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(04/25/06 3:54am)
As Bollywood music fills the air, curious passers-by are lured toward Eyebrows Style -- a new salon specializing in threading, a traditional Indian hair removal technique. The process involves holding a piece of thread in the mouth and twisting it to form coils to pull out a row of unwanted hair. This seemingly exotic Indian aesthetic practice was previously limited to the Little Indias of New York and Chicago but has now found a growing market in Midwestern towns like Bloomington. From the Aveda salon on Tenth and College to Eyebrows Style in College Mall, threading has become the fashionable new way to get that perfect eyebrow arch. \nJoyce Masih threaded eyebrows in Indianapolis and knew the tactic was a popular hair removal technique in large cities, so in January she opened up Eyebrows Style. \nEver since, the trend has quickly gained the support of college-aged women in Bloomington unhappy with the alternatives -- waxing and tweezing. \nMasih said most of her customers are IU students.\n"They love it," she said. \nChelsea Holder, a music business major from California, tried threading because she wasn't satisfied with waxing. Holder said the pain is definitely worth the gain. She said threading gives her eyebrows a more precise shape. In Los Angeles, threading is common and cheap, Holder said. But she didn't think the technique was available in Bloomington until she heard about Manisha Bahri at Les Champs Elysees Day Spa and Salon in Bloomington. Holder, a blonde-haired, tan California freshman, first learned about threading from her best friend, who's Persian. \n"She gets it done ... and her \neyebrows look great," Holder said.\nThreading is a simple aesthetic tactic that doesn't involve much more than a spool of thread and a skillful hand. \nMuch like any salon service, prices differ depending on the environment. Upscale new salons in New York City, such as Shobha Threading in Manhattan, charge $20 to thread eyebrows. The bare room next to LS Ayres in College Mall -- Eyebrows Style -- only charges $7. Les Champs Elysees Day Spa and Salon, the Aveda salon on College Avenue, charges $12. \nBoth Masih and Bahri learned to thread when they were young girls in India. Threading is the typical way to shape eyebrows in the Indian subcontinent. The idea of waxing the face, which is the common eyebrow shaping technique in American salons, was unheard of in India. \n"(Indians) don't have a concept of waxing eyebrows," Bahri said. \nFor years, eyebrow threading appealed solely to the Indian-American and Middle Eastern communities, with women like Bahri, who threads eyebrows at Les Champs-Elysees Aveda salon, working out of their homes. But recently, as the benefits of threading have become more popular through the advice of fashion columnists who experimented with the trend, eyebrow threaders have begun targeting a broader customer base and opening kiosks in suburban shopping malls. The sheer visibility of eyebrow threading has increased its popularity. From the CBS News "Early Show" to The Washington Post, threading has recently received extensive praise for its price and preciseness. \nWhen Bahri worked out of her home, her base of clients was primarily Indian, but as threading became more popular on the national scene, she began catering to a broader range of clients. In February 2006, she joined Les Champs Elysees. Threading gives the salon a unique edge. Its Web site lists the service at the top of its home page, claiming that threading is "more precise" than waxing. And even though Bahri will be leaving Bloomington at the end of this school year, Les Champs Elysees is looking to find a replacement. \nBahri contends that threading is the best technique for eyebrows. The only complaints customers seem to voice is about the pain. But, both Bahri and Masih said it's tolerable and worth the benefits. Waxing irritates the skin, and tweezing often leads to ingrown hairs, Bahri said. With threading, the amount of hair removed is all in the hands of the aesthetician, not a strip of a wax. \n"It's very, very precise," Bahri said. \nMasih said customers who grumbled about the pain went back to waxing but shortly thereafter returned to her because they weren't happy with the shape of their eyebrows. \n"(Threading) is popular because it gives you the good shape," Masih said. "When you have nice eyebrows, your face looks beautiful. Your eyes look more attractive."\nCustomers are recommended to rethread their eyebrows about once every two to three weeks, but because threading can easily capture individual hairs, customers can come in whenever they choose. \nEyebrows Style usually receives about 30 to 35 customers per weekday and an additional 20 per day on the weekend. Masih didn't offer any speculation about the trend's potential to expand but seemed convinced Eyebrows Style was here to stay.\n"My customers, they like it," Masih said.
(04/19/06 4:27am)
Watching the 2005 Little 500 inspired senior Wes Michaels. \nThe whole race was timed manually. And while Michaels said the timing system wasn't flawed, he thought it might be interesting to test a new technology system -- radio frequency identification tags.\nRFID technology is often used in the corporate community to track supply shipments. It's also increasingly used to time triathlons. The technology consists of a tag, a reader and an antenna that can provide detailed timing data. Michaels and some friends from the School of Informatics began questioning the possibility of using this new technology to track Little 500 racers. It seemed like the perfect Capstone project, a requirement for all students graduating from the School of Informatics.\nA group of friends held an ad hoc meeting after last year's race. All summer, the friends exchanged ideas. Two weeks into the school year, the School of Informatics approved the project -- iCycle. Seniors Sara Fluhr, Jonathan Feigle, William Woods, and two Little 500 riders Jordan Martz and Gary Shoulders joined the project. \nTogether they outlined a design in which the RFID tags, which look like one-by-three inch stickers, are placed on the middle of the rider's helmet. The antenna and tag reader are stationed on a pole sitting about five feet above riders' heads. Each loop the rider makes at Bill Armstrong stadium is recorded.\nLast semester, iCycle members approached the IU Student Foundation for approval -- no easy feat. Lucas Calhoun, Little 500 race coordinator, said the foundation "very rarely" approves new relationships with such student projects.\n"We're truly putting them through a rigorous approval process," Calhoun said.\nThe group has high hopes for the possibilities of RFID technology. Michaels said the RFID tags could prove useful for both spectators and riders in the future. Eventually, the technology could allow far-flung fans to track their favorite team via the Web. Riders could use the information to view their times on each lap, an indicator of individual endurance and therefore key information for teams' coaches.\nWith the current timing system, Michaels said it would take a substantial amount of manual work to obtain concrete data and statistics equivalent to RFID.\nCalhoun is also optimistic about the project. But his primary concern is that the tags control all the information, and they are on the individual rider's helmet so if a rider falls down, the reading will stop.\n"We can't have a lack of timing happen because of something like that," he said.\nFeigle insists that the tags can withstand substantial damage. To test the tags' durability, the team cut the tags in half, submerged them in water, stomped on them with a shoe and ran over them with a car. None of these experiments resulted in an unreadable tag, he said. \nSince this is the first year RFID technology will be used, Calhoun said the benefits are restricted. But, he said the project and technology carry tremendous potential. \n"This is something that could be developed over four to five years," he said.\nICycle members agree. But this year, project coordinators said they just hope the new technology works. \n"We're really exploring the boundaries," Shoulders said. \nThe project is limited to tracking five teams during this year's men's race. The IUSF has yet to decide which teams.
