Category Archives: Photos

Tiny Wurm, Big World

Jul 15, 2019

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Welcome to my very first blog!

I am slowly learning how to put the stories, ideas, and thoughts I encounter into words for you to not only read, but to experience for yourself. I am honored that you are willing to take a moment of your own life to read about mine through a smudged laptop screen, big, ol’ desktop, or whatever your viewing screen of choice happens to be.

Well, I am moving to India.

Who would’ve thought? Not my parents.

Well, perhaps... I assume they knew that this was coming before I broke the news to them, but to you all this move overseas may raise some questions. Allow me to share where this all began.

I initially felt a tug on my heart to visit India about 2 years ago.

May of 2017 to be exact.

As most dreams do, it began as a small seed in the back of my mind. I slowly began to water the thought of India with books and conversations and prayers and movies and anything else within my reach, and before I knew it, I had a full grown tree of thought taking root in not only my mind, but also in my heart.

The obsession with this place spilled over into a deep love for the culture and people of India.

I visited twice in early 2018, and shortly after my trips, I felt a new small seed being planted in my head to move there.

Taken during my second visit to India. A moment where I felt tiny, tiny, tiny.

Fast forward a year and here we are!

After many early morning interviews, long-distance phone call meetings, financial confusions and a few teary-eyed (okay ugly weeping) kitchen breakdowns, I can finally recognize the purpose interwoven in all the moments that led me to right here.

You will hear so much more about this in the coming months, but in just a few short weeks I begin a communications internship with International Justice Mission on the west coast of India.

In somewhat of a short (okay medium to long) version, IJM is a non-profit organization composed of Christian attorneys, social workers, criminal investigators, and support staff. IJM carefully investigates situations of abuse and partners with local officials to free victims from their immediate situations of

danger. After the victims have been freed, IJM seeks to address the root of the problem by prosecuting the perpetrators in local court systems and empowering communities to make structural changes that can prevent such abuses in the future. IJM also works with aftercare providers to help the newly freed victims adjust to a life that is very different from their past oppressive experiences.

Check out their website for more information (www.ijm.org).

In early June, I flew to DC for a pre-departure orientation with 79 other IJM interns.

IJM’s headquarters sit on the outskirts of the surprisingly sweet DC area, and the 5 days spent within the walls of the organization, shaking hands of those whom I’d only met over email, praying alongside current employees, filling notepads with the kind of information that sets your soul on fire...those 5 days represent just a small seed of what this year has the potential of growing into. I sat wide-eyed in front of each speaker as they shared about their specific area of expertise within the organization from technology to fundraising, and from cultural immersion to international team building. I learned more about the heart of IJM, absorbed the stories that the organization is founded on, and held back tears as I heard about all that the IJM team plans to accomplish in the years to come.

The best part is that IJM’s story, team, and mission exceed me.

This year will break far beyond the walls of my own mind, as I hope to share with you, and anyone who is willing to listen, the stories of rescue and victory and renewal.

I used to say the phrase, “tiny wurm, big world,” whenever I saw something or visited somewhere that made me feel small in the best possible way.

Looking out at the mountain, the ocean, the waterfall, or the sunset, and being filled with some sort of ‘this is what life is about’ feeling. The tears forming in the corner of your eyes and your heart lifting as though it had just exhaled for the first time in years. The Creator has a way of revealing the most extravagant gifts of the world to us in a way more personal than we could ever describe.

I have a feeling this next year is going to be a lot of those, “tiny wurm, big world,” moments. Perhaps a beautiful sunset or a breathtaking view, or maybe even the feeling I’ll get when I first figure out how to do laundry in India.

Whatever it is, I look forward to sharing that moment with you.

a good photo reference for when someone says they have “laundry for days..” Taken on my second trip to India.

– kate

Some Important Information

Jun 10, 2019

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Today’s blog is less of a personal account and more informational; however, I still find it unduly necessary for understanding Nepal and my journey across its diverse landscape. These are details to keep in mind when reading my future posts. Whether it be my struggles in documenting everything, observations of Nepali people, or the conditions I faced during the trek—all of things are helpful for better visualization and connection with my story.

Difficulty Capturing the Experience
During my time in the Everest area, commonly referred to as the Khumbu Region, our team had much ground to cover. With treks that lasted anywhere from 5 to 10 hours per day, there was little time for rest. As a result, it was difficult to shoot photography, do research, and collect first-hand accounts from locals—all while in transit. My work had to be done in passing. Because of this, many of my photos were not taken with near the careful consideration I normally prefer. If they had been, the trek might have taken me twice as long. In addition, by the time we made it to our destination each night, exhaustion had so overtaken my body, I would often fall asleep while journaling and recording the day’s events. This cycle of sleeping in a new bed each night, always on the move—and simultaneously trying to gain an accurate understanding of Nepal—was extraordinarily draining. Adventure, when done right, is difficult to document in real time. That is much of why my accounts are in retrospect.

Reserved Culture
I also learned that many of the Nepali people, particularly in the foothills of the Himalayas, are quite reserved. They typically prefer not to have their photo taken. Out of respect, I normally asked permission. Unfortunately, they often declined. One the most disappointing examples of this was missing out on beautiful photo of a Buddhist monk, his face full of rich age and character, as he was artfully painting a large rock with the traditional Buddhist mantra Om mani padme hum. As soon as I pulled out my camera, he smiled, shook his head no, and waved his hand. I politely obliged, but inside I was disappointed not to be able to share this gorgeous scene.

A glimpse of a Buddhist monk as he walks home from his monastery in the small Sherpa village of Phortse.

An example of the rock paintings done by many of the Buddhist monks. All of them repeat the same mantra “Om mani padme hum.”

Photography Challenges
There were many other situations where, as a photographer, accurately capturing the moment was simply impossible. Whether it was the hazy humid skies preventing clear mountain views, the afternoon clouds concealing any sight of the stars, or the logistical nightmare of the wrong lens at the wrong time, I missed many great shots. At one point, I spotted a magnificent mountain goat, standing upon a rocky pinnacle that overlooked a 500 foot drop into the valley below. It was a picturesque moment in the midst of our trek. The only downside was that it was about 50 feet away, requiring me to switch to a longer lens. But with it already being noontime and about 10 miles of trekking ahead of us, I couldn’t hold up the team by changing out my equipment to capture the image. Not to mention, in the time it would have taken to remove my lens from my large stuffed pack, change it out with the smaller lens, and be ready to shoot, the goat likely would have moved from its spot. I had to be content with the equipment available in the moment — thus is the nature of documentary style photography.

Needless to say, wearing the hat of trekker, student, and photographer all at the same time was quite difficult. In the chaos of dusty, steep, and exhausting hikes, I did my best to capture the scenery. Where I have photos, I will share them. Where I have bad photos, I will still share them if important to the story. And where I have no photos at all, I will use words to attempt at painting a mental picture.

