Before coming to Tanzania one of the first things that people would ask me was if I planned to go on a safari. Prior to coming here I was planning on climbing Kilimanjaro and not doing a safari because honestly $500 dollars seemed like a lot just to see a few animals. I never really understood the hype of going on a real safari.

Boy, was I wrong!

We left for our safari on Friday morning and drove for a couple hours to the entrance of Lake Manyara National Park. Within the first hour of our game drive we saw a few small animals, but nothing too amusing. Lake Manyara is mostly a forested national park, so it was really hard to see the animals unless they were literally standing in front of the car. We kept stopping to talk about the trees and environment, but didn’t see anything too special. Needless to say, I was unimpressed; I paid money for this? After about an hour of driving we saw an elephant crossing the road in front of a few other safari vans. We pulled up right as it was disappearing into the forest. The other vans began to drive away, but we stayed while our driver was telling us about elephants. After a few minutes we saw the elephant coming back out of the forest, but this time he was followed by his entire herd. Next thing I knew there were about 15 elephants surrounding our car! Our driver had to continually tell us not to touch the elephants because they were so close to us! After about 30 minutes and 1,000 pictures, the elephants eventually moved on. We continued to drive through the park spotting multiple giraffes, wildebeests, gazelles, and hippos, but nothing quite topped the total engulfment of the elephant herd.

After our overnight stay in Lake Manyara, we headed to the Serengeti National Park. Being one of the most popular National Parks in all of Africa, I was excited to finally be able to visit. The Serengeti plays host to one of the biggest migrations in the world. Every year thousands of wildebeest and zebras migrate from Tanzania up to Kenya for the dry season. During our safari we were able to see the tail end of the migration. Our driver kept telling us that the number of migrating animals we saw was nothing compared to the migration at its peak, but I can’t imagine that. As we drove around looking for various animals, I was overcome by the vastness of the park. As far as you could see, there was just land. No buildings, no people, just magnificent landscapes. On our first day in the park we saw lions, elephants, leopards, hyenas, and giraffes. The leopards that we saw were a mom and her 2 babies in a tree. Our driver told us that due to leopards’ very secretive nature, that was extremely rare to see. At one point we saw at least eight lions sunbathing on top of a rock right next to the road. If they wanted to, they could have easily hopped right onto our car. At the end of the day we headed to our campsite, which was in the very center of the Serengeti. We fell asleep under the most amazing stars that I have ever seen while listening to nearby hyenas and lions prowling for food.

Our second day in the Serengeti started at 5:00 AM. After being slightly delayed by a flat tire, we were able to watch the sun rise over the park. I’m pretty sure it was a real life scene from Lion King. After the sun was up and shining, we went on a search for cheetahs. We drove all around the park until at last our driver took a sudden turn off the road (which is slightly illegal). We drove a few seconds until we saw two young cheetahs casually lying down. I have no idea how our driver knew where they would be, but it was an indescribable experience to be able to see them so close.

After seeing our cheetahs, we were getting pretty tired of seeing so many zebras and wildebeests, so we left for Ngorongoro Crater. That night we camped on the rim of the crater and overlooked the valley. As we were eating our dinner an elephant waltzed through our campsite, and as we were going to sleep we could see zebras grazing next to our tents. The next day started once again at 5:00 AM. No one ever tells you how cold a safari can be, but let me tell you: it was freezing! After bundling up in many layers we set off to find what treasures awaited us in Ngorongoro. After descending into the crater and watching yet another beautiful sunrise, we immediately spotted one of the few rhinos in Tanzania. The pictures did not do this crater justice. With the sun rising over the mountains, the rhino grazing in the morning grass, a pair of elephants starting their morning trek, and the sky reflecting in the lake, no camera could capture the moment. The rest of the day consisted of driving through the crater, seeing lions, spotting elephants, looking at the massive amount of flamingos in the lake, and singing Lion King.

However, all good things must come to an end. As the day wore on, we were forced to pack up and head to Arusha. Needless to say, my four-day safari was an experience that I will never forget and always treasure.

-Jake

As many of you know by now, my adventure in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia had to be cut short. There were several contributing factors that drove me to ultimately make this decision.

