correspondence

My apologies for taking so long to write; the best way to make it up is to compose a nice long email updating you with every minutiae of my life.

The last semester was very stressful. There was an ado at Scripps over a t-shirt printed by the 5-college crew team that read “Scripps College: Men don’t go here, they just come here”. Many women found it at least problematic and at most very offensive. They sell shirts every year poking fun at each of the college stereotypes. I think last year’s for Scripps was “T-shirt slogans are offensive to women” - bizarrely prophetic.

Classes were also stressful. I always perform poorly second semester, I just get so sick of being in school. For some reason it feels meaningless: answering questions I don’t care about, writing essays that are just hoops I have to jump through. I know it’s pretty silly, I shouldn’t act like a spoilt brat; I am so blessed to be where I am. I got incredibly tired of one class in particular, a history of 19th century London and Paris. The professor and material were exciting (too much French history though, I’m a true anglophile), but the students in the class were too close-minded for my liking. My fuse has recently become quite short, I don’t tolerate things the way I used to. For the first time that I can remember I lost my temper in a class - twice actually, at the same person. Half way through the semester I was introduced to the writings of Catherine MacKinnon and experienced a conversion to Radical Feminism. Is it odd to talk about it as a conversion? Perhaps. But it felt like that. I’d always identified as a feminist but I’d never lived the beliefs I espoused. I think that had an influence on the shortening of my fuse. I finally realized the connection between language, gender equality, and social behavior. I'm a lot more aware about the way people use words to talk about men, women, and gender.

The semester finally ended in May and the last two weeks were hell. I had to hand in a final late because I hadn’t managed my time well (who knew I would write 24 pages about the history of hair from the late 19th century to the early 20th century?!). I was so relieved to be on the flight home to Seattle for the summer. I’ve been here for the past two months volunteering and trying to enjoy my “last” summer (it’s technically my “last” summer before I leave college for the non-college world). I volunteer at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Community Center in Seattle. It’s mainly secretary work, answering the phone and doing odd jobs around the office. I really enjoy it, I love working with people for a cause I believe in. I’m also volunteering for the East African Center for the Empowerment of Women and Children. This is far more challenging. I’ve volunteered to raise $1000 to help build a school in Takaungu, Kenya, close to where I stayed. I’m always up for a challenge and this one is exercising my abilities in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

Everything else is going pretty well. I enjoy being in Seattle, it feels like paradise sometimes. A lot of the time I spend daydreaming or planning for after college. I’m still thinking about teaching or working for an NGO, but I’d like to fulfill my dream of living in England. I’m researching the visa requirements for emigrating and what I would have to do to work there. I’d either have to get my master’s and work experience here or go to a graduate school in England. It’ll be more expensive in the UK, but my god! I’ve always wanted to go back, ever since I was a little girl. I lived there when was a kid and swore I’d return. It would be much scarier applying to schools in England because I don’t know what they want and how I’d go about applying. I’d almost rather work and study in the US for a bit and then go. I’ll probably apply for Teach for America or another teacher training program. There’s always the white privilege possibility of traveling in Europe for a bit of post-college back-packing. Oh the possibilities!

Well, I think that’s a pretty good update. I’m laid up a bit because I pulled my hamstring yesterday while I was running so the next few days are pretty much shot. You’ll probably here from me again soon.

Exasperated

some guy tried to rub up against me
in a crowded subway car
some guy tried to feed me some stupid line
in some stupid bar
I see the same shit everyday
the landscape looks so bleak
I think I'll take the first one of you's home
that does something unique

some chick says
thank you for saying all the things I never do
I say
you know, the thanks I get is to take all the shit for you
it's nice that you listen
it'd be nicer if you joined in
as long as you play their game girl
you're never going to win

today I just want someone to entertain me
I'm tired of being so fierce
I'm tired of being so friendly
you don't have to be a supermodel
to do the animal thing
you don't have to be a supergenius
to open your face up and sing

somebody do something
anything soon
I know I can't be the only
whatever I am in the room
so why am I so lonely?
why am I so tired?
I need backup
I need company
I need to be inspired

- "Face Up and Sing" Ani Difranco

correspondence

I thoroughly enjoyed looking through the pictures and I've taking a select few with me to college to adorn my walls (think roosters and blood – mwa ha ha ha ha). Fool that I am I forgot to bring your letter with me. I’m currently on the flight down to school from home. Sitting next to me is a rather stiff businessman who looks like he was either in the army or a football player, I can’t decide which.