(10/05/05 4:47am)
Recently during dinner, I tried to explain the intricacies of "white trash" to a cosmopolitan, out-of-state friend. You see, she had never met "white trash." Thus, throughout the meal, she kept asking for more details, questioning my responses and second-guessing my descriptions. \nAs www.wikipedia.com explains, "In full historical context, the term (white trash) is difficult to define, and any definition must be considered with respect to the context in which the epithet was applied."\nI tried to give a rather politically correct answer to my friend's questions (if that's possible in a matter like this). "White trash," I explained to her, was not a matter of socioeconomic issues but rather a condition of the mind characterized by stupidity, ignorance and racism. \nDespite what I thought was a rather intelligent answer, she smugly shut me up with one final question: "Well, Asma, don't you think trash could come in any color? Who's to say there's only white trash in the world?"\nHmm ... a valid criticism, especially because my explanation didn't seem race-conscious.\nThus, once again, I turned to wikipedia.com.\n"It has been debated why there is no comparable term commonly used for other races, such as black trash or Latino trash. One suggestion is that it is a form of reverse racism," the online encyclopedia suggests. \nThe pervasiveness of white trash makes it extraordinarily difficult to define. From the Ewells in Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird" to "Roseanne," images of poor, uneducated, lower-class whites have filtered into the mainstream media and left a lasting imprint upon our national, racial psyche. To use and abuse the image of "white trash" has become almost acceptable. While other racial, ethnic or religious slurs are de facto forbidden from print and prohibited in impelling stereotypical descriptions, white trash is commonly and openly used as mockery by both whites and non-whites alike. \nThe discrepancy in labeling and usurping race has led some to deem our national psyche in need of surgery, or at least, a little therapy. How can we (as a society) openly mock the idea of white trash in movies, books, TV shows and common conversation but fret over using any other racial slur? Perhaps, we've acknowledged that white trash is not a racially demeaning word.\nWhile some may take pride in their "white trash" heritage, as Ernest Matthew Mickler has in writing his "White Trash Cooking" recipe book and subsequent "White Trash Cooking II: Recipes for Gatherin's," I tend to think people like Mickler are in the minority.\nWe've become selectively desensitized to issues of race, and consequently think that inserting the word "white" in front of trash is nothing more than a nominal vocabulary concern. \nBut I beg to disagree.\nShallow thinking is not a product of race or economics, nor is it a label to brand upon the underprivileged social classes. \nPerhaps, in the great spirit of American tradition, while trying to explain white trash, we should turn to political correctness. \nIf trash is to be defined as a matter of prejudice and insularity, then I must confess, I've met my share of rainbow trash.
(09/01/05 4:58am)
Oh my gosh. Like ... you know" \nNo, actually, I don't. \nAnd I'm not sure if anyone does. \nAs the product of a generation that grew up watching "Saved by the Bell," "The Simpsons" and MTV, I naturally have had a bit of difficulty clearly expressing myself from time to time.\nBut, as a member of the speech team in high school, I prided myself on my skill to speak concisely and effectively. And since I won various forensic awards throughout high school, I never deeply contemplated my ability to speak off the podium in regular impromptu, everyday conversation. \nHowever, a year in London quickly humbled me, squashing any speck of arrogance left over from high school. \nThen again, maybe it's relative. I never noticed this inability to clearly express myself before I spent a year amid posh, proper British folk at the London School of Economics. Discussing colonialism, nationalism and a variety of other intellectual "isms" I didn't even know existed, I realized the depth of my verbal communication incapacity. \nWide-eyed, I sat stupefied in class as a political science professor lectured about how to write an essay, carefully selecting the perfect words to convey his thoughts. He spoke in verbal analogies -- a foreign concept in itself. \n"Dude," I thought, "I have lost my articulateness -- if I ever had it to begin with."\nSince I didn't spend much time with fellow Americans during my year in London, I didn't initially realize the magnitude of this language crisis. It was only while waiting in line for the pay phone one night in my international dorm when I realized I was not the sole victim of inarticulateness. For half an hour, I impatiently waited, listening to a fellow college student describe her day to her mother. Yet I couldn't even eavesdrop properly because her conversation, complete with "likes," "ums," and "you knows," was incomprehensible to the normal person. I'm not sure how her mother even understood her. \nAfter a summer back in the United States, I began to understand how deeply this speech sickness has invaded our generation. I speak out of genuine distress about our futures. I don't convey these concerns as a sort of language snob. I'm no Henry Higgins from "My Fair Lady," attempting to transform an uncouth student into a duchess. \nHow will we communicate with coworkers, interview officials or conduct meetings unless we learn how to speak properly? Some may call it linguistic elitism, and maybe it is. But the ability to speak effectively is of crucial importance in every aspect of our lives. It's one of the sole determinants between living in the midst of mediocrity the rest of your life and having the power to be taken seriously in every step of your career from a college internship to a corporate executive. \nI suppose I shouldn't ceaselessly complain about this conundrum unless I can offer a sliver of a solution. Reading more -- whether it's The New York Times, your history book or The Economist -- should help. But reading comprehension isn't the root of the problem, so listening to a daily dose of National Public Radio or even taking two seconds to think before we speak might be more effective.\nRegardless, dudes and dudettes, don't stress too much about a solution. If all else fails, we can resort to carrying pocket thesauruses.
(04/21/04 4:35am)
Much like the professional international cricket circuit, the local Bloomington cricket league unites people of different nationalities. Every Saturday night the Bloomington SportsPlex's, located at 1700 West Bloomfield Road, soccer field converts into a cricket ground. \nIU's official cricket club began in 2000. Since then, 20-year-old president Alok Sanghi said the league has expanded into six teams and is now officially recognized by the University's recreational sports division. From 8 p.m to midnight every Saturday night, four teams play each other, leading to a tournament final. \n"People have fun, and that's what matters," Sanghi said. \nCricket typically consists of two teams each with 11 players. One person runs and bowls the ball, while a person from the opposing team bats. Sanghi compares the game to baseball, except players don't run around the field; they run between wickets. \nPlaying indoors puts limitations on the league, however. With shorter boundaries and smaller teams, the league uses a tennis ball taped with duct tape instead of the typically heavier cork-rubber ball.\n-- Asma Khalid
(04/21/04 4:34am)
On a Saturday night, batsmen and bowlers in Bloomington forget about the threat of nuclear weapons in their homeland. A medley of English, Hindi and Urdu floats through the bleachers as Pakistanis and Indians sit side by side. \nFor four hours, political rivalry takes a backseat to cricket.\nIU sophomore Alee Faruki's Bloomington cricket club team is a perfect blend of South Asian diversity with four Indians and four Pakistanis.\n"There is no difference or discrimination amongst us," Faruki said "… We're all just one team and most of all, good friends."\nFaruki expects analysts could make similar assumptions about the international cricket scene.\nFor the first time since 1989, the professional Indian cricket team traveled to Pakistan this past March for a six-week tour. The games sparked hopes of peace in the eyes of some politicians. \nCurrently, India -- a majority Hindu nation -- and Pakistan -- an official Islamic state -- both claim the mountainous region of Kashmir. But earlier this year, the two countries negotiated a cease fire. \nThe current cricket series portrays the potential power of sports to curb hostility and combat international tension. \nThis year, The Washington Post reported throughout the night, Hindus and Muslims, Indians and Pakistanis watched the live televised satellite matches together in America. The focus is on the match, not politics, the fans said. \nSumit Ganguly, chair of IU's India Studies Department, said he sees a marginal benefit in the matches.