Spain: Agustina

The past two weeks of travels have been pretty busy, so sorry for the delay.

What would you do if you were out in the rain, freezing cold, and had nowhere to go? Complain or dance? Not many people would go with the latter, but I’m sure Agustina would. Agustina is one of the most free-spirited and positive people I have ever met. She can make a lemon taste sweet, a rainy day feel sunny, a car wreck seem like a blessing. And it’s not that she’s oblivious to the reality of situations, rather she’s able to take and deal with the negatives in stride and focus on the positives. It’s a wonderful trait to have.

I met Agustina in Mallorca, an amazingly beautiful island with a single mountain in the middle that allows for a pretty spectacular view of the entire island. You can surf, hike, scuba dive, or just hang out and enjoy the beauty. Anyway, Agustina had a flight 30-minutes before mine, so we decided to go to the airport together. We ended up being a couple of hours early and just hung out and talked. In normal circumstances, after realizing I had so much time, I would think about the other cool things I could have done with these two hours in Mallorca, but that thought didn’t cross my mind once. Instead, Agustina “forced” me to enjoy my time at the airport. We told stories, laughed, and built what I hope to be a lasting friendship. I’ve been to the airport many times in my life, and that was, surely, the best wait I’ve ever had.

I ended up seeing Agustina a few times in Madrid a couple of weeks later – she is from Argentina but is currently studying abroad in Madrid. It was great, because she was able to show me around the city. There was one night in particular that I remember. We actually had no plans for the night; I just knew I was hungry, so we went to grab a bite to eat. Somehow, we ended up eating a handful of good, one-euro sandwiches (minus the duck paste one- what is that!?), having macaroons, visiting Palacio Real, salsa dancing, clubbing, and getting late-night dessert. “Life is what you make of it,” and we made it pretty great that night, even in the freezing cold.

Needless to say, I hope I’m able to make the most of every situation I am put in. Life has so much to appreciate, and many times, I find myself ignoring that. From this day forward, I hope to make that a trait of my past.

“Those who think only sunshine brings happiness have never danced in the rain.”
-Unknown

Spain: Manu

What would you do if you were rich? Many people are quick to think about the nice house they would buy, the collection of cars they would have, or the nice trips they would take. This is usually followed by some sort of statement about donating to the poor. There’s nothing wrong with this; you’re happy and surely, so are the people you help. When Manu was asked this question (well actually, he kind of asked himself), he said “[he] would buy a big house.” I’m sure most of you are thinking, “typical.” But what is interesting is what came after. “And I would use the house to give out jobs. People would come in and tell me what their dream job is, and I’d pay them a salary and tell them to go do it. You want to take pictures for a living? Fine go do it, and I’ll give you 40 euros a day, but you have to be working and taking pictures.” That one statement told me so much about Manu, much of which was made evident by the rest of my interactions with him.

Manu is originally from Italy, but when you consider all the places he has lived (UK, France, Spain, Syria – to name a few) and all the languages he speaks, you’ll learn he’s as much a man of the world as he is an Italian. And as a man of the world, Manu is a man of the people. Literally every person that spoke to Manu walked away saying, “That’s an awesome guy!” Manu makes you befriend him as quickly as he says hello. He has the most inviting spirit I have ever seen; it’s quite amazing, to say the least. But I digress, as I have yet to explain why that statement stood out so much.

First and foremost, that statement told me that he believes every person should be doing what they love, and as long as you can survive, low pay shouldn’t be a deterrent. If there’s anyone that’s living proof, it’s Manu. Manu is definitely doing what he loves. He travels, is a bartender, and works on archaeological digs. What’s crazy about this, specifically the last thing, is that his last excavation at the Vatican was unpaid, and yet, Manu is excited for them to get enough funds to continue the dig, so he can go back. Manu is doing this for his love of history.