A mountain goat looks over the great Himalayan landscape. Unfortunately, I did not have the correct lens on to capture this moment as well as I might prefer.

Weather in Nepal
Many people have asked about how cold or difficult the weather is in the Himalayas. Of course, closer to Everest, the mountains tend to produce their own unique weather patterns. Temperatures can become quite extreme, dipping down into the teens during summer nights. However, for the majority of my journey, the weather was rather cooperative.

Because of its geographic location, Nepal’s winters and summers operate more as rainy and dry seasons. From September until May is the dry season, when rain is unusual, and vegetation subsides as the cold approaches. Spring and Autumn temperatures are quite cool during the day (60°F or so), but by January, they regularly dip down below freezing at night.

From June until August, Nepal experiences what is called the “monsoon season.” This is when temperatures are significantly higher and it rains just about every day—fantastic for agriculture but rather difficult for trekking. For this reason, these months tend to be the off-season for tourism in the Khumbu Region, as few trekkers care for the heat and rain.

Most of our weather was clear and sunny, making for beautiful treks!

Fortunately, I chose a great time of year for my journey. With May coming to a close, Nepal was at the tail end of its dry season. As a result, we got the benefits of the summer temperatures without the downside of the monsoon rain. Our temperatures were fairly high (up to 70°F during the day and 30°F at night) and the heavy rainfall had not yet hit. Our team was very lucky to experience consistently sunny and beautiful days. However, these beautiful days were not without their struggles. The sunlight above 10,000 feet of elevation can be brutal while trekking and the lack of rain meant extremely dusty trails. Many of us had to shield our eyes and faces from the dust, while using copious amounts of sunscreen to protect from potentially severe burns. Not to mention, the higher we climbed, the colder and windier the weather became. For this reason, I had to pack for two climates—the hot and dry days nearer to Lukla, as well as the cold and sometimes snowy days toward Everest Base Camp. Needless to say, while much better than the rainy summer or frigid winter we might otherwise experience, the springtime weather certainly brought its own challenges.

Regions of Nepal
In order to gain a better picture of Nepal’s social climate, it is important to highlight the countries divisions. The whole of Nepal can be effectively split into three regions—the Terai, the Hills, and the Himalayas. While these distinctions are geographical, they equally serve as social and religious boundaries.

1) The Himalayas
The Himalayas are the northernmost region, bordering Tibet. Far less populated and harder to reach, they are home to scattered people groups in small villages living largely agrarian lifestyles. Much of religious and cultural life in the Himalayas is shaped by Tibet. Across the mountains are numerous Buddhist monasteries, bridges and buildings decorated with Buddhist prayer flags, monuments called stupas, and food dishes similar to that of the Chinese. This is what characterizes much of the Khumbu Region.

Buddhist prayer flags can be found virtually everywhere in the high Himalayas. Again, they have the tradition “Om mani padme hum” matra repeated across them.

Prayer flags flying on the rails of a suspension bridge.

A small Buddhist rock monument built for good luck.

A commemorative monument in Buddhism called a “Stupa.” These usually contain relics or the remains of monks.

2) The Terai
In the far south is the Terai, which is vastly different from the Himalayas in both landscape and culture. It is a hot, humid, and flat region filled with farms, grasslands, and savannahs—closely resembling India. Most of the people living in the Terai are Hindu, and food, music, art, and society are all heavily influenced by Indian customs. The open border relationship between Nepal and India has created a sense of unity between the different nationalities. Not to mention, the people in the Terai even look different from those in the far north. While the Himalayan communities tend to have more Chinese features, the Terai people are darker skinned resemble Indians. These differences have caused for some problems throughout the country.

3) The Hills
Between the Himalayas and the Terai are the Hills, which includes major cities like Kathmandu and Pokhara. This region is sort of a melting pot between the Himalayas and Terai, mixing both Hindu and Buddhist traditions (although there is typically more Hindu influence). While at a higher altitude than the Terai, the Hills are still far below the Himalayas and serve as the economic and governmental center of the country—with both the capital and largest tourism hubs falling within the region.

Division in the Country
Because of the vast differences between the Himalayas and the Terai, Nepal suffers from social divisions amongst its people. Those living in the Himalayas and Hills often look down upon those from the Terai, especially for their tendency to follow Indian culture. The Terai people have gone so far as to advocate for separating from Nepal in order to join India or form an independent nation, causing significant animosity from the north.

Being landlocked between two major world powers—China and India—it is no question why Nepal has such variety in its culture. With Buddhist/Tibetan influences in the north and Hindu/Indian influences in the south, it is easy to understand why the country might suffer from division. Fortunately, those of different faiths and backgrounds tend to get along, but there still exists an underlying tension over the country’s differences.

A Few Thoughts
Much of the information I have gathered has been through speaking with locals across Nepal, whether it be in Kathmandu, the Khumbu Region, or Annapurna (where I am now). In addition, I have tried to supplement my experiences with reading. Online articles, books, scholarly journals, and other sources have been of major value to my gathering of information. My blog is not academic or scientific, but merely experiential. Still, my observations and the anecdotes I share are reflective of a broader story here in Nepal. I hope that my further posts will paint a more vivid and exciting picture.

Somos Juntos – We Are Together

Dec 30, 2018

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“A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions.” – Oliver Wendell Holmes

I wasn’t sure what to expect when Christmas break arrived. I’d spent the last two months adjusting to living with new people and having a new work schedule and now I was going to be the only volunteer left in a three-bedroom apartment. The apartment felt eerily quiet. At first, I enjoyed dancing around the apartment without having anyone around, but by the third day I started to feel like a mad-woman. Working with the children and Face-Timing my loved ones just wasn’t enough. The idea of Christmas in Barcelona was the only thing keeping me going at that point.

However, the 20^th of December lifted my spirits. It was the last day of work but also the day I would sing Christmas songs with the children. When I arrived, I was elated by the presence of all the children and their families. The school was giving out hot chocolate and pastries. There was music playing and a do-it-yourself (DIY) photo booth. I no longer felt unsure of how my Christmas would feel. I’ve never felt more at peace than with the children and their families. It reassured my purpose in life and my intentions within my career, which is to consciously engage and have direct relationships with the groups and individuals I work with.

That day was magical! When the time came to sing Christmas songs with my children, all the teachers and families gathered around us to listen. I grabbed my ukulele, counted to three, and my little ones sang “Feliz Navidad,” and “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” It was the sweetest thing I could have ever experienced. I was close to tears as I watched my class smile and sing along. Their eyes were filled with such love as they looked to me to guidance. It has been such an honor to be a part of their lives. They have made me a better person and I love those children more than I can express.

