ART

An exploration of LA wall
art through social media
PAGE 6

CULTURE
Personal reflections on ethnic
identity and family background
PAGE 10
BY THE DAILY BRUIN
SPRING 2017
LIFESTYLE
City Guide | Malibu
PAGE 42

WAR
STORIES
UCLA student veterans, including Colt Gordon,
share their experiences through poetry and prose.
PAGE 16
 ad
9 LIFESTYLE
2
table of contents.

culture
6

mural, mural on the wall

chinese. filipino. american. me.
10

art

moving out moving on

13
hike LA | devils
punchbowl 16
war stories
46
26
the daily grind

lifestyle 42

36
taco the town
34
DIY | flower
pressing
30
behind the bouquets
40
recipe | empanadas
city guide | malibu COVER PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY
HANNAH BURNETT
LIFESTYLE
4
 letter
from the
editors
Dear reader,

Welcome to the last prime of the year! Were nearing the end of spring, and graduation nostalgia is in the air. prime
went out to see some of the best of Los Angeles, as well as hear stories from students we normally wouldnt hear from.
This quarters City Guide takes you to the coast of Malibu, while Hike LA takes you inland to the San Gabriel
Mountains. The infamous Paul Smith pink wall and other murals on the walls of Los Angeles are looked at in a different
light. We tasted and decided on the best taco in the city try it if you dont believe us. Or you could always use our
recipe for an excellent empanada. Exploring the beautiful Los Angeles Flower District piqued our interest in flower-
pressing. There are also personal stories about conflicting cultures, cultural expectations and what makes up a home.
We were given the opportunity to sit in a creative writing class comprised of student veterans. Their unforgiving wit and
humor comes forth in their writing, offering us insight into their lives.
With our last issue of the year, wed like to thank you, our readers. Its been a pleasure serving you as the 2016-2017
prime editorial staff.

Peace, love, prime,

Hayley McAvoy Maryrose Kulick Youngjun Park

Hayley McAvoy [ prime director ] [ daily bruin ]

Maryrose Kulick [ prime content editor ] Tanner Walters [ editor in chief ]
Youngjun Park [ prime art director ] Anjishnu Das [ managing editor ]
Emaan Baqai [ digital managing editor ]
[ writers ]
Adrija Chakrabarty, TuAnh Dam, Owen Emerson, Kuhelika Ghosh, Jeremy Wildman [ business manager ]
Maryrose Kulick, Youngjun Park, William Thorne, Andrew Warner,
Lindsay Weinberg, Kelly Yeo [ assistant managers ]
Caroline Dillon, Peyton Sherwood
[ photographers ]
Hannah Burnett, MacKenzie Coffman, Owen Emerson, Jintak [ advertising sales ]
Han, Maryrose Kulick, Axel Lopez, Keila Mayberry, Erin Rice, Ali Cazel, Elia Doussineau, Jessica Behmanesh, Danielle Renteria,
Lindsay Weinberg Pau Bremer

[ illustrators ] [ advertising production ]

Insun Park Nina Roman, Tara Afshar, Dylan Skolnik

[ designers ] Abigail Goldman [ editorial adviser ]

Bilal Ismail Ahmed, Umbreen Ali, Megan Le, Edward Qiao,
Isabelle Roy The Daily Bruin (ISSN 1080-5060) is published and copyrighted by the ASUCLACommunications
Board. All rights are reserved. Reprinting of any material in this publication without the written permission
Derek Yen [ copy chief ] of the Communications Board is strictly prohibited. The ASUCLA Communications Board fully supports
the University of Californias policy on non-discrimination. The student media reserve the right to reject
Hannah Brezack [ assistant copy chief ] or modify advertising whose content discriminates on the basis of ancestry, color, national origin, race,
[ slot editors ] religion, disability, age, sex or sexual orientation. The ASUCLA Communications Board has a media
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Chang Liu [ stack editor ] 2828 or email photo@dailybruin.com.

@dailybruinprime | SPRING
WINTER 2017
5
 L os Angeles, Im just trying to figure you out. When
I moved to Los Angeles for college, people told me
this city has a different culture, even compared to other
places on the West Coast. Ive found that LA does have its
own way of living life, full of quinoa, Lululemon and street
murals.
Now, the brunch thing I can get behind. But in a culture
of wall art selfies, Im still grappling with the idea that our
appreciation for artwork in Los Angeles has become reduced
to how Instagrammable it is.
You already know the most famous Los Angeles wall, the
Paul Smith pink wall on Melrose Avenue. Paul Smith Los
Angeles, a designer clothing store, opened in 2005 with its
outer walls painted pink in order to attract people driving
by.
Now, it lures thirsty millennials who wait in line in a
parking lot to use it as a photoshoot backdrop for a trendy
Instagram post.
#Pinkwall has more than 48,000 tags on Instagram, and
though not all of those are the Paul Smith wall, a good
portion of them are.
6
ART
This quarter, I drove to Melrose Avenue to check out the
pink wall for the first time in my three years at UCLA. A
security attendant had a booth in the Paul Smith parking
lot and said no professional cameras were allowed.
On a sunny afternoon, tourists squinted in line, waiting for
other people to finish their mini photoshoots because of the
limited space against the wall. To get a little more creative,
one woman reclined on the hood of her Jeep while a man
snapped photos of her with the wall in the background.
Tourists and locals come, wait in line, immediately turn
their backs on the art, put on an extra wide smile and then
check their phone to evaluate the photos. Its a desperate
assembly line; everyone wants the photos of the art, but
no one really looks at it. Its analogous to looking and not
seeing photographing and not experiencing.
Weve heard this all before, but Los Angeles seems more
seeped in this culture. The do it for the gram slogan
encourages me to make once-in-a-lifetime memories like
skydiving or trying escargots, but also makes me feel like
Im ignoring my surroundings to capture an artificial
moment for the sake of participating in a social media trend.
 mural,
mural
on the wall
During fall quarter, Carly Pierson was driving down
Melrose Avenue to get her computer fixed when she and her
dad passed by the pink wall.
Thats the famous wall! she said to her dad.
They dropped off her computer and decided to go take
pictures.
Hes, like, super LA, Pierson told me. He knew about
it, too.
Pierson was wearing pajamas at first but she had
some laundry in the car, so the third-year microbiology,
immunology and molecular genetics student changed outfits.
Using an iPhone, Piersons dad took photos of her and
they took selfies together. As a photographer, her dad was
excited for the backdrop and helped Pierson prep her hair.
Pierson put her leg on the wall for some imaginative
shots, but she said the parking lot guards yelled at her to
stop. She ended up posting a semi-candid photo on her
Instagram.
Pierson said the wall is a popular tourist destination for
her out-of-state and international friends, and murals are
also popular for their impact on social media.
WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY
LINDSAY WEINBERG
When Im scrolling through Instagram, Ill notice those
pink walls, she said. Those are the ones that will catch my
attention.
Growing up in Thousand Oaks, California, she said
mural art wasnt as trendy as it is now that she attends
UCLA. She has made friends from Wisconsin, Texas and
Connecticut, and they like traveling to Abbot Kinney
Boulevard for the murals. They take a new picture and post
it on Instagram, but they also make a day out of the trip to
Venice, she said.
Its a weird thing to think about that in earlier times,
before social media, the only people who would do that
would be photographers, Pierson said.
Jayne Skinner posted a photo of the pink wall
on Facebook as her profile picture. The fourth-year
psychobiology student traveled to the mural earlier this year
with the cast of Waitress in Concert, a show put on by
Positivity Productions on campus in March.
It was originally taken for the show, but I thought it was
a good picture and its fun to have the pink wall as your
profile picture, so I just kept it up after, she said.
@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017
7