While Manu doesn’t believe money is important, it’s apparent that he thinks a person should work for their living. Manu didn’t say he would simply give people money, he said he would give people money that were doing work. As the saying goes, “Give a man a fish, and he will eat for a day. Teach a man to fish, and he will eat for a lifetime.”

Finally and probably most evident is the fact that Manu truly cares about people. Manu took the effort to meet everyone at the hostel. I realize that’s his job, but there was, without a doubt, a genuine interest in getting to know everyone. In fact, Manu even invited Kumar and me to his house for some coffee the following day. And to top it all off, as if he hadn’t done enough already, he ended up giving us our own personal mini-tour of the beautiful city of Sevilla, a place that he has called home for about a year now.

Manu is not sure how much longer he’ll be in Sevilla or what city will call out his name next. However, I’m certain that wherever Manu is, he’ll be doing what he loves with people he cares about.

“Do what makes you happy, be with who makes you smile, laugh as much as you breathe, and love as long as you live.”

-Rachel Ann Nunes

Spain: Vanessa

It took almost two years, thousands of miles across the globe, and a late night out in Barcelona, but I finally found her…the best dancer I have ever seen grace the floor. I saw her when I walked in and just knew right away that she’d be a great person to dance with. Her clear confidence; exuberant smile; and, most importantly, dance shoes were obvious tells. And oh, was I right! She stepped on the dance floor, and I, along with half of Mojito Club, was drawn into a tragically tantalizing realm by her precisely flirtatious style.

I could have literally freeze-framed her at any point and the image would have been perfect. She never touched the dance floor as she glided with a sense of charm and musicality unmatched by Fred Astaire himself (maybe I’m exaggerating). Graceful, charismatic, and entrancingly sexy, she put those around her at a standstill, mesmerizing us all with her intoxicatingly perfect performance. There was no way I was going to let this night end without getting a dance.

After watching her for about four songs and finally mustering up the confidence, I asked her for a dance. I was just as nervous as the first time I ever stepped on the dance floor – in fact, I even heard myself counting in my head (at least, I hope it was in my head). I started the dance slowly – a few basic steps around the dance floor – I remember Duane Wrenn saying that it’s always important to build a connection with your partner and the music. Exhibela dos con una – I showed her off a bit and with that one bit of space, that one 8-count of opportunity, she changed the dynamic of the entire dance. At that moment, I actually realized that I was dancing to one of my favorite songs of my favorite salsa band (“De Miami a la Habana” by Timbalive), and I felt a sudden rush of confidence I had never felt before. Dile que no, dedo por abajo, Juana la italiana complicado, bicardi limon, niagra, azuquita (thanks Alex Burris for most of those moves), and even a shine I learned months before at the San Antonio Salsa Congress. And as suddenly as it had started, the song came to an end. It was by far the funnest social dance I have ever had (although I’ve definitely had more meaningful dances), but it wasn’t over. Like music to my ears I heard “Que rico, uno mas?”

I ended up hanging out with Vanessa and her friends at Mojito Club a couple of days later. We went out to eat afterwards (late night empanadas and pintxos are amazing in Spain), and I learned that, while she has been dancing all her life, she has only been dancing salsa for 3.5 years. Now that I think about it, there wasn’t much spinning or craziness going on when I watched her dance or danced with her. What was most impressive about my dance with her were the simple moments, the moments where dancing just felt good. The moments where it was literally just me, her, and the music. In fact, I don’t remember the moves we did; I just listed a bunch of moves that we could have done. But I do remember the feeling I had when we were dancing. I was so happy, so confident, and so relaxed (eventually); Vanessa’s deep joy for dancing made me feel that way. It’s weird, but I learned and was reminded of a lot about myself from that first dance with Vanessa.

The importance of putting forth your all in everything and enjoying it at the same time…and I don’t mean just work and school but the things you enjoy in life. With dancing, there were so many times I would focus on practicing a move and learning a new trick. I still want to do all that but not in exchange for the awesomeness that dancing can be when you just enjoy it for what it is – two souls, one body moving with the music.

