The Color Purple

I feel that we, as humans, have for the most part accepted that life simply is not fair. But every now and then, something so unjustified and so incomprehensible happens that even the most disconnected and cynical human beings have to stop and beg the question as to why. An already emotionally driven person, I am helplessly searching my mind today to understand why Kevin Gahndi's life depends on a machine- droning, clicking, humming, and providing him a heartbeat. This time tomorrow, that machine will have stopped working. When faced with a decision no mother or sister should ever have to make, his family chose to stop providing the life support.

For now, I have no need to pour out my thoughts through this virtual catharsis. You see, Kevin was always frustrated with his friends because he thought we were too emotional. He was the poster child of understanding hardships, and moving on. But I can't take a page out of Kevin's book today. Moving on is hard to do when the person lost is as beautiful as him. All I want to do, is show a small display of a person more loved than he could ever understand. I just want to post a few pictures that made me think of Kevin- for one reason or another- in the color that made him known as Purple Pants himself

If this is a Senate Committee, where are all the Senators?

When I made my way to Capitol Hill yesterday afternoon, I was expecting an exhilarating remainder of my workday. I was going to the Confirmation Hearing of 4 nominated and potential Ambassadors to be. Their prospective host nations would be Turkey, Iraq, Yemen, and Lebanon. No one could argue that these are boring or safe places for a Foreign Service worker. Instead, three of the four nations are oftentimes threatened by extremism and dreaded Iranian regional influence. Furthermore, Turkey, has, in recent times, certainly shown signs of leaning East and putting the West behind it. This is not a good sign for a U.S. ally to show. Additionally, Iraq is a vulnerable nation and its future is surely uncertain, to put it mildly. To sum it up without going into details about the fragility and potential of relations with these nations, I could not think of a more crucial time to have qualified and overly prepared Ambassadors acting as the messengers of the American interest in Ankara, Beirut, Baghdad, and Sanaa. With that being said, I was dismally disappointed to see that of 19 members of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, no more that 4 were present at any given point. Throughout the 3.5 hour hearing, less than 8 were present altogether. How could this happen? This was supposed to be the opportunity for the Senators to ask crucial questions, determine the quality of these servicemen, understand their goals... the list goes on and on. But not one Senator truly turned up the heat. Perhaps Senator Menendez of New Jersey succeeded in making the Ambassador to Turkey nominee rather uncomfortable when he asked the nominee if he had been to a Turkish Genocide Celebration on his visits to Turkey. He did this to follow up a series of Genocide related questions to underline a very clear point: Turkey mocks the Genocide. Besides Menendez's pressing questions, the Senators spoonfed the nominees questions they tackled with no difficulty, most of which they had already addressed in their initial statements. Perhaps the Senators have so much faith in Barack Obama's nominations that they saw no need to question. Although, I doubt this theory holds true for the Republican Members. Where was the true American tradition of checks and balances? Perhaps I am being too cynical, perhaps these four nominees will do a marvelous job, and perhaps the Senators are simply far too busy to partake. In any case, I still can't help but wonder about possible apathy on their behalf.



Regarding the nominee to Turkey, he appeared to be a knowledgeable man, with an admirable reputation as a U.S Foreign Service agent. He addressed the Genocide when asked, referring to it as the massacre of 1.5 million, without blatanly calling it a genocide. I saw several prominent Turkish lobbyists, seated in front of me, scribble away fervently as he addressed the issue.

He gave an interesting response regarding Turkish mistreatment of the internationally honored Ecumenical Patriarch (recipient of the Congressional Gold Medal from the U.S. Congress). The nominee answered this question with the following:

"I will give it every effort and use the devices of diplomacy. Perhaps there are a couple of newer wrinkles to bear. When I would speak with the Turks on human rights issues, particularly religious freedom issues, one of the points that I found most salient, and that really hit home with the Turks is to appeal to their pride. And historic tolerance, they see it as part of a national branding of the Turkish character, if you will. And when Catholic Spain was burning Jews, and Muslims and heretics, only half a millennium ago, which in Middle Eastern time is less time than for us, Turkey welcome the Jews of Spain to come there and profited greatly from that. The Ottoman Empire also profited heavily from having Greek Christians, Armenian Christians in their highest offices of government as ministers until the end of the Ottoman Empire. Turks take pride in that, but don't always live up to it in the modern time. So I would certainly remind the Turks of that great tradition that they had. Beyond that, it's public diplomacy."

