Peruvian presidential candidate campaigns for votes... in New Jersey

Could you imagine Obama flying to France to rev up American ex-pats to get out of their cafés and vote in the 2012 election? Well that’s basically what Peru’s leading presidential candidate is doing tonight, right here in N.J.

Keiko Fujimori- congresswoman and daughter of a former president- will be the keynote speaker at a Paterson charity event- not only to help raise money for poor kids, but also to court votes from the largest émigré community from the South American country.

She’s got a good reason for doing so. Peruvian immigrants, who send billions of dollars in remittances home each year, remain actively involved in Peruvian politics, even while living abroad. One community leader recalled that during the 2006 election, the line of Peruvian Americans voters stretched four blocks, according to a report in NorthJersey.com.

The census says there are 66,000 Peruvians living in N.J., but community leaders believe there could be as many as 200,000- that’s so significant that the Peruvian government built a consulate in Patterson- only 15 miles from its other one in New York City, said the report.

Some interesting facts about Fujimori taken from Business Week:

• As a descendent of Japanese immigants, she is considered a minority

• Her father, former President Alberto Fujimori, is a political prisoner. In 2009, he was sentenced to 25 years in prison for human rights violations.

• She got her MBA from Columbia University, where she met her American husband

• She was elected to Congress in 2006 at the age of 19

Why I go to Platters (and why you should go too)

The Europeans enjoy long multi-coursed meals served on fancy plates. But at Seton Hall, there’s a group of us that have our own idea of a three-hour meal, and it’s not European.

One course, one platter- that’s all you need when you visit the Halal street stand on 53rd and 6th in New York City.

Known to regulars as “Platters”, Halal Chicken and Rice is one of those places that make college kids speak poetry. No joke. Twenty-one year old, beer-guzzling men speak of Platters like King Solomon spoke of his beloved or Romeo of his fair Juliette.

To anyone that’s ever ventured there, that’s no surprise. The food is enough to make even the most snobbish epicurean weak in the knees: Perfectly seasoned lamb (or chicken) tossed on a bed of yellow rice and warm pita, topped with a generous serving of “white sauce”, and if you have good taste and a strong stomach- the legendary, hot sauce. And you can’t beat the price: $6 for a platter, and $4 a gyro.

But as any Platters regular will tell you: It’s not just about the food, Platters is an experience. As a Seton Hall student, visiting the legendary street stand meant scrounging for cash (no credit cards accepted), finding drivers (who can maneuver NYC taxi cabs), gathering a group (at least 5-strong), and setting aside at minimum, 3 hours to drive there, eat, and return.

Most importantly, Platters is never planned. One person says, “Hey want to go to Platters?”- usually around midnight, and usually the night before an early-morning class. Hesitation and rational debate ensues, but eventually, logic surrenders to passion, ego bows to id, and before you know it, you find yourself in a car with too many people, hungry and dancing to “You know you want me” as it blasts on the radio.

I always enjoyed Platters myself, but as a type-A nerd, involved in too many activities and enrolled in too many classes my sophomore year, Platters was also a cause of heart-palpitating anxiety- symptoms of shirking assignments, putting off never-ending emails, and going to class too tired the next day- if I woke up. But thankfully, I always had friends that dragged me on monthly, sometimes weekly pilgrimages, despite my protests and pouting.

Now as a slightly-less-than-type-A graduate, I realize that those irrational excursions were in a way, just as important as the meetings and the lectures which consumed so much of my time in college. The people that joined me for Platters runs, I now consider some of my best friends, and even though they will be dispersed around the country and around the world next year, we’ll always share the memories of those ridiculous nights of laughter, traffic, and of course, savory baby sheep.

I’m still a nerd, I still get work done on time, but because of those friends, I live my life by a slightly different clock. Take this piece of prose for example. In less than 6 days, I will be taking the GRE, an exam which will determine which offices I sit in for the next fifty years of my life. If my Asian dad saw me writing a street-food review for my not-for-profit blog at this moment, he would freak, FREAK. And so would nineteen-year old Grace.

