Getting to know you~ Getting to know all about you~

Nice to meet you

Hi everyone! My name is Sharon Lin. I was born in New York and live in Queens. I plan on majoring in business, but I’m not sure what I want to do in the future yet. Hopefully my time at Baruch will help me find my path.

Main things to know about me:
~ I love food, except for fish and some cheese due to bad experiences, but I especially love sweets (mostly cake).
~ I love exploring new places and trying new things. I have many countries I want to visit like Hong Kong, South Korea, Italy, France, etc. I hope I can visit those places and experience their culture, but first I’d like to get to know New York better first!
~ I like watching Asian dramas, mostly Chinese and Korean. However, I like watching American shows as well. (Feel free to talk to me about this 😀 )
~ I love my family and friends. Most of my life revolves around making memories with them. (Of course, the other part of my life involves working hard in education and for my future.)

Well those are the main things about myself. I hope I can get to know everyone else, and you can get to know me better. :mrgreen:

How to make Steamed Red Snapper:

In Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake and Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, both protagonist try to analyze and come to terms with their fathers’ deaths. They encounter sceneries and items that evoke memories of their past with their fathers. Through their memories, they are able to connect with their fathers who are no longer with them and find solace.

In The Namesake, Nikhil’s train rides triggers his the story of Ashoke’s story of how that “other train he has never seen, the one that nearly killed his father. Of the disaster that has given him his name” (Lihari 185). Nikhil has been constantly discovering himself. He finally realized the importance of his name. It’s a reminder of his father and everything his father has done for him. His name itself triggers memories. The birthday when his father gave him The Short Stories of Nikolai Gogol. Ashoke refrains from telling Nikhil the real reason why that is his gift. Ashoke “will never forget that night, it no longer lurks persistently in his mind, stalking him in the same way” (Lihari 78). Traces of Ghosh’s death linger in Nikhil’s name. Lihari manipulates powerful memories to make Nikhil’s namesake that much more significant.

In Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, the only link Oskar had to his father was the key he finds in the envelope with “Black” written on it.  He goes around from apartment to apartment looking for the last remnants of his father. Foer’s method of extracting remembrance is through the images he uses. The “flipbook” of Oskar’s father falling pushes Oskar to wish for a safer and more peaceful time, the quotidien routine of his life with his father, the jeweler. One early morning, Oskar returns to his mother and his mother explains how his father had called beforehand confirming he “was on the street, that he’d gotten of of the building. He said he was walking home” (Foer 324). That line allows Oskar and his mother to realize what a loving father he was. He didn’t want his family to panic. Foer is able to draw out intense emotions through the remembrance of the deceased and what they signify.

I reminded of the deceased family members that imparted fond memories to me. Whenever I cook steamed red snapper with ginger, scallion and soy. I reminisce about my late grandmother in Canton who taught me how to cook my first dish at the age of five. I recall the pungent aromas and the loud cleaver chopping away. Like Ashoke tells Gogol about the time they forgot the camera when they wanted to capture the sunset on the docks. “Remember that you and I made this journey, that we went together to a place where there was nowhere left to go” (Lihari 187).

Some stuff about me

 

Hi, my name is Ngawang. It’s pronounced Nae-wong. I was born in Nepal which is a small country between India and China. But, I am not nepali, i am Tibetan. I think i want to major in either finance or economics.My favorite sports are track and field and basketball. I always play basketball whenever i can and love to watch it as well.  My favorite basketball team is the Bulls. My favorite movie is fight club but i also loved the oceans movies. My favorite food is japanese food especially those cup ramens.  I love to travel and hope that i can visit most of the major capitals of the world. I hope i can get to know you all better by the end of the semester.