How are you? How is your semester going? I’ve been a horrible correspondent and haven’t written to you once, my apologies. When I’m in school I crawl into my shell of academia and magazine writing like the good hermit crab that I am. My life is full of history, mainly British, and one literature class (British again). Even though I’m a history major I’m getting a bit sick of it all, especially in the past few weeks. I feel like a hamster racing away on a gilded wheel – going nowhere, doing very little of meaning but continuing nevertheless. Of course then I feel like silly character from a Chekov play and I shut my trap. Ever seen a Chekov play? Well, avoid “The Three Sisters” if you can. I found it painfully boring and too familiar a topic. It tells the story of a rich Russian family in Moscow who spend the entire three hours of the play (I'm not kidding, three hours) complaining about how they want to be in St. Petersburg instead. Rich white bourgeoisie complaining about their lives. A little too close for comfort if you ask me. There was probably more to the play than that but I missed it. In any case, I realize how daft I’m being and I quit my whinging. The education I’m getting is excellent, if at times it seems abstract and meaningless, I should be thankful.

....Two days later.

I was in a rather horrid mood that day, it was the first time I didn't want to go back to college after a vacation. Very bizarre. I think the wander-lust is returning, I like day-dreaming on where I will go next. Speaking of going places, any plans on returning to Kenya? I wanted to go back this summer but I don't think I can, I need to work. How's L doing in Tanzania? I talked to O over break and he said she'd be visiting Kenya at some point. He said everyone in Lamu is fine, though his cousin's husband passed away. Have you heard from N? I'm sending letters to our family in Kaloleni, I wonder if F got to Switzerland alright.

correspondence

I found the journal when I got back here, more fool me. I've decided to impersonate a Chekov character for the rest of the week. Boo hoo hoo, my rich white bourgeois life is so horrible, boo hoo hoo. Running on the golden wheel still. To increase my interest in academic life I've decided to incorporate unusual words into my papers and class discussions. I've been able to use "genitals" in the paper I'm working on right now and hopefully I'll think of more. I need to generate a random list somehow. Any suggestions? Thanks for a wonderful visit, I thoroughly enjoyed the Upstairs-Downstairs and relax time. The prospect of a summer in Seattle is looking increasingly more tempting. Alright back to the grindstone.

correspondence

Thank you for the lovely letter, it is such a joy hearing from you. I admire your ability to find beauty amid such destruction and despair; it’s easy to forget that beauty exists and be weighed down by troubles. You are also a good writer, the world you describe comes alive through your words. I’m left both comforted and distressed after reading them. Comforted because I can hear your voice in your writing and distressed because I want to help but do not know how. Write as often as you can, I look forward to every email.

Life in the US is going well. I’m at home for my week of Spring Break which is very pleasant. I had to have mouth surgery on Friday and today I finally feel on the way to recovery. I’m on a liquid only diet which is a bit odd, I’ve started craving crunchy things. When my parents sit down for dinner I gaze enviously at their solid food and their working jaws. It wasn’t serious surgery, don’t worry. Because of genetics and braces my gum line was slipping from my front bottom teeth. thanks to genetics I have thin gums and big teeth and the braces I wore interfered with Nature, et voila – receding gums. According to the periodontist my gums were “traumatized” by the braces experience. I suppose the receding is the equivalent to post-traumatic stress. I thought about therapy for the gums but I just don’t have the money. In any case, they took a piece from the top of my mouth (2cm by 1cm – larger than I thought, I watched him snip off the fat after he took it out!) and sewed it to my front gum line. Apparently the two will meld and I’ll have new gums. Right now it looks like something from Frankenstein but never mind.