But for now, I am just happy. I’m happy because I am doing something I love (writing), writing about the people I love (you know who you are), and reminiscing over some of the best nights we ever shared. And although there probably won’t be another Platters reunion until, oh, next month, at this moment, those memories are enough.

Grace's phone falls to sudden, tragic death

NEWARK -- A single-hinged black cellular device - otherwise known as “My Phone” - came to a tragic, silent death this morning after plunging three feet from Grace’s desk at The Star Ledger office in Newark, New Jersey.

For several months, the enV2 flip-phone was literally “hanging on” for dear life after a violent tug-a-war between Grace and an anonymous Sri Lankan left the device with only one hinge.

Despite repeated offers from her dad to replace the phone, Grace kept “My Phone”, hoping it would make it through the rest of the summer.

“I only have a month or so left before I leave for Indonesia, why bother replacing it now?” Grace remembered telling her Dad.

But Grace’s dream of sharing the summer with the 2008 phone came to an abrupt end when at approximately 10:12 a.m., Grace knocked the phone off her desk with one swipe of her right hand.

“I was reaching for the computer mouse… and then I saw if fall,” Grace said recalling the life-changing moment, “It fell without hardly a sound. I was shocked when I saw my phone laying there in two pieces.”

The phone had landed on carpeted floor under Grace’s desk, but experts say that months of opening and closing the device had worn away the single hinge which for months, had held the phone together.

“My initial reaction was- shoot, how will I know what’s for dinner?” said Grace who had been hoping to text her mother later that day.

The phone, which Grace has owned since the summer of 2009 was filled with hundreds of photos, saved text messages, and contacts, when it came to its sudden death.

“My Phone” is survived by its caretaker, Grace C, age 21, and enV3- "My New Phone"- which Grace will be using until she leaves for Indonesia.

Grace's number will remain unchanged.

Seton Hall alumnus exchanged in spy swap after pleading guilty to espionage

A Seton Hall alumnus was flown to Vienna today as part of a spy swap between the U.S. and Russia, after he - and 10 other Russians - pleaded guilty to acting as unregistered agents for Russia.

When the story first broke, it sounded like a bad joke. The week of June 27 was a-buzz with news about the 11 Russians that had been arrested on charges of espionage. So when a friend told me that a fellow Seton Hall graduate was involved, I was in disbelief.

“One of the people arrested for spying is a Whitehead grad from 08!” he said in a Facebook message on June 29, “His name is Mikhail Semenko. pretty crazy huh?

A simple Google search and a thick FBI report confirmed that the blue eyed Russian- known on campus as “Misha”- was a suspect in one of the largest espionage crackdowns in U.S. history.

As I pursued the story, I uncovered details which seemed to come straight out of a Hollywood script.

Semenko came to the U.S. in 2005 on a student visa to pursue a dual masters degree in diplomacy and international relations/ Asian studies at Seton Hall’s Whitehead School of Diplomacy. Whitehead students that I interviewed, described him as a “normal” guy who was involved in school clubs, regularly attended lectures, and enjoyed socializing at parties.

“He really just seemed like every other student,” said Molly Holzbauer from the class of ’08.

But authorities said the 28-year old was a budding Russian spy.

During an alleged conversation with an undercover FBI agent, Semenko revealed that he had spent weeks with the Russian foreign intelligence service, learning how to secretly share messages on wireless computer networks. That conversation led to a meeting during which the undercover passed him $5,000 and a map which showed where to hide it for a fellow spy. Hours later, Semenko was arrested.

Seton Hall alumni, many who had learned of the arrest through an alumni Facebook group, were shocked by the news.

After all, Semenko, who grew up on the Russia-China border always seemed more interested in China than in U.S. foreign policy. He was actively involved in the Chinese Student Association at Seton Hall and fellow members recall being impressed by his fluent Mandarin. He taught English while traveling in China and also kept a blog on the Chinese economy which won him kudos from Steve Clemens, an analyst for a prestigious D.C. based think-tank.

