Author: vikraml2016

The Great Airplane Charge

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I woke that morning feeling like I had little to no sleep, yet when I sneaked a glance at my clock I could see the one and zero’s staring me down. 10:00. Well that’s strange. My brain wished for an early morning but my body seemed to disagree. Slowly but surely, I lifted myself out of my bed, the wooden panels creaking with every movement. When my body reached a full 90 degrees I could smell the bitter aroma of coffee beans, and I could hear the voices of people. When I finally reached the door, it hit me: I was leaving for Hawaii. This one thought simultaneously jump-started my brain, like a cold, clear mass of water, careening towards my face. My brain moved into action, not long before my legs. They raced around the room, searching for all preparations. Suitcase? Check. Carry-on? Check. Tacky tourist clothing? Check. I was ready. Without a thought, I raced outside and greeted my parents with a childlike glee.

“Good Morning.”

My parents questioning and confused looks met my sheer delight. I opened my phone. Checked the date. Looked down, sulked back to bed, and fell into the soft embrace.

“Good Night.”

The next day I triple-checked the date with my phone, calendar, and annoyed older brother. The early morning drive into the airport parking passed without a hitch. When my muscles strained and shook to open the car door, I knew it was time. The harsh, bleak fog met with the bitter cold to create an atmosphere which attacked my lifeless body. If I squinted hard enough I could see Santa Claus waving at me with his big parka jacket and red mittens. Then I blinked again and it was my dad ushering me forward.

“Vamanos, we only have three and a half hours until the plane leaves.” He said with a serious face. It was at this point that my, and my family’s sanity came into question. I could see the security greeting me, the metal detector beeping, and the P.A. system yelling for people to board the plane. What idiot. Who Misses their flight? I checked the ticket and through the arcane writing I resolved that we were heading to gate A22. I observed the room, seeing all manners of people: unshaven faces, the smell of sweat as some ran towards their gate, and the early people, sipping their coffee in a quaint café. Though it was a full hour before our flight, we still rushed towards the gate in a swift yet collected manner. I sat down in the ocean blue seats and rested my head against the cool metal. Reaching towards my bag, I unwound my headphones and attached them to my phone. I took a while figuring out the airport Wi-Fi before giving up and heading towards my Netflix downloads. 30 minutes in, my stomach starts growling, like a tiger on the loose. I forgot that I haven’t eaten breakfast yet. Oh well, I don’t want to risk missing the flight so I stay seated. My mom, on the other hand, has a different idea. She leads me towards Tim Hortons with the promise that we will make it back in time. We stand in line as my fingertips tap my jeans as I stare at the clock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. We make it to the counter.

“Hello, how may I help you?”

“I’d like a double-toasted, blueberry bagel with herb and garlic cream cheese.”

“Is that all?” she said, pausing for a moment to check our faces. “That’ll be $2.50.”

We head back to the gate to eat but my mom decides to stay here and eat with me. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. I eat the first half of the bagel and check the time. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The loud customers speak all around me. Tick-tick. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The P.A. system murmurs something but it’s too loud. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Three-quarters in. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The P.A. system speaks with more urgency as my nerves hit their peak. I ravenously bit into my bagel. Tick-tock. I devour the last bits and throw the wrapper into the garbage. I check the time. Tick-to. We start running. Tick. I begin to make out frantic waving as the operator starts giving up. Ti-. We make it just in time and run into the plane. We are promptly lead to our seats as we avoid the angry gazes of other passengers. I reach my seat and rested my tired haunches against the soft backing of the chair. I stretched out my legs and thought, this is the last time I listen to my mom, from now on I listen to my own safety-blanket instincts. 

Reflection:

I think that I was able to tell a story well in the way that I did it and was able to expand on a simple story and tell it in a different way. And I was able to use suspense in a way that made sense in a narrative essay of this nature. The moral of the story came off as added in at the end instead of being the focus of the story

I think next time I should improve on using the rule of three’s, interweaving past-tense into a present tense piece and using inference and “show don’t tell” in a more clear and concise way. Instead of writing it the way I did, all in one go, I should’ve planned it more detailed way before I started writing so it would come off as more consistent.

