prime Fall Issue 2016 by Daily Bruin

BY THE DAILY BRUIN

FALL 2016

more than a

park

An deeper look at the Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Gardens. PAGE 18

ART

Take a look at some of the street performers in Santa Monica. PAGE 6

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See animals from around the world at the WIldlife Learning Center.

PAGE 10

LIFESTYLE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

Hike up to a panoramic view at the Wisdom Tree. PAGE 46

of s n a hum

ica n o m anta

e r u t l cu

O TABLE

art

TENTS

F CON

me o h d l i 10 a w than a park e 18 mor e my mind tsid u o 6 2 ad o r b a l l 31 a e l y t s ree e t f a u li h jos : e s d i n u u g b y t n i 36 c ipe: cinnamo garden 42 rec : eggshell herb ree 44 DIY LA: wisdom t H YE e A k N i N h

O BY H PHOT R E V CO

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letter from the editors Dear readers,

Thank you for picking up our first issue of the school year. As the new year starts with three new editors, we want to show you a different side of Los Angeles, the city we all know and love. Since the three of us are from outside Southern California, we pushed our limits beyond the concrete sidewalks of Los Angeles in this edition. We want to show LA through our eyes and some of the little ways it can reflect the great outdoors instead of the bustling city it is. Some of these little oases are as close as UCLA’s botanical garden or just a short drive away to Joshua Tree National Park. Two of our writers take us across the country and abroad with stories in Washington, D.C., and Rome. We visited a wildlife center and learned how to make an herb garden. There are personal stories of struggle and adventure. We hope you enjoy our exploration of Los Angeles and beyond. With love,

Maryrose Kulick

Hayley McAvoy [ prime editor ] Maryrose Kulick [ prime content editor ] Youngjun Park [ prime art director ] [ writers ] Lindsay Bribiescas, Jessica Chan, Owen Emerson, Claire Fahy, Natalie Green, Jintak Han, Hayley McAvoy, Maryrose Kulick, Lindsay Weinberg [ photographers ] Miriam Bribiesca, Owen Emerson, Jennifer Hu, Maryrose Kulick, Hayley McAvoy, Hannah Ye, Aubrey Yeo, Austin Yu [ illustrators ] Valeree Catangay, Juliette Le Saint [ graphic artists ] Alice Lin [ designers ] Umbreen Ali, Emaan Baqai, Megan Le, Isabelle Roy, LeAnn Woo, Michael Zhang Derek Yen [ copy chief ] Hannah Brezack [ assistant copy chief ] [ slot editors ] Anna Floersch, Kristen Hardy, Nikki Harris, Katie Kong, Sang Ho Lee, Alexis Lim, Simran Vatsa

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Howard Huang [ online editor ] Paulina Lei [ assistant online editor ]

Youngjun Park

[ daily bruin ] Tanner Walters [ editor in chief ] Anjishnu Das [ managing editor ] Emaan Baqai [ digital managing editor ] Jeremy Wildman [ business manager ] [ assistant managers ] Caroline Dillon, Peyton Sherwood [ advertising sales ] Sarah Sanders, Jessica Behmanesh, Danielle Renteria, Danielle Merrihew, Ali Cazel, Liviya James, Michaela Milesi, Michael Hess [ classified sales ] Lucy Mullin, Lizzie Ioannou [ production ] Tori Smith, Jimmer Young Abigail Goldman [ editorial adviser ] The Daily Bruin (ISSN 1080-5060) is published and copyrighted by the ASUCLA Communications Board. All rights are reserved. Reprinting of any material in this publication without the written permission of the Communications Board is strictly prohibited. The ASUCLA Communications Board fully supports the University of California’s policy on non-discrimination. The student media reserve the right to reject or modify advertising whose content discriminates on the basis of ancestry, color, national origin, race, religion, disability, age, sex or sexual orientation. The ASUCLA Communications Board has a media grievance procedure for resolving complaints against any of its publications. For a copy of the complete procedure, contact the publications office at 118 Kerckhoff Hall. All inserts that are printed in the Daily Bruin are independently paid publications and do not reflect the views of the Editorial Board or the staff. To request a reprint of any photo appearing in the Daily Bruin, contact the photo desk at 310-8252828 or email photo@dailybruin.com.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

Hayley McAvoy

humans of santa monica

WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY

JINTAK HAN

On any given day in Santa Monica, musicians, acrobats and other performers draw crowds to their sounds and movements. They can be found on the pier near crashing Pacific waves or along Third Street’s cement curbs, providing visitors and shoppers with a walking tour of live urban art. Here are a few of their faces.

“

I juggle, I do magic, I ride unicycles, I tumble, so I do stunts in film, but mostly street performing. I’ve been doing this for over 15 years. I do this because not a lot of people do it. And I love these people. I love these people, you know. But it’s hard to reach them. Hard to just say, ‘Hi, I love you.’ But if you do a street show, and they see you’re awesome, then they look up to you. ... So I cultivated my art, my craft, and that allowed me a platform to be able to communicate with different people, and as I learn other languages,

PEOPLE RESPECT ME MORE.” - eric nash

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@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

“

I AM WHO I AM. IT’S ALL ABOUT THE MUSIC ANYWAY.”

“

I do a lot of stuff that most people would look at me and go, ‘This guy’s on drugs,’ or ‘This guy’s got a death wish.’ But it’s kind of a little strange way of celebrating my life. I like to look death in the face. ... The world out here is a gym, so I train, push myself every day. Mostly I work on just shutting fear off. Just shut that fear switch off. And when you shut that fear off, all the magic happens. The whole world’s so fear-based. When you actually learn to shut it off, you get that adrenaline, and

ADRENALINE IS THE KEY TO SUCCESS.” -kane serfin

“All my life, since I was 10 years old, I’ve been writing music. And I’ve been traveling around the world for the last 10 years, all over Europe, South America, everywhere you think of. It’s amazing how much more singer-songwriter vintage music is appreciated in other places than here in the States. You know, when I play in Europe, it’s like there’s a silence everywhere I play. People would just (say), ‘It’s an American singer-songwriter! It’s Bob Dylan!’ Over here, it’s like you’re lost in a crowd of noise.”

- brad rogers ART

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

â&#x20AC;&#x153;

Yarnell Street seems like any other suburban neighborhood in the San Fernando Valley.

wild home a

he east side of the Sylmar, California, road features two one-story homes â&#x20AC;&#x201C; a blue-trimmed white house with a minivan out front and an orange house with a hedge and American flag. But on the west side of the street, behind a claycolored fence, wild animals thrive in their oasis. The fence leads down a dirt driveway lined with silver olive trees, the black fruits of which lie smashed at our feet, pits oozing out of the skin. At the end of the drive, a plastic iguana sits on an old tree trunk, foreshadowing the critters to come. From Zeus the blind western screech-owl to Lola the two-toed sloth, animals at the Wildlife Learning Center provide the public with interactive education about wildlife. The wild-born animals are too injured or dependent on people to be rereleased, and the domestic creatures could not survive in the wilderness. Wildlife Learning Center co-founders Paul Hahn and UCLA alumnus David Riherd have been rescuing the animals to teach people about biology for more than 20 years.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

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WRITTEN BY LINDSAY WEINBERG PHOTOS BY MIRIAM BRIBIESCA

“

that’s when we immediately hit it off that we

were both animal nuts.”