The performers elected to go early one morning to avoid
crowds and have enough wall space to themselves for the
photoshoot.
Skinner said they chose the backdrop because it is an
iconic LA location. The UCLA students wanted to use it
for posters and social media advertisement for their musical
about a waitress in a southern town who becomes pregnant
unexpectedly.
Its very bright and vibrant, so its obviously an ideal
place to take pictures, she said. But I also think that its
become a landmark in its own right. Its not just because
the wall is pink its because its The Pink Wall. her camera roll was open so the friend could look through
After snapping selfies in front of the Melrose pink wall,
my friend and I crossed the street to Carrera Cafe, which
also has a wall mural on the side of its building. The
painting has changed from lip prints, to the La La Land
purple backdrop, to Lady Gagas Coachella logo. I went
during Coachella season and was greeted by a black and
white portrait of Lady Gaga surrounded by blue sky and
purple palm trees with Coachella blazoned across her
face.
My friend and I snapped some photos there, which I later
posted on my own Instagram account. The outdoor cafe
tables were pushed out of the way to create an optimal
photo op.
One woman leaned against the Coachella mural wearing
a lace shirt, beige pants, sandals, sunglasses and red
lipstick. She flipped her hair back in the bright sun.
We went inside the glass cafe and people-watched for
an hour. Customers came in wearing trench coats, denim
dresses, backpack purses, big sunglasses, pink shirts,
studded boots, beige blazers and Converse sneakers.
Its such a type of people that come, my friend
whispered to me.
8
ART
Its not ju
its becau
Half of the people in
the cafe could have been
Abercrombie models with
their Levis jackets, gold
chokers and blue-and-white
striped blouses.
People came in and out
of the coffee shop, which
had black-and-white tiled
floors and little succulents
on white tables. The words
Ciao Bella were lit up in
white on the cafe wall.
We had a view across the street of people posing like
Charlies Angels against the pink wall.
People continued to wait in line to take pictures with the
walls, but no one stood to really look at the art. Its all
just for digital display. The paintings arent meant to be
seen with eyes, but through a screen.
Inside Carrera Cafe, a teenage girl stood above a table
with her rose gold iPhone and snapped overhead photos of
four lattes with foam artwork that included a flamingo and
the word hello.
Another young woman handed her phone to her friend;
photos to pick the most Instagram-worthy one.
Meanwhile, a middle-aged woman silently read the
newspaper with her cup of coffee in the corner. Everyone
else had some cucumber Chobani whatever drink,
vinaigrette salad or iced coffee, their cameras snapping
away.
The coffees not that good, I said.
Thats not why people come, my friend laughed.
Most perplexing were two teenage girls with a pink
polaroid and a blue clutch wallet; they rotated tables inside
the cafe looking for the best lighting and poses. A woman
likely their mother came with them as if chaperoning an
exciting school field trip.
The lighting is so good! Oh I love that! Thats so
cute! Thank you so much, they giggled to each other.
The ice was melting in their cinnamon-topped lattes. But
thats not why people come.
Sure its fun to be bougie and take pink wall photos
and drink coffee next to succulents, but I always feel
like Im faking it. Im running through the motions of
participating in this LA culture, but I never feel like Im
the originator always the emulator.
Is there a real originator of LA culture? Does anyone do
t just because the wall is pink
ecause its The Pink Wall.
it solely for the pleasure or is everyone doing it to mimic artwork to its destination, like her with upcoming Tokyo
other photos theyve seen? piece. She added a pair of wings to the Chicago airport,
Its a trend or a fad in the most reductive sense. Its an and since the wall was after the security checkpoint, she
item to check off a list. We drive to go see a pink wall in had to be escorted by security guards with her tools and
order to get the photos to prove we did it. knives to the location.
Each pair has slightly different textures, colors and
A mural on the UCLA Extension building is trying to shapes, similar to how no two people are identical, she said.
send a bigger message than a shallow Instagram post. Miller gets lost in the work.
On Le Conte Avenue in Westwood, Los Angeles artist For Miller, the wings represent a positive message of
Colette Miller added a pair of purple wings to the building peace and divinity, but I noticed that they also demonstrate
facade in November. UCLA Extension officials asked Miller the principle of using fine art to post photos online.
to paint the wings to inspire students to have a passion for Social media users make digital copies of Los
lifelong learning. Angeles murals and post them on the internet for
Miller studied film at UCLA Extension in 2000 and mass consumption. Perhaps this is the new way art is
began the Global Angel Wings Project in Los Angeles in appreciated, more so than in museums. But I wonder if this
2012 to remind people that humans are angels on Earth. is fully consuming and digesting a piece of art unwrapping
She estimates she has painted more than 100 angel wings it and letting it sit on your tongue before swallowing.
around the world in places such as France, Cuba, Kenya, Our culture is viral akin to a disease.
New York City and Washington, D.C. Is it even adding to your life? my friend asked me about
I thought if you were in some dark alley or some the pink wall. You put it on social media, and then what?
crossroads in your decision and your consciousness, Its entertaining to visit the famous walls of Los Angeles,
wouldnt you like to be reminded of the goodness in but putting it on my social media should not be fulfilling.
humanity? Miller said. And thats where the wings Its hollow unless I truly appreciate the artists meaning,
technically birthed. like the angel wings symbolizing divinity.
When she painted her first pair of wings in downtown LA, Our lifestyle is about constructing false memories that
she didnt even have an Instagram. She didnt always sign never existed because we were too busy trying to capture
the murals. The intention was to give the world a reminder them. LA culture only exists online, but I want to live in
of mankinds angelic qualities. Now, Miller said sharing the real world.
the photos on social media enhances the
message, since it spreads the meaning
across the internet.
It came from a really sincere place,
really pure and childlike, ... of putting
this image out there that I feel is really a
divinity, she said. But I wasnt trying
to be hashtags.
Miller avoids putting hashtags on her
paintings because they clutter the image,
turning it into an advertisement and
detracting from the pure message of the
artwork.
Sometimes plaques next to the wings
will describe the Global Angel Wings
Project, sponsorships and hashtags, she
said. #Colettemiller has about 12,000
tags on Instagram.
Sometimes Miller travels to the
locations and sometimes she ships the
LIFESTYLE
10
 chinese.
filipino.
american.
me.
WRITTEN BY KELLY YEO
A s I posed for a photo outside the Shibuya 109 store
during my trip to Japan, a group of Japanese men
participating in the local Shinto festival, complete with
ceremonial garb, approached me and my friend and asked
me a question in Japanese. I shook my head, saying, Iie,
iie, in reponse the most direct translation of no.
Im sorry, I dont speak Japanese, I tried to explain.
You are Chinese, then? said one of the men.
Yes and no. I suppose, but Im American.
But youre Chinese, yes?
Yes, but my parents are from the Philippines. After a
pause, they went back to preparing to carry the elaborate
decorated floats, most likely confused by my response.
They wouldnt be the first in that regard, but they were
the first in Asia. As with so many other times in my life,
people attempting to assign me an ethnicity and by
extension, a cultural identity failed to grasp the reality
of what it means to be an ethnically Chinese, American
citizen by way of Southeast Asia, born and raised in the
Los Angeles area. Say that five times fast.
For most conversational purposes, the easy answer to
the somewhat pointed question of What are you? or
more directly, What is your ethnicity? is that I am
Chinese. However, I know little about Chinese culture
beyond what textbooks and the internet have taught
me. I also barely speak Chinese, aside from a few words
courtesy of my parents ill-fated attempt to have me learn
from a Mandarin tutor over two consecutive middle school
summers.
Usually the interrogation ends there, a question mark
left dangling for many, but not compelling enough to
delve in further.
One might call me a stereotypical case of whitewashing
I am, after all, a person of color whose primary
language is English and whose grasp of my familys
culture is tenuous at best. Its a derogatory term, yes, but
in many ways, its true I was raised during a historical
moment of supposed post-racial colorblindness without
PHOTO BY JINTAK HAN
a firm grasp on a particular culture beyond the vast
American one. In my definition, whitewashing is when a
person of color is stripped of all background and culture,
left empty and ready to be filled with the greater, white-
centric U.S. culture, cast into the long-hailed American
melting pot, to emerge an American through and through.
However, the reality is much more complicated than
the typical case of American assimilation. The truth is
that I am Chinese Filipino, a little-known minority in
the Philippines. Yes, there are Chinese people in the
Philippines as there have been since the 16th century,
when Manila became home to the worlds first Chinatown.
My mother is part-Filipino: Her great-grandmother was a
Filipino woman, a maid in China who carried on an illicit
affair with her employer.
In the Philippines at least, Chinese people are a
distinctive minority with a particular subculture, although
a large portion of them marry other Filipinos. Both sets
of my grandparents came to settle in the Philippines
before World War II, and although family lore doesnt
delve into economic push-pull factors, the Communist
Partys tightening grip on the rural Fujian province likely
had something to do with it.
If the asker of the question has a few minutes or seems
somewhat interested, I might launch into a convoluted
historical explanation of the Southeast Asian Chinese
diaspora and how populations of ethnically Chinese
people have blended into various Southeast Asian
countries including the Philippines, Thailand, Malaysia,
Vietnam and Indonesia. Members of this diaspora tend
to come from the coastal Chinese province of Fujian and
speak a dialect of Chinese similar to Taiwanese Hokkien.
My cultural identity is something of an enigma, neither
here nor there in terms of Chinese and Filipino. My
parents, despite both having been born and brought up in
the Philippines before moving to the United States, retain
a strong sense of Chinese identity even though they have
never visited the country, and we dont have any relatives
11
@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017
 we know of residing there. On the other hand, I frankly
dont feel Chinese, from not understanding Fujian, my
parents common language, to not celebrating Lunar New
Year. What one might recognize as Chinese food wasnt
something you could find in my familys kitchen, and I
only became acquainted with it, like most Angelenos,
through the various notable restaurants of the San
Gabriel Valley.
As a toddler, Id mix up my Bs and Vs, and later
landed in English as a second language classes after an
administrative mix-up coupled with a slight but clearly
discernible Filipino accent in kindergarten. Id use words
in English syntax like basura and calavera, loanwords
from Spanish in my mothers Filipino dialect of Visaya.
Every summer as a child, Id fly to visit my mothers
family in Cebu City, where wed feast on lechon and
balut. My distant Filipino relative, who acted as my
nanny and grandmother figure, raised me as a God-
fearing Catholic. My parents have Spanish names and in
naming my sister and me, followed the Spanish-derived
convention of keeping my mothers maiden name as our
middle names. But I could hardly call myself Filipino
and still cant either from an experiential perspective or
a phenotypic one.
Nevertheless, I hoped halfheartedly that Id find my
cultural roots at UCLA, where my physical appearance
lets me blend into the crowd. After all, Asian and Pacific
Islander domestic students make up approximately a third
SOMETIMES I
FEEL ANGRY,
FRUSTRATED
AT THE LACK
OF FIRM
CULTURE I
CAN PROUDLY
CALL
MY OWN.
12
CULTURE
of the undergraduate student population. But in my time
here, Ive little been able to relate to Samahang Pilipino
or the Association of Chinese Americans speaking
neither Tagalog nor Mandarin, my experience is squarely
somewhere else. I could count on one hand the number
of other students Ive met who are mixed Filipino and
Chinese.
Among ethnically Chinese and Taiwanese friends
and acquaintances I met during my first year, I found
myself repeating over and over that my family didnt
celebrate Lunar New Year. My ethnicity, at introductory
conversations at club meetings and parties, always
came with an explanation. Over the past four years Ive
realized more than ever that I do not fit neatly carved
out identities exemplified by cultural organizations such
as Samahang Pilipino and the Association of Chinese
Americans.
Ive come to learn that my ethnic identity defies
traditional confines, as much as it travels within them.
My academic knowledge of Chinese culture substitutes
nicely in conversations with Chinese- and Taiwanese-
American friends. Among Southeast Asians, both
domestic and international, I recognize my fathers lah
when he speaks on the phone to his family members. I
talk to Singaporean and Malaysian students and surprise
them with my love of SkyFlakes and Milo. Visiting
the Philippines again the summer after my first year
at UCLA, I stuck out like a sore thumb, even among
my mothers family. That being said, I definitely am
reminded, at times painfully, I still play the role of
perpetual foreigner, like many Asian and Pacific Islander
Americans, from the way people ask twice over, Where
are you from? to the times I was called racial slurs in
high school.
More than anything, Ive realized I will always
somewhat play the role of chameleon and that perhaps,
for someone like me, there is no real niche to fit into. I
am a product of the Southeast Asian Chinese diaspora,
further displaced onto American soil. The pieces of my
culture have been lost, transformed or merely molded
into something entirely new. This is the quilt flag I stitch
together, to wave in the air at people, whether abroad
or here, to declare yes, this is my identity, a patchwork
of information and experiences answering those usual
questions: Where are you from? What are you? What do
you identify as?
Sometimes I feel angry, frustrated at the lack of firm
culture I can proudly call my own, wondering if in a few
generations time my familys culture, either Filipino or
Chinese, will be long forgotten. If I have children, I hope
to remind them that this complex origin story can be
empowering, even if its rather convoluted. I relish my
mouthful of words and explanations that do not fit neatly
like other hyphenated Americans. I know as long as I
hold on to the cultures I fall in between and remember
these stories and moments, both historical and personal, I
will not be dissolved into the greater homogeneity of the
American melting pot and that I will not be, simply put,
whitewashed.
moving
OUT
moving
ON
WRITTEN BY TUANH DAM
PHOTO BY KEILA MAYBERRY

