No Journey Wasted

The one thing you can control

2012-02-17T13:11:00.001-06:00

I just saw this on Facebook and cringed. This is so NOT my philosophy in life and, in fact, I think it's wrong on so many levels. If you want to live on an emotional roller coaster and allow yourself to be ruled by the whims of others, subscribe to the perspective espoused below....

But notice that many individuals whom society regards as successful, fulfilled, and positively influential have taken the opposite approach:

"Nothing can stop the man with the right mental attitude from achieving his goal; nothing on earth can help the man with the wrong mental attitude." - Thomas Jefferson

"Happiness doesn't depend on any external conditions, it is governed by our mental attitude."
- Dale Carnegie

"The greatest discovery of all time is that a person can change his future by merely changing his attitude." - Oprah Winfrey

"We cannot change our past. We can not change the fact that people act in a certain way. We can not change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude." - Charles R. Swindoll

"I am still determined to be cheerful and happy, in whatever situation I may be; for I have also learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends upon our dispositions, and not upon our circumstances." - Martha Washington
"The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitudes." - William James

"Attitude is a little thing that makes a big difference." - Winston Churchill

Your attitude is one of the very few things in life that you actually do have the power to control. Why in the world would you give that up!??

Mémoire

2012-02-16T01:50:00.000-06:00

Je viens de trouver ce petit essaie que j'ai écrit au but de mon séjour à Bruxelles. C'est incroyable que ça fait déjà presque 5 ans que j'ai quitté la Belgique, mais j'ai eu la bonne chance de rendre visite déjà une fois - l'année passée - et j'y rentre dans deux semaines!

Cela est un bon reflection sur le temps passé là-bas; je pense que c'est évident que c'est voyage à été pendant une période tellement important pour le développement personnel et confiance en soi.

« Je descends de l’avion avec tous les autres. Je suis prête avec mon passeport et mon visa. Après plus de vingt heures sur l’avion il me semblait que le moment n’arriverait jamais. Mais voilà, je suis là. Fatiguée, même épuisée, j’essaie de garder un esprit d’aventure.

Sortant du bureau de la douane, je rentre dans une salle pleine de gens qui semblent parler mille langues différentes, dont je ne connais aucune. Un groupe m’approche, ils me rattrapent, ils m’embrassent chacun à son tour. Je suis surprise, étonnée : pourquoi sont-ils aussi intimes ? Je ne les jamais vus auparavant ! Je compte huit personnes, ce doit être ma nouvelle famille. Ils semblent sympas, mais je ne comprends qu’un ou deux mots de chaque phrase. Après quelques minutes je les suis dehors. Dans le parking je suis perdue. Je vois des milliers de voitures, toutes tellement petites qu’elles paraissent appartenir à une maison de poupée, à un monde de poupée. C’est quoi ces marques ? J’ai l’impression d’être sur une autre planète.

En voiture je me retrouve coincée entre deux sièges d’enfant. Les petits s’énervent quand je ne réponds pas aux deux cents questions qu’ils me lancent toutes à la fois. J’essaie de réciter quelque chose, n’importe quoi suffirait à ce point, mais ils s’ennuient et commencent à se chamailler. Cela fait 35 heures que je n’ai pas dormi, et ma maison, ma famille, ma vie semblent être à l’autre bout du monde. »

Voilà, un extrait de mon journal au temps de mon arrivée en Belgique. Je n’avais jamais voyagé hors d’Amérique du Nord avant ce jour-là, et j’étais tellement choquée par ce nouveau monde. Pendant la première journée, et les neuf mois qui suivraient, chaque petite découverte quotidienne m’intégrerait dans la culture européenne. En y réfléchissant, il y a trois phases bien définies que j’ai connues cette année.

La première étape est un sentiment d’excitation, accompagné par le choc culturel. J’ai été inondée d’une façon de vivre toute nouvelle. Je ne savais pas encore si j’aimais ce changement, mais l’esprit de l’inconnu donnait à la vie une nouvelle intrigue. Cette période a duré trois mois, pendant lesquels je me suis habituée à un nouvel horaire, un nouveau régime et des nouvelles activités.

Je me suis retrouvée dans une situation dans laquelle j’ai été réduite à être un bébé. Pendant toute sa vie on développe des compétences de survie dans une culture donnée, pour s’adapter à une société au fur et à mesure qu’elle change et développe elle-même. Mais quand on est jeté dans une autre société, toute nouvelle et inconnue, c’est difficile de savoir où commencer. Ce phénomène existe à plusieurs niveaux. J’ai utilisé la société comme exemple, mais cela m’est arrivé à la maison, à l’école, etc. Bref, pendant cette première phase on est un peu perdu mais assez distrait par toutes ces nouvelles expériences, si bien que ce n’est pas embêtant.

Pour moi la deuxième phase était la pire. Après trois mois je n’étais pas contente de mes progrès en français, et cela me frustrait. J’étais toujours aussi timide à l’école comme le début, et je n’avais pas d’amis du même genre qu’aux Etats-Unis. Je sentais que ma personnalité avait complètement changé ; je n’étais plus une joyeuse petite fille qui adorait la vie et tout ce qui est dedans. Toutes les petites découvertes du nouveau monde étaient devenues vielles ; cela ne m’intéressait plus. Il y avait encore tellement de choses que je ne comprenais pas en français et il semblait que la facilité d’élocution n’arriverait jamais. Je ne voulais plus être en Belgique où il pleuvait tous les jours sans soleil. Mon anniversaire s’est passé en novembre, et puis ma fête préférée « Thanksgiving » qu’on ne fête même pas ici. Je ne pensais qu’à ma propre famille et à ma vie ancienne. Tout d’un coup, je me souvenais de toutes les choses que j’avais laissées là-bas, et cela m’a déprimé de plus en plus. C’était ce jour-là que je me suis rendu compte de tous ces changements qui avaient eu lieu à l’intérieur de moi au cours des mois qui précédaient et je ne les aimais pas du tout.

Alors je me suis replongée dans la réalité et j’ai décidé que ce n’est pas trop tard de profiter de la Belgique. Je me suis forcée à m’engager dans ma famille d’accueil et à l’école malgré mes craintes. J’ai fourni encore plus d’efforts en français. Même que j’étais gênée quand je faisais des fautes en conversation, je savais que cela devrait s’améliorer après un certain temps. Et puis est venu le jour où je suis rentrée dans le salon, me suis mise devant la télévision, et ai tout à fait compris. Après tout, j’étais si fière d’avoir atteint mon plus grand but de cette année.

Ce jour-là la troisième étape est arrivée. J’ai passé Noël avec ma grande famille belge et c’était vraiment magnifique. J’étais incluse dans toutes les traditions et festivités, traitée exactement comme les autres enfants. Même que j’avais l’habitude de passer cette semaine importante avec ma famille naturelle, j’étais d’accord d’être loin d’eux cette année parce que je sentais que j’appartenais à une nouvelle famille ici.

En avril mes parents sont venus des Etats-Unis me rendre visite pendant trois semaines. J’ai eu le plaisir de les présenter à ma famille belge, mais j’avais du mal à m’exprimer dans ma langue maternelle. Non seulement je parle le français maintenant, mais je pense en français aussi ! Lors de ces trois semaines je me suis retrouvée presque aussi confondue et perdue qu’au début de cette année. J’avais pour le moment quatre parents et chacun attendait quelque chose de différent de moi. Mais cette fois je savais bien mieux que la dernière fois. Je leur ai dit mon problème, à tous les quatre. Et voilà le problème résolu.

Maintenant j’arrive au bout de mes derniers trois mois en Belgique. Il me reste encore plein de choses à faire, mais je suis déjà contente de mon expérience. Même si j’ai passé deux mois assez horribles, les autres compensent plus qu’il ne faut. J’ai eu des opportunités de voyager et découvrir un monde que je n’aurais jamais pu imaginer. Je me suis fait des amis dont la gentillesse et l’amitié resteront avec moi pour toujours. Dans un sens j’ai découvert d’autres côtés de moi.

Aujourd’hui j’ai un nouveau dilemme ; j’ai deux familles auxquelles j’appartiens presque également. Je me réjouis de rejoindre ma propre famille et ma vie aux Etats-Unis, mais ce sera dur de quitter cette merveilleuse famille belge qui m’aura accueilli pendant mon séjour. Ils m’ont accompagnée dans un voyage très spécial- je ne l’oublierai jamais !

Women: Natural Entrepreneurs?

2012-02-07T17:54:00.001-06:00

The author of a blog dedicated to earning passive income online recently wrote about the strength of women entrepreneurs in a post titled Why Women Do So Well Starting Businesses. I can't find a name on the site, but judging by the site design, content, and writing style, I'm guessing this blogger is male.

He claims women are predisposed to be great "entrepreneurettes" -- as I've dubbed them -- for several reasons.

Historically women have been independent (managing the home alone) while men have been off working in groups (hunting, fighting, etc.)
....he seems to be asserting that self-starting is now in our genes or social fabric.
Women are more comfortable asking for help.
Women are more accustomed to tasks that are "meticulous and repetitive."
The author cites food preparation and sewing. I think a better description is "detail oriented."
Women have more experience facing adversity.

The underlying thesis is that all of the above traits or skills are useful and/or necessary to start and run a business. My question for other women: What do you think of this blogger's assessment? What other gender-specific traits or experiences present advantages or disadvantages for women entrepreneurs?

Empty Me

2012-02-07T09:25:00.000-06:00

"...of the selfishness inside, every vain ambition, and the poison of my pride..."

Empty Me by Chris Sligh on Grooveshark

Next Stop: Rotterdam, Netherlands

2012-02-03T09:44:00.000-06:00

Almost exactly one year since I last visited Holland, I'll touch down once again in the flat, beautiful, windmill-dotted lowlands just three weeks from today. My arrival in the Netherlands will mark the beginning of a multi-continental voyage sure to be filled with adventure, challenges, camaraderie, and memorable experiences.

In case you didn't hear...

Belmont University has a team that has qualified for the final round of the 2012 Network of International Business Schools (NIBS) Worldwide Case competition in Rotterdam, Netherlands.
College of Business Administration students Ayesha Ghaffar, Rami Nofal, Jordan Holt and Shirah Foy will compete at the Kralingse Zoom in Rotterdam from Feb. 26 to March 2. They are among the “10 best teams in the world” who will face off at NIBS to come up with solutions for a strategic business problem. Each team will have four hours to prepare a case without outside help. Their presentations will be assessed by a jury of professional and academic experts.
This will be the second international business case competition for Belmont’s team, which previously participated in the Eighth Annual Center for International Business Education and Research Case Challenge in October.
Click here to read more on the 2012 NIBS Worldwide Case competition.

I have had the pleasure to work with one of my teammates, Rami Nofal, over the past few years as we've helped build up Belmont's International Business Society. Rami is our team's macro-economic specialist, while Ayesha is the finance whiz, Jordan brings great marketing skills and creative thinking, and I'm the "pull it all together" person. It's been so much fun working with all of them, and I'm so excited that our wonderful, always-encouraging faculty advisor, Dr. Marieta Velikova, will be accompanying us to the finals!

There is much more than scholarly activities on the itinerary - this is sure to be an amazing networking opportunity, filled with sightseeing, great conversations, myriad learning experiences, and international business exposure. What a neat opportunity to participate in such a competition during my last semester!

A Few 'Lies' & the Truth About Creativity

2012-01-21T08:02:00.000-06:00

I have more than enough work to keep me busy 24 hours day for the next several months, but if there's one thing I learned last semester, it's this: A little time to reflect, relax, and simply think renews my enthusiasm for my work and sends my productivity skyrocketing.

Jon Acuff

So before I start the two papers I will write this afternoon, I want to share a few words of wisdom that I
heard yesterday during Jon Acuff's visit to Belmont. Jon is the guy who started a blog called Stuff Christians Like - a hilarious spin-off of the comical Stuff White People Like blog. But beyond making a name for himself in the blog world (Belmont's write-up of the event stated that Jon's blog is read by "2 million people in over 97 percent of the countries in the world"), Jon has authored a few books and honed his talent for public speaking. He was brought to campus this week by Belmont's Center for Entrepreneurship to speak on Five Lies Entrepreneurs Should Ignore for Success.

I was laughing too hard to write down or remember all five of the "lies", but there were certainly a few points that stuck out for me.

First, Jon redefined creativity for me. I know that I fall prey to one of the "lies" which people tell themselves and which eventually hold them back, this one being: "I'm not creative enough." Belmont is an incredible bubble, teeming with creative individuals in all disciplines. From songwriters to performers to painters and poets, I'm constantly awestruck and inspired by my friends' and classmates'. The passion and creativity embodied in their artistic pursuits is one of reasons I came to Belmont, but I must admit that sometimes I look around and think, "How can I compete with this?" I've never seen myself as a source of raw creativity -- at least not in the sense of artistic talent -- so while it's inspiring to immerse myself in an imaginative college environment, it's also a bit intimidating. Which brings me to another "lie" Jon talked about: one he calls the "lie of comparison." We look around and see people who are accomplished, creatives, and successful by our standards, and then look back at ourselves and think, "Who am I to do this? What makes me think I can do it as well as any of these great people?" It's not something I dwell on, but I've certainly had thoughts like these before.

The way Jon talked about creativity was really encouraging for people like me. He used the definition of creativity written by a well-known female author whom I can't name, but the implications behind her perspective on creativity definitely stuck.

Creativity comes from a wild mind with a disciplined eye.

I might not have a wildest mind, but I think I have developed a somewhat disciplined eye, and when I find an idea I like, I'm crazy enough to believe I can make it work - no matter how wild it might seem. Steve Jobs once said, "The people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do." And while I'm not so sure how wide-reaching the impact of my work and ideas will be, I guess I'm crazy enough to think that I can change some things, starting with myself. I've set off on grand adventures more than a few times with the intention of growing myself and serving my new neighbors, and I have been amazed at just how much has been changed in the process -- not only in my own life, but in the lives of the people I've met and interacted with along the way.

Jon outlined three parts to creativity. You can remember them with the acronym ICE: Imagine, Capture, Execute. I'm going to work on the Imagine phase, but I think I've got Execute down. My mom will tell you that my first word was "door" -- not "mom," not "dad", but "door." I go, I do, I see, I plan, I execute. That's how I seem to consistently find myself in countries, jobs, hobbies, and friendships which, to some, are unfathomable. [Speaking of which, my summer plans aren't quite blog-ready, but when the big reveal happens, I think you'll like it!]

As stereotypical as it might sound, one of the ways I've matured the most during college is in learning the true value of working in teams. I used to abhor group work because in every single group to which I had been assigned throughout my academic career I had been the one that cared the most about the final product. Therefore I worked the hardest, and many of my teammates morphed into social loafers. But coming into Belmont's Honors Program changed that. For the first time, I found people who cared about their work just as much as I, and together we've produced some great papers, projects, and presentations during the past four years. The best part of this process has been learning each others' strengths and weaknesses, likes, and interests. The Honor's Program's emphasis on turning each student into an expert in his or her field helped my classmates and I to zero in on our individual, unique skills and talents; once those had been identified, we didn't hold back in using them to the advantage of our group and our grades. I've learned that my natural strengths are in strategy, organization, planning, and integrating all the components of a project into a cohesive whole. I'm able to "make war against distractions," as Jon said we must in order to successfully Execute. That being said, it's been such a neat opportunity to partner with people who have "wild minds" - the dreamers, artists, inventors and innovators. Our ability to collectively Imagine, Capture, and Execute has impressed all of us.

Having narrowed down the part of the creativity equation that needs some work for me personally (i.e. imagination), I latched onto something Jon said a little later: "Make thinking time valuable time. Be deliberate and put a value on thinking. We expect to do amazing things without thinking about them." How true it is! I blogged about my time crisis and over-packed schedule at the height of my collegiate insanity last semester, and I am glad to report that since then I've resigned from a few jobs and positions in an attempt to escape from being a slave to my schedule. Now my calendar works for me - not the other way around!

I was invited to join a round table lunch discussion with Jon and ten other students & faculty after Jon's talk. It was a neat time to learn a little bit more about him, as well as my classmates' projects and Jon's insight and advice in that regard.

Success

2012-01-05T09:05:00.000-06:00

To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded!
- Emerson

One Last Lesson in 2011

2011-12-31T17:21:00.000-06:00

I've always pushed myself academically, physically, psychologically, intellectually, and professionally; not because I've felt pressure from others to do so, but simply because I know that I am capable of doing more and doing better. It's only right, I feel. My thinking is that if I've been given the ability to do something, then I should give it my best effort. Giving it anything less would be ungrateful.

