C'est La Vie

(From April 1)

Hi there, friendly people!

Happy weekend to you all. Unfortunately, although it is technically the weekend for me since it’s Friday, I still have quite a bit of schoolwork to which I must attend in the next few days, so it’s not a real restful weekend like the ones I’ve had over the past month or so. It’s all part of that commitment to bettering my learning!!! (Which is sounding much less attractive now that I have to put together a group presentation on a Saturday morning…)

The past few days have been packed with lectures on the history and economics of Cape Town and South Africa as a whole. They’ve been utterly fascinating, and the caliber of our lectures is out of this world. Many of them have been advisors to the UN, and one of the lecturers showed us a graph integral to the understanding of the economics of Cape Town—and he was one of the contributors to the study! Learning from the forefront experts in the fields about which we are learning really enriches our academic experiences. So that’s pretty cool!

I got smashed by a wave of homesickness yesterday while texting my mom. She was comforting me about some issues about which I don’t even feel like thinking about right now, and she made me feel so much better, but not being able to hear her voice and realizing that I couldn’t just run into her arms and make her give me a hug brought tears to my eyes. I’m excited to go home.

After taking an hour long nap yesterday then bidding adieu around 9 PM to go to sleep, my host mother appraised me with slitted eyes. “You like to sleep a lot, don’t you,” she ventured. I confirmed the statement. “I could tell,” she responded, with a little bit of sass. Another host mom disappointed in my lack of raginess. Well, I suppose that’s just me. C’est la vie.

My long ten-hour sleep that I thought would completely defeat the jetlag still felt much too short. I woke up groggily to my 7:10 AM alarm then attempted to sound chipper when my host father rapped on the door to ensure we were getting ready. We ate a quick breakfast of Kellogg cornflakes (reminded me of India) and some fruit, then got on our way.

A little bit about Cape Town and where I’m staying, etc.

Cape Town’s weather resembles Southern California’s quite a bit. It’s a little bit wetter, honestly, but it’s currently fall here, and it’s in the 60’s—perfectly balmy. Never thought I’d say this (literally never), but it’s kind of nice to wear a jacket again! I’m living on the base of Signal Hill, which is a hill (duh) that makes up the eastern border of the Cape Bowl. I look out onto Table Mountain (v famous) and Lion’s Head, a mountain that looks vaguely like the profile of a lioness. Behind Signal Hill is the more rounded bay of Cape Town with the oval-shaped stadium that was built for the 2010 World Cup and is probably more recognizable from pictures. When I first saw the Bowl, I was slightly jarred, as it seemed more cosmopolitan and less nature-y than I’d imagined. I think that’s because the other side of Signal Hill is what I’ve been picturing, so I’m excited to explore that, too. I have a fabulous view from my homestay’s balcony and look out over the entire Bowl, which lights up at night and sparkles in the darkness. I also loved that today, as soon as I rounded the corner of my building and started down the outdoor flight of stairs, I smelled a fresh ocean breeze. I stopped in my tracks (to the slight confusion of Savannah, my roommate) and spread my arms wide and savored being back next to a big salty body of water. EEP LOVE IT.

To get from my homestay to my classroom, we walk straight down a massive hill, past some beautifully cheery, brightly colored homes that have come to symbolize Bo’Kaap neighborhood (look it up—they’re so pretty!). We walk past numerous restaurants, cultural centers, museums, and business places to get to class, which means we get to observe the city center of Cape Town at its busiest and most “real” every day. That’s pretty cool. I’ve already created a list of things I’m dying to see and do before I leave—and I only have four weeks left!!!

Okay, back to my day. Neighborhood Day, one of my favorite parts of this program, was today, which means we visit a small patch of the city and explore it to learn about its history, population, and lifestyle. I went with a group of five to Claremont, which is really close to the city center and has a hip college town vibe with yoga studios, stylish (and cheap!!!) clothing stores, and delicious food. I had to be dragged away from the Forever 21-type establishments before I cleaned out my bank account. Upon returning to Bo’Kaap, I ate a delicious dinner of fried chicken and konked out for a two-hour nap.

A bunch of friends are going out tonight because it’s Friday woohoo!!! But I’m conserving my energy for a weekend full of activities and sight-seeing and physical activity. Time to snuggle into bed with Infinite Jest—and maybe a class reading or two—then get to sleep.

