Home Sweet Princeton

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2010-06-12T11:12:00.007-04:00

Princeton does not train you to be any one thing. At Princeton you learn to learn, and to be really good at whatever you decide to do. If I had one word to summarize my Princeton education, it would be demystification.

I remember a night from the fall of 2006. I stayed awake in the Forbes basement, struggling over Math homework, fearing that Princeton may have made a mistake by giving me admission. On those nights, my heart would sink with shame because I knew that there were endless resources at my fingertips but all I wanted to do at 3 am was to give up and sleep. Multivariable Calculus seemed like a code I had to break, some metaphysical puzzle that I had no chance of deciphering--not when my competition included Math Olympiad winners from South Korea and Romania.

And then, four years later, on June 1st 2010, I graduated from Princeton. I won a prize for my thesis and a travel drawing scholarship. I was all set to start a Master of Architecture program at Harvard in the fall. For four years I had lived in this castle with free wireless, exquisite libraries, some of the greatest minds from around the world, free beer (though, of course, I don't drink!), trimmed grass and paved pathways. Now it was time to leave.

As a tour guide I had told hundreds of prospective students about the tradition of the Fitzrandolph Gate: that, according to legend, students were not allowed to walk out of the center gate into the town. If they did so they would put their graduation at risk. Now, at graduation, our whole class of about 1200 was walking out the gate and also, symbolically, into the real world.

There was no moment of epiphany. There was no transcendental feeling of elation. Was this the beginning of a new era in my life? It didn't really feel like it. Rather, it was just one of a series of graduation events and by now I was really tired of it all. With the hundreds of cheerful parents pointing cameras at us on that hot, hot day, I smiled in the biggest camera for my mother in Karachi [they were showing this live on the Princeton website], and then tried to get out of there as soon as possible. My spectacular exit from Fitzrandolph had already taken place many months ago.

That is what I mean by demystification: to be able to take the world on your own terms. To think critically when Jeff Bezos, our Bacalaureate speaker, tells us that our life really begins tomorrow. At Princeton, I learned a little bit about everything and a lot about one thing: Architecture. Princeton taught me to ask "why" and gave me the confidence to say "I don't know." I learned to clearly articulate my stance on an issue, while being aware and respectful of other points-of-view.

I was supposed to leave Princeton the morning after graduation, at 5 am. I had planned to get a little sleep that night. But there was so much to pack, store, and trash that I had to work through the night. Angela and Hina helped a lot. We made a trip to the Wa to get soda and saw so many familiar faces.

I had already given some of my drawings and paintings to friends. I stored some in Forbes College. And there was yet other artwork that I didn't particularly want, but that was too precious to give away; all that had to go in the trash. Then there were the books. I made a trip to the yard sale tents and dropped off a box full of some really good books. I even gave away my first copies of canonical works like Le Corbusier's Vers une Architecture.

And yet... -- and now I recall how Jeff said we should be confident that we are perfectly right while knowing that we are also perfectly wrong -- and yet, here I contradict what I said earlier about demystification. Even though I tried to be detached, there were memories situated in this place I was leaving. I had lived in this campus for four years of my life. There was mystery, epic drama, here I had evolved as a person. Earlier that evening, I had to go up to the architecture building to back up all my files. I wanted to find one of Princeton's orange carts on the way. It gave me an excuse to wander through the campus, and it reminded me of Kinga's solitary walk through the Princeton campus the night before she said goodbye to it. There was a strange feeling of elation as well as a strong sense of loss and melancholy. As the sun set I went up and down the steps of Whitman, through the various arches, and along some of the manicured walkways -- and I felt like Dylan Thomas's Poem in October.

[PS: I will be starting a Master of Architecture program at Harvard this fall. My new blog is called Every Cloud Has A Silver Lightning.]

This Summer: Jerusalem and Tel Aviv

2010-05-20T23:18:00.001-04:00

Today I got an email informing me that my application for the Shellman Prize at Princeton's School of Architecture was successful. That means I get funding to work on another drawing project this summer! I was not expecting this because I won the same prize last year. Here's my project proposal:

Proposal for the Shellman Travel Fund

I plan to travel to Jerusalem and Tel Aviv to experience and record the monuments and urban space in Israel, a country founded in 1948 – one year after the founding of my home country, Pakistan.

Three motivations undergird this drawing project:

1. Both Pakistan and Israel were founded in order to carve out geographic space for a religious group to practice its religion and culture without persecution. Pakistan’s history has been wrought with turbulence. By traveling to Israel I want to learn how a new country gives expression to its national identity in the built environment, while providing avenues for that identity to evolve.

2. Art, says Jeffrey Kipnis, has the ability to give a choate expression to emergent political stirrings that cannot find any other confirmation in reality. I believe that the architect’s role is to experience and internalize these stirrings, and then to create forms and networks that mediate future political ideas. I grew up as a Muslim and only learned about Israel as an abstract idea. At Princeton, I formed close friendships with many Israeli students who helped to give dimension and reality to that conception. I want to visit Israel simply to listen to and internalize the story of a people through drawing.

3. In the words of Anne Cheng, when we articulate the political and urban challenge of the Middle East in the language of “grievance”—for example, by talking about rights—we form ideological divisions and build physical boundaries. A better way to address the challenge is by expressing it in the language of “grief.” The latter has the ability to evoke empathy and affect the hearts and minds of people on both sides. By documenting my own experience in blog entries, sketches, and larger drawings, I aim to convey the lived experience of contemporary Israeli society.

PS: My Israel visa application has been declined. I will not be able to travel to Israel this summer but I will reapply for an Israeli visa next year. I am working on a new concept for the Shellman Prize and I plan to carry out that project later this year. Check out wqs-gsd for updates.

Architecture and War

2010-05-07T02:45:00.003-04:00

I am an Architect. We spend our lives designing (and if we’re good, building) new kinds of spaces where people come together and feel something they have never felt before. We create places which provoke thought and inspire conversation. We believe deep in our hearts that in our work we give expression to emerging political, social, and cultural ideas. We give these ideas a tangible expression when they can find no other confirmation in reality. And by doing this we mediate future conversations. It is a long and arduous process but we work relentlessly, day and night, without much financial reward, but with an uncanny sense of self-fulfillment.

So obviously it is difficult for an architect to see destruction. The recent images from Haiti are an example. The entire built environment collapsed. Images of the decimated parliament building symbolized a crushed and broken country. But I slept at night knowing that Haiti was a natural disaster. We can learn from Haiti to prevent that kind of massive damage in the future.

The destruction of war, however, leaves me sleepless and frustrated. It terrifies me to know that someone from my hometown would want to bomb Times Square, one of the most beautiful places on this planet. Is it strange that it makes me scared of myself? That if I were a New Yorker and saw me, an innocent-looking boy from Karachi, Pakistan, I would be suspicious? I walk around trying to fathom why someone who just recently became an American citizen would suddenly turn against his new country. I protest and my emails meet a deafening silence from my own community. There are the formal condemnations with a reservation: “Can’t you see why someone would want to do that?”

No, I can’t. So I look for an explanation.

Former mayor Rudi Giuliani says on Larry King Live that “they” hate our values of freedom and liberty and want to destroy them. But people at Princeton point out a link I had almost forgotten—the two wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I wonder if watching CNN makes you forget about the wars. And I realize that there is a severe discord in the information that people on different sides of the war are receiving. People in America hear about terrorists who hate America. People abroad hear about an unfair war in Iraq. And somehow people in Pakistan connect the civil war there with America, even though all of the suicide bombings are carried out by the Taliban or other extremist Islamic groups.

In my time here, there is one American thing I have come to value more than anything else: the respect for plurality. This is made possible by the right to freely express oneself. At Princeton, we disagree often, but we hear and respect other opinions and sometimes we learn the most from the people we disagree with. We listen. We vehemently debate issues with “the other side” and then later that night we add members of the other side to our list of Facebook friends.

That is what is lacking in the real world: an opportunity to communicate. People are talking at each other and there is no room for empathy. There is no room in the heart of the terrorist for the empty rooms that will be left behind when American soldiers are killed in roadside bombs almost every day. And there is no room in the heart of outrageous Americans for the agony faced by countless families who lose loved ones in the wars almost every day. I am scared because each new attack and each new invasion will create more terrorists and more wars.

It is time we start creating forums where both sides can communicate with one another. Those of us who make things must work much harder. I truly believe that the sheer beauty of a thing will prevent someone bent on its destruction to pause and reflect. Especially if the person can feel some sort of personal connection to the thing. Architecture (and all created things) can be exclusive or inclusive. We need to make more inclusive things that acknowledge various viewpoints. We need to listen. We need to explain where we’re coming from. We need to have more conversations.

This Thesis Has Typos But...

2010-04-14T01:13:00.000-04:00

It's done! Finally, after a year of research and contemplation, months of obsession, weeks of painful writing, and several nights without sleep, the book arrived from Allegra (freshly baked) at 2:30PM on Monday, April 12th 2010. Only at Princeton was such an adventure possible. It was a process of learning just how much there is to know. I am uploading some images. I used Trade Gothic for the cover and the headings inside, and Hoefler for the text. All images were desaturated to give prominence to the writing and a serious tone to the work.

Unbound Copy:

2010-03-20T08:23:00.002-04:00

Richard Neutra Built in Pakistan!

2010-03-17T03:53:00.001-04:00

My thesis has been an incredible journey. Though I am far from the required page count or the cohesion that my thesis adviser expects, I am making some new discoveries, some of them completely unrelated to my topic. One such tangent led me from Jeff Kipnis to Sylvia Lavin, and in her book I found out this: Richard Neutra, one of Modernism's greatest architects, built at least two buildings in Pakistan! They are the West Pakistan University of Engineering and Technology in Lahore (with support from UNESCO) and the U.S Embassy in Karachi (1963.)

