Monday, October 4, 2010

Found: The story of me finding an awesome hair product

Alas, I have searched the earth, far and wide, for hair products that deserve praise. I have finally found one, and it's only $11. Garnier should praise me for this shameless promo, but I'm not kidding, it works. I am wearing my hair down today, thanks to yesterday's infusion. If anyone knows me, you know that never happens. Unless I straighten it. Which never happens. Anyway it's Garnier Sleek and Shine Blow Dry Perfector. So awesome if you have at all frizzy hair. It even made me buy a blow dryer. I haven't ever owned a blow dryer. Times are changing my friends, times are changing.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Katy Perry & Sesame Street. Really?

Why would someone put Katy Perry on Sesame Street to begin with? I mean, I like her, but she's not exactly a performer for children...

Sesame Street Pulls Katy Perry Video

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

On being filfthy rich

I just wrote this for a job application, so I decided perhaps I should share it with someone else too. Enjoy!

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I remember the first time it actually hit me - how filthy rich I was. I was taking a class on world development problems in graduate school, and the professor was categorizing humanity into three economic classes: under consumers, moderate consumers and over consumers. At the time, I subsisted on $1200 a month, generated from serving as a teaching assistant for the school. I quickly balked with pride. I could barely afford to live, I thought, I am definitely not an over consumer, that’s for sure. Besides half of the world’s population are moderate consumers, only 20 percent are classified as over consumers -- like I really fall into the elite percent.

My self-righteous pride however, was quickly humbled. My professor showed us a chart. “Moderate consumers,” he said, “have a per capita income of $700 - $7500 USD a year. Over consumers make more than $7500, have a diet of meat, packaged foods, soft drinks and consume too many calories. They drive private cars, dress in fashion-conscious clothing, and live in spacious, acclimatized shelters.” Wow. Way to describe me in a nutshell. I looked down at the H&M sweater I was wearing, and the Vitamin Water in my hand. Sure, I got it on sale for $14, and the Vitamin Water was $2 for two at the convenience store, but still...I was completely, unapologetically, an over consumer. I couldn’t believe I had even thought otherwise. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t witnessed true poverty before. I had been to Calcutta and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Still, until I heard my professor’s description, it never really struck me as so, well, widespread.

As my professor continued to discuss global poverty, the realities of the world became painfully clearer, but it also became clearer why my view of poverty was so drastically limited. “Nearly 24,000 children a day die from poverty-related causes,” lectured my prof. “And the saddest thing is, we never hear about them, because they die in the poorest communities in the world, hidden from the world’s gaze.” Apparently, the poorest of the poor weren’t living in Minneapolis, Minn., or, in any area inhabited by or in close proximity to the world’s richest.

While statistics like this can be discouraging, I find there is a little bit of hope in facts like these. Call it naivety, but I think, if the over consumers of the world really knew about the poverty sharing this globe with them, they would reach out to help. I mean, how many small towns put on huge benefits to help a local cancer victim stricken with medical bills in addition to his disease? From what I’ve seen in my life, a lot.

So that’s why I believe in the power of communication to relieve global poverty. We all have the ability to help out a bit, we just have to spread the word, and sacrifice a few finances ourselves. As I mentioned before, perhaps this is an idealistic view of the overwhelming problem at hand. But what do we have to lose? In the words of famed activist Margaret Meade, “Never doubt that a small, thoughtful group of people can change the world. Indeed, they are the only ones who have ever have.”

Friday, June 25, 2010

Waiting

I am at a airport coffeeshop in Denver, CO. I'm here, staring outside at the airport's fake rendition of the Rockies (if you've been here, you know what I'm talking about), trying to kill three hours. I am headed to Orange County this weekend for a friend's wedding - and because I have no money, I could not afford a non-stop flight. Alas.

I have never been to LA, the city I am flying into. Tonight, thanks to the dealings of my friend Dan Edelstein, I am staying in the Santa Monica Motel. I know, it just sounds like the setting for a horror movie. The only reviews I read about it said, "I can stand cheap, budget hotels, but this place is just gross..." Ha. Should be an adventure.

So yeah. I am waiting. Waiting for my flight, waiting for one of the employers I've contacted to call me back. A lot of our lives our spent waiting. At least someone invented the Internet. It sure makes waiting a lot easier.

(Oh, and a special shout out to the Denver airport for having free wifi. Way to go.)

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Leaving everything, and graduating.

I am a selfish human being. And the other day, I had an experience that slapped my selfishness hard, revealing its raw stupidity.

I have a friend who was a refugee from Burma, she arrived in the U.S. two years ago, and we've been hanging out since. This past week, she graduated from high school. She asked me to come to her graduation, at the LEAP school in St. Paul. Of course I said I would go, but deep down inside, I did not want to attend a graduation ceremony. I was thinking of ways I could skip. How rude.

