Skip to main content

Diēs LXXIII: I don't like losing things.

Today was another exhilarating and exhausting day at Yale. I'm on my train home now, about to crash (missing everyone), but I do want to first post about my experience. I will write about today in "backwards chronological" order. 

I just read Sonnet 73, a piece about aging in which Shakespeare describes his state as one very similar to the autumn trees all around. 

Awaiting my train, I ran into a spirited Certamen team for whom I had moderated earlier today. They seemed delighted to see "our proctor girl our proctor girl!!" and we talked about their rounds and my approach to enjoying Certamen. 

Dashell came to see me off at the station, and we enjoyed a taxi ride and train wait full of the "usual" wonderful philosophical (though today very sleepy on my part) conversations. 

Saying goodbye to my Latin family was difficult! I had to head out just as the semifinals were going to start, but not without bidding my incredible friends Kelly, Gabe, and Ben "vale." (Ketan, Eliot, and Sidhi seemed super busy!!) It was also great to catch up with my very own prodigy Andrew Coffee a bit. I am so proud of his maturity and scholarship. 

Of course, Jane Darby and I spent upwards of ten minutes hugging and shrieking and weeping and moping and loving. I feel like before this, we were two Classics-enthused girls who had been told by Howard Chang that we had a lot in common, but this weekend allowed us to connect a lot over our high school and JCL experiences, calm one another down when necessary (often), and become even closer as the twin sisters that we are. 

 Before farewells, I kept score as Jane moderated for the novice level. It was great to be able to chat with some of the younger teams in between rounds and encourage them to continue to foster their fondness for Latin. 

Over lunch, I met up with my friend Mike Zimm, who is working toward his Classics PhD at Yale. Mike's grandfather, Mr. Deutsch, is a substitute teacher at Flint Hill who influenced me incredibly during my time there, always encouraging me in my every endeavor and keeping up to date with my academic pursuits. When Mike and I meet, we seem every time to start from current events and end up somewhere between Vergil and Pindar -- it's great. Like his grandfather, Mike is incredibly supportive of my intellectual adventures; talking to him is so truly uplifting!


I spent the morning moderating intermediate level rounds. Eliot and I had a great time alternating between reading and keeping score -- my Harvard brother kept me sane!

Before the competition began, Ben gave his remarks about the philosophy behind hosting a Certamen at Yale -- sharing with our younger counterparts the Classics-bred qualities (discipline, critical thinking, etc.) from which we have all benefitted so much. Ben has done such a good job throughout this process keeping everyone organized and on top of it. Props to him and the rest of the crew for making the first ever Champions' League of Certamen at Yale a great success!

At this point, the Harvard bus landed. Seeing my boys Eliot and Gabe was the best!! 

As Certamen teams started to arrive, Kelly Lawyer and I went on a crazy journey to find paperclips for the rounds. After searching in vain for a store that would sell them, we ended up borrowing a box from a Citibank employee -- thanks, man! We also did a Starbucks run, supplying the zombies (especially the ginger one) with their indispensable morning caffeine.

Having slept around 4am, I arose not entirely broken around 8 this morning. As I was getting ready, Jane Darby dropped by to make sure I was awake, and inform me that none of the other organizers had slept last night. Not a blink. Not a wink. (How everyone looked so good and acted so relatively normal today continues to baffle me.) I soon stepped out of Silliman and into a rush of Yale.


Thanks for a great weekend, Bulldogs. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Bygones -- by Marina Keegan

I had a dream the other night that I was checking my email.

That dream sucks.



And woke to woes of seniors writing

love songs for tomorrow and

Tomorrow and the melodies

That flirt us forward, whispering

the next thing and the next thing

and  – so we beat on

birds flocking south until we

circle round and realize maybe

maybe all that running wasn’t worth it.



Maybe we should build a cabin.

Or teach high school.

Or use our hands.

My palms are smooth as words –

Weak with fashion and double spaces.



I want everyone else’s club and job and class

The grass I sleep in always browner than

Than that around erasing dreams

To sit and breathe because you

Only bank for two years then it's over

And twenty two is nothing new

It’s just another chance to build

For when we’re twenty three

And twenty four

And time begins to sell for more than

Any 9 a.m. to never.



We’re not stuck.

That's the thing, we're not stuck.

We owe no one our nothings.

Yale will be what it was,

Gothic dreams of lucky, of…

Day 351: You can place your bets, world.

I started the day with a grave mistake -- eating butter chicken for breakfast. Those ten minutes of scream-inducing euphoria were hardly worth the sluggish pace and sessile nature of the rest of my day. I attempted to counteract the unfailing lethargy which results from consumption of Punjabi food by swallowing down some coffee ice cream, thereby only adding to my foods-that-should-not-be-eaten-for-breakfast list and exacerbating the problem.


We left home before noon for Shenandoah National Park, with hot air ballooning dreams for the day. We soon learned, however, that due to impending thunderstorms, this mission would not be successful. We instead spent the day exploring the side of the park we've never seen before.


We had a lunch of fried chicken at one of the park's rest stops before piling back in the car and driving around some more. At a lookout point, we met a park ranger who showed us the coat of a lynx found in the park and suggested a trail for us to hike. We fou…

My Move to Mumbai: Frequently Asked Questions

Hello, dear readers!

By now, you've probably heard the news: in Ratna's-gap-year fashion, I've taken a leap and moved to Mumbai for a one-year consultancy with Aangan Trust, a nonprofit that works to make sure that even the most vulnerable child has the right to a childhood free from trafficking, child marriage, child labor, and abuse.

Transitions are tough, and it turns out that this one is no different, even though it's one that I've chosen for myself and been very excited about for a while. It's one thing to pack up your bags from New York and move to a new place in Mumbai; it's quite another to adjust to the daily reminders of the little things you don't yet understand about where you live, and the small ways in which you don't fit in.

Part of what has made the transition tricky is a stream of (well-intentioned) questions that sometimes make me feel like I have to justify why I made the choice to be here. These can be hard for me because someti…