Times of “too much fun”

I have been accused of having too much fun. Too much fun, you say? I’ve recently been assigned a profile piece on a pet waste removal company. Don’t tell me I’m having too much fun. Out of the office, though... if it were possible to have too much fun, perhaps I’d qualify. Frankly, that’s ok by me. In fact, I’m rather proud of the fact.
       
Picking up where we left off finds me at the Nationals-Phillies baseball game: this, while a good excuse to get outside and chat with fellow interns, does not qualify in the “too fun” category. From my own experience, and as has been noted by a baseball-loving friend, unless you understand the sport, it seems to be a long session of guys standing around waiting for a ball. Indeed. Every once in a while, I must admit, I had to remind myself that there was supposed to be some sort of sporting event taking place on the field below us. Give me football, basketball, soccer, and I’m with you; baseball, not so much. Regardless, still a great opportunity, the weather was excellent, and the company was lively.

Jenny and I stop outside for the typical photo opp. before heading in, at which time we promptly went the wrong way and circled the entire stadium before getting to our seats. The perk: we saw the stadium from all angles and found the closest Dippin’ Dots vendor. 

    
As the [moderately boring] baseball game had cut in on other plans, rescheduling led to dinner plans for Friday, and random mentioning of mango lassi and biryani landed Tony and I in the Taj Mahal restaurant in Dupont Circle--I heartily approve. Good food, good company, and good conversation overruled the potential awkwardness of the quiet atmosphere and bemused sideways glances we attracted from an older couple sitting nearby, and the weekend was off to a notably promising start.
       
Now, it may be hard to believe people when they say that this city is small, but it truly is. Between the restaurant and the Metro stop (just up the street), we ran into friends and fellow interns on three separate occasions. Three! From there, it was up to Grosvenor to further kickstart the weekend with lively music and a friendly gathering hosted by Ian, fellow Dickinsonian and roommate of Tony (flashback to last week for those following the characters in this little narrative). It was an entertainingly varied collection of people, to say the least, and a grand look into the life of interns outside of the office.
       
Thanks to beautiful weather and Cherry Blossom Festival events, Saturday saw a massive influx of tourists (which group, thankfully, I no longer consider myself a part of - I’ve moved on to the “Washingtonians continuously disgruntled by unknowing and innocent tourists” group). Plans to meet up with a few friends visiting from Dickinson were slightly complicated by the insanity of Chinatown, particularly when it came to restaurant possibilities at lunch time. Thus, when my mother called in the midst of it and inquired as to where I was, the blunt and honest response was “Walking into Hooters.” Why? Because most of the tourists filling the streets and restaurants were families, and families do not dine at Hooters. Totally logical.
       
Next stop: National Zoo. Further insanity of the masses, plenty of people watching, occasional spotting of wildlife behind the walls of fanny pack-laden visitors as we attempted to pick our way through the crowds without tripping over small children leashed to frazzled parents. It made for a good stroll, though, and of course the entire escapade was free (one of the many wonderful features of this city).

 Clearly, the animals weren’t the only creatures in the zoo worth watching…. Really, you bring it upon yourself when you wear ears and a tail. Come on now. 

       
Sunday centered around wanderings with Medha and her friend Caitlin, visiting from Calgary. As the weather was top-notch, the first stop was the outdoor patio of La Tomate Bistro, one of many excellent options off of Dupont Circle. After a late and leisurely lunch, it was off to the National Mall for a trip to the National Gallery of Art via the sculpture garden. Admittedly, I’ve been in the National Gallery at least three times since arriving here in late January, and it never fails to pull me in. While I generally prefer going to museums – especially art museums – on my own (does that sound anti-social?), the company on this trip was great, and yielded all sorts of excellent, intellectual conversations that I revel in.
       
From there, rather than walking to the Tidal Basin from there, we jokingly considered snagging a rickshaw. Medha’s enthusiasm quickly turned the joke into reality (Uncle Julio style) and we soon found ourselves crammed into the back of a rickshaw, enjoying the ride as we cruised down the National Mall and the girl peddling in front of us did all of the work. What a way to travel.