The importance of confidence. I remember walking into the classroom for the first time and one of my students asking me if I was nervous. Luckily, it was my first period, and I quickly made sure not to come off as such in later classes. Just like in the classroom, being confident in what you do makes you that much better. I know I was a better dancer at that moment because of the confidence I felt in what I was doing. I didn’t think I was going to mess up, and I didn’t.

The power of a smile. Vanessa didn’t stop smiling the entire time she was dancing. If you weren’t going to enjoy the dance, she made you enjoy it.

“All that is important is this one moment in movement. Make the moment important, vital, and worth living. Do not let it slip away unnoticed and unused.”
– Martha Graham

Morocco: Hussain

“350” – “No, 360 is the lowest.” Hussain and I were arguing over 10 Dirham, which is equivalent to $1.25 (actually, 62.5 cents, because Nikhil and I were splitting the cost). Sounds ridiculous, but hey, if you’re traveling for a year, every dollar counts. I finally gave in to the 360, because otherwise I’d be hiking Mt. Toubkal, the tallest mountain in North Africa, without hiking boots, gloves, or poles – pretty much a death wish. Plus, for one of very few times in Morocco, I wasn’t able to get someone to drop a single Dirham from the price, even after using every negotiation tactic I knew. I was in Imlil now, and maybe the people here were different than the Marrakchees (natives of Marrakech)? Maybe the people here actually told you the true price from the beginning and weren’t trying to cheat you all the time? Of course, I learned that wasn’t exactly true, since we were able to turn a 2400 Dirham guide to the top of Toubkal into a 1200 Dirham guide that also included accommodations, two lunches, breakfast, dinner, and a mule to carry our belongings during the hike. But Hussain was different – I had a feeling, and I was right.

After our hike, I came back to Hussain to return the hiking gear. Our original hotel was full, so I asked Hussain if he had any recommendations. Not only did he recommend a hotel for us, but he closed his store, so he could walk me there and negotiate a price similar to what we were paying at our original hotel, a price that was half of what the room was supposed to be. Hussain really just wanted to help out. Hussain was just being Hussain.

Later that evening, I went looking for a cheap bite to eat. I was checking out the restaurants in the village when Hussain popped up and asked me what I was looking for. I told him I wanted a good meal for as cheap as possible. Hussain took me to his friend’s restaurant and got me a Berber omelette and two loaves of bread for 20 Dirham ($2.50). That meal wasn’t even on the menu, but Hussain just wanted to help out. Hussain was just being Hussain.

Hussain works in Imlil but is from a small town about 3 km away. He was born and raised in the village and is now making his living through his hotel and hiking shop. He lives a simple life and loves meeting and interacting with the tourists that come into town. In fact, he learned English, Spanish, and authentic Arabic for that reason. He loves his town and as he said, does his best to “practice being a true Muslim.” Hussain didn’t want anything from me other than for me to enjoy my visit to Imlil. He introduced me to his friends, and although, I only had the chance to speak with all of them for about ten minutes (while waiting for our shared taxi), I saw the same kind spirit in all of them. They told me jokes, gave me Islamic books, and even asked me if I wanted a small gift from their shop. They were so hospitable, and while this sounds a bit silly, it was sad to leave such a friendly place, especially knowing I was going back to Marrakech (no offense, Marrakech is wonderful in a different way).