My parents are well, dad is working hard on his book and mom is energetically making the house into a home (the garden is beautiful, I can’t wait for you to visit again). The cats are also doing alright, they like having another lap to laze on. They all enjoy having me home, I’m utterly spoiled but that’ll end as soon as my parents see I’m better. Unfortunately I had to bring work with me but I probably would’ve been horribly bored without it. I have a lot of writing to do: two papers, some articles for the magazine I work for and plenty of letters. The papers I’m avoiding at the cost of my sanity. One is on Flaubert’s “Sentimental Education” and the other is about the construction of Victorian masculinity. I’m worried about my Flaubert paper, I didn’t enjoy the book and I’m really not sure what to write. I’ll figure it out somehow. I should probably do that instead of working on my correspondence.

School in general is also going well. I’m taking two British history courses, a British literature course and a history seminar (history is major, my concentration British history). I love all of them and I like feeling busy. Thesis is looming in the hazy horizon of my future, a little bit nerve-wracking but not too much. I’m now editor-in-chief of the college magazine I work for which is exciting. I enjoy working with a team of writers and artists to produce a publication. I don’t think I want to go into journalism but the experience and the constant writing practice is excellent. My life at school consists mainly of academics, the magazine, and my girlfriends. I get bored and tired of the guys I meet. This time is for me, my learning and my growing.

Yet it doesn't feel quite right being wrapped up in my own bubble here in the US. When I got back from Kenya I had many fine ideas about going back, doing this and that, helping more, being more "aware", etc. Somehow it's all faded away. All I think about now are my classes, the magazine I work for, my future. There are moments of terrible guilt when I see how selfish I'm being, I should be focusing my energy on helping others and not just myself. I'm not sure where those moments will take me. I do need to make more of an effort to change my community for the better. It's also been difficult realizing how quickly my relationships in Kenya are fading. Home-stay family members who are very hard to keep in touch with, friends who I promised letters to - again I feel guilty for focusing my energies on my friends at college. I suppose being on break will help, I can finally write the letters and make the phone calls I've been meaning to. Do you have any suggestions? I keep thinking of the airplane safety warning, “secure your mask before helping others”. Is it selfish to want to secure my future and my life before I start helping others? I’m sure I’m boxing myself in and there must be a middle-ground but it’s frustrating.

Alright, I really should begin work on that Flaubert paper, perhaps writing this email has warmed up my writing muscles. Hope you and your friends are well. I’m sending peaceful and restful thoughts your way.

correspondence

Thank you for the beautiful email! I'm glad I'll be able to hear news from Argentina. The long emails I wrote from Kenya were such a joy to read-over when I got back, I'm sure you'll feel the same once you get back to the US. How does your experience in Buenos Aires compare to your experience in Mexico? How does the group differ? I can't believe there are 150 students, that's a lot! Well, I suppose it's normal compared to the small SIT trips of 15-20 students. I'm not surprised you got American culture shock from just being around American college kids, we bring our culture where ever we go and often as a defense mechanism in the face of the unfamiliar. Reading your email made me want to pack my bags and join you! I've never been to Argentina or any South American country for that matter. Based on my very limited knowledge of Argentina it's a very unique place compared to other countries in the area. I've heard people say it's an interesting mix of European and South American and the European influence is very strong. I believe you talked about that in your letter. How do the Agentinian students compare to the American? Would you say students there are more politically and socially active than students at our school? Any thoughts why? I wonder if you'll have time to answer all my questions, I have a tendency to ask too many questions.

Everything here is alright. It's Spring Break right now and I'm at home. I had mouth surgery on Friday (nothing serious) and I'm completely dopped up on pain killers. I'm also on a liquid only diet which is a bit odd and the lazing about is driving me insane. After an entire day in front of the telly watching "Upstairs-Downstairs" (Brit period drama set in turn of the century London) I had to get up and do something. I know we only saw each other a bit when you visited (how was that stay by the way?), hopefully we'll have more time to catch up next semester. I'd love to exchange travel stories.

