by Noor Khouri
Dear reader,
I invite you to explore a day of my first semester of my freshman year at MIT.
In retrospect, I realise that much has changed since then. New classes, new professors, new work habits, but most importantly, MIT has become a home and my friends have become family.
I’m often asked how my year went, and never once do I respond with remarks about the intense workload or the inherent lack of sleep that we all know too well. Instead, I describe the part of MIT that has resonated with me the most: the people. I have had the great privilege of meeting such wonderful people and I owe my friends for all the experiences and memories they have given me.
Thank you for joining me on a tiny part of my journey; perhaps our paths may cross as the next three years unfold…
Yours truly,
Noor Khouri
I lie in bed in my dorm room, awake for what feels like hours, wishing I could just fall asleep. As time passes slowly, light creeps through from the hairline crack underneath my door and the colour spectrum of my furniture emerges as my eyes become accustomed to the dark. I look around. My mind drifts back to the place I miss most…home. I can imagine myself in my bedroom, listening to my younger sister, Noony, loudly practice violin, piano or guitar – almost as though she is trying to make the whole house hear nothing else. As usual. This time, instead of trying to quiet her down so that I can concentrate on my work, I actually enjoy the melodies as they dance around my mind. The warmth of my room back home and the soft tunes of “River Flows In You” rising from the piano remind me of the comfort of my personal sanctuary. I feel closer to my family.
Once fatigue engulfs me, my eyelids, although persevering to maintain their stance, eventually become unsuccessful and shut firmly. I forget about the present and drift away into the distance where imagination dominates – in my dreams. As a child, I used to take the liberty of recording the entirely unlikely events which took place in the depths of my dreams. I was once a mermaid on a quest searching for an oyster, one which held the most lustrous and magical pearl which would reveal the answer to any question it was asked. If it fell into the wrong hands, the evil possessor would experience a powerful transformation and have the ability to destroy the colony where I lived in the dark and unknown waters. Contrary to my previously youthful and whimsical self, recently I have been dreamless. Either this or amnesia has taken a full-throttle effect on me. As soon as dawn breaks, the night’s happenings remain in my subconscious. The time has come for me to face the most dreadful time of day: waking up to find myself in a clueless state.Nooooo! Two more hours! The percussive tones of my alarm and the vibrations against my desk make the room reverberate with sounds equivalent to a nearing swarm of hornets ready to attack and chase me out of bed. At times like these I wonder how valuable it would be to be gifted with the powers of telekinesis. I stretch my arm, anticipating that my mobile phone will somehow appear in my hand – wishful thinking. I can’t stand this noise any longer! I rush to switch off the alarm and find myself on both feet, sighing with relief that my head is no longer throbbing. As I switch on the lights, my eyes are momentarily blinded by the brightness, and I trudge my way over to my laptop. I check my email to find at least ten totally irrelevant messages. Why do we get so many random emails here at MIT? I delete almost all of them and then check the weather forecast for the day. What’s it going to be today? Boiling hot with 100% humidity? Freezing cold with piercing winds? Sunshine or pouring rain? Or maybe even all of these conditions in one day. With New England’s bipolar weather, I wouldn’t be surprised. OK, some sun, 5°C…not too bad, but who would’ve thought that I would actually miss the predictability of sunny, hot and humid Abu Dhabi? I grab my clothes, get dressed and head over to the bathroom. Luckily, the walk there is no marathon. Green square tiles, wooden toiletry cubbies and rusting taps – wow, I really do miss my bathroom back home. Every day, I try to forget that I’m using a public bathroom – not a fan of those – but I’m not sure that it’s working.
Dilemma: Eat breakfast downstairs or in my room? All right, so it’s between spongy tasteless eggs in the McCormick Dining Hall – or whatever other ‘delicious’ options they never seem to change – or my Reese’s Puffs cereal. Today, my Reese’s win the battle, possibly because I’m in a rush as I usually am on a Tuesday morning. 9am lectures? Not cool. I eat as quickly as I possibly can, glance over at my unmade bed and shrug my shoulders, realising that it’s just going to have to stay that way. How was I so meticulous about making my bed every morning when I first got here? How did I keep my room so tidy? I wish I could do the same now, but who am I kidding?
