Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Massage class, Hearst Gym Posted by Hello


So, finally, in what seemed to be Mission Impossible 3, I made friends. From left to right: big Oskar, cool Ki, me, sophisticated Emily, mysterious Patrick, baby Josef, windy Lee, wise Marcus, excentrik Lubna and little Kimberly (the last one is the cranial therapy specialist, but I don't believe in this stuff....).
These are the Drummondites, the 11 super-powerful young journalists, picked by Prof. William Drummond Jr. HIMself for a semester of extreme journalism.
I can't believe tomorrow is the final exam. After all those sleepless nights and cafein&brownies mornings, those thousands and thousands of words that constitued out "stories", our efforts to wake up for the 6:30 class and to follow the extraordinary stories told by captain Drummond, we're going to be free!
We built a family, over here. An envied family. We're so different, so different. The first days were hell, at least for me. Then, closer and closer, mixing our information, our fears, our experiences. And one day, we came in the morning and we were friends.
Now, I'm scared of the "after-J200". I will feel a big gap in my life. I will fill this big gap in my life. :-)


Americans make fun of French. French make fun of Americans. Americans make fun of Arabs. Arabs make fun of Americans and French. Till no end.
Last Saturday, Dustin and his friends had a "French party". They brought some Pinot and baguettes, wore berets and ate cheese having apparently a lot of fun. On the other side of the world, Helene, celebrating Halloween with her friends at this excellent business school in Paris, dressed as a cow-girl, American.
At UC Berkeley, the Arab Student Association organized a symposium dedicated to "fighting stereotypes". Young students draw what reprensents, in the general conception, an Arab. A hairy big armed rude man, with a covered woman in his shadow. It made me sad, while everybody was laughing. Auto-critique is good, but I would exchange it for a beret.