I won't give up

When I look into your eyes there’s so much they hold

And just like them old stars I see that you’ve come so far

It’s been one of those chapters in my life which has left me raw. Finishing a Master’s program and diving into a soul-defining teaching job at a founding school, only to hurdle head first into a Doctorate program at ole faithful Northeastern while continuing to teach, have been both an exhilarating and crushing experience.

And when you’re needing your space to do some navigating

I’ll be here patiently waiting to see what you find

Even if you are betrothed to your learning as a student, you still have that sense of passivity, rather than productivity. It’s been a tumultuous journey trying to find the energy to achieve everything I want before the expiration on my youth rings out in the emptiness. I can feel that my life is going to drastically change and like an immobilized beachgoer I am staring at the tsunami growing deep in the ocean, swelling all of its fury. Why is it women have to biologically damned? The time to navigate the waters of life is restricted to the daring and an abundance of Life calendar appointments keeps stocking up with subject lines varying from Marriage, Job, House, and Children. I would be a mental case to complain about my life but, where is the time to go backpacking through Tibet? Am I expected to carry a newborn in the convertible I can finally afford on my own merit? Life is a double edged sword. We are unworldly in our youth and don’t take full advantage due to fear, inexperience or naivety and when we are adults we are tied down by our self-imposed task lists and responsibilities.

I don’t wanna be someone who walks away so easily

I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make

A lucky handful of people in life, work because they love what they do, and not because they have to. Being a part of a founding school, has redefined me. The amount of hats I have worn in the past two years has left me with a constant case of static cling on my otherwise well-manicured mane. It’s exciting for me, a chance to be dominating and present; especially considering my entire façade is wired to be submissive. I wish I had been broken down on the atomic level my first year of teaching, where would I be now?, if I hadn’t wasted two years, silently cutting off atrophied fragments of my teaching style towards self-betterment. But I’m worried. Will this be a repeat of my normal, give, give, give….pause…nothing is given back… silence as defeat settles in.

We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in

I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not, and who I am

Currently, I am sitting in Northeastern's student center. I was attempting to write a paper which is due for one of my graduate classes, but, honestly...I just wanted to enjoy my day off. I'm mentally exhausted and just wanted to people watch. Guess what...that's exactly what I did.

Costa Rica

I have just returned from my adventures in Costa Rica. It was definitely a fun-filled adventure which I will not forget anytime in the coming millennium. “Pura Vida”. In Spanish it means “Pure Life” and is a phrase you’ll hear and see, everywhere in Costa Rica. The locals live this expression to the fullest and their love for life is evident on their smiling faces and in their kind actions to strangers. And why wouldn’t they be constantly cheerful? You would be too if you could call one of the worlds most beautiful and exotic countries home. Costa Rica is one of Central America’s most popular destinations. Located between Nicaragua and Panama, Costa Rica has a population of approximately 3.9 million and is similar in size to West Virginia. There are only two seasons here – rainy and dry.


Day 1: Confusion here, there, everywhere.
Booked a flight which is way too early for normal travelers. Checked that off my list of things I'm not keen on doing. Security lines filled with college goers who are already yapping about the amount of tequila they need on an IV dosage every night. Check that as well. Don't understand why they made an EZ-check-in kiosk when there is still an attendant helping every passenger. Confusion. Why I pack the same amount of clothing for a 10-day vacation as I do for a weekend get away... My entire closet. I still can't understand either. Sigh. My flight took off at 7:35am which meant I was leaping around the house around 4am. Those who know me understand that I come with a warning label: not a morning person. I am a grouchy mess who prefers to brood silently glaring at her ticket until she can finally fall asleep again on the plane... And on top of that Continental is now charging $6 for passengers to watch movies. Jesus. My one happiness is gone from flying!

We landed around noon in Juan Santamaria International Airport, San José. Between trying to figure out why Costa Ricans don't have a SIM phone card system and getting our 12-seat van plus an additional AWD jeep rented I mysteriously developed a headache. Oh, I didn't mention that the 4 families (15 people) traveling together on this tropical escape decided to self-navigate and drive across Costa Rica... Shaking your head in disbelief. Yeah...that seems to be the initial reaction for most. Our first night in San José I learned exactly how difficult it was to navigate using just a map. You see there are only a few street signs in Costa Rica and even fewer addresses. Read that as almost none. Just about all addresses are in terms of a well-known building or landmark; often the local Church, cemetery, or another fixed location. But just to keep things interesting, some addresses are phrased in terms of buildings that may have burned down 20 years ago. To say the least we didn't find our restaurant that first night. We did get lucky enough to find another amazing place called Tintos and Blanco's though.

Costa Rican Side Note #1: a popular Costa Rican meal is Gallo Pinto – rice and black beans. It sounds quite simple, but is surprisingly tasty. They even eat it for breakfast. Could be the next contestants on "the biggest loser" reality show...