Coat? Check. Umbrella? Check. Backpack? Check. OK, it’s time to go. As I hop down the staircase, I remember how I would occasionally unleash Noony’s morning madness by shaking her awake or cunningly luring her out of bed by playing her favourite music. In unison, we would wish our parents good morning, walk downstairs in a tired, zombie-like fashion and set forth to meet the horde of cars on the bustling streets of Abu Dhabi. Instead, I now face the equally busy Massachusetts Avenue crossing and the infinitely long, but not sufficiently wide, ‘Infinite Corridor’. It’s almost like a game; I lengthen my strides as I pick up my pace and dodge the traffic. Why must there always be someone walking super slowly or a group of tourists (or students) blocking the way? I weave my way through the crowd, enjoying myself as I try to find the perfect time to overtake those in front of me and avoid collisions. I finally reach room 6-120 and find that I have arrived just in time. So 8.012 (aka the classical mechanics class that requires way more brainpower than I can give), what’s it going to be? More gyroscope problems that literally make my head spin (as Carmela nicely put it while we were p-setting last Thursday)? I look around to find a yellow CAUTION tape, marking off an area, almost like a crime scene. Professor Zwierlein sure knows how to keep up the suspense. What could that strange looking apparatus be?
“Today, for the first time, we are going to be able to measure the gravitational forces between two masses.” The Cavendish experiment… yet another experiment that was apparently “stolen” from another scientist. I have no clue what this is, but I sure hope it’s better than gyroscopes – I’ve had enough of them! I listen carefully, pushing through my sleepiness, and follow as the professor writes equations on the board. Most of the students stare at the moving laser beam on the wall as it oscillates back and forth because of whatever is happening inside that mysterious silver box. I guess we are easily amused. After calculating the value for G, the gravitational constant, using oscillation amplitude data, Professor Zwierlein puts up this image on his slideshow:
“You see this picture? That orange circle is the sun. And that tiny blue dot? That’s the size of the earth compared to the sun. Now if you ever think ‘I’m so awesome, CHYEAH I’m at MIT’…” Everybody giggles. HA! I love it when he says chyeah. Too bad Shadab couldn’t come to this lecture – she would’ve loved it. So…the graph of our oscillations turns out to be close to useless – so much for the fancy new equipment!
Oh yeah, I’m skipping bio recitation. Again. Edgerton Student Shop to meet Shadab – don’t go the wrong way. I head out of the lecture hall and find my way over to Vassar Street. I’ve been here for over two months and I’m still useless when it comes to directions! I actually get there without hesitating, taking a different route than I’m used to – shocking.
For two people who have no clue how to use most of the workshop equipment, we’ve done a pretty good job of building our 8.012 project so far. It’s not professional or anything, but it will do. Yes, more 8.012, the class that eats up our lives. Remind me, why did I take this class? We add the finishing touches to our coupled pendulum system, and I walk over to LaVerde’s to get a sandwich for lunch. I’m too impatient to wait in line somewhere else to get food, so I’ve limited my choices to LaVerde’s and….LaVerde’s. I’m always in a rush even when I’m not supposed to be. My feet try to move faster than my body allows them to as I cross the Kresge Oval on my way back to my dorm. I must get there quickly so that I can have time to watch a full episode of The Vampire Diaries, and then I’ve got to run to 18.02A. What would I do without TV shows? I really do think they keep my sanity intact.
Walking down the steps of 26-100, I spot Beth, Meryem and Lourdes sitting in our usual seats, and I join them. Professor Behrens, overly excited as expected, uplifts my mood and makes maths exciting – dropping in words like “sneaky” and “slick,” his most common adjectives, as he teaches us about multivariable functions. As always, he crams in a brand new concept in the last five to ten minutes, entertaining us with his jumpy nature and high-speed attempts to cover everything and finish on time.
Yes! No more (thinking) classes for the day. I head over to the Z centre for my ice-skating PE class, put on my figure skates and grab a helmet. I still don’t get why I have to wear this thing. I’ve been skating for as long as I can remember! Great…all of the helmets have a metal cage facemask – just what I need. I get onto the ice, distracted by the metal wire obstructing my vision, but it doesn’t stop me from being amused by the hockey-like method of instruction. No more graceful figure skating coaches for now. The coach yells “ICE SKATE” before each drill, galvanising us into motion, and continues to add comments like: “Noor, you make it look easy,” “Maryam, nice cross-overs,” “Where’s that smile? Why so serious?”