Composition aux présent – Une journée typique du Maître

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Toujours au commencement de la journée je descends les escaliers silencieusement puisque je ne réveille pas Emma et quand j’entre la cuisine, grande surprise, mon café n’est pas là. « Matti! » Je crie, « Où est mon café? » J’ai tellement soif.  « C’est près de la micro-onde » Elle dit. Ah voilà. Je prends des grands gorgés et la fin du café vient trop tôt. Je vais aux chambres des esclaves pour les réveiller. « C’est le temps de vous réveiller! » J’hurle. « Bonjour Monsieur, J’ai hâte de travailler avec vous aujourd’hui. » dit George. Je donne les esclaves leur ordres pour la journée et puis je quitte la maison pour joindre les joueurs au casino. J’ai envie de commencer à jouer. Quand j’ai arrivé au casino le patron m’a salué. « Bonjour Monsieur, je suis vraiment content aujourd’hui, j’espère que je suis chanceux. » j’ai dit.  « Ahahaha! », le patron a ri. Quand c’était le temps de partir j’ai perdu de l’argent dans les centaines de dollars. J’entre la cuisine déjà furieuse. « Emma! » je crie, « Frances! » Je mords la viande très vite et c’était fini. « Je suis extraordinaire aux jeux mais aujourd’hui j’étais juste un peu mauvais, ce n’est pas grave, je vais tout gagner encore demain. » J’ai ne dit à personne en particulier. « Tu jouerais encore demain? » dit Frances, « Tu étais supposé de me l’aider avec entraîner des nouveaux esclaves. »

« On va voir. » Je dis, « Pour maintenant c’est le temps de s’endormir. Bonne nuit. »

“Tell Tale Heart” -alternate ending in new point of view

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The point of view I used is objective.

The police knocked on the door. A man answered the door fidgeting before reassuring himself. He greeted the police officers with glee. Unfortunately, he was the only one at home because his master was out in the country. The shriek which the police had responded to was but his own, waking from a nightmare. The police wandered the house, lead by the servant as he answered their questions about the home. They collected in the master bedroom and the servant set them up with chairs and he himself took a break. The police spoke together, chatting like old pals while the servant cheerfully answered their questions. But over time, the servant grew more and more uneasy, he used more hand signals and spoke louder and louder to the point of screaming. Eventually his tone hit it’s peak as he threw down the chair but, the police noticed nothing and continued chatting like old pals. The servant yelled at the top of his lungs and revealed that he, he was the killer and revealed the master’s dead body under the wooden planks on the floor.

How does one recover from hardship?

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(https://photos.travelblog.org/Photos/10392/125539/f/886137-Auschwitz-Birkenau-watch-tower-0.jpg)  Image link

 (https://www.travelblog.org/Photos/886137)

Website link

In the story “The Watch” by Elie Wiesel, the protagonist (ergo the author) was able to recover from extreme hardship, in this case the Holocaust, through a sentimental piece of his past and coming to terms with it. Following the prejudice against his family during the Second World War, Elie Wiesel lost everything, his family, house, and all his precious possessions. Yet despite all that, he returned to the remains of his past on a whim. For reconciliation, vergangenheitsbewältigung as a Jewish person and coming to terms with his past, Elie Wiesel says, “Could this thing, this object, be my gift, my pride?” (page 3) This watch, his former treasure and his precious chattel represents everything Elie was before the Holocaust. During the process of exhuming the watch Elie must come to terms with his new life, instead of chasing after his previous one. In this way “The Watch” teaches us how to recover from hardship via coming terms with your past and moving on. Although the protagonist faced discrimination and prejudice against everything he represents, when he steals the watch Elie realizes that he is no better than the people who stole everything from him, “I am overcome with violent remorse: I have just committed my first theft.” (page 4) This symbolizes him finally giving in and replacing the doubt that hounded him after the war with a feeling of resolution. In “The Watch”, Elie Wiesel teaches us that to recover from hardship one can create a new person from the ashes of prejudice, hate and grief by accepting sadness and moving on.

I did great on interpreting the book on a higher level than what was implied and organizing my paragraph in a thoughtful and concise manner.

Next time, I will improve by double-checking, further editing, and fixing typos in order to improve my mechanical issues and further relating my interpretations of the book with the question at hand in a way that feels less all over the place and more conclusive with evidence.