13

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

T here were few things I hated more than
family parties at my house.
I tripped over the dozens of shoes littered in
with memories and stories.
And I did, for 15 years a mix of good
and bad ones. The house was where we held
the doorway on my way to the dining room, weddings, where we celebrated Christmases and
where the sounds of chatter and chopsticks Lunar New Years and birthdays and where I
clicking together echoed through the crowded eventually lost my entire family.
kitchen. The fights and arguments between my parents
The kitchen island brimmed with food and the rest of my family had been going on
steaming fried rice, spring rolls, rice cakes, egg for decades most of them centered around my
rolls all ready to be eaten. As I stood there sister and me.
with my best friend, a bowl of food in my They should go to UCI like their cousin.
hands, an aunt and uncle turned around and UCI is the best of the best!
told us that we looked like the number 10. Why do they need tutoring, are they
Her the tall one, me the fat zero. dumb?
I put my bowl down and walked away. I was Why are you wasting their time in Girl
angry. Scouts? Its unnecessary.
Id yell at them to leave me alone and they We ignored their criticisms of the way we
would look at me smugly, satisfied that they were raised and did everything our parents
had successfully goaded and baited me into wanted us to do. We respected them, went to
lashing out. Everything I did was always temple and got accepted into UCLA.
scrutinized and every word I said was always I didnt understand why all of that wasnt
twisted. good enough for our extended family, until my
My mother would always scold me afterwards, mom told me we were too good and achieved
even if she sympathized with me. more than our family had wanted us to achieve.
Youre not supposed to treat the adults that Blood may be thicker than water, but
way, she said. Thats hn. Theyre family. jealousy is stronger still and it spread easily
But real families dont orchestrate elaborate through our family. Everyone ridiculed my
schemes that result in some of their members parents for their lack of education and their
having perceived inability to raise my sister and I.
nowhere My parents had put their own college dreams
to live and and goals on hold because of my family. Rather
no money than focus on themselves, my mom and dad
to support helped my moms aunts, uncles and younger
themselves. brothers and sisters come to America after the
Vietnam War where they would be able to go
When I was to college and have families of their own.
3, I moved But the family was critical instead of
into that two- appreciative. Even with all their doubts and
story house disdain, my parents would win nearly every
with my competition. My sister and I were the second-
parents, sister, and fifth-oldest, respectively, in our generation.
grandma Throughout our lives, we would consistently
and aunt. outpace our cousins closest to our ages. And
My aunts nothing pissed people off more.
husband and They believed my parents were beneath
three kids them, and my sister and I should stay there as
joined us over well. The children of parents with no college
the years. education shouldnt outperform kids raised by
It seemed educated pharmacists, engineers or doctors.
like a mansion It just wasnt done.
when I first But it did happen and the arguments
walked up mounted until my grandma, aunt, uncle
the brick and cousins moved away in 2013, without
steps. The saying goodbye. I couldnt walk into their old
blank walls bedrooms without being overwhelmed with
and pristine sadness. The closets where we played hide-and-
carpets were a seek were now empty, the furniture gone with
canvas to fill only the silence remaining.

PHOTOS
COURTESY OF
TUANH DAM
 I hadnt seen the house that empty since I moved in.
Were moving, my mom said. I had been sitting in my
dorm room that November night, looking out the window,
when my phone rang.
When?
Now. We have a couple days to finish packing before
theyre kicking us out.
My family had just undersold the house without telling
my parents, completely out of spite.
They posted the notice from their lawyer on the front
door while my parents were at work to let them know they
had to move out immediately. No money of the sale would
be given to them nothing to help me with college, my
sister with medical school or my parents find a new home.
My parents were strong, though. They put their heads
down and packed up 18 years worth of history in a week,
found a temporary house with enough space for the four
of us and went about their lives. They were stressed, but
they didnt show it. They had to be my rocks, and they
were.
I got the call on a Monday and helped them move into
their new home that weekend. When I saw that moving
truck the next morning, I felt my stomach drop. I had
thought I was ready to leave, but I wasnt.
Our rented townhouse was modern and nice, but it
didnt feel right. There wasnt that stain on the carpet
where I spilled paint during a school project. It didnt have
our video games and DVDs cluttering the family room or
the dishes from afternoons spent baking piling up in the
sink.
The little touches made it better the smells of my
moms food filling the kitchen, my dad placing pictures of
my sister and I on the shelves, the piano at which I spent
countless hours practicing being wheeled in.
But I still felt empty.
I had just started college at UCLA and while visits back
to Santa Ana would have been easy, I used any excuse I
could to avoid going back to an empty house.
My mom knew and she didnt push me to come home,
visiting me in Westwood with my dad instead. But she
did push me to go to my grandmas new house to pay my
respects.
Never mind that my grandma was complicit in my
parents suffering she stood by while my aunts and
uncles belittled them, condoning their actions. My mom
told me how my uncle had called her a greedy prostitute
for wanting money from the house sale to care for me and
my sister.
He did that while my grandmother was there, watching
in silent approval.
When Id see her, shed act as if nothing had happened,
shed hug me and greet me as if she cared for me. And
I would hug her and greet her as if I were happy to see
her. She showed me her new room, gesturing toward the
shelves that were filled with photographs of family events
and her grandkids. My sisters face and my face were
nowhere to be seen.
It didnt matter how much we cared for them or what we
did for them. Like my parents, we were just as disposable
and easily forgotten.
I didnt trust them or like them, but you dont cut off
phone calls, text messages or visits with almost 40 people
without consequence.
Instead of just being angry, loneliness entered the cycle.
It alternated between crying myself to sleep while
looking at family photos and sitting in the darkness at
Janss Steps, frustrated because I felt like things were
spiraling out of control.
The hopelessness took a toll on my body bulimia,
anorexia, anxiety, depression. I tried to hide them all. I
didnt want to seem weak. I didnt want my problems to
become anyone elses. I didnt want my parents to worry.
I wanted to be the daughter they raised tough and
resilient. Moving on, though, meant letting go. I couldnt
continue being angry at my family without letting it
consume me. It also meant trusting people enough for
them to fill the void.
I had always been introverted and cautious, but after my
familys betrayal, letting people in became even harder. I
had my parents and my sister, but few others could breach
my walls.
But they did. Slowly.
Heart-to-heart talks over wine and pizza rolls with my
roommates, chatting with my bosses in between work and
confiding in my friends on the toughest days pulled me
out of my own dark thoughts. They became that family I
craved, the people I could rely on.
The moving van was back months later, ready to load up
that unpacked boxes and bring them to a new house.
A permanent one.
There was no feeling of dread, no despair and no anger
this time. Just relief. A fresh start was a 20-minute drive
away.
Walking up the driveway to this new house felt different.
It was empty and a bit dusty, the kitchen in need of repair
and the living room screaming for new paint.
My mom walked around animatedly pointing at all the
different things she wanted to change once she saved up
enough money the tiles she would replace, where she
would put the new oven, how she would knock out the
divider and put in a kitchen island instead. I hadnt seen
her or my dad so relaxed in years.
And looking out the sunlit window, I couldnt help but
relax alongside them.
It was a home, and it was ours.
Whenever I start missing my old life, I stop by my
childhood house a quick drive by to see what its like
now.
It doesnt look the same anymore. I dont feel the same
longing or nostalgia. The things that happened there are
faint echoes, no longer prominent stories.
I have nothing tying me down there, and I dont have to
stop. I just keep going.
@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017
NOW, I GO HOME.
WAR STOR
WRITTEN BY WILLIAM THORNE PHOTO ILLU

S tudent veterans usually react with a shoulder

shrug, a brief, Oh you know, for the money, or
an awkward Youre welcome.
Instead of owning their military service, some
choose not to identify as veterans or to downplay this
significant aspect of their identities.
But in a bright room on the second floor of the Hu-
manities Building, student veterans freely discuss the
soaring highs and devastating lows of serving in the
military and the stigma they face outside the class-
ORIES
PHOTO ILLUSTRATIONS BY HANNAH BURNETT
houlder room. Nine men and one woman, seven ex-Marines
Have you ever killed someone?
Why did you join?
Thank you for your service.

ey, or and three ex-Army make up English Composition

M138: Writing Military Experience, a creative writ-
some ing course taught by professor Reed Wilson, exclu-
ay this sively open to student veterans.
Among the group are students who have known ex-
he Hu- treme poverty, drug abuse, alcoholism, eating disor-
uss the ders, mental illnesses and post-traumatic stress disor-
in the der. The banter in the room is acerbic, with cutting
e class- jokes and put-downs flying back and forth.
 Theres one guy thats not here that I openly beat on
in each of my papers, one student said jokingly, causing a
ripple of knowing laughter from the others.
But beneath the fooling around is a bedrock of respect,
honesty and shared experiences. Almost all the veterans
present have been deployed to fight in various conflicts,
mostly in Iraq and Afghanistan, and many of them have
struggled to adapt to civilian life after they got out.
UCLA has more than 100 student veterans, and the com-
munity keeps a low profile. If they identify themselves as vet-
erans, peoples perception of them is immediately warped.
After leaving the military, many wanted to steer clear of
other veterans and the memories associated with their time
on deployment. But this class offers a different opportunity
for each of them: a chance to be open and express past ex-
periences they have left unexplored or buried deep in their
subconsciousness.
Each week, the veterans take turns reading out their sto-
ry, poem or other piece of creative writing.
Some weeks the stories come easily, some weeks they
dont. Some weeks the memories flow through the keys and
onto the screen, some weeks they dont.

