cup back up after dropping it.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> throw your cup.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> drop your cup if there is liquid inside of it.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> start a cup-drop just because. Cup-drops happen after one person accidentally DROPS a CUP.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> drop (or throw) anything else on purpose, including but not limited to: utensils, food, people.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6T0VTZx8h1RyRbhMfh4g9itVqhmzYdkF8vXfDxEipIJMqAaw0yXrG-YSmm65CIhrjuQiVaL509W4O5m4VkWqrYdK6E2j-EQ4tAShwGcX0Eos_zxoJml8kbwwc_DAngs-sPngRsu8z4uR_/s1600/pick_it_up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6T0VTZx8h1RyRbhMfh4g9itVqhmzYdkF8vXfDxEipIJMqAaw0yXrG-YSmm65CIhrjuQiVaL509W4O5m4VkWqrYdK6E2j-EQ4tAShwGcX0Eos_zxoJml8kbwwc_DAngs-sPngRsu8z4uR_/s1600/pick_it_up.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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11.) <b>DO</b> let a worker know if the creemee machine is broken.<br />
<b>DON'T </b>break the creemee machine and then walk away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUYywGo7kUv802qM4sg5ijC8x-8n0mVmvQ8kFOH1bSJVNFq9k4aiKcZlgwlEnKLWLW5WJgeN-TgbHCUsJ-Hd-JveBajebiCJZD-Q4Y_FwJajfxi4UjzwIRrU2V27lzSdtbYfg0alsGYTN/s1600/creemee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJUYywGo7kUv802qM4sg5ijC8x-8n0mVmvQ8kFOH1bSJVNFq9k4aiKcZlgwlEnKLWLW5WJgeN-TgbHCUsJ-Hd-JveBajebiCJZD-Q4Y_FwJajfxi4UjzwIRrU2V27lzSdtbYfg0alsGYTN/s1600/creemee.jpg" height="188" width="320" /></a></div>
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12.) <b>DO</b> invite others to sit with you, if you're feeling in the spirit.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> keep asking if they said no once already.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> feel offended if they say no--chances are it's a good reason, like they're waiting for someone, in a rush, working on something, or maybe they just want some alone time. They know the offer stands and they're surely grateful for it, but they also don't owe you their presence--or an explanation.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Jf1GI0OxlncDkoT8f3nDjK2GSRmEukEsg8e4NT3E1WgJQHzkgtuQuvTOV2DJ1gRpp6uakZLHzNAwCJSy0xWOxiYMFXJAeNqMoOsy12i7fujmpBuIthWxzJdKl0ByEuNTkBFzpMrQWF-X/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Jf1GI0OxlncDkoT8f3nDjK2GSRmEukEsg8e4NT3E1WgJQHzkgtuQuvTOV2DJ1gRpp6uakZLHzNAwCJSy0xWOxiYMFXJAeNqMoOsy12i7fujmpBuIthWxzJdKl0ByEuNTkBFzpMrQWF-X/s1600/download.jpg" /></a></div>
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13.) <b>DO</b> clean up your spot when you're finished eating.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> leave a mess. Come on. Not cool.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaBrmUcbKGxIQo1_0lLl9SfcSlIwfJXcTEm62nk5Z8AcADajut6fLtH7KPwqD7GQ97EcbtUOJmQ-QXlnx039BnvBHdNC-iVw3ZSV2VgAFJNNuOMR9X2VX7e7ZPvxCE5DYVoJQ1iOu30OM/s1600/tumblr_lx9qrzgt761qcmcpm.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidaBrmUcbKGxIQo1_0lLl9SfcSlIwfJXcTEm62nk5Z8AcADajut6fLtH7KPwqD7GQ97EcbtUOJmQ-QXlnx039BnvBHdNC-iVw3ZSV2VgAFJNNuOMR9X2VX7e7ZPvxCE5DYVoJQ1iOu30OM/s1600/tumblr_lx9qrzgt761qcmcpm.gif" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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14.) <b>DO</b> scrape any unwanted food from your plate into the compost bin, and place your dishes neatly on the conveyor belt.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> throw something that's not biodegradable in the compost. It is not a trash can. One thing that many people don't know can't be composted--the string to your teabag. Detach it from the bag and leave it on your plate. It'll be taken care of when it goes through the conveyor.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfhi-CLcXXL5ajQ4aE0PCe9LD_wP9dtkFsgYDb_1VYX65e0mwkDNy8D-fhMjLb96xe3WrnDiU1Z9ncp9sDw2_JcOvW8qJ4pl8FPPbQ2Moi0CH4_LMPXeCZIrg_yaHcCE-8la2fTA2E0IX8/s1600/g3913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfhi-CLcXXL5ajQ4aE0PCe9LD_wP9dtkFsgYDb_1VYX65e0mwkDNy8D-fhMjLb96xe3WrnDiU1Z9ncp9sDw2_JcOvW8qJ4pl8FPPbQ2Moi0CH4_LMPXeCZIrg_yaHcCE-8la2fTA2E0IX8/s1600/g3913.jpg" height="173" width="320" /></a></div>
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15.) <b>DO</b> take as much food as you want. After all, you're paying for it and it's buffet-style for a reason.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> waste food. If you're still hungry for more you can always go back up for seconds (or thirds...we're all guilty of it).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaX5MaBzvJ9cZb-O4rK0f4ioRtfwAuX2oE_e9nWLxp3ogwwTheXs6cmWGkQJ_FKzpy1N-nk8vIzt-BG7Xex2_MnUionKM-ynyFdTIWg0g9Hysc0FFY4pkoGQ9bLTTLdQ8Kd9DuToJZw8H/s1600/Gilmore-Girls-gif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhaX5MaBzvJ9cZb-O4rK0f4ioRtfwAuX2oE_e9nWLxp3ogwwTheXs6cmWGkQJ_FKzpy1N-nk8vIzt-BG7Xex2_MnUionKM-ynyFdTIWg0g9Hysc0FFY4pkoGQ9bLTTLdQ8Kd9DuToJZw8H/s1600/Gilmore-Girls-gif.gif" height="195" width="320" /></a></div>
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16.) <b>DO</b> talk to our amazing staff at Alliot about your food restrictions or allergies.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> suffer in silence. Please don't do that.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQf9KfA0L5_hKebuHY4Fj50Q59tNqYI4V7wxU3ajlIuELqVXeJ2gf9IO1f4Lya10Lshb_SB8QjPDwtM-KjdwiICPGsgOX3bb9rMezSqM4T0esrACrOSIwFAruGdLld_ZBUW56mXvYG550/s1600/giphy.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkQf9KfA0L5_hKebuHY4Fj50Q59tNqYI4V7wxU3ajlIuELqVXeJ2gf9IO1f4Lya10Lshb_SB8QjPDwtM-KjdwiICPGsgOX3bb9rMezSqM4T0esrACrOSIwFAruGdLld_ZBUW56mXvYG550/s1600/giphy.gif" /></a></div>
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17.) <b>DO</b> be considerate of Alliot's hours of operation. (7:15 am-8:00 pm on weekdays)<br />
<b>DON'T</b> expect to have a huge selection for dinner if you walk in at 7:50.<br />
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18.) <b>DO</b> ask the Alliot staff about the bag lunch option if you're in class or on the run all day.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> go all day without eating because you think you're too busy to stop in Alliot.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVtZw2QN2cG5Qv-a7Kn9IBCTUzU3QtMdYwY0k3-oVtVrybfz0vLNcZaxVSM83jzLwEhFSKrLX9pTvHJR-yHk8GooLe9VFtBIXcvLgTmkDw2ajVAR_-uNsJEYrotg8D7qjIPtoIc8YQGXF/s1600/LoveFood.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrVtZw2QN2cG5Qv-a7Kn9IBCTUzU3QtMdYwY0k3-oVtVrybfz0vLNcZaxVSM83jzLwEhFSKrLX9pTvHJR-yHk8GooLe9VFtBIXcvLgTmkDw2ajVAR_-uNsJEYrotg8D7qjIPtoIc8YQGXF/s1600/LoveFood.gif" height="126" width="320" /></a></div>
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19.) <b>DO</b> take advantage of our other dining hall, Knights at the Round Table (but please, call it Sloane--it's in Sloane Hall), the restaurant-style option on North Campus. It's included in the meal plan.<br />
<b>DO</b> call and make reservations before you go.<br />
<b>DON'T</b> forget to check the Sloane menu, which changes every two weeks!<br />
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20.) <b>DO</b> make requests/give compliments on the comment cards in Alliot and Sloane. They're there for you and your voice counts!<br />
<b>DON'T</b> forget to thank the awesome staff--<b>DON'T</b> let their hard work go unnoticed!<br />
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Well friends, bon apetit!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQs8-t-k5V07U6SoqS4gC-DW_dBzptv0s1pnUrd7xjzmmBwOgwEyvBuMtrHa8QBiEhV5ErCWw6ycrde7sBrEu5ycnhguRfcpC9aiQJ3bNL1Whm2Ct6_CEHabaRbzSRhy1ClQGhyYGcKptm/s1600/tumblr_m7z5db6mib1qm6onko1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQs8-t-k5V07U6SoqS4gC-DW_dBzptv0s1pnUrd7xjzmmBwOgwEyvBuMtrHa8QBiEhV5ErCWw6ycrde7sBrEu5ycnhguRfcpC9aiQJ3bNL1Whm2Ct6_CEHabaRbzSRhy1ClQGhyYGcKptm/s1600/tumblr_m7z5db6mib1qm6onko1_500.gif" height="128" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-46521940622082532772015-04-28T23:42:00.000+01:002015-04-28T23:48:52.297+01:00On Senioritis.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Friends, funny story for you! I just found a post that I wrote waaaaay back over winter break, before this semester even began. Interesting...must've been my <i>senioritis</i> kicking in which caused me not to post right away and then forget about it! It's a bit of a long one, but if you enjoy my rants as much as my roommates (I bet on Merrill being the first to read this) then you'll want to make a cup of tea and put your feet up. You're welcome.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSii8lv_tlu0hPESGE0tSP07OCyauLgTZ8WrXYJ0um6jPAHkNhrBWbV898BxgQGI8j9KLul7r-v076FVFsSdVXYrlL_DM1LnMYTtpgU2QrnwrXrWnOOMfUocFIlKaJFMv_osGsi0qJX9j/s1600/senioritis-bigposter1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSii8lv_tlu0hPESGE0tSP07OCyauLgTZ8WrXYJ0um6jPAHkNhrBWbV898BxgQGI8j9KLul7r-v076FVFsSdVXYrlL_DM1LnMYTtpgU2QrnwrXrWnOOMfUocFIlKaJFMv_osGsi0qJX9j/s1600/senioritis-bigposter1.jpg" height="100" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Winter break is almost up, and I'm (almost) ready to head into another semester. It also happens to be my last.<br />
<br />
It's a bit surreal to be a second-semester senior. Nothing feels quite right at the moment. Part of this could be that I'm typing to you on a laptop borrowed from my sister, as mine kicked the bucket. Too bad, I had gotten used to moving my mouse to the on-screen keyboard that was perpetually open for whenever I needed an L. And this laptop certainly isn't as pretty, without the "I Like Saint Mike's" and "FRIEND" bumper stickers decorating it.<br />
<br />
But no worries. I still "Like Saint Mike's" and I am still a FRIEND to whoever wants or needs one (read: everyone). Even though, these days, I may not always show it.<br />
<br />
My closest friends this past semester served as witnesses to a rather strange transformation. The kind, moderately extroverted and actively involved campus citizen they once knew turned dangerously self-centered, dropped more than a few former responsibilities, and refused to leave the house if it wasn't necessary. Though always a homebody, I withdrew into my own little world much more than I had in the past, and my presence almost entirely disappeared from campus. People that I used to see frequently, I'd end up only running into once in a blue moon, like if I decided to leave the comforts of my couch to, say, check my mailbox. "Where have you BEEN this semester?!" they'd say, equally genuine about their happiness to see me as well as concerned for my well-being. I repeatedly told them that if they wanted to see me, they could come visit TH 214. Though I tried to be friendly, the message was clear: I'm not going out of my way for you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHe_ZNLZhqMDpfN8ruvtIgvkBOVfQm2_fo_2HMtC6jN6Rhw6hJRas-FrbEGKHoFWdj3DU0hPp1Dd5xnb2UZGA93Klj4fXzmY2XSOCnMg_F5rv3nAv1yXETpGMmpMmyywfwI9x2JW4VSMjG/s1600/senioritis1-300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHe_ZNLZhqMDpfN8ruvtIgvkBOVfQm2_fo_2HMtC6jN6Rhw6hJRas-FrbEGKHoFWdj3DU0hPp1Dd5xnb2UZGA93Klj4fXzmY2XSOCnMg_F5rv3nAv1yXETpGMmpMmyywfwI9x2JW4VSMjG/s1600/senioritis1-300x300.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><br />
I know. Harsh. At first I quite honestly thought there was something wrong with me. I had become completely disinterested, and disengaged, in my immediate surroundings. I woke up in the mornings and groggily dragged myself to class, then went directly back home. On days that I had my internship, I took the bus downtown immediately after class and at the end of the day would once again recede back into my house, walking quickly in a straight line from the stop to my front door, looking at the ground so I didn't have to engage in unwanted pleasantries with passersby--even familiar faces. I was certainly glad to see acquaintances, but only if they made the effort to walk over to the remote 200s townhouses to pay a visit. Otherwise, I wanted nothing to do with, well...anything.<br />
<br />
Then I took a look around at my housemates, neighbors, and other senior class friends. And I realized--it wasn't just me. It was just about all of us. I may be a more extreme case of it, but it seems that all at once, in our final fall semester, the class of 2015 went as off-the-grid as humanly possible. What happened to our community?<br />
<br />
That, my friends, is a product of Senioritis.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDt8Ns1h9QrGJDOXWn2y2ltSxFBDYu-tGdnRxppeYQ82_D-wQrT-EMwu_YLQPTckAxvwDYOp842GKnhmPX8ZrUKpjoeDTewFr6ku-S-LUctUdVoSuE11OiNuT3csuSs6TCrec7wvy6dQRF/s1600/senioritis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDt8Ns1h9QrGJDOXWn2y2ltSxFBDYu-tGdnRxppeYQ82_D-wQrT-EMwu_YLQPTckAxvwDYOp842GKnhmPX8ZrUKpjoeDTewFr6ku-S-LUctUdVoSuE11OiNuT3csuSs6TCrec7wvy6dQRF/s1600/senioritis.jpg" height="172" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The monkey on your back is the latest trend." </td></tr>
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We've all heard of it. And believe it or not, Senioritis exists in a much more intense way in college than the high school version. Think you're really done with your high school homework assignments? Just wait until the late night you're sitting in Bergeron your senior year, working furiously to hand your project in on time, on your fifth cup of coffee, and you have this realization: <i>In about six months, I could be getting paid to do this.</i><br />
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Over. It.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLUGn5d4BWXv_ajFoullVxn78wL1IbdJOgLvUYSVkrZ7Ro0DwyXuH3gLaXyi8__RMxiVMjrbxM9VY84Rl2hm549l7TGV7Ts4jEawxDNsNUHd-ZngPh-GvXRAWZ-qCXSCx6jJbEi3BgLGls/s1600/senioritis_graphic-01.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLUGn5d4BWXv_ajFoullVxn78wL1IbdJOgLvUYSVkrZ7Ro0DwyXuH3gLaXyi8__RMxiVMjrbxM9VY84Rl2hm549l7TGV7Ts4jEawxDNsNUHd-ZngPh-GvXRAWZ-qCXSCx6jJbEi3BgLGls/s1600/senioritis_graphic-01.png" height="247" width="320" /></a></div>
At first, my housemates and I all thought it was an "abroad" thing: come back from seeing the world for a semester and it puts a lot into perspective. Suddenly, the whole "world" that was Saint Mike's seems so insignificant it's almost laughable. This could certainly be a piece of the puzzle. But as the months passed and all four of us still remained generally cranky five days a week, we knew we couldn't only blame it on the experiences we had last spring.<br />
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To all college seniors, present and future: you will experience this at some point. You will at least once dread sitting in a classroom, no matter the subject and who's teaching it. You will get extremely tired of making yet ANOTHER resume or portfolio. You will begin feeling like you've spent 21 years trying to prove yourself, and for what? Because people still don't seem to believe you. You will get really annoyed at underclassmen for no reason other than their existence, and then you will judge yourself for being "that senior" who ruins everything for everyone. You will sit in your required 100-level LSC class thinking, "why do I have to be here and why do all of these people seem so <i>young?" </i>You will procrastinate on <i>everything</i>, even the things you really enjoy doing (hence why I'm spending the last few days of winter break stockpiling blog drafts and why you'll be reading this weeks after it's written--so that this semester the blog doesn't go unattended for months on end). You will respond to most questions with "so what?" and become totally disengaged in your community, at some point--even if just for a few days. You will get sick of parties, loud music, and the grill. You will go to bed very early and wake up very late. You will lose touch with people on campus, sometimes even ones that live very close to you.<br />
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And I want to tell you something. It's okay.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0iaQ9QWX58VmHPDctIUL8UhxHh5mCPFQDMjrRZQGEHiofCRt6jRQWRgH3C5-YeVcX2J6qVS2lL8AE3Sg4gK6vbibANl1ACYnxbb3mbSQ3Q8SSc1PkW4pNRbgb3uIFDSkgBmXi9uaCeEZr/s1600/senioritisdilbert.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0iaQ9QWX58VmHPDctIUL8UhxHh5mCPFQDMjrRZQGEHiofCRt6jRQWRgH3C5-YeVcX2J6qVS2lL8AE3Sg4gK6vbibANl1ACYnxbb3mbSQ3Q8SSc1PkW4pNRbgb3uIFDSkgBmXi9uaCeEZr/s1600/senioritisdilbert.gif" height="140" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sure, it's not ideal to spend a whole semester in this state. But if you're like me, you'll know that you haven't wasted your time. Your circle may have grown a bit smaller--okay, maybe substantially smaller--but there's nothing wrong with being introspective. If you've used this time to do some serious self-evaluation, then you're still on the right track. Especially as seniors, it's important now more than ever to really consider the person you are versus the person you want to be and what's missing to get there.<br />
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Am I suggesting becoming a social outcast? Well, no. And you can bet that I'm going to make sure I spend some time this semester reaching out to people I've lost touch with. Despite a lot of couch potato tendencies that I'll have to work hard to break, I've done major work this semester focusing on myself and my priorities. It turns out I knew a lot of those already--family and friends will always be at the top of my list--but I've also embraced an attitude of self-acceptance. And at a time when the future is so unclear, I've relied on a very simple mantra that I know to be true: <i>I'll be okay.</i><br />
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It's strange to at once feel a hefty dose of cynicism for everything around you and to also feel this sense of world wonder at the same time. But think about it: for the first time in our lives, nothing is certain. At the end of this semester, we are not going on summer vacation. We are not going back to school (unless you already have grad school plans, which if you do, kudos and good luck). We will probably try to "find a job," but where will that lead us? The possibilities are endless.<br />
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Then the cynicism kicks in: but there are "no jobs," all these applications say I need 5+ years experience, <i>I have to move back in with my parents?</i>, I'll probably be a waitress forever, and OMG STUDENT LOAN REPAYMENT. So you can see that on any given day, you may be experiencing either end of the spectrum or even both simultaneously. And your head will want to explode. And that is why you can't be bothered with the local happenings of your small college.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CpAAwgUisaGN9kbKMtlIME1Q__3wmfKSBkA1QAHkDbzP0V4jGKN9Oakd9wlJ8FrF5o1VJDLAlL3wVkRfK8PNRkNhyphenhyphenWPvRLE6mMnT8A2FiBX86b52QaEvz9p9kHD1qrJkazl9CihrxUFa/s1600/images_senior.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CpAAwgUisaGN9kbKMtlIME1Q__3wmfKSBkA1QAHkDbzP0V4jGKN9Oakd9wlJ8FrF5o1VJDLAlL3wVkRfK8PNRkNhyphenhyphenWPvRLE6mMnT8A2FiBX86b52QaEvz9p9kHD1qrJkazl9CihrxUFa/s1600/images_senior.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not possible.</td></tr>
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But here's a way to twist that. Friends, consider yourselves liberated. Hooray, you've stopped caring! As it turns out, your indifference to absolutely everything can indeed help you. Because for the first time, you can totally and completely speak your mind. I don't mean in a way that offends or hurts other people (I may be honest, but not to a fault...), I mean in a way that makes your voice heard on things you're passionate about. For me that's social issues. It turns out that while sitting in that 100-level LSC, while contemplating the youth of those around me, I couldn't be passive anymore. We were discussing the matter of institutionalized racism in America, and I very suddenly one day exploded in a full-on rant about the problem with media coverage related to Ferguson. My classmates stared, as I had been mute for most of the course.<br />
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I took creative liberties with assignments that I would have never taken had I cared more about hitting all the points to get the best grade possible. While filming for my documentary class, I went where the story took me rather than taking an easy way out. I got the story first and fit it into the criteria later. While creating my advertisements, I bent the rules of selling something "used" to fabricate my own makeup-recycling company, activating an imagination that had eluded me for most of the past four years. In my creative writing assignments, I held nothing back. I stopped caring about what my classmates or professors would think of me if I wrote what I honestly felt, and just wrote it. It felt good to unleash thoughts without self-censorship, something that has haunted me despite my desire to write my best work, simply out of shyness.<br />
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Once I motivated myself to stop procrastinating and get ish done, I ended up taking more risks. Most of them (MOST) worked out for the better. Some of them didn't. But hey, guess what? I learned a lot from those! And I'm alive, and my GPA is intact, and I think maybe I have a little more self-esteem. Gaining confidence from your mistakes, folks. A lovely byproduct of not caring so much. An unexpected gain from Senioritis.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXJDjb-v7zPDUy0kpR15vuWmCtA60qll8Y59FdYdqzEHVjk4C5LRZvv_sH0nQQsQnKeIUkCdSLQpG-G-HJYnD5d2xuHQ_EnhOOcpTm0QZgNPfzmTGHmHoWTXPY9lJhResPlEoNTZBsMlb/s1600/f0e6b6c0c8315925a3513fd2d50daed8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXJDjb-v7zPDUy0kpR15vuWmCtA60qll8Y59FdYdqzEHVjk4C5LRZvv_sH0nQQsQnKeIUkCdSLQpG-G-HJYnD5d2xuHQ_EnhOOcpTm0QZgNPfzmTGHmHoWTXPY9lJhResPlEoNTZBsMlb/s1600/f0e6b6c0c8315925a3513fd2d50daed8.jpg" height="200" width="171" /></a></div>
Just don't let it eat you alive. If you use Senioritis as an excuse to repeatedly not study or not hand in assignments, you get what you get (more on this one another time). And, quite frankly, what you deserve. But if you use it as a catalyst to explore, whether it's inner, outward, academic, whatever, then you can come up with some real good stuff.<br />
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Just think of it this way: no matter what, you'll be okay.<br />
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<br />
A looking-back, end-of-the-year update on my thoughts here:<br />
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Well, I think I was pretty angry/confused when I wrote this, and tried to seem like I wasn't...? But at the same time, I was kind of right. I remember being more of a shut-in last semester and repeatedly thinking that I was "doing senior year wrong," but also being too comfortable to have the motivation to do anything about it. And this semester? Well, I <i>did</i> spend more time than I would've liked in front of a computer, but that's pretty expected when you're making a documentary. I was also very over winter, and pretty much spent the entire month of February indoors.<br />
