Snark-Academia

I do apologize for the lax blogging of late, but 1. I moved apartments, and 2. my 6 year old IBM crashed its poor harddrive, so I've been sans computer for 2 weeks. Which was a bit liberating, actually--I checked my email a lot less and spent more time reading actual books, but I'm glad to have it back.

In the meantime, I had a few academic run-ins that were both amusing and slightly scary, and so will share them with you now.

Case 1: I had my Arabic midterm 1 1/2 weeks ago, and prior to that a friend and I were studying by making up sentences, which became slightly ridiculous sentences as we were trying to practice plurals and indefinite vs definite nouns. So sentences like "we used to listen to music in elementary schools" or "I lived in a large house with Arabs." We came up with a few questions, so I emailed them to my professor, who is a Phd student whom I am on good terms with. Now, some of these questions I definitely knew the answer to, but for some reason I either panicked or blanked on them the night before the test. This is what he sent back:

"DO NOT PANIC. DO NOT SECOND GUESS YOURSELVES.

I think you guys have learned an awful lot in a short period of time and you are not sure if you know what you are doing. Go back over your homeworks and quizzes and assess yourself. You will see that you DO know what you are doing. To answer your questions...

1. You have only learned to use كل before a definite noun, roughly meaning "all..." you have SEEN it used before indefinite, but have not been drilled on it. so don't try to learn it now.

2. when will you ever need to say "we listen to music in elementary schools" vs "we listen to music in THE elementary schools?"

3. You have not been taught to use ان between verbs. So don't use it. You will shoot your eye out.
4. Arabs are arabs until they are THE arabs.

5. I won't even...!@#

But seriously, these have become philosophical questions. If you are still not satisfied, just spend the rest of the night and morning memorizing the following ridiculous sentence:

كنت اسكن في بيت كبير مع عرب ولكن الان هم يستمعون الى موسقى كل اليوم في مدارس ابتدائية .

I used to live in a big house with Arabs but now they listen to music all day in elementary schools.

*smirky laugh*

elijah
let me know if you have any more questions...i'm enjoying your panic attacks :) jk"

Oh, and if you notice the plurals above, it is because he sent this to the WHOLE CLASS. Because as he told me later, "if the others saw that you were freaking out [I interjected, "I WAS NOT FREAKING OUT"], I figured it would make them realize you were all in the same boat." My response was:

"Thanks for sending this to everyone! ;) have a great night, y'all.
ps for your information I plan to use ALL of these sentences all the time, everywhere, on every quiz, forever. jiim kaaf!"

I proceeded to memorize the sentence:

كنت اسكن في بيت كبير مع عرب ولكن الان هم يستمعون الى موسقى كل اليوم في مدارس ابتدائية .

(I used to live in a big house with Arabs but now they listen to music all day in elementary schools.) And the next day on the test, we had to write a paragraph about ourselves. Being a slight smart-aleck when the mood strikes me, my paragraph began, "I used to live in a big house with Arabs but now I live in Bloomington. My parents work in Jamestown and now they listen to music all day in elementary schools." He drew a smiley face next to it. I got a 96% on that midterm.

Case 2: Slightly less-positive but more expected, I got back feedback on my seminar paper from last semester--my professor has been out of the country and just scanned us her comments. My comments start off with:

"First, with regards to language, your sentence structures and word choices are weak; the switches of topics and paragraphs are abrupt; your prose is neither crisp nor energetic; and your syntax is wobbly."

And it just got worse from there: my reasoning was fallacious, my source-citing egregious, and my overall approach laconic. An 18 page paper and no positive comments to be found, and she wrote all over it, which included crossing out entire paragraphs. I really appreciate the time it must have taken to write all those comments, I agree with a lot of her points, and I wasn't overly proud of this paper, but as this is a professor who referred to "clouds" in one of her articles as "aerial cumuli" I suspect that we might have a difference of opinion in certain areas. Still and all, though--I've been wanting more constructive criticism, and I've got it!

Isfahan, Pie, and Saturday Adventures

Another perfect, Midwestern-y, Bloomington-y Saturday. Why? Well, I shall tell you!

