August Cape Cod

My home away from home, that source of peace and hope amidst the fierce strangeness and the desolate isolation of my estrangement continues to be Falmouth, home of my brother in all but blood, Jesse Swain, and his family. This weekend, Jesse was not here holding for me his usual comradeship and loyalty, life having taken us on different paths. But to Peter, his brother, Mr. and Mrs. Swain, and his Nana, Mrs. Fuhrman, in nobility of spirit and kindness of heart, this mattered not at all. And not only did they treat me as a valued friend of their son, but as a son of theirs true and dear. And thus they have become to me, family in every sense that matters. For that, for them, I am blessed, and grateful. They and their home are in every sense august, a much-needed hint of inspiration in this otherwise difficult August.

I believe that's enough out of me. A taste;

For those days of happiness, for those nights of serenity and security, I owe them a great debt.

For their gift of the beloved waters, their silver and salt

For their sincerity and respect, for sharing their lives, their loves, their ideas, their feelings


For sharing the wonder of written word and masterful music
For keeping me from writing such lyrics of aloneness, or such music so brilliantly pained

Washburn Island

Menauhant Beach

Falmouth Inner Harbor

"Baked in the Hole" since 1982

The Falmouth Grille

Together all, at my graduation in May

I hope a day comes when I can be half so generous, half so kind. I hope you see a glimmer of how I felt, what I saw, that weekend. Let me assure you, every visit is just as precious, and wholly unforgettable. Beautiful people make beautiful places magic. I hope your every moment is so. Good night to you all.

New England Summer Pt. 3

The 28th of July dawned bright and beautiful, and a sudden urge took me to take a long walk and enjoy the brilliant clarity of the air. Two hours later, I walked into lab, and worked for six hours. Feeling highly accomplished, I continued my day of action with a bike ride with my friend Sara, to the Worcester Public Water Supply Reservoirs, along the bike route that goes there from Park Ave. It was as if that route belonged to another dimension, separate and apart from Worcester. You could not tell you were in a city, and it is at times like those, my friends, that I am happiest. Wind in our faces, and green and sparkling silver and blue everywhere, we biked for two hours and more, and I felt I could have gone on forever. I got back to my house, and found my bathroom flooded, as something had gone wrong with the pipes. I felt like this was going to ruin my day, but as soon as I had done, as if she knew exactly when I needed it most, my friend Liz called me, and asked me if I wanted to go rock-climbing. So we took off, myself, my friend Aaron, and her, and she gave me my birthday present, a night at the rock-climbing gym, and more importantly, a new experience. It was fantastic. I climbed, and bouldered, beginner-level climbs really, but I managed them and that was great, for I'd never actually done anything quite like it before. We came back and celebrated our energy and vitality, and then I was off to see Cali and Miah and Colin, and we played a rail-road track building game that was suspiciously like Risk. That day was the fullest and most satisfying of the summer here, starting at 5am, and ending at 3am. Crazy, huh?

On the 31st and 1st, I was with my friend Dave on a 4 1/2 hour car ride to Portland, through torrents of rain, and throughout we shared music, and laughed continuously, enjoying people-watching (car-watching) and being watched. We got to my friend Joe's house in Portland, and saw Carly, one of my best friends, there. Portland was such a good city, it felt to me like a larger version of Brattleboro, green and wholesome, but also quite the city, bustling and full of life. Half the time we were there, we played with their dog, Hobbes, the sweetest and most loveable golden ever. The other half we spent at Crescent Beach. That place was gorgeous, right off of a forest/marshland, with a stream bisecting the beach and running into the ocean. The stream was blood-red with iron in the water, and as it came into the sea it sank underneath the lighter saltwater, and caught by currents, made lovely patterns of red in the blue canvas of the Atlantic. I collected many rocks and sea-shells, relapsing into an old hobby of mine. Really, I just like shiny things. We had a good dinner at a tavern nearby, and when we got back, we made a fire outside. Sitting there, with Hobbes next to us, drawn close to the fire outside our home (cave), was such a primeval pleasure.

Sunday the 2nd we came back, and my friend Becky had finally come back from her trip to Jordan and was visiting in Worcester. Kind and generous both she and Emily were, showering me with birthday presents. We went to a cafe like we have back home, a rarity in these parts; we sat outside and chatted and drank our tasty brews. The Bean Counter, I believe was its name, on Pleasant St. Then we went right across the street to Corner Grille, far and away the best pizza place in Worcester. We shared thoughts on books we'd read; those days I was reading the sayings of Confucius, and thinking about the Bhagavad-Gita, so it was both a pleasure and a need to share them, some of the oldest and yet most intelligent writings humans have ever achieved.