Transcript of a Jeffrey Kipnis Seminar

2010-03-12T23:59:00.006-05:00

Friday morning, 9AM. Jeffrey Kipnis is on time. This is a first. Stan walks in. Can we talk, he says, trying to sound like the Dean. You can start the lecture without me, says Kipnis, as he and Stan walk outside Betts Auditorium. I think it’s because Kipnis did not even show up for the last two seminars. Kipnis knows the school can’t force him to do anything. The main reason he likes to teach here, he has told us, is the school’s unlimited supply of Oreo cookies under the coffee cart.

What is the difference between early romantic modernism and modernity?

Sylvia Lavin. Do you trust her, he asks a Chinese graduate student. No, she says. Okay, what do you propose? He likes picking on people and embarrassing them completely. Finally, she says architecture should have a social aspect. I knew you were going to say that all along, he says, why didn’t you just say it?

Sylvia Lavin makes architecture effective socially but by taking a surprising detour. This is because all the straightforward ways have proved ineffective. Building houses is not an architectural idea, it is a political idea. By treating architecture like a fine art, you can do both.

He goes around the table and tries to memorize names. Pulane means rain. Vaskas? What kind of name is that? I don’t know… it’s a Muslim name. I am mispronouncing it, he says. Yes, I say, but it’s alright.
He talks about Hamlet. In the famous soliloquy, all Shakespeare is trying to do is to advance the plot by having the other characters overhear what Hamlet has to say. There was no deeper psychological element. Do Rembrandt’s self-portraits give his work a deeper psychological meaning? All these ideas have been superimposed on these works based on later thinking by people like Freud.

Our belief in god and our belief in the existence of atoms are both based on a rumor. Einstein “proved” it by finding the solution to the problem of Brownian motion, random collision of particles. But we are still uncertain of what an atom really is. Our “absolute convictions” are historically determined/produced and are open to evolution.

Learning architectural history is bad because it makes you believe that all that is over and you call it a style. Modernism versus modernity. Modernism tried to offer a collective model of certainty, a profound resistance to what was seen as the encroaching plague of modernity. The difference between where we are now and then is that they knew they were right but feared they would be wrong, and we know that we are right and know that we will be wrong.

How can you be certain and absolutely confident that you are right when you are also certain that you will be wrong. Sylvia’s detour is more exciting. They can both be positives. A collaboration. They are not polar opposites. It’s fuzzy.

Enlightenment. Descartes. Two terms from Plato: hypermnesia and anamnesia. The former is less than knowing, it is the ability to repeat a fact. Is the earth the center of the universe? No, you don’t want to be the center of anything. Then you’re the bad guy, like Microsoft. You don’t look “up” at the moon, you look over at it. Imagining it as an object in distance in translation turns it into something more real, a living knowledge. That is anamnesia. It brings knowledge alive so you know it and you feel it.

What’s before the enlightenment? You don’t connect to it. They didn’t know it was the dark ages. They had days with sunshine, and they sang songs. We cast them into darkness. You believe those guys are stupid. You treat your dog like a dumb person. But dogs can speak the human language better than we can speak theirs.

Would you consider yourself a more advanced species than amoeba? Anything that is alive at one point in time is equally advanced in the process of evolution. In your body, for every cell with your DNA, there are 100 cells without it. All states of being before now are still operative.

Descartes. I think therefore I am. What does he mean? Another student goes through the Kipnis treatment. Did you smile your way into Princeton? He turns to me. What's a baker? Someone who bakes, I say. Great, that was easy. Don't you wish you got the other one right? Yes. You're ambitious that's good. We go through some Descartes. I am so glad I PDF-ed that Philosophy class last semester. Ok, Vaskas, you're a baker and you move into a new town. There are a lot of bakeries but no sandwich shop. What kind of shop will you open? What does he want to hear, I think. Then, with utmost confidence, I say: it looks like the bakers are doing well so I would open another bakery. It's the right answer.

[This was me taking a detour from writing my thesis. I will type the rest of it later.]

2010-03-11T19:43:00.001-05:00

Graduate schools have personalities and sometimes strong-minded deans and professors have certain biases about who they want to recruit. Here is my two-minute stream-of-consciousness super-subjective impression of the schools I applied to. Don't get me wrong. I love them all and would be honored to attend any of them:

Yale is the super-finished-work/peter-eisenmann/meaning-and-symbol-over-performance/affordable-house-making school.

MIT is the unapologetic/emphasis-on-materials/super-legit/dorky school.

The GSD is the oma-like-starchitect-factory/boring-core-requirements/beer-and-dogs/massive-gund-hall/work-on-your-peofessors'-projects-till-you-drop-dead/diversity school.

Columbia is the omg-we're-in-new-york/x-labs/parametric-sustainable-stuff/computer-renderings/insert-stuff-here/who-do-you-think-you-are/what-do-you-mean-studio-space-this-is-new-york school.

Princeton is... well Princeton is Princeton.

2010-03-10T01:44:00.005-05:00

I love Richter's recent work. I wanted to make political paintings about nation building and boundaries. The two paintings, 1947 and 1948, are representations of abstract painting. They draw a link between mid-twentieth century production of painting, cartography (the drawing of maps), and the founding of new countries.

1947 ~ 60"x80" ~ Oil on canvas

1948 ~ 60"x80" ~ Oil on canvas

2010-03-09T04:07:00.006-05:00

"I do not want you to wait one moment longer than necessary to offer congratulations on your having been admitted to the M.Arch. I program at the Yale School of Architecture, Class of 2013."

Robert A.M. Stern, in an email. Image from the Yale SoA website.

0 Missed Calls

2010-03-06T01:58:00.009-05:00

This morning the Dean of MIT's Architecture department started making phone calls. He was calling to give the good news to admitted students. As the day progressed, eager or unsuspecting boys and girls got the call that probably changed their life and made them a hundred times happier. Liwen, my friend from Kilo Architectures, was one of the first to get this call and that made me really happy. Soon more and more people started sharing ecstatic reactions to their own call on the discussion forums on Archinect.com.

Trying not to be overly concerned, I went about doing what I would have done otherwise: getting lunch, watching a film for my thesis, attending the Naacho show. Except I couldn't. I was paralyzed. I found myself clutching my phone and checking the list of missed calls again and again. At one point the phone rang and I jumped. It was probably the only time I was disappointed to see Andy was calling.

And then night fell and I became seriously sad. I didn't want to do anything and I didn't want to talk to anyone. I was irritable and wanted to be left alone. I looked at my portfolio and it looked like shit. I have to admire Angela's patience during all of this.

And then, just like Yung Ho Chang had ruined my day, he also saved it. I remembered what he had said at the faculty discussion at the MIT open house: "I applied to MIT as a young man... and I was rejected... and now I am the dean."

It made me realize how stupid I was to lose faith in my work. I had visited the schools, observed their studios and interacted with their students. And I had thought I had a real chance. It is definitely possible that my portfolio and application just weren't as good. But it would be unfortunate if MIT rejected me mainly because I don't have years of work experience.

I have been told several times that going to a professional school right after college is not a good idea. But applying at this point was not a frivolous decision. For a very long time I have wanted to get an M.Arch. immediately after Princeton. Before that, I tried to figure out if I could be an architect without going to graduate school.

Last summer, I interned in Paris with students from the GSD and the Yale SoA. I interacted well with this more experienced species at work and also at the various architectural excursions we planned. And this summer I am working at Studio Secchi-Vigano in Milan for two months and then at Arshad-Shahid-Abdulla (probably the premier Architecture firm in Pakistan) for the month of August. What I am afraid of in Architecture is being stuck in an office working on endless AutoCAD drawings or Max renderings. I know OMA is a great opportunity. But I also know they would take me more seriously if I had an M.Arch.

Also, this may not seem important, but I am a Pakistani, with a Pakistani passport. I don't have any problem with that, except every time I travel I need to get a visa and wait in lines. My friends will be at RISD and Princeton next year. And getting into graduate school is the only way I can be close-by. Mobility is important to me and schools have the capability of providing resources to enable mobility (travel grants, recommendations, letters for embassies, etc). So I want to go to one of the American schools I have applied to. If I get rejected, if the other schools commit the same folly as MIT, then I will take up the offer to work for OMA Rotterdam. But I may not reapply to the same schools in the future!

Update (March 17th 2010): I have now heard from all the schools I applied to. I have been admitted to the Master of Architecture program at Harvard, Yale, MIT, and Columbia.

Day 28: Architecture and Respect

2010-02-19T22:16:00.001-05:00

This entry was originally posted to my newest blog, 100 Days of Thesis. That blog is currently restricted, mostly because the content on it is quite bad. This writing, too, is full of errors. It is a stream-of-consciousness analysis/rant about one of the films I am analyzing for my thesis.

Entre les murs, La Haine, and Playtime: all three films deal with the challenge of modernity and the Paris banlieue. All three start with a utopian vision that aims to civilize people and to integrate outsiders into modern French society. Architecture and the built environment are key elements in this process of civilization and integration. All three films illustrate the naiveté of a rationalist idealism that believes architecture can be used to transform society. A seemingly perfect space, resulting from a top-down process of design, does not lead to perfection in society. Its inhabitants consider it condescending and rebel against it. In each movie a strained social structure degenerates into dystopia, bringing everything else (both society and architecture) down with it.

Entre les murs (“between walls;” English title: The Class), a 2008 film by Laurent Cantet, explores the challenges of a racially diverse French society through the lens of a French teacher in a tough Parisian neighborhood.

When Mr. Francois Marin asks the class what words they found difficult, the first word to come up is “condescension.” This is hardly a coincidence. The film proceeds to tackle a series of social issues.

