ktravula – a travelogue!

Browsing the archives for the Soliloquy category.

At the Washington University in St. Louis

America has its treasures. One of them is a series of campus buildings of picture perfect quality. Actually, for a long while, the only images I had in my head of Universities were those of high rise walls and columns with a facade reminiscent of a prison or a palace. The closest to that I’ve seen so far would be Howard University with its beautiful structures, courtyards and decorated trees. And then, there was Principia College in Alton, overlooking the Mississippi river. The rest were Hollywood supplied: Mona Lisa Smile, Finding Forrester, The Scent of a Woman, and The Dead Poets Society, and a few other movies showing Ivy League campus environments.

And then I encountered the Washington University in St. Louis*, by chance I must say, during an idle moment of driving through the town. After an hour of walking through its walls and taking in the sights, I began to wonder how people who go there manage to concentrate on classwork in the sight of such beauty and serenity. I would never know, but I would keep wondering whether too much beauty is sometimes an unpardonable evil.

(*Initially mistakenly referred to as St. Louis University, the pictured structure is actually from Washington University in St. Louis. Thanks to Gerry Everding for the correction).

Weekend Plans and Tunes

I was singing Fela’s Lady as loudly as possible in the shower today for no reason. It’s a phase that comes and goes. A particular song finds its way back into my consciousness and remains there for days until something else knocks it off. Without doubt one of the musician’s most danceable and happiness inducing tunes, Lady has taken over my consciousness; not just the singing part of the track but the nice arrangement of horns, guitars and drums that introduce it. I now have reason to believe that Fela included so much instrumentation time on his tracks and little singing time so that when the listener feels like listening only to the sounds, they can be catered for without having to endure his voice, or politics.

My weekend has begun. It mostly begins on Thursday evenings when all classes are done. What I’ve been doing since then out of class work is scouring the internet for new places to visit. My search has led me to the Scott Joplin’s House in St. Louis and the Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts Centre also in the city. I have tonight to get much of my course work out of the way then take to the road. I can’t think of something more fun to do this weekend.

Now, those interested in Fela’s ballads should do well to check this out. One of his most famous slow jamz is titled Trouble Sleep Yanga Wake Am as well as Dog Eat Dog and Observation is No Crime. Needless to say, I’m so extremely jealous of those discovering Fela’s music for the very first time. Even for me listening to them again in intervals of weeks, I still get the same thrills of the very first time. Enjoy the weekend, good people.

Note on photo: Seen at the International Institute last week. I never knew that Joseph Pulitzer was an immigrant. He came into the country from Hungary.

It is Written

Maybe I should have started the report on my crazy religious weekend from the mosque visit. After all, we went there first. Now, that particular post coming at the end of a long and beautiful description of the other places I went to on the same day, I feel like an angry blogger – something I’ve tried to consciously avoid. Life is too short to spend being angry all the time. Not when there is so much beauty around to satisfy even the most ordinary life. So there, I’m done with complaining for the next couple of weeks. Again, religion is a testy topic, and I’ve been warned to steer clear of its contentious parts. I’ve not taken well to that piece of advice. Sorry mum.

And so a new week begins, hopefully on a positive note. I thank you for voting in the poll on the right side. I’ve been too lazy to blog about it. I have a few academic papers to put in during this week so I don’t hope to blog much as it goes by (but we all know how well I stick to that promise). There may be other things I forgot to put in the poll, but if you have any ideas, feel free to include them under “others.”

In any case, here’s just a quick note to say that I’m still breathing. I bought two lovely postcards from the Cathedral Basilica and I’m willing to send it by post to whomever expresses interest. One shows the building from the inside, the other from the outside. Cost: $1. No tax.

This reminds me. I still owe some people postcards I promised to send. Sigh. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I’ll try to send them all off this week. What can I say, I’ve been a combination of busy and lazy. Welcome to the crazy life of a student, worker and blogger in America.

(In the photo: A group of students listening to the Kenyan Ambassador to the United States Mr. Elkanah Odembo on his visit to campus last week. I was there to impress him with my smattering of Swahili, his native language.)

In Bedlam

Sleepy eyed in a quiet town, with just a bed-time snore to brand the night for all it was worth. A giggle there, a whisper there. The night rests sombre along the shore of reminiscences. A closet of dreams and a nightstand of slivers and sheets rest beside. An empty plate with a fork looking up. A camera and a lamp long dead from a burnt out fuse. A cordless mouse. Two books and a jar of cream, and pens, and two name tags that point to a faraway place.

Cream-coloured paint on the wall, a dreamy clinic for wandering night eyes; the vent, smoke detectors and invisible sneaky bugs of a metal bush. Deodorants just twenty feet away beside a basket of goodies that now just cups the wisps of air from behind the curtain. Either that or loose coins that make their home into the cracks of its browning chest. Others are straws, and hangers, and toilet rolls strutting underneath the shade. A padlock here made of silver: Chicago-bought, and a white floor littered with shoes.

Then, a snore and a sigh: the city sleeps.

Mapping the Country

Living in the mid-west has its perks: you’re far enough from the oceans to live a relatively sane life, and close enough to equally pleasant points of interest to get a feel of outdoors once in a while. A few weeks ago, there was an exhibition of proposals on the renovation of the Gateway Arch and its surroundings. The city of St. Louis along with other donors decided to touch up the nation’s tallest monument and make it live up to its potential as a more viable tourist destination for the country and the world. The winners of the bid have been announced and will have up to 2015 to make the area around the Mississippi the mecca they promised.

I’ve been thinking about a few other places nearby: eagle watching at Alton at the confluence of the two great rivers, a long overdue visit to the Lemp Mansion (the continued mention of which keeps bringing hundreds of people to my blog since last year. What exactly is it with people and ghosts?), the Cathedral Basilica in St. Louis with its replica of Roman art and paintings, and the famous house of Mark Twain at Hannibal. I remember visiting the tomb of Abraham Lincoln in Springfield and thinking that the city was such a centre of history, and then wondering what I’m going to think when I visit Annapolis and all the spots on the coast where the first slave ships first docked. I’m such a nosy wanderer.

I’m looking for as many pointers as my readers can provide, whether far or near. How much more of this country can I see and learn from in the next couple of months. We are travellers, coming to a city near you.

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