An Ivy League Impostor

I'm spending the weekend in sunny but cold New Haven, Connecticut. My good friend Monisha (former Dhaka roomate) and I have been cooking and catching up all weekend. I'm tapping away on my blog right now at the prestigious Yale Law library. I feel like an impostor or something, jeez.

It's been fun and good for the soul to get out of Worcester and spend some time with someone I pretty much consider a blood sister. She is my closest (and one of my only) Bengali friends, and its fun to be around someone who laughs when I suddenly exclaim "eesh, ki baje gondho!" or something like that. Monisha is like the older sister I never had. Yale's campus is beautiful but still seems surreal to me. All of the buildings--including the gym--are fashioned like ornate gothic churches. Some medeieval-inspired architect has managed to cram an arch or gargoyle into every possible square inch of the campus. It's really quite overwhelming. I feel like I'm on a movie set for King Lear.

Yesterday we walked by a graveyard which M. explained to me was historically significant since "presidents and stuff" were buried there. To me, the most impressive thing about the place was the inscription in the imposing red stone gate that read: "The dead shall be raised." I wonder what that would be like for the people working at the Kinko's across the street?