I thought about a lot because of my visit to Imlil:
1) I came into Imlil with such a negative mindset. I was quick to assume that Hussain and everyone else was trying to hustle me. I’ll never know what the real price of the hiking gear or that Berber omelette was, but after talking to Hussain, I’d like to think that he was completely honest. I’ve practiced the diversity competencies of TFA for the past two years (and longer without knowing), but I seemed to walk into Imlil without any knowledge of them. People were trying to take advantage of me for weeks (including Gambia), and it was hard not to ignore that. In hindsight, I know that was wrong. It’s important to not lose faith in humanity just because of a few people trying to make a living the only way they know how – “getting by is not a sin,” right? That’s up for argument, I guess. Anyway, Hussain was definitely a wake up call to all of this.
2) Would Hussain and his friends have been so hospitable if I were not Muslim? Imlil, according to Hussain, is 100% Muslim, and when people found out I was Muslim (and spoke Arabic), you could sense a level of excitement that wasn’t there before. They became so much more friendly and willing to converse. They invited me to sit down with them, and even in Marrakech, people would just continue to walk down the street with me just to have a conversation and then return back to what they were doing. I don’t know how they would’ve acted if I were a different religion, but Hussain spoke of being a true Muslim. Besides the Five Pillars, what is being a true Muslim? It’s definitely not being accepting only of Muslims, and it surely isn’t cheating people out of their money. Hussain seemed to realize that; sadly, I can’t speak for the rest of Imlil though. It’s such a shame considering the deep faith in Islam that was evident throughout the town. You know, the deep faith in a religion that preaches sincerity, kindness, respect, truth, and all the other proper morals of society.
3) Hussain showed me how big of an impact a small gesture can make. Because of Hussain, I had a wonderful night’s sleep and dinner, and it only took 20 minutes of his time. I wonder how many times in my life I missed the opportunity to make someone’s day just by asking “How can I help you?” I don’t know, but I’ll do my best to make sure I don’t do it again. Thank you, Hussain.
4) Hussain was in Imlil to make a living, but he didn’t forget to have fun in the meantime. Hussain was always talking to people, laughing, lending a hand, enjoying his time (so it seemed). The past three years of my life have been driven by work. While I wouldn’t change them, especially the last two, because my “work” was my kids, I have learned that it’s ok to take a break – read a book on Sunday, take a day to catch up with friends, sit down when you eat (walking and eating in Morocco is actually rude), have a nice conversation over tea, smile often, lend a helping hand…simply, enjoy life.

I asked Hussain if he was happy living in such a small place with so little, and he said he wouldn’t change a thing – well, except for the cold winters, but luckily, he has Marrakech to escape to. Hussain is happy living a simple (and what we may consider an unconventional) life. A life in which he takes the time to enjoy every moment and help those around him do the same.

“Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.”
-Voltaire

Morocco: James

Imagine traveling the world for fourteen years. Fall asleep under the stars in the Sahara; argue your way through the borders of Lebanon; get married in Brazil… this is James’ life. James is 67 years old and has been traveling on and off for the past fourteen years. He alternates between traveling around the world for six months and staying at home in Arizona for six months. Sounds pretty great, doesn’t it?

Before he started this life of adventure, James designed computer chips. He saved up money over the years and made a number of lucrative investments, through which he is now able to lead such a free life. Speaking of free, James is a single man now, recently ending his relationship with his Brazilian wife. Before that he was married to a woman for seventeen years. Two of these seventeen years were spent sailing around the world. James seemed happiest when he spoke about these two years, describing his relationship as “perfect.” Sadly though, the relationship had to end, when his wife passed away of cancer.

Years later, James speaks about how welcoming she was, how they never argued, and how they lived together for two years on a 40-foot boat. I quickly sensed that James never really got over her death, especially after he spoke of how smart it was to “rent a girl,” not have any kids, and travel solo. I was only around James for a little while, but I sensed that he wanted to avoid getting close to anyone, because he was afraid of losing them.

Losing a loved one is probably the hardest thing anyone can go through. When my father passed, I remember my mother falling to the floor, distraught. I remember her crying herself to sleep and not eating for days. I remember her praying for him to come back and questioning why he wasn’t there. I remember her refusing to clear out his clothes from the closet and replaying his last voicemail over and over again. I remember her being in the worst state I had ever seen. But she came out of it stronger than ever before.

