tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-73240802024-02-06T21:45:22.087-05:00Sophia is LearningA mixture of my thoughts and reflections on things big and small...bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-79238165102769312822018-07-27T02:01:00.000-04:002018-07-27T02:01:14.138-04:00Say what you mean and mean what you say<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was reminded of this old adage today. I went to visit Barcelona informal settlement where we've been working on a research project to implement a pilot sanitation project.<br />
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We first visited in March of last year, and we met a lovely woman who was running a creche (nursery) for children in the area. She showed us around and explained how many children she was caring for and showed us the toilet facilities. We promised to return to visit.<br />
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Although our research group went back several times throughout the year, I don't think we ended up returning to this particular creche. I had almost forgotten about it until today when I was speaking with another resident in the area, who turned out to be the neighbor of the woman who ran the creche. She remembered me and asked why I hadn't returned when I said I would. I was caught so off guard because she remembered me, when I had clearly (ashamedly) forgotten her and the promise we had made. <br />
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I realize how jaded I've become in many instances to the numerous stories and people I've met through the research that we're doing. In a way it's become an exercise of going through the motions since it feels as if nothing ever changes or happens despite all of the promising discussion and ideas we've had. Yet this simple incident reminded me that what we say should have weight and consequence. Too often we say the right thing or what we think we should say, and yet fail to follow through even in simple matters.</div>
bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-44025824885587116772017-07-15T13:15:00.001-04:002017-07-15T22:51:36.042-04:00Jamaica<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In August of 2014, my sister and I were fortunate enough to visit Jamaica for a very dear friend's destination wedding in Montego Bay at the stunning Half Moon Resort. We were doubly blessed because we got to spend quality time with family friends whom we don't usually get to see, and because Jamaica is simply spellbinding. Although we didn't get to sight see as much as I would have liked to, staying at the resort itself was a wonderful experience. We did at least get to visit an incredible bio-luminescent lagoon, where we proceeded to pretend that we were in Dragon Ball Z as we splashed around in the glowing water. (This is not me, but I didn't get any good photos so I'm using this one.)<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo Credit: <a href="http://things-to-do-in-jamaica.com/glistening-waters-in-jamaica/">Glistening Waters </a></span></div>
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The room that my sister and I shared at the resort was simply decorated but very classic and elegant. The staff at the resort were unfailingly polite, helpful and added many little touches such as picking fresh coconuts for us to drink in the morning (while also impressing us with their dexterity at climbing and cutting into the coconut with machetes without slicing off their fingers)! The food was delicious, and there was such a wide variety of food that I had never tried before like bread fruit and saltfish and ackee (Jamaica's national dish) and sorrel (hibiscus sabdariffa) drink.<br />
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The amenities and activities available at the resort were also noteworthy. We had a small private beach area in the back and a communal plunge pool in the front, and the water in both the ocean and the pool were so comfortable that you could jump right in without any shock to the system. The wedding itself was short, simple and sweet, and the setting was lovely with a beach backdrop and small pavilion area for cocktails afterwards.<br />
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I did wonder with all of the open spaces how the resort would fare if there was a major tropical storm or hurricane, but I hope and pray that the resort managers have a well developed disaster preparedness and evacuation plan. I also hope that the employees at the resort are compensated fairly and treated well, but these are things that are difficult to determine in a short period of time. Overall, I would highly recommend a visit to the Half Moon Resort and also exploring outside of the resort if you have enough time. Generally, I am not a big fan of "the resort experience", but I thoroughly enjoyed this particular setting, although I think five days of pampering were more than enough!</div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-55538435739293611902017-06-01T20:48:00.000-04:002018-07-27T02:26:07.844-04:00Namibia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Namibia, stark but stunning landscapes, a photographer's dream. It is one of the most sparsely populated countries in the world. It is a good place to go and be alone with your thoughts, which is perhaps one of the reasons I am so drawn to it, in addition to its indescribable beauty.<br />
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My first visit to Namibia was on a road trip in 2008 with a group of five other young women. We drove from Cape Town to Windhoek with many stops along the way. Unfortunately, Namibia often suffers from drought and at the time oil prices were incredibly high so farmers had to abandon crops. We passed by a field of white pumpkins which we were told was going to be plowed over since it wasn't cost-effective to transport them for sale. We couldn't bear the thought of them all going to waste so we ended up picking one without any clear idea of what to do with it. Several hours and hundreds of miles later, we ended up with a strange version of pumpkin curry which took hours to make since we had to roast the pumpkin. At least we got some good photos out of it...<br />
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Many years later when I returned in 2016, far more well-prepared than the first time around, my perspective was definitely altered traveling with Namibians rather than with a group of American students. There were pieces of history and experiences that I probably never would have heard about otherwise. For example, one of the places that we visited, Shark Island was the site of a former concentration camp for Herero and Nama people in the early 1900s. In a bizarre twist that indicates how humanity has a short-term memory and the general neglect of African history in the western world, Shark Island--essentially a <a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1314399/Hitlers-Holocaust-blueprint-Africa-concentration-camps-used-advance-racial-theories.html">death camp</a> for thousands of Namibians in the early 20th century and a precursor to the Holocaust--has been turned into a vacation and camping area frequented by tourists. Sadly, most have no idea of what happened in the place nor is there a clear memorial or museum dedicated to the island's heartbreaking history.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Source: <a href="http://www.estherlederberg.com/Eugenics%20(CSHL_List)/Shark%20Island%20Extermination%20Camp.html">Esther M. Zimmer Lederberg Memorial Website</a>)</td></tr>
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Namibia, as with many African countries, has a complicated history of colonization and post-colonial conflict and identify formation that is still underway. Towns like Lüderitz for example have distinctive German colonial architecture, but have a surreal feel as if a small German town had been transplanted into a coastal desert area. And it is, undeniably, also a city in an African country peopled by African people. Not far from Lüderitz is the "ghost town" of Kolmanskop, which continues the surreal theme. It's a former diamond mining town that is slowly being reclaimed by the desert with buildings half covered by the sand while the paint and wood picturesquely deteriorate.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doorways in a house in Kolmanskop</td></tr>
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Another stop on our road trip was the Deadvlei (Dead Marsh) in Sossusvlei National Park, which is truly incredible. I couldn't help but think of Salvador Dali's painting <a href="https://www.wikiart.org/en/salvador-dali/the-persistence-of-memory-1931">The Persistence of Memory</a> sans the melting clocks. </div>