Where Past Meets Present

In her novel The Namesake, Jhumpa Lahiri introduces a series of arbitrary events that serve to remind characters of past events, places, and familiars. Jonathan Foer, author of Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, artfully leverages perhaps the most infamous event in American history, the collapse of the Twin Towers, to fuel a story of loss and acceptance. He concurrently divulges a stream of letters to communicate events that have shaped the protagonist’s past, present, and future. While both authors employ distinct methods, each works to provide a comprehensive backdrop that both advances and explains the plot.
From the absence of the letter bearing Gogol’s name, to the brusque death of Ashoke, The Namesake is marked by “a string of accidents, unforeseen, unintended, one incident begetting another” (286). Each incident, in turn, affects a character, engendering an introspective response that leads him to examine life from a different perspective.
Moushumi, moderately content in her marriage to Gogol, begins her eighth semester at NYU and chances upon the rĂ©sumĂ© of Dimitri, a former flame. Inundated by a collection of dormant memories, Moushumi calls Dimitri in hopes that her once unrequited affections will be reciprocated. The two quickly engage in a passionate affair that unravels Moushumi’s marriage and leaves Gogol with “the humiliation of having been deceived” (282). Blind to Moushumi’s infidelity, the divorce is “impossible to prepare for”, an event “which one spent a lifetime looking back at, trying to accept, interpret, comprehend” (287). In essence, The Namesake illustrates the unchartered nature of one’s life, where one’s past dictates one’s future.
Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close follows a radically different format, ceaselessly catapulting readers from past to present. The work’s protagonist, Oscar Schell, devotes himself to the unfeasible task of finding the lock compatible with a key left by his late father, a victim of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. Oscar’s journey is intermittently interrupted by Foer who provides the backstory of Oscar’s grandparents. The story is presented by means of a series of unsent letters written by Oscar’s grandfather, addressed to Oscar’s father. The letters expose the tragic courtship of Oscar’s grandfather and late great aunt, the genocide that resulted in her death, and the unconventional marriage and split of Oscar’s grandparents. The letters, in effect, chronicle the lives of Oscar’s paternal family, as seen by his grandfather, and serve as a memento of Oscar’s heritage. They are buried in the grave of Oscar’s father, a grave previously unoccupied. This notion suggests that memories transcend the individuals that they represent; although Oscar’s father passed away, his legacy will forever be intact.
Lahiri and Foer diverge in terms of subject matter, yet meet in the importance placed on remembrance. By consulting memories, individuals may be lead to make a decision, make no decision, or carry on where another left off.

 

Recollections

“There are people whose remembrance gives light in this world, long after they have passed away. This light shines in our darkest nights on the road we must follow.” (Anonymous) Out of the most tragic and historic events there comes both deep sorrow and great hope. Jonathan Safran Foer, author of Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, takes the reader on a journey through the eyes of a nine-year old boy named Oskar Schell. With a roller-coaster of emotions, Jonathan Safran Foer captures and invokes remembrance of the September 11th tragedy. Through the use of powerful sentences and descriptive words, the author puts the reader in the shoes of Oskar- who sadly lost his father in the terrorist attacks.

Remembrance is not only evoked through written language, but also through visual imagery. It is said that a single picture is worth more than a thousand words. Jonathan Safran Foer scattered a select amount of vivid images of the tragic event; drawing attention to places and particular objects. For example, the photograph on page 303, symbolizes the key of remembrance and unlocking the hidden truths of Oskar Schell’s father. The hands etched with the words “YES” and “NO” on page 260 depict the inability to communicate when one has experienced suffering. These images hold a deeper meaning that can only be exchanged through the reader’s eyes and felt with the heart. Remembrance, whether through a written language or a cluster of images, unlocks hidden doors and explores the windows of the soul.

 

“Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.” (Kevin Arnold) In the touching novel, The Namesake, written by Jhumpa Lahiri, the reader glances through the eyes of Gogol- struggling to shape his identity based on Indian traditions and American dreams. Through hardships, self-acceptance and understanding, Gogol must learn to come to terms with his name, his family, and his background. His name invokes remembrance through self identity- remembering who he is, and where he comes from. It holds a significant meaning that changes the course of his life as he soon realizes his place in America.