Small detour for a second, because the inability to access WiFi and therefore anything on my phone besides my camera has pushed me to engage in the most desperate of mobile activities: flipping through my old photos. I think about who I was in April of last year (happy April!), and I realize that I’ve been out of the country, pretty independently, for five of the last twelve months. I’ve seen three Wonders of the World, I’ve traversed five different continents, I’ve forayed through nine different countries… And I’ve changed. A lot. I’ve left people behind as I’ve outgrown them, and my burgeoning maturity (don’t laugh at that, Mom) and my strengthening self-esteem have allowed me to recognize the differences between a true friend and an abuser of my generosity. And so the ones that I have decided to shed, due to differing levels of kindness, worldliness, and empathy, give me no qualms, and I spare only a fleeting thought of “good riddance” as I swipe past their pictures.

It is those who have left me behind, before I’d attained this new maturity, and self-respect, and who may have appreciated me more had I possessed these a few months earlier, that give me pause. And it makes me wish that I could meet some of these people again, as the woman I am today, someone of whom I am proud and love a little bit more, so that they could appraise this Aubrey—and maybe some things would have turned out a little differently.

BUT c’est la vie. In a few hours, while I’m (hopefully) dead asleep, my rooming situation for my senior year at Harv will be decided by fate. Fingers crossed that I get a room all to myself for the first time at Harvard!!!

Contemplative and appreciative and isolated from the rest of the world,

AubStod

Settling Into Cape Town

From March 30

After the blur and business and intense learning of the last twenty-four hours, I can tell that the next five weeks of my life are going to absolutely fly by.

After taking a melatonin pill last night to ensure that I didn’t wake up at 4 in the morning (which would be about 11 PM Brazilian time), I conked out and didn’t wake up until… the alarm of somebody else which sounded an hour and a half before I wanted to arise. Awesome. I took advantage of the extra time to delve into Infinite Jest, a thousand-page odyssey set in Boston, Massachusetts that I began two weeks ago and had hoped to finish before coming to South Africa. Tough luck, but hopefully I will finish it quickly now that I have extremely limited distractions—but more about that in a bit.

In every other country to which we’ve travelled, we have been afforded at least eighteen hours of uninterrupted chill and rest before programming begins. Not so with Cape Town. As I said, we were shepherded around town all of yesterday, then given an 8:30 AM call-time with the expectation that we would have “recovered” from jetlag. LOL YA OK.

But, we all composed ourselves and mustered some excitement for the scavenger-hunt-like activity this morning. We were given a one-page list of walking instructions and leading questions then allowed to roam the city center in groups of seven. My group happened upon some fascinating sights, including:

• The former sight of the Racial Classification Board, a governmental organization that decided the designation of “white,” “colored,” “black,” and numerous other sickening labels that would decide everything about the rights and lives of the citizens. I have yet to find out how apartheid differed from Jim Crow in the South—or whether it did at all—but it was still jarring to see the relics of two benches, one with the inscription “Whites Only,” the other with the inscription “Non-Whites Only.”
•  The site of the first public library in South AfricaThe Centre of the Book, an institution dedicated to cultivating a love of reading in South Africa
• The Supreme Court of South Africa—fascinating, as I hope to one day work at (or across the street/town from) its American equivalent *wink wink*
• Cape Town’s City Hall—the site of Nelson Mandela’s very first speech. Actually, the balcony on which he spoke was blocked from the public behind locked gates, but after explaining our identities and situation to a few people inside of the building, we were taken on a private tour by one of the higher-ups through the hallways and out onto the actual balcony. SO cool!!
• We then nabbed a quick lunch (not Indian, phew), then headed to a public library for class. I had to be cajoled through the numerous stacks of fascinating books, as I almost halted in the middle of the library to check out like fifteen novels. We sat through about four and a half more hours of class—which I would have fallen asleep in were it not for the fascinating material and my determined resolution to really and truly make the most of Cape Town

A few days ago, I realized with a start that my time on this study abroad program is almost over and that I have not nearly begun to make of it what I hope to. In India, I was overwhelmed—emotionally, sensorally, psychologically—and it was personally impossible for me to invest my full attention and intellect in the academia and culture. I was simply too exhausted and too busy trying to survive with my sanity intact. In Sao Paulo, I fell in love with the city and with my host family. I visited museums and went to a few nightclubs (okay, only one) and hung out with my host sister and niece. However, I played Sudoku in class and spent too much time rolling my eyes at boring, repetitive lectures. Cape Town, I’ve decided, is my place. I will do every reading (or almost every reading); I will think critically about the issues with which I am presented; I will explore the nooks and crannies of the nature, the museums, the clubs, and the stores of this city with excitement and an open mind. (Starting tomorrow, because I opted for an early night of sleep in lieu of a jazz festival. I’m jetlagged, okay!??!)

