Wegman's

This week I ventured with some friends to Wegman’s. Over the past semester, some of my peers have talked about the supermarket, only to be shocked at my remark that I had never been there.  They made it seem as if Wegman’s was the place to hang out and find obscure foods, so this week I decided to put my wonders to rest and experience Wegman’s for myself.

We entered the supermarket to find the produce section. Looking around, it appeared no different than the average grocery store. I saw herbs and root vegetables on my right and citrus fruit ahead of me.

Hungry, (which is never a good state to be in when at a grocery store) we didn’t stay long in the produce section. We walked to Wegman’s café area, where customers can buy food, such as Mexican, Italian, Indian, and Asian cuisine, sandwiches and salads. I was impressed by the spread. I don’t remember ever being in a grocery store with so many pre-prepared foods to eat. There was even an area set aside with tables and chairs to eat the food like a cafeteria!

Next we moseyed around the isles. Wegman’s bakery had many types of breads that I had never heard of, and the desserts looked intricate. We wandered through the frozen section and other isles. For the most part, it still reminded me of most other grocery stores. Why did everyone else seem so excited about this place again?

One aspect of Wegman’s that set itself apart from other stores was its international foods section. In this area of the store there were brands from around the world. I spotted French drinks, Indian rice and Australian preserves.

Overall I was impressed by some of the varieties that Wegman’s had to offer, but for the most part I was left disappointed. I suppose it’s my own fault for allowing my perception of the establishment run wild with other’s input. I had a preconceived notion that I would feel dwarfed by towering isles packed with enticing foods. Wegman’s is simply a grocery store, nothing more than that. It will neither solve world hunger nor leave you with your mouth hanging open in awe.

Yes, I’ve now been to Wegman’s. It had some redeeming aspects, though for the most part it was just an average grocery store with lots of hype. Knowing I can say that I’ve been to Wegman’s, I think I’ll stick to my regular grocery store for the sake of convenience rather than awe. 

No Phone

This week’s new adventure was neither foreseen nor favorable, but it happened nonetheless.

Last Saturday I was chatting with my friend Sharmila in her room when, as I stood up to leave, I accidentally stepped on my phone. Immediately I knew that I had broken the screen and with it my communication with others.

I tried turning it on and off, but alas, nothing happened. And so it was confirmed that my phone was broken.

“No!” I cried, “This can’t be happening!” My mind raced as I tried to remember those whom I was texting prior to the incident. How was I supposed to contact them? Sharmila was nice enough to let me borrow her phone so I could finish setting up plans to go to Late Night at the HUB with some friends later that evening.

At 9:30 precisely I stood at the meeting place my friends and I had arranged for Late Night. The more I waited, the more I began to worry. What if something happened and they couldn’t come? They would have no way to contact me, and I was not enthused at the idea of indefinitely standing alone on a Saturday night.

My friends did meet me, but those few minutes of fretting made me wonder what life was going to be like without a phone? I had sent a message to my mom through Facebook, asking her is she could send me one of my old cell phones. But until then, I was phoneless!

Ever since my 14^th birthday when I was given my first cell phone, I have never spent an extended amount of time without one (save for abroad vacations where my family wasn’t allowed to use one for fear of a monstrous phone bill). And yet, even though I had spent 14 years of my life without one, I felt completely disconnected without a phone. How could I really be so dependent upon something small and nonessential?

I began to re-examine my relationship with my dead phone. Out of habit I brought the broken soul with me to class on more than one occasion. Every once in a while I tried checking to see if I had any new messages. The situation seemed to grow more pathetic by the day.

One might say that the experience was liberating – I was free from distracting texts and the compulsion to respond to others, but more than anything this week has made me a little disappointed.

I think that it’s sad how much I have come to rely upon a piece of technology, though I suppose today this is simply the norm. Gone are the days when letter writing was common and there was one phone per household. Is it better this way, or is it worse?

If nothing else, this week was extremely telling. I had no idea I was so reliant upon my phone. As a result, I was never so happy to use an old phone as I was when the one my mom sent me arrived.

Mt. Nittany

Spring has sprung! Flowers have begun to bloom as life emerges once again from the dormant trees. Like the vegetation, students spend the days outside enjoying the sun rather than retreating from gusts of bitterly cold wind. With such glorious weather, this was the perfect week to try climbing Mt. Nittany. 

