Post-retreat = It’s Finally Happening…

This past weekend the Baby Gappers (as we have dubbed ourselves) visited Em’s house in the Highlands of North Carolina for a little retreat. This was only the second time the seven of us have been together; the first time was back during orientation in April. I felt nothing but excitement going into the weekend and it did not let me down. I had a blast with the other six and I will honestly admit how grateful I am that they are in my life. We have an incredible dynamic and every single one of them inspires me in their own unique way.

We spent the weekend hiking, eating, getting to know each other over competitive card games and crazy storytelling, laughing until we couldn’t breathe, losing our voices on quite a few occasions, discussing deep, life questions under the stars, and jumping off of cliffs and waterfalls. And here is some proof:

Looking cute at one of the overlooks on the first day

Top of Rainbow Falls!

THE epic photo of us at the bottom of Rainbow Falls. I mean, look at us, those faces. Damn

Chilling at the lake, stuffing our faces, the usual

Also, a huge, loving shout out to Emily’s family for hosting us. I know we are all grateful beyond words–their hospitality blew us away. We felt at home from the moment we arrived; so thank you, seriously.

And now, I’m sitting at my kitchen table, typing this up, looking at all the photos from the weekend and feeling a strange combination of a light and heavy heart. Saying goodbye to them was more difficult than I had anticipated. Spending time with them allowed a much needed break from saying goodbye to my friends going to college. It was fantastic to be around people who know exactly what I’ll be going through in a little over a week.

Wait. Let me repeat that. A little over a week. A little over a week. As in, next Friday, September 5th. Now that the retreat weekend is over, it’s really starting to dawn on me that… uh… I’m leaving the country. My strange limbo of not being in high school, yet not being in college either, is quickly and slowly coming to an end. I’m growing restless, but becoming nostalgic at the same time. I’m feeling both sides of every emotion on the spectrum and I don’t really know what to do except keep myself busy so I don’t have to think about it.

But of course, that doesn’t always work, and I do find myself thinking about it. I find myself thinking about my goals for the year, about the things I’m going to experience, the ways I’m going to change and stay the same, the people I’ll keep in touch with and won’t. I find myself thinking about the things I’m going to miss, about how much I take my home and family for granted, realizing that without them I would be nowhere and what I’m about to do wouldn’t be possible. I find myself thinking about how grateful I am for the this opportunity, this once in a lifetime opportunity.

But mostly, I find myself thinking about relationships. About how grateful I am that I have people so important to me that it’s difficult to say goodbye. After moving so much in my life, I have figured out something about myself. For me, home hasn’t taken the form of a house, or even a place. Home, for me, isn’t really where my heart is… But with the hearts of others. I’m sure that sounds cheesy or cliche or whatever, but for me, I feel most at home with the people I love, whether it’s with my parents or siblings or cousins or friends.

So what am I most excited for? The relationships I know I’ll build abroad, the home I will hopefully create through connecting with my host families, with the people in the towns and villages I’ll live in and work with. At the end of the day, sure, I might fall in love with the culture of a place, with the way the sun sets over its landscape, with its savory food… but the people. That’s what will make me truly love and miss a place.

In the meantime though, I’m trying to teach myself Sinhala, which coincidentally, I can only do phonetically at the moment because they don’t use letters, they use symbols, and loooollll they all just look like intricate little squiggles.

Cheers, for now! I’ll be back later next week with a final blog post before I depart. Now to enjoy my last weekend here in the states (eeeeeeeppp!!) and get all my (excuse my language) shit together lol.

The Origin of Serendipity

The English language is not commonly renowned for its beauty– that compliment is usually saved for Spanish or French or Italian. While those languages hold charm and eloquence, English can be harsh and clunky if not manipulated with the utmost care. There are, however, choice words that help English hold it head high, and one of those is serendipity.

Serendipity. A word not usually used in speech, but when it does poke its way into a conversation or a poem or a story, magic envelops the moment. You get a warm feeling inside as the meaning of the word trickles into your conscious: “An aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.” In other words, as Sara from the beloved movie Serendipity says, “a fortunate accident.” Just think of the possibilities! Rarely can one word stand the challenge of epitomizing a perfect idea, but serendipity does the job flawlessly. The word itself, as you say it, dances on your tongue. People describe it as one of their favorite words, sighing contently as it brings up nostalgic memories and the urge to create more.