After class, we drove a short distance to Bo’Kaap, a Muslim neighborhood in the city centre and our homes for the next ten days. Yes—ten days. We have two homestays here in Cape Town, meaning two partners, two families, two households, two sets of rules, two types of cooking, etc. etc. My homestay mother—whom I call Mama—calls Savannah and I her “darlings” and cooked us a delicious dinner and showed us her stunning view of the city of Cape Town (two amazing views in a row—I’m so lucky!!). My homestay dad, Papa, bought me delicious ice cream from a nearby market, so clearly, they already know me well.

There’s no WiFi in my homestay, which I strangely and kind of shockingly was hoping for. I think that in Sao Paulo, I checked Facebook/Snapchat/Twitter too often; that I thought of who was messaging me or who wasn’t messaging me with an unhealthy mindset; that I obsessed over the mundane and petty back home and back at school too heartily. It made me uneasy. I want to totally devote my attention and energy to Cape Town, and I hope to return to the contemplative, inflective state that I’d acquired in India.

I never would have imagined that I’d forgo WiFi happily and eagerly. I never would have thought that I’d breathe a sigh of relief in finding I had no Internet. And that makes me wonder—have I changed? I’ve attributed all of my new qualities—a recognition of certain inequalities; attentiveness to detail; more intellectual and meaningful observation and conversation; a fiery resolution to stick by my ideals; an invasive negativity that can cloud my shiny, naïve optimism; uneasiness with going out on the town; and many more that I’m just beginning to realize as I actually list them—to my surroundings; I’ve recognized them as temporary, fleeting mechanisms with which to cope with these foreign environments. But what if that’s me now? What if I return to America, to California and Boston, and realize that I’ve carried with me these new outlooks and ideas and ways of approaching the world? Or perhaps, in a potentially scarier outcome, what if I shed these traits and slip back comfortably into the life of the Aubrey that departed for New York two and a half months ago? I feel so in flux, and I wonder if others will think that I have changed when I come back home.

I will be finding out soon, though, because this program really is almost over. I almost teared up today, thinking of saying goodbye to Sally, Jenn, and Caitlin. I honestly don’t know how I’ll function without their constant presence—I already miss Sally’s laugh, and it’s only been four hours since I’ve seen her!!! Excepting one weekend in India, this is probably the furthest I’ve been from her for a period longer than three or four hours, considering we were homestay partners then neighbors then spring break buddies. How absurd that I’ve grown so close so quickly to these lovely people and that we will never be so physically close for such a long time ever again. UGH but wait I have another month and I don’t want to cry on my first night in this homestay!!! So, I think I’ll end this post right about now, and reaffirm my gratefulness for this opportunity, my joy in recognizing how lucky I am, and my determination to make the most of Cape Town and really reflect on what I’ve accomplished so far.

Lots of love,

Aubrey

Savoring Sao Paulo

Oh my gosh—I can’t believe it’s only been about 48 hours since my previous blog post! It kind of feels like I’ve been in Sao Paulo for a lifetime, and India feels years away. Before I even get into my incredible day and a half that I’ve had in Sao Paulo, I’d love to echo a sentiment that my new homestay partner, Samantha, made about being in Brazil after India. She commented that our time here (even though it’s been short thus far) has already begun to color her recollection of India and how she perceives her experiences in Ahmedabad.

I couldn’t agree more.

It seems that all of us have already begun to compare, to relate back, and to compartmentalize; half of our sentences begin with, “well, in India,” or “remember how in India?” I can’t decide if this is good or bad. I think drawing comparisons can be helpful in contextualizing perceptions, and it’s nice to share our common experiences and build on them, but what does it mean for my recollection of India if I talk about how much more I love the humidity and lushness here in comparison to the dryness and dustiness of Ahmedabad, or if I relish the paved sidewalks and convenience of non-bucket showers? I have barely been afforded the time to sift through and cement my impressions of India, and I am already forming new memories and putting them into direct competition with those of the last month. Seems kind of unfair, kind of dangerous—but also really exciting.