Costa Rican Side Note #2: Wi-Fi seems to be everywhere in this country. And it's unlocked! So I wasn't too excluded from my daily ritualistic iPhone thumb workout.

Day 2: The C's of Costa Rica: Coffee, Cards, Cash and Contacts
I had booked a tour today to keep the pressure of self navigation to a minimum. Our first stop was a town called Grecia, which was once named "the cleanest city in Latin America." It is noted for its unique church, Iglesia de la Nuestra Señora de las Mercedes, which is made entirely of pre-fabricated steel plates painted red. According to the urban legend, the original church was destroyed in an earthquake and the city wanted a church which would stand the test of time. Well 2012 isn't too far off so many they don't have to wait too long?

We then stopped at a town called Sarchí, which is Costa Rica's most famous crafts center. The town offers more than 200 stores and the world's largest Oxcart: A huge, brightly-painted "carreta" that was built in 2006 in order to get the name of the town into The Guinness Book of World Records. The plan was a success apparently, but what do you do with such a huge oxcart? Ticos are short statured people in general. Therefore, chairs, couches, etc. are built about 6-8 inches lower than furniture in the USA. The irony is comical.

Lastly we had a tour of Café Britt's coffee plantation. They were the first Costa Rican company to combine coffee with tourism. We saw their Coffee Tour, a play staged in their own coffee plantation, tracing the coffee’s production cycle. Thankfully I'm not a coffee or tea drinker so I wasn't really fazed by the smell. As the history goes... New York coffee broker Steve Aronson founded the company in 1985 to market roasted Costa Rican coffees to the domestic Costa Rican market. At the time, the country’s coffee-industry regulations required that all of the best coffee be exported, unroasted, to foreign markets. Britt earned recognition as an industry pioneer by lobbying for reforms to allow some of the best coffee to be roasted and sold locally.

Costa Rican Side Note #3: In Costa Rica, it is not uncommon to give coffee to babies (in their bottle, with milk) and to young children. I simply can not imagine a two year old on espresso.

The day was full of facts and random sightings like the middle aged man wearing a biker's helmet and holding a bike handle bar pretending to drive around. By the end of the day though I couldn't wait to take a dip in our hotel pool. When we got back I changed faster than Superman into a bathing suit and got ready for my first dive into Costa Rican waters. I apparently dove like a duck during hunting season since in my first jump I lost my contacts in the pool. Sigh. Thankfully Roshanee had an extra pair of contacts but they were the wrong prescription...X-Ray vision here I come. Later that night we played "Flash" which is the Indian 3-card poker card game. I lost $8 dollars, mom lost $40 and Rosh won $68... Sigh. Double Hmph!

Day 3 & 4: Car trouble, Volcanoes, and a mud bath
Today we packed up shop and packed into the two cars and started our drive to Arenal, home to Costa Rica’s most active volcano, located about 140 kilometers north of San Jose, near the tiny farming community of La Fortuna. Even if geology was not your favorite subject in school, there’s nothing quite like the sights and sounds of an active volcano.

Along our journey to Arenal, we stopped at this remote mountaintop café to stretch our legs and calm our nauseated stomach's from the windy, foggy roads they had to endure all morning. When we packed back into the van and the jeep, the jeep wouldn't start.

Diagnosis- Dying battery.
Prognosis- Find a willing "Tico" to give us a jump start in our limited Spanish.
Survival Rate- We managed to get a jump from a turismo bus.

Can you imagine after hundreds of years of dormancy your neighborhood volcano springing into sudden movement? Arenal erupted in July of 1968. Now Arenal sits close to cloud forests, which means that it, too, is often shrouded by clouds and rain. Gastronomical bummer since this obscures the view of the volcano during the day, and our hotel was right at the base of the volcano, but the best time to view the volcano is at night when it is easier to see the red hot lava streaming down its sides. The clouds couldn’t completely obscure the sparks of red and orange spewing from the volcano into the night air. But perhaps more enthralling were the grumbles and groans that the volcano periodically produced. While hiking in the forest near the base of the mountain I experienced this volcanic groaning while searching the treetops for spider and howler monkeys on the hiking tour of Arenal National Park. The monkeys were more interested in urinating and defecating on fellow members of my group. It's considered good luck, no?

After experiencing a car ride equivalent to water torture used by army officials, I figured I better book something to relieve the adults and children of their pent up hostility. I decided upon Tabacon Hot Springs which is a spa that sits near the base of Arenal. Its thermo mineral pools are heated by the volcano in natural rock pools and waterfalls. Although some might find it difficult to completely relax while sitting at the foot of an active volcano, the warm waters were heavenly.

After a night of relaxing in the hot springs spa, and the next morning spent hiking. I decided why not pick this monsoon-like day for ATV (all terrain vehicle) mischief for the children and few adventurous fathers and mothers. It was a 2 hour adrenaline filled riding session which concluded with me finding wet mud in my hair, shoes and appendages. Not to mention, a butt which needed to be flexed for 25 minutes afterwards to regain blood flow.