So it is no coincidence, or maybe entirely, that I discovered the origin of serendipity in a book about Sri Lanka.

Yup. Sri Lanka. The little island on the southern tip of India that many people cannot place on a map. The island where I will be spending the first three months of my gap year.

The word holds its roots on the island. It was coined by a British writer/politician named Horace Walpole in the mid 1700s as an allusion to Serendip, an old name for Sri Lanka. The meaning of the word was inspired by a Sri Lankan fairy tale called The Three Princes of Serendip. While I was unable to find an original copy of the fairy tale, I did find an article by a man who summarizes it quite well, which you can read here in two parts (The summary starts after about the 15th paragraph).

Basically, the story talks about a king who sends his three sons on a journey to prove their sagacity and intelligence, and on the way, the princes make incredible discoveries on accident, discoveries they hadn’t set out to find. That is how one of the most favored and magical words of the English language was born.

It’s interesting how two things as unexpected as Sri Lanka and serendipity can be related. Most people don’t have any tie whatsoever to the little Asian island–now they do.

As for me, I was delighted to stumble upon the origin of the word. Serendipity plays largely into the theme of my blog, the desire to persuade one’s fate. I believe that there are pivotal things in our lives we can control– our attitude, our actions and reactions to circumstances, and so forth. And then there is fate. Those things we can’t control that find their way into the cracks and crevices of our lives. Those fortunate, and sometimes not so fortunate, accidents.

I had an enlightening conversation with my brother weeks ago about fate and decision making. He helped me understand the realization that everything happens because of the decisions everyone in life makes. We live our lives the way we do today because of the million upon millions of decisions every single person throughout history has ever made.  That made me begin to question if fate was actually real, or if life was simply circumstance. My brother believes in circumstance, in chance, and it’s incredible. I tried going down that route, but there was just something missing for me. Some things in life are so spectacular, whether in their simplicity or complexity, that I can’t help but think there is something more.

Fate, for me, is the culmination of everyone else’s decisions and how they impact my life. An adorable old woman compliments me at Goodwill, saying I have a great figure, and it makes me laugh and feel less self-conscious about my shorts which I could have sworn an hour ago made my thighs look a little thick. She was fate intervening in my life. I give a homeless man $20 and he buys himself a meal and doesn’t go hungry for a night. I was fate intervening in his life. In the end, yes, that old woman made a decision. I made a decision. But we persuaded fate for those people. We made the conscious decision to impact someone’s life forever without them having any control over it. That, in itself, is magical. Actually, it’s more than magic–we wish for super powers not realizing we already posses them.

So there it is. Serendipity. A tie to Sri Lanka, a testament to my gap year. Is my gap year serendipity? No, I made the conscious decision to apply to that. That was me persuading my own fate. But maybe serendipity was me opening the Chapel Hill brochure all those months ago and seeing the article about it, the article that so many of my classmates swear they never saw. The article that motivated me to pursue a life changing experience. Motivation that stemmed from growing up in a foreign family, from countless moves, from decisions I had no say in, and yet, that guided me to where I am today, on the brink of an incredible adventure.

So, here’s to the serendipity that awaits me starting September 5th, to the fate I will hopefully be persuading endlessly. I know Sri Lanka holds more treasures than I am able to imagine and I can’t wait to stumble upon them, accident or no accident.

People Are Just People (social experiment)

A fact about me: I like to think I’m artsy. Because of that fact, I have a wall in my room completely dedicated to quotes. At first, I thought I was epic (lol) for painting my room with anything I wanted. Today, I’ve basically memorized every quote on the wall and would be glad to give it a makeover. That being said, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how I interact with people in my everyday life. I’m a social person, but I don’t regularly search for interaction with people. I usually mind my own business in public, dishing out the occasional smile or greeting. This realization made me think: why? Why don’t I interact more with people? Humans are social creatures– why don’t we regularly ask strangers how their day has been? Why don’t I? And so, appropriately, a quote on my wall stood out to me as if I had never read it before:

And it kind of hit me. It’s so, so simple, and yet, a fault of mine. I grow nervous when I have to initiate interaction with strangers.