Operating under such a theory can get you pretty far, but there comes a point when you realize you're just doing too much - or at least too much to be effective in any one pursuit. And toward the end of 2011, this is the point I reached. My schedule had me spread too thin to do much of anything very well, and I was no longer able to put as much effort as I wanted into any one task because there was always a list of thirty more behind it, all needing to be completed by sundown. The self-inflicted pressure has started to wear on me, to say the least, and I've realized during the past few weeks that I need to stop feeling guilty about taking a little time to relax. In fact, I've found that some time off during the past few days has rejuvenated me and boosted my motivation and productivity during work time.

One evening in mid-December it hit me that I only have about a month to get my grad school applications together, and that's on top of starting my last semester and finishing my thesis, as well as preparing for job interviews (in case I don't get into either graduate program).
The worst part is preparing for the GMAT -- a big hairy standardized test that basically serves as the SAT for business school. Even though my practice test last month put me in the 99th percentile for the verbal section, my quantitative scores were down in the 33rd percentile in Arithmetic Permutations and as low as the 13th percentile in Algebra. I was feeling overwhelmed and defeated and certainly not confident that I could pull my quantitative scores up enough to qualify for either of the programs I'm applying to. I've taken the absolute minimum number of math classes in college and avoid equations at all costs. I mean, isn't it enough that I learned all the equations and mathematical principles needed to get an A in Finance?! The GMAT appears to be a death sentence for my grad school applications.

I'm generally not a complainer, so I think my half-hour rant about everything I have to do and how certain I am of failing made it pretty clear that something was bothering me. My mom came up later and said to me, "Hey, don't worry, everything's going to be fine. We're all proud of you and whatever you choose to do, we're going to be happy for you as long as you're happy." That did make me feel better, but I also realized that what everyone else thought wasn't my first concern - the reason I was feeling so disappointed is because I felt like I was letting myself down, not them. I've always known my parents and family love me and are proud of me, and perhaps that's why the most pressure comes from my own idea of success. It's time for me to redefine some goals, though, because right now they're too broad and open-ended. I'm going crazy trying to be prepared for every opportunity, when I haven't even decided which one I really want to pursue.

Yesterday my mom (being the crazy math-loving aeronautical engineer that she is) took my sister and I to Barnes & Noble to help me study for the GMAT. Hunkered down in the back corner of the book store, my sister finished the last of Romeo and Juliet while I worked tirelessly through a review of math basics, and my mom stood by as an on-call math tutor while flipping through art and design magazines. She was reading through a few quotes in a garden craft section when suddenly she leaned over,
"Oh, this is good one..."

We can do no great things,
only small things with great love.
-Mother Teresa

I've thought about these words several times since yesterday, and each time I'm touched by the way she subtly emphasizes that it's not so much about what we do, but how we do it. I'm always going to push myself to my limits, I'm sure - it's just my personality - but I'm learning that there are times to stop, breathe, relax, and remember what really makes a life great.

Welcome to the New, Flat World

2011-12-22T10:42:00.000-06:00

Thomas Friedman, political journalist--turned 21st century philosopher, brings us his thought-provoking thesis on globalization in this video from MIT.
I've read several chapters of his revolutionary book, The World is Flat, as well as most of another, The Lexus and the Olive Tree.

In an Information Systems for Business course I took last semester, I was challenged to think about the following questions while listening to Friedman's lecture. These are themes I'd been periodically mulling over for a while, so I welcomed this opportunity to draw a few conclusions and support them with anecdotes from my own experience.

Whatdoes a flattened world mean for you as a student looking foremployment in the near future?
Aflattened world puts each of us as individuals in direct competitionwith the rest of the world for jobs. As Thomas Friedman mentioned,everything can be (and is being) outsourced.

Radiology screening andx-ray analysis, tax returns, manufacturing, customer service –these are all examples of industries that have massive workforces incountries other than the one in which they deliver product andprovide services. My generation is thus tasked with developing somekind of competitive advantage, something that will set us apart fromthe millions of people who may offer to do our job for half (or even1/10^th)the paycheck. A student or recent grad going into an interviewshould ask him/herself: Whyshould this person hire me instead of someone in India, Mexico, orThailand? What are all the skills that I bring to the table, and howcan I expand and develop these? Wewill have to sell ourselves as the complete package, or at least“good enough” in a variety of areas in order to compete withworkers in other countries who have only one area of expertise.

What can you, as a student, do to prepare for a flattened world?
I was intrigued by Friedman's remark that the only way we will thrive, going forward into the workforce, is to develop two or more specialties and apply one to the other. This is a shout-out to the well-rounded individual – a call for versatile, flexible, and adaptable employees. I came to this same conclusion myself several years ago, when I moved to Brussels, Belgium. During the twelve months that I lived and studied in Belgium, I learned French fluently and through that experience discovered that my entire knowledge base had virtually doubled in size – simply because now I could communicate it all in two languages. Having returned this autumn from eight months in Russia/Ukraine, I now speak Russian competently and am thrilled to be able to apply these language skills to my knowledge and work experience in the arena of politics and business. As I complete my thesis based on research in the former Soviet Union, I find it invaluable to be able to communicate with researchers, academics, and business contacts in Russia and Ukraine – in their native language, of course. And my interaction with others is becoming more horizontal (as opposed to vertical), just as Friedman stresses that it must. I don't have to go through a translator, or even a professor. Thanks to email, I can send a note off to the provost, dean, and even president of Russian universities, introducing myself and proposing research collaboration. This is just one example, but I think that it is a prime illustration of Friedman's message put to action.

What role will technology play in a flattened world?

If the world is now super-wired, connected, horizontal, and ruled by communication, then technology is key. It does, and will continue to be, instrumental in doing everything from keeping in touch with family and friends to completing business transactions. As humans, our most precious commodity is time, so any technology that can increase productivity, speed up transactions and free up time will be embraced and utilized in our every-day life. In my opinion, it is imperative for students to become fluent in the language of technology; to be able to manipulate – and even create - programs and platforms to meet their unique and changing needs.
I'd like to bring in Friedman's point about imagination becoming the ultimate competitive advantage and note that today's ever-advancing technologies allow us to more aptly and more quickly realize every facet of our imagination than ever before. There is almost nothing that cannot be created these days – electronically and virtually, if not physically. If you can dream it up, it can become a reality. Or so it seems. The West is irrevocably dependent on technology and there's no going back. A successful student will be one that recognizes this and prepares him/herself to thrive in a career dominated by technology.

Jackie Evancho

2011-12-14T00:57:00.002-06:00

Everyone knows I have a soft spot for child prodigies. The raw talent of these individuals blows my mind on a regular basis. This little girl simply takes my breathe away!

Miniature opera sensation Jackie Evancho was discovered on America's Got Talent a few years ago. Here's her latest performance - at the Wall Street Journal's Christmas Party. Here's the catch: She's 11 years old!

Want to see more? Google "Jackie Evancho" - and prepare to be amazed :)

2011: Where We've Been

2011-12-06T14:20:00.001-06:00

After work one Friday, a few weeks ago, I literally collapsed. I sat down on my living room couch around 6pm - for what seemed like the first time in ages - and within minutes had fallen asleep. At 9am the next day I finally awoke, figured out where I was, and was astonished to realize how tired I had become.

I started to piece two and two together when thinking about the past year in review, as I always tend to do when December 1st comes around. I've covered so many thousands of miles this year, and I'm so thankful for all for your notes of encouragement and support through all the journeys. Let's see where we've been!

Belgium...I was here with my beloved Belgian host family the entire, wonderful month of January. What an incredible time to rekindle old friendships and reminisce on the life-changing experiences I shared with them in 2006-2007.
Spain...Meeting up with old friends from my exchange year in Belgium was one of the highlights of my travels in western Europe this year. Victoria, from Britain, was studying abroad in Zaragoza, Spain this spring and invited me to visit!
the Netherlands....Hadrien, another friend from my Belgian high school, was studying in Nijmegen, Holland. My favorite part of the trip with Hadrien was our visit to the Van Gogh Museum and exploring Amsterdam, Nijmegen, and the Hague on foot.
Russia...I survived falling icicles, crazy drivers, and an overnight train with some drunken sailors. I also got to visit a few of the world's most beautiful feats of architecture and mingle with some of the most incredible ballet dancers on earth! Simply unforgettable.
Finland...Vappu - the famous Finnish holiday, Suomenlinna - a private island, karpalolonkero - the best drink in Scandinavia, Finnish design egg chairs, sunset runs on the beach, all-night karaoke in a friend's private studio...enough said :)
Estonia...An afternoon ferryboat trip from Finland had my cousin Maya, friend Liisi and I shopping, exploring, dining, and people watching in this seemingly half-Finnish, half-Russian country.
Ukraine...Oh, how I fell in love with the little cosmopolitan city of Odessa, with its cute little cafes, hot summer days and nights, and clubs filled with dancers flowing over from the beach into the Black Sea.
Nashville...Returning to the South after nearly 8 months overseas was a bit of a culture shock, but the fall semester of my senior year at Belmont has been phenomenal. Great faculty, great friends, and great projects. I'm now savoring my undergraduate days while counting down to the completion of my thesis!
Sacramento...A weekend in sunny California in October was a welcome respite from both a heavy work/course-load and the dropping temperatures in Nashville. Attending my cousin's wedding and spending a few days with family was well worth the brief trip!

In sum, 2011 has been incredible. It's been a whirlwind of a year, and I feel truly blessed to have started it - and to be now ending it - at home, in beautiful southern Oregon, surrounded by my parents, friends, and five wonderful siblings.

A big thank you to all of my readers who have kept me in your thoughts and prayers - and have shared your own thoughts and experiences with me - throughout the year. My mobile lifestyle means I miss out on sharing daily life with the vast majority of my friends and loved ones. I've traded the comfort of familiarity and routine for the excitement and wonder of an ever-changing environment. But the messages, phone calls, and photos I've received from you along the way help me to feel that I am part of a very special community.

Merry Christmas!

PS: to those of you who have been begging me to write a book....I've actually started! No telling when I'll finish, but earlier this year, while I was taking shelter indoors from the bitter Russian winter, I put several of my stories onto paper and look forward to growing the collection into a real tome ready for publication. Don't worry, you'll know well in advance when it finally comes out! -S.

Fathoming Amazon - an infographic

2011-11-22T10:13:00.001-06:00

When Michael Hyatt blogged about the Amazon Empire earlier this week, I was flabbergasted. I certainly love my Kindle, whom I've affectionately named Oscar, and get so excited about buying books and having them magically appear in Oscar's table of contents literally within seconds, but my personal satisfaction with this one product line is about as far as my ponderings on the company went.

Apparently a lot of people are big fans of Amazon just like me.
This infographic, compiled by FrugalDad, (and yes, "infographic" is a word), speaks for itself...

Source: Frugaldad.com

So, are you impressed? Intimidated? Do you think the Amazon Empire can last?

As someone who best absorbs and processes ideas, and conceptualizes new ones via graphic representations, I get so excited about quality infographics. Here's an article on 3 Trends That Will Define the Future of Infographics. I'm especially looking forward to the applications for real-time data visualization!

UK is in Kentucky?

2011-11-21T19:12:00.001-06:00

As the oldest of six kids, I'm know I'm under close watch -- not in a bad way, just in the sense that there are five sets of little eyes constantly waiting to see what I'm going to do, how I'm going to do it, and (hopefully) ready to learn from the things I mess up. I step back from time to time and try to think about how I can set the best example for all of them; what I can do to help set them up for success is this crazy, fast-paced world; and how I can encourage them to take off running towards what they really want to do in life.

It's not always easy being hundreds -- more often, thousands -- of miles away from them for 50 weeks out of year, and even with cell phones, texting, and the magic of Skype, I still haven't figured out a way to tele-port myself to my sister's soccer games....not even when her team won regionals this year. But every once in a while one of them will do or say something that brings a huge smile to my face and lets me know I'm doing something right.

This note from my mom today definitely was definitely one of those happy occasions...

Shirah, I'm reading your blog right now. Raam just walked up and saw the UK’s Patterson Tower title under the pic you posted and he asked, “UK...Wait is that the Ukraine or United Kingdom Patterson Tower?” I said, “Neither, it’s the University of Kentucky’s Patterson Tower.” Pretty neat how all of your traveling has opened up his world.

I left home when Raam was just 5 years old; I think all he's really known is a big sister who's constantly in strange, faraway places with weird names, always bringing home odd toys and souvenirs. I never thought about it before, but we should really sign this kid up for a geography contest. I LOVE that he has such a global perspective already at this age!

Lexington & the UK PhD in Management

2011-11-19T23:09:00.001-06:00

This weekend I enjoyed a trip to Lexington, Kentucky, where I had the chance to learn more about a PhD program at the University of Kentucky's Gatton School of Management. My specific area of interest is in social network analysis, and Gatton has some of the world's leading researchers in this field; it was such a treat to spend the day getting to know them, hearing about their current projects, and sitting in on an afternoon seminar with other students currently in the program.

In my continuing survey of PhD programs I found this website on online PhD programs being offered by several US colleges. Even though it doesn't seem like something for me, I found it interesting to learn that there are opportunities to complete a doctorate without having to regularly attend campus. While online education is emerging as a viable and cost-beneficial way to complete a degree, most colleges are still focusing on traditional campus based education and the benefits that arise from in-person interaction between students and professors.

The drive to Lexington was beautiful, especially on Friday morning as I drove east toward the sunrise. Lexington itself is a quaint little town compared to Nashville, and it's set in rolling green hills neatly partitioned by the white picket fences of the horse farms for which the city has earned itself global renown. Navigating the campus of a huge state school was much different from Belmont; luckily the folk were friendly and, apparently not trusting my internal positioning system, always insisted on walking me to my destination instead of leaving me with even detailed directions.

UK's Patterson Tower - view from the walking bridge

Two friendly girls, friends of a friend, put me up for the night in their downtown apartment. Talking with them gave me a better sense of the Lexington community, and from what I've seen and heard so far, I can definitely see myself living there happily for a few years.

Watching the sun set from the edge of campus.

I've been encouraged to look at several different schools and programs before deciding if (and then where) to pursue a PhD, and I will certainly look around, but I'm excited about the individuals and collaborative academic community I've found in the management/social network analysis program at UK and hope to see them all again soon!

This semester has been, by far, one of the most exciting and intense thus far. Juggling all my different interests has landed me with two internships, four part-time jobs, and leadership roles in two student organizations, plus I've picked ballroom dancing back up...and somehow I'm still finding time to write my thesis (while loving this process more than ever)! Now I'm about to add some intensive studying for the GMAT (the SAT for graduate-level business school admission) and a web of grad school applications to the mix. All the craziness is worth it, though, because I'm learning that the more you put yourself out there, the more you gain in terms of knowledge and meaningful relationships.

Here's the random story of the day: On the way home to Nashville this afternoon traffic suddenly got backed up. I've never seen this before, but a car ahead of me suddenly burst into flames. By the time I got to the wreckage, there was a lady standing against the concrete median wall, with a cardboard box and a suitcase at her feet. The car on the right side of the road was just a smoking skeleton of the four-door it used to be, and the firemen were putting out the forest fire it had started on the other side of the guard rail. I was puzzled because the incident must have been pretty bad, but the lady didn't seem injured or burned...

Murmuration

2011-11-09T20:13:00.001-06:00

I started to write: "I'm in one of the moods tonight that's a perfect mixture between introspectiveness and appreciation for social fellowship; a healthy balance of quietness and exuberance; maintaining focused thoughts yet finding myself on the brink of complete awe and wonder at the world around me."
But then I decided I could say all that in one word. Peace.

At peace is a most wonderful place to be.
And it is here, where one is most vulnerable to feelings of overwhelming enthusiasm when presented with even the littlest joys of life, that I came upon one of the most awe-inspiring phenomena of the natural world that I've ever seen. Just look for yourself....

Murmuration, by Sophie Windsor Clive A chance encounter and shared moment with one of nature's greatest and most fleeting phenomena.
Shot 14 days ago on the River Shannon in Ireland.

Fall Foto Frenzy

2011-11-05T17:39:00.001-05:00

Autumn in Nashville always inspires me to pull out my camera that's been tucked away since my return from summer travels. I feel compelled by the beauty around me to capture a snapshot of what feels like nature's annual celebration; the trees seem to put on their best outfits and even the sky steps up to the occasion with a deep blue, cloudless background that provides incredible contrasts with the reds and golds nearer the earth.

