Part 2: International Civil Rights Museum

   "Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed." -Martin Luther King

   Before I left to go on this trip I happened to mention to my cousin that I was going to be in Greensboro. Coincidentally she had been there the night before and recommended that I go to the International Civil Rights Museum there. After I ate breakfast with my friend and dropped her off at the dorms, I decided to go. Downtown Greensboro was soo gorgeous on Saturday morning. It was sunny and warm for once and there were people everywhere walking around.

   Luckily enough, there was a tour about to start just when I bought my ticket. There was one guy there who was really driving me crazy. He was really short, highlighted hair, and wearing flashy clothes/ jewelry. That alone didn't mean anything, but he was flaunting and just being annoying for whatever reason. The tour was really amazing though.

   The International Civil Rights Museum actually has a historical significance. It is the site of the exact Woolworth's soda fountain that 'hosted,' so to speak, the first sit-in movement. Four African American boys that went to an agricultural technical college close by sat down at the whites only lunch counter and demanded to be served. When they weren't served they just sat there all day long. This sparked a movement throughout the nation, soon thousands of students, teachers, and community members were participating and even 'taking turns' sitting. The lunch counter, menus, cash registers, and everything else were still perfectly intact and untouched in the museum. It was really amazing.

   One of the most powerful parts of the museum is the Hall of Shame. It is located towards the beginning of the museum and contains large blown up photographs of shocking images. Each of the images is broken into different frames that resemble broken shards of glass. There were pictures of lynchings and even the picture of Emmett Till's (kidnapped, killed and thrown in a lake for whistling at a white woman) open casket.

   If anybody is ever in the area, I seriously recommend seeing the museum. It's really interesting and doesn't take but a little over an hour of your time. I ended up getting a postcard and t-shirt that says, "1960: Sit-In Movement," in large red letters. I'm really glad I went both because it was fun and I just happen to be moving into this chapter in my history class. (www.sitinmovement.org)
(Image credit: http://www2.warwick.ac.uk/fac/arts/cas/undergraduate/modules/am102a/course_timetable/seminar_wk20/sit-in.jpg)

Part 1: Winnie

   Since my last blog post was so epically long. I'm going to break this one into three based on subject matter. :)

   I left the house after school to start making my way towards Greensboro, North Carolina. I had my back pack full of clothes, my purse, and both the GPS and iPod radio velcroed to the dashboard. I had a few semi-minor issues with the car on the way, but those will be explained in part three. It was almost eight when I pulled up to a small restaurant in Greensboro. I called Winnie and said, "I think I'm here." I saw her get up from the table and start looking at the road. I locked the car, hung up, and yelled "Winnie!" We both screamed and hugged and teared up. I haven't seen her in seven months. Much much much too long in my opinion. I hadn't even seen anyone from the trip yet.
   Winnie goes to Harvard and she walked me around to the group of about fifteen students and introduced me. For their spring break this group of Harvard(ians?) were building a Habitat for Humanity house in Greensboro. I don't think that many of the group were American actually. I know some were from Canada, there was a girl from West Africa, and a boy from Palestine. (Which is awesome because I'm half-Palestinian) They were pretty much done eating by the time I got there and we all went to another restaurant for milkshakes, it was called Stamey's. Since I had a GPS the group bus followed me to our next destination-- Krispy Creme.
   This was a gigantic Krispy Creme donut shop. There was a glass window inside where you could see all the donuts on a conveyor belt being fried in hot oil and then covered in glaze. Everybody was going crazy taking pictures and cheering. And when a donut got messed up and the attendants threw them away there were disappointed awwwws. I think we bought three dozen donuts and they gave us all paper Krispy Creme hats. We walked around the rest of the night wearing them. After getting donuts the group split. Winnie and three others in my car to find Ed Mckay's book shop and the others in the bus to go back to the church they were staying at. But since it was past nine the bookstore had just closed and we were out of luck.
    We still made it back to the church way before the others, they had gotten semi-lost. It was so insane seeing Winnie, as it was proof that I hadn't conjured up the whole trip from my head. Which of course I don't believe, but it was awesome regardless. The church was huge, like four stories. The group had the youth lounge floor with a bunch of couches, foosball table, ping pong table, and there was even a room with couches and a projector for movies. I watched a bit of 'I Love You Man' with them (I've seen it before, it's funny) before the two of us went and sat on a couch in another room to talk and catch up.
    I went to my friend's apartment at 1:30 because they were waking up early to leave. I miss Winnie so much already. :( But I had a wonderful time.
   In the morning I woke up pretty early to go out to breakfast with my friend Sam. She went to my high school but is a freshman at UNCG. I did Teen Court with her for about 3 years. It took forever to find the Waffle House but my trusty GPS finally found it. :)
   Next weekend I have an AFS weekend and there is a possibility I'll get to see my friend Salman. Then the weekend after spring break I may get to see Nick. Which will be doubly amazing. (Image Credit: http://www.taquitos.net/dbimages-gallery13/KK-Cranston-hat.jpg)

