Oh, the Irony!

Last night was one of the busiest nights I've had for a while. Earlier in the day, I received an invitation from my Fish Camp friend Angela, whom I also know from church, to go dancing at one of the local country dance halls for her birthday that night. Figuring it would be a good excuse to finally go out, I was glad to accept the invitation, but before that, I had several meetings to attend.

I started off the evening by going to daily mass like I've usually been doing on Thursdays, and after that, I had my first Aggie International Ambassadors meeting, although it was, unfortunately, almost on the other side of the campus from where St. Mary's is, and I would eventually have to return to the church for my next engagement.

The AIA meeting was all right, although I'm not as enthusiastic about it as I'd like to be- yet, anyway. The highlight was learning some of the characters of the Arabic script from an Iraqi student officer, but I still haven't fully figured out how I will be involved with that group.

After that meeting concluded, I hopped back on my bike and pedaled like mad through the dark and the cold and rain all the way back to St. Mary's, where the first session of my Theology of the Body study group was meeting. We got to know the other people in the group before watching a video presentation by Christopher West, the champion of Pope John Paul II's radical theology about human sexuality. Some of his points were brilliant and extremely thought provoking, like the idea that the body is the only way we can make visible what is invisible and that it would be impossible to know that someone else existed were it not for his own body for you to experience through your own senses. Also, I thought the idea that each person's existence and no less than human history itself literally hinges on who is having sex with whom was earth-shattering. In any case, the entire theology is deeply inspiring, and God bless JPII for bringing us this new "sexual revolution" at the our we need it most.

Once that was over, it was only a short bike ride (still in the dark and cold, though) over to Harry's where I waited around for a while for Angela, although fortunately, her high school friend Drew who is also in my Theology of the Body study group was there as well. She didn't show up until about half an hour later, but the place was pretty empty while we waited anyway. Once she did arrive, I met a few of her other friends from high school (all of whom were Catholic as well, which was nice), and by that time, a lot more people had started to fill up the dance floor, too.

Now, Harry's is a country/Western type dance hall, so most of what they played up until a certain point was country music, and I had a good time dancing with Angela, one of her friends, and-- ironically-- two friends from my own high school I ran into, one of whom graduated three years earlier than me, despite the fact that it was so crowded everyone couldn't help running into each other and practically no one can dance in time to the music anyway (Texas two-stepping just doesn't work in some meters, people!) Emily (the older girl from my school) and I kept giving each other a hard time about the irony of meeting a Catholic/Church of Christ fellow in a dance hall and bar (if you knew our high school, this would strike you as infinitely more amusing). But everyone that I knew had fun until...

The club music started. Normally, I don't mind modern dance music too much, although after last night, I really realised just how much of it is centered solely around the philosophy of self-centered idolatry and sexual promiscuity (and how painful the constant vibration of an over-worked bass can feel after a couple hours sending tremors through your entire body, let alone your eardrums). It was heartening that everyone whom I was with took to the elevated seating overlooking the dance floor when the grinding started, but I couldn't help but to be struck by the utter, yet tragic, irony of my night once the DJ's started hollering about all the "ladies" "getting laid" that night just before tossing out condoms into the crowd. I mean, here I was just hours before at a study dedicated to the reverence and renewal of our sacred sexuality and a profound turn-around in even the way we understand our own incarnate existence as both spiritual AND physical creatures, and right in front of me, I saw just what it is that we are up against in this culture war.

I've always been fascinated with watching other people's behavior, and tonight was no different, as I had nothing else to do in the meantime, yet this time was tinged with a pang of sadness, or realisation, that I can't remember having experienced before. I've always wondered what our guardian angels think of us, especially since I once heard that the angels have cause to be jealous of us since God created us not merely as pure spirits, but with a corporeal existence in which we can experience creation viscerally and even receive His son in a way infinitely more intimate than ever could in the Eucharist. God knows I've disappointed my own (if disappointment they feel) often enough, but I couldn't help but wonder what must it be like to be down in that crowd, watching-- perhaps even helplessly-- as the creatures you were made to protect heedlessly throw their sacred dignity away.