Costa Rican Side Note #4: The word for HOT, in Spanish, is caliente. Caliente begins with a "C". Water faucets imported from the USA almost all have a "C" on them. If your Hot Water never seems to get HOT in Costa Rica, try the handle with the "C". I had an amusing shower my first day here. My skin is still sensitive from my mud cleansing session.

Costa Rican Side Note #5: In many countries, pedestrians have the right of way. In Costa Rica, the Spanish word for pedestrian is "Target". Oh the fun I had while driving from Arenal to Monteverde.

Costa Rican Side Note #6: Front doors of almost all commercial establishments almost always open INWARDS. This is against every fire code in the USA, but here, perhaps because they have never had a tragedy in which hundreds died because the door could not be opened outwards, there is no such code. As we Americans have become "programmed" to do the opposite I am still nursing a wound on my forehead and ice cream stains on my shirt.

Day 5: Peek-a-boo I want to pinch you
Our stay in Arenal though short was memorable. We again got into our Scooby Doo van and accompanying jeep and started our drive to Monteverde. These roads were not only curving and winding all over the geological terrain but they were also unpaved and rocky! Sigh. I am sure my jaw which had been dislocated and out of its Feng shui locale these past few months popped back into place with all the rattling and movement.

We stopped to stretch and snack en-route but when we re-started our journey the van wouldn't start. Karma? The van was manual so the fathers said it just needed a running push start. Whatever that meant in mechanical terms I have no clue. I figured okay i'll be optimistic but what about the fact that it was parked on a slope loaded with 15 suitcases. A few scraped and bleeding body parts later with a dose of extreme pushing we had a working van. On we went following the broken unpaved road...

Monteverde (Green Mountain) Cloud Forest: This mountaintop phenomenon provides a rare glimpse into one of the world’s most threatened ecosystems. I’d never even heard of a cloud forest until I landed in Costa Rico.

We were bunked at a hotel spin-off between a log cabin and a bed and breakfast situated on a 30 degree inclined slope. My thighs are still cursing me. We only had one night in Monteverde but that evening was enough for a lifetime. We arrived and went straight to Selvatura, a zip lining reptilian, canopy bridge orgy. And with the limited time we had we decided to see the reptiles first, which translated into a lot of snakes, frogs and lizards. Then a forest canopy bridge was decided upon. It was beautiful to view the forest from a bird’s viewpoint. But when I trekked into the hotel that night...my body was in severe denial that such bodily maltreatment was possible. I awoke from a restful slumber a few hours later to find my parents and siblings back from dinner and getting ready for bed. I shuffled along looking for my pajama's as well. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something scurry across the wooden floors towards my mother’s foot. I turned to find myself staring at an angry looking scorpion. I screamed at the top of my lungs which if the situation had been a casting call would have landed me a part in the Nightmare on Elm street Sequels. My mother jumped while running and of course grabbed my sister's designer shoe and stomped the life out of our cabin visitor. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much after that with the crumpled remains of the scorpion next to my bed.

Day 6 & 7: Sunburns, Subway & Swimming in riptides
Should I even utter the words? Fine I shall...once again we got into our Mystery machine and drove. Leaving the remains of our menacing friend behind in mountainous Monteverde we started towards Manuel Antonio. The beach. A visit to any tropical country is not really complete without at least one trip to the beach. During our drive to Manuel Antonio we thankfully had no further car troubles, even when we stopped to eat Subway. To get to Manuel Antonio you pass through Quepos, the base for visiting the beach, which has admittedly become overrun with hotels and restaurants which now stretch all the way down the 7 kilometer road leading to the beach.

Science fact: A cloud forest is created when warm, damp air coming off the nearby ocean is forced upward by the slopes of the mountain. As the moist air rises, it cools and forms clouds. Now in Monteverde the mountaintop is enveloped in dense clouds on a daily basis and the resulting moisture gives rise to a unique combination of life forms. The one drawback, ironically, of a cloud forest is the clouds. Often they blanket the entire forest, making any of its wildlife hard to spot. Hmph!

Costa Rican Side Note #7: Milk, eggs, and many other items that you have been trained all your life to refrigerate, are available off the shelf (un-refrigerated) at almost every super market. Nothing looked spoiled and no one was screaming about diarrhea. Amusing.

I spent the days just lying on the sandy beach which makes basking in the sun a pleasure in the crescent shaped beach bordered by the rainforest and rocky islands offshore where the tide catches and creates slippery pools of the Pacific’s blue water. They don't kid when they warn you of the strong ocean currents. I literally swam for 15 minutes and didn't progress any closer to shore as a wave crashed over my head and pulled me further out. I am still alive but my time basking in the sun and swimming resulted in a thoroughly sun-burned 25-yr old who can't wiggle her sunburned nose.