It doesn't feel quite right being wrapped up in my own bubble here in the US. When I got back from Kenya I had many fine ideals about going back, doing this and that, helping more, being more "aware", etc. Somehow it's all faded away. All I think about now is class, the magazine I work for, my future. There are moments of terrible guilt when I see how selfish I'm being, I should be focusing my energy on helping others and not just myself. I'm not sure where those moments will take me. I do need to make more of an effort to change my community for the better. It's also been difficult realizing how quickly my relationships in Kenya are fading. Homestay family members who are very hard to keep in touch with, friends who I promised letters to - again I feel guilty for focusing my energies on the friends at school. I suppose being on break will help, I can finally write the letters and make the phone calls I've been meaning to. Do you keep in contact with the people you met in Mexico?

I'm going to have to cut this short, I need to take another pain pill and not do anything. This mouth situation is not conducive to thinking or writing. Best of luck and I hope to hear from you soon!

correspondence

Asante sana kwa email yako, ninapenda kusoma habari ya kenya na wewe! Habari yako? Habari ya SIT? Niko nyumba yangu katika mji wa Seattle, kuna mvuaa nyingi lakini ninaipenda. Kila kitu ni sawa sawa hapa. Baba na Mama yangu ni sawa, baba anaandika kitabu na mama anapenda kusoma. Sasa ni mapumzika (is that correct kiswahili?), nitapumzika kwa wiki moja, halafu nitarudi chuo kiku changu katika California. Nina swali kaka. Ikiwa ninataka kupeleka barua, bahasha ao vitabu kwa rafiki zangu katika kenya nitafanya nini? Ninataka kupeleka barua ao bahasha kwa familia yako katika Mombasa (my old homestay family), lakini sina address wao. Nitauliza Danny pia.
I hope you are fine na kila kitu ni sawa. I miss you kaka, I miss you very much. I saw a photo of you yesterday, it made me want to come back to Mombasa soon. miss you and say hujambo to Athman, Ali and Tima!

A Wise Man Once Said..

And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain."
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.

- Khalil Gibran

correspondence

This took me long enough to reply! Pole sana baba. Congratulations!!!! You're a grand-pa now, how does it feel? I hear you have a new batch of students (and I believe you're in Lamu). Hope everything is going well. I do miss being there, it's become easier being back here but still - things don't quite feel the same. I've gotten back into my old routine: classes, writing for my magazine, studying, thinking, chatting with friends and some wine. It's been challenging reconciling my different lives, the one I had last semester and this one. I try not to lose sight of the goals and promises I made. On that note I have a question. I want to send books to St. George's and St. Michael's in Kaloleni, what's the best way for me to do that? Should I send them to the SIT office with money for you to send them to Kaloleni? Or should I send them directly to the schools? What if I want to send mail to my Mombasa homestay family, Lamu, or my Kaloleni family? Perhaps these are silly questions...I'm sure you'll let me know. I know you're supper busy and I don't expect a reply soon but just when you get a chance (I know what it's like being insane with work!). Send my love to all in Lamu, especially Omari, Athman the curator and Ali. If you see Reuben, Anne or Geoffry send a very warm "hamjambo!". Tell them I'm still trying to study kiswahili, there might be a class I can take over the summer. Anyway, back to the grindstone of work. Asante sana baba! Ninafurahi lakini nina kazi nyingi. Wekendi iliyopita nilihitaji kusoma 1,251 sahifi kwa darasa yangu. I nearly went insane.

Valentine's Day

A week before the battle of Bull Run Sullivan Ballou, a Major in the 2nd
Rhode Island Volunteers, wrote home to his wife in Smithfield.

July 14,1861
Camp Clark, Washington DC

Dear Sarah:

The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. And lest I should not be able to write you again I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I am no more.

I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how American Civilization now leans upon the triumph of the government and how great a debt we owe to those who went before us through the blood and suffering of the Revolution. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this government, and to pay that debt.

