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6am. Diego. The bright blue sky stretches in a dome above the city; majestic strips of virgin white clouds create an awe-inspiring contrast. Cracked streets crisscross in a semi-block like pattern. One dusty, ex-colonial street after another. Two story houses line every cracked alley; pillars and beautifully shuttered windows allude to moments past. White washed . . . → Read More: A day in Diego, Madagascar For your reading pleasure…a post about my last day in Equatorial Guinea, after I had just lived there by myself for a month. Never got posted: I have spent a month living in a West African city. One month. I remember my first two days here: I was terrified to exit my hostel. I refused . . . → Read More: The Learning Curve: Living in a developing country When I started this blog, I wasn’t really sure what I was going for. I wanted to provide something informative, but mainly inspirational stuff. I was tired of feeling like the only female to have ever decided to travel to Africa alone. From the responses I got from people you would think I was putting . . . → Read More: Writing on the road: what I've learned. Tonight I was sick. So instead of going out to a local bar and watching soccer with my roommate Oliver (pronounced Oleeveeay), I stayed in. I would elaborate on my sickness but it’s not too important and probably just brought on by eating street food. Anyway, moving onto the point of this post…being at home . . . → Read More: One, two…five things I've learned about myself. It is my last night in Diego. Four nights until I am back in America, and I am feeling such a range of emotions; truly, I don’t think that my writing abilities can convey the bag of things that are sprinting through my brain right now. I cycle between intense excitement, sorrow at leaving, butterflies about . . . → Read More: The Last Night. Cue dramatic music please! Hello World! When I touch down in America, I will have been traveling for just around nine months. Nine months in developing countries with brief respites (five days in total) in developed nations. As I get ready to pack my backpack for the last time (until I leave in September again!) I have started thinking . . . → Read More: Getting ready to return to the "West": Coming to America Imagine if you lived in a city where you were never addressed by your first name, or even by “Miss, Mrs, or Madame”. No, instead you were called out, pointed at, and constantly referred to as a “Vazaha”. Vazaha is the Malagasy word for “stranger”. And while every culture, language, and institution has a name . . . → Read More: Vazaha Hello my fellow travelers! Sorry about the long gap in writing for my blog; life has been absolutely crazy recently and I find myself barely having time to sleep…or it seems like it. My work load, combined with the current World Cup craze (which, of course, requires my undivided attention and presence at my favorite . . . → Read More: Hello world! Update from Madagascar I have to admit something: I’m still having a hard time meeting locals, and that makes me sad. Don’t get me wrong, I have a core group of friends here; about 10-15 people…half of which are Malagasy. They’re awesome people; so much fun and genuinely caring. The problem, though, is that I met these people . . . → Read More: Still having a hard time meeting locals… Right before I set out on this trip, I remember writing something about wanting to become more “cultured” during my travels. I wasn’t, and am still not, fully sure what that even means; so many people talk about being “cultured”…but are they really? I think being “cultured” is often synonymous with being educated and rich. . . . → Read More: Culture 1; Kim 0 Partner Sites |
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