"I Changed My Family Cycle" eby Colt Gordon

I come from an interesting background. Ironically it was somewhat of a war

zone. My dad was a full-time violent alcoholic and a part time construction
worker. My mom suffered from chronic PTSD from her pedophile of a
stepfather who molested her and her sisters repeatedly. Getting smacked
around was good for me in some ways as I learned to mind, but for my mom it
was hell. She was thrown through a glass shower door by my dad once; and I
can still hear her blood curdling screams.

C olt Gordon promised his grandma he would never

get any tattoos. Given that his father was a tattoo
artist and he was surrounded with body art during his
time in the military, it was a serious promise to make.
For a six-year period of his life, Gordon fought an eating
disorder and suicidal ideations. One day while on deploy-
ment in Iraq, Gordon thought he was going to die by his
own hands. That same day he promised a friend he would
seek help.
I had a gun all the time, so I was always thinking how
it would be easier if I was gone, Gordon said. But I had
a friend who was always there for me, and he was the guy
that said, You never really opened up to me, but I care
about you and I want you to promise me youll get help.
Im kinda juvenile in the sense that I always keep my
promises.
He said he wouldnt be here today if he hadnt kept that
promise. Gordon is a third-year psychology student who
was recently elected as the next president of the UCLA
Student Veterans of America.
Writing about his experiences and reading his own writ-
ing aloud usually provides a dose of calm and catharsis for
Gordon.
But when it came to composing for English Composi-
tion M138, he found himself hesitating and worrying about
what everyone else would think.
Im naturally more of a guy that would have a cup of
tea with the ladies, to be honest. Its a weird thing about
18
LIFESTYLE

me, Gordon said. I can be very expressive and outward-

PHOTO COURTESY OF COLT GORDON


going with women, but I didnt have the incli-
nation to hang out with the guys, shoot shit
and talk about guns, but recently Ive started While the Marine Corps may have
embracing it and having more male friends.
In his piece I Changed My Family Cycle, accelerated my pain it also increased my
which deals with the complex decision of why
he joined the Marines, Gordon reveals he came
from a background of mental, physical and al-
willingness to seek the inevitable help I
coholic abuse. While his father died by the
bottle at 49, and his brother is currently serv- needed. What took four years to bring
ing 10 years in prison for grand arson, Gordon
has forged himself a different path. me to my knees to get psychological
He joined the military to escape his situation,
not serve his country out of some great sense of help might have never happened out in
patriotism, he said.
Without the military, Gordon wouldnt have
overcome his depression or become dedicated to
the civilian world. When I got treatment
helping others with mental illness. Without the
military, Gordon probably wouldnt be alive. I realized I was not weak. In fact, I was
Im almost 30, so some people could say that
Im late, Im far behind, but theres no way I strong for what I had endured over my
would have gotten here without the military,
theres no way I would have turned my life life. I simply needed tools to get better
around without the military, Gordon said. I
have so many positive things to say about my
time in the Marine Corps, even though it was
and to get my life back.
hell.

19

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017


Strip Club Veteran eby Camilo Rocha

Strip club veteran was this soldiers name,

Chugging cans of redbull as his personal cocaine,
Lets go to Red Parrot! he would exuberantly proclaim,
Strip club veteran, he would put any man to shame.

C amilo Rocha doesnt like to be underestimated.

When a UCLA recruiter came to Pasadena City
College where he was at school, Rocha approached her and
student.
When people say I cant do something, it drives me,
when people underestimate me, it drives me. Thats a big
asked about transferring to Westwood. She asked for his motivator in life, trying to prove people wrong, Rocha said.
GPA; he replied it was 3.28. The recruiter smirked and told Rochas parents both dropped out of middle school, and
him he neednt bother applying. Ill show her, he thought. he describes the rest of his family as drunks working in
Rocha hunkered down, achieved straight As the next the fields. In high school he was a self-confessed alcoholic,
two semesters and transferred to UCLA as a psychology pothead, hot-boxing teenager with a wild Afro and no pros-
pects.
He worked at In-N-Out
Burger for two years, wait-
ing to get his high school
diploma. While at work one PHOTO
day, Rocha observed an over-
weight, burger-flipping col-
league with sweat dripping
down his forehead. Rocha
came to a terrifying realiza-
tion: That could be him in 30
years.
He had to do something
drastic to escape the cycle of
poverty his family was stuck
in.
Joining the military was
a means to an end, Ro-
cha said. The alternative
was being a pot dealer who
smoked his own stash. ...
Within a month of stepping
into the recruitment office I
was gone.
Seven years in the military
brought many highs, lows
and everything in between
for Rocha, during which he
met people from all walks
and in all phases of life.
One of professor Wilsons
prompts was to recount an
interaction with another
member of the armed forces,
and Rocha wrote about a
strip club veteran who par-
ties every night and asks his
friends to spot him a couple
20s, before slinking home to
his wife at night.
I wanted the people to
think this characters a mas-
 sive douchebag; hes thrown away his cash on strippers in-
stead of paying attention to his wife, Rocha said.
When he read his poem aloud in class, his fellow veter-
ans laughed at the strip club veterans exploits and were
eager to know who he was based on. To their amazement,
Rocha revealed the strip club veteran was based on a
20-year-old version of himself.
used to be before he quit drinking and gave him perspective
on how far he had come from his alcohol- and drug-fueled
days.
To be the first to be here at UCLA, for myself and my
son, its going to change the rest of our family lineage,
Rocha said. You know, you can come from the shittiest
background possible, be in the worst situation, but if you

Writing the poem helped Rocha reflect on the person he put in the effort, fight the odds, you can be a success too.

With a face full of glitter and reeking of booze,

He sneaks back home while his wife takes a snooze,
Hun is that you? Its late where you been?
Just taking care of ARMY stuff he says with a grin.

Strip club veteran, hes survived another tour,

Bank account now empty and still immature.
PHOTO COURTESY OF CAMILO ROCHA

Survivalist eby Timothy Perkins

When 66 Staff Sergeant Matrix Elias showed up at my door in dress blues,
I knew I was signing with the Marine Corps and I wouldnt take no for an
answer. There were lots of reasons I was impressed with the Marine Corps,
for one they came to me in dress blues and seemed to pay zero attention to
the shit hole I lived in. It feels good to feel wanted, and that right there was
probably enough to get me to sign. Also I felt like I had found a community.
My friends, as loyal as they were and continue to be, never came to my house.
SSGT Elias showed up in dress uniform and accepted me right where I was at.

I n winter quarter, Tim Perkins raised his hand to make

a comment in a class. After a brief, perfectly mundane
back-and-forth with the professor, Perkins found he was
breaking out into a heavy cold sweat.
Perkins said he has grown largely accustomed to dealing
with normal classroom situations since he left the military in
2008, but it took him several years to get used to participat-
ing in group interactions. The military conditioned him to
be hyperaware of his surroundings, and he said he still finds
himself subconsciously watching everyones hands and move-
ments.
It was a physiological reaction to feeling really uncomfort-
able in a public environment, Perkins said. I havent had
a reaction like that in a while, but it still pops up from time
to time.
After leaving the Marine Corps, Perkins spent five years
going to one-on-one therapy sessions to help figure out what
the hell was going on in his brain. At the time, he wasnt
sleeping and was having regular panic attacks. His coping
methods of choice were drinking heavily and smoking copious
quantities of marijuana.
When he returned from his final tour, Perkins said he was
shocked by how little people understood the emotional cost
of sending people to war, and many people he spoke to ex-
21

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

 pressed hard-line opinions doubting whether he
should have been in Afghanistan in the first place.
I remember I got back in 2008 at the height
of the election, and I remember coming back and
thinking, Jesus, this country hates itself, Perkins
said. It was the most unwelcome welcome home
you could possibly imagine.
Five years of therapy with a fellow ex-Marine
helped Perkins acclimatize, and things started
to click in his life and his mind. He found a job
through another veteran, started getting straight
As at his community college and decided he want-
ed to give four-year college a shot.
While Perkins said not every veteran in the class
has been through a similar course of therapy, he
believes English Composition M138 provides a ve-
hicle for each of them to express their emotions and
dredge up memories from their subconsciousness.
Were not a community thats well known for
being able to tell our story. The military is very
masculine-dominated, full of toxic masculinity,
Perkins said. Its this inability to share your emo-
tions or understand your own emotions, so the
class is a great opportunity to sit down and dig
into yourself.
In his Survivalist story, Perkins attempted to
untangle the knot of emotions and life events
that led him to join the Marines. One of his driv-
ing motivations was to impress a girl, Monika, who
came from a far wealthier family and whose parents
looked down their noses at him from the moment
he set foot in their house.
Perkins said he found it difficult at first to share
the story, but that ultimately, none of the student
veterans in the class or at UCLA had reached this
point without a willingness to step out of their
comfort zones.
A lot of veterans lock themselves up inside their
homes, but this is a different group of people be-
cause were willing to make a fool of ourselves,
Perkins said. Were here to get the most out of our
experience here, just like everyone else is.