After we finished, the crowd asked me to do a speech. Oh, my lanta. Ha, I was nervous but I got through it. The teachers then proceeded to ask families from different countries to sing a Christmas song in their language. We were a family, enjoying and respecting each other’s’ cultures; from Spanish, Moroccan, Nigerian, to Gujarati and more. It was the beginning of the best Christmas ever.

On the 23^rd of December, I traveled to Barcelona to meet my Second cousin and her husband for the first time. Prior to us meeting, we had only spoken through Facebook. The family resemblance was uncanny. It was comforting to see a familiar face and be around a culture more familiar to my own as a Honduran. They gave me the REAL Spain experience. They lived on the outskirts of Barcelona in Vallirana, Cataluña, Spain. This is the ore country side of Spain, where the pueblos (small towns) are located. I felt lucky to be staying with them because it added depth to my experience and knowledge of Spain. It was without a doubt my favorite part of Spain.

During the first two days, we visited the church La Sagrada Familia and drove around Vallirana. Catalan is the language spoken in this area. When I joined them for the Christmas mass, I could barely understand what was being said. It was definitely not the Spanish I had grown up around. Nevertheless, I was beautiful.

On Christmas day, we drove to Barcelona to join my cousin’s husband’s family for dinner in a hotel. The dinner was superb from start to finish and the family was more than welcoming of my presence. They asked me to play Christmas songs with my ukulele and so I did. Their singing captured the entire hotel floor’s attention. Everyone enjoyed themselves greatly. After dinner, a few of us went off to visit Montjuic, a hill surrounded by a national museum, a castle, and a 5-Star Hotel that hosted for the 1992 Summer Olympics. Only the pictures can truly describe the beauty of it all, but even then, it’s something you have to experience.

My cousins and I spent the next day at Mont Tibidabo, which overlooks Spain and is surround by an Amusement park and a telecommunications tower as well as the famous catholic church Sagrat Cor. The view was breathtaking; and just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, my cousins took be to Montserrat the next day.

Montserrat Mountain is both a natural park and monastery, and home of Our Lady of Montserrat, which is also known as “La Virgen Negra” – The Black Virgen Mary. It was the highest I have ever been on a mountain. It was truly heavenly. I was in the clouds. Again, this was an experience that is better illustrated through photos and 100% better in person. Every day here has been a dream.

December 28^th completed my Christmas break. At 10:40 a.m., I ran into the arms of my boyfriend Trevor who in July, decided he wanted to spend New Year’s with me in Spain. I’ve been speechless ever since. Traveling is a beautiful experience but it is much better when you’re surround by people you love. I cannot wait to see how the rest of this break plays out.

Wishing you all a Happy New Year filled with love.

-Rachel B.

The Privileges of My Life

Dec 17, 2018

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We may encounter many defeats but we must not be defeated.” -Maya Angelou

Kudos to the individuals who choose to travel by themselves for six months or even a year. I have been counting my blessings and my privileges during these last two weeks. Traveling is an exciting and life changing experience, but not for the reasons that we romanticized in our society. Spain is beautiful country with breath taking sights all around. There is ancient history is all around me and I am taking it all in. I still can’t believe that I’m even here. But I also can’t believe that I’ve been here for 51 days without my family and friends! Technology has been blessing and a curse for sure! I’m to the point where FaceTime is becoming a nuisance.

I’m a proud emotional human who values the importance of physical touch. I love hugs! I’m not mentioning this to sound sweet, but to point out that something as simple as a hug can be taken for granted. As I mentioned earlier, FaceTime has become a nuisance. I see and talk to my loved ones but what I really need is to be with them. I have realized how privileged I am for the simple fact that I get to go back home to the people I love. Lately, I’ve been thinking about how many families are separated by choice or by force. I think about how many of them will never get to see their loved ones again and how this will shape their lives. Most of all, I think about my mother, my aunts and uncles, and my abuela. I think about the sacrifices that were made just so that they could come to the U.S. and live a better life.

See, my mother immigrated from Honduras to the United States at the age of 26. Her older sister, my Tia Rina, was the main reason my mother was able to come to New York. Tia Rina left Honduras first to find work in the U.S.. My abuela followed and then eventually my mother and her other siblings did as well. Now, my mother is a citizen and lives 30 minutes away from her mother and her siblings. Can you imagine that journey? Can you imagine the struggles that came with it? I’ve heard these stories first hand and I still can’t imagine having to go through that.

This story is my reminder of why I am on this journey. Despite the days when I am overwhelmed by feelings of loneliness, I remember how lucky I am. It hurts to go through struggles but that’s a part of life. I know this. I also know how hard my mother and father worked to provide me with an education that could expose me to greater opportunities than what they had access to when they were younger. Just thinking about them makes me tear up because I am so proud. I am proud of them and I am proud of myself.

I hope when present and future travelers read this they pause and reflect on the value of their trip. The mixed feelings and the struggles are inevitable. It’s all part of the journey. I’m coming to see that the purpose in “traveling with a purpose,” is more about self-growth than it is anything else. Unless someone has partaken in this journey, no one can truly understand the difficulties that come with it. It’s probably one of the most humbling experiences as well. Close your eyes and open your heart. The message will be clearer.

Con cariño,

Rachel

P.S. – The children at work continue to fill my heart with so much love. I’ve been teaching them Christmas songs with Lola, my ukulele, for the last two weeks, preparing them to present it to their families on Thursday! To no surprise, music has been extremely therapeutic for the kids. It’s worked magic on their little hearts. It has helped some calm down after a tantrum and has brought others out of their shyness. Lola has a place in their hearts for sure. I can’t wait to join them in singing Christmas songs this Thursday.

P.S. – Here are some more pictures of Valencia! xoxo

Unraveling My Purpose

Dec 3, 2018

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In the dream of heaven, you completely surrender to life, knowing that everything is just the way it is. And because you accept everything as it is, you no longer worry about anything. Your life becomes exciting because there’s no more fear. You know that you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing, and that everything that has happened was meant to happen because they have led you to greater awareness. Even the worst thing that can happen to you is meant to happen because it’s going to push you to grow. – Don Miguel Ruiz

Adjusting to Spain has been easy, but I can’t the same say in regard to having no local support system. While I enjoy the presence of my fellow volunteers, it is exhausting to constantly be around individuals with journeys that do not align with mine. I mean, I’m a 23 year-old who is ready for a more serious part of her life, while the other volunteers are 18 years-old and dying to finally have some control over their own lives. This is 100% natural! I’m only mentioning it because I want all future travelers to know that it is okay to feel like the outsider of a group, to realize that who you are may not fit into the group’s agenda. Raising our awareness and respect for others is the best thing we can do for ourselves in these situations. Be social when you can but also honor the moments when your body tells you you’ve had enough for the day. Your mind, body, and soul will thank you. I promise.

