The Adriatic Times - Own Face, 13th edition

0.5â‚Ź

May 2013

Nr. 13

The Adriatic Times

O W N FA C E

The Tim The Ad r T i me

Adriatic T i m es e s The Adriat ic Adriatic T i m es iatic Time s The es T he Adri a t i c

The A d r i a t i c T i m e s Tim e s T he A dr ia t ic The A dr i a t i c T i m e s Adr i a t i c T i m e s T h e Ti m e s T h e A dr i a t i c

T h e A d r i ati c T i m e s T im e s The Ad riatic T h e A d r i ati c T i m e s A d r i ati c T i m e s T h e T i m e s T h e A d r i ati c

T h e A d r i ati c T i m e s Tim es The Ad riatic T h e A d r i ati c T i m e s A d r i ati c T i m e s T h e T i m e s T h e A d r i ati c

T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s Ti mes Th e Adriatic T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s A d r ia t ic T im e s T h e T im e s T h e A d r ia t ic

T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s Times Th e Adriatic T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s A d r ia t ic T im e s T h e T im e s T h e A d r ia t ic

T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s Times Th e Adriatic T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s A d r ia t ic T im e s T h e T im e s T h e A d r ia t ic

T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s Times Th e Adriatic T h e A d r ia t ic T im e s A d r ia t ic T im e s T h e T im e s T h e A d r ia t ic

T h e Ad ri a t i c T i me s T i mes T he A d ri a t i c T h e Ad ri a t i c T i me s Ad ri a t i c T i me s T h e T i me s T h e Ad ri a t i c

The T i me The Ad ri a T i me

OWN FACE CHANGES, FRIENDS AND MEMORIES

Editorial in their lives, you can share messages and cooking recipes across the globe and you can call on assistance if you need a room to share or a get-out-of-jail free card.

contributors

Welcome to the 13th Edi- er it is, we hope you have a tion of the Adriatic Times. great summer and stay in touch.

As we come to the end of the academic year, it is a It is easier than ever to stay good time to reflect a little in touch. With Facebook on the changes we have seen and other social media you in our world, to express our are never far away from love for our friends and your friends. It is making to remember all the great the world a much smaller things that have happened place and providing a much this year, many planned but stronger support network many unplanned. than was ever present before. So, you do not have to How has the year been for say goodbye to your friends, you? Have you enjoyed it or you can keep up-to-date has it been hard? Whichev- with the important events

So, our current edition has loads of faces you recognise, memories you can share and recipes for the cakes you have probably eaten. Enjoy!

With warm regards from the Editorial Team of the Adriatic Times.

Cover photo: Nare Filiposyan Jornalists: Sibel Spahija, Camila Ruiz Segovia, Jacob John Borg, Brais Lamela Gรณmez, Eloรก Franรงa Verona, Wanda Thormeyer Proof reader: Malcolm Price wordpress.com s. e Designer: Valev Laube m ti ic at ri d .a w w

er from w times@uwcad.it c. ti a ri Read the newpap d a to g lin ngs by emai Publish your writi

T h e A d r i a t i c T i m e s T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i me s The Adriatic Ti T i m e s Th e Ad riatic T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The Ad r ia t ic T imes T h e T h e Ad ri at i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia ti c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic Tim e s The Adriati A dr i a t i c T i m e s T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i me s The Adriatic Ti T im e s T h e A d ri a t i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia t i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic Tim e s The Adria

4

"There is nothing permanent in life except CHANGE" -Heraclitus.

By Sibel Spahija Some people call change or variety 'the spice of life'.

Change is in the very nature of being. Every new day is different from the previous day. Body metabolism is one such process, as is growth in trees and the revolution of the planets. Tides come and go, so what were the changes you faced when you came to the UWC? From the day when the first years arrived at the college they started feeling that something was changing. We got to know people from all around the world from different cultures, with different opinions. It’s not that everyone was comfortable with these changes from the first day. The Porto and Rilke Path saw a lot of tears as a result of

these changes. As we got to know more people we started getting familiar with these differences which made the UWC a boulevard filled with opportunity.

For most people the IB system was completely different from the one they were used to in their own countries. Internal assessments, lab reports, presentations and teachers’ jokes were all a bit (or a lot) shocking in the beginning, even if now they seem like they have been in our lives forever.