I'm not a dot. Are you a dot?

"A blog is merely a tool that lets you do anything from change the world to share your shopping list."

I like the above quote and thought I'd share with you. I feel like this blog is as much to document my life for my own sake as it is to share/connect with anybody who may be interested. If you're reading out there, leave me a comment. Even if it's just a simple hello. :)

In my AP US history class we are studying the cold war. We played something called 'the dot game.' This is how it works: My teacher had a bunch of note cards folded in half. She passed them out- one per person. Each card had either a little dot or was blank. We had to look at the dot and put the card in our pocket without anybody looking. Then we had to stand up and start saying to each other, "I'm not a dot. Are you a dot?" Even if you had a dot, you didn't want anybody to know, so you had to lie. There was literally no way to tell who had a dot and who didn't. But we had to form groups with other people whom we thought didn't have dots. I had a blank card twice and didn't have trouble finding a group. The third game however I did have a dot and being a terrible liar I was kicked out of a few groups until a group felt sorry enough to let me in. Only to their demise of course, haha. At the end we talked about how the people with dots were communists (and talked about McCarthyism in general). What was so funny about the exercise was that it was a great example of how people were being accused of being communists. Many of people who actually were 'dots' were the most aggressive in accusing others. Many people were kicked out of groups with no evidence because others felt like they were dots. And also other people who had been dots in the first and second game were not trusted a third time, although the drawing of the cards was pure chance. These all paralleled how people were being accused of being communists with no evidence, how communists accused others of being communist, and how the general idea at the time was 'once a communist, always a communist'. The game was really fun and loud- nothing like a usual class period, but it also taught us a lot. I like history in reference to culture and people, but I have a hard time staying attentive when it comes to politics and government...

Monday night my ear started hurting me. At first I didn't think much about it but the pain kept getting worse and worse. I finally had to go to sleep for a few hours in order to stop thinking about the pain. And when I woke up, I couldn't hear out of it completely but the pain was gone. Tuesday I tried to go to the doctor at school but she was out of the office. After school I went to the learning center to volunteer. Every Tuesday I volunteer with a program called "Project March." It's an after school program for elementary school kids in low-income areas. I have been volunteering once or twice a week for about a month now and I absolutely love it. It feels really great to be able to help these kids with their homework and to give them the supportive/friendly environment they may not have at home. They had a field trip planned for Wednesday so we had their St. Patrick's day party Tuesday afternoon. When they got in from school we usually had a snack for them. This day we had green mashed potatoes, cucumbers, and green ranch dressing. They turned their noses up and said, "Ewww Miss Rhonda, what is that?" The other adults and I told them it was snot and boogers. When they finally tried it and realized the truth they thought it was so much fun. After their homework time we had them paint with two colors of green paint on green construction paper and use only green materials. Other than that there were no rules. The kid's ages range from about 6-10. Since I had had so much fun playing with green with the kids I went to Walmart that night and bought food coloring, a cookie cutter in the shape of a flower (I searched vainly for a shamrock :( ), green sprinkles, and green frosting. I made adorable green colored sugar cookies and decorated them.