On a different note, Spain has been treating me extremely well. From time to time I reflect on the Lumos catch phrase, “Travel with a purpose.” My purpose has unraveled little by little each week, but I’ll wait till the end to share that with you. I will say that my Spanish has improved significantly. I’ve let the children I work with correct my Spanish. For 5-7 year-olds, they are pretty intelligent. Mind you, some of them are from different countries and have to learn Spanish, Valenciana, Castellano, and English! These little sponges are way smarter than I was at their age! After 23 years, I can finally hold a conversation with my Abuela (grandmother) back home and it warms my heart. Common now!

I’m impressed with the way the teachers work with the children. In my experience, I have never seen so many teachers treat their “wild” students with so much love and patience. I love it! I’m so use to watching teachers get frustrated with these types of students. I have the utmost respect for these kinds of teachers because they volunteer the best parts of them. I first heard this idea from a college professor of mine in NY. He said, “I get paid to teach you. It doesn’t matter how I teach you because I still get a pay check. But if I expect you to learn, that means I have to volunteer my best self.” He then went on expressing how fed up he was with teachers who don’t get personal with their students; but I digress.

As I’ve mentioned in my previous posts, these children come from all over the world and they are all from lower income families. Additionally, the teachers in this school all have fair skin, while the students vary from tan, to brown, to black. Now, I am only mentioning this because I have observed the teacher-student relationships. I have yet to see one teacher pick on a student for their race or ethnicity, or looks for that matter. Not one teacher favors one group of students more than the other. This may not be true for all of the schools in Spain, but I recognize the genuine love and respect that these teachers have for each of their students. I’ve watched some of the children struggle with accepting that not everyone looks like them. Little fights break out here and there, but the teachers are always there to set a good example. They always tell the kids, “It doesn’t matter what you look like. I’m no better than anyone here. We are all a team and we have to respect one another and love one another equally.” It’s beautiful, necessary, and powerful because there are plenty of schools in the world that don’t adhere to this belief. Also, this is a crucial developmental stage in a child’s life. I comforted and honored to work in an environment that takes their role seriously. My mind screams, “Family!” every time I think about it.

Oh, and speaking of family – my soul sister and her fiance came to visit me in Spain! What? Do y’all understand how excited I was to see a familiar face? This is a woman that I look up to. We are about 9 years apart, she is a Licensed Mental Health Counselor (the profession I am going into), and she is one of the individuals who sparked my new life journey back in 2015. Needless to say, she is very special to me.

We took tourism to a whole other level. I spent a day and a half with them in Valencia just catching up on life! I then spent another day and a half meeting them in Barcelona, where we saw about 6 amazing sights within 5 hours. Crazy, I know but it was amazing. I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything!

*Side note* Spain’s trains are not cheap and the U.S. dollar does not work in our favor here, at least not right now.

Okay, back to it!

I purposely spent a day in a half in Barcelona because I knew I’ll be returning during Christmas time, which is three weeks away. Again, what? Where is the time going? Soon I’ll be meeting family that I’ve only ever known through social media. Am I blessed? Yes. Oh, and then my boyfriend is coming to visit for the remainder of the break! When I signed up for this trip I thought I was going to be solo. Thankful is an understatement! It’s a peace of mind to know I have these events to look forward to, especially after the emotional and physical fiasco my body went through prior to the GRE, which I am so glad is over by the way!

I went m.i.a. the day before the test. I did not have the energy to talk to anyone. I was overwhelmed and had knots in my stomach. I can’t express enough my dislike for these types of tests; a test that measures absolutely nothing about who I am and what I am capable of doing. I process things at a slower pace and I need time to grasp concepts. I learn better through writing and discussing the material rather than memorizing it for the sake of getting a good grade. It doesn’t align well with who I am. Nevertheless, I still gave my best on test day, and luckily I don’t get nervous once a test is in front of me. I accept the moment, I breathe, and I do what I can.

When the day of the test arrived, I had to travel three hours on train from Valencia, Spain to Madrid. During that time I had journaled to myself. In that journal entry I wrote:

...You did your best. You will do your best. You challenged yourself. You rose to the occasion. Be proud. Smile. Feel love. Be love. Be.

After writing, I let go of all the pressure I had placed on myself. Once I arrived in Madrid, I spent an hour in a coffee shop catching up on some reading. As I drank my delicious mocha coffee and ate my cinnamon bun soaked in Nutella, I came across the passage in the beginning of this blog. I had chills, y’all! I felt at such peace with myself. My world aligned again and I was ready for whatever was to come.

Taking the GRE in a different country was probably the best decision for me. It felt more relaxing to be amongst individuals from different parts of the world. I can’t explain it, it just felt good. At the end of it all, I can honestly say I am content and EXTREMELY thankful for the experience. Oh, I’m also thankful that it’s over! Out of sight and out of mind!

I called everything post-GRE “The journey back to myself.” Between being sick and stressed out about the test, I definitely fell out of touch with myself. I needed to socialize, start working out, and do more sight seeing. This was my new mission. To hold myself accountable, I began writing a list titled, “What do I want to accomplish today?” I would even list something as simple as waking up, which is a great accomplishment for anyone. As someone who is active in the mental health community, I find it extremely beneficial to notice all the “small” things. This type of mindfulness is powerful because things such as waking up can be a difficult task, especially for those like myself who battle depression. It helps reprogram the brain in more ways than one. For me, it sends a message to my brain that everything I do matters. It reminds me to be impeccable with my words and my actions, especially towards myself. It’s a reminder to never feel less than or shrink at the presence of challenging situations.

So, yeah. All is well my friends. I am learning, growing, and embracing this journey that I am on. I wouldn’t change a thing about this experience.

Talk to you soon,

Rachel

Life Beyond the Vines

P.S. Enjoy the pics! There are some things that don’t need to be put into words. A picture can say it all.

Expect the Unexpected

Nov 13, 2018

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*Leaves the U.S. with a week old cold and no medicine.*

Me: I’m fine. It’s just my body re-adjusting to this Northern weather.

*Arrives in Spain with flat mates who are also sick.*

It’s fine. I’ll just clean, eat really healthy, and drink some tea.

*Has Bronchitis during second week in Spain.*

“I’m so tired. I’m dyinnnggggg. I can’t sleep. Ahhhh!”

*Goes to a doctor in Spain – Begins 3^rd week in Spain.*

See, I knew it’d pass. (Meanwhile I’m on steroids and antibiotics and two other prescriptions).

__________________________________________________________________

I am overwhelmed at the pace of life right now. On the 19^th of November I’ll be on my way to Madrid to take the GRE. A part of me is anxious because I’ve been extremely sick and unproductive these last two weeks (at least in my eyes). Yet, I’ve given my best along the way and the other half of me is a bit more understanding. Nevertheless, I am still trying to jump into a healthy routine and it’s already my 3^rd week here. Trying to reach my normal energy level has been a challenge. I can’t wait to finally feel 100%!