The first of these was political. I arrived in Addis about a week before the Ethiopian election. During my preparation process for this journey, I was aware of the impending election, but not some of its implications. The days leading up to the election, the tension in the city was palpable. The citizens were clearly reserved and not their usual friendly selves while the expats were on their way out of the country for this sensitive time. The most obvious sign was the increase in police and soldiers in the streets. This was due to ongoing threats of riots, protests, and attacks in the event that the election is rigged. This political factor caused a very unsettling first week alone in a foreign country.

The next contributing factor was organizational. Most of my previous experience with Women at Risk had been working with Cherry and Wonde. Cherry is the founder of Women at Risk and Wonde is a lead counselor. However, a few weeks before my expected departure to Ethiopia, I found out that Wonde was on sabbatical, indefinitely, and Cherry would be leaving Ethiopia about a week after I arrived. Wonde had worked very hard for Women at Risk for a long time and was certainly deserving of a break. Cherry was leaving Ethiopia to go to Canada for the summer and spend time with her husband’s family. Both of these circumstances were completely understandable, however had a significant impact on the amount of value I would be able to add for this organization. Their departures left a void in the organization of who I would be reporting to as well as created a significant language gap between myself and the rest of the employees at Women at Risk. This was a very unfortunate circumstance because I knew I wouldn’t be able to accomplish what I set out to do without the proper support from the organization.

The final reason for my early return was personal. Because of some last minute changes by the family that was supposed to host me, I stayed at what is referred to as a “pension”.  This is a type of room that is typically rented by the hour and was located in the red light district of Addis. Bordering this pension was an alley filled with bars. These bars were playing music very loudly from 9pm until 6 or 7am, nightly. Combine this with the jetlag that I was trying to overcome, and the mental fatigue set in, hard.

Although there were many that forced me to return, I was still able to accomplish some of what I had hoped to do while I was there. The inventory system that I had helped set up while I was there in October had been running well but hit a snag. After consulting some of my Enactus teammates back in the U.S., we were able to alleviate the inventory issues and conduct business as usual.

The other useful foundation that I was able to lay while I was there was in development of the domestic market for Ellilta Products. Originally I thought that I would be able to go in and open up distribution channels for EP by selling scarves in the local hotels and airport. However, upon arrival, I learned about how difficult a process that actually was and that, despite Ellilta’s best effort to make that happen, couldn’t happen. However, this allowed a new discussion to begin in regards to marketing. If we can’t get the products into these shops, why don’t we try to bring more tourists/consumers to Ellilta’s facility/store? This was something the sales team at Ellilta had thought about doing, but didn’t know how to go about it. I was able to help put this team in the mind of a foreigner, and where a tourist would look if they wanted to purchase traditional handmade goods in Ethiopia. This is an ongoing process that I hope to support from the U.S. for the remainder of the summer until I hand the project back over to the team at Belmont in August.

Overall, this was still an incredibly positive experience for me and I’m thankful that I was able to do it. There were some significant unforeseen obstacles that I encountered these past few weeks. I also wasn’t able to stay in Ethiopia as long as I had originally planned. However, I still able to serve this organization in some capacity and strengthen the relationship between EWAR/EP and Belmont Enactus. I also find value in the fact that upon graduation, instead of concerning myself with finding the highest salary I could and rushing into a career, I was able to do something that was important to me. Also, I was able to make a great friend while I was there, Mente Tsegaye, an accountant at Ellilta, who I hope to keep in touch with through Facebook, emails, and ongoing work with Ellilta Products.

My friend Mente

Nelson Mandela delivered a speech on the eve of his 90th birthday declaring, “it is in your hands now.” The United Nations officially declared Mandela’s birthday, July 18th, as a national holiday in South Africa that honors his dedication to the service of humanity. I have the privilege of working alongside the team at JAM International to develop events for Mandela Day this year. I cannot fathom my excitement for the events we are organizing (or should i write organising with an s because as our writer at JAM would say to me, “Americans can’t spell.”) I don’t want to give away any hints to the content, but I can assure you that it is going to be big! Follow Joint Aid Management- International on Facebook as we begin to share content.

Creative planning for these Mandela Day events has consisted of conceptualizing creative content for a social media campaign, sending it to a designer, getting the content approved, and implementing the content into a creative schedule. Logistics planning consists of finding venues in cities completely foreign to me, discerning which places will have the highest traffic, booking these venues, and organizing teams and entertainment for the day of the event. I am having so much fun with this!