 

Matsuzushi is a Traditional Undertaking of the Oh-so-popular Japanese Cuisine 

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Food and You: Matsuzushi

(http://www.jnto.go.jp/restaurant-search/eng/detail.php?rst_code=n191500)

Matsuzushi is a warm substitute for the over-saturated, similar, and generally insincere sushi market in British Colombia. Matsuzushi is different, as its traditional nature, inherent intimacy, and snug sentiment captures the feeling of what a Japanese sushi restaurant should be. Not to underplay it’s astounding, fine-tuned menu, but Matsuzushi’s real charm is the atmosphere and service that brings people in year after year. Strolling under the restaurant banner, the passionate owners earnestly greet and welcome customers, whilst handing hot towels which establish a home-like atmosphere, hauling away the cold, bitter outside. Within seconds the waitress plops down a couple of menus at the small booth, creaking slightly with weight yet comforting and uplifting. Examining the quaint and charming restaurant there are constant reminders of Japanese heritage: a tall sakura tree surrounded by ancient Japanese paintings, copies of the greats like Katsushika Hokusai and Hasegawa Tohaku. The decor displays the sheer passion the owners have in sharing their culture with the world. The exquisite and refined rolls, perfected over generations have their own way of saying welcome like the perfect car, created just for you. Staring down the menu the price point is generally affordable and perfect for most occasions. The dishes seem to compliment themselves so that all of them pair with each other like the slimy fresh tuna belly mixing with the crunch of the crispy fried California rolls. Left up to the chef (Omakase) he will put on a display the likes of never seen anywhere else with a variety of fish, rolls, and udon which will create a combination unique to every visit but always amazing. Exploring the rich heritage of the restaurant as they move from place to place, Dad to son, but their ever-lasting cuisine still shines through. Matsuzushi draws people in with it’s quiet and cozy inside but leaves them coming back for it’s delicious sushi and when comparing them to anyone else, it’s hard to settle for second best.

First They Came For …

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Adapted from the poem by Martin Niemöller “First They Came for the Jews” in response to the poem “Danger of Silence”

First they came for the First Nations 

and I did not speak out 

because I was not a First nations. 

 

Then they came for the immigrants

and I did not speak out

because I was not an immigrant.

 

Then they came for the minorities

and I did not speak out 

because I was not a minority

 

Now when will they come for me

because I was too busy or too apathetic 

to defend my sisters and brothers?

 

 

 

How can resilience lead to survival?

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I think that resilience leads to survival when the discriminated race or gender not only stands up and shows that they are dissatisfied with their current circumstances but know when to stand down when under immense pressure. The most obvious and well-known case of this is the Holocaust. As seen in the book “The Cage” by Ruth Minsky Sender it shows that even when under pressure (as seen numerous times within the story) one must stand down and stand up for themselves in their own way. When Riva (the main character in “The Cage”) loses parts of her family, her mother and her house, she is forced to take care of the rest of her family. Unable to resist the Nazis, Riva and her family still find a way to stand up for her culture, creating a library underneath her home for strangers to learn and read. Instead of giving in to the Nazis’ calls Riva takes care of her own family all by herself before reaching adulthood.  Even after being deported to a concentration camp, she does her best to stay alive for her family. Never giving in, doing your own thing to stop discrimination, but most importantly staying true to your culture, and not bending to your overlords is this most important thing to lead to survival. Some other questions that can lead from the broader one is, How can one stay true to oneself in the face of discrimination? Should one stay true to oneself? What does it mean to survive when one has lost everything? Is it easier to survive when one has something to live for? I think that one should in fact stay true to oneself in the face of discrimination because why bother staying resilience if you give up all that you stand for, can you really accept survival then? It is definitely easier when one has connections, something to live for, one can sacrifice a lot when it is for their family or friends. In conclusion I think that the way that resilience should lead to survival is with respect to oneself and family/friends and standing up for what you believe in any way possible. To that extent do anything to survive that does not contradict or give up oneself for your family, friends, or anything you want to do in life. For that is resilience and that is what leads to survival.

What it means to be human

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Humans want to feel included

Humans persist in difficult situations

Humans need friends and family

Humans need hopes and dreams

Humans need to communicate

Humans need to understand others

Humans adapt to different environments (good and bad)

Humans seek new knowledge

Humans are greedy

Humans sometime strive to be a better society

Humans can cause conflict for power, race, nationalism

Humans can be racist and/or prejudice

The Book Animal Farm by George Orwell on top of having strong metaphors to the Russian Revolution, shows the greed that humans (pigs in this occasion) show in full. Despite having over-thrown their tyrannical overlords when the pigs took over (resembling a socialist society) the smartest animals felt better than the others and in the end they became the overlords they so hated. It shows how the socialist economy becomes fundamentally flawed once you put someone on top, in charge of the operation. Because eventually they feel like they are better than everyone else due to their reigning brilliance and they think less of their friends and fellow people (pigs) and eventually they treat them like dogs. Animal farm really shows using parallels that human greed and lust for power will always rise past the feeling of equality that we so want. They will think to themselves that the only people who want equality are the ones at the bottom. So not only showing parallels to the Russian Revolution but the white-dominated America not too long ago and South Africa pre-Mandela.