Anyways, let me fill you in on my two-week journey thus far.

As my mini-dialogue expressed, I’ve been sick since the week before I left for Spain. This made my departure from the U.S. quite interesting. My flight from Newark, NJ to Charlotte, NC was just fine. At this point I could deal with my sniffles. However, traveling grew more painful as the day went on. On my eight-hour flight to Madrid, I was lucky enough to have an entire row to myself. Yes, I sprawled out across four seats during the entire flight. I wish my body would have let me fall asleep on that flight, but instead it kept reminding me of how sick I felt. By the time I reached Madrid the next morning, I was EXHAUSTED. Oh, how I wished I could have been in Valencia already. Instead, I spent seven hours in the Madrid airport. The “best” part of it all was getting lost and having to check back in with customs. Ha! I was a walking zombie. I could not even process what was going on. I remember facetiming my boyfriend and tearing up because I was past the point of exhaustion. I did my best to stretch, read, play music, and keep my mind busy. Unfortunately, my immune system said, “Sorry girl. I’m clocking out,” and it did.

I was beyond grateful to have finally reached Valencia, Spain. Sleep was the number one thing on my mind, but it was not the first thing that I was able to do. Instead, I bonded with my flat-mates and fellow volunteers. They have been such a sweet, fun, and lively group of individuals. A few of them are from Germany, one is from Switzerland, another from Poland, and another is from Washington State. I was surprised to find out that I was the oldest in the group. I expected to volunteer with a variety of ages. Instead, they’re all 18 years-old, straight out of high school, ready to drink and party. Then there’s me, your 23-year-old nanny and college graduate, who’s ready for bed by 11:00 p.m. I suppose our priorities are just a tad different, but that’s okay! I’ve enjoyed working and growing with them these past two weeks.

However, in regard to my health, these past two weeks have been a fiasco. The medicine I picked up from the pharmacy was 100% ineffective. My body was not having it but I still tried to stay active during my first week in Spain. From bicycle rides to the beach, to joining the other volunteers on early afternoon excursions, I pushed through it all. I even joined them on Halloween night.

Side note: the night I learned that Valencia parties until 7:00 a.m. Can you imagine my face when I was told this? My jaw dropped and I shook my head. I was used to my own family parties lasting until 3:00 a.m. in the morning, but 7:00 a.m. Excuse me, what? New York City, you are not the only city that never sleeps. I can’t hang and I’m not ashamed!

I digress. Anyways, my cold escalated and turned into bronchitis. I grew miserable. My energy and moral was low. I was coughing so much that my sweet elderly neighbor Keke knocked on my door to make sure I was okay. I cried. I was so tired of being sick and I missed having my loved ones around. I’ve also been anxious about the GRE and my college applications. My body needed time to relax and I was not giving it what it needed. It took me until the end of my second week here to finally go to the doctors. Four medications later and I’m slowly getting back to feeling like myself again.

_________________________________________________________________________

Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how the volunteer work has been. It’s been an amazing learning experience. In the two weeks I have been here, I have journaled endlessly about all the things I have learned, the things that I’d like to do, and the things I never knew. For example, I came across a video one day discussing the cons about certain volunteer trips. I was a bit disappointed at myself for not thinking twice about the matter. This was my response after watching the video:

It’s interesting to watch this now that I’m already on my “Travel with a Purpose,” scholarship. I’m glad that I came across this video because it raised a perspective that went unrecognized in my mind. If I’m being honest yes, I feel a built guilty after watching this video. However, I believe that video has added on and changed how I will spend my time here for that same reason. How can I give back in a way that will actually be helpful to the children I work with? That’s the question I’ll be asking myself everyday. If nothing else, I want to be a role model and help these children use their minds and embrace the process of learning and thinking for themselves. I wish I had the money to help the organizations here, but I can’t change their situation at the moment. But I can give them the tools they need to grow. The next couple of months will be filled with learning. I’m still thrilled to have this opportunity but even more thrilled to learn how to be a better advocate for the children here.Volunteer Tourism

The children I work with range from six to seven years old. Majority of them have come from different parts of the world, some from Africa, Pakistan, and South America. In the time that I’ve spent with them so far, I can tell that these children need structure, consistency, and better examples of of how to interact with different cultures work as a team. However, it’s been a challenge for me to maintain order in the class room while the teacher is gone. The children aren’t difficult to be around. What’s been difficult is trying to tell them to be quiet and sit down when all they want to do is hug, talk, and smile with me. It’s unfortunate that I’ve been sick for the first two weeks, but I am so grateful to have 3 months with these children. Week by week I’ll be learning more and hopefully adding to their activities and helping open their minds. Next week, I’ll be playing the ukulele for them!

Hopefully my blog post improve from here on out now that I am starting to feel better! Enjoy the photos! (If you click on the images they will automatically rotate themselves.) Technology can be weird sometimes.

I love you all.

Xoxo!

Wish me luck on my last week of reviewing for the GRE. Been studying since May (on and off) will I ever feel ready?

Baadae Africa

Aug 2, 2018

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September 23, 2017

I didn’t realize saying goodbye to Tanzania would be this hard. The airplane just took off from Dar and my eyes filled with tears. When I first landed in Africa I was actually pretty scared and worried from everything I had been told and I was hesitant to officially step off the plane once it landed; however, now as I’m leaving I don’t want the wheels on the plane to go off the ground.

How is it possible that I came as a stranger but left with so many rafikis? Even though these friends may be on the other side of the globe once I’m back in America, they’re still lifelong friends. There’s a connection that is formed when you travel to a new place and befriend the people there. Your friendship accelerates a million times more and the bond you share is so special. I feel that way about all of the people that I met through Work the World and all of the amazing people that actually live in Tanzania.

I just don’t know how to put into words the people that are in Tanzania. They are such beautiful people with such amazing hearts. I’m going to miss walking by the shoe maker Sharkan and the painter Mirajisekulamba every morning when I would go into work and would get back from work. They were always there with a grin on their face shouting, “Maji, mabo?!” I’m going to miss all the phrases and speaking in Swahili and my dear Swahili teacher, Jacob. I’m also going to miss all of the Swahili food and Swahili music/dancing. I’m going to miss knowing so many of the nurses, nursing students, and doctors throughout the various units and how great of friends we all became. Like going on weekend adventures with Florida or going to Jane’s house for dinner and church with her beautiful family. I’m going to miss everyone from Work the World like Mo, Jesca, Edito, Faraja, Beda, Naama, and all the security men. I could write an entire book on everything they’ve done for me. They always asked about my day and were there for me all the time! Jesca went to the hospital with me every time I had to go for my dressing change. I’m going to miss seeing my waiters at the local restaurants and how they’d always hug me and knew me by name. Amos and Maraja were my two favorites. Amos would always make me a special smoothie at the Red Tomato before it closed down and then he moved to Salty’s where I ate my last meal in Tanzania and he waited on me. I’m going to miss our talks about his sweet wife and family and his commute every day. Maraja worked at Shooters and every Thursday when everyone would go celebrate he always chose a special dessert for me. My favorite was the Mississippi Mud Pie. When I had my job interview for Vanderbilt and had to use the wifi at Shooters he helped get me a spot and accommodated me so sweetly.