Adios CR:
My flight returning was at 6am which meant I had to figure out how to get from Manuel Antonio to San José since I was leaving before my family. Let’s just keep the story at limited amounts of sleep, car rental drop off contracts with random security guards and missing items that Nanki kept on finding.

Costa Rican Side Note #8: Ants are everywhere here, and they outnumber us about a zillion to one. I really only had one choice as I saw it - The tiny ones are flavorless, and probably added a tiny bit of protein to my diet. And the bigger ones add more zest and crunch.

Costa Rican Side Note #9: At 7 AM every morning, most Costa Rica radio stations broadcast the exact same program. It begins with the Costa Rican National Anthem and provides the government and other authorized entities a way to send messages or information nation wide. I died looking for some Micheal Bublé on the radio... Sigh. I think I can actually sing the first few verses of the national anthem.

"tink, tink, tink...

Ribbit.. Ribbit.. Senor Frogs

Or "can-ken" as my evil coworkers call it...
Or the gringo hotspot of sexy Mexixo.

Let me ask why do people book flights in the morning? In the process of packing for your trip, you are awake all night and then are exhausted when you reach the destination? Quite the irony.

Reminder to self: book evening flights in the future...or sedate dad with powerful tranquilizers and re-book flights. In my half sleeping state I forget to grab my phone and camera battery....basically I lugged my camera to the airport only to have no battery inside (hmm...that was useless) and I had forgotten my iphone but that thankfully Rosh had picked up. Sigh of relief. At least emailing was still within reach.

The flight over to Cancun was a scary experience. After only 45 min of shut-eye the forthnight before, my flight contributing to my personality equalizing that of Cruella de Vil, I had to pray to not arrive in a body bag. The wild winds which had overtaken our plane had convinced me that I, like Amelie Earhart, was going to never be found again. You have to love the weather in the northeast. Sigh...

Our hotel is trés bien... That is French I think...so let's correct that. You would say "mucho bueno" in Spanish. It's an all inclusive resort so we can basically binge drink and eat until obesity sets in... Like pork roasts we slowly rotate every half hour until well done on the beach.

Our first day... We stumbled off the plane trying to shove our brains back into the correct cavity after it had been shaken around from our amazingly smooth plane ride. Then we hopped onto our shuttle to our hotel: The Grand Oasis Playa. It's a tropical paradise ensnared with ivy vines that twist along the veranda creating a mystical setting. Scattergories was grabbed from the packed luggage and the first of many competitive boardgame matches was started with the ocean waves crashing in the background. Drinks... Food.. More drinks and then more food was consumed until sitting and digesting was the only option. An early bedtime was the only thing on my mind so I grabbed the Kindle with my new Sherlock Holmes book already downloaded and surrendered to my exhaustion.

Day 2:
My phone was ringing... Attempting to grab it I fell out of bed. I realized my alarm had been going off. Reminder to self: turn phone off unless I'm drafting an email[s]. Mom, Nishan, and I meet for breakfast, while the others played golf. The three of us felt quite brave and decided to hop onto a local bus and go to the other hotel included in our package...besides riding the bus all over town to get back, since my Spanish is more or less non-existent, we had an uneventful day tanning and relaxing.

Day 3:
Ziplining, ATV driving, underground cavern rafting and swimming was on the menu for this Thursday. We had bought tickets for a new park which had opened up called Explor (no I didn't spell it wrong). Built in the jungles and dense forests surrounding Excaret and Cozumel, our outdoor recreational wonderland awaited our arrival. Since it had alot of underground caverns and activities which involved some rigor we were subjected to wearing orange helmets on our heads all day. How I escaped a tan across my forehead is besides me. I did receive a painful bruise across my groin area from the ziplining harness, which I wore for the 1.8 mile ziplining trail. Hmph! It almost equaled the pain you feel when you ride a bicycle for an extended period of time, after many months of dormancy. I was also eaten alive by the swarms of flying insects. I received no tan lines but my legs and arms look as if I recently recovered from chicken pox and I also my gait has been altered.