Like Jonathan Safran Foer, Jhumpa Lahiri uses descriptive language to create visual images. In the beginning of the novel, Ashima is about to give birth to Gogol and speaks of the differences between an American clock and an Indian one. Through the use of imagery and detailed phrases, Lahiri evokes remembrance. The ticking of the clock and counting of time during birth in America takes the reader back to the quiet life in India- where traditions are essential and family embodies everything. During his adventure through life, Gogol’s father reveals the significance of his son’s name- recalling a series of events that have shaped his life and will mark his destiny. Through self-identity and vivid memories, Gogol slowly comes to terms with himself and embarks on a new path- clinging on to his heritage, his father’s memories, and most importantly, his name.

The Clock Stops Ticking

“Why didn’t I learn to treat everything like it was the last time. My greatest regret was how much I believed in the future.” (Jonathan Safran Foer) 

I remember. I remember when she called. I remember hearing the phone ring exactly four times, announcing in a matter-of-fact manner “call from Grossmami”. I remember walking out of my room, downstairs, and across the kitchen to grab something to eat. I remember the chatter coming from the living room, where my mom and sister were speaking to my grandmother over the phone. I remember being irritated and not in the best of moods- not wanting to go out of my way to say a simple “hello, how are you Grossmami?”. I remember thinking I will be seeing her very soon and will have all the time in the world to mingle and tell stories. All the time in the world- as if the clock of life would never stop ticking or as if the human heart would never stop beating. I could not have been more mistaken. Within 2 weeks, 14 days, 336 hours, 20,160 minutes, 1,209,600 seconds, my grandmother’s clock took its last tick and her heart pumped for a final time. Just like that. I remember feeling my own heart swell to the size of a melon, and just like a balloon with too much helium, burst; anger, disappointment, and shame swept over me and lingered for many weeks. “Hello, how are you Grossmami?”. I remember the phone ringing, my grandmother trying to reach out to me, not realizing that it would be the last time. I remember


A Little About Me

Hey! So for starters, I preferred to be called Jess or Jessie. I find it weird being called ‘Jessica’. I feel like it doesn’t flow, but that’s just what I think.

Since my thoughts about me are all jumbled up and somewhat random, I’ll formulate some of it into bullets.

  • I love swimming. I was on the swim team throughout my high school life but I’m still contemplating joining the Baruch team though.
  • I love to eat. Nothing is better than a satisfactory meal!
  • I am a lefty. 🙂
  • I like to eat around the edges of my burger first, although I know there are no edges on burgers.
  • My favorite color is purple.
  • I like to shoot pool.
  • I love traveling, going to new places and seeing new things.

Baruch wasn’t my first choice on my list of colleges, but here I am. I was really looking forward to the full college experience and dorming life, but I guess staying in the city has its upsides as well. I love being out and I love the city and all of the lights, so maybe this experience will turn out greater than expected.

One of my best friends told me, I’m almost always either smiling or laughing and I guess it’s true. I’m looking forward to meeting the rest of you! Feel free to talk to me, I don’t bite 😀

A New Beginning

As with many of my friends, I am a first generation American. My parents immigrated from Asia to the US primarily to lead a better life. Like in Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake, my parents and I had to accustom ourselves to the American culture. Gogol, like myself, was more persistent on “fitting in” with the others kids rather than upholding his parent’s traditions.

I was born in the United States and was named Raymond at birth. Interestingly enough, I had an English name before a Chinese one. My parents explained to me that they had a long list of names. However, many of my father’s coworkers said that Raymond is a good name. Over the years, I have grown to like my name very much, unlike Gogol. It doesn’t appear too often to make it almost cliche, and appears enough that people have heard of it.

Ironically, English was my second language and I had to take ESL classes in elementary school. My parents, keen on my success, decided to hire a tutor to teach me English. I grew to become the same as every other kid on the playground. My family began celebrating American holidays as well. Much unlike Ashima and Ashoke, my parents were encouraging of assimilating with the American culture.