I am also very excited to be bringing my passion for music into this workspace. This week, I have organized meetings with South African musicians to come learn about JAM and begin brainstorming how we can use music as a mechanism for social change in this country.

My sweet friend Samuel in Cape Town and I were able to brainstorm together early this week on a project to honor Mandela’s legacy and partner with JAM. I could not be more excited to share the final product with you! Samuel is a musician that shares his music and covers on Youtube. You can check his videos out here: Samuel Music.

I had the privilege of meeting with the kind and humble Nhalnhla Majozi (pictured above.) We captured his reaction to the work JAM is doing and he shared a bit of his personal story. I can not wait to share this content. It was truly so raw and powerful! Major and I also got to bond over our favorite lines from The Office and New Girl. What a cool guy! Here’s one of Majozi’s music videos: Majozi-Fire

I also got to catch up with an old pal, Ruan Kruger who co owns Station Coffee Co., teaches music, and is in multiple successful Afrikaans bands in South Africa. This guy radiates joy! If you’re ever in Potchefstroom, South Africa you need to visit his coffee shop, because that coffee is seriously next level. Better yet, they partner with socially responsible products to have a mission centered business. Ruan & I also bonded over our love for superheroes. With his entrepreneurial mind and creative energy, we walked away with so much inspiration! Social Entrepreneur-Superheros unite! Check out his band here: Moses Metro Man -Mooirivier

I am looking forward to this weekend. I will be attending Neighbour Goods market in the heart of Johannesburg with our new graphic designer, Chane. She is a star! We will also be exploring some vinyl shops as her husband is a collector. On Sunday, my pal Mischa and I are going to watch Matthew Mole & Shortstraw play a gig at the Walter Sisulu Botanical Gardens. These are some artists I connected with last time I was in South Africa. I will report back to you with footage!

I’m also having my friend Daniel teach me an Afrikaans phrase everyday. So today, I leave you with this:

“jy mooi kyk vandag,” which means, “You look beautiful today.”

With love,

Morgan

“Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.”

In Kenya, a sudden rainfall indicates a blessing. As the WISER students and faculty were welcoming us, rain suddenly fell around us. A blessing.

I am here in Muhuru Bay, Kenya. I am lying beneath a tree and looking at Lake Victoria as I write. It has been difficult for me to write this first post as my mind has been in constant motion since I boarded my plane in Nashville over a week ago. After a twenty-four-hour flight schedule and a short night of rest in Nairobi, our group headed west. Our first stop was at Kazuri Beads. “Kazuri,” which means small and beautiful in Swahili, is a social enterprise to empower single mothers in the villages surrounding Nairobi. The women create the beads, paint the beads, and assemble various pieces of jewelry—leaving each piece unique. This picture is of the entire group outside of the Kazuri shop.

(Side note: the group from Duke is amazing and has been nothing but welcoming to me as the only non-Duke student. This is my shout-out of thanks and appreciation to all my new Duke friends.)

We made a short stop at an overlook of the Great Rift Valley before making it to Kisii, Kenya. In Kisii we learned about Kisii soapstone carving and were able to see the entire process—from the ground to, to the hands of carvers, to the shelves of shops.

Each of these stops were important, but nothing has been as important as entering the gates of WISER. It is impossible to express what I have felt and learned in a matter of days. To simplify my tangled web of thoughts, I will just introduce you to a new friend and sister. At WISER the girls are assigned to Houses of Wisdom—there are eight houses with fifteen girls in each house. Each house has girls from each grade. In Kenya grades are called “forms.” They live together, eat together, and compete in sports and academics together. The houses become their families here at WISER. I was assigned to the Mirror House. This house is called “Mirror” because the girls reflect their goodness in school and in character. During my first lunch with the Mirror House, I sat down beside Esther.

Meet Esther. 

Esther is in Form 2 (her second year of secondary school). We immediately shared with each other our interests and about our families. She is one of five sisters. (We empathized over wishing we had a brother, but both understood the love that can only be shared between sisters.) She explained that I am now a sister of the Mirror House. Her explanation of “Mirror” was this: “We do not keep things inside. We reflect them out. For example, we do not keep love in, we reflect it out to share.” Esther plays volleyball and her favorite subjects are math and languages. After secondary school she wants to go to university and become a lawyer. Luckily, I spent Monday shadowing the Form 2 students for an entire day. I was able to see Esther shine in her classes—she works hard, participates, and actively helped me in Kiswahili class. (Which I needed all the help I could get!)