But alas, I do have some heart, so I went. And as soon as I got there, I realized that this experience was a gift. There they were, 56, students who came over to the U.S., barely knowing any English at all, graduating from high school. Their friends and families were there, so excited and proud. They had come to this new land with nothing, and now, one of their own was graduating from high school, in America. I mean, do you know what these kids had to go through to get a degree? They had to adjust to a new culture, a new language, override the temptations that come from rough neighborhoods, to graduate. I was honored to be in that gym at that moment. It made me realize how frustrated God is with us most of the time. I mean, he tries to give us good things, but we brush them off before we taste them, because shallow, selfish desires like spending time on ourselves seem more appealing.

The scene was a funny one, at LEAP school graduation. It was very typical of what I've experienced from my short times in the developing world. It was definitely not like a suburban high school graduation. For one, people talked throughout the ceremony, there was a constant conversational buzz. I would sit there and scream in my head, "listen to the speaker!" But alas, no one heard my inner thoughts. Additionally, most people came late, with balloons. What's time? Just a number. But even if they were whispering and answering phones throughout the ceremony, when their student walked across the stage they erupted in cheers louder than any you would have heard in Hastings.

Perhaps, its because, this student accomplished a greater achievement than most in Hastings. I mean, I had to go through a couple break-ups in high school (not to minimize those! man, those were rough), not submerge myself into a different culture a million miles from home.

After the ceremony, I went to see my friend. She was so excited and looked great in the cap and gown. This was the best graduation I have ever been to. Accomplishments mean more, the more there is to overcome.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

The Life of the Unemployed

I've decided to start blogging again, because I have a lot of time on my hands. Ah, the life of the unemployed.

The good news is that I just graduated with my master's degree. Woohoo. Just call me Master. Just kidding. The bad news, however, is that my last paycheck was last week, and now I am literally living on a prayer.

This is how bad it is, people. Last week, I went to Savers and scourged through the racks of jeans until I found five designer pairs that people oddly gave away. I then decided to sell them on eBay for some extra cash. My entrepreneurial initiative didn't go too well, I only sold one pair. Consequently, although I made $10 on that pair, it put my total losses at $20. Dangit. I'm going to have to put them up again, maybe lower the prices.

I do have a job babysitting Thursday and Friday. Yes. I have a master's degree and so far the only jobs I can get are the same ones I got at age 13. Let's not dwell on that fact.

I have been applying religiously for only a week now. So far, everything has slammed shut in my face. I have a feeling this is going to be a long road. That is not a fun feeling. At least I can sit by my parents' pool during the day instead of work. Looks like I'm going to be extremely tan, and bored, by the end of the summer....

Thursday, April 29, 2010

Ripped off!

Okay. Why don't I write for Glamour? They totally ripped me off (Ameera -- thank you for generously pointing out their plagiarism)! Ok, so maybe they didn't get it from me but they should have. Read this!

Friday, April 9, 2010

Things Married People Say to Singles

My roommate and I always joke about the things married people say to make singles feel better for being, well single. Though they have good intentions, in reality most of the advice doesn't really help. Don't stop giving advice however, if you have good advice to give. You will know that it's not good advice if it sounds at all like the following list I've compiled of "Things married people say to single people." If you find yourself spouting off any of these lines to your single friends, please, for the love of them, STOP.

1) You'll find someone if you just stop looking.
--Oh really? THAT'S why online dating sites are so popular and relatively successful. Because no one using them is looking!

2) You have to be happy with yourself before you can be with someone else.
--Ok while yes, you have to be happy enough being single that you won't go for any loser that comes your way, I'm sorry, it's relatively impossible to be like, totally happy about being lonely at night, or going on the umpteenth bad date of the year. The only reason married people say this, is because they forgot what it felt like. I'm convinced.

3) If I weren't married, I'd be totally happy being single.
--That is just false. False, false. You're married. How would you know? If you were really that happy single, you wouldn't be married. Just saying.

4) God has to be enough for you
--PLEASE! Yeah, in an ideal world. But God made us for companionship, plus this line makes me feel like I'm a horrible Christian for not wanting to be single my whole life. Don't ever use this line. Thank you.

Now I realize there is a some truth in all of the above lines. And no, being single is not all that bad really. But it will be if people continue to throw bogus lines at me. If I've missed any other lines, please let me know. I am eager to add them to my collection.

Peace out.

Monday, March 29, 2010

The Day My Hair Caught on Fire

Yesterday, my hair started on fire.

Yes. There were flames coming out of my head, and the smell of burning hair gel in the air.

Let me further explain.
Last night, I went to church by myself as usual. I walked in a bit late, so I settled for a secluded spot next to the wall. I sat down, and leaned back to survey the crowd and see if there was anyone I knew. All of a sudden, I spot a girl I know motioning to get my attention, "Colleen!" she yelled, and signalled for me to move. I was confused, and another guy I knew was motioning for me to come sit next to him. I got up, and all of sudden noticed something wasn't quite right. My head felt warm and there were sparks flying off of it.