I was a little shocked at this realization. I’m about to leave on my gap year and one of my goals is to meet and interact with as many people as possible. How am I going to do that, in a foreign country where I don’t understand the language, if I can’t do it in my own town? And so I decided to put myself to the test.

 

Monday, July 7th: Sat next to a man named Creshaw (?) at the Uptown Transportation Center (aka bus station). A bus made a really strange wailing sound and he complained in good nature about how the fares were going up and yet they didn’t have properly functioning buses. I agreed with a laugh and sympathized with him. He later offered me some gum, and that small gesture opened up a door of communication for us. Things we talked about:

-How landing acting gigs in Charlotte was getting rough because they don’t do very much color blind casting.  How he wants to pursue acting in New York but can’t because his family moved down slowly and completely after 9/11 because it freaked them out so much, so he doesn’t have anyone to stay with. Said he likes to be comfortable when I suggested a hostel and I said I guess it depends how much you want it and what you’re willing to do for it.

-Huge, huge fan of the Braves and has been watching them for years. Played baseball and loves the game.

-Has a grandpa that he spent July 4th with and revealed that he is turning 100 years old. We contemplated the enormity of that accomplishment and the amount of things he had seen. He was in World War II. He still has a sharp mind and all he needs as a walking aid is his cane. Loves to garden and focus on architecture.

-Mother is Dominican, father is from NYC. Asked him if he spoke Spanish and he responded nah, but he wished he did. Said he knew “un poquito” and then added that I was “muy linda;” I chuckled and said, “Yeah, you got it down. The important parts at least,” and he laughed.

-Asked me for my number, turned it down nicely.

Appearance: dirty Charlotte Knights baseball cap, plain white t shirt with shorts and beat up sneakers. Back pack, African American, black freckles.

Tuesday, July 8th: Saw this guy sitting on a bench with his leg all wrapped up and in a cast with crutches. Walked past him and explored some of downtown. Came back around and he was sitting in a different place, next to a waterfall fountain. Walked past him again, made up my mind, drew up some courage, and turned around and approached him. Things we talked about:

How he was doing (he pointed at his leg). What happened? He broke it. How? He didn’t know, he was just walking and he fell and it broke right above his ankle. I cringed and told him about my brother and how he’d broken his ankle and it was so weak that when he was older he tore a ligament by just stepping on a rock and had to get it fixed with surgery. The guy said damn and he pointed at his own and said he needed surgery too. I said damn, I hope it goes well. I asked how long it would take to heal and he said 6 months. I said I hope he gets better soon! He said thank you, and I walked away.

I realize I didn’t introduce myself or get his name, but I said nice to meet you. I was pretty nervous, so I guess I forgot proper social etiquette (oops). But I didn’t get the vibe that I should tell him my name. Hopefully I’ll see him again. I think I told him the story about my brother’s injury because that’s the only connection I had to such a freak accident. And maybe there was another reason: to show him that freak accidents have happened to other people and that he isn’t alone. Was it comforting? I don’t know, probably not. But maybe, in some small way.

Appearance: semi-long red curly hair held back with a headband, curly red beard, light skinned with freckles, tall, black shirt and khaki shorts on, some tattoos on his arms and leg.

I realize now I should have asked him what he liked to do and what he does. Should have asked him to tell me his story. But I could tell he was a little confused as to why I was talking to him. I basically tried to pull a HONY (Humans of New York) except without the cool photo and fluid conversation.

Wednesday, July 9th: Argentina game almost KILLED ME but I survived and we’re moving on to the World Cup!!! Didn’t have time to talk to anyone today, but I did smile a lot at people I made eye contact with on the street (as I try to do all the time nowadays).

Thursday, July 10th: Sitting in the back of the bus reading when a boy, Charlie, sat next to me. He asked me to open his Dr. Pepper bottle because he was struggling. I tried, but I couldn’t open it (I swear the thing was like super glued shut, c’mon now Dr. P). He wasn’t deterred though, because he took the bottle back and struck up a conversation. I would say things we talked about, but really he talked the entire time:

-FIRETRUUCCKKSS. So many firetrucks. Volunteers at fire stations all the time and loves them. Took out a binder from his back pack and showed me pictures of them as he explained how many wheels they had, the length of their ladders, etc.

