Stewing on Stew!

I am not one of those disturbed teenagers who can’t wait to “move out of their parents’ house.” In fact, I am in no hurry to take this step, and I enjoy threatening my parents that I will stay with them indefinitely. Perhaps this reminds them of the beloved yet frustrating Lavinia in “Washington Square”. Dear Lavinia was supposed to “make an asylum of [Dr. Sloper’s] house while she looked about for unfurnished lodgings.” In Henry James words, “It is uncertain whether Mrs. Penniman [Lavinia] ever instituted a search for unfurnished lodgings, but it is beyond dispute that she never found them” (Washington Square, pg. 69). If I remind my parents of this slightly disturbed woman then I am most dreadfully sorry. For the truth is that I do not intend to stay indefinitely, no matter how profuse my threats on the matter may be.

Nevertheless, I have determined my first course of action upon leaving my parents’ dwelling. Do not worry; it is not exactly a course you might expect from a normal person in the same situation. However, as I have said before, I have never professed to be a normal person. Normal is so very close to conformist, and I absolutely refuse to be a conformist! Excuse that digression, but I really felt it was necessary to clarify on the matter.

Now, upon exiting the home of my youth and setting up residence in my own abode, I declare that the first meaningful step I shall take is as follows: the abolition of stew! Indeed, I vow to strike stew from the recipe book forever!

You are no doubt asking, “Can stew possibly merit such a vehement admonition and declaration?” I respond to you with the utmost sincerity, it certainly does.

Stew is the epitome of abomination, yet it sneaks its way into your family with its perky scent and trendy little vegetables! My own mother, brilliant as she is, has been indoctrinated into this pseudo-taste cult from her adolescence. How much longer can we allow this atrocity to continue? The time has come for those victimized by this barbarism to stand up for true food! Far be it from me to be hastily judgmental, but we cannot allow the American populace to be propagandized into believing that stew is “comfort food” or a “meal that brings families back to the dinner table.”

This obsequious dirt is invading our homes daily, and it is our responsibility to wipe it from our tables. For the good of our children and our childrens’ children, I urge you to take heed of this warning!

And if I haven’t already convinced you, maybe this will . . .

With a platform as good as this, maybe I should run for president! I can see it now, “Vote Elisabeth Kent 2008—Hope for the Dinner Table!”

It’s a good thing I’m going back to school tomorrow because I obviously have WAY too much time on my hands! ;-)

Living "A Room With A View"

Headline 2: Living “A Room With A View”

After arriving in Istanbul on the infamous “Oriental Express”, we set out to find our hotel. From the beginning, we could tell that Istanbul was much rougher and less cultured in a European sense than Athens had been. While this did not distress us, we felt a certain sadness at leaving Athens, the fountain from which Western thought sprung forth. Istanbul had none of the same classiness, but it did radiate a vivid vibrancy, which was promising from the outset.

Enough with comparisons, however—On with the story! At long last we reached our hotel, but it was far too early to check in. The hotel, though, was more than accommodating! They stored our luggage and took us to their complimentary breakfast buffet. This is where we begin living “A Room With A View”. You will remember the classic beginning to that beloved novel. Lucy and her cousin arrive at the small, cozy, European hotel around dinnertime and are ushered into the dining room where their fellow hotel residents are eating dinner. The other residents set about examining them and whispering about them, etc.

Well, that is precisely what happened to us. Granted, we were quite a sight to behold by this point. We looked like drowned rats, who washed ashore and were then picked up by stray cats and thrown around. I personally have a long history with drowned rats as my professor at piano camp one summer told me I looked like a drowned rat after I got very wet in a fierce rainstorm. Anyway, we appeared to be an entire family of drowned rats. It was, no doubt, an unappetizing sight, and for that we were extraordinarily regretful. Nevertheless, our situation was not one reached through our own volition, so we could hardly be condemned in any just sense of the word.

With breakfast out of the way, we set out to see the city. The Grand Bazaar was interesting and fun, but its similarity to our very own Suiqs in Qatar took away part of the originality. After a while at the Bazaar, we returned to the hotel looking forward to finally taking a shower! Here is a picture of how we looked as drowned rats:


We checked into our hotel and our rooms gave a whole new meaning to the phrase “a room with a view”. They looked straight out onto the Hagia Sophia! Here’s a picture through my window:


A warm shower later, we thankfully looked once again like regular rats instead of drowned rats--that's a relief. We were ready to take on Istanbul. The Blue Mosque was only a block away from our hotel, so it seemed like an easy attempt for the afternoon. Of course, to enter the mosque we women had to wear our hejabs as you will see in the pictures, which are rather entertaining.





And, of course, we had to take off our shoes:



After the mosque, we set out to find a good restaurant for dinner. Now one thing I despised about Turkey was the incessant hounding as you walked down the street to come into the person’s restaurant. Everyone was yelling at you, “Come in! Very warm salon! Very Nice! Good for Lunch!” I HATE being badgered like this! My reaction to such persecution is always to absolutely refuse to go into their restaurant or shop. Nevertheless, it seems inevitable in these regions, so we eventually capitulated to the attack and entered a restaurant.