Facebook, which before was used (mainly) to chat with others or share pictures/news, after coming to the UWC became a necessity to understand what was going in our community. If you didn’t check your Facebook at least

every 2 hours then you could have missed a change in the time of a meeting or rehearsal.

Demand for coffee rose a lot.

Possibly UWC students were one of the factors which affected this change. Three S-es (sleep, socializing and success) are what every UWC student aims for (but often does not achieve) creating long dark nights full of work and coffee to complete assignments before the deadlines.

We can clearly see and feel that there have been a lot of changes from our previous lives after we came to the UWC. We still complain that some of them make our lives much more difficult. On the other hand, the fact is that whenever we leave this place, even for a short time, we un-

derstand how happy we are with all the new stuff we learnt and all the changes that have happened to us.

It is here that we need to ask ourselves some basic questions about change. Have I ever given a thought to changing things around me? Have I ever tried to act in a way that could bring about change for the better in my society?

We are able to get a lot of experiences which make us more mature and aware as a result of being a part of the UWC, but how can we make these experiences useful both for ourselves and others? It is up to us to keep this in mind and use our time in the best way possible.

Et cetera

By Eloá França Verona

“It is kind of an international school... but not exactly. It is a school where the students come from all over the world and we all do social service with the local community and in other cities nearby... we can take many initiatives

and there is Peace One Day, the national shows, the assemblies, the people.... and so much more.”

I have tried.

I have tried to put in words, to summarize in a text some

We might not talk, we might not be together, but we will always love and think about you!

- first-years

Photo by Valev Laube

of the changes, the memories, the moments I have had here.

I have failed.

Everything I could write would be lacking. In trying to understand why I realized that whatever I write cannot express the full meaning

that this experience had to me because the meaning of it is expressed not in what I can write but in everything I cannot. It is always expressed in the unspoken “et cetera” of every sentence.

Th e A d r i a t i c T i m es T he A d ri a tic Times The Ad r ia tic Times Th e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e Adriatic Ti T im e s T h e A d riatic Tim e s Th e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c T i mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti mes T h e Th e Ad r i a t i c Ti m es T he A d ri a tic Times The Ad r ia tic Times T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e Adriati Adriat i c T i me s T he A d ri at i c Times The Ad r ia tic Times The A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e Adriatic Ti T imes T h e A dri a t i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T im e s The Adria

5

Peace One Day 2013

By Sibel Spahija, General Coordinator of the Team

The organizers' team is ready! We have chosen our members and have divided the roles.

During the meetings the team has taken a lot of steps towards the organization of this year’s event.

We have tried to ensure that this organization will work as well as it did in 2012.

Furthermore, we are planning to add new ideas so that we can spread the importance of global peace as widely as possible.

Light The lush grass tickles my feet The yellow beam blinds me For the first time in a very long time I experience true silence Do not mistake silence for the sound of nothingness It is rather the opposite It is when the sound of humans has vanished And where we feel the spring leaves brush upon the tree trunk as if it were our skin Where we feel the twitters of the birds exit our throats Where our hair moves with every warm breeze Where we feel our faces burn with the sun’s rays yet we plant ourselves deep into the earth Why do we do that?

The answer is simple We sprouted from the earth’s womb nurtured and innocent We walked our way around its body discovering every inch, using every branch as our crutch We managed to separate and go on our own, careless to our womb’s needs It is hurt and it yearns for our return To the moment where our roots reattach with the earth’s soil and true silence takes over once again

Moni Ayoub

Photo by Nare Filiposyan

There are these molecules called pions.

Just pions, not apple pions.

- Mark

T h e A d r i a t i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m es The Adriatic Ti T i m e s Th e Ad riatic T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d r ia t ic T imes T h e T h e Ad ri a t i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia ti c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic Tim e s The Adriati A dr i a t i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i me s The Adriatic Ti Time s T h e A d ri at i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r iat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c Tim e s The Adria

6

DETACHMENT

By Ginevra Guzzi

Detachment.

From your house, from your family, from your friends, from your lover.

From your new house, from your new family, from more friends.

From the things you have got used to, from your habits and traditions.

From the feeling of safety, of warmth and ease.

From the smiles you have grown to known and appreciate on a daily basis.

Wonder.

About where you are headed to, about what you can or should expect from your future.

About the people you will meet on your path.

About the people you are leaving behind.

About how the hell you will manage to leave them behind.

About how you can make an effort to not leave them behind.

Fear.

It’s everywhere.

