Day 140 of the project,
Koh Lanta, Thailand
"More on your right foot. No, your other right. Now push and REACH for it! Good! Now move your left hand into the hole."
"What hole? There is no....oh wait, there it is."
After two days of sweat, swearing, scrapes and bruises, I was finally getting the hang of it. No pun intended.
One of the goals for the 30th Year Project was to get outside of my comfort zone. Sand boarding and high-altitude hiking aside, I had not really challenged myself physically. With only seven weeks to go, I decided the rock climbing mecca of Railay would be the perfect place to test my limits.
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
November 22, 2014
November 20, 2014
Ghosts of the past
Day 138 of the project,
Krabi, Thailand
When someone brings up Cambodia, the first image that comes to mind is of the Angkor ruins. And rightfully so, as the sites in Angkor National Park are some of the most stunning in the ancient world. Angkor Wat is the most famous, but each site is distinct. My personal favorite was Banteay Srey. Translated to the Citadel of Women, the intricate carvings and pinkish-brown sandstone are absolutely sublime in the late afternoon sunlight.
However, Cambodia's more recent history is darker; its second claim to fame is genocide. Pol Pot came to power in 1975 with the aim of creating a perfect agrarian society. The Khmer Rouge drove everyone into extreme farming labor. Any intellectual--defined as anything from being a professional to wearing glasses--or opponent was arrested, tortured and killed. His regime was eventually pushed out in 1979 after war with the newly established Socialist Republic of Vietnam. It is worth mentioning the US government (along with the UN) recognized and supported the Khmer Rouge because of its opposition to the Vietnamese.
This darkness is clear in present-day Cambodia. There are over 300 sites of torture or mass graves in the country. In Phnom Penh, the most famous is known as the killing fields. No detail is left out in the audio guide. At the end, a memorial with glass walls reveals the bones of 8,000 people executed on site. The collection grows each year after the annual floods unearth new fragments. The experience is graphic, nauseating, enraging and heart-breaking. It must be seen and heard, though comprehension is virtually impossible.
Krabi, Thailand
When someone brings up Cambodia, the first image that comes to mind is of the Angkor ruins. And rightfully so, as the sites in Angkor National Park are some of the most stunning in the ancient world. Angkor Wat is the most famous, but each site is distinct. My personal favorite was Banteay Srey. Translated to the Citadel of Women, the intricate carvings and pinkish-brown sandstone are absolutely sublime in the late afternoon sunlight.
However, Cambodia's more recent history is darker; its second claim to fame is genocide. Pol Pot came to power in 1975 with the aim of creating a perfect agrarian society. The Khmer Rouge drove everyone into extreme farming labor. Any intellectual--defined as anything from being a professional to wearing glasses--or opponent was arrested, tortured and killed. His regime was eventually pushed out in 1979 after war with the newly established Socialist Republic of Vietnam. It is worth mentioning the US government (along with the UN) recognized and supported the Khmer Rouge because of its opposition to the Vietnamese.
This darkness is clear in present-day Cambodia. There are over 300 sites of torture or mass graves in the country. In Phnom Penh, the most famous is known as the killing fields. No detail is left out in the audio guide. At the end, a memorial with glass walls reveals the bones of 8,000 people executed on site. The collection grows each year after the annual floods unearth new fragments. The experience is graphic, nauseating, enraging and heart-breaking. It must be seen and heard, though comprehension is virtually impossible.
September 23, 2014
Native tongue
Day 78 of the project,
on the ferry to Dubrovnik, Croatia
An American, an Englishman and an Australian sit in a hostel bar in Vienna, steins of beer in hand. Conversation ranges from travel to music to politics. Especially politics. There is nothing more entertaining than testing an American on his or her knowledge of world affairs. Gentle ribbing aside, their native language allowed the three drinkers to easily exchange and debate ideas well into the early morning hours.
Language is also a reflection of a person's worldview. As with most native English speakers, I enjoy orderly queues, on-time departures, formal education and relative privilege within the globalized 21st century world. Yet my American perspective is often as clear as my accent. It is as simple as wearing pants (not trousers), taking the elevator (not the lift), attending college (not uni or university) and having friends (not mates). It is as complex as not having a current attachment to monarchy or officially sharing a currency with other independent nations.
on the ferry to Dubrovnik, Croatia
An American, an Englishman and an Australian sit in a hostel bar in Vienna, steins of beer in hand. Conversation ranges from travel to music to politics. Especially politics. There is nothing more entertaining than testing an American on his or her knowledge of world affairs. Gentle ribbing aside, their native language allowed the three drinkers to easily exchange and debate ideas well into the early morning hours.