This was today when I was saying goodbye to everyone.

Everyone, meet Mo. My bomba, bomba rafiki. Love this man.

Meet Sharkan! The shoemaker! He made me and my friends back home several shoes. I’ll never be able to forget his kindness and face.

Meet Mirajisekulamba! The painter. He and the shoe maker worked right next to one another. He always gave me a hard time for not being able to say his name perfectly, hahaha. He also painted me many beautiful paintings for my loved ones back home.

This is Faraja. One of the chefs in the house. He has a heart of chocolate. Sweet and pure.

Maraja! He was the waitor at Shooter’s and my beautiful friend Dianne.

I’m going to miss how everyday was so different at the hospital and I never knew which new friend I was going to make next! It was always an adrenal rush. I’m actually going to miss the crazy dala dala and bijaji rides too! Even though every time I would get in a mode of transportation here I was scared for my life because of how people drive here. Gotta love no street rules.

Moreover, I’m going to miss going to the local market and bargaining for every item so you don’t get mzungu price. I’ll miss all my friends there too (they literally knew me by name because of how many times I have been souvenir shopping… If only you could’ve seen me at the airport: 2 large suitcases, one backpack, one long side purse that looked like Mary Poppins handbag because of its depth, and my purse!) I wanted to make sure I was able to get everyone at least something from Africa! I wish I could bring all my loved ones here so they could just see how spectacular it truly is.

I’m simply going to miss the way of life in Tanzania with how people live. The people in Dar truly humbled me and I just don’t know how I could ever pay it back. If I had to say what my favorite part of Africa was it would 100% be the people and culture. I’m so grateful to be able to say that I have a family in Tanzania.

In addition, there are two things that have really been on mind over the last few weeks. What is it going to be like going back into a Western country when I’ve gotten so use to life here? Lastly, what am I supposed to do from here? I’ve seen all of these things and my heart and eyes have been opened to so much. My biggest fear is simply going back to the western world and have Africa just be a memory. Africa is literally like a different world. How am I supposed to connect these two worlds that I know? What am I meant to do from here in terms of helping the health care system in Africa? Change is made by many little steps and it takes a long time. However, nothing will happen unless we fight for that change.

Halfway home:

I am being overwhelmed with thoughts as I am hopping from airplane to airplane getting closer to returning to America. My first flight from Dar to Switzerland I cried the entire time. The lady I sat beside was actually a retired nurse who use to work at Muhimbli. We had such a great conversation. Her family owns a little pastry shop in the city market. She must have thought I was emotionally unstable though because all I would do when we weren’t talking is just stare at the seat in front of me and let the tears roll down my face. For 8 hours I did that. All the memories flashing in my mind and the fear of returning. I’m not sure why it is a fear. I am just worried this will only be a memory. How do I connect the two worlds? People in both of my worlds aren’t connected and I am anxious with how I will convey with everyone everything I experienced. It is honestly impossible. You just have to experience it yourself. No matter how many times you talk about it or how many pictures you show it doesn’t do it justice. I feel like I will be beating a dead horse and won’t be able to relate to what I once called home. Ignorance is truly bliss.

One thing that has been on my mind is how easy it is to simply come and go for Americans. A lot of people in Africa may never be able to come to America based on restrictions we have. It’s sad that most of the people I know will never go to Africa because of the “unknown” and stories that have been told. On the flip side, most of my rafikis in Tanzania won’t be able to come to the states due to money as well as restrictions we have set forth. It just makes me upset these two amazing worlds won’t get to meet or come into contact. It is something that I am internally struggling with.

Lastly, since I have begun my trip back home a few things have stood out to me. There is ACTUAL A/C, mzungus are everywhere, there is no body odor, there is actual Wi-Fi and proper electricity, there is toilet paper in the bathrooms, and there are no bugs anywhere. All the paint in the buildings is nicely done and there’s no dirt anywhere. It’s funny to me how these things never really stood out to me in Dar. I just accepted them. However, now that I am reacclimating into Western society they are extremely apparent. I am at the airport in Geneva right now and my next stop will be Chicago. From there I will be NASHVILLE BOUND! Yay. Very bitter sweet.

Pediatric Oncology August 28-September 8

Aug 28, 2017

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August 28-September 8

My experience in Pediatric Oncology these last two weeks was absolutely unbelievable despite me having strange things going on with my health.

My first week was a weird week for me because I was having some serious GI complications. It made me miss 2 days at the hospital. It makes me really upset with myself when I miss work but you can’t take care of other people until you take care of yourself. Luckily, I’m all better now. However, this last week I actually had to go to the hospital for a minor operation. I’ll write about that in my next post. In this post I’ll talk about the Oncology Ward.

My first day on the Pediatric Oncology Unit was unbelievable. I absolutely fell in love with all of the children!

I’ve always heard people say how hard Oncology can be, especially Pediatric Oncology; however, I love it. Of course the children are very sick and it can break your heart. But, children have such a special place in my heart. So even though these children are sick and sometimes lifeless which is the exact opposite of how children should be, it’s when they need you the most. I’m so honored that so many parents and children knew me by my name! On Monday I was beside the medicine closest and a lady walked passed me. I remembered her face but couldn’t really remember anything else. I said hello and how was her morning and then she said both my first and last name! I probably met her once last week but she remembered my name and everything. There are two units in the Oncology Ward. There’s upendo and tumaini. Upendo means love and that’s where the really critical patients are. The Tumaini Ward means hope and that’s where the less critical patients go to or where patients from Updeno transfer to when they are improving. I spent most of my time in the Upendo Ward.

The children honestly make your heart grow 20 times bigger. Being with the children really made me want to know more Swahili so I could communicate with them and play with them more. Most children don’t understand you can’t speak Swahili. They’ll keep speaking to you. I realized though during a lot of the play time with children you don’t need words to communicate. It was so interesting getting to play with African children. For instance, there’s a playroom you can go in where the children have different things to play with. When you walk in all of the children smile ear to ear and just run up to you yelling, “Mzungu!!!!!” We were using clay and they were making food to eat like chipati’s or ugali. It was funny to me because that’s exactly what children would do in America except it’s just different foods. They’d also play doctor with me. They’d pretend to put an IV cannula in me and would tell me to not cry and shh. Since they’ve been in the hospital so much that’s what they’ve been exposed to so they were reenacting what they’ve had to do.