BUT ANYWAYS—that’s enough seriousness for now. Great news—I have the internet for GIF’s again!!!

I know!! Way less of my boring words, way more laughs and visuals.

Picking up from where my last blog left off. We left the hotel around 12 PM to get our first full Brazilian lunch. And oh my god—it was unreal.

Beef, salads, sushi (SUSHI!!!) all arranged in a beautiful buffet. The plate was weighed in order to assign a price, and we paid at the end of the meal. It was freaking amazing. We also had a quick orientation to the program and were told our homestay partners, which was v exciting. On our walk back, I embraced the humidity and heat and green of the city like I was in paradise.

#praise

I had missed plants and nature so much, and while I wasn’t really expecting it, foliage encroaches every street in Sao Paulo. I guess that could be the rainforest influence, right? But I’m not questioning it, I’m just savoring it.

me every other second

Samantha (my homestay partner) and I were picked up from the hotel with our bags by our new homestay mom. I don’t want to say I packed a lot, but this might be an accurate portrayal of my packing habits.

Woops. I just have a lot of baggage, okay?

I loved (loved) chatting with my home stay mom, Maria, on our drive to our new home. She pointed out numerous shops, pubs, and theaters along the ride, giving tips about places to go and eat. In one of those moments of what may be an unfair comparison to my Indian experience, I realized how beneficial it is to have a local with whom you can communicate about the city. I definitely felt close in a way to Shamim, my Indian host mom, but it makes me sad that I missed out on the fulfilment of experiencing Ahmedabad with someone who actually knew the place. (But I don’t think any family will ever compare to the OG [aka original] home stay fam—hollah @ the Morrises!!)

Our apartment sits at the top of a small hill, surrounded by other tall buildings and the quaint villa of Sally’s home stay family. (!!!yay!) Our host mom led us to the top floor (omg) of the 18-story building (OMG) with literally the. most. stellar view.

LOOK!!!!

WOW. WOW. I feel like an urban Rapunzel, or some romantic-tragic figure in a city-set drama.

literally how I picture myself

I’m living in a penthouse overlooking the largest city of the Southern Hemisphere. I think that the unbelievable view alone has made me reconsider my absolute refusal to ever live in a city. I sat on the windowsill for like thirty minutes, just staring out into the sunset wistfully and picturing my next *candid* Insta pic from that very spot.

Now, about my family!!! Our mom, Maria, is kind, open, honest, and very motherly. She has three kids: Luigi, a son whom we have not yet met; Lara, a daughter who is currently travelling in Australia and will return in a few weeks; and Liza, a fun, frank, and compassionate mom of a six-month old, Maria!!! The daughter is unbelievably adorable, and I’ve taken ample time to play with her and hold her and make her smile. She’s so cute and well-natured, ugh so much love. There is also another foreign exchange “host brother” in the house named Fumito; he’s a businessman from Japan with whom we’ve had some pretty cool conversations about our travels.

After an unreal dinner of chicken-rice soup (of which I had like four bowls while everyone else had one), chicken with bell peppers, avocado (yes, I cried), pumpkin, rice and beans, etc. etc…. I loved it a ton. The meal felt much more reminiscent of my meals back home, more familiar in its spices and consistency and makeup. In all honesty, I never ate Indian food in the US; it was not really my favorite kind of food. I savored the tastes while I was in India, and there’s also just something really cool and satisfying about eating a region’s food while you’re actually there, but I definitely stuff myself with Brazilian food, whereas I tentatively and delicately ate last month.

me in India

me in Brazil

After dinner, Sam and I figured it was the appropriate time to breathlessly ask for the WiFi password. WIFI AT HOME, what a concept!!! After a month of momentary stolen glances at Facebook and Snapchat, I’m reentering popular culture like,

damn Daniel? white vans? what???

I was indulging myself with the wonders of the Internet when all of a sudden, a commotion arose outside the window. Samantha, Fumito, and I looked at each other inquisitively, then opened the living room window. Numerous neighbors were hanging out of the windows, banging pots of pans, flickering their lights, shouting aggressively in Portuguese. Honks reverberated from the streets, fireworks went off from below, and the flashing of lights could be seen in buildings miles away.

We stood there for five minutes, wondering if it a soccer game had been won, or if a spontaneous protest had taken place, when all of a sudden our host sister Liza abruptly came to the window and, with a brisk “excuse me,” began banging two pot lids.

