Amethyst Initiative

One hundred twenty nine Presdients of American universities have signed the Amethyst Initiative, a statement that asks that we reexamine the drinking age.

The statement is as follows:

It’s time to rethink the drinking age

In 1984 Congress passed the National Minimum Drinking Age Act, which imposed a penalty of 10% of a state's federal highway appropriation on any state setting its drinking age lower than 21.

Twenty-four years later, our experience as college and university presidents convinces us that…

Twenty-one is not working

A culture of dangerous, clandestine “binge-drinking”—often conducted off-campus—has developed.

Alcohol education that mandates abstinence as the only legal option has not resulted in significant constructive behavioral change among our students.

Adults under 21 are deemed capable of voting, signing contracts, serving on juries and enlisting in the military, but are told they are not mature enough to have a beer.

By choosing to use fake IDs, students make ethical compromises that erode respect for the law.

How many times must we relearn the lessons of prohibition?

We call upon our elected officials:

To support an informed and dispassionate public debate over the effects of the 21 year-old drinking age.

To consider whether the 10% highway fund “incentive” encourages or inhibits that debate.

To invite new ideas about the best ways to prepare young adults to make responsible decisions about alcohol.

We pledge ourselves and our institutions to playing a vigorous, constructive role as these critical discussions unfold.

David Hodge, President of Miami University has refused to sign this initiative. Since he arrived on our campus two years ago, he has been full-speed-ahead on encouraging responsible drinking on our campus. With "Police Beat" headlines like "First-years steal uptown bricks, hide them in bushes", "Oxford police cite junior for intoxicated driving", and "Resident finds Springfield visitor passed out in lawn", it's clear that these policies haven't been working on some. Zero-tolerance policies rarely do in an environment that encourages and facilitates binge drinking on a daily basis. Perhaps a different drinking age would change things - perhaps not.

A summation of Hodge's statement can be found here on the Miami Student website.

common theme

A common theme I've noticed over the last couple months is man's propensity to anger. Sometimes in a heat of passion, sometimes developed over years...always as a defense mechanism. I look at the headlines: War, Murder...all effects of this emotion. And as young people, some find that they must return to this emotion when they find no other obvious solution.

Forgiveness. Loyalty. These are emotions I'd rather see as a "common theme".

I'm currently watching a Super Sweet Sixteen knock-off with Emily and Jerry about parents who get fed up with their spoiled ex-Super Sweet Sixteeners and send them on "Exile". In the one I'm watching now, they send her to a village in Kenya near the Tanzania border. When she arrives, they show a video her shocked face watching the natives do their traditional dance. While horror-movie music plays.

This is doing wonders for my reverse culture shock.

I'm switching to Family Guy.

....






P.S. I was about 5 minutes away from walking out the door with my shirt on inside-out this morning. All these changes made this particular first day feel like a new start. Clearly I was nervous to the point where I couldn't dress myself.

Beginning of the end

This is the last first day of classes ever. I'm not too pumped about being a Senior. Everyone keeps telling me that after Junior year, it's all down hill. Well, screw them. This is going to be the best year ever and no one is going to stop me.

Since I've been back from Morocco, I can't help but notice the differences. Many of my friends from last year graduated and moved on. The Water Ski team is struggling to figure things out while we sit in fairly large debt with the University. The EBD program seems to have halted, and I'm not sure how to proceed...or if I even want to. It would be nice to be stress free... Even my apartment has changed - all new furniture, and back with my roommates from Freshman year! And through all this, I'm still jet-lagged.

All the things that seemed to make me happy last year - friends that I had who have left, water skiing, my AIESEC work...have shifted or are gone in some way. I guess I have to find new things to make me happy. Of course, I'm a changed woman, so I think this is a good thing?

"Obama! Why would you want to vote for him?" I heard my little sister proclaim over the phone. One subject touched upon during our first conversation in 3 months was the election.

Wanting insight into the mind of a 16 year old attending my alma mater, Lima Central Catholic, aka the most wasteful 4 years of education of all time (with the exception of my English and ONE of the 5 math teachers I had in 4 years), I answered, "Why not?"

"His name rhymes with Osama."

And......?

"He wants to stop the war. If that happens, the terrorists will bomb the U.S. and he'll be happy."

Who's educating these kids? Certainly not my parents...though we have our political disagreements, they have more compelling arguments than "his name rhymes with Osama"

Voyage from Hell

I'm finally back in the U.S! Jetlagged? Absolutely. Relieved? Completely. Culture shock? Yes.

Getting here, though, was the trip from hell. On the way to Morocco I was allowed 100 lbs of luggage. Coming back, I was only allowed 20 kgs. Someone tell me how that makes sense... I left all of my clothes and souvenirs with Rachid to be shipped sometime in the near future, and on a bright Thursday morning, we made our way to Casablanca for my flight 2:40pm flight.