Handsome Uma! My first kiddo friend! He loved wearing my name tag everyday!

Her little smile could literally light up the world!

This is the play room where all the fun games happen! Mzungu alert!

PHOTO 1- There was never a day where I wasn’t holding at least 2 children’s hands.

PHOTO 2- They always wanted to take me somewhere

PHOTO 3- And we are off again!

Sometimes the kids would also hurt you. Since I’m white they find me very interesting! They’ll get my hair out of my bun and just pull and pull on it trying to get it to come out. This one little girl kept jumping up and popping me in the eye. She would pull my arm hairs and all the children kept pinching my skin. No matter how much I would say no, hapana, they would literally mock me and just laugh. I had to hide in the nurses room so they would stop hurting me. But for the most part they were very sweet and loving. It was very interesting to see how they do some of the things in the ward compared to what I’m used to seeing in America. I was able to understand why we do a lot of the things we do in the states. For instance, there’s this big bottle of liquid morphine that just sits in the unlocked cupboard in the middle of all of the patients.

The parent will simply bring a cap size clear container to you which means there child is in pain and they need the morphine for them. Without documenting or anything you simply fill the cap to the top and that’s it. You don’t go assess the child or follow the parent with the medication to make sure the child actually takes it. In addition, the nurses typically give the parents the medications to administer to the children. No documenting is done (or at least any that I’ve seen). Of course the nurses administer IV medications and IV flushes and will put a check mark beside the action in the patients file but other than that the parents are in control of the actual pills.

I saw a situation where this went very bad due to miscommunication on various ends of the spectrum. Me and a doctor from Ireland named Rincy were looking at a patients lab values over the course of a week and documenting them on a chart so you could see a trend. However, the child’s K+ level was 2.4 two days ago... The lab value hadn’t been rechecked since then and the child was taking a potassium tablet. However, upon further investigation and talking with the Mom we discovered that the child had ran out of the tablets a few days ago. The mother simply didn’t understand. It was the mothers responsibility to tell the nurse or doctor that she ran out of the medication so they could order a new prescription. However, if it was properly documented and the nurse distributed the medication then this problem wouldn’t have occurred. The scary thing to think about is what would have happened if we hadn’t of caught that? Who would have? And when? A low potassium is critical and needs first priority.

This situation taught me the importance of patient advocacy. If you don’t advocate for your patient and truly know their chart then who else will? That responsibility falls on you. We are so lucky in America to have almost an entirely paperless system. There are far less accidents that occur. Another example is having to read the doctors orders on each patients chart. It’s very interesting how they do their orders. The doctor will write it inside each patients chart and then a nurse will go through all the charts and write all the orders in a notebook where all the orders are together in one spot rather than various folders. I did this job one day. Writing down all the orders literally almost took me all day.

Moreover, reading the doctors handwriting was absolutely horrendous sometimes! I could easily see how someone could write the orders down wrong. I would have to ask various nurses sometimes what the doctor was trying to say because the handwriting was quite horrific.

As far as infection goes I could see how easily a child could be infected due to germs of other children. The unit was a ward so there would typically be 6 children in one room. Now add family members and brothers and sisters and that’s a lot of people in one room that can transmit germs. One little boy was being tested for TB and he was still around all of the other children. Infection control was something I constantly worried about. Furthermore, all the patients share the same bathroom and toilet. Inside the ward there’s just the room and the communal showers are in a different room. The hospital cooked food for families that lived too far away and couldn’t bring food from home. However, if they did live close to the hospital they were expected to bring their own food from home.

On EID Day there was hardly anyone at the hospital. I didn’t even realize that Friday was a holiday. It’s a huge Muslim holiday. How people explained it to me is that it’s kind of like Easter to Christian’s. There was only one nurse on the Upendo Ward taking care of the patients. I found this to be my golden opportunity and I basically became this nurses side kick all day. Since there were very little hands and so much to do I was able to get a lot of experience that day. I helped prepare all of the IV flush medications. In America typically all the medications are already mixed for you. However, you prepare the entire medication. In the bottle it starts out as powder. You have to draw up a certain percentage of sterile saline (depending on which medication you have to dilute) and mix it with the powder. You even have to do normal saline flushes this way. They do not come pre-made. This is something I never even thought about having to do. We are so blessed in the US to have all of these things already made for us.

EID weekend was a very interesting weekend and we had to take extra precautions. There were lots of parties going on and the Work the World team warned us not to be out late because a lot of thieves are out and about during the holiday. There was a huge party at Coco Beach which is just down the street from where I live. I was meeting up with someone near by and as I left the house there were stampedes of people on the side of the road walking. It was evening time and they were all leaving the big celebration at Coco Beach. Most were all dressed in hijabs and typical Muslim clothing. There were probably 100 people walking down the street in the same direction I was trying to get to. I ended up walking on the road. About 2 minutes had passed by as I was walking and I just felt someone hit my arm. I turned around to find a Muslim woman glaring at me. She asked me why is it that American women (how she knew I was American I have no idea. Most people think I look either Greek or Italian here maybe due to the curly hair) think they can just walk so fast in front of everyone else? She spoke very good English but she was being very passive aggressive towards me and I actually got extremely worried because I was not in a safe environment. Of course I was wearing respectful clothes for the culture and I had done nothing wrong. I was walking on the road so I didn’t even push my way through people. It was a clear opening. People in Tanzania do tend to be very hakuna matata (no worries) and don’t typically rush. I’m just a fast walker in general. I explained as nice as I could that that’s not why I was walking fast. I was walking fast because I was late meeting a friend (which was true). In that moment I saw the friend out of the corner of my eye. I began to walk towards him and she just glared at me as if I owed it to her to continue having a conversation with her when she was practically yelling at me. I explained this is my friend right here. She just rolled her eyes and continued walking with her friends. That has honestly been the only bad encounter I’ve had with a Muslim person here. All of them are so sweet and kind. This situation just really caught me off guard and reminded me to always be cautious and safe with my surroundings.

The last thing I’d like to talk about are two little boys from Muhimbili. One is 15 (almost my little brothers age) and the other is 11. Both of them loved to draw. This reminded me exactly of my little brother, Grantley. He loves to draw as well and I could see the same passion Grantley has in these little boys eyes. They had their drawings on loose printer paper. That day after work I decided I’d run by the little grocery store and get them a sketch book and some art pencils. I honestly can’t not put into the words the feeling I got when the boys saw what I had got them. It humbled me so much. Their eyes lit up as if it was Christmas morning and they kept saying God Bless You. My last day at the hospital I got those boys each a football. They had asked me for one weeks ago but I didn’t know the place to get them. I asked Faraja (one of the staff members of Work the World) if he could get me some if I gave him the money and he said of course! As I pulled the footballs out of the bag (red and white for Simba colors of course) their eyes were even bigger than before when I gave them the art supplies. They grabbed the balls and they were off to go and play with them. That’s the last time I saw the two boys. Best moment ever.