 Three girls in one rickshaw indeed; I had no idea three people in such a thing would be allowable. Hands down awesome way to see the city, though. Absolutely. 

       
The rest of the week has been relatively uneventful so not much to report – TWC programming on Monday at the National House Builders Assoc., a few trips to the travel medical center to look into my likelihood of survival for a summer in Ghana, a fair bit of boredom at the internship (you’ll have that). Just one thing that requires noting in the books before I sign off, however: I tried goat for the first time! Yes, goat. And not fudge or cheese, mind you – I’m talking ground goat. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it; it may have been thanks to the impressive cooking skills of the Sethis, but the meal was excellent.
    
When I stopped by their apartment on Monday evening, I was just dropping in to borrow a sari in preparations for upcoming celebrations of Tamil New Year; ultimately, I stayed to visit for three hours and got home around midnight. Visiting led to chai, chai led to a snack of spiced and cooked tuber leaves, then homemade mango lassi, and by that point it was insisted that I stay for dinner – of course I didn’t argue. All excellent, as was, of course, the conversation… always a learning experience!
       
With that, a break in the babbling as I head back to campus for a final visit this semester and attempt to ignore the fact that the semester is speedily coming to a close…

From bhangra to brunch, a weekend of “chill”

Once again, my failure to blog more rapidly is a sign of the craziness of the times… and my inability to keep my eyes open long enough to do it, quite frankly. It has, however, been a packed couple of days since last we chatted: panel discussion on peace in the Middle East at the U.S. Institute of Peace, bhangra party in Adams Morgan (a popular clubbing area in NW DC), and the rest of the weekend “eventful in a relaxed way,” to quote Tony, lead chef and co-host of our Sunday brunch.

The location and general summary of Saturday and Sunday: balcony, food, conversation, Medha relentlessly taking pictures. Apartment on the 21st floor and awesome weather made for an excellent brunch setting… until the attack of the bees, of course. 

As I learned on Thursday, the current location of the USIP (at least, the locale of the panel discussion) was a bit tricky to find, in a poignantly ironic sort of way--I’d prefer that an institution apparently housing US peace be larger and obvious, wouldn’t you? Good thing they’re working on that. In any case, the discussion was interesting, though not exactly ground breaking; from my experience, such discussions reach the same stalemate every time--thus the problem. The gathering, however, was an entertainingly mixed one, including everyone from Jehan Sadat (widow of Anwar Sadat) and the Egyptian ambassador to media personnel to students and civilian blue hairs. Safe to say I was the youngest there.
   
Friday’s notable event also hosted a wonderfully varied group, though in a drastically different way: bhangra party at the Bossa Lounge! Yes, bhangra. Are you familiar with it? Think of the most stereotypical Indian dancing imaginable; be sure to include bouncing, dramatically large steps and shoulder shrugging, and constant extending and raising of arms. I was pathetically excited to receive an invite to such a thing, as it promised to be a colorful experience, and I was not let down. Really, you have to experience it to believe it. Quite the international gathering, though few Punjabis in sight--meaning few actually knew what we were doing, which of course made it all the better. We barely managed to catch the last Metro back (Metro runs until 3am on weekends), so you can imagine that it was a lively but tiring night… for further details, you’ll have to ask me off the record. ;)
       
Some friends and I had made two plans for the rest of the weekend: dinner of Ethiopian on Saturday, renting paddle boats on Sunday… neither of which we did. Instead, it was a weekend of going with the flow--“eventful in a relaxed way.” After some joking about the fact that there was a restaurant by the name of “Uncle Julio’s” near my apartment, we ultimately ate our words (by all means, guffaw at the terrible pun) when we discovered that it’s actually the home of some impressive Mexican cuisine. Once we’d packed up leftover enchiladas and guacamole, we stopped at the nearby Tivoli Gourmet & Pastry for mousse, tiramisu, and wine (for those of age…), and headed back to my apartment to relax, chat, and enjoy.