During October and November my point-and-shoot never leaves my purse; I keep it at an arm's length so that opportunities to soak in the Tennessee magic are never missed.
Here are some highlights from this week...

I stepped out the door at 6.30 on Thursday morning and was greeted
by a world bathed in eerie pink light. This is my front yard, backlit
by the sun rising through clouds behind me. Twenty minutes later the
rain clouds above broke and it poured.

One of my favorite things about getting to work early: watching the sun rise from the top floor of the 28-story
building I work in downtown at the Department of Commerce.

Belmont's quad. My favorite tree on campus.

Two Takes on the Context of Living

2011-10-23T20:53:00.002-05:00

I recently saw this poem-proverb posted somewhere, and copied it down in my planner...only to find it a few weeks later with no recollection of where I originally read it.

LIVE WITH INTENTION.
WALK TO THE EDGE.
LISTEN HARD. PLAY WITH ABANDON.
PRACTICE WELLNESS. LAUGH. RISK. LOVE.
CONTINUE TO LEARN.
APPRECIATE YOUR FRIENDS.
CHOOSE WITH NO REGRET.
FAIL WITH ENTHUSIASM.
STAND BY YOUR FAMILY.
DO WHAT YOU LOVE.
LIVE AS IF THIS IS ALL THERE IS.

Overall, this modern proverb seems to hold some generally good advice for living life to its fullest. There's one problem with it, though - in my opinion. The last phrase kind of irks me. "Live as if this is all there is." Doesn't that sort of suck all the hope out of an otherwise uplifting piece of literature?

If I were to rewrite this my way, the ending would read: Cherish the fact that you are only one minuscule part of a much bigger plan. My personality bent has always geared me toward finding the connection between myself and the bigger picture - in any activity. I guess you could say I'm context-driven. It's no wonder, then, that my most beloved author and philosopher is Huston Smith - a now-92-year-old man who was born in China to Methodist missionary parents and chose to spend his life traveling the world, conscientiously practicing five of the major world religions (for at least a decade each, & studying methodically many minority belief systems) with their respective followers, and immersing himself in the culture and spirituality of people groups across the globe. All this to explore the connections we make between the here and now of our humanity and what lies beyond.

I happen to think that what lies beyond is God, and an everlasting life in his company. I know that some of you reading my blog believe that's what's in store for you, too. What do you get out of that last phrase in the proverb above? The knowledge that my life, work and choices on earth are connected to a much bigger purpose is a considerable source of encouragement and meaning for me; so, in my case, to live as if this is all there is would really be a downer.

I hope I don't step on anyone's toes with my inspirational poem bashing; I just couldn't help but heed the knee-jerk reaction of something deep inside me as I took in that last line. On the other hand, I really like the first line; let's end with this call to action....

LIVE WITH INTENTION.

- fin -

Travel the World Without Ever Leaving Nashville

2011-10-18T19:20:00.001-05:00

I've heard people over and over tell me how jealous they are of those who get to travel; they complain that they themselves could never afford such experiences.

Au contraire. Let me remind you...
We are a nation of immigrants! All over America you'll find pockets of first- and second-generation immigrants who are holding on to and cherishing the traditions of their forefathers, and would you believe...they are not only willing, they are ecstatic when individuals outside their community take an interest and come to learn about and share in their traditions. If you've never encountered a community of immigrants who have preserved the customs and traditions of their motherland, you might be surprised at how spending time with them will sweep you off your feet, transporting you millions of miles, to anywhere in the world.

You'll try foods you never knew existed; learn songs and dances whose names you might have read in a history book; hear stories that would blow your mind...

I'm incredibly fortunate in that I landed haphazardly in one of America's most international cities.
Nashville is one of the last "refugee cities," meaning that we accept and welcome refugees from all over the world. Did you know that there is a Kurdish population of over 15,000 people in Nashville? (Kurdish people come from a region around northern Iraq, however political borders have split up the land they occupy, making the Kurds a minority population in three or four different countries.)
There is also a big Laotian community here. Could you find Laos on a map? Would you even know where to start looking? It's actually a country in Southeast Asia, situated between Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, Myanmar, and China.

View Larger Map

I've found a really neat group of Ukrainian people here; I told you last time that I've been going to their church and joined the youth choir. And I learned just yesterday that there are many Bulgarian people in Nashville as well.

All my new Ukrainian friends! The 'molodyozh' youth group. I'm the in 2nd row, third from the right.

This weekend I had the opportunity to take part in two major cultural celebrations; of course I jumped at the chance and took full advantage of an amazing learning and fellowship opportunity!

I've been wanting to attend a shabbat service with my Jewish friend Sam for a while. He invited me this past Friday to a special evening service for Sukkot, a holiday that involves praying, feasting, decorating, and a little construction. Everything about my visit to Congregation Micah was new and wonderful. Sam grabbed a yarmulke (a prayer cap for men) as we walked in, and we were given a sort of prayerbook/hymnal to follow along during the service.

Did you know that Hebrew is written (and read) from right to left? Correspondingly, a book in Hebrew opens "backwards" from what we are used to. What we would consider to be the back cover is actually the front! The specific book we were given had the original Hebrew script, a transliteration for English speakers next to that (basically a pronunciation guide), and then a translation into English below, so that even if you don't speak Hebrew you can still enjoy the full meaning of the prayers and songs. The service comprised a variation of songs, led by one woman with a beautiful, clear voice and an acoustic guitar; several prayers recited in unison; a few short messages from the Rabbi; and an opportunity for members of the congregation to offer worries, concerns, and sicknesses up for prayer.

That night the congregation also celebrated the first "shearing" of one little boy, meaning that he got his first hair cut. I can't remember exactly why, but I learned that night that little Jewish boys don't receive a hair cut until the age of 3. I'll have to ask again why that is. It was pretty funny though, when the parents brought their son up to the front and he was allowed to take off his hood and cap to show everyone his haircut. At first he was excited and eager to do so, constantly trying to pull it off before the Rabbi had finished explaining the tradition. Then, finally, when the little guy was told, "Go ahead, show everyone!" he got really shy and wouldn't. When his mom finally pulled off his hat, he got angry and started yelling, "It was supposed to be a surprise!" The Rabbi bent down to give the little boy a blessing, but he confidently said, "No" in the Rabbi's face, and then made an about-face and walked into a corner with his face to the wall. I was about cracking up by this time, trying not to show it, especially when the toddler's dad picked him up upside-down and swung the little guy over his shoulder while the Rabbi prayed over him.

The beautiful auditorium at Congregation Micah in Nashville.

On this door are written the Ten Commandments.
Behind these doors is where you'll find the Torah.

hat I enjoyed most about the service was the story behind Sukkot, the holiday we had all gathered to celebrate. This is a day when Jewish people remember their ancestors, the Israelites, who wandered in the desert for forty years at one point, constructing small shacks, or sukkahs, wherever they went. The modern holiday Sukkot involves the construction of such a shelter, in which the family (or those brave enough) spend the night. The sukkah can be built of wood, stone, brick, metal, plastic...any material can be used. The only requirement is that the roof be made of "thin strips of wood or bark through which the stars can be seen," according to the Rabbi. The purpose of this shabby roof is to remind the resident -- as he looks up at the stars through his roof and hopes it doesn't rain -- that no matter how much effort we put into building security up around ourselves, it's really God who is our protection.

At Congregation Micah, one big sukkah had been constructed for the kids to decorate -- the "official" sukkah, I guess. And all the families were sleeping in a dozen or so REI tents arranged in a semi-circle on the grass outside the synagogue. I asked one guy: "So, even though you're in the modern REI sukkah, you don't put the tent's fly on, right? That just wouldn't be authentic. It's not a real sukkah unless the prospect of rain is a little unnerving, right?"

Sam and I helped this little girl Rachel make paper chains to
decorate the sukkah.

This little boy, Jacob, was precious!

The kids drag their long paper chains out to the sukkah

Sam helps the kids attach their decorations to the roof.

It was really neat to see how enthusiastic the kids were, even older boys who can be hard to motivate when it comes
to decorating. They knew the stories, the traditions, and WHY they were celebrating.

Sam and Jacob enjoy the satisfaction of a job well-done.

Once the sukkah was decorated, we joined the adults around the bonfire for s'mores, while the kids watched an outdoor movie on a big projector screen. While we were standing around the fire, one of the guys came up and asked if he could get us a cold beer. Everyone was really laid back and very welcoming!
I'm looking forward to going back this Friday night to celebrate Simchat Torah with Congregation Micah. I'm not quite sure what this holiday entails yet, but I'm sure I'll learn and have lots to share about it next week.

After celebrating Sukkot on Friday night, I transitioned right into Saturday's Zhatva "harvest" celebration at the Russian church. This is essentially a Ukrainian version of Thanksgiving, as it also ties together the theme of harvesting and giving thanks. The denomination of the church is called "Slavic Baptist," and this harvest holiday appears to be unique to protestant groups in Ukraine/Russia. I have one professor from central Russia, and another from the Czech Republic (who teaches Russian and has lived in Russia before), and neither of them were familiar with this holiday. Nevertheless, it was really neat to celebrate with this community!

Ukrainian food is delicious, and there was certainly an abundance on Saturday, after the service. I wish I had a photo of the sladkiy stol - dessert table - as it was EVEN BIGGER and more crowded than the main course. Valik's plate, below, only displays two or three of the 30+ desserts offered...

Let the feast begin :)

Andrey and Max in matching purple.

While having dinner together, I started to tell Andrey, Max, Natalie, and some other friends about my experience at Sukkot the night before. The more I told, the faster and louder I talked...until my last sentence started to rise above the din of 200+ feasting people. I excitedly wrapped it all off with, "...and we even built a SUKKAH!" All conversations around me came to a screeching halt; I looked over and Andrey was bright red, Natalie had a very surprised look on her face, and Anya next to me had stopped fiddling with her napkin. "Don't say that," she said after about ten seconds. Everyone else at my table was looking around as if trying to make sure no one heard.

"What?" I couldn't figure out their reactions. "No, you don't get it," I continued, "we built a sukkah; it's a shack where the Israelites slept in the desert..."

"DON'T say that," Anya interruputed me again. The others started to chime in. Finally Andrey pulled himself together enough to say, "That's a really bad word in Russian." He kept looking around behind me.
"That lady was walking by when you said that," he told me, "and she stopped and her face got all red and shocked-looking, and then she just kept walking."

"Oh no, did anyone else hear?" I asked. "Yeah. They were looking. But don't worry, just don't say it again."

"Go explain it to them!" I told him over and over. "Explain to them what a sukkah is and tell them the story, it's really a good story."

"Just stop saying the word" - he looked at me as if I just didn't get it. And I didn't. It's just so strange....this word that means nothing to me means something neutral in Hebrew and something pretty bad in Russian. Apparently the word that sounds like "sookah" in Russian means something like "bitch" or "whore."

Yeah....probably not the best thing to be yelling in a group of conservative church-going Ukrainians.
Luckily, it doesn't appear as though any lasting harm was done :)

Ukrainian kids singing some pretty cute songs in Russian during the service.
One girl leaned over to me unprompted and said "Don't worry, we don't understand what they're saying either."

So here's the moral of the stories....

Next time you're itching to travel but just can't quite pull together the funds, try venturing into a new neighborhood in your own city....I guarantee you can find international cultural experiences in each of our 50 states! Who knows, you might even make some great friends!

Building "Thinking" Into My Schedule

2011-10-03T17:57:00.001-05:00

It wasn't until my schedule for this week got so crazy it required an Excel spreadsheet, that I realized something big. This graphic representation screamed at me something bold: I'm always doing, producing, meeting, collaborating, presenting, etc. I'm never simply thinking. It never crossed my mind that I would ever have to do such a thing as pencil thinking time into my calendar. Have you ever scheduled time for thinking?

I started to really think about it (ironically), and realized that I go through my entire day in a state of somewhat organized mental ADD. My brain jumps here and there, processing all sorts of different stimuli -- professors, phone, email, friends -- simultaneously trying to focus on certain higher-level thinking themes -- bond valuation in finance, a diagram of the human eyeball and vision system in psychology, business model analysis and development in entrepreneurship -- all the while attempting to monitor a gazillion short-term tasks -- the campus parking test I'm supposed to take to get out of a $50 fine for parking in an unmarked spot, the last-minute job interview that just got scheduled for Wednesday, remembering to pay bills....the list goes on. Life happens, and things pop up everywhere, cluttering my day (and yours, I'm sure) with innumerable tasks, each one more urgent than the last.

I take it for granted that amidst all this mental chaos, some assimilation will magically take place in my brain and I'll just keep spitting out good ideas. In reality, this is pure nonsense. So why am I frustrated whenever I sit down to write this business model feasibility plan that's due next week, and realize that, much to my dismay, no brilliant new concepts have materialized in my brain since yesterday, when I opened the document and was disappointed in much the same way. Could it be because I haven't actually, purposefully thought about the project between then and now? Could it be that I've fallen into a routine of focusing all efforts on my outputs rather than thinking through the many inputs that are currently swirling around in my brain? I'm going to experiment this week with scheduling some thinking time. I'm curious to see if I'll become more productive, or if at least what I produce is of higher quality.

In other news, here's my fun photo of the week. I've recently started spending weekends with the Russian-Ukrainian community here in Nashville, and especially with one family in particular, where I fit right in with their other 12 kids. I love being with a big family again! A church service all in Russian helps me maintain my language skills, and I feel right at home in the youth group with all the rest of the these "third culture kids" - youth who've grown up somewhere in between a few different countries and cultures. The atmosphere is casually bilingual, allowing for an even better means of expressing exactly what you want to say with a particular nuance. Russian is such a rich language; there's really an art to speaking. It's great for when you want to be a little bit vague, but English definitely prevails when you have something technical to explain.

Oh, and I've also joined the youth choir! Learning the old hymns in Russian is really fun and interesting, and we get to perform in a few weeks at Zhatva, the Russian version of Thanksgiving.

Me, cracking myself up while [attempting] to play the "name game," which includes the opportunity to smack
people with an empty two-liter for any number of reasons. This was my first night with the group, and as the
newcomer, I was constantly shouting out the most popular Russian names I could recall, only to find that there was
no one in the group with those particular names! No Zhenya, no Sasha, no Seryozha!!

Why a Major in International Entrepreneurship might not have been so off-the-wall

2011-09-21T11:04:00.000-05:00

Iran across this article today and thought, Hmm, looks likepeople with expertise in international entrepreneurship could be inhigh demand in the near future - right here in the U.S.

Idiscovered during my first year abroad (in Belgium in 2006-07) that Iwanted to work in an international environment, and I wanted to dosomething that embraced and promoted the entrepreneurial spirit. It's nowonder these objectives led me to Belmont, where I was all too excited to findout that I had the opportunity to actually create aone-of-a-kind personal major, tailored precisely to my research andcareer interests. I decided right off the bat that my eventualgoal would be to open a business consulting firm catering to small-and medium-sized enterprises with high growth potential and thedesire to expand internationally. The fun I see in this is aperpetual game of "connecting the dots" -- across borders,languages, cultures, and different markets' needs.

WhatI didn't realize was that it might not be so much about exportinggoods as it could be about importingentrepreneurs. Ifthis "U.S. Startup Visa" pans out, who is going to educatethe foreign entrepreneurs that are queuing up, undoubtedly ready to rush our borders? Who will know enough about how thesystem works in their countries of origin, so as to be able to bestexplain the major differences in how we do things here in the U.S.? Who will these aspiring business owners turn to when they havequestions about business terminology? -- anyone who's studied aforeign language knows that there are lots of "falsefriends" (words in language A that look or sound the same aswords or constructs in language B, but actually represent quitedifferent concepts) and these can be exceptionally deceptive once youstart navigating the business and financial lexicons.

With a lot ofresearch and continued travel & language study, I'm hoping to geton the front end of this new trend and be ready when theentrepreneurial expats come flooding in. Navigating a newcountry and culture is hard enough as an individual. Pair that withthe pressure of meeting all the alleged seed capital, investment, andsales thresholds required to keep your visa (see the article for vague details), and the uncertainty ofstarting a new business skyrockets. If someone offered to guide youthrough that process, ultimately allowing you and your family tomaintain residence in the U.S. and even profit from a privateenterprise, how (and how much) would you be willing to compensate that business coach when your new company gets off the ground andstarts seeing success?

No really. I'mcurious. I'd like to hear your thoughts. Comment below or email me:shiraheden(at)gmail(dot)com

I Don't Want to Follow Directions from a Jumbotron!

