An intern's first week

First day:
It took me 3 HOURS to get to work. I had no idea what the Chicago Transit Authority was like, but now I know I was spoiled with Athenian public transportation. First, I took the "Metra" train into Union Station in downtown Chicago. The Chicago bus system was a culture shock in itself. I knew there was a bus directly to the Field Museum, but according to the sign it only runs from "mid-morning to late afternoon." Obviously 8:30 AM isn't mid-morning. So, I walked six blocks to another bust stop and waited again. The schedules may say "every ten minutes" but I was at the stop for 35 minutes without one stopping. It also didn't help that the airport information booth gave me a public tranportation map from 2003. Welcome to Chicago! So, I was late for my orientation, but after telling them I had bus trouble, everyone nodded in an understanding way.

I picked up my nifty ID badge and handy-dandy keys and was given a tour of the storage rooms. There are two main storage facilities on the 3rd floor, Anthro wing. Both contain Native American artifacts (in addition to other kinds). I cannot even begin to describe the feeling one gets when standing amidst the plethora of beautiful, significant, and in some cases sacred objects in those rooms. The vast majority of them will never be viewed by the public, and many won't be viewed by the staff either.

My supervisor, Isabel is AWESOME! She's 28, enthusiastic, and treats me not like a lowly minion, but as a valuable assistant to whom she can delegate unwanted work. As Collections Manager, she has one other intern. His name is Evan, and he'll also be a senior Anthro major (plus English major) next year. Evan has a sarcastic humor that livens up the records office. Friday some of the staff went out for a beer after work. We hurried over to a little place down Printer's Row. Apparently, there are few places in Chicago that sell beer by the pitcher, and "Kasey's" was one of them. After long conversations about nothing Anthro related, and finding out that one of the interns went to high school with Katie Hogan, we parted our separate ways for a nice, relaxing weekend.

Currently, I'm going through the records in the Anthro office to find out information on specific artifacts and collections. I've been privileged to read and touch handwritten inventories and correspondence between the collectors, ethnologists, museum curators, directors etc. such as Frank Boas and Paul J. Warner. The handwriting is difficult to read, and I realize how much more accustomed I am to reading type.

Though the accession files are full of monotonous invoices and contracts, there are gems too. I came across a correspondence from the very early 1900s. One letter was in response to an inquiry by the museum. His reply was basically: I'm sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. I was in the Bahamas, and then upon returning, I lost your letter for a while...but now I found it...so now I'm writing you back. Of course this was all in the typical polite, flower prose of the era. It's quite amusing to read the requests to be paid when they are written in this manner. Even when the person is owed money, he ends the letter with "I beg to remain, very truly yours, Director of Botany" and so on.

I remain, very truly yours,
Noelle

Kristina

Well, I've received multiple requests (which some would consider 'threats') to post.

My trip to Chicago was pretty uneventful...except for the Pasco airport. I was standing in line ready to go through security where the officer checks IDs to their corresponding boarding passes. Well, the woman looked at me in my jeans, sweatshirt, and tennis shoes and asked, "Are you under 18?" I cynically smiled and said, "No, but I look like it." She then received my driver's license that clearly stated my age...21. I wouldn't think twice about it, because I do indeed look younger than I am, but I was wearing a Notre Dame sweatshirt. I mean, chances are with that attire I'm ATTENDING ND. Hey, I'll love it when I'm 40 I suppose. I just better keep my ID on me for the time being...

...too bad I can't seem to find my license right now. I haven't unpacked yet, so I can't say I've lost it, but that's damn inconvenient when I'm carded everywhere. The Anthro Dept. is going out to a fun bar Friday after work, and I'd like to get in! There's always my passport...

I took a cab from O'Hare to Berwyn, a suburb of Chicago. The trip cost $30, which is cheaper than I thought it would be. Kristina gave me detailed descriptions of where her house was and what it looked like, so I could immediately pick it out. It's right on the corner of 34th. Here's my address by the way:

6600 34th Street
Berwyn, IL 60402

And I need to introduce Kristina, whom I consider the nicest woman in the world.

