sometimes i just feel so far away

shit is a metaphor for growth and renewal
-will cannings

the world can be kind of overwhelming- Honors Thesis Discussion 1

I recently had a meeting with my Honors Thesis Mentor, Professor Caswell, about the project I am undertaking this year. To give some brief context I am writing a creative non fiction piece about my time in Costa Rica.
So one of the things I am dealing with is poverty, which is a very very broad topic. I am going to do more research in an attempt to narrow it down. I recently came across the term "neocolonialism", which very basically is the idea that colonialism is still happening in countries that were formally colonized. I am coming to understand that the United States has (and is?) greatly influenced many countries in Latin America, and, in some ways, has devastated them.
I want to know what we are still doing. I want to know what our interactions are with Costa Rica.

I chose to focus on poverty in my story, because I came to understand that poverty was a reason why I was robbed.

So I was explaining all of this to Professor Caswell. He was reading through my proposal and asked if it was true that I mainly went to Costa Rica to see poverty. Which I did. I wanted to work on my spanish, get out of Lubbock, but I could have easily done all of that in Spain.
He told me that I would need to provide background into why I wanted to go to Costa Rica to see poverty, because a reader is probably not going to buy that.
So I was sitting down to draft why I wanted to go to Costa Rica to see poverty, and felt it would be better to blog about it.
A lot of things contributed to that:
1. A sense of wanting to help those less fortunate than me that has been something I've felt throughout high school. I never felt like I was actually doing anything to help (which in all honestly I probably wasn't). I don't think I had any real desire to travel and see the people I wanted to help though.
These feelings became a lot stronger when I heard about the Rwandan genocide in ninth grade, and then later saw Hotel Rwanda when I was a Junior.
2. Coming to college I heard about Darfur. I went to a talk by Ambassador Nagy on Darfur, and was really struck by the idea that this was happening now. I didn't want my children to ask me about the Darfur crisis and then ask why I hadn't done anything, as I did to my parents when I learned about the genocide in Rwanda and Bosnia.
3. I have lived a very blessed life and was never really exposed to poverty. It was hard for me to relate to the pictures I would see of the refugees camps in Darfur. It was hard to relate to any of the pictures I later saw of starving children with their bloated bellies.
4. A speaker from the non-profit, Glimmer of Hope, came to speak to my Africa in the Contemporary World class. He talked about how you can't really understand poverty until you have tasted, smelt, seen, and heard it. You really have to use all of your senses.

But, why go to Costa Rica to experience poverty? Why not just stay here?
Maybe it is easier to see poverty in a place that isn't your home. Somewhere you can leave. Somewhere you don't have to drive by every day and feel that pang of guilt knowing the people living behind the closed doors of the houses. Knowing that 1 in 4 children in Lubbock live below the poverty line.
Here, I can sit in my living room on the more west side of lubbock, and not have memories of what is happening miles away from me. I can think, instead, about the children I met in Costa Rica, and think about their lives, knowing that I have done what I can, and now can only send them good thoughts.
But if I were to go into Lubbock, go the Parkway center and become truly involved with the students, how hard would it be to live my life knowing how they lived theirs?

I don't regret my time in Costa Rica. I am glad I went, because no matter where we are, there are always stories to learn. Going to Costa Rica pushed me out of my comfort zone and forced me to rely on myself to make a life there. I think it would be harder to do that in Lubbock.

easily one one my favorite

things about college is sitting at a coffee shop (sugar brown's or j&B depending on our mood and glen's desire for a java shake) with glen and laura. easily one of my favorites.

i want to enjoy it as much as i can before we all are physically separated. i love being at texas tech in lubbock.

CREAMY BEIGE!

I LOVE BEING ALIVE!

Afghanistan Inspires Me

I have been awake for two hours, and spent a good majority of that time in bed reading Open Veins of Latin America (wonderful book to wake up to. I'm on the part where the conquistadors kills half of the indigenous population in Latin America). After more lazing around, fixing breakfast, getting an amazing cup of that blood orange tea, I went to morning edition to see how the election process in Afghanistan was doing.

Mostly, I can't comprehend what it must feel like to be afraid to go to the voting station. The reporter was describing how so far, in Kabul, there hasn't been a high turn out, because people are waiting to see if there will be attacks. She said a few people have come to vote, because they feel that, despite the very real risk of injury, they feel voting is more important.