When we arrived at the airport, I looked at the clock and saw that it was 1pm. WHAT?! My inner control freak tensed up. Only an hour and a half to get through security, check-in, and customs? Impossible. Never going to happen, especially not in Morocco. My fears were affirmed when I saw the line for check-in. At least 100 people waited impatiently in two lines, while two incredibly slow attendants manned the check-in counters. After half an hour, we hadn't moved. I verbally mentioned that maybe if they opened another counter, this might move a little more quickly (seeing as there were actually 4 women standing behind the 2 counters. Very efficient.) As if they were listening to me, another line opened and we quickly went to it. Of course, we had to fight the old, rude old Moroccan women who think they own the world (several examples of such to come), but we got a spot in line and after another hour, we were up next.

I'll keep you waiting for a bit while I talk about old Moroccan women. No where on earth is there a more foul, rude, frustrating creature than the old Moroccan woman. They're horrifying, judgmental, and impossible to deal with. They think no rules apply to them. Lines in Morocco, in general, seem to be nonexistent. If you're not paying attention, they will step in front of you and give you a nasty look if you protest. At one of the train stations, there were three of these such demons standing such that they blocked an entire stairwell. Rachid and I were trying to get up said stairwell with two large suitcases, a backpack, and a couple other bags. When Rachid asked them to move, they ignored him, turned around and stood in their place. It wasn't until we dropped one of the bags and it fell down the flight of stairs, almost hitting a child on the way that they scattered. Like devils, these women are. I make up for it though, by wearing short sleeve shirts on 100 degree days while they're stuck in their djellabas and head scarves, and occasionally kissing my boyfriend in front of them. Ha.

So here I am, waiting next in line at the ticket counter. There are still about 50 people behind me in line. I look up at the screen, and am shocked to watch it change from 14:20 - EASYJET: MADRID to 16:30 - JET4YOU: PARIS ORLY. I try to calm down. The woman in front of me is being checked in for Madrid. She must check me in to. But no. I walk up to the ticket counter and am told to leave because they are now checking people for a flight that's leaving in 2 hours. We try to tell them that we've been waiting for 2 hours, but this is to no avail. We are asked to get in the back of this still ridiculously long line.

So to the back we go, grumbling all the way. The line is still growing, and the counter women are still ungodly slow. I'm talking, typing with one finger, chatting and laughing amongst themselves slow. It is now 2:40pm, and the flight is supposed to leave now. It can't, though, because these idiots still haven't checked in half the fliers. I often wonder, when having to deal with a person in the airline industry who does their job poorly, if they realize that they're holding up the entire world. This one flight leaving late makes people late to their next flights, and makes this flight late for those flying on it next. Hey morons. You're keeping loved ones from each other. You're making people late for meetings. Pick up the pace.

When we think things couldn't be worse, they merge the two lines. All hell breaks loose. The forementioned old Moroccan women start gnashing their teeth and making their way to the front. Because, of course, they deserve it. People are yelling at each other. A fight breaks out. I kid you not, it's insanity. I look at two Americans standing next to me and we comment about how we've never seen anything like this in our lives. I'm honestly fearing for my life.

Finally I check in, and have to run to customs. The goodbye I've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and it has to be quick. I've never done anything so emotionally difficult in my life as say goodbye to Rachid. He's been my best friend, my rock, and my love for months, and now I won't see him for 4 months. As I walked through customs, I was bawling and choking on my tears.

While I was waiting in line for customs (still crying), an old Moroccan women decides it's her right to change lines, get in front of me (I'm next) and go to the customs guard. The guard looks at me, shrugs his shoulders, smiles, and takes her passport. A mix of emotions causes me to start bawling harder. The customs officer looks confused, thinking he made me cry for something very silly, and when it's my turn to go through, he quickly stamps my passport and lets me go. Good. Asshole.

The flight to Madrid was uneventful. I fought back tears most of the time, embarrassed because I was sitting next to two businessmen. When I arrived, my hysteria led me to take the wrong bus, and I had to take 3 different buses to get to the correct terminal. Luckily I scheduled a 5 hour layover, which I thought was excessive at the time, but it ended up being just right. I even had time to enjoy my first McDonalds in several years. After accidentally speaking French to the cashier, I wolfed down a 1/4 lb with cheese and a large fry. It was disgusting. I'm pretty sure people running to their planes stopped and stared and me. Again, and uneventful flight and I was in Paris by 1:30am, and in my hotel room by 2.

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful. I made it home on Friday evening around 8:30, got picked up by my mom at the airport and taken back to school. I spent time with my mom and my sister, and then my mom left to go home.

Being home brings on some mixed feelings. It feels strange. I'm jetlagged so I've been laying around and trying to relax and organize my life, and I plan on going out with my roommates tonight. My life has changed dramatically from the moment I walked out the door of my apartment to the moment I walked in last night. I have different roommates this year than I did last year, but I live in the same apartment, so the furniture is completely different. It's very bizarre. All in all, I'm so glad to be back in my homeland.