Everything seemed fairly normal at first, but such first impressions are generally false as they proved to be in this case. When our waiter came up, he looked at Abby and said, “Hello, my darling. I love you.” We were, of course, rather shocked by this strange behavior, but this was not the end. A moment after making this strange declaration to Abby, he started STROKING MY HAIR!!! I have NEVER been so horrified, and at that moment I secretly cursed my decision to return to blonde hair before the trip. I mean honestly, the frequent stares I receive in the Middle East due to the blonde hair have become routine and not so bothersome. This stroking, however, was not at all acceptable! My entire family giggled hysterically. He stopped stroking my locks, but followed that action by saying, “I have a very handsome brother. Are you interested?” Now, dear reader, please understand that in situations like this I am not a very friendly person. I glared back at him with my most startling evil eyes—very satisfying! Poor Emily with her infelicitous brunette locks received not even a smile from the overzealous inhabitant of our table space.

The conversation (and I don’t know why we were having a conversation instead of placing our order) turned to where we were from, and we mentioned our residence in Qatar. He then asked a few more questions and found out that I am learning Arabic. At this realization, he slit his little beady eyes, became quite offended, exclaimed, “They’re all terrorists!” and stomped off without even hearing my response that "I like the Arabs immensely". Good riddance! The offense was perhaps not unexpected considering he was a Kurd. In any case, he may have been a Kurd, but in our memories he will be forever enshrined as a turd!

We returned to our hotel and slept. Upon morning, we set out to see the classic Istanbul sight, the Hagia Sophia.

Historically, this magnificent edifice was more than satisfying with its mismatched Christian and Muslim occupancy. Its visage shone with magnanimity unmatched in most probably any other sight we have visited recently. Besides the sheer size of the enclosure, we were most impressed by the mosaic detailing!

Unfortunately, however, much of this mosaic was lost when the Muslims converted the building into a mosque. In the picture below, you can see part of the mosaic, but the plastering of the Muslims ruined the lower half.

In the following picture you can see the medallions put up by the Islamic group.

Pictures do not do justice to the immense beauty and in Emily’s words, the “absolutely incomprehensible” establishment. We were awestruck!

Following the Hagia Sophia, we visited the Topkapi Palace.

From there, we had excellent views of the Bosphorus, and I bored my family by unfolding the mythological story from which that mighty passageway receives its name. Since I already wearied them with this, I shall not do the same to you. Moving on . . .

The Harem was definitely a highlight, and we now like to refer to ourselves as Todd’s harem. :-)

From the Palace, we returned to the hotel briefly and then set out on what would be our most entertaining adventure yet. Coming soon in installment three of this saga . . .

Headline 3: The Kent Girls Bare ALL for the Baths!

Philosophizing with Socrates

Let's see, I left you as we were about to head for the airport. Let it suffice to say a lot has happened in between now and then.

My super-cool new backpack:


In the Doha Airport at 3:00AM! Woo-hoo!:


Abby's chillin':

We survived the flights, only because we flew Emirates to have Video-on-demand. Seriously, no other airway even comes close to matching Emirates high-quality service and entertainment options. (If this was an Emirates commercial, this is the part where the head dude would come on and say, "They're flying Emirates. Why don't you?"...

We got to Athens, searched out the apartment to drop off our stuff and then dashed out into the city for dinner. After dinner, we walked around our area.

Of course, one cannot stay in Athens without philosophizing:


Abby and I enjoyed pretending to be eskimos:


After getting some sleep, we started afresh this morning. Figuring out which direction to go can be difficult. Fortunately, however, we have several people looking at the map (and one guy in the backgroud doing something questinable??):


We finally arrived at the National Archaeological Museum:


We saw this amazing statue, which I remembered from my High School Humanities textbook:

So Dad says, "Do you know how we can tell these guys have been working out?" We reply, "How?" He giggles, "Because they have stone hard bodies...". Wow, Dad. That's all I can say, Wow.

Yay! I found Zeus's head!:


I said, "Mom, stand next to the head and I'll take your picture." Instead of just standing next to it, however, she started hugging it or something...the guard was like, "MADAM! STOP! DO NOT TOUCH THE STATUES!" Haha.:


Next, we headed to the Ancient Agora where Socrates would sit and philosophize. If Socrates philosophized there, we couldn't be left out... Here are a few of our shots in the Agora:



Emily found this interesting Corinthian column, which spawned the creation of her new theory on Greek columns, specificully columns of the Doric Order. Check out her interesting, if a bit specious, theory on her blog (emilykent.blogspot.com).


We then made the hike up to the Temple of Hephaestus, picured in the background of this shot:

While we were up at the Temple, my family basically tried to eliminate me from the picture. Emily and Mom dragged us into this wooded area, and I had a terrible allergy attack (I mean a serious attack here, people). They didn't even seem to care, but when I finally managed to lure them back out into the open ground, Emily "credit-carded" me right as I was on the edge of the cliff so I almost fell off. I think they were secretly trying to make me fall off while I was at my weakest as my eyes poured from the allergies...

Here are a few shots of us with the Acropolis in the background:



Finally, we diecided to grab dinner at a quaint, Greek taverna. I ordered a simple salad, nothing fancy. Soon after we ordered, they brought us a large salad, and Mom thought it was complimentary with our meals. My family quickly downed the entire salad. When our food came, however, there was no salad, and we realized they had eaten mine. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled. This picture shows us in from of the taverna with Emily and Abby grinning while I pout:


I think that's all the happenings so far. It's been amazing, and I've got to get to bed because tomorrow we're hitting the Acropolis!