a natural connection H

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ahn and Riherd grew up in different states, but both near pond ecosystems with animals such as fish, snakes and salamanders. As young children, they each spent their free time exploring ponds and forests, they told me, sitting at a picnic table in the Wildlife Learning Center. Two scarlet macaws were perched in the distance, dappled in sunlight. Growing up in the Midwest, Hahn ventured into the woods and lakes with his outdoorsy family during frequent camping and fishing trips. He created his own animal classes in second grade, inviting the neighborhood kids to the woods and showing them schematic diagrams to teach about morphology, the structures of different species. Flies buzzed around us and kids babbled in the background as Riherd described his childhood in Altadena, California, at the base of the San Gabriel mountains. He lived near a canyon with close proximity to hiking trails. Every summer, his parents took him to the Sierra Nevada mountains. His exposure to nature led to his interest in animals, he said. As a child, he caught snakes, volunteered at a local nature center and collected diverse pets – dogs, snakes, turtles, lizards, geese, ducks, goats, chickens, rabbits and pheasants. “I wasn’t one of those kids that got an animal and expected my parents to take care of it,” Riherd said. Though he grew up reading animal books for fun, Riherd went on to study sociology at UCLA. To this day he doesn’t know why he didn’t major in biology. “I think I was just kind of a late bloomer and didn’t really realize what I wanted to do,” Riherd said. “But yeah I know, it made perfect sense to be a biology major.” Riherd decided to study molecular biology in graduate

school at Cal State Northridge. He met Hahn in a chemistry class. “One of us mentioned something about ponds and the other was like, ‘Oh my god, you like ponds? I like ponds too!’ and everyone was thinking, ‘OK these guys are geeking out,’” Hahn said. “That’s when we immediately hit it off that we were both animal nuts.” The students had a few small pets, like snakes and frogs. They kept the creatures at Riherd’s apartment or in Hahn’s duplex’s garage, which he converted into a place to store tanks for the animals. The teaching began when Riherd’s friend, a teacher, asked if he could bring the animals to her class and talk about biology. She enjoyed the lesson, Riherd said, and introduced him to the school enrichment coordinator for the district. The biologists then began traveling to about 12 elementary schools in Palos Verdes, California, where each school had a set day of the week to be visited for a three- to four-week period. “One of our selling points was, ‘Hey, you’re learning about this from biologists,’ whereas in the classroom you may have a teacher that doesn’t have a science background at all,” Riherd said. The more they taught, the more pets they acquired from parents who, for example, no longer wanted their pet turtle. The business was outreach, operating out of a van. Hahn and Riherd began hiring other biologists to help teach, including UCLA alumni like veterinarian Susie Garity. More than a decade ago, while in graduate school, Hahn and Riherd signed a contract with the Los Angeles Unified School District to visit about five Title I schools a day, five

days a week, for four to six weeks. The funding was available for Title I schools, which are failing to meet academic standards and whose students come from low-income families, Riherd said. “Unlike many of us who are privileged to grow up in areas or have parents that could facilitate natural experience, a lot of these urban kids have never been out of the middle of the city, never been to the zoo, never been to the beach,” Hahn said. Teaching is special for Hahn because his lesson could be a child’s first interaction with nature and inspire him or her to pursue the field. “If they’re a biologist deep down inside, and they’ve never been exposed to the amazingness of nature, all they would see is, ‘Oh that’s a difficult subject,’” he said. In October 2007, the organization moved into a permanent residence in Sylmar while it was still nothing but an old olive grove. They wanted to be close to Los Angeles since they were teaching for LAUSD. The property was previously used for heavy agriculture, so the zoning permitted keeping animals on the lot. “I was there when everything was just dirt,” said thenco-manager Garity. Hahn and Riherd built everything on the single-acre property. Riherd planted each of the approximately 1,000 plants. Hahn carved the wooden signs that label different enclosures. Both biologists dug out trenches to lay the plumbing and electricity. They held their opening party in April 2008, about six months later. But that same year, they lost their contract with LAUSD because of the economic recession. With their biggest source of funding gone, they quickly decided to open their center to the public and create the on-site education program it is today. By investing their own money and receiving help from family, they survived the recession despite bumpy years spending money on their bills, the lease and the enclosures. Money remains the most difficult part of the business, Hahn said, since it costs $2,000 a day to run the Wildlife Learning Center. However, they get some financial help from high-profile donors, including actress Betty White, who discovered the center while filming and has since donated a veterinary suite. When the actress visits, she’ll sit on the picnic

tables and the owners bring her animals. “What kind of animals does she like?” “All of them. She’ll hold them in and pull them into her chest and her neck, and she closes her eyes and just swaddles it and kisses on it. We’re all just kind of like, ‘Betty, do you want another animal yet?’” Hahn said. She even kisses the monitor lizard. Actress Julia Roberts and her family also ventured in for a visit, sitting in the office playing with baby monkeys for two hours. Riherd stopped to look up at a squirrel. Hahn said the indigenous animals add to the atmosphere. “You kind of feel like you’re in the woods, or at least not in LA,” he said. “If you saw, this is kind of surrounded by neighborhoods and industrial area, so it’s kind of a little oasis.” Right on cue, a train tooted its low horn, drowning out the sparrows’ chirping for a moment before the serenity was restored.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

- paul hahn

“

if i didn’t end up at the wildlife learning center and specifically didn’t meet tag, i probably wouldn’t really know what - susie garity love is.”

saving each other I

t was just like she had never left. When Susie Garity came home from veterinary school every eight months, her first stop was the Wildlife Learning Center. The owners gave her the keys and she went straight into the serval enclosure, picked up Kodi and held the lynx like a baby. Garity graduated from UCLA in 2005 with a degree in ecology, behavior and evolution. She knew she wanted to work with animals, so she applied to the Wildlife Learning Center after seeing a job listing online. By the time Garity left for veterinary school in 2009, she was a co-manager who had fallen in love with the cats at the nonprofit organization. Garity grew up in a broken home in the Inland Empire, she said. She had a rough life, and her cats were her only real friends, namely her orange childhood felines September and December. “I would say I’ve always preferred animals to humans,” Garity said. “When you grew up and you don’t really know what love is, it’s hard for you to trust people.” She thus had an inclination to work with cats at the Wildlife Learning Center when she started as a wildlife biologist and educator. Her job included primarily animal care – husbandry and training – and conducting education and outreach programs at schools and parties. A few months after Garity started working, the center acquired Tag the serval, a spotted African cat. He was distrusting and required a lot of patience. “He wasn’t the friendliest of critters, and I kind of decided I was really going to get to know him and work with

him,” Garity said. The goal was to have him be an educator and ambassador animal, so she had to train him to walk on a leash. Though he eventually cooperated, his initial response was to roll on the ground, claw, bite or try to play – and wild animals’ play can quickly turn into aggression, she said. Garity’s other favorite cat is the lynx Kodi, who she raised since he was 6 weeks old. Kodi was shy at first, but she stepped up as surrogate mom. She took him home with her at night for several months because he needed nursing care, and there was no one at the center over night. It was an opportunity to bond, and since Kodi wasn’t weaned yet, she worked on hand-feeding him and teaching him not be aggressive toward food. Over a process of several weeks, she worked up to putting a collar on him, first placing the collar near him, clicking it near him, laying it on his neck and finally putting it on. Garity spent extra time hanging out with the cats, sitting outside their exhibits so they would get used to her and accept her. They reminded her a little of herself, because she understood their distrust in people. “I’m more reserved, too,” she said. “I got them.” Both Tag and Kodi were certainly challenging, she laughed through tears. “If I didn’t end up at the Wildlife Learning Center and specifically didn’t meet Tag, I probably wouldn’t really know what love is,” she said. “I definitely love those cats. We saved each other.”