Wednesday I brought the cookies and was able to split them in half with my AP English/ AP US History class and my Spanish 2. I'm pretty sure that everybody liked them. :) I was able to find the doctor and she told me that I had ruptured my ear drum and that it wasn't as serious as it sounded- it would heal itself. I went with the kids on their field trip to the Health Center. They had an exhibit about Clifford. The kids ran wild everywhere. There was a giant statue of Clifford (he's a dog from a kids tv show if you didn't know), an area that modeled a restaurant where the kids could serve 'fake food,' and mailboxes with laminated letters they could pick up and deliver. They had a lot of fun and I had fun watching them. I got two really awesome letters from an organization called AFS. I traveled abroad on a scholarship from NSLI (Department of State) and AFS last summer. I spent six weeks with a host family learning Arabic in Cairo, Egypt. I'll post a longer blog about that sometime. I've had a lot of opportunities with AFS. About a month ago I have a speech at a national exchange programs conference about my experience and how it effected me. One of the emails asked me if I would be interviewed over the phone about my experience. They would use the 'testimony' for a letter that gets sent to 14,000 people asking for donations to AFS. The other email asked me to volunteer about an hour a week for the next 6-8 weeks helping out new applicants and teaching them about AFS. I accepted both. I was online Wednesday night on this website called formspring. On it people can ask you anonymous questions and you can answer back or delete them. I received one that said, "Can you hook me up with your brother." I'm not at all surprised, my brother is quite the lady killer. ;) My English homework was to read Jonathon Swift's "A Modest Proposal." It's a pamphlet written in the 1700's, a satire piece. In it it suggests that in order to solve the crises in Ireland that year old babies should be killed for food for the rich and their skin could be used for clothing. It was horrible but obviously a piece of satire. It made fun of Irish politicians and criticized England. We have to write our own modest proposals solving a problem in school.

Last night I kept waking up over and over this time because my OTHER ear was hurting. This was twice as bad as when the first was hurting. When I got up I decided to still go to school but go to the doctor first. At my school there is a school nurse but also a nurse practitioner that acts like a regular doctor. Of course she wasn't there so I decided to just leave and go home. The pain didn't let up all day, I couldn't sleep and couldn't concentrate on anything. I ended up making an appointment with an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor at one. When it was finally my turn to speak to the doctor the pain hadn't let up at all. The doctor ended up having to numb my ear (which didn't really numb it) and put TWO holes in my right ear drum. It was so painful and I was so dizzy afterward. He prescribed me like five different medicines and I got them filled. I took them and went to sleep for a couple hours. I now feel so so so much better. My ear still hurts but nothing like before and I'll be able to go to school tomorrow. An hour or so ago I got a phone call from AFS setting up the phone interview for Monday at 4 pm. I'm so excited, I love to talk about my experience. If we're friends you probably know I never shut up about it.

To end this ridiculously long blog post I just want to express how excited I am at seeing my friend Winnie tomorrow. She is coming to a city close to me for a Habitat for Humanity project. I haven't seen her in seven months- when I had to say goodbye to her in the airport after leaving Egypt. She's from Chicago, but goes to Harvard. I miss her so much! I commend you if you have read through this entire summation of the past four days. :)

(Image credit: http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://gallery.photo.net/photo/7369759-md.jpg&imgrefurl=http://photo.net/photodb/photo%3Fphoto_id%3D7369759&usg=__-CO0MDOWfWd6qjWh7znHYhzTUeY=&h=680&w=680&sz=59&hl=en&start=1&um=1&itbs=1&tbnid=SbRYfb0ICOalJM:&tbnh=139&tbnw=139&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dclover%2Bphotography%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG%26tbs%3Disch:1)

Hemingway Parody

I wrote a parody of Hemingway's style by relating my first day in Cairo, Egypt. Send me your thoughts.