"Omg," I thought, "my hair is on fire." The rest of the events are quite blurry, but I started patting my head to put out the flames. I succeeded in putting out the fire with my bare hands. Thank you very much. I then sat down, stunned. I was in the front, and the entire church saw my hair catch on fire. I began touching my head to get a feel for the damage. A chunk of hair fell out and my coat was sprinkled with ashes. I sat stunned. Stunned and laughing.

As soon as the worship began a woman I know who works at the church came up and got me. "I am so sorry your hair started on fire in my church!" she exclaimed. We went to survey the damage in the bathroom. Not bad. It just looked as if the front of my hair was pretty singed. "I owe you a haircut," she said. I told her not to worry about it. She convinced me to stay despite my embarrassed and I went back into the service, only this time, up in the balcony.

I did, however, leave early, since I was too embarassed to face everyone coming up to me and asking if I was okay.

Oh man. I cannot believe my hair caught on fire, in church, in front of everyone. Good story. When I got home that night I had to cut like major chunks off the end. With the right amount of hair product, it looks okay now.

Since it happened in church, maybe it was a holy sign. God has lit me on fire. I now bear witness with my scorched hair. Can I have an amen?!

Friday, March 19, 2010

Crashing the St. Patty's Day Parade

This post is a few days late, but I had the best St. Patrick's Day ever. Hands down.

Let's just say that the day started out with me and three friends going to a St. Patrick's Day parade, and ended with Anna and I being in a parade. Holler.

So around noon on St. Patty's Day, a few of us headed to downtown St. Paul to check out the parade action. The parade action turned out to be people carrying banners that said family names like, "Mulligan," or something, with individuals dressed in green following behind. It was totally lame so we lasted like 10 minutes before heading to the nearest Irish pub. While drinking green beer at the pub, we discovered that Minneapolis was having a parade at 6:00 p.m. That's when Ana came up with the brilliant idea to crash the parade. Hey, if it was as lame as the St. Paul one, all we'd need to do to be in it was dress in green and sneak our way into an unsuspecting group. Armed with our idea, we headed back to Minneapolis to get more decked out in green and find the parade's starting point.

A green scarf and some facepaint later, we head to Brit's downtown to grab a few drinks and conspire. A half-hour before the parade we made our way down to its starting point, and nonchalantly began mingling with people, grabbing some of the free food and and a bud light at the bar.

Soon, Anna and I spotted our perfect crashing opportunity. We snuck into a group that was simply wearing green and singing some Irish song. We even got someone to give us one of the flags they were waving. So, waving our flags and lip-syncing the unfamiliar song, we paraded down Nicollet Avenue yelling happy St. Patrick's Day. I was laughing so hard I could barely pretend to know the words. At the end of Nicollet Ave., we got a bit bored and decided to duck out. We had left the rest of our group at the parade's start so we headed back that way.

I had never been in a St. Patty's Day parade before Wednesday. Ha, it was such a good time. I guess, on this St. Patrick's Day, I actually had the luck of the Irish.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Inner Conflict

I just finished the most disturbing movie. So disturbing that everyone should see it. It's called the Stoning of Soraya M. It's about a woman in Iran who was wrongly accused of adultry to further her husband's adulterous goals, and thus stoned.

The whole movie has got me thinking again. I have always been passionate about furthering women's rights in the world. Especially in developing countries, or theocratic countries where the injustice runs deep.

How do I do that? How does anyone do that?

I'm currently looking for a job. The careers that interest me around here, and the ones I'm qualified for are mainly in advertising or public relations research. If I take a job in one of these fields, am I settling? Or, is there a way to do good for the world, no matter what your career is (well, obvious immoral ones not counting, i.e. murderer, Phillips-Morris employee, etc...)?

For the past few years, I have kind of wanted to be a journalist, because I've loved the idea of telling people's stories. But the true fact is, is traditional journalism is dying. Could there, however, be another way to tell truth, change the world, even if I don't work for the BBC?

I'm really wrestling with this at the current moment. Particularly because I'm really interested in advertising research. But how do I reconcile the things I'm passionate about, like women's development, justice, etc..., with a career in advertising research?

I feel like there must be a way. But maybe I'm just convincing myself of that. But maybe, changing the world isn't so much about the career you have. Maybe, it's about changing yourself, and standing up for truth wherever you find it. If anyone has any advice for me at the moment, I would gladly take it. Especially anyone who works in PR or advertising!

And back to the Stoning of Soraya M. Please, go out and rent it right now. It's a story that definitely deserves to be told.

Someone Help Me Decipher Lil' Wayne

I usually don't read TIME magazine anymore because the cover's always have some version of "How to fix (insert health care system, the world, the economy, etc...)," and I think it's lame because if they really knew how to fix things, they would be fixed. Plus, come up with a headline that doesn't begin with "How to."

That is beside the point however. The point is I picked up the latest TIME because I was bored yesterday and had already watched four episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians. I turned to the quotes page and one by Lil' Wayne was highlighted. He was finally heading to jail after several delayed sentences, and his response was, "Law is mind without reason."