In the end Monika and I did end up dating

after I got back from my second deployment. I
even stayed with her at her parents house where
we did things that probably broke their waspy
hearts. After I left they called me a survivalist
which is pretty astute coming from a couple of
elitists. I broke up with Monika before my third
deployment, I had gotten what I wanted from her
and didnt need her anymore.
PHOTO COURTESY
OF TIM PERKINS
Why I Joined the Marine Corps eby Michael Williamson

Its hard to pinpoint one

reason why I joined the
Marine Corps, but maybe
it was the travel, or maybe
the adventure, or maybe just
maybe it was actually for the
money. I cant truly know this
answer unless I take a trip
down memory lane, sounds
lame, I know, but writing
forces me to try to understand
myself then and what was
going through my mind at
the time. I was 20 years old,
going into my third year of
community college, and was
suckered into believing one day
I would be a famous actor.

M ichael Williamson wanted to be a combat camera

when he joined the Marine Corps.
He was anxious to leave behind his stagnant, stoner life for
combat journalism school in Pensacola, Florida, where he would
learn the film and journalistic techniques that would prepare
him to enter combat holding a camera instead of a gun.
Everything was going to plan with military precision until,
during an interview with the recruiter, he accidentally let slip
he smoked pot on a regular basis.
They gave me a drug waiver, and my boot camp day was
changed, Williamson said. I had to change my job. I went
down a spiral of disappointment.
After his combat camera dreams were dashed, Williamson
spent four years as a field artilleryman. He said his service
made him a better person and allowed him to meet people
from all types of backgrounds.
Some join the military coming from a wealthy, bourgeois
background, desperate for an arena in which to prove them-
selves, while other recruits are straight off the street, Wil-
liamson said. For the latter, the military is often a drastic
resort to make ends meet.
Williamson, a fourth-year world arts and cultures student,
said the faces of his fellow Marines are clear in his memory,
but their words are often lost. Writing helps him reclaim the
experiences that are shrouded in his mind.
Its a process of digging into memory, which is sometimes
hard, Williamson said. I dont know if this is attributed
to PTSD or trauma, but theres a lot of fog in my memory.
There are things I know that I experienced, but I cant recall
the narrative or the dialogue from those moments.
With graduation coming up, Williamson has applied to be
a probation officer working with incarcerated youth, but in
the back of his mind he still feels a nagging desire to go back
in and commit to a full career in the military as an officer.
The camaraderie and brotherhood he found in the Marine
Corps is hard to resist.
You hear a lot of people talk about independence and we
strive so hard to claim it, but when you are removed from
those supporting structures and you dont have someone to
lean on, your life crumbles down, Williamson said. When
you have a role within a social structure, youre able to not
only contribute to yourself but also to others.
23

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017


I am the first out of my immediate family to join
the Marines; I am the first out of my immediate
family to go to university; and proudly, I am the
first out of my immediate family to not get a girl
pregnant out of wedlock or OD on heroin. Yea, I
guess you can say I come from a place of abuse,
dysfunction and a lot of divorce, but hey the Marine
Corps is full of that too and for the first time I
actually felt like I found something that I had been
missing for my whole life FAMILY.
PHOTO COURTESY OF MICHAEL WILLIAMSON

That Fuckin Motorcycle eby Donald Stiles
The catalyst for my desire
to join the Marine Corps
came from the fact that I
wanted to buy the YZF-
Yamaha R1 motorcycle.
I was at Chaparral
motorsports with my best
friend, Chris, who had just
enlisted into the DEP for
Marines. When he first
told everyone that he was
joining the Marine Corps,
we all just said something
like, have fun with that,
or, in my instance, see ya
in four years, buddy.
24
LIFESTYLE
 D onny Stiles has a love-hate relationship with the
military.
The love began at the age of 18 when he attended a
combat arms exercise and witnessed a mine-clearing line
charge blast a clear lane through a notional minefield. The
hate part came from having to leave behind his Marine
Corps brothers and the life-threatening experiences they
endured together.
When you get back, its a mundane life theres not as
much excitement, Stiles said. You know, getting blown
up lets you know youre alive. You never appreciate life so
much until youve survived that stuff.
Stiles has written each of his English Composition M138
stories in 10 minutes flat, except for one. Partly because
hes writing about a subject he loves, and partly because
sometimes he forgets and scrambles to get the story ready
before rushing to class.
When Wilson gave the prompt to write about someone
he met in the military, Stiles immediately thought of Jon,
the best buddy he made while on tour in Iraq.
At first I hated the guy, Stiles said. We got into an
argument about leadership, and he thought as a sergeant
he had the right to beat the shit out of his Marines if they
didnt accomplish a task, and I would never do that at all.
I thought that it was the respect you earned that made
people follow you.
However, the two of them quickly became friends, mov-
ing in together when they got out.
They took care of each other, and when Jon started hav-
ing suicidal thoughts, Stiles was there for him. Jon seemed
like he was doing OK.

I saw him the day before, and he looked fine, I didnt
see it coming. The shitty thing is that he died in the show- PHOTO COURTESY OF DONNY STILES
er of our apartment in San Diego, Stiles said.
It wasnt as if he had never seen someone die before; in
fact, Stiles said he prides himself on his ability to compart- I never regretted my decision
mentalize. His time in the Marines taught him to become
numb to people dying, or at least not to focus or dwell on
it.
to join the Marine Corps.
But with his friend it was different.
Seeing him dead and calling his mom to tell her was the No matter how shitty and
hardest thing I had done in my life. The official autopsy
report said acute ethanol intoxication. My buddy drank miserable I was in a specific
himself to death, Stiles said. I felt partly responsible
because he moved out to California because of me. We moment; it was the best
were helping each other out, I was having a rough time
too, and I failed him. He wouldnt have died in California
if it wasnt for me.
decision of my life. But, if I
Although he couldnt bring himself to finish his story on
Jon, Stiles said he has made his peace with the loss of want to be completely honest
his friend.
As a fifth-year philosophy student and the vice presi- with myself, I joined for two
dent of the UCLA Student Veterans of America, Stiles now
serves as an ambassador for his community. reasons. One, my shithead best
He recently gave the keynote speech at a scholarship fun-
draising event, and he said opening up on stage helped
others in the community come forward to talk about their friend chose the Marine Corps
experiences. English Composition M138 offers a similar
opportunity for the 10 veterans present. for some ungodly reason. Two,
One of the greatest things about this class is listening
to other peoples stories, Stiles said. Theres a lot of I rrrreeeeaaallly fuckin wanted
morbid humor, but thats just a coping mechanism. I think
that letting fear affect you reduces your effectiveness, both
in the military and as a person.
that motorcycle.
25

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

THE DAILY GRIND
WRITTEN BY KUHELIKA GHOSH ILLUSTRATIONS BY INSUN PARK

S tudents and professors look to campus coffee shops for their daily doses of
energy to make it up all those hills. Their minds are often on their mocha lattes
and double espressos, but have they ever stopped to think what its like to be behind
the counter? Join prime as we explore a day in the life of student baristas.

his piping hot grande Italian coffee, with room.

6 a.m.
The sun has just begun to rise.
A little groggy, Michael Adia walks from his dorm to
Kerckhoff Coffeehouse for his opening shift. He collects the
cash for the day from Ackerman Union, switches on the
cash registers and begins brewing the first batch of coffee.
When the coffee shop opens at 7 a.m., Adia is immediately
swamped with a line of customers that trails out the door.
Coffee makes their world go round, said Adia, a
second-year civil engineering student.
Amid the morning rush, a man who works at Counseling
and Psychological Services comes in, asking for his usual
tall soy mocha. He specifies as he does every morning
that his name is Bryan with a Y and asks for a receipt.
Adia draws a smiley face on his cup.
Later, Adia and his co-workers greet another UCLA em-
ployee who frequents the cafe. Adia has already prepared
After you give it to him, hell always say, Terrific!
Adia said. I remember one morning when I didn't see him
and to me, that was odd because hes been coming here
longer than Ive been working here.
As the minutes go by, Adia hands out cup after cup to
student after student. He said he dreams of becoming an
80-year-old barista at his very own coffee shop.
10 a.m.
Daniel Leventhal, wearing a baseball cap, ambles toward
UCLAs smallest coffee shop: Terasaki Cafe.
Leventhal, a fourth-year Portuguese student, is the only
employee on shift. He prepares the usual tea bags and
bagels at a coffee stand no bigger than a golf cart.
Students, researchers and even firefighters trickle into
the courtyard throughout the morning and patiently wait

for their coffee and pastries. Between customers, Leventhal
finds some time to do his homework.
Among the usual crowd of students and professors, the
UCLA mariachi band, Mariachi de Uclatln, approaches
Leventhal, asking for some coffee. Surprised by their ar-
rival, he asks them to sing for him. They put on a show
right there in the courtyard, the upbeat sounds of guitars
and trumpets carrying into the nearby buildings.
And then its back to work.
Terasaki never gets awfully busy, he said. But since I
work alone, I have to make things happen by myself.
After a couple of hours of brewing, waste water accumu-
lates in the stands tank. Leventhal collects a pipe from
the storeroom, attaches it to the receptacle and allows the
liquid to drain out. The pipe leaks a little, and he quickly
cleans it up to avoid a sticky floor and an angry building
manager.
noon
Mariana Loza gathers up her books after studying at
Young Research Library and rushes to change into her
navy work polo and cap. Loza, a fourth-year fine arts
student, begins work nearby at Cafe 451, located on the
first floor of the library. The cafe is named in honor of
Ray Bradbury's famous novel "Fahrenheit 451," which was
written in UCLA's Powell Library.
Coffee makes
their world
go round.
-michael adia
Most people are there in the afternoon to study or to
meet, Loza said. The cafe is busy in a quieter sort of
way because its in a library.
Throughout the afternoon, Loza restocks snacks, throws
out the old coffee and makes fresh hot and iced coffee a
schedule with little room for anything else.
But then a student worker tries to plug in a phone
charger into one of the coffee shop outlets and it suddenly
sparks up, creating a miniature fire. Loza and her cowork-
er, in a state of panic, run to get the fire extinguisher from
the room next door, rushing back just in time to put out
the flames.
The funny thing is the customers saw us freaking out,
but they didn't react at all, Loza said. They just kept
studying.
27
@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