Where in the world?

A breakdown of where the animals at the Wildlife Learning Center originate from.

Europe

4 animals

North America 18 animals

Asia

7 animals

Africa 12 animals Central & South America 14 animals

Australia 6 animals

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SOURCE: Wildlife Learning Center. Graphic reporting by Maryrose Kulick, Daily Bruin senior staff. Graphic by Alice Lin, Daily Bruin senior staff.

stepping into the island jungle W

e toured the Wildlife Learning Center on a sunny October day, beginning by the picnic tables under an overhang decorated with twinkle lights. Small children ran by screaming, “Cheetahs!” after seeing the serval exhibit. The nearest enclosure housed Nanuck the Arctic fox, who sometimes chases her red fox co-inhabitant. Before she was rescued, she was destined to become a fur coat. The lemurs, which sometimes sit in the sun and meditate, came from an Indiana zoo. Porcupines munched on carrots and chunks of watermelon rinds in their tin-roofed enclosure. Two blond boys leaned on the rope outside, waving to a baby porcupine waddling behind the chain link fence. Hahn and Riherd led us inside the exhibit, which guests can enter during onsite interactive tours. We noticed a porcupine climbing up the fence baring its orange teeth. “That’s rust,” Riherd said. CULTURE

Hahn handed us leafy ficus branches to feed to the quilled creatures. They stood up on their hind legs and curiously leaned toward our outstretched arms. More chubby porcupines wobbled to us like Winnie the Pooh. Hahn reached down to pet one in a front-to-back motion to avoid an unfortunate encounter with the quills on its lower back. Riherd said petting their straw-like fur makes him too itchy. The baby porcupine, which was born at the Wildlife Learning Center, stepped on my feet and gently lifted its weight onto my leg and began climbing me like a tree. Its claws – luckily relatively dull – firmly pressed into my shin before Hahn picked it up by its two front paws and pulled it away. “Aren’t they charismatic and awesome?” Hahn said. The founders started listing the names of the spiny animals – Walter, Betty, Alan, Freddy, Gerdy and Gus Gus. “Like Cinderella?” I said. “Yeah, that’s where it came from,” Riherd said. We moved further through the center past the big-eared

fennec foxes toward the bald eagles, which were injured in the wild. As for the alligator named Fluffy, he lived in a bathtub before and now basks in the Sylmar sun. “He doesn’t look like it, but he’s fast,” Hahn said, looking at the reptile’s dark unfocused eyes. “He’s looking at us.” They explained that alligators whip their powerful tails to protect themselves and their babies. “Which is rare in reptiles,” Riherd added. We moved closer to the front of the property toward the prairie dog habitat. The furry animals bobbed up and down, jumping against the glass and making a screeching sound while trying to burrow. “I want one!” my friend said. “No you don’t,” they said at the same time. “They’re biters.” The tortoises are friendlier and don’t bite – as long as

- susie garity

you don’t visit them with your toenails painted red, resembling strawberries. Back at the red picnic tables, we passed by the perched red macaws. They are strongly bonded and fell in love, Hahn said. He likens them to an old married couple. Our last stop on the tour was the reptile house. A Brazilian rainbow boa was cozied up in its glass tank. Nearby lives a Burmese python that’s frequently compared to the one in Britney Spears’ 2001 MTV Video Music Awards performance. They also have a giant bullfrog the size of a football. “Do you know what we feed it?” Riherd said. “Mice.” The founders took us into the back feeding room, filled with shelves of dishes and white boards with feeding scheduled laid out; “a.m.” schedules were written in blue marker and “p.m.” in green. The boards listed the different animals – Boomer, Sage, Newton, Zeus – with the appropriate grams of food next to them. White bins full of biscuits lined the wooden floor adjacent to freezers full of mice and rats for the carnivores. One shelf stored buckets of live mealworms and chirping crickets. A shelf above contained enrichment spices like Trader Joe’s cinnamon that get sprinkled into the habitats; the new scents simulate a real, investigable environment. The top shelf held empty toilet paper rolls and a Coca-Cola cardboard box, in which the biologists hide food to provide more challenges for their animals like they would encounter in the wild. We left the reptile house and met two final animals. “You’ll like meeting Boomer,” Riherd said. “Would you mind bringing me the Gila and a pair of gloves?” Hahn asked an employee. “Come on buddy, “ Riherd said, coaxing Boomer the lynx out of his enclosure. “Wanna come out?” The black-tailed cat was bred for the pet trade in Oregon but went unsold. Hahn brought out their Gila monster, a lizard that was an illegal pet before it found a new home at the center. “Can you see his tongue?” a mom asked her kids, who were examining the Gila. Hahn and Riherd never imagined when they started bringing their van of animals to classrooms that now they’d be running a nonprofit organization with about 100 visitors a day. They’ve delivered about 24,000 presentations so far, Hahn said. The most important part of the Wildlife Learning Center is the education component, Garity said. She hopes the animals can impact children and get the respect the critters need. “It’s important for people to be able to get up close and personal and be able to really understand where these animals come from,” Garity said. “Animals are life-changing if you kind of let them in. ... They give you something, and they touch your soul in a way that changes you.”

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

“

animals are life-changing if you kind of let them in. ”

MORE THAN A PARK WRITTEN BY MARYROSE KULICK ILLUSTRATIONS BY VALEREE CATANGAY PHOTOS BY MARYROSE KULICK

& HANNAH YE

Thick red bark twists around the treeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s core, stretching tall toward the forest canopy. Its rust-colored body is reminiscent of its cousins, the coastal redwood and the giant sequoia, which comprise the tallest and largest trees on earth. Fossils of the dawn redwood had been found strewn across North America in wide abundance, but scientists thought it to be long extinct. In 1944, however, one tree was discovered in China, revealing an isolated range where the species lived. Seeds have since been dispersed around the world. One now grows adjacent to a dense cluster of bamboo and a bench built in honor of a man who loved to play cricket.

“

when you go into a garden, things change.”

(plants are) the backdrop of everything from nature to cities

And they all have a unique story.