Um, ok, will someone please explain that quote to me. I've been racking my brain and I just can't seem to figure out how it makes sense. Essentially he's saying law is unreasonable. I guess? Not that I should expect literary greatness from someone who wrote "Lollipop," but I guess something that made sense would be good. If anyone has any insight that can explain this mystery to me, I would appreciate it.

Thank you for your time.

Me.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

My Unblievable Life

So I just got back from a lovely weekend in Florida/Alabama with my college roommates. It was beautiful, and is making me long for a longer warm-weather getaway.

The first night we spent at the Hilton on the ocean. Then, we drove down to no-man's land Alabama, where one of my old roomies lives with her baby and military-man husband.

It was such a good time, but it's sooo crazy how different my life is from theirs. I mean, five years ago, we were all in the same boat. And now, well, I'm in the same boat and they are both married with babies. Well, one is only pregnant, but the baby will come.

It was funny, on the way to the beach we were reminiscing about college and they were like, "ohh remember when we used to go out, sleep in late, yada yada." I was like, "ummm...I don't know what you guys are talking about but that is still my life. I go out somewhere like every night, and don't wake up until nine every day." They were like, "really??" Like they couldn't believe it. Haha. My life is unbelievable. I love it.

It did kind of make me realize however, that the single life is somewhat of a privilege. I mean, once I get married and have a baby there is no more jetting off to India, or even to the corner bar on a Friday night. So I might as well enjoy my freedom while I can. Sure, I don't want it for the rest of my life, but for now, I might as well live it up. Maybe being single is more fun than people make it out to be.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Life Shower

I have a bone to pick.

I think that if you are still single by the time you turn 30, people should throw you a "life" shower. For this life shower, you should receive the wide-array of nice domestic items that married people receive for their weddings.

I mean, why should married people get all the fun & nice stuff. They already get the love of their lives, plus a stunning array of Williams Sonoma bakeware. For those who are single, it's like, "sorry, you have to be alone, and stuck with your grandmother's second-hand dishes from 1975. Have fun with that!"

I feel as if this is wrong. We no longer live in an age where people get married at age 22 as their starting out on their domestic lives. No, most of us are well-established before we get married, or rather, if we get married these days. Consequently, married people should not have all the fun!

If I'm single when I'm 30, I am throwing myself a life shower. I will make all my friends come. Yes, I will look pathetic roaming around Macys, little register remote in hand, by myself. And perhaps even more pathetic when the clerk asks me when I'm getting married and I reply, "I'm not." But, at least I will have the same hosting capacity as my married friends. Crate & Barrel dishes and all! So there.

Anyway, just an idea. And a rant. Onto another run (which is going great btw, weeee!).

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Five Stages and Magic Gear

Everyone has been so supportive these past few weeks. I cannot thank you all enough! Life is getting better ever since last week. I think there is a surefire "break-up" phase that we all go through. 1) consistent crying 2) consistent anxiety 3) consistent anger BUT mixed with acceptance 4) acceptance and 5) happiness and SOMEONE new!

It's been awhile, and I'm fairly happy. So let's hope #5 comes along soon.

In the wake of this minor tragedy - which will most likely turn out to be a happy miracle - I've decided to take up running. That's right. I am going to become an athlete. I have spent a significant amount of cash on new winter running apparel, and have signed up for the 100% Irish 5K in a couple weeks. I just received my new athletic wear in the mail the other day. I really think that it's magic. Seriously. I am not athletic, and I am never able to run around the lake (only 2.6 miles) by my house after months of inactivity and extra wine intake. Monday, however, I donned by new pink and black running gear and set off to conquer the lake -- and guess what -- I did. Yessiree, I ran the whole thing without stopping. This is a big accomplishment for me. I know you "runner-types" are laughing at my wimpy 2.6 miles conquest, but hey, 2.6 miles today 10 miles tomorrow! Well, let's hope anyway.

They say, whoever "they" are, that excercise is the best cure for lethargy. So I took 'em up on it. Also, my friend and I signed up for the 5K because of the party at Stella's afterwards. What is a 5k 100% Irish race without a little Guiness afterwards? Not 100% Irish let me tell you!

Ok, time to watch romantic comedies. Not sure if that is a healthy activity, but hey, I can't win 'em all.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Oh, Life.

I haven't written in awhile. Mainly, because my problems got a lot bigger in this past couple weeks than a pair of broken Uggs. My boyfriend and I broke a few weeks ago. Break-ups really suck. However, I'm trying hard to find the humor in my situation, which really does exist outside of the tears.

I mean, you should see my bedside right now. It's humorous. It's complete with a half-eaten chocolate bar, a broken wine glass, Benadryl, and a self-help book. I've woken up crying and unable to move so many days that my friend now has to regularly check on me around nine to make sure I've risen from bed. The first day, I couldn't even eat because that meant I'd have to stop crying long enough to shove food down my throat. I went home to stay with my mom for a night. When she got home from work the next day she found my lying in bed with the dogs, still. She said, "You have to get up. Do you want a new coat?" This tells you how desperate I looked. My mom does not regularly offer to buy me new coats.