I win

And they're naked, too

in an absolut world

Leave it to an alcohol company to make a freaking awesome ad:

In an absolut world
we question everything
we challenge assumptions
and defy conventions
because that's the first step
in making things better

In an absolut world
reality is only a starting point
the last stop before imagination takes over
as we creat a new world
as ideal and inspired as our vodka

In an absolut world
it's not about right or wrong
only what if and why not?
we never claim the last word
we only begin the conversation

In an absolut world
justice is always poetic
optimism is our point of view
wit and style are the means to an end
and everything is as carefully crafted
as what we put in our bottles

In an absolut world

Happiness is only real when shared

The other night I watched Into the Wild, which is by far one of the most inspirational movies I've seen in a very long time. If you don't know, the story recounts the life of Christopher McCandless, who, after graduating from college, decides to give society a big ol' F U, donates his savings to charity, and goes off "into the wild" with no money, supplies, or plans. He travels under the name Alexander Supertramp. Watching the movie almost fulfilled my dream of exploring the world free of material goods.

Two years he walks the earth. No phone, no pool, no pets, no cigarettes. Ultimate freedom. An extremist. An aesthetic voyager whose home is the road. Escaped from Atlanta. Thou shalt not return, 'cause "the West is the best." And now after two rambling years comes the final and greatest adventure. The climactic battle to kill the false being within and victoriously conclude the spiritual pilgrimage. Ten days and nights of freight trains and hitchhiking bring him to the Great White North. No longer to be poisoned by civilization he flees, and walks alone upon the land to become lost in the wild. - Alexander Supertramp May 1992

This movie has inspired me to change the name of my blog to Happiness is Only Real When Shared. I think it really speaks for how I want my internet space to be seen.

I'm going to paraphrase Thoreau here... rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness... give me truth.

If you haven't seen this film yet, please, go to your nearest Netflix queue, Blockbuster, or your friendly neighborhood DVD pirater. It will be worth it.

Bavaria! Bavaria! Bavaria!

Finally, Im going to write about my time in Munich. I know youve been holding your breathe so its time to release a sigh and read.

The train ride to Munich was uneventful. I sent an email to Anne, who I was staying with while in Munich, saying what time Id be leaving and arriving at the train station. I didnt have time to read my email before I left, so I didnt know if shed be there to meet me. But sure enough, there she was, waving at me when I got off the platform!

Some background on how I know Anne: When I was little, we had 4 years of 4 au pairs. Anne was number 2, lucky enough to know me at ages 11 and 12. At this time, she was 19 - younger than I am right now! My memories include her taking us to karate class, soccer practice, and horse back riding lessons. Thats about it. I try to repress memories of my childhood (just kidding mom). I was worried that when I arrived at the train station she a) wouldnt be there or b) wouldnt recognize me. Turns out I havent changed much in 10 years. Bummer.

Anne had taken off work for an hour to pick me up and take her to her apartment, which Im pretty sure I wouldnt have been able to find on my own, regardless of the excelent directions she emailed me. After setting up camp next to her couch, she said she needed to return to work and I was free to do as I pleased. Map of Munich in hand, and after an orgasmic pitstop at Starbucks, I trotted off the the English Gardens. If you havent been yet, these gardens are gorgeous. I walked next to the Residanz, rested in a gazeebo where a cellist played over a tape of an orchestra (definitely earning the 5 euro I gave him), strolled past some swans, watched in amazement as surfers braved a wave in the manmade river that goes through the gardens, and sat for a long, relaxing hour in the grass. If it hadnt been for the 80 year old naked man I spotted sunbathing near me, this afternoon would have been perfect.

I went back to Anns apartment and waited for her to return so we could make dinner. Mind you, she has the entire series of Friends, so I wasnt bored. Over dinner and later, drinks (can you imagine drinking with your babysitter? yeah, it was fun) I caught her up on 10 years of my life. It consisted mostly of my future plans and dreams, which I found aligned with a lot of her adventures (i.e. world travel) but it was definitely fun. After a few more episodes of Friends we went to bed.

The next day I woke up early in order to catch the free walking tour of Munich. It was incredible, and definitely one of the highlights of my trip. The tour guides work only for tips so they throw a lot of personality into the tours. My tour guide, Emily from Australia, was hilarious. Her stories of the history of Munich brought me to laughter and tears. Im not kidding. I didnt realize there was so much history in this city. Its a city of beer, Nazis, beer, beer, and more beer. Oh, and Jager. I saw the Glockenspiel, which made the list for one of the most overrated tourist attractions in Europe. It mainly consists of puppets moving around to music. We walked the streets where drunkards have walked for decades, saw one of the best breweries in the world, and even saw places that have impacted history: the town hall where Hitler ordered Kristalnaught, the beer hall where he made his first propoganda, the intersection where his first overthrow attempt of the German government was thrwarted. During a break in our tour, I headed straight for the Starbucks along with two other Americans, Eric and Marissa. Brother and sister from Connecticut, we became fast friends over our coffees and ended up spending the rest of the day together, even after the tour, exploring Munich.