But he didn’t try hard to downplay his Russian identity either. His latest job was at a Russian travel agency and at school, Semenko was involved in the Slavic club. He even helped teach some of the elementary Russian language classes when a professor left on maternity leave, students recalled. A Russian-language professor who described Semenko as “sweet” and “innocent” hung up on me when I asked for an interview.

“We had joked around that he was a Russian spy, but never took it seriously,” said one friend who shared classes with Semenko.

An Ode

Dear Joe,

I never imagined that I would be writing these words to you.

I still remember how as a young freshman in college, I wouldn’t even give you the time of day. Sure I was curious, and yeah, you’re hot and I saw how all my female friends were gaga over you- but I was new to college, ready to save the world and happy just being me, alone and independent.

Sometimes I regret that we didn’t start things sooner, but I’ve come to realize that it was actually the time apart that has helped me to appreciate the role you play in my life today.

I will never forget that first day things started happening between us. Sophomore year: It was a late night in the library and I had already been sitting in my dusty cubicle for eight hours, desperately cramming for my Honors final. Then my best friend came over and suggested that we take a “study break” at the campus coffee shop.

Right.

I mean c’mon, everyone knew that you would be there that night. I had always been good at saying no, but that night was different- perhaps I was a little crazed from all the studying or maybe I was influenced by the teaching of the Greek philosophers I was reading- whatever the reason, that night, I did something different, I said yes. And that first step brought me to you.

You ended up coming back with me that night. And through that night, I realized that you are not only strong, dark and bold, but that you can also be smooth and sweet. I still remember being blown away by how you not only satisfied by desires but stimulated my mind. Maybe I stayed up a little later than I should’ve, but I can honestly say that you were the one that got me through that night. And guess what? The next day I aced my Honors final.

That was the beginning of our young romance. From that day forward, I began seeing you on a daily basis and you even started becoming a part of my circle of friends. I won’t go into detail about the rest of our relationship since you already know what happened. Like with any relationship, we had our ups and downs. There were sometimes days where I was okay without seeing you, but in the end, I’d always come back.

As the days and months passed, I got more adventurous with you, wanting to try new things in new places. My friend who’d introduced me to you that one fated day in the library was surprised, but happy for us. “I always knew you’d give in,” she’d say to me, shaking her head.

Then there was the dry period. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but one day I just freaked out, like completely bugged out. I began to realize that I was slowly losing that independent self-confidence I once had. My friends had already begun noticing this about me, but for a long time I was in denial. Finally, I had to face the facts. I haven't told this to anyone but there were actually times where I felt like I couldn’t go on with my life unless I could wake up every day to your familiar smell or be with you later that day.

And that’s how the break began. It was long and painful, and every time I ran into you at the library or in the coffee shop, I’d be flooded with the memories that we shared together. Throughout this time, you never forced yourself on me, but you were always there, waiting for the day I’d come back to you- back to you like I always had.

But I didn’t, at least not right away. I moved on with my life, finding other things to pass the time and keep me going. I started sleeping longer, exercising and spending more time talking on the phone. I even met a few new guys. I was happy. I thought I’d make it through the summer, but then I got this job at The Star Ledger and the walls all came crumbling down again. It was Sophomore year all over again.

After getting only four hours of sleep, waking up at the crack of dawn, and staring at my computer for five hours straight, I realized that I just couldn’t be without you any longer. I told my boss that I would be back and that I needed to see you and surprisingly, he was very understanding.

“Trust me! I’ve been there,” he said with a good-natured laughed.

I dropped everything that I was working on and headed for the doorway. I walked through all the familiar bends in the hallway and directly to the kitchen where I knew you would be waiting.
And there you were, a perfect, hot, fresh pot of my favorite brew.

Since that moment, I haven’t gone a day without you. And you know what? I’m okay with that now. Yeah you sometimes make me shake uncontrollably and yeah you make me pee more than I ever did before, but that’s okay because when I am with you, I feel like a new and yes, a better person. So I want to just conclude this by saying, thank you Joe. Thank you for all that you have done for me and all that you have gotten me through.

I am proud to declare that I am addicted to you and to proclaim that even if I occasionally go for tea, I will never leave you.

Here’s to us!


Sincerely,

Grace