Besides God's faithfulness of course, the one thing that gets me through horrible times like these is knowing that most people (including myself!) have gone through this before. It's amazing people's kindness when times get tough. Strangers buy me drinks after my friend's announce the reason why I look like I was just run over by a truck. Or maybe they're buying me a drink because I got a new haircut that looks hot. Hey, a girl can dream:).

Well, I don't really like to get too personal on this thing called the world wide web. However, I think there is humor in times like these, and that someday I'll be able to look back and truly laugh. Until then, I might as well have someone laughing at me. Forward march.

Friday, January 29, 2010

Problem of the Year: Broken Uggs!

I have a major problem/complaint on my hands. Yesterday, I was putting on my black Ugg boots and I hear a rip. I look down, and precious lambs-wool was spilling out of a one-inch rip next to the back seam. Since it was freezing out (Uggs=perfect in freezingness), and I was late, I wore them anyway, albeit with scorn. When I came home however, it got worse. As I was taking them off, I hear another rip. I look down, and the EXACT same thing happened to the other boot. Seriously!

And people in Haiti think they have problems (Ok, I am totally being sarcastic to make fun of myself here, don't freak out).

So now, I have two rips in the back of my favorite boots. I am not happy. I also, find this unacceptable for a product supposedly as high-quality as Uggs. I have worn these boots for less than six months. I received them last year for Christmas. I thought for sure Uggs would have like, a lifetime warranty or something, but when I looked on its website, it said a ONE year warranty only.

Oh no they didn't.

That will not do. I am sending those black classic boots back and I expect a full refund. There is no way, a $180 pair of boots should rip after being worn for six months. The website also said refunds after a year will be reviewed on a case-by-case basis. If I send these boots back, and Uggs gives me new ones, I will be happy and continue buying its products. However, if I am refused, I will not be happy and a permanent Uggs customer will be lost. I am just saying.

So here's hoping for the best. I'm sending them in tomorrow. If Uggs has any public relations sense they will give me boots that do not rip for no reason. Lame-o.

Ok, end of rant. Now you officially no I have no real problems in life, since I am so upset about this. Goodbye.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Thesis Time

I have finally settled on a thesis! One step down, five hundred million to go. I'm going to be looking at facebook groups formed after the Iranian protests and Haiti's earthquake. Don't ask me what I'm looking for I don't know. But it fits in with my general theme of social media and social change.

I was going to concentrate my research on Twitter, but I realized Twitter sucks to research. The fleeting presence of tweets, and the site's lack of archives make research pretty much impossible. Too bad, a lot is going on there right now. One thing I did realize while searching through a plethora of tweets surrounding Haiti, is that nonprofits are really doing a poor job at using social media. Nonprofit orgs do so many interesting things, yet they tweet about it like, once a month. Come on people -- you could get so many people interested in your work by broadcasting the cool things you do. Just a thought - to any nonprofit workers out there.

Welp, back to searching for academic literature on my topic. To the online library indexes!

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Julia Roberts vs. I

So, I am in my last semester of graduate school, and God-willing, I will graduate this spring. What that means is I will once again need a job. Since the job market is so great right now, I'm sure I will have no problem finding my dream occupation (please note the sarcasm).

Even though it's months away, and I have to complete a very important thesis beforehand, I am totally stressing out about finding a job. See, I don't want to be in a position that bores me to death, or that makes me think of running away to China in order to save my sanity. I want a job that energizes me and utilizes my skills and brings about satisfaction. I know this is a lot to ask, but hey, I believe it's possible! At least I am trying to.

I realized how stressed I was during the moment in which I started crying after watching "My Best Friend's Wedding." Why did I start crying? Because in the movie, Julia Roberts was 27 and had an extremely successful career as a food editor. This meant that I, at 26, with no job as a food editor was not at the top of my game. Yeah, I know it's a movie and I'm in graduate school, blah blah, but rationality has no place when you're stressed out. I forgot to mention that I was sick as well. So perhaps that had an influence on my sudden outburst over Julia Robert's character's success.

The job I want involves, writing, editing, traveling, international affairs, politics, human interaction, flexibility and not sitting at a computer for eight hours a day. If anyone sees an opportunity that matches this criteria, please let me know. God knows what other movie will set me off otherwise:).

I

Monday, January 18, 2010

India: Going Home Sweet Home

Twenty-eight hours (or so) and five plane rides later, I have arrived safe-and-sound back at home. Yeah! I just woke up after sleeping for 13 hours, so hopefully I have recovered from the jet-lag. A 12-hour time difference can really get to you. Also, I am VERY upset because somewhere en-route home, I lost my camera! Not cool. ALL my pictures were on there, and my trip-mates hardly took any. Consequently, we are left with no photographic memories of our adventures. So sad. I am praying for my camera's miraculous recovery.