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Traveling around Namibia was the perfect way for me to celebrate finishing my PhD and to nourish my soul. I couldn't ask for much more from any place in the world, and I hope to return again soon and explore the northern part of the country.<br />
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-49463255054014756942017-05-18T15:30:00.002-04:002018-07-27T02:15:37.450-04:00Kenya<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I visited Nairobi in 2013 to attend the International Water Association's Water and Development Congress. As luck would have it, a friend and colleague at my university is from Nairobi and was gracious enough to let me stay with his family. Their hospitality was truly unforgettable, and I wasn't even allowed to help wash the dishes although I did try to pitch in when no one was looking!</div>
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My favorite part of visiting Nairobi was staying with my friend's family and spending time with them chatting around the kitchen table while preparing the day's meals, with Mexican telenovelas playing in the background. I remember one day, my friend's mom made this amazing vegetable dish using fresh coconut milk (my friend's family are from Mombasa so coconut probably featured more prominently in the food they made than in other parts of Kenya), homemade chapati and fried fish marinated in chili and lemon juice. I was in food heaven. I later mentioned this to another colleague who was also attending the conference, and he was definitely a little bit jealous since he didn't get to stay with a family or get treated to such wonderful homemade meals. I've realized that as I get older, while I do enjoy "seeing the sights", the memories that usually stay with me are those personal connections and the rhythm of everyday life in another country.</div>
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My least favorite part was the traffic. You need to have a lot of guts to drive around Nairobi. Traffic lights are just a suggestion, and on the highway, due to the horrible traffic jams, off-roading becomes not a past-time but the only way to make it to your destination on time.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="An aerial view of heavy traffic jam along Outer Ring Road in Nairobi. PHOTO | JEFF ANGOTE" src="https://nairobinews.nation.co.ke/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/Outer-ring-road.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo Credit: Jeff Angote for <a href="http://nairobinews.nation.co.ke/news/gridlock-in-outer-ring-road-as-major-road-is-closed-for-construction/">Nairobi News</a></td></tr>
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Despite the traffic, I loved my experience in Nairobi. It's such a vibrant, fast-moving, rapidly changing city, and an economic and political hub for the entire region of East Africa. I say this with the utmost admiration, it is a city of and for hustlers in the best sense, in that almost everyone that I encountered had some kind of side business going or was seeking an opportunity to start one. An example of this was the showcasing of local fashion designers at a conference gala, a first for me at an academic conference. I liked the idea and the designs, especially the patterned fabric:</div>
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My visit occurred shortly after the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Westgate_shopping_mall_attack">Westgate attack</a> so people were on high alert and there were additional security measures in most places we visited. We had to go through metal detectors before entering shopping malls or hotels. Unfortunately, the attack deterred several participants from attending the conference and probably a number of other would-be visitors. While that wariness is understandable, it also highlighted to me some of the double standards that we apply to our notions of "safety" or "safe places". Many "developed" western European countries and Asian countries have unfortunately also been targets of terrorist attacks, but they do not generally experience wide-spread cancellations of travel plans as a result or get classified as dangerous unruly places. A similar response happened after the Ebola outbreak in many countries in West Africa. People coming or going to <i>any</i> African country were suspect, even though countries like South Africa which is thousands of miles away from the outbreak, never had any reported cases during that period while the US and Europe had multiple. As many of my friends would like me to emphasize, Africa is not a country! On that note, I would highly highly recommend visiting Nairobi and other parts of Kenya which has so much to offer. Unfortunately, I only got a small taste of it during my two week visit so I'll have to go back for more.</div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-38450819666172463082017-05-15T15:25:00.000-04:002017-05-15T15:25:26.093-04:00The Netherlands<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Delft, Netherlands</b></div>
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Back in 2012, I visited the Netherlands as the first stage of my PhD journey as part of a multi-year multi-institute project on Sanitation for the Urban Poor in Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia (quite a mouthful)! It was led by UNESCO-IHE which is based in Delft. I didn't have much time to go sightseeing as we were holding a week-long project kickoff meeting, but I do remember a few highlights. My first impression on walking around was that I had suddenly entered a land of GIANTS. Given that I am only five feet tall, and Dutch men and women rank as the<a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/science-environment-36888541"> tallest and second tallest</a> in the world respectively that is not surprising, but I really felt a bit like Gulliver in Brobdingnag at times. </div>
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Some of the things that I really enjoyed during my week-long visit were bicycle friendly infrastructure, beautiful architecture, maatjesharing and polite people. Bicycles are a very common mode of transport in most of the Netherlands it seems. Roads are designed with dedicated bicycle lanes and traffic signals, and drivers are very conscious of cyclists. There are also bicycle racks everywhere and plenty of places to buy bicycles, parts and accessories. Even in the rain many of people could be seen cycling, with groceries in side hanging pouches and children in tow.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: <a href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2724/4179455963_0f73ae500c.jpg">Amsterdamized</a> on Flickr</td></tr>
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The Dutch architecture with row houses and lovely little detailing around the roof was also very charming, particularly given that the city was built around a canal.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHBwQld_RvH6JdSut2XHZNlk4jqp0YPIYi8zBWs804-li87YwQpGizpiuZO834jB0Pgifj5mS0YaI9LjkvRWCRRR-eN_S3CJWGScjC6JoDoBoA7fZzMTyUy0KQxE2OSmJx2uW/s1600/netherlands-delft-old-church.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoHBwQld_RvH6JdSut2XHZNlk4jqp0YPIYi8zBWs804-li87YwQpGizpiuZO834jB0Pgifj5mS0YaI9LjkvRWCRRR-eN_S3CJWGScjC6JoDoBoA7fZzMTyUy0KQxE2OSmJx2uW/s320/netherlands-delft-old-church.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: <a href="http://www.planetware.com/tourist-attractions-/delft-nl-zh-del.htm">Planetware</a></td></tr>
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One fun experience that we had as a research team was getting one of my fellow PhD students, Sam, to try <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soused_herring">maatjesharing </a>(soused herring). He had never had raw fish before, and was a little bit squeamish about it, but in the end he tried it and even ate it the "Dutch way". Unfortunately, I seem to have lost all of my photos from that trip between changing phones and my external hard drive failing on me, but it looked something like this:</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6g_ihLH3Cn46bHKb9uMtjFFc1OBR_7O8A6fXd-I804zTRVU59sDf6kxIQareWQcP6TsYo-J_YQyR8aIf_dkOFKEXV0_WuREBk616Z0LH_6VZyN-j2w2L-HAsFhrcE9FneQwxm/s1600/Haring_03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6g_ihLH3Cn46bHKb9uMtjFFc1OBR_7O8A6fXd-I804zTRVU59sDf6kxIQareWQcP6TsYo-J_YQyR8aIf_dkOFKEXV0_WuREBk616Z0LH_6VZyN-j2w2L-HAsFhrcE9FneQwxm/s320/Haring_03.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo credit: <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soused_herring">Wikipedia</a><br />
