Between the Lines, the international writing camp that brings together Russians, Americans, and Arabs, began this past Saturday here in Iowa City. I am one of four counselors, in charge of 34 kids total (22 girls, 12 boys. Why are women unequivocally more drawn to writing than men?) We worked all weekend, receiving them at the airport and bringing them to the dorm, Burge Hall, where we all live for the next two weeks. On Saturday I had my first scare, when I brought them downtown for a tour and lost every one of them. But as they are in high school, they managed to find their way back. Every kid is so far wonderful. The Russians all speak Russian of course, but for Arabs it's a bit different, as Arabic varies in dialect between the Levant and North Africa. I've found that I can practice both my Arabic and my French, speaking the former with the Levantees and the latter with the North Africans. One of the Russians recited some untranslated Pushkin to me, and now I am eager to learn Russian as well.
Tonight we karaoke with the Iowa Young Writer's Studio. The Russians have been preparing all late-afternoon!
Worst part: lofted dorm room bed. Several near-accidents already, must figure out how to get down without slipping.
Tonight we karaoke with the Iowa Young Writer's Studio. The Russians have been preparing all late-afternoon!
Worst part: lofted dorm room bed. Several near-accidents already, must figure out how to get down without slipping.
