The Cultural Barrier and the Goat

Dear Blogger,

One of the guys I work with is African. He went down to a store nearby and bought some dinner for himself. He gave me some and when I told him I was having trouble identifying it--

Steve: What kind of meat is this?

Christian: Goat.

Steve: Goat?! WHAT?! I didn't know you could eat
goats...

Christian: Yeah, man. Everyone in Africa eats goats.

It tastes like beef, except it's harder to chew.

In case you didn't know, I hate goats.

He told me that everyone in Africa eats goat, and I believe him.

Steve: In America, we usually only use them for making milk and cheese.

Christian: Really? Do they kill the goats after they're done milking them?

Strange how that happens, isn't it?

XOXO,

Steve

The Barack O-Baramater

Dear Blogger,
Today we're having a birthday party for the Zabel Brothers. It'll be fun, and it better be fun, because I'm missing an Iron & Wine concert for this.

Remember about fifteen years ago when the big names in Chicago were Michael Jordan and Oprah Winfrey? Remember that?
We no longer find them amusing. How passé.

The big name in Chicago these days is Senator Barack Obama!

So 3W has taken it upon itself to make a Barack Obama Sighting. It's not easy. Here's what we do know:

1. He doesn't live in Hyde Park, like we thought. He actually lives in Kenwood, which is the neighborhood just north. Though, you would never be able to tell you'd left Hyde Park, so we'll claim him as our own.
2. The good senator isn't in town to often. My teacher Leesa tells me that he is understandably busy, and was only able to attend one of his daughter's soccer games this past year. So we're beginning to doubt that we'll ever actually see him, meaning that we might have to settle for just finding out where he lives.
3. Everyone in Hyde Park that has been here for a long time seems to know him. The Hyde Park Herald had an article a year ago when they interviewed everyone who's ever spoken to him. Apparently, his pizza delivery guy says he's a generous tipper, and Leesa says she saw him at Blockbuster all the time... these are all very encouraging.
4. David supposedly knows the general area where Barack lives. It's a brick house with tall shrubs and a big yard, with security detail in front. A picture of Barack in front waving to me would be a priceless picture.
5. Everyone here agrees that he's just a regular, old boy. That's very encouraging.
   

I can feel the net clasping around him right now.
We're also trying to guess what he'd name his dog. Kari said Sparky, I say Abraham Lincoln. (Another great Illinois politician.)

God Bless America,
Steve

Down And Dirty

Dear Blogger,

So down to this internship business.

I'm working at a place called Sunlight Africa Community Center, an after-school program for children of African immigrants, or children who are African immigrants themselves. I basically tutor them, mentor them, and I'm eventually going to organize workshops for them.

It's mostly a fun job, so far. I like helping the children with their homework and talking to them. (One kid, who I really like, he's learning to play the harmonica which I think is really really cool. I'm trying to get him to listen to Bob Dylan, partially so that I'll help spark his interest in music, and partially so that it will blow his mind he'll become a world famous musician because of me.) So far, it's been a decent internship.

I was really discouraged, though, after my first week of working there. The program itself was really disorganized. Meaning that if you put fifteen children, ages 7-14 in a tiny room for four hours, don't let them out but to use the bathroom, give them no physical outlet, and keep telling them to shut up-- they're going to be scratching the paint off the wall, they'll be so desparate. I was terribly upset with this, partially because I don't like yelling at kids, especially in a situation like this one, where it doesn't seem to particularly be their fault. (Kids do need space, everyone knows that.)

But mostly, I was disappointed with the organization itself. My boss told me that I would be doing more interacting with the children, on a personal level. I would be learning about them and their experiences as immigrants or children of immigrants. Being that this was the reasons I took the position, I was very disappointed that my boss would essentially lie to me. Whether or not she lied to me, though, is questionable. Sunlight Africa does a summer program which sounds more like what I thought I would be doing, where there's more interaction with the children on a personal level. And I might have been a little impatient with the program itself at that point, because this last week I got to know a lot of the students more personally, and I plan to learn more about their experiences through the workshops.