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But I do think I made a lot of progress in several ways. First of all, the whole self-assessment thing is basically a daily activity, but I don't think I mind. Hopefully it helps me be a better person, and I think I've learned to present myself in the best way possible for certain situations while still being genuine (great skill for job interviews). As long as I don't become too self-absorbed and lose sight of the needs of others around me, it's a good thing.<br />
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And, with the increase in warm weather and sunlight and a decrease in workload (my documentary was well-received by a small audience this weekend and I'm tying things up there; I really only have a paper and one small assignment left for my other classes) I've been able to get myself outside more, spend more time with friends again, and simply enjoy the moment. Our last class day is tomorrow and I hand in my final assignments on Friday. After that, I can let the freedom of being a college senior with literally nothing to do take over for ten blissful days.<br />
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Then I graduate, and, you know. Maybe that should be another post topic.<br />
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For now, I'm going to try to get to that paper--despite the senioritis--so that I can enjoy the sunshine for the rest of this beautiful week.Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-70100642288307176512015-04-22T04:30:00.000+01:002015-04-22T04:30:16.022+01:00Updates!Wow, April 21st. Time is flying, swimming, dancing, and doing a lot of other funky things.<br />
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Here's what you need to know:<br />
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1.) I made it through senior sem with my sanity intact. Woohoo!<br />
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2.) Sheila and I presented our project to the students and professors in our department, who received it well with laughter, tears, and plenty of mind-stimulating questions. Our peers presented their projects, too, with much of the same.<br />
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3.) Coming up is the PREMIERE of our film, and YOU are invited! If you're interested in seeing the thing I've been pulling my hair out over all year, then join me at Saint Mike's in Cheray 101 on Sunday, April 26th at 3 p.m. for the first-ever screening of "I'm Still Here: Growing old in ageist America."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOMrjSGr_zzOrXfViRUVjCXBGAu3FaUWG7jV2GO4rpLVymdThlxID0jtbz5MnFIwjtUK_S6lmZrtiTCJzBRUFruQtYafFQrq6449SQOAsyT1IF1-T-dyWS-a6U67u1MzXDeN4e_oQTi8R/s1600/ABImHere.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOMrjSGr_zzOrXfViRUVjCXBGAu3FaUWG7jV2GO4rpLVymdThlxID0jtbz5MnFIwjtUK_S6lmZrtiTCJzBRUFruQtYafFQrq6449SQOAsyT1IF1-T-dyWS-a6U67u1MzXDeN4e_oQTi8R/s1600/ABImHere.jpg" /></a></div>
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4.) While I'm shamelessly promoting myself, you might want to check out the product of something cool I did while <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/search/label/Morocco" target="_blank">studying abroad in Morocco.</a> That's all I'll say here. Don't want to ruin the the surprise. :) <a href="http://www.trust.org/item/20150402163534-qousp/" target="_blank">Click here.</a></div>
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5.) I've been thinking a lot about different things that I want to say before I graduate. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to continue blogging after I move on from Saint Mike's, but regardless, it wouldn't be the same. I have several post ideas, so hopefully you'll be reading more from me in the next couple of weeks. </div>
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But first things first, I want to make sure that I make my in-person thank yous and last remarks while I'm still on campus. This is terrifying for me, as I don't love getting overly sentimental in person (it creeps me out). But I think it's an important thing to do here. </div>
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In both of these cases, it seems like it's the most crucial time for me to have the right words. So of course, it's one of the few times where I can't quite think of any (some of you may remember this same speech from my last days in <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2014/05/what-do-i-do-with-my-hands.html" target="_blank">Morocco</a>). But that's life, I suppose. Chock full of wisdom (or so you think) until it's put to the test.</div>
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Anyway--hopefully I'll work on that and get back to you. Until then, <a href="http://sbogan7.wix.com/imstillhere" target="_blank">check out our film's website</a> (if you want).</div>
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Cheers.</div>
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Lauren</div>
<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-7936044918531235232015-03-30T23:43:00.001+01:002015-03-30T23:43:34.960+01:00The Instant Gram.Has anyone ever thought about picking apart the word "Instagram"? Like, how did they come up with that? Just a thought. Anyway...<br />
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In case you don't know about it yet, Saint Mike's started this cool new Instagram account this semester called <a href="https://instagram.com/knightlifevt" target="_blank">@knightlifevt</a>. It started with my housemate <a href="http://alex-smcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex</a>, and has been circulating around to students with a new person taking over it every week. It's a great way to see what daily life is like for our students at #smcvt!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlTv1DjXF3L-oTyDTeOXBxwCseQJqbctDrX80QK-EhNQloI5GU3ZhapuFv664qns7wkETZUOHeN5vMHH-gSIchOX_5_L8WWKdNH35BQVhg0xnW3_as3SqDjmt8yf1UVMcinhCT-BMm6IM/s1600/IMG_0311.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMlTv1DjXF3L-oTyDTeOXBxwCseQJqbctDrX80QK-EhNQloI5GU3ZhapuFv664qns7wkETZUOHeN5vMHH-gSIchOX_5_L8WWKdNH35BQVhg0xnW3_as3SqDjmt8yf1UVMcinhCT-BMm6IM/s1600/IMG_0311.png" height="320" width="179" /></a></div>
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This week is my turn. I hope you'll join me as I work to finish up my <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/search/label/Senior%20Sem" target="_blank">senior seminar project</a> (due on WEDNESDAY...yikes!) and partake in all the Saint Mike's-y goodness before I head home for Easter break on Thursday. <br />
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Follow me <a href="https://instagram.com/knightlifevt" target="_blank">@knightlifevt</a> and in any other normal week <a href="https://instagram.com/laurenkopchik" target="_blank">@laurenkopchik</a> , and remember to like/comment or email me (<a href="mailto:lkopchik@mail.smcvt.edu">lkopchik@mail.smcvt.edu</a>) if you have questions about Saint Mike's!<br />
Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-70828551705299880112015-03-09T01:12:00.000+00:002015-03-09T01:16:36.436+00:00Progress?I haven't been here in such a long time that it's hard to even know where to begin. A lot has happened lately, not only academically but as well as in my social life and trying to make the most out of my final semester here at Saint Mike's.<br />
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However, as I sit here in Bergeron at 9:03 on a Sunday evening waiting for my Premiere file to export, I am more in the academic mindset and would like to use this post as an opportunity to organize my thoughts.<br />
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Senior Sem is EVERYTHING right now, and I hate to say it but a lot of other things have taken a back seat. Including dinner...I AM SO HUNGRY. As soon as I'm done uploading things I'm headed home to eat.<br />
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Anyway, our project is due April 1st, and that's much sooner than I'm comfortable with at this point, but it's also relieving to know that the end is near. On Wednesday we have the introduction (a.k.a the "Hook") and a chapter of our film due, as well as a written outline that guides us through the story structure.<br />
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Here is a short teaser Sheila made for the film, set to Brandi Carlile's "The Story": <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://ytimg.googleusercontent.com/vi/su96_nhteHQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/su96_nhteHQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Despite Sheila and I constantly scheduling interviews and going out to film, I'll be honest--right now I'm not feeling entirely prepared for this assignment. This has to do with a few things, mainly being that we're not done filming yet--we have a few things we still want to schedule, including some stuff we've planned over spring break, and it's hard to imagine how everything will come together when we don't know how our next few filming sessions are going to go.<br />
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And, since we've been filming so much, we have a lot of material to work with--both a blessing and a curse. We've been cutting and editing interviews as we go, getting rid of bits and pieces we know we certainly won't need. But even after cutting, we still have about 3 hours worth of great interview footage. For a 30-45 minute film.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZyzhDQjtxOQvkNTCSIkPjYU5KaaehzJcaeNF0JYKGIaNuL3lPTJUBEk0nUcViiczWNgACoshzOndLykhEJVaLOzslDOBX2lc_gbBuG5kuCtTAD8Kzp0mvAdC0LSm04K6lTWuTtuXPJHC/s1600/Relax-You-got-this.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZyzhDQjtxOQvkNTCSIkPjYU5KaaehzJcaeNF0JYKGIaNuL3lPTJUBEk0nUcViiczWNgACoshzOndLykhEJVaLOzslDOBX2lc_gbBuG5kuCtTAD8Kzp0mvAdC0LSm04K6lTWuTtuXPJHC/s1600/Relax-You-got-this.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A constant daily reminder that I sometimes need to force myself to believe.</td></tr>
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So, that's what we're dealing with right now. We have a few ideas floating around about what we want to hand in for this assignment, so I'm not overly concerned about making the deadline. If there's one thing I've learned about myself, it's that when things need to be done, they get done. We <strike>might</strike> <strike>probably</strike> DEFINITELY will be making changes before we hand in our final cut, because that's just how it goes. Making a film is like writing a paper. You get the best results once you've gone through a few drafts first.<br />
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Unfortunately for us, that means a whole lot--too much--of our time this month will be spent in front of computer screens. But it will be worth it in the end.<br />
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Because in the end, as with everything we do, it's not <i>just a project</i>. It's what we've learned, the mistakes we've made, the laughs, the tears (more of those to come I'm sure), and most importantly, the people we've connected with over the past 6 months or so. We have become so invested in this film, and we want people to see it. Not just because we've been working so hard on it, but because it's important. And because of that, we want to make sure it's our best work that we put out there. Not only to represent ourselves in the best way possible, but to shed light on a social issue that's too often swept under the rug in a way that makes people question why they believe what they believe (or fear what they fear) about aging--and of course in a way that makes them want to continue the conversation.<br />
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<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-43537276322751040772015-02-15T18:07:00.000+00:002015-05-26T22:47:21.788+01:00Going Places with Senior SemLast week, <a href="http://imjustsheila.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sheila</a> and I went back to our hometown in New York. It wasn't just a normal visit home, though--we actually crashed there after a long 5-hour drive so we could recharge the batteries and then wake up early the next morning and get on a train to New York City, where we did some filming for our senior seminar project.<br />
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As I've mentioned before, Sheila and I have partnered up to film a documentary about aging and ageism for our capstone. This is one of many things I love about MJD. The senior seminar allows us to investigate any topic of our choosing--literally <i>anything</i>--and produce our findings in either a book, website, or documentary format. Pretty much the only criteria is that we do something that hasn't been done before (or explore a past topic from a new angle), work with a partner if it's a documentary, and check in with regular homework assignments and presentations. Otherwise, anything goes.<br />
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Which is a huge undertaking, of course, and tons on tons of work. There's a lot at stake too--the project isn't just a grade, but something that can be put in our portfolio and on our resumes, and maybe even something that's published for people all around the world to see (as has happened with some in the past). I like the way we do our senior seminar in my major because honestly, I don't think I could deal with writing a 50-page paper all semester. Sheila and I did write 52 pages for our proposal, but we took just a few weeks to do it and used it as a way to organize our ideas and research. While it was an important part of the project, it wasn't the <i>only</i> part, so there wasn't as much riding on it as there is for people who do something like that for their entire capstone. Besides, our capstone takes us places other than the library!<br />
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So last Friday we went to NYC and interviewed Ashton Applewhite, a prominent anti-ageism activist and author, and I swear if I hadn't been on a schedule I might still be there because she was so interesting to talk to. She had so many important things to say and her passion really came through on film. I think her voice is going to add a much-needed angle to our film, as she really helped tie together loose ends on a lot of different themes. Sheila is an angel and already made some rough cuts of the interview, which can be found <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P3LdG-LtNa8" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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We also visited the offices of DoSomething.org, a non-profit that seeks to get young people actively volunteering in their communities. Whey them for a film on aging and old people, then? One of their campaigns, called Grandparents Gone Wired (GGW), pairs up a teenage mentor with an older mentee who wants to use a new technology, whether it's Skype to keep in touch with faraway family and friends or an iPad so they can download cool apps or anything in between. We spoke with some of the campaign organizers, and they said it's really helped improve daily life for the older people participating as well as created come great multi-generational friendships--something that Ashton, as well as Sheila and I, really advocate for and something that we're hoping to show others with our documentary, so they're inspired to do it too.<br />
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We had a great day in the city, and we took the train back home to Poughkeepsie to rest up. Then, the next morning, we left for Woodstock for one last NY-based interview.<br />
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I came into contact with <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sD2acCm0qw0" target="_blank">Alix Dobkin</a> through a really interesting chain of events, and I'm so glad I found her and she was willing to do an interview with us. An esteemed folk singer, Dobkin was an integral part of the women's liberation movement of the 60s and 70s. An activist for most of her life, I found her by looking through names on a roster at the Old Lesbians Organizing for Change (OLOC) website. They're a group that works to combat "all the -isms," as Alix put it, and they've done a lot to raise consciousness about homophobia and particularly how it affects aging lesbian women. I'm lucky I've been taught to always do a Google search of the person I'm interviewing before I meet them. As I read about Alix's life and listened to her music that morning before heading out, I realized I had scored the interview of the century. It was incredible to hear some of her stories and she even performed a few songs for us! She also gave us each a copy of her memoir. I can't wait to read it!<br />
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So New York was a great success, and when Sheila and I returned to Vermont we presented our recent work to our classmates. They loved watching some of the footage and we got great feedback about where to go from here. On Friday we went to the Champlain Senior Center, which I've spent a lot of time at already both this and last semester, to film part of a Valentine's Day celebration. It was great to see so many familiar faces and a ton of new ones as well.<br />
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Coming up is another batch of interview subjects, and we have quite the array of people who have shown interest already. Right now we're working on confirming plans with a few women from the Burlington branch of OLOC, a local group similar to DoSomething's GGW campaign, and the Alzheimer's Association. We have a few exciting events coming up, too. Since we're taking a very holistic approach toward looking at every facet of aging and ageism, we have a lot of ground to cover. The more interviews to help with that, the better!<br />
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As you can see, we definitely have a lot going on to keep us busy. Our film is tentatively titled The Art of Aging, and if you want to keep up with our progress you can follow us on social media:<br />
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<a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Art-of-Aging/428727290619557?ref=aymt_homepage_panel" target="_blank">Facebook</a><br />
<a href="https://twitter.com/theartofaging" target="_blank">Twitter</a><br />
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We also have a (VERY rough) website, where we'll be posting more soon, <a href="http://sbogan7.wix.com/imstillhere" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Who knows where the rest of the semester will take us? Stay tuned!Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-86112946687619377312015-02-02T21:08:00.000+00:002015-02-02T21:08:06.708+00:00Snow Days at Saint Mike's<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from my front door on this snowy day.</td></tr>
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As I often tell my tours, the "snow day" is a rare occurrence at Saint Michael's College. Since we are a fully residential college, classes are never formally cancelled for the school. Most students have a less-than 5-minute walk from their domiciles to their classrooms, so it's pretty understandable.<br />
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("Come on, this is VERMONT. We don't stop for a few snowflakes!" says every native Vermonter, as they stand in 3 feet of snow bundled in their L.L. Bean coats wearing lumberjack hats and shoveling out their Subarus. Put on your big girl boots and toughen up, kid. We're in for a long winter--groundhog said so.)<br />
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However, just because it's still easy for the students to show up doesn't mean it's always this way for professors, so sometimes classes are cancelled on an individual or class-by-class basis. Every morning in the winter, students all over campus wake up in the morning and rush to their windows. If there's so much as a single flake in the air, they rush to their laptops with excitement equivalent to a small child's as they check their emails.<br />
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Now, I've heard plenty of stories. Profs SKIING to class in the morning to stay on top of their syllabus, doing everything they can to bring knowledge to their students (they're dedicated, and they are Vermonters, after all). In fact, many of them also live very close to campus and don't have long walks themselves. But, every now and then, a snowstorm can be too much for even the most well-weathered SMC professor.<br />
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So it is with great pleasure that I opened my laptop this morning, still wrapped in my cozy blanket and wearing my fuzzy sleep socks, to find that my prof for my only class today didn't want to risk it. He advised that we use the spare time to work on our projects and wished us a happy day.<br />
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Rather than venturing out in the cold, I decided to take him up on that opportunity and work from home on some things that needed to be done as well as more planning for my senior seminar project. I write to you from the warm comforts of my couch, wearing those same fuzzy sleep socks, sipping on some delicious French Vanilla hot chocolate.<br />
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Happy Snow Day to all! Stay warm everyone!Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-72020834724044831392015-01-30T00:51:00.002+00:002015-02-11T16:58:37.751+00:00"Who is Not Here?"This post is quite late in the making, but as my friend <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/2015/01/mlk-jr-day-more-than-just-day.html" target="_blank">Merrill</a> said--it's not exactly late when every day is a good day to talk about it, not just the national holiday to commemorate it.<br />
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And what's the "it"? Well, if I'm being honest, not just one thing. We learn at Saint Mike's that everything is connected--after all, that's the essence of a liberal arts education--and I can't think of a better example than this year's celebration of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.<br />
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I began last week with a roommate outing to see <i>Selma</i>, the new film starring David Oyelowo as MLK. It's a heart-wrenching and incredibly beautiful tribute to not only Dr. King but the hundreds of thousands of people who supported the movement that we study in our textbooks today. I highly recommend seeing it, for anyone who hasn't yet.<br />
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One thing that really moved me about this film is the soundtrack, and my roommates and I have been listening to the song "Glory" on repeat. John Legend and Common together is a beautiful thing, and even better are the thought-provoking lyrics, which draw parallels between the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s and today's modern movement for racial equality. This song is important because it drives us into the present, and over this past MLK celebration week, I've been impressed at seeing what can happen when we interpret our past in a way that can help us reflect on now.<br />