I wonder if he remembers that the reason those Armenian ministers no longer served was because they were all taken from their homes and beheaded one fateful night?

Thunderstorm

Tonight, despite 88 degree weather, there is thunder and lightning outside my window. Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's greeting the one month anniversary of my time in DC with some apprehension, or maybe it's a streak of homesickness, but I'm finding it a difficult night to fall asleep. I haven't ever been afraid of thunderstorms, but this one feels like it's enveloping me- surrounding me completely. When I lay my head down I feel the thunder and its vibrations. It's very overwhelming. I feel small and unprotected. What's worse is that it came out of nowhere, just as I was finishing up a conversation and planning on bidding the world goodnight. I suppose I can see it as the weather reacting to the thunderstorm that's been in my head the past few days. I've been thinking about a lot of things but just to avoid a blog novel, I'll write about what is most relevant to what my blog has been thus far.


The more I work here, attending networking events with over-qualified people looking for jobs that never seem to come and learning to involuntarily categorize people by degree and major, my anxiety problem eats away at me from the inside more than ever. I have been always anxious for the next step, so I chose to graduate early- to get ahead. And now, I am already thinking post-graduation. But what's next? I don't know at all. I don't have the slightest clue. I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders, but I put it all there myself. I don't really how else to do it, I've always been this way. Why am I in such a rush? I hate this. But ask me to slow down and I'll refuse the idea instantly. Sometimes I wish I could be ten again- but then I remember that I hated being ten. I was never cool enough and my hair was way too frizzy. But I hated fifteen, too. I was too young to be taken seriously and too old to be irresponsible. Twenty? Well, I'm not even there yet. I just can't help and ask myself this: Will I truly revel in the best years of my life?


I send my apologies to any older, more knowledgeable readers. The outbursts of a 19 year old must be silly to you, but I still lack the wisdom life has given you. I think it is nights like this, in my most vulnerable state of mind, that my fears overwhelm me. Even in a world full of people we love, we can feel so alone at times. And an uninvited thunderstorm can only make it worse.



And please, continue to send your prayers, thoughts, and love Kevin's way since he has yet to regain consciousness.

Hold.

Hold on. Before I do anything else, or go on about some things I haven't talked about for over a week, I want to take a second to share some news I haven't wrapped my mind around. I haven't done so because so many things are up in the air that I'm tired of grabbing at them in wasted attempts at grounding. The last time I saw my friend Kevin was the day I moved out of my apartment in San Diego. Kevin, my neighbor and former fellow Muir College Orientation leader, spotted my roommate and I struggling with a cabinet that was obviously too big for two girls our size to be carrying. He saw us from about 100 feet away, and in Kevinly nature, stopped to laugh for a few seconds at how ridiculous we looked before rushing over to help us out. The three of us packed the cabinet into my Golf and walked back home. Kevin let us know if we needed anything else to come knock. Later that day, we said our goodbyes for the summer until September. Kevin scolded me jokingly for not being around even though I was only a few doors down. Now I'm kicking myself more than ever for being a sometimes absent friend. It was always my loss anyway. I received news earlier this week that Kev underwent emergency open heart surgery early this week and has yet to regain consciousness. From what I've been able to put together through text updates of those in the area, I'm not able to tell if this means he is comatose, although to be honest, I'm too afraid to ask and hear it be put that way. I've taken any good sign I can, be it swallowing movement, needing to be sedated for moving about unconsciously, or no visible brain damage in the latest test. I've avoided thinking about the bad, because I don't want it to exist. Each time I check his Facebook page, I scan for a sign of Kevin himself instead of countless friends sending virtual prayers, displays of love, and requests for the return of the Kevin they all know and love. I think I'm going to keep it this way. If keeping hope doesn't directly change anything, I know sure as hell losing hope only makes things worse. Wake up Kevin, I want to hear your voice again.

Political Football?

Yesterday, my fellow interns and I had the privilege to meet Ambassador John Evans and receive some insight on his adventures as a State Department dignitary. You see, Ambassador Evans, was removed from his post as Ambassador to Armenia after becoming quite vocal on The U.S responsibility to accept the Armenian Genocide for what it was: a genocide. The issue was, however, that Ambassador Evans clearly undermined the State's Departments hush hush policy of silence regarding recognition. According to his colleagues and superiors, his stance was unacceptable. Thus, he was made a sort of hero- I would go so far as to say even a martyr- in the Armenian American community. What is striking to me about the Ambassador, however, is that prior to becoming Ambassador in 2004, he had never been to Armenia. He had never had a connection to the people or the land. Nor does he have an Armenian grandmother, wife, or former college roommate. My point here is that Ambassador Evans, as he confessed, learned the undeniable truth of the Genocide merely through reading he did on his own time. To me, I suppose that, not the price he paid for his beliefs, is the most heroic part of his contribution to the Armenian cause.