3 p.m.
Students napping on the lawns of the Murphy Sculp-
ture Garden in the lazy afternoon pick up some coffee to
recharge themselves at the tiny and secluded cafe next
door Stage Canteen.
From behind her counter in MacGowan Halls court-
watches people sing and recite film scripts. Occasionally,
they break into a dance if their part involves choreogra-
phy.
People in the film school are always very loud, and I
like it, Ganesh said.
Ganeshs favorite customer, a graduate student, comes
in. She steams the milk and mixes powder into his tall
chai latte.
He always complains its hot in LA, yet he always gets
a hot drink, Ganesh said.
While designing some latte art in his drink, he and Ga-
nesh have conversations about their countries of origin,
their lives and sometimes the weather.
We were just talking and we found out we have the
same kind of heritage, she said. Hes Sri Lankan and
Im half Sri Lankan as well. I dont know why it was in-
teresting, but I just remember that moment all the time.
Ganesh hands him his cup, waving goodbye as he
leaves.
5 p.m.
Customers slowly start to drift away from Music Cafe
and head back home as their need for coffee diminishes
with the suns rays.
However, student barista Lauren Keans work shift has
just begun. A fourth-year atmospheric, oceanic and envi-
ronmental sciences student, Kean makes herself a quick
cup of coffee to get through her closing shift at Music
Cafe.
Five minutes after the cafe closes, a woman comes
in and orders a decaffeinated coffee. Kean has already
cleaned out the coffee tumblers, so she apologizes to the
customer and explains the situation. The woman is per-
sistent and approaches Kean again, hoping to change her
mind. In order to appease the customer, Kean brews the
decaffeinated coffee again and ends up staying overtime.
I was annoyed at how demanding someone could be,
and I still think of it from time to time, Kean said. I
saw her at Barneys (Beanery) in Westwood one time and
... all the feelings came back.
Kean gets over the negative experiences at work by
laughing about them with her co-workers.
I usually remember the bad customers more than the
good customers, Kean said.
"(But my
coworkers and
I) manage the
stress of the
day by drinking
lots of coffee,
eating pastries,
complaining a
lot and playing
music.
 BEHIND THE BOUQUETS
WRITTEN BY ADRIJA CHAKRABARTY PHOTOS BY ERIN RICE
B rimming with vibrant sunflowers, dark
red roses and periwinkle hydrangeas, the
California Flower Mall is one of several flower
shopping destinations in the Los Angeles Flower
District. Located inside a large warehouse,
various vendors sell their floral fare from 4:30
a.m. to 4:30 p.m. Monday to Saturday and 5
a.m. to noon on Sundays.
Although many of the other flower shops in
the district specialize in a certain type of flower
orchid and rose shops being some of the most
frequented specialty stores the California
Flower Mall features a collection of 30 vendor
stalls, all of which either market certain flowers
or present a vast collection for customers to
30
LIFESTYLE
peruse. Some stores are lined with only gerberas
in a multitude of colors like electrifying blue,
bright green and sunny yellow. Others feature a
plethora of options, selling sunflowers alongside
irises and roses.
But behind the bouquets being showcased
at each of the stands is a vendor arranging
the buds, petals and leaves of the flowers to
his or her taste. Each vendor spends the day
receiving shipments of seasonal flowers, which
they gather into wedding centerpieces or floral
arrangements. Join prime as we explore the
vendors stories at the California Flower Mall
that constitute the ever-blossoming flower
industry.
Growers Direct
T he first shop in the warehouse, Growers Direct
Flowers Inc., has sunlight pouring through the
windows onto the orchids and leafy stems hanging
over the counter at which flower designer Sylvia
Lozano crafts floral arrangements. Next to the flowers
is a wooden table topped with a coffee machine for
Lozanos meetings with potential clients. As a flower
designer, Lozano works with customers to envision
how arrangements can be used to set the scene for
quinceaneras or weddings.
Because Growers Direct specializes in large events,
Lozanos job requires an eye for aesthetics along with
a mind for logistics. Lozano claims it is the balance of
the creative with the analytical that makes her job so
satisfying.
We try to see what vision (customers) have and we
try to make that happen with flowers, Lozano said.
We have to plan matching colors and matching bases
all under a budget, so we take a lot into consideration.
Lozano mainly works on arranging floral designs
for weddings. Since weddings are such an important
date in a persons life, being involved in the planning
process is an honor Lozano does not take lightly, she
said.
One time we had a bride who lost her
father and wanted a specific flower that
reminded her of him, Lozano said. Even
though the flower was not in season, we
got it for her, and she cried when she saw
the bouquets.
Working with momentous events like
weddings and coming-of-age ceremonies
can be challenging when clients have
expectations that cannot be fulfilled.
Lozano often has to remind clients to keep
an alternate plan in case the flowers are
out of season or unattainable at the time.
I have personally delivered flowers out
of season for a bride before and I will go
out of my way to make a clients wish
come true, Lozano said. But I am still
working with nature so we have to be
realistic.
Lozano also loves engaging with her
customers in face-to-face interactions and
give the flower-arranging process more
significance. Because she can see her
clients emotions, Lozano is able to be
more passionate about her job and come
through for her customers, she said.
I love talking to the brides to plan the
flower arrangements, Lozano said. When
I see their excitement before, I want to
make flowers that make them feel the same
way on their special day.
 Vinnys Wholesale
V innys Wholesale Plants and Flowers is the second stall in the
row of flower shops. With alluring bouquets in a kaleidoscope of
colors placed next to pristine, white floral centerpieces for the wedding
collection, the stalls strategic contrasting of color schemes instantly
drew my eye. I went up to the two vendors behind the stand to ask if
I could converse with them, they smiled and warmly said yes before
pointing at the other to indicate who would do the talking. I asked if
the two were related, and they informed me they were husband and
wife. Incidentally, Jovana Vazquez had met her husband Geraldo Rojas
at another flower market in Anaheim, California.
I got in the business through my husband, Vazquez said. I met him
at the flower market and we really hit it off. As I fell in love with him, I
fell in love with the flowers.
Vazquez joined her husbands family business of wholesale floral
service. Vinnys is a business run by four different family members with
four different units, three stalls in Los Angeles and one in Anaheim.
With two stalls inside the California Flower Market, family members are
able to run their business alongside each other.
We are definitely very family oriented, Vazquez said. That is why I
love being there during family events like weddings and funerals to offer
flowers and services.
Both Rojas and Vazquez enjoy the freedom of working for themselves
and collaborating with family members for business decisions.
I enjoy that I am self employed and do not have to answer to a
boss, Rojas said. Plus, I work with my hands and am not stuck in an
office filling out papers.
Hearing this statement, Vazquez enthusiastically nodded and
expanded on her husbands sentiment, citing creative freedom as the
main appeal of her job.
The best part of this job is the freedom, especially when it comes to
creativity. Vazquez said. I work with different arrangements and create
a range of arrangements for so many different people.
32
LIFESTYLE
 El Poblano Flowers

A fter browsing through the numerous vendor stalls in the California Flower
Mall, I stumbled upon a shop whose appearance looked straight out of
a mythic tale. Bathed in blue light with crystals hanging off a flower arch, El
Poblano Flowers specializes in delivering grandeur to whatever event they work
on, said Myrna Alba, the stalls vendor.
When I asked Alba for a breakdown of the companys best-selling products,
she took us behind the crystal-beaded entrance and walked us through the
whole inventory. The arrangement designs are made primarily by her husband,
Angel Alba. El Poblanos specialty is not in wholesale, but in offering smaller,
more unique arrangements for customers, Myrna Alba said.
The Albas became involved with the flower business eight years ago through
family connections, but did not have the California Flower Mall stall until
about a year ago, when Angel took over his late brothers flower shop.
He found this empty space and decided to jump on the opportunity ... to
start making his own unique floral designs, Myrna Alba said.
Diverging from the usual bouquets and wood basket centerpieces of the other
stalls, El Poblanos signature product is its topiary, featuring the trunk of a
miniature grapevine with a bush of a dozen crimson roses pinned to the top.
In addition to the topiary, El Poblano has a host of other specialized pieces
that incorporate foliage and flowers to create complex arrangements. For
instance, several of the arrangements make use of unconventional accessories
like tea leaves, Casablanca lilies or colorful heads of cabbage to create striking
pieces.
Beyond offering a variety of unique floral arrangements, El Poblano places
a large emphasis on party rentals. Since flower arrangements often go hand in
hand with big life events, Myrna Alba has options for renting out flower arches
like the beaded one that greets customers and extravagant thrones for
quinceaneras or weddings.
We love offering other options to our customers beyond the flowers, Myrna
33

Alba said. It is a big day for them usually, and we want to offer them the best
services we have.
@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017
 flower
pressing
WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY MARYROSE KULICK