Esther gave me permission to share her photo and share about our new friendship. I will continue to share stories about new friends as my time here continues. Please read more about WISER and contribute to their work by supporting their programs.

Oriti (“Goodbye” in Luo)

Filming in the landscape is such a different experience – being able to now that the weather is much better, and finding myself in more rural and hard to reach towns. I am seeing how ways of thinking/living in communities are different in the city as compared to the in rural Iceland. Even in Reykjavik at SIM I often feel far away from the city, where our windows face the sea and the neighborhood around keeps quiet, far from the happenings of the town, the schedules it keeps, the tourists it welcomes.

Yesterday Iceland celebrated 100 years since the women’s suffragette movement began in Iceland. I made it downtown for the festivities – it was a massive day full of events to commemorate the occasion, even while the topic is being celebrated in various other ways throughout the year. The streets were filled with signs, choirs, balloons; the former female president of Iceland gave a moving speech, followed by crowds even larger than those I saw on the Icelandic National Day joining in with the choirs singing protest songs – and I was incredibly moved to see such a demonstration of dedication to women’s rights organized in great part by a nation’s own government. Iceland was one of the first countries in the world to give women the right to vote, is now considered one of the most progressive in terms of gender equality, and this day further reinforces my awe at how much people care here about one another, how far from complacent the national attitude is here regarding social issues. At the end of the speeches and songs, a group from the nurses union moved to the stage constructed in front of the city hall and were met with cheers as they continued to lead the crowd in song – the entire display was of course in Icelandic, but I did not need to know all the words to understand the impact of the scene.

One of the last big pieces I am working on here is a performance/video piece regarding the history of women’s treatment in Iceland, how times have changed here, how there might be certain things we from various nationalities can learn from this history, these traditions, these people. Women’s rights has been a major topic of conversation in this place since I have been here, one I have been honored to contribute to and learn from in some way.

And, in light of recent events happening in my home country right now, I can’t help but feel both a little sadness and hopefulness regarding the progress of social movements in cultures the world over, even if not especially in those places we take it for granted or do not realize how much change we still need in our respective societies and the global one. In Iceland, it is the people who have made social change – who have changed attitudes in here – I saw plenty of men in the audience at the rallies today – even for those groups who do not see how they are affected by it.

Tourism here has surged in recent years not only because more people are finding out about how beautiful this country is – but intentionally out of economic need. But the image tourists find of Iceland is not always the actuality of this place and these people. Sure, Iceland is statistically one of the happiest countries in the world (however one measures such a thing) but its past is not perfect, and its people are not wholly carefree but conscious and serious about their passions. Few people actually believe in elves, eat fermented shark, or maintain cultural stereotypes depicted by some board of tourism. This is as nuanced a culture and history as any.

As I have said before it is amazing to see how art plays a role in the social sphere here – I can’t think of a holiday I’ve witnessed here (and Iceland has many holidays) that has not been accompanied by some presentation of sculpture, music, or performance by working Icelandic artists. The art market here is not particularly wealthy, yet it is fueled by people very passionate about making things and enriching culture – because they love it, and because they understand its societal benefit – regardless of the financial aspect. And they take it seriously. Even my hairstylist here had to study 5 years to work in a salon, and she considers it her art.

One of my favorite museums here is a place called the Culture House where the rooms are not curated chronologically, but thematically. One finds famous photographs by Olafur Elliasson next to illuminated manuscripts and post cards – each put in context to comment on some aspect of human nature and overarching themes in Icelandic history. As I see the visual expressions of history in the various holidays here, and also in my own projects (which are focusing more and more on addressing Iceland’s tumultuous history hidden in landscape) I am learning much about art as a means for teaching history; understanding facts in new ways, understanding the trajectory of history as not just dates and events and leaders, but waves of traditions and ways of living building society together. Creating in the context of a foreign culture is an invaluable way of learning about societal trends and how they are expressed by the people who are most affected by them. I think about my own modern experience of visual anthropology – the images I have come to associate with my time here, which have become embedded in my daily life, which will change when I leave in the next few weeks.