2011-09-20T19:28:00.000-05:00

Every September I help out with the International Student Retreat for Belmont's incoming exchange students. The relationships I've built with our international students have been some of the most rewarding and enriching of my college career, and I am always amazed at how much I learn from them every day -- not only about their countries and cultures, but about my own as well. Their observations and remarks about American life; the things they find strange or downright weird; their stories (of both horror and joy) -- they crack me up and provoke some intense reflection on our own beliefs and habits here in America.

Belmont International Student Retreat 2011

Tonight I had dinner with Ahmad (from Germany) and Yann (a half-Swiss, half-French student). This weekend Yann and Ahmad attended the Tennessee Titans' first home game at the stadium in Nashville, and I was eager to hear their report. As my friend Whitney explained to me when I first moved to Tennessee, "Football is a religion in the South."

Nashville's LP Field - Home of the Tennessee Titans
(photo from eseats.com)

Yann said, "Yeah, I really liked the game! I've seen American football on TV before and never really liked it, because they spend half the game in time out, but WOW! - the atmosphere!!"
Ahmad agreed; overall they both really enjoyed themselves. Yann continued, "You know, in France, if I go to a match I show up just five minutes before kickoff," (talking about soccer), "but here, it's more than a game for Americans. It's the whole experience; it's like camping! They get there early in the morning, set up their picnic, start eating, drinking a little..."
"Yeah, the game is their whole Sunday," Ahmad piped in. "We pretend we're too busy -- we go to the match five minutes ahead and then return home straightaway when it's over, but for them, they just know - if there's a game on Sunday then that's what they're doing all day."

Then came the funny part.
"But you know, there's one thing that kind of bothered me", Ahmad continued. "There's that screen that always tells you what to do. Make more noise! Cheer for your team! And all the Americans do it! I don't want to do what the screen tells me! It's so predictable. Every five minutes it's going to tell you Make more noise! In Europe we don't have those. There's a guy down at the bottom of the bleachers with his back to the field, and you imitate him. He has some creative yell that he says, and then you yell back a little and cheer for your team. I just don't like this screen thing."
I was laughing inside the whole time he was explaining this, because I've had the same negative reaction before myself. Although I haven't been to a pro football game (I know, I know, half of my readers just disowned me), I LOVE going to the Nashville Predators (NHL) games whenever I can get tickets. The only thing I don't like is being bullied by the jumbotron. I agree with Ahmad; it's a little impersonal. I would be much happier if some guy with a microphone was goading the crowd instead.

I was going to mention this to Ahmad, but he wasn't finished.
"You know, I think this is really pretty normal for Americans, though. They're used to getting instructions. There are instructions for everything! And there's always an expert....You should listen to me, trust me, believe me, I'm an expert and I really know, I've had so much experience in this...Just do this and you'll get rich, I promise...."
The conversation had taken a new turn. It was interesting to watch it evolve, to follow the train of thought from all-day sporting events to authoritarian jumbotrons to expert "advice" and a nation of people who follow directions. The guys had to run to class and the conversation kind of dwindled down from here, but I was intrigued by the conclusions they have drawn from this American football experience.

Thanks, Yann and Ahmad, for an amusing new perspective.

New friends relaxing poolside on the Retreat in early September

2011-2012 President and VPs of Belmont's International Business Society
Carolina (from Brazil), Rami (from Jordan) and me (the token American)

Learning by Leaving

2011-08-30T22:05:00.000-05:00

I have immensely enjoyed the opportunities I've had this week to sit down with classmates, old friends and professors who all want to hear about my travels in Eastern Europe. Their questions - whose answers are often "so obvious" to me - have been incredibly insightful and helpful in reminding me how much I actually learned while I was gone. Their reactions to my responses have ranged from utter surprise to indifference, from "I told you so," to "I'm so glad you're still alive!"

I am among only a handful of seniors who still have a meal plan at Belmont's cafeteria, so when I'm not hurriedly trying to finish reading for my next class while munching my veggies, I'm often joined by one of the four other seniors whom I might run into there. These past few days I've eaten a few times with Steven, an accounting major with whom I used to work as a Resident Assistant in one of our dorms. There couldn't be two more different students at Belmont, but we always seem to get into serious life-planning discussions. Steven has lived in middle Tennessee his entire life, and would be happy to stay here indefinitely. Tonight I heard the most adventurous statement he's ever made in my presence: "I might consider moving across the country if I had to." I first thought I had heard "to another country" and almost fell out of my chair and flung a carrot across the room, but he quickly confirmed that it was across "the country" -- the one and only country worth living in, in his book -- the United States of America.
There's a simple sweetness about Steven's contentedness here; his happy-go-lucky and laid-back personality make him unassuming and easy to be around. His genuine interest in other people's life and experiences and willingness to listen give us license to be genuine and unworried about being too quickly judged.

My neighborhood church.

Looking at the Admiralty from across the Neva.

Tonight Steven asked, "What was life like in general over there?"
I told him about registering with the city government and the need to re-register with the municipal authorities of a another city, should you visit for more than three days. I talked about the über-high cost of living in the big cities; $10 cups of coffee in St. Petersburg; a subway line that is so far underground, it takes five minutes on an escalator to get down there. I told him about the warm, genuine, intelligent people I met and their curiosity about the West. I even told him about my good friend Yuriy, the photographer with whom I effectively covered most of downtown St. Pete on foot.
Steven stopped me halfway through my first sentences, exclaiming, "...And you want to move back there!?"

I had to think about it for a minute. "Well, yeah, for a time," I said. "There are a lot of things about life in Russia that I miss."
"You know," I told him, "there are things about every place that I've lived that I miss. It's like being a little bit homesick for six countries at once. But I like it that way. I don't take any day for granted, and I know that I make the most of every day because wherever I am, I live in constant awareness that I won't be in this place for very long."
We were both silent for a minute; the din of students eating and laughing in the background faded out as we both lost ourselves in contemplation.
Finally Steven said, "Wow, that's an interesting way to look at it. It's like not taking anything for granted because you know you could die any day -- except you're not dying, just leaving. For all of us that just live here, we get into a routine and sometimes it becomes about just getting through the day."
I completely understand what Steven is saying, and I see the truth in his observation. But to me, what he is describing is a tragic existence.

A canal near the Hermitage.

"I just couldn't live like that..." Steven went on, "...I couldn't live in a place where there are so many rules and regulations - especially with the government and everything." Another friend I saw this week prefers the safety of America to the many, many (both perceived and real) threats and inconveniences of daily life that expatriates and inhabitants of other countries face. I can't say that I blame her, but I approach life from a completely different angle. It's a challenge and a game for me -- to see how fast I can adapt to life in another place; how quickly I can fit in seamlessly and be taken for a local; how uncomfortably I can live and still be happy; how many oddities and quirks I can find and embrace in a new culture; how low-maintenance I can become.

Downtown St. Pete. A big pole falls and no one shows up to put it
back in place. No orange cones. Nothing.
I actually got stared at while taking this photo,
as if this is an everyday occurrence.

Sometimes it takes a conversation like the ones I had with these friends to realize the logic that underlies our daily actions and attitudes. Sure, I'm aware that every morning I open my eyes, remember where I am, and pick out all the things I want to do that day that I know I can't do anywhere else. I just hadn't taken into consideration the fact that everybody else isn't doing exactly the same thing.

Speaking of taking photos for people...I snapped this shot for my brother
Jared. It's "his" car - same make, model & color as the one my aunt
gave him as his first car! And I saw it in Russia!!

For me, leaving and exploring new places and meeting new people is as much about cherishing my old home and friends and past experiences as it is about exuberantly embracing the new. I remember walking to work every morning in St. Petersburg - 45 minutes in many degrees below zero - and smiling as I thought about all of you. Some of the pictures I took were for me, because I came upon a nice view or some unusual scene that made me laugh; but honestly, most of them were for you. 90% of the time I pulled out my camera because something triggered a memory of one of you and I thought, Oh my, so-and-so would LOVE to see this!
Now I walk to school every morning - 10 short minutes under the warm Tennessee sun - and think about the community I left in Russia....my wonderful co-workers at the Consulate, my passionate film- and music-loving young friends, the man with no legs who wore black fingerless gloves and scooted around between traffic on a little square board with four wheels, asking for spare change.
Just as traveling introduces you to parts of yourself that you might not have ever otherwise encountered, it also prompts the discovery of your home in a new light and from a new perspective, namely, the perspective of an outsider.

The giant poster reads: "Russia. Land of Opportunity."
Wait...wasn't that America's trademark??

Culture Shock - Southern Style

2011-08-25T01:12:00.000-05:00

On my many walks through campus today, on this first day of fall classes at Belmont, I realized (for the fourth or fifth time in my life) how much more intensely I feel the culture shock when re-entering my own culture than when initially leaving it for another. As I strolled up the newly repaved paths from my apartment in Belmont Commons to the Massey Business Center at the top of the hill, I was puzzled by the happy faces making eye contact with me as I passed and even - gasp! - smiling!? I kept thinking, "What's going on? What do these people want from me?"

I learned very quickly in Russia - and was reminded during that first month in Western Europe - that making eye contact isn't the proper way to conduct oneself while walking on a city street. And smiling is simply out of the question; socially acceptable only as a kid or teenage girl, and even then - only when greeting very close friends or family. To smile at a stranger is downright provocative.

(No wonder I had a perpetual trail of Russian guys behind me those first few weeks in St. Petersburg...)

There are other things I'm still getting used to, too. Like driving. Everywhere. It was nice to rediscover my personal vehicle upon my arrival in Nashville, and even nicer that I could profit from its use while moving into a new apartment. But I'm still in the habit of forecasting the day's mileage every morning when getting dressed and selecting footwear from my closet, and frankly I'd rather be out in the fresh air, using the legs God gave me - than scrunched up lethargically in a car.

Yesterday I ran across this long-abandoned journal entry on my desktop, dated February 17th, the anniversary of my second week in St. Petersburg. It seems that adjusting to life in Russia, though much different, wasn't that hard after all.

February 17, 2011

It’s amazing how quickly you can adapt to a new place and a new way of life – even a new mindset. I’ve noticed this week that I’m really getting the hang of things around here.
I don’t cringe anymore when I turn on the faucet and a stream of rust-colored water pours out. I expertly navigate sidewalks and street crossings and can spot black ice several meters away. I can pile on seven extra layers and be ready to go out in about 30 seconds flat. And I’ve learned that when I find a product from the States that I like, or think I might need in the next few weeks, I need to buy it on the spot – there’s usually only one or two on the shelf and when those are gone there’s no telling when, if ever, they might reappear.

A prime example of the black ice of which I speak...
This photo was taken at about -18 Celcius. See the water frozen in the pipe?

Oh look! Lucky Charms!! What a find!

And they can be yours for the low price of only
FIFTEEN US DOLLARS :)
Thank you, Russia. My grocery bill
(for one rather small person) in St. Pete was
often $80 per week - and that's just cooking at home!

"Kracks" - one example of the many foreign knock-offs
available in Russia. Usually found on the shelf alongside
their more expensive American equivalents, these knock-off
brands in their almost perfectly identical packaging can fool
some consumers. But don't be mistaken - companies like
"Kracks" cut corners wherever possible and quality is
sacrificed in favor of bringing something to market that is
actually affordable for the middle class.

On the positive side of culture shock, I stopped by the offices of many of my current and former professors today, and was completely overjoyed and delighted to remember how supportive and caring are the faculty at Belmont. Some have stopped me in the hall, welcomed me back, and said they loved traveling with me via my blog; others welcomed me and encouraged me to continue writing and traveling and studying. I couldn't imagine a nicer homecoming. In contrast, most of the professors that I met in Russia (and the two that now follow my blog are certainly the exception) - when I explained my research project and asked for their assistance - weren't quite so enthusiastic about helping in any way. Only one of them really thought my project was "cool." When I did manage to elicit any sort of support (i.e. the promise of assistance in recruiting students to complete my research survey), it was quickly squelched when the professor realized they would have to put out any effort to participate in my research...namely, reserving a half hour time slot for their students to take my online survey in the computer lab. Honestly, it's hard to hold it against them. Things just work differently in Russia, and for all I know it could be a bureaucratic nightmare to reserve any room in any academic building. The piles of paperwork I had to do (including a tuberculosis test, HIV test, and x-ray of my lungs) just to live in a public dorm in St. Petersburg is enough to deter me from ever pursuing such a living arrangement again. And if you could have seen the place! View some of the photos of my room in this blog post.

I do miss my friends in Russia, and even many aspects of life there. But I'm certainly glad to be back at my home in Belmont, and - once I get used to it again - I'm certain the South will suit me just fine for the next few months.

My Dutch roommates, Debbie & Marlou, and myself, enjoying zakuzki (midnight snack) hosted by the friendly
Russian and Turkish guys in the adjacent room.
Sergei and Pasha (in the green jacket and white tee, respectively) were such interesting people - very curious
about our countries and lifestyles - and patient with our Russian! Even though they spoke no English whatsoever,
and at that time my Russian was pretty poor, we still communicated a lot of different ideas and became great friends.

Moldova: Who/What Are You? A country in the midst of a major identity crisis

2011-08-15T02:52:00.000-05:00

**Written July 24, 2011. Published August 15, 2011.

The road to Moldova...Sunflowers for as far as the eye can see!

Last Thursday night I was thinking about the weekend ahead and decided spontaneously to make a trip to Chisinau, the capital of Moldova. Two of my friends from Belmont - Stas and Eugen - are international students and are back visiting their family in Moldova this summer. (In fact, Stas just graduated this spring and got married this weekend -- a big congratulations to him and his new wife, Mariana!!)
Stas and Eugen have told me a lot about their country during the past few years at Belmont, and I always told them one day I would visit them in Moldova. Now, living just 180 km away, I couldn't pass up the opportunity! So on Thursday evening I walked into the kitchen where Anna, my Austrian roommate, was eating a buterbrod, and said, "Hey Anna, I think I'm going to Moldova this weekend. Do you wanna come?"
When I pulled my water bottle out of the fridge and turned around she was just staring at me.
"Are you serious?" she asked?
"Yeah, of course. Let's just go for the weekend; spend one night; see the city a little; and come back by Sunday afternoon -- we'll still have enough time to do our homework and take a nap!"

Visiting with Stas in downtown Chisinau

It turns out Anna has been wanting to visit Moldova for a while, but wasn't too keen on the idea of traveling alone. She didn't think anyone else would want to visit Chisinau, so she didn't even ask. Some things in life just work out... I was prepared to go alone, but I'm so glad I invited her along! Although I love being a lone trekker who can easily lose herself in a new city and culture, there are some things about traveling in pairs that are really nice. Sharing the experience and memories with a friend, and sharing common expenses are two of the benefits!

An hour before the bus left, I found Dasha's phone number -- the Moldovan girl we met on the train to Odessa the week before. It was such a blessing that she offered to reserve a room in a private apartment hotel downtown, and she and her dad met Anna and I at the bus station when we arrived at 9.30 pm. By 10.30 Anna and I were laying on our huge bed in a cozy little apartment when I said to her, "Just think, without Dasha we would still be wandering around the bus station in the dark, looking for a place to stay tonight!"

Behind me - minibuses about to depart. We endured five hours
WITHOUT AIR CONDITIONING (on a 39 C/102 F day at 80% humidity)
in a full van on the way to Chisinau.
Two of these hours were spent waiting at border crossings.

Dasha, making us an excursion! :)

Since we had absolutely no sightseeing itinerary and couldn't even name one thing in Chisinau that we knew we wanted to see, Dasha offered to "make an excursion" for us on Saturday. Of course we took her up on this, and it was absolutely the most adorable thing in the world to see her show up on Saturday morning with a list of at least 20 things she wanted to show us, and a hand-drawn map of our downtown route. She is really such a sweetheart! And a talented guide as well. It was neat to have her point of view on the city's history and current socio-political state.

Dasha shared lots of memories of growing up in Chisinau as we strolled the tree-lined streets, and I'll never forget her pointing to the street vendors and saying, "This is food that is impossible to eat. You always risk dying."

Parliament Building

Dasha and Anna prepare for the church

Our first stop: a church. Dasha thought ahead and brought scarfs and extra skirts so that we could enter the churches, even if we weren't dressed according to Orthodox protocol. In more touristy places you can often enter without a head covering, but out of respect I always usually have a small scarf in my purse to throw on while inside. Shoulders don't necessarily need to be covered, as the Catholic churches usually require, but skirts or shorts shouldn't fall much higher than your knees.