T he city of Los Angeles is in full bloom a super

bloom, in fact. All of the winter storms and showers
have brought about an eruption of spring flowers. Southern
California hillsides are painted with a variety of wildflowers
yellow, orange and purple that have struggled through years
of drought.
Unfortunately, my tiny apartment in Westwood boasts views
of cement sidewalks rather than lush hillsides, so Ive taken to
purchasing bouquets from Trader Joes to evoke a little bit of
that wild spring feeling. However, as the weather turns warmer
the wildflowers are beginning to dry up and disappear, just as
my tabletop flower arrangements start to wilt after only a few
days. One simple remedy to make spring last longer, however,
is flower pressing.
Flower pressing is a process that completely dries out the
plants petals and leaves by flattening it. The flower is then
preserved in a two dimensional form that wont wither or
decay. Overall, its a simple process that requires few materials
and results in a charming decoration for your home. Its ideal
for making keepsakes out of flowers from your graduation,
your secret admirer, or like us at prime, preserving spring.

materials
Flowers
Plain paper or
flat cardboard
Multiple books
or heavy objects
Picture frame
Glue
34
LIFESTYLE
 instructions
ICK

rn
ers
years

views
en to
it of
1 Choose your flowers. Smaller, less
bulky flowers will likely press more
uniformly.
armer
ust as

2
Place the flowers between two pieces of
a few
ever, paper for this example, we used flat pieces
of cardboard. This will help absorb moisture
he from the flowers while they are being pressed.
en
Place the flowers inside a book. If you are using thin papers,
terials

3
choose a book you dont mind leaving imprints on The
ideal Complete Works of Shakespeare was my pick. Then place
,
the book in a safe, dry location, and stack more books or
g.
heavy objects on top. This provides an excellent chance to
make use of textbooks youve neglected to sell back.

4 Wait two to three weeks patience is indeed a

virtue.

Carefully open the book and remove the flowers,

5 keeping in mind that they are very delicate. If

desired, gently glue the flowers to a piece of
paper and then place into a frame.

6
Hang the frame on your wall
and enjoy springtime, even
when its long gone.
35

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

4
LIFESTYLE
36
 taco the
town
WRITTEN BY YOUNGJUN PARK
PHOTOS BY AXEL LOPEZ

L os Angeles is blessed with some of the hottest and spiciest

taco joints in the nation. But with a plethora of options,
it can be a bit overwhelming to decide where to go. To make
your lives a little easier, I picked out four of the most flavor-
packed taco joints that are accessible to UCLA students. At
each stop on my trip, I ordered the most popular item on the
menu to crown the righteous Rey de Tacos.

Tacos Tu Madre
1945 1/2 Westwood Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90025
korean bbq taco: $3.75

T acos Tu Madre is a small joint about 2 miles away from UCLA. It offers a va-
riety of choices, many of which are unconventional, such as fried chicken tacos
and Korean BBQ tacos. As a Korean, I was pleasantly surprised to find that Korean
BBQ was one of its most popular choices. After getting the taco, I was thrilled it
was one of the most beautifully presented dishes I had ever seen. The red peppers
were carefully placed around the kimchi and beef, and the streaks of green from
cilantro and avocado looked like a flower garden. This best-selling taco cost a hefty
$3.75, so I expected to get the best taco in town. Though the portion was rather
small, it looked worth it. Disappointingly, however, what I tasted was subpar
overcooked meat coated in sweet-and-sour sauce. The not-so-soft shell was not the
quality I was expecting from one of the most expensive tacos I had ever purchased.
Although the different ingredients complemented each other well, it did not possess
the wow factor I was looking for in order for it to be crowned Rey de Tacos.
37

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

 Leos tacos tru
1515 S la brea ave.
los angeles, CA 90019
al pastor: $1.25

3
pinches tacos
1030 Glendon ave.
los angeles, ca 90024
asada: $3.50
L ocated next to Westwoods Trader Joes,
Pinches Tacos is a taco paradise right under our
noses. The restaurant is decorated with Spanish graf-
fiti, adding a bit of a lively flair. Although Pinches
Tacos boasts handpicked ingredients and homemade
tortillas, the tacos were a little pricey mostly $3
to $4 each. I ordered the asada tacos by the restau-

2
rants recommendation. At first, I was skeptical as
to whether it would be worth the splurge for two
maybe three bites. But as soon as I had a taste, I
was more than convinced that Pinches Tacos was the
real deal. Contrary to the common firm and chewy
beef in a typical asada taco, the Angus beef was
tender and easy on my teeth. Plus, it came complete
with tomatillo salsa, onions and cilantro, providing
the kick needed to enhance the juicy meat. Within
walking distance from UCLAs campus, Pinches
Tacos is a close runner-up in this competition for the
very best.
38
LIFESTYLE
truck
9 L eos Tacos Truck is the place to go for the ultimate
street taco experience. If you visit at night, a spit grill
dressed with fresh roasted al pastor spit-grilled meat
will greet you outside the truck. A salsa bar was set up
where I could customize my tacos with any of the add-
ons, such as diced onions, radishes and habanero peppers.
Each taco is $1.25, but the portions are pretty small, so
I ordered multiple al pastor tacos their signature item.
Although the cheap store-bought quality of the ingredients
pretty much everything besides the al pastor was not
quite up to the standards set by other eateries Ive visited,
the tacos were well worth the money. Just thinking about
the juicy al pastor paired with chunks of fresh pineapple
makes me want to wait in line again for a couple more. The
best part about Leos Tacos Truck was its customizability. I
was able to load up on habanero peppers and diced onions
to make one of the best tacos Ive ever had. Although there
is always a line and little space to eat, if you are a taco fan,
Leos Tacos Truck is a must-try on your bucket list.

guisados
8935 SANTA MONICA BLVD.
WEST HOLLYWOOD, CA 90069
cochinita pibil: $2.75

2 1
G uisados is a 15-minute car ride away from
UCLA. When my friends highly recommended I
try this place, I was unsure whether it would be worth
the drive. Bottom line, up front, its a firm yes. In con-
trast to other taco joints, the hipster restaurant gives
off a distinctly modern aura, with its brick walls and
metallic furniture. Local art was on display in the fea-
tured artist section for the customers to admire while
enjoying their food. Every taco on the menu was $2.75;
I ordered a cochinita pibil with a spice level of five
out of 10, upon the cashiers recommendation. At first
the taco looked like a blob of saucy meat, but I mean,
who eats a taco for its looks? The tender pork with an
added crunch from the pickled onion, along with the
sweet salsa and black beans, melted in my mouth. All
I could think was, This is one good taco. Guisados
was easily the best taco joint on this trip, and I will be
returning soon with my buddies. Despite its distance
from UCLA, Guisados is rightfully crowned Rey de
Tacos.
39

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

RECIPE:
EMPANADAS
video available online
graphics.dailybruin.com/prime
WRITTEN BY ANDREW WARNER
W hen I first bit into the flaky pastry, I was utterly
disappointed.
I was in a summer cooking class with a gaggle of other
third- and fourth-graders and couldnt have been more
excited to be cooking something I had never heard of
before: empanadas. But unfortunately, the recipe had
clearly been dumbed down for the palates of picky little
children like me it didnt taste much different from the
plain beef and potato pies that I ate growing up in my
own home.
It wasnt until after I became a vegetarian eight
years later that I would try empanadas again. I was
at a summer food festival with my family, sunburned
and sweaty under the sizzling Sacramento sun, when
PHOTOS BY MARYROSE KULICK
I stumbled upon an Argentine empanada food tent.
To my surprise, they had a vegetarian mushroom and
cheese option, filled with sweet caramelized shallots,
rich mozzarella and ricotta. It tasted exactly how youd
expect a fried, cheese-filled pastry to taste greasy,
heavy and rich. But most of all, delicious.
Heres my attempt at recreating that savory treat. I
took a couple of liberties with the recipe, adding nutmeg
to the filling as it adds a sweet and bitter touch that
pairs beautifully with ricotta cheese, and baking the
pastry instead of frying it simply because its a much
easier and cleaner method of cooking. But despite those
changes, its still just as tasty and filling as the pastry I
consumed on that scorching hot summer day.
 FILLING Pastry
1 cup brown mushrooms, sliced 1 1/3 cup flour
1 shallot, sliced 1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup spinach 1/2 cup shortening or cold butter
1/2 cup ricotta 3 tablespoons cold water
1/2 cup mozzarella, shredded 1 tablespoon vodka
1 pinch nutmeg 1 egg yolk
Salt and pepper to taste 1 teaspoon milk
2 tablespoons olive oil or butter *Makes four empanadas

STEPS
For the filling:
1orAdd sliced shallots, salt, pepper and olive oil
butter to pan and saut over medium heat for
10 to 15 minutes or until the shallots are soft and
translucent.
2 Add the mushrooms and continue to saut for
additional five to 10 minutes, or until the mushrooms
have browned and the shallots caramelized.
3 Take pan off heat. Add spinach and stir. The
residual heat should cook the spinach enough so
that it wilts down significantly.
4 Add ricotta, mozzarella and nutmeg to a bowl.
Remove grease from pan with a paper towel, and
add the vegetable mixture to the cheese. Stir until
well combined. Reserve.