We left Kolkata Saturday night at 7:30. In Minnesota time, that would be Sunday morning at 8:15. Let me tell you, the Kolkata airport was an experience in itself. I was at my wits-end. It is organized VERY differently than any American - or come to think of it - international airport I have ever seen. I would like to advise Kolkata to take advice from New Delhi and re-design their airport. Delhi has one of the nicest airport I have ever seen -- complete with reclining waiting chairs at the gates.

Anyway, we had pretty much an entire day to spend in Kolkata before heading to the airport. We woke up bright and early to spend our last morning volunteering with the Sisters. Jeff (who at 6' 3 is a giant in India, btw), was sent to some remote village to distribute food, and Molly and I had the opportunity to volunteer at a site called Prem Dan. I thought Prem Dan was wonderful. It is a site (established by Mother Teresa and the Sisters) dedicated to serving mentally-handicapped adults. It is located in the middle of a slum (houses thats roofs consist of plastic bags and floors of dirt), but as soon as the gates to Prem Dan open, you find yourself in a clean, spacious and well-kept living area. It's amazing.

I liked Prem Dan more than Khalighat, because you had more opportunities to interact with patients. Mainly because at Khalighat, the patients are too sick to interact with. We spent the first couple hours at Prem Dan hand-washing clothes. When all was rinsed and wrung, we got to head over to the women's ward and spend some time with the patients. Volunteers gave them massages, painted their nails and danced with the patients, who smiled and laughed as they were able. Again, it was incredible to see how much of a difference the work of the Sister's made. These people, being mentally handicapped, are the least of the least. But because of the Sister's dedication, they get to live lives of dignity in a beautifully kept residence. I really don't know if they would be alive without the care of Missionaries of Charity. I'm not sure there is a place for mentally handicapped women in the slums of Kolkata.

So we left our time volunteering with Missionaries of Charity on a high note. We spent the rest of our time in Kolkata eating. I am very sick of Indian food besides one dish: Cheese Masala Dosas. So good. Look them up if you have a chance. It's funny the things you crave while you are away. All I wanted the entire time was a milkshake and a cheesburger. Mainly, because we couldn't eat either. They had shakes all over India, but we were never sure whether or not they were pasteurized and thus stayed away. As for cheeseburgers, well, a good majority of Indians believe cows are gods. Needless to say, it was a bit difficult to find a place serving beef. The first thing I ate when I arrived in Washington was a vanilla milkshake. For dinner last night, Chris graciously made spaghetti upon my request, as good Italian is also in short supply in India.

Right now, I am thinking about heading to Chipotle. Chipotle and I seriously need some quality time, as do I and Trader Joe's. I am so glad to be back. Until you see India, you have no idea how quiet and clean the land of 10,000 lakes really is. Despite its chaos though, India does have its own charms and many intriguing mysteries. Perhaps someday I will find myself back in the land of colorful chaos--hopefully making a difference in some way.

India: Colorful Chaos

Editor's Note: I wrote this a few days ago

Today is out last full day in the land of colorful chaos. We leave tomorrow morning, and, despite the excitement of faraway lands, I'm rather looking forward to getting home.

We finished working at khalighat this afternoon. I have a newfound respect for those who work in geriatrics. It is so difficult caring for those who can no longer care for themselves. As I work with the women (feeding them, helping them exercise, etc...), I can't help but wonder who they were before they sucuumbing to their current state. Some of the women are mentally alert, and some even speak English, but many have resorted to an unfamiliar state. A state that reminds me so much of that as a child. One woman cries like a baby, one can simply scream in pain, and some can barely move at all; they just look at you with this empty gaze of pain that is so sad. As I tried to help one of these woman walk, I found myself asking God why he didn't just take her out of her misery. I wonder if these women had a family at one point -- if they worked, or whatever their story may be. Now, however, without the care of the Sisters (and, of course, God), God knows where they would spend their last days. Alone, most likely. The Sister's work definitely inspires me to care more about the poor.

Another thing that's cool about volunteering is that people come here from all over the world. Today I worked with a couple Argentinians, an Israeli, Italians, and a girl from New Zealand. Learning about and talking with people from different cultures is one of my favorite parts of traveling

Anyway, I'll talk more about the chaos of Kolkata. Have I mentioned yet, that men just bathe in the streets here? Yeah, they put a towel around their waist and scrub themselves down at streetside water pumps. At least they bathe I guess. So things in India are ridiculously cheap. Ridiculously. When we eat Indian food, all three of us can eat whole, good meals at a restaurant for like, under $5 USD. Taxis are around $1 for a 15-20 minute ride, and I got advil at a local pharmacy for 20 cents. I am going to have serious financial shock going back to the U.S. and paying $4.50 for a latte instead of a dollar. However, if I don't have to be deafened by car horns as I sip it, it just might be worth the money...