The National History Museum

We then continued to two museums -- the National History Museum and the Museum of Ethnography. I enjoyed an overview of Moldova's history through maps and other artifacts (Fun Fact: when Moldova was part of the USSR it was called Moldavia; it's proper name today, as an independent country, is "Moldova," but even in Moldova, Ukraine and Russia many people don't know this and both names are commonly used).

Communist propaganda poster with caption:
"And so it will be with the Fascist beast!"

The Museum of Ethnography

We spent a little more time in the Museum of Ethnography, where there were tons of great stuffed animals, fossils, old ceramics, and even a dinosaur!! -- all of which were found in the region.

It was really quite hot in the city that day; I drank four bottles of water and barely ate all day despite our trekking because it was just too hot. By three o'clock we needed some relief from the sun and steamy city streets, so Dasha took us to a place called Three Lakes Park (really just three ponds) where we sat in the shade, took a walk, and enjoyed the breeze.

I am continuously surprised by how dangerous daily life in Eastern Europe is compared to the United States. Business owners and private property owners aren't liable for incidents that take place on their property (at least not to the same extent as in the US - and even if an individual has the right to sue, the case would be backlogged in court so long that nobody fears actually having to pay the suit) and the governments don't use their funds to adequately maintain roads, manholes, bridges and such, so simply walking down a sidewalk requires a heightened sense of awareness and constant attention to detail (not to mention a bit of luck). If you're not hit by a lawless, speeding taxi or careening marshrutka, you're likely to be caught by one of these other "traps," as I call them.

A dumb person trap.

As we came upon these bridges at the Three Lakes Park, I said to Dasha, "No wonder I've met so many intelligent people here! The dumb ones simply don't survive. Looking at these big holes in the bridge and missing bits of railing, you really do your best to weed out the lower end of the gene pool!"

There's something charming about this dilapidated playground.
The colors are faded, but you know it's been loved.

Chisinau's famous city clock

Inside an old Soviet tram. Still in use, of course.

"Moldova is Romania!"

I asked Dasha about the graffiti I kept seeing - the same statement over and over: "Moldova is Romania."
What's that all about?

There's a bit of political and linguistic tension right now regarding the Moldovan identity. In fact, when we asked Dasha (who has been studying in Moscow for the past three years) how she views her nationality, she said, "I don't even know. I probably feel more Russian than anything -- my family speaks Russian and my parents are from Ukraine -- but really I don't really feel anything at all." The fact is, most people in Moldova speak Romanian, a Latin-based language that has a lot in common with Italian. Moldova has its own official language -- Moldovan, which is essentially Romanian that is written in Cyrillic (the Russian alphabet). And of course, as a result of their former membership in the Soviet Union, all older generations (and most young people) can speak Russian as well. In Chisinau, the capital of Moldova, Russian is very widely spoken as a primary language. But even so, Anna and I ran into problems when the girl at the apartment-hotel we stayed at turned out to speak only Romanian. Either she genuinely didn't understand even basic Russian (which is very hard to believe) or she simply did not want to speak it. This made doing business with her annoyingly difficult.
As of late, there has been talk of Moldova becoming part of Romania, a member of the European Union since 2007. Some are for this potential merger, while others are strongly opposed. Romania doesn't appear to be against annexing the smaller, poorer country. Graffiti seems to have popped up everywhere, proclaiming that Moldova is, in fact, Romania.
There is a simultaneous, yet different, movement which Dasha says involves Romanian-speaking Moldovans chasing the Russian-speaking population out of the country. "They want all the Russians to leave," she says. Even though the "Russians" to which she refers here are Moldovan citizens and many were even born there, they are by default "Russians" if their mother tongue and heritage is Russian. After hearing Dasha talk about this issue, I was left with the impression that it was quite a big deal, and although it doesn't appear to have escalated to violence in the streets, I sensed the presence of an ethnic oppression. However, when I met up with my friend Stas later, and mentioned the issue, he assured me that it's more political hype than anything. It's propaganda and scare tactics, he told me. Interesting to note that Stas comes from a bilingual family -- his father is from a Romanian family but his mother is of Russian (or Ukrainian) descent and spoke Russian at home with Stas and his brother and sister. Stas' father is an elected member of Moldova's parliament.
I am of the opinion that a lot of political hype and propaganda are certainly involved, as Stas suggested, but perhaps the verbal image of ethnic oppression painted by Dasha provides a keener sense of the emotions this issue evokes in the Russian-speaking minority party. Stas is an observant young man and very politically aware, so I was struck by this situation in particular -- it illustrates the fact that even if we somewhat identify with a minority community, we will rarely feel the entire weight of the implications of a movement as will those who have no way out. While someone like Stas can take refuge in the Romanian side of his linguistic and cultural identity amidst a situation such as this, a Moldovan with strictly Russian heritage has no escape from the shame and disdain pushed on them by the disapproving segment of society.

Interestingly, this public park had free wifi!
Anna and I were surprised and awestruck, but Dasha said it's "normal."
In some ways Eastern Europe is definitely behind the times, but in
this respect they are far ahead! Even some airports in the U.S. still
don't have free wifi!

A souvenir fair in downtown Chisinau

Dasha says all the Russian tourists sit on this lion to have their photo taken.

I was pleasantly surprised by the nice trees that line Chisinau's streets.

Modest attire required for entry to this Orthodox church.
I like the sketches of vintage clothing.

An especially beautiful Orthodox church interior in Chisinau.

Chisinau's Center Cathedral

Moldova's most famous and revered King.

Do you see the profile of a man in the right side of this bust's hair?

It was really a treat to tour the city with a local, someone who grew up there. I feel that Anna and I left the city with a sense of the local legends and stories passed down through generations; the kinds of stories you can only get from someone who's lived in a place for a very long time. Here's an example of exactly the type of story I'm talking about:
Dasha took us to see a collection of iron busts in a downtown park. About 12-15 busts are mounted on marble pedestals and line the main walkway, interspersed by benches and bushes. The busts present Moldova's most revered artists -- poets, painters, etc. The artist who was commissioned to fabricate the busts wanted to have his statue included in the park's outdoor gallery. The authorities refused this request, but the artist was determined to live on in the exhibition. Dasha tells us that Mihai Eminescu is for Moldovans the equivalent of Pushkin for Russians -- a most honored poet and author and symbol of national pride. The artist took it upon himself to etch his profile as a silhouette into the right side of Eminescu's hair, under the guise of Eminescu's hair blowing in the wind (or something. Who knows what he was thinking, exactly?). Do you see it? Fascinating story!

Entering this church, we stumbled into a baby's dedication and baptism ceremony.
There was a beautiful sound of song and prayer emanating from the group.
I didn't feel bad about taking photos once I saw an older brother (about 12 years old)
capturing the entire ceremony on VHS.
Interesting to note that, while women's heads are covered, bare shoulders and short
skirts appear to be accepted.

As we prepared to head back to the center after our outing to the Three Lakes Park, Dasha's mom called and said she had bought some peaches for us to take back to Odessa. Moldova is famous for its peaches, and Toma was sure that we had never tasted a proper peach! I was expecting she might have a few for us, but when the tram pulled up at the stop near her house, the door opened and she handed Dasha a bag -- 3 kilos of peaches! (That's 6+ pounds!!)

Needless to say, we had fresh peaches, peach pie, peaches on oatmeal,
baked peaches and honey, and tons more peachy recipes during the
following week at home in Odessa! They were delicious!!

An hour outside of Chisinau, on the way home, the driver suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and hopped
out, yelling, "Anyone who wants peaches - get out now!" He and a dozen others proceeded to buy out some
local farmer's daily offering. Our bus was ahead of schedule and I thought it was neat that our driver was so
enthusiastic about supporting local business. Moldova is the poorest country in Europe. There are many farmers,
but their crops don't bring in much revenue. I often paid just 25 US cents for two big bunches of lettuce when I
bought produce at the downtown open air market in Odessa which is full of Moldovan farmers who bring their
crop to market each day.

Question of the Day: Can anyone tell me what tree this is? Does it exist in the United States?
Do you see the little green, spiky seed pods?

"Kid History" Short Films

2011-08-06T02:00:00.000-05:00

The themes of my blog posts are definitely indicative of both my current mental state and physical location. Already two posts about kids this week...Can you guess where I am?
Home, with my five younger siblings, of course.

They always have some hilarious youtube video that they're absolutely dying to show me. Half the time I'm thinking, how do they come across these things anyway? Inevitably, it's a friend of a friend who's cousin showed them the video on an iPhone while at a sleepover for some sports team....or something equally complex. But most of the time they do turn out to be pretty funny, if you can get past the initial oddity.

These are the latest in my fourteen-year-old sister's youtube discoveries...
Give these short films a try; they just might make you laugh!

People's Republic of Beer

2011-08-06T01:40:00.000-05:00

"How one man’s yeast research is propagating China’s craft beer culture"

I read an article about the proliferation of micro-brewing in China in Beer West magazine this afternoon while sipping a glass of Pinot Gris at Southern Oregon Brewing Company, our neighborhood brewery and taproom where my parents are regulars. Unfortunately S.O.B. doesn't offer any gluten-free beers, so I'm restricted to wine (but really, with a plethora of award-winning Southern Oregon wines at my fingertips, I can hardly complain).

Visiting with my Grandpa Rick at Southern Oregon Brewing Co.

What stood out to me most in this article about Yan Gao's new enterprise is his innovative solution to the obstacles posed by China's often hostile business climate, which can be especially unfriendly toward small businesses. Beer West's Emily Hutto writes,

"While microbreweries in the U.S. receive tax breaks if they're producing under a certain amount of beer, microbreweries in China must comply with macro-brewery laws, which dictate higher tax rates and expensive facility requirements that most small breweries can't afford. That is, unless they find a loophole.

Yan Gao inspecting yeast cultures in his lab.
photo by Bjoern Walter

In 2008, Gao opened Nanjing's first microbrewery, Oktoberfest Biotech Co.
While friends and imbibers recognize Oktoberfest as a fully-licensed production brewery, the state recognizes it as a yeast research firm. It's illegal for Chinese companies to dump their byproduct, in this case beer, so Gao drinks and sells it instead. 'I know how to deal with those dummies,' he says of the Chinese government. 'In order to grow yeast, we need to make beer. And in order to save the environment, we need to "recycle" the beer.'"

I love this nothing-will-stop-me entrepreneurial spirit and passion for his craft.

Earlier in the article, Hutto quotes Gao's statement that "Beer in China is like water."

She goes on to explain Gao's beginnings, telling the story of how he complained to the owner of a local cafe one night about the bad beer they were serving and bragged about his own brewing skills. "The owner said, 'If you can brew it, I will sell it.' And that's where we are today," says Gao.

"Upon opening Oktoberfest, Gao immediately attracted followers, who quickly became fanatics, begging him to provide them with homebrew supplies and more advice. Now, in addition to extensive 'yeast research,' Oktoberfest also sells basic homebrew supplies to get new brewers started. In the first three months, it sold to more than 100 customers, all of whom will be overjoyed to learn that Gao is authoring a new how-to book, Drink Your Own Brew! He will be the first Chinese author to write a book (in Chinese) about homebrewing."

I think this is such a neat story! My thesis research has me reading all sorts of articles about the formation of entrepreneurial intentions -- the process of a potential entrepreneur deciding to start a business. Just yesterday I read an article published last month about a recent study which investigated the presence and formation of entrepreneurial intentions in developing countries (such as China, Russia, and Brazil) versus developed countries (USA, France, Australia, etc.). Among other specifics, the results of this study found that "Students in developing countries report significantly higher intentions...than students in developed countries." Researchers behind this study write, "These findings support our argument that entrepreneurial activities can flourish in more turbulent environments, and that a combination of constantly appearing new opportunities in the market together with uncertainty about the future, even with a salaried job, may stimulation young people to engage in entrepreneurial activities."

Of course it's interesting to read about the theoretical implications of such studies, but I find it even more exciting to discover first-hand the real life experiences of entrepreneurs who battle excessive red tape and oppressive tax laws with innovative thinking to make their business ideas a reality. And it's great to hear when, like Yan Gao, they come out on top!

The beginning of this article, "People's Republic of Beer," can be viewed on Beer West's website: http://www.beerwestmag.com/the-magazine/peoples-republic-of-beer/
You will need to subscribe to the magazine (at least the online edition) in order to read the full article.

Where Children Sleep

2011-08-05T17:07:00.000-05:00

Every so often a book comes along that really captures the soul of its subject. James Mollison's Where Children Sleep does just that, and in an unconventional way -- by photographing the bedrooms of children around the world.

I read this NYTimes article about Mollison's new book, and, after browsing through the sneak peek photo gallery, look forward to purchasing a hard copy of the tome.

P.S.....I hear the cover's glow-in-the-dark. All the more reason to add it to your library!!

Ukrainian Summer

2011-07-31T02:57:00.001-05:00

One day, a few months ago, I turned on my camera to snap a shot of something interesting and accidentally flipped it to the video dial. Later, while uploading and reviewing my photos on my computer, I ran across this video clip and was so happy about the mistake -- seeing the 15-second clip really brought back to life the memory and the experience of that day.

And so here and there, whenever I remember, I try to catch little clips of the day - both the exciting once-in-a-lifetime moments and the everyday routines. Things like riding the tram, grocery shopping, and hanging out with friends at the pub are so easily forgotten in the hustle and bustle of continuing life in yet another new city. I wanted something dynamic to remind me of my summer in Odessa. While sitting in Kiev's Borispol Airport this weekend I compiled my clips from the last few months in Ukraine and voilà...

Ukrainian Summer from shirah-eden on Vimeo.
A compilation of the short clips I've taken throughout my summer studying in Odessa, Ukraine, plus travels to Yalta and Chisinau, Moldova.

I'm not quite satisfied with the quality of the video - especially when it's compressed and uploaded to the internet; but considering that it was shot entirely with a little point-and-shoot camera, it's okay for a first time experiment. I'm thinking of investing in a nice, compact, higher-quality video camera that travels easy. The next one should be better!

July 2011 - A Whirlwind of Excitement!

2011-07-24T15:32:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe that it's been practically an entire month since I've updated No Journey Wasted! I appreciate the concerned notes from family and friends, but I don't want you to worry -- I've really been quite well (and busy!) and just haven't had a chance to upload any of the hundreds of pictures I've taken during my recent trips to Kiev, to Yalta (in the Crimea region of Ukraine), and to Chisinau (Moldova). These have all been fantastic journeys during which I've met wonderful, interesting people; been confronted by a mixture of beautiful scenery and impoverished peoples; and experienced some events that I will surely never forget. Among these: Watching dolphins in the tranquil, early morning waters off the Black Sea coast in Yalta; Playing cards all night in the train with an adorable Moldovan girl and her ballerina mother on the way back to Odessa from Simferopol, Ukraine; and randomly meeting one of my best childhood friends who was vacationing in Odessa while on leave from his deployment in Afghanistan. Life continues to be full of surprises!

Visiting with John, one of my best friends from Oregon,
who I happened to run into in Odessa! Small world!!

As my departure from Odessa draws near and my 2011 Eurasian journey comes to an end, I'm finding myself excited about the few weeks I have ahead with my family in Oregon, and also constantly reflecting on the lifetime's worth of memories I have of the past seven months.

This year taken me back to Belgium and then for the first time to Spain, Holland, Russia, Finland, Estonia, Ukraine, and Moldova. There is so much to learn and appreciate in each of these cultures. One theme that continues to affirm itself is the existence of warm, open people in every country who love to learn and are excited about life and
curious about the world they live in. I can assure you that they exist in every country and speak every language.

Dasha, the Moldovan girl whom we met on the train one
weekend. The next weekend I visited Chisinau and she
gave me a wonderful tour of her hometown!

People like this are pure energy to me; perhaps that's why my average night's sleep is dwindling to about three hours. I must take advantage of the opportunity to speak, travel, and spend time with them while absorbing their ideas and life experiences! These past two weeks have been some of the most rewarding I've experienced in quite a while; I've achieved a level of fluency in Russian that allows me to easily converse about most daily life topics, including stories, anecdotes, travels, education, business (to a certain extent), goals, and dreams. This has allowed me to really get to know some of the Ukrainian people I've been interacting with for the past eight weeks -- people like my trainers at the gym where I workout every afternoon after class.

Dima and Andrei - my trainers at Strekoza Gym.