The next day, the 3rd, was Monday, which was 10 cent wings night at Peppercorn's. I'd never gone, but Liz and Aaron invited me, and I was delighted for another excuse to try something new. They were quite tasty. The 5th was Taco Night at Downing, we made really tasty ones, after going to Peppercorn's across the street for free drinks at the COPACE social. We went and sat out on the Dana quad on the grass, and brushed up on our French. I also got the chance to help Sara with photographing the full moon that night. It was an odd scene by any account, but if you did not know what was happening, it must have been so weird; there we were out on the sidewalk, with a tripod and a camera pointed at the moon and trees and houses, and us counting time for the exposure, at like 1am.

The 6th I had worked at the infodesk all day, and was quite tired and ready to go to bed, when I got a message from Emily saying that it was the 1st anniversary of the Abbey, and they had live music, a really funky, good, band, out on the patio of the Dive. I was like, ok, I guess I'll go have a drink and listen to a few songs and come back. And that's what they thought too. But no, we ended up staying and dancing until 1am, they were so good. Half of Clark was there that night, and the whole night had very spontaneously gone from a regular music night at the bar, to an all-out dance party. Everyone was unselfconscious about it too, which is the mark of the very best dance music, I think.

The 7th was Friday, and after working in lab until 1230 or so, I had lunch and gave Arabic lessons to Sara, who is perhaps the greediest learner I know. She might even be as bad as I am. Then I went with my friends Liz, Aaron, Cassie, and Kayleigh and a bunch of other people (NEW friends!) to Douglas State Forest, a beautiful forest and lake area, with Atlantic white cedar swampland as well. The water was beautifully warm, and chock full of interesting fish and plantlife to look at. The water was clear enough to look at from above, even down to a meter and a half, and it was even better with goggles, seeing the sun's beams spear through the water and the plants and the schools of fish that circled me. We went to Coney Island Hot Dogs after, in Worcester, and for the one time this summer, I broke my rule about buying red meat, in order to have this new experience.

And so, that concludes my adventures this summer so far, and looking back, I have done plenty in these 6 weeks, and have had some of the best times of my life. From now on I shall try to write about my experiences as they happen, to keep them fresh and infused with the true emotions and sensations of the moment, and not as filtered memories. I can try, anyway.

New England Summer Pt. 2

Ok, so I decided I couldn't wait. Installment number 2, coming up. Armed with a bottle of wine and with the tasty Kasteel Donker (I have to thank you, Erica and Molly, for introducing us), I headed up to Tweed River Music Festival, in Stockbridge, Vermont, for the Fourth of July weekend. It was my very first time camping (or pseudo-camping), and my first time seeing a music festival. So, in a grassy field, next to the forest and the beautiful Tweed River, between the high mountains of Vermont, came to me yet another spectacular piece of New England culture.

Emily frolicking in the forest. I think we were continuously frolicking for that entire weekend.

River!

Camping!


Kris Delmhorst. She was pretty great, but I didn't realize how good until I heard her studio albums on Pandora when I got back. Bow Thayer & the Perfect Trainwreck were pretty awesome too, as was Jeff Foucault, who I believe is playing with Kris in this photo. At midnight, they stopped playing because of the neighboring houses, but they just went right on down to the campfire we had going in the field, and played and sang there. The music was live, and alive around the fire. Such good cheer, and such belonging and fellowship, I didn't know how to make my smile go away as my face got sore, nor how to make my self feel less blissful as all thought fled and everything but being ceased to matter.

It was off and on raining all weekend, but it made everything look so much better when the light came out, because everywhere there were rainbows. It was the first time I'd seen a rainbow coming down all the way to the ground, in a field as Emily and I were taking a walk towards Stockbridge proper.

It was a shiny, colorful weekend.

On the way back. So content.


All the land was classic and familiar, and yet, never before had I actually seen such a place. Warm it was, and welcoming, and green with life everywhere you looked. Wholesome, I believe, is the right word.

Well, that was an overabundance of photos, but seeing as how it was the only time I'd actually had my camera on me this summer here in New England, I figured it'd break up the drab dryness of the text to follow.

I have no recollection of anything that happened between that 4th and the 8th, our next stop. I believe I was recovering from all the happiness. Not used to it, you know. But if I had recovered, I went right back to it, on Emily's birthday. After celebrating at Downing for a bit, we went off to Vincent's, a really cool bar right here in Worcester, that I had never known existed. I think this video captures a bit of its spirit, and a lot of the talent of Frank Morey, who lucky for us, was playing that Wednesday, as every Wednesday, but of whom we had never heard. This night was all about hidden gems, as you will see.