Anyway, I had fun, but I definitely had a brush with what my Shakespeare professor has been calling "the darker side of the dream" while we've been studying A Midsummer Night's Dream. Thankfully, God has revealed a glimmer of His true plan for our lives to me through the friends I have at St. Mary's, and I was especially grateful for the grace of the Eucharist while I felt a bit "in the lion's den." But rather than be overcome by despair, I find inspiration in the great examples God has given us in the saints, two of whom, St. John Bosco and St. Josemaria Escriva, said:

"Holy Purity, the queen of virtues, the angelic virtue, is a jewel so precious that those who possess it become like the angels of God in heaven, even though clothed in mortal flesh."

 -St. John Bosco

"There is need for a crusade of manliness and purity to counteract and nullify the savage work of those who think man is a beast. And that crusade is your work. Many live like angels in the middle of the world. You, … why not you?" -St. Josemaria Escriva

John Paul II, St. Maria Goretti, and Sts. Mary and Joseph, please pray for us.

The First of Autumn

With the start of my favorite season and the wonderful, cool, wet weather it brings, I have been inspired to write again, despite my busy schedule lately.

I have spent most of the month of September establishing my daily routine and becoming comfortable with my various classes, although I still have a couple of time-management issues to work out. Still, the semester is coming along almost on its own, and it's hard to believe it's almost the fifth week of the school year already. At this point in the semester, I have just reached the first crest where I am taking my first college exams after having finished the first units in many of my classes. On Monday, I took my first Linguistics test and tonight I took my first Anthropology test, both of which were fortunately easier than I anticipated. I've got a French project and a History test due next week as well, but if I keep knocking things out little by little, it shouldn't be too difficult.

Besides continuing my studies, I have been trying to cultivate my other interests and social network as well; I have met three inspiring religious sisters from Italy at St. Mary's who offer spiritual direction and are the closest thing to a mother I've got here, so I've finally got some real motivation to get going on learning Italian. I found some Rosetta Stone software and Pimsleur audio CDs in our library's wonderfully extensive collection and have been trying to practice regularly. As similar as it is to Spanish and French, it is still frustrating at times to realize just how separate it is as its own language, but I am thankful, in any case, for all the background knowledge I already have of the Romance languages. Hopefully, I'll be able to communicate well enough when I study abroad, and even though I plan to live in France, I'd really love to visit Italy again.

I haven't practiced piano as much as I'd have liked to, especially since I'm trying to be involved in St. Mary's music ministry, but I'm pretty sure if I'd seriously apply myself to maintaining my time-management board, I could make some time regularly to do so. I've also joined the French club here as well as Aggie International Ambassadors, so I've got quite the array of sides to go with my full, 17-hour plate.

And on another note, as a temporary, minimal time commitment going on right now, I am involved in SMAPL, or, St. Mary's Aggies Promoting Life, and our first event was attending the 40 Days for Life campaign's kickoff outside the local Planned Parenthood. 40 Days for Life is one of the most inspiring movements I've ever seen, as it is a 24-hour vigil for forty days on the sidewalk right in front of Planned Parenthood, and it's not just going on here; it has spread from Aggieland around the country and even to Denmark. I've participated in activism before by attending the annual Texas Rally for Life in Austin, but it was a different experience this time since the Planned Parenthood supporters were having their own gathering on the other side of their oppressive, black-screened fence. The director of the campaign, a former Aggie who started it right here in College Station, delivered a very moving speech in which he addressed the issue of apathy towards such a vital endeavor with a comparison to the European civilians who did nothing to aide their fellow human beings during the Holocaust. Afterward, we visited the Coalition for Life's pregnancy counseling home located strategically- and blessedly- just across the street from the abortion clinic. These photos give you a sense of the contrast between the hopeless Planned Parenthood compound and the homey, welcoming Coalition for Life Home.