 

Tony, Medha, Ian, and I may not have made it out to Ethiopian or paddle boating, but when we learned that Uncle Julio’s had an outside patio, well, there was no getting around it. Foot in mouth for the unspoken understanding that a restaurant dubbed “Uncle Julio’s” would be absurd. 

Drive to the Grosvenor area--which would’ve cut down on the Metro commute times had we not accidentally taken a detour down the National Mall--to switch hangout location, spend the rest of the evening chatting on the balcony while a gathering of Mexican interns partied inside, plans to return for brunch and paddle boating the next day, and we were set.
   
Little did we know the brunch on the balcony would turn out to be a wonderfully drawn out affair. Clean up and a morning run to the market next door, and we set upon creating our Easter brunch. Proud to report that, ultimately, we had quite the spread: fruit, matzah (and nutella and peanut butter), and hummus, brie, and crackers stayed with us on the balcony, while the buffet inside boasted French toast, sausage, scrambled eggs, beans, an intriguing take on hashbrowns, milk, juice, and chai. Not surprisingly, we found ourselves sitting around until 2-ish, snacking, talking, and enjoying the sun.

Kevin, roommate of Ian and Tony, joined us for our impressive brunch spread (really, we were quite proud of the results… for good reason, if I may say so). For the record: the beverage on the bottom right there was not a part of the buffet; innocent bystander…. ahem. 

       
Though others came and went, I ultimately didn’t get back to my apartment in Virginia until after 9, a full 24 hours after my having left it… a bit of a shame that I didn’t fully take advantage of having the apartment to myself, but ultimately there were better things to do. Instead of paddle boating, Tony and I took a drive to check out a nearby Korean/International Market (does anyone know what a durian is??) and to scope the area, back for dinner and more chatting on the balcony, and a general continuation of the weekend’s token word: chill. Indeed, it was a “chill” couple of days.
  
Speaker at the Dept. of the Interior on Monday for TWC programming, back to the grindstone on Tuesday, and the week is off yet again. Happily, I was also off--that is, from my internship, of course. The glorious part of having little to nothing to do at the moment. On Wednesday, lucky duck that I am, I escaped the office around 10:30 (quite the record, as I got in around 9:15), headed back to the apartment to change and grab some lunch, and left once again, book in hand, destined for the WWI Memorial. Throughout the afternoon, the place was amazingly serene and peaceful, considering the fact that it’s spot in the middle of some of the most popular tourist destinations in DC. My only real interruption was a temporary invasion of eighth graders, the leading tour guide of which said at one point “No one ever comes here…. Well, except for one person (apologetic gesture towards me), who is unfortunate enough to be here when we are here.”… cue masses of stares in my direction.

 Leaning on a pillar (moving with the shade), book in hand, water bottle at side… yep, it was a relaxing afternoon, minus the hoodlum interruption.

Of course, all of this was in the midst of a freakishly hot spell for early April. As one who grew up on the coast of Lake Erie, I’d say 86* in the first week of April is nuts. More on my battle against the elements later, though. It is now time to sunblock it up--I’m headed to a Nationals-Phillies game this afternoon!

In the presence of greatness

Washington, DC, is the place to encounter people of greatness, as in the few who will pepper my blog post for today’s entry. My mother: brought me into the world, so I am required by rules of biology and society to classify her in this section. ;) Sandeep Pandey: Indian social activist, founder of ASHA, and recipient of the Ramon Magsaysay award in the ‘Emergent Leadership’ category. Don Belt: senior editor of foreign affairs at National Geographic magazine and all-around awesome and fascinating fellow. …and I think we’ll stop there for now and pick up where we left off after this coming weekend.
       
Person 1: last weekend brought to town my mother, her friend Sally, the start of the Cherry Blossom Festival, and a bit of somewhat less-than-ideal weather at times, as it travels with my family wherever they go (it sprinkled last time we were in Las Vegas). Still, we had no trouble entertaining ourselves, and luckily the sun had returned by Saturday and the remaining wind was perfect for the kick-off of the Festival, a kite festival on the National Mall.