Day 4:
Today was my adventure in the open ocean with my brother and sister. Nishan had killed us insisting that he wanted to go scuba diving again. We had initially tried it in the Dominacan Republic. Considering this was over a year ago, the three of us had to repeat the classes before being allowed to dive since the risks were high. Hmph! Another opportunity to sleep until afternoon was lost. Sigh. After swimming around with all of our scuba gear in the swimming pool our lesson commenced with a True/False quiz. I throughly enjoyed popping up and scaring unsuspecting swimmers in the pool looking like a swamp alien with my whole getup. Once the lesson was over the three of us boarded a boat which would take us out to the reefs... Only problem was that we boarded the boat and a storm hit. We tousled around like ragdolls on a boat with a captain who didn't care that out of the 18 passengers 10 were projectile vomiting overboard. Once at out specified location in the middle of the angry sea with 10 foot waves, we began our dance to get into our scuba gear. One fin on a foot and then we hoped to the left and fell over. We then got up and put on the other fin and hopped to the right and hit somebody. This was repeated numerous times adding different crash landings and spins each time. Did I mention that I don't do very well on a rocking boat? Being in the water breathing out of a oxygen tank didn't help much after my stomach contents were recently in my mouth...but overall the one hour dive went well. I got some cool pics with the water camera I purchased before boarding the boat. The problem came when we hopped back on the boat. Again I felt like a rag doll except this time I was a soaking wet rag doll. My brain and ears had yet to stablize since that diving adventure. If I shake my head too fast I still feel sick to my stomach...
Day 5:
Chicken pizza! My dad yelling on the bus to our destination. Groaning I corrected him for the billionith time, "...it's Chichen Itza, Dad." We were on a tour to see one of the new 7 wonders of the world. Newly added not because it was beautiful to look at but because it was astronomically built quite brillantly. It correctly pointed to magnetic north, showed the equinoxes, was accoustically positioned, and even had one of the first fields of sport built on it's premises.

Our tour guide Norma was a very knowledgable women who didn't hesitate to impart her passion upon us individuals who were literally a blank slate to Mexican culture.

It's nice to be back in the US though...

Is that a Turkey...A Duck... or a Chicken!

Should I start by giving my thanks to the Pilgrims who started this edible tradition of Thanksgiving in 1621. With modern life moving faster than ever, Thanksgiving gives us a day to take a collective breathe and reconnect with loved one and reminds us how much to be thankful for...

Hmm.. okay back to reality...What a train wreck November has been for me. Between being mentally mauled and sodomized by my supervisor and then having a similiar encounter with life over the weekend...

My troubles began on Tuesday, I should have realized adding color into my wardrobe would be my downfall. I got observed by my supervisor.  Seems that the students had written it on their calendar's since every student and their extended cousin, whom I had not seen in eons, decided to show up and  ruffle their plumage to demonstrate how defiant they were to authority. Great! What happended to my angels?After surviving those 53 minutes without calling for a transportable oxygen tank to assist me throughout the rest of the day, I got called into a PPT on a student, last minute. A PPT is basically a "check-up for our Special Education students." The student had come with a lawyer. The same lawyer who had just finished writing a piece in the local paper defaming our school. Great. Usually teachers play a very passive role in these meetings but I was hurled into the forefront of battle. Where was Asland when you needed him?

The next day my boss wanted to see me. Sigh. Bang head against wall until numb. I came out unscathed for the most part but my ego was very badly bruised. Like I said earlier, I was subjected to bestiality.
I understand why he acted the way he did now, because he is under pressure from the recent educational reforms, which have been  shaking up Washington, D.C.  The emphasis on “teaching to the test” erodes the importance of subjects and has undercut a broader education in exchange for a focus on rote problem solving and correct sentence structure. We need broad-based reform that focuses on student motivation and improving the conditions that lead to low achievement.

Onto Thanksgiving news: At work this week, a fellow co-worker of mine was discussing Turducken. Besides the fact that I thought they were senile, I was intrigued by this grotesque over-consumption of meat. Apparently the European origins of the turducken: a chicken inside a duck, inside a turkey, with dressings has found solace in southern American tradition. It's said to weigh 16lbs once it's fully "prepped."

Thank goodness for half-days at school. That's why I love teaching, because of the holidays and summer breaks that we get. Since returning from India, my classroom is finally back to the level of efficiency it was running at before I left my students. I definitely lost valuable teaching time, but I gained my sanity back with the break abroad.

Darkness is only measurable by the lack of Light

Every day.. there will be a new challenge... Can you succeed? Will you let them push you down? Prove it to yourself.

It's ironic that the speech I give my students; most of whom are growing up in an impoverished, gang infested war zone is identical to the one I recite to myself every morning. I don't consider myself weak, far from it actually. But I am human.. and to err is human.. and to crumble is also inevitably human as well.

It's just been one of those days/weeks/months/school year... I'm depleted. I miss the simple things which used to make me smile. Those who know me...probably define me as quite the sarcastic, mumbling...psychopath. Maybe acting is a better choice of career rather than medicine.. unless I am going into pyschiatry. 

Perhaps I'm just in self pity

Or overly absorbed

With my current situation

Nevertheless I feel the irritation

The continual stress and frustration

Not to mention the perpetual accusation

I have no energy to defend myself

Emotionally I am utterly exhausted

No time to be drained

Give me strength

In the midst of intimidation

When I need to be bold

Remove all hesitation

Maybe I'm just airing out

My loneliness

Or perhaps self-actualizing

Nevertheless myself I'm not despising

Nor others who get me down

Ask of me more than can be found

For I too live in flesh and blood

And have my limitations

Just throw a Glass at them...

Day 3: Mumbai/Bombay

I have pulled a muscle in my neck. It must have been how I was sleeping since I was fine yesterday. Ugh, it hurts. Not to mention I look like an idiot when I have to look left since I have to turn my whole body.