I’ve been working on a series of videos about merging traditions, finding myself inside the history here and the statements Iceland might make to the world – trying to use myself as a vehicle for communication, shedding light, beyond Iceland’s tourism identity to the truths beneath. Attempting to speak to the history embedded in the landscape that is not so well known – or even suspected in such a seemingly innocent place. But that’s just it – just the way the landscape shifts dramatically over time, so the culture, so the people, and the different in people now seems such a polar opposite reality to Iceland’s more violent Viking origins, and the brutal laws enforced during the Middle Ages.

Iceland is living proof of the dramatic ways a culture can change – even into one of the most socially progressive countries from a notably dark past. One feels the imprint of tradition here, but few of its rough edges. Perhaps an understanding of the possibilities of creating real change stems from the Icelandic respect for the landscape and its constantly changing surfaces, perhaps it is the dark months that give the people here opportunities to spend hours inside studying and contemplating the world and their places in it.

A few days ago was the Icelandic National Day celebration, honoring the nations separation from Denmark in 1944 – and the day coincided a number of protests arranged to address the recent strikes (notably the nurses strike which has been driving =Iceland’s healthcare professionals to other countries to find better wages – a topic that has found its way into global news). Iceland has overthrown their government before, and could very likely do so again very soon – has driven out other regimes, changed their society countless times from the Viking age on.

And to think its first settlers are believed to be Celtic monks seeking solace in the landscape – a landscape at once so peaceful and so volatile, a landscape that seems to envelope, supersede, and somehow then redeem the violence of both man and nature – volcanoes turned to majestic peaks, ancient sites of executions during the Middle Ages now preserved in beautiful national parks.

Looking at what I’ve written so far, I’ve realized that, while I have covered big life concepts while talking about everything, I haven’t covered very well how I am doing and what I am learning throughout all of this. That is, I have written a lot about the work that I am doing, but I haven’t yet been able to cover very well how I am maturing as a person. Thus, if this is to be a true travel blog, I must also cover how I am growing! In short, like a sprout. In long, like the way that I like to write. I say we take the long route, because it’s more fun.

Before really starting, I think it is important to reiterate that the amount that I have learned and grown already, if it were to all be written down, would probably fill a big book with big pages, tiny margins, and even tinnier font. Actually, it would probably fill a 32 volume encyclopedia, especially the way that I write. Sadly, I’m pretty much the only person I know who reads encyclopedias for fun. I mean, I’m OK with that: that just means that there are more weird people out there that I haven’t met yet, which brings an anticipation and excitement to life that paints it in color. In color, like every single building in Europe. In fact, I have seen more clash here than in a medieval war zone and a jousting match combined. Color mania. I see now why Europeans stereotypically wear loud colors: that’s what they know. Those are the colors which painted their childhood and later their adult world. But style as well though. More people dress like hipsters here than at Belmont, which I thought was pretty impressive. I walked into the mall, and the merchandise was all on the Bruin Incoming Freshman Checklist of things to wear. The style was duly noted and appreciated. Speaking of style however, let’s check out the buildings though. The architecture speaks to me, especially after studying many of its themes with the illustrious Dr. Byrne at Belmont. I have formed so many opinions on it and seen so many beautiful and unique structures that I’m not even going to try to cover it. But there is something very interesting which can be seen in a lot of the buildings right now: they are literally falling apart. In Romania, the most popular building style is plastering. For those of who are lost, think the texture, feel, and look of the White House. It’s probably different from your house because Americans aren’t about that life. Well, in Romania, most everything is plastered up. Only the really modern buildings usually are not. That helps to give it it’s old, European feel, but it also means that after a certain period of time, the walls start chunking off if not well preserved, leading to warning signs and nets on some of the buildings. „Watch out for falling pieces of WALL!” Really puts a spring in your step and the fear of God in your heart when you walk in front of a church like that. But it’s not just some of the churches: it’s a large percentage of the buildings. That was one of the things that surprised me the most when coming here. I knew the food, the language, the culture to a large extent, the way that people are here, most of the rules, social and otherwise, and so on and so forth, but when coming from the well-manicured, glassy glory of modern American architecture to the depth and weight and history of classical European structures, I was surprised that so many of the buildings, even in the middle of the city, were not well preserved and thus things looked old and torn down sometimes. The problem comes from the fact that the Romania is still recovering from communism. Believe it or not, communism is an architectural style here, and outside of the Romanian Parliament building in Bucuresti, it pretty much is strongly disliked by all. “That building looks really communist” is actually considered to be a technical term by many. There is a certain heavy style to it that your eyes can pick out after a period of time. Something else I’ve picked out though, is the mentality of many people here during this recovery period. Things aren’t going super-great. People have to cut a budget. Where do they cut it? Not the electric bill or water bill: maintenance. And thus we have not-America.