After the tour, Emily invited us to go to a bar where the tour guides get free beers and stew, but we got to pay 6 euro for a beer and a bowl of stew, which was more than enough to satisfy me. We talked to a lot of the guides about their experiences. It mostly consisted of: I wanted to spend some time abroad so I packed up, arrived in Munich, heard about the tours, and here I am. From the sound of it, they go out together every night and theyre the best of friends - and even though they have to give 25 percent of their tips to the company, they get by. Doesnt sound half bad...

After that rousing conversation, Marissa, Eric and I set out to explore more of the city. We found a monument at the university that Emily had talked about in memory of students who were working towards Nazi Resistance. Afterwards we took another stroll through the gardens, watched the surfers some more, got Hofbrauhaus beer and pretzels at a beer garden and stole a stein, got one of those funny Bavarian hats which I embarassingly wore around for the rest of the day, and even stopped at the Aston Martin store to look at the cars. They had to go to Paris so I said goodbye.

That night me and Anne went out to an Australian bar with her roommates, but I was tired so I didnt really get into it too much. The next morning I left for Paris, and the rest of my trip consisted of waiting for my train to arrive and trying to decipher what the French news was saying about the Olympic games.

In short, my trip to Europe was amazing, and even though I had money problems it was totally worth it. I saw people that I hadnt seen for years, made new friends, and reconnected with old. I cant wait until next time!

Ill leave this post with a quote from a song that I listened to a lot when I was on trains and walking around cities:

¨This is our decision to live fast and die young. We have a vision, now lets have some fun¨
MGMT Time to Pretend

Biggest bummer ever...

In the form of a message I just received from Kamil:

Hi guys,

I just got an email from David Pinkus saying he needs American/European looking extras for the movie Green Zone. It will be shot again in Rabat.If you wanna earn some money and had a movie adventure contact him at -------@aol.com (or thru Facebook - David Pinkus in my contacts). Send him your Moroccan number and a few words about yourself (especially how you look).If you know anyone interested don't hesitate to pass them David's contact.I wish I could be in Rabat now. Thanks to the money earned in March in this movie, I could drink and party in Rabat for more than 3 months:)
ask David for more details.good luck and wish you as cool movie experience as I had.
Kamil

This could have been my road to stardom

You dont own me

This message showed up on my Facebook notifications today:
A_____ L_____ now owns you as a pet! You were bought for $556, earning you $25 in profit.

I wasnt aware that I was for sale?

Inspiration for your Friday

I want to apologize to those who are waiting for the conclusion to my Europe story, but youre going to have to wait a little longer. Im still in Morocco wasting time until I depart next Thursday, and I just dont have any reason to procrastinate.

Because its time for another inspirational quote from one of the best sports movies ever to grace American cinema: Cool Runnings!

Yul Brenner: Look in the mirror, and tell me what you see!
Junior Bevill: I see Junior.
Yul Brenner: You see Junior? Well, let me tell you what I see. I see pride! I see power! I see a bad-ass mother who don't take no crap off of nobody!

If that doesnt inspire you, I dont know what will!

Enjoy the rest of the Olympics folks, and dont forget to cheer on the USA as well as our Rasta friends. Too bad theres another 2 years until the Winter Games.

Reignition

After over 24 hours of having very little money, I finally got a wire transfer from my mom! Reignite Eurotrip August 2008!

I'm leaving for Munich tomorrow morning where I will stay until Saturday when I have to go back to Paris to catch my flight back to Morocco. My time in Essen has been relaxing - I have done nothing over the last two days except sit in front of the computer, send and answer emails regarding my unfortunate situation, and try to re-plan my trip. Trevor has been at work the last couple days, and since I don't know ANY German, I've been nervous to venture out to the streets, lest I get lost in my penniless state. In between I have been watching a lot of Gossip Girl as well. Needless to say, I can add another tv show to the list of those I'm addicted to. I went to Europe and watched a (addicting) tv show. How lame am I? Oh well...I'm basking in the awesomeness of high-speed internet, which Morocco does not offer.

This has also given me a chance to catch up with old friends. I never have the chance in Morocco to catch friends up on my life, because I'm always running around doing things or spending time with friends there. I miss my support system, and I can't wait to go home to them.

Working for Change

Wishing I was in Madison right now, fighting the good fight and creating the future for AIESEC U.S...

For now, all I can do is follow the blog and stay connected to all my friends who are working so hard.

Change agents, indeed.