A microscopic distressing particle that penetrates the most remote corners of your mind and heart.

Because you are human, you have feelings and you are not given the chance to control them at all times. Thus you cannot simply deliberately shut the window and not let fear in.

At this time of the year and of my experience at the College, I am rather scared. This beautiful place has been, with all its marvelous adventures and its periods of dreadful mental oppression, my safe home for the past twenty months.

Where I have met the most fascinating people, where I have undertaken some truly crazy journeys, where I have grown enormously with laughter and tears. Where I have loved and where I still love, with every small particle of my being.

Where I belong to.

erence points, our warm fireplaces and we go on. What we leave behind is a ceramic background that has been shaped when it was still fresh and has then been fired into an eternal sculpture whose image will never be deleted from our minds.

What we continue to build will be a further engraving and addition of material to a solid base. And where does the energy used to create the supplementary modifications come from? It comes from the thermal energy liberated by the firing of that same ceramic. My enthusiasm for my future life comes from the inspiration and passion that have accompanied me so far. From the conversations had while lying on Fore lawn eating lunch. From dancing in the room to loud music holding fancy glasses with your roommates to celebrate the birthday of one of them. From baking gym-bardiscs-shaped cakes. From the strokes of our arms that push us towards Fore beach. From going skinny-dipping under the bright stars. From the fires and the music in Cernizza.

From the stones that creek under the feet of two hundred students walking through the forest to go play ice-breakers.

From the smiles and the love of those people.

Detachments are no easy things to deal with. They are scary.

But they are real. And they are here.

There is one only way to survive them and make them positive experiences. It is to face them together.

Together. With you.

Throughout our lives we undergo numerous detachments; some more obvious, some others a bit more subconscious and disturbing. However, given that we are the most adaptable animal on the planet, we change our habits, our ref-

Ples prank night: Reine: I'm so impressed primi. Wow I'm so impressed!

First years: How was the leavers' dinner?

Reine: I'm soooo impressed girls, sooo impressed ...

Photo by Nare Filiposyan

Th e Ad r i a t i c T i m e s T i m e s T he A d riatic The Adr i a t i c T i m e s A dr ia t i c T i me s T he Times T h e A d ri at i c

T he A d ria tic Times Time s The A dr i a t i c T he A d ria tic Times A d ri at i c Times The T i m es T he Ad r ia tic

The Ad r ia tic Times T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c The Ad r ia tic Times Ad r ia tic Times The Times The Ad r ia tic

T h e A d ri at i c T im e s Ti m es The A d ri ati c T h e A d riat ic T i m e s A d riat ic T i m e s T h e T im e s T h e A d riat ic

T h e A d riat ic T i m e s Ti mes The A d ri ati c T h e A d ri at i c T im e s A d ri at i c T im e s T h e T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c

T h e A d ri at i c T im e s Ti m es The A d ri ati c T h e A d riat ic T i m e s A d riat ic T i m e s T h e T im e s T h e A d riat ic

The Adriatic Ti T imes T h e The Adriati Adriatic Ti Tim e s The Adria

A Message This is for the second years who are closest to my heart.

Milce Murdjeva, Celine Tan Sue-Wen, Volen Guertchev, Nicola Pinzani, Nemanja Stojanovic, Yazan Barhoush, Jacob Borg & Doroteja Postonjski.

"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to

dance. They awaken us to new understandings with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints in our heart, and we are never ever the same."

You guys mean the most to me. I never thought it could

be possible to care and love for people this much in such a short period of time. You have been the best second years to me, you have taught me many things and I will miss you soo much. Good luck in university; I wish you all the best in life. Don’t forget your Nepali first year, because I will never forget you.

This is not a goodbye, because as Peter Pan said "Never say good bye, because good bye means going away, and going away means forgetting." This is just a see you later :) Lots of love, Sophie Vaidya

Generation Song UWCAD 2011-13 Verse 1 Every time I walk and stop, I feel it spinning.

I feel the stones crisp Let me go back again.

Verse 2 Beneath the cliffs of Rilke Path ships are passing by.

It feels like yesterday, Makes me feel at home.

Every time I walk and stop, my toes will resist.

I hear my feet turn Let me go back again.

Nights spent on Cernizza beach singing Duino songs.

Tunes that here belong, They echo still (They echo still).

Searching for a golden sun rise, Golden moments, Searching for something certain that the wind carried away.

Walking barefoot on the pavement burns.