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Calcutta: Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity

The reason we came to Calcutta was to volunteer with Mother Teresa's ministry, Missionaries of Charity. On Monday, we went to volunteer orientation. The volunteers consist wholly of Western Europeans, and Koreans. We signed up to volunteer at Khaligat --- the house Mother Teresa set up for the destitute and dying -- during the afternoon. There were no spots for us to volunteer in the morning, so we agreed to help the sisters out with odd jobs around their living quarters during that time.

This morning was our first day of volunteering. We got up early and attended mass at 6:00 a.m. We then ate a breakfast of bananas, bread and chai, before cleaning and organizing around the nuns administrative and living quarters. It was really interesting talking with people there. The sister who is in charge of volunteers is an American. She was in DC before being transferred to Calcutta. Apparently nuns are not really allowed to keep in contact with people in the outside world. They take a vow of poverty so they don't use mail, or e-mail. Their families are allowed to call them, but they cannot call their families, and while families are allowed to visit nuns, nuns can only visit their families once every ten years. That's nuts. One more reason I cannot be a nun. I like e-mail too much. It's very humbling though, observing the sister's commitment to God. They are completely obedient and reverant -- willing to give up anything for Jesus and thus the poor.

We arrived late to our afternoon volunteer post. Navigating Indian streets is pretty much impossible. I road a public transportation bus today, packed with people. Between that and the train I think I'm officially allowed to call myself hardcore. Very intense experiences.

Anyway, despite arriving late we were able to help out a bit. I served food and washed dishes at Khaligat, which is pretty much a hospice. It is lined with beds, where mostly old, tiny women lay. Most of them are dying, but a few will recover I'm told. It's really sad. But, again, really humbling. In the Bible it says that the first will be last, and the last first. I can't help but thinking about that statement as I walk through beds of old women, without anyone to care for them and no means of taking care of themselves. But according to God, they aren't the least of these; they are of invaluable worth. Consequently, serving them should be an honor.

I can't say I totally have the above mindset yet, but confronted with so much suffering, it makes me ponder such a concept more than ever. It's easy to elude suffering and pondering back in the comforts of the U.S. -- for me anyway, not everyone.

Tomorrow, we will go back to Khaligat and the mother house. Thursday we have off and Friday will be our last day. Right now, I'm going to go enjoy some more Indian food and India's famous Kingfisher beer. It will be just the thing to give me energy for tomorrow.

Calcutta: The Enigma Continues

There is no way, that I could find words sufficient enough to describe the enigma that is India. That being said, I will try anyway.

We arrived in Kolkata (aka Calcutta) Monday morning via train. The 14 hour train ride from Darjeeling to Kolkata was truly a once in a lifetime experience. I can't say I will ever try to relive such an experience again. We rode 3rd class, AC. When the train pulls up in the station and opens it doors, the crowds rush. There is no rhyme or reason or personal space, you just have to shove your way into your seat. At first, I thought I was going to die. Vendors and street kids come and go, selling and begging down the aisles until the next station, where they get off. My saving grace was that at night, train staff locks down the train, and we all get our own bunk so sleep on -- complete with clean sheets. Or so I hope. I did see one of the first cockroaches of my life crawling on the train walls. Yummmm.

So after 14 or so hours you arrive at the train station, only to step out into more chaos. In India, cows just like, lie in the middle of the street (more so in rural areas I guess, but also in the city). People just swerve to avoid them, because after all, they believe a god lives inside of them. The train stations have chickens, dogs, goats, you name it. And everyone crowds around you hoping to sell you something. Thankfully, my travelmates met some nice locals on the train, and one of them guided us through the throngs to a legit taxi.

I like Kolkata better than New Delhi. New Delhi just gives me a bad vibe. Kolkata is full of color and chaos. I have never seen so many people in my entire life. I also almost die every time I cross the street -- the traffic here takes no prisoners. When we first arrived here and checked into our hotel, we headed straight for a Pizza Hut. There was no messing around. Pizza Hut was a pretty normal experience, it was exciting.

What wasn't a normal experience was our dinner. We ate at a South India restaurant, that had really good food (Dosas=yum). The strange thing was, however, that our waiter was barefoot. Like, he just didn't want to put on shoes that day. It was a relatively nice restaurant. Things got even stranger when he cleared out table. He grabbed an empty water bottle, as waiters usually do when you're done. Instead of taking it to the kitchen though, like normal, he just put it in a plant pot next to our table. What? A plant pot? Just another normal day in Kolkata.. Everything here definitely keeps you on your toes.

Friday, January 8, 2010

India: Sunrise in the Himalayas

So backtracking a bit to the ride up to Darjeeling. I say ride, but it was so much more than that. It was three hours of me hiding gasps of fear as we climbed up windy, seriously bumpy, mountain roads, dodging animals, cars and people, all the while listening to cheesy covers of classic 80s hits like, "Ghostbusters," and "Like a Virgin." It was quite the experience. We were all sick by the time we reached the city, which is built snugly on the side of the mountain, overlooking the Himalayas.