Assen >< Essen

On Monday morning Joris and I woke up at the ridiculous hour of 6:30am. He got ready for work and I got ready to head out to Essen! I quickly packed my things and rode on the back of his bike to Amsterdam Centraal. After saying a (too) quick goodbye, I went to the international desk to buy a ticket to Essen. I got my ticket, which said ASSEN on it, but just assumed that was the Dutch way to spell Essen. Turns out, I was wrong.

I got on the train and two hours later, I arrived in Assen. I saw a bunch of bikes locked up next to the station, and thought..."Uh oh. This doesn't look good. I think I'm still in Holland." Sure enough, I looked at a map and I had gone two hours in the OPPOSITE DIRECTION of Essen. After calling Trevor, who was supposed to be meeting me at the train station, to tell him that I'm an idiot and went to the wrong Ass/Essen. At 3:30pm, after another train delay, I arrived in the right Essen.

I met Trevor and we went to his apartment to wait for his roommate Robert, who was out shopping. I drank a large bottle of beer. When he got back, we headed to Dusseldorf, which was a nice 30 minute train ride. But not without a bottle of beer. I love Germany, and the fact that you can drink pretty much everywhere (even on the trains!) However, on the train, I sat next to a woman who I'm pretty sure was Moroccan, which was an awkward reminder of where I've been all summer.

When we got off the train I realized I was starving, so we walked to the old part of town to get food and more beer. None other than Stover met up with us at this restaurant. I proceeded to make an American fool of myself by getting really tired and putting my head down on the table. Hey, I got up at 6:30am and I was really tired! The waiter asked them to bring me home to sleep, but they wanted to drink more so they didn't. I woke up and started playing with the candle on the table by putting little pieces of paper in there and watching them burn up. One of them got out of control, and I accidentally burned Robert, who then spilled his beer all over everyone. The waiter wasn't pleased with me, to say the least, and immediately brought us the bill and we left.

We began walking around the now-dark Dusseldorf. It's a beautiful city with a lot of really cool architecture. I understand why Stover has spent 6 months there. We got a couple more beers (well, I got an ice cream) and went to sit and talk on the bridge. Me and Stover had a lot of catching up to do, and we had a really great conversation. Eventually, we had to leave and I said goodbye to Stover and headed back to Essen.

I've started to realize that it's getting to the point in my life where if I say goodbye to someone, I'm not sure if I'll ever see them again. Stover's going to be back in Cincinnati in the fall, of course...but it was still a really depressing realization to come to. It's even more difficult when you're living abroad. "I'll visit you someday in Poland" doesn't have exactly the same meaning as "I'll visit you one day in Washington, DC"

Of course, when I woke up this morning to go to Munich, I realized I don't have my credit or debit cards. So now I'm in Essen for an indeterminate amount of time, until my mom can wire me money. I managed to go to the Chinese place down the street and use my excellent "point and wave money" skills to get some excellent Chinese food (it doesn't compare to Mark Pi's, but I can't really complain), there's a ton of beer in the fridge, and I have internet and a warm place to sleep. It could be worse.

I Skyped Michael this morning, and it sounds like things aren't looking too great with the whole getting paid for our traineeship thing. It's really frustrating because we worked so hard this summer for our students, and now, even though I had a great experience in Morocco, I'm seeing the truth behind the way things work in the country. It's frustrating because in the U.S. and other developed countries, there's a hierarchy. If your boss refuses to pay you after all the work you do, you can go to the police, or the Chamber of Commerce, or another form of management. You have time slips and proof of the work that you did. Apparently in Morocco this is not the case, and I feel very stuck. We've asked AIESEC Morocco to help us, and I'm sure they have more important things to deal with than 6 trainees that aren't getting paid for their work, but I wish it was more of a priority for them. Most of us have left the country - I'm going back in 5 days and will for sure be fighting for every dirham, but Cassie, Liz, and Kate are all gone.

In short: I have money issues.

So THIS is what a screeching halt sounds like...

Back to current times for a bit...my credit card and debit card were stolen somewhere between Amsterdam and where I am now (Trevor's apartment in Essen, Germany).

Looks like I might be staying a little longer than expected.

My mom is going to wire me money, but this SUCKS. My Eurotrip is probably coming to a halt... :(

Does anyone know someone in Paris I could stay with?

I Don't Want Your Stupid Dutch Candy

I need to start writing less than 5 days after things happen, because when I wait, memories seem to slide into oblivion. Since when do I have memory loss problems? Please, keep your comments to yourselves.

On Thursday morning I packed the last of my things, said my goodbyes to the Americans, and promised I'd visit them all (except for Peter, because he goes to Colby and I'm never going to be in Maine. But that's ok because he's going to come to Ohio). I loved them all and even though I came to Morocco to explore a different culture, it was an amazing opportunity to share it with great friends from my own country. And we're from all parts of the U.S. (and Canada), so that put a little spin on things ;)

Hicham and Sophia drove me, Rachid, and Linda to the airport. I was going with Linda and Inger to Marrakech because they were leaving for their Saharan expedition the next day, and I was flying from the airport there. I walked around the Djemaa el Fna one last time, and spent a lot of time talking to Rafael's parents, who were awesome! I got my last taste of Morocco when a guy gave me a balloon "as a gift" and then asked for money for it. Standard, Marrakech. Standard.

