tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14878831290010549182011-04-21T17:13:48.034-07:00Katherine Devorakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17065786005178051700noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1487883129001054918.post-20770251465594429782009-05-15T23:12:00.000-07:002009-05-16T00:55:59.497-07:00Dear Hope,<br /><br />You have been assigned to Miss Rose Gul, sitting in Bryant Park, drinking hard liquor, and wearing beautiful Turkish skin. <br /><br />I walked up to her, and noticed you on her today. <br /><br />Professor Longinow asked The World Journalism Institute to go study abroad in the park and learn about you, study you. We were assigned to study people and see if any had you; then, ask them why.<br /><br />Gul wrapped her hand around a dark brown bottle, doubled with dark brown paper to hid the dark brown gin inside. <br /><br />We talked for a minute, for five minutes, for ten, for an hour. Hope is something we create inside of us. We make it for ourselves. We choose to hope because we need something to hope for, she said. We humans cannot live without it. <br /><br />She went on to talk about her father, who was a Soviet Union soldier in WWII, who went into Germany to fight the axis powers, and ended up falling in love with a girl from Spain who was on a business trip to Germany with her father. <br /><br />They married and had a baby named Gul, or Rose. Gul is Turkish for "Rose" because not long after Rose was born, her family moved to Turkey. She studied at university in Turkey for Literature, which she quoted thorougly throughout the conversation. <br /><br />She lost her home in the recession and was left homeless. Today she rents and hopes that things will get better, that she will one day be able to buy her house back.<br /><br />We can't live without hope, said Rose. Hope comes from "light", and "God", said Rose. He gives us the hope. In broken English, she told me she was not Christian, but believed that God is real.<br /><br />She asked me many questions about myself. I answered honestly. <br /><br />I walked back from Bryant Park on 42nd St and 6th Ave with Tim Devancy, who called out when he saw a small dark colored animal scurrying across the gray sidewalk in front of us. "Is that a RAT?" Asked Tim in horror, fastination, and disgust.<br /><br />"No."<br /><br />Tim looked quizzical.<br /><br />"That's a roach."<br /><br />It was a very small roach. <br /><br />And we walked on.<br /><br />Hoping for sunny skies and roachless rooms,<br />Katherine<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1487883129001054918-2077025146559442978?l=katherinedevorak.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Katherine Devorakhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17065786005178051700noreply@blogger.com1