When asked to make name tags, some immigrant students put flags of their parents’ country of origin next to their names. The theme of identity, of whether a child feels a sense of belonging to or estrangement from France, is recurrent. When Mr. Marin writes the name Bill in a sentence to explain a word, he triggers the following exchange:

Khoumba: What’s with the Bills?
Mr. Marin: What bills?
Khoumba: The name Bill. You always use weird names.
Mr. Marin:Weird? A recent U.S president was called Bill.
Khoumba: Why don’t you use Aïssata or Rachid or Ahmed or…?
Esmeralda: You always use whitey names.
Mr. Marin: What names?
Esmeralda: Honky names.
Mr. Marin: What’s a honky?
Esmeralda: Honkies, Frenchies, frogs.
Mr. Marin: You’re not French?
Esmeralda: No, I’m not French.
Mr. Marin: I didn’t know.
Esmeralda: I am, but not proud of it.
Mr. Marin: Fine, I’m not either.
Esmeralda: Wiped him out!
Khoumba: Why use these names?
Mr. Marin: Khoumba, if I start choosing names to suit all your origins, it’ll never end.
Esmeralda: Just change a little.

The theme of identity is complicated when immigrant status is mixed with class status. Even more students speak out against what they say is a bourgeois way of speaking:

Mr. Marin: Before mastering something, the imperfect subjunctive, you’re telling me it’s no use. Start by mastering it, then you can call its use into question.
- Sir, why are you criticizing us?
- They’re right, that’s the way people talked in the old days. Even my gran didn’t say that.
- Or your great granddad. It’s from the Middle Ages.
Mr. Marin: No, it isn’t.
- It is.
- It’s bourgeois.
- Tell me, when was the last time you heard someone talk like that?
Mr. Marin: Yesterday, with friends, we used the imperfect subjunctive—
- No, someone normal.

That is a key rhetorical question in the film: what constitutes "normal"? And it works both ways. While the teacher tries to educate his students, the teenagers end up teaching him a great deal as well. When Mr. Marin demands that Souleymane share his “concern” with the class, Souleymane says that there are rumors that Mr. Marin likes men. He prefaces this statement thus: “If I tell you, I am good for Guantanamo. I’ll be tased.”

The film is literally set within the walls of the classroom, the high walls of the courtyard below, and the walls of the staff rooms. Like the Panopticon, the school building is designed for surveillance. The architecture allows teachers to watch students at all times. The teachers, however, have the luxury of meeting in private. In closed rooms they discuss policies to better civilize their students. Like France’s social housing reforms and policies regarding the immigrant and working class in general, the school exercises a very top-down approach of control, reward and punishment.

A teacher who has had a bad day in class storms into the staff room and calls the students animals. "I’m sick of these clowns. Sick of them. I can’t take it anymore. They’re nothing, they know nothing, they look right through you when you teach them…. I’m not going to help them."

As the school year progresses, things degenerate. All attempts to discipline the teenagers fail.

Mr. Marin: Who wants to read? Great. Excellent work atmosphere today. Khoumba, go on.
Khoumba: No way.
Mr. Marin: You won’t read?
Khoumba: I don’t want to read.
Mr. Marin: The class revolves around your desires?
Khoumba: I don’t want to read.
Mr. Marin: I don’t care. What did Khoumba just do? Wei?
Wei: Sneer.
Mr. Marin: I meant her attitude. What did she show?
-Insolence.
Mr. Marin: That’s right, you’re an expert.
Khoumba: You’re an angrulo with me. What is this?
Mr. Marin: That’s not true. Try saying it in French. What am I?
Khoumba: “Angrulo.”
Mr. Marin: Say it in everyday French.
Khoumba: You’ve got it in for me. That’s normal French.
Mr. Marin: I just want you to read. I have the right to ask you to read, don’t I?
Khoumba: No.
Mr. Marin: Don’t you think so?
Khoumba: No. No one has read it and you’re picking on me.
Mr. Marin: No I am not. I want to work and I’ve chosen you as I have the right to.
Khoumba: Drop it.
Mr. Marin: Start reading.
Khoumba: I won’t read. You tell me to shut up, then to read. What is this?
Mr. Marin: What’s what?
Khoumba: Make up your mind. Think it through.
Mr. Marin: We’ll talk it over after class. It won’t be fun.
Khoumba: Sure.

Mr. Marin’s character is conflicted. At times he connects well with the students, probing their thoughts with a sincere interest. At other times, he attempts to discipline the class by speaking in terms of rights. By doing so, he sets up a trap for himself. Later in the film, he is reprimanded by everyone for calling two of the girls “skanks.”

Khoumba's is one of a few characters whom Cantet explores in depth. When reprimanded in a private meeting my Mr. Marin, Khoumba retorts: "I can’t stay a kid forever." Later she writes a poignant essay about the dual nature of respect:

Le Respect
Adolescents learn to respect their teachers because of threats or the fear of having problems. For starters, I respect you but respect is mutual. For instance, I don’t say you’re hysterical so why do you say I am. I’ve always respected you so I don’t understand why I have to write this. I know you have it in for me but I don’t know why. I shall sit at the back to avoid any other conflicts unless you come looking for them. I admit I can be insolent, but only when provoked. I won’t look at you again so you can’t say my look is insolent. In theory, in a French class you talk about French, not your grandma, your sister, or girls’ periods. And so, from now on I won’t speak to you again. Signed Khoumba.

The ennui and angst of the teenagers' lives within these walls is made explicit in the discussion about self-portrait essays

- We just come to school, go home, eat and sleep.
Mr. Marin: Fine. The bare facts of your life are dull. But what you feel is interesting.
- That’s my business.

Within the rigid structure of the school, student's voices and feelings are stifled. When Mr. Marin tries to probe deeper to change the status quo, he goes too far, exposing the ugly truth about French society as a whole: a facade of integration, and of liberté, égalité, fraternité, masks a fractured society divided along lines of race and class. In the process, he ends up hurting his students and himself.

Ideas of respect, discipline, humiliation, punishment, revenge, shame and submission are thrown up in the air and reassessed. What happens when a teacher fails to follow codes of society? Is he immune from censure? When the principal of the school enters the classroom, everyone is expected to stand.

Stand up, please. Good morning. That goes for those at the back too. Come on, stand up. Chérif, you heard me? Everyone has to stand. It’s a way of greeting an adult. It doesn’t mean submission or humiliation. Good. Sit back down.

Carl, who has been moved to this school after discipline problems in a school in the banlieue, seems to have resigned himself to the role of second-class citizen. "J’aime ma cite," he said mechanically when he reads his essay. Cite means housing project, or a neighborhood of big tower housing in the banlieue. Interestingly, he has also internalized this new kind of French identity, the identity of a French subject or colony.

Boubacar: What is your National team?
Carl: France.
Boubacar: Why do you say you’re Caribbean rather than French?
Carl: We’re French. It’s a French region.
Boubacar: Why don’t you ever say you’re French?
Carl: It’s the same.
Boubacar: I don’t think so.

I contend that because the architecture is so neutral, clothes take on an added significance for these students. They assert their identity through their "looks." Arthur goes up in front of the class and defends his look as part of his self-portrait essay:

Clothes are an expression of freedom. I’ll dress how I want and you dress how you want, okay. I dress like this to be different and not follow the others like sheep…. I also think that if there were 22 Goths here and one guy like you you’d keep quiet then.

At the staff meeting, Esmeralda, a student representative, sports a t-shirt with big lettering that says "Tunisie." It is a defiant statement that the former colony is here to stay and must be recognized as part of the system.

Later, in their decision to expel Souleymane, the teachers decide to choose the law over the spirit of the law so that "society can function." Society, however, completely degenerates at the end of the film. There is fearsome anger in Carl's retort, "You think you've tamed me?" There is a sense of helplessness in another student's quiet admission she hadn't learned anything all year: "I don't understand what we do." There is sarcastic cynicism in Esmeralda's tone when she says the only thing she has learned is the concept of triangular trade and slavery.

More than once, the external world enters the school in the form of parents. Wei's mother, it turns out, was illegally in France and is being deported. Wei finds himself unable to express himself because of language barriers, and the challenge of settling in is physically manifested in his allergies. Souleymane's mother gives a stern, solemn and dignified soliloquy of apology in a language that no one but Souleymane understands. He translates for her: "She apologizes on my behalf." It seems Khoumba was right when she said "it's all the same... it's all settled."

Only at the very end do the teachers embrace this state of dystopia. For the first time, they are seen to enter the countyard and play soccer with the students. Before this the courtyard had been viewed from above but now the camera too enters the courtyard.

The film ends on this somber tone. The sounds from the soccer game downstairs fill the empty classroom. It is an echo of the first scene in which maids were cleaning the desks. One can imagine the same cycle repeating itself.

Studio Secchi-Viganò

2010-02-12T14:36:00.011-05:00

Something from my trip to Italy last summer told me that the Milan office would get my envelope some time next year. Interestingly enough, they were the first to respond.

I had been offered a six-month internship at OMA Rotterdam starting in September and I had sent out more applications to find something to do this summer. I sent paper resumes and work samples in actual brown envelopes. I mailed eight of these out to London, Paris, Milan, New York and Boston.

I got an email from the Studio Associato Bernardo Secchi Paola Viganò today. They found my CV "extremely interesting" and may consider offering me a position as a summer intern.

When I visited the Grand Pari[s] exhibition at the Cité Chaillot several months ago, I found their work extremely interesting. I had been obsessing for months about housing and urbanism in the greater Paris region. My senior thesis at Princeton is about the social housing projects in the Paris banlieues. Out of the 10 projects, Secchi-Viganò's proposal stood out to me as the most compelling. While projects by architects like Jean Nouvel and Antoine Grumbach employed grand gestures supported by flashy images depicting "green" utopias, Secchi-Viganò's project was grounded in social research. A presentation table was devoted to interviews of people from the Paris banlieues. What the French architects failed to see and what the Secchi-Viganò project grasped so clearly was Paris's acute social problem.