Welcome to the rest of the world. I have realized since coming to Romania that I have had a lot of preconceived notions about life in general. There were just so many things that I took for granted growing up in America. I can’t begin to count the things that are different simply because it’s not America. If you look at an upcoming sentence ask why, the answer is “It’s not America.” I had to pay a tax to go to the bathroom and pay extra if I wanted toilet paper. If it’s not curvy, it’s not a road. Built like a Jeep matters in Romania. People are good drivers here, probably because they are required to pay attention here. People don’t nod or say hi to each other as they walk past each other, maybe just because it isn’t the American South. Everyone walks, bikes, or uses public transportation. There is doing something in real-time and then there is doing it in Romanian time. And Romanian time includes calling four friends about it, making seven connections, not planning anything, asking people for directions along the way, stopping to see family along the way, making sandwiches for the road, buying water because oftentimes the AC depends upon your ability to roll down the window and water fountains are not necessary in public spaces, packing vegetables, bringing a present when you go, and being chill about your community-centered way of life and the adventure which is every day. Roads, buildings, stores, and pretty much anything doesn’t need a big and loud label and sign. The roads aren’t necessarily planned before or together with the buildings, even on new constructions. If you want to live somewhere that has a paved, drivably wide road to it, you have to pay extra. Water fountains should be modeled after Old Faithful. The metric system (expected that one). Government and religion together are not taboo (Oradea has a part of the taxes paid budgeted to go to the furthering of religion and religious activities). There doesn’t have to be a toilet, for the toilet to be a toilet (some of you will understand what I mean). When there is a toilet, it can be as small as economy permits. Girls and guys don’t have to wash their hands in separate areas. Sparkling water should cost as much as normal water, and if you ask for water, you need to specify if you desire non-sparkling water. Things written in English don’t have to be written correctly grammatically. Romanian subtitles. No need for a dryer if you have a balcony. You don’t buy phones on phone plans, because phone plans are rare, because people use SIM cards to keep track of their minutes and they are charged based on the minutes used. So, put away your iPhone because you might be either foreign or rich or way too concerned about your image if you have one, because buying an iPhone outright is more expensive than you would think. People can usually tell when someone is foreign. You might have to pay someone a bit extra to do something right. Large percentages of people buy food at public markets. You know everyone at the market on a first-name basis. The sidewalk was meant to serve as the parking lot, actually. There might be a roundabout instead of a spotlight because it is better for European traffic. 4-way stops are no fun: pick another number if possible. If you can’t walk, you take public transportation. If you can’t take public transportation, you’ll bike or phone the family. If the family can’t take you, you phone a friend. If your friends can’t take you, you’ll call to see if anyone you know knows anyone they know that is going there during a certain time period. If that doesn’t work out, you probably won’t go. You might take the train instead of driving from one city to the next. There are anti-begging signs put up by the city. Every city probably has a statue in honor of Romulus and Remus. You might be up-to-date with the current politics of the area by the time you arrive where you are staying, coming from the airport. State-funded, under-funded orphanages. Your country still has a living king who has a heir and the country is yet seriously considering becoming a monarchy and not staying a democratic state. You might not have ever heard of 73% of the car companies whose products just drove past you. If McDonalds has a classic Romanian food Mcified on their menu... If you pay 25 cents for a desert two times bigger and ten times better than what you might find at Panera... If people have never before heard anything negative said about Obama, but can quote great American scandals off the top of their head... If people know the exchange rate for five different currencies off the top of their head... If you find out that people got the history wrong for the Bran (Dracula’s) Castle because historians think that Vlad (Dracula) Tepes probably didn’t even live there and definitely didn’t have any significant impact on the history of the fortress... If people make jokes about Americans only knowing one language... I mean, I’m 100% sure that no one reading this that has only lived in America all of their life can even being to imagine what life is like in not-America. It’s-not-America is a reason for things when you are not in America.