\n"It creates goodwill among certain communities both in India and in Pakistan," said Ganguly, who can remember sportscasts in which the Pakistan and Indian flags were shown billowing in the wind, side by side. "On occasion people had even stitched these flags together." \nBut Ganguly doubts the true significance of sports. For Ganguly, cricket matches will not lead to the establishment of any permanent peace.\n"All of this helps create an atmosphere of goodwill … but all this goodwill will only take us so far," he said. \nWhen the cricket matches end and the goodwill subsides, both countries need concrete negotiations, Ganguly said. \n"In and of themselves, (the games) can't accomplish much," he said. \nIn fact, Ganguly credits the inverse relationship. He said the current Pakistan-India cricket series is a reflection of the success of prior peace talks.\n"There are critical issues between these two countries that will have to be resolved ultimately by political means," he said.\nFor Ganguly, real peace needs to come from hard-nosed negotiations and compromises.\nBut history begs to differ with Ganguly. Establishing international peace through sports isn't limited to the Indian subcontinent. Last summer, American troops played soccer with Iraqi civilians as a symbolic goodwill gesture. And as legend has it, the Nixon peace talks with China stemmed from friendly ping-pong tournaments between the two countries. \nGanguly makes a clear distinction between the conflict in South Asia and its ripples in America.\n"There's some loyalties, but they're not about to import the battles of the subcontinent right to the campus of Indiana University in Bloomington," he said. "And even if they do, these will be moderated and tempered by the fact that they're in somebody else's country, and you don't engage in name calling and shouting."\nIn a college town free from peace talks and nuclear weapons treaties, Pakistanis and Indians may take the ease of their cricket club for granted. The Post cites that in America, Indians and Pakistanis tend to share culture and food rather than argue about territory. \nAt a cricket match earlier this month, a few blond-haired soccer players peered through the glass -- a stark contrast to the South Asians on the field. The usual 30-some crowd was gone Saturday night. Most, be they Muslim or Hindu, had gone to the Indian festival Holi show. \nThe league creates a sense of harmony amongst South Asians. Most teams, like Faruki's combine Pakistanis and Indians. \nBut there's still a sense of rivalry. In fact, the most intense international conflict of the Bloomington league surfaces when the all-Pakistani team plays the all-Indian team. \nAlok Sanghi, a senior and president of the cricket league, said the imitation Pakistan versus India match played amongst IU students is one of the most anticipated games of the season. Players don cricket jerseys from their homeland.\n"It gets very competitive on the field because it's more than just a game," Sanghi said. \nLast season, the Pakistani team won, but Sanghi and fellow Indians received revenge a few weeks ago in the form of a 156-66 blowout. And while the Pakistanis had to settle for fourth place, the Indian team captured first place in the tournament final last Saturday.\nSophomore Fahad Qayyum, a member of the Pakistani team, rationalized his team's loss, "Wininng and losing is all part of the game," he said with an air of nonchalance. \nQayyum claimed the loss "wasn't too bad."\nSophomore Gibran Mustafa, also a member of the Pakistani team, said most of the competition stems from the cheer and jeer of the crowd. \nIn Bloomington, a Pakistan-Indian rivalry shouldn't matter, Mustafa acknowledged, but somehow it always does.\n"Honestly, it does feel bad when you lose to the Indian team," he said a week after the team's loss. \n-- Contact assistant opinion editor Asma Khalid at amkhalid@indiana.edu.
(04/06/04 4:29am)
I timidly tiptoed into geometry class the day I started wearing a scarf at Crown Point High School. Much like my habit of twirling my hair, I nervously fiddled with the edges of the black cloth draped over my head as I walked through the halls of high school. My pseudo-confidence didn't lessen my anxiety of alienation. \nI liked the concept -- the idea that people would like me for who I was rather than how I looked. \nCall it what you like, my do-rag/turban isn't a political symbol. Sometimes, frankly, I even forget it's a religious symbol -- it's become a part of my individual identity.\nBut with a piece of cloth comes a sense of newfound responsibility -- maybe one I'm not fully capable of balancing. I don't profess to embody the thoughts of every Muslim woman. I don't pretend to understand the complexities of why an individual woman chooses to wear a scarf. And I certainly don't claim to serve as a spokeswoman for scarf-wearing women worldwide. \nWednesday the Muslim Student Union hosted a panel about hijab (the traditional scarf Muslim women wear). The event -- part of a week-long series for Islam Awareness Week -- tried to create dialogue about the most blatant feminine symbol of Islam around the world. \nThe women spoke about their varying experiences -- the lack of religious freedom to wear a scarf in Turkey, their increased moral awareness, the often overlooked internal stereotypes of being considered "ultra Muslim."\n"It's not really as simple as getting a piece of fabric and covering up your hair," one woman said. Hmm … really? \nWell, I'm thinking Europe might disagree.\nEarlier this year, France became the first European nation to ban head scarves. Belgium and Germany have shown interest in following the trend. In Germany, the hijab was banned in the southern state of Baden-Wuerttemberg as of April 1 (Chicago Tribune).\nEuropean governments insist the ban is necessary because the scarf had become "a symbol of fundamentalism and extremism" (The Times of London, Jan. 19).\nAnd while one correspondent declared, "Good grief … it's just a scarf!" Diana West of the Washington Times sees a few more wrinkles in the fold of the fabric. "Good grief, it's anything but," she wrote in a Jan. 23 op/ed piece. \nIn Saudi Arabia, women can't step outside the house without wearing a scarf. In France, women can't enter a public school wearing one. Basically, you're damned if you do … damned if you don't.\n Author and Islamic researcher Robert Spencer explained on his Web site, www.jihadwatch.org, "Instead of going after the root of the problem, (the French) are targeting minutiae … But does (the French government) really think that beardless, bareheaded Muslims will not try to institute an Islamic state?" Governments may continue to confine hijab to cosmetics, but a makeover won't change ideologies. \nI didn't tiptoe into high school with the intent to spark a revolution.\nWhile Europe works to implement an aesthetic homogenous society and abolish political/religious identities, I'd rather work on an authentic internal makeover. Hijab is not a political tool, readily usurped at the convenience of leaders. My scarf isn't a fashion fad or a political device. While Belgium argues about the legitimacy of a head scarf ban, I'll go take a shower. I'd like to wash the politicalness out of my hair.
(03/11/04 5:58am)
Books flood the shelves at the Lilly Library -- skinny ones, fat ones, old ones, new ones, red ones, green ones. Some tattered with worn pages, others protected from time, confined within book boxes. \nWith 400,000 books and seven million manuscripts, Lilly Library Director Breon Mitchell expects to run into a surprise every so often.\n"There's so many stories about the books," Mitchell said. "You could tell a story about each of them."\nAt the Lilly, visitors sink into the comforts of a fantasy library -- infinite book shelves with everything from Einstein's theory on relativity to the Founding Fathers' "Federalist Papers."\nA sort of movie star sighting for avid readers, the Library boasts works from Shakespeare to Faulkner and everyone in between. But only roughly .025 percent of books are ever on display at one time.\n"That's less than one-tenth of a percent," Mitchell said, trying to calculate the number in his head.\n"There's always going to be inevitably, not hundreds, but thousands of things that are not going to be available in exhibitions."\nThough most of the Lilly's treasures remain out of sight, on one of the seven floors of book shelves, visitors can ask for any book, and a librarian will bring it to them. They can leaf through the first Arabic Bible or "The Canterbury Tales" in the Library's reading room. \n"It's not that they're hidden away -- they're all available for use," Mitchell said.\nIn fact, half of the Library's books are catalogued online through IUCAT. And every week, a staff of less than 20 works to file more. Currently, the staff has catalogued 4,738 miniature books, each no larger than 2.5 inches. That leaves only 11,262 more to go.