It's been getting cooler and raining quite often now, which makes me happy, except for when I get wet riding from class to class. Still, it's my favorite type of weather- very conducive to writing, for me anyway- and as November draws closer at an alarming rate, I'm really going to try to get as much planning done before NaNo starts.

For now, I'm enjoying one of the best times of the year, and I hope you enjoy the video montage I found to commemorate this First of Autumn.

Babette's Feast

Tonight, I had some free time, so I stopped by the library and checked out the film Babette's Feast. Before I left Austin, I was attending a bi-monthly "movie and a meal" at the home of my youth group leader with my friends from church. Unfortunately, I had to miss the last one because I was gone to Fish Camp, and I had been looking forward most of all to watching this film because it is foreign and I had heard great things about it.

After the unfortunate incident of the horror film last night (you can read my thoughts on that in the previous post), this was truly a delight to behold. Not only is the film about a literal feast, but it is a feast in itself, visually, artistically, and intellectually.

Babette's Feast is the story of how a French exile-turned-housekeeper teaches her two Puritanical, Danish hostesses and their community la joie de vivre and the true spirit of sacrificial love. After staying fourteen years with the two sisters who have provided her shelter from the civil war in France, Babette wins the lottery in Paris. But instead of returning to her home, where no one living awaits her, Babette unexpectedly- and secretly- uses her newfound wealth to prepare un vrai diner français in honor of the 100th birthday of the sisters' father, the priest and head of the village. Unbeknownst to her, the villagers are horrified at the thought of partaking in so sumptuous a meal; after all, it goes contrary to everything about their ascetic lifestyle the minister taught them. But despite their initial agreement not to take the slightest pleasure whatsoever in the meal, the townspeople cannot help but to be moved by the beauty and love that infuses the feast and end up putting aside their past quarrels in a spirit of true communion. When the sisters later discover that Babette was the chef of the fabled Café Anglais in Paris and that she spent her entire 10,000 francs on the dinner, they finally learn what it means to truly offer one's life to the service and love of God.

Two quotes from the film imprinted themselves in my heart, the first being: "An artist is never poor." Babette says this to the sisters just after she reveals that she spent her entire fortune in preparing the feast. I like it because of the irony it carries, but with that irony, such truth as well. This simple statement sums up the wealth in being a creator- it is not so much the end result, but the pursuit that brings the deepest joy; it's not in realizing the destination, but in savoring the journey there. Therein lies the true value of the creative act, and especially in this story, Babette is no "starving artist," but one who overflows with passion that fills not only her life, but spills into others'.

The second quote: "Throughout the world sounds one long cry from the heart of the artist: Give me the chance to do my very best." I love the thought of living life passionately, always striving to do my very best in all that I do. It is true that it is the road less travelled, and it takes an extraordinary amount of strength to achieve such a goal, but I believe, ultimately, it is the life most fulfilling.

I enjoyed this film for many reasons: I like being able to watch foreign films in their original languages to get the true sense of the setting and to better feel the emotions being portrayed, I liked that it was set in Denmark so that I was able to learn a bit more about a place I know little about, I thought it was very interesting from an anthropological standpoint to see how the Northern Europeans- traditionally austere Protestants- got along with a the Latin, Southern European Papists and how their lifestyles and philosophies differed, but most of all I enjoyed this film for the thought it provoked, the beauty with which it was made, and the inspiration for a life better lived that it sparked within me.

After the movie ended, I could only sit in thoughtful silence as the credits rolled, deeply moved by the story I'd just witnessed. My initial impulse was to react, but after beholding such a masterpiece, it is necessary to digest a little before responding. Writing out my thoughts here has helped me do just that, and I hope that it has whetted your appetite as well.

If you ever have the opportunity to partake of this cinematographic feast, I sincerely recommend that you to watch it.