-Showed me a stuffed animal rhino he had just bought at a toy store. He really wants to go to South Africa to go on a safari.

-At one point he scooted over closer to me and gave me a hug and then gave me an “I ❤ Jesus” key chain because he felt lucky to have met such an awesome girl on the bus.

-We took a selfie, at his request on his phone, and then on mine:

-We ended up getting off at the same bus stop and we walked toward my car because he was walking the same way anyway. He gave me a pink plastic glove he had in his backpack (yeah, I don’t know) for being a special girl. I told him he was a sweetheart and accepted it with a smile.

Charlie has a small speech impairment and, unfortunately, it was pretty loud on the bus so I missed a lot of the things he said, but I enjoyed the conversation and his company regardless. He is the kind of person who makes you smile no matter what you’re talking about; unconditionally sweet and not afraid to talk about things passionately, something I greatly admire about him.

**Update 7/22/14: Three friends have told me that they know Charlie! They told me he carries pink gloves with him wherever he goes and gives them out to people– it’s like his signature thing. He also loves to take selfies with people, which he calls “Charlie’s Angels Selfies.”

Friday, July 11th: Visited a used book store and found myself wandering through the philosophy section. As I read different titles, a guy settled in next to me (!!!!!!!!!! If you remember my last post hahaha, go figure). I didn’t pay attention to him until he asked me what interested me about philosophy. I confessed I’d never read a book about philosophy but I did like to talk about philosophical things, so I figured I’d finally give the books a try. Things we talked about (more accurately, things he explained and revealed to me):

-He studies philosophy in his free time. He dropped out of college (he’s 22) to enter the military. Once there, he realized what the military was really about and knew it wasn’t for him. Said violence wasn’t for him. Works full time now.

-Mentioned that to understand philosophy and to get the best perspectives on it, people should read up on all types of subjects including economics, politics, history, and science. Said he has read quantum physics and has found it incredibly interesting. I laughed at this and said that was probably way over my head. He admitted to being a C student and that quantum physics really wasn’t that bad. He’s sure I could handle it. Well, alrighty then haha.

-Told me that humans are made up of 99.9999% space and that the trillions of atoms that make up our bodies have tiny black holes at their centers. Huh.

-Conveniently, the religion section was next to the philosophy section, so our conversation shifted to our beliefs. Told him I was Catholic but was in the stage where I question a lot of my beliefs and the beliefs of the Catholic Church and structured religions in general. He sympathized with me and shared with me this story:

There once was an old lion who lived in a cave near a forest. The old lion was alone, and because of his age, struggled to eat because the little creatures in the forest were too quick and he couldn’t catch them. One day though, he stumbled upon an injured bull and was able to hunt it down and eat it. The old lion was so satisfied and happy with his game that he released a great roar. Two hunters near by heard the roar, tracked the old lion down, and killed him.

Moral of the story? Don’t open your mouth if you’re full of bull.

I laughed and said touché. He went on to recommend two books which I bought because, well, why the hell not? I’m all about broadening my mind and exposing it to different things. He had to run after that, but said to facebook message him if I ever wanted to discuss philosophy. Maybe I will sometime, Jeff.

 

And with that, I concluded my week of interactions with people. Granted, I only initiated one of them, but by the time I met Jeff at the end of the week, I was actively participating in the conversation and I was genuinely curious. It’s also interesting to note that, even though I didn’t initiate the interactions, the week that I set out to interact with strangers was the week I did so the most. Merely being open to the idea made me aware that interactions happen all the time. I just have to be willing to pick up on them and run with them.

I also want to tie this into the title of my blog. Mi Andanza Persuadida. My persuaded fate. And maybe others’ as well. Like the guy I approached on Tuesday who was on crutches. Maybe my interaction with him didn’t change his attitude, but maybe it made him feel even slightly better that someone wished him a good recovery. It’s moments like that that everyone needs to be conscious of. It’s moments like when I got the courage to ask out a cute waiter at my favorite brunch restaurant and got rejected (he has a girlfriend, slightly bitter, he’s so cute!). Even though I talked to the broken leg guy for 30 seconds, maybe I impacted him in some way. He certainly gave me more confidence and showed me it’s okay to approach people. Even though I got rejected when asking out the waiter, it could have turned out differently. And maybe it will with the next boy, because you know what, fuck gender roles.