Language is also a reflection of a person's worldview. As with most native English speakers, I enjoy orderly queues, on-time departures, formal education and relative privilege within the globalized 21st century world. Yet my American perspective is often as clear as my accent. It is as simple as wearing pants (not trousers), taking the elevator (not the lift), attending college (not uni or university) and having friends (not mates). It is as complex as not having a current attachment to monarchy or officially sharing a currency with other independent nations.
August 18, 2014
#feminismo
Dia 42 del proyecto,
Madrid, Espana
I noticed the first stencil yesterday. Given the visual depiction of a woman and a priest along with the verbal content, the church wall placement couldn't be more appropriate. This morning, I passed others plastered to the side of a park wall. A guerrilla conversation about a woman's right to choose in Spain.
Madrid, Espana
I noticed the first stencil yesterday. Given the visual depiction of a woman and a priest along with the verbal content, the church wall placement couldn't be more appropriate. This morning, I passed others plastered to the side of a park wall. A guerrilla conversation about a woman's right to choose in Spain.
August 8, 2014
Volver
Dia 33 del proyecto,
San Sebastián (Donostia), Espana
A lot happens in a decade. Especially when ten years constitutes a third of your life. Yet stepping off the plane at Bajaras felt like stepping into a time warp. Some things have changed. Madrid has given its international terminal a much needed facelift and Aerolineas Iberia was more responsible with my luggage. Yet for a moment I was instantly 20 years old again, transported to a time when my vision of the world was reshaped.
For the 30th year project, I was determined to focus on new places. Why would one go back to old ones when there are constantly new destinations to be explored? So I followed the rule. Except when my heart wouldn't let me skip Spain.
The vast majority of American university students do not study abroad. For some, it is a financial limitation; for others, it is simply a lack of interest or does not fit into their degree program. I certainly had the financial limitations, but was unwilling to let money stop me. So off I went with student loans, a gigantic suitcase, limited Spanish capabilities and no experience traveling solo outside the States.
San Sebastián (Donostia), Espana
A lot happens in a decade. Especially when ten years constitutes a third of your life. Yet stepping off the plane at Bajaras felt like stepping into a time warp. Some things have changed. Madrid has given its international terminal a much needed facelift and Aerolineas Iberia was more responsible with my luggage. Yet for a moment I was instantly 20 years old again, transported to a time when my vision of the world was reshaped.
For the 30th year project, I was determined to focus on new places. Why would one go back to old ones when there are constantly new destinations to be explored? So I followed the rule. Except when my heart wouldn't let me skip Spain.
The vast majority of American university students do not study abroad. For some, it is a financial limitation; for others, it is simply a lack of interest or does not fit into their degree program. I certainly had the financial limitations, but was unwilling to let money stop me. So off I went with student loans, a gigantic suitcase, limited Spanish capabilities and no experience traveling solo outside the States.
July 28, 2014
South American desert dreams
Dia 21 del proyecto,
Entre San Pedro de Atacama y Valparaiso, Chile
Many people consider deserts to be barren and boring. Lifeless with strange plants and few visible animals. It is easy to dismiss, especially in northern Chile, the landscape as such. But to do so would be to miss some of the most spectacular terrain on this planet.
The Atacama desert is enormous--it spans about a third of northern Chile, a decent chunk of northwestern Argentina, most of Bolivia and all of southern Peru. It is the driest desert on earth, with many places never recording rainfall in the history of (western) civilization. The ground ranges from the peaks of the Andes to the altiplano, or high plane, to enormous sand dunes. Vegetation can be standard cactus to clumps of indigenous grasses designed to withstand the incredibly dry conditions.
In spite of the dryness, the Atacama is a geologist's dream. Salt is prevalent in nearly every area; crystals form in various patterns from traditional salt pans to fields that look like the top of an apple crumble. Lithium, copper and nitrates are also found in huge quantities and are mined by all four countries. Volcanoes dot the mountain-scape, with the active ones occasionally sending up a puff of gas as a reminder of their presence.
Entre San Pedro de Atacama y Valparaiso, Chile
Many people consider deserts to be barren and boring. Lifeless with strange plants and few visible animals. It is easy to dismiss, especially in northern Chile, the landscape as such. But to do so would be to miss some of the most spectacular terrain on this planet.