The 2005 riots and films such as Kassovitz's La Haine illustrate Secchi-Viganò's assertion that the Paris region is currently "impermeable". Their proposal calls for a "porous, accessible, isotropic" city where the French idea of égalité is applied to improve the quality of existing spaces. By using the same spaces in a better way, they propose better mobility and connectivity.

Interview with OMA

2010-01-30T00:34:00.005-05:00

I gave a tour of Princeton University to a group of 50 students from Beijing, China. They asked me what I would do after Princeton, and I told them about my OMA interview: “it's the firm that designed the CCTV building.” The crowd gasped.

Apparently, getting an interview is a big deal. There are discussion forums about this on Archinect.com. They will grill you, these forums say. They'll tell you your work sucks. And they will be distracted, haphazard, rude. None of this was true.

I got an email the day before my interview was scheduled, informing me that I had not responded to their invitation, and asking me if I was still interested. I was shocked. The Skype interview was scheduled for the next day. Later I found the original email in my spam folder.

Yes, yes, yes, I'd love to interview with OMA. I would be speaking with Adrianne Fisher and Chris van Duijn, architects involved in projects such as the Prada stores, Casa da Musica, and the Maison à Bordeaux, my favorite OMA project.

I was nervous. I made a list of six excellent reasons why OMA should hire me. I was sleepless the night before and slept through the alarm in the morning. I barely had time to shower but I thought I should, just in case they wanted a video conference. They did.

And then I was talking to Adrianne and Chris like I knew them. We were very direct about everything. I told them I thought OMA's work was relevant, thought-provoking, and historic. But that I knew that as an intern I would probably be a cog in the machine. They were interested in the work I did at Kilo. I told them I wanted to go to grad school. They told me they liked my work but did not have a summer position available. They said they might offer me a longer-term position as an intern starting in August. Chris jokingly said that all the rumors and horror stories were true. But I think he was being honest.

"Anything else?" they asked (I had only covered 3 out of the 6 reasons). No. We smiled cordially and said goodbye. That was it.

I like two things about OMA. The first is their comprehensive approach to architecture, one that allows diverse intellectual disciplines to mediate architecture as much as architecture mediates them. "OMA is as much about ideas," says Koolhaas, "as it is about buildings." The second is the social aspect. There is an underlying sense of hope, audacity, and optimism in a lot of their projects. Koolhaas says that it is naïve to think that you can create subversive Architecture. Architecture is about teamwork and involves a lot of people, both in its making and use. The field as a whole is dependent on clients. But architects can exercise agency by subjectively interpreting demands.

Architecture as Art

2010-01-29T23:07:00.000-05:00

The Third & The Seventh from Alex Roman on Vimeo.

The Last Day of 2009

2010-01-21T22:54:00.002-05:00

It was the last day of 2009 that I would spend in Princeton. School had ended and most people had left. And then it snowed a lot.

Late at night that day, I finally finished all my grad school applications and stepped out of the Architecture building. The world had transformed. A thick blanket of snow covered everything. The steps of Frist were no longer visible at all.

The Process

2010-01-20T23:41:00.002-05:00

Somewhere along the way, all other things—grades, deadlines, food, sleep—cease to matter. You live inside the project. Dimensions, circulation, lighting, composition, materiality—these things run through your head as you walk down McCosh walk. Even several days after my final review, I woke up in Paris from a dream in which I was putting the finishing touches to my senior studio project. Here, I am putting up only the process images of the model. It is completely out of context, but here's what happened:

The day before final review, after having worked on this for many hours, I had to leave for lunch. Previously I had been working on the computer model as well, saving it constantly. Before heading out, I actually tried to find the "Save" option on this thing. I was afraid it wouldn't be the same when I got back.

A Country Without Architecture

2010-01-17T23:52:00.005-05:00

On Tuesday, January 12th 2010, the architecture of Port-au-Prince crumbled to the ground, crushing many thousands under its weight. In New Orleans, buildings had stood defiantly even as people had been swept away. Here, there is an apocalyptic landscape. My heart sank when I saw the image of the Presidential Palace because it symbolized the complete and utter helplessness of a people. Architecture is no longer synonymous with shelter, security, order, beauty.

The caretaker of an orphanage explains in a CNN report why all the children are being kept outdoors permanently: "[The house is] buckling and we can hear it, it makes noises like it's falling, rocks just fall off of the side of it, kind of constantly, so we're certainly never gonna go back in it."

I can't even begin to describe how I feel about the whole situation. Sometimes I am numb with horror, even callous. But I had a nightmare in which I was carrying a small baby out of the wreckage. It was my little sister.

Photos from the United Nations Development Program,
used under the Creative Commons License.

Bonne Année 2010!

2010-01-06T21:52:00.004-05:00

Just got back to Princeton, one last time.

Bibliothèque Nationale Francois Mitterrand

2010-01-01T10:47:00.004-05:00

Monet at the Musée de l'Orangerie

2009-12-31T11:46:00.006-05:00

Bubble Dreams

2009-12-20T12:45:00.000-05:00

Architecture Portfolio

2009-12-19T23:01:00.007-05:00

I just officially put my architecture portfolio on my website: http://www.waqasjawaid.com/. It's the first time I have put any architecture online for public viewing. This is the portfolio I have submitted as part of my applications to graduate schools in the United States. It is a small 5.5"x6.88" book.

I have had many people tell me that the portfolio is too lengthy for grad school applications. I have taken that comment very seriously and what you see here is a much condensed version of what I started off with. If they don't like it, they won't offer me admission, and that is fine. I suppose in the end it is as much a test of the graduate school as it is mine. But I'm hopeful... and excited.

Fall classes just ended yesterday, and I am traveling to Paris on Monday.

2009-12-06T12:46:00.000-05:00

ISOMETRIC

2009-11-25T23:33:00.001-05:00

I'm super-excited because we recently started Princeton's undergraduate Architecture magazine, called ISOMETRIC. More on this later (maybe).

Architects Use Books

2009-11-25T23:25:00.002-05:00

As you can see, here I am using the books on my desk to hold a small foamcore model in place till the glue dries.

Bronson Visits Princeton

2009-11-22T16:23:00.004-05:00

...and we hang out at the E-Quad sculpture after having lunch at Tomo Sushi.

MIT

2009-11-22T16:15:00.004-05:00

I visited the Architecture schools at Columbia, MIT and Harvard during fall break. I thought MIT was interesting, but the irony is: (a) I won't get in and that'll be sad; and (b) if I get in, I'll begin to realize fully how imperfect these schools are. In a weird way, it makes me wonder what I am doing at Princeton, on the other side of that formidable undergraduate admissions process.

Visiting the Site for Ron's Studio Project

2009-11-22T15:57:00.006-05:00

Phone Pictures of Princeton in Its Fall Glory

2009-11-22T15:42:00.012-05:00

Dawn, from my window

McCosh Hall, right across from the Architecture Building

Venturi's Wu Hall against stadium lights in the distance

View from Architecture Building

Nassau Hall

Gehry's Lewis Library

I.M.Pei's Spellman Hall

Architecture Studio Space

2009-10-24T18:09:00.005-04:00

Fall Rain

2009-10-24T17:58:00.006-04:00

I have started taking pictures using my new phone, and it reminds me of the summer, when I would always be on the lookout for interesting compositions or colors or lighting. It is also a way to record lasts in a place I have called home for three and a half years now. Unfortunately, the images are not very high-quality.

2009-10-24T17:57:00.002-04:00

Fall 2009

2009-10-22T23:50:00.002-04:00

At sunset, everything glows, and yet it makes your heart sink because its getting darker sooner and sooner everyday, and colder too. But the warm lights keep burning bright.

Prospect Garden

2009-10-21T23:23:00.004-04:00

Building a House

2009-10-21T16:15:00.000-04:00

Here is a section of the block, insulation, and brick layers of the house we're building for ARC311.

Posters on Campus

2009-10-21T16:09:00.005-04:00

An excellent postering campaign for voter registration on campus. They were very simple, eye-catching and effective. They also made for great campus decoration. And, below, something else, to which I have no comment other than that Princeton is a very diverse University.

ARC Studio Field Trip to the Institute for Advanced Study

2009-10-14T02:01:00.006-04:00

2009-10-14T01:59:00.000-04:00

Mt Holyoke College, Where I am an Honorary Student (Kind Of)

2009-10-14T01:53:00.005-04:00

My Room at Princeton

2009-10-14T01:45:00.005-04:00

I stood on my bed and took this picture. Not shown: on my left is my desk, dresser and bookshelf. Also on my left is the walk-in closet, bathroom with a bathtub, and the entrance. It's crazy. It scares me to think that this is the nicest room I'll be living in for a long, long time.

Outside, there is the vast golf course on one side and woods with a volleyball court on the right.

I should mention that I have this room because I am a Residential College Adviser in Forbes College.

2009-09-29T20:00:00.004-04:00

What will you miss most about Princeton, Claudia, one of Michaela's zees, asked me today at dinner. The Forbes Dining hall is an amazing place because you meet so many people; you go there to have a quick meal and exit an hour later having had dessert, ice cream and coffee.

I will miss most the people here. In a sense I have already left Princeton. It happened when the people I was close to graduated, and now I sometimes feel like a stranger here. But it's also new and exciting in a different way.

I will also miss the fact that Princeton makes you feel like you're the center of the world, with so many resources at your fingertips - so many opportunities. And soon I'll be thrust out into the real world.

That is why I am so eager to get into graduate school. The other reason is that I love architecture and I want to be an architect.

