Election Day

My mind, body and soul are on the edge right now, racing, racing, racing. I think constantly of next Tuesday, when we will find out how the future of our country will be shaped. I am simultaneously filled with extreme sadness, anxiety and panic, and jubilation over the potentional outcome. By way of this harrowing example, I can now clearly see and understand how intermingled life and politics are.





This is not the first election that I have been physically and emotionally struck by. The depression that followed Bush's reelection was minimized by my uninvolvement in the political process due to age and being involved in only my immediate (at the time, high school) surroundings. Life for me then consisted of International Baccalaureatte courses, art, dance, theatre and friends.

My first voting experience was in my freshman year of college and it proved to be a complete disappointment. I was awkwardly registered at my brother's house in California and still had my California driver's license, although I had not lived in my former home state for a year and a half, spending a year in Arizona and then moving to Oregon for school. My ballot arrived later than it should have, as I tried to vote absentee, and even then the issues were not an immediate concern for me. Of course, I was all for funding schools and ensuring civil liberties (although that particular was fairly routine and did not have any striking issues), but California was no longer my state to lay claim to. I hadn't had a official (read: not under-the-table) job by that point and so I was not even paying taxes. I am fairly positive that my ballot arrived too late, and I was left disillusioned, wondering what good my voice could do and why I saw myself as involved in the process.

After settling in at my college, exploring Portland and getting a feel for the place, it started to feel like home. Home. That was a geo-emotional relationship I had not formed with a place since childhood. I became an Oregonian, I started to get informed about Portland politics and like, a many liberal arts college student, about domestic and international affairs. I was old enough to vote, had developed the interest and the passion for it, and now all I needed was an election to excercise my new-found citizenship and treasured status as an Oregon resident. I strongly believe that I needed to establish this sense of home in a regional sense before I could begin to consider myself or act in the interest of other Americans. I had a job and witnessed the way that taxes swallowed up a portion that appeared significantly large to me, a low-earning college student. But then I saw the measures and the individuals, schools and small businesses behind those measures, and my tax contribution, as well as my opportunity to have a voice in how those taxes were spread out, made it all matter.

When Sam Adams and Sho Dozono went head-to-head earlier this year, I was watching eagerly from the sidelines. I was a Portlander, through and through, and this was my election just as much as it was any other Multnomah County resident's. I developed what was to be called a "political cry" which I will readily admit to be the epitome of cheesiness. Think JFK kissing babies as onlookers sob... Only not that bad. I watched Sam Adams' campaign videos constantly and kept tabs on his website. I growled under my breath at "Sho Gets It. Sho Gets It Done." lawn signs. "What did that even mean?," I thought. What is that weird get 'er done mentality? I would much rather "Move Portland Forward," thank you very much. I looked at polls, read [alternative] weeklies keeping tabs on the campaign, and then... I voted.

I voted in the fantasic Oregon way using a ballot by mail. This system appeals to me on so many levels, as a voter can actively research and contemplate his/her outlook and the politician or measure involved. There is no standing in a little booth circling options nervously but rather a crucial thought process and frequent democratic debate. That is what voting looks like for me. That is how I believe it should function.

Seeing Sam Adams' victory made my heart swell with pride. "Look!," I though, "Look! He was successfull and I helped! I played a role in electing who I, and many others, felt was most fit for the job." Since then I have been convinced time and time again that I, and that we, the people of Portland, made the right choice. I frequently went to art openings and events at the city hall, where I saw Sam Adams (and subsequently got star-struck... each and every time) as well as in a quirky North Portland parade. Yes, he is absolutely right for the job.

The election that is now at hand, and in which I have already cast my absentee vote, is one that can implement change on a much, much, much grander scale. As liberals, we have faced numerous disappointments and realized some of our worst fears over the past eight years. Eight years. Think about that. I was twelve when George W. Bush came into office. My teenage years and begining of early adulthood have been claimed by that government. I do not want to be a disillusioned American, although I do find the gallows humor that many other liberals use to ease the pain of the situation rather hilarious in a soviet fashion.

So now, my thoughts are consumed with this mantra: "Please Obama. Yes, Obama. This nation needs Obama." I have voted, I have debated with others, and I have researched my views. Aside from offering time or money, what more is there to do?

Please Obama. Yes, Obama. This Nation needs Obama.

Reluctance to Speak

I had a really good day and participated in my Psychology course at the university by speaking up in discussion and talking to the professor after class. I got the impression that he really supports my taking the course as an international student and is eager to have me in the class to provide a slighlty different perspective. My current experience with intercultural communication and the reaction of the Germans I talk to is that no one expects me to be perfect - except for myself, due to unrealistic expectations - and that they are more interested in the content within my sentences. This, of course, is a relief, although I do wish I could articulte myself more clearly and professionally.

It is interesting to observe how the university system and class structure here work. I am so used to speaking up in class all the time and would do so more often here if the language barrier didn't exist. This reluctance to speak is something only around native German speakers, because at my LC courses, I always say things in class, which is maybe because I feel comfortable speaking in a familiar group that is composed of people who are also at the intermediate level in German.