The Atacama desert is enormous--it spans about a third of northern Chile, a decent chunk of northwestern Argentina, most of Bolivia and all of southern Peru. It is the driest desert on earth, with many places never recording rainfall in the history of (western) civilization. The ground ranges from the peaks of the Andes to the altiplano, or high plane, to enormous sand dunes. Vegetation can be standard cactus to clumps of indigenous grasses designed to withstand the incredibly dry conditions.
In spite of the dryness, the Atacama is a geologist's dream. Salt is prevalent in nearly every area; crystals form in various patterns from traditional salt pans to fields that look like the top of an apple crumble. Lithium, copper and nitrates are also found in huge quantities and are mined by all four countries. Volcanoes dot the mountain-scape, with the active ones occasionally sending up a puff of gas as a reminder of their presence.
July 13, 2014
Dos Limas
Day 7 of the project,
On the road to Cuzco
Like so many cities around the world, Lima is a city divided between the have's and have not's. I spent two days wandering around the wealthy suburbs that line the coast. Beautiful and modern buildings, immaculate parks (complete with tennis courts and football pitches), casinos and shopping malls. Not to mention the amazing food and diverse array of options. It was easy to forget about the reality of most Limenos.
It is in plain view now. The bus is flying along the highway, passing the barrios that teem with shoddy half-constructed apartments, no hint of grass (just garbage and dirt), dirty markets and questionable restaurants. The food might taste good, but it would most certainly upset my delicate first-world stomach.
The stark contrast surfaces many thoughts and feelings. What is poverty? I certainly know how academics and economists define it. But there is a distinction between being poor and suffering. Obviously the failure to meet basic needs is considered suffering. And the seven-figure incomes of the technorati of Silicon Valley are at the other extreme. Beyond that is a sea of gray area. In the spectrum of privilege, where does one go from being impoverished to poor to middle class to rich to extremely rich? And where are people the happiest?
On the road to Cuzco
Like so many cities around the world, Lima is a city divided between the have's and have not's. I spent two days wandering around the wealthy suburbs that line the coast. Beautiful and modern buildings, immaculate parks (complete with tennis courts and football pitches), casinos and shopping malls. Not to mention the amazing food and diverse array of options. It was easy to forget about the reality of most Limenos.
It is in plain view now. The bus is flying along the highway, passing the barrios that teem with shoddy half-constructed apartments, no hint of grass (just garbage and dirt), dirty markets and questionable restaurants. The food might taste good, but it would most certainly upset my delicate first-world stomach.
The stark contrast surfaces many thoughts and feelings. What is poverty? I certainly know how academics and economists define it. But there is a distinction between being poor and suffering. Obviously the failure to meet basic needs is considered suffering. And the seven-figure incomes of the technorati of Silicon Valley are at the other extreme. Beyond that is a sea of gray area. In the spectrum of privilege, where does one go from being impoverished to poor to middle class to rich to extremely rich? And where are people the happiest?
July 10, 2014
Lost and found
Day 4 of the project
Lima, Peru
One of my unspoken fears was that I had lost my Spanish. The lack of formal study and any semblance of verbal practice over the last few years left me with a scary number of blanks and "yo no se"s when walking through San Francisco's Mission district. Chile and Peru are full of English speakers, but South America and Spain are the only places where I can hope to converse in the local language. And hopefully reinvigorate my Americanized brain.
Researchers have compared the brain to a network of roads. The ones that get the heaviest use are like freeways and information flows quickly. The least used are back roads must be navigated slowly and with care. The metaphor makes sense, though I was terrified that my Spanish was going to be like an Arkansas dirt road: pot-hole-riddled and embarrassingly red.
Lima, Peru
One of my unspoken fears was that I had lost my Spanish. The lack of formal study and any semblance of verbal practice over the last few years left me with a scary number of blanks and "yo no se"s when walking through San Francisco's Mission district. Chile and Peru are full of English speakers, but South America and Spain are the only places where I can hope to converse in the local language. And hopefully reinvigorate my Americanized brain.
Researchers have compared the brain to a network of roads. The ones that get the heaviest use are like freeways and information flows quickly. The least used are back roads must be navigated slowly and with care. The metaphor makes sense, though I was terrified that my Spanish was going to be like an Arkansas dirt road: pot-hole-riddled and embarrassingly red.
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