A funny thing happened yesterday. I was busily transcribing old correspondence between Lt. Emmons regarding accession file 807, when Brigitta came in an announced, "Noelle, security called and said you have visitors at the South Entrance." "What? But I don't know anyone in Chicago." "Well, they gave both your first and last name, so it must be legit." "Uh, ok...." So I took the south stair to the ticket lines and who should I find but The Gateses! Marie's family had taken a trip to Chicago for Mrs. Gates' birthday! They were so sweet to contact me. I remembered I had work to do, and couldn't show them around, but Mrs. Gates invited me to dinner with them later that evening.
After work, I slipped into the Field Museum Store and bought a cute little clay, three-legged pig, good-luck charm from Chile and a beautifully painted Chinese birthday card. We met up and headed over to Navy Pier. Dinner was at Riva's cafe, where I tried the crab cake sandwich. We strolled down to the end of the pier, stopping to read the historical plaques. Mrs. Gates decided she wanted to ride the Ferris Wheel, so Mr. & Mrs Gates, Thomas, Anne, and I all enjoyed the 7-minute ride and BEAUTIFUL view of Chicago. For dessert, we visited a great popcorn shop that I had seen featured in $40 a Day. The Gateses were nice enough to drive me to Union Station, and while in transit I presented Mrs. Gates with her charm. She was completely surprised and promised it would go on the ledge of her sink, with all her other trinkets. As I jumped out of their van and waved goodbye, I felt content with the fact that I can hold my own in a social situation (feeling comfortable talking to the adults as well as the kids), and happy that I contributed to a great birthday celebration for a family that has been so kind to me and made my day with a thoughtful visit.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Sunday, June 19, 2005
The Organic Rebellion
Chewbroccoli?
http://www.StoreWars.org
I haven't laughed so hard since a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.
http://www.StoreWars.org
I haven't laughed so hard since a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.
Friday, June 17, 2005
The second
Earlier this week, I had to opportunity to help Isabel "pull" objects from the storage rooms. We pulled a painting on linen, bow, arrows, digging stick, and a drum. Two of these tested positive for arsenic, so we were more careful with them. You see, in the early 2oth century human's infinite wisdom, collectors and curators decided to tackle their bug woes indefinitely. Many artifacts were teeming with critters, and the solution to this problem was dousing the objects with arsenic and other deadly chemicals. Of course, they didn't use enough to "harm" people, but when thousands of contaminated objects are placed in one room, it gets dicey. Anyway, the artifacts had a Blackfoot provenience and were going to be used by the Newberry Library for a temporary exhibit. They were beautiful! AND I managed NOT to break anything.
People Watching:
While on the train, I tend to slip into "people watching" mode. Yesterday I sat in front of two middle-aged women with Rhode Island accents. The conversation was absolutely hilarious. The first women mentioned her 16 year old son getting a job. He went around to the fast food places and submitted his application. Well, he was turned down everywhere. Both he and his mother couldn't figure out why he wasn't hired. Apparently, he's a really good, charismatic kid. After a while, he got up enough guts to apply again. He called his mom at work and said, "I know why they won't hire me. It's because I don't speak Spanish." "You mean Burger King and Wendy's doesn't have enough turnover to hire a kid like you JUST because you don't speak Spanish?!" "I guess so...but I got an interview at Taco Bell." ... Yeah. So the English-speaking kid that couldn't work at BK or Wendy's is now working at Taco Bell. If that isn't ironic, I don't know what is.
People Watching:
While on the train, I tend to slip into "people watching" mode. Yesterday I sat in front of two middle-aged women with Rhode Island accents. The conversation was absolutely hilarious. The first women mentioned her 16 year old son getting a job. He went around to the fast food places and submitted his application. Well, he was turned down everywhere. Both he and his mother couldn't figure out why he wasn't hired. Apparently, he's a really good, charismatic kid. After a while, he got up enough guts to apply again. He called his mom at work and said, "I know why they won't hire me. It's because I don't speak Spanish." "You mean Burger King and Wendy's doesn't have enough turnover to hire a kid like you JUST because you don't speak Spanish?!" "I guess so...but I got an interview at Taco Bell." ... Yeah. So the English-speaking kid that couldn't work at BK or Wendy's is now working at Taco Bell. If that isn't ironic, I don't know what is.
Monday, June 13, 2005
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
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
Thursday, June 09, 2005
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!
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!
Monday, June 06, 2005
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.
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.
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