We woke up bright and early and Friday and I said my goodbyes to Rafael, his parents, Linda and Inger, and got a taxi to the airport. The plane to Paris was late, and I bought a small airplane bottle of wine for myself once we took off. Three hours later I landed in Paris, but once I found the station that goes to Amsterdam, I was too late for the train so I ended up having to wait two hours in the station. I went to the pharmacy and bought tampons (sorry guys who are reading this. I know. Tampons. Ew.) because they don't have them in Morocco. Finally, I got on the train to Amsterdam after calling Joris to tell him when I was going to arrive (10:30pm!!!) I was exhausted, and luckily Joris was too, so we went home by the scenic route so I could see the canals and the pretty lights. I love how me and Joris can go months without seeing each other, and then BAM, we're right back to having great conversations about everything. We stayed up really late talking, which sucked because we had to get up really early the next morning because the girl who was subletting his room came to get her things.

After showering and waiting for Monique, we made our way to the Gay Pride Parade! It was gay pride weekend in Amsterdam, so there were lots of festivities, including this parade that featured over 80 boats! Each boat had a float that included half naked dancing guys wearing glitter, LOTS of queens in drag, and even a couple boats full of lesbians! One of my favorite boats had underage people on it, and the next boat had their parents with signs like "We support our children!" It was really cool to see parents like that, supporting their children no matter what. A lot of companies had their own boats which was really cool as well. I wish stuff like that would happen in the U.S. without an uproar occurring. We drank a bottle of wine while watching the parade. That wouldn't be allowed either.

After the parade was over we went to get food, but the mixture of pizza and wine in my belly made me very sleepy, so we went back to Joris' place to take a nap. A half hour nap turned into a 2.5 hour nap, so we got ready and went to Joris' friend's apartment for a party. It turned out we didn't really know anyone, so we didn't stay long, which we felt bad about. But, I wasn't feeling too well, so I'm glad we left. We got home and (obvi) talked more before going to bed.

The next morning we got to sleep in, which was lovely. Joris slept an hour longer than me but it gave me time to get up, shower, and get ready. After getting my first REAL cup of coffee in over 2 months, we started walking around the city just randomly and talking. He showed me a lot of squares that are really big tourist attractions, and the Iamsterdam sign. We wanted to go to the Heineken factory, but it was closed for renovation. We did not have the Heineken experience. We stopped for cokes and talked for about 2 hours about our lives and some commonalities we have with our parent situations. It's always really interesting when you discover this about someone else. We also realized it was our "anniversary" (exactly a year after last year's Summer Conference) and celebrated that fact. We then took a walk through the Red Light District, which was really interesting and weird during the day time. Much despite Joris' urging, I didn't go into any of the rooms with the ladies. Just kidding...about the urging part, anyways. While walking around the oldest church in Amsterdam (also in the Red Light District), we saw that you could go up in the tower and get a view of the city. We did so for 6 Euro, and it was amazing. You could see everything. We got some really good pictures, climbed back down (scary!) and went to meet Joris' sister for dinner.

Joris and I went home after this. I checked my facebook and saw that Brett S. had written on my wall, "You were in Amsterdam? I got back an hour ago!" I found out by stalking his blog that he lives in Dusseldorf, which is right next to Essen, where I would be going the next day to visit Trevor! Furthermore, Trevor was planning on taking me to Dusseldorf to get drinks! I sent Brett way too many messages in a short amount of time because I was so excited that I might possibly see him!

Next, the fun began. First Joris and I laughed for about 30 mins straight. About nothing. Then we told "that's what she said" jokes for most of the night and had really deep conversations that I don't remember at all. It was all very wonderful though. The perfect end to a perfect weekend in Amsterdam. Sure, it was raining the whole time (which was actually nice because I didn't see rain at all in Morocco all summer) and sure, we didn't do crazy things like go to a club, or museums or anything, but Joris is just one of those people that I'll always be able to connect with no matter what we're doing.

Amsterdam in general was just an amazing city and I loved it. Everyone rides their bikes, which is super cool. Instead of a parking lot at the train station, they have a bike tower. Also, the fact that they could have such an amazing show of support for that community is nothing that would happen in the U.S. at this time, and it makes me really jealous. Everything I learned about Morocco from Joris was really cool as well.

The only thing I didn't like was the candy. Licorice. Gross.

Coming soon: My trip to Essen, Germany. Will Caitie see Brett? Will she get lost on the train and end up in Assen, Holland instead of Essen, Germany? Stay tuned to find out...