Architecture Graduate Schools

2009-09-29T15:31:00.003-04:00

I saw this poster in the Architecture building and I love it. I was not really planning to apply to MIT, expecting it to be a very science and math place but I really want to check out their Open House now! The next few weeks will be spent filling out forms, asking for recommendations, putting together my portfolio and writing essays about myself. It takes me back to high school days, and life seems like one test after another. But it's interesting right now and I'll try to keep it interesting.

The Beginning of the End

2009-09-27T15:57:00.003-04:00

Senior year has begun and is in full swing. I'm excited for my last studio at Princeton, a thrilling project that analyzes "stacking" in architecture, and how it's articulated in form and program. We've started off by looking at previous examples and I've got the Villa Savoye, one of my favorite buildings!

I stepped on a meticulously constructed study model from last semester, just for fun, and was surprised to see the result, both in terms of the form produced (it looks like OMA's Seattle Public Library) and the structural strength and pliability. In the background is some preliminary work on the Villa Savoye.

In other news, I am applying to Architecture graduate schools!

Silent Conversations in Barry Nemett's Drawing Class (in the Princeton University Chapel and in Other Places)

2009-08-26T05:35:00.004-04:00

Orange Key

2009-08-20T04:21:00.003-04:00

I found these Princeton tour guide comment cards lying around at home. There were a bunch of these but only two seem to have survived. Notice that both people have made the same error in spelling my name.

travaux-en-cours

2009-07-13T14:39:00.003-04:00

This summer I will travel to Paris and other cities to work on three projects: an internship at kilo architectures, thesis research in the Paris suburbs, and an architecture travel drawing project funded by the Shellman Prize at Princeton's School of Architecture.

Here is the link to my blog called works-in-progress, which is a personal record of my adventures.

2009-04-28T17:05:00.002-04:00

Six seniors and two juniors won the Spirit of Princeton award. I was one of the juniors. It's in the Daily Princetonian as well as the Princeton website!

2009-04-19T21:37:00.003-04:00

2009-04-18T20:21:00.003-04:00

Finally, finally, good weather has returned to Princeton. In its honour, I am uploading an image of a strangely beautiful face carved on one of the entrances of McCosh Hall. Notice the weird smirk/smile. Princeton is full of these faces - each with its own secret, it's own joke - but we get very little time to stop and notice them.

2009-03-29T08:56:00.004-04:00

It was ironic that I read the two readings from No One is Illegal (for my class on Cities in the 21st Century) on the plane back to New York last Monday morning.

Immediately upon landing I literally came across some of the challenges that Chacon and Davis talk about. Just like everyone else I got in line for visitors, and the immigration officer checked my passport, I-20, etc. But unlike most people, all my stuff was put into an orange folder and I was asked to go "register" myself in a small room at the end of the hallway.

I entered a small waiting room with broken desks, grumpy immigration officers, and a large group of hispanic and south asian people - men, women and children. It bothered me that I had been singled out based on either my nationality or my race. It seemed wrong but I understood why it had to be done: to catch potential terrorists and prevent another 9-11. I would almost have liked to see some arabs in the room, too (after all we had flown out from Dubai)!

What was not okay, however, was the inefficiency with which the officers dealt with each case. The various colored folders lay around for hours, and there was no real order in which people were interviewed. There was a hint of what Guantanamo must be like: we were not allowed to make phone calls and were asked to sit in the seats provided. The officers were suspicious and watchful. They even brought in a convict for whom there was a warrant and asked him to wait with us until they had time to process him.

In the end, after two hours of waiting, I asked to see a supervisor and quoted to him the "pledge" that was written in the main hall of the airport: a promise that the customs officers would respect visitors, smile, etc. He was actually very nice. It could have been that I told him I go to Princeton and had to get back in time for class, or the fact that I spoke any English at all, but immediately I was taken more seriously and helped out.

But the overall ambiguity of my status in that room still confuses me, and I wonder how effective this system is in protecting America from terrorists.

Photo from naamtobatao.wordpress.com.

2009-03-22T01:02:00.031-04:00

As part of the larger project emPOWER, which is a student-led initiative to develop a sustainable power station for the landfill (and surrounding communities) in Karachi, I volunteered to organize an art project for the children in one of the schools there. The idea was to get a better picture of the people who would directly benefit from the project. Since I was in Karachi for the week, it seemed perfect.

On Friday Momin, Muneeb, Anum, Amna, Hiba, Urooj and I went to the north of Karachi to visit the landfill and the schools there that offer free education to the kids from the surrounding slums. We had organized a painting workshop for about 60 kids, an opportunity for them to express themselves through art and tell others their story and the story of their community.

What we saw shocked us, but equally amazing was the energy, joy and creativity that each kid had. Amidst the burning garbage there was hope.

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

Photo by Momin Zafar

2009-03-15T23:19:00.004-04:00

I had told myself I would not notice the taking off and landing of the plane, nor the announcements and security checks at the airports. This wasn't a week-long trip across the planet but a continuous living of life in a global village, where no connections are severed by a mere geographical displacement. Dubia airport had been impressive but my progress on Giedion's Space, Time and Architecture had been more impressive. I had slept and eaten, and was fully awake as we approached Karachi. And then as the landing gear clicked and the plane dipped, my heart skipped. I could no longer resist the little blinking lights of what was once the city of lights. Now they seemed watchful and tired.

Was it strange that I felt love and yearning for a city? Perhaps the city symbolizes a memorable childhood, and encapsulates the spirit of all its inhabitants whom I love.

Karachi has no skyscrapers, no Times Square, no architectural monuments to put on postcards (not since 1947 anyway). It is a blank slate. It's burning history, traditions, and energy are waiting to be articulated in concrete. It's fledgling spirit needs architectural columns to rest on.

What kind of monument, I thought, would be impervious to terrorist bombing or graffiti? What kind of monument would counter the extremist brainwashing of people by providing an alternative avenue for religious discourse? Karachi needs a Hagia Sophia! Will I design it some day?

The plane touches down and I snap my book shut, waiting to get out. Very soon it would be dawn. That, at least, was inevitable.

Goodbye CNN

2009-01-11T00:38:00.003-05:00

I love watching the news. It gives me a feeling of being abreast with the rest of the world, even in this small college town. And while I would often watch Fox News for entertainment, I would of course turn to a more reliable and trusted source for real news, CNN. Until today.

Turns out that there is a special CNN and even a special BBC for America. In the true spirit of the market economy, Americans get exactly the news they want to hear. So in the same bulletin you have 700 Palestinians (or Hamas or whatever, who cares) being bombed (Anderson Cooper has flown to Israel to report on this)... but wait Anderson wants to talk about Obama's new dog, and then Scientology, and then the Porn Industry asking for a bailout (oh, just kidding). Let's discuss Casey Anthony's expressionless face but, wait, Suzie Orman wants to tell me to start saving money. The strangest thing is that no one will find this strange at all, because no one has seen real news for a long time. So while the world anxiously watches a crisis get worse (breaking news, minute-by-minute updates), Bush relaxes in Texas and America watches football, unaware of its power to sway things one way or another. Now I understand why many years ago as I sat on the ground in front of the TV very late at night watching tanks entering Iraq, horrified, Americans didn't use their power to question and change things. They just went with the flow. For once, I agree with Sarah Palin.

The sad thing about the current crisis is that there is no mention of the thousands of rockets fired by Hamas into Israel over a long period of time (oh they must not have killed a lot of people at once, and so it's not newsworthy), and there is no mention of extreme human rights abuses in a war that may threaten the future of the world. People on opposite sides have selective knowledge of the issue and that is why it is so polarizing. It's reading period in America's #1 University (it's still #1 in my eyes okay!) and the overwhelming attitude about the Middle East: don't know, don't care.

Some of the countless great things about America are the freedom of speech, respect, and the peaceful coexistence of diverse peoples. It is important that America reach elsewhere for its news and get rid of false advertising and misleading (alternately euphemistic or overly dramatic) news/entertainment. The internet may be the answer. Those who seek the truth shall find it.

I really should be writing that paper about the art/architecture of Gordon Matta-Clark and Vitto Acconci, and another one about the confrontational art of Andrea Fraser.

2009-01-06T03:44:00.002-05:00

Today my photograph from last summer's project was featured on the main Princeton website! Here's the link to the article: http://www.princeton.edu/main/news/archive/S23/11/71A09/index.xml?section=featured.

In other news, I started a new Twitter account: http://www.twitter.com/waqasjawaid

Latest Twitter post: "We learned to precipitate mass death before we grew out of the neurological disorder of wishing for it." -Bill Maher in Religulous

2009-01-01T17:38:00.003-05:00

With 70 miles of shelving and over 6 million volumes, Firestone is Princeton's largest library. When it opened it was the largest open-stack library in the world: unlike many large libraries you can actually go down and explore the shelves in Firestone. The quest for a book leads to a shelf full of related books or books by the same author.

This picture was taken on a cold winter evening on one of the last days in December 2008. I think it captures well the warmth of the interior of Firestone library.

2008-12-21T16:31:00.005-05:00

These pictures were taken from inside Robert Venturi's Frist Campus Center, just before I left for Harvard and Mount Holyoke College. Now I am back in snowy Princeton and am pretty much here and in New York for the break. Bad weather means Hannie and Hina can't come to visit me for some time. I work (sort of) on my portfolio and other random things in my warm room in Forbes and of course at my desk in the Architecture building. It's quite strange how much I love my desk and how irresistibly I am drawn to it. At other times I educate myself by watching movies, Youtube, and CNN.

2008-12-14T00:14:00.002-05:00

It's winter break... and I just realized I actually have this blog. I had forgotten all about it.

