Some Work of Noble Note

I'm sure Tennyson did not have my belly dancing class in mind when he penned those words. Ulysses speaks of his desire to leave the comfort and safety of his home to return to the adventure of discovery. Here in the twenty-first century, many people view the start of a new year as a time to make resolutions which they hope will allow them to discover better selves. For me, the idea of living a better life is wedded to trying new things. As a teacher, I'm lucky to have two opportunities to begin my year afresh: January 1st, and the beginning of each school year. Sort of unconsciously I have found myself beginning this school year with several new endeavors, all of which have potential to turn out disastrously and all of which I'm enjoying immensely.

Endeavor #1: Climbing

I fell in love with rock climbing in Tennessee where, at Vanderbilt, I joined an outdoor club and climbed on a real rock for the first time; previously I'd climbed only artificial rock walls. Alas, while life in New York provides lots of opportunities to do all kinds of things, rock climbing is not among them. (Rumor has it that one can go bouldering in Central Park, but I've heard it's anticlimactic and dirty.) Driving upstate to climb requires a car, equipment, and a solid knowledge of knots, none of which I have ready access to. But my friend Seint, who took up gym climbing in college to impress a guy she had a crush on, invited me recently to a climbing gym in midtown and I think we're going to make a habit of going. After our first day there yesterday, my arms and shoulders are aching, but we had an absolutely fantastic time. It's certainly not the same as scaling a sheer limestone face in the Smokies, but the gym is big enough and provides enough challenges that I think I can sharpen my skills pretty well until my next chance to do the real thing. I'll write about the experience in more detail and include pictures in an upcoming post.

Endeavor #2: Belly Dancing

This, I predict, will be my most spectacular failure. I saw a poster advertising lessons and invited my friend Julia along. (Julia loves spectacles and I figured the sight of my attempting to belly dance would be right up her alley.) The class takes place each Friday night on main campus and consists of a whole lot of giggly undergraduate girls and us (also giggly). Three girls from the Columbia belly dancing team - yes, we have one - tag team on instruction. The room, blessedly, has no mirrors, so I am not able to see how badly I'm doing. I love it, which I believe is largely due to the lack of mirrors. The music is exotic and the teachers manage to bring a sense of sisterhood to the whole thing that you can imagine women sharing in far-off countries centuries ago. We've learned to do the shrill undulating scream that middle eastern women do to show approval, and we encourage each other with it when classmates perform. I sense that I lack some key body parts necessary to produce the "juicy shimmy" that our teachers describe, but I do the best I can. It's surprisingly fatiguing, and is a great way to cap off my week.

Endeavor #3: Homemade Sourdough

Most of my conversations in graduate school revolve around abstract philosophy, politics, travel, alcohol, and food. Recently, because scholarly and academic topics seemed too exhausting and no one has any money with which to travel or buy beer, I found myself chatting to a friend about San Francisco's sourdough bread. (He is from Spain and had never encountered sourdough before spending a year there. He is currently in withdrawal.) I found myself saying that I had always wanted to try making it from scratch, then realized that it was true. I've baked many a loaf of bread in my day, but sourdough requires a starter, and so I hopped online for instructions and mixed up my own batch. At the time of this writing, Doughie is two hours old. By tomorrow morning it may already be time for its first feeding! I'm quite interested to see how this turns out. Stay tuned for pictures and news of Doughie and, with luck, an account of my first successful baking.