It’s moments like that which make me excited, because we have the power to change our lives and the lives of others in unimaginable ways. People, after all, are merely people much like you and I; they shouldn’t make us nervous. All we need to say is a little more than hello.

La Biblioteca

Today, I found myself going somewhere I hadn’t gone in years.

The library.

Now, I don’t count my high school’s library considering I’d go in there for class and such. I count going to a library outside of school out of my own free will. And it happened. Today.

I was in the hunt for books about Sri Lanka and Indonesia. I’d done enough research on the internet and I decided I wanted actual books about the countries, figuring it would be a nice change. Now, I used to go to the library as a kid all the time. The library was my place.

So, it was a surprise to find that once I walked through the doors, I felt like a complete stranger. This feeling was solidified by the woman at the front desk who gingerly told me that what I was searching for were travel books and that they’d be found in the 900s. Only after looking at her blankly did she point and say “upstairs.” I felt like an airhead. For someone who loves books as much as I do, how could I feel like a stranger? I thought I’d feel at home among the shelves that held thousands of pages, but that wasn’t the case. It was sad, really. I realized what a simple and yet, in my opinion, underused resource the library is. Sure, there were plenty of people there. But I found myself alone wandering through the book cases. All the teenagers and adults were sitting at tables, absorbed by their computers or studying. None of them even noticed me walking around.

After searching through the sections the woman had directed me to, I wasn’t completely satisfied with the books I’d found, so I took to the computers. I searched some keywords and wrote down two codes– J959.8 for a book about Indonesia and J954.93 for a book about Sri Lanka. The numbers were close to where I had been searching before, so I went back, but I didn’t find the books. Finally, I went to another lady and showed her the codes. This woman nicely pointed out that the “J” in front of the numbers stood for “juvenile” and that I’d find the books in the kids’ section downstairs. Wow. Duh.

And so, my search led me back to the place I used to go to all the time as a child. I felt a little self conscious among the children and their parents, but at the same time, it felt more familiar. It was refreshing to see moms and dads with their kids sitting and reading at the tables. I followed the decimal system and was delighted to find the books I’d been searching for. They were colorful and some were published by good ol’ Scholastic. They were, yes, exactly the kind of research books everyone used in elementary school when given a project about a country. I hauled over a total of eight books to one of the kids tables and sat down to read.

Here are some interesting things I discovered while skimming through the books:

Indonesia

1. Indonesia is home to the world’s largest and smelliest flower, the Titan Arum, which looks like this:

What does it smell like you ask? Rotting mammal corpses. Lovely.

2. Selemat jalan! means “Happy traveling!” in Bahasa Indonesian, which is the national language. The language itself has no genders, words sound as they are spelled, and they use the Roman alphabet.

3. Mt. Krakatoa came up quite a few times as there was a tragic eruption in 1883 that killed many people. Consequently, I’m not proud to say that when I first read Krakatoa, that incident didn’t come to mind. Instead, this did:

For those of you who remember this episode, you know it was one of the best Spongebob episodes ever created. Every time Squidward screamed “KRAKATOOAAA,” he would erupt. Is it insensitive to laugh about it?

4. THIS EXISTS IN INDONESIA:

IT’S A MOUSE DEER. WHAT. HAHAHAHAHAHA WHAAAATTT?!?! I had myself a good, hardy laugh that drew the attention of a few parents; I couldn’t help it. I’ve officially made it my mission to find one of these things in the wild in Indonesia (I’m still laughing).

Sri Lanka

1. The “Head Woggle” = to say ‘yes,’ the head moves from side to side with a down-up, not a sharp left-right, movement.

If someone wants to explain to me that motion, or better yet, show me, that would be much appreciated.

2. Galle (where I’ll be living) is on the southwestern coast and is a natural harbor. Closenburg, which is in Galle, is apparently a “swimmer’s paradise.” (omg yes yes yeeeessss)

3. There’s a traditional game where two players sit astride a pole, with one hand behind their backs, and swing at each other with pillows until one of the players is knocked off. Aka, a traditional game in Sri Lanka is an intense pillow fight. Hell yes.

