Take Ahmed. Ahmed was THE fishman at Supersol, the largest grocery store in West Jerusalem, where I did my shopping almost daily this summer. Despite the fact that Ahmed, an Arab-Israeli resident of the Old City of Jerusalem has never seen the ocean, he loves fish. Every day after we said our hellos, regardless of whether I was even purchasing dairy products, Ahmed insisted on describing the catch of the day, in detail, and the exact way to cook salmon or tuna to perfection.

Eti was another interesting character I met this summer. The Romanian-born grandmother of my Israeli friend, Eti at one point was rumored to have earned a PhD in Art History. Now, Eti, who lives in a beautifully furnished apartment in Tel-Aviv, has one passion: The Bold and the Beautiful. As the newest American in town, I was fielded anxious questions about the current status of the scandalous affairs of characters with names like Simone and Stephan. Although she has lost two out of her five children in Israel's successive wars, Eti had no interest in discussing politics, past or present.

Of course, defining the "real world" and its "real people" can be sticky. Whose to say that the quality of mackerel and incestuous soap operas are more "real" than any of our daily concerns, especially for we seniors, for whom resume font size and Kaplan Review are no laughing matter?

It is the interaction with different types of people, with different interests, goals and perspectives, that enriched our summers. Also, in a community with little diversity of age, hopefully the summer offered an opportunity to take long walks with grandparents, sip tea with the elderly or hear what it was like to be young in the good old days.

For me, playing with kids half my age was a refreshing break from angst-ridden twenty-somethings. Outside the Old City in Jerusalem, I found a group of ten year-old Arab boys, who always played soccer in the late afternoon. I became a regular member of their pick up games, trying to ignore the stares of tourists and passers-by.

Leaving the real world to re-enter the Harvardsphere (kind of like the biosphere, but fewer plants and more TFs) also has its perks. The opportunity to immerse ourselves in a socially and intellectually unique. After all, part of education, if I correctly interpreted my General Ed 105: The Literature of Social Reflection readings from this week, entails a suspension of reality and a lunge into a magical never-never land.

Enveloped by the electric buzz of activity permeating our campus, though, perhaps it is healthy to step back in the next few weeks and remember the voices and smiles of the real world people. Waxing nostalgia will not cut it, though. Harvard University, believe it or not, is actually located in the real world. It will be our continued responsibility over the coming semester not only to touch base with the real people, but to dedicate time and energy to real needs.