Shocked, we asked her what was happening. “Our president is speaking,” she responded primly, “we don’t like her.”

OH MY GOD. OH. MY GOD. I felt my arm hairs stand on end, I got the chills, I felt almost giddy. HOW FREAKING COOL is this method of social protest!!!!!!!??????? It felt so communal, so metaphorical and symbolic, and so peaceful a way of expressing distaste. I don’t know exactly why it so titillated my passion for politics, but something about it absolutely enthralled me. Today, we learned that it is specifically called a “Panellasou,” or a “cooking pot fest,” and it has problematic origins, but for some reason, I found myself astounded. It must have lasted for about ten full minutes, and I sat mesmerized in front of the window for its entirety. Fascinating.

My sleep was sort of interrupted by the steamy heat of our bedroom (no fan or AC) and my disruptive jet lag, so Samantha and I woke up pretty early to go for a jog.

Ahhhh, jogging. I missed you so.

FIRST, though, we ate literally my dream breakfast (sorry I keep talking about food, I’m just in love with eating). We ate bread, fresh fruit, and coffee cake with copious amounts of coffee. Like ya, okay, twist my arm. We then met our neighbor, who will hopefully reappear in future blog posts, if ya catch my drift.

We took the elevator downstairs and found that in order to exit the complex, we had to get through this legitimately impenetrable gate. We wandered to a little guard hut and asked (in English) how to get out. He looked at us kind of pathetically and shook his head.

“Espanol!!??” we asked excitedly. “Un poquito,” he said hesitantly. Samantha and I then looked at each other, waiting for the other to whip out some Spanish knowledge.

“Como…” Samantha began, and all of a sudden, this super athletic beautiful woman came up and asked, “Need some help?’

She conversed with the guard and he buzzed us out, and we thanked our first guardian angel of the day.

We decided to run for about eight minutes then just turn back the way we had come after that time. Only problem—we took a few too many twists and turns, and when my alarm signaled our halfway mark, we kind of stood there like—

Ummmm…. Woops.

We started to wander in the general direction in which we thought our apartment was, and, after about thirty minutes of strolling through delightfully artsy streets filled with quaint and stylish shops and restaurants, WE FOUND OUR STREET.

I won’t say I was worried, but like….

It was good to be back.

We got ready pretty hurriedly, because we were meeting Sally and Maria for a visit to a museum. Unfortunately, time slipped away from us, and we ended up not having time to go before class (Strike 1). BUT I did get to meet a few dogs and play fetch, so that made my day.

We ate our disappointment and scarfed down some sushi, which was legit unreal. I may have already written this, but Brazil has the second-largest Japanese population in the world, preceded only by Japan. So the sushi was pretty lit.

  

Class came next, and every single person was practically bouncing with a newfound energy. The transition to a new city had invigorated all of us, and we conversed and discussed with an unforeseen excitement and passion. We learned some introductory Portuguese, which looks enough like Spanish for me to feel moderately comfortable learning it, and also discussed the complicated and fascinating histories of race and Brazil. I enjoyed every second.

To make up for our lack of cultural stimulation that morning, our group decided to visit an alley with street art close to our homes. Unfortunately, a downpour of pelting rain cancelled our plans (Strike 2) and forced us to seek shelter in a random bus (since we weren’t quite sure which we’d taken to get to school in the morning). Luckily, we’d chosen the correct one… Unluckily, we got out on the wrong stop.

It did give us the opportunity to explore a used bookstore and a restaurant named “California,” which I obv freaked out over.

me @ California

We finally got home at 6:30 PM, just in time for another fab dinner. We then went with our host sister (and her adorable daughter!!!!) to a diner down the street for an unreal Twix pastry. Though Sally, her home stay partners, Samantha, and I had promised each other we would meet up for drinks, we all passed out before 9 PM (Strike 3).

I’m truly loving my experience here already—I feel joyful, adventurous, excited, happy. Perhaps it’s just the euphoria of a new location, but part of me feels like I’ll be visiting Brazil, and all of South America, numerous times in the future. Time to soak in all of its initial wonderfulness for the next four and a half weeks!

Hope you enjoyed my first GIF-laden post after a month of lots of words--thanks for stickin' in there!!!

Bom tarde (good afternoon!),

Aubrey

Moving In and Moving On

(From January 31)

Hi, friends.

