Finally, I Get Some Free Time

Originally written October 2010

I wanted to take a moment to update all the curious folks out there on exactly where I am, what I am currently up to, and where my trajectory is leading me next.

I am back in St. Paul, Minnesota—a beautiful place that feels absolutely majestic during this time of year. The leaves are in the middle of changing colors, the days remain crisp yet warm, and with our backyard garden yielding a steady supply of fresh fruits and vegetables, home cooking has never been better.

Admittedly, adapting to domestic life in the United States has been a bit of a challenge, but then again, I haven't ventured out much into the broader culture. For the most part, I have restricted my routine strictly to the campus grounds and a few immediate spots nearby. I've completely bypassed the standard consumer loop: no malls, no commercial cinemas, no theaters, and no standard retail shopping. I am intentionally staying far away from traditional brick-and-mortar stores for the time being—partly because I have completely rediscovered my deep-seated eBay addiction, and partly because I recently acquired a 2002 VW Jetta GLI. Suffice it to say, I am currently sinking plenty of raw capital into it.

I also moved out of the dorms and now live entirely off-campus alongside four incredibly cool housemates. We occupy the upper flat of an old duplex located just two brief blocks away from school. It is an older structure that has undeniably seen better decades, but because of its age, it provides an endless supply of things to fix and constant opportunities for me to learn new trades. Since moving in, I have successfully replaced a thermostat, deep-cleaned our oven, repaired structural frames, painted my own bedroom, and tackled a mountain of miscellaneous repairs.

The house is an eclectic mix: there's Pete, a hunter who frequently brings home fresh wild geese, duck, and other meats, and is a really sweet guy; Dennis, an avid biker who is exceptionally friendly and honest; Will, who is quirky, innovative, fun, and a bit direct in his speech; and Dara, who is slightly eccentric, incredibly energetic, and constantly populates our kitchen with groceries and phenomenal baked goods. Our apartment spans two full levels, featuring high ceilings, open communal layout areas, and a massive yard. Over the summer, everyone collaborated to grow vegetables in our garden, and the harvests have been incredibly tasty—and completely free.

Reconnecting with my campus friends and professors has been great; they are all just as kind and intellectually sharp as they used to be. The hardest part of the equation is knowing that, in a short matter of time, we will all inevitably graduate and head off in separate directions. It is even tougher right now because everyone is incredibly consumed with hunting for career paths, managing intense workloads, cooking, socializing, dancing, and sleeping far too little. That constant friction makes it difficult for us to cleanly overlap. We all make an effort to collaborate, but the massive homework requirements limit our availability; then again, that has always been the standard reality at Macalester.

I catch myself deeply missing the people I met during my time in China—especially my core crew: Luciano, Nika, Giorgito, and Sophie. We shared some absolutely extraordinary adventures across China, and honestly, who knows when I will find myself having that much unadulterated fun again.

On a more personal note, I have been painfully single lately and have faced my fair share of romantic rejections. To the average reader, this might not sound like a major dilemma, but as I was venting to a close friend of mine the other afternoon: after a long stretch of constantly planting seeds and watching absolutely none of them take root, you eventually get tired of farming. After crossing paths with so many cool, friendly, and genuinely attractive people, I don't know when I will finally find someone with whom I can build a constructive, passionate relationship. But then again, I never truly know what I want from one week to the next, so feel free to entirely disregard that last paragraph.

Regarding my new car: because it was incredibly cheap, it arrived with some collision damage from a past accident. The structural issues are minor, so the remaining work is basically aesthetic. It is incredibly fast, bright red, and a lot of fun, but given how much money I am constantly sinking into replacement parts, I find myself completely skint by the weekend—frequently unable to even afford gas to put in the tank, which renders the whole machine entirely useless on the curb. It is a fantastic project and I am picking up solid mechanical skills along the way. I only wish I had access to a proper indoor garage and a broader array of tools so I could take it apart further, but that will just have to wait.