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Everyone we encountered was unfailingly polite and spoke impeccable English. I'm not sure if this was a factor of being so close Den Haag (The Hague) where the UN holds the International Criminal Court, but people definitely seemed used to encountering people from all over the world. </div>
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My main complaint, which is more of an observation, is that like most of Western Europe, the Netherlands was very expensive. Fortunately, I received S&T from my university while I was there, and my flight and accommodation were paid for. Otherwise, it would have been a very expensive trip for anyone on a student budget to make. My favorite kind of travel is when someone else pays for it ;o). </div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-8117391101005737752017-05-15T15:24:00.000-04:002017-07-15T22:50:44.494-04:00Places I've Visited or Lived in the Last Five Years<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>Places I've Visited Or Lived in the Last Five Years</b></div>
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I've been meaning to write about some of my travels for a number of years, but some how just never got around to it. (Sound familiar?) I've been really blessed to have the opportunity to visit many cities/countries in the past five years through my research and through personal connections. So I think I'll feature a post on each country chronologically and wrap up with some of my thoughts on why I love traveling so much. Just for some background, I grew up in the US, but have lived on and off in South Africa for the past seven years.</div>
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<b><a href="http://sophia-is-learning.blogspot.com/2017/05/the-netherlands.html">The Netherlands</a></b></div>
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<b><a href="http://sophia-is-learning.blogspot.com/2017/05/kenya_18.html">Kenya</a></b></div>
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<b><a href="http://sophia-is-learning.blogspot.com/2017/06/namibia.html">Namibia</a></b></div>
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<b><a href="http://sophia-is-learning.blogspot.com/2017/07/jamaica.html">Jamaica</a></b></div>
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<b>Thailand</b></div>
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<b>Vietnam</b></div>
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<b>Singapore</b></div>
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<b>Mexico</b></div>
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<b>Botswana</b></div>
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<b>Indonesia (Bali)</b></div>
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<b>Rwanda</b></div>
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<b>South Africa (my home base from 2012-2016)</b></div>
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<b>United States</b></div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-57034730101024402022016-06-13T11:43:00.001-04:002016-06-13T11:43:44.504-04:00What next?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Two of the most frequent (and dreaded) questions you're asked as a PhD student are:<br />
1) How's your thesis going?<br />
2) So what's next?<br />
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Depending on the day or week that you are asked, these questions can trigger mini existential crises and heart palpitations. (It's a bit of a crap shoot so if you're not sure where your friend is in the process, rather don't ask these things!) Fortunately, if you're making progress, these are welcome questions that keep you on your toes.<br />
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I'm almost ready to submit my thesis so part of me wants to do a happy dance, but then the other part realizes, "Oh wait, <i>what am I doing next</i>?" After more than four years of single-mindedly pursuing your thesis topic in the ivory tower of academia, you suddenly are faced with the <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/barry_schwartz_on_the_paradox_of_choice?language=en" target="_blank">paradox of choice</a> (shout out to a professor from my alma mater).<br />
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I find myself in the tricky but privileged position of not only trying to decide what career path to pursue, but also where to pursue it? As an American who has now lived overseas for more than six years, I'm not quite sure where home is anymore. The aphorism "Home is where the heart is" holds a lot of truth, but what if your heart is divided? I love my family, who are mainly in the US, but I also have a seemingly insatiable wanderlust and desire to live all over the world.<br />
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I'll wait to see what opportunities arise and keep praying into these decisions, but I'm happy to dream about the possibilities. So what's the answer to the question? I don't know for now, but I'm happy where I am and grateful to be at this point.<br />
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To be continued...</div>
bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-60759304375888759272015-09-06T13:53:00.002-04:002015-09-06T13:53:49.680-04:00Thoughts on listening<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Chatty Cathy, Little Miss Chatterbox, Big Mouth... yes, I have been called all of these things before. I recognize that is probably a problem. Something I've realized is that words sometimes spill out of me because if they don't, I feel a bit like a boiling pot about to blow the lid. Hopefully writing will be a better outlet for me than talking the ears off of my obliging friends and family.<br />
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I don't think that I am alone in this problem. In trying to address it, I came across a helpful article published in Forbes online entitled <a href="http://www.forbes.com/sites/womensmedia/2012/11/09/10-steps-to-effective-listening/" target="_blank">10 Steps To Effective Listening</a>. As a brief summary:<br />
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1) Face the speaker and maintain eye contact. (*caveat cultural context needs to be taken into account!)<br />
2) Be attentive, but relaxed<br />
3) Keep an open mind<br />
4) Listen to the words and try to picture what the speaker is saying<br />
5) Don't interrupt and don't impose your "solutions"<br />
6) Wait for the speaker to pause to ask clarifying questions<br />
7) Ask questions only to ensure understanding<br />
8) Try to feel what the speaker is feeling<br />
9) Give the speaker regular feedback<br />
10) Pay attention to what <i>isn't</i> said -- nonverbal cues<br />
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The two points that I struggle the most with are #5 and #6. I struggle with #5 not necessarily because I think that I know best, but because I have a strong desire to help when I hear friends/family discussing problems. I realize, however, that it is often best to wait for someone to ask for your feedback or advice before offering it. Oftentimes, all the person wants is a listening ear. I also struggle with #6 because my thoughts tend to race ahead of the pace that the person is speaking, unless the person is speaking very quickly. I agree with what the author of the article wrote about pacing a conversation. The onus is actually on <i>the listener</i> not the speaker to hold back his/her desire to ask questions or to interject, and to allow the speaker to set the pace of the conversation.<br />
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I am hoping that I can improve in these two areas. Perhaps others will also find some of these points useful, particularly with identifying weak areas. In summary, God gave us two ears and one mouth for a reason!</div>
bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-50585869108911754322015-06-24T17:26:00.000-04:002015-06-24T17:31:06.235-04:00Sharing our other selves<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Something I've been reflecting on over the past few months, and which a friend highlighted to me at church the other day:</div>
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When you casually ask someone, "how are you?" how often are you prepared for a non-superficial response? We're often afraid of being
vulnerable so we don armor or a mask to protect ourselves from prying
eyes, gossip, or even for fear of being hurt by misplaced kindness. Expressing pain or fear is difficult to do.