It doesn’t even matter if sometimes it hurts, Sometimes we lose ourselves to find it in each other again.

How can I belong to something that tomorrow, That tomorrow, Will disappear?

We live half awake and we lose track of time.

We find this place as always and never before.

Let me go back again.

CHORUS: We come, we go, leaving memories on the shore.

We hold on, we let go, In the ocean we dissolve.

We are one, we are whole, To Duino we belong.

To Duino we belong.

Verse 3 Bora will turn our heads but Cernizza will keep our steps X2 Every day is the day that you’ve been waiting for Chasing time has now become our dance A cappella (x2) Chorus (x2)

Minutes before her econ exam, Sara shouted: "I need to get my GDP checked!" pointing at her Graphic Display Calculator.

Jennika: "BE AN INDIVIDUAL"

7

The A d r i a t i c T i m e s T he A dr ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m es The Adriatic Ti T i m e s Th e Ad riatic Ti m e s T h e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e Ad ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d r ia t ic T imes T h e T h e A d ri at i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic Tim e s The Adriati A d r i a t i c T i m e s T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m es The Adriatic Ti Time s T h e Ad ri a t i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia ti c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic Tim e s The Adria

8

The secret recipe

By Beāte Ančevska

“The drunk raisins” Ingredients: 1 jar of condensed milk with sugar (400g) Little bit of very strong coffee (1/8 of a cup) 150-200g butter 500g of plain biscuits Half a glass of chopped nuts (preferably walnuts, but it doesn’t really matter) A hand full of raisins

Photo by Valev Laube

Next year there is going to be someone else sitting on my bench in Fore. Next year there is going to be someone else in the room 16. Next year life in Duino will continue, and I am sure it is going to be as incredible as during these two years.

This a happy place where it is not easy to be sad or to be alone. This place taught me a lot, and changed me as a person. I have been happy a lot, and I hope that I have succeeded in making you happy once, giving you at least a little smile.

Everybody wants to leave

something in Duino. I am leaving the street sign with Adam. I am leaving my Economics notes with Alex.

I am leaving The Lord for somebody. And I wanted to make a cook book to pass on to a first year. But my biggest problem with this is that I almost never use recipes, and construction of a good cookbook would take me too much time. And I am a busy, busy student.

Last year I was a Pala girl and I loved to make sweets. This

Preparation: 1. Leave the raisins in vodka, rum or any other strong alcohol for a night.

2. Mix the coffee, milk and butter. Add raisins (with or without the liquid of alcohol) & nuts. Add crushed biscuits and mix everything. Add more butter or biscuits if necessary for the structure.

3. Leave everything in the fridge for couple of hours.

4. Make little balls of the mixture and put them in whatever you want – coconut, sprinkles, biscuits or whatever. Put everything in the fridge for one more hour.

5. Wash the dishes after yourself.

6. Share with your roommate and winter friend. year I live in Fore, and I still love to make sweets. There is this one particular thing that my mother used to make when I was little, when I was learning how to bake with her. I made it on my own on my first sick-list day of the year in my first term. The outcome was almost as good as when my mom was making it. It is a type of sweet, called “The drunk raisins” (Ellie gave it that name), and I hope that at some point you will look at this and decide to

make a little taste of Beāte’s kitchen. It is the taste of happiness.

Just to clarify – in the college you will have to skip the part where you get the raisins drunk, but when you are at home, try the real version; it gives it a real kick.

“Remember to be happy, remember that there is so much to enjoy in this place (or in any place, my dear friends). Remember to message me on Fridays at 1.15. Remember to make the most of your time, and make every day a memory.”

- Beāte

T h e Ad r i a t i c Ti m es T he A d ri a tic Times The Ad r ia tic Times T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e Adriatic Ti T im e s T h e A d riatic Time s Th e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes T h e The Ad r i a t i c T i m e s T he A d ri atic Times The Ad r ia tic Times T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e Adriati Adr iat i c T i mes T he A d ri at i c Times The Ad r ia tic Times The A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e Adriatic Ti T im es T h e A dri at i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T im e s The Adria

9

Creamy Explosion*

By Anna Gams

Do you want to experience something special?

Do you want to be full of energy?

If yes, this is right for you!

Mix all ingredients for the base with a mixer. Put a bit of butter on the edges of a baking tin (I usually use bread tin). Put it in the oven (356 F) for half an hour. In the meanwhile, prepare the cream by mixing cheese with

powdered sugar until soft consistency. Put the cream in the fridge.

