Musings
Badass Female Pioneers

Badass Female Pioneers

When I was in fourth grade, my teacher assigned a biography project. We chose a famous person, researched about their life, wrote their biography, recorded our voices on tape, and gathered clothing and accessories to portray that person. On the final day, we displayed our projects in the form of a wax museum. We stood in...
Documenting my Peace Corps projects

Documenting my Peace Corps projects

[Hanging out with some of my adult students after class.] When I created this blog in 2011, I intended it to be a travel blog, but over the past few years, it’s merged into a travel/art/lifestyle/I-write-whatever-the hell-I want-to-write-and-that’s-why-this-blog-could-never-be-that-popular kind of blog. However, one topic I rarely write about is work. In Korea, I occasionally wrote...
I Live on the Beach: an update and some goals for the next two years

I Live on the Beach: an update and some goals for the next two years

So long to schedules! The nine-hour days of Peace Corps training have ended, and I’ve entered a period of transition and adjustment. A month ago, I moved to my site, La Boquilla, located on the beach, 25 minutes north of the center of Cartagena. La Boquilla is an Afro-Colombian, peri-urban community mainly comprised of fishermen....
A day in the life of a Peace Corps trainee: Colombia

A day in the life of a Peace Corps trainee: Colombia

5 AM: My battery-powered alarm clock buzzes next to my bed. I turn the light on, turn my fan off, pull on my running shorts, and tip-toe into the bathroom next to my host family’s room. To no avail, my host mom jumps out of bed the second she hears the slight creak of the...
It feels weird to not be alone.

It feels weird to not be alone.

Since I turned 18, I’ve moved around and left my footprints on four different continents. For the most part, I’ve initiated these endeavors on my own. I do my research (or lack thereof) alone. I fly alone. I walk alone. I ride buses alone. I book hostels alone. I meet so many people, but still,...
The homeless woman and the bus

The homeless woman and the bus

A few days ago, when the Colombian soccer team was scheduled to play Uruguay, some volunteers and I decided to chill at a pizza place and drink a couple beers after class. Wanting to explore the city more, we decided to meet in a neighborhood of Barranquilla called Los Andes, where some of the volunteers...
Staying with nomadic Mongolian families: part III

Staying with nomadic Mongolian families: part III

Day 3: I arrived at the third family’s home, where I met my host mother and her two grown daughters. One of the daughters and I walked towards the forest to collect kindling for the wood stove. As I piled fallen branches into my arms, I remembered a moment during my exchange semester at the...
Staying with nomadic Mongolian families: part II

Staying with nomadic Mongolian families: part II

Day 2: The clouds hung heavy in the sky; it was about to rain. The second family greeted me outside and ushered me into their ger–a round felt tent traditionally used by nomads. The mother, Amar, handed me a mug of suutai tsai, hot, salted milk tea. I sat on the couch and tried to formulate some...

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