In any case, the Ambassador spoke of something that really resonated with me. So much so, that I doodled politicians kicking soccer balls in my notebook during our meeting with him. As the Ambassador so wittily put it, the game of International Affairs is much like international football without the referees and 190 teams playing all at once. An appropriate metaphor- given the game of games coming up this Sunday (Viva Espana!) When the Ambassador said this, a tornado of thoughts immediately started rushing through my head and it wasn't only because I'm an avid soccer fan. Most importantly, I started to wonder which way was better. When it comes to International Affairs, should we hail our whistle blowing judges or should we send them off with the very red cards they themselves so often present to the players. If this sounds bizarre and trivial, I want to leave you with this thought.

In the game of international affairs, should regulation violators like Louis Suarez of Uruguay be sent off for blatantly ignoring the rules of the game by using fists to pull out incoming goals? After all, justice was appropriately served in the form of a penalty kick against Suarez and his countrymen. Or, do referees sometimes do more harm than good? Remember the U.S. game against Slovenia. Anyone with half an eye and half a brain could tell that the referees whistle robbed the Americans of the winning goal. Of course, I would not go so far as to suggest the removal of "referees" altogether from International Affairs. But, is the globalizing world, much like FIFA, in severe need of an instant replay tool?

Asbarez Piece

Hello, I just came out of a meeting with Ambassador John Evans, with plenty of new thoughts and a good amount of enlightening information. With that said, I have a lot of things to be sharing tonight. But, given that it's already 8:16 and a bowl of ice cream at home (it's 98 degrees outside right now) sounds pretty fantastic, I'll have to save it for tomorrow.

For now, I wanted to share the link for the piece published in Asbarez News about my work here in DC. Take a look. Like I said, I plagiarized from the blog quite a bit, especially in the part about the Ambassador. Hope you enjoy it.


http://asbarez.com/82937/of-ambassadors-and-baseball-games-reflections-at-the-two-week-mark-of-the-leo-sarkisian-internship/

End of week 2. Deja?

I can't believe it, but yeah, it's already nearing the end of my second week here at work. I hate to say this, but keeping up with the blog is harder than I thought it would be. I promised myself I'd be on top of it at all times, keeping a virtual journal of my day to day activities. But that hasn't entirely been the case. But today I'll update to make up for the lack of posting this week. To be honest, it's been an off week for me. Our whole house is under the weather, which is unusual for early July. I've had a cold I can't quite fight off, and somehow nine hours of sleep hasn't been cutting it for me. I know, it's embarrassing. But it's true! Hopefully, a weekend filled with soccer and nothing to do besides celebrate US independence will rejuvenate me.

Besides feeling sick, this week has been pretty eventful. You'll see bits about the Congressional Baseball game in an upcoming post. I wrote a piece- for which I plagiarized from this here blog- for an Armenian newspaper called Asbarez, to talk about my time here thus far. So stay tuned for more about that.


I guess the one thing I want to write about today is Politicians. Prior to coming to DC, important political figures were always a bit like mythical creatures to me. They made legislative decisions, they campaigned, they reached out to the masses, etc...but they never seemed entirely real. They always appeared to be perfect cutouts of what social convention wants them to be. (To name a few examples, think about the following: perfect suits, pearls, striped ties, and chiseled A-line bobs). In the past few days, I realized that they don't just appear that way, but they are, in fact, perfect cutouts of what social convention wants them to be. This week, I brushed shoulders with the one and only Ron Paul, shook hands with Steny Hoyer, and chatted with a few other key representatives. Not to mention, I saw Speaker Pelosi, in all her greatness, touch up her lipstick a few feet away from me. After all this, I can truly say that they are fantastically charming individuals. Their beaming smiles, their quintessential high fives, their occasional thumbs up, their winks and nods...I could go on and on about how they make the person standing immediately in front of them feel incredible to be there. I mean, it only makes sense, they were elected into public office for a reason. I suppose I had underestimated just how good they were at making people feel important. But with so many politicians being so good at their jobs, it really makes me wonder. How many of them actually give a damn?