There are two differences between James and my mom (probably a lot more than two, but you know what I mean). 1) James probably didn’t display his hurt like my mom did, and 2) my mom found a way to move on. My mom and James both fell into a stage where they thought they would never love again and that loving someone wasn’t worth it. My mother however realized that she felt this way not because she lost her husband but because she was lucky enough to love someone that much.

Love is beautiful, and because of that, it hurts tremendously when we lose someone. Time has a way of diminishing the pain, but the void will always be there. It’s important to realize that you were blessed to have that person in your life and that s/he would want you to move on. Open up your heart to others, because you and they deserve it. Life is too short not to love. And love is too beautiful not to live it.

NOTE: I jumped to many conclusions about James. He might be completely fine, but I do know there are many people in James’ shoes. So regardless, James or not, don’t stop loving 🙂

“I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.”
-Alfred Lord Tennyson

Gambia: Mrs. Ceesay

15 0 1 3 47 – along with tonight’s Texas Pick 5 winning numbers, these numbers represent the saddest statistics I have ever witnessed. In 15 minutes of observing a class, I saw 0 behavior management strategies used, 1 fight, 3 subjects being “taught,” and 47 lives being wasted. I can honestly say that this was the worst classroom I have ever walked into. I can’t put the blame on the students – they have no one guiding them. I can’t put the blame on the teacher – I have no idea what training she has had. I can’t put the blame on the administration – I have no idea what support and resources they have. And I can’t put the blame on the system – I don’t know anything about it. I can say (removing the students from this list) that every one in the community as a whole should be blamed. Parents, teachers, principals, politicians, and more all have a role to play, and right now, in this specific school, it seems (on surface level) as if nothing is getting done. The good news (or bad, depending on how you look at it) is that only a couple miles down the road is Mrs. Ceesay’s school.

I walked into Mrs. Ceesay’s school only to walk out completely stunned by how amazingly structured it was. It’s a small elementary school, serving almost 100 students, all of which are being set up for success. Classes had between 20-25 students and 3 teachers each. Every student in the class was on task and working on a differentiated assignment. I saw kindergarteners finish their work, raise their hand to get their answers checked, clean up their table, place the activity in the corner of the room (after pushing their chair in), grab their writing notebook, sharpen their pencil, walk back to their seat, and begin writing all without talking and their shirts tucked in. And this was typical of every student in every classroom that I walked into. The classes and school literally ran like clockwork. And if you’re questioning rigor, I saw first graders reading with ease, adding two-digit numbers, and writing full stories. It was an amazing sight.

Luckily, we, Nikhil and I, had the opportunity to sit with Mrs. Ceesay a few times during our stay in the Gambia. Each and every time, she left me with somethig to think about. Mrs. Ceesay taught for many years and in many different environments before opening up her school. In fact, she taught in a Montessori school, which her school is modeled after, and in a low-income neighborhood in the US as well as in schools in the Gambia (to name a few places). Mrs. Ceesay is one of the most inspiring and hardest working people I have met. In each classroom, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of differentiated activities for students to follow – Mrs. Ceesay made all of them. There are at least 12 teachers in the school – Mrs. Ceesay trains them all. There are 96 students in the school – Mrs. Ceesay helps teach them all. She does all of this while running one of the best schools in the Gambia. What’s most admirable about Mrs. Ceesay is her positivity and belief that this system can change.

The world needs more educators like Mrs. Ceesay. Educators that believe in the power of a teacher and the potential of a student or as Mrs. Ceesay so eloquently put it, educators that believe that they’ve “never seen a student that can’t learn just teachers that don’t dig deep enough.”

Let’s start digging…

“I have never seen a student that can’t learn just teachers that don’t dig deep enough.”
-Mrs. Ceesay

Gambia: Ba Jammeh

“I wonder if anyone can see my butt,” I thought to myself as I stood naked showering with a bucket

in Ba Jammeh’s dad’s backyard. Ba Jammeh, a close friend of my Uncle Brahim, offered to take us up-country to spend some time in his family’s village

and another night at Baboon Island, where we were able to see chimpanzees,

* hippos, baboons, and many other animals.