In a country where we often choose not to vote because the drive is too long (not going to lie, this past presidential election, I went to vote at the rec, and there was a really long line. I debated leaving), it is inspiring to hear about people willing to risk their lives for a ballot.

What was even more inspiring was listening to a report about how people were using donkeys to bring polling booths and ballot boxes to rural areas in Afghanistan.

A NPR photographer is traveling with a group of these donkies, the Afghan National Police, and others assisting in the process. His report can be here: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=112051151

I can't repost them here, but I would encourage anyone who is reading this to go to the website and see them all, as they are breathtaking and encouraging to think how far the human spirit will go in the struggle for human rights.

starting to feel my eyes

being back in lubbock is amazing!

it feels so good here.

was that good laura?

life and all it's choices

I have been looking into several graduate programs lately, and feel overwhelmed, excited, and still like I don't really know what I want to do (in terms of a career). I'm not worried about this, because:

1. I don't really have a background in what I want to go into

2. I think that the answer will become more clear once I have studied it more

3. As long as I am helping people, I think I will be happy

4. My life really is in God's hands, so I don't feel I need to worry

SO I want to go into something that deals with International Development. I am learning that there are many many ways in which someone can do this. For example, you can do the Masters International Program with the Peace Corps (http://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=learn.whyvol.eduben.mastersint). Or you can get a masters degree in International Development. Or you can get a masters degree with an odd title like "Masters of Arts in Law and Diplomacy" http://fletcher.tufts.edu/mald/default.shtml

This degree is more like international relations/affairs where you can specialize in development.

That is the route I am leaning toward. I want to understand how the world works (haha not that I could completely learn this from a master's degree. I guess what I meant was I wanted to get a better idea of how the world worked) before jumping into the development sector.

What I think I really want to do is get a general masters that deals with international relations/affairs in which I can get a better idea about the world (historical, political, and social interactions) and then be more specific when doing my doctorate.

I am finding myself drawn to course work that involves women and ethnic issues/development.

And Africa. And Latin America.

Mostly I wanted to type it all out so that I could have a better idea of what I wanted. Thanks for listening.

it feels like august

tom is working on tracey's bike and every other word is that angry cursing God kind. oh how nice it is to be home?

nicaragua was an amazing place, filled with amazing people and deserves a very detailed explanation with lots of pictures. the experience definitely changed my life.

but for now tracey and i are rushing around the house packing up my car with all of our material possessions. we easily are fitting everything we need, but only because we were both blessed with AMAZING roommates that provide things like... furniture, mini fridges, beds, tables, etc etc. we are such moochers.

i'm so excited to be in lubbock, to live in an apartment with just buns and kind of glen and ty, but mostly i'm excited to take tracey away from this place. i can't wait for her to see a different way to live, and to escape the negativity that has nested around our house.

my mom took off work today to spend time with us. it was really nice. we went to paris and ran some errands and ate every meal together. we talked about communisim and socialism, trade systems, coffee, oppression, and many other things. and for the first time all summer she kept an open mind and mostly listened to me. i showed her pictures from the trip and she constantly compared them to india, which is fine, and she enjoyed them. i showed her my art from this last semester and i took some of hers from when she was in college to display in our apartment.

while i was in nicaragua i felt absolutely amazing the majority of the time. i was so inspired and excited and i couldn't even imagine what feeling bad would be like. but, reality kicked in and i let the world get to me tonight... but it isn't lasting as long as it usually does. it's only been about ten minutes and i feel fine.

everything is so possible, and tomorrow will be a beautiful day.

Guess who is back?

Not back enough. But soon.

Three Cups of Tea

The apartment has been moved into. With the amazing help of Sarah, Kristin, my Mom, and Ty my room is almost done. I have a few posters and wall decorations to tack up and a rug to arrange, but other than that my desk, futon/bed (btw, not such a good idea. I thought it would be cool to have a “chair” in my room…yeah, not so much.), Issac Newton quote, lamp, and amazing tree of life wall scroll are up. The room feels so much more like a home than any of my previous ones have. And the apartment too. I like these apartments. They aren’t real big, which is nice, but seems to have more room than the Carpenter Wells one did…and so much less noisy.

