Traveling Across Borders

(Note:  This post was written many moons ago.  Re-discovered and published at the nearing end of my Fulbright year abroad in Jordan, August 2012.)

I've dreamed of traveling since I first learned of the real possibility in high school. Many of my classmates had lived in another country for most of their childhood. Most of them knew more than one language fluently, which I saw as profoundly exotic. China, Japan, Thailand, France, Russia, India, Bangladesh...the list went on. As an American, I felt uneducated and perpetually stuck in a world defined by its fastfood restaurant chains and culture of no culture. People are more pre-occupied with their jobs than maintaining a life rich in tradition and family. Of course, this viewpoint romanticizes a foreign lifestyle, and what people often fail to realize is the tremendous amount of privileges we have in this country, and the swells of kind people that live in our midst.

Traveling across the country by bicycle changed my views on America for the better. I was able to see a nation rich in culture and tradition, as well as natural beauty. People welcomed us into their communities and homes with open arms and giving hands. Most towns we spent our nights in were bordering on destitute, with little more than a grocery store and a grade school. However, their spirits were high and so were their hopes. They saw the good in others and had the simple, yet beautiful desire to make things better for their families and themselves.

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I think our country has gotten a lot of things wrong in the past and in the present: some Americans believe that we are a nation unto ourselves and that we owe the world nothing except our competitive edge to tower over others and rise to the top. However, I feel that if we all look very closely, it doesn't matter if you travel to Paonia, Colorado or Korphe, Pakistan- people are struggling for the same basic rights that allow dignity of the human spirit: education, access to health care and a healthy lifestyle, freedom of Religion and freedom of Thought.

In Greg Mortenson's new book, Stones into Schools, he refers back to his previous book, Three Cups of Tea, and the belief that one cup of tea means you are a stranger, two cups means you are a friend, and three cups means you are family. What would happen if we took the time to travel to communities throughout the country and throughout the world, sit down with a family, and share a cup of tea? Where would a conversation begin and where would it take us? What similarities would connect the concerns and desires of a family in the US and a family in Central Asia or Africa?

I bring this up because I find myself, along with many other young individuals (yes, I consider myself young and still a bit naive), grappling with the notion of purpose and my place in this life. There's always a struggle between the concept of formal education and the education provided by life experience. I've always been one to learn from experience- my perserverance shines through more often when I'm climbing a mountain than when I'm writing a research paper.

I've found myself experiencing a particularly strong desire to travel lately, and to do something for people who need it most. But what to do, exactly? Where does one start? Do you teach english abroad? Do you offer your services as a community health worker? Do you plop yourself down in an unknown country and expect to learn as you go?

What is the best way of giving as much of yourself as possible?

I may not be cycling across the country this coming summer, but that doesn't mean I will be sitting at home twiddling my thumbs...

1 year ago (a post from the lost archives)...

(note:  this post was written 1 year following my 2009 4K for Cancer trek.  Re-discovered and published 3 years later.)

One year ago on Sunday, I set off on a journey that was beyond my wildest dreams. I met people and saw places that you cannot see from your car window.

Everything in life is an adventure- your first kiss, your first day of college, your last day of college, your first job, your first love. It is all so wonderful and jitter-worthy. The 4K for Cancer was one of my big life adventures. It was beautiful, hard, nerve-wrecking, exciting and scary. It stirred my soul to the very core, sometimes more than others.

I now stand a year ahead of the beginning and look out to the horizon behind me. I realize that the strengths and weaknesses it brought out in me were all in preparation for the future, and that I can't necessarily wish for it to happen all over again, because that would only bring me back to where I started. Rather, I am happy with where I find myself now. I am on an adventure right now, and everyday afterwards.

When the Only Way is Up

I am entering week 2 of living in Baltimore as a member of the greater unemployed.

It is unfortunately easy to pity yourself when life has handed you an empty box of chocolates after you've graduated from college with a head filled with hopes and dreams. You've traversed the entire country on a bicycle, utilizing your own physical and mental strength to climb mountains and defeat ungodly temperatures. Then, you enter the real world...and it sucks. Sometimes it seems that people don't give a crap if you've saved a life or saved a thousand lives. Rather, the world is only made up of numbers that decide the course of your life, and that is it. As a self-proclaimed idealist, it's a very harsh perspective to throw out there. Despite all the terrible things that happen in the world, and all the terrible people that let them happen, there are a select few who have the ability to change the world (and have done so).

But we are all human, and even the best of us are put down when the odds seem stacked against us. Coming from a school where med school is a very common anticipation, I have seen people crash and burn from the stress and pressure that such a process wreaks on them. On the 4K, I saw the toughest of people rubbed raw by injuries to the point of screams and tears. I have been reduced to sitting in the bathroom with the door locked and crying my eyes out in an absolute stupor as to why I have filled out trillions of applications and talked to dozens of people, only to end up back at square one.