”

-philip rundel

hilip Rundel, director of the Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Garden, likes plants with good stories. Tucked between Tiverton Drive and Hilgard Avenue, a vine-covered chain-linked fence defines the boundaries of the 7.5-acre botanical garden, which cultivates more than 3,000 of those stories. Rundel said he tries to take a walk through the garden at least once a day. “It’s always fun to discover new things,” he said. Sitting at a picnic table, Rundel took a sip of his Diet Coke. Signs posted near the entrance of the garden warn visitors not to feed the squirrels. The leaves of a Schefflera elegantissima provide shade over the patio. Now in his 48th year of teaching biology and fourth year leading the botanical garden, Rundel said he is still learning new things every year. The garden has received many of its plants from local nurseries or other botanical gardens. Occasionally, Rundel said, they will salvage plants from nearby buildings that are in line to be demolished. Community members will sometimes donate plants they can no longer take care of. The dawn redwood’s seeds came directly from China. The garden now hosts a vast collection of plants from biomes that range from the desert to the tropical rainforest. “What’s been exciting for me as a plant person, is this garden is full of subtropical things from Australia and southern Africa and Southeast Asia,” Rundel said. “There are a ton of things that I’ve never seen before.” Much of Rundel’s work, he said, is focused on making

the garden accessible for a wide community of students, staff and locals in terms of education and providing a wild space within the urban. Occasionally, a siren blares or a car horn blasts. Hammers and saws chime loudly behind the patio, as the La Kretz Garden Pavilion undergoes construction – a building which will serve as a new visitor center and classroom. From within the garden’s fences, however, one can barely see the surrounding rectangular buildings underneath the arboreal canopies. “Physiologically and psychologically, when you go into a garden, things change,” Rundel said. “Your blood pressure goes down, your brain waves smooth out, your stress hormone levels go down.” Evan Meyer, assistant director of the botanical garden, arrived at the garden in October after holding a position at the Rancho Santa Ana Botanic Garden, which specializes in native California plants. With this background, he is currently working to revitalize UCLA’s own native section. The wide variety of plants as a whole, he said, is what made the botanical garden stand out in his eyes as a setting to teach about biodiversity and conservation. “The vast majority of life comes from the energy produced by the sun that is captured by leaves. ... They’re the fabric of all life on our earth,” Meyer said. “There are so many different plants that once you become interested in them, it just makes the world a more interesting place.” Meyer described himself as the plant equivalent of a car lover. When driving down the freeway, he said, someone

might be able to identify a Mustang and describe the inner workings of its engine. For him, it’s identifying a Mexican fan palm while walking through Westwood and being able to describe its origins in Baja California. Meyer said he’s always seeking out the wild landscape, whether it’s deep in the Amazon rainforest or in the sidewalk cracks of Santa Monica. “(Plants are) the backdrop of everything from nature to cities,” he said. “And they all have a unique story.” The Mildred E. Mathias Botanical Garden is open seven days a week to visitors ranging from art students to biology faculty to local community members. On any given day, students can be found scribbling in notebooks or parents can be seen having lunch with their children. “Some people might walk through here and think, ‘Oh, it’s just like a nice park,’” Meyer said. “But it’s much more than that.” The staff responsible for the daily maintenance of the garden, Meyer said, comprises a group of five people, other than himself, who can recite Latin names of plants, know how much water an obscure palm needs to grow, fix irrigation pipes and run tractors and chainsaws. Many have been working at the garden for over a decade or more. “It’s not because we pay them big bucks,”

EVAN MEYER

PHILIP RUNDEL

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Before the La Kretz Garden Pavilion could start construction, all of the plants in the area had to be relocated. Burchellia bubalina, a wild pomegranate native to South Africa, was one of these plants many gardeners thought to be too large to transplant at the time. But Paul Galuska wanted to try. About seven months after uprooting and replanting, the shrub-like tree had lost every single leaf on its branches. Some told the gardener to take it out – it was dead. But he persevered, trimming back the branches drastically and giving it daily pep talks. Now, nine months later, several clusters of bright green leaves are emerging from woody stalks. “That plant and I have a special bond,” Galuska said.

PAUL GALUSKA

JOAN MUENCH

he botanical garden office is located on the first floor of the Botany Building, situated on the north end of the garden. Yellow Post-it notes label bookshelves stacked full of texts related to botany and gardening. Buckets sit on the floor full of stakes and green species placards, and cubbies hold a collection of tools and gardening gloves. Meanwhile, a potted plant soaks up sun by the window. Joan Muench, senior garden manager and volunteer coordinator, sat in a swivel chair with a gardening knife strapped to her belt. A baseball cap with an embroidered logo for the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden rested upon a cluttered stack of papers by her side. While Muench studied graphic design at UCLA, she had never heard of the garden that existed on the southern end of campus. Her career there first began on a Sunday in 1995. She had been taking a UCLA Extension course in horticulture when she met with the garden manager and asked to volunteer. “There’s something very similar about plants to art,” Muench said. “There’s color, there’s form, there’s shape, there’s design.” As a graphic designer, Muench said she designed brochures, retail catalogs, packaging for shoes, pots, pans, linens and more. The garden itself has its own kind of design, she said, as many of the plants are broken up into sections according to family or geographic location. When planting new species, Muench and the other gardeners take into account how tall or wide the plant will grow in relation to other plants nearby. Muench said the process and the plants have very therapeutic qualities. “I think of our garden as sort of a little oasis in the midst of LA chaos,” she said. On a day-to-day basis, she said the gardeners’ tasks are always different – they range from accessioning new plants to pruning, weeding and raking. Prior to volunteer days on Tuesdays and Fridays, Muench said she walks through the garden to pinpoint jobs for helpers to do. Most recently the work has gone toward planting more than 70 new plants in the California native plants section. Galuska walked into the office then. “Here’s one of our staff, right off the bat,” Muench said. “This is Paul. ... He started as a volunteer too, like me.” Galuska was introduced to the botanical garden three years ago, but his affinity for plants began while helping his father maintain his rose gardens at their New York home.

“Me and my two brothers were the natural labor force for him,” Galuska said. “And so we – out of osmosis – learned a lot of stuff.” He’d always been one for flowers, he said, and he continued to cultivate roses, zinnias and others that his daughters would cut, decorate with ribbons and sell in roadside stands. Galuska was trained in the Master Gardener Program at the University of Connecticut and eventually came to own his own landscaping business, before leaving the East Coast for California when his wife took a job with UCLA Health. While he lives in an apartment in Santa Monica now, he said he keeps a balcony garden and works part time at the botanical garden, maintaining the grounds, helping with volunteers and talking to his Burchellia bubalina, which grows alongside the garden’s service road. “Did I tell you that we found a drainage pipe?” Galuska asked Muench. “So that’s where the leak is?” “It’s where the water’s coming from,” he said. “It’s probably picking up water from uphill somewhere, so we still haven’t found the leak.” “This is what we have to deal with,” Muench said with a chuckle. Soon thereafter, senior nursery technician John Cluff entered the office, a small Chihuahua trailing at his heels. “And that is Helena, his little dog who is here every day with us,” Muench said. “She’s the mascot for our garden.” Cluff calls her Sasquatch. While Helena has been riding in her owner’s green garden cart for nearly nine years, Cluff started as a volunteer at the botanical garden 22 years ago. Rather than work-

ing with the plants, he said he is more attracted to the landscape, spending most of his time building pathways, bridges, water features and more. “I think I could stand anywhere in the garden and see something I’ve worked on,” Cluff said. “I like creating a space that people can enjoy.” Henry Varney, another senior nursery technician, has likewise held a long tenure with the garden, starting his relationship with the space as a student worker while attending UCLA in the 1960s. After a break, he returned to the garden again in 1992. “Really my whole life to one extent or another I’ve been doing gardening,” Varney said. He said his mother took pictures of him as a toddler digging up the plants she had just planted in her garden. Occasionally, Varney will still dig up plants, but only if necessary. “I somehow gravitated towards some of the physical labor that no one else wanted to do,” he said. “(I) was digging out stumps and things like that in various places in the garden.” For Varney, the botanical garden provides a natural space not really accessible in the rest of UCLA’s campus. “Little gardens, little patches of grass, a tree here between two buildings, OK,” he said. “But here you can actually walk through stuff. There’s dirt, it smells right and you can be part of nature.” Muench expressed similar sentiments. “I just like working with the staff and being outdoors,” she said. Catching Cluff’s eye across the room, she raised her voice: “I love working with the staff.” “Don’t print that,” Cluff said. The room shared a laugh.