Perhaps we also hide the broken parts to shield others around us because
to look at someone who is in deep pain, be it physical, emotional or
spiritual elicits a complex mixture of sympathy, empathy and perhaps
even disdain or guilt because we are unable to help. So we hide these
parts away, and sometimes are grateful that others hide their
brokenness. We look away, only allowing a select few, if any, to ever
see.</div>
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Sometimes, that may be what's necessary to
function from day to day, at least for a while. But ultimately, when
we're ready to let people into those broken and hurt spaces, what we
thought was ugly isn't as hideous as we thought it was. The broken
shards that we thought could never be pieced together again miraculously start
fitting together. We should choose wisely who we do let in, but
God did not intend for us to go through life alone or to hide our
faces from Him or others when we feel hurt or shame. He asks us to look
at Him, to trust Him and offers to lift our heads, often using those
around us to remind us of this truth. We just have to take that first
step of acknowledging and sharing those parts of ourselves that we feel
are too hurt or too unlovable to reveal. Then we realize that we are not
the only broken ones. We are acceptable as we are, and there's healing
in that first step.</div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-22968764782002605732015-02-07T17:08:00.002-05:002015-02-07T17:08:30.759-05:00Promise keeping<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As with any new year, there are often resolutions abounding. A new year's resolution is generally a decision to do something differently this time around, or often a promise that we make to better ourselves. Fortunately, if we break it, the consequences generally only fall upon ourselves.</div>
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The consequences, however, tend to be more serious when we fail to keep our word to someone else. Why does promise keeping matter? Firstly, because it's the right thing to do. Secondly, the damage that breaking a promise can cause to a relationship, whether personal or professional, can be very difficult and painful to repair. Some promises are implicit, as in an intimate personal relationship, e.g. a parent's "promise" to love and care for a child; while others are explicit, e.g. a contractual agreement. Both are important to fulfill. On an even larger scale, broken promises made to a collective, such as the all too familiar "campaign promises", erode our trust in our leaders and public authorities.</div>
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It's a bit past the new year, but I propose that this year be a year of keeping promises to ourselves and others around us. Here's to a more considerate, kind, honorable year ahead.</div>
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“Civilization rests on a set of promises; if the promises are broken too
often, the civilization dies, no matter how rich it may be, or how
mechanically clever. Hope and faith depend on the promises; if hope and
faith go, everything goes.”--Herbert Agar </div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8kQ2beNztw" target="_blank">TedX Talk on keeping promises </a></div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-58657640527016051262014-07-23T18:15:00.000-04:002014-07-23T18:15:08.997-04:00How are mobile phones changing how we understand ourselves, how we relate to others, and how we do things?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I was thinking about the impacts of communications technology, particularly mobile phones this week, and how in many ways they have transformed our daily lives. Two vignettes from this past week:<br />
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Before our bible study last Thursday, our host showed us a video of a man who was glued to his phone, even while he was walking. There was a point in the video when he actually looked up from his phone to ask directions from a young woman. Eventually, the two got married and a series of significant scenes from their wedding to the birth of their first grandchild were shown. Then the video rewound to the point where he met the woman, but this time instead of looking up, he kept looking down at his phone, and they never met. The lesson is obvious that we may actually be letting our lives pass us by, which is of course one of the negative consequences of being constantly "connected" (although we often do not think about to whom or to what we are connecting ourselves to).<br />
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On Sunday, as I was sitting at Baxter Theatre on my laptop, a man approached me and asked if he could use the plug point to charge his mobile phone. As he was waiting for it to charge we started chatting, and he started discussing his work which entails supplying diesel to African countries, often for military purposes, mainly in central and eastern Africa. He was able to do all of these transactions using only a mobile phone, and can essentially run his business from anywhere with reception. His clients, similarly, could become "powerful" men he said by merely possessing a smartphone, which enabled them to order anything they wanted from anywhere in the world.<br />
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As with any tool, mobile phones can be used for good or bad purposes, but particularly with information and communication technologies, there is something so powerful and personal about how they have impacted our lives and the ways that we interact. Part of the reason that I resisted getting a smartphone for several years was because I did not want to become too dependent on any device, but three years after getting my first smartphone, I feel "naked" or very conscious of its absence when I am not carrying it. As the movie <i>Her</i> beautifully depicted, nowadays it almost does not seem so farfetched for a man to fall in love with an operating system, which can be communicated with everywhere using phones, computers, etc.<br />
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Part of the reason mobile phones have become so integral to our everyday lives is because they enable us to communicate and share special occasions with friends and family, anywhere or anytime, which is truly incredible, but at what expense to living and experiencing the present moment? The social media explosion, facilitated by mobile phones, has impacted the way people experience experiences. We often think in the back of our minds of how great this photo will look on Facebook or of how we should "live tweet" this event, and we are encouraged to do so with hashtags galore. What should we share though, and what should we just keep to ourselves?<br />
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Going back to the theme of connection, as <a href="https://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability">Brené Brown</a> discusses so earnestly, it is something most people yearn for, and mobile phones have enabled us to do so with people around the world--and that is a good thing. But, there are times when we need to disconnect ourselves from the world around us, and center ourselves, reflect, and enjoy the present moment that we are living in with the people who are in front of us. Striking that balance between staying connected with the world and with ourselves is not easy, but I will say some good ground rules would be:<br />
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<li>Do not keep your phone on the table at dinner or check it unless you are waiting for a friend who is late, and kindly ask that friend to try not to rely on a cell phone to tell you that he/she is going to be late! Especially if he/she is habitually late. Get a watch friend (and not a Pebble ;-)! </li>