I feel like we are failing our original goal of reviewing books on this blog. I have read at least three since my last review, but oh well. You do what you can. A couple of weeks I read Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin. The book was a non-fiction account of Greg Mortenson's journeys into Pakistan and Afghanistan to build schools for the rural children. It was a really inspiring book--Mortenson is married with two children, but still spends months over in Pakistan and Afghanistan building these schools for the other children there. I honestly couldn't do that. I guess what was also cool was the book started at the very beginning. Mortenson was a mountain climber, and attempts to reach the summit of K2 (pictures of this mountain can be found in a previous post). He fails (due to a medical emergency) and gets lost coming down. He stumbles across a town called Korphe, and the people warmly take him in and care for him. He picks up the local language and gets to know the people, only to find that the town's children do not have a school. The children meet on the top of a hill, in the cold, to practice lessons from a once-a-week teacher (I believe) in the mud. So...the book takes off from there. It was interesting to read about how Mortenson manages to get the funding for the school, only to go back and realize that they have no ways of getting the supplies to the village, so they have to build a bridge first. It's a very good comparison of our Western mentality in comparison to the mentality of the villagers of Korphe. I am not by any means saying that the villagers were stupid. I rather admire their practicality, and how hard the elders worked to build a village for their children. But also, it was amazing to read about how different people in all of these areas of the world made the schools possible. Though Mortenson was the one to go to Pakistan and Afghanistan to initiate the schools, he, by no means, accomplished this alone.

The cover of the book says "one man's mission to promote peace...one school at a time.", but this isn't correct. It was not the work of one man, but many.

So I guess, I would end with saying that it is truly amazing to see how the work of many can be brought together to create so much goodness in the world.

The book also started each chapter with a quote, and many of them were very good. Not going to lie, sometimes I enjoyed the quotes at the beginning more than the actual story (it dragged), so I will end this post with one.

"Why ponder thus the future to foresee,

and jade thy brain to vain perplexity?

Cast off thy care, leave Allah's plan to him--

He formed them all without consulting thee."

--Omar Khayyam, The Rubaiyat

I think my word for the summer has been "small". Since Terri did a recap of her summer, I thought it would be fun to do it as well. Not that summer is over. I am thrilled that it is only August 2nd! But tomorrow I am moving into my apartment, and that begins a whole series of things that need to be done, so in a way my blissful having nothing to do is over. If it was ever even there.

Wow, I don't even know where to begin with this summer. I guess it started in May, and what followed was three weeks in which I spent pretty much just with my family. Barbara still lived down the street, so we saw a lot of her, and often had nights where I would cook and be like "invite Barbara! Invite Barbara". Or for icecream. Or to watch a movie.

I was also preparing and freaking out about my trip to Costa Rica. Working briefly. Attending counseling and feeling very empowered. It was a very empowering summer.

Then Costa Rica. Beautiful amazing Costa Rica. My mother never fails to bring up me being robbed when she tells people I went there, but I wish she would associate it with the so many better memories I had. Yes, I was robbed, but I learned so much from it. And feel so much less naive about the world. I needed that, in a way. But I also felt like I was helping others, doing something I had been called (in a way) to do. I loved the students I worked with, loved their enthusiasm. I also made an amazing friend, which gave me the confidence to go into other situations in which I don't know anyone.

I felt very close to God on that trip, and for the first time in my life, completely let go of my concerns and followed where life led me.

It has been more challenging to do that now that I am back. Especially now that I am back from vacation. In Costa Rica there wasn't as much that needed to be done...but really...there isn't here.

Life is a journey. It's not something I just want to get through. It's something I want to enjoy.

I felt also, for one of the first times, that if I died, I would die without regrets. I feel like I'm made the most of what life has given me. I mean, there would be somethings I wish I had gotten to experience.

The almost three weeks we spent visiting family was...I don't really have just one word for it. I spent more time with Kristin, and enjoyed it. I feel like I was unnecessarily snappy on the trip, and didn't take the time to spread my arms and feel the wind. Mostly, we were never in one place long enough to become accustomed to it. So it passed quickly.

But I love my family. I love seeing them...for those few days each year.

Maybe I will go to grad school closer to them.

I did read a lot.  And write.

I am almost done with a short story about my time in Costa Rica, called "Small Seeds". I started out writing it as fiction, and found that it was all true.

I want to end this entry with a story of some sort. My Pap, Nana, Kristin, Dad, and Mom were driving somewhere in Pittsburgh. I handed my Pap his seat belt, and he said "no thanks, I'd rather see the Lord."

Small story.