The mountain is said to be named after Nit-A-Nee, a Native American woman whose lover was killed. After Nit-A-Nee buried her lost lover, a violent storm came and raised her lover’s burial mound until it grew to the size of the mountain.¹

Today this massive burial mound is known as Mt. Nittany and is a Penn State University landmark. With hiking trails between 2 and 8 miles long, it is a popular location for students and locals alike.

My friend Ana, a local of Centre County and experienced Mt. Nittany hiker, drove use to the base of the mountain. There were parked cars lined up along the road by the start of the hiking trail. Clearly, trekking Mt. Nitanny was popular and I was excited to start the climb for myself! After taking a brief look at a map of the trails, Ana and I began the climb.

Following white markers, we wandered up the path among the trees. It didn’t take very long until I was out of breath and perspiring – the incline was a lot steeper than I had thought it would be! Thankfully there were spots at which to rest along the path. We, of course, took advantage of these.

The path eventually went from soft dirt to rocks. Now not only did we have to reckon with the incline but also with out footing. Personally I enjoyed the added challenge; to me it was part of the adventure! Eventually our path went back to a safer footing and, as we got closer to the summit, the incline lessened. 

At last we reached the top! Sweaty and with thumping hearts, we walked over to a clearing which revealed a magnificent view of Happy Valley. The view was well worth the hike – from it we could see the town and campus below.

We weren’t the only ones taking in the view – a number of couples sat quietly together. Being the only group of two not romantically involved, at first our presence felt a bit out of place. Then again, the presence of the couples meant there were potential photographers to take a picture of Ana and me!

Venturing up Mt. Nittany was difficult, yet at the same time it was fun and rewarding. Seeing Penn State from above was a really neat occurrence. Hiking up the mountain is a great activity to with other –friend or significant other—and I would highly recommend it to anyone. What’s more, after exerting energy to reach the summit and see the gorgeous view, it’s all downhill from there.


As a side note, since I donated blood to the Red Cross, earlier this week I received a letter from them. In it was their appreciation for my donation and a card with my blood type which, as it turns out, is O Negative!


1Hike Mount Nittany. "The Legend of Mount Nittany." 21 March 2012. Web. <http://www.hikemountnittany.com/>. 

Soufflés

This week I decided to venture into the world of baking! Lately I’ve become enthused with the discipline—I love the sweet smells and tastes of baked goods and being able to share them with others. Luckily for me, on campus at Penn State there’s never a shortage of those willing to eat freshly baked goods.

This evening, with the help of some friends, I tried baking soufflés—a lightly baked cake consisted of eggs and various combinations of ingredients. The world ‘soufflé’ comes from the French past participle of the verb ‘souffler’, which means to blow out or blow up. As the name implies, if prepared correctly, when the soufflé comes out of the oven it should be puffed up and fluffy.

Beforehand I wasn’t quite sure what these desserts were, and to me they always seemed complicated. The idea of attempting to make them sounded very French and difficult, but I looked forward to the challenge. I was ready to try baking something personally novel, knowing it could end up as sweet success or bitter defeat.

Our recipe for the evening was for chocolate soufflés. The ingredients sounded simple (eggs, sugar, butter, chocolate morsels, water and lemon juice), and the instructions sounded easy enough. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all!

We brushed ramekins (a small baking dish used for baking) with butter and sugar, melted and combined ingredients and beat eggs for what seemed hours. After a sink full of dirty dishes and tired arms from holding the beater, we were finally ready to pour out the soufflé batter into the ramekins.

The batter itself was fluffy; it reminded me of the kind used for meringues or angel food cake. We poured the batter to the tops of the ramekins, slid them into the oven, set at 400˚F, and prayed that they would have the fluffiness key to soufflés.

After about 15 minutes we peeked though the oven door to check their progress. We were happy to find that they had risen a significant amount—it was as if they had become inflated balloons!

When they were done baking, we took out the swelled cakes and sprinkled powder sugar on them. Within just a few minutes after being taken out of the oven the soufflés notably deflated.

The recipe called for the soufflés to be served immediately, so with forks in hand my friends and I tentatively delved into the desserts. This was by far the most painful part of the experience—having been in the 400˚F oven for 20 minutes, the soufflés were piping hot and burned our mouths as we tried to taste them. But, through the pain of the hotness, we all tasted the sweetness of our soufflés.