Which brings me to another topic - my daily routine in Odessa. During the week I have four hours of Russian language classes every day. The tuition I paid was the group rate, but upon arrival my level in Russian was much higher than they expected, and the other students in group classes happened to be all beginners at the moment, so they essentially had to start a new group in which I was the only student. That meant private lessons! After one week, a student from Germany arrived and in addition to becoming my new flat-mate, she became my classmate as well. Anna and I became quite good friends during the three weeks she spent here and it was hard to see her go. My other classmates have included Alan - an enthusiastic middle-aged man from Flanders (Belgium), working for the Belgian Verification Agency, who loves history, is an atheist and is absolutely certain that there are developed civilizations on other planets, and has a great sense of humour; Jose from Spain, who works for the European Commission in Brussels, was married once long ago, and - despite his lack of fluency in Russian - can get almost any point across using gestures; Roberto, from Italy - a laid-back, reserved businessman who's quite fluent in Russian and works for a European firm in Moldova; and Guenaëlle - from France, an outspoken, politically conservative film critic in her 60's who is learning Russian so that she can view and write reviews of Russian cinematography. At this level of language study our lessons revolve around reviewing grammar but above all acquiring vocabulary, so with themes on ecology/pollution, marriage/family relations, religion, politics/immigration, history, and literature, you can imagine how interesting our classroom discussions can get. I'm continuously impressed with the way Olga, our wonderful professor, so respectfully and tactfully allows (and helps) each of us to express our views - in Russian, of course - and then mediates the discussion and keeps us on track with our study goals.

The view from our beach towel study zone.
(Exceptionally difficult Russian texts are broken up by
frequent swimming in the sea.)

Classes end at 13.00, and I'm off to the gym for a much-needed mental break. My Swiss roommate, Maud, is an international-level competitive figure skater, and even though she couldn't skate during her month in Odessa, she still needed to stay in shape. We got a gym membership together at a club near our school, and it was great fun to have a workout partner while she was here! Around 15.00 we'd finish up and head down to the beach straightaway to sunbathe and do our homework. By 18.00 we were back home, washing up for dinner and drinks out with our friends from the language school, or running to the deli for an easy, delicious Ukrainian rotisserie-chicken dinner. Maud left on Thursday, and it's the first time I've cried in a long time. I didn't realize how much we did together!

Dinner at a beach-side club/restaurant on Odessa's famous Arcadia strip after an afternoon of seaside recreation.

Today a new roommate from France arrived to occupy the room that Maud left on Thursday, and I took advantage of the opportunity to show him around the city and explore some new neighborhoods for myself. Of course, I couldn't call it an excursion without taking my camera along. This is my favorite photo of the day...

Two Women Selling Melons

There is much, much more to share of these past few weeks. I'm especially excited about the dozens of 30-second film clips I started taking of both special events and daily-life in Ukraine. I can't wait to meld these together into a short film so that you can have a taste of the sights and sounds of Eastern Europe.

Adventures in Odessa

2011-06-26T15:57:00.000-05:00

I just updated my blog subscription list and realized I have a whole new problem - in the best sense of the word. My friends and blog subscribers include English, French and Russian speakers...and I want to keep in touch with all of you, so where/when possible I'll try to add translations for stories and captions.
Je viens de me rendre compte que, de nouveau, j'ai fait des amis uniquements francophones et russophones - donc je commence à faire des traductions pour que tout le monde puisse suivre :)

Поняла, что мои новые французкие, русские и украйнские друзья, не говоряющие по-английский не будут мочь читать эти истории. Поэтому переводу когда возможно.

Between classes and homework I've been trying to fit in a few daily excursions around Odessa. These often include a trip to the beach -- a convenient ten minute walk from the language school.
Après les cours nous avons beaucoup de temps libre et on va souvent à la plage boire un verre ou bien nager. L'école se trouve seulement dix minutes de la plage donc on se promener jusqu'à la mer presque tous les jours. C'est là, où se passe souvent des histoires mémorables.

После уроков мы с другими студентами часто ходим на пляж или погулаем по городу. Школа находиться только 10 минут пешком от пляжа поэтому, почти каждый день мы ходим к море - или загарать или пить пиво и капучино в наше любимое кафе на берегу моря....Кафе пиратов!

One of the guys in our group had to go to the bathroom on our way to the beach, so he stepped into the little forest...only to be stopped by two local police on mopeds who tried to ticket him and take him to the police station. Instead he paid a $10 bribe and was sent on his way. Or rather escorted to this toilet, if you can call it such. The funniest part is that above the "TOILET" part of that sign it says platny -- you must pay to pee in this hole in the ground. You would think there are more pressing matters for the police to attend to, but I guess if you've been designated "Beach Squad" the most exciting bust of the day would be someone peeing illegally in the bushes.
En fait c'est une drôle d'histoire...un de nos amis a décider de faire pipi dans les bois en route à la plage et s'est fait arrêter par deux flics en mobylette - trop marrant. Au lieu de payer un gros tarif et se rendre a la poste de police, il a soudoyé environs 8 euro et puis s'est trouvé devant cette toilette. Plutôt un trou dans le sol, mais on a quand-même dû payé. J'imagine que les flics était très contents d'avoir appliqué la loi ce jour là....et aussi gagné un peu d'argent pour eux-mêmes en même temps.
Один из наших друзьей решил писать в лесу по пути на пляж. Плохая идея потому, что пляжская милиция его остонавливала и он должен был заплатить взятку - 200 гривень. Потом заплатил туалет на пляже - еще хуже чем писать в лесу. Видно у милиции недостаточно настоящих злоумышленников!

Megan and I look deceivingly happy about that
storm rolling in behind us.
On apparaît beaucoup plus heureux qu'on a été vraiment...il y a eu un grand orage
qui est arrivé très vite et notre après-midi à la plage a été raté!
Тропическая буря - мы действительно не были так счастливые.

The sky dropped 5+ inches of rain in about 15 minutes.
Impressive tropical storm! I get the impression this was a rare occasion because the
Ukrainian beach-goers were going crazy dancing in the rain!
Ca a été déjà la déluge après seulement quinze minutes!
Через 15 минут уже маленькое наводнение!

After the storm. Après l'orage...belle plage toute mouillée! После бури.

I visited Odessa's Roman-Catholic cathedral a few blocks from my flat, and enjoyed the
simplicity of the interior. The Orthodox churches are certainly beautiful in their own
special way, but there's something peaceful about the monochrome symmetry
of this cathedral.
C'est la cathédrale qui se trouve pas trop loin de notre apart. J'aime bien les
cathédrales Orthodoxes, mais je trouve que ces cathédrales catholiques qui sont plutôt
simples sont aussi paisibles.
Католический собор в Одессе. Простой но спокойный.

I live right above the Adidas store.
Smack in the middle of downtown.
Couldn't ask for a better location.
J'habite au-dessus du magasin Adidas :)
Я живу наверху...выше Adidas!

This is called "Passage." And that's exactly what it is. An alley in downtown Odessa
that has been covered with a glass roof to preserve the beautiful statues that adorned
these buildings when built at the end of the 19th century -- a time when Odessa was
under enormous French influence. All the nobility and higher class Odessites spoke
French, and the city's architecture, statues, and monuments reflect a certain reverence
for all things French. (...Especially the Odessa champagne factory that will be featured
in an upcoming article.)
Today "Passage" feels more like indoors than an alley thanks to the tile; the bottom
floor is lined with shops, and the top three floors are occupied by the Passage Hotel.
Dans le centre de la ville il y a une passage très belle, construite à la fin du
IXX siècle. Une réfléction de l'influence français sur la région d'Odessa.
Вот "Пассаж" в центре города -- построенный в конце 19-ого века.
Очень красивый!

It's difficult to see the intricacy of the carving due to
the lack of any deviation in the color of the statues.
But trust me, they are magnificent!
C'est vraiment difficle de voir les détails des statues
parce que le tout est très complexe.
Невозможно видеть все детали - эти сложные статуи.

I always peek into this alley on my way to school in the morning. It makes me happy.
Tous les jours en route à l'école je m'arrête pour regarder cette allée; elle me rend toujours heureuse!
Каждый день я хожу в школу но захожу в этот пассаж потому, что мне нравиться.

Not quite sure what this is. Or even where I found it.
However, the unique blend of classical Doric columns, Gothic (?) spires, and Romanesque domes immediately
caught my attention. I have the feeling that this building was pieced together and reconstructed several times over
many years. The columned façade at the front makes me think "court" but the crosses at the top say otherwise.
Cette belle mélange de tous sorts d'architecture et très chouette.
Mais je ne sais même pas où dans la ville je l'ai trouvé!
Здесь есть такие различные стили архитектуры!

Every day I cross a bridge that looks down over this seemingly deserted alley. I've never seen
a live person down there; just parked cars. Apparently a new law shut down all casinos in the
city last year. And thus the Cristal Palace met its end.
I'm thinking....roller rink? skate park? swimming complex? gymnasium? all-in-one fitness center?
Unfortunately the economic situation here isn't looking up and no one's investing. One of my
friends' brother was a (successful) investment banker in Kiev for years but got laid off on Friday.
Je n'ai jamais vu personne dans cette rue; elle est complètement désertée. L'année passée
une nouvelle loi s'est passée dans l'Ukraine qui a fermé tous les casinos.
Malheureusement, personne n'a le capital pour investir et reconstuire qqch d'autre dans
cet endroit.
Никогда не видела ни человека ни собаки на этой улице...совершенно пустынная улочка.
Говорят, что в прошлом году новый закон закрыл все касино. Не знаю, что будет стать
это здание.

I guess this is what happens when you live with
French people....the fridge magically fills up with
Champagne and other alcoholic beverages. Note that
my shelf (the third one down) is the only one containing
water and a fresh produce :)
J'habite avec des français et du coup on a de champagne
et tous sorts d'alcool dans le frigo! C'est moi la seule
avec des fruits et légumes.
Живу с французяами и вот - шампанское всегда в
холодильнике! Только у меня фрукты и овощи! :)

Mmmmm....who's up for "red caviar and oil" flavored corn puffs?
(These unmistakably went back onto the shelf and not into my shopping
cart, above which you see them dangerously hovering.)
Qui veut du chips au goût de caviar rouge et d'huile? J'ai été vraiment
tentée mais enfin je ne les ai pas acheté.
Никогда не видела чипсы из чёрного икры! Но не купила - я не
такая смелая!

This is the picture I want to leave you with. These two little boys were playing in our courtyard
when I came home yesterday and I watched them torture each other with this hose for about ten minutes -- all smiles,
of course! Pure joy on their faces. I wish I could bottle that!
Ces deux p'tits garçons habitent dans l'apartement derrière le mien - ils sont super mignons et jouent très bien
ensemble. C'est une image de joie pour améliorer ta journée!
Эти маленькие мальчики живут за наши квартиры и они очень очень милы! Я хочу разговаривать и играть с
ними но в то время только снимала фотогафию их игры с садовым шлангом.

The Little Team

2011-06-24T08:59:00.000-05:00

As the big sister of a lot of little soccer players, I loved this short documentary.
Above all, it's coaches with attitudes like these that make the biggest difference in a young person's life!

l'equip petit from el cangrejo on Vimeo.

Stuck

2011-06-22T00:37:00.000-05:00

This made me laugh! Especially when I read this comment by another viewer:
"Two guys made this video after being stuck in an airport in Dallas, with their flight delayed overnight. Homeland security is wondering how they got away with this."

STUCK from Joe Ayala on Vimeo.
While on our way home from photographing Formula Drift Palm Beach, Larry Chen and I found ourselves stranded over night in Dallas Fort Worth (DFW) as our flights home were canceled. The following is a brief summary of the events that took place that night.
Check out our other videos at vimeo.com/tod

Quote of the Day

2011-06-14T06:24:00.000-05:00

So there's really only one blog that I consistently follow, and this is because it's fun and whimsical, doesn't take much time, and always brightens my day. Her name is Anne; she's the mother of a beautiful, tender-hearted six-year-old daughter, named Capucine, and a fun 11-year-old boy name Aliocha. Even though I've never met them, I almost feel like I know this family because of all the stories I've read about on the blog. I would welcome the chance to meet them someday.

From time to time Anne puts up little quotes and conversations from Capu and Aliocha's interactions with their friends and family. This one really cracked me up! Can you imagine how her dad, Hervé, felt after this?

Hervé :	I'm sorry Capucine, but I won't be able to attend your school party on the 28th. That's the same day as this concert I told you about, you know, the one I'm going to with uncle C. I can't miss it. I'm really sorry, honey. But Mom will be there and she'll take pictures and videos for me.
Capucine :	Oh... It's ok, Dad, don't worry !
(pause)
Capucine :	Will you be there for my wedding ?

Capucine

The Entire French Language Condensed into One Word

2011-06-14T06:11:00.000-05:00

I happen to know that the girl that made this video loves French, Paris, and everything that has to do with France; so please, dear francophone friends...don't take offense. You have to admit she's pretty cute!

How well do you perceive color?

2011-06-12T04:24:00.000-05:00

Take the Hue Test and find out. I scored a 4.
It's interesting to see which areas of the spectrum you have problems perceiving.

A perfect score is 0 and the worst possible score is 1520.

The Fontanka Most Project

2011-06-11T15:34:00.000-05:00

While living in St. Petersburg, I crossed the most (bridge) over the Fontanka canal every morning on my way to work. Sometime in the first few weeks I started to notice that the view from the most could change drastically from day to day, and I got into the habit of stopping to shoot a photo every few days. It gave me a moment to pause, relax, be thankful for another day, and then continue my forty-minute commute with a new vigor. While tidying up and cataloging my photos this weekend, I ran across this collection and it made me smile as I thought back on my time in St. Pete and the little things that made each day special.

Feb.15

Mar.21

Mar.23

Mar.24

Mar.27

Mar.28

Mar.29

Mar.30

Mar.31

Apr.4

Apr.5

Apr.6

Apr.7

Apr.9

Apr.10

Apr.11

Apr.12

Apr.13

Apr.14

May.14

I'm so thankful to have had the chance to spend a few months in one of the world's most northern cities and experience the changing of the seasons like never before. When I arrived in St. Petersburg in the first week of February, I walked to and from work in the dark; daylight hours were from about 9.00 to 16.00. By the time I left in the first week of June, the famous White Nights had started, and my sleep schedule was all out of whack because we had practically 24 hours of daylight. There was only a brief hour or so (from about 1.30 - 2.30 am) that the light waned to almost dusk. The planet we live on is an incredible work of art!

Privoz Market

2011-06-11T05:36:00.001-05:00

Privoz is Odessa's biggest and oldest open air market. It occupies three huge warehouses, an awning the size of a football field, and tons of semi-permanent and completely temporary stalls. People sell their goods off of anything. Some just squat around the perimeter of the market and display their garden herbs on a piece of cardboard. You can buy anything at Privoz - from homegrown veggies to knock-off coach bags, plucked chickens that are so fresh they're practically still moving, to freshly-squeezed juice, q-tips, and screwdrivers. And it's open 24 hours. At about 6.30 pm the consumer-oriented day-sellers go home and the bulk goods vendors quickly file in.

For the mixer we hosted at our flat last night, my house-mate Adrien and I went on a wild shopping adventure at Privoz. We quickly learned some survival methods...

Tip: Buy from the starushki -- the old folks.
We've been told that no one at Privoz is honest, but at least the old folks are generally nicer, more willing to bargain, and they speak slow and loud so we actually do have a chance to bargain. We bought carrots from this little babushka and think we've made a friend for life.

Get your bucket of spuds here!

This lady wasn't quite as nice, but we couldn't find any
starushki selling cherry tomatoes, so we compromised.

This babushka was especially sweet. Adrien really wanted those red
things hanging there. I don't know the name, but it's some kind of slightly
sweet red fruit paste/gel, in which you roll up chopped walnuts, and then
hang-dry and let the casing harden. A slightly sweet treat!

The spice booths were my favorite.

That's not really Coke...it's fresh juice squeezed from something that
tastes like cranberries. Adrien bought juice from this starushik last week
and then introduced me to him yesterday. We bargained pretty well,
and he handed me one of the long red hanging candies as a present as
we walked away.

Dried fish, anyone?

Running by the candy store; it's all a blur.

Farmers and vendors use the cheapest and most accessible means possible to bring
their goods to market. This means recycling water and Coke bottles as well as other
reusable bags, boxes, jars, and packaging.

The hustle and bustle of life at Privoz.