So, after the great time we had at Vincent's, we decided to go to a club. This was another first for me, and I have to say, a very surprisingly good one. I believe it was called Club Fusion, down in the canal area, on Water Street. Had tons of fun dancing. And then, instead of going home like sane people, we went to yet another bar, the Dive Bar. Awesome beer, some more dancing, and we found ourselves heading to a diner at 2:30am. I have to say, that when people told me Worcester had basically invented diners, I did not believe them. And I thought I knew what diners were. Oh no. Not at all. It felt like I was in a movie, or a book. Sitting alone (for a few minutes) at the counter of the diner at 3am, getting some food in this trailer they call the Boulevard Diner, felt inexpressibly romantic. Not romantic as in Hollywood movie romantic, but romantic in the truest sense (to me); I quote my friends Mr. Merriam and Mr. Webster on this: "marked by the imaginative or
emotional appeal of what is heroic, adventurous, remote, mysterious, or idealized". And then there was the food. And the pleasure of sitting with friends in the booth and sharing it. I shall never forget, or else I will have gone from the world for good and true, even should I still be walking it. And then, at some ridiculous hour, one of those hours of the night I usually live alone while others sleep, we sat down to continue our celebration, and watched George Harrison & Co. perform their concert in Bangladesh. I don't know what time I came home, but I remember that it was dawn. Now that, my friends, is a night. Were it up to me, every one of my nights would be as full. But a prisoner of my society and my biology, I am shackled in the dungeons of sleep, that destroyer of time and killer of opportunity.

Barely had the sights and sounds of that night faded from my eyes and ears, when on the evening of the 11th I made dinner for all those that had given me such memories and stories. We spent half the night cooking together, making blueberry turnovers with Sara, and ma3mool, which are best described in English as walnut sugar cookies. Apparently they taste quite similar to Italian wedding cookies. Mediterranean blood will tell, and all that. We made sbanekh w rozz too, a homely spinach stew with rice and pine nuts, which actually turned out to be quite tasty, especially with the sangria Casey made, and the Lebanese wine (Clos St. Thomas 2004) I brought. The night flew by in pleasant companionship, and the only complaint was that we could not be as we were forever. Honestly, I would have been fine with 5am, but then, I am insane. And potentially, those two things could be related.

A week later, I found myself cooking again, for myself and my roommate Jason and his friend. We had a grand old time, though we might have overdone the eating part of the night, moving from dinner, to ice cream at the Ice Cream Factory (the Clark Cougar ice cream is the best thing in the whole world, by the way), then to grinders and Domino's pasta bowls (oh chicken carbonara how I love you!). All this interspersed with the cloud Rorschach game, a funny little run-in with President Bassett, and Planet Earth. Ah, good times!

My friends Lauren, Helen, Jess, Joe, and Dave, all came to visit me from out of town, and they were all wonderful guests to have. Then, suddenly, it was the 25th, the day before my birthday, and I had no idea how we'd gotten so far along in the month. I had no plans for that weekend, and was quietly resigned to taking the weekend in solitude and quiet. But at 4pm on the 25th, I was invited to go visit Jeremiah, up Watertown way, near Boston, with some friends, who were leaving at 5pm. I think the idea of just taking off appealed to me, and so I did. We ended up all walking around Watertown in matching green shirts that Miah had from his work, with a whale in a Viking hat holding a pitcher of beer in its fin on the front. Pretty ridiculous, granted, but also highly amusing. We went around the town, which had quite more than its fair share of Armenian and Turkish shops and restaurants. And I was finally able to find some arak, and had real Lebanese drink for my birthday night. We all enjoyed ourselves immensely, and a party just sort of happened without anyone ever having planned one, and we were at least 10 people there that night.

Early morning of the 26th, my birthday, found us heading back to Worcester so I could go to lab (like I had gone on the morning of my graduation). If only results would come proportionate to the dedication one puts into our lab. But oh well. Lauren, my American sister, kidnapped me in the afternoon, and took me to the Ecotarium close to Worcester for my birthday, and we got to walk around in beautiful woodland and look at a polar bear, bald eagles (they are ENORMOUS, I never knew!), and river otters, among other things. And my friend Sara made me a wonderful dinner, and the night faded quietly and pleasantly away.

Ok, so its 330 am, about bed-time for me. I believe there's one more part left to this series, but that'll have to wait for tomorrow. I hope this deluge of detail has not bored you. It has been good for me to recollect and dwell on all these good memories. It has given my summer a depth and breadth I had not felt, in thinking only of the present and future. I hope it does something good for you too. Adieu.