Romeo and Juliet, Marc Antony and Cleopatra, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett - all great lovers...
Layla and Majnun, Heer Ranjha, Mumtaz and Shah Jahan - Why is that in Indian love stories, the girl's name comes first? It's odd no?

As it turns out in the last 50 years, India's automobile population has grown 170 times while the road infrastructure has expanded only 9 times. The main roads are narrow and in poor conditions. They are used for sleeping, walking and somewhere down the lane serve as "Temporary Shops". Vendors often encroach upon streets and block sidewalks, restricting traffic. The pedestrian's right of way at road crossings is something of a dream, making "Jay Walking" a common phenomenon.

In my opinion...one has to be a jackrabbit to find their way through the maze of the traffic. Yet, officials boost about the Indian driving skills stating that "Considering, the conditions in which we drive, our drivers are not killing that many people". Heavy traffic, a norm in India, includes overloaded trucks and buses, scooters, pedestrians, bullocks and camel carts, horse or elephant riders and free-roaming live-stocks.

Rules Of Indian Roads

Here in India, everybody make their own rules and not misses them. There are no traffic rules of the kind those are found here: Signals: used for littering and Speed limits: No body cares for them.

1. Rule of Mortality
   "If you are afraid of Death, Better stay at Home."
   
2. Rule to Give Way
   "Give way to animals, beggars, double parked heavy trucks, buses and cars. Don't hit them, just flow around them. Amongst the motorists, he who is the loudest has the right-to-way. On road, traffic entering a road from the left has priority. So has traffic from the right, and also traffic in the middle."
   
3. Indian Driver Mantra
   ""To slow is to falter, to brake is to fail, to stop is defeat". In observance of this rule three things are required of every licensed driver:"Good Horn", "Good Brakes" and "Good Luck". Most drivers don't drive; they just aim their vehicle in the intended direction."
   
4. Rule of Horn
   "He who is the loudest wins. Use of a horn is mandatory, if you wish to pass anything, honk horn. If you don't have a horn, shout."
   
5. Rule for Accidents
   "Never stop for an accident, "That's karma," or in the case of a big collision, "That's truckma". Truck drivers of India are licensed to kill."
   
6. Rules of Speed
   "Speed limit is palpably ignored. Signs are ineffectual and traffic will move at the fastest speed possible."
   
7. Rules of Roundabouts
   "India recognizes no roundabouts."
   
8. Rules for Overtaking
   "Every moving vehicle is required to overtake every other moving vehicle, irrespective of whether it has just overtaken you or whether you are in a rush or not. Indian drivers overtake amazingly, especially where there absolutely no sensible opportunity exists."

 Also, I find it very odd how the cars here in India have bumper stickers that say "Horn Please" 

Newton's Law of Gravity...

Day 2: Mumbai/Bombay

Hmm, what a day today has been. I was stranded in an elevator. Apparently the weight limit on the elevator had been exceeded with four people in the elevator. Of course the obvious occurred. The elevator started going up and then it slowed down and it then puttered itself to death. We got stuck between two floors and we had to break the door down... Literally. It was amusing... We tried to hit the switch to open the folding gate door so we could maybe climb out but it was to no avail. Finally, the "elevator repairman" arrived and hit this spot next to door with a wooden stick and magic! Only in a creaky elevator in India, where the outside humidity and temperature is 300F, do I manage to get stuck in an elevator for 25 minutes.

I did manage to get some grading in though...(no not in the elevator!) but I soon found that it's impossible to attempt this tedious task of checking Unit 1 assessments when all you want to do is jump in a pool and frolic about.

But guess what I did after grading....
I said guess!!!!
Yes, I'm still waiting for you to form a thought about what I did. Hmph!

Ok you win, I'll tell you...I found a gym and jumped into the pool! But for some miserable reason, properly hygienic reasons, I assume, the lifeguard on duty made me wear a swimming cap. I tried to evade him at first by just running and jumping into the pool... But the lifeguard called me over and kindly asked me to stop trapezing in the pool area.  It was a pink elastic-like thingy. I have never worn such a contraption on my head and it looked like I was wearing a pink condom. Blah. Buzz kill.

In addition to that, I decided to try my hand at bargaining while getting some vegetables...Sad to say I got overcharged for my chicu's. It's a fruit that I freaking love! But that's the Indian name for it sorry, in the US it is called Sapodilla and its native to southern Mexico, Central Ameica, and the West Indies. Yet, it is grown in huge quantities in India, and Mexico. Moving past the history lesson, I went to the man selling the fruit and asked for 5 chicu's. He picked up 5 after fondling each one for a bit and then said 20 rupees Madam. There was another farangi women standing next to me, who was bargaining herself and seemed to know the local method of things and so I asked her... if he was giving me a good price. She then turned to the Man and said give her 6 for 20..I was happy that I had gotten such a steal for such a great price... well that was until I got home and the maid told me that she gets 10 for 20 rupees... Hmph! I wont be attempting my bargaining skills again anytime soon. 