The Oudaya - My 4rd Home

I woke up on Thursday morning, depressed that this would be my last day in Rabat and in the Oudaya. The Oudaya has definitely become a place where I feel comfortable. In Essaouira, I had a conversation with Kate and Lindsay about our "homes." When I thought about it, I was amazed to discover that I actually have 4 homes. My first home is Oxford, Ohio - the place where most of my best friends are, where I've spent the last 3 years studying, partying, and living my life. My second home is Lima, Ohio - where my parents live and where I spent my high school years, trying my best to stay out of trouble. My third home is New York City - where I spent an entire summer getting lost and getting found, making some of the best friends I've ever had, and working in the center of the universe. My fourth home is indisputably the Oudaya in Rabat. I wrote this on the train ride from Rabat to Marrakech:

Now begins my trip to Europe, and the beginning of the end of my summer abroad. So much has changed since I entered this country. I find myself a changed person - much less selfish, much more patient and understanding about a lot of things. This probably has a lot to do with the relationship I have with Rachid, living in a house with people of up to 6 different cultures and backgrounds, living in a country where I don't speak the languages, treavling to cities where the residents seem to live only to rip foreigners off, and so on. In some sense, I'm going back to the real world. On the other hand, I'm leaving the only world I've known for months. When I return to Morocco, I will live with Rachid in Kenitra - never again in the Oudaya. Yesterday a bunch of French people moved into the house. I don't think they know what a gift has been handed to them, being able to live in a house full of memories and haunted by ghosts of great friends who graced the rooms over the last few months. Memories of laughter, constant music, sharing and creating fod, welcoming complete strangers with open arms, waking up to all the couches filled with partiers who didn't make it home the night before, waking up for the first time next to the man who would become the love of my life. Someone commented recently on the collection of liquor bottles on the shelf above the stove. Each of those bottles is not in fact empty, but full of the laughter and love and drama it created. The bottle of vodka that Rachid and I did God knows how many shots of before we ended up making out in the kitchen, forgot to eat dinner, and most of the bottle ended up on the roof. The bottle that Hicham drank the night me and Lindsay were ashamed of our boyfriends for being such idiots and drunkards, even though it was just for Romain's going-away party. The bottles the night of the 20's party where new friends were made and old friendships strengthened.

I pray that the house continues to be welcoming, a place where strangers become friends and friends become lovers. A place where a plate of food and a bottle of vodka and several people turns into an AIESEC dance party and a 2am trip to the kitchen to whip up more food for our aching, alcohol filled stomachs. A place to get lost in a conversation about nothing and then fall giggling on the floor. A place of surprise birthday parties and gifts, where cultures are not only shared - they're experienced. A place of love. Oh sure, a place of drama...but in the end, LOVE.

Election in Ohio

I'm interrupting my story to bring you an article I found in the Economist regarding the election and my homestate, Ohio. They're doing a series on swing states. In every election, Ohio is a huge factor in who wins, and has voted for the winner in the last 11 elections - since 1960. This year will be no exception. Ohio represents "average America." In a quote from the article:

Ohio is a surprisingly diverse state—with everything from big cities to rolling fields, rustbelt industries to Appalachian poverty. In the Cup-o-Jo Cafe in Columbus, the state capital, 20-somethings sit around eating vegetarian food and talking about how much Mr Obama inspires them to hope for a better world. Out in the rural areas the signs on the road tell a different story—“Hell is real,” reads one, and then, a few miles later, “Repent!”.

Granted, Ohio voted Republican in the last two elections. But a lot has changed since then. Under the Bush administration, 236,000 manufacturing jobs were lost in our state alone. Workers are worried about health care, as unemployment climbs. In 2006, Ohio became officially "blue" when Ted Strickland easily won the governorship, and Sherrod Brown unseated a senator.

There are concerns about Obama connecting with the white blue-collar workers in the Cleveland-Akron area, and the fact that Clinton easily won the state in the primaries. However, many argue that this was due to outstanding support for Hilary, and not necessarily anti-support for Obama. Polls contradict themselves in whether the state is supporting Obama or McCain, but this is the way it is nationwide.

McCain should definitely be wary of Ohio. While the Democrats can still win the election without the electoral votes, no Republican has ever won an election without Ohio's support.

Read more about Ohio's demographics and how they might vote in this article.

Last Days in Rabat

A lot has happened in the last few days so I have lots to write about. I'm going to split it up for your reading pleasure. I know I don't have the patience or the attention span to read long, long blog posts.

First, my last days in Rabat. On Tuesday I taught my last class and said goodbye to my students. They were the only thing that made my job standable. We had exchanged email addresses, and I made them promise to get in contact with me. They want me to come back to Morocco next summer to teach them again, but we'll see. If I were to do that, I'd teach them privately, and not through the school.