Kristina is a friend of Maura's, who lives in, you guessed it, Berwyn. Maura, hearing my plea for a place to stay, emailed all her Chicago buddies on the off-chance that one would have an extra room, couch, or hammock. Kristina responded in full! She said to Maura, "any friend of yours is a friend of mine." She offered her extra bedroom for the whole ten weeks, to a stranger of whom she knew needed a break. Kristina is a Greek American, very in touch with her roots. According to Maura, she's "SOOOOO SWEET."

However, I have yet to meet her. Currently, Kristina is IN GREECE taking an intensive language course in Modern Greek. Knowing that she wouldn't be here when I arrived, she left me detailed instructions on where the house key was, how to overcome the tricky door, and how to water the sod, as well as giving me access to her computer and train pass, and offering the use of her car to go pick up groceries. PSHAW! [Upon hearing this, Greg Hart said, "Have you ever won the lottery? I think you just did."]

Kristina returns on the 19th of June. Until then, I'm watering the lawn and keeping the house spotless for when the real estate agents come by to show the house. (Kristina's in the market for a condo downtown...which means I can help her move out and have a short transit to work.) In all, I get a place to stay, a city guide, a social connection, and a Greek buddy for the price of splitting utilities. BONUS!

Back by popular demand...

A few readers have asked about me keeping a Chicago blog. Well, since I've already go this lovely web address, I've decided to continue updating all you family and friends here.

I'm welcome for any suggestions concerning content, format, etc.

Updates

Now that I have time, I will continually update the blog by posting about other experiences in Greece not yet recorded, pictures included. That said, I will post them within the events' original timeframes, so the reader should scroll through the post titles and find the ones s/he hasn't read.

Eimai eva kalo paidi

So my final days in Athens drew to a close ten hours ago. Maura and Manos, in their infinite generosity, have tolerated my constant presence for about a week now. Not only was I welcomed into their home, but I was also fed in a very Greek fashion. mmmmm bugatsa

I said my goodbyes to the Family and received possibly one of the best comments ever. Katerina said, "Eisai eva kalo paidi." meaning "You are a good child." which Manos translated to "You're good peeps." Yiayia recognized me every time I stopped by. I gave her kisses on the cheeks, she shook my hand and smiled. As soon as I'm home, I'll hyperlink those photos to you.

I'll miss yiayia. She's a beautiful woman. I'll miss Rosa, who is the fastest worker I've ever encountered, only to be outdone by the speed of her Georgian (the language). I'll miss Katerina who never failed to make me feel welcome. I'll miss Adonis who practiced his English with the line, "Good morning girls" then reverted back to Greek for the rest of the day. He still owes me an autographed photo! I'll miss Maria who is one of the most independent Greek women I've met, dancing the zebekiko. I'll even miss Alex, especially because I never got to hear him yell, "Manolis! Manolis! (Get my hat)" to which Manos whispered to Maura, "Pretend you don't hear him." I'll miss Manos' endless supply of nicknames for me, two of which are: The Little One and Noelle Baggins. I'll miss Maura's advice and will always remember the look on her face when she burned rubber throughout Athens.

I was incredibly lucky to have stumbled upon the Kalaitzakis doorstep in January.

Thus ends another academic year

I am officially finished with classes. I must say that I quite enjoyed the course material even though the actual classes themselves could be a drag at times. I was most surprised by my Byzantine Art & Architecture class. Registering for this course, I had only the vaguest idea what I was signing up for. My knowledge of Byzantine history has improved exponentially (though still remedial at best) and my appreciation for the art of that period has as well. I not only learned about art, architecture, and history throughout this area of the world, but also acquired a better understanding of the Eastern Orthodox church.

1204 AD

That date is known universally in Greece. All orthodox members know this year and continue to carry a grudge against the "West" for sacking and looting Constantinople. It occurred after the Eastern patriarch hired mercenaries from Venice, yet failed to pay them. These Venetians took what was owed to them from The City in the form of relics, sacred objects, and anything portable. The Greek Orthodox have never forgiven the desecration of their beloved city. Even today, Istanbul is referred to as "Constantinople" on street signs, maps, and the monitors in the airport.

...and I'm back!

So, after experiencing Greek Easter and the beauty of Santorini, I'm back. However, I'm also in-the middle of finals, so there won't be any in depth posting until after Tuesday.