JOHN CLUFF HENRY VARNEY

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

CULTIVATING THE STORY

SPREADING THE WORD For Hercules’ 11th labor, three golden apples had to be stolen from the Hesperides, daughters of Atlas. Ladon, a dragon with 100 heads, guarded the apples but did not survive his match with the demigod. When Hercules slayed the dragon, its blood spilled over the land, and from it rose trees with dozens of branches resembling twisted snake-like necks with sap the deep red color of blood. Native to the Canary Islands and the Atlas Mountains, the dragon tree grows in the sun-exposed desert section of the botanical garden, and its mythological wounds still seep through its bark.

orothy Jewell’s bench sits underneath the shade of the dragon tree. While she was enrolled at UCLA more than 10 years ago, she would often come to this spot to eat her lunch and fend off hungry squirrels. Today, she serves as one of many docents in the Mildred. E. Mathias Botanical Garden, and she often brings visitors to this spot to tell them the tale of the dragon tree. The docent program at the botanical garden is comprised of a group of volunteer naturalists that lead interpretive tours through the garden and teach people of all ages about its immense diversity and ecological intricacies. A woman sat a picnic table with her son, who worked diligently on his spelling homework. Wendy Morris, the director of programs and tours, said hello and asked to join them. Maggie Nelson, Morris’ assistant, picked up a fallen leaf from the table and remarked on its pretty yellow and orange color. Another docent, Michelle Lee, a fifth-year

“

It’s fun also to just take 10 minutes to walk around and feel like you’ve been traveling.” -wendy morris

geography/environmental studies and ecology and evolutionary biology student, identified the oak species without bothering to glance at the tree’s placard. Each docent, Morris said, is trained to give a program with content of their choosing that functions as a reinforcement of Mildred Mathias’ legacy. Mathias, the namesake of the botanical garden, filled the garden with plants meant especially to create an educational space for the public. “She understood ... that ethnobotany, the study of medicinal plants, is hugely important,” Morris said. “And as human populations spread out more and take up more land and plants are cut down, you lose things with great potential before they are recognized. So I like the idea that we’re preserving things here that might turn out to be important.” With more than 3,000 species available to present on, Morris said the only challenge of creating a program is having enough time.

DOROTHY JEWELL, MAGGIE NELSON, WENDY MORRIS & MICHELLE LEE

Nelson said she likes teaching the children and telling them stories about her own childhood memories. “I tell them when I was their age, my teacher brought in a vase with these flowers, and I was so drawn to them,” Nelson said. “I could just remember the shapes. They were so unique to me. And then she told us the name – birds of paradise – and I remember thinking as a little child, ‘That is the most perfect name they could have come up with for a flower.’” Oftentimes, the docent program is asked to present specific tours. One third-grade class visits the garden annually for a unit on deserts. Once, local physicians requested a tour specifically of plants that cause allergies. “Remember that tour with the blind fellow from England?” Jewell asked. “Wendy and I, we went around the garden thinking of things that smelled and things that you could feel.” Because the garden is so diverse, Morris said the changing landscape is very teachable. Just moving from the

desert section, where the sunshine is full, down the slope by the stream, the temperature difference is highly noticeable and allows for a tangible experience that can explain local adaptations, she said. “It’s fun also to just take 10 minutes to walk around and feel like you’ve been traveling,” Morris said. Lee in turn likes to teach her visitors about the interconnectivity some plants share with the landscape – bromeliads, large and often flashy tropical plants, for instance, provide a food source for capuchin monkeys, a place for frogs to lay eggs and a home for a variety of insects. “These plants are just so integrated in the ecosystem,” Lee said. “They provide the base of everything.” When giving a talk to children, Nelson said she always asks how the garden makes them feel. “I want them to really want to come back,” Nelson said. “That this is just the very beginning in their experience of what nature is and what an important role it can play in our lives.”

MIND OUTSIDE MY

WRITTEN BY OWEN EMERSON PHOTO BY JENNIFER HU

Did I remember to take my pill last night? How do I look? How is this day going to go? My shoes crunch over snow as I walk toward the cliff. How many miles do I have to hike today? What do my friends think of me? I wonder what weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re eating for breakfast. I move past trees weighed down by blankets of snow. Is my camera OK? What if the cold is too much? I think I need a new one. What am I going to do after high school? Will college be OK? I REACH THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF AND STOP. alf Dome stares right at me on the mountain across. The campsite and forest surrounding me is covered by fresh snow. The air is silent, and my mind goes blank. I breathe deeply, taking in the cold, fresh air and release it in a visible,

ephemeral cloud. The only quick, audible noise comes from my hands releasing the camera shutter for a picture. All my worries and thoughts are forgotten, ideas and opinions lost, angers and frustrations disappeared.

CULTURE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016 2015

linical depression runs deep on my mother’s side of the family. My grandmother suffers from it, and my mom underwent therapy, so it made sense that it would be passed on to either my sister or myself. It hit me, and it hit hard. Thoughts of sadness, worry and fatigue suction onto my brain and won’t let go. I’ve had days where my thought process was so controlled by negative emotions that it no longer felt that I was controlling my body, like a dementor squeezing all happiness and care from me. At first, I hated the outdoors. I was dragged out on tiring walks with my family and climbed up never-ending mountains in Maine that only made my knees hurt and body ache. But that ache turned bearable as my body grew stronger, and after years of adventurous travels to different environments, I saw more of the world and loved it more. I stood out from most of my high school friends, who had never gone camping and weren’t used to the experiences of summiting mountains or hiking through forests. During a vacation in high school with my family, we hiked through Coyote Buttes North near the border of Utah and Arizona when we began hiking through a series of petrified sand dunes. I walked alone into the dunes, immersed in silence and surrounded by walls shifting in shape. Reds, oranges and yellows were all naturally painted into the delicate and fragile sand walls. Seeing the incredible beauty of what lay in front, all my problems seemed minute and incomparable to the greater sense of wonder that the world and my environment offered. This feeling of being overpowered by nature shook my emotions to their core and made me realize the true importance and purpose of living. The summer before my freshman year of college, I went on a weeklong backpacking trip into Tuolumne Meadows in Yosemite with Outdoor Adventures, a group within UCLA Recreation that leads UCLA students on backpacking and camping trips. During one of our hikes, we stopped by a waterfall to take a dip.