<li>Turn your phone on silent before you go to bed. </li>
<li>Set boundaries for when people can contact you, unless it is an emergency. </li>
<li>Put the phone down sometimes or leave it at home when it is a short excursion or you are not expecting anyone to contact you.</li>
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Aside: I was lucky enough to meet the author of <i>Me and My Cellphone</i> at a friend's bridal shower, which is now on my to read list! <br />
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Related articles:<br />
<a href="http://psychcentral.com/news/2011/06/29/love-me-love-my-cell-phone/27348.html" target="_blank">Love me, Love My Cell Phone</a><br />
<a href="http://www.prevention.com/health/healthy-living/my-cell-phone-making-me-sad" target="_blank">Do Cell Phones Drain Your Happiness? </a><br />
<a href="http://www.pewinternet.org/2012/11/30/part-iv-cell-phone-attachment-and-etiquette/" target="_blank">Cell Phone Attachment and Etiquette</a><br />
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-49029334087245467392013-11-06T10:29:00.000-05:002013-11-06T10:29:17.730-05:00Breaking writer's block<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been told that a good way to break writer's block is to write something unrelated to what you actually need to write. I hope that is true... wait not quite. I think I will cheat and post up some photographs from my recent trip to Nairobi in hopes that they will inspire me to write.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUK4jiXPDoffn1D2ISC9_xnj5T4txXLmmiTZymNtnf_2bQj34B4Vt9sOw2j10R7ti9pZeZAr6Z6HeGH3lbztoP7LUvNiZqAKHk8ERvLlmYBOBoQksrwj6UAmEB8wNgpF3Z494_/s1600/2013-10-08+06.06.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUK4jiXPDoffn1D2ISC9_xnj5T4txXLmmiTZymNtnf_2bQj34B4Vt9sOw2j10R7ti9pZeZAr6Z6HeGH3lbztoP7LUvNiZqAKHk8ERvLlmYBOBoQksrwj6UAmEB8wNgpF3Z494_/s320/2013-10-08+06.06.20.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving Cape Town for Johannesburg early in the morning</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9XyUOJnReq7QMs1_oqBy0FImMjU6ugAflgQuEqpa6OZ_bYeCD0rczKQQq4MPlZ0BRWWzzsJfI31Jmzk4iTShsIRh0PZOO694BoV4Q1Y1EVynPrL6ymGvCCKOIKvnY6VTr-WQ/s1600/2013-10-14+08.58.27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt9XyUOJnReq7QMs1_oqBy0FImMjU6ugAflgQuEqpa6OZ_bYeCD0rczKQQq4MPlZ0BRWWzzsJfI31Jmzk4iTShsIRh0PZOO694BoV4Q1Y1EVynPrL6ymGvCCKOIKvnY6VTr-WQ/s320/2013-10-14+08.58.27.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A view of the Kenyatta International Convention Centre in Nairobi</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMtz3uF-kv4t2zj65ecE8fcgN0Xbaj9uSniF0lzHe_XjMgqzQNaXfBW5D15guzR8zp8LcqnDIk-O_TN9TDl0aeS5iuVz5hp2oPsXFLcG1w0TxDn_6bhzhQoXyiZwyE9Q5rg6hU/s320/2013-10-14+16.58.41.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outdoor fountain in front of the Kenyatta International Convention Centre</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfIvMA92YRWU-nqQmd1t7NLFQNSdxmVPENnR2BBdmPcmo7ZbRgWcj50b6bqYratoPkZ_qVv0t6fRVLmdNZE7PDpSqvnFG_FLvUoGJajLRJijUwDJ2FdRFWRnzhKeaxLkQ0W38/s1600/Curvy_model.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivfIvMA92YRWU-nqQmd1t7NLFQNSdxmVPENnR2BBdmPcmo7ZbRgWcj50b6bqYratoPkZ_qVv0t6fRVLmdNZE7PDpSqvnFG_FLvUoGJajLRJijUwDJ2FdRFWRnzhKeaxLkQ0W38/s320/Curvy_model.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Models at the gala dinner on the last night of the IWA conference</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqiH53qhcdSb4BmiqkyLObQZo1-B3IDVHbTvk3AG8SpEvsFN6YYsHqQLpsWL1uNINpjzST1MTqgK3OnjHZnAtBC-z3qqCu8k_7Vw3uPhXteH-4Z8gD9GxO3IXfg7cBoyNBbcU/s1600/Iko_toilet_front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtqiH53qhcdSb4BmiqkyLObQZo1-B3IDVHbTvk3AG8SpEvsFN6YYsHqQLpsWL1uNINpjzST1MTqgK3OnjHZnAtBC-z3qqCu8k_7Vw3uPhXteH-4Z8gD9GxO3IXfg7cBoyNBbcU/s320/Iko_toilet_front.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Public toilet in CBD of Nairobi</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNTUWOiMgjrjUkfcrI5GsUsQ55Jz16ZagL2MggX-PQ2iUVJRXxyuQiFeYWdtFfxgC13DmmK4exb2phyZoaHCg6i00Tio4fCiGAV35M3X1PFnofN5WRUTBjIJS1spfAKoacXgp/s1600/Kibera_bio_centre_squat_pan_i_used.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNTUWOiMgjrjUkfcrI5GsUsQ55Jz16ZagL2MggX-PQ2iUVJRXxyuQiFeYWdtFfxgC13DmmK4exb2phyZoaHCg6i00Tio4fCiGAV35M3X1PFnofN5WRUTBjIJS1spfAKoacXgp/s320/Kibera_bio_centre_squat_pan_i_used.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Squat pan inside of bio-centre in Kibera (the one I used!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rooftops in Kibera</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Karen Blixen house (author of <i>Out of Africa</i>)</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtIp_fbCAcJsphzqATnFzfZHyveUflQ4hTKIkYEpBqeFe6UcsB_HvPaPwoOsX2Hy_ik55EqXhRO3V4raRRYAR7dhZkJpQIswAsfWq1ES02vncrBoltxNOl6KdCwy91_89hH846/s1600/Karen_Blixen_house_front.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i> </i></a></div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-23263881898250721602013-05-15T17:04:00.001-04:002013-05-15T17:04:50.943-04:00How can it be May already?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I like many of my friends seem to be wondering where the year has gone to, can it really be almost halfway through the year already? What have I accomplished so far? What do I still need to do? As another month rolls by, I've started to take stock of what's happened already, and what I hope to complete during the rest of the year.<br />
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The past few months have been jam packed, but at the same time, I have a tendency to get anxious that I'm not quite as far along with my PhD as I'd like to be, or that the end of the year is nearly here and that I need to start planning for this that and the other thing. I, like many people who are slightly type-A, tend to try and control and manage time, and bend it to our will so that we can squeeze as much as possible into it. Something that I have learned to appreciate, while living in a place where the pace of life just naturally seems to be slower than what I am used to, is to really enjoy and appreciate not feeling compelled to fill every waking hour with activity. While sometimes I'll admit that can be detrimental to accomplishing everything on the "TO DO" list, ultimately it has allowed me to be more reflective, to pray more, to enjoy just being alive.<br />
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A quotation that I found very recently sums this up very nicely, "“Learning to <em>let go</em> should be learned before learning to <em>get.</em> Life should be touched, not strangled. You've got to relax, let it happen at times, and at others move forward with it." -- Ray Bradbury, <i>Farewell Summer</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WT_62kk2kbMwnGdu__JVhnWeMRitmYd2drtATEUxBN3aSIiXXNJRxz873wtsyEj-Tnh94RI6MZjvmHYS9iUqT8DEvSIPJZMI-xLKfLHQyPyc0rpqDxawMbGeMn2qhVJk1H_u/s1600/Jumping_in_Maltahoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8WT_62kk2kbMwnGdu__JVhnWeMRitmYd2drtATEUxBN3aSIiXXNJRxz873wtsyEj-Tnh94RI6MZjvmHYS9iUqT8DEvSIPJZMI-xLKfLHQyPyc0rpqDxawMbGeMn2qhVJk1H_u/s320/Jumping_in_Maltahoe.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-37760278704996270502013-01-03T12:29:00.000-05:002013-01-03T12:29:31.018-05:00A new year<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLuf8vi5S1TOCY4c0WCpSvLJIbQu68F8fwl7ypsUteMgD0sEB_QMlF9LA9BRr6ATjKKBrLTWyk9ijALnDleHTnUCappMEelqSPcNTjbOKRf_TiLqU0EoXQrNfk4etq1U9QYaFs/s1600/Cactus_flower+12-29-2012+11-28-58+AM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear:left; float:left;margin-right:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="239" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLuf8vi5S1TOCY4c0WCpSvLJIbQu68F8fwl7ypsUteMgD0sEB_QMlF9LA9BRr6ATjKKBrLTWyk9ijALnDleHTnUCappMEelqSPcNTjbOKRf_TiLqU0EoXQrNfk4etq1U9QYaFs/s320/Cactus_flower+12-29-2012+11-28-58+AM.JPG" /></a>
