Taking a cue from Scott, my favorite class had as much to do with the teacher as anything else. Larry Vilaubi was one of those once-in-a-lifetime teachers. He taught art history to a tough crowd: high school seniors. He did it with a fantastically sarcastic and irreverent sense of humor. No one was safe, not even Caravaggio.
Larry insisted we open our eyes and really look at the world around us. He gave us extra credit for seeing movies like Erendira, Gallipoli and Montenegro. Two of those movies were borderline porn (ok, art porn, so they were moody, pretty and had plot lines). The other was the most serious condemnation of war I had ever seen. Ok, I was 18 and didn't know much about war. I wasn't even sure I wanted to vote yet. Larry fixed all that.
Every year Larry took a dozen graduates on an art history tour of Europe that covered six countries in 30 days. For most of us it was the first time we'd left home much less traveled overseas. We hit all the big museums and lots of private galleries. We stayed in youth hostels and traveled by bus. We drank - a lot. We saw the Parthenon. The Eligin Marbles. The Sistine Chapel. The Tomb of the de Medicis.The Mona Lisa behind bullet proof glass. And so much more.
In Pompeii I did one of the stupidest things I've ever done in my life. I suffer from motion sickness and we were set to travel by ferry to Greece that afternoon, so in the morning I took some Dramamine in anticipation of the trip. Then, suffering from a very sick stomach, I took some prescription medicine I got from "my dad's a pharmacist" Billy. Then, because I was perhaps the silliest girl on earth at the time, and I thought that being 5' 7 and 108 lbs was not thin enough (I was an extremly picky eater at the time) I skipped my meals that day.
Pure brillance.
Sometime around noon we were walking around Pompeii marveling at the perfectly preserved city. It was fantastic. Until the room started to spin and I could no longer walk. I looked at Larry and said "I think I need to sit down" and he turned white as a sheet. He called his wife Adrian and the two of them took me outside to sit down. I didn't move again under my own steam for many hours.
Adrian kept telling me to breathe in and out, which was really annoying. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, why did they keep talking to me? It was so bright that I couldn't keep my eyes open and all I could hear were Larry and Adrian talking to me. "Breathe Karen. In and out. Good. Take another one. Really deep this time." Then, "Drink this." Someone pressed a can of putrid orange soda to my lips and made me drink it. GROSS! It helped right away. The shock of the sugar was enough to keep me from going under.
Larry picked me up and carried me across the city. I still couldn't open my eyes and had no idea where we were. We walked through some kind of outdoor cafe and bumped into a woman. "Oh my God!" she gasped. I thought, wow, I must look really awful right now.
Behind the cafe there was a place to lay down (I guess people pass out in Pompeii a lot) and I laid in one of those little beds for the better part of a day and night. Adrian, Larry and my fellow travelers took turns feeding me ice chips, and then tiny, rolled up balls of bread. After many hours I could sit up, but it was a full day or more before I could walk without assistance.
It turns out that when you mix Dramamine with anti-diarrheal medicine they play a fierce game of Fight Club in your brain. One drug is saying "move faster, move much much faster." The other drug is saying "slooooooow waaaaaaay dooooooown." Guess who wins?
No one.
The brain, in response to all of this stimulation, throws up it's hands and says "I quit." And since the part of the brain in question handles breathing and circulation, quitting is a really bad choice. If Adrian and Larry hadn't forced me to breathe, I might not have ever done it again. Wild, don't you think? (Of course this was not my mother's reaction, but that is a different story).
So I love Larry (and Adrian too). Not only did he take me on the best trip ever, and open up my life to the world of art, but he saved it as well.
What was (or is) your favorite subject in school?
Nice post!
Posted by: Laurel | 08/22/2006 at 11:40 PM
so glad to see you write about this, karen. as your mom, yeah, i guess my reaction to your near-death experience was a little more complex than "wild." :-)
BUT. as for vilaubi and the trip of a lifetime heoffered you and your classmates -- i always thought that was an amazing and invaluable opportunity for you. i campaigned to encourage your grandmother that it would be a terrific graduation gift, as you remember, and she would be sohappy to know that it still means so much to you even now.
we were, though, all very glad you made it home in one piece! yes -- no denying that!
Posted by: Peggy | 08/23/2006 at 02:36 AM
Wow, Karen, what a story. I'm glad you made it through in one piece too!
Posted by: vj | 08/23/2006 at 06:41 AM
I too am glad that you made it through this experience with only memories - that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger - now, was it Worf who said that, or some old latin guy?
Posted by: Bookmole | 10/11/2006 at 01:09 PM