2008-07-03T04:20:00.001-04:00

I will be writing about and putting up pictures from my summer project at http://summersketchbook.blogspot.com

2008-06-26T07:17:00.002-04:00

"Time doesn't change things. Doing things changes things. Not doing things leaves things exactly as they were."

Dr. Gregory House

Read my mind

2008-06-24T03:57:00.003-04:00

This song, like Mr Brightside, is not only powerful because it evokes a strong sense of transience, a sort of yearning, hopeful and resigned at the same time, existential... but also in how it's sung. The video seems to have nothing to do with the song, which of course, is really cool!

News from the Battlefield

2008-06-23T15:02:00.004-04:00

The uncertainty of the visa process is unbearable. To remain positive I have to keep acting. I went to the France consulate in Karachi today. It was very different from the nightmares I had had of me trying to explain my plea, trembling and incoherent, to a harsh faceless entity.

The whole street was blocked off by police barriers. There was barbed wire on the boundary wall and a small but clearly distinguishable French flag. The guards outside were friendly. I asked to meet with someone and strategically handed them my Princeton ID and three letters to take inside: the email from Dr Caddeau at Princeton, Luis' letter (Luis Simon-Perez is a Princeton alum, a professor at the Sorbonne, and a very generous and friendly man), and Mrs Caseau's letter in french (also a Princeton alum). It worked. Later the guards congratulated me for getting permission to enter - many before me, including messengers from courier companies, had been denied entrance.

I was searched with a metal detector, asked to leave my bag outside, and led in through a very heavy metal door with an electronic lock and an intercom. And now I'm wondering if this might be considered unsafe to put on a blog, so I won't describe anything else I saw.

I could not meet today with the Consul General, Pierre Seillan, but at least they heard me out, advised me to send letters to some people in Islamabad, and said I might be able to meet M. Seillan tomorrow. So tomorrow I shall call and see.

There was a tall, young French security person, who looked like he could be a super hero in some children's movie. He was dressed in a smart, crisp uniform. Though I didn't really talk to him, his intent look, sincere tone, and friendly (but broken) English really made me feel welcome at the place.

Meanwhile I got email replies from Princeton officials - it seems a lot of people there know about this and are trying to brainstorm how they can help. I also found the address of Mrs Phoebe Beliard who I have been meaning to write to about this. I sent four A-4 sized envelopes marked URGENT through courier: to M. Seillan, to the ambassador, to Sylvia Fernandez, and to M. Brocard. I met with the director of the Alliance Francais. He was very friendly and empathetic, but told me he could not interfere in the process. He was very welcoming of the idea of exhibiting my work at my return to Karachi, at the AF.

A week to go till July 1st 2008.

2008-06-22T05:16:00.000-04:00

Have you ever felt, when you listened to a song, that, though the words don't even make sense precisely, it captures exactly how you feel? And then have you kept listening to it again and again until it made you really, really, happy (or sad)?

Dear customer, your visa application is under process at the embassy....

2008-06-21T09:07:00.004-04:00

When Uday didn't get his Pakistan visa in the winter of 2004, I wrote to the papers, to government officials, made phone calls to important people, friends, relatives - I think it's called pulling strings - and lo and behold, he got it just in time!

Now I am hanging in the air, with a prestigious award from Princeton (to fund an independent panting project in Paris and Delhi), with airline bookings and room reservations paid for, on the brink of departure, with no France visa. It's a small battle of its own kind. I wrote to Princeton. I wrote to all my French friends and professors. I searched Tigernet for French Princeton alumni and emailed them. Several people have written requests to expedite the visa process. I keep sending explanations and request letters to the embassy in Islamabad. I wrote to the editor of Dawn again. I keep calling to track my passport and every time I hear the same thing "Dear customer, your visa application is under process at the embassy...." My flight leaves on July 1st.

I have the worst kind of creative block and all I can think about is my non-existent visa. I jump to answer phone calls.

2008-06-21T09:04:00.002-04:00

I am reading The Brothers Karamazov. We walked into a movie store and the guy there asked me what it was and was horrified when I said it was a novel. He said his parents have forbidden him to read novels because "you get lost in them." This guy watches Indian movies every day and fears he may get lost in a novel.

2008-06-21T08:55:00.003-04:00

One day, walking into the Fitzrandolph Gate - according to legend you can only walk in through the gate and not back out, or else you put your graduation at risk - I told Andy about something that had been bothering me. It wasn't a great philosophical idea, just a more vivid realization of a great tragedy. There are so many people in this world who don't have the things we do, and that's sad, but the saddest thing is that we have those things and how can we be happy knowing that others don't. Does that make sense?

Several Months Later

2008-06-21T08:45:00.002-04:00

Four excellent Princeton courses later, a semester serving with SVC later, several hundred pages read in Starbucks later, a few novels and architecture books later, tearful goodbyes and joyous reunions later, several thousand miles away, here I am back in Karachi. How can I now recount all that has happened. Can I even put it all down here and thus rob its of its intensity and worth? In recounting it to myself, I have to watch out not to fall into the habit of pondering endlessly over hurdles in life while forgetting the good things as soon as they are realized. Unfortunately if you are out there at all, reading this, I am afraid to tell you that in the last month when I had time for indolence, and hardly an internet connection, I started writing on my own, on the advice of a friend. I could have copy all that here, but I do not think this is the place for it. I should really delete this blog...

Hina My Sister

2008-04-12T12:31:00.006-04:00

Hina Jawaid. Karachi Grammar School, Class of 2008.

Excerpt from my letter of recommendation: In the summer of 2007, Hina was one of five people who initiated, organized and ran the annual summer camp at the SOS Village for Children (an orphanage) in Karachi. The camp served 160 children from the orphanage and 40 underprivileged deaf children from a local school. It involved arts-and-crafts activities, educational workshops, excursions to factories and museums, a carnival (organized by children in Hina’s group), a games night, a barbecue night and a closing ceremony with children’s performances. The camp was preceded by a process of selecting volunteers, where Hina interviewed and selected candidates. I was working with her at that time and witnessed remarkable integrity and meticulousness in her conduct. This was followed by a two-week volunteer training workshop and a crash course in sign language, and Hina was at the forefront of this venture too, getting to know volunteers, organizing various sessions and leading discussions and brainstorming sessions. At the camp itself, she led the 10- to 15-year-old boys’ group, which had about 30 children and 6 volunteers. At meetings, her input was direct and her constructive criticism was effective.

Hina has been volunteering at the camp for five years. During the school year, she teaches street children at a garage school on week-ends. She has helped to organize yearly benefit concerts with a local non-governmental organization. After the recent earthquake in Pakistan, she helped design a fundraiser campaign. She worked with a group on creating colorful wristbands that were sold for Rs. 100 and raised about Rs.100000 for relief items. Yet last summer I saw her serving an indispensable role at the camp. I learned then that she is excellent at conflict resolution, which makes her a good leader. I saw that she had the ability to empathize with her volunteers – I believe that being the third daughter in a family of seven has taught her to strive to excel, while preserving her thoughtfulness and concern for others. As a board member for the Student Volunteers Council at Princeton, I can see Hina as a great addition to the Princeton fabric.
In her final year at school, Hina is a co-editor of Karachi Grammar School’s yearbook/official magazine, the Grammarian. This role is followed by her position last year as the publication’s sub-editor for Art. The book is entirely created by students, from conception, to content, to layout, to artwork and cover design. Additionally the position requires the capability to maintain a delicate balance between making a fun yearbook and representing the school in an official way. Hina works closely with the school administration and the student body to achieve this equilibrium.

Hina is a creative artist. She goes beyond static representation and really paints the world as she “sees” it. In that bold act I see faith and determination, an undeterred desire to stand out and represent her own original ideas rather than letting the world dictate her work. This faith drove her to break from the norm in Pakistan and pursue Art and History at school, subjects she loves. I have often talked to her about her art and there is always a story, an emotion or a message involved. She designed the cover of the Grammarian 2007, created the backdrop for her class play last year and her work was also featured in the international art exhibition for peace in 2004 organized by Youth Initiative for Peace.

In fact, Hina is part of this global peace movement, and was closely involved in organizing the traveling art show in December 2004, which premiered in Karachi and then traveled to six cities in Pakistan and India. The art show was titled “Changing Mindsets” and had more than 600 pieces of artwork created by students and renowned artists from the sub-continent. In Karachi, the opening was preceded by a movie screening and reception, which Hina diligently organized.

New Beginnings

2008-01-25T15:27:00.001-05:00

Exams just ended. I have applied to some summer programs and opportunities, one of which may provide funding for a travel painting portfolio and enable me to spend some part of the summer in Paris and Delhi. Angela, Diana and I have decided to join Terrace (eating-) Club... for now at least, because the deadline for applying is near. Then of course there is the application to become RCA., about which I will find out over intercession.

Intercession break will find me in Washington D.C on an SVC break trip where I will be working with 16 other Princetonians at YSOP. And then... the beginning of the new semester, with exciting courses and my new position as a board member of SVC, the largest student run organization on campus.

Revisiting Moulin Rouge

2008-01-20T22:15:00.001-05:00

The show must go on!
Outside the dawn is breaking
On the stage that holds our final destiny.
The show must go on!
Inside my heart is breaking
But my smile stays on,
The show must go on...

What a perfectly romantic movie: as Oscar Wilde would have said, real life can only try to achieve the perfection of such art.

Angela Bardes

2008-01-15T21:56:00.001-05:00

is best friend, confidante, accomplice at Princeton. She applied to be a Residential College Adviser and I wrote a recommendation for her:

I have known Angela since the first day of freshman year. We are good friends and I am writing this to highlight Angela’s qualities that will make her an ideal Residential College Adviser.