None of us had ever made a soufflé before or, for that matter, eaten one. That being said, none of us had an idea of exactly how a soufflé was supposed to look or taste. Regardless, the ones we made had the fluffiness and tasted delicious. In our opinions, this venture was a success!

PUNC

At the beginning of the semester I joined a club known as the Penn State International Affairs and Debate Association, or PSIADA. A few representatives of the club had given my dorm floor a short promotion to join and, seeing others write down their names and thinking the club sounded interesting and applicable to my intended major (International Politics), I signed myself up.

Walking to my first PSIADA meeting I wondered who from my floor would be there or whom else I would know. I also wondered what being in the club meant doing.

I didn’t recognize a single face at the club meeting, and I wasn’t sure what to do or to whom I could direct my numerous questions. “Oh, Claire! What have you gotten yourself into?” I asked myself.

The Secretary General of the club, Ellisse walked over to welcome me and then introduced me to a former secretary general who explained the club and what it does.

PSIADA is a student-run organization comprised of students with a variety of majors and participates in Model United Nations style competitions in the U.S. and Canada. In addition, each spring the club hosts its own competition, the Pennsylvania United Nations Conference, also known as PUNC. Quickly approaching, this competition was the focus of PSIADA. It meant preparing separate committees in which delegates from visiting schools could debate issues.

I ended up joining the World at Crossroads: UN SC 2060 committee as a crisis member. Essentially in this committee delegates were to debate presented futuristic situations based upon perceptions of the 2060 world. I, as a crisis member, was stationed in another room with my committee members, responding to delegates’ requests and creating updates for the futuristic situations while the chair of our committee, Dan, mediated the delegates’ discussion in the other room.

The conference began on Thursday, February 23. Over 120 students came form a variety of universities, including Queen’s University in Montréal, Cornell, University of Pittsburg, and the University of Maryland. Our conference began with opening remarks from PUNC’s board followed by the keynote speaker and former United States Assistant Secretary of State for Public Affairs P.J. Crowley.

Following the opening ceremony, we started our first crisis session. Working alongside crisis teams from other committees, my 2060 crisis team and I worked together to respond to delegates’ notes and come up with new crises for them to debate and solve. It was fun being creative and, as mean as it sounds, working with others to make it difficult for the delegates to reach a solution.

We continued to do this at different sessions throughout the weekend. I loved the fast, creative pace of the crisis room while being able to laugh mischievously and tell a country that 30,000 of its citizens have been infected with a futuristic and deadly virus. Over the course of the weekend I got to know my committee members, other members of PSIADA and students from visiting schools.

My committee members, (above, from left to right) Anmol, Jack, Dan, Mrithul, and Sanjana and I worked to come up with crises for student delegates to solve. 

Overall the weekend was a really fun experience. I loved the creative and fast-paced crisis room and getting to know others. I’d never been to a conference or anything like PUNC, and, although at the beginning it was intimidating and confusing, joining the club and participating in the conference has thus far been a good experience. I look forward to continue participating in PSIADA in the future! 

THON

This past weekend was the Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon, also known as THON. Months of planning and fundraising to benefit The Four Diamonds Fund at the Penn State Hershey Children’s Hospital culminated to this event. With over 15,000 students participating, this was the focus of the University Park campus this past weekend.

Being from Hershey, home of the Penn State Medical Center, I’d heard about THON and had friends who participated in it, whether through Penn state or through affiliations with the medical center. Each year my friends, whose parents were involved in THON through the hospital, thus giving my peers a chance to go, would come back from the THON weekend inspired by the students’ efforts and stories of pediatric cancer patients who’d benefitted from the Four Diamonds Fund. Having only heard about THON weekend, I was excited to finally experience it for myself!

THON is a 46-hour dance marathon where selected students from different fundraising organizations stand or dance continuously. Taking place at the campus’ multipurpose arena, the Bryce Jordan Center (BJC), thousands of involved students and Four Diamonds families congregate in support of the dancers and to be inspired. Walking into the BJC the first night of THON, I thought I knew what to expect, but I was wrong.