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The week started off with the MLK convocation, which is an annual event held in the chapel where different speakers are asked to come give a keynote address to kick off the week. This year, the headliner was <a href="http://www.kevinpowell.net/" target="_blank">Kevin Powell</a>, an incredibly successful activist, writer, and public speaker. I think what I liked most about his speech was the inclusiveness of it. While the main takeaway was of course to continue working toward racial equality, he made note that we're not done with this conversation until people of all races, religion, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, ability and age are treated with the same amount of acceptance and respect, all around the world. His words inspired and ignited. The night continued with speeches from students, beautiful music, and incredible poetry.<br />
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However, I think the most important thing about this event was the theme. The name for this week's discussion was, "Who is Not Here?" and I think that's the best question we, as a student body, should be asking ourselves. This is what I mean by bringing Dr. King's words into the present, into this time and place.<br />
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It's no secret that a private, Catholic, liberal arts college in Vermont would draw in a specific crowd. We are a school of predominantly white, middle-class skiers and snowboarders from the New England area. Despite Saint Michaels' best efforts to increase diversity on campus, the majority of our students have the same background and have lived very similar lives. So we must ask, who is not here? And by their absence, what are <i>we </i>missing?<br />
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I remember as a first-year student taking my Race, Gender and Ethnicity in the Media class. I was excited for it, and then on the first day looking around the room and thinking, how are we going to have a conversation about race when the student body in this classroom only represents one of them? When the most racially diverse class I had here came my senior year, and that was because a whopping 4 out of 18 students were a race other than white, I had to take a step back and think, how have I isolated myself so much from being able to learn in a diverse community--and what am I <i>not </i>learning because of it?<br />
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That's not to say that it's not an inclusive community here. Looking around at my peers, I know that I am surrounded by intelligent, socially engaged people who are quick to strike up a conversation with anyone around them, no matter their race, class, age, etc. They're interested in everyone and everything, they aren't quick to make judgments, they're good listeners, and they care about the world and the people in it. They're like me. They were attracted to Saint Mike's for the friendly community as well as the rigorous academics, the challenges they knew they'd get here. They came here for those things.<br />
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And yet...and yet. They came here too, though, because they were <i>able</i>.<br />
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They were able to come here because they went through a school system that prepared them for college. A school system with enough resources to truly challenge them and to empower them into believing they would accomplish everything they set their minds to. Most of them had supportive families and friends encouraging them. Many of them had guidance counselors and other helping hands. Many of them had money. They took tests that favored literature they grew up knowing, written by men who looked like them, cultures that were familiar to theirs. They grew up comfort<i>able</i>, and that led them here.<br />
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Moise St. Louis, Dean of Students and also our Director of Multicultural Affairs, said something at the beginning of the evening that really stuck with me. He told us that sometimes, we do our best learning when we are <i>un</i>comfortable. He told us not to bat off our discomfort, but to sit with it. If it feels like something's wrong, then something's wrong.<br />
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On an individual level, it's nobody's fault. But collectively, we don't have to accept this separate world we live in the way it is. And to begin that conversation, well, that <i>does</i> start with individuals. So, this is me acknowledging my privilege. It is my <i>privilege</i> to be here at this prestigious institution, because I was <i>able</i> to be here. I chose it because it was the best education I could possibly get, and that is my privilege--one of many. I support the diversity initiative here at Saint Mike's, but I'm arguing (and I think everyone would agree) that we need more. More needs to be done, and it needs to happen now.<br />
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That's all very good and idealistic, isn't it? So where are the real, concrete answers here? I'm going to be honest--I don't know. Even after sitting in the chapel and being so impassioned by Kevin Powell's words, by this beautiful collective moment of catharsis we shared...I walked out of there and immediately felt flattened back out. What do I do? What do <i>we</i> do?<br />
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The answers aren't easy to come by. That's why I needed this education in the first place. Sometimes I think that the only thing I learned here is that I know nothing. But, ironically, I had a professor who once told me that that was all I ever needed to know. Because if I know that I know nothing, then <i>I'll keep searching</i>.<br />
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Hopefully, enough of us will keep searching. If we do, we will find each other, and someday we will all end up <i>here</i>.<br />
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PS: On a related note, I want to take a moment to congratulate my long-distance friend Fatima, who has been awarded for her outstanding journalism on her city's response to the Ferguson verdict. You can read her work<a href="http://www.thecampanil.com/oakland-community-responds-to-ferguson-verdict-in-protest/" target="_blank"> here, on her school's newspaper website.</a> Keep reporting the truth, Fats, even when it's something other people might not want to hear.<br />
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<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-23917759690704199222015-01-16T17:54:00.000+00:002015-01-16T17:54:28.647+00:00Second Semester, Senior Year.Well, here we are, folks!<br />
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Y'all know how much I love it here at Saint Mike's, so it's a little bittersweet to know that my time is so extremely limited now. I feel like I have to accomplish so many things in a very small number of days in order to have had the true Saint Michael's and Vermont experience. I'm suddenly rushing to write a bucket list with my housemates, hoping I'll have time for everything in this race against the clock.<br />
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But at the same time, I realize that feeling does a total injustice to everything I <i>have </i>done here over the past three and a half years. And I've done a LOT.<br />
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And, despite the mixed feelings about having to leave so soon, I can't help but feel that the time is right. Even though I have some really interesting classes this semester with some fantastic professors (we'll get to those details in a moment), it's been taking me some extra motivation to care about attending them as much as I did when I was a first-year. I'm still learning so much, but I'm starting to feel a bit beyond the classroom vibe. I'm ready to show up (to whatever I end up doing in a few months) in the morning with the same vigor that I went to an 8am class with three years ago (thinking <i>that's</i> what it means to "sleep in"...silly young Lauren).<br />
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That feeling has nothing to do with my schedule and everything to do with senioritis (a post on that is in progress). So, without further ado, here's what I've got going on as well as my predictions for the semester:<br />
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1.) The Great (Fire)Wall: Monday & Wednesday, 1:30-3:05 P.M.<br />
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I am of course very excited to be taking this course, as I'll be learning about a culture I know nothing about--just like before I went to Morocco. I'm especially curious about the media environment in China, as we're all aware that the internet is heavily monitored (I wonder if you can access my blog in China...?). One thing I am NOT thrilled with: hearing the other students discuss their excitement to go on the trip, as I unfortunately won't be able to make it. The group leaves a couple days after graduation, and between my financial situation after having traveled so much in the spring and summer (read: I'm broke) and my current state of "what the heck are my plans for a few months from now" I wasn't comfortable with taking off for another adventure just yet. Everything is a bit too up in the air for that.<br />
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So yeah, I'm a little jealous, but I'm not the only one in my class who isn't going. Despite my travel bug, I do think the class will be worthwhile. This is also my first experience with Professor Rob Williams, or "Dr. W" as he refers to himself, and he's super charismatic and definitely passionate about this subject. He opens every class with a loud and proud "Ni Hao!"<br />
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2.) Environmental Hazards: Tuesday & Thursday, 9:45-11:20 A.M.<br />
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This is my final class to complete my Environmental Studies minor. I had the option to take any ES course offered this semester, as I already completed the required courses. At first I really wanted to take Buddhism and the Environment, but for scheduling purposes I thought this might work better for me. It turns out that what started out as my second option is quickly becoming a major topic of interest for me. I'm more interested in the social side of natural disasters, including anything from prevention to human impact to legislation. We're covering all of that, plus learning about how natural disasters occur and some of the science-y things behind them (yes, I'm truly a liberal arts kid through and through...).<br />
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We're also looking at this from a global perspective, so I'm pretty pumped for our research paper (yes, you heard me right. Pumped. For a research paper.) where we get to choose a country and look at what types of environmental hazards they've had within the past generation or so, and how they've dealt with them. At first I was totally ready to start looking at Morocco, but now with my China class I'm thinking maybe I'll do some searching there, too. Actually, this week in my China class someone mentioned the smog over Beijing due to factory processes, and the types of human health and environmental impacts this has had. Maybe I'll do some more digging around, but it's nice to know I already have a few options in mind.<br />
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The major con: as with a lot of topics in ES, this can get incredibly depressing. You can't talk about environmental hazards without talking about degradation and death. But I think that's what makes it so important, too, and why it needs discussion. The other con is that my textbook still hasn't arrived in the mail, but thankfully Professor Stroup is super nice and allowed me to make copies from hers for the time being so I don't fall behind. I'm glad I asked for help!<br />
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3.) Senior Sem: Wednesdays, 3:15-6:20 P.M.<br />
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This course description is accurate, and yet it tells you NOTHING. What do you need to know about this course?<br />
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This course will empower you and routinely crush your dreams at the same time, and it is fantastic.<br />
<br />
What do I mean by that? Okay, so maybe it was a little melodramatic, but basically this course is a whole lot of work with a whole lot of reward. It's just like the <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2014/04/birta-isj-and-so-many-feels.html" target="_blank">ISJ I did in Morocco</a>, but on a bigger scale. And honestly, after doing my ISJ, I absolutely can't wait to jump into this project.<br />
<br />
So as you know, I'm working with my best friend <a href="http://imjustsheila.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sheila</a> on a documentary film about ageism and forming relationships in senior citizen communities. We've been doing research and establishing contacts, and now it's time to get filming. I'm meeting up with her and Professor Hyde later this afternoon to discuss our next steps and how we're going to accomplish the huge task we have in front of us.<br />
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It's obviously a ton of outside work, so why the three-hour class? It's a great time to collaborate with other groups, learn about their topics, and bounce ideas off of each other. Each week a different person brings snacks, and it's basically having a homework party with your best friends. I can tell, this class is going to be like hitting a refresh button for me. Whenever I get stressed out, it helps me to walk into class and talk to my professors and classmates. Not only do they validate my concerns, but they also help me work through them when I'm stuck. Looking around the room at our first meeting the other day, I was so content. And once we got talking and pitching our ideas, it was like someone lit a fire. We feed off of each other's passion and drive, and that is by far what I love most about our little Bergeron community.<br />
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What a perfect way to end four years, right?<br />
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So, in case you haven't noticed, that's three classes, four days a week. That leaves me with one less class than normal and a whole gosh-darn day!<br />
<br />
I only needed 8 credits to graduate, as some of my high school AP courses carried over and counted for college credit. So I chose to take 12 (that way I'm still a full-time student with health insurance) and allow myself a day off in the process. Since I'm really committed to this senior seminar documentary, I honestly don't think I'll have as much free time as one might expect. And I'm glad to have a 3-day weekend--Sheila and I are already planning a trip to New York City to interview some people there for our documentary, and this gives me more travel time without missing class.<br />
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But for now, I'm happy to use my Fridays as blog days and to get a head start on work for the next week. I'm feeling really good about getting back into the groove after a long and mostly uneventful winter break--not having any projects gets a bit boring!<br />
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To all my readers, good luck embarking on this new semester!<br />
<br />
LaurenLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-31152909240784912082014-11-30T04:40:00.000+00:002014-11-30T04:55:15.317+00:00There's so much to be thankful for.I stole my title from a Josh Groban song on his Christmas album--because yes, I am already listening to Christmas music, and no, I am not ashamed of it. Moving on.<br />
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I know it might be a bit overkill to make a post during Thanksgiving break about what I am thankful for, but I decided to take a page from <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/2014/11/what-are-you-really-thankful-for.html" target="_blank">Merrill's</a> book and take a moment to look at life. Especially in terms of recent events in the past few months alone, I'm realizing more and more how truly lucky I am for all I have.<br />
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First and foremost,<b> I am thankful for family.</b> From my immediate family, to my sweet grandmother, to my cousin who will be married this April and everyone in between. For better or worse, these are the people I'm stuck with (just kidding guys...sort of...). They're the ones who have helped shaped me as a person and supported me to become who I am today. They were here in the beginning and they'll be here my whole life, just as they always have, and I think that's amazing.<br />
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I am grateful to have known all four of my grandparents, and one great-grandparent.<br />
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I am grateful to have both of my parents, still together, as a strong presence in my life. Their support, despite frequent differences in opinion, is perhaps the sole significant factor in what has most enabled me to explore and live the way I've wanted to. Though I've put up with plenty of "black sheep" jokes over the years, I know they're proud that I'm their...uh...<i>unique</i> younger daughter.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdIh6RNJ05PWwGrRIOCIZV_6iLo4bXJelPbMLPjtcxxNNIrPqDl6MkOj07ObBjHJv594PX1bFyARiuSla7Pje061WEJEirywMOLh6piflQyOSr9j-WyUWorPcIv6RgROmHxfQrXD6XdQ9/s1600/392205_300049110017714_1584757336_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmdIh6RNJ05PWwGrRIOCIZV_6iLo4bXJelPbMLPjtcxxNNIrPqDl6MkOj07ObBjHJv594PX1bFyARiuSla7Pje061WEJEirywMOLh6piflQyOSr9j-WyUWorPcIv6RgROmHxfQrXD6XdQ9/s1600/392205_300049110017714_1584757336_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Kopchik family on Thanksgiving, circa 2011. </td></tr>
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<b>I am thankful for the girls of #TH214</b>...though you definitely already knew that by now. I could (and have) go on about them all day. All I can say is, senior year won't be the end for us. Before I start crying real tears, I'm moving on.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They're my kind of crazy.</td></tr>
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Over Thanksgiving break, I had the opportunity to return to my old high school during school hours for the first time since I walked out of those doors on the last day of classes my senior year, way back in 2011. I visited my old history teacher's class, where I spoke to his African Studies students about my semester abroad in <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/search/label/Morocco" target="_blank">Morocco</a>. This caused me to reflect on a few things:<br />
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<b>I am thankful for the teachers in my life</b>, all of whom instilled in me a love of learning and healthy sense of curiosity. From my own father, who taught for over 30 years, to my favorite school teachers throughout my childhood and young adulthood, to my professors and mentors, and all of my informal "teachers" who have proved invaluable along the way--every single one of them showed me the importance of not only knowledge, but wisdom. And all of the other good things (eloquence, for instance...#oops).<br />
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<b>I am thankful, time and time again, for Morocco.</b> I am thankful for experience, opportunity, and travel, and I've had a lot of all of those. But I can't think of a better way to express that gratitude than to reflect on the time I had in Morocco, which was the epitome and culmination of all of those things and even more. I am thankful that I was welcomed with open arms into a country I hardly knew anything about before arrival. I'm thankful the the hundreds of strangers I met along the way who helped me with simple good deeds, who smiled when they saw a lost girl who just needed a little kindness, and of course who listened patiently as I tried to explain what I needed in a mixture of grammatically broken languages, bad accents and hand gestures. I'm thankful to my host families, my friends from around the world, and the cats--the CATS!<br />
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I'm grateful for Fatima and Lina, who I met in Morocco and who I still talk to on a regular basis. Though there is more distance, our friendship only grows stronger.<br />
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I'm grateful that my host family still stays in touch, and that even those who can't speak English still let me know they're thinking of me and communicate by sending me pictures of the kids or silly Facebook stickers. I'm also grateful that they seem to know exactly when I really need them. When I'm having a bad day or feeling particularly nostalgic, I open my inbox and without a doubt, there they are.<br />
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And just when I feel like some things are slipping away, or I get sad because I look back on Morocco and wonder if I'll ever experience something like that again, something happens to bring it all back. Like a former teacher inviting me to talk to his class about it. Or the time Peggy Imai asked me to speak on a panel to parents of students who want to study abroad. Or when I give a tour, and the students are particularly interested in discussing it. All of those memories suddenly come rushing back, and though it's a bittersweet experience, every time <b>I am thankful that I get to share my story with others.</b><br />
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<b>Readers, I am thankful for you.</b><br />
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Some other unsung heroes? <b>I am thankful for </b>two guys in #TH217, who vehemently refuse to make the hashtag I created for them a thing. They, as well as a bunch of other kids on campus, have been great friends since freshman year, and college would not have been the same without my extensive SMC family. I am also thankful for <a href="http://sbogan7.wix.com/imjustsheila" target="_blank">Sheila</a>, who I have known since high school and have gotten so much closer with in college. She has been there for so many important moments, and there is nobody else I'd rather do my senior seminar project with this year.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's a gem! <3</td></tr>
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<b>I'm also thankful for the incredible people at the Champlain Senior Center</b>, a community that I only joined very recently but I've already grown quite attached to. While conducting research and doing interviews for a film project and for senior sem, I've gotten to know some incredible ladies who have remarkable stories to tell. My visits to the Center have easily become a highlight of every week and the warm welcome I've received there has gone unmatched to any experience I've had other than Morocco.<br />