Other than that, things are going well at my internship. I like the people I work with. (I'll go into detail on that some other time.) The only problems left over are the problems I need to resolve with The Chicago Center. I'm still coming short on the time requirement. (24 hours a week, I'm only working twelve so far.) My advisor wanted me to work at another immigrant place in the morning, but that just seems to demanding of my schedule... so I just need to talk to him. I'll take care of that.

Regards,

Steve

Love Letter To 3620

Dear 3620,

Today is September 19th, International Talk-Like-A-Pirate Day! Are you really as excited as I am? Are you excited enough, 3620, to send me a text message at 6:30 a.m. Central Time, 7:30 a.m. Eastern Time, to remind me? Well, good!

Well, listen, as much as I support anything that has Dave Barry's Official Stamp Of Approval, in actuality, I really don't care at all. I'm not going to talk like a pirate, today, or any other day.

Sending a text message at 7:30 in the morning is socially inappropriate, I think everyone can agree on that. You woke me up to read some text message from a complete stranger. Don't be stupid.

Sending a text message to someone who isn't actually your friend at 7:30 a.m. is socially inappropriate. Sending a text message to someone who didn't even know you existed until he started getting your text messages at 6:30 a.m. is just straight-up stupid. I've called you stupid twice so far, so pay attention, moron. You'd think the first time I told you I wasn't your friend Lauren Christov, you'd pay attention and get her number right.

3620, I'm not your friend. I'm not Lauren Christov. Stop sending me her text messages. Get her damn number right and call her and talk to her. Stop texting me! Stop it right now!

I wish there were some better way I could tell you to stop, but when I call you, you probably don't answer the number because you don't know whose number it is. (Funny how that works, isn't it?) And on top of that, when I leave you a message, I can't understand what you're saying. Your message sounds like you're trying to be funny or something, but it sounds like you're doing a bad impression of a muppet.

Stop leaving me text messages, I don't like them. I've even gotten her telemarketers! AUGH!

~5412

PS-

3620, if I actually do know you, and you actually are my friend, call me. (Don't text me.)

One More Thing!

Dear Blogger,

Things are a little hectic here.

Mostly, they're just busy, though.

I have these tedious daily journals I have to write each day and the first batch is due on Thursday... I'm eight days behind. And I have to read some articles about something or other for my directed study on Thursday, and another article for Friday. It'll get done, though.

Other than that, here's what happened since Saturday:

1. Two intense hours of David v. Steve, 007 style, Saturday afternoon... we're still friends, though.

2. James Gandolfini was robbed of best actor in a drama series by James Spader. (Who? Exactly!) But The Sopranos won best dramatic series, so it's all good. (And Rachel Smiths didn't win for Brothers & Sisters, but I feel like she probably should have, based on her work on Six Feet Under.)

3. Went to Wrigley Field last night with my friends. Cubs were winning, then they were losing, and then they won in the bottom of the ninth. I don't really care about the Cubs, and I don't care whether they win the division or not, but Wrigley Field is such a great ballpark. There's no imposing sound system playing a different pop song every thirty seconds, or useless jumbo-tron, or dancing mascots. It's just a ballpark, with baseball being played the way God intended it. (But the Cubs myth is a little over-hyped, but that's different.) You go to Wrigley Field to watch a baseball game, not to watch it.

4. My internship is turning itself around nicely, as far as I can tell. We've made some sort of schedule and structure for the program so that feels like it's going to work. I'm making friends with the kids, making friends with the people I work with. But my intern advisor at the Chicago Center wants me to work at another place in the morning, which I don't think will work at all. I might get stuck with extra work from him, which would be fine.

I'm still a little strapped for time, here... leaving for work in about ten minutes. I'll talk more about my intern next time, I realize I'm being kind of vague. So just wait.

Kisses,

Steve

With Love From Chicago

Dear Blogger,
I've uploaded photos and it's about time, too!
Here they are:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/10959363@N05/sets/72157602008651454/detail/

I'll let you know when I post more-- it's easier to do them in batches and I have a monthly limit on Flickr.

Enjoy,
Steve

Gentle Revolution

Dear Blogger,

My friend David wrote, performed, and co-produced this video with his friend that I think is too good to go un-noted.



Yours,
Steve