(03/02/04 5:30am)
As the election season heats up, I've been bombarded with continuous criticism about my generation. Initially, I tried to ignore the barrage of media complaints, that "we're selfish, we don't vote, we don't care…" To a certain extent, perhaps I agred with the disapproving eye of older generations. Maybe there is something inherently wrong with us. Maybe we are lazy, apathetic, overgrown children.\nAs children of the 80s, we've never lived in intense political turmoil, but just because we don't express our political interests exactly as our parents or grandparents did, does not imply we lack complete interest. \nWe're trying to connect to a seemingly alien political system, but it's not easy.\nLuckily for the future of democracy, I found my raison d'être in belly dancing. \nOn the first day of Middle Eastern dance class, a boy's footsteps pounded on the gym's wooden floor as he passed through a gauntlet of curious gazes. \nThe only male in a class of 28 students, my classmate said he didn't think about the disproportional gender ratio when he registered for the course. \nThe class, commonly dubbed "belly dancing," attracts a predominantly female audience. But every semester, one or two men register for the class, perhaps unaware of the loosely-associated stigma. \nThough professional male belly dancing has faced criticism throughout the Middle East, Egyptian and Turkish men enjoy dancing at social gatherings.\nMy classmate, whose grandfather is Lebanese, enrolled in the course to discover more about his Middle Eastern heritage. Once he realized the course taught belly dancing, he wanted to drop it. \nThough his closest friends supported his choice, various acquaintances mocked his dancing decision. The guys next door thought he should have been hitting on every girl in class every day.\nNevertheless, my classmate continued coming to class. Every Monday and Wednesday afternoon, he strolled into HPER 169 wearing a t-shirt, shorts and black NIKE basketball shoes -- a stark contrast to the room full of women wearing hip wraps dangling with gold coins.\nThough he didn't think registering for a dance class would dissolve gender barriers, over time, he admits he found motivation in his new, unique "minority" position.\nFor years, women strove to gain equal opportunity in the athletic realm. \nNowadays, both genders continue to struggle against societal preconceptions rather than legal barriers. \nWho says belly dancing can't be political?\nPassion stems from the most unexpected sources -- a conversation with a professor, a chapter from "Arabian Nights," the lyrics of "Addictive" or the sheer fervor of other college students. \n A sleeping giant, our generation has finally met causes it sees worthy of battling. Perhaps others may find them foolish, but at least we are willing to boldly meet the challenges. \n Those who argue for a rational justification in the purpose of dissent have forgotten the innocence of youth -- the time in our lives when we don't need to hide behind images of political correctness and can boldly challenge accepted ideas because we hope to improve our country for future years.\n Hopefully, the belly dancing fervor of gender equality will translate into activism in all aspects of the political spectrum.\nCrazy as it seems, for now, shimmies are bumping apathy out the window.
(02/03/04 5:17am)
Aww, how's Osama?" I asked, leaning back into a comfy cushion in the living room. \nA hush fell over the room as everyone's eyes turned toward me in confusion. As an awkward silence filled the air, I realized I should have known.\nSome names are simply taboo. \nTo mention Osama's name simultaneously implies an evil intent to hearken terrorists, summon demons, dismantle civilization and regress to a turban-filled dynasty of fundamentalism and militant gun-toting, sand-skinned A-Rabs.\n"Oh, he's good, so cute," my roommate responded, referring to her eight-year-old brother. \nA sigh of relief and nervous laughter erupted.\nAah, my faux pas concealed by a merciful interjection. \nThough I escaped from this name blunder with few social repercussions, I faced a mind-boggling personal concern: what does a name really mean?\nA similar scene happened again in my house. I'd heard a lot about Omar Ghadaffi, but couldn't match the Libyan leader's name with a face.\n"Who is he?" I asked one evening.\n"He's my uncle," answered one of my roommates with an air of nonchalance.\nI tried to stifle my giggles, but they bubbled out uncontrollably.\nMy roommate's affiliation with terrorist names might seem absurd, coincidental or just random. \nBut long before Osama's name became a household terror alert, little boys in the Arab world cherished the name. In an attempt to put a face on the ambiguity of a "War against Terror," we've slandered the name and inadvertently a culture. We've forever quarantined certain names, forbidding them from assimilation and leading to tremors of trauma every time someone mentions them.\nA few weeks ago, a host at a Chicago restaurant asked me for my name. And I responded, with the traditional Arabic pronunciation knowing full-well he'd probably reply with "Asthma" or some other obnoxious pseudo-homonym. \nBut, instead, he looked at me with a quizzical smile. "Erma?" he asked. \nI stuttered in confusion. I could never have anticipated that one.\n"Um … sure," I responded with an uneasy smile.\nHow much easier would life be if I had some sort of "American" name?\nI've been toying with the possibility of creating fictional names when I eat out at restaurants. I could imagine the ease of reserving a table for two for "Jenny," "Liz" or better yet, "Lilly" -- I've always had a personal affection for flowery names.\nIn Germany, officials banned the name "Hitler" for fear it would ridicule children. In September 2002, when a Turkish family tried to name its baby Osama bin Laden, the government refused using a similar excuse.\nSixty-eight percent of respondents agreed with Germany, according to a CNN poll.\nBut some, like the National Council for the Social Studies, encourage discussion and promote acceptance.\nIn "My name is Osama," a short story copyrighted by the Council, students learn about name discrimination.\n"It must be tough having a first name like Osama," Mr. Allen says to a 13-year-old Iraqi immigrant boy. "With everything happening in the news, I mean. Osama, my grandfather's last name was not Allen. It was Alfirevich. He changed it to Allen to make it sound more English. More American. But sometimes I think about changing it back." Mr. Allen smiles. "Just to honor my grandfather."\nIn an attempt to simplify my name, segregate myself from my culture, I've underestimated the importance of names. Accustomed to using "Asma" as nothing more than an identifier, I've neglected the potential power of a name.\nAnd despite the temptation of telling people a fake name for the convenience of assimilation, I'd rather be "Asthma" than "Jenny" any day.