We went to the Farmer's Market as per usual and finally, finally, finally PEACHES are here! I got a small basket (there were 9 in it) from a very nice Amish man. I know he was nice, not only because he had a nice smile, but also because two little girls were looking at some peaches next to me and both were holding some rocks (they were probably about 3 and 5 years old). And he said to them, "how would you like to trade one of your rocks for one of my peaches?" and they looked at their dad and he said, "ok," and so they did. Sometimes people make me very happy.

Then we each got a perfect onion (seriously, it is the most beautiful onion I've ever seen), and I got green beans and a small bag of kettle corn, which a couple in plain dress cooks in a big big kettle (well duh) every week. My friends also got local honey, zucchinis, tomatoes, and cucumbers. Then we went to an Indian buffet. There are (I think) 3 Indian restaurants in town and now I have been to all 3. This one is the most cost effective, but not the tastiest. Still and all, though, good naan, good saag aloo, and quite a good variety of dishes for a lunch buffet.

We parted ways, and two of us walked across campus to get to our bus stop. When we got there, there was a woman waiting for the bus who needed to get to Target, but wasn't sure what bus to take, or if she was in the right spot (she was). We got to chatting, and she said she was from Iran and had been here for 4 days. She'll be here for a month before applying for a research visa to start a post-doc in African-American literature here in the fall. She asked me how old I was and when I said 24, she asked if I was married. And I said no (my friend had just taken a phone call so she missed this) and the woman told me that I was too young to get married anyway. "Get your degree first," she said, nodding. "That's what I did with my masters, and then I got married, and had twins. They are 12 now, and back in Iran with their father." She got her PhD in India, teaches in Tehran, and likes studying African-American women, "because we are women, and so we should be feminists. yes?" (we said yes, too.)

We told her we were studying art history, and that we had just taken an Islamic art class and were interested in that. So she started telling us about visiting Isfahan and what it is like now, which was VERY exciting as Isfahan is straight-up awesome. I now pull out my trusty class notebook to tell you that Isfahan was the capital of Safavid Iran from 1590ish-1722 (and is now the 3rd largest city in Iran). It was known as the "pearl of Persia," and is kind of equivalent (except bigger and more awesome) to Versailles in terms of gilt, grandeur, and grandiosity. According to an official chronicler named Iskandar Beg Munshi, "Isfahan is half the world they say/but by saying so, they only go halfway." In other words: once you saw Isfahan, especially in the 17th century, you didn't need to see anything else. Everything else paled in comparison.

Most importantly, images!
This is the Mosque of Shaykh Lutfullah (1603-1619). This was the second mosque there, and we're not quite sure why there were two. Possibly it was a mosque specifically for women, but it was more likely a private mosque for royals, as a tunnel connected it to the palace. It looks an awful lot like the Dome of the Rock, which very well could have been intentional. It is completely cloaked in blue and gold tile work, and there is stucco-designs on the windows so it looks like stained glass. Some interior shots:
This is the Music Room, or Chini-Khane (China Room), which I believe was located in the palace. This is where the displays of art were, well, displayed. It was a trophy room and proto-museum, which symbolized, through art collecting, the far-reaching power of the Safavids.

Speaking of far-reaching power, this room is one of the "mirror rooms," and it was furnished in Venetian glass. Which, for an Italianist like myself, is pretty exciting! Also, I weirdly just found out there is a Duke Ellington suite called "Isfahan." Check it out here.

Our bus came, and our new friend (whose name we never learned) attempted to get in the back door of the bus, while telling us to "tell the bus driver that I want to go to the Target." So I was on the sidewalk telling her that she wanted the other bus that stopped there, and that it would be there soon, and there were maps on it, and to get in the front door when the bus got there, while my friend tried to stall the bus driver, who CLEARLY saw me, but shut the door and started to pull away. So I had to jog after it and tap on the door and dive on. And then we took seats and dissolved into giggles.