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Last but not least, I am thankful to Elizabeth ("Iz", as I like to call her), who I have known since the 7th grade and have therefore gone through every awkward phase in life with. As someone I don't get to see very often these days, I've come to realize her importance more and more as time goes on. As my grandma used to say, "absence makes the heart grow fonder." Iz, my heart is as fond as humanly possible right now, so it's about time we had a girl date this coming break.<br />
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There are so many other people and things in life that I am thankful for, but I think you guys get it. Like my buddy Josh said, there's so much to be thankful for.<br />
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Best wishes,<br />
<br />
Lauren<br />
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(PS, I'm also thankful for music--currently listening to "Need a Little Sunshine" by Augustana, one of my favorite bands...who I am very grateful to have seen in concert at Higher Ground recently with my housemate Cait. Dream come true!)<br />
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<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-22672823678810643302014-10-16T16:01:00.000+01:002014-10-16T16:01:14.565+01:00Yes, I am procrastinating right now.Good morning, readers!<br />
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After the past few tours I've given, I've been thinking a lot about the way I represent myself to students. I am a self-defined hard worker, and I do believe my professors, classmates, and colleagues would agree.<br />
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However, I am not a robot. When I first became a tour guide, I used to be afraid to admit my faults--like how, on a daily basis, I STILL struggle with time management. Normally when I'm speaking to prospective students I paint it as a thing of the past, something I "used to" have a problem with until I took my first year seminar course and learned tricks from my professor to stay on top of my work.<br />
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I will give myself the credit of knowing that my time management skills have indeed improved immensely since my freshman year. This comes naturally, as you become more used to the college routine and the knowledge that you're going to be scheduling your week and doing things differently every semester.<br />
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But if I'm being honest with myself, the struggle is still real. And I think that's true for most of us--we will always have days, weeks, or semesters when we just cannot get a grasp of what the perfect schedule is for us. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gosh, where did the time go?</td></tr>
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I think this is important to recognize, nothing to shy away from, and nothing to be embarrassed about. Because time management skills and procrastination are such huge issues among our generation, it's necessary to talk about.<br />
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So, back in the day when I was a first-year student, I wasn't quite sure how to handle the whole college thing. For the first time in my young adult life, my day wasn't dictated by a bell schedule. I had to keep an eye on the time for myself and get myself to class on time. I had more responsibility and more freedom at the same time--I mean, how <i>weird</i> it was that I didn't have to start the morning with the pledge of allegiance, that I could go put my books away in my <i>room</i> rather than my locker (and maybe take a nap before my next class while I was at it), and that I could freely venture off-campus during the school day if I wanted to? I didn't even have to take gym class anymore! It seemed great.<br />
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Then, a few weeks into the semester, I suddenly became incredibly overwhelmed. I realized that I had no idea when I should be eating, sleeping, or doing homework, and two out of three of those things ended up often happening at 3 a.m. (I bet you can guess which ones). I'd show up to class with dark circles under my eyes. I hadn't yet discovered coffee, but the black tea in my to-go mug was a constant. It was around this time that Professor Sloane, my first year seminar instructor, decided to talk to my class (most of whom looked as much of a wreck as I did) about time management.<br />
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Since then, I've pulled more than a few all-nighters. I've eaten pizza at 4 a.m. I've spent my weekend engaging in fun activity after fun activity (or laying around watching Netflix) until 10 p.m. on Sunday evening, a prime time to start thinking about homework (and not actually starting until 11). I've admittedly been late to class due to trying to complete or print an assignment last-minute. I've made all the mistakes and poor time-management choices one could possibly make.<br />
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Why am I telling you this? To remind you that <b>you are not alone </b>and <b>it happens.</b> We all procrastinate and we all make some of those bad choices. It doesn't make us bad people, it makes us normal people.<br />
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So, what do I do when I get stuck in a procrastination rut?<br />
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<b>-You're working on a paper. </b>Your research is done and laid out in front of you, you've got Microsoft Word up on your computer, and twenty minutes ago you typed a heading and your first two sentences. Since then, you've been staring at the blinking cursor on your screen in a total daze. What gives?<br />
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This is your brain telling you that <b>you need to take a break.</b> You need a few minutes to get yourself back into the groove you were in earlier, or something that will help you transition from the reading and processing information phase into the writing phase. Rather than letting your brain sit idle, as that can easily get you to lose interest, turn your attention to something else that will help you get into a good mindset for the task at hand. For me, that was switching over to write this blog post. I just finished my research for a paper I'm working on, and halfway into my first paragraph began to zone out. So I came over here. Is it a form of procrastination? Yes. But it's a <b>productive</b> form of procrastination (strange such a thing can exist, I know) and as soon as I'm done with this I know I'll be ready to focus on my paper.<br />
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<b>-You just don't want to do it.</b> But you have to.<br />
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More often than not, this will happen to me when I have to leave my house in order to work on something, such as when I have a project that involves using Adobe programs and I have to walk over to Bergeron or Jeanmarie and get on a computer. The way I handle this is simple, but it's effective. All I do is repeat to myself how much <b>I truly enjoy the work I'm doing.</b> Hopefully, especially by the time you're in college, you're passionate about what you're learning (if you're not, then the source of your problem isn't procrastination, it's that you might not be doing what's best for you, and you might want to re-evaluate what you really want to do). Once I get myself off the couch and over to a computer lab, I get completely lost in my work. I'm so transfixed on my project that I don't realize how much time passes (which explains the whole 4 a.m. thing) and I often leave the lab feeling great about the time I put in (and wishing I had started earlier).<br />
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<b>-Your friends want to chill, but you have stuff to do.</b><br />
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Maybe they finished all their work while you were binge-watching Gilmore Girls and eating a tub of Cheese Balls. That was your choice. Take ownership of it, pity yourself for a few minutes, go through the stages of anger while you think about how your friends are having a great time without you, and then <b>move on.</b> Chances are they're doing the same thing this Sunday that they'll be doing next Sunday (or something equally fun), and maybe you can join them then, if you work your schedule out better this week. In fact, make that your goal so that you can enjoy that time.<br />
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If you <b>do</b> choose to hang out with them over homework (maybe they had concert tickets or something out of the ordinary was happening), you need to take ownership of that decision, too. You know you're getting home at 11 p.m. and you still need to write a speech for the next day that counts for half your grade? Well, okay, but realize that when you're still awake the next morning, you made this choice. Make some coffee, put on a nice dress and a smile, rock that speech and then go home and take a long nap. It happens to all of us. Just don't make it a habit, and remember above all that you need to <b>take care of yourself.</b><br />
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So kids, that's that. Manage your time well. If you make a mistake, <b>forgive yourself</b>, and remember for next time where you went wrong. Now that I've had a productive hour of procrastination, I'm ready to tackle that paper. Let's get to it!<br />
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PS, I'm stealing this cute idea from my lovely housemate <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Merrill</a>: What I'm listening to right now: "Brothers" album by The Black Keys</div>
<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-34813903296314112792014-10-03T21:28:00.000+01:002014-10-03T21:37:09.158+01:00MJD On and Off Campus<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPz50pJsqvPsXs2C1CowszBBGBUPU2lwwDWnzRiC4JL6wgymZakO1SWPQUATWMIIT3UpwS6dXsRJl6xG2GSRtmPpgoAUfepMmH2GrX7cdw-rNhrVV6taE1HSpfD9qf21uVpb-OUoSp1ng1/s1600/1002141605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPz50pJsqvPsXs2C1CowszBBGBUPU2lwwDWnzRiC4JL6wgymZakO1SWPQUATWMIIT3UpwS6dXsRJl6xG2GSRtmPpgoAUfepMmH2GrX7cdw-rNhrVV6taE1HSpfD9qf21uVpb-OUoSp1ng1/s1600/1002141605.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Saint Mike's we like to say nice things about each other!</td></tr>
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Wow, is it really 5 weeks into the semester already? I can't believe how quickly time is moving. I think it definitely has to do with the fact that this is senior year, but also because my friends and I have all been so busy!<br />
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Last time I told you about my housemates and how we all have these really cool and different things going on. Cait has a major role in the Student Association and just started a blog for her Animal Rights class. <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Merrill</a> is working hard with an off-campus internship. <a href="http://alex-smcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex</a> just completed her LSATs and is now focused on different aspects of her business major and her role as our Blogging Coordinator. All four of us are constantly running around to get things done, but the best parts of our days are in the morning when we get ready together and at night when we can gather on the couch (or the bed in whoever's room we choose to crowd in for the evening) and discuss everything that happened since our woman-empowered dance party that took place in the bathroom that morning.<br />
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So, what have I been up to? What have I NOT been up to might be a shorter list!<br />
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I'm taking five classes this semester, although two of them are half-credit. Three of those courses are MJD (<a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/p/the-abcs-of-mjd-at-smc.html" target="_blank">Media Studies, Journalism, and Digital Arts</a>), but only one of them is actually required for my major. That's my <a href="http://catalog.smcvt.edu/preview_program.php?catoid=21&poid=1757&returnto=365" target="_blank">Senior Seminar</a> class, a half-credit course that helps me prep for my project next semester. Senior Sem is a little bit different in MJD than for other majors because we work on it all year, whereas most students complete their projects in one semester. This semester, we focus on doing research and planning out our projects. Next semester is all about the execution of the project and producing the book, website, or documentary that will be the final product of eight months of work. My friend <a href="http://sbogan7.wix.com/imjustsheila" target="_blank">Sheila</a> and I are currently working on research for a documentary we want to make regarding ageism (and many things related to this broad subject, but I'll leave you waiting in anticipation for now).<br />
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My other two MJD courses are electives, and so far they're definitely taking up most of my work time. However, they're super cool, and I'm glad I chose to take them for a number of reasons--most importantly because they get me off campus and practicing what I've learned in the "real world," much like I did last semester in Morocco.<br />
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The first course is called Digital Film and TV ("Digi-film" for short). In this class, Professor Hyde teaches us about film and all of the techniques that go into making them. We're learning how to use Adobe Premiere to edit our own short films. Our first project has encouraged us to find someone off the SMC campus who has some sort of creative passion that helps them "escape" into another world. I had a little trouble finding a subject at first, until one day when I was out on Church Street watching all of the buskers. I came across a young woman playing an accordion and singing, and I was taken aback by the way she threw herself into the music. She'd stomp her feet, close her eyes when she belted out a high note, and throw her whole body into the accordion as it expanded and collapsed. I immediately knew that I wanted to make my documentary about <a href="http://laciharmon.weebly.com/" target="_blank">Laci</a>, and since that day I've been having a blast filming her in interviews and street performances. Not only do I now have some experience of what it's like to film in public, but I have a great new friend with an incredible talent!<br />
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The second course is my internship class, instructed by Allison Cleary. Though a full-credit course, it only meets once a week because the rest of our time is filled with working on-site at our internship locations. In class we get together and discuss how our work is going. We also learn how to properly represent ourselves on social media outlets like LinkedIn and touch up our resumes. We took a Myers-Briggs personality test with Ingrid Peterson from our <a href="http://www.smcvt.edu/Experience/Careers-and-Internships.aspx" target="_blank">Career Services</a> office. I just had a mock interview with Ingrid the other day as an assignment for class as well, and I was really happy to get some feedback on where I can improve my interview skills (I've got to work on my handshake!). Overall, the class itself is a great way to collaborate with my MJD friends about how to carry ourselves in a professional setting and how to resolve issues that may arise during the learning process.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwrqrnW3eOdZIyN-i-q-581vKcD17pfHDnfDfpovzmZ3WJYg40HQ5l7kmrFZnYw7F6mM04I6a-TvdsRrdvwh7uj7F1u3HHIUMBdkdU7Sy3b6yTarKTbLQr3fxAL1qO7ZDOS9e5AqSriEg/s1600/1002141509a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwrqrnW3eOdZIyN-i-q-581vKcD17pfHDnfDfpovzmZ3WJYg40HQ5l7kmrFZnYw7F6mM04I6a-TvdsRrdvwh7uj7F1u3HHIUMBdkdU7Sy3b6yTarKTbLQr3fxAL1qO7ZDOS9e5AqSriEg/s1600/1002141509a.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In class yesterday, we went out to the Word Garden and chose two words that describe our experiences so far. I chose "roam" because I've been enjoying walking to my internship site in the lovely weather we've been having. I've found that it's good to walk and let my mind wander before going to sit at a computer and focus hard on it for hours at a time. I also chose "enthusiasm" because while I may not do everything right, I do it with enthusiasm!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Professor Cleary led the class in our Word Garden exercise.</td></tr>
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My site location is at the <a href="http://www.emilypost.com/" target="_blank">Emily Post Institute</a>. I'm their Web Development and Marketing intern, and so far the experience has been great. I'm learning a ton about web maintenance and I have one huge web project that will take a good deal of the semester to complete. So far, I'm in a nice friendly environment where I can truly learn and grow from my supervisors and coworkers.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In another class exercise, we went around the room saying what we thought each others' strengths were. My classmates and professor had such nice things to say about me!</td></tr>
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I'm definitely loving my off-campus experiences so far. It's showing me that I can apply everything I've learned here to a larger setting, and I appreciate the feeling of knowing that I will be just fine after graduation!Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-72093723089470788412014-09-05T02:23:00.002+01:002014-09-05T02:31:00.364+01:00#TH214 and the First Week (Senior Edition)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hello everyone; welcome back to school and back to Saint Mike's!<br />
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I arrived on campus a week before classes began for interviews and tours. It was so nice to get back into the swing of things with Founders Society and the Office of Admission, which is admittedly my favorite place to hang out on campus! It's crazy to think I hadn't given a tour in eight months, and to be honest I was pretty nervous for the first one. But it went really well, and I'm so glad that I now have this new incredible study abroad experience to share with prospective students (even though I probably go on about it for too long!).<br />
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It was awesome seeing so many familiar faces in Admissions and I immediately felt at home again. I truly loved catching up and attending back-to-back tour guide and blogger training sessions this week made me realize what an amazing group of people I have here for support.<br />
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It's good to be back.<br />
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Not gonna lie, Morocco still creeps into every day conversation and I miss it like crazy. But what's really helped me, besides talking about it with my friends and professors, is just getting back to classes and a routine schedule. I'm a senior(!) this year, which means that I need to put some serious thought into my post-graduation plans and of course, the senior seminar project. To be honest though, after ISJ I feel like I'm ready for anything. BRING IT!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6pkw84c_YB_DKgzQ4xz8KbrjWOtTvsog_uZ5JvmnJjPDHEgXfXKkk18dprvRkfq-Aw9DuAbVrYhuS0KlouWGb3q63_NIROOV3_TZSAuo3NyOh9eWfhuiTZQZbImDtadhhkP_WHpOwCDd/s1600/Snapchat-20140901021014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6pkw84c_YB_DKgzQ4xz8KbrjWOtTvsog_uZ5JvmnJjPDHEgXfXKkk18dprvRkfq-Aw9DuAbVrYhuS0KlouWGb3q63_NIROOV3_TZSAuo3NyOh9eWfhuiTZQZbImDtadhhkP_WHpOwCDd/s1600/Snapchat-20140901021014.jpg" height="240" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To be honest, the workload feels light compared to last semester and the "classroom" vibe was just weird after doing the whole freelance journalist thing. But since this is "syllabus week" it's only going to get more challenging. I'm ready to take it on!</td></tr>
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I'll give you more on the specifics of my class schedule/senior sem stuff later. For now, I want to show off the new digs.<br />
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I'm living in Townhouse 214 with some of the greatest young women the planet has to offer. But really though. My housemates are so incredible I have no words. They're smart, kind, hilarious, unique and beautiful. They inspire me and motivate me to be my best self. I rarely ever want to leave the comforts of my home when they're all there because what else would I want in life?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXdJA3tbXKTDqmOSCnFJAiSrLdqO8ARyWkh8GykA6y1fH2wQHesVILwd2qpe5uo0Eylm_cOBe3Vuc0CjE4gKMJpgXwljoEBvucRnIP5XptRtu30Zlm_7abp-Kn_raRbxL3TT-H8amdj5d/s1600/0904141756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXdJA3tbXKTDqmOSCnFJAiSrLdqO8ARyWkh8GykA6y1fH2wQHesVILwd2qpe5uo0Eylm_cOBe3Vuc0CjE4gKMJpgXwljoEBvucRnIP5XptRtu30Zlm_7abp-Kn_raRbxL3TT-H8amdj5d/s1600/0904141756.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I am with <a href="http://alex-smcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex</a>, Cait and <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Merrill</a> at a tour guide training session. My housemates are the coolest because we're all incredibly different--we're from different states, we have different majors and interests--but we all have a ton of similarities too. We very involved on campus and we're all a part of Founders Society as tour guides and bloggers! (Oh, and we all really love Mexican food...)</td></tr>