Angela has a great sense of humor. Cheerful and positive, she immediately wins people over and brightens up their day. Within moments she gets a conversation going with complete strangers, and has them laughing. This ability to form personal connections distinguishes her. At the same time she is very careful not to hurt or alienate anyone – she holds a genuine concern for her friends and acquaintances. This respect and appreciation makes her a good team player.

Angela is a good listener, and is kind and understanding, but also conscientious and direct. She will remember people’s names, their concerns, dreams, hopes and ambitions. She is that selfless Princeton student who takes the time out to talk at length with friends who need her. For instance, when her roommate faced health concerns in freshman year, Angela remained devoted and committed to see her through that rough time. Still Angela’s relationship with friends does not impede her good judgment; she is not someone who will be swayed by peer pressure. When it comes to alcohol she stands out as responsible and aware. In fact, late at night on the Prospect Avenue, she will be the one to remind people of boundaries they should not cross, and help them set right their priorities. In situations of conflict, she focuses on the concern at stake, without personally offending anyone. This makes her an ideal mediator in such a situation, or when it comes to seeing that university ideals are upheld by all.

Angela is great at managing time; I have never seen her staying up late to finish homework or to complete readings. Her awareness for university events, dates, deadlines, courses, professors, and resources is extraordinary. How to apply for a Creative Writing course, how to satisfy the ST requirement, how to get on the Daily Princetonian team, what the deadlines are… she has it all at her fingertips. Many times she has been the one to help me clarify my goals and make informed choices at Princeton. For instance when I was deciding whether or no to study abroad she was there to discuss the pros and cons in a very impartial way, and helped me make the right decision. As an RCA she would be a great resource to help focus and put things in perspective, when her advisees are bombarded with information about all the amazing things that Princeton has to offer.

Angela is open to diverse points of view and backgrounds. She makes a real effort to learn about other cultures, to support and attend events focused on marginalized groups, and to play her role in creating the brilliantly diverse community that Princeton is. Conversely she has long been the liaison between me and American norms and culture – ever there to tell me that “Sick!” is a complement and that the answer to “what’s up” is “what’s up.” [part missing] She is modest and caring; someone who I know would go out of her way to meet, and go beyond, all the expectations of her as an RCA!

Karrrrrachi!

2008-01-15T21:44:00.000-05:00

I live and breathe here, but it seems my heart lies there. I miss the people, the scents, the noise, the life, the adventure, the buzz... of the city that Karachi is - I miss home.

2008-01-01T02:13:00.001-05:00

Another hour, another day... we move into a new year.

Delirious New York

2007-12-27T20:36:00.000-05:00

In other news: I went to New York with Hannie, Angela, Colleen and Angelica. We went to Central Park for ice skating, which was as fun in the end as it was impossible at first. As always, the lights and crowds in New York swept me away, and it was only Hannie's presence that prevented me from spending too much money.

2007-12-27T14:22:00.000-05:00

Twelve days before elections in Pakistan, Benazir Bhutto, daughter of the greatest democratic leader we have seen, first woman Prime Minister of Pakistan, a significant part of Pakistani politics, has been assassinated near Liaquat Bagh, Rawalpindi. She wasn't the most amazing Prime Minister but her death is a huge loss to the country, especially because it represents the end of what she represents and the rise of Islamic extremism.

Khamosh Paani

2007-12-25T17:02:00.001-05:00

This is one of a few amazing movies I have watched in these lazy winter days at Princeton, days which start at 2pm, consist of 2 hours of sunlight and stretch on till 4.30am. My sister Hannie is visiting from Mount Holyoke College. We got groceries and she cooked Pakistani food:)

Hina is applying to colleges and I have written a peer recommendation for her. I really hope she gets into some good colleges in the US.

So anyway, Khamosh Paani or "Silent Waters" is a movie every Pakistani should watch. It's an interesting window into the Pakistan we never got to know, the Pakistan before Zia-ul-Haq's regime brought extremism to our country. The beautifully tragic story... I will not ruin for you. For a more detailed review, go here.

My Design Gallery

2007-12-24T19:13:00.000-05:00

I updated it. I can be accessed here or at http://www.waqasjawaid.com.

Daily Princetonian Front Page

2007-12-24T02:03:00.001-05:00

A window into the SOS Village world.

STARDUST

2007-12-21T16:24:00.001-05:00

I watched this movie in Sohaib's room last night and I loved it. If you liked Moulin Rouge and Lord of the Rings you will enjoy this a lot! If you are down and need some magic in your life this is the movie to watch!

2007-12-20T19:38:00.000-05:00

It has been several orange key tours, many nights of reading and French homework, countless problem sets, a birthday, a few Boston Legal episodes, an SVC Communicator, a front page feature on the Daily Princetonian, a handful of difficult decisions and new ventures, some new friendships and personal relationships, and a lot more since I last wrote here. It must be a pretty boring blog indeed! My life must seem quite banal. Well, it isn't.

Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom and Severus Snape

2007-08-18T02:12:00.000-04:00

I had thought for some time (especially since the movies started coming out) that I was quite over Harry Potter. But all the excitement of Goblet of Fire, which had I read when I was 14, was back. Spectacular, theatrical, brilliant, witty, grand, thrilling.... Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows gives all the answers and solves all the riddles.

[DO NOT READ BEYOND THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BOOK YET!]

Deathly Hallows is reminiscent of Lord of the Rings (sometimes quite starkly) in its grandeur, but I love how Rowling moves beyond the good-vs-evil theme to explore the gray areas in the life of Dumbledore, as well as Voldemort. The exploration of ideas such as death, and "the greater good" as perceived by the elite, are also very intriguing. Most of all, I love the treatment given to characters like Snape and Dobby, the book's tragic heroes. Here lies Dobby, a free elf. Beautiful!

Though it is a children's book that may perhaps lack the subtlety of fully rounded characters, it is still a masterpiece. For me, its magic lay in the way it made me feel like a child once more, especially when the whole of Hogwarts prepared for battle (like when the people of Rohan took arms against Saruman but much more intense, as all magical creatures joined in). While I mourn the deaths of the fallen, I must say I have not felt this thrilled, excited, amazed and scared since the summer camp. Lastly, I had always known that Dumbledore must have asked Snape to kill him. Aha! I was right!

Harry Potter and the SOS Village

2007-08-14T16:58:00.000-04:00

[...CONTINUED FROM "REVISITING MALEER HALT"]
I can be quite theatrical, I realized, when a handful of hyper children finally settled around me, as I started off with my Urdu version of Harry Potter. With a lot of gesturing, using the sign language I knew (while inventing the signs I didn't) and a little help from Jessica, the DRTC teacher, even the deaf children seemed to become, ahem, spellbound.

So when despite the attempts of his evil khala (aunt) to prevent him, when Harry Potter finally opened the letter addressed to him, he saw it was in English and he could not read it! So he went to his friend Mishaal (here four-year-old Mishaal's face lights up and all the other children are awed) and she was happy to be of help. It said: Dear Harry Potter, you have been admitted to the SOS Village.

One by one all the children were featured in the story, and eventually, to save Harry from danger, all of them formed a train (the Hogwarts Express) by holding the shoulders of the kid in front. If the train broke, Harry Potter would fall out.... Some of their fascination obviously came from the fact that, like Harry, these kids didn't have parents, and had nowhere to go until they came to the SOS Village.

So we had a morning session and an evening session each day, and we had already meticulously planned what each group would be doing when. The first day was slightly disorganized. All right, that might be an understatement: when I entered the Small Auditorium where both the Orange groups were supposed to be working, there was a huge mess and thirty kids were running around wild, the volunteers standing helplessly on the sidelines. How was this going to work, I thought, most of these people hadn't done this before. All our battle plans seemed to be falling apart at the onslaught. Against my instincts, I stayed calm, had the kids seated and explained to them the rules. We had a meeting with all the volunteers during break and we agreed that aside from the team-leader, who would be managing the activity, all other volunteers would sit and work with their three children at all times.

We decided to include a lot more outdoor activities so the kids could channel their energy.

There was a marked improvement. I saw that the less I interfered, the less the volunteers relied on me to solve each and every little problem, and the better they got at their job. During this time we got to know the children really well, having had time to talk to them. I could even tell the twins, Tooba and Shehnaz, apart!

By the third day, we were generally doing spectacularly on the activities (Aside from the occasional team-leader reduced to tears after a long day, by either the kids or the volunteers working under them).

There was therefore the need to have those private talks with volunteers to remind them of our expectations, and that seemed to solve most of our issues.

Soon I got to know the strengths and weaknesses of all the volunteers quite well, and learned that each of the four leaders had a unique way of working. It became easier to decide who would work better where, who was independent and best left alone, and where I needed to be. I became more of a support person, who would arrange for the DVD player, put up shiner charts for each group, make new name tags, facilitate meetings, address discipline issues and basically motivate the entire team.

The excursions were a whole other matter. We faced the same disorder on the morning of our first excursion and I knew that if even one of these fifty-five little children were hurt, I would never be able to forgive myself. I checked and rechecked lists. It was hot and sweaty and it seemed no one was organized. Everyone wanted to leave and Mary told me we were late. Someone said the cooler was leaking and I found myself screaming, "Deal with it man, I'm not going to come fix it for you!" Meanwhile I went to the two buses and painstakingly checked off the SOS kids' names and then the deaf kids' names and made sure that each of the 28 volunteers had 2 or 3 kids with them. The bus engines roared. The kids erupted into screams of delight and songs (They love getting out of the orphanage). Exhausted, I crashed in the front seat and checked and corrected my lists again. I was never going to lose temper again. This would never happen again. Not at the camp.

The kids loved the electronic rides (especially the bumper cars) despite the intense heat. One kid got sick but the volunteers were great at handling that and we asked the driver to get 25 more large bottles of water. Even the volunteers seemed to be loving the rides. Finally we were back - all of us, thankfully!