I had a hard time realizing that although I am younger than all of the students in my class, I have had more semesters of college than many of them. What's more, I found it very weird and shocking how the students sometimes just stared dumbly at the professor when he asks a question. Yet there are a few really interesting people who always have commentary, and after the initial lag in discussion, people contribute insightful thoughts. I was surprised however, when the professor mentioned an experiment or theory with which the students were unfamiliar, and it made me realize what a good education I am getting in the US and how I take a lot of the things learned in my classes there for granted.


On another note, I had vegan sushi today, it was remarkably good. I think it was also raw... hah, different meaning when there is no fish involved. Two friends and I had a late lunch at Saf, a delicious vegan restaurant near Marienplatz. We all moaned with delight at the quality of food, sampled one another's dishes frequently and switched rapidly back and forth between English and German. I also rode my bike again for the first time in far too long. I often miss the freedom and quirkiness of the Portland bike and cafe culture.

Learning

We talked about autism today in my Thinking and Problem-Solving course, in terms of how autistic individuals, varying depending on where on the spectrum they may be, go about reasoning and solving problems. I was especially eager to see how autism is perceived by German university students, and really perked up when another student mentioned that he had worked with autistic children in the past. It was difficult to suppress an overzealous "Me too! Me too!" We also discussed how the thought process of an autistic individual is in fact deviant (with taxation, ability to find correlations), and then again, how we can't really know for sure, except through experiments that in the end are still flawed, because you can't access a person's inner thoughts.

Good news: I spoke up in class, and understood the highly complex text, and could really follow the conversation! My presentation is not until January 19th, and that gives me so much hope. The professor is really kind and is good at provoking the students, as we need much prodding to begin the discussion, but everyone is very humorous, intelligent and detail-oriented once they open up. The language barrier is definitely tangible, but it is not as much as a hinderance for me as I had feared. Many psychological terms are very similar in English and German and the methods are practically identical.

In my Contemporary Literature course we are reading Der Vorleser, and I am ridiculously enthused about it. The relationship between the two main characters is especially interesting, scandalous and racy, and the way the story is told - with small clues throughout that are so gratifying to notice - is very intellectual and also thrilling.

I am learning plenty outside of class too and having a lot of fun. It is so strange that I felt very "grown-up" before coming here and only just now am learning to truly let go and enjoy myself and the people around me more than ever before. I want to capture my happiness today and keep it forever, but I think it was just me feeling like myself again, and I think that is a pattern that will continue.

It is strange to make these important self-discoveries simultaneously and on a different continent. There is so much questioning, rejoicing in learning, and sometimes painful trial and error.

Maybe this is just what being 20 is?

If you will humor a little self-indulgence, I think a major reason behind why I am suddenly ridiculously happy is that I am feeling very intelligent for the first time since... probably high school. I always felt somewhat intelligent at Lewis & Clark, but now I have this opportunity to exercise my intellect (sounds lovely, hmm?) in a foreign language, and I am just surprised by how quickly the brain can interpret these new words and make sense of everything.

Zürich, Berlin

I just returned today from Zürich, Switzerland, where I was visiting my relatives during a short break before classes start. Last week, the entire group was in Berlin, and this was incredible. It feels like many other big cities, but all over you can feel the presence of history. For example, in front of many of the houses, there are golden bricks in the ground with the names of Jews who lived there and were sent to concentration camps during WWII. There is also a huge gap between two apartment buildings where a building that was destroyed in the war existed. On the side of the two remaining buildings, the names of the people are listed in the place where their homes once were.

It was also incredible to see remaining bits of the Wall, especially since I wrote my Internal Assessment senior year on art in East and West Berlin and the symbolic importance of the Berlin Wall in determining the divergent artistic styles. Aside from the historical significance, Berlin is also amazing for art, music, second hand shops, international and cheap cuisine, museums and public transportation. I kept saying, "ich könnte hier gerne wohnen" - I could happily live here.

I saw one opera [Bertolt Brecht, The Three Penny Opera], one play [in Spanish with German translation projected on the wall], and one musical [Linie 1 about the subway and East/West Berlin in the 1980s]/ Really good, cheap food exists all over in Berlin, as well as fancy cafes. I ate so many Döners (like gyros) from a stand near our hostel in Kreuzberg (formerly the American sector during the Cold War), as well as raspberries, carrots, almonds and couscous from a cute market on the corner.

So Berlin is amazing and I really want to return. It is nice to be in Munich, though, and it was wonderful to be in Zürich just recently, as it felt more like home than ever before because I can actually speak the language. It is so incredible to speak with my relatives in German. I feel like I get so much more out of the conversation and can really appreciate their company.

Also, in Munich I have really started to make a life for myself. There are so many people to connect with and I feel like I am waking up and discovering life like I never have before. It is weird, to think that you have a firm grip on who you are and what you want in life, and to then realize that you are nowhere near finished deciding. I see now that I do not have to plan everything in this hyper-linear fashion and that no one is making me do anything. When a person is so internally driven and does not question why s/he does something but instead feels that it is both necessary and the next obvious step (e.g. college), it goes somewhat unquestioned. It feels odd to be in the questioning space again.