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There's something about the new year that always signals the possibility for change and new beginnings, even if they are largely symbolic. 2013 is no different despite dire forecasts from political and financial analysts. Although I'm hesitant to make too many new year resolutions, there is at least one that I hope to uphold. I hope that this year I can more fully appreciate the time that I have with friends and family, however limited, and lament less about the time that we don't have together. <br />
<br>On a lighter note, Melissa mentioned something she's doing for the new year, which I think many would benefit from. Writing down at least one good thing that happens each day, and storing it in a jar over the course of the year so that at the end of the year she can recall and reflect on all of the good things (big or small) that happened. Since I don't have a jar ready yet, let me write these first positive notes from 2013 down here:<br />
<br><b>Jan 1</b>: Hung out with Schoolies where we made homemade pasta (my first time!) and played Just Dance, making a fools of ourselves and having a blast.</br>
<br><b>Jan 2</b> My cousin Jenny, whom I have not seen face to face in over six years came to visit.</br>
bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-15840818675930927642012-07-04T10:47:00.000-04:002012-07-04T10:47:12.542-04:00Fourth of July<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrbkGsosHXNtW9YCCaC_34CR1JR3t1HcCj9U32npNSNbJLQZl2qWyYCB2c-IHwp8_RN7C-XMhZ8hwn9g_7LMlFV7Ga1_zYsVqfvQzKIg6ATQ0vYKFOgQQiQZ9Ct-JXom_RIej/s1600/Frederick_BarbaraFritchie.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrbkGsosHXNtW9YCCaC_34CR1JR3t1HcCj9U32npNSNbJLQZl2qWyYCB2c-IHwp8_RN7C-XMhZ8hwn9g_7LMlFV7Ga1_zYsVqfvQzKIg6ATQ0vYKFOgQQiQZ9Ct-JXom_RIej/s320/Frederick_BarbaraFritchie.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Barbara Fritchie House, Frederick, Maryland</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvE0pDWpwJeO-OCWlzfY9MPiSk0-JhaHUnjO9h3vV1LQQxyc4vLbAPx-KCyDNEuLSGCs-q6nGSI662-_d71Q4EMPo5zYYZf5pKmHtejO1t9iYv-zkYLWyLJqasye3uKXe49CO/s1600/Powell_Street_Edited_2011-11-08+01-45-57+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivvE0pDWpwJeO-OCWlzfY9MPiSk0-JhaHUnjO9h3vV1LQQxyc4vLbAPx-KCyDNEuLSGCs-q6nGSI662-_d71Q4EMPo5zYYZf5pKmHtejO1t9iYv-zkYLWyLJqasye3uKXe49CO/s320/Powell_Street_Edited_2011-11-08+01-45-57+PM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">San Francisco, California<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27An25TYt_wWAuwqeRmqFiUGa2zIxtUZDLBuJuBmjQ-q_-1P6-G5gVanvrrONXWPSE9Qf0VXn7iyqe_Qe-5JOqrkrQ_SDJZud7aaTPUy-K2TpoIYsgzyCe0dWv-OVd8hJA0c9/s1600/Grand_Canyon_Borders+2012-04-01+10-30-36+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27An25TYt_wWAuwqeRmqFiUGa2zIxtUZDLBuJuBmjQ-q_-1P6-G5gVanvrrONXWPSE9Qf0VXn7iyqe_Qe-5JOqrkrQ_SDJZud7aaTPUy-K2TpoIYsgzyCe0dWv-OVd8hJA0c9/s320/Grand_Canyon_Borders+2012-04-01+10-30-36+PM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Grand Canyon , Arizona</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDDKs3k4meEkrrHV_AJKkpMvWvoq_rW5hsxrIl_2P4k2NPMULLxRnJseNqszhryTfpx0tjVyC2dNhx3RDXyYFb6Vx-tbkUkF3OZvwn42i2OSU5Hy2dmqG0z3REXUBKVnGmOZy/s1600/Calico_County_Signs+2012-04-02+11-18-38+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDDKs3k4meEkrrHV_AJKkpMvWvoq_rW5hsxrIl_2P4k2NPMULLxRnJseNqszhryTfpx0tjVyC2dNhx3RDXyYFb6Vx-tbkUkF3OZvwn42i2OSU5Hy2dmqG0z3REXUBKVnGmOZy/s320/Calico_County_Signs+2012-04-02+11-18-38+PM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Amarillo, Texas</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vz0Hc7Zp3-nq-iVnHijallr7nn9BtDQwqyr6ShfroVCgl3jANOEF7MPhS4ak0ydWJhEjKRNCQkYBo8Bpwoo7Ch6TAVFfJqQrtpjd5PiEC2Y6LxMuInRuXexQYjnhg6VUPS8m/s1600/Endless_Road_Sky+2012-04-02+07-40-07+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7vz0Hc7Zp3-nq-iVnHijallr7nn9BtDQwqyr6ShfroVCgl3jANOEF7MPhS4ak0ydWJhEjKRNCQkYBo8Bpwoo7Ch6TAVFfJqQrtpjd5PiEC2Y6LxMuInRuXexQYjnhg6VUPS8m/s320/Endless_Road_Sky+2012-04-02+07-40-07+PM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Interstate in New Mexico</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hg9zW0z8DXgbAnK0g9zw1fV9iDVQr6qa6VdOpm67TpBhgRUrdxz_gI2aMsWKbgvD7JxprzjmSo5_khwtATOz769tdDBiGOD0gayo5WzSmmeR97ZtmEXng3ERpvY-pUWzYUsn/s1600/North_Carolina_Leaving_Smokey_Mtns+2012-04-04+08-21-42+PM.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hg9zW0z8DXgbAnK0g9zw1fV9iDVQr6qa6VdOpm67TpBhgRUrdxz_gI2aMsWKbgvD7JxprzjmSo5_khwtATOz769tdDBiGOD0gayo5WzSmmeR97ZtmEXng3ERpvY-pUWzYUsn/s320/North_Carolina_Leaving_Smokey_Mtns+2012-04-04+08-21-42+PM.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Smokey Mountains, North Carolina</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Tennessee</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Queens, New York</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">There's something about being an American in another country that makes one especially circumspect about what it means to be American, particularly when coming from an immigrant family. There's a struggle with the duality of being American, but also recognizing that there's another heritage and culture that you can lay claim to, and others may immediately associate you with.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">I was thinking about the Declaration of Independence today, and the ideals that: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;"> <i>all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are </i></span><i><b style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness</b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">.</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">and how those rights might be interpreted, and for whom those rights are guaranteed in our country today. I won't go through a list of the numerous issues, which many know that we are currently confronting ranging from climate change (which for some reason is still being debated as a reality) to healthcare reform to any host of other pressing matters. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Instead I just wanted to present some of the multiple views of the United States that I've been blessed to visit and experience over the past few years from "sea to shining sea". When asked what it means to be American, I hope that we still believe in unalienable rights <b>for all</b><i>, </i>but respect that there is no uniform experience to make one "more American" than the other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Wishing peace and blessings to all my fellow Americans on this day, and those supporting and struggling to attain the rights to life, liberty and pursue happiness around the world. </span></div>
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<br /></div>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-68819048694569003252012-04-26T12:32:00.003-04:002012-04-26T12:32:56.536-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So on our cross-country road trip from California to New York with my sister, I decided to record the gas prices around the country. I was just curious to see how it varied by state from April 1st through April 10th, 2012. Not surprisingly, California and New York had some of the most expensive gas prices! Unfortunately, I lost my receipt for California so I didn't include it in the chart, but it was definitely well over $4.00 per gallon.</div>
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I definitely noticed a trend that the coastal regions were more expensive than the southwest and southeast. I lost the receipt from when we were in Texas, but surprisingly the day that we stopped in Amarillo, TX the gas prices were actually cheaper in New Mexico than they were in Texas.</div>