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So, not only is #TH214 full of cool people, it's full of cool stuff too. We're all a bit eccentric and have distinct personalities, and that comes out in how we decorate our rooms. But none of us take ourselves too seriously either, so the common spaces turn out the funkiest with little touches from each of us.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqO1wFLeCYyTdDyN0DvP7a7kbGUNiyIphDHNKXYUhvil_mvXOBra-a205ZE2YvZLl8Ln7kGKBOl2-7EL4e2jIy3ciT2RxaUwljZ7ui5n33apvAIOWTIgHvOcOOtJIYdx1tMgrwlJf7wvjN/s1600/TH214+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqO1wFLeCYyTdDyN0DvP7a7kbGUNiyIphDHNKXYUhvil_mvXOBra-a205ZE2YvZLl8Ln7kGKBOl2-7EL4e2jIy3ciT2RxaUwljZ7ui5n33apvAIOWTIgHvOcOOtJIYdx1tMgrwlJf7wvjN/s1600/TH214+001.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We added this sign to our door to encourage visitors to use our hashtag...we're really into personal branding.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYxIXVgGmmDUVzcLsDekm9LSn2cqpL5hvL6TsiNomp9DnhWRDyoGlIvDSFm2lS0ksc-GoQ5bSo8VzVliiEaebQLiF9GmLfXbC4TFXvOSJer3VqRSnllDR-zBCOfkYR4WlYMfF-6WSBY66/s1600/TH214+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgYxIXVgGmmDUVzcLsDekm9LSn2cqpL5hvL6TsiNomp9DnhWRDyoGlIvDSFm2lS0ksc-GoQ5bSo8VzVliiEaebQLiF9GmLfXbC4TFXvOSJer3VqRSnllDR-zBCOfkYR4WlYMfF-6WSBY66/s1600/TH214+013.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found this fish hook at a yard sale in the "free" box last summer. We used it to hang our keys in #103 last year. He had to come with us again for senior year. It's become a landmark!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0DHR-16JfpnmD69TyAfJvxdYC-9pjw_36orU6GUcfFwpWAL7WNno9kYDETXZlgwW6zcqmJaHn2mRDGtpwIL7OYZLD6ZKNPYwttPzvX49RYG4vCq9D-bE69ZKzYlus7wl2zihx1wU6RGY/s1600/TH214+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo0DHR-16JfpnmD69TyAfJvxdYC-9pjw_36orU6GUcfFwpWAL7WNno9kYDETXZlgwW6zcqmJaHn2mRDGtpwIL7OYZLD6ZKNPYwttPzvX49RYG4vCq9D-bE69ZKzYlus7wl2zihx1wU6RGY/s1600/TH214+002.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entryway with our new tapestry. There's a HUGE coat/shoe closet behind there!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNS2NoBdfTP16ZlpLmFbgGCtpFP2AXfFmU7X1iFoNkE3inWJUF4g6_AJ5ISrMsi6yAbBUco-YkHocFFi8BA5i2pybexTN1IsLGb4XQHYPGzmR6g1nTmKg2_3YYHFAdbH5jageC0vc0RdRe/s1600/TH214+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNS2NoBdfTP16ZlpLmFbgGCtpFP2AXfFmU7X1iFoNkE3inWJUF4g6_AJ5ISrMsi6yAbBUco-YkHocFFi8BA5i2pybexTN1IsLGb4XQHYPGzmR6g1nTmKg2_3YYHFAdbH5jageC0vc0RdRe/s1600/TH214+005.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's very spacious downstairs!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The kitchen table is already being reclaimed as our study space. But we do have family meals together!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We got stools for a nice breakfast bar.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6vyTTbKhTq2MyOW9S7PTk7dg3DYyUHlmmz0phN_c365aubfCHo99gV6hmeM198Lp4KL5s1RBvPfSomkWR39dKLUkZvKL5yN2BCSpjN2Q4mkZfwnlpnWil7KpfzNdyKNEt5oaK0UTl_xR/s1600/TH214+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr6vyTTbKhTq2MyOW9S7PTk7dg3DYyUHlmmz0phN_c365aubfCHo99gV6hmeM198Lp4KL5s1RBvPfSomkWR39dKLUkZvKL5yN2BCSpjN2Q4mkZfwnlpnWil7KpfzNdyKNEt5oaK0UTl_xR/s1600/TH214+010.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Al always shares her vegetables <3</td></tr>
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Of course, you can tell which room is mine, always characterized by bright colors in the form of tie-dye and WAY too many pictures on the walls (but how does one choose?).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZgyCsPIYpDkHfi-T9OjP57TzN-lAU7vaRvBAytHXAXhxnoMdU_U5QzL8wAvptEGl4rI6sgd0GToMg-jxjZldNEq7nVVPs_MpNYbcjvvyLLN628k9qjwhugo7xWSk0mhvDZdgk55K5yhL/s1600/TH214+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZgyCsPIYpDkHfi-T9OjP57TzN-lAU7vaRvBAytHXAXhxnoMdU_U5QzL8wAvptEGl4rI6sgd0GToMg-jxjZldNEq7nVVPs_MpNYbcjvvyLLN628k9qjwhugo7xWSk0mhvDZdgk55K5yhL/s1600/TH214+019.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love my room!</td></tr>
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It's really starting to feel like home! Then again, with these chicas it always will. :)Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-32910865240912241542014-07-13T20:14:00.001+00:002014-07-13T20:26:46.879+00:00The Pre-Return JittersHello, friends. You're witnessing a makeover.<br />
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As you can see, "My Mosaic" has returned to "Lauren Likes Saint Mike's". The background has returned to a school-spirited theme, albeit more subdued with a simple Purple Knights color-scheme rather than anything obnoxiously designed (I hope). I have returned to America. And very soon, I will return to Vermont.<br />
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I have to admit, parting with "My Mosaic" is one of the more difficult things I've done this summer. Hence the header photo of the kasbah in Ouerzazate. I decided that can stay just a little bit longer.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZ1-tg3XE-_ZvHocPw7QRZ0Kq-D5MBaBXf5v_Xd4qOrR3yqwYJQANhoSKZ54uM8yaLVaCmyhllJOr_w88qrUi3rJOvKJ9gOiqnHPe2HYXIy682e1hWKBq3tvmLHw1tDT99MKeN53HObmN/s1600/excursion1+265.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZ1-tg3XE-_ZvHocPw7QRZ0Kq-D5MBaBXf5v_Xd4qOrR3yqwYJQANhoSKZ54uM8yaLVaCmyhllJOr_w88qrUi3rJOvKJ9gOiqnHPe2HYXIy682e1hWKBq3tvmLHw1tDT99MKeN53HObmN/s1600/excursion1+265.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Life is a mosaic. I'm not in Morocco anymore, but don't worry, I'm still working on mine.</td></tr>
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The truth is, a part of me will always be in Morocco, and a part of Morocco is always in me (they don't call them cliches for nothing). I get so frustrated when I can feel so much of it slipping away the longer I am home. The general themes of what I learned stay, but minor details--the things that really made the whole experience special, made it <i>mine</i>--change or fade away altogether. I very badly want to go back. In my worst moments, I sometimes wish I never came home.<br />
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But I know that Morocco would have never been possible if it hadn't been for Saint Mike's. If I never went to college I never would have studied abroad; perhaps I never would have traveled at all. If I had gone to a college other than Saint Mike's, I would be on a completely different path. Maybe I would've gone somewhere else, maybe I would've stayed at my school all four years (a very distinct possibility, since many colleges don't transfer financial aid to students studying abroad--something I was very shocked to hear from my friends at other schools who I met in Morocco. Luckily, they found other ways to afford it). Would I be happy? Probably. I am naturally a pretty happy person, after all. But I'd just be different.<br />
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Despite my heartsickness for the people, sights, places, food, smells, and everything else I fell in love with in Morocco, I have a lot to look forward to. In just over a month, I will be back on campus for senior year. I will be working hard on my senior seminar project with <a href="http://sbogan7.wix.com/imjustsheila" target="_blank">Sheila</a> and at whatever<a href="http://www.smcvt.edu/Experience/Careers-and-Internships.aspx" target="_blank"> internship I end up with through my experiential learning course</a> with Professor Cleary. I will be enjoying the company of <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2013/12/my-smc-family.html" target="_blank">friends who I consider family</a>, most of whom I have not seen in over seven months (wow--it's about time). More importantly, I will be welcomed into a place that's ready to accept who I am now, with all of my new experiences and everything that has changed me while I was off venturing through the "real world". Almost all of my friends went abroad at the same time I did, meaning they know what it's like to make the rough transition back into normal life. Those who didn't have already endured long hours of "Why Morocco is the Best Place Ever" rants over the phone or Skype, and will most likely hear hours more when I see them in person (really, guys, thanks for being willing to do that). The Study Abroad office, creative writing folks, Office of Admission, and plenty of other groups on campus will welcome me with open arms and ears, asking me to speak as much (or as little) as I want about this past semester. I couldn't ask for a better place to go after something so profoundly influential happens in my life. I left Morocco and had some time at home, and now I'm ready to go <i>home</i>, if you know what I mean.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2eg6rD0_MWsf4wMeZHhO8gYh6Nw9j6O2MsNBFwkHabz1cSmbguajB5OFnMVYjqu3BwyrgdKOjkGF9b_zEqEe3oqbDBpQaDLnoWm43xL_jX61cCtPGO_JL1Xk5QVbVWuc3uUuyFa6KoyA/s1600/548333_10150715804261859_567746858_9250454_923272372_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix2eg6rD0_MWsf4wMeZHhO8gYh6Nw9j6O2MsNBFwkHabz1cSmbguajB5OFnMVYjqu3BwyrgdKOjkGF9b_zEqEe3oqbDBpQaDLnoWm43xL_jX61cCtPGO_JL1Xk5QVbVWuc3uUuyFa6KoyA/s1600/548333_10150715804261859_567746858_9250454_923272372_n.jpg" height="295" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are worse places I could return to.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worse people, too. God I miss these guys. (Yes, I did intentionally choose the most unflattering photo of us all that I could find...you're welcome.)</td></tr>
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Even though this year is going to be crazy and go by in a flash, I'm excited to return. It's actually weirding me out a little that I haven't been to Vermont in so long. It'll be another bittersweet transition when it's over, since I'll be graduating in May and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. But we won't think about that just yet.<br />
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Anyway, my summer has been broken up in to a bunch of strange little segments. They've been great-- after a month of being home, I <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2013/06/move-trip-2013-crst-reservation-south.html" target="_blank">returned to South Dakota</a> to visit old friends in La Plant for three weeks, working with <a href="http://simplysmiles.org/" target="_blank">Simply Smiles</a> again and keeping that Saint Mike's connection going (another opportunity I would not have had without SMC). Then I went to California for a week to visit a friend I made in Morocco and plan to keep for life. I returned back home to New York last week, where I started up a great internship at <a href="http://www.markandphil.com/" target="_blank">Mark & Phil</a>, a local non-profit that does marketing and web design for other non-profits. It's awesome to be home and learning in a new environment, but much of this summer segment feels a lot like waiting. I'm now in the home-stretch, so all I can think about is getting back to school and everything that has become so familiar to me over the past few years.<br />
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I'm being pulled in so many directions now. If you attached little strings to me and then placed the other ends on the people and places that have influenced who I am--South Dakota, California, New York, Vermont, Morocco, Ceuta, Connecticut, Massachusetts, Canada, and on and on--you'd have me bursting at the seams, ready to spill the stories of thousands, and also you'd have no string left. (Sorry, that ended up being a lot less deep than I thought it would be.) I want to explore and keep moving forward and find even more stories to collect, but I also want to return to all of the places that started my momentum in the first place. It's like I expected myself to do a marathon, but instead I'm on track for a relay.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDd8lKjURTZiNc6cxc53KdHWzqiTW2afmkP7qNz0RbYlJREgozeg9Ifn-OLnqcakV3d3RN8Qg4ACygmrqadK_Ccgi6vyPsLUaG6EN1b1EYDQNyVVQxYXPUGIjhiVQaqTwpb4dtPlC7wUoO/s1600/1625701_10151931372414149_1985706924_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDd8lKjURTZiNc6cxc53KdHWzqiTW2afmkP7qNz0RbYlJREgozeg9Ifn-OLnqcakV3d3RN8Qg4ACygmrqadK_Ccgi6vyPsLUaG6EN1b1EYDQNyVVQxYXPUGIjhiVQaqTwpb4dtPlC7wUoO/s1600/1625701_10151931372414149_1985706924_n.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who knows where I'm going next?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKKe0XPQlAtjPLX6iXL2h3tGmfvYc7bCmUldigL_57EOsudHMs0opih4ROqQTM-Z5fZ8FMQFwF8EonX5ytFqzvygaFNMl0UdTHgy3SwQsbTpSWkzKeSg79BFIL-ksVXAobAccX05tUABmI/s1600/1052610_10202394342997116_609122489_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKKe0XPQlAtjPLX6iXL2h3tGmfvYc7bCmUldigL_57EOsudHMs0opih4ROqQTM-Z5fZ8FMQFwF8EonX5ytFqzvygaFNMl0UdTHgy3SwQsbTpSWkzKeSg79BFIL-ksVXAobAccX05tUABmI/s1600/1052610_10202394342997116_609122489_o.jpg" height="280" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't know then, don't know now.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRsiWX50GbpY92TLVp6hVuLdfMJT3Anom6v5eEuvrKa9IHm_3OALMAz_kEG5u7oP4_bF1ltkozsMC1KgNQ-1Fws8ifrOV5oZEpX7mWPIbVfjeOsj38XdiJtwWpUKYUUHzO2HUhvfZ1p7V/s1600/1970753_10153974733795051_1774102709_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSRsiWX50GbpY92TLVp6hVuLdfMJT3Anom6v5eEuvrKa9IHm_3OALMAz_kEG5u7oP4_bF1ltkozsMC1KgNQ-1Fws8ifrOV5oZEpX7mWPIbVfjeOsj38XdiJtwWpUKYUUHzO2HUhvfZ1p7V/s1600/1970753_10153974733795051_1774102709_n.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But it'll be fun trying to figure it out! (I'm making excuses to post Morocco pictures, I am fully aware of that.)</td></tr>
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<br />
I want to go, I want to stay, I want to turn around, I want to rise up, I want to take a nap. I'm happy, but I'm confused. I'm not quite content with where I am right now, but I think that's a good thing--that means there's still something driving me to keep going and learning and loving and being and doing.<br />
<br />
I think a lot of this has to with not just a longing for the past, but for the future. My immediate future is set (as soon as I pay that tuition bill that came in yesterday). But the finish line is in sight, and after that there is so much uncertainty. Sometimes it freaks me out. And sometimes, on days like today, it excites me. It's the first time in my life where I will have to choice to do anything, go anywhere. I could return to Morocco, or South Dakota, or California. I could look for a job in New York City, or stay in Vermont for a while. I could backpack Europe or South America. I could couch-surf America. Or I could (and let's face it, I probably will for a few months at least) hang out on my own couch in good ol' Poughkeepsie, just as I am now.<br />
<br />
Time moves in a circle. Seasons change, people change. But I always figure out a way to return home.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYr5s1nzZLKZG3MaUu2xNwsJeCa_o-ugK44SUa5sKujK0d7XBoX3IaZ_I76fwDMO8Ij7ikdphyfyJGKpC0gsc5-a2LMopjkVUMeWFkrg-9u95ACn3U3vKOcECK6CDAF-0CuNXBT_FRQLy8/s1600/247717_567154689973820_1182659433_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYr5s1nzZLKZG3MaUu2xNwsJeCa_o-ugK44SUa5sKujK0d7XBoX3IaZ_I76fwDMO8Ij7ikdphyfyJGKpC0gsc5-a2LMopjkVUMeWFkrg-9u95ACn3U3vKOcECK6CDAF-0CuNXBT_FRQLy8/s1600/247717_567154689973820_1182659433_n.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"So no one told ya life was gonna be this waaay..."</td></tr>
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Here's to one more year at Saint Mike's!<br />
<br />
Cheers,<br />
<br />
LaurenLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-30699086427116436952014-05-07T23:05:00.000+01:002014-05-07T23:05:47.321+01:00"What do I do with my hands?"During our ISJ period, my friend Fatima and I constantly had this saying. Whenever something awkward would occur, or we were just fed up with a situation and didn't know where to turn, we'd make a joke out of it by looking at each other and saying, "What do I do with my hands?"<br />
<br />
Well, now ISJ is completely over. Rachel and I gave our presentation today, to many tearful reactions as well as plenty of heartfelt comments about our progress. And you can bet I was asking myself this question as soon as I sat back down in my seat. The work is done, my schedule is suddenly wide open, and I only have two days left in Morocco: what do I do with my hands?<br />
<br />
My friend just informed me a little while ago that I can now consider myself a college senior. Right. So everything is really hitting me right now.<br />
<br />
Today was just very heavily emotional. After a long night of very little sleep, I was up and going at 8:30 to get to school for our program evaluations and then the first round of presentations (the rest of our group will present on Friday, our last day here). It was nice to spend the day with the whole group, but seeing a number of people cry today was draining. Not only were we discussing really heavy subject matter, but we were all experiencing mixed feelings about the semester ending and having to go back home.<br />
<br />
This week marks the end of something incredible. During this four-month stretch of time, I've grown more as a person than I have in my whole life. This past month I stopped referring to myself as a student and instead as a journalist. It's kind of like the first time someone describes you as a woman, rather than a girl. Like trying on shoes that are shwiya (a little) too big but you start walking in them anyway, and soon enough you forget they were big.<br />
<br />
The truth is, this isn't over. This week marks the official end of ISJ and the program, but my classmates will agree with me when I say that we have all had bigger goals in mind from the outset. We're all going to continue working on edits and stay in touch with our advisors to get their advice about pitching our stories to media outlets. We're not stopping until we're published--with the work that we've put into these projects, it would be silly to stop now.<br />
<br />
And as heartbroken as I am to be leaving this amazing country and the beautiful people I've met, I know it's time to take what I've learned here and go back to my "normal" life in America and apply it. I'm going to work hard to improve every facet of my life that I'm even remotely dissatisfied with. I've "done Morocco right," as another one of our sayings here goes, and it's given me the confidence to go after the things I want and to take more chances. Ultimately, even if I fail, my experiences are more rewarding.<br />
<br />
Besides, something is telling me that Morocco hasn't seen the last of me. Someday, inshallah, I will come back. Just as Vermont became a second home for me 3(!) years ago, Morocco has become a third. I am forever grateful for that.<br />
<br />
I'm having a really hard time formulating words about what this experience has meant to me. I find that the thing I fear the most about going home is constantly floundering to find the answer to "how was it?" I don't think I will ever be able to describe it in a way for others to understand. I won't be able to understand my friends' experiences, even though I will be able to relate to the frustration of describing them. So I ask all of my dear friends at home, please be patient with me. I know everyone will be excited to see me and hear about it, and I'm so excited to see you all too. But I am also incredibly overwhelmed, and unless you want to sit with me for hours so that I can adequately describe, "How was it?" then all you're probably going to get as a response is "Good." But with time, you'll hear plenty of anecdotes. Those little stories will come together to give you an idea of Morocco, or rather, my time in Morocco. This is My Mosaic.<br />
<br />
I highly encourage you, if you ever get the chance, to make your own.<br />
<br />
Besslama,<br />
<br />
Lauren<br />
<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-87431955929277557112014-04-19T21:18:00.000+01:002014-04-19T21:18:10.399+01:00Birta, ISJ, and So Many FeelsHello friends, I'm sorry that this update is so long overdue.<br />
<br />
As you can imagine, so much has happened since I last made a post here. In fact, going back and looking at my old posts seems quite surreal, as Morocco is so different for me now. Since moving out of my host family's house, I've been having a completely different experience. It's not better or worse, just different, and I feel like I was another person writing those old posts.<br />
<br />
But I don't want to get ahead of myself. I left off in my last post saying that I was getting ready to leave for my village stay, so I'll start there.<br />
<br />
A long time ago, there once was an old woman who gave birth to seven children at once. Unfortunately, the babies were not in good health. All seven of them died soon after they were born. Their mother, overcome with grief, held seven burials, with each baby buried in a different place. This is how Sbaa Rouadi ("Seven Cemeteries") began.<br />
<br />
I know it's not the happiest of myths, but hey, that's how it apparently got its name. Anyway, the Sbaa Rouadi commune (located in a rural area just outside of Fez) consists of seven villages. One of them is Birta, where my MOJ classmates and I stayed for a week way back in March (how time flies!).<br />
<br />
So Birta is part of this commune--a commune is a territorial public with its own legal personality and financial autonomy. Basically, the residents of Birta rely on themselves to sustain their livelihood. Everything is shared among the village, and every person pitches in somehow. Pretty cool, right?<br />
<br />
We were welcomed into this small village immediately. All of our host families put us to work in the fields, the kitchens, and the school center, and had us tending to animals. You can't get a more immersive experience than this!<br />
<br />
(The center, by the way, is called the Association of Development and Solidarity, and was founded by 5 village women in 2008. The main founder, Sebah, had realized the lack of public spaces for women in this traditional village, and she wanted to create a comfortable place where women could develop their own self-sustaining practices and skills. Basically, she's a hero and a role model to women everywhere.)<br />
<br />
My fellow classmate, Susan, and I spent the week living with an AMAZING host family. We had five sisters. Three of them--Faiza, Amina, and Sumia--are around our age, and then we had two adorable little sisters, 9-year-old Wiam and 5-year-old Zenib. Our father, Abderrahim (who we called Baba), is a sweet and soft-spoken man with a smile as big as his heart. Mama Khadija has a beautiful smile and a comforting sense of tranquility about her that made me happy just to be in her presence.<br />
<br />