(01/14/04 5:57am)
After one year of communal bathrooms, cold showers and flip-flops, junior Tonya Vachirasomboon decided it was time to move out of Eigenmann Hall -- what she called the "noisy, dirty" dorm in the midst of renovation -- and into the apartment lifestyle offered at Willkie Quad.\nAcross the nation, universities are succumbing to student demands for more spacious dorms, according to the Associated Press. Willkie marks the beginning of the housing revolution on IU's campus. \nAnd though the University hasn't finalized any plans yet, IU is working on blueprints for a new residence hall full of apartment-style housing, said Pat Connor, the executive director of Residential Programs and Services.\nResearch shows a high level of student interest for on-campus, apartment-style dorms, Connor said. And he expects student demand to continue with the completion of the new dorm.\nConnor said while he can't link the trend for apartment-style dorms to any particular cause, he has a few explanations. \n"Most students entering college today have always had their own bedroom and possibly their own bathroom in their parents' home," he said. \nConnor said IU needs to improve housing accommodations to attract and retain students. \n"We need to have quality choices for students from their first year through their senior year and beyond on this campus," he said.\nThe convenience of a more private environment dictated Vachirasomboon's decision.\n"It's newer; it's cleaner," she said. "It has air conditioning, big windows… more space."\nVachirasomboon shares a full bathroom equipped with a shower, toilet and sink with only one other student. \nOn a typical residence hall floor, roughly 50 students share one or two community bathrooms, Connor said. The community bathroom usually has three to four shower stalls, three to four bathroom stalls and four to five sinks. \nNow, Vachirasomboon never has to carry a shower caddy. Her Willkie bathroom has space for shampoo and soap.\nVachirasomboon noticed that a lot of upperclassmen use Willkie as a backup plan in case their apartment arrangements fall through.\nRoughly 1,000 students apply to Willkie each year for the 760 available spots, Willkie Residence Manager Steve Akers said. \nBut according to IU rules, students must be 19 years or older to live in Willkie. The dorm doesn't have resident assistants or mandatory meal plans, explained Akers. Students over 21 can also drink in Willkie, he said.\n"Basically, we're considered an apartment, not a traditional dorm," Akers said.\nHe attributes Willkie-style dorms to an increasing student demand. \nA few years ago, students showed a desire to stray from traditional dining toward food court style meals, and universities complied. Akers said the housing situation is a similar attempt to meet student demands. \n"We have a lot of students who stay here one, two or three years," he said.\nWillkie caters to students who don't want that "freshman" experience every year. \nFor Vachirasomboon, one year was more than enough. She said she would never live in any other dorm on campus. \n"I'm spoiled," she said with a laugh.\nCollege students today want more privacy, Akers said. And dorms are willing to meet student demands, even if takes millions of dollars.\nThe new dorm at IU would cost roughly $42 to 45 million, Connor said. But according to the Associated Press, the cost of construction for universities has risen by roughly $68 per square foot within the last decade.\nThe blueprints and proposed sites for the new dorm will be presented to the board of trustees by the end of this semester. The site and completion date are yet to be determined.\n-- Contact assistant opinion editor Asma Khalid at amkhalid@indiana.edu.
(11/20/03 5:40am)
Junior Carrie Krack laughs when she thinks of describing her mother's job to a politically-correct society. \n"I always say she's a homemaker," Krack said. "I know it's kind of looked down upon."\nBy now, Krack knows to expect mixed reactions. \n"I honestly think that (raising children) is the most important job even though it doesn't pay," she said.\nAfter she graduates with a degree in secondary education, Krack says she hopes to follow her mother's example. She, too, wants to stay at home, despite receiving a degree from IU. Krack says she would rather start a family and stay home with her kids than work. Krack's stay-at-home plan isn't a long-term career, but she doesn't want her kids to consider day care their permanent home.\nWith a pair of tennis shoes tucked under her, Krack might not symbolize June Cleaver. But between chugs on her water bottle, Krack explains her vision of a modern, stay-at-home mom, much different than Cleaver's role in "Leave it to Beaver."\n"A lot of women feel they can have part-time jobs and stay at home," Krack said, acknowledging the success of door-to-door Mary Kay cosmetics. \nWhile the number of full-time women workers has decreased, the number of part-time workers has increased, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.\nHer hair tied up in a wispy ponytail after a Friday morning jog, Krack talks about society's evolving perception of women.\n"It seems like it always comes back to that idea of money," Krack said. "Am I going to be able to (stay home) financially?"\nThough she can't begin to explain why, Krack said she's noticed a shift in society's perception of stay-at-home moms.\nWithin less than a decade, the number of children raised by stay-at-home moms has increased by 13 percent, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. Ivy League-educated women are rebelling against the work force. Highly qualified women are rejecting fame and fortune for the comforts of family life. They're choosing kids instead of career. \nFifty years after women swarmed the work force, they're going back home, leaving experts to question if the feminist fad is out of fashion. Social scientists are trying to discover if the increasing number of stay-at-home moms is a retroactive revolution or some sort of new-age feminist movement.\nA women's world\nSome, like New York Times Magazine reporter Lisa Belkin, are trying to offer their own explanations. In Belkin's "The Opt-Out Revolution," she explains the decision to stay at home as more than a flippant desire to leave the work force. \n"Why don't women run the world?" she asked. "Maybe it's because they don't want to."\nWhile three out of every five women are working, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, more educated women who have the freedom to stay home are avoiding the work force. \nFeminists from the 1970s might have expected women to soar to positions of power with the destruction of legal barriers, but they haven't. \nBelkin traces the story of Ivy League graduates. In Stanford's class of '81, 25 percent of women stayed home for at least three years. \nHarvard's Business School reported less successful statistics. A survey of 1981, 1985 and 1991 graduates showed 38 percent as full-time employees.
(10/01/03 5:46am)
In a diversity-friendly college environment, sushi and saris have replaced any genuine debate. But last Thursday, even the intense smell of Thai pad noodles failed to entice more than 15 students to a diversity education program to teach people about Asian clothing.\nLike IU, colleges nationwide have instituted diversity education programs to cultivate cultural appreciation.\nAmid discussion regarding the success of diversity education programs, people apparently have yet to consider whether universities can realistically teach diversity. Ambiguous claims rather than concrete answers provide fodder for future programs in which clothing demonstrations have become synonymous with global understanding.\nTEACHING EXPERIENCE\nIn every dorm on campus lives a CommUnity Educator -- a person responsible for teaching the seemingly impossible.\nSophomore Christina Dunbar, McNutt's CUE, co-sponsored Thursday's program.\nDespite criticism regarding diversity education, Dunbar said she thinks diversity is teachable.\nShe used herself as a case in point. Last year, Dunbar participated in "Conversations on Race." The education Dunbar received from the program increased her understanding of the importance of diversity.\nShe wanted to be a part of the process. She, too, wanted to promote harmony. Dunbar optimistically said she's never encountered any cases in which she has thought it impossible to teach people about diversity.\n"Everybody's not going to get it at the same time," Dunbar said, explaining the obstinate behavior of some people.\nBut Dunbar kees trying. She works to sift through opinions and find actual information. \n"We're educators. We have to come up with facts," Dunbar said.