Serve the cake with the cream on top or in the middle. Decorate with kiwis and strawberries.

*Unfortunately, there is no picture of the cake because the Creamy Explosion finishes before a camera is taken out.

TIRAMISÙ

By Ginevra Guzzi

So… every Italian “che si rispetti” has their own way to make Tiramisù and each of them will tell you that their recipe is the real traditional one and is, of course, the best.

Being a proud Italian and having tried very many Tiramisùs in my life, I think I can do the same and say THAT MY RECIPE IS THE BEST. So I want to share it with you.

Tiramisù is not only part of my culture, but it is a very important part of my life at

the College. And I think that having Tiramisù parties is one of the best ways to spend time with your friends and create new friendships.

Enjoy it!

PS: You’ll probably want to double these quantities to have a decent amount. If any of you want to embark on an adventure like mine this year, make it “times 8” and you’ll make MANY people happy.

Matt: I can’t see anything from my right eye.

Gin: I can’t see anything from my left eye.

Mark: The two of you should get together.

Student budget version of a Creamy Explosion cake (5 fairly big pieces): Base: 1 cup flour 2/3 cup milk 1/2 cup white sugar 3.5 oz butter 2 teaspoons baking powder spices (cinnamon, cardamom) Cream: 16 oz Philadelphia cheese or similar 3 oz powdered sugar

INGREDIENTS • 100 gr. sugar • 4 eggs • 500 gr. mascarpone • coffee • ladyfingers (biscuits) • cocoa powder RECIPE Mix the sugar with the egg yolks until the mixture becomes creamy. Then add the mascarpone to the mix. Stir until creamy.

Make some coffee and add some water to it, so that it isn’t too hot and its taste is not too strong.

In a pan (the dimensions change depending on how creamy you want the Tiramisù to be) make a first layer of ladyfingers dipped in the coffee.

Whip the egg whites until they are not liquid anymore, but quite solid. Add these to the mixture of sugar, egg yolks and mascarpone.

Mix until unified and creamy.

Put about half of this cream on top of the layer of ladyfingers.

Make another layer of ladyfingers dipped in the coffee.

Put the other half of the cream on top.

Cover with cocoa powder just before serving.

To have the best results and make it quite soft, you need to prepare it beforehand: at least half a day before serving, so the ladyfingers can take the taste of the coffee and everything can blend together.

The A dr i a t i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m es The Adriatic Ti T i m e s Th e Ad riatic Ti m e s T h e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A dr ia t ic T imes T h e T h e A d ri at i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c Tim e s The Adriati A d r i a t i c T i m e s T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s The Adriatic Ti Time s T h e A d ri a t i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia t ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c Tim e s The Adria

10

The Quilt

By Diane Liang

I have a quilt that lies over my bed. It has been a constant fixture in my life. The beds change. They move constantly; I move constantly. But it comes with me. On every cold plane, lonely bus or open ferry. It gets folded and tucked under my arm to be carried to the next destination - the next X on a map marked in old, ruddy eyeliner.

It's bright, mostly blue: I always seem to end up in conversation with blue-fitted strangers. Maybe the reds are just too showy. And it gets longer, the quilt. The neat border has become a part of the disarray. Each shirt I meet gets added. And I wrap myself in it at every new X variant.

I forget who some are; who each roughly cut square once belonged to. They are like the pile of old post-it notes I still keep. Most of the scribbles have rubbed off, on, into each other. I don't know what they

say anymore. But they form a nice assorted stack of crumpled pieces of paper that used to mean something. At one point, each square held significance.

There's this one shade of blue that's really teal. It lies and likes to pretend it's blue. The sea green tint hides until it is hit by the right angle of light.

Always, it comes out at night, bold on a full moon. But to most passersby, it appears to meld in with the rest. It's just another square of blue.

If you don't look for it, you won't find that top right-hand corner it sits in, squished between the other rows held together by uneven thread.

Anyway, there's this one square that's the perfect shade of hidden teal. It belonged to a stranger, like all the other ones did. Some still do. It belonged to a stranger who for a brief period in my life was no more a stranger to me than

my own palm. But then, of course, I don't hold my own hand, so I hardly know what that means.

He came. He saw. He conquered. Isn't that what they say? He came. It was an ordinary rainy day, the type I secretly liked. He saw. I never had to say a word. He conquered.

