Oh it's good to be back. Before I tell you what's been going on here, I have to let you know that this update is one of the highlights of my week. I'm overjoyed to be able to sit down and tell you what we've been doing, and the response I've gotten from you has been greater than I ever expected. So let's dive in!
As you recall, Caleb was gone last week and a few of us worked a practicum, so the school at the house was mostly review and exercise. This week, it picked back up as Leigh taught us new concepts in Geometry and arithmetic, showing us new approaches to multiplication and division. Monday was the first full day of the week. Later that day, after Caleb led the girls in choir and we all went to work, he took Laura Bos to Southern Pines to meet with a man called Danny Infantino, a recording artist who he hoped would be able to help produce Leigh Bortins' new audiobook, The Core. The meeting was very successful, and they began recording.
Back home in West End, the rest of us worked at our various internships until the evening. With the weight of our music performances hanging over our heads, we quickly settled into our houses and most of us began practicing. Caleb had assigned us the task two weeks before, telling us to find a song we had never played, and learn it by this Tuesday. Some were prepared, adding final touches, and some were only just getting started. The most confident relaxed, driving out to dinner. By the end of the night, the music had mostly died down. A few of the Fellows met out in the driveway, arranging chairs into a theater to watch a show together, honoring the rules which divide the villas after ten o'clock, relegating our gatherings to more public places. A few more of us went to the golf course to serenade the stars with our prepared melodies. The night ended peacefully.
The next morning, Leigh divided us into groups, those who excelled at SAT math, those who needed the most help, and the remaining, the poor saps in the middle, with me in the very center. The mathematical geniuses took tests at their own pace, while the other two groups plodded along, some working with Mrs. Leigh and some alone. We were all humming with excitement and nervous energy as lunch drew nearer and the performances with it. The numbers passed in a flurry and soon we were forming phalanxes of folding chairs around a single chair on the makeshift stage, the chair which would be our testing ground in the hour to come. One after another and pair by pair, we ascended to the chair and played for our Fellows.
By this point, we knew how well our classmates could play. We knew who came with years of training, who had learned by themselves through hours at home, and who were just starting to play at Mandala. Unsurprisingly, this performance reflected something completely different. Those who had practiced did well, and some of the best among us had underwhelming performances. We all had our turn, and we all made our mistakes— well, except for William. Elizabeth and Anna Harvey played a beautiful duet for the violin and clarinet. I strummed an old rock and roll song from the fifties, pausing to let people laugh at the impossibly rapid beat my nervous leg was drilling into the floor. William, that charismatic master of the friendly ukulele stepped to the front and strummed out a love song, singing through it again, now dedicated to and updated for our dear Sensei Skogen. We joined in the chorus, and left it at that: a job well done. So we left for work, one weight off our shoulders, another pressing a little harder. Our science projects were due at the end of the week.
I waited to tell you exactly what our project was, and now that the day has come and passed, I can disclose it fully. Our task was to build a working Chladni Plate, a resonating surface which displays sound waves made visible and demonstrates how they can travel through physical objects. We had split into three teams led by Austin, Christopher, and me, and these last few days were very busy as we all hurried to understand our plates. Christopher and I had ours finished by Tuesday night, built to the best of our understanding, but neither of them worked as they were supposed to. We spent the rest of the week developing them, but to no avail. When Friday came, our three teams gave our presentations, demonstrated our deficient plates, and discussed what might have gone wrong. Setting the plates aside, we resolved to revisit them after we return from Italy. Leigh collected feedback on everyone's experience with the project, and as soon as she gives it to me, I will write up a more detailed report.
The thread of Chladni wove in and out of the week, but we did more than build our resounding plates and clanging tables. For one thing, the doctor gave Ian the okay to take off his final boot, and now he's walking around without a limp or a stumble— fully heeled. Laura and I have been making the trip to Southern Pines every day after class. We've been enjoying spending time with Mr. Infantino, the charismatic old producer and as Laura read the first chapter of The Core, we discovered that he had had a classical education in college. He's drinking in the book, and we're developing a really neat relationship with him. We won't be recording with him tomorrow, because he's actually expecting the birth of his first child tonight. I'd really appreciate if you would keep him and his wife in your prayers tonight!
So our week came and went, and the weekend came along. Because it was the first Friday of the month, some of us were looking forward to the regular public gathering at the marina. That evening, we heard music and drove over. As we waited for more people to show up, we started to feel a little out of place as we realized we were the only white faces at the party. After ten minutes on the outskirts, I walked to the pavilions in the center, only to find out the regular event had been canceled and we had stumbled into a family reunion. Enlightened, we laughed and bowed out.
That evening, Anna, Zach, and I danced at the Copper Lodge until Leigh asked us for some advice on an art project. We spent the rest of the night hanging out with her, talking about interior design and her beautiful house. She guards her time well, and I felt privileged to simply sit and chat with her. When we got home, we found the villas mostly empty. Alec, Seth, and David Bortins had left earlier that day for a rugby tournament in Atlanta, and Gracsyn, Olivia, and Anna Gordon had gone home for the weekend.
Saturday was a wonderfully relaxed day, a great change of pace from the crazy week. We slept in, and a few of us went out on the lake. William, Michael and I went wakeboarding, along with Ian and his friend Race. We had a great time, only incurring mild sunburns, bruises, and slight sensations of drowning. While William towed us around the lake, Mrs. Bortins led an antiquing excursion with most of the remaining girls and some of their friends. We found ourselves together that evening, bonding over a nice pancake dinner. I even had a taste of home, real maple syrup, something I've been missing for the past month and a half. We closed the night out with a movie. As we watched, the rugby players returned as conquering heroes, bearing bronze medals and well-earned injuries. Most of us went to bed early that night, but a few people stayed behind at the house.
When I woke at seven that morning to get ready for the day, I decided that Saturday must be our day of rest. Anyway, Alec came around to get me for choir and we went to church. It was a great morning, and we spent the afternoon with Tobin, discussing existentialism, predestination, and squirrels. A few of us went on a nature walk with him, and we spent the rest of the day in relaxation.
Well, my evening here has been very long, with interruption after distraction. For the sake of promptness, or some semblance of promptness, I'll forgo describing the events of today, and leave that for another time. I'm off to find something to eat, and find a quiet hole to sleep in.
Au revoir,
Barnabas
Once again, the SAT process has changed, and I don't have scores to report. We seem to be improving, little by little. More people are getting close to perfect scores, and the questions we're asking are getting more involved and intelligent.
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