I can't even begin to describe how amazing this week was, and how much it changed my life. Although we could hardly communicate with each other through words, I felt immediately accepted as a member of the family. Whether it was playing jump-rope with Wiam and the village kids, herding sheep (which I actually became quite good at!), cooking in the kitchen or weeding out the fields, I felt as though my contribution mattered and more importantly, I felt loved. Both Amina and Mama Khadija cried the day we left, and Sumia walked us to the end of the road and gave us huge hugs before we met with our group. I so badly wanted to go back and visit them again during ISJ. Then again, there were a lot of things I wanted to do and thought I'd have the time for during ISJ...(we'll get to that in a moment.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bI1Zhqgr1Avp-JYpqoRofduJcYdnY4kv5zn1mP9etbwGNAL0gdz6ngRM5HPio1NE2k-Yw9H-NB-TrJ6Z7jZs4d1ZZ2mbeqI6mAlIr7AGvRCxVG4TlQGdTDTAjDdXfmIbfgySUMnniwzk/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9bI1Zhqgr1Avp-JYpqoRofduJcYdnY4kv5zn1mP9etbwGNAL0gdz6ngRM5HPio1NE2k-Yw9H-NB-TrJ6Z7jZs4d1ZZ2mbeqI6mAlIr7AGvRCxVG4TlQGdTDTAjDdXfmIbfgySUMnniwzk/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+186.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wiam loves to sing and dance, and is overall a beautiful soul. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-VswkMtMc60URnCcUxk8Fi0Mf4kzoQTlm2ImpKTVoMOoJE2T-uXD9vARk4pqw_07LOGuYLZ6WqB99EJLiUkMFUU6Ek237cPa_5FjS8ff5w4OkabQJWFoqTLGqXQmbk6COR-YVABllaA8a/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-VswkMtMc60URnCcUxk8Fi0Mf4kzoQTlm2ImpKTVoMOoJE2T-uXD9vARk4pqw_07LOGuYLZ6WqB99EJLiUkMFUU6Ek237cPa_5FjS8ff5w4OkabQJWFoqTLGqXQmbk6COR-YVABllaA8a/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+238.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think we spoiled Zenib a bit--she constantly wanted to be carried everywhere, but I didn't mind. How could anyone resist that face?!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amina and Susan in the back of our mule cart (the "car") on our way to the fields.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdjgiGfgs5NV5wQs9X4rBohsFhnpCS_qk0TdH2MZMTDcBJOWJQu_RhD7yzG9mubhaMpzN7PysBOlVC59YDi8H4RHLpRch3s8e5lRkMXSKiMPUuPis6FlpiLyWPvKh-o7RtBGi-Kq3CwAs/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+278.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdjgiGfgs5NV5wQs9X4rBohsFhnpCS_qk0TdH2MZMTDcBJOWJQu_RhD7yzG9mubhaMpzN7PysBOlVC59YDi8H4RHLpRch3s8e5lRkMXSKiMPUuPis6FlpiLyWPvKh-o7RtBGi-Kq3CwAs/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+278.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baba has a great smile, but he was a bit shy here. One of our funniest moments was when I told him (in VERY broken Arabic) that the olive oil in Birta tastes much better than the stuff we have in the US, after he was noticing how much of it I ate. He thought it was hilarious and repeated the story to everyone else when they came to sit at the table, and we all had a good laugh. The next morning at breakfast, they gave me my own plate of olive oil!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsTJYZMQefJg4gQxHfCy9P8IiIWZlCggHyls2aymxrp9tO3jRP9aP3r0F5y8zzyXieAs7dB5HfpL7DfhiqiHNtgKhlakHv4SDG-lvFCiufCjU1yYYnFgKp5gPN5nERs9myBk00DAI2Blg/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+285.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAsTJYZMQefJg4gQxHfCy9P8IiIWZlCggHyls2aymxrp9tO3jRP9aP3r0F5y8zzyXieAs7dB5HfpL7DfhiqiHNtgKhlakHv4SDG-lvFCiufCjU1yYYnFgKp5gPN5nERs9myBk00DAI2Blg/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+285.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our family taught us a game that's sort of a harder (but more fun) version of tic-tac-toe. We stayed up late every night playing because we got completely addicted. Baba loved it whenever we won--definitely not a sore loser!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAkMGYrMQIdL2BU9m-sZcay6RFr57zUQ5vy5AzqpFqcRsgF78RDVuSBgOHNcDmu95r6RCxkp2gC3oZp4qOo7ffWraGhv_YGUwmCPy_7Q1ZGSMgvBMHsBUy8_K9t2ZOVz8EjISqAa7pYGn/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPAkMGYrMQIdL2BU9m-sZcay6RFr57zUQ5vy5AzqpFqcRsgF78RDVuSBgOHNcDmu95r6RCxkp2gC3oZp4qOo7ffWraGhv_YGUwmCPy_7Q1ZGSMgvBMHsBUy8_K9t2ZOVz8EjISqAa7pYGn/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+101.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my favorite neighborhood kids, Simohammed. He followed us everywhere! Some of his favorite shenanigans involved jumping onto the back of our mule cart, tree-climbing, calling out to me in animal noises, and playing with my camera (thanks for all of the blurry photos of the ground, Simo...).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdUWBsqkxLCwWHDT2dxXBgLmk8zTGyOIggw-n3dSMkzgktfNyrxngG1ik1GBQ6_rcPTXIK_0lhJUPZsf3NK7D5BN9B5yiDwdrN5vxcoIyK8hOFiqd7EaD1FoZdKNVpn9KNL6DfFdvdkB7p/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdUWBsqkxLCwWHDT2dxXBgLmk8zTGyOIggw-n3dSMkzgktfNyrxngG1ik1GBQ6_rcPTXIK_0lhJUPZsf3NK7D5BN9B5yiDwdrN5vxcoIyK8hOFiqd7EaD1FoZdKNVpn9KNL6DfFdvdkB7p/s1600/morocco_casa_birta+297.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I met Houda on my first day in the village and instantly fell in love with that smiling face. I spent some time playing with her and taking pictures, but I didn't want to be out for too long on my first day with my host family so I left shortly after. A few days later I saw her on the playground and she came running straight toward me and gave me a big hug and kissed my face. She was attached to me for the rest of the day!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amina (L) and Sumia received their certificates from the center the week we were there. They are both embroidery professionals and their work is incredible! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From left: Myself, Faiza, Sumia, Susan, Mama Khadija and Wiam in front. This was after a long round of picture-taking...we gave up on trying to get Zenib to sit still!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sumia was the one to pick us up on our first day and drop us off on our last day. My Birta village sisters are beautiful and incredible young women, and I will never forget them!</td></tr>
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So that was Birta, although I could go on forever. Anyway, after we got back we had a few more weeks of school and living with our host families. We also had the Northern Excursion, which was just an overnight trip to Ceuta, a Spanish enclave, pretty much only because we needed to get our passports stamped again so that they wouldn't expire for the rest of our time here. It was a great mini-vacation, and I was glad to be able to dip my toes in the Mediterranean--definitely the most beautiful water I've ever seen. Ceuta was gorgeous, and everyone is pretty mad at me for forgetting my camera on that trip, but it was pretty freeing to just take everything in without being bogged down. I guess that means y'all have to come with me next time! ;)<br />
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Shortly after that excursion, it was time to pack our bags and say goodbye to our host families. It was time for the final stretch: ISJ. It stands for Independent Study in Journalism, and it's what this whole semester has been leading up to and preparing us for. During ISJ period, we have 5 weeks to pursue a story of our choice, traveling anywhere our research leads. I'm working with my classmate and good friend Rachel on a story about illegitimate children. She's a photojournalist and I'm writing, and we've been spending the past few weeks going back and forth between Rabat and Casablanca gathering information from NGOs and trying to find a single mother with undocumented children who would be willing to speak with us and let us spend time with her and her kids to take photos. As it's a very taboo subject here, it's taken a lot to find women to open up, and we've run into countless roadblocks along the way. However, Rachel and I are very stubborn people, and although we've thought about giving up in search of another story, we found that we were far too committed to this already. Things began looking up a bit yesterday, so here's to hoping our instincts were right and our hard work doesn't go to waste!<br />
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Even though ISJ has been super frustrating, a incredibly heavy and emotional at times due to the content of our strory, it's been an amazing experience so far. Since we don't have school during ISJ, we're really living the life of freelance journalists. It's not a school assignment, it's the real world, and the potential this project has for publication is not only a stressor but a motivator as well.<br />
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I've also never felt more like an adult or more independent in my life. It's pretty cool that the first apartment I've ever rented is in Rabat. I'm living on my own (well, with roommates, but you know) in AFRICA. If I can do it here, I can do it anywhere! It's a little weird living outside of the medina, but it's nice to get to know a new area of Rabat (it's easy to forget how huge it is when you live in the medina, which really isn't that big). I also miss my host family, but since I'm still living in the same city (I'm not a Casablanca fan and it's easy enough to commute) I can still visit them when I'm free. I went home for lunch yesterday and they were so happy to see me--it was a wonderful reunion!<br />
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Of course there have been slip-ups, but I'm alive and well and learning every single day. I'm pretty proud of how far Rachel and I have gotten with our project, and that I've been able to handle budgeting my stipend and balancing work with fun (even though sometimes it feels like too much work--I just realized I've spent most of my Saturday in front of a computer...what are weekends?).<br />
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Sometimes I wonder where I'd be if I had chosen to go to South Africa or London, the other top options I was looking into for studying abroad. I can't really imagine it. In moments when I'm incredibly stressed out or wishing that I could just go to Spain (my program doesn't allow us to leave the country while we're in session) I often think of my friends who have a lot of time off and are able to travel and experience other places and I get a bit jealous. But then I think of the type of experience I'm getting here, and I realize I can't really compare. This is a journalism experience first, and a study abroad experience second. And I'm honestly so grateful for that. Even if I don't end up as a journalist one day, it's something I can check off my list of Cool Things I've Done (along with dance atop a camel in the middle of the Merzouga desert).<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZljsJTJ-CJE1OLhZdOlN0VYVbkKLgpfFW-1SvDG98Cg8LTRh7EdHroAFF6-2W0O_71L5hQ5iMimGqs_NtJfJscb_VKpaLTKXAqVeO-ovnygqoixKm61xGs2Y8zEnz7qhZd8OX1bqDCBV/s1600/1901912_721778097844811_8990223790981265408_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZljsJTJ-CJE1OLhZdOlN0VYVbkKLgpfFW-1SvDG98Cg8LTRh7EdHroAFF6-2W0O_71L5hQ5iMimGqs_NtJfJscb_VKpaLTKXAqVeO-ovnygqoixKm61xGs2Y8zEnz7qhZd8OX1bqDCBV/s1600/1901912_721778097844811_8990223790981265408_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that actually was a thing that happened. Photo by Elise Campbell.</td></tr>
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A week or two ago, I was walking through the medina with my host brother when we ran into a group of American students he had met earlier that month, because his cousins were hosting them. They were also SIT students, but they were in a program that had started them in Vietnam and brought them to several other countries before ending somewhere in South America, I think Bolivia. They only had a few weeks in Morocco, and they were really excited to meet me and hear some of my stories. They said that even though they were glad they got to see so many different places, they were pretty sad that they didn't get to "know" any one place in particular very well. My conversation with them once more made me grateful, and I realized I definitely chose the right program for me. Thinking back over these past few months, I can't even imagine going somewhere and not getting to know my host family (families, after Birta!) the way that I did, or not having the time to befriend the locals. From the people I hang out with on a regular basis who consider me one of their best friends to the man at my favorite snack shop in the medina who gets excited for me whenever I use a new word in Arabic, I feel that I've made deep connections here. I've found a second home in Morocco and I couldn't be any happier.<br />
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Which means I've also gotten very attached to this place and these people, and I'm dreading the day I have to leave them. Today while Rachel and I were furiously typing emails and trying to figure out our next steps, I was complaining about the stress (forgive me, I hadn't had any coffee yet). She simply looked at me and said, "we're going to miss this in three weeks." I felt like something hit me then. What am I going to do when I have to say goodbye?<br />
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The only thing I can do for now is enjoy the time I have left. I've made some amazing memories and I have three more weeks to make as many more of them as possible. And, hopefully ("inshallah," as we say here), it's not really goodbye, but more of a 'til next time kind of thing.<br />
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I'm off to go binge on snacks from my favorite non-medina snack man and make a game plan for tomorrow's journalism shenanigans. Happy Easter to those who celebrate it. To my family--Christos Vos Kres! As much as I love the food here, you can bet I'll be missing the paska and the nutbread tomorrow.<br />
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Shine on,<br />
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LaurenLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-56184214521591953072014-03-04T19:06:00.002+00:002014-03-04T19:06:24.493+00:00Excursion #1 Sorry to keep you all waiting on this one--I know I talked up the excursion so much that I left you quivering in anticipation (...right? no?).<br />
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It's incredibly difficult to sum up this one week in a single post, just as it's becoming increasingly frustrating to try to explain the entire experience I'm having here to people who aren't with me (is it strange that the one thing I'm worried about going home is that I'm going to have to talk about it?).<br />
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Anyway, I don't have the time to write you a novel and you don't have the time to read one, so just know that this excursion was by far the craziest week of my life. It's absolutely surreal to leave a rainy, chilly city one day and be in the middle of a green forest the next--and then to drive through snow-capped mountains, only to end up in the desert a day later. It was equally exhausting and rejuvenating, as inspiring as it was defeating at times. I think every single person on the trip experienced every human emotion at some point, and due to our limited time in each city, we went from long rides to immediately get off the bus and see as much as you can. Which inevitably wares you out. Even still, I had the best time and I'm so grateful to have seen more of Morocco.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first stop was Fez. Here's the whole MOJ crew in front of the royal palace.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The walled-in area is the medina, the oldest part of the city. Fez's medina is massive--and I thought Rabat's was complicated!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The narrowest streets in Morocco can be found in the Fez medina.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous age-old tanneries where leather is dyed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The madrasa (Islamic school) in Fez with incredible ancient architecture.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our guide informed us that the niche in the wall is very important, as it indicates the direction of Mecca so that students knew where to turn for prayer.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We visited a weaver--the fabrics and colors were gorgeous!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped in the cedar forest on our way to Azrou. It reminded me of Vermont a little!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our land rovers raced on the way to our destination in the Merzouga Desert.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">WE RODE CAMELS.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRoUW60HtudOCLuJjXxRNsXbUVGiILM-1OU6Dabx1WGgVek6pTOJ1_qJyc40G3Avj24OhvXbPWq-0HsdXQKLCAtwqmsEMEL8t9zN3FYww5H3wAv3D0pHo7NFT-doCS9GaYSQQ2VjUP0Fb0/s1600/excursion1+160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRoUW60HtudOCLuJjXxRNsXbUVGiILM-1OU6Dabx1WGgVek6pTOJ1_qJyc40G3Avj24OhvXbPWq-0HsdXQKLCAtwqmsEMEL8t9zN3FYww5H3wAv3D0pHo7NFT-doCS9GaYSQQ2VjUP0Fb0/s1600/excursion1+160.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I named mine "Habibati" (the female form of "my darling/my love" in Arabic. I think it was a she...)</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzT64nDBruhQmR_O97VEpzeSIGBro99AzWDSdbWGvndtmiPTxhhXZm3Gu8_ceojIUc2To3-k09nNXThTk8OgRkZUVNGiV3iCkJNOMXTseTU8TgJXVADFO4ASsfy75-GLP4vkC7lH-IOxh/s1600/excursion1+178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMzT64nDBruhQmR_O97VEpzeSIGBro99AzWDSdbWGvndtmiPTxhhXZm3Gu8_ceojIUc2To3-k09nNXThTk8OgRkZUVNGiV3iCkJNOMXTseTU8TgJXVADFO4ASsfy75-GLP4vkC7lH-IOxh/s1600/excursion1+178.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PS I bought this awesome coat from a guy named Youssef before I left Rabat. I told him I was going to the desert and he was glad I was buying one since it gets so cold at night. He told me to bring back pictures so I did and now we're good friends!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took turns rolling down the dunes...looks like Badrdine didn't want to get back up!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8FAgY_PSuzAr1NCHGziNiRfdUuzvZPq2rDReVrmUumoWI2DDaxcmMvMPggnyj1KmEg2wGFKW4T68lXKGCloKVOj19XYjDvXUyvE8yLNe9ykMjspGqU8CTDLGOHJRlzH47NqsVlLN1K-W/s1600/excursion1+212.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip8FAgY_PSuzAr1NCHGziNiRfdUuzvZPq2rDReVrmUumoWI2DDaxcmMvMPggnyj1KmEg2wGFKW4T68lXKGCloKVOj19XYjDvXUyvE8yLNe9ykMjspGqU8CTDLGOHJRlzH47NqsVlLN1K-W/s1600/excursion1+212.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our campsite in Merzouga</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rU6Wrj66huSFR2nqrsEJww-0SXCz9spSd2RtgGXB5acqkxoChMq4M40Ggf11AH5uy5gsFKdBYNonakOkUb33sa-mpEUT-mfSST_DGH1NMkMBbfoFSmh0rqzSx4a_WiB66pZo9J1TL3pU/s1600/excursion1+221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8rU6Wrj66huSFR2nqrsEJww-0SXCz9spSd2RtgGXB5acqkxoChMq4M40Ggf11AH5uy5gsFKdBYNonakOkUb33sa-mpEUT-mfSST_DGH1NMkMBbfoFSmh0rqzSx4a_WiB66pZo9J1TL3pU/s1600/excursion1+221.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Todgha gorge outside of Tinghir. It was GORGE-ous!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkC9SLjXTYbAHjKCRsInkOIK8sty7aKAJmYxflwrw1LN-Qu-BHymGxQnLYkiehDdowsPHROme1H467CHg-10p3lHqg861XkRI3OqhSr7aWhNV0zbvh_2Rqd7Q3p8VkeG2JUnhsYKZW1WA/s1600/excursion1+237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkC9SLjXTYbAHjKCRsInkOIK8sty7aKAJmYxflwrw1LN-Qu-BHymGxQnLYkiehDdowsPHROme1H467CHg-10p3lHqg861XkRI3OqhSr7aWhNV0zbvh_2Rqd7Q3p8VkeG2JUnhsYKZW1WA/s1600/excursion1+237.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course, the food was awesome too. This is one of many forms of chicken tagine.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMw1EZv9MRLOsk9WCUMJ5oe9iZ7c24pC1GubbQdrf6WZA4Nxq-LlVfJljWZX4afC8MJYdcU48SHPcFRAgJPcnNayNP1mLb2Rl8Xq27kyePfGGVAAC0HtpZW_yvql48o03Fh_9FfwV9Rld/s1600/excursion1+246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNMw1EZv9MRLOsk9WCUMJ5oe9iZ7c24pC1GubbQdrf6WZA4Nxq-LlVfJljWZX4afC8MJYdcU48SHPcFRAgJPcnNayNP1mLb2Rl8Xq27kyePfGGVAAC0HtpZW_yvql48o03Fh_9FfwV9Rld/s1600/excursion1+246.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Glaoui Kasbah in Ouerzazate</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7liJCa7bbKa24MDeXcKDPuvZcPgEh9f4nxp_xtW1thcobfKBSuUnjL0zLoW_MdRIxihzKvVOG_h7olmf3TwvcUbIDrNjrpTyMY4rep-VVielet9WKtCbtie8cNuHfRJn3o4bSSPdF0KKG/s1600/excursion1+302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7liJCa7bbKa24MDeXcKDPuvZcPgEh9f4nxp_xtW1thcobfKBSuUnjL0zLoW_MdRIxihzKvVOG_h7olmf3TwvcUbIDrNjrpTyMY4rep-VVielet9WKtCbtie8cNuHfRJn3o4bSSPdF0KKG/s1600/excursion1+302.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While traveling through the Atlas Mountains we often had to stop for herds of goats!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz7OPrFpUzMSi_2BUEcW08Ej6LlKNoDVlQ88pkyeu_H1mdypAFNciN01Km0CCg3KPidbAEbFEXrllFyXXQ7F_dDgpFpzKT9HHKjMP8ZpY4Rw3mL8eUjAKS6QSvPCBBgMaGZxUTw61Rfh9U/s1600/excursion1+304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz7OPrFpUzMSi_2BUEcW08Ej6LlKNoDVlQ88pkyeu_H1mdypAFNciN01Km0CCg3KPidbAEbFEXrllFyXXQ7F_dDgpFpzKT9HHKjMP8ZpY4Rw3mL8eUjAKS6QSvPCBBgMaGZxUTw61Rfh9U/s1600/excursion1+304.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Majorelle gardens in Marrakech</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PtNlbBuLi2tYaQ3XBwohzaSIbnKek4VBja8NxrwX5eTAgxnIKegJcoqdPWqkXicOlblEztXb7xp8de61hr6TGRgE06PFW9g4M763tb5EC3ekvSQC5nFj6iZJXQMsw3br6JZHtwfuMEl_/s1600/excursion1+335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3PtNlbBuLi2tYaQ3XBwohzaSIbnKek4VBja8NxrwX5eTAgxnIKegJcoqdPWqkXicOlblEztXb7xp8de61hr6TGRgE06PFW9g4M763tb5EC3ekvSQC5nFj6iZJXQMsw3br6JZHtwfuMEl_/s1600/excursion1+335.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The largest palace in Marrakech</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnKZ0OeAaev6GByXTc13vaKR-Nzr4lzBUESXhmYZ0mSv34Y1N9nuX3U17rnrrYKWdyLC34-xjR3AodbFYTfazJMJwEw87Se7gINvu2SA16q1UuFdlejZy_K9ozf1g_2Oo6c6Q1RS4CVAF/s1600/excursion1+347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnKZ0OeAaev6GByXTc13vaKR-Nzr4lzBUESXhmYZ0mSv34Y1N9nuX3U17rnrrYKWdyLC34-xjR3AodbFYTfazJMJwEw87Se7gINvu2SA16q1UuFdlejZy_K9ozf1g_2Oo6c6Q1RS4CVAF/s1600/excursion1+347.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped at a women's co-op that produces argan oil and other argan products. It is SUCH hard work!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi818k2e-ENzc0M65grv92bJHopVE29qeXRDNoQ5u9vbOGZteHbIyEwaNZlKT54sh_9AhcviLhH1c9kd-9VMcx7v71g50VhU6UyhJHLHQRWDmiuFGqN-mE_OV7xji7LPcVGo30tlbBh9rLu/s1600/excursion1+352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi818k2e-ENzc0M65grv92bJHopVE29qeXRDNoQ5u9vbOGZteHbIyEwaNZlKT54sh_9AhcviLhH1c9kd-9VMcx7v71g50VhU6UyhJHLHQRWDmiuFGqN-mE_OV7xji7LPcVGo30tlbBh9rLu/s1600/excursion1+352.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our last stop was Essaouira. We ended up staying an extra day because nobody wanted to leave this beautiful city (known as a favorite spot of Orson Welles, Jimi Hendrix and various other celebrities).</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgek-q0VkX1UwR0lbKEKtHzRrrQEGyYAtoCgGwpDADHx1qcSt0lFnjIceg9-C4KOr-iwouplMUyOzC99kbVZUk3yUQcQLQR3moPtSVAe8rs5TZZae58c4fjNMjcUbhl5cKsK69uT57Y1YtR/s1600/excursion1+385.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgek-q0VkX1UwR0lbKEKtHzRrrQEGyYAtoCgGwpDADHx1qcSt0lFnjIceg9-C4KOr-iwouplMUyOzC99kbVZUk3yUQcQLQR3moPtSVAe8rs5TZZae58c4fjNMjcUbhl5cKsK69uT57Y1YtR/s1600/excursion1+385.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If any of you have been following me on Facebook you'll know that I've been documenting the cats I run into!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZlnxBG0GF5lwuTQPH7JAXp9xyED9DJ5mcDYRGzBEfxiFqWTTpatOm1MBVBo9jLknsx6OyB1A9b9mhdqHwfw-HkdyU7Qt5d0r6ESEhFzFrXOvv5PJ_Wo1mpWGDdKEUtXpp8cR0mOwRa1I/s1600/excursion1+391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZlnxBG0GF5lwuTQPH7JAXp9xyED9DJ5mcDYRGzBEfxiFqWTTpatOm1MBVBo9jLknsx6OyB1A9b9mhdqHwfw-HkdyU7Qt5d0r6ESEhFzFrXOvv5PJ_Wo1mpWGDdKEUtXpp8cR0mOwRa1I/s1600/excursion1+391.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My friend Ahmed taught me about Tuareg culture. If I ever return to Essaouira I'll have to visit him!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWI2swyRjaLmX6JhKda95ifvsomUGTZeJXru2pvZVPp7mTaOlwb72JDx5muMtsXpaC0i-0CO9V0JrnthFF7KGQ-ZKrl-u-yrfMMwD-eXPwbmWOsMlb0fynmJ8wjuI3xnyjEDHAG3ePvuk9/s1600/excursion1+394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWI2swyRjaLmX6JhKda95ifvsomUGTZeJXru2pvZVPp7mTaOlwb72JDx5muMtsXpaC0i-0CO9V0JrnthFF7KGQ-ZKrl-u-yrfMMwD-eXPwbmWOsMlb0fynmJ8wjuI3xnyjEDHAG3ePvuk9/s1600/excursion1+394.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The square before the medina in Essaouira</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCehfzVDjzBUhYQ4PJVa5KGI6WGRTjZ_RE8WHoo3LDvcjh627AcPaqFkSu-uT0nBNQ26Q8nI0dbu-aeaaEaPhXZvCDJiDz_Mv6U-839bl3TGYtZZh3kSaFM6mN9MiSpf9NW4OqrUtMZ0vH/s1600/excursion1+399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCehfzVDjzBUhYQ4PJVa5KGI6WGRTjZ_RE8WHoo3LDvcjh627AcPaqFkSu-uT0nBNQ26Q8nI0dbu-aeaaEaPhXZvCDJiDz_Mv6U-839bl3TGYtZZh3kSaFM6mN9MiSpf9NW4OqrUtMZ0vH/s1600/excursion1+399.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