Sarah, my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but omnipotence can break; and yet my love of Country comes over me like a strong wind and bears me irresistibly with all those chains to the battlefield. The memory of all the blissful moments I have enjoyed with you come crowding over me, and I feel most deeply grateful to God and you, that I have enjoyed them for so long. And how hard it is for me to give them up and burn to ashes the hopes and future years, when, God willing, we might still have lived and loved together, and see our boys grown up to honorable manhood around us.

If I do not return, my dear Sarah, never forget how much I loved you, nor that when my last breath escapes me on the battle field, it will whisper your name...

Forgive my many faults, and the many pains I have caused you. How thoughtless, how foolish I have sometimes been!...

But, 0 Sarah, if the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they love, I shall always be with you, in the brightest day and in the darkest night... always, always. And when the soft breeze fans your cheek, it shall be my breath, or the cool air your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by.

Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again...

Sullivan Ballou was killed a week later at the 1st Battle of Bull Run.

correspondence

sema, habari yako? habari ya Mombasa na familia yako? Ninafurahi kwamba wanafunzi ni wazuri, ninaarithi kuwa pale! Kilakitu ni sawa sawa hapa. Nina kazi NYINGI!!!!!!! Ninahitaji kusoma vitabu vyingi lakini ninafurahi kwa sababu ninapenda kusoma. Ninafanya kazi kwa gazeti (newspaper) hapa kwa hivyo ninaandika reports. Ninapenda kufanya kazi, my friends say I need to have more fun. Ninakukosa kaka! Happy Valentine's Day!

correspondence

Nilipeleka post card (post kada?) yako jana. Sijui itafika lini (that can't be grammatically correct). Hakuna shida kuhusu kazi yangu, nitaishi (translate: I will survive, my dictionary doesn't have "survive"). But I gotta tell you, having 1,251 pages of reading was not fun, siipenda. Unakaa mama mdogo katika Nairobi? Ni vizuri sana, nimefurahi kwa wewe. Habari ya homestay familia na Nairobi na Mombasa? Una ndugu? Wana miaka mingapi?
Nimesahau kiswahili, ninatake kualia. Ninafikiri kwamba nitahudhuria darasa ya kiswahili katika Seattle over the summer.

Everything is fine and dandy here. I know I should be writing this in Kiswahili but I've got about a million things to do on my to do list and well, time is of the essance. I had the strangest dream last night, I went back to Mombasa with my parents! Very very bizarre. We only had a week and I was freaking out that I wouldn't be able to see everyone. Niko California na kuna mvuaa! It's rather pleasant actually - a break from all that sunshine. How are the students on this Nairobi trip? I'm so happy you're having a good time and I do wish I was there. I made castles in the air about coming back to Kenya soon but I don't know if those will work out. I'm finding more pressing issues are keeping me back here. Sometimes I think I'm just being selfish. How could I let all those kind people just slip out of my life? But then a part of me realizes it's also important to see what I want to do with my life before I can start helping others. I keep thinking of the airline safety warning, "secure your mask before helping others". In any case. I miss you and your common sense advice. My best to all in Nairobi and Mombasa. Will you get to see the Mombasa crew soon?

shoot me in the foot

I just looked over TSL and got depressed. They've seriously improved since I last picked up their paper...occasional mistakes but fantastic stories and in my opinion decent lay-out (I'm sure M would disagree). If it's possible for a woman to feel emasculated, I do (I tend to associate that word with men). However they did have an IDIOTIC article about coming back from abroad. This girl was in Santiago, Chile and said it was weird from home and now its weird being back. She actually had to take public transport to school in Santiago! How trying on one's soul to take public transport and be without tofu for four months. You know what's "weird" about being back? Going into any of the dining halls and thinking about all the starving children and grandmothers begging in the streets. Going to a CMC party and thinking about the slums of Nairobi and the rural coast of Kenya where poverty is the norm. Ugh. I'm going to go read.