The stands were bursting with color and held-up signs to indicate the different fundraising organizations. The stands were packed with students dancing to the booming music. Excitement ran through my bones—the students’ enthusiasm for THON was incredible! It was amazing to see so many students come together for a philanthropic cause. Moving as a crowd to the line dance, done every hour by the thousands inside the BJC to revive the dancers and spectators was phenomenal as well.

In between hourly line dances, the d.j. played upbeat music, bands performed, and Four Diamond families were introduced. As a spectator, I didn’t want to leave the stands, but sleep and homework beckoned.

Life on campus outside of the BJC/THON bubble was dead. It seemed as if everyone in one shape or form was involved in the marathon.

Our THON organization's dancers Ashley (green) and Sean (yellow) kept positive attitudes the whole marathon, despite how long they had been standing and tired they were.  

Going back to the BJC, I had the opportunity to go on the floor with some friends in my THON organization. We signed in to get our passes and met up with our organization’s dancers, Sean and Ashley. 

The excitement on the floor echoed that in the stand, but now my friends and I were able to interact with the Four Diamond kids, who animatedly ran around with squirt guns and smiles. Sunday, the final hours of THON weekend, the Four Diamond Fund families were introduced and some shared their stories, bringing many tears to the stands packed with tired spectators and dances.

Eventually it became time to countdown the end of the 46 hours, after which the dancers happily collapsed to the ground. Afterwards we all waited with anticipation for the final total fundraised to be revealed.  Finally, the time had come. Up went the numbers.

$10, 686, 924.83

The crowd erupted in cheers! Never before had THON raised so much money! It was the perfect ending to such an inspiring weekend.

I’m glad I became involved in THON as a student at Penn State, and I am proud of what my peers have helped accomplish. The weekend was tiring, but more than anything it was inspiring. Well done Penn State!

Donating Blood

This week, in honor of Valentine’s Day, I decided to try donating blood. I’ve attempted to donate twice before, once at my high school where I was rejected for having had a vaccine within the prior two weeks, and once at my church, where I was rejected for having been our of the country within the year. I hoped that this time I would be accepted!

The American Red Cross is often on the Penn State University campus holding blood drives, and reasonably so. With 40,000 young and healthy people walking around campus, it’s an ideal location to recruit donors. I signed up online for one these drives to give a whole blood donation, or a one-pint donation.

Having made the appointment, I walked over to the blood drive being held on campus in Kunkle Lounge where I signed in, read over material describing the donation process and sat down to wait for my name to be called.

Despite everyone’s calm and matter-of-fact demeanor, I was still nervous about the needle they would stick into my arm, and whether or not I’d faint. I’d been trying to stay hydrated, so I thought that would help. But before the needle or side effects, I first had to get through the screening process.

After about 15 minutes, my name was called and a nurse took me back to a secluded area for a screening. My palms began to feel clammy. This was the part I’d failed in the past.

I answered questions about myself and then she proceeded to take my information, temperature and blood pressure. It felt like being at a regular check-up! But then she took out a needle I was not expecting to see.

In the past I’d always failed the screening process before reaching this stage of it. The nurse was about to use the small needle to prick my finger to check my iron level. Suddenly my hands went from clammy to hot and sweaty.

I am not a fan of needles and, although I knew they would be using one to draw blood, the unexpected one about to puncture my finger was discouraging.

I scrunched my face, looked away and held out my hand to the nurse who sat behind a plastic panel in case blood squirted from me finger toward her. In an instant there was a sharp pinch followed by a small red dot. She collected the blood and replaced it with a band-aid. After verifying the level of iron, I was cleared to give blood. I had passed!

The nurse seemed pleased that I was excited to give blood. I suppose most first-timers are scared about a needle being prodded in to their arm or the possible side effects of donating. At the moment I was just really excited that I’d passed the screening process.

She guided me over to a padded bench and examined the veins in my arms. After having me lay down she cleaned the area in between my right forearm and bicep and got the needle ready.

Again, with a deep breath, I turned away and felt a sharp pinch, followed by a slight burn (from the iodine the nurse had applied) and then relatively nothing. Looking down toward my arm I saw the tubes become red. I was pumping blood!

After about 10 minutes, my whole blood donation was complete. I proudly looked down at my bag of blood. I’d never seen so much of my own blood before. Sure, I’d seen other blood before, but that was my blood and, for whatever reason, I was immensely proud of it.