“Marwa, where are we going,” I asked.
“To a café,” she shrugged. It was normal for her.
Costa was the name of the café. I considered it the equivalent of Starbucks. David arrived soon with his host brothers Mahmoud and Nehad. The atmosphere was nice.
“Low samaht, low samaht ,” Marwa said tittering to get the waiter’s attention. I scanned the menu and ordered what I was familiar with, aseer manga . It came in a small glass; sweet and fresh.
“Let’s take a picture,” Marwa said, “Runda let’s slide over beside the boys. I’ll have the waiter take it.” He took five or six pictures. He was young looking, enthusiastic. Five hours passed, or it seemed so to me. I wasn’t much accustomed to sitting in cafés. Seven songs by Enrique Iglesias and the Backstreet Boys played on loop the entire time. It was cute, then annoying.
I walked with them across the street to the AFS office. It was more of one large room and two or three smaller ones. The sun in Cairo was hot. The window units inside were cool and refreshing. Our visit wasn’t long. We left with a couple volunteers and went to the metro.
“Runda, buy the tickets. You need to practice your Arabic,” Marwa giggled.
I gritted my teeth. “Taskarra itneyn ,” I told the guy at the counter. I had to shove my way to get to the window. He was balding. He shoved the tickets through without looking up. I was proud of myself, it wasn’t so hard. The metro was terrifying, maybe more so than the traffic. I tried not to think about danger, this was their culture.
Downtown was a mess, but I liked it. People walked everywhere. It was noisy. We entered a Koshary shop to eat lunch. It was at 5 pm. The food was good; hot and filling. I refused to leave the country without the recipe. After lunch we went to a café. It was called Al Naeem. Soon it became my favorite. Smoke from sheesha filled the room. I didn’t smoke, I just ignored it.
“Autumn, you have to smoke it like this,” Medo gestured, forming his lips into an O.
“You’re doing great,” the others chimed in.
I watched from the distance, amused. The waiter came around. I told him what I wanted, “Aseer manga min fadlak .”
He nodded, trying hard not to laugh at my accent or my obvious Americaness. More and more people had joined the group. We walked along the Nile and climbed aboard a Felucca boat. Instead of Enrique and the Backstreet Boys loud Arabic music was blasted. Amr Diab I think. The ride was short. There was an apparently drunk guy dancing on the felucca. I know he wasn’t though, it was Cairo, maybe it was just the strong coffee. He mimicked playing the guitar, an attempt to cheer up the Americans aboard. We looked like death. I had never stayed awake so long. Marwa and I took a Microbus home. I was looking forward to my bed.
At the flat my host mother was waiting, she was fully dressed and holding her car keys. “Are you ready to go,” she asked.
“Go where,” I wondered, it was so late I couldn’t believe we were going out again. I wanted to sleep.
“We’re ready,” Marwa said, “Runda you are going to meet my uncle and his kids!”
I resigned the thought of sleep, but went along excitedly. It’s not every day you are in Cairo. I again found myself on a felucca boat. This time though it was docked and quiet. Marwa’s uncle dropped off the family and went to get food. He brought back Koshary for dinner. It was 1 am. The food was great. I was tired, but happy.
“Your name is Runda,” my host uncle’s wife asked me.
“Yes, it is,” I said speaking clearly.
“So is mine! Do you know what it means in English?”
“No, I’ve never been sure.”
“It’s the name of a branch of a certain type of tree. It’s a very beautiful branch.”
I nodded, pinching myself to stay awake. I heard Marwa giggle. I opened my eyes to realize I had been asleep.
“It’s time to go,” she laughed, “My baby American sister can’t handle staying up late.”
I laughed feeling a little guilty, but relieved.
(Image credit: http://hurghadatrips.com/1.jpg)