I wanted to be more adventurous, so I started climbing up the mountain of boulders that the waterfall ran down. As I carefully stretched my legs and arms up each slippery surface, I slowly made it to the top. Perched on the head, I looked down at the water rushing in and out of the giant wall of rock crevices I had just scaled. I was in complete awe of how I had conquered the feat without falling, but even more excited to see what was below me. Many of the guides and students had seen my inspirational solo journey, and followed in my footsteps. After everyone had climbed to me, we all looked out over the lake and expanse of forest that laid in the distance. From the flow of water to the grass meadows and mountain ridges beyond, it was like a scene out of a painting. And it wasn’t just the landscape that moved me, but the people I was with. They had

all shared the same daring vision of adventure to scale the climb and join me for some fun at the top. Sunbathing on rocks in Joshua Tree, taking deep inhales of air from under the giant sequoias looming over me, Half Dome’s presence catapulting my mind into a state of awe and searing sunset hikes in Idaho replaced my thoughts with sensorial dopamine. My mind was so taken over by the beauty and groundbreaking feelings of being in nature, that I was no longer Owen Emerson, but a singular being freely existing and knowing no boundaries. This was the ultimate therapy to my affliction, a way to wipe my mind of the noise inside and replace it with Mother Nature.

I took my pill, but I didn’t need it. I looked amazing. The day was great. I never recorded how far I traveled. My friends were always there for me. Breakfast was delicious. My camera was fine. The cold was sensational. AND LIFE IS GOOD.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

is pleased to announce the new

Bruin Health Pharmacy

COMING FALL 2016 Ackerman

ALL

ABROAD

Union

New, Expanded Space More Convenient Location Same, Personalized Care

This fall, two Daily Bruin staffers traded in a quarter at UCLA for an education abroad, joining the ranks of thousands of students each year. From wandering the aromatic streets of Rome, to hustling around fast-paced Washington, D.C., both found a unique flavor in their respective cities and experienced things they hadn’t read or heard about. We bring you just a few of their stories – a taste of their adventures. ILLUSTRATIONS BY JULIETTE LE SAINT PHOTOS BY CLAIRE FAHY & LINDSAY BRIBIESCAS

http://www.studenthealth.ucla.edu/pharmacy @dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

Visit us online for FAQs, hours, and info on our new location:

WRITTEN BY CLAIRE FAHY

here’s a lot to see in Washington, D.C. Museums, monuments, people who look like they could be famous politicians. There’s also a lot to be in Washington, D.C. Each morning, the sidewalks are packed with every kind of person imaginable. The suits on their way to Capitol Hill, the khaki-and-hoodie-clad kids on their way to a think tank startup, the less easily identifiable but still very importantlooking professionals. For me, Washington, D.C., is the place to start becoming an adult. I’ve started opting for black coffee over sugary latte concoctions, swapped out running shoes for heels and take more than five minutes to get myself ready for the world every morning. I’m also living in a new city, across the country from where I grew up and went to college, working an almost

full-time internship at “60 Minutes” and figuring out what I want to prioritize once I put on that cap and gown come June. Just last night, I took a run down Pennsylvania Avenue after work. I know how that sounds, but Pennsylvania Avenue is one of two running routes I have – the other being Constitution Avenue. It’s very Washington, D.C., I’m aware. Anyway, I felt undeniably “House of Cards” running in the dark, the illuminated dome of the Capitol glowing in the distance. I took a left at the White House and ran past Trump International Hotel Washington, D.C., with all its bright lights, American flags and subtle foreboding. A few blocks later I pulled up outside the Newseum, feeling less Claire Underwood and more Hannah Horvath in terms of TV characters who run. On the smooth facade is carved one of many quotes:

room. It’s crazy to me that in return for working too many hours a week and for caring too much about our student paper, I might gain access to a career where I can continue to work too much and care too much. I was asked to write about my experience “abroad” for this piece. I guess my time away from campus has a lot to do with all the time I spent on campus, as well as everything I hope comes next.

THERE’S ALSO A LOT

TO BE

IN WASHINGTON, D.C.

CULTURE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

WASHINGTON, D.C., U.S.A.

“Freedom includes the right to be outrageous. Responsibility includes the duty to be fair. News is history in the making. Journalists provide the first draft of history.” That idea is grand and self-serving, but also kind of intoxicating. Does that quote apply to any of my work to date? No. Does it apply to what’s going on in the world right now? Definitely. The dichotomy between those two answers currently epitomizes a dilemma in my life – the gulf between where I am and where I want to be. We can revisit this topic in March and I might very well be hyperventilating, but at the present moment the idea of the future is exciting. As I clearly spend a good deal of time thinking about it, there’s a lot I’m going to miss once college becomes the past. Moving away from LA – which after two months in Washington, D.C., is something I’ve decided I want to do (see: “House of Cards” runs down Pennsylvania Avenue) – won’t be easy. I keep dreaming up various schemes in which I convince all my friends to move to the same East Coast city as me. Texting and Skyping isn’t the same as flopping down onto a couch in the Daily Bruin office and venting about life’s every injustice. This is also the first time in three years I’ve worked in an office that wasn’t run by students. Where my coworkers weren’t also my best friends and the people I spent all hours with, even when we weren’t in the office. I’ve also thought a lot about what I’ll take with me from college – what did I really learn? As most Daily Bruin staffers will tell you, the most impressionable lessons occurred in that student-run office, not necessarily a class-

WRITTEN BY LINDSAY BRIBIESCAS

f I’m completely honest, when I booked my trip to Italy I didn’t really think it through. A friend of mine suggested that I see a little of Europe before settling into my study abroad program. At that moment, all I could think of was how much I loved pasta – so I chose to go to Rome. At first, the complicated parts of the trip – the summer weather (hot), the language barrier (frustrating), traveling alone (amazing) – didn’t register as very significant. Despite being an incredibly organized person – I keep four calendars at a time – I quickly realized how low-maintenance I could be, and needed to be, while traveling. As I stepped off the plane, I practically fell over hitting the near-solid humidity. The terminal was filled with locals returning from vacation, so few people spoke English and plenty of them stared at the clearly lost American girl wandering through the airport. My plane landed late in the evening. By the time I had to find my Airbnb, it was already dark and I was hopelessly lost. My taxi driver spoke no English and was unfamiliar with the area, and I couldn’t figure out how to get in touch with the hosts I was staying with. I eventually found the apartment, and I can’t describe my relief at hearing English after what felt like days of confusing Italian. It had been

three hours. I stayed in a residential area about 30 minutes outside of downtown Rome. The people in the area already had little reason to speak English. Few tourists ventured out that way, and since it was August, when many Europeans go on holiday, there were even fewer people around, shrinking the pool of English speakers even further. But while that isolation felt lonely at times, it was also freeing. Without anyone else to travel with, there was no expectation to stick to a particular schedule. I wandered around various neighborhoods in Rome with no idea where I was going, and ended up seeing more of the city than I would have otherwise. Naturally, this could have been because my sense of direction is exceptionally poor. But without anyone to really guide me toward the big attractions, I ended up exploring smaller neighborhoods and lingering over the quieter attractions. My favorite spot was Largo di Torre Argentina, the site where Julius Caesar was murdered, which is now a stray cat sanctuary. It became my home base while out of my Airbnb, since it was near the center of downtown Rome, but quiet (and shady) enough to catch my breath and get reoriented. The sanctuary is set below the pavement, but is surrounded

I GOT TO BE TRULY

ON MY OWN.