Ba Jammeh has lived his entire life in Gambia’s capital city, Banjul. His parents, Mandinkas from the village Kekuta Kunda

moved to Banjul before Ba was born. Ba was raised to be a butcher just like his father. He wasn’t happy with the living he was making, so in the late 80s he moved to Europe, where he decided to make a living selling drugs. Ba lived this dangerous life for many years, but in 1992, after seeing many of his friends ruin their lives because of a similar lifestyle, Ba decided to move back to the Gambia and return to work as a butcher. That same year his father died, and he was introduced to what he found to be his true passion, fishing. Ba Jammeh became quite the fisherman.

What’s most interesting about Ba Jammeh is that his whole life was spent in Banjul and other than brief visits, he didn’t spend time in Kekuta Kunda. Yet still, Ba Jammeh is driven to make his country, and specifically “his” village a better place to live. First on his agenda is to make the village solar powered, because as of right now, there is no electricity at all. As well as this, Ba Jammeh is in the middle of opening up a conservation park. He hopes that he’ll be able to use the money he earns to make even more improvements in his village and his country. I asked Ba Jammeh why it was so important for him to help his village, and almost instantly, he said, “charity begins at home.” He spoke of how important it was for him to give back to the community that gave him life, the community that so kindly welcomes him (and this time, us) to their compound, the community that takes all its difficulties in stride.

So many times in life we are quick to forget the people around us and where we have come from. We are consumed by work, partying, money, and the material things in life. It’s important to remember where we come from and move in a direction where we are driven to make the world around us a better place. As a teacher, it was my goal for my students to walk out of my classroom not just better mathematicians but as contributing members of society. I hope that this trip will open up my eyes to something that will allow me to be just that.

“Charity begins at home but should not end there”
-Thomas Fuller

*photo courtesy of Nikhil Kumar

Gambia: Walid

Many Gambians say that if you were to light Walid’s (pronounced wa-lead) money on fire, the flames would die out at least twenty years later. In fact, it was one of Walid’s many drivers, Jaju,

that met me (and Nikhil, earlier in the day) at the airport in Dakar, Senegal.

And after 20 hours of traveling a 100 mile direct-distance or should I say 20 hours of getting my bags carried off by strangers; staying in a hotel (full of bugs and with no electricity) to avoid a storm

; seeing a town react to the city’s market catching fire; taking a ferry that moved at what felt like 1 mph

; and much more craziness (for more detail, check out Nikhil’s blog: onwardsandbeyond.tumblr.com), I arrived at Walid’s house in the Gambia

for an awesome plate of benachin,

* one of Gambia’s most famous dishes. Walid, if you haven’t guessed, is my uncle, and life has not always been this kind to him.

Born in Nigeria and raised in The Gambia, Walid took it upon himself when his father passed away to create an empire in the Gambia. Seeing his mother struggle to raise her five kids, he dropped out of high school and worked at a local bakery to save enough money to purchase a taxi. He continued to save until he had a fleet of sixteen taxis, something he admits would not have happened without his great wife by his side, and I can see why. Since we’ve been here, his wife (and everyone else, really) has been an absolute pleasure to be around. They have treated us with so much generosity, from providing us our own apartment to live in (thank you Aunty Siham and Uncle Brahim) to feasts for dinner (thank you everyone)

and even living expenses (again, thank you everyone).

Much of this visit would not be possible were it not for Walid’s business mindset. What he realized while running his taxi business was that many of the cars he was purchasing needed maintenance, and every time he went to fix a car, he felt as though he was getting cheated by the spare parts companies. Walid saw an opportunity to make money and decided to ship spare parts from other parts of the world and not only use them for his cars but sell them in The Gambia. This buy-and-sell business turned into a number of spare parts locations across the city, and finally he was back where he began, at the bakery. Except now, the hired became the hirer. Walid bought bakeries around the country, each one of which profited about $10,000 a month. He still runs these businesses, but you can tell all of this has taken a toll on him. He has literally built an empire for his kids, and he’s ready to pass it on. He’s ready for his kids to take over so he can travel and relax with his wife. While he won’t admit it, Walid has lived much of his life for those around him. The question is, when will his turn come, because he surely deserves it?