Turns out, America is not the norm in this world. It comes as a shock to some, and although it wasn’t a shock to me, because I expected it, I’ve pretty much rethought my whole life through the lens of not-America and I’ve grown a lot because of that. I have listed what may seem like a lot of superficial things there, but because I’m the kind of person who never goes out of deep thought/analysis mode, I can say that the way that I see the world has truly been changed and that I have seen the reality behind what I before took on belief. More than that, I have had to live the reality behind my belief and prove it every day. I used to believe that the meaningless is meaningful when it comes to relationships. Now, I’ve seen it, that the little things, maybe even the irrelevant things, make the biggest difference to people. Spending time with them, having fun with them, joking around, just doing life with someone is huge. I’ve seen it with children; I’ve seen it with adults. I used to believe that working hard and doing your best, especially having a good attitude about it, results in people respecting you and liking you, but I’ve never seen that before like I did doing manual labor here in Romania with the fellas. I worked with one guy one day, and he wasn’t even necessarily that open of a guy, but by the end of the day, we were buds, just doing construction work together. I used to believe that people who were in need were thankful when they received help. Now I’ve seen it like never before. I used to believe that systematic racism could be overcome. I never had that problem in America. But now, I’ve seen it happen. I used to believe that most of the problems that children have are directly associated with their desire to be loved. I’ve never seen it before like I have now. I used to believe that the material wasn’t necessary for happiness. Easy to say when your entire country is among the richest ten percent of the world’s population. Now, I’ve seen that first hand, now I’ve lived that. I used to think that family was more important than anything else in this world. Now, being with them all, I’ve seen that in a way that I never have before. I used to believe that hearing people out was 100% more important than speaking, but after some of the things that I have heard just listening here in Romania, I now have felt the truth in that. I used to think that being the servant, you would become the leader. I have never seen that like I have serving people here in Romania; the way that people respond and the respect given is shocking. I used to believe that people are the same everywhere. Now I know. I used to believe that children are the same everywhere and in every situation in life. Now I know. I used to believe that not feeling like my opinion was needed was good. Then, I talk to old people and realize they have their needs and desires too, I see myself in their place, I realize what old people are like, I realize more fully what old age is like, and I grow to have compassion and love towards them to an extent that I never have before, and now I know. I used to believe that being vulnerable first in relationships was hugely important. Now I know. I used to believe that respecting the culture was huge. Now I know. I used to believe that I could learn a lot from children. Now I know.

So many beliefs and so much faith have been required, but now my faith has become sight, proved in my very experience, which is a beautiful thing. I have a worldview and an understanding of the world based on all of this, but I was wearing third-culture-kid glasses, and Romanian glasses have proved simply to throw a different tone upon everything, increasing the color and definition in which I see that worldview. It’s like zooming in on the details and learning to appreciate every one of them after taking a broad view and understanding the detail’s place within the greater structure. There is an increased depth and I am truly getting to understand what I believe, who I am, and what the world is like much, much more. Maybe my observations have seemed chaotic and maybe my choices of the numerous beliefs which I have seen shown in reality have seemed at random, but each one of them represents a story that impacted my life, that helped me to understand myself and the world around me better. I’m simply choosing to point out a few large strokes and overarching themes that play a important role in the masterpiece being painted on my heart. The purpose of all of this may not be immediately evident, but it is just so that you can see me as I am, with small numbers of large paragraphs, seemingly random observations, and threads of deep thought woven into it. There are some experiences that are not very easily packaged, categorized, and organized and my trip is one of those. What may seem meaningless if viewed from the detail perspective becomes incredibly meaningful when viewed from afar.