Airplanes are so "ray-tard-day"

I don't know whether packing at 4am the day of my flight, was the level of efficency I was striving for when I intially figured out my schedule, but I'm pretty certain that I haven't forgotten anything... Yet to find out though. But I somehow managed to pack 6 pairs of shoes and I'm certain my Indian clothes alone weigh 35 lbs. Eek!

Work was pretty much jammed packed with last minute things that had to get submitted to TFA and to my principal before I flew, making sure that proper sub work was prepared, kid-proofing my room for my mini-vacay, and making sure all the pets were in proper hands. Not to mention teaching as well... (on a side note... I love teaching biology)

Even Snapple, Bubbles, Kermit, and Rene (respectively my turtle, goldfish, and 2 frogs) are happily basking in an environment of serenity without my rambunctious students...

Bombay/Mumbai, India:

The flight was great...which only seems to be the natural response when my airplane chair reclined into a bed and the food served was a 5-course meal with an ice cream sundae for dessert. I love airplane rides, since its a great time to catch up on my movies. I saw three Indian movies, and being the hopeless romantic that I am.. I cried through each one. The poor air hostess was concerned by the third movie tear fest about my mental stability. Did you know that the number of beers boarded annually onto Continental airplanes are 1,475,520.

How is it people don't know that they have assigned seating on an airplane? Maybe its just Indians? At Newark, there was a mob to get on the plane.. so much for the color coded Zoning on your boarding pass to create calm and orderly boarding. Then on the plane, an Indian family just dropped their stuff in first class and made themselves at home... when in  actuality their seats were in row 35....Maybe it was their first time on an airplane? None the less amusing human behaviors.

I haven't been to India in over 2 years, yet the changes they have made is noticable. With new bridges spanning acoss the ocean linking different corners of the city, to the extensive makeover of Bombay International airport the approach of a new dawn is evident on India's horizon. Yet, you still find oddities that will marvel you in every corner. For instance the 4-door sedan with a rope tied to another mid-sized car on the highway. Apparently this method of towing is normal. Or the fact that food vendors are busiest around 12-4am, while living in the US you are considered lucky if you find a grocery store opened 24hrs.

This picture was hilarious. On the very top of the picture it says lose 10kg and 20 inches in 22 hours... sounds amazing no?

Its literally 95 degrees Farenheit here. HOT and HUMID... this is not a good combination for a girl who wears makeup. Luckily I packed for summer. Be ready for a tanned freak when I return. Sigh.

Okie dokie I have to go now.. I have to take a shower, so that means I have to turn on the water heater. Maybe I'll take a cold shower. It might be nicer anywho.

PS - why don't they like using toilet paper here... thankfully Alifiya packed some... Sigh of relief..

Stolen Graces...

Well today has been a day of numerous changes. My teaching cohort has decided to go in favor of a new schedule which will give us teachers some free time during the day.. Hmm.. can this be so...? We are changing course from our jail-like existence. Nervous giggle. Gasp. Faint.

Besides the constant flurry of students who were confused and frustrated whilst waving their schedules frantically in my face grunting for help...somehow under the misunderstanding that I could read writing going in a pendulum-like movement. My day thus far has gone well.

Today I came upon quite the predicament. Since I work in an environment where if I leave something unattended it eventually goes missing, I have learned to be vigilant over the things I hold dear to my heart. Its either that or I bribe my dearest custodians to give me cabinets and a desk that locks. Considering I am naive and quite trustworthy I just throw my purse and other belongings into my desk, which has a central lock locking all the drawers. I then leave the rest of my artifacts in God's hands.

Now I have this one student in particular who is a known kleptomaniac. I have been understanding and I have been patient with his so called "obsession." Today in my Period 3 class he asked if he could sit at my desk and work. I usually allow students I trust to sit there, but the problem arises when a kid I know has trouble literally tattooed all over his body asking to sit at my desk. I of course being me said, "No problem!" insert fake enthusiasm  Considering the keys to my desk are around my neck and I could keep an eye on him I didn't think he could do that much damage... I should have bitten my tongue when I made such a ridiculous remark. But after 53 minutes of observing, I noticed he was trying to "jimmy" my central desk lock with a scissor. He was quite talented and if I had inhaled any more lead paint during infancy I would have missed it all together.

At the moment it's Period 5 and he's back in my class asking for permission to sit at my desk. I can't say NO, you are trying to break into my desk, since that would be ANTI-everything I learned in TFA. So the best I (a college graduate, mind you) could come up with was to just sit at my desk during my free period and pretend like I was doing work.
 I am too nice to say anything and too embarrassed to move all my belongings to another locker from my desk… since he is sitting right next to me.

Sigh, what I need to do is "Put my foot down"...as someone close to me would say... and stop being a pushover.