And then, all these people who, aside from their resilience, have just hit rock bottom, come together and realize they are not alone. And what's more, that they aren't quite stuck to the floor. There's a way out of this mess, but it only comes with accepting the help of others.

So, my advice to any of my unemployed peers out there is this: don't lock yourself in the bathroom. Let someone in (not into the bathroom, per say. That's just strange). Chances are, they've got something they've been itching to get out, too. Before you know it, you've got the energy to keep going. We've come this far. Who is to say that it's over yet? Only you have that capability. It's your life, after all.

The City is Calling

Okay. New plan. Doylestown is out and Baltimore, YOU'RE IN!!

After spending long, drawn out hours contemplating my future (48 hours to be exact) I decided that Doylestown isn't the place for me. As enticing as it would be to pay $0 in rent and save a bucket load of money in no time fast, I'm itching for the city. Financial sacrifices will be made, and I can see myself reverting back to the days of purchasing only generic brands and shopping more often at the thrift stores. However, when you can walk just about any place (or take cheap/free public transportation), have friends at every hour of the day to visit and relax with, or just your choice of museums to sporadically pop into during your downtime, why would you NOT choose the City that Reads?

That being said, I am currently looking for apartments in the Baltimore City/Charles Village area. If you are a relatively clean and personable individual looking for an apartment mate, hit me up!

Finding Comfort in the Crazy

Author and superathlete, Chris McDougall, has just published his most recent book, Born to Run. I commonly promote books that I have yet to read, however, as I was driving into Princeton today in my endless search for employment, I was listening to Radio Times with Marty Moss-Coane on NPR. She was profiling McDougall's new book and talking with him about his adventures off the map. It immediately gave me goosebumps to hear this professional athlete and published author discuss his love for a sport and, for that matter, a culture, that involved absolutely NO competition. Enter the 4K mentality that our team had lived and breathed throughout these past couple months. After recently talking with my friend Raffi, who is now living in California and cycling with category ONE cyclists, we both realized the intensity that is injected into the sport and the culture that has been nurtured by those who are more concerned about sprinting up a hill faster than they did yesterday than noticing the snow-capped mountain right in front of them.

As both a runner (only temporarily out of commission) and a cyclist, I have constantly struggled with the culture to win. With this culture comes a huge industry of methods and gear that promote easier ways to run and bike. For example, as McDougall points out in his interview with Moss-Coane, there is no need for these fancy-schmancy running shoes that hit the shelves every season. Believe it or not, there is a much more natural way of running: barefoot. Despite the intrepid fear of being stabbed by a nail or two lying in the road, barefoot running has been proven as the most natural form of running and is the most successful method of maintaining proper body mechanics while hitting the pavement.

For me, the same issues may be occuring in the cycling world nowadays. Granted, I own a bike with a carbon fork and a specialized woman's seat, but in the way of "road shoes vs. mountain shoes" and CO2 pumps that weigh lighter than a frame pump I could care less. Not to brag, but along with 26 other AMATEUR cyclists, I biked across the entire continent on a less-than-spectacular bicycle (frame pump and clunky mountain shoes included) and I made it to San Francisco. I dunked my damn bike into the Pacific Ocean, for Christ's sake! It still runs to this day (minus a slightly broken bike computer...but who needs that high-tech shit anyways?) and I am not all-that-far behind my Dad, who has been cycling on a $5,000+ Serotta.

My point? People need to get back to the nature and beauty of where a sport originated from. (No, I will not use Lance Armstrong's over-used phrase.) It's not about the competition or the incessant desire for more advanced, light-weight gear. It's not about perfectly-wound handlebar tape, cushiony running sneakers or computers that calculate your time, distance, mph, rpm, heart rate, outside temperature, etc. It's about the love and the ecsatsy that floods your system as soon as you begin to move. When I bike or run, it's my time to think and clear my head. It's that rare hour or three hours where my mind and my body are so in sync that they fuse together in one continuous motion.

This orgasm of sorts is polluted when it's injected with all that excess and the added desire to win. Sure, it's fun to hit 40 mph going down a steep downhill, and it's exhilerating to hit your max speed on an uphill with your more-advanced friend. You suddenly realize how much more capable you are at the thing you love. It's a two-fer. However, when that becomes a constant state of mind, it can be detrimental. You give up the gift of adventure that our modern human bodies are so hesistant to lay before us. You can bike 30 miles a day, every day for the next 5 months, lose a good amount of weight and gain some pretty sexy looking quad muscles. But will you feel like you've transcended space and time? Have you climbed a mountain in every time zone of the country? Have you come upon a hidden tribe in the middle of the Copper Canyons?

It is just my personal preference, but if I had the choice, I would rather experience the unexperienced.

Shout Out Across the Globe

ANNOUNCEMENT: My dear friend (and an avid cyclist!), Sharlene Su, is making her way to the other side of the globe to study Chinese language and acupuncture for the next few months! Best of luck to you, my love.
*If you'd like to check out her blog, click here and keep up with her on her journey.

Imagine This...

Badwater Ultramarathon