\nSTUDENT-TEACHER EVALUATION\nDespite an emphasis on facts, opinion dictates much of the CUE program. Ruminations and reflections indicate the program's success. \nFreshman Neil Shah, a child of Indian and Filipino parents, said he wouldn't attend diversity education programs.\n"I've been to other countries," Shah said, sporting a French Connection United Kingdom T-shirt. "I consider myself diverse."\nLiving in Eigenmann, Shah said he didn't know the dorms had CUEs.\nHe hesitated when trying to explain whether or not diversity education could benefit students.\n"It'll help those who show up, but you can't force it upon someone," Shah said.\nIn order to fully comprehend diversity, Shah said students should dive into hands-on projects.\n"I don't think you can teach it. You can experience it," he said. "It's hard to teach things in theory."\nRegardless of his skepticism, Shah commends the CUEs' efforts.\n"It couldn't hurt," he said. "It could help teach people."\nWhile students from different cultural backgrounds doubt the efficiency of diversity programs, many white students advocate diversity education.\nSophomore Casey Brown, a product of diversity education, showed support for the CUE program. \n"There's probably going to be underlying, negative thoughts, but if you work on it hard enough, it can be changed," Brown said.\nIn high school, he taught elementary school children about cultural diversity and the importance of judging people for their character rather than their color.\n"Right now, I think we're still young enough and malleable enough to try and learn new things," Brown said.\nDespite his enthusiasm, Brown hasn't attended any diversity programs in his two years at IU. \nREPORT CARD ON DIVERSITY EVALUATION\nFor Barry Magee, assistant director of diversity education at RPS, diversity is a never ending -- a lifetime education.\n"How do we define teach?" he asked. "Can I or anybody else have a class, a lecture, a program…and force you to regurgitate it? To me that's not really teaching about anything."\nInstead Magee encourages analogies. He compares diversity education to a smorgasbord of food. \n"You pique interest in certain areas, and they're willing to try it," he said.\nEven after nine years at RPS, Magee said he doesn't know everything about diversity. \n"I still learn something at almost every program I go to," he said.\nCUEs use a mix of passive and active programs to cater to students' needs. Nearly every day of the week, CUEs in one or more of the dorms host a diversity event. Programs range from dance workshops to food fests.\n"It's impossible for us to know what we don't know," Magee said. "It's only when we're confronted with the unknown that we really begin to learn."\nDespite its 14-year history, the CUE program's success is difficult to analyze, Magee said.\nThough Magee admits he can't force-feed someone diversity, he has a suggestion for improving the current curriculum.\n"It shouldn't just be limited to my job," he said.\nIn order to stimulate a truly diverse atmosphere, all aspects of the University must help foster a comfortable environment for minority students.\nINNOVATIVE INSTRUCTION\nIU President Adam Herbert's ideas reflect Magee's plans. \n"I'm not sure you can teach (diversity) to students," Herbert said. "You can foster a climate of understanding."\nHerbert said the cultural knowledge he gained as a student at the University of Southern California differed greatly from his experiences in a small Oklahoma town during segregation. But the accumulation of diverse ideologies made him more sensitive.\nRobert Shireman, former director of the higher-education program at the James Irvine Foundation, also emphasized the importance of diversity encompassing a university rather than limiting itself to isolated programs.\n"It is not enough to report that 30 new multicultural courses have been created or improved, and that minority students at a campus are happy with the curriculum," Shireman wrote in "10 Questions College Officials Should Ask About Diversity," an article that appeared in an August edition of The Chronicle of Higher Education.\nMinority students don't always feel a part of the campus, Shireman said. Instead they feel like a guest on an extended visit; the University's always striving to make them feel "welcome." \n"In too many cases, the work that we have all done to deal with the issue of diversity has been much too shallow. Ethnic theme parties, films and guest speakers can be important symbols, but they are a small part of what influences the campus climate," Shireman wrote.\nSenior Christina Lim, the Eigenmann CUE and Shah's diversity leader, said she's often heard people scoff at the idea of teaching diversity.\nForcing people to understand diversity won't always prove beneficial, Lim said.\nFor Lim, the success of diversity education depends on the programs.\n"A discussion rather than a debate is really good," Lim said.\nLim encourages more programs in which students can actually participate ( programsin which students can talk with others and learn) not just blindly watch cultural demonstration. "I can't really teach someone," Lim said. "It's really hard for me to change their opinions in one sitting."\n-- Contact Features editor Asma Khalid at amkhalid@indiana.edu.
(09/10/03 6:18am)
After completing 340 college credits, two majors and a minor, Erin Earl found time to celebrate her 19th birthday last week.\nEarl, who began her masters in piano performance this year at IU's School of Music, has also somehow managed to maintain a two-year relationship with her boyfriend.\nSomewhere in the midst of playing piano melodies and solving calculus derivatives, Earl has discovered a seemingly infallible personal work ethic.\n"It's not really as hard as you probably think it is," Earl said with a laugh.\nIn addition to maintaining a GPA of about 3.8., Earl volunteered for a newspaper that focuses on Seattle's homeless population and rowed with the crew club.\nEarl, one of 16 students chosen to begin college after junior high school as part of the University of Washington's early entrance program, enrolled in her first college class at 13. She graduated last spring with a triple degree in applied music (in piano performance), music theory and computer science.\nAs a part of the process, all of the early entrance students went through one year of transition school. \nInstead of plunging into advanced high school content, students focused on learning college skills. In fact, Earl thought the one year of intermediate schooling placed her at a slight advantage in college.\n"Transition school is so hard, college seemed easy in comparison," Earl said.\nAfter Earl finished the transition school year, she evolved into a "normal" college student.\n"I didn't have that much of a problem," Earl said.\nOver time, she made friends with people despite the age difference. Though she was well under the legal drinking age and couldn't go out to bars, she managed to enjoy herself in other ways, often going out to lunch with friends.\nEarl's boyfriend Alan Worsley, a first-year graduate school student, went through the same program. \nThough the two didn't take similar classes, they managed to spend nearly 30 hours a week together, Worsley said.\nHe credits the success of their relationship, in part, to the fact that the couple went through the early entrance program together.\n"Life's easier dating within the program," Worsley said.\nMost "eepers" (a nickname used in the early entrance program) don't brag about their achievements, Worsley said.\nStill, Earl seems to have impressed many of her professors.\nBela Siki, a piano professor at the University of Washington who worked with Earl for three years, said she "has a great talent."\nSiki spent an hour a week with Earl, and 60 minutes was more than enough time for him to detect Earl's musical talent.\nAfter 28 years at the University of Washington, Siki said he's seen many young talented students excel because of the early entrance program.\nDespite her modesty, Earl admits skipping high school and beginning college at 13 took a lot of work. She took 20 to 21 credit hours each semester, but said she did have time for other activities.\n"I found that if I took a lot of credits, I had more free time," she said\nBesides the irony of Earl's college work ethic, it worked.\nDespite her academic success, Earl admits she's not superwoman. She might be able to program a computer, but she can't bowl a strike.\nHaving developed an intrinsic "eeper" sense of modesty, Earl said she doesn't think of herself as out of the ordinary. From her perspective, a 19-year-old graduate student is about as normal as a 14-year-old college student.\n-- Contact features editor Asma Khalid at amkhalid@indiana.edu.