I’m definitely going to miss all of those children.

And I’ll always remember the special moments like a child just running up to you to hold your hand and walk around the unit with you. Or when I had seven children just clinging to me for about 10 minutes. One of the grandparents had to tell them to let go of me so I could go to the nurses station.

My favorite painting in the hospital. There is beautiful artwork all around the children's hopsital.

My favorite painting in the hospital. There is beautiful artwork all around the children’s hospital.

An African Wedding 03/09/2017

Mar 9, 2017

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My dear Grandmother’s friend had a friend who lived with her in the US when he came to America for college many years ago. He is originally from Tanzania and actually invited me to his nephews wedding! He is the gentleman I talked about in my very first post.

Please meet Mr. Tony!

I got the chance to go to the wedding and it was WONDERFUL! Everyone was so welcoming and it was such a neat experience to be apart of. Imagine going to a wedding where you can’t understand anything anyone is saying! Of course some spoke English and I understood a few phrases but I couldn’t even try to fit in. I stood out like a zebra in a room painted entirely of pink. It was so fascinating to see the different traditions compared to a wedding back home. The evening began with Mr. Tony sending a taxi to pick us up and one of his son’s took us home after the wedding. Their kindness was unbelievable.

Mr. Tony’s daughter who is currently at Uni in Germany but came home for the wedding.

My good friend Simone was my plus 1 since my boyfriend wasn’t in Africa. She killed the dance floor! At the beginning of the reception the husband’s family makes a big line with family members on each side and the brides family walks in between them. Everyone is dancing in the big celebration line and they hug each of their new family members (the members of the brides family) into their family. Simone and I got to be apart of the husband’s side of the family and dance in the line and cheer everyone into the family. We all were seated and then the wedding party comes through and then the bride and groom came dancing in to their song. There was a spokes person at the wedding and TV’s set up everywhere so you could see everything going on.

The two family’s coming together and the bride and groom in the center!

Weddings are VERY BIG in Africa! Everyone in the community pitches in money for the wedding. If I wrote everything out from the night it would take you a year to read so I am just going to write out the main high lights! Before the bride and groom popped the champagne it went around the entire reception hall and everyone touched it. It was then given to the bride and groom to pop open. There was A LOT of dancing, singing, and ceremonial things that went on.

This was right before the husband was given the spear.

One of those things was the husband receiving a large spear. It is a tradition in their tribe to get this upon marriage. It shows that he is the man of the house. It is meant to stand up right in his and his wife’s bedroom. However, when he passes away it is supposed to be turned upside down. The wedding began around 5PM and we didn’t start to eat until 10PM. A lot of the foods were from the husbands tribe. I tried a bit of everything (which was A LOT). It was all delicious! We ended up leaving around midnight; however, the wedding was still going on!

It was truly an unforgettable night! They accepted us as family and were so loving.

Such bright colors everywhere! We were right by the ocean!

Inshallah

Aug 24, 2016

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The idea of writing this final post has been, in a word, overwhelming. I have certainly struggled throughout this experience with how to best articulate all of the complex experiences I’ve had into accessible and engaging posts for this blog, but this is on a level all its own.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is the recap.

This is the last post I will write regarding my life-changing adventure in Morocco. It is also the first post that anyone visiting this blog in the future will see. Embracing that duality, if you’re curious about any specific topics regarding my time in Morocco, here is an abbreviated list with shortcuts to the accompanying posts:

How much do you actually know about Morocco? Improve your knowledge and click here! You can also get my initial impressions here and here!

Want to learn more about the rationale and execution of my project in women’s empowerment? Click here, here, and/or here!

For fun travel reviews, click here and/or here. Morocco is a safe, welcoming, and economic travel destination for solo travelers as well as family vacations! Tourism does a great deal for their economic development too, so PLEASE consider planning a trip soon!

Curious about Islamist and/or Moroccan culture? Click here, here, and/or here for some personal stories!

Above is the amazing local staff of my nonprofit, Cross Cultural Solutions. They were my encouragers, challengers, and protectors. But most of all, they were my dearest friends and confidantes in the volunteer house. Two of these staff members are former PeaceCorps employees, which was a terrific resource for me to explore as I continue to pursue next steps in postgrad employment. The other two staff members did not speak much English, which makes their friendships uniquely valued to me. These are people who have only communicated with me through a common second language. The reason this is so special to me is because I have a theory about how our personalities change based on how we are able to communicate in any given language. (I’m not the only one either... check it out!) In my first language, I can express a seemingly infinite amount of nuances and emotions. But that’s much more difficult to accomplish in a second, third, or fourth language. So to have been able to make friends despite the limited self-expression of a second language is quite meaningful to me! Overall, my wonderful experience in Morocco would not have been possible without these four incredible individuals.

Cross Cultural Solutions is an exemplary nonprofit that I am grateful to have called my sponsoring partner in executing this project. If you have any interest in volunteering abroad, I strongly encourage you to investigate their programs on their website. They have well-developed programs working toward sustainable impact in Morocco, India, Tanzania, Costa Rica, Ghana, Peru, Thailand, and Guatemala. They provide excellent customer service before, during, and after their programs, and they do a particularly great job ensuring the safety of volunteers while abroad. Please feel free to ask any questions about working with CCS if you’re interested!

Shukran bezzaf, thank you SO much, for being a part of this adventure with me. I was motivated that my women’s empowerment project indeed addressed a profound, ongoing problem in this country, and I can only hope that the work I did over the last three months made an impact on at least one person I interacted with. Education is the key to empowerment, and I am so grateful to have had the platform I did with so many different audiences to initiate these tough discussions. Sometimes it was difficult to change classes, but at the end of the day it was for the best. My impact was much further spread as a result. Please continue to share this blog with your friends, your family, and anyone else you may come across that could benefit from these stories. One of the primary goals of the Lumos fellowship is to continue to advocate and share about your experiences, maintaining an infinite cross cultural dialogue. So I invite all of you who have so kindly taken the time to read this blog to join me in pursuing that. Inshallah, or God willing, this is not where the adventure ends.

Finally, in true Belmont fashion, I’ll conclude with some fun music recommendations of songs I couldn’t stop singing during my time abroad. Check them out! “Zina” by Babylone, “Maria” by Faydee, “Habib Galbi” by A-WA, “Sahranine” by Carole Samaha, and “Kolly Melkak” by Sherine.

For those of you in Nashville, stay tuned for the date of my project presentation on Belmont’s campus later this fall. Looking forward to seeing you all soon! All my love!