Darjeeling is a quiet town, everything closes down at 8:30. We arrived at 8:15, and thus had 15 minutes to get ourselves to a restaurant or starve. We managed the former and I dined on chicken fried rice and sweet and sour chicken. Let me just say when I ordered sweet and sour chicken I was thinking LeeAnn Chinn's. That is not what I received. Apparently, real sweet and sour chicken is much more sour than sweet, and so not as good as it's American counterpart.

After dinner we went to bed. We got up at 4:15 a.m. the next morning to head to Tiger Hill and catch the sunrise over Kangchenjunga, the third highest mountain in the world and part of the Himalayas. In the distance, you could see the tip of Mt. Everest, thought it looked small as it was fairly far away. It was nothing short of amazing to see the sunrise over the Himalayas, illuminating the peaks in soft pinks and oranges. I was tired, considering I'm not sure I've ever awaken at 4:15 a.m. in my life, but it was worth it.

India: Two Weeks of Fame

Hi again from Darjeeling. I know I left off saying I'd discuss the ride up here but I have to mention one other strange thing here first.

Indian tourists love to take pictures with white people. It's fairly odd. I was first approached for a photo op at the Taj Mahal, by a group of sightseeing Indian guys. I was hesitant at their primary request, but finally acquiesced. There were about five of them, and they didn't just want a photo with their group and I, they wanted a photo of me and every individual member of their group. So I posed for about five photos. Laughing, I said goodbye as they thanked me and walked on, thinking perhaps they were a strange anomaly. I was wrong. Not long after, I was approached by another group of Indian guys who requested the same thing. "We are Indian, and you are not," explained one guy upon photo request. I laughed and went along with the whole thing again.

By the time another group of Indian guys approached me yesterday at Tiger Hill, I had figured out that wanting to take pictures with white girls was apparently the norm in this country. And it's not just men that want pictures with you, but girls and young women as well. Shopping on the streets of Darjeeling last night, this young Indian woman approached me giggling, and introduced herself. "You want a photo?" I asked, and she said yes and we posed. Laughing, she tried to explain in broken English why she wanted a photo. "I am black," she said, "and you are white. Thank you." I burst out laughing. So strange. She's not even black she's Indian but I suppose that's beside the point. The point is, in fact, that if you are white and want your 15 minutes of fame, come to India. They will be asking for photo ops like you are Angelina Jolie or something. You just might get your time in the sun, before you have to go back home and go back to being just another face in the crowd.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

India: Cows, Chaos and Adventure

Greetings from India! I am currently in Darjeeling -- tea capital of the world. It's the sixth day of the trip however, so I will start from the beginning and end up in Darjeeling on some other post.

We arrived in Delhi on Monday night, exhausted. Delhi is the definition of chaos. I'm pretty sure one more day there and I would have literally gone into the middle of the street and started screaming "STOP DRIVING LIKE CRAZY PEOPLE!" The concept of lanes does not exist there, despite the white lines painted on the roads. When we were there it was "Driving Safety Week," or something. There were tons of people on the side of the roads w/ signs that said "lane driving is safe driving," or "drive safe, drive again." Unfortunately, their signs weren't very effective.

Despite the chaos the city was relatively interesting. Perhaps the most interesting part was riding on a rickshaw -- which is a cart pulled by a biker. The rickshaw drivers pulled you around the skinny market roads where people sold gorgeous, glittering saaris, bangles, food and every other trinket you can imagine. And everything is super cheap. Even a mini pizza at Pizza Hut is like, $2. Yes they have Pizza Hut in India. It only took us one day to get sick of Indian food, which consists of curry. I know people talk about globalization like it's a bad thing. But personally, I don't really mind it. I mean, I can go anywhere in the world and get a little piece of home, whether that piece be a Pizza Hut or brand name or weird Kenny G Christmas music playing in a restaurant in New Delhi. True, I am an American so I get the ultimate advantage of globalization but still...

The second day of our Delhi experience, our driver took us to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. Agra is a four hour drive from Delhi, but that does not mean it's 360 miles. Not, it's like half that, but driving in India is not exactly an American freeway experience, as I mentioned above. The car ride to Agra may have been the worst car ride I've ever experienced. It was four hours of dodging people, dogs, trucks, cows, whatever, and almost running into them multiple times. It was four hours of constant honking --- the horn seems to be an Indian driver's best friend. I personally want to destroy all car horns at the moment, but I'm trying to control myself.

Anyway, the trip to the Taj Mahal was well worth it. The monument was incredible. I was actually surprised at how amazing it was. I am proud to announce that this is the third wonder of the world I have seen...only four more to go!

Seeing the Taj took the whole day. The next day, we hopped on a four-hour plane ride to Bagdogra, India, from which we took a three hour car ride up the mountains to Darjeeling. That car ride will be the subject of a following blog. Let me just say it included fear, animals and weird covers of "Billie Jean" and "Ghostbusters." It was great. To be continued...