For the pastry:

1degrees
Preheat oven to 450
Fahrenheit.
5toAdd 1 to 2 spoonfuls of filling
one half of the dough circles,
2a medium-sized
Add flour and salt to
bowl
being careful to leave about a half
inch of space at the edges of the
and whisk together. Add dough. Using a finger, dab the
shortening or butter to edges of the dough with a small
bowl and cut in with a amount of water to make the
fork or pastry blender until dough stick.
the dough resembles the Fold the dough over, creating
texture of coarse sand. a semicircle. Press the edges of
3 Add 1 tablespoon of
water, and stir with a fork
the dough with a fork, or crimp as
desired to ensure that the pastry
to combine. Add the doesnt open up when cooking.
vodka, and stir again to Prick the center of the empanada
combine. Repeat with with a fork to make holes for
water, until the dough is steam to escape when cooking.
moistened and can be
formed into a ball.
6 Whisk egg yolk and milk together
to create an egg wash. Brush egg
4 Roll the dough into wash over each empanada.
one big ball. Cut ball into
quarters. Roll quarters
7 Place empanadas on a cookie
sheet lined with parchment paper
into balls, and using a and bake in the oven for 15 to 20
floured rolling pin, roll minutes, or until the pastry is flaky
each ball out into circles, and golden-brown.
each about a quarter of
an inch thick.
8 Allow five minutes to cool before
serving.
41

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

 malibu
WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY MARYROSE KULICK

I t was a beautiful Saturday morning the sun shone softly, the Santa Ana winds blew
through the pair of palm trees in front of our apartment. We packed the trunk of my
roommates car with water bottles, beach towels, swimsuits and snacks and lathered ourselves
in sunscreen. Driving west along the Pacific Coast Highway, ocean waves crash to our left and
yellow mustard plants decorated the Santa Monica Mountains to our right.
Malibu, with a total population of less than 13,000, is a relatively small community in Los
Angeles County that offers the best of land and sea. While it is primarily known as a beach
city Zuma and Point Dume are two of its most popular beaches and a desirable locale for
scouting celebrity real estate, there are also plenty of opportunities for hiking and indulging
your seafood cravings. Follow primes Malibu exploration for a taste of that coastal California
lifestyle.
42
LIFESTYLE
prime
LAGUIDE
CITY

Corral Canyon Loop

F or our first stop, we pulled into the parking
lot of the Corral Canyon Loop, a trail just
off the PCH. Our plan was to start our day with
a short hike before gorging on lunch at Malibu
Seafood, conveniently located less than 100
yards from the trailhead. Since the restaurant
wasnt open yet, the lot was all but empty,
and we were able to quickly park, lace up our
sneakers and take to the trail.
The hike is a 2.5-mile loop, and shortly after
crossing a small creek, we were met with a
junction. We took the trail to the right, which
offered a steady incline and regular views of
the ocean. We lucked out with a clear day
the water was a deep blue, and flowers ranging
from lupine to small sunflowers covered the
landscape. As we continued, however, the
climb grew steeper and the plants thicker. The
winter rains had done their job, and the trail
was mostly overgrown. Instead of completing
the loop, we turned back for a leisurely stroll
downhill. We made friends with fellow hikers,
lizards, a caterpillar and Billy the dog, whose
idea of hiking was just to lie in the shade. Good
thinking, Billy.
When we were almost back at the parking lot,
a hand on my arm stopped me abruptly just
a few feet in front of me, a rattlesnakes tail slid
silently into the bushes. Thats a friend to watch
out for, as well.

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017


A little jittery from that close encounter, I hurried back
to our car, just in time for Malibu Seafood to open
its doors.
The parking lot had filled up, and a line was starting to
form underneath the restaurants sign, which features the
image of a red lobster in a Hawaiian shirt.
The menu has just about every kind of seafood you
can think of clams, mussels, calamari, halibut, generic
unidentified fish to go along with an order of french fries.
To try something new, I ordered a grilled giant squid steak
and a basket of fried scallops.
We took our buzzer and tried to find a table in the
restaurants shaded pavilion, which was a challenge because
the hot sun had deterred most customers from the outdoor
El Matador State Beach
N ot wanting to get stuck on a crowded beach
on a Saturday, we drove about 9 miles west of
the restaurant to El Matador State Beach, avoiding
popular Zuma and Point Dume.
The beach, tucked within rocky bluffs, is accessible
by a steep trail and a set of stairs. I made my way
down and took off my shoes, and we searched for a
sandy spot to lay out our towels. There were plenty
of people around, sunbathing or taking photos by the
large rocks protruding from the water, but it didnt
feel too crowded. If anything, El Matador is a swell
beach for people-watching.
LIFESTYLE
At least two professional photo shoots seemed to be
in progress when we arrived. On one side of a rock,
Malibu
Seafood
options. But we managed,
and our food arrived
relatively quickly. My scallops
all but melted in my mouth,
and the squid steak was mildly
chewy and wholly delicious, as
long as I didnt think about what
I was eating. My friends mussels also
looked like fried food heaven, and I had to
snag a bite. Can confirm mussels are great.
We cleaned our plates and patted our stomachs,
satisfied. Although Malibu Seafoods menu is more on the
pricey end, it was a pit stop worth taking, especially before
the beach.
two women wore glittery makeup, pastel dresses and
seashell crowns. They posed with serious expressions
for the camera, I assume evoking their inner
mermaids. On the other side, a male model in red
board shorts ran around in circles tossing a football to
himself, while a photographer snapped the action. In
the water, two surfers were trying to catch tiny waves,
flipping their hair every time they emerged from the
water. It all felt very LA.
But it was just a typical beach as well, with typical
beach activities. We built a sand castle, spotted sea
lions, explored small sea caves and ran out of the
ocean screaming from the cold. The only reasons we
left were to prevent sunburn and beat the traffic home.
Strawberry
stands
F eeling a bit dehydrated from
the sun, I was in the mood for
a smoothie.
We made a U-turn on the PCH to
check out a joint a friend told me
about, but a big white sign with a
bright red strawberry painted on it
hailed us down first. Strawberries
are my favorite fruit, so naturally
we had to stop. We parked in
a turnout next to a convertible
with the top down and made our
way over to the fruit vendor. The
strawberries were giant, sweet and
delicious. We purchased half a
box, only to determine that
wasnt nearly enough, and
went back for more.
Its a shame that
strawberries are seasonal
fruits, otherwise this would
be my go-to stop in Malibu
all year round.

SunLife Organics
B ack on track, I was ready for that smoothie.
The overall vibe in SunLife Organics was very
no-shirt-no-shoes-no-problem, as shirtless and bikini-
clad customers crowded the succulent-decorated
counter, ordering fresh-pressed juices and acai bowls.
The restaurant specializes in smoothies, juices, and
superfood products using ingredients like kale, bee
pollen, raw cacao, chia seeds and buffered vitamin C
crystals whatever that means. I was feeling mildly
adventurous and ordered the Fountain of Youth,
one of their signature superfood shakes. It contained
strawberries, bananas, acai, goji, resveratrol, coconut
and apple juice. I only didnt recognize two of those
ingredients, so it felt like a safe pick. I wasnt sure
what I was expecting from the flavor, but overall
I was pleasantly surprised. It tasted as a normal
smoothie should taste, but with a somewhat chalky
texture reminiscent of a milkshake.
I dont think Im hip enough to frequent SunLife,
but as I sipped my youth-preserving drink on the
ride home, I found myself thinking about the next
Malibu day trip and what shake I would try then
perhaps the one with grass-fed whey protein isolate?
Maybe not.
45

@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017

HIKE LA
WRITTEN & PHOTOGRAPHED BY
Devils
Punchbowl
OWEN EMERSON

A s I drive north on the 405 Freeway from

UCLA, the Red Hot Chili Peppers sing
to me through my radio. I pass Sherman Oaks,
Panorama City and Mission Hills and keep
driving. By San Fernando Valley, I continue on
I-5 north and make my way onto the Antelope
Valley Freeway, driving with the edge of the
Angeles National Forest in my sight. Im not in
Los Angeles anymore. At least not conventional
LA, where popular hikes lie minutes away from
a Starbucks.
I have hiked in Griffith Park many times,
seen the Eaton Canyon waterfall in summer
and winter, walked the shady trails of Will
Rogers State Historic Park and strolled through
the flowers of Topanga. Frankly, Im bored with

the conventional, regular scenes of the city that Im used
to. Im looking for a new area thats definitely out of the
way.
Located in the north side of the Angeles National
Forest, southeast of Palmdale, Devils Punchbowl looks
nothing like a punch bowl. Its name comes from the
nearby Punchbowl Fault, which created the formation.
The eerie silence of the scenery, the mysterious rock
formations that jut out like glass shards and the rocks
red-orange hues give a devilish, dark feeling to the area.
Starting the hike from the parking area, the trailhead
offers a few options. On the right lies a 1.1 mile loop
trail heading down into the bowl and back up to the
parking lot. The left side offers a scenic walkway and
various hiker-made trails where you can create your
own adventure, scrambling and exploring the sandstone
rocks.
I stepped to the left to discover what those before me
had found and made my way to the rocks. I scrambled
around with my camera on the small peaks, taking
pictures and taking in the environment.
Its a wild scene that, because it offers a Mars-like
landscape, gives you a moment of freedom and isolation
A moment of
freedom and
isolation from
the busy city.
from the busy city. I let my eyes and body run free,
as I carefully navigated the slopes and walked through
boulders. I allowed myself time to explore and take
pictures, but the complete isolation and quietness
became a double-edged sword, so I decided to turn back.
I then tried the trail to the right, starting on the 1.1
mile through the bowl. The actual bowl is a miniature
canyon with a sandy trail and rocks all over. The
landscape had much more vegetation, with a variety
of trees and shrubs, compared to the barren rocks I
was climbing earlier. I felt like I was passing through a
shrunken national park, reminiscent of the Yosemite or
Zion national parks. As I walked along the floor of the
bowl, the giant sandstone rock slabs towered above me
a killer spot for rock climbing, with trees growing higher
up on the slab. After a slow walk of photographing the
sights and making friends with a mixed border collie and
her owner, I headed out.
I emerged after a tiring summit and walked out to my
car. I took another look back at the area. There was
something mystifying and beautiful about this place that
Im not used to. It took me completely out of hectic Los
Angeles and to somewhere peaceful.
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@dailybruinprime | SPRING 2017
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