by busy streets and shops. Every once in a while a stray cat would appear, looking perfectly comfortable and entirely wrong on the ancient, sacred ruins. Since I was by myself at all these places, people-watching often invited some strange interactions – one Italian man asked me to sniff a leaf and then rambled in mangled English about Roman fountains and his trip to Boston. And eventually, I got used to only hearing Italian. It became somewhat startling to easily understand what people were saying, and I can’t explain how proud I was when I could manage a halting conversation in Italian. I picked it

up through the laborious efforts on the part of my hosts, and the hour or so they spent on my first night in Rome teaching me very simple words and giggling politely behind their hands at my horrific accent. From there, a few waiters took pity on me and would repeat everything they said in both English and Italian, until I could ask for water and other basics with a passable accent that has gone dormant since. The strangest thing about traveling alone was that I wasn’t scared. Even with all the warnings I received about pickpockets in Rome, I didn’t feel especially threatened. The most threatened I felt was when I wandered into a coffee bar that was filled to bursting with construction workers getting their midmorning espresso. And even that was only scary because they clearly knew what to do, and I somehow managed to trip over my own feet and then gag on the incredibly strong espresso. In Rome, I got to be completely independent – I set my own schedule, I chose where and when to eat. I got to be truly on my own. By the end of my nine-day trip, I knew the general layout of the different city neighborhoods, I could speak very, very basic Italian and had perfected the language of charades. I also came to realize that having four calendars is useful, but it’s just as useful to be able to relax and do what suits me in the moment – even if that means getting gelato three times in one day.

CULTURE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

ROME, ITALY

JOSHUA TREE PHOTOS BY OWEN EMERSON & HAYLEY MCAVOY

prime WEEKEND GUIDE

LIFESTYLE

oshua Tree National Park is one of nine national parks located in California. I’m all for the great outdoors, but for my day trip, I chose going into town over hiking on top of humongous rock formations – otherwise known as rock climbing. I trip enough over flat sidewalk as is. A few friends and I drove into Twentynine Palms from our Airbnb house in the park, with the air conditioner blasting. A sign off the single-

lane freeway called our name: Cactus Mart. Admittedly, I should have been happy with the native cacti I was surrounded by in a desert; however, I wanted tiny succulents for my dorm room, and it is against the law to uproot plants from a national park. We parked and were instantly greeted by some of the friendliest small-town store owners I have ever met. They learned about our long journey from Los Angeles and gave us a tour of the store before instructing us on do-it-yourself potting techniques and plant care.

After watching us struggle, one of the employees laughed and took up a spade to join us in “getting our hands dirty,” as we attempted to shove cacti into tiny pots and not crush them in the process. Clearly not in Los Angeles anymore, each succulent cost $1. We exchanged goodbyes and were told to honk on our way out of town. Continuing our tour of the three-block downtown, my friends and I visited a few thrift stores and vintage shops. In Pioneer Crossing Antiques, I tried on a puffy dress from the ’40s that made me look

like a possessed prom queen. At this point, we’d worked up an appetite and I was treated to my first-ever trip to Sonic Drive-In, roller skates and all. As the sun set, we happily drove back to the Airbnb house, our hands and laps full of french fries, shakes and drought-tolerant plants. A day later, we drove past the Cactus Mart on our way back to Los Angeles, and remembered to honk. We shrieked happily as we saw our new friends run to the roadside to wish us off, waving and cheering as they shrunk to specks in the desert.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

TOWN

WRITTEN BY NATALIE GREEN

WRITTEN BY OWEN EMERSON

LIFESTYLE

oshua Tree National Park is a gem for anyone who wants to sunbathe on rocks like a lizard, boulder through cracks and up the ledges to get a new perspective of the heavens or just relax and camp out amid a desert escape. It has held a special place in my heart ever since my parents, who were married there, took my sister and me camping as kids and let us explore the rocks and climb over small boulders. Today the landscape still stretches as far as the eye can see; hills of granite still spread over the sandy world in a plethora of formations and shapes. They give fans of bouldering and rock climbing gleams in their eyes. I love bouldering on the rock heaps in Indian Cove Campground, and on a recent trip, I found the perfect wall. The amazing traction of the granite texture gave my hands and feet fluidity in movement as I crouched, jumped and slipped from rock to rock. As my arms reached for each handhold, I watched the ground grow farther and farther away. I climbed in early morning on the shaded side of the rock, so as I approached the summit, rays of light bled over my climbing path. Bright orange and yellow lights contrasted brilliantly with dark shadowy rocks. Once I reached the top I didn’t yell out in victory. I didn’t

take a panoramic photo with my camera. I just stood there and looked all around. I love Joshua Tree for the private peace and solitude you can easily find among the rocks. This scene, this moment was mine, and mine alone. It was a few minutes of surreal beauty and peace that solely belonged to my vantage point. Even for just a weekend, moments like these help me hit pause on my constantly stressful and busy life and feel like I’m in an alternative universe. This reason is perhaps why more and more rock climbers and yogis are moving out here – to freeze time and find themselves. The scenery seems straight from a movie or some distant wild paradise but in reality, Joshua Tree rests about three and a half hours east of Los Angeles, making it the perfect city escape.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

CLIMBING

HIKING WRITTEN BY HAYLEY

LIFESTYLE

water, we were still thirsty for more dirt trails in Joshua Tree. We got back to our car around 2:30 p.m. and decided to hike to the top of Ryan Mountain before exiting the park. Ryan Mountain is at the center of the park and is one of its biggest attractions. Although the round trip is only 3 miles, getting to the top requires more than 1,000 feet in elevation gain – do not underestimate this hike. Bring plenty of water as it gets hotter the higher you go. At the top, alongside the stunning backdrop of Joshua Tree, is a pile of rocks with the sign “Ryan Mountain, elevation: 5,457 feet.” Conquering that was our last feat of the weekend as it was time to head back. We trudged down the mountain as the sun was starting to fall, along with the temperature. We had a long drive from the dream that is Joshua Tree, back to the reality we face in Los Angeles.

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

MCAVOY

y family and I are avid backpackers and hikers. When I first went to Joshua Tree National Park, I was dead set on trekking through its backcountry. But since it is a desert in Southern California with remote access to water, we settled for day hikes and staying at the campsites in the national park. We only had a short 24 hours down there, but we were determined to make the best of it. We arrived late on a Friday night, by which time all of the campsites had been filled. We followed the directions to overflow camping, which took us to a random patch of shrubs, not far from the freeway. The headlights and occasional blare of a horn kept me grounded as I drifted off staring into the starry night. The next day, we went by the Oasis Visitor Center in the north of the park to prepare for our day. We decided to tackle the Lost Palms Oasis and Mastodon Peak – a hike approximately 7 miles long, round trip. It took us roughly three hours to complete at a leisurely pace. The trail is located in the south of the park, isolated from many of the other hiking and climbing areas, so there weren’t as many people. The hike starts in a dry area just like the rest of Joshua Tree, but slowly transforms into a tranquil green patch of various flora and fauna. The path runs alongside an old waterway that ends in a damp, marsh-like area, which I assumed was once a water hole. The trail ends at the Lost Palms Oasis. Located at the bottom of a valley, the oasis consists of larger-than-life palm trees and plenty of tabletop rocks. In our opinion, the perfect place for a picnic. We headed back from the hike just around 1 p.m. Although we were low on

1 2

RecipE:

Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.

Nordic Bakery cinnamon buns. Makes 12 large cinnamon buns.

In a large bowl, mix together the milk, sugar, yeast, cardamom, melted butter and egg. Let the mixture sit for a few minutes until it is foamy. Add the flour, and mix until dough forms. Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface, and knead until smooth. Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover, and let rise in a warm place for about one hour, until doubled in size.