After an initial introduction to the city via Dupont Circle (including dinner at Le Pain Quotidien and dessert at – of course – Larry’s, because I love that man and I flatter myself to think that the feeling is mutual), Mom and Sally hit up the usual touristy spots along the mall, for which I joined them on Saturday. The museums and memorials are, of course, the highlight of most trips to DC, but I think Dupont Circle should also be a requirement; it’s one of the main hubs of DC where you can really see the current life of the city, not just the history behind it.

Sally, Mom, and me ( and Medha behind the camera): four of the very few people not speaking French in Le Pain Quotidien. However, it was a good chance to brush up on some dusty language skills via eaves dropping and my first venture into mint lemonade was overwhelmingly positive (as was everything else). 

Luckily, the AID meeting, usually scheduled for Saturdays, had been postponed until Sunday, so I was able to attend and, bonus, drag Medha along as well. Now, as you may have noticed, I’m pretty much in love with my civic engagement project to the point that it’s become much more than that. I go out to dinner with them, celebrated Holi, attended a baby shower, and generally have a good time… to the point that we’re planning past this semester, and even to the end of the summer and next fall, once I’m back from Ghana. When it was asked if I could help with something over the summer via email and when I get back, not only was I not surprised, but I responded with an enthusiastic affirmative. The cause is great and the people are awesome – more than fellow volunteers, they’ve become good friends.
    
Anywho, Sunday presented another great opportunity through AID, again involving awesome people: a visit from and long discussion with Sandeep Pandey, a well-known (and perhaps slightly notorious) social activist from India and founder of the nonprofit ASHA for education, among numerous other projects. When this barefoot, gray-bearded man stepped in wearing a white salwar kameez under an argyle sweater, putting his hands together and bowing his head to those of us already sitting cross-legged in a circle on the floor, he seemed to be some sort of modern-day Gandhi. The real tell: when one of his stories involved him sitting under a tree, having some deep discussion while an angry mass protested around them. Truly an impressive character.

Medha and I with Dr. Mohan Bhagat (left), key player in the creation of AID as it is today and general host/figurehead, and Dr. Sandeep Pandey (far right)… quite the impressive pair. 

       
The next impressive character, with his own fair share of stories: Don Belt, amazing journalist and senior editor of foreign affairs at National Geographic magazine. As you can gather, it was a rather big week for me. Sandeepji on Sunday, our program toured ABC-7/Politico on Tuesday, and I spent several hours at National Geographic on Wednesday afternoon, chatting with Don and sitting in on his speech to current Nat. Geo. interns. Talk about stories; this man has a boatload of them. Even better – he’s great at telling them.
       
When I arrived at Nat. Geo., I met him at the elevator and we strolled to his office, sat to chat for a bit about what we’ve been working on and what is in the works (Ghana for me; Syria, Bangladesh, and who knows where else for him, of course). After some surprisingly familiar banter and the offer of banana and a bottle of water, we gauged two bananas for which was the lesser of evils browning-wise as if we were old friends and headed down to talk with the other interns. This, by the by, was all inspired as my informational interview, required for TWC. I was pathetically excited to hear back from Don, and all the more so when I actually had the opportunity to spend some time with him and chat before, during, between, and after sessions with other interns.

Though I’d visited National Geographic before, previously to see the Terra Cotta Warriors exhibit, this was definitely a first for the insider’s tour. 

       
Moral of the story, for both the interview and the civic engagement: TWC is what you make of it. Frankly, it is easy to cop out on both of those assignments; I, however, recommend that you not. Everyone is doing an internship, but not everyone gets such opportunities outside of that – the experiences of both Sandeep and Don are testaments to the fact that we can and must make our own opportunities. For someone occasionally laughed at when I admit that I’m hoping to get into the vastly changing field of print journalism, meeting a writer like Don was an unforgettable experience. And next time you have the opportunity to have chai with a major social activist, let me know what you think. Absolutely fantastic – but it’s all in what you make of it.
       
More escapades coming soon, no doubt. Until then, I recommend you see what sorts of adventures you can get yourself into… or even better, misadventures. In the words of the box of Sun-Maid raisins I cracked in to while talking to Don, “Stay curious and you will travel to the ends of the earth.” Fitting, was it not?