Privoz is about a 25-minute walk from the flat, so with our hands full of goods tied up in little plastic sacks, we ran towards a marshrutka to catch a ride back to the city center. "What luck!" we thought as we hopped on. Usually marshrutki barely slow down long enough for a few passengers to jump on or off. This one had remained stationary as we jogged toward it from 30 meters away. As soon as we got on and the doors closed, however, we realized why it wasn't moving. The driver grabbed his man-purse and hopped out. He ran back behind the bus to where a police car was parked and was there for at least ten minutes - undoubtedly paying some bribe - as his paying passengers wilted in the 90+ degrees F inside the marshrutka. The automatic doors were closed and wouldn't open, and there was only one 6"x12" window open. One lady kept pacing back and forth from the back to front doors, fanning herself, and appeared to be on the verge of a panic attack. I was only slightly annoyed by the fact that my lettuce was starting to wilt.
In the end, our driver came jogging back to his marshrutka and we were on our way. Only a slight hiccup in our pre-party preparations.

Privoz is much cheaper than the grocery stores around here, and - if you can get over the very organic smell of the place (and by organic I mean freshly killed meat, eggs with the chicken poop still on them, and the many compost piles located throughout the market) - then you'll find that the quality of the products is actually much better and goods much fresher than in the supermarkets. Privoz makes visiting WholeFoods seem like an artificial "organic" experience. Adrien and I decided to go back and buy our groceries there each week for the rest of our seven weeks here and keep building good customer-vendor relationships with our favorite starushki.

Phonetics and Russian Poetry

2011-06-11T02:20:00.000-05:00

Russians love poetry. Especially St. Petersburgians. I've never met a group of people so well-versed in poetry and literature. Not only do they burst into spontaneous poetry recitation in daily conversation (usually when the topic of discussion reminds them of a good poem), they also highly revere the persona of Russian writers and can provide extensive information about their lives, their families, where and when they wrote, and the symbolism and meaning of their works. It's also interesting to note that this love of literature is not class specific. I've heard professors, office workers, students, museum guides, a slightly-not-all-there guy on the street, and even a babushka selling flowers (what some would call a "bag lady") reciting poetry.

The Cyrillic Alphabet

This week I've been taking advantage of my private lessons to work a lot on phonetics, so I've been paying extra attention to intonation, stress, timbre, and rhythm. And, following the advice of my professor, I've been reading aloud to myself to practice all of these things and to increase my reading speed. (Since Russian is written using the Cyrillic alphabet, learning to read in Russian is quite literally like going back to Kindergarten. It takes time to learn to sight read - to recognize new and ever-bigger words without having to sound them out.) After running across a short poem in my new Russian textbook a few days ago, and then reflecting on Russians' love of poetry, I decided that reading and memorizing a few poems could give me some interesting conversation material when I'm making new Ukrainian friends, and could also really help убирать ("remove") my accent, as they say in Russian. The word is pronounced "oobeeROT" but spelled "ubirat" and for some reason it always makes me think of the English word "obliterate." It's funny how our brains make such connections, often subconsciously. Bottom line: I'd really like to obliterate my accent.

There is a man in his 60's here from Barcelona, also taking Russian classes. His name is Luis, and I was sitting in the lobby of the school with him the other day. Luis and I were speaking a strange mixture of English and Spanish, and even though this is only his second week of Russian classes and he practically doesn't understand anything in Russian, I kept throwing out Russian phrases because that's just the language I was thinking in at the time. After Luis left, I started talking to another guy in the lobby, named Roman, who turned out to be a Ukrainian man from Odessa who is doing a type of residency before he starts to teach Spanish and English at the school. A few minutes into our conversation I said something about reallying liking Odessa, and how it reminds me a lot of my hometown, San Luis Obispo, in California.
He said, "What? You're from California? I thought you were from Odessa."
"No, no, no - I just got here last weekend! What made you think I was Ukrainian?"
"Well," he replied, "You were speaking in mostly English and Spanish with this man from Spain who doesn't speak any Russian, and yet you kept using Russian phrases. Plus, you were saying them without an accent. I thought you just didn't know how to say these things in English, so you were saying them in Russian and hoping he might understand."
I couldn't help but laugh. But it was a nice compliment; I appear to be one step closer to obliterating my accent.

And then last night...
Adrien - my French roommate - and I hosted a party at our flat for the entire school (about 20 people). There's one girl that I had yet to meet because she's an anthropologist and has been out all week on a dig in a village about an hour away. She's from Michigan, but has been studying Slavic languages for about a decade and speaks Russian and Ukrainian fluently, as well as a dialect called something like "Sorjik," which is a mixture of Russian and Ukrainian and not a proper language at all, but more of a butchering of the two languages. Everyone said she's a really sweet girl, and she sounds like she would be really interesting to talk to, so I was looking forward to meeting her.
When she arrived, I was in the kitchen chopping cucumbers. Adrien walked her into the kitchen, pointing at me and saying to her (in his very French accent), "Deborah, zis is Shirah, she lives here, too. And I zink she is from zee same place as you." I was explaining something to some Ukrainian girls who were helping me prepare the snacks, but turned my attention to Deborah as she approached the table, just in time to hear her say, "I don't think so...." She trailed off, furrowing her brow and scrunching up her nose in confusion. "....I'm from the United States."
"Oh! I am too!" I smiled at her.
"Okay, wow," she smiled back, "but you have definitely spent some time around Europeans. You don't sound like you're from the States."

So while I may be making progress in Russian, it appears that I'm backpedaling in my native tongue? Maybe I should start memorizing some English poems! Nevertheless, here's my first Russian poem. This is a poem by Anna Akhmatova - one of the most well-loved Soviet poets - and was written in 1964:

А я иду, где ничего не надо,            
Где самый милый спутник — только тень,  
И веет ветер из глухого сада,         
А под ногой могильная ступень.

And now I go, where nothing is needed,
Where the very best guide is only a ghost,
And blows the wind from an overgrown garden,
And underfoot a gravestone.

Recipe for "Syrniki" - Russian Cheesecakes

2011-06-10T00:41:00.000-05:00

I translated (and elaborated a little on) this recipe for a friend, and decided to share it on the blog as well. This is for the Syrniki we made with Sergei last week. You can view the photo gallery of these delicious little cheesecakes and our cooking session in the original post.

Here's the original recipe, and below, my translation.

СЫРНИКИ

Норма продуктов:

Творог – 3 пачки (600 г); мука пшеничная – 3-4 ст. ложки в тесто и ½ стакана для обваливания; крахмал картофельный – 2 ст. ложки; 2 яйца; щепотка соли; масло подсолнечное; сметана или густая ряженка, сливочное масло, варенье.

Взбить яйца. Если творог слишком сырой – положить его в частое сито или х/б мешочек и отжать излишек жидкости. Смешать творог и яйца. Посолить. Добавить крахмал и 3-4 ст. ложки муки – в зависимости от густоты получившейся массы. Все тщательно перемешать. На доску или в плоскую широкую тарелку насыпать муки тонким слоем. Брать творожную массу ложкой, скатывать в шарики и обваливать их в муке. Жарить на разогретой сковороде на постном масле до образования румяной корочки с обеих сторон. Затем поставить в нагретую духовку или накрыть сковороду крышкой и оставить на плите (на слабом огне) на 5 минут.

Перед подачей на стол горячие сырники смазать сливочным маслом или полить сметаной или густой ряженкой. Варенье или мед подаются к сырникам отдельно. В тесто перед жаркой можно добавить немного изюма без косточек.

RUSSIAN "SYRNIKI" CHEESECAKES

600 grams cottage cheese (It should be moist but not contain much extra liquid. If it's watery, try draining it through cheesecloth.)
3-4 tablespoons white flour for the dough (and extra white flour for rolling your dough balls in)
2 tbsp. potato starch
2 eggs
a pinch of salt
sunflower oil (for the frying pan)
sour cream (higher fat content = better taste)
butter
jam/preserves or honey (in a separate serving bowl for the topping)

Beat the eggs. If the cottage cheese is a too watery, try putting it through a fine sieve or in cheese cloth and squeeze out the excess liquid. Mix the cottage cheese in with the eggs. Then add a pinch of salt and 3-4 tablespoons of flour, depending on the consistency of the dough. It should be much less firm than bread dough, but not watery like pancake mix. Mix everything thoroughly.
Spread a thin layer of flour over a cutting board or tray. Use a spoon to scoop the dough into balls, and then roll them in the flour, finally flattening the cheesecakes a bit so they are just about the same size as a hamburger patty.
Heat sunflower oil in a pan (just enough to cover the bottom of the pan). Cast-iron skillets work best. Make sure your cheesecake patties have a nice layer of flour around the outside and then drop them into the pan. Fry until golden brown on both sides.

Once fried to golden perfection, transfer them to a preheated oven or cover the pan with a lid and leave them on the stove on low heat for 5 minutes.

Before serving the cheesecakes, you may butter them or sprinkle with powdered sugar. Serve sour cream and jam preserves/honey separately. The Russian method is to cover the cheesecake with "as much sour cream as you can handle." Your cheesecake should practically "be swimming" in sour cream and jam.

For some variation, the recipe suggests adding seedless raisins to the dough before forming the cheesecakes. I personally recommend trying them with blueberries, chocolate chips, or banana, and even adding some finely chopped almonds or almond flour to the flour that you roll them in before frying.

If you make them, be sure to leave a comment about your experience!

Cooking Class With Sergei

2011-06-06T07:57:00.000-05:00

My studies in Russia and Ukraine have been organized through SRAS - the School of Russian and Asian Studies. I've been overall satisfied with the assistance provided by the organization. I heavily corresponded with Renee, the director, for two years as I tried to set this up. It seemed like no matter what time I emailed her, I always got a response back within 1-2 hours. SRAS helped me obtain the priglashenye (invitation) to study in Russia that was needed for my visa; they set up my housing, enrolled me in the school, met me at the airport, and provided lots of information about the places I would go. They also provided the comfort of knowing that I could call a local resident an any time if I needed help. But other than that they have been pretty hands off, and that's the way I like exchange programs in general.

One thing that I've really enjoyed, however, is participating in some of the optional tours that SRAS offers. Do you remember Sergei's guided walking tour of downtown St. Pete? It was absolutely a wonderful time. The same multi-talented Sergei (a professor and culture enthusiast) took us to a play by Gogol at the Aleksandrinskiy Theatre, on a tour of The Russian Museum, and invited us over to make and eat syrniki -- the highlight of today's blog post.

Syrniki (in Russian: сырники) are hands-down my new favorite Russian food. Сыр means "cheese" and so сырники are little cheese pancakes! They are made with tvorog -- cottage cheese. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Russians really know how to do dairy. I'm convinced that's it's their no-fear attitude towards fat content that makes the milk, cottage cheese, sour cream, butter, yogurt - and even mayonnaise - so good. The cottage cheese in Russia is a bit different from what you'd typically find in the States. For one, it's often very, very fresh, especially when you buy it at a rynok - market. And two, it's not as watery as we're used to. The curds are almost sticky and can easily be whipped into a paste.
Get ready for some Сырники with Sergei...

First, add all the ingredients...cottage cheese, an egg, and a little bit of flour

Mix it all up.

A fist-full of dough forms the perfect-sized сырники

Maria, Hillary, and Sarah get their hands dirty

Heat some sunflower oil in a pan and fry them up!

The fact that they are 99% cottage cheese makes them so soft inside!

Traditional toppings are sour cream and jam. Sergei bought apricot
jam for us at the local market.

When at first we put on a little dop of sour cream, Sergei insisted that we
keep smothering our сырники in sour cream and jam until they weren't even
visible anymore. You should put "as much as you can handle," he said!
Of course mine looked like a mess (above).

On the other hand, Sarah, an art major, made сырники worthy of a
cooking magazine cover shot.

With the hard work behind us, Sarah, Hillary and I dig in!

Odessa: Ultimate Eastern European Vacation Destination

2011-06-05T16:41:00.000-05:00

I've been in Odessa for less than 48 hours, and already I've explored downtown on foot, eaten at some delicious local restaurants, refreshed my wardrobe with attire appropriate for the 95F (35C) weather, attended a spectacular performance of Madame Butterfly at the world-famous Odessa Opera House, spent a morning sunning on the beach (during which I fell asleep in the sun and will continue to pay for that nap as my sunburn becomes more and more painful), swam in the Black Sea, and made Ukrainian friends at the Irish pub next door to my apartment.

I was incredibly surprised to be taken to this huge apartment on one of Odessa's main streets when my flight got in at 2.00 am yesterday. Even at that hour it was a balmy 75F (24C). I was let in the door, handed a pair of keys and a city map, and left to sort things out on my own. I tried to be quiet as I investigated the salon, kitchen, and bathroom; after the St. Petersburg dormitory I was far too excited to have such a nice apartment and I wanted to see it all immediately!

I was still unpacking...but at least you can see the nice
16-foot ceilings in my apartment. There's also
another 1/3 of the room behind me (not shown in the
photo) where I have a desk to work at.

The bathroom, complete with Whirlpool tub.

The kitchen is not really this yellow. Something's off
with the white-balance in this photo.
But you get the idea.

I wasn't even able to capture the entirety of our huge living room in one
frame.

On my first walk around the neighborhood I found this memorial square.

A little further away, a tire fitting shop.

This building is quite intriguing. But what really caught my eye when I uploaded the photo to my computer is the
quality of the foliage. I didn't mess with the color saturation - this is really what the trees look like! It's hard to
place, but there's definitely something unique about the greenery here; it's gorgeous!

The "City Park" two blocks from my apartment.

I thought this was an interesting building...

...and then saw this one next right next to it and had to laugh!

The bottom of this 6-story mall is a grocery store.
Rather odd to have a birds-eye view of the produce section.

A church not far from my apartment.

I absolutely love this weather. Maybe it's because I was born in November, but I just can never get enough sun. 85-90F is the perfect temperature, in my opinion. My only dilemma is this: it's much too hot to even think about eating anything. After walking around all day yesterday on an empty stomach, I finally found a little restaurant down the street around 4.00 pm and practically collapsed. The menu offered lots of salads, so I picked the Цезар-Гречный -- a house special that entails a sort of Cesar and Greek salad mix. It was delicious! My eyes were somewhat bigger than my stomach when it came time to order, so of course I also asked for a dessert I've been wanting to try for a while: dried apricots and walnuts drenched in honey. This is a typical Central Asian dessert; I first heard about it from some Uzbek guys selling bulk nuts and fruit at a little market in Moscow. Three of my favorite foods proved to be even more delicious when thrown together.

I forgot to mention that I'm sharing the apartment with a French lady named Michelle - a world traveler and literature enthusiast in her fifties - and another French guy closer to my age, named Adrian. Adrian's girlfriend was also visiting this weekend from Paris. We try to speak Russian together, but both of them have only been studying Russian for three weeks and one week, respectively; so, needless to say, French is the lingua franca in the apartment. When I got home from my excursion yesterday Michelle invited me to join her and some friends from the Russian school for a performance of Madame Butterfly at the Odessa Opera House. I agreed, of course, and we set off. Amazingly, one of the best seats in the house set me back only $18 USD. It was a stunning, truly world-class performance.

The Odessa Opera House

Interior of the Opera House

The ceiling is a work of art all on its own

The set. The opera was performed in the original Italian, but the little screen hanging from the top of the curtain
provided "subtitles" - more appropriately would be "supra-titles" - in Ukrainian. Ukrainian is different from Russian,
and even has more and different letters in its alphabet, but there are enough similarities that I was easily able to
follow along.

Odessa has lots of stray dogs. I happened into this one as he was
relaxing in the shade with a nice view of the Black Sea.

First day on the beach.

It's hard to imagine a more perfect day when lounging on a shady terrace, sipping fruity ice tea, reading a book, feeling the breeze,
and watching the sea.

A typical street near the beach side of town.

Somehow the photo-stitch program can seamlessly stitch the most complex landscapes, and yet it fails to
connect the top and bottom halves of this lamp post?
P.S. - You can barely see the Black Sea to the right of that little statue.

I've promised blog posts on so many different things. However I seem to be at a time deficit, so even though

I've physically moved on to Ukraine, you'll see upcoming posts about Russia and - I'm embarrassed to admit, since it's been over a month since I left - even Finland. Part of the reason I haven't been updating lately was the sheer inconvenience of gaining internet access while living in the public dorms in St. Petersburg. The only building in the complex that had free WiFi was the prachechnaya -- laundry room -- and it closed at 11pm. You could pay to have WiFi installed in your room, but even though it was affordable the process could take up to two months. I'm not exaggerating. I was fortunate in that, of the 75+ acre (10-building) complex, my room was in the 1st floor corner of the building nearest the prachechnaya, and I was able to get two bars of WiFi signal if I put my laptop in the window sill. Two bars is enough to check email, Google the weather forecast, and make a garbled Skype call. The first time I called my mom from Odessa she said, "Oh, it sounds like you've gotten out of the fishbowl!" From my "fishbowl" in St. Petersburg, uploading high-resolution images was out of the question. And what is a travel blog without photos?