The rest of the day was spent lounging about, having long phone chats with various family members (including my super cousin who got to see Jeter's 3000 hit today in person! most excellent), and making PIE. I love pie. It is (if I had to pick) my favorite dessert. I love how they look, I love the fruit, I love apple pie with cheese and pecan pie with nothing, and I have not, until today, made a pie on my own. One of my best friends from college works in a pie shop, so she was always in charge of them, and both my mother and sister are great at making pies, so I can usually just enjoy the fruits of other peoples labors. Today I did peach (with my market peaches!) and it turned out quite well. It was less runny than I was expecting, although I think I need a remedial lattice making class! Photographic evidence:

Also, if anyone has a foolproof crust making method, let me know it, please. I used refrigerated dough, which is fine, but I'd love to make my own. The problem is that I have about a foot of available counter space, so rolling out doesn't work very well.

So, pie. Summer. Friends. A slight sunburn. It doesn't get much better than that. And if you are interested in more things pie related, check out Pie in the Sky, a Brit TV show from the mid-90s about a policeman who retires to open a restaurant and keep chickens in the backyard but who solves crimes on the side. Or Pushing Daisies, a really great TV show about a piemaker--the dreamy Lee Pace--who owns the Pie Hole pie-restaurant and has the ability to bring the dead back to life for limited amounts of time. He teams up with a private investigator to solve crimes, since he can ask the victims what happened to them. Kristin Chenowith is the waitress. Jim Dale narrates. Delightful. Or Waitress, a sweet and sad movie about pie, babies, abuse, waitressing, and love. To quote Waitress:

"Baby don't you cry, gonna make a pie, gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle/Baby don't be blue, gonna make for you, gonna make a pie with a heart in the middle/Gonna make a pie from heaven above, gonna be filled with strawberry love/Baby don't you cry, gonna make a pie, and hold you forever in the middle of my heart."

Successes and Failures of the Day

Success 1: I read a poem in Arabic in front of my class.
Actually, I read two stanzas of a poem, rather than all five, because we were running out of time, but still. Four weeks ago I couldn't read the alphabet, so I'm rather pleased. And here is the poem (in English!), lest you were curious:
This Is Forgetfulness by Mahmoud Darwish

This is forgetfulness around you: billboards
awakening the past, urging remembrance. Reigning in
the speeding time at traffic lights,
and closing up the squares

A marble statue is forgetfulness. A statue
staring at you: Stand up as I do to look like me.
And place roses on my feet

A hackneyed song is forgetfulness. A song
chasing the housewife in celebration of the happy
occasion, in the bed and in the VCR room,
and in her vacant salon, and in her kitchen

And a monument is forgetfulness. Monuments
on the roads shaped like bronze trees
adorned with eulogies and eagles

And a museum empty of tomorrow, cold,
narrating the seasons already chosen from the start.
This is forgetfulness: that you remember the past
and not remember tomorrow in the story.

Words that I have actually learned thus far: remembrance, housewife, room, trees, and tomorrow. Darwish was Palestinian, so read into that what you will. My professor recommended him and he is quite good.

Failure 1: I cannot spell in Arabic.
I'm really, really close most of the time, but that doesn't really count, does it? I put in the wrong "s" or "d" sound (d vs dal vs dthal vs dthol) or put in a long vowel when it should only be a short vowel. It is slowly getting better, but I have been pulling only a 75ish on quizzes. The last time I got a C was in high school math. I reallllllly do not want a C. I have a quiz tomorrow, so hopefully that will go well!

Success 2: I can sort of write in Arabic!
Exhibit: A snippet of homework from a few days ago. I've been experimenting with a fountain pen.
I think this is particularly relevant since Indiana public schools are not requiring cursive to be taught as of next year, which I am really sad about. Because I love love love handwriting!!

Failure 2: I totally missed the bus
And not just missed it, missed it in pathetic fashion. I was standing at the bus stop tonight to head back to campus for a workshop on Ukranian Egg painting (Pysanky?) and looked up as the bus was driving away. The fact that I was zoning out enough to NOT notice a bus right next to me suggested that I would be better off staying home anyway. I've been feeling sick to my stomach the past few days--I blame either stress, having to eating too many dinners on the run or standing next to my kitchen sink, or some bad shredded cheese, but in any case--I stayed in, studied with a friend, heckled the kids on Jeopardy, and ate that all-curing food: toast with cinnamon sugar on it. And now I'm (almost!) going to bed!