So that's a glimpse of my first excursion. I could go into a lot more detail but I'm already half an hour past closing time at school. The crazy thing is that Excursion #2 is already coming up--we leave on Sunday for our rural village stay. When we get back it's only one more week of classes, then Excursion 3, then (gasp!) ISJ time. NOT READY.<br />
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But I will be...more on that soon!<br />
<br />
Laila saida,<br />
<br />
Lauren<br />
<br />
<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-7412338442479081922014-02-16T01:14:00.001+00:002014-02-16T01:14:23.743+00:00Gal-entine's Day at the HammamYes, Valentine's Day is a thing in Morocco. As a newly pieced together group that has already professed love for each other, we figured there's only one way to celebrate V-Day in Morocco: MOJ style, specifically the girls (sorry dudes). What better way to get out with the girls than go to the hammam, AM I RIGHT?!<br />
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(PS--a hammam is a public bath.)<br />
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I'm going to admit it, I was super nervous. I made sure my friends would meet me out in front of the hammam so that I didn't have to go in alone, and before we went in I was a little freaked out. There I was, walking down the street with a towel and a bucket, thinking <i>everyone walking past me knows what I'm going to do</i>. It's not a big deal for people here, but since cleaning yourself is such a private thing in America, I felt awkward and way too public about it.<br />
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However, once I got inside and got past the initial stage fright, I realized that it was very relaxing. I thought I'd be more...intimidated?...being surrounded by a bunch of half naked women, and feel way too vulnerable. But everyone keeps to themselves or to their own group, so it's not awkward at all. And it makes sense...if you go with a group, you have someone to scrub your back for you!<br />
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So there's a small fee to get into the hammam, and then you go inside and undress. Then you enter another room where the actual bath is, but it's divided into three parts. You hang your towel in the first room, and the last room on the end (which you actually start in) is like a sauna. Very hot! The middle room is where most people stay longest and do their washing, and there are a bunch of faucets lined along the wall where you can fill your bucket. You bring a special type of soap that's either henna or argan based, and a scrubber glove that's just the right amount of rough to get the dead skin off (gross, I know, but you wouldn't believe the amount that comes off of you). I came out of the hammam glowing!<br />
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So, that's it, Friday is hammam day with my gals. Do something that makes you feel uncomfortable at first. You never know if you'll like something until you try.<br />
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(In case you were wondering, my friends and I feel much closer now.)<br />
<br />
Just a quick note--I am traveling this week. Yay, excursion #1! I will be going to Fes, Marrakech, south toward the desert where I'll be riding a camel (!), and Essauoria, with some stops in between. We will be gone for a week. I'm bringing my laptop for when we're in hotels, but I don't know if I'll have time to blog. I'll certainly update when I get back though!<br />
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B'sslama,<br />
<br />
Lauren<br />
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Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-23293258525747532972014-02-12T14:47:00.001+00:002014-02-12T14:47:38.654+00:00Doha Makes CouscousOn Friday we got out of language class early for cooking class! It was pretty fun, because we learned how to make couscous but the entire cooking class was in Arabic. I picked up some new vocabulary while learning to make a Moroccan delicacy!<br />
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Fridays are for couscous--every week, we get out of school early so that we can enjoy lunch with our families. The most popular type is "7-vegetable couscous" which is what most of our families make for us. For this lesson though, Doha, our homestay coordinator, made a sweet-and-salty version with caramelized onions and golden raisins (YUM!).<br />
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(By the way, yes I did make couscous at school, eat it, and then go home and eat more couscous. You can never eat enough here.)<br />
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Couscous here is not like in the States, where you can open a box and spend five minutes boiling it and bam, couscous. It's steamed here, and takes at least an hour to cook. It's a meal that takes a lot of time, so families eat it on Fridays when everyone is home due to it being a holy day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doha informed us that her mother is much better at making couscous, but we enjoyed it nonetheless!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk7BgUxLvmVfU7I7qdL5HwdxAGgAw2OfFR5nV8gLb4bX3gEVwZrSKE1NIiAlE5-MXzpsclLsvjGymgCgbH6U97jKYnb3RnwSoUF7yFI9GEaTwFe_A5nOuRWGpFtUJ6l0O6vDDWgAGxW8p/s1600/morocco_doha_prof+044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTk7BgUxLvmVfU7I7qdL5HwdxAGgAw2OfFR5nV8gLb4bX3gEVwZrSKE1NIiAlE5-MXzpsclLsvjGymgCgbH6U97jKYnb3RnwSoUF7yFI9GEaTwFe_A5nOuRWGpFtUJ6l0O6vDDWgAGxW8p/s1600/morocco_doha_prof+044.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My classmates smelling the spices.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHF2sh1lRWnprlKyTS9hED37ZM0f8eJYQkm3wiSW9SDk7-7myFtEL8-YMP80HUrIUpVqDOaATqgNMNVCEIa6FAlaN6UuBYWpVe637LhotLCso5Ip1UOIpIlqq9apUxnQB2MWs4EfGzyYq6/s1600/morocco_doha_prof+053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHF2sh1lRWnprlKyTS9hED37ZM0f8eJYQkm3wiSW9SDk7-7myFtEL8-YMP80HUrIUpVqDOaATqgNMNVCEIa6FAlaN6UuBYWpVe637LhotLCso5Ip1UOIpIlqq9apUxnQB2MWs4EfGzyYq6/s1600/morocco_doha_prof+053.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mixture had onions, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and tons of other delicious flavors!</td></tr>
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Hungry? I don't blame you. It was ladeed--delicious!Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-36973395839122965402014-02-05T23:37:00.000+00:002014-02-05T23:37:00.803+00:00"In this house, everyone is family."Salaamu Alaikoum!<br />
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<i>Wa alaikoum salaam!</i><br />
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Labas?<br />
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<i>Labas! </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I understand it's been forever since I updated you all--sorry! Between not having the best WiFi, dealing with a packed schedule, and trying to explore a new country, I haven't had much time to get my thoughts on paper (or screen). But I sure have had a lot of them! And it can be difficult communicating thoughts when you're surrounded by very limited amounts of English and massive amounts of languages you wish you knew (or thought you knew--<i>Spanish!</i>) but don't. So it's nice to have a blog for that.<br />
<br />
Wow, where should I even begin?<br />
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First things first, you'll notice there's been a bit of a makeover. I figured, I'm not at SMC anymore so I should go for more of a Moroccan vibe. On our first day here, I was so inspired by something Badrdine said that I wrote it down: "The more confused you are, the more you understand Morocco...it's a mosaic; it's not a melting pot."<br />
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(Don't you just love Badrdine? So wise!)<br />
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That's where the new title came in. This is My Mosaic, a document of what Morocco is starting to mean to me. I'm also very confused (in a good way), so I think this works. The photo is looking down from the second floor of my school, the CCCL. It's a very old building and that mosaic on the floor is the original.<br />
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The last time I wrote on here I was about to meet my host family...I was so nervous. Terrified, even. But as soon as they called my name and my sister walked up to me and kissed my face, I knew I'd be okay. I'm glad Azizah was the one to pick me up, though it was a surprise because the info sheet I was given said I only had a mother and four brothers (wow). However, I quickly learned that Azizah is married to one of the brothers (who actually left for California the morning I moved in so we never met) and another one moved with his wife to Australia. That leaves two brothers, Abdelilah and Mostapha, who are the kindest/funniest/most caring people I've probably ever met. Abdelilah is also moving to California (emigration is actually a pretty big issue for Morocco) at the end of this week, so we're all excited for him but quite sad to see him leave.<br />
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My mama, Rahma, has been a joy for me since the second we met. I was sitting on the couch in my room (it's a living room type of area with my bedroom curtained off) when she came running through the doors with open arms smiling and saying "Lauren, Lauren!" She grabbed my face for a double-kiss and immediately began feeding me, and she hasn't stopped since. She's an incredible cook and it's hard to turn down food...not just because it's so delicious, but also because it's her mission to make me "fat," according to my brothers. (SIT warned us this would happen--when you finish your food, your family yells "kuli, kuli!" and motions for you to keep eating by pushing bread into your hands). We do not speak the same language, but I find it surprisingly easy to communicate with her through hand gestures. She speaks to me anyway, as if I know what she's saying, and I just smile and she pats my back and that's enough for the both of us. Actually, one of my favorite times of day is right before I leave for school in the morning when I join her for breakfast. We're the only two awake at that time, and I always walk into the kitchen area (which is also a living room/bedroom where my brothers sleep) to find her sitting on the couch waiting for me with bread, cheese, olive oil and a pot of hot coffee. She pats the seat next to her on the couch to motion for me to sit, and I've found that she likes to pour the coffee and make everything for me so I let her do it and say "shoukran" (thank you). We eat together in the quiet and then I say thank you again and get on my way to school.<br />
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(By the way, for those of you who know me, you'll be surprised to know that I actually LOVE the coffee here. My mama makes it well because it's mostly warm milk with a little bit of coffee and sugar--Moroccans love their sugar!)<br />
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I realized I made the description of the house sound small, so let me clarify: this house is HUGE. When you walk in there's an open square with no roof (a typical architectural style for houses in the medina) and then you can go inside to the rooms that branch off of it. My room is straight ahead, with Azizah's room behind it. The kitchen area is next to it, and the bathroom next to that, but they're not attached so you walk through the open square to get to them (at some point I'll get pictures up here). The bathroom has both a western and a Turkish toilet, but to shower I just use the faucet in the wall with a big bucket (the hammam is still very popular in Morocco, so I'm hoping to try it sometime). The kitchen/living room is a long room with a big couch going along the wall, long enough for two or three people to line up on it to sleep. This is very common in Moroccan homes, and even my bed is more of a small couch.<br />
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I haven't seen much of the rest of the house because the whole extended family lives here and each family has their own space. I wait until I'm invited inside, which usually happens with the kids (playtime is a universal language). I did go up to the roof with Mostapha the other day, and it's awesome up there. You can see pretty much the whole medina and I was able to pick out my school (it's the tallest building inside the medina). It's a great reading spot for warm days!<br />
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But anyway, the kids! They're great. There's Azizah's daughter, Mellek (meaning "Angel"), who is about a year old. She's a very happy baby and she loves to walk, even though she's not awesome at it quite yet. There's Sivdeen, Bediaa's son, who I guess would be my cousin? He's an adorable little troublemaker who was very shy with me at first. He'd burst into a room yelling something, and when he'd realize I was there, he'd hide behind someone and timidly say "salaam" and then run away. However, it's a good thing I thought to bring toys, because I gave him a slinky and we've been buddies ever since. Sivdeen has (at least) two toddler-aged siblings whose names I can't remember, and there are at least three little girls around here somewhere too. Then there's Oussama, who is a 14-year-old English/Arabic speaking computer whiz and is just as awesome as I made him sound. He was with Azizah when she came to pick me up (he pulled my heavy suitcase all the way through the maze of the medina for me!), and he's been by my side ever since. Although he's technically a cousin (or...nephew?) he calls me sister and I call him brother. He is my resident Fus'ha (Arabic) tutor, and in exchange for his patience and linguistic expertise he gets to play around on my laptop when I'm done with my homework. It's a win-win for both of us.<br />
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I have so many great stories about my host family already. As soon as I got here, Azizah showed me my room and helped me get settled in. Then, she took me by the shoulders, looked directly into my eyes and said, "Lauren, everyone in this house is family. YOU are family." I am so grateful that this family was so quick to welcome me into their home and (quite literally) give me all they have to give. I feel like I don't deserve to be treated so lovingly without them even knowing me at first, but now I truly feel like they are my family, just like how I felt the same way about Saint Mike's after a few weeks.<br />
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On my first night in my new home, my brothers took me for a walk through the medina and the casbah (a beautiful ancient fortress right on the beach, about a minute's walk and one scary street-crossing away from the medina). In the casbah, they stopped so I could get a henna painted on my hand, and then they bought me cotton candy out near the beach. On the way back home we stopped for soup (I don't even know what it's called but you can find it everywhere and it has chickpeas in it and it's SO good) AND they bought sweets. Then I had to go home and eat dinner! I have to admit though, going for a walk with my brothers is one of my favorite things. We always end up having an adventure, whether it was the day we ventured in a tiny rowboat over to Sale or the time they were teaching me how to get to school from the house and they let me take the lead (I got lost, obviously...but I've got it now!).<br />
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Basically, I could not ask for a better family. I'm lucky, too--everyone in my group gets along with their families okay, but it seems only very few of us have formed great relationships while everyone else is more or less left alone.<br />
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OH! And my brothers even helped me with my first reporting assignment! I had to write a food story, so I decided to go talk to some food vendors in the medina and eventually chose to write about the snail soup guy. Abdelilah would not stop talking about how good the snails are one day, and it piqued my interest. I asked them to go with me so that they could translate during the interview, and they agreed. I bought us a round of snails, and I thought I would just try one, but the vendor wouldn't quite go for that (neither would my brothers). So, I ate a whole darn bowl of them. To tell you the truth, they weren't bad! I'm definitely glad I had the experience--and even more glad that I feel fine 24 hours later so they didn't make me sick (I was already sick this weekend--I knew it was going to happen, and I'm kind of happy to have gotten it over with sooner rather than later).<br />
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My brothers are so cool, they even helped some of my friends with their assignments too. One was having trouble even finding a vendor who would agree to an interview, but since Abdelilah and Mostapha know pretty much everyone (it seems), they got her a good last-minute chat with a fig/date seller.<br />
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I could go on forever about how great everyone is, but instead I'll leave you with some pictures of snails. Just think about me eating them. Mmm mmm. Hungry?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">People just gather around the cart and the vendor puts a steaming bowl in front of you. You pick up a shell and pull the snail out with a toothpick, simultaneously separating it from the stomach contents. Not very easy...it took me a few tries and my bros had a good laugh! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Snails are very good for you, full of protein and a popular winter snack in Morocco. You can also drink the broth, which is pumped with flavorful spices!</td></tr>
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<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-89007946970852069222014-01-30T00:59:00.001+00:002014-01-30T01:20:53.698+00:00Salamu Alaikoum!"Peace be with you!"<br />
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Tuesday, January 28th<br />
<br />
I have now ended my second full day in Morocco! I'm sorry for not updating sooner, but the WiFi is quite spotty at my hotel and I haven't had much time to spare. I figured tonight would be a good time because I am completely exhausted and I don't want to wear myself out or get sick.<br />
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Rabat is absolutely beautiful, and I am so happy I chose to come here. The views are gorgeous, the people are warm and friendly, and my group is awesome. There is still a lot that I need to get used to, but that's expected for any first-time experience in a different culture.<br />
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I was pushed out of my comfort zone before even arriving in Rabat! I was about to board my connecting flight in Paris when my name was called over the loud speaker. I had been standing in line with some brand new SIT friends and I realized I had a different class on my ticket, so I thought they just wanted me to board before them. But when I got up there a man pulled me aside and told me (in English, thank goodness) that the receipt on my luggage had been ripped off and I had to go to the plane with him and claim it before they board it on the plane. I said okay without a second thought, but as he led me outside and down a flight of stairs to a white van and told me to get in, I got a bit worried. It just seemed so strange and I hadn't told anyone where I was going. I've never flown out of the country or by myself before either so I was already overwhelmed and tired from jet-lag and my previous 6 or 7-hour flight.<br />
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He could detect my discomfort, so he explained that the plane was not attached to the ramp and parked further away. Then he asked me about my trip and why I chose to go to Morocco. We chatted the whole way to the plane and he told me that I was going to love it and not to worry because the people are wonderful, the food is delicious, the sights are breathtaking, and it's very safe. In the end he completely settled my nerves about everything, not just the luggage, and after I said the suitcase was mine he allowed me to board the plane early.<br />
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Sorry for the length before we even get to Morocco, but that story has been on my mind since it happened because it's just so crazy!<br />
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When we got to the airport in Rabat we were pleasantly surprised that it was over 60 degrees and sunny. We were silent with awe during the drive to the hotel, watching all of the people and seeing the beautiful archtecture, open spaces and the Atlantic Ocean (which has much bigger waves on this side, by the way!).<br />
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I just tried uploading a picture but it's taking forever and I need to get to sleep soon, so I'm going to ignore all of the blogging rules and write you a long text post with no pictures. I'll post those when I'm at school and the WiFi is better.<br />
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Speaking of school, it is the most beautiful building I have ever stepped into. I can't believe I'll be taking classes there--it's called the Center for Cross-Cultural Learning, or 3CL as I nicknamed it, which has caught on with many of the students. It's an Andalusian-style building (influenced by the Andalusian era, 1400-1600) built in the 19th century with all of its original mosaics and structure still in place. We have a rooftop terrace where you can go up and see all of Rabat and its several districts, all with architecture influenced by French, Spanish, Moorish, and Arab styles.<br />
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Our school is the tallest building in the medina, or the old city that has completely tiled streets and is surrounded by walls. Everything is in there--homes, marketplaces, even cars although I think they're technically not supposed to drive through there with the narrow streets and mass crowds of pedestrians. It's chaotic, but you learn to navigate it quickly and it's a wonderful experience. The food areas always smell amazing.<br />