A Happy Birthday to Me

I celebrated one of my most unique birthdays today. I knew it was approaching, but with all the activity surrounding the start of college, it still kind of sneaked up on me. It's hard to believe that I'm 19 years old now and that I've only one more year of being a teenager. This was the first time I was away from home and people I know on my birthday, but it still ended up being a pretty good day.

Since it's a Saturday, the campus, which is normally a swarming hive of activity during the week, was empty and silent today. So, I spent most of the morning in my room finishing reading the first act of Henry IV for my literature class and watching the last available episode of my new favorite TV show Castle on Hulu. I don't usually watch TV, especially ABC, but I really like this series because of the fascinating characterization and entertaining plot twists (and it hasn't been too dirty so far).

I somewhat wish I had planned my day earlier instead of trying to find something to do at the last minute, but going to lunch with my high school friends Meghan and Sam where one of my Fish Camp friends works was nice.

When we got back to campus, I spent about an hour in my room until my friend Evan told me that his family was tailgating before the football game tonight, and I was welcome to join them. Not having other plans and hoping not to be too lonely on my birthday, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to go out and spend the rest of the afternoon. There ended up being about 30-40 people under a combined six tents with food and games, most everyone Evan's neighbors and/or family friends from home.

And now, I have a confession to make: Tonight was my first tailgate party and football game in my life. I feel like a bad native Texan, but not having a football team in high school and belonging to a family that is not much interested in sports, I never had any reason to go to one. But there's a first time for everything, and it was probably good to experience the real deal in grand style for my first time. In Texas, football is akin to the state religion, and walking into Kyle Field really did feel like stepping into a temple dedicated to the pantheon of football players. The football game against New Mexico was exciting, but really more because of the Spirit of Aggieland. I honestly don't know what is so entertaining about four hours of watching heavy guys knock each other down and reset their positions every twenty to thirty seconds, but it is fun when one of them gets a break for it. Being a people person, I was more distracted by all the action going on around me and on the edges of the field, and I was fortunate to run into some friends up in our freshman, nosebleed section even though I couldn't meet up with my discussion group from Fish Camp. Fortunately, too, Texas A&M won 41-6, or, as we like to say here: Beat the Hell Outta UNM.

On top of this good news, I received so many kind birthday wishes from people today, and I'm thankful for so many friends who care enough to leave me a note. I especially appreciated the video from my good friend Ben.

All in all a pretty good day, except for one minor detail: When I returned to my dorm, I found my roommate hosting two friends, and as I have been writing this, they have been watching a Saw movie. I'll try not to mount the soapbox for too long, but let me just say: I despise horror movies.

I find nothing whatsoever edifying in them, and it is appalling what evils the human imagination can conceive. As a creative, artistic person, I can't support censorship, but I do very much believe in temperance and self-control. Also as an artist, I consider it my duty and my joy to use my creative talents to imitate and glorify the goodness of our own Creator, who only made what was good. This Saw movie poses under the title of "psychological thriller," but there is no point in revelling in the nightmares of the mind, especially when the protagonist provides little to no redeeming, light-bearing qualities as a foil. It seems to me barbaric to indulge in sadistic imagery simply for the shock value or for "entertainment's" sake; the Romans did the same thing 2,000 years ago when they filled the Colosseum to witness its bloody spectacles. Shouldn't we have moved on by now?

Anyway... I'm glad to have discovered a bit more of myself in this new year of my life, and I pray that the Holy Spirit will continue to guide me all the rest of the days of my life. I'm thankful for the life I have been given, and the lives He has brought into my own, and I want to take this new beginning as an opportunity to rededicate myself to His purpose.

Start of September, Second Day of Classes, and Silver Taps

My second day of classes began at 8:00 with a U.S. History class I signed up for just the day before. It appears that if I take over 15 hours of credits, I don't have to pay any extra, and since I'm going to have to work later to help pay for tuition, I figured I'd save time and money by getting another core class out of the way. This bumps me up to 17 hours now, though, so I'm a little anxious about how much work that will be, but we'll find out.