The nurse helped me sit up and walk over to a table for refreshments. I felt neither dizzy nor faint. I simply felt happy. With little pain I’d given blood knowing it was for a good cause. It strikes me as odd that, although as people we are all so complex and different, we are all made up of the same basic parts.

I’m extremely happy that I donated a pint of my blood and, after 56 days and given I can pass the screening process, I’d like to do it again. I like thinking how what once pumped through my arteries will have the chance to save someone else and pump through theirs.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

For more information about the donation process or how you can donate blood, please visit http://www.redcrossblood.org/. 

13 Strangers

I’m not usually one to strike up a conversation with a stranger, let alone open up my home to them. But when it came to canning for THON, that’s what I did.

           

For those of you unfamiliar with THON, it is the largest student-run philanthropy in the world, raising money for the Four Diamonds Fund to benefit pediatric cancer patients and culminating in a 46-hour dance marathon. Since Penn State students founded it in 1973, THON has raised more than $78 million towards The Four Diamonds Fund at Penn State Hershey Children’s Hospital. Last year alone over $9.5 million was raised through generous donations through mail, the Internet and canning weekends¹.

So when it came time for another canning weekend, I thought to myself, “Why not offer to house fellow members of my THON organization, Apollo, for a few days? Sure, I may not know them that well, but I’d be helping our effort to raise money for a great cause.” I’d certainly never housed 13 virtual strangers before, so if my THON group decided to go to my hometown Hershey it would definitely be a new experience!

Low and behold, the chairs of our THON group decided to go to my hometown, Hershey, which meant Apollo members would be staying at my house. At first I was excited—I’d get to go home and know the members of my THON group. But then I became more anxious. Essentially 13 strangers were coming to my house. I’d only been canning once before so I wasn’t totally sure as to what the routine was for a canning weekend.

Here we canners are, about to embark on a December canning weekend in Philadelphia. The sign we are making is the symbol for the Four Diamonds Fund. 

A friend of mine from home was also going canning with Apollo, so she volunteered her house for dinner. After we had eaten a feast of Italian food her mom had prepared, we decided to go to Chocolate World, the typical Hershey-tourist thing to do. Unbeknown to us, Chocolate World had closed 5 hours before we got there. Oops! Here I was, in my own town and I didn’t even know the details about the most obvious of things to do! I hoped this wasn’t an omen of the canning weekend.

My parents greeted us as we walked into my house, and then we set up camp in the basement. Here was my home, full of memories and embarrassing baby pictures, and there were kids from college whom I barely knew. It felt strange to me; opening my home to people I didn’t know. But, before I knew it, we were all playing ping-pong and playstation. My fat baby pictures faded into the background. I didn’t know these people, but they seemed nice!

Being the locals, my friend and I mapped out where we’d be canning the next day. The next morning we woke ourselves up and set out to try and raise money.

And raised we did! We raised a fair amount of money considering our location and conditions. Exhausted from the long day, the canners decided to go back to State College and I stayed home with my family.

Although I’d certainly never housed 13 unfamiliar people before, in the end I think it was a good experience. At first I may have been nervous about hosting others, but by the end of the canning trip I felt like I’d gotten to know them better. In the end knew each other better, shared some laughs and raised money to help kids with cancer. I'd say it was a success. 

If you would like to find out more about what THON is, please visit http://www.thon.org.

¹http://www.thon.org/

Salsa

My older brother and I share a lot of things—memories, jokes, music and parents, to name a few. There are also many things we do not share. Prior to this week, for instance, I had never had a chance to share Peter’s interest in ballroom dancing.           

Peter, my older brother, is involved with Penn State’s ballroom dancing club. He has his own pair of spiffy dancing shoes, takes a class and is a chairman for the tango division of the club. I was excited at the prospect of trying something that really interested him!

After meeting up with my brother in the White Building we walked over to salsa. The music I heard from the outside was my first clue—booming from the inside was lively Latin music inviting all to enter the gymnasium and begin dancing. Hearing the music made me excited. Perhaps the dancing would be as fun as the music!

After walking into the room and signing in our names we all lined up in rows. It was time for a salsa warm-up!