All of this to say: I now have 24-hour free WiFi in the comfort of my enormous mansion of an apartment in downtown Odessa and it will be so much easier to share my daily adventures. I've never been so organized with my camera equipment or taken so many pictures as I have on this trip, and I'm already reaping the rewards. I find myself in funny, strange, interesting, breathtaking, solemn, odd and surprising situations every single day. There's no way I can remember them all, but just one photograph can bring back the entire story!

One Recent Odd Event (for which I do not have photographic evidence):
Last night while walking to the Opera, a little old babushka got out of her white plastic lawn chair under a tree on the sidewalk, pulled down her pants, and started to pee right there on the sidewalk next to the curb. She looked to be at least 85 years old. You'd expect to see a teenage boy do such a thing...but a babushka? I wasn't able to wipe the surprised look off my face, prompting little old babushka to start yelling something at me, but she was speaking Ukrainian - not Russian - so I didn't catch it all.

Miche - enfin je ne peux pas tout raconter. Mais en tout cas j'adore Odessa et même que je n'ai pas encore été ici 48 heures, je m'amuse super bien et on a fait plein de choses. Dis à Youssef que j'écrirai bientôt un peu plus sur Cathérine II - j'en suis sûre qu'il en sait tout déjà sur ce sujet, mais peut-être que j'aurai des nouveaux images. J'habite avec des Français maintenant donc je le parle tout les jours et un de nos nouveaux amis pensait que j'était de France. Quand j'ai répondu, "Non, pas du tout," il a dit, "Ah oui, c'est vrai, tu as un p'tit accent." C'était quand même marrant! Bisous

St. Petersburg Center: A Guided Tour

2011-05-25T11:41:00.000-05:00

Last week one of the coordinators from the School of Russian and Asian Studies, named Sergei, led Sarah, Hillary, and I on a walking tour of central St. Petersburg. It was a warm, clear day and perfect for walking. It turns out Sergei is a professor at one of the universities in St. Petersburg, and he is a wealth of great information. Beyond simply knowing an immense amount of information about Russian culture and history, he is able to detach himself from his Russian identity and talk about issues objectively and in a global context.

"Dom Knigi" ("House of Books"), otherwise known as The Singer House.
It was the first building built in St. Pete by an American company,
(Singer Sewing Company), and at one time it even housed the
U.S. Consulate in St. Petersburg!

Summer is here and the city is eager to get roadwork done before
the next big freeze!

This center building, in green, is the fire inspection bureau. Sergei
explained that this bureau plays a special historical (and
contemporary) role in Russia. It's a tool used by the state to control
the organization of certain groups and companies. They might publicly
speak of democracy and freedom of speech, but political opposition
groups who try to establish a physical address are quickly shut down
because of their lack to meet "fire code." Sometimes, Sergei says, certain
organizations are temporarily shut down and then allowed to reopen (having
done no renovations) once they change their stance on an issue or resolve
whatever it was that led to the state's disapproval of them. This is exactly
what happened with the European University some years ago.

A government building across from St. Isaac's Cathedral.

I arrived at the Singer House a little reluctantly last Friday afternoon to meet for the tour. I'd just finished my classes for the week and was tired. What I really wanted was to sit down and rest. Plus, the Singer House is located right in the middle of my former commute from where I lived and worked during my Consulate internship. I was positive that I'd seen everything we would walk past, but since there were only four people invited and one had already declined, I felt rather obligated to show up. I'm so glad I did! What I thought would be a very basic 45-minute to one-hour walk to two or three typical tourist sites turned out to be an incredibly thought-provoking 4.5-hour tour and conversation.

The golden dome of St. Isaac's Cathedral. To the right is the
Hotel Astoria, where Hitler stayed once and planned to hold a banquet
for his groupies (which was apparently cancelled last minute).

The facade of St. Isaac's Cathedral.

These bronze doors in St. Isaac's are modeled after Lorenzo Ghiberti's Gates of Paradise
in the Baptistery in Florence, Italy (dating to the early 12th century). I visited the
Gates of Paradise in 2007, and then did a research project on them in a Medieval World
class at Belmont, so it was really neat to have some contextual information when I
visited St. Isaac's!

This model shows how the columns on either side of St. Isaac's were
erected. They are pure marble; polished on the ground and covered
with cloth and wood planks, then hoisted into position.
No one died and none of the columns were damaged in process.

St. Isaac's Cathedral is the third largest in Europe.

One character in a larger-than-life mosaic. The way that these mosaics reflect portray
such intricate shading reflects an amazing artistry.

Looking up at the central dome.

Unfortunately this came out blurry, but it's the only one I have of
the iconostasis. Thanks to Dr. Byrne, our well-loved Medieval World
Honors professor, I arrived in Russia with some knowledge of the
Russian Orthodox religion and the rationale behind Russian
Orthodox church architecture. An iconostasis is a wall or screen --
usually heftily decorated -- that separates the sanctuary from the nave.

Some women buy candles to light and place in front
of the icons. In the Russian Orthodox church
women are expected to wear head coverings when
inside the church building.

The green malachite used to cover these columns is only found in very
small pieces. The process of decorating the columns, therefore, is
similar to the application of gold leafing. There is much artistry involved,
as the architect actually creates the multi-colored design you see.

View from the top of St. Isaac's.

This blue-roofed church covered in gold stars is my favorite church in St. Petersburg!

Looking out over the park with the Bronze Horseman and beyond to
the Neva River. On the other side of the Neva lies Vasiliy Island.
On the island side, almost in the very center of this photo, is the
university building where I take Russian classes.

The trees are in full bloom and the parks are beautiful!

Another view from the top of St. Isaac's. These colorful onion-shaped
domes are atop The Church on Spilled Blood (called such because
it was constructed on the site of the carriage-bombing of Tsar
Alexander II. The grenade was thrown by what Wikipedia calls
"an anarchist conspirator").

The Hermitage, as seen from the top of St. Isaac's. The golden spire on the left belongs to the Admiralty.

Hillary, Sarah, and I at the top of St. Isaac's.

The Church on Spilled Blood

Our guide Sergei explains the assassination of Alexander II and the
construction of the Church on Spilled Blood.

A Sunny Day in St. Pete

2011-05-21T13:51:00.001-05:00

A while back, I started using a site called DailyMile as an exercise log. It has a neat feature that allows you to map your routes, and even save commonly-used routes such as a daily commute. I realized that my daily commute to school and back totals about 3.5 miles of walking (and about 40 minutes on the metro each way). When I plugged this in, and then added my other walking excursions, I was surprised to find out that I walked 29 miles last week!

I know it sounds unbelievable, but I happen to have 29 miles worth of photos to prove it. And we've had lots of sunny days lately, a climate which always inspires me to pull out my camera. In a city like St. Petersburg, I just can't resist the temptation to snap a photo of almost every building I pass.

Last weekend I set off with some new friends I met in "Kofe Haus" - a large chain of Starbucks-like cafes with free wifi - and we ended up walking around downtown for about 5 hours. After such a long walk and a few games of pool, we were so far into the negative with our daily calorie intake, we had to re-fuel on margaritas and empanadas at a local Mexican joint. It was pretty funny when the food was brought to our table and an Indian guy in the group who moved to Russia five years ago says: "I smell curry." It turned out to be the rice I ordered. Apparently Russia is so far away from Mexico that Mexican cuisine is more of a guessing game than anything!

Honestly, I can't name this building.

The playground in a downtown park.

The Bronze Horseman in the distance. This is a legendary statue and
a famous poem was written about it. More to come on this in a
follow-up post.

St. Isaac's Cathedral. I had a fantastic tour of this - the 3rd largest cathedral in
Europe - just yesterday.

"From Peter the First to Catherine the Second"
I'll explain this caption in my Bronze Horseman post.

This turned out to be just an office building. But it's quite striking
architecture.

Walking down Bolshoy Prospekt - I take this route to school every day.

On the water-front. My university is just a few buildings down
from the green-and-white one.

The Admiralty. (An admiralty is where ships are built. Peter I's hobby
was ship-building, so he had the admiralty built right next to the
Winter Palace -- aka the Hermitage -- and he actually paid himself a
salary, not for being tsar, but for overseeing shipbuilding.

The Hermitage - building on the left.

A Lutheran Church where I went last
week to a church service held by the
Calvary Chapel that meets upstairs. It was
really nice and a great way to learn Russian
since there was consecutive translation from
the stage. I'm going back tomorrow and
bringing 6 friends!

This obviously wasn't a sunny day. In fact, it was a
stormy night. White Nights have started, and I took this
at 11.30 pm last week! Already last night it didn't get
dark til after midnight. It's quite strange to look out the
window at 10 pm and think that it's only 5. Plus, I never
have had problems sleeping, but when it doesn't get
dark, it's like the dopamine doesn't kick in.

Пока! Say "pahkah" -- That means, "See you later!"

Counting My Blessings

2011-05-14T17:29:00.000-05:00

I was looking around online tonight, hoping that by some miracle all the credible sources would tell me that Fruit Loops are gluten free. You see, they've come up in conversation several times over the past week, and my walk through the cereal aisle tonight seems to have triggered a craving for the brightly-colored, entirely unnatural, sugary rings.

Unfortunately for me, I will never eat a real Fruit Loop again. There may be some knock-off gluten-free, lactose-free, casein-free, egg-free, lame excuse for a Fruit Loop that tastes like cardboard, but I'm not into allergy-free counterfeits. I lived too long as a glutenarian (a word I made up for people who eat gluten) and the memory of the "real thing" is still too fresh. If I can't have the original, I'd rather not eat it at all.

What I did turn up during my internet search was a forum I've consulted online before at www.celiac.com. Under each comment a user makes, the site automatically posts a little signature of sorts -- a summary of the individual's medical history. I like this because it helps give credibility to the person commenting, and I tend to judge each individual's comments by how similar their diagnoses are to my own. If I find someone who seems to have exactly the same problem I do (a fluctuating moderate-severe gluten intolerance), I pay extra-close attention to their advice.

It was after reading one woman's story about her daughter getting sick on Fruit Loops that I came across this "signature":

SusanLYME diagnosed 11/2010, allergic to wheat, Hashimoto's Thyroiditis, allergic to all grasses, most trees, dustMom to 9 year old dd, lyme, diagnosed 11/2011, highly gluten intolerant, epilepsy w/ generalized seizures, mitocondrial markers, malabsorption, recurring candida - Gluten-free Casein-free since 9/16/08. Diagnosed with P.A.N.D.A.S. 6/20/09, seizure free since going gluten-free!and 10 yr old dd, Lyme diagnosed 11/2011, severe dust allergy, allergic to most trees/grasses/weeds. Positive gluten intolerance testing. Gluten Free since 12/09/08. Diagnosed with P.A.N.D.A.S. 6/20/09

And it hit me, like a 4x4 to the back of the head.... No matter how bad I think I have it, there's always someone who has it much worse. This woman is the perfect example. Not only does she have to manage her own everything-free diet and probably take tons of medications; she has to do the same for her two kids who can't even yet distinguish for themselves all of the foods that pose potential hazards. Even the school administrators can't distinguish hazardous foods from safe ones nor watch her daughter 24-7 to make sure she's not consuming anything glutenous (another word I made up - for foods containing gluten). Hence the 9-year-old's reaction to the Fruit Loops she acquired from the school cafeteria.

So really, who cares if I'll never again eat a Fruit Loop? I walked around a city in bloom today for eight hours -- in the dust, dirt, grass, leaves, and pollen -- and had a great time. No allergies to any of that. How wonderful! I'm thinking now of all the potential allergens in the world and to how many of them I'm not allergic. Woohoo!!

I think the only thing that would really, truly, make me disappointed (allergy-wise), is if I was told that I was allergic to cheese. My absolute favorite place in any store is the cheese-counter, and after oohing, ahhing, and sampling extensively, I buy at least $7 worth of cheese per week. I honestly think that my quality of life would go down if could not enjoy a cheesy snack. In fact, I'd give up pretty much anything over cheese. I'm even dragging my entire family to the Tillamook Cheese Factory for my birthday, where we will tour the world's largest cheese factory (again) and I will eat cheese til my heart's content.

So here I am, mourning the eternal loss of Fruit Loops, but comforted in knowing that I have an entire lifetime of cheese-sampling ahead of me. I am thoroughly counting my many blessings.

--
Does anyone else like cheese? I'd be happy to share some great ways to enjoy cheese, if you're interested.

Quest for King's Gate

2011-05-13T13:41:00.001-05:00

On my last day in Helsinki, Kiri and I took the ferry to the island of Suomenlinna, where we spent the afternoon exploring the old fortress.

Our first stop when the ferry landed was the Visitor Information building, where I picked up a map and immediately started looking through the "special attractions" page. I don't often follow the guides very closely, as my sightseeing strategy falls into the "wander and see what happens" category, but I always browse the recommended достопримечательности (say "dostopreemyechatyelnostee," the Russian word for "tourist attractions") and usually pick one or two of them to set as my destination. You should never wander without a final destination.

We decided that King's Gate would be our terminus, and very quickly our capricious exploring turned into the "Quest for King's Gate."

Waiting for our ferry to depart from the mainland,
we walked around the market at Kauppatori
(in Finnish 'kauppa' means 'market' and 'tori' means 'square')

and....we're off!

It was the perfect sunny day for a ferry ride!

One of our fellow ferry passengers in some
interesting attire.

Chief Navigator Kiri consults the map and evaluates our progress

View of Helsinki from the fortress wall

This was a false alert....I thought I spotted King's Gate
but then realized we were on the complete
opposite side of the island. This must be some other gate.

We found what seemed to be some type of catacomb labyrinth in the
fortress, and from there I found this fairy tale picture window.

We happened upon this beach, and although it was still a little
too chilly to swim....

....we did find some time for sunbathing on a huge rocky cliff.

Straying a bit from the path, we paused to try out the cannons.

An inner view of the fortress wall.

Suomenlinna was originally built during the Swedish era, to protect Helsinki during a war with Russia. Unfortunately for them, Russia won that war and all of Finland came under Russian rule for a time. Suomenlinna was turned into a Russian military stronghold. When the Finns gained their independence in 1917 (the same year the Russian Revolution started), control of Suomenlinna was taken back by the Finns and now 800 people live there year round. The fortress was recently named a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

My Finnish cousin Maya tells me that there's actually a waiting list of people who want to live on the island. Apparently there are some pretty strict entrance requirements, and building codes won't allow anything new to be built, so the population is and will remain stagnant. It was a nice place to spend an afternoon, but I was surprised how much of it was public access. We almost stumbled into a few people's front yards without even knowing it. In the end it was the kiddie pool and tricycles that gave it away.

Finally....Quest Completed!

The infamous King's Gate.

Final destination reached, the victors bask in the glory
of their accomplishment.

The Efficient & Happy Traveler

2011-05-10T00:17:00.000-05:00

In all my years of traveling, I've learned a lot of things the hard way. But I've also honed my ability to pack a bag that will equip me to do everything from working in a professional environment to hiking any mountain I come across. Here are a few tips from my suitcase...

Always pack a towel if you're leaving the United States. Even if you think you'll be staying in nice hotels during your entire trip, you never know when your hotel room could be coincidentally double booked. Or you might show up in the middle of the night and not be able to take a shower because there's no one around to ask for a towel. I recommend this one from REI -- it's a high-absorption microfiber that dries you off quick and dries out completely within an hour. My favorite thing about it is that it's super thin and comes with a little polyester/mesh sack that packs it up the size of a thin paperback book. I bought one large one that I use for both a washcloth and towel. But they're available in many other sizes and weaves as well.

Consolidate products. Unless you have the means to hire a personal butler for the entirety of the trip, you're not going to want to lug around your whole bathroom cupboard. Picking which items to bring depends on the trip and the climate you're traveling to, but try to minimize as much as possible; creams and liquids are very heavy! Invest in one lotion that you can use as hand/body lotion, face moisturizer, and makeup remover. I love Gold Bond's Aloe Vera lotion, but haven't found it sold anywhere outside the States. If I have to restock while traveling, I buy Dove Intensive Nourishment Hand Cream. Both are multi-purpose and work great! All Gold Bond products are gluten free, and most Dove products are as well.