Ingredients:

sweet dough in

Soho WRITTEN BY JESSICA CHAN

PHOTOS BY JESSICA CHAN &

JENNIFER HU

Punch down the dough, and transfer to a lightly floured surface. With a rolling pin, roll the dough out until it is about 12 inches by 30 inches and ¼ inch thick. Spread the softened butter over the dough. Combine the dark brown sugar and cinnamon, and then sprinkle it over the dough.

Roll the dough up from a long edge. Cut into 2 ½ inch rolls at an angle – make the first cut diagonal, then do the same in the opposite direction. Continue until about 12 buns are cut. Transfer the buns to the parchment-lined pans with the longest edge of the bun sitting on the baking sheet. Cover, and let rise in a warm place for 30-60 minutes until nearly doubled in size. Preheat the oven to 400 F.

Remove the buns from the oven, and drizzle the glaze over the tops. Serve warm with a cup of tea.

Filling »» 6 ½ tablespoons unsalted butter, softened »» 1 cup packed dark brown sugar »» 3 tablespoons ground cinnamon Glaze »» ½ cup sugar »» 1 tablespoon lemon juice »» ½ cup water

Materials: »» »» »» »» »»

2 baking sheets parchment paper large bowl spoon or spatula nonstick cooking spray or oil »» rolling pin »» knife »» small saucepan

5 6

Bake the buns for 20-25 minutes, until golden brown. Meanwhile, make the glaze. Add the sugar, lemon juice and water to a small saucepan, and bring to a boil. Simmer for 10-15 minutes.

2 4

LIFESTYLE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2015

our blocks away from my dorm, theater signs flickered brightly against the night sky for as far as I could see. For many tourists visiting London, Soho is where they go to see “Les Miserables,” or a place they wander around after visiting the British Museum. But for me, it was more than that. It was home. Even as I got to know my neighborhood in the six weeks I lived there, it was still full of surprises. One afternoon, I discovered a street food festival that only happens once a year. Another day, I stumbled upon a bakery. On a quiet side street in London’s Soho neighborhood, there’s Nordic Bakery. I spotted the storefront’s thick white lettering as I turned the corner of Golden Square, and the scent of cinnamon filled the air before I fully stepped into the bakery. Once inside, I heard the slow whir of coffee being made, lingering conversations humming in the background and a steady flow of people in and out. Soon after, I had a cinnamon bun in hand, still warm from the oven. When I was in the bakery, it no longer felt like I was in bustling London. It was a refreshing change of pace from passing quickly from one museum and monument to the next. The cinnamon buns at Nordic Bakery were different from American cinnamon buns. They were firm on the outside, soft in the center, less sweet and more spiced. But, like the cinnamon buns I’m used to, they were comforting. When I think back to London, I miss the jazz music that echoes through the tube station and the East London markets that come to life, especially on warm and sunny days. I miss wandering through my neighborhood without a definite plan. I miss turning the corner and seeing the glass storefront promising cinnamon buns. After being home for a while, I still smile when I notice details at home that remind me of my time in London, especially these cardamom-scented cinnamon buns.

Dough »» 2 cups lukewarm milk »» ¾ cup sugar »» 4 ½ teaspoons (2 envelopes) active dry yeast »» ½ teaspoon ground cardamom »» 12 tablespoons (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter, melted »» 1 egg, at room temperature »» 8 cups all-purpose flour

HERB GARDEN

WRITTEN BY HAYLEY MCAVOY PHOTOS BY AUSTIN YU moving into my new apartment, I’ve been since trying to find a way to make it more homey. At

my house in Sacramento, I have more than 20 fruit trees, grapevines, a vegetable garden and countless basil and mint plants. Unfortunately, I don’t have enough room in my apartment for fruit trees and grapevines, and I don’t think I am responsible enough to tend to a vegetable patch. So an herb garden it is! In order to make this easier to fit into a college apartment, I opted to make an eggshell herb garden. Eggshells are small, easy to store and already abundant in my apartment. They also supply nourishment to the growing seeds as well as being biodegradable. So it’s a win-win. The eggshells are used to get the plants started. After the seeds sprout, plant them in a pot and watch the herbs flourish. For my mini garden, I planted mint and basil. Both of these require about four hours of sunlight a day. They can be grown year-round, but keep temperatures at about 60 to 70 degrees. Spray them with water every one to two days.

MATERIALS • Seeds

• Small spoon

• Eggs

• Spray bottle

• Egg carton

• Safety pin

• Planting soil

• Knife

Use the knife to cut off the top of the egg and pour out the contents.

Rinse out eggshells. You can boil them too, for a deep clean.

Let the eggshells dry and trim the edges down to the desired height.

Using the safety pin, carefully poke a hole in the bottom of the eggshell. This will provide proper drainage for your herbs.

5 6 7

Put eggshells in a carton and spray with water.

Spritz with water and place in a sunny, indoor area.

Water periodically, according to the seed packet instructions, and wait!

Using the spoon, scoop the soil into the eggs. Plant the seeds. Read the directions on the seed packet for special instructions.

LIFESTYLE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

diy: EGGSHELL

STEPS

hike la: wisdom tree

WRITTEN BY HAYLEY MCAVOY PHOTOS BY AUSTIN YU

ecause I am from Northern California, I often miss being surrounded by trees, mountains and fresh air rather than palm trees, skyscrapers and smog. Whenever this happens, I’m kindly reminded by my native Los Angeles friends that those things exist in Southern California – they’re just a little harder to find. This quarter I got in one of those moods in the midst of midterms chaos. In order to regain my sanity (and hopefully some knowledge), I ventured to the Wisdom Tree. The Wisdom Tree hike is a part of Griffith Park, but much less crowded than the park’s more wellknown trails. The land was privately owned for 60 years, but after a developer laid plans to construct luxury estates in 2009, there was a push by local groups to buy back the land with the help of some large donors. The area then became part of Griffith Park. The trailhead starts at the end of Wonder View Drive. However, park alongside Lake Hollywood Drive because parking is not permitted on Wonder View. The path takes you along the ridge to Cahuenga Peak. The terrain is a bit more rugged and steep, so I’d recommend only going when conditions are good. Round trip to the Wisdom Tree is around 3 miles – however, don’t let the short distance fool you. The hike is an 872-foot elevation gain and can be fairly strenuous. I was huffing and puffing my way up. It was all worth it for the view at the top. The Wisdom Tree stands solo on the ridge, and the scenery overlooks all of Los Angeles. We decided to go at sunset, so were able to watch the sun sink into the ocean while we struggled for breath. The city lights and car headlights were sprinkled along the valley, and it looked so serene I almost forgot I was in a city. Next to the Wisdom Tree, there’s a box filled with notes and letters of advice. One reads, “Travel often.” Surrounding the tree are a variety of rock formations, each containing their own letters. Each slip of paper was a different piece of wisdom from an anonymous source. There’s also an American flag flying on top, opposite from the Wisdom Tree. You can see the flag flapping in the distance from the very start of

the hike. Overall this experience took me about two hours, and in that time period I think I gained much more knowledge than my nights in a library. Nature > library. The end.

LIFESTYLE

@dailybruinprime | FALL 2016

CULTURE