Book Review 2: Everything Is Illumiated by Jonathan Safran Foer

Everything is Illumated by Jonathan Safran Foer

When I opened the pages of this book, I remind myself that I had attempted to read it once before in a lull between summer work ending and the school year beginning. But that wasn't the only reason there was such a familiarity in his writing. The way Foer establishes his character's voices in this novel made me really feel like I knew them. I found myself almost knowing what they would say, and feeling like I was "in" on the inside jokes and puns skillfully intertwined in the tragic story I uncovered with every page turn.

Everything is Illuminated is both a comical read and an eye-opening experience. It is a mix of experience and stories from the perspective of a young American, a young Ukrainian, and the story that is they are putting together. Because of the frame of reference of being in a culture different than my own, I found the Young Ukrainan (Alex) interesting an enlightening. I found his struggle with English extremely entertaining because he makes mishaps and misunderstandings that I've heard so many Malagasy make as well.

Unfortunately - When I came towards the end of Everything is Illuminated I was reminded of why I had such a difficult time finishing this book. The ending is so underwhelming and doesn't even come near completing the story in a fulfilling way. I almost feel as though I missed something along the way and need to go back and reread the entire thing. But, because of the familiarity I have with the characters (which I still feel is the biggest strength in Foer's writing), reading it again would feel like re-doing an intimate conversation).

I would recommend this book to people only to know if I actually did miss out on vital part of the plot....if so, please let me know.

Book Review 1: Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan

Book Review #1 - Brain On Fire: My Month of Madness by Susannah Cahalan 6/17/2014

"The existence of forgetting has never been proved. We only know that some things do not come to our mind when we want them to." -Friedrich Nietzsche (From Brain on Fire)

A young journalist (not too unlike myself except for being in New York and actually starting a career in journalism), goes from collecting information and creating stories to being unable to remember major details of her life. In Brain on Fire by Susannah Cahalan, you get a first person account of a psychotic breakdown.

I enjoyed this book not only because my wonderful mother gave it to me to read (Thank Mom!) but also because of Cahalan's intensive research into her own life - something I can only imagine would be incredibly difficult to do. After being miraculously cured of her very rare disease, she went back to the doctors, nurses, and even her family to find out what had happened in the months her brain had mostly erased from memory.

She watched videos of herself in the hospital - completly detached from the woman on the other side of the screen because she had no recollection of what woman exisiting. Not only is this extremely courageous - Cahalan had no idea what she would uncover about herself in her research - but the meaning behind the story is also heart warming.

Cahalan wrote this novel to put a spotlight on an illness that wrongly gets diagnoses as Bipolar Disorder or even Schizophrenia and in her inspiring ending and afterword, its seems her work to spread awareness did not go unnoticed. Because of her awareness campaign, many more correct diagnosis happen every year. Before about 90% of people with the same diseases went undiagnosed or wrongly diagnosed. After, 81% recover fully.

As an aspiring journalist that wants to create a positive change with my writing, I can say that I without a doubt found Cahalan's account inspiring.

Other quotes from the book:

"Paradoxically, my ability to recognize my own weaknesses was a strength." -Susannah Cahalan, Brain on Fire.

The Wonderful People I've Been Living With

Written on: 7/12/2014

We've been at our host families for four weeks now and to explain this experience is nearly impossible.

For starters, my Neny (Mom)is the same age as me - 21. She is adorable and hilarious - she is one of those people who tells a story and starts laughing before she can finish. With the language barrier - there are so many times I have no idea what she is saying but I can't help but laugh. Watching her play with my lil bro is my favorite activity in the world. She is so silly and reminds me of my own mom playing with me as a kid. She loves learning english, but is a fantastic Malagasy teacher as well. I owe my knowledge of random words like butterfly (lolo) and tree (hazo) to her.

My Dada is 23 and is always being called in every direction. (His name is Mampionona but they yell “Mpono!” Which sounds like mm-poon-yea without the. When I was teaching them English at the dinner table he loved that “spoon” sounded so much like his name) He drinks more coffee than I ever did back in the states. He runs a little store that sells Telma* credit and snacks and takes care of our animals (cow, pig, chickens). Seeing him play with my little brother - Tendry - is the cutest thing ever. He is such a great (and invovled) Dad. When he is fixing something (usually his moped which always seems to be broken) Tendry is right there picking up tools and imitating whatever my dad is doing.

