I’m going to preface this with: I am not much of a cook, in fact it’s probably offensive to even use that word to describe me, but I just made something that I am going to share and hopefully someone that is worthy of the “cook” title can make it and tell me if it’s any good.

Recipe:

2.5 cups of rice

1/2 of a red and orange pepper(Chopped)

2 Mushrooms(Chopped)

1 Onion(Chopped)

2 cups of Green Beans(Chopped)

3 Eggs, scrambled

2 carrots(Ch-I think you get the idea)

Spices (all used to the chefs discretion): Garlic Powder, Cracked Pepper, Salt, Curry Powder, tiny(I stress TINY) bit of wasabi powder, SRIRACHA(I think you get the picture).

Add in your favorite drink, and some punk rock music and tell me what you think.

Signed,

Mitch

 

I just finished reading the book Night by Elie Wiesel, and I can, with ease, say it is one of the most profound, disturbing, and important books I have ever read. Wiesel contextualizes the book by saying, in the preface:

“Could men and women who consider it normal to assist the weak, to heal the sick, to protect small children, and to respect the wisdom of their elders understand what happened [in the camps]? Would they be able to comprehend how, within that cursed universe, the masters tortured the weak and massacred the children, the sick, and the old?” (Wiesel 10).

My answer to the aforementioned questions is, quite simply, no. I, sitting in my comfortable bedroom in a solidly upper-middle class neighborhood, moons and galaxies away from the hell that was Auschwitz and other concentration camps, or, as Wiesel called them, “the Kingdom of Night,” can hardly conceptualize that such atrocities happened anywhere on the face of this planet, much less that men perpetrated these atrocious acts against their brethren. I cried many times as I read Night, but my tears did not bring me any closer to understanding the experiences that so many had at the camps.

The fact that I cannot, nor will I ever, be able to fathom what happened at these concentration camps makes remembering them and all those who suffered there all the more important. Such memory is true with other heinous acts that mankind has both perpetrated and been victim to. I will never forget the trip that my family took to Ghana when I was a rising seventh grader; this was one of the earliest times where my eyes were opened to the long history of humanity inflicting horrors on itself. I was extremely excited to explore the country of my family’s origin for the first time, and I hoped to traipse all over Ghana and see every last bit of what the country had to offer.

My family’s adventures brought us to Elmina Castle, which was a known slave castle and slave-trading hub, where many Ghanaians and people from all over the African continent (particularly from West African nations) departed from everything they had known and loved for their entire lives. At this castle, there was a point called “The Gate of No Return,” which was appropriately marked with a skull and crossbones over the doorway. Standing there, even though I was only an eleven year old, I felt a profound sadness as I walked through the gate that served as a true testament to human suffering and the atrocities that we have the capability of inflicting upon each other. However, sad as I was in that moment, and upset as I still feel when I think about it and look back at the pictures of that gate, I will never truly have a way of understanding the suffering that took place at that site.

My mention of the horrors of Elmina Castle, Auschwitz and other concentration camps is in no way to try and conflate the struggles that different groups of people faced at completely different points in time; rather, I aim to point out that the human race has decayed and regressed into darkness at various points in time due to our inability to value our neighbor and see the differences between us and those around us as things to be cherished, not abhorred. Too often and too quickly, we, as humans, forget about our long history of terrorizing one another. We must look to the past– our errors– our abuse of one another, and from that foundation, look around at where we are now, look to the future, and strive to do better. We must work to ensure that no one in our generation, nor in future generations, has to suffer as others have suffered, nor endure the despair that accompanies the knowledge that one is seen as less than human. Above all, we must each remember ourselves, and pay homage to those who have been lost to human barbarity by making sure that all of those around us remember, too.

-Ewurama Appiagyei-Dankah

That’s a wrap, the semester is finally over. My second year of college is finished. I made many new friends this past year, dare I say it: best friends. The endless laughs, jokes, and conversations we had will stay with me for a lifetime. But now what? Now we move onward into the frightening future. Many of my friends, including myself, are leaving the country at one time or another. The countries consist of: India, Belgium, Turkey, Azerbaijan, France, Italy, and countries in Africa (it’s my fault I wasn’t attentive enough when my friend told us where she was going, I apologize).

While I am happy and ecstatic for all of my friends, and me, for broadening our horizons–I feel a little sad. Our band of misfits and rabble-rousers will not be whole for quite some time, in fact a long time. Many of my friends will be graduating in the upcoming year, others to internships that will take them across the country. The band of WILBs that we crafted and created is scattering to the wind.

That being said, I never had the chance to say in person how much these people mean to me (mostly because I hate being sappy, and I can’t deal with tears from either myself or others), also because I like to wait and write it out. There are too many of you to name, and you all know who you are so I’ll just get into it: thank you, thank you for being my friend. Whenever I needed someone to talk to you were always there, always ready with a joke to lift my spirits. Always engaging in interesting conversation(no matter how explicit), always down to play games both the card and board variety(and smash bros, can’t forget smash bros). We always had fun when we were together, we danced, sang and rejoiced in each others company. It was a wild ride.

As we continue to grow and march forward into the our respective futures I just want to make one thing clear: WILB is not a single person or idea, it is a collection of people and collection of ideas that come together to create WILB.

I’ll leave you with this quote: “One person cannot be WILB. Only in the presence of other people can the WILB be revealed and crafted”- Wilbologist Titch.

Thank you.

Going into my Freshman year of college I was not expecting anything, anything at all. I was not expecting anything to be out of the ordinary. I expected to go to class, do my homework, join clubs, and meet new people. The last thing I expected was to find some of my best friends, and to travel half way across the world. Before we delve into the adventures that I took you have to get to know the freshman me, and trust me when I say this: he’s not that interesting of a kid.

Coming into Freshman year I was for all intents and purposes a nerd. I liked to play copious amounts of video games, I read a lot of books (mostly fiction), and I watched the most campy television shows. I was a recluse, very quiet, timid, and a dork. The first few weeks of freshman year I would go to bed at 9:30 p.m. while the other guys on my floor would stay up and do delinquent things. It wasn’t until one of those guys (who now I would consider one of my good friends) said: “why do you go to bed so early?” I didn’t know what to say, from then on I would stay up late shoot the shit and before I knew it I had become friends with just about everyone on the floor.

It was after a couple of encounters with my future roommate that he asked me: “Would you want to go to India with me?” I was stunned, I didn’t know what to say. I immediately started to think: “That’s an insane question to ask somebody, what the hell? I’ve only known this guy for half a year and he’s asking me to go to India!” Those thoughts were dashed out of my mind quickly, those were the thoughts of the old me, the one who would sit in his basement and play video games until 3 o’clock in the morning, the one who would only talk about what he had previously read in Game of Thrones, no it was time to “kill the boy” as Aemon Targaryen told Jon Snow to do (sorry I just really like Game of Thrones). I said “Yes” leaving it to the future Mitch to sort it out with his parents at a later date.

It was on a winter day sometime in 2015 when I told my father what my roommate had proposed. Asking with no hope that he would say yes, I was astounded when he said: “Yes, absolutely, just make sure he’s serious.” Elated I thought to myself: “Holy shit, I’m going to India.” As soon as I got back to school I asked my friend if he was serious about allowing me to go to India with him, his reply: “Yeah of course!” Holy shit, I was going to India.

 

Every week I will write a post about my time in India, not sure when exactly it will come out just expect every week.