4. Elephants are an abundance in Sir Lanka:

Look at them, just lounging in the water. Definitely plan on visiting an orphanage and hopefully riding an elephant!

All right, so I realize what I posted isn’t the most helpful information, but I do plan on (and am excited to) delve deeper into these books. After the quick skim, I left the kids’ section with the eight books in tow and headed to the check out desk. While I was in line, I panicked slightly– how many books was I allowed to check out at once? I tentatively asked the lady at the front desk and she answered “99.” It took me a second, and then I laughed and she laughed too. It got slightly more awkward when I tried to use the self check out to find that my library card had expired. Looooool.

Finally, I made my way out with my arms full of books and a goofy smile on my face. Sure, my experience at the library was interesting, but I enjoyed it none the less. I promised I’d be back soon enough (as if I have a choice– I have to return my books before  July 11th, if not they’re overdue!) and made my way to my car, excited and fulfilled.

The eight books I checked out

Confession: Something I’ve thought about before and fantasize about. How amazing would it be to be minding your own business at the library, looking through some books, to have a (hopefully cute) guy come up to you and strike up a conversation about what you’re looking at? You could talk about the latest books you two have read, discuss favorite authors, he could even recommend a book and cleverly write his number on your check out receipt… WHY CAN’T WOMEN GET PICKED UP AT LIBRARIES. OR BOOKSTORES. SCREW THE MARTINI, BUY ME A BOOK. Get me drunk off your knowledge, I’ll go with you much more willingly. Ugh.

Now, that. That would be sexy. Hey, a girl can dream.

 

Graduation, the World Cup, and Some Backpacks

On  June 12th, last Thursday, two events occurred, one more important than the other.

1. My high school graduation

2. The start of the World Cup in Brasil

Take a guess which one was the more important one..

Graduation

Being done with high school is surreal; I watched my two older siblings go through it and I thought “Ha, that’s so far away for me.” And yet, as it always does, the day arrived, and every day it hits me a little bit more. Gone forever is the same monotonous routine and I couldn’t be happier. The minute I threw my cap in the air when our principal dubbed us graduates and I hugged my friends around me, I felt relief and a certain freedom. It also marks the transition into my “limbo” aka the few months before I embark on my gap year. This limbo will be consumed by work, pre-departure shenanigans, and of course, the glorious World Cup.

The World Cup

4 YEARS I (AND THE REST OF THE WORLD) HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS AND IT’S FINALLY HERE!!!! Do I consider it sad that I was more excited for the start of an international futbol tournament than my own high school graduation? Not at all. I consider it almost an honor to graduate on the same day as the start of the World Cup, and what a World Cup it has been so far! Netherlands with the 5-1 revenge, Costa Rica with the impressive upset, Switzerland with the last second goal… There’s nothing that gets me going like futbol (my incessant and surely annoying twitter commentary of almost every game is proof of this). I don’t understand how people, especially in the US, don’t get excited over the World’s favorite sport. The atmosphere, the feeling of patriotism, the indescribable joy of your team scoring a goal… If anything, the players themselves! I mean, sure Spain got CRUSHED by the Netherlands, but man did they look good doing so. Have you seen their players?! Seriously, check out this glorious Buzzfeed post, I assure you it will not be disappointing.

Some (awesome) Backpacks

Perk of graduating: family coming to visit. Even better perk? Having the coolest older siblings who consequently have jobs and love to travel as much as I do. That fabulous perk got me these beauties:

65 L Osprey Backpack

20 L Camelbak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To say the least, I was excited:

Creds to my sister for snapping this!

 

Now, I am completely new to these types of backpacks, so another thank you to my siblings who popped my REI cherry and helped me look like I slightly knew what I was doing in that store. My gap year keeps becoming more and more real, and these backpacks have just cemented the idea that I will be living out of a cumulative 85 L of space. Kind of a downsize.

Today, I decided to take a little adventure with the Camelbak (and my Argentina jersey, of course), which will serve as my day pack, to get a feel for it. I filled it up with an excessive amount of books, clothing, a pair of shoes, and a rubix cube (?), along with filling up the water pouch, and set off into the woods by my house. My adventure consisted of an impressive amount of indescreet selfies:

The family that was so intrigued by their swimming dog they didn’t even hear me sneak up. Is that weird?