My lil bro (They call him Tendry (pronounced sort of like Ten-gy) but his full name is Tendriniavo) is slowly becoming my bestie. I seriously love that little nugget more and more everyday. At first, we were both really shy to eachother - but eventually he accepted that the giant white woman is actually pretty cool. He is 1 1/2 and loves to copy everything I do. When I cough he covers his mouth and mocks me and giggles. Gosh, even thinking of his giggle makes me miss him! I want him to stay little forever! Except for when he throws a fit - thats never fun. He is working on eating big people food instead of breast feeding and he doesn't like that one bit. When my Neny finally gets him to eat people food we all (including Tendry) clap and dance. He loves it! I am honestly going to miss that lil' guy and he is only going to remember pictures of me!

My Neny said she wants to have another baby once Tendry is 2. I hope I get to meet him/her before I leave Mada. She really wants a little girl and I think their little girl would be so precious. I bet Tendry would be a good big brother...

My Nenybe (grandmother) is a delightful woman who welcomes me back home every time I enter our yard. She loves teaching me new words and on the weekends when we don't have anything to do she will show me pictures of my dad (her only son). My Dadabe seems like he is probably full of wisdom and I wish I had the vocabulary to actually speak with him. He is the chief of our community – which I learned the other day means that when there are problems people come to him and he sets up community meetings and represents our neighborhood when he goes to speak to the mayor. Its great to watch him play with Tendry because he is so much like any grandpa ever. Sort of making fun of him but in such a loving and beautiful way.

I feel so at home with them that at times I have to remind myself how far from home I actually am. The way they interact – from watching the world cup on TV or joking around with eachother and being silly – remind me of just how alike people are. Which sounds really cheese-y, and is also completely over-simplifying the thousands of reasons we are different. Its complicated and impossible to explain. All my friends, family, and anyone reading this really need to know is that I'm with people who I can say that I love whole-heartedly and that I feel so lucky to be loved and supported here as well as at home.

Vocab

*Telma Credit - What we use for our pay-as-you-go phones. Telma is like the "AT&T" of Madagascar

First Health Session Paranoia Is Too Real.

 Written on: 6/19/2014

The doctors here installed the fear of God in me about getting diseases. The sessions about diseases are not unlike the Mean Girls gym class teacher's Sex Ed. classes.

*Dramatization*

Do not forget to take your Doxy. Do not sleep without your mosquito net. Do not go out without bugspray. If you do...you will get Malaria...and die.

Do not drink unfiltered water. Do not eat fresh vegetables at the hotelys. Do not forget your Sur' Eau*. You will double dragon** in your PO*** for days....and die. Do not eat in the missionary position. Do not eat standing up. Just don't do it? K?

Alright...come grab some Pepto.

*****

I began to question everything I had eaten over the past week. Was it safe? Did it contain feces? Did my host mom (Neny) clean everything appropriately? WAS SHE EVEN USING SUR'EAU?!?

To calm my nerves I ate about four brownies at snack. My stomach unleashed its wrath further and began to gargle ferociously. It could've been the four brownies I had just eaten...or I had developed Guardia in the past 2 hours and was going to be the first trainee so succumb to the most common disease for PCVs in Madagascar.

My stomach pains worsened and I became extremely gasy - a sign of Guardia. I panicked silently as I rode the PCV truck through the bumpy dirt roads on the way back to my house. Once there, I picked at my dinner...too nervous to eat much of anything my Neny set in front of me. After going to my room I couldn't help but look up the Guardia again in my Personal Health Handbook. In my notes I had written: Sympts included feeling of gasy-ness and sulfur smelling toots.

My stomach let out a minuscule amount of gas and I began sniffing the air. It was free of sulfur, but yet my mind wandered through everything I had eaten again. After tossing and turning in bed for what felt like hours, I finally fell asleep.

When I awoke, the pain was still in my stomach and had moved to the lumbar part of my back. I felt awful. "Is malaise is a symptom?" I wrote down the date and my symptoms on a piece of paper and slipped it into my First Aid kit in case my condition worsened and I needed to inform the doctors of the disease's onset.

After my morning trip to the Kabone, I had a diagnosis for my "illness."

......

..........

.............

.................

....................I had gotten my period.

The only meds I needed to "take" were some chill pills because clearly I was paranoid.

*Vocab*

*Sur'Eau - chlorine used to kill germs in water. Tastes like bleach...yum....! You can't taste it in food but sometimes you can in your water. Drink packets like Crystal Lite help A LOT.

**double dragon = simultaneously having explosive diarrhea and vomiting (Thanks PCV Gabby).

***PO = a bucket with a lid that you pee in at night when its too dark to use the kabone**** outside. Can also be used to vomit into or used to poo in when you need to examine your feces for disease.