I could tell you about the other blue-clad characters: the way they looked, sounded, and spoke. I can recall the most insignificant details for almost every other stolen cutout of a forgotten, worn, softened shirt that lies crisp in the salt of the air. I can tell you the way the lively colors in their eyes danced, the way they held air in their lungs and moved from one moment to the next, the way they pronounced words like their names and mine. Everything lasts with a permanent brilliance as if the imprint they

Photo by Nare Filiposyan

made had only been drawn yesterday. I can recall the most insignificant details for everyone else, but I cannot recall even the most significant ones for him – for that particular square of teal.

I used to look. I would walk, finding new shirts, characters, distractions. I have made myself a very warm quilt of an assortment of snippets of colors and senses. If I wrap myself in it, I can smell the sharp air of snow and the silken mist of fog. But I’ve walked more than I could have ever imagined; all I need is a chair to sit in now. I want to enjoy the view. I don’t need a cocoon anymore. You do. Your X’s aren’t even ruddy yet, and you have more than I ever drew.

You have yet to find your teal shirts. I have a quilt that lies over my bed; you’ve seen it before. You take it – and add to it. And then come back and show me. Bring tea.

The Adr i a t i c T i m e s T he A d ria tic Times The Ad r ia tic Times T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s The Adriatic Ti T im e s T he A d riatic Tim e s The A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c T imes T h e The Adr i a t i c T i m es T he A d ri a tic Times The Ad r ia tic Times T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s The Adriati Adr iat i c T i me s T he A d ri at i c Times The Ad r ia tic Times The A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e Adriatic Ti Tim es T h e A d ri at i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s The Adria

11

The True Image of Africa

By Jusse Aline Hirwa

When they say home, home is where the heart is. I close my eyes and think of only one place: Home, Africa.

Home, Africa is where my heart, soul and mind live.

For two years in UWC Adriatic, I have learnt that many people have negative thoughts about Africa, even though they have never been there.

When I first came to the college, people asked me: “Do you have cars in Africa?” I sarcastically replied “No, in Rwanda we use elephants as school buses.”

The second day David Sakala was asked: “Do people in Zambia have clothes and slippers?” He replied: “No, I bought some at the airport when I was coming in.”

Thinking Uganda wouldn’t be any different, they ran to Lucchese and asked Christopher: “Do people in Africa have telephones?” He could not help laughing, and only replied: “No, each time we called Matej for admission notification, we travelled to Europe.”

After a week, they learnt that the college is very diverse since there is also one person from Angola, so they then went to Ples to find Neide and asked her if people in Africa live in houses like in

Duino? She looked at them and replied: “Where would we get houses? In fact, I was looking for a good tree to sleep under in Duino.” In Mensa, they met Robert Malongo and asked him “Are all the people in Africa poor?” It was too much for him, he had nothing to say except “Minds Move Mountains.”

They were still convinced that Africans live with animals, so they went to ask how it works in Ethiopia.

Entisar replied with her smile: “We live with animals; I brought all of mine from Ethiopia, because I could not live without them. Lions are my favourite. Come to my room if you want to see them, they have babies too. ” This is what is portrayed of Africa to the rest of the world by the media. The media reports Africa as a primitive and helpless continent; this creates a stereotype in people’s minds in the western countries that Africa is a land of conflicts, misery, poverty, famine, war and dictatorship. This is why the average person in western countries has no idea what Africa is really like, apart from what he keeps seeing on television.

Africa needs business and

trade relations with western countries as it does with any other country in the rest of the globe, nevertheless, the question remains, how much can African countries attract the interest of investors, particularly from Western Europe, in order to sustain their ongoing fast development? One concept that can be taken as a good attempt in answering the above question is assessing the role of the media towards Africa regarding the present reality in Africa. The media builds a stereotype in the human mind, if not properly managed. People tend to act based on stereotypes not based on the reality on the ground. The question that arises is how are we going to develop if investors look at Africa as a place of risk for their business? I know and understand that there is a grave situation with HIV, wars and poverty, but there are also many success stories in Africa. Many countries that you never hear about in the news have growing economies with fair and just leaders. For example, countries like Ghana, Botswana and Namibia, are making a lot of progress but no-one hears about them. Only the negative side is portrayed.