(09/03/03 4:51am)
While some may admire President Adam W. Herbert's charisma, and others may respect his intelligence, I dare to venture outside the realm of reason. \nIn fact, sometimes, when evaluating the success of a person, we should abandon all insubstantial cries for common sense and turn to irrational emotion. \nNow, since IU is not a living person, let's give it life. If IU had a heart, it would be basketball. Nothing else draws more emotion from students, professors and alumni.\nEnough of the diversity debate. We don't need a racially diverse president. Amidst the squabble of political correctness, we've lost sight of the real goal: a president who knows IU basketball. \nWe're tired of stiff men in stiff suits. We want a president who can serve as the brain and soul of the university.\nSo, though Herbert, much like the infamous Herman B Wells, may chat with the plebeians and dine with the patricians, he cannot properly lead IU unless his presidential finesse transfers onto the court.\nSince IU's first official game in the winter of 1901, the sport has grown, as has the university's affiliation with the game. Few, if any colleges, can boast of a broad national fan base comparable to IU. \n"From its humble beginnings around the turn of the century, Indiana basketball has grown into a phenomenon rarely seen on any college campus, or in any state of the nation," Pete DiPrimio and Rick Notter write in the "Hoosier Handbook: Stories, Stats and Stuff about IU Basketball."\nThough Herbert may have social skills, intellectual prestige and academic experience, we cannot overlook the necessity of having a president who knows the difference between a forward and a guard -- a man who knows "basketball was invented in Massachusetts, but perfected in Indiana."\nIn the beginning, IU struggled for a single basketball victory. In fact, the team lacked a coach and fans, according to the Handbook. But throughout the last 100 years, the game has developed into an obsession. \nIf the Board of Trustees has hired a person inexperienced with Hoosier hysteria, it might jeopardize the future of IU ball. \nLuckily, Herbert's got game. With his height, he could easily play center.\nAnd the trustees recognized his potential. They looked beyond Herbert's respectful resume. \nIn Florida, Herbert held season tickets to the Miami Heat, and claims he only missed two of the team's 41 home games. \n"I don't intend to miss any (of IU's games)" Herbert said in a press conference this summer. \nWe riot when a coach leaves. We riot when we win a game. As bizarre as it seems, every central emotion revolves around basketball. And Herbert knows our bipolar hoops tendencies.\nHe's a basketball fan, enough said.\nWe can rest assured for this year's athletic season, knowing we're in good hands. \nThough he cherishes athletics, Herbert, as any president, puts academics at the top. \n"We are first and foremost an institution of higher learning," Herbert said this summer.\nHerbert's athletic prowess and natural love of the game makes him the right spiritual leader for IU basketball. He knows basketball. Maybe he's almost too good. After all, we don't want him running off to become the next president of the NCAA.
(08/27/03 6:10am)
As a child of the '80s, I can't remember living in political turmoil long enough to skip my favorite episode of "Saved by the Bell." \nIn an attempt to connect to a seemingly alien political system, I decided to do something. \nI sought earth-shattering political movements -- not out of an innate sense of rebellion, but rather an innocent desire to better the world.\nDespite the ease of confronting Goliath-size battles, the minor, daily struggles of my life remained. \nLuckily, for the future of democracy, I found my raison d'être in Pakistan. \nIn a world of uncertainty, I have always secretly craved concrete conclusions. But after a summer spent in the motherland, I'm beginning to question if such a reality exists. Perhaps in our quest for clarity, we've prematurely refuted the possibility of living in an ambiguous world. \nIt seems we willingly recognize cultural beauty differences and cherish relativity even in science. But we squawk at using that standard of judgment in other aspects of our lives. \nAfter three weeks in the summer sun, I returned from Pakistan with the same shade of brown skin. My lack of a tan surprised many friends. But because the Eastern ideal of beauty is a fair-skinned, semi-plump girl, I refused to become any darker than my natural skin color. In a world of relative beauty, I convinced myself my sunscreen addiction was not conformity, but rather a survival skill. I didn't want to become the victim of gossip among relatives. \nAround the world, we carry varying ideals of beauty, almost always revolving around the central idea of chasing what we lack. \nWhile Americans flock to the light, ironically, Pakistanis shy away from it. In the Indian sub-continent, facial bleaching creams act as a substitute for tanning products. \nCultural differences make it impossible to imagine an international standard of beauty. Diverse concepts of beauty thrive in a politically correct society. But diverse ideologies don't.\nAs an American, I'm programmed to think Osama bin Laden is a bad man. But educated elite in Pakistan legitimately argued the FBI's most-wanted man is not much worse than President Bush. \nSome might say relativity is nothing more than a product of political correctness and not necessary when judging criminals. I agreed with them until three weeks ago.\nThe Associated Press reported that Pakistan's cosmopolitan city Lahore had fallen victim to recent fundamentalist pressures. Taliban supporters had thrown paint on billboards with pictures of women. \nThinking the city where half of my relatives live had turned into a fundamentalist feeding ground, embarrassment overtook me.\nA cousin in Pakistan explained it best. \n"You think we're backward," he said. \nAnd maybe I did, from an American perspective.\nFacing pressure from the East and the West, the Pakistani public is annoyed with Taliban supporters but equally irritated with its president/dictator's willingness to accept President Bush's demands. \nPerhaps traces of fundamentalism had swept the country and sprinkled a few black dots of paint on billboards, but some pictures remained untouched.\nThe AP also reported a Pakistani college's decision to ban "Gulliver's Travels" and "The Rape of the Lock." \nBut a few blocks away, copies of Vogue and Marie Claire line the shelves of a Pakistani bookshop.\nLike a kaleidoscope, every time you turn it, the picture changes. \nWe live in a world of extremes without moral absolutisms. We know this. Yet we don't acknowledge it. Sometimes, we secretly desire the world to fit into an algebraic formula.\nBut a trip to the motherland, even with all its "backward" inconveniences, brings life into an unalgebraic perspective.
(05/05/03 5:27am)
When boredom struck Esra Erdogan, daughter of the prime minister of Turkey and a soon to be IU graduate, she escaped the doldrums of daily life at her Islamic high school in Istanbul by coordinating protests with her friends. \n"Whenever there was a protest, the teachers would blame her," Erdogan's younger sister Sumeyye, a freshman, said smiling. "She's just like my father (Tayyip) … the way she acts, appears, the way she uses her hands, even her personal characteristics."\nDespite Erdogan's expertise in instigating protests, she didn't organize the national rallies held throughout Turkey in 1998.\nA potential politician, Erdogan hopes to offer a more concrete sense of Turkey's role in the constantly shifting international kaleidoscope, she said. As the war on terror rages through the world, Turkey's responsibilities in the affairs of democratizing the Middle East have become more critical, as witnessed when Tayyip's visit with President Bush last fall made front-page news in The New York Times. \nDespite personal, regional and global struggles, Erdogan, a sociology and history major, has remained focused, allowing her optimism to overshadow political setbacks. Graduating from IU in three years, 19-year-old Erdogan has decided to further her education by attending one of the nation's top sociology programs at the University of California Berkeley.\nWhile in school in Turkey, Erdogan wore a hijab (the Islamic head scarf) to school for five years. \nRumors of a head scarf ban floated throughout the school, but students scoffed at the possibility. \n"What people wear doesn't mean much for that person's political background," Erdogan said, shifting her weight.