I woke up Wednesday on a mission. It was a Moroccan holiday - a day to honor the King - so there were lots of people around. We went to hammam in the morning. Cassie, Kate, Liz, Linda and I had no idea what we were doing, so we were really glad when Sophia decided to join us. Even Rachid and Hicham got in on the fun and went to the men's hammam. We went to Rachid's cousin's hammam, so we got in free :) We didn't have any of the necessary items so we had to buy them in a shop right outside.

Entering the hammam, we found ourselves in a locker room-looking place. In describing this I'm going to try to make it sound as little like a porno as possible. We all stripped down to our underwear (or in my case, my bathing suit bottoms), put all our soaps and other mysterious items in a bucket, and followed a naked lady into the hammam. I'm pretty sure this is one of two professions where you can work naked. We sat down on the floor, and looked around. This place looked like we were in a sewer, ninja turtles style. And it was hot, hot hot! As hot as a sauna. They started pouring hot buckets of water over our heads, which felt really good. Sophia had clearly asked one of the women to take special care of us. We rubbed this special oily Moroccan soap on us, and then we were literally manhandled as the woman used the most intense loofa of all time to scrub off all our dead skin. Which, since we're never been to hammam - was a lot. After that, we washed our hair and put another special Moroccan mixture in it, then washed it out. We probably spent about a couple hours total in the hammam, and by the time we were finished, I was thirsty because I'd sweat so much. There was a bucket of colder water that felt really good when I poured it on myself. We all warmed up in towels, and left. Definitely the most cultural experience I've had in Morocco.

We went back to the house and I started packing a little, but the clothes that I had washed the day before and left out to dry weren't completely dry. That is, the clothes I didn't want to bring to Europe weren't dry and the ones I wanted to leave were. Go figure. I put together most of the non-clothes things. I decided I only wanted to bring a backpack for the 10 days I'd be in Europe, so I was limited on the things I could bring. I've packed for so many weekend trips lately though, that I'm used to traveling with limited space. I was getting stressed out with all I had to do, so I took a break at the cafe by the beach and got some lunch.

I went back to the house to plan my itinerary, (which has changed since), and is as follows (I sent this in an email to my mom and my aunt):

Thursday July 31: Travel to Marrakech sometime in the afternoon. Get a hotel with my friend Rafael and his family, Linda and Inger.
Friday Aug 1: 9:45am flight to Paris Orly. With assumed difficulty, find the RER Line C to Gare Paris Austerlitz and get the train to Amsterdam. If I arrive before 7:30pm, my friend Joris is picking me up from the train station, and if not, he has given me directions to his house.
Friday-Sunday: Enjoy Gay Pride Weekend in Amsterdam in the most legal way possible.
Sunday afternoon/evening: Train to Essen, Germany to meet my friend Trevor. Spend the next couple days enjoying German beer.
Tuesday: Go to Munich and stay at Anne's (our old au pair) apartment. Drink more German beer.
Friday morning: Train to Prague. Can I get beer on the train? Meet my friend Sarah and several other AIESECers. Drink beer. [Instead of Prague, I'm going to Toulouse because I wouldn't be able to spend more than a night and a morning in Prague. And with all the traveling it takes to get there, it just wouldn't be worth it. Instead, I'm visiting Romain in Toulouse. I'll try to drink beer, I promise]
Saturday afternoon: Train back to Paris in time for my Sunday 6:30am flight back to Morocco. They don't have much beer in Morocco. They do, however, have lots of tea. And Muslims.

By the time I finished planning everything to a tee, and arranging a hotel in Marrakech (Rafael and his family, along with Linda and Inger were going on a Sahara trip the next day so I decided to join them in Marrakech and stay at their hotel), Rachid had gone to the Medina and come back with bags of vegetables, meat, and spices to make a delicious tajine. I wasn't in the mood for a huge party, but had told everyone the day before that my final wish was for everyone to make a tajine together - just like the old days, in the communist house. Rachid made the 2 most amazing tajines I've ever had. It was very spicy, which some people didn't like, but I love spicy foods and it added so much to the tajine. For the rest of the night, we sat around and hung out and goofed off. Around 9:30 we heard explosions, and went up to the roof to see one of the most amazing fireworks displays I've ever seen. I kept thinking to myself that this show probably cost more than your average Moroccan makes in a lifetime...but it was beautiful. I was so happy to have such an awesome send-off, even though it was for the King, not me.

Until...

Hicham couldn't find the money they had collected to pay It was over 1000 dirhams. The only people who weren't us who had been in the house were some new French people who just moved in, and our students from the school. So, we started getting in arguments about who did it. Cassie, Michael and Kate, who taught them, knew they would never steal money. I wasn't so sure, and was upset that this house, that was always so sharing and open to strangers, now had a thief. Eventully, Hicham found his money in his bag, after about an hour of accusations and threats. We were relieved, but I think a lot of people were upset after that. It's a shame that it had to happen at my party. I said my goodbyes to Adil, Fouad and Soufiane, and went to sleep. I had planned on staying up all night with Rachid but I was exhausted from the stress of the day and full of tajine.