I am actively applying for a couple of different tracks concerning my post-grad path. And yes, I am quietly terrified about the future, especially since I still don't know exactly what I want to do with my life. I have seriously contemplated pursuing a dozen completely disparate careers: everything from training as an EMS technician, becoming a small-scale farmer, working as a carpenter, a diesel mechanic, an industrial designer, or a vintage buyer/seller. The main bottleneck with executing these ideas is that I genuinely want to do all of them, if only for brief, seasonal chunks of time. Hopefully, by May when graduation arrives, I will have a clearer concept of where I'll be deploying my bags next.

Simultaneously, I am working on a book manuscript about a long-deceased relative of mine—a great-great-great-great-great-uncle. I am creating a historical character based very loosely on his ghost, mostly because our family records are incredibly sparse. I'm attempting to construct a coherent narrative around his life, though I am a bit skeptical about eventually sharing the pages with my own relatives. It turns out he wasn't particularly well-favored by certain branches of the family tree, and if I author a story that makes him out to be the absolute bee's knees, they might take serious issue with it. He was an incredibly enigmatic fellow, and my hope is that by committing his timeline to paper, I am not only translating my own history but actively explaining the narrative of my own family to myself.

Academically, I am currently carrying six classes at Macalester: *Islamic Civilizations* (which is fascinating), *Capital, Politics, and Nature* (which is incredibly dry), *Global Hatred* (which is deeply creepy and can occasionally get inside my head), *Culture and Revolution* (managed by an intimidating professor, but highly interesting material), *Modern Dance*, and *Pilates I*. While I am genuinely enjoying the academic layout, a severe lack of sleep and the mounting volume of papers have begun to completely blur the boundaries between the subjects. In almost all of my seminars, we seem to debate incredibly parallel concepts; for instance, we have discussed the mechanics of the Iranian Revolution in three separate courses *ad nauseam*. Attempting to differentiate the arguments from one class to the next has become an exercise in confusion, and I find myself mixing up the theoretical material. Overall, it’s a solid academic year, if intensely packed—but then again, it has never really been otherwise.

I am also cooking an absolute ton. I would say that at this point, my culinary style has become incredibly eclectic, heavily influenced by my time spent exploring Chinese, Vietnamese, Cambodian, Jewish, and Mexican kitchens. I have churned out some truly delicious dishes lately, occasionally genuinely surprising myself with the results. Of course, I have botched a few experiments along the line—accidentally making broths way too spicy, undercooking fresh salmon, leaving leftovers out on the counter far too long, or dropping a catastrophic amount of salt into a pot. But if there is one solitary activity that brings me pure happiness and fulfillment, it is preparing massive, complex meals for myself and my roommates. I’ve discovered that cooking a huge feast is the single best leverage to get busy college students to drop their books and actually gather around the table together.

Beyond the kitchen, I am still fixing far too many broken mechanical objects around the house: tuning up two separate bicycles, tweaking the Jetta, repairing a laptop, wrenching on a friend's car, and diving into a few other random projects. But honestly, taking things apart, breaking components, getting thoroughly frustrated, and solving the puzzle is exactly what I love to do.

Finally, just last night, a friend and I took to the streets on a tandem bicycle carrying a massive thermal bucket loaded with homemade burritos. We randomly decided to launch an immediate, late-night burrito delivery and sales service catering strictly to neighborhood drunks, exhausted students, and hungry night owls to see how well we could fare on the fly. My roommate Dennis generously supported the hustle by lending us his two-person bicycle, which functioned as an incredible visual sales pitch. We started prep work around 6:00 PM, wrapped up cooking by 11:00 PM, and spent the midnight hours riding around to local student houses, house parties, and casual gatherings. While it wasn't a massive financial windfall, we successfully sold twenty-four burritos, which were widely reported by the midnight crowd to be "absolutely delicious." I don't know if we will ever run that specific route again, or if I will dive into a commercial food project anytime soon, but the entire experiment was an absolute blast.

That is my life up to this exact coordinate. I will try my best to keep you folks updated more regularly as the semester rolls on. In the meantime, write back and update me on your worlds, too.

Eitan.