New England Summer

Back from home, June 23rd. I need to remind myself with my bank statements, facebook, and my planner, of all that has happened since. It has been an amazing summer, but it is all just a blur in my memory, and what is now 6 weeks, seems to me like just one. Thankfully, I had a premonition this would be the case, and documented things much better than I usually would. There will be a time to reflect on this elasticity of time, and on my failing memory, but that time is not now. Now, I just want to show you my summer in fair New England. Mind you, it was not so fair, most of the time, and everything was grey and wet for days and weeks on end. But those days that it wasn't, they were celebrations of life and joy and light, and I am blessed to have had the chance to experience them. Just as I am blessed to have the friends who made it all possible.

Colin gets the first honorary mention, for picking me up from Logan. It was raining, obviously, and as always, worse in Worcester than elsewhere. But we got here safe, and thus in a kind of numbness and discomfort, I began this new stage of my life. I say discomfort, and numbness, not only in comment as to the weather, but also the almost vertigo-like sensation I had, in moving so quickly from Worcester, to Lebanon, and back, with just enough time so that as soon as I started getting settled, comfortable again with the culture and the atmosphere, I was off again, and had to do it all over again. I had people laughing at my rusty Arabic for a full month, and then, as it started coming back to its own, I was back, and people were laughing at my broken English. It is highly unpleasant to have my worlds so isolated from one another, and I suffer for it, even as I benefit, in complete immersion.

The very next morning after I arrived, I started my Master's research. In my lab, we look at a gene that's found in both humans and fruit flies (which are our research organism). Mutation in the gene is lethal in humans, meaning that humans cannot survive, or even be born, with it. However, in fruit flies, it only makes their wings shorter, and their eyes patchy. With a variety of experiments, our lab tries to figure out what the hell is going on. Theoretically, it's very interesting. Actually doing the lab work however, is the most frustrating and mundane business I have ever engaged in. I really hope it starts getting better soon; I have a full year of it still. We'll see.

Two days later, on the 26th, was the first Zombie Lair party I went to. The Zombie Lair was the home of some of my friends. I can only imagine that they have zombies as a primary interest in life. However, to Casey and Becca and the other denizens of the Lair, I am grateful, for giving me my first summer party of the year. That first week also marked a lovely time with my good friends Emily and Sara. At one point during which we decided some of us would go see Susan Tedeschi, the amazing blues-rock singer and guitar player, at South Shore Music Circus. So it happened that only a day or two after buying the tickets, on the 28th, me and Emily and Erica were off to the circus. The South Shore Music Circus lies in Cohasset, MA, a really quite charming place. We met our friend Jake there, who's house is practically right next to the venue, and he was a great host. I had no idea what I would find when we finally came to the venue, but it was better than I could have imagined anyway. It was a rotating circular stage, set in the middle of an enormous tent. Our seats were in the very front row, and I was sitting right next to the guitar rack the band was using. It was incredible. We walked in to the best opening act I have ever seen. Shemekia Copeland was her name, and she sang to us, unamplified on many occasions, and her voice still filled the venue, and her sound reverberated through the air and filled us with wonder and awe. I have yet to find a recording of her to match that sound, though her studio work is fantastic also. And Susan Tedeschi was also brilliant. she sang my favorite song of hers, Just Won't Burn, as her finale. Spectacular. It sounded a bit like this (sorry, couldn't find a better embeddable version:



This is the one picture I have of it, courtesy of Emily.


The 30th marked the day Cali was off on another of his traveling adventures, so we went to his farewell party. Him and Colin were excellent hosts at their home, the Sex Palace (um, what's with everyone naming their houses?).

On the 1st of July, Erica and Ashley threw their housewarming party at Carlito's Luxury Suites (again, with the names!), which was fantastic. I was running between there and the Zombie Lair, as my friend Jeremiah and I began our Wednesday night/Thursday morning traditions of lurking at the Lair in the evening and having Annie's (Clark Brunch) in the morning. That Wednesday was particularly insane. If I remember correctly, my friends Nick and Amy played for us at Erica's, the guitar and violin respectively. Nick broke his strings playing he played so hard, and Amy was breathtaking as usual. They really are fantastic, and its because of them I love Irish music so much now.

The very next day, Thursday, we began our preparations for the Fourth of July weekend. But that whole bag of shenanigans (a word that for me will forever be associated with you, Molly), will have to wait until my next post. It might happen tonight. Soon, anyway. And oh yeah, have you noticed that it's only been a week, so far, since I got back?