****Kabone = Outhouse. A hole in the ground with two foot rests text to it. looks like this - []0[]. your business goes in the 0 and your feet go on the []s. I'd be lying if I said I actually didn't mind using the Kabone. It's supposed to be healthier for your body to squat rather than sit while you do your business. Plus i'll have calves and quads of steal soon.

Traveling & Orientation: Wait..Where I am I? What Day is it?

Written on6/13/2014

Staging in Philadelphia was fun, but compared to the last few days of travel and orientation - it was a meer bleep in my experiences for this week.

TRAVEL (note - I was exhausted so the details might be a bit fuzzy. Also - in general not that exciting.)

Leaving Philly, we first took a 2(ish) hour bus ride to NYC - the JFK airport. Our bus drive was an adorable little gentleman named Barry. As we hit the road out of Philly he started his greeting, "Hello. My name is Barry I will be your bus driver today. We are first heading over the Delaware Bridge, then we might go over the Washington Bridge. Or, if the traffic is okay, we will go under the Lincoln Tunnel and through Manhattan!" Ooohs and Ahhs echoed across the trainees on the bus, "But only if the traffic is okay. I'll tell you when we get close!" From behind me another trainee said "Oh Barry!" and he laughed the most precious old man laugh I've ever heard. Barry was probably the coolest "pilot" we had!!

Next we sat in the airport for a few hours, I had some coffee. We got through security (probably a bit too easily - a few of the trainees unknowingly got through security with half drunken Gatorade bottles or even full bottles of water). Then we sat for a few more hours at our gate. Next was my first international plane ride. I got my first airplane meal - which was more food than I think anyone really needs. Because the plane was out of chicken, I got the vegetarian meal - tortellini, two bread rolls, a small pasta salad, crackers and slice of cheese, a snicker bar, and a little slice of cheese cake.

This was followed by a mix of making a solid, yet mostly failed attempt at sleeping and watching a few movies (Gravity, That Awkward Moment, & Her) on the provided mini TV screen on the seat in front of us.

We arrived at Johannesburg and traveled from our gate to another security checkpoint. There my half asleep self forgot about the full water bottle in my bag and had to travel to the nearest restroom to dump it out. Luckily, I didn't have to reenter the security line - mostly likely because of the fear on my face when I pulled it, filled to the rim with water, out of my bag and my incident apologizing.

Before the flight to Antananarivo, we took a VERY small bus from the gate to our plane. From the look of the faces of the non-Peace Corp people accompany us I imagine we looked quite silly packing ourselves as tightly as possible into the bus - afraid to leave anyone behind. Little did we know, there was another bus available for our big load of passengers.

I slept most of the way to Tana (the short version of Madagascar's capital city) and only awoke when I was bumped by the trainee next to me because our home for the next 2 years was in sight. This country is beautiful from the air, and as soon as we landed I learned it was even more beautiful on land.

After getting of the bus the Peace Corp people met us at the gate. They were all friendly and repeated things often - understanding that we were too tired to understand and much to tired to attempt to communicate. We knew a few things - get our bags. Talk a little. Take picture. Get Dramamine/anti-carsick drugs if we needed them. We grabbed our bags and headed to the buses. After taking our photo and explaining a few things, Dee, the Country Director, took two bags of small yellow pills and smiled, "Okay! Who wants drugs?" We all laughed and she said, "I'm serious, even if you've never had car-sickness before I encourage it. These roads are up and down and bumpy and swervy and all over the place. I'm not forcing it...but you should probably take it." I'm fairly certain all of us held out our hands eagerly to take the tiny pink pill.

And we were all glad we did. It's impossible to explain the amount of bumping and swerving and starting and stopping that we did. It was an amazing ride nonetheless. It was the first time all of us would see the place that would be home.

PSTC & ORIENTATION

After the two hour roller coaster bus ride from Tana we arrived at PSTC (PreService Training Center - Peace Corp loves acronyms too - I feel so at home coming from HRL!!). It could not be more beautiful. Its a collection of different sized buildings on a small peninsula that is surrounded by a beautiful lake. Across from us (and evidential, where I will be living with my host family starting TOMORROW! :D) is beautiful rolling hills/maybe small mountains? Trying to explain how beautiful this site is is nearly impossible. I promise at some point I'll take my camera out and take a picture!

At PSTC, we have been spoiled. Electricity, flush toilets, wonderful food (that is a mix of Malagasy traditional cuisine and an interpretation of American food - not quite American but not something the would have traditionally in Madagascar - like Mac n' Cheese or French Fries).

