"Gilgamesh" (Or, What Is Left of My Dream)
We were a small group of aspiring new Orientalists gathered around a round table at the university cafeteria, waiting to be introduced to it all by a student who had been around longer than us. It was my dream to become a Sumerologist, and now I was getting there. One of the fellow newbies, a 17 year old kid with thick glasses, wearing a suit and tie (so defying the current and previous generation's student attires) told us others: "I have put everything on one card." Skipping classes, he had already got deep into Classical Arabic and who knows how many other ancient languages. With my gap years spent working, I realised I had no chance of competing for the few Orientalist jobs there might be and that he aimed at becoming the professor and head of the department (which he, of course, happened). This was the start of my drifting away from my original dream to study cuneiform which represented the dawn of civilization and writing. Realism made me gravitate toward...