reading for this weekend 1,251 pages
writing for this weekend 10 pages

currently: 732 pages to go
currently: 8 pages to go

I thank the world I live in that I am here and I have what I do. I would not change a thing.

correspondence

I apologize for taking so long to write. It was such a pleasure visiting, I wish I'd had more time. Before I got completely wrapped up with academics and the magazine I work for I wanted to keep you updated on my life. Despite my best efforts to achieve a balanced schedule I've managed to take four classes that require an incredible amount of reading: one book per week for each class (that adds up to four books, approximately 300 pages each, plus supplementary readings). Yesterday I was reading from 9am to 2am, I've never had so much reading in my life! I feel like I'm cramming my brain full of Christmas baubles, bright new ideas that break easily to make room for new ones. All of my classes in some way relate to either a) historical theory or b) British history and imperialism. I'm thrilled to say the least, though I wish I was doing more African history. I met my potential thesis reader and ran some ideas by her and she liked them. I won't lie, I squealed in the privacy of my own room I was that happy. I'm vigorously working on the magazine, it's hard but rewarding work - I love it (having the title associate editor soon to be editor in chief helps). After trying for a year to learn guitar, with marginal rather pathetic success, I've decided to take up the fife. I never considered myself very musical, but from my art and dance experience I've learned the power of practice and perseverence. Hopefully it'll pay off; so far I can only play "Kookaburra" and I probably annoy my neighbors to no end.

Transitioning/adjusting to college life is going alright. I have my moments of "Where the hell am I and what am I doing?", it takes a little patience to adjust my psyche. The most heart-breaking part of this experience is realizing how quickly I'm forgetting what I learned in Kenya. Scripps is a very different life style, full of clothes, books, booze and everything in between. Priorities are different and its difficult to adjust to that. It's hard getting used to the hedonism, materialism and superficiality I see every day and that I'm slowly becoming a part of again. I try my best to look at this as a separate foreign culture which requires the same understanding and open-mindedness I had in Kenya. Taking things day by day is important, it's easy to get hysterical about very minor things...and major things like post-college plans. This evening I went to an info session about Teach For America and I'm seriously considering becoming part of the movement after I graduate. It's crazy to think about life after college, I don't really know what to do with myself.

correspondence

I know (vaguely) what you mean about being busy. I say vaguely because I just finished talking to some Teach for America Corps members who successfully convinced me of the amount of work teachers face. Anyway, I feel slightly overwhelmed here at school but nowhere near as you must. I've managed to take four classes that require I read one book per week plus extra readings and writing responses. I spent yesterday reading from 9am to 2am. Unbelievable. I think I'm going to start counting how many pages I'm expected to read per week and post them on my door or something. Thankfully I love everything I read, I just wish I had more time to do it! I desperately want Hermione's time device...that would make my life slightly less hectic.

Since you last wrote has there been a second date??? I love hearing about my friends' romantic journeys, they are most often far more exciting than mine. I tend to focus on academics and "me" when I'm at school - boys are the perifery, the back-drop if you will. They flit in and quickly out of my life very much like butterflies and I regard them as such: beautiful, incomprehensible and dumb (am I cruel?). Occasionaly I get rather fluttery when I find a guy I can actually communicate with. In any case, I'd love to hear more.

correspondence

It was equally lovely to hear from you! Apparently you're having some rather chilly weather over there, almost as cold as it is here (it snowed here a week ago). I'm glad you enjoyed the email; I enjoy writing, it gives me great satisfaction. However I'm struggling with my grammar and punctuation, commas are still a mystery to me. I also tend to go overboard when it comes to description, "carried away" is the best way to put. I could easily just say the hills were green and there were sheep (so many sheep!). Perhaps with age and experience I will learn to tone down my exuberance for metaphor, simile, analogy and whatever else I use. Give me your favorite memory from the past two weeks (it's so much more fun than just asking "How are you" which ellicits a simple one-word answer, hardly descriptive). What really stands out? Perhaps you don't have time, I understand - my life is quite hectic back at school.