We, the Africans, need to change our image. We don’t need aid from countries, what we need is for them to stop interfering in the affairs of the continent, by allowing fair trade agreements, so that African raw materials can be sold at fair prices, not at prices determined in western countries. For example, countries like the Congo have a lot of natural resources, but it is among the poorest countries. We need the western countries to stop encouraging conflicts by selling weapons to both sides. We need them to stop supporting dictators, leaders that end up destroying their countries (for example Mobutu was supported by the US et al throughout his tyrannical reign, and Muammar Gaddafi, the former president of Libya, supported by so many countries.)

Africa is where there is love, trust and hope. We, who were born there, owe a peaceful Africa to future generations where people make love, not war. It is time to act, to rebuild our beloved homeland. While the world shakes and stumbles, Africa will dance to a different beat.

Monday in assembly: Stephen: Heya. I want to show a video...

[The video is a commercial] ...Beauty is nothing without brains. Mercedes.

Stephen: So remember, no eating or drinking in the library.

The A d r i a t i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m es The Adriatic Ti T i m e s Th e Ad riatic T i m e s T h e A dr i a t i c T i m e s T h e A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d ri ati c Ti mes The A d ri ati c Ti m es The A d r ia t ic T imes T h e T h e Ad ri a t i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia ti c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic Tim e s The Adriati A dr i a t i c T i m es T he Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r ia tic Tim e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m es The Adriatic Ti Time s T h e A d ri at i c T i m es The Ad r ia tic Times The Ad r iat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c T im e s T h e A d riat ic T i m e s T h e A d ri at i c Tim e s The Adria

12

EPILOGUE:

By Camila Ruiz Segovia

First it hurt as if they, the days and their subsequent absence, were insolently acting against me. Could time be both longed for and undesired? I still wanted to shape my waves in Porto, just for a little while more. Then it became absurd: I could not have squeezed more out of myself than I did during the carrousel months.

Up and down, I played different characters: the brash bohemian, the Woodstock hippie, the worldwide sex expert (in its purest mathematical studies sense), but also the broken-hearted adolescent, the bemused kid, a Latin-American prostitute, a mermaid with longhair, a grumpy frustrated stupid whatever, a Mexican mural in bright colors, a piece of old residence bread. I saw a multifaceted version of myself I wasn’t expecting.

But that was small, insig-

nificant compared to what I transformed into communally. I am formed of a collection of collective acts like bonfires, swims in impressionist views in Porto, a castle that changed its colors depending on my mood, a hike up for a glass of company and a hike down to Cernizza Beach.

them, a ferocious wind blew me away and put me back in my desk with messy hair. On some others, I did not see the sun but a grey cloud painted by a very cheap engineer, not an artist. All the nights, though, I had a huge blanket of sparkling stars and the rhythmical beauty of waves crashing against the Carso.

Even more importantly, I am an ensemble of all the smiles I trapped in teacups, the many tears I dropped while lying on his lap, the expanding laughter that started in a room in Foresteria and ended up on the balcony of Casa Carsica. I am part of the frozen image of many people eating pasta on the lawn when heat and crepuscular light made them look as beautiful as always and as never before.

I became moments and spaces like photographs. Per se, I could be a performer in Antine’s symphony of Italian songs, or one hidden shadow in the midnight Dolina under the rain, or a swimmer in the Adriatic Sea, when half the college jumped into the water. I could also be the room-mate of my room-mate and our morning tea, or the typical lesson of my beloved Spanish class in Al Castel. I am doubtlessly a bit of all my friendships, which became deep in unbearable stages (because of which, they will last forever).

I dedicated myself to the art of devoting my days for the very days. On some of

Might those events have created a mist of confusion on my identity, they certainly did. Every morning I would see a different person in the mirror, until the day that I woke up timelessly to appreciate myself, with all its implications. If you have seen a barefoot girl in the flower dress wandering around, that is probably me.

But it could also be any other Duino girl. (After several months together we all start to look the same.)

Terrible sunlight will break through my window to announce our last day. The two-year core will split up into pieces. My soul will fragment. Its bits will fly away like postcards to the world. I am part of something that tomorrow (that tomorrow) will disappear. It is fine now, it is time. But it would have been my most errant pleasure to remain.

I am deliberately copying Martin’s Kolberg’s title for his last article in the May 2012 Adriatic Times issue. Let the definition of the word be self-explanatory: a section or speech at the end of a book that serves as a comment on or a conclusion to what has happened.

1.

I see you, I hear you and what you say, matters to me!

Each individual creates the face of the college, thank you class 2011-2013