I’ve never participated in a more discombobulated warm-up. We all followed the lead of the salsa expert in the front of the room. The music’s tempo suddenly seemed too fast and I felt like my limbs were flailing in every direction as I tried to spin and change directions while keeping up with the others. But I wasn’t the only one who was having trouble keeping up; looking around, others were just as flustered as I was by the pace. Even my brother looked like he was having trouble keeping up!

After the warm-up the group, about 100 of us, divided ourselves into beginners and veterans. I joined others in the beginner’s group, many of them apparently new to the sport like me. In front of us an older member of the club introduced herself and proceeded to show us the 8 counts and steps used in salsa.

After repeating these steps a few times we increased our pace, added music and, before I knew it, we were adding a partner! I was nervous about getting a dancing partner. I was still having trouble counting my steps (“1,2,3…5,6,7!”), and I was afraid I would mess up another. What’s more, unlike at Power Remix classes, where I usually make up my own dance moves when I can’t keep up with the instructor, salsa’s moves I knew I couldn’t just make up as I pleased! I was already feeling sorry for my future salsa partner.

Alternating gender, we organized in a circle and turned to the person beside us and tried to emulate the example our teachers had showed us. Adding a partner was actually easier than I had anticipated and I felt like an official salsa dancer dancing with another!

Periodically we switched partners and learned new moves and proper salsa form. We learned how to turn and how to step in time with the music. Like me, those in the beginner group seemed to be having fun learning something new.

At the very end the groups merged for a “free dance” period. Switching partners, I got the chance to dance a few more advanced club members, including my brother. He’s a much better dancer than me but, now knowing the principles of salsa dancing, I was able to keep up with him.

I now understand why my brother enjoys ballroom dancing—the dance and people involved are fun. By the end of the session I had had a good time and felt that my salsa skills had drastically improved. I would love to go back again to salsa or try another style of ballroom dance. Overall it was a really great experience! The only thing I’d change for next time: if I ever get the change to go salsa dancing again, I’m bringing chips. 

Yoga

Week one of trying new things and I felt like a kid in a candy store! It seemed as if there were so many possibilities that I hardly knew where to start. How, then, to choose? Between the amount of work piling up and the glum mood on campus, one activity looked particularly enticing: Yoga.

For those of you who, like me, are unfamiliar to the discipline, yoga has been practiced for more than 5,000 years, originating in India. The word ‘yoga’ comes from the Sanskrit word ‘Yuj’ meaning to join or to unite, which, bringing mind and body together, is the goal of yoga through breathing, meditation and stretches¹. While the breathing and meditation of yoga help the individual focus, the stretches work to release lactic acid that builds up with the muscle, which causes stiffness, tension and even pain². This being said, I was all for trying this new activity!

Finding a scheduled class at the White Building, I grabbed my water bottle and donned my yoga pants, happy I would finally be wearing them to their intended occasion.  Upon the advice of another, I arrived to class half an hour in advance. It was a good thing I did so too—there was already a line! Yoga was clearly a popular class, but why?

Sitting in line, the novelty of what I was about to do hit me. For instance, what if, while stretching, I got stuck in some crazy position? Despite a few apprehensions, I was generally excited about trying this popular activity. I had always heard about how relaxing yoga could be, and now I was finally going to try it!

Just being in the yoga classroom was a relaxing experience! The lights were dimmed and soothing piano music drifted around us.  After we all got situated on our mats we began with a few simple stretches, focusing on breathing and keeping our minds closed to all else going on in our lives. At first, being cardio junkie, I was bored with the slow pace of the regimented breathing and exercises. This feeling, however, did not last long.

The stretches became more strenuous, and I started to sweat! One minute we were downward-facing dogs and then the next upward-facing dogs, followed by cranes and eagles. I had no idea yoga included the names of so many animals, or that the stretches themselves could be so tricky. And despite how, rather than solely flexibility, yoga involved strength, over the course of the class I began to feel more supple and relaxed. 

Leaving the class I felt relaxed and pleased that I had finally tried a yoga class. I not only feel that I have a better understanding what it is, but I also want to try it again in the future. Overall I felt this experience was a success! Hooray! Or, as the case may be, namaste!

            

¹ http://www.medindia.net/yoga-lifestyle/yoga-orgin.htm

² http://www.webmd.com/balance/the-health-benefits-of-yoga