Cute selfie with the couple walking through the woods

Kudos to this couple that just carried their kids on their backs

A few things I learned on this walk:

1. Snakes are creepily mesmerizing and I still become paralyzed with shock every time I come across one.
2. Squirrels really don’t like to take selfies.
3. WHY WOULD I LEAVE MY HOUSE WITHOUT A HAIR-TIE IN 90 DEGREE WEATHER (aka definitely something to remember when I’m abroad)
4. Just because I have a Camelbak with a pouch filled with water and it’s so cool and convenient to have a little hose that you suck on to get the water does NOT mean I need to drink all the water right away. Uuff, too much liquid.

In conclusion, the backpack is awesome. I walked about two miles and the weight never became a burden. This is due to the fact that when I wear the pack, instead of baring the weight on my shoulders and back, it sits on my hips. Whoever designed these packs–GENIUS. Why aren’t school backpacks made in this way?! I’ve been carrying books wrong my entire life. Sheesh.

So. Major shout out to my siblings, I love them way too much. And now I’m currently watching Messi warm up on the field in Brasil. Kickoff time is so close and I am SO READY.

VAMOOOOOSSSSS AL ALBICELESTE!

 

P.s.– Good luck to Lee Mook, one of my fellow Gappers who started his gap year T O D A Y. He’s on his way to Nicaragua as we speak to work on solar powered water distillers. Check out his blog on the “Fellowship + the Gappers” tab!

P.p.s– Happy Father’s Day everyone (:

What is happiness?

I have no intention to answer that question.

But, I did just spend the past two days mulling it over in my brain; that included reading up on some Albert Camus (I recommend his essay “The Myth of Sisyphus” if you’re up for some deep thinking) and watching the documentary “Happy” (on Netflix, by the way).

Camus, in an article I read (which you can read here), said: “Those who prefer their principles over their happiness, they refuse to be happy outside the conditions they seem to have attached to their happiness. If they are happy by surprise, they find themselves disabled, unhappy to be deprived of their unhappiness.”

Unhappy to be deprived of their unhappiness? Whaaat.

Well, think about it. How often do we create structures of what happiness should be and look like? I know I’m guilty of it. I’ll think, “If I can get an A on this test, I will be happy.” It seems trivial, I know, but happiness shouldn’t be treated like a destination. There is no algorithm for happiness, no step by step process to reach it. Sometimes, we are so preoccupied in finding and fulfilling those steps that we become distracted. So, when we do find happiness, we reject it because we do not recognize it for what it is. We confine ourselves to what we believe happiness should be, instead of accepting it for what it is.

One of the psychologists who spoke in the documentary said that happiness, like being able to surf or ride a unicycle, is a skill. He also mentioned that happy people aren’t happy all the time (duh), but that they are better at dealing with, and getting over, sadness (Oohhh).

Get this: Other psychologists in the documentary did some research and compiled it into this nifty little pie graph.

They found that 50% of our happiness comes from a set point–it’s usually always there–that we obtain from our genes (high five, mom and dad). Now, what is a leeeetttllleee shocking, is that our circumstances only contribute to 10% of our happiness (!!!). Kind of hard to believe, right? The other 40% is all up to intentional activity–the things we choose to do in our every day lives, our attitude towards it, etc. Now, that’s a little mind blowing.

Some clarification: I’m not trying to spit out the cliched “money can’t buy you happiness” crap, because that’s not the point. What I find interesting is how much power we hold in our happiness.

And so with that, I thought to myself, am I happy? And, I’m satisfied to say that, yeah, I really think I am. My life is at an incredible place right now. I have so many things to look forward too in the future, as well as things I’m enjoying now in the present. I’m not thinking “Oh, when I leave for my gap year, that’s when I’ll be happy.” Nope. The cultivation of my happiness starts now.

And honestly, I can’t wait to see how it changes and diverges in the future. I realize that I’ll have tough times ahead. Everything isn’t always going to be rainbows and butterflies, but compromise (10 points if you got that reference).

All I know is that I’ll get through those times, and hopefully, be a better, more satisfied person in the end.