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More to follow on the road trip, but I wanted to share this before I lose all of the receipts.</div>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-11313118899822116032011-12-21T02:23:00.000-05:002011-12-21T02:23:55.663-05:00First month of working<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After a little over a month at my new job, things are finally starting to feel a little bit more familiar. The learning curve is still pretty steep, but little by little I can feel the progress. Some of the main differences I've noticed between working and studying:
In a reverse of the usual, I'll start with CONS and then move to PROS:
<b> </b><br />
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<b>CONS</b><br />
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<li>It's not okay to "miss class" i.e. just not show up to work one day</li>
<li>"Passing" is not enough, your mistakes have more serious consequences than you not getting a good grade</li>
<li>It can be a little monotonous </li>
</ol>
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<b>PROS</b><br />
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li>
GETTING PAID (I'm sorry if this sounds a little mercenary, but after 24 years as a student/intern/volunteer getting a real salary feels kind of good) (Aside: I promise to invest in community and worthwhile causes!) </li>
<li>Being able to leave work at work (yes, there are exceptions to this particularly around deadlines, but it's nice to be able to go home and veg without the ever-looming homework assignment) </li>
<li>Getting out of theory and into practice
Yes, I have stacked the odds so that they are even, and I'm sure everyone has a different experience. Overall, despite any challenges or occasional bouts of boredom, after all the months of job-searching, I'm grateful to have found something that both pays the bills and is intellectually stimulating and rewarding.
I wish everyone the best on their job search and career development, and happy holidays! </li>
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</div>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-44799707386573566662011-10-25T20:59:00.001-04:002011-12-21T02:24:21.103-05:00Digging through the closet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't know if anyone else has ever experienced this, but digging through my closet felt a bit like going through a time capsule. Previous versions of myself emerged. I almost forgot that I used to adore Sanrio, the book <i>Chester's Way<a href="http://books.google.com/books/about/Chester_s_Way.html?id=-qKYfIvFUSIC"></a></i>, and princess crowns. It was both cathartic and a little sad to part with some of these remnants of childhood, but I think it's important to periodically de-clutter your closet. Some bonus items that I found:
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<ul>
<li> a $20 from my high school graduation (SCORE)</li>
<li>two goofy pictures featuring JAG and me making the "wow" "mom" faces</li>
<li>a self-portrait from 9th grade art class</li>
</ul>
So I encourage you to go digging through your own closet to see what buried treasures you may find.</div>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-45866645470065216222011-10-15T13:51:00.000-04:002011-10-25T21:04:38.981-04:00What a difference a year makes...In re-reading some of my old posts I realize what a different place I was in not only physically but also mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I can hear the lyrics of "525,600 minutes" from Rent. It really is true that it's hard to know how you measure a year. Time can feel really fluid at times flowing so quickly that you hardly have time to register what's already happened let alone keep track of what's going on, and other times when it slides along slower than molasses. <br />
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As corny as it sounds, I've reached one of those crossroads about to make the transition from an unemployed student to joining the workforce or the "real world", although I never liked that term. Sometimes when I ask friends and family who have been working for many years what their day was like, it seems to always be "same as the day before" day in and day out, work is work. I accept that to a degree that each day takes on more structure and a similar pattern when you have an established routine, but I hope not to fall into the trap of monotony. That's one of my greatest fears of taking what seems like the tried and tested road to worldly success.<br />
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I'm writing this to remind myself not to forget what I should be working towards, which is not just my own personal gain but beneficial to the world at large, meaningful, and serving a Godly purpose. I really have no idea what I'll feel or be like in a year from now, but I look forward to this next phase of life, and hope the same for anyone else going through a major life transition.bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-49177401167050771262011-08-09T01:00:00.000-04:002011-08-09T01:00:21.103-04:00Photographs from South Africa<a href="http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=7006882008/a=26149566_26149566/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/">South Africa (2011)</a><br />
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<a href="http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=7006882008/a=26149566_26149566/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/">South Africa (2010)</a>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-82685531454327000842011-08-06T16:40:00.003-04:002011-08-06T16:41:36.188-04:00A new blogI'll still be writing in this blog occasionally, but I'm starting a more thematic blog on job-searching at this address: <a href="http://blackberrylemonade.tumblr.com/">http://blackberrylemonade.tumblr.com/</a>.bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-68432225619508040042010-10-09T05:37:00.001-04:002010-10-09T05:38:34.926-04:00TensionsRecently, I have felt pulled in so many different directions. I know the old adage that worrying never gets you anywhere, but it is difficult to resist falling into the trap. The recent New York Times article about "<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html">Twenty-somethings</a>" and the cloud of confusion that they sit under hit a little too close to home in many ways. <br />
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It is a privilege, I know, to be able to have the luxury of options, but it certainly complicates the question of what to do post-graduation. I remember sitting in this position two years ago before graduating from Swarthmore and wondering where I would be the following year, and even four years before that wondering which college to go to. But the gravity of each major life decision increases with the passage of time.<br />
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In a sense there may be no clear, singular shining path that beats out all others but rather a right direction to move in, but the fear of making a wrong choice can be crippling at times. These days I struggle to answer the most basic of questions about where I am going to be next year, and what I will be doing. Every so often a glimmer of clarity will come through, but like a mirage or shifting moods those glimmers tend to pass quickly.<br />
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At the core of my struggle are both selfish and unselfish motives. On the one hand I want to be somewhere that satisfies my need for natural beauty, cultural richness, and diverse experiences, but on the other hand I want to make sure that my choice is not completely self-serving and ignores those whom I care about. And as my sister always reminds me, while I may not particularly like money, there is always a need for it so I cannot be completely liberated from "practical" considerations.<br />