My history teacher ended up reminding me of my first piano teacher; he's got an attitude, but he was sarcastically funny, and the whole lecture hall was laughing at his quips. He claims he's not a sympathetic or understanding person, so it looks like I'll have to stay on top of things in that class.

After history, I had about a two hour break until my next class, so I filled it by watching the first of my Anthropology lectures online. It was pretty interesting stuff, and I was glad to see that the professor seems just as witty and amusing on camera as he did in person on Monday night.

When it was time to go, I packed up my things and went over to a nearby building for my Shakespeare Literature class. I hadn't expected it to be in a huge lecture hall because it's not a freshman class, but it was neat that I have both my junior friend Sam and my fellow INTS major Evan in that class, too. The professor himself spoke kind of slowly (he says he is hard of hearing), but he is clearly passionate about what he teaches, and he seems like a nice guy, although he did pull a very clever joke on us in an illustration about how we should be skeptical about Shakespeare's characters.

I was going to meet Evan down on the southside for lunch after he retrieved something from his apartment, but on the way over, I happened across Fr. David and the sisters from St. Mary's, accompanied by a couple older students I met this last weekend. They had just finished celebrating mass in the nearby All Faith's Chapel and were going to lunch at Sbisa together, so of course I got off my bike and joined them. It was a pleasant little surprise, and I love one of the sisters, Sister Raffaella, whom I have already gotten to know a bit and who has taken me under her wing. It also gave me the opportunity to introduce my friend Meghan to her since she had not yet met them. Apparently they celebrate mass every Tuesday at noon there and eat lunch afterwards, so I will have to look out for them in the future.

Getting back to my original schedule, I made it all the way down to Commons (which is quite far from the north side of campus where I live) and sat with Evan and a couple of his friends for a bit before they had to leave for classes. I, on the other hand, had several hours of time to spare, so I wandered into the basement in search of the fabled piano. It turns out it was occupied by choral auditions at the time, so I went upstairs and read my linguistics article in the meantime until I had to leave for my Antarctica seminar.

One of the things I love about A&M is how you can just run into people you know anywhere on campus, which really makes the place seem like a small town, even though there are almost 50,000 students here. I mention this because outside of the Commons, I met my friend and fellow INTS major Katie from Fish Camp. After talking to her for a few minutes, I made my way to the Oceanography and Meteorology building where I was introduced to my small seminar taught by two scientists who have visited Antarctica multiple times. I am very excited to learn about this fascinating continent, and the time-lapse video they showed us of summer and winter there were stunningly beautiful.

That night, I met my friend Lara and our fellow classmate Abbie to help them with their French homework since they don't have the book yet. It was really nice to be able to help someone with a subject I love and feel confident about, and it's really nice to know two other people who also know Spanish and love drawing connections between the two languages.

When that was done, we went together to the first Silver Taps of the year. Silver Taps is an event held on the first Tuesday of each month to honor Aggies who have died while they were currently enrolled at the school. It was a pretty surreal experience, but it gives you that much more of an idea of the strength of this school's community.

During the ceremony, the entire campus's lights are extinguished, and everyone walks in silence to the Academic Plaza, where one waits in the darkness, just listening to the bell tower playing mournful, traditional hymns. Then, one hears the slow, measured step of the Corps of Cadets approaching. In a moment, they appear as ethereal phantoms marching rigidly towards the center of the plaza, the pale moonlight reflecting off their white uniforms and glinting off the guns.

Then, one waits in silence for what seems like an eternity until the silence is shattered by the sharp report of a 21-gun salute, after which "Taps" is played on only whole notes three times: once to the north, once to the south, and once to the west, but not to the east because it is said that the sun will never rise on those Aggies' faces again.

It was a very sobering experience, but I'm glad I had the opportunity already to take part in yet another of this school's many, rich traditions, and although I'm feeling a little more tired lately, I think it's just the adjustment from summer idleness to a rigorous workload and full schedule, and I think I'm going to do well here.