I get back to my room, wishing I could sleep until the next morning, or more realistically, take a nap. I know I shouldn’t. It seems as though no matter how long I sleep, I am always tired. I think that’s what MIT does to you. Either that, or you become immune to a lack of sleep –but not me! I think I value sleep more than I ever have before. I always find it hard to start working as soon as I get back, and today is no different. Without realising it, I end up on iTunes, searching for newly released albums and before I know it, almost an hour has passed. Stop doing nothing useful, come on…WORK! Why does time pass so quickly?
I am so glad that this is not a regular week. We have no bio p-set due Friday. So there’s no need for our group of ten or more girls to p-set on Thursday night, debating the answers to the obscure and sometimes tricky questions. There’s no 18.02A p-set due Thursday to meet up with Beth, Meryem and Lourdes to check through. Most importantly, there’s no 8.012 p-set due Friday to spend hours struggling through with Shadab, Carmela and Sophia. That does mean that we don’t have an excuse to order fro-yo to uplift our moods, but it buys us an extra week to think about starting our next p-set. All this sounds great, but as soon as Thanksgiving break is over, it’s going to be one bumpy ride.
Feeling like I haven’t accomplished anything great, I go downstairs to the McCormick Dining Hall to meet up with Shadab, Muneeza, Lina, Eta, Majdolene, and any of our other friends who happen to be there at the same time. Walking into the dining hall to the scent of food just makes me wish I could be eating my mum’s home-cooked food instead. I can almost smell kabab fresh off the grill, authentic hummus, rice and vegetables prepared in a fusion of Iraqi and Palestinian cuisines. If only I could just taste it. As we roam around, trying to find something to eat, I hear Lina muttering that there’s nothing good to eat. The food is not too bad, but I totally understand where she’s coming from. Nothing beats Arabic food, after all. OK, maybe we’re a little biased. As always, Majdolene gravitates towards the stir-fry station, Lina ends up eating Fruit Loops for dessert, and I make do with whatever fish dish has been prepared for this evening. An hour later, I realise that I really should get going – we’ve done enough talking for one meal. I should pay more attention to the time…
As I get back to my room, I decide to check to see if any of my school friends are on Skype, since I haven’t spoken to them in a while. As I do so, I notice that the bracelet my mum gave to me a few years ago is missing. I panic. The L emoticon literally describes my facial expression. Where did it go? How did I not realise that it’s not on my wrist? Where could I have lost it? I frantically look around my room, hoping to find it behind my books, underneath my rug, in my bag, somewhere. But nothing. I look around the bathroom floors, use a flashlight to investigate the sink drain. Still nothing. I don’t even know how I could possibly retrace my steps – I haven’t got even the faintest idea where it could be. Note to self: never wear anything with sentimental value on a daily basis, especially not something so delicate. I instinctively take off my other two dainty bracelets – I can’t lose those too – and I replace them with a chunkier bracelet my friends gave me, keeping my wrist from feeling bare. I convince myself that there’s no point in thinking about it anymore tonight. There’s nothing I can do about it – I’ve got to get back to work.
Once I get ready for bed, I finally get to enjoy my favourite part of the day. I lie in bed clasping my fuchsia pink pillow, wishing my bracelet could appear out of nowhere, and I let my mind wander. My mind is like the inner workings of a clock, continuously ticking and buzzing with thoughts. No matter how hard I try to switch if off, there is always a reminder that surfaces. Don’t forget your meeting with Michelle tomorrow. Don’t forget to stock up on groceries. Look everywhere you possibly can for your bracelet – BE CAREFUL NOT TO LOSE ANYTHING FROM NOW ON!
I close my eyes hoping all my reminders will be remembered and that anything unsettling will be forgotten…deep in the midst of the dark and unknown waters of my dreams.
Noor Khouri, a British MIT student originally from the Middle East, has lived in the desert-turned-metropolis of Abu Dhabi for all of her childhood. With quite a multicultural background, she identifies both Abu Dhabi and London as her homes. Family and friends are of utmost importance to her and she can often be found in their company enjoying lengthy conversations, listening to music and watching films. In stark contrast to the hot and humid climate she’s used to, her favourite sports are in fact winter sports; she loves to ski and figure skate. Whenever she has free time to spare (a rare occurrence at MIT), she loves to paint and draw with a fine attention to detail.