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I feel simultaneously a desire to put down roots and a desire to wander, a desire to have a comfortable stable life or one filled with adventure and unpredictability. Ultimately, I am trying to trust God and walk in faith since He's never let me down before and never will, but a part of me wonders when these tensions will be resolved...<br />
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Note to my worrying self, wherever the answer lies, all I can do is live life each day purposefully, intentionally and faithfully. Those doors will open.bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-84154567474440544002010-09-05T19:01:00.000-04:002011-10-25T21:05:30.891-04:00West Coast National Park- Floral heavenJust a sample of the incredible spring flowers on display at West Coast National Park. Pictures do not do it justice.<br />
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<embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf" width="288" height="192" flashvars="host=picasaweb.google.com&captions=1&hl=en_US&feat=flashalbum&RGB=0x000000&feed=http%3A%2F%2Fpicasaweb.google.com%2Fdata%2Ffeed%2Fapi%2Fuser%2Fnotalwayssophia%2Falbumid%2F5513564102450920449%3Falt%3Drss%26kind%3Dphoto%26authkey%3DGv1sRgCIfB9d2hnJfuqAE%26hl%3Den_US" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer"></embed>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-25634423281953457562010-08-04T09:10:00.000-04:002011-10-25T21:05:50.649-04:00My one year anniversary with Cape TownSomething I’ve realized since coming back to South Africa is that wherever you are, you develop relationships not only with people (the obvious relationship type) but also with places. By place I don’t mean just the physical things that you can see, but many of the unseen things like the institutions, the cultural practices and norms, and the general environment and the feelings that those evoke. <br />
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I can compare my relationship to South Africa very much to a bumpy romance. My first experience in Cape Town was a sense of bewilderment and awe as I stepped off the plane: bewilderment praying that our study abroad program coordinator would find me since I had no contact information or address for where I was supposed to be staying and awe for the spectacular mountains and coastline that I had just flown over. The mixture of feelings grew even more complex when I was briefly informed that the house I was staying in had been burgled the night before my arrival. Fortunately, none of my soon to be housemates were injured, but everyone was feeling unsettled. I had that classic pit of your stomach churning feeling, “Girl, what have you gotten yourself into?”<br />
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Indeed that question is still unanswered to date, but I am so grateful that God has somehow helped me coordinate or orchestrate my life into this place. The “infatuation” phase probably started after our first field trip to Cape Point and to see the penguins in Simon Town. I couldn’t stop “oohing” and “ahhing” at everything that I saw. Once we took our field trip to the Cederberg and watched the most amazing sunset I have ever seen to date whilst sitting in a quiver tree forest, that was it. South Africa officially had me.<br />
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Road trips across the country and daily explorations around Cape Town made me realise how little I knew about my newfound love. I was barely scratching the surface of its complexities between urban and rural, rich and poor, white and black, and all of the shades in between: the constant sing-song of the minibus drivers driving up and down Main Road, “Cape Town... Wyaanberg,” the ever present profile of Table Mountain demanding attention and admiration, as compared to the open blue skies and softer rolling green hills in the Eastern Cape, which quietly steal your heart. I was enamoured with all. <br />
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Leaving Cape Town that first time was completely heartbreaking. I was not ready to say goodbye. I felt as if I was being cruelly wrenched away, although I was leaving of my own volition. There was a small matter of graduating college to attend to.<br />
Returning to my hometown and then subsequently to school made me realise how much I missed South Africa, but also reminded me of the other places I loved. That in fact, there were other relationships (with both people and places) that I had been neglecting. It was so easy to get caught up in the “newness” of my relationship with South Africa that I pined for it initially, even though there were other opportunities to grow relationships with the people and places immediately around me. I recognised it even as it was happening, but the momentum of missing something carried me along for several months.<br />
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In a way it was a good thing to have formed such powerful emotional bonds because otherwise I wouldn’t have had the courage to come back, but I have also had my eyes opened to how much I romanticised my study abroad experience. As most study abroad students probably will admit, study abroad is for the most part a glorified extended spring break. Of course there are academics, some programs are much more rigorous than others, but no one goes abroad to study in school. You are much more willing and able to be a student of life as cliché as it sounds, which is one of the main reasons I wish everyone had the opportunity to “study” abroad.<br />
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Returning to South Africa to complete a Master’s degree has afforded me the opportunity to live and study here under completely different pretenses, and that has been eye-opening to say the least. The more I learn, the more I realise I do not know or understand and have to be content with my own limitations. The rose coloured glasses have come off as I realise that “laid-back” Capetonian attitude is a veneer in some cases, and some of the vibrancy is fueled by unspoken urgency, and much is swept under the carpet (as with any city). And yet, and yet... I have fallen even more deeply in love with this place and have learned that to really love is to seek to understand and deepen beyond superficial impressions although it comes with a cost.<br />
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So when I am asked, “Do you plan to stay in South Africa after you graduate?”, all I can really say is I am still learning each day. I don’t have the answer yet, but we shall see. I’m trusting the Lord with all my heart, and know better than to lean on my own understanding.bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7324080.post-61051020813892443352010-06-15T06:53:00.004-04:002010-06-19T04:09:31.321-04:00Alternative Perspectives on the World Cup<span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://groups.google.com/group/antieviction/msg/784d74c2296d2d4b?pli=1">Poor Peoples World Cup in Cape Town</a></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="https://docs.google.com/Doc?docid=0AUwNe5SmRyX0ZGZxcWpianNfMjk2ZGhzcW1jZHo&hl=en">Myths and Realities of the 2010 World Cup</a></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><a href="http://sanitationupdates.wordpress.com/2010/06/10/wash-united-introduces-the-world-toilet-cup-game-in-africa/">WASH Sanitation World Cup</a></span>bluesoccerberryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08500899992235203827noreply@blogger.com0