Such as the camp that the Charis Center hosted for the orphans at Caminul Felix on Saturday. I worked for a good part of the week on the most central structure of the whole camp, whether as a blacksmith, a painter, or just a regular construction worker, which was the open-air roofed structure that you’ll see in the pictures. Doing construction work is not extremely glorious and may not seem like it is huge. Holding a camp for children may not seem like a big deal or like it would have a big impact on the children. Some might be tempted to wonder what the point is, but I guarantee if you ask those orphan children what the highlight of their summer was, they’ll excitedly overwhelm you in their cute Romanian telling you about this camp. An adult might view this part of my project and wonder what the point of the camp is if the kids aren’t learning more English or „doing something useful” whereas a child would view this as the best thing ever. I get the best job ever: doing both, because of the beautiful balance which causes the meaningless to become meaningful. It was so amazing though, getting to see my work with the children at Caminul Felix come together with my work at the Center in a way that further both of their missions, and consequently, mine as well. That’s what my project is all about: helping the whole person, not just the brain or just the heart, because last time I checked, you need both of them. That’s how I’m learning to see: with both my head and my heart, and it just floors me. Talk about Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. So, you people love pictures right? PICTURES!!!!!!!!!

Until next time! 🙂

~David Gal-Chis

The past couple weeks has been full of crazy adventures and uniquely Icelandic experiences (which I will break into a few posts – internet has been harder to come by lately so I will post in the order I have written them!).

It feels strange to be so close to leaving now, strange to feel the quiet stillness that has pervaded my time here in the colder months slowly change as I finish up projects I am making in the landscape (which require a bit of travel) and all the other things I have to get done before leaving.

With summer, it is a new experience to suddenly able to reach areas in the Icelandic interior that are for so much of the year inaccessible. Laugarvatn is quiet, and so I have been breaking up my time between exploring such remote places and working some at SIM back in Reykjavik where there seems to be more and more to contribute to in terms of art events and collaboration. Recently, I booked a car with a friend I met last month from SIM who is also still in Iceland now, and we explored some areas in the highlands near Laugarvatn and the Golden Circle, and shot some video for some of our respective projects. That area is steeped in the most ancient recorded events in Iceland’s history: the parliament that met in the region, the remnants of Viking settlements still being excavated – history still shaping Icelandic culture today and embedded in the visual anthropology of the nation. One of these settlements was seated in the middle of a vast volcanic desert with dark cones rising against the treeless horizon; we rolled through the landscape for a mile or so towards the main road till we came upon one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, one of the surprises Iceland keeps throwing my way. I had read briefly about the Gjain valley in the Thjorsardalur region – but no pictures I had seen compared to the experience of suddenly finding a cleft in the rocky terrain opening onto a lush green utopia that seemed straight out of a Tolkien novel. My friend and I wordless looked at one another and ecstatically ran down over a path in the sudden cliffside and into a hidden world of waterfalls, basalt caves, and dark streams, wishing we could live in such a place for ever (later finding the area was indeed once part of the nearby Viking village).

We eventually left, I uncertain I would ever be satisfied with any other place again, but as always we came upon other fantastic sites, beautiful in other ways (though still something special about Gjain seemed to color the remainder of the trip). In the event of the midnight sun that prevents it from ever being truly dark here anymore, we decided to make a midnight pilgrimage to the Geysir before heading home, still plenty of light ahead of us.

The next day I went out alone to continue collecting video for a project, one I suppose one could describe as trying to find the darkness in the now perpetually light – a reversal of my experience in cold and stormy April. I had a 4×4 vehicle for the two days, and so decided to venture out to places I could only access with such. The object of my trek for the day was a hidden plane wreck in the south, in the middle of a region called the Sandar where all one can see for miles is black ash sand and dense fog – especially that day, much rainier and foggier than the day before it. This place was the opposite of Gjain – I turned off the roadside into a barely marked path through the sand, trusting the tiny yellow markers that emerged out of the fog every few feet until the plane emerged from the mist – an event I imagined happened on a day similar to this. The famous 1973 crash was actually a U.S. Naval plane, no one was hurt, but the cause of the crash is still steeped in mystery and suspicion. The sight was terrifying but also awe inspiring, the chaotic rush of the sea barely in view behind the wreckage, and nothing else. Reminders that Iceland still has plenty of haunting beauty as much as it seems calm and majestic on the surface – in the easily accessible places.

Gjain Valley (Hobbiton)

Haifoss in Thjorsdalur

1973 U.S. Navy plane wreckage, Solheimasandur

And on a completely separate note, here’s a link to my video from last month – finally online!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k5DD6lOB7XE