Focus On: Muqarnas

My usual Art of the Week format (which actually happens every, oh, 2 months or so) is to discuss art from the IU art museum. However, as that building is closed for the summer for restoration (because IM Pei is not very good and we have a leaky giant glass roof which is a wee bit of a safety hazard) I am bringing you something very different today: MUQARNAS.
Muqarnas domes are some of the most amazing, awe-inspiring things I have ever seen--and I've never even seen one in person! I first heard of and saw them in my Islamic Survery class last Fall, so most of this info is cribbed from my notes. Muqarnas were the brainchild of the Mongol-Ilkhanids. In my very not-well formed opinion, the Ilkhanids are the most fascinating era of Islamic art. Their dynasty lasted from 1250-1350ish, and they were Mongols who moved into Persia (now Iran) and conquered the land there--but actually, the land conquered THEM, too. They converted to Islam and settled down, bringing some Mongol-nomad architectural styles with them and making them permanent (I almost said "concretesized them," but that is nerdy and I don't think that is even a word!) AND Ilkhanid artists produced stunning stunning stunning manuscripts, because many of the artists were from other areas and the Mongols brought them with them to Persia as war-booty. Hint: I wrote a paper about the Ilkhanids a few months ago. And I totally dig them.But ANYWAY. Muqarnas. In 1275, the summer palace of Takht-i Sulayman was built, and is the only Ilkhanid palace that is currently extant. The building is constructed of circular or octagonal areas, which is weird since those shapes were usually used for mausoleums, but Mongol Yurts (tents) were usually circular, so this may be a nod to their heritage. And found in one of these octagonal areas was a slab, an early blueprint (which is super cool, by the way) of a Muqarnas dome.
Muqarnas means "place of cornices," and is a dome composed of many, many niches. They are often described as faceted, prismatic, or honeycombed--or at least, that is how my professor described them. The woman has a way with words! There are many benefits to a muqarnas dome: they add volume when you need volume (the Ilkhanids liked to make things as big as possible), there are no intrinsic limits in size, and no finite composition, so you could make the structure as big as your resources would let you. The mathematician al-Kashi described it as "a ceiling like staircases with facets". They are almost gemlike in their appearance, like you live in a diamond. I've had a rotating series of muqarnas images as the background on my computer for the past week, as they remind me that this is why I am taking Arabic.

More images!
(I'm not going attempt to identify all of these, as I don't know enough about them all, nor do I trust Google to steer me correctly! I know some are from Isfahan and at least one is from the Timurid Gur-i Mir, but I am not sure about the rest.)

Intrigued? Check out a post that my friend Aleah over at Artgazer wrote a while back about the Gur-i Mir. The Timurids, as you will see, were also Mongol descendents and nearly as interesting as the Ilkhanids--all of those rulers had so much hubris! (Why DO I love rulers with hubris AND their art?? This explains my love of 17th century popes, too.)

Thursday Slack-Off

Things that I have done today that do not involve Arabic or anything remotely productive:
--spent two hours at the pool at my apartment complex (gorgeous day, by the way)
--watched three episodes of How I Met Your Mother
--ate a whole avocado
--went for a long walk
--got my bangs cut
--went out for usual Thursday night drinks, which among the five of us involved a piece of cheesecake, nachos, a veggie burger, onion strings and four Long Island Iced Teas
--went to another bar to say hi to a few more friends (and now I have a stamp on my hand and it will not come off...I'm going to be one of "those girls" in class tomorrow...)
--went and got ice cream
--went back to a friend's place and watched an episode of Swamp People. If you don't know what Swamp People is, you are a better human being than I. It's a reality show about alligator hunters in the bayou. The same things happen every episode (spoiler alert: capturing alligators) but for some reason we are all riveted. The best guy, Troy, sings random songs and has a hired gun named Elizabeth, and he says, "SHOOT 'EM! SHOOT 'EM ELIZABETH" pretty much every episode and it has become our catchphrase. No good.
--did about three-quarters of the NY Times crossword puzzle between three of us. Not too shabby!

So that is why I have to get up in less than six hours yet am not remotely done with homework. At least tomorrow is Friday! And that means: naps.