I nearly pissed my pants with joy when I saw the books I had to read for my classes. Three of my classes relate in some way to Victorian England (my concentration in history) and the fourth is a history seminar. Yipee! I met my potential thesis reader and ran some ideas by her and she liked them. I won't lie, I squealed in the privacy of my own room I was that happy. I'm vigorously on the magazine I write for, it's hard but rewarding work.

Transitioning/adjusting is going alright. I have my moments of "Where the hell am I and what am I doing?", it takes a little patience to adjust my psyche. The most heart-breaking part of this experience is realizing how quickly I'm forgetting what I learned in Kenya. Scripps is a very different life style, full of clothes, books, booze and everything in between. Priorities are different and its difficult to adjust to that. I try my best to look at this as a separate foreign culture which requires the same understanding and open-mindedness I had in Kenya. Taking things day by day is important, it's easy to get hysterical about very minor things...and major things like post-college plans.

correspondence

My appologies for missing our phone date, life was a bit too crazy but that's a poor excuse.
My heart really went out to you as I read your email. Coming back is hard, I'm going through it right now. What holds me together is something my Academic Director told us: take the same cultural understanding and openmindedness you had while in Kenya/Ghana and apply it to your home culture. It's helped me immensely. The materialism, hedonism, superficiality, are hard to deal with but I have to understand that these are parts of my culture and are coping mechanisms to wider social/cultural/economic issues. They are not random but have a history and it's helped I know that history. Does this make sense? I struggled with my gut attraction to materialism. New things, bright things, bigger things, things things things. I felt so guilty for wanting when I'd just come from a place where people had so little. How could I want that shirt? I have enough shirts. It was even worse with books. Books were so hard to find and so expensive in Kenya, most people couldn't afford them. Yet here I was in a store, one of many on the same street, being able to get anything I wanted. All this knowledge, which is of course a form of empowerment, being denied those who could use it most. Libraries! A place to find books for nearly FREE. It just killed me inside.

I too felt a new type of happiness and contentment while in Kenya. Shedding myself of my materialism (to the best of my ability), being reduced to the bare resources/necessities, connecting on such a human level with perfect strangers was a powerful experience. It's confusing finding yourself caring about things you may not have 2 months ago. But don't be too hard on yourself. We are socialized and programed to think a certain way, it's hard to break out of that pattern. What is important is to understand how that pattern effects us and what we can do to change it. I'm also forgeting many of the resolutions and promises I made in Kenya and hurts to see this is happening. But I feel it's a psychological way of coping with a changing environment. People tend to want to fit in wherever they are, adapting as best they can to the new culture; perhaps even comprimising some of their previous ideals just to feel connected. Still spending emotional energy on him is human, so is the temptation of drugs. In emotionally fraught situations reverting to old habits, regardless of how detrimental they may be, is reassuring if only for the familiarity. Why do I want to smoke cigarettes? Because it reminds me of the life I had before and because it's addictive. Why drink? It makes me feel connected to people, sharing their experience, when I'm having a hard time connecting to those I was closest to. Yet everything feels so surreal. Being at a party, drinking, watching young men and women flirt with each other, watching the games they play - all so unreal, so different. I find it difficult not screaming at them about the pain I witnessed, about the suffering they are ignoring, about how they don't understand. Why are they damaging their bodies for pleasure? Shouldn't they be thankful for everything they have? Every breath they take is blessed because they are able to breathe without worrying. Such rantings would be hypocritical, for I destroy my body and will eventually play the games they play. The only hope I can have for myself and for you is to somehow find a balance between my life here and my life in Kenya. One is not better than the other, only different. So I admired the way elderly were treated in Kenya? Should I just complain about how we ignore or grandmothers and grandfathers, sending them to homes to die alone? No. I refuse to give up. Instead why don't I work at a hospice or a nursing home giving the love, attention and breath of youth many elderly crave. There is power in the small things we can do to change our lives and the lives around us.

further notes from the southern hemisphere

Dear friends,

I am in transit again, though in New Zealand not Kenya. I made a whirling jet-lagged stop State side for a week and then off on another fifteen hour flight to Auckland. All this seemed excuse enough to keep writing my long emails. I should note that I've been working on this letter off and on during my time in New Zealand.