To this day, I have always appreciated the name that was given to me. It has never been a burden that I had to concern myself with. “For by now, he’s come to hate questions pertaining to his name, hates having constantly to explain. He hates having to tell people that it doesn’t mean anything in “in Indian” (76). I believe Gogol should appreciate his name as he discovers the significance behind it.

Raymond I remember

Bridge-Building 101

Countless first generation Americans find themselves caught between holding onto their family’s culture and assimilating into an American lifestyle. In Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake, Nikhil Ganguli demonstrates this point. Lahiri, being a first generation American herself is able to accurately express the yearnings and emotions felt by children of immigrants across the United States. I am able to relate to Nikhil’s inevitable conformity to the American culture.

My family expects me to carry on the traditions of their culture. I find some of the habits and mentalities of my parent’s culture irrelevant, and even limiting.  Chinese culture teaches introversion, keeping my feelings and emotions bottled in. During my english class this year, my teacher, Ms. Brown assigned us to read and discuss a controversial article called Paper Tigers. It discusses how Asian-Americans deal with their lives in their post-education years. In the article, Yang writes that Asians are known to be “devoid of any individuality,” and are “a mass of stifled, repressed, abused, conformist quasi-robots who simply do not matter, socially or culturally.” Yet he does not wish for people to label him as such. Ms. Brown knew this article was relevant to our class, largely composed of Asians. I rose my hand, distressed at the sight of my fellow students staring straight back at the board with blank looks. Simultaneously, I am conflicted because people others cannot understand the Asian culture. I realize the advantage of maintaining a balance of both Chinese and American values.

Growing up in an Indian household, the Indian culture is entrenched in Nikhil and Moushumi. In their Gramercy Park apartment, they rarely eat Indian food. “But sometimes, on a Sunday, both craving the food they’d grown up eating, they ride the train out to Queens and have brunch at Jackson Diner, piling their plates with tandoori chicken and pakoras and kabobs” (229). Usually when my stomach growls, Chinese food hardly comes to mind. Instead, I’ll go to my favorite French cafĂ© or burger joint. Yet like the two of them, when my parents home for dinner, I’ll whip up some ginger-fried rice and top it off with a fried egg, sunny side up.

Making strawberry soufflé at home.

“Good” Ol’ Days

Gogol Ganguli, the protagonist of Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake, contends with an overbearing sense of nonconformity, chiefly prompted by his anomalous name. Plagued by “lifelong unhappiness” and “mental instability” (100), Gogol legally adopts the name Nikhil before attending university. Nikhil’s parents, unimpressed and discontent with the change, reluctantly allow their son to assume a new identity. Most know me as Mark Stone, but few are aware of my former name, a name I could barely spell, let alone pronounce.
I was born Mark Jason Stanciulescu on August 10, 1993. I vaguely remember a particular session of preschool when I was asked to spell my name. Albeit sloppy, I spelled MARK with resounding ease. Dejected, yet undeterred, I attempted to spell STANCIULESCU; the result, from what I recall, looked like STENKULESCO. I began to weep uncontrollably as my caretakers silently shook their heads. Moments earlier, the same caretakers praised a girl named Julia Grant, admiring her ability and promise to spell. I thought to myself, “How could you NOT spell JULIA GRANT correctly?”
Whenever attendance was called, I would cringe. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, Ms. Soyfer decided to refer to each of us by our first and last names. She never pronounced my name correctly; companions would snicker, I would avert my eyes, and Ms. Soyfer would briskly move on.
I resented my last name, its intolerable length, and its cacophonic form. My parents, unlike the Gangulis, had no qualms about “Americanizing”. I stood before them and pleaded my case, highlighting the hitches of Stanciulescu. The next year, I was known as Mark Stone.
Case in point, not everyone is pleased with the name that he/she is given. Accompanying his wife to a nonsensical dinner party, Gogol states, “I think that human beings should be allowed to name themselves when they turn 18.” “Until then, pronouns” (245). I couldn’t agree more.