The PSTC compound is surrounded either by the lake or by fencing and has a gate. To leave we must sign out with the Security Guard outside of the gate and we must return by dark (I've only left once and it was to visit a home with my language class). There are two ADORABLE security dogs - Stuffy and Killer. They are so friendly and often found sleeping in the sun - they work nights, often waking us up with barking, which would be annoying if they weren't not only keeping us safe, but incredibly precious. Killer has the sweetest hazelnut eyes and is sort of shy. Stuffy is extremely affectionate and when someone starts coming to pet him he gets so excited that his entire bottom half wiggles.

I go to my host family tomorrow I will write more about that in a different post after I meet them. To build suspense - I'll be living with a family of 3 - A mom, dad, and child who have a pig, cow, and some chickens. It's there first time hosting a trainee!!

No clue when I will have internet to post this or the last post I wrote.

Until then, with love,

Elizabeth

When you don't know about hidden pockets in your carry on...

Date Written: 6/10/2014

Everything was going as expected. A few emotional goodbyes (of course) and packing up the car a bit later than anticipated, but nothing out of the ordinary. Ironically, my Dad's music playlist was on "F"s after a weekend of traveling to get last minute things and visiting with family and songs about flying were playing on the way to the airport.

Checking my luggage went smoothly. Both checked bags were underweight = success! Got through security without an issue. Walked to near the end of the terminal just as they were calling the first people to board my plane to Philadelphia. As I sat to wait for my turn to board the plane I looked for the gum I had recently stowed away next to my wallet in an easy access part of my carry on.

To my dismay, I couldn't find the gum - or my wallet - anywhere.

Maybe my parents or someone has it? I texted my mom "Can't find my fossil wallet and keys" and then "May have lost it had both debit cards and my cash." Frantically, I ran to the gate entrance and told the woman calling the passengers to board I think I had left my wallet at security. "You have ten minutes. Then we leave," said the woman quickly.

I started speed walking back to security, but when I remembered how far I had walked to the gate I started to run. Mid-stride I answered a call from my dad, "We don't have it. Go back to security. Push comes to shove we will cancel the cards."

"Okay!" I said, panting partially because of the sudden exercise and partially because I had become so anxious that my heart rate had quickened, "I'm sure its at security. It'll be fine." I reassured myself before I hung up the phone.

Frantically, I made eye contact with one of the TSA agents and told him I think I had left my wallet. He escorted me to a nearby table, "What does you wallet look like? Did you check all the parts of you bag already?"

"Uhm. Its a little wallet on a keychain. Its blue. Its on a maroon braclet like thing," his calm disposition and soft eyes were increasingly reassuring and my breathing had slowed slightly. I started searching through my bag one last time, shoving my hand in every dark nook - still not seeing the shine of my keys or feeling the leather on the wallet.

The TSA agent came back from asking the other agents to take a look, "Did you check the back part of the front pouch? Its a little like hidden pocket?"

I gave him a confused look and lifted the front pouch of my blag. I saw my keys move to the front of the pouch. "Oh gosh..." I said both elated and a bit defeated, "Here they are! Thank you so much."

Before my bag was fully zipped and I was done thanking the man, I was sprinting back to my gate. I knew at least five minutes had flown by in my adventure to find my never lost keys. I called my dad and told him the good - silly - news and exchanged I love yous in a less panicked but still breathless voice.

I arrived at the gate and made eye contact with the woman who had rushed me to return in ten minutes. She seemed calm until I opened my mouth. "Should I board now or do you still have more people to call on before me?" I said, not really knowing how much time had passed or what the current time was.

"Get on the flight. Now." the woman snapped.

I flew to the side of the gate and presented my boarding pass and ID. Her snappy disposition changed quickly as she noticed my naivity. "Don't worry about it," she said, "You still have a few more minutes. It'll be fine."

I texted my mom back as soon as I made my dramatic enterance as the last passenger to board my flight. "On the flight! haha love you :)"

The rest of the day was routine. Got to Philly. Got to the hotel Peace Corp staging was in. Went to check in. Went to lunch. It was great to meet everyone and talk with like-minded people about the adventures, hardships, and accomplishments that lie ahead of us. And of course, it was nice to listen to all the different accents and hear different perspectives. I'm looking forward to learning more about them in our next few days of travel and the next few months of training.

Not sure when I'll post next. Or what it could possibly be about. If today taught me anything it was that you should probably check for hidden pockets in your carry on luggage.

Oh - and that everything will be fine....or at least will make a funny blog post about how silly I am.

[Pics of luggage/luggage selfie] - what happens when you get up at 4 AM. The little teal bag was the hidden compartment culprit.

With love,

Elizabeth :)