Returning to the States was strange, and yet that word doesn't quite capture the feeling. Life wasn't as foreign as I'd anticipated but moved too quickly. I was relieved to be near the familiar yet unsure what familiar was anymore. I felt naked in Penn Station with so many penetrating eyes. The way people passed each other, cold, ignoring, rushing, not trusting. There were few smiles and no cheerful greetings between strangers. I didn't like it, but I as I walked around Queenstown I found myself doing the same thing. Unfortunately I don't particularly feel like going into my "re-entry" feelings and thoughts. If you're curious ask, but I don't know if I'll have answers – I'm still working out how I feel. This email will skim the surface of my psyche and no more.

Being in New Zealand requires much eye-gazing, there is much natural beauty. Yet with every rolling hill a part of me thought "this isn't Kenya" – sometimes I wish it was. New Zealand possess a different beauty. There are farmlands of orchards and row after row of vegetables. Trees huddle together for company or stand in solitary meditation on grassy fields. Cows relax in fields freckled with dandelions and woolly sheep nibble the greenery like flecks of salt on lettuce green hills. Wildflowers line the roads like so many onlookers at a parade, watching the cars whip by. I spotted Queen Anne's lace, foxglove, Scottish broom, buddleia, double daisies, and white clovers. All English flowers brought presumably by the colonists. Quaint you say? Pretty even? Yes, perhaps they do make a pretty picture. However these flowers are choking the natural flora, destroying the native environment. Furthermore, along with cows and sheep British settlers brought Australian possums, stoats and rabbits to New Zealand, a land without mammals of any kind (except bats). Lacking natural predators these animals went forth, were fruitful and multiplied at exponential rates. They killed off the majority of exotic birds living on both the north and south islands. There are currently 60 million possums in New Zealand and about 2000 Kea birds (the only alpine parrot in the world). Prior to human arrival (including Maori to some extent) those numbers were probably reversed.

Many of the trees remind me of the American northwest but everything else makes me think of England. It's actually kind of bizarre. We're in Christchurch right now and I could be on the outskirts of London. I feel slightly nostalgic walking around this city or driving through the countryside.

What I find most amazing about New Zealand is its diverse environment. One moment I'm driving through a pseudo English countryside and the next I'm in a Jurassic jungle. I could've sworn I saw a pterodactyl swooping over the hills. A few days later we drove through dry Southern California-like mountains en route to Queenstown. At one point we passed an especially tempting field of flowers and wild grass; I nearly asked to stop the car so I could pick a posy. However we had a set itinerary which we stuck to, it didn't include much time for wandering or posy picking. So many bookstores, so little time etc.

Being with my family was rather a treat. I rarely get to see Evan nowadays. His hair is longer than my mom's – and still that amazing copper color. Damn genetics, its not fair! We are an utterly ridiculous family. Puns are pseudo mandatory (at least one per person per day), so is quoting from Monty Python and/or Lord of the Rings (preferably at the location where the movies were filmed). The first place we look for wherever we go is a bookstore and extra points if it's a used bookstore. My dad and I gleefully count road kill, argue about politics and history over dinner and get excited about live blues bands. I'm still a brat to my brother but I maintain it's good for him, keeps him humble. Mom and I chat about everything, aimlessly wander the streets and visit art museums. Dinner was my favorite time of day here, partly because of the food but mostly because of the witty and thought provoking conversations (a perfect chance to fulfill one's pun quota).

I bet I'm forgetting a million more anecdotes. I'll try to briefly re-cap the highlights: I went kayaking and saw seals, dolphins and penguins; went sky diving; practiced French with a gay Tahitian Frenchman, becoming quite enamored; got through a history of reproductive legislation in colonial and post-colonial Kenya; saw lakes of turquoise, ancient glaciers, terrifying Scottish highland bulls, and all sorts of exotic birds; and ate far too much fruit.

Love to all