First of all apologies for the lack of GIFs. I had so many that I planned on inputting, but the WiFi is SO unstable that I literally can't even google things. SO, hope you enjoy my super boring blog post.

After a long sleep, multiple cups of coffee, and some music therapy, I’m feeling a little bit better about everything I’ve experienced. The poverty and confusion and noise (not even just sound) of India have overwhelmed every single person on my trip. It’s a lot to digest and explain and deal with, but I’m definitely trying my hardest.

Saturday’s schedule was full of classes and guest lectures. When we saw the full load for a weekend day, we were noooot happy. But due to our day-long delay in arriving in India, we had to make up time. The lectures were interesting, and I continue to feel like the academics of the program greatly supplement the experiences I have outside of the classroom.

After class, we jumped in rickshaws to visit the Gandhi Ashram, a museum commemorating the commune-style neighborhood established by Mahatma Gandhi about a century ago. You may not know this, but Gandhi actually began his peaceful agitating for Indian independence in Ahmedabad! The rich history of the site and its somber yet vibrant atmosphere provided an opportunity for inflection and introspection.

We gathered as a group on a grassy knoll on the museum land. We took the opportunity to discuss the more “human” side of the neighborhood visits we’d undertaken. It was, to say the least, quite moving. We had all experienced really profound feelings and shared our emotions.

One of the most uncomfortable experiences, however, was the ogling by the other museum patrons. 

They were taking pictures and literally sitting in our circle in an attempt to eavesdrop on our conversation. I’ve never before been such a spectacle. At Harvard, I’ve definitely experienced similar ogling; tourists I don’t know take my picture and grab me in attempts to maneuver me into their photos without even asking. However, it’s never been this brazen or exploitative. I continuously tried to hide my face (partly because I was crying, to be honest), just attempting to maintain a semblance of privacy and sense of dignity, in a sense. We are constantly stared at, prodded, shouted to, and photographed. I think it will impossible to ever feel at home here when I am constantly reminded of my inability to fit in.

Today has been really exciting—homestay move in day! Woo!

We had to be packed and ready by 11:30 AM, so naturally Caitlin and I decided to sleep and nap until 10:45 before tackling the mess that was our room. It had literally become a pigsty over the course of five days, most likely due to the fact that Caitlin and I have already become way too close over the past three weeks and have dropped all pretenses of ladylike-ness, cleanliness, and primness.

I’m actually really going to miss Caitlin these next few weeks—our homestays are about a half hour apart, so we will likely only see each other during class and on the weekends. This study abroad program is bizarre in that it creates deep friendships and bonds in short amounts of time. We experience inexplicable moments together, isolated from family and friends; we sleep and eat and study and talk together; we literally don’t get a break from one another.

Yet, even though we experience almost the same exact things and encounter similar difficulties, every individual absorbs his or her surroundings in a completely different way. I guess it’s true that the way you interpret other individuals and phenomena reveals much more about you than it does about what you’re observing.

ANYWAYS. Sally and I moved in with our host mother, Shiman, this afternoon. Shiman is a grandmother of five who (surprise!) speaks little to no English.

Sally and I have been struggling in our attempts to communicate with her about our food and our whereabouts, etc. etc. etc. Shiman’s daughter, who lives quite close by, has been assisting in translating, thank goodness. But as I noted in my last post—affection can be expressed without the medium of language. Shiman so clearly adores and is proud of her beautiful four daughters, and it’s been fun to connect with her over that source of love that she holds.

Her apartment has no WiFi, so Sally and I have attempted to find novel ways to amuse ourselves. Sally has begun a ~fun~ video game, while I’ve taken a nap and stared at the fan.

We are literally gonna finish, like, 10 books a piece over the next eighteen days.

Sally and I explored our neighborhood a tad until the constant staring and occasional picture pushed us back inside. We’re currently waiting for what smells like a delicious dinner—we’ve heard Shiman is the best cook around—while watching a Turkish soap opera. I have a feeling “Feriha” is about to become my new “Bachelor.”

Here’s to hoping that I can keep up with Ben and his plethora of women even in a home with no WiFi—oh, and to the eventual end to my constant state of panic. In that order.

By the way, thanks for hanging in there with me. Logging into my blog and seeing that hundreds of people are reading about my experiences and are thinking of me every once in a while keeps me sane, happy, and tethered to home (all three of them—California, Boston, and Israel!).

All my love,

Aubs