3.14.10

Today was bittersweet. My plan to wake up early and go thrift store shopping with my mom was thwarted. I felt sick this morning and didn't get up until late. We did end up getting out of the house for most of the day. Most of the thrift stores were closed, I had wanted to find some cheap books. At one of the Goodwill stores they were having an auction. There was all types of people lounging on couches and hard metal chairs. I only stayed a few minutes. They were auctioning stuff that wasn't selling in the store-- an intricate dragon outdoor lamp, an old plug in radio, and more. After seeing store after store closed we headed for the parkway. It was mostly bleak and misty, but still beautiful in it's own way. I love the mountains and I can't wait until spring when I can go driving around and hiking. I was so excited about going to eat at Chic-fil-a, until I realized it was Sunday and they were closed. At home I called a friend from Egypt and talked for about an hour, it made me feel at home again, although I'm not from Egypt. My ear started to hurt again and I wasn't hearing very well. It kept getting worse and worse until I had to take medicine and tried to go to sleep. After a few hours its more of a dull throb. I need to get off and start writing my Hemingway parody. If I think it's worth it I'll post it on here. I'm not sure if the above is very coherent, I'm feeling pretty bad. Oh and this is a text my friend Salman just sent me. I'm so jealous. "I'm at a sheesha cafe in Georgetown. There's an Ethiopian restaurant nearby too, but closed. I'm here with catherine, mariz and some other egyptians. We had hummus with ayeesh and mahshi for appetizer, shawerma and taamiya for the main course and mint tea and baklava. They're playing arabic music and television for us... I miss you guys so damn much." I'd give a lot to be there with them right now. (Image credit: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2050/2316010830_32cf5bd6ea.jpg)

Egypt

If you're a friend of mine the title above may put you off. "Is she still talking about Egypt," they say. But I can't help it. Next Friday, a friend of mine from Harvard, Winnie, is going to be a couple hours away and I'm going to meet up with her. I haven't seen anybody from the exchange group since seven months ago, on August 8, when I was crying in the JFK airport. I don't know what we're going to do, but it honestly doesn't matter. Just seeing Winnie will make my whole experience feel real again, and God knows I miss her. Thinking about Egypt makes me feel raw and vulnerable. There is a certain point in my reminiscing when I have to stop myself before I absolutely lose it. Few people know what I'm talking about. I torture myself sometimes by bringing out my box of every single significant item I collected over those six weeks or reading my journal and I've dedicated a whole wall in my bedroom to mementos from my trip. Don't get me wrong. I loved everything about my trip and everyone that was a part of it, I just miss it so intensely. More than anything ever. I might also be on edge because I'm waiting for the results of my scholarship application to go back. If I get to go back for six months, I will be happier than is believable. I feel like I've been writing in maxims, but I've been thinking about this all day. Dear Winnie, I can't wait to see you on Friday, I really really can not wait. :)

3.13.10

I almost ignored the alarm clock when it rang at six thirty this morning. I crawled out of bed feeling immediately guilty, I hadn't even attempted to study last night. While the majority of my high school was groaning about going to a half day of Saturday school, I was groaning about taking the SAT. I really had meant to study, but everything has been getting in the way, making me feel lazy, frustrated, and anxious. It was comforting to walk into the auditorium to find a group of kids I knew from my AP classes. There wasn't much time to talk before I was filed away with the other students to our respective classrooms. The test wasn't horrible, but it wasn't a breeze either. The three or four hours were filled with pencils tapping, the grating noise of the sharpener, and stifled coughs from the other students. I was more than relieved when testing finished and I could leave.
Taking a long test seems to make hunger much more painful than it probably is. I went with my friend, Oliver, to eat at an Indian restaurant in downtown. They brought me a steaming hot cup of chai tea to wash away the testing stress. We ate the Indian buffet, which was colorful and wonderful. The first time I had eaten at the restaurant was the week before. I was also with Oliver. A waitress had come to the table and asked my friend and I what we wanted to drink. She then turned to Oliver and said matter-of-factly, "Mr. Pibb, no ice." I still can't stop laughing.
Lunch was followed with browsing books across the street as I waited for my mother to pick us up. My mom and I spent time at Big Lots and Lowe's debating and discussing bunk beds, flower seeds, and paint chips. I've been helping her put these chocolate brown grommet curtains up since we've been home. We sat on the couch while we ate dinner and watched reruns of Glee. I may have been singing along just a bit.
(Image from: http://www.flickr.com/photos/carbonprototype/4366491453/)