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THE FOOD. Oh my gosh, the food. I'll admit, I'm not a big fan of the meat, but that's expected from a previous 4 and a 1/2-year vegetarian. I try everything though in order to practice for my host family (we meet them on Thursday), and the chicken isn't bad when it's not dark meat. I really don't like the beef though, but the sauce is always really yummy so normally I have a little bit of meat and then just dunk my bread in the sauce. The bread is amazing, and it's served with every meal. We also get chocolate croissants every morning from the hotel. Yum! There is always fresh fruits and vegetables, and now I understand what people mean when they say American produce has no taste. I've had the best bananas, oranges, apples, cucumbers and tomatoes I've ever eaten. So far my favorite things are the tagine (vegetables that are stewed in a certain way, and sometimes chicken or other meat is added), and the lentils and sweet squash we had with lunch today. I want to try the street food too, but the program coordinators told us to go slow with that and make sure we get something served hot so as to avoid illness.<br />
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Today we went on a "drop-off," where we all got on a bus and were dropped off in groups of 3 around the city (the "new city" outside the medina) and try to find our way back to 3CL. My group was the first to be dropped off and we were still quite close to the medina, so it wasn't as challenging as we hoped. We even had time to stop and buy minutes for our cell phones (although mine still isn't working...hmmm...). We were still the first ones back! But don't worry, we were all given 20 dirhams to take a cab in case we got too lost.<br />
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By the way, it's about 8 dirhams for a US dollar. Cab fare is very cheap, as are most things--I paid 215 dirhams for a cell phone with SIM card. A cup of mint tea at a cafe is about 7 dirhams, less than a dollar. By the way, I'm already addicted to the tea!<br />
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We also went on a bus tour today, so we got to explore all of Rabat and Sale (Sah-lay), which is a more French-influenced city right over the bridge from Rabat. While in Rabat, we drove through a protest in front of the parliament building. Our guide Nabil said he thought the protest was for teachers (hey dad, you reading?!) demanding better pay and asking to not have to take exams in order to get a promotion (all teachers already have a degree). It seemed pretty peaceful, with people walking in lines holding hands, chanting and carrying signs. Badrdine (Badr for short), one of the journalism program coordinators, said they're very common due to the high number of human rights organizations and NGOs. He told us not to participate in them, but as journalists we will be fine standing on the sidelines and asking someone near the edge what they're fighting for. I may never end up doing that depending on what I choose to research, but it was good to know that students have done it in the past.<br />
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Among the many orientation lectures we've had so far, I've enjoyed the ones with Badr most. He gave us a lesson on bargaining today because in the medina, it's not appropriate to buy something for the first price offered. Especially as an American, bargaining is a way to show an understanding of the culture. To prove that, it's obviously best to bargain in Arabic, so we learned some key words and phrases (I think I will make a sidebar at some point to keep track of words I'm learning). <span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">We also take a "survival Arabic" course tomorrow before
we're given 20 dirhams and sent off to bargain on our own. I'm more nervous
about this than the drop-off because I know zero Arabic besides what I've been
told so far. All of our classes start Monday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I'm so sorry for the length, and believe it or not I haven't told
you everything! I'll try to update more frequently so that you don't get
novels. And pictures to come!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Besslama (Cheers!),<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Lauren<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-17698480040474838172014-01-11T01:22:00.000+00:002014-01-11T01:22:00.554+00:0015 days.It's strange--the longer I wait, ironically, the less ready I feel. If I could hop on a plane right now and be landed in Rabat in the morning, I'd do it. Then I wouldn't have all this time to think about everything that could possibly go wrong. I'd be immersed already, the nervous jitters fading as the acceptance of a new place and "no turning back now" sets in.<br />
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I know that's how it'll happen, too--I'll be terrified right up until I step off the plane and into an unknown city. Then I'll be too busy to be scared. I'll preoccupy myself with trying to find my group, get to the hotel, unpack, and begin orientation. I'll be nervous to meet my host family, but again, too busy to really soak it in. I wish I could be there already and get all of the awkward parts over with, so that I can really settle in.<br />
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That will all happen soon, of course, but not soon enough for me. Until then, I'll wake up thinking about Morocco. Spend the day trying to get things done while in a daze wondering what my life will be like in Morocco. Go to sleep imagining the night sky in Morocco. Over and over again. Just as I've done for the past ten days already!<br />
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I was looking through my itinerary and a little saddened to see that Casablanca was not listed. No Tangier, either. I'm hoping to possibly explore those cities either on a weekend or perhaps during my ISP period, as I already have my plane ticket purchased for my return trip and didn't allow for any travel time after the program ends. I really don't want to end up regretting that decision, so I hope I can get there at some point. Otherwise, it looks like a great schedule packed with some really interesting places. I'm particularly excited for Marrakech, Fez, and Ceuta.<br />
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Most of my friends who are studying abroad are either at their destinations already or leaving within the next few days. My friends returning to Saint Mike's are starting school this week. The reality is sinking in now, and the range of emotion it brings is insane. One minute I'm depressingly sad about not going back to Saint Mike's, the next I'm practically jumping for joy over the prospect of this new life in a new country and all of the opportunities it brings, and even in the next minute I'm perfectly content just sitting on my couch at home reading books for the rest of my life. I'm going to miss my friends and family, and I'm going to be uncomfortable at times, and I'm probably going to get lonely too. But it might be time for me to get a little uncomfortable. It's in these circumstances when we truly learn, right?<br />
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To all my friends out there--no matter the destination, safe travels!<br />
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LaurenLaurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-702360554958358252013-12-16T04:41:00.000+00:002013-12-16T04:59:32.544+00:00My SMC FamilySo, it's kind of insane that fall has come and gone.<br />
And now I'm home.<br />
And I won't be returning to Saint Mike's until August.<br />
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Yeah, I'm freaking out a little.<br />
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I'll return to those thoughts in my next few posts, but for now I wanted to take this semester-in-review and focus on some of the crazy, awesome, fun, ridiculous happenings that went on while living in <a href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%23TH103&src=hash" target="_blank">#TH103</a>.<br />
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Since this could easily turn into another novel, I figured I'd let the pictures do the talking this time.<br />
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However, you'll find that the general theme of these photos revolves less around academics (which, trust me, is a VERY important part of college, but certainly not the entire experience) and more around family. Because my SMC friends are not only friends: they are my home away from home. They are an extension of my family. I started thinking about this much more when this happened:<br />
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My mom sent me a Christmas package, and inside were a number of little gifts for not only me, but all three of my housemates. This was her way of saying that she understands when I'm with her for Thanksgiving break but then I talk about "going home to Saint Mike's." These girls started out as friends, but they're no longer friends. They're family.<br />
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My housemates and I did pretty much everything together this semester. Here, we're dressed up as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles for Halloween. Yeah, we're those kinds of girls. Be jealous.<br />
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My housemates and I, plus our friends Emma and <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Merrill</a>, on the day we all moved in. L to R: Emma, Cara, Merrill, myself, <a href="http://alex-smcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex</a>, and Cait.</div>
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Liz (L) and Sheila (R) have been part of my SMC family since day one. Even before that for <a href="http://imjustsheila.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sheila</a>, who lives in my town and went to high school with me!</div>
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<img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjQcuKHdy4tFGp6keT2P7RS9BFfD-xxywE35fvdRB-zj7TU7zqFP0k_bQRjJerUlkDrYiOf12u9aJa92EvPSHqaGil4raY6tMPDQQffwtlfb7Hw2oGdOieYnAifTHGpnOiHdF7hzWswH2-/s320/0901131848.jpg" width="240" /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZ9m7dX6F2F7TBq0zASms5dr4H0GHoyRjwno69tZE1uio2yFbCv8VLMw54TcGdniQ9DHn15KEAzgL4lVeBgMfQjPC3ZMwLHUQ_Fji_JyaIiA4pFXZSMyPHGbf7b6_kKsDYNngl3_BHmnP/s1600/0901132011b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZ9m7dX6F2F7TBq0zASms5dr4H0GHoyRjwno69tZE1uio2yFbCv8VLMw54TcGdniQ9DHn15KEAzgL4lVeBgMfQjPC3ZMwLHUQ_Fji_JyaIiA4pFXZSMyPHGbf7b6_kKsDYNngl3_BHmnP/s320/0901132011b.jpg" width="240" /></a> </div>
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Not that I condone climbing furniture or anything, but if you're running out of places to owl or you need a quiet spot to read, don't rule out the top of your fridge. Cait and Cara had quite the blast with that!</div>
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Cara was my roommate this semester. She's an MJD major just like me, so it was pretty cool to have someone to come home to who could share ideas and relate to some of the stuff I was working on--she was even my editor for one of my Defender articles! Whether we were working, acting like 2-year-olds and having finger painting fights at the Art Hop, or getting dressed up for no reason on the weekends, we made some great memories this semester before we part ways for studying abroad this spring.</div>
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Nate is another one of my MJD buddies, and we spent a lot of time together this semester with two of the same classes and a group project. We're pretty darn hilarious (or at least we think we are), and we can be pretty crazy sometimes...he even got me to dye a strip of my hair blonde this semester!</div>
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Some more MJD family. <a href="http://julianasmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Juliana</a>, <a href="http://laurensmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Lauren ("Mazzy") Mazzoleni</a>, and Lauren Carter got me through my 8am Magazine Writing class with lots of laughs. In fact, the two Laurens and I collectively became known as "the Lauren Corner" in that class because we always sat together. When our professor (the fabulous <a href="http://www.smcvt.edu/Pages/Get-to-Know-Us/Faculty/Cleary-Allison.aspx" target="_blank">Allison Cleary</a>) asked a question and called on "Lauren" for a response, all three of us would answer!</div>
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My blogging family. <a href="http://julianasmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Juliana</a>, <a href="http://boatessmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Boates</a>, myself, and <a href="http://laurensmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mazzy</a>. Not pictured: countless incredible others, such as <a href="http://lisarittersmcvt.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Lisa Ritter</a>, <a href="http://alexandrasmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex Byrne</a>, <a href="http://alex-smcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex Brenock</a>, and <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Merrill Poor</a>, just to name a few...and our fearless leader <a href="http://www.smcvt.edu/On-Campus/Offices-and-Services/Marketing-and-Communications.aspx?tabid=social-media" target="_blank">Christian</a>, who held a Christmas party for us!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P5Vr1UvuQQ9r74E1p7avAx_ukB68_qKj_4tV15yAh9Y2bcMZx-tKQyYOK_K3UmF2WzvGthcmF5vux8fbw4hQ02jjl7UrjsEGfNkG3wkjtUX8n1FOHp9fRVv-z85oT_WFixxwptOFonnC/s1600/1489101_10152056115783850_822595022_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P5Vr1UvuQQ9r74E1p7avAx_ukB68_qKj_4tV15yAh9Y2bcMZx-tKQyYOK_K3UmF2WzvGthcmF5vux8fbw4hQ02jjl7UrjsEGfNkG3wkjtUX8n1FOHp9fRVv-z85oT_WFixxwptOFonnC/s320/1489101_10152056115783850_822595022_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Alex was one of my housemates this semester, and I can't tell you the number of times we told each other we wished we had gotten closer sooner. As a fellow blogger and my friend Cait's sophomore year roommate, I was always acquainted with Alex, and we were basically brought together this year because we were both going into our townhouse with Cait. She is now one of my best friends, and we're scarily similar. We did everything together this semester!</div>
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Those are my most recent photos from this semester, but it's hardly an accurate representation of the true size and depth of my SMC family. For instance, I've yet to upload photos from our Secret Santa celebration, but that's something I do every year with my core group of friends from freshman year, including my old roommate Maya and three of my go-to guys, Shawn, Danny and Cori. There are the lovely ladies I go to Sloane with every Tuesday, the people I met through group projects, or my entire Reporting for Media class, which got very close as we helped each other revise our final projects. There are the numerous faculty members who I've come to view almost as parental figures in their wisdom. I even had an alumni mentor this semester who did everything from share his personal story to review my resume to make sure I was presenting my best self to possible employees. </div>
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These are all SMC family members, and they are what makes the difference for me. I've been saying since Day 1 that the best thing about Saint Mike's is the people, and I'm still a firm believer in that.</div>
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Now, we're all going off in different directions: <a href="http://imjustsheila.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Sheila</a>, Lauren and Liz to England; <a href="http://alex-smcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Alex</a>, <a href="http://laurensmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Mazzy</a> and <a href="http://merrillsmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Merrill</a> to Ireland; <a href="http://julianasmcbloggers.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Juliana</a> to South Africa; Maya and Emma to Spain; Mary to South Korea; Greta to Denmark; Cait to Ecuador; Cara to Costa Rica; my friend Jesse to the Navy; and myself to Morocco. I imagine this is what senior year feels like, except to a lesser extent because we're all coming back. I can't even bear to think about graduation day, but I know it'll be here faster than I think.</div>
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I'm really proud of my family and the things we're all accomplishing. These are the people who push me to be my best, and they know what I'm capable of before I even realize my potential. I can't imagine an entire semester without them, but I know they'll be with me in spirit every step of the way. It's great that we're going to have so many different experiences. Then, when we come back, we won't be able to stop talking!</div>
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I know I said I wouldn't write a lot, but I lied. Sorry. </div>
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Moral of the story: tell your family (no matter who that means to you) you love them. Not because it's the season to do so, but simply because you do.</div>
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Happy Holidays,</div>
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Lauren</div>
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Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7788451301728597363.post-3528820417474377462013-11-26T02:04:00.000+00:002013-11-26T02:04:27.853+00:00The Best Questions to Ask Your Tour Guide, Part 2Sorry to keep you waiting, folks! As you know, it's "the most wonderful time of the year" (and I mean that with every ounce of saracasm I can muster) in terms of massive assignments and very long papers. But hey, we're all hanging in there!<br />
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And when you're hanging with your tour guide, here are some more questions you should remember to ask:<br />
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(You can find the first part to this series <a href="http://laurenkopchik.blogspot.com/2013/10/the-best-questions-to-ask-your-tour.html" target="_blank">here</a>.)<br />
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<b>3.) What is the social life on campus like?</b><br />
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While there are a lot of things you can probably expect to find on almost any campus, there are also a lot of unique social aspects to each school. Size alone certainly makes an impact: at a small school like Saint Mike's, where everyone lives on campus, you'll know that there's always someone to talk to and that you're never alone. You can also expect that if you don't know someone personally, you probably have a friend who does, and so we're all really connected that way. That's not common at large universities.<br />
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I can also mention here that I never heard the term "suitcase school" until I toured colleges myself. Apparently some smaller schools earn this reputation when a majority of the students pack up and go home on the weekends. I've gotten the question a lot on tours, and I can definitely guarantee that <b>at Saint Mike's, everyone stays on campus over the weekend. </b>I live about five hours away, and I believe the average distance for students is somewhere around four. Even if I did live closer, I wouldn't want to leave. If we go away for a weekend, we come back feeling like we've missed too much!<br />
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And of course, speaking of weekends...<br />
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<b>4.) Don't be afraid to ask. Have the alcohol talk.</b><br />
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A lot of students and parents don't know how to approach this question, but more often than not, it's on everyone else's mind too. The rest of your tour group will probably be grateful you asked.<br />
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When students ask me what the "party scene" is like, I tell the truth. Summed up in one sentence: <b>Saint Mike's is what you make it. </b>If you come here looking for a party, you'll find it. If you want to drink, you'll figure out a way to do it. On the other hand, if the party scene isn't your thing, you'll find other people who feel the same way. There are plenty of things to do on weekends that don't involve alcohol or drugs: RAs put on social events in all of the dorms, you can go get free food in the Quad at midnight, you can attend a concert at Higher Ground or a show at the Flynn, hang out on Church Street or at the waterfront, go to campus events such as plays, movie nights or speakers, or even just relax in your friend's room. During the day you can sign up for Wilderness Program outings, MOVE service events, or a number of other things to keep you busy.<br />
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I think what I like most about Saint Mike's is that no matter how you choose to spend your time, the other students are very respectful and they don't judge. If you don't want to drink but you enjoy a good dance party, your friends will be cool with that. I've never been pressured into anything that I don't want to do, and I love that. <b>The culture here is one of respect.</b> Students respect each other's choices and decisions, which is another reason why we're constantly talking about the amazing community we have here.<b> </b><br />
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<b>5.) What has surprised you most about coming here?</b><br />
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A father once asked me this on a tour and it stopped me in my tracks. Thinking back for a minute, the answer came to me quite obviously: <b>I couldn't believe how quickly I started calling Saint Mike's "home".</b><br />
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I distinctly remember going home for the first time my freshman year. I was happy to be back in New York, but I missed all of my friends at school. I don't remember what exactly I was talking to my mom about, but I mentioned that I was going to do something "when I get home."<br />
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WELL. Let me tell you, it's not very easy for a mother to hear those words. She freaked a little that I was using "the H-word" in reference to a place that was 5 hours away from her. I grew up in the same house for 18 years, so yes, that is my home...but I've also spent the past three years in a very accelerated state of living on my own, making new friends, and completely navigating a new place. And naturally, the longer I stayed, the more I fell in love with it. So yes, Saint Mike's is my home now, too. And there will always be a special place in my heart for this home--no matter where in the world I am!<br />
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So, there you have it. Part 2 of TBQTAYTG. Remember to ask any and every question that comes to mind--you don't want to leave the campus with any lingering questions, and your tour guide doesn't want you to either!<br />
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Have a very happy Thanksgiving, and if you're traveling, be safe!<br />
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Lauren<br />
<br />Laurenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07047253398040585964noreply@blogger.com0