I hope to be able to provide for my loved ones the way that Walid has. I just wonder how can I do this while “living my life” and making the world around me a better place? In fact, I struggle to think of many people that have had the opportunity to do so. Or maybe, I’m just missing something? I mean, as I’ve said, Walid has definitely provided for his loved ones, and there is no doubt that he has made his community a better place and helped the less fortunate. And maybe “living his life” is sitting down with his brothers and sisters and watching his seven kids, nieces, and nephews wrestle in front of him as he holds his wife in his arms. That sounds pretty sweet to me 🙂

“The invariable mark of wisdom is to see the miraculous in the common.”
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

*photo courtesy of Nikhil Kumar

Dubai: Elena

“How about I give you a penis massage?” Three minutes into our conversation, and that’s what Elena (pronounced ee-lean-uh) asked me. I wasn’t sure how to respond; I’d never met a girl so forward. Maybe it was all the alcohol talking or maybe it was the romantic view of Burj al-Arab

getting to her as we sat alongside a bar on Palm Jumeirah, Dubai’s man-made islands and what many have dubbed to be the “Eighth Wonder of the World.”

I asked her to repeat herself, just to make sure I heard right – I had, but this time she mentioned a small fee. Elena was a prostitute from Russia visiting Dubai for three months, just the amount of time her visa would allow. I had heard about these ladies earlier on my trip but didn’t really believe it. I quickly let her know I wasn’t interested, but I wanted to learn more about her. I was saddened by the fact that a beautiful, seemingly intelligent 25-year-old was spending her life like this, but I quickly found out that this was something she had recently picked up.

Elena had a divorce when she was 22 and needed a way to survive. Unable to find work, she decided to use what she thought was her best asset, her looks. For only about $8000 in expenses, Elena could spend 3-months in one of the most beautiful and diverse cities in the world (one that offers camel rides on one side of the town and indoor-skiing on the other),

make an average of $500 a night, and do what she enjoys…have sex. Little did Elena know how quickly she would regret her decision. She never really said it, but I could I see it in her eyes and hear it in her tone – she wanted something more from someone. The only time she seemed excited during our conversation was when she told me about a guy who simply paid her to spend the night talking to and drinking with him. They still communicate via email, and Elena hopes to see him again one day.

I hope Elena finds what she’s looking for. She seems like a wonderful person, simply following the wrong path. I’ve thought about her many times since that night. In fact, as I stood atop Burj Khalifa,

the world’s tallest building, mesmerized by the seemingly computerized view,

I thought about the thousands of women in Dubai in the same shoes as Elena. I thought of the millions of women across the world leading such an unconventional life, and I can only hope that they’ll see it just isn’t worth it. Maybe one day, we can find a way to empower these women – find a way to make them feel like they do have another choice.

“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” – Alice Walker.

Hello world

…literally. Let me start by saying that if you eat your pizza with a knife and fork, safely remove your USB drive, and/or make two stops at a stop sign, this blog might be a little hard to handle. Or maybe it’s just what you need to push you a little? I don’t know, but if there’s one thing I promise to deliver, it’s a bit of unconventional truth. You’ll learn about the unique lives of people around the world, experience the excitement and danger of traveling the world, and see the world from a whole new lens (my iPhone’s).

Right now (when I wrote this and not really right now), I’m on a 15 hour flight to Dubai. I’d talk about the amazingness that is an Emirates flight, the sadness that is leaving your loved ones, or the craziness that is packing one suitcase for an entire year, but I’ll leave this blog for the exciting stuff. Can’t wait to see what Dubai has in store.