(04/30/03 5:38am)
Senior Yoga Prakasa hasn't been home since the summer before Sept. 11. For Prakasa, home is Jakarta, Indonesia, a 20-hour flight through a series of immigration checkpoints and tedious interviews.\nAfter listening to his mother's recent horror stories about Indonesian students denied re-entry into the U.S., Prakasa has decided to stay in Bloomington again this summer. \nHis family is concerned -- they haven't seen him in two years. But they'll have to wait. With one more year before he graduates, Prakasa said he's not willing to take the risk of leaving the country. \n"(My parents) are torn between encouraging me to stay and encouraging me to come home," Prakasa said. "I don't have anything to hide, but there's always a risk."\nMany other international students are also voicing concerns about the increasing border security and its effects on international travel. But almost two years after Sept. 11, home-sickness has begun to overrule the concern of being denied re-entry into the U.S. \nJunior Dina Abdel Rehim canceled her plans to go back to the United Arab Emirates during spring break out of fear that war with Iraq would begin. \n"I'm actually glad I didn't go back because that's the time the war broke out," she said. \nDuring the first Gulf War, air travel out of the United Arab Emirates stopped, and Abdel Rehim said she feared the same would happen again.\n"It didn't happen this time, but you never want to take the risk," she said. "I didn't want to get stuck there because I had exams right after break." \nBut she's not canceling her plans for this summer. After missing out on her chance to go home earlier this semester, Abdel Raheem is looking forward to visiting Dubai and Egypt. \nBesides random questioning, she said re-entering the U.S. usually doesn't pose too much of a hassle. \nGonzalo Isidro-Bruno, the Leo R. Dowling International Center director, said most students don't seem concerned with the fear of re-entering the country.\nIf students have the proper paperwork and a valid visa, Isidro said they should not have any problems.\nAamir Mian, president of the Pakistani Student Association, only has to finish one more semester before he graduates. \nMian said many juniors and seniors are concerned because if they go home and can't come back to the U.S., they will have wasted a lot of money on their education.\nMian said if he could, he would save the hassle and finish school this summer, but he still needs to complete 12 more credit hours. \nImmediately after Sept. 11, the Office of International Services sent out memos to international students encouraging them to refrain from nonessential travel.\nRather than succumbing to the numerous restraints, many international students are willing to take the risks and visit their families.\n"We're used to (the restrictions) now," Mian said. "It's been almost two years since Sept. 11"
(04/21/03 5:40am)
IU's international programs received global recognition in a report released Wednesday.\nThe National Association of Foreign Student Affairs chose IU as one of six universities to profile for outstanding "campus internationalization."\nNAFSA chose IU from among 117 nominees after exploring all facets of IU's internationalism, including overseas studies programs, international students and international programs. \nThe organization plans on sharing the 21-page profile of IU with its 8,000 educators as a model international institute.\nThe report praises IU's East European languages program, coordination between the international programs and the College of Arts and Sciences and the study abroad program.\nThough NAFSA's recognition brings esteem to the University, Chris Viers, associate dean for international programs and director of the Office of International Services at IU, said the international acknowledgment doesn't surprise him. He knew the strength of IU's international programs before sending in the nomination.\nAt IU the overall internationalism has become woven within the University's fabric, Viers said. At other universities, there are large numbers of international students but not a focus on internationalizing the school, he added.\nViers has worked with international programs for 17 years.\n"It was really the rich history of the programs and overall internationalization that attracted me to the institution (IU)," Viers, who submitted the NAFSA nomination on behalf of the University, said.\nThe report credits former IU president Herman B Wells for the current international environment on campus and says current dean of international programs Patrick O'Meara is an "avatar" of internationalism. \nAccording to the report, the University has striven to create an international atmosphere in the midst of southern Indiana cornfields. \n"The campus of Indiana is not just in Bloomington, or even the state of Indiana; it encompasses the four corners of the world," Wells often said. \nIn 1958, IU began an area studies program with Russian and the East European Institute. Today, IU offers over 10 different area studies centers. The U.S. Department of Education has named five of them national resource centers. \nIU also offers over 40 languages, varying from Arabic to Zulu.\nKathleen Sideli, the associate director of the Office of Overseas Studies, said NAFSA's report is further affirmation of the solid reputation IU has around the world as far as the breadth of its international programs.\nEvery year, IU hosts over 4,000 international students while sending about 1,500 of its own students abroad. \n"Internationalism permeates IU in multiple levels, not just traditional study abroad programs and international students," Sideli said.\nAfter Sept. 11, some of the government's procedures made it more difficult for people to study overseas, Viers said. IU refused to allow policies to hinder its global tradition. Dedication from the highest levels of the University and the efforts of a devoted staff allowed IU to maintain its international commitment in the post-Sept. 11 world, he said. \n"I think our biggest challenge today is to advocate its (internationalism's) importance during a time in which world events cause some to move forward cautiously," Viers said. \nLast year, the American Council on Education recognized IU for similar international efforts, focusing more on the University's curriculum. \nDespite the continuous praise, some, like Sideli, see the need for improvement in IU's international programs. \n"There is strong support on this campus to increase opportunities for students to go abroad," she said. "But there needs to be more resources, more scholarships, more programs, more staffing, in order to give more students access."\nThis summer IU's international tradition continues. It will offer Pashto, a language spoken in northern Pakistan and parts of Afghanistan. No American university has ever taught Pashto.
(04/18/03 5:34am)
Junior Philipp Bonkat, born and raised in Zambia to German parents, said baseball typifies the United States' narrow-mindedness.\n"They play baseball amidst themselves and call it a WORLD series," he said chuckling.\nAfrica is home to more than 50 countries, but most people don't know where Zambia is, Bonkat said.\n"I can tell them (Americans) Zambia is in Asia, South America or Australia, and they'll believe me," he said.\nOnce people discover Zambia is in Africa, they'll proceed to ask Bonkat, a fair-skinned economics major with light brown hair, why he's not black.\nThough Americans may appear egotistical and naive, Bonkat said, people in Zambia are always impressed when he tells them he's studying in America.\n"The world needs America more than America needs the world (economically)," Bonkat said.\nIn recent weeks, America has dealt with countless accusations of egocentrism. Newsweek investigated "Why America scares the world?" \nDespite crash courses in Mideast Geography 101, Americans in the post-Sept. 11 world remain relatively clueless compared to Europe and parts of Asia.\nAmericans took second to last place in a 2002 National Geographic Society survey. They averaged a slim 23 out of 56 questions.\nFifteen years ago, 20 percent of young Americans couldn't find the United States on a blank map, according to a similar survey by NGS.\nFortunately, Americans have found a compass to point them in the right direction.\nAs of 2002, the statistic dropped to 10 percent.\nNationally and locally, people are working toward greater global understanding.\nThe Association of American Geographers and the National Geographic Society have established national geography standards in an effort to give k-12 students a larger dose of global culture.\nThe IU International Resource Center has created "Indiana in the World," a curriculum guide focusing on Indiana's global, cultural and political role.\n"I don't think you can paint Indiana with one color," IUIRC Director Shawn Reynolds said. "Fort Wayne has the largest Burmese refugee population outside of Burma."\nExperts say the face of Indiana is transforming. \nThe state is home to over 300 foreign-owned companies.\n"You could be going to work, and your co-worker may not speak English," Reynolds said.\n"This isn't something esoteric, we're already global," Reynolds said. "We don't have the luxury of shutting ourselves off from the rest of the world."\nSince almost everybody speaks English and knows where the United States is located on a map, some Americans don't see a need to know other languages and countries.\nReynolds disagrees. Despite English's pervasiveness, he said knowing a second language helps break down the cultural baggage people carry and allows them to communicate more effectively. \n"Learning a second language makes you more sensitive to cultural differences," he said. \nEven with the familiarity in speaking English, geography department chair Dan Knudsen said foreigners may carry different fundamental beliefs. \n"It's awfully presumptuous of us to think that everyone thinks the same way we do," Knudsen said.\nThe United States needs to grasp a more concrete sense of international geography in order to survive in the future, he said.\n"In the last half of the century, we've had the luxury of not having to understand why other countries do the things they do," Knudsen said. "But I think clearly those days are numbered."\nWith the rise of China and the European Union, the supremacy of the United States will diminish over the next 25 years, Knudsen said.\nThough Americans may not know Iraq from Iran, the NGS survey showed they understood the significance behind the map. Americans may not be able to find Afghanistan on a globe, but they know its association with al Qaeda.