Meanwhile the games night was approaching and a few of us got together to discuss a strategy for that. On the day itself, we had defined specific jobs and put down names of people under those headings. That way people would know where they needed to be. We then had a large meeting to go over details, critique them and finalize our plan.

At seven o'clock the bell would ring and the kids would start coming in; that was the deadline we were working toward. With Henna returning from retirement for the day and Ovais being a super leader, everything went almost flawlessly! The barbecue team outside, led by Ahmed and Hina, was efficient and commendable; by the time we were done, a roaring campfire, and innumerable hot dogs, chips and drinks awaited us.

Henna and I ran the show and the kids loved the games. There were three teams and the games were designed for different age groups. The team leader volunteers would nominate the players from their teams and the competition would take place on stage. We had finally resolved all logistic problems such as who would blow the balloons for the "Burst the Balloons" game. This was done, for instance, by introducing a balloon-blowing game for the older boys!

The second week started and we had to start planning the carnival, and the last evening, complete with video- and picture slide-show, sending invites, deciding on a guest performer, and preparing the prizes for the children. Activities and excursions continued for all groups and varied greatly (I only write here about my own group but the scope of the summer camp was much larger than this alone).

The volunteers were great with the children.

The carnival this year was organized by the middle-boys' group. They worked very hard and we were all proud of their achievement. They had designed stalls for outdoor games and tickets for the younger kids to carry and mark their winnings. There was face-painting, races, sponge-the-bozo, and ice cream!

Finally the last day was approaching and Ayesha and I started to plan the program for the evening where we would be emceeing. It was back again to planning, setting deadlines, rules, defining responsibilities for the evening; all in all, it was an immense thing to coordinate.

We were either really good, or the the kids were loving the camp too much, knowing it was about to end, because we faced no more discipline problems. The name of the child pictured below is Saddam Hussain and you can see he is busy working on his greeting card.

We were kidding about how on the final evening we should send Saddam and Osama to go and receive the prizes for the youngest kids' groups. But on a serious note, it is interesting how our experiences make us the people we are, and I am positive that, owing to the positive nurturing environment he is in, this child will grow up to be a very fine person.

Before we knew it it was seven o'clock on the evening of Thursday, 26th July 2007. The displays of all the children's work were up in the lobby and the auditorium was set up. The whole place was bustling with people. We had brought along a change of clothes that day and looked proper for the occasion. The trustees of SOS Village, the principals, the sponsors, the CEO of HSBC Pakistan... they were all there.

It was a lot of fun emceeing. I was in this elated state where nothing could make me nervous - not the heat, not the booming sound system, not the delay that forced us to go up on stage and improvise by calling up kids and talking to them. It was a blast! For me it is a long way from when I could hardly talk in front of people. I was also proud of my Urdu, a result of watching local news everyday in light of the very volatile situation in Pakistan at that time.

In fact, once the program ended and the guests left for dinner the DJ turned the music up and the kids came up on stage and we all danced to a few songs. The deaf kids were the most animated and I wondered if they could sense the music somehow: Richard had said something about them being able to sense low pitched sounds.

And then it was goodbyes, exchanging phone numbers, tears from some children and some volunteers too... leaving SOS is always difficult...

EPILOGUE
"Dear Waqas, Nazish, Ozair, Danish, Madiha, Mehvish, Maryam, Haris, Mustafa, Ahmar, Ayesha, Ammar, Beenish, Shazia, Nadir, Hamza, Pyari, Mohammed, Farwa, Sarah, Elaine, Johnny, Joyanne, Hina Ather, Danish, Alia, Sana, Asad, Joe, Rashid, Umama, Aniq, Madiha, Sarah, Kanza, Mariam, Aniya, Aisha, Soha, Ayesha, Huma, Nida, Fatimah, Moeen, Ahmad, Ali, Ali, Hassan, Iman, Harris, Saifullah, Ovais, Henna, Fizza, Sarah. Sijal, Menaal and all,

"Wow, this was a long list to type but that is part of our appreciation for all your love, care, energy and hard work that you put into the preparation of the camp as well as into the actual camp days. Thank you so, so much and all that love will live on in the hearts of each of the children that you cared for.

"I know it was not always easy and your patience and endurance were tested in the heat of the summer. When you thought activities were finished, there was just one more hour left to keep the children busy. The workshops suddenly came alive when faced with disciplinary issues and personality differences. I am proud to say though that you made it as a team with flying colors. I hope that when you look back on this camp, you can say that it was the best thing you could have done with your summer holidays, realizing that it changed the lives of many children and teens your age.

"We are trying to work out a little get-together for everyone and I’ve already called quite a few people to let them know that coming Saturday might be an option for us to do that. Could you please give me a call on Thursday to confirm this and I’ll give you further details then. We will also pass on certificates to you at that time for both the workshops and for the actual camp.

"I came across this beautiful quote that says: “Give for the joy of giving, knowing that you are the one blessed by having the ability and resources and will to help another.”

"Thank you once again, you were a fantastic team to work with.

"With our Love and appreciation,

"Mary and Mike

"For ‘Family Educational Services Foundation’"

Revisiting Maleer Halt

2007-08-13T13:34:00.000-04:00

So everyone agrees that they love Princeton more when they're away, but I was glad when some skills I'd learned at Princeton really came in handy this summer.

For nine years now, FESF has been organizing this summer camp for the kids at SOS: two intense weeks of fun activities, vocational workshops, excursions, movies, a games and barbecue night, and a final evening of performances and prizes. The kids wait for these two weeks all year round.

It was slightly daunting as our group of five sat in the air-conditioned living room on a searing hot June afternoon launching preparations for the 2007 camp with Mary Reik, the director and organizer of the annual camp at the SOS Village (an orphanage) in Karachi. A lot of our experienced volunteers had not been able to join us this year and, having volunteered at this camp for the last five years, I suddenly found myself in a central, responsible role. There would be a team of fifty volunteers and if ever teamwork was important, it was now. As we critiqued last year's camp and brainstormed ideas for this one, I became more confident and realized how important it was to be positive and focussed. Looking back more than a month later, I can say that it really was a splendid experience!

INTERVIEWS
We had scheduled interviews for new volunteers: two of us interviewed each applicant; we had a list of questions and a form to write down responses and then our final impressions. Behind the very professional demeanor, I was absolutely thrilled to get to know so many new people, to get to ask them questions about their life and work, and to see how nervous some were. These were generally high school and college students (some had heard of me - which was super flattering) and lets just say I wasn't the scariest interviewer around (which would result in an embarrassed silence when weeks later at the camp, someone would remark: Who interviewed this freak?). I learned that seemingly great interviewees can be deceptive losers and some uncertain candidates can turn out to be great team-workers - not a general rule though!

WORKSHOPS
We would have deaf kids from the DRTC school coming for the summer camp again this year so the workshops included forty-five minutes of a sign language crash course everyday.

This was my second year so I felt much more comfortable with it. I learned that there exists a deaf culture around the world and deaf people in one region may relate better to deaf people in other regions than hearing people in their own countries. We learned the American Sign Language (ASL), one of many that exist. Richard (our teacher) told us that deaf kids are very expressive with their gestures and movement and can be restless, but that should not be considered offensive. He said that sign language is like any other language and because we were going to be surrounded by so many deaf kids at the camp, he was being nice and teaching us this talent so that we might feel better about ourselves. I loved the way he taught us to understand deafness, and that knowledge resulted in some truly amazing silent (but highly animated) conversations at the camp. The little kids gave me a name sign, a sign that can be used when referring to me - it is supposed to be characteristic of the person and all the deaf kids had one.

The workshops lasted for seven days and included special training by Mary (she uses a lot of this material for her teacher training workshops!) on teamwork, leadership, working with children and conflict resolution. We learned to define clear rules and have consistent rewards and consequences for the kids.

During the workshops we got to know the volunteers and made some very good friends. Tea was especially nice after long sessions of intensive work. Once we had assessed people's preferences about what age group of kids they wanted to work with (and also got to know them a little and ascertain where they would be "most needed") we put up a list of who would be where. There were some grievances to be addressed regarding this: A little bit of "We need your energy there most!" or "Yes we know you can work with her better but the whole idea is to make new friends!" did the trick.

Ayesha and I led some of the brainstorming sessions - like the one on excursions. It was really a lot of fun to break the sometimes serious mood of the discussion with something humorous or ironic - especially if it went unnoticed by the majority of the people. We managed to plan the camp quite well, if one is to compare with previous years.

I was in charge of the around twenty-five volunteers who would be working with the youngest children (four- to ten-year-olds). We had four smaller groups, Yellow A and B, and Orange A and B. So after assigning Team Leaders (some were naturally great - others became great by the time we were done) and Assistant Team Leaders, we realized that a lot of shifting needed to be done, to assure that each team was equally strong, and occasionally a few people were asked to step aside for a word (that meant trouble!). I got really good at this by the end and Mary started to rely on my ability to carry it out on my own, which was the whole point of having individuals overlooking large groups - so that one person didn't have to worry about everything. One of the greatest lessons I learned was that to make something very big happen, you have to rely on the power of team-work and trust your teammates - you cannot afford to micro-manage.

So for the youngest kids' groups we planned out each of the eight days of camp and reviewed and critiqued it all, and then planned some more. We tried to add themes and focus each day on a certain learning idea. Meanwhile sponsors and people at excursion venues had to be contacted and details had to be finalized.

We had special planning sessions for the games and barbecue night, which typically requires all hands on deck for planning and executing a very complicated, greatly tiring and extremely fun evening. Whatever was left out was now going to be ironed out at the camp itself. The preparations were done and the camp was about to begin.
[CONTINUED IN "HARRY POTTER AND THE SOS VILLAGE"...]