Teaching...

1st day of the school year: August 28th, 2009

This was the statement which was racing through my mind after the first day of school. "What the fuck did I get myself into this year!" Then after literally hyperventilating for a few minutes I broke down in tears.... After calming down, I packed up my things and drove home, hoping Day 2 would be much better...

I figured after my first year of teaching where upon I did not break down even once... my second year would be a breeze. Little did I know that my patient, all-loving demeanor with my students would actually come back to wreck havoc on my life as I know it. My principal decided to change me from teaching 9th and 10th grade in the Main building to our outside "2nd Chance Academy"...because I had such good rapport with my students. Who better than me to teach the students which no veteran teacher wanted in their classrooms...

I no longer see any of my friends anymore.
I'm isolated, and alone outside.
The best part is that No one cares...

Actually me bitching on and on about the students would be a dishonor to them.. because even though they are in this Academy due to their severe behavioral and emotional issues, because they just got released from Juvenile detention, or simply because they enjoyed skipping classes and roaming the hallways...they all are students. My students. My lost souls....

I sent home a Parent Survey....

What makes me hate my job... isn't the students. It's the people I either work with or work for. They should make force every supervisor and administrator including the Superintendent of Schools to teach a class at least once a day so that some form of reality enters their waking hours. Because at the moment they are delusional hallucinating zombies wandering our hallways dictating their laws.

Because of the lack of support we teachers receive in our classrooms, emotionally disturbed youngsters receive minimal care and the usual bureaucratic run-around―usually resulting in their being thrown back into the classroom to create havoc for the total learning situation.

For the time being...
I ignore.
I think ignoring is my new favorite weapon.
I ignore, and eventually they calm down.
Big deep breaths.
Everyday.
It is what keeps me sane.

Perpetual Utterances...

I have a basic rule for home décor. There shall be no unnecessary cuteness — no smiley-face mugs, no monkey banana holders, no squiggly shaped mirrors.

My current classroom makes me want to hiss, recoil and then burst into flames like a vampire in daylight. The whimsy factor here is off the hook. The walls are acid green and every imaginable accessory, gadget and minor home-decorating element has been turned into an animal, insect or happy-faced human, all rendered in a Skittles-bright rainbow of artificial color.

If you were to secretly dose the celebrated Japanese artist Takashi Murakami with LSD, spin him around in a swivel chair, bounce him on a trampoline, then repeatedly hit him over the head with a piñata, the interior of my classroom would be his hallucination.

Thankfully, we are allowed to redecorate. I am repainting everything black. Hmm... inner peace finally.

The life as a Juror...

My duty as a MA citizen.
Grimace.

Trial by a jury is considered to be sacred, it is incorporated into our society so we all can serve (happily of course). Trial without prejudice from an impartial group of people apparently equals justice for all.

The One day/one trial system consists of the notion that every three years citizens are asked to serve for only one day. Unless the case is more complex and therefore it goes on longer. Massachusetts is the first state to adopt this system.

How long do I have to be here? Just one day...unless you are the unlucky son of a bitch who gets OJ's brother on trial.

New word I learned today...Impanelment- the procedure of picking jury. Why does this word sound and look so much like imprisonment? Creepy no?

The silence of this 15ft x 30ft pastel pink room is astounding. How is it 35 strangers can sit in a room next to each other and not even utter a word to each other. Is it the social norm to be distant and uniformly passive? Just as it is customary to stare ahead at the shiny elevator door and not at the person standing next to you. What a societal oddity... Sorry I meant norm.

Utterly mind numbing activities....
The 20-something girl next to me can't stop tapping her foot. She has an innocent smile but her jitters imply she is mentally confused about why she has to be here. Poor creature of God...she has done 20 laps thus far in this small room. I think I smell smoke from the friction building up between her feet and the carpet.

The elderly man on my left who can't even open his eyes, either due to sleep or other hereditary genetic reasons, is mumbling to himself. Should I be concerned? I can only move away in mere inches when I think he's blinking. But I can't tell! Ahhh.

I think the woman's hair in front of me is coming undone. Think she would mind if I took out my handy dandy stapler from my purse and stapled that persistent strand to her forehead? I can stop the bleeding if she'd worried about that. Cowards.

I guess I would be the perfect addition to this tea party of normalcy. I look like the leader of the Trenchcoat Mafia dressed all in black, smiling to myself as I write frantically on my iPhone. I'm glad I lugged my laptop without the power cord, and got Ctrl + Atl + fucked over.

What a day so far...My morning has been plagued with torrential downpours, and a cab driver who took me for a $27.00 spin around MA.

Let's see if this servitude goes any deeper into the realms of hell.

Ciao...

Why did I ever let you hold me?

For those of you that don't know, I teach 9th/10th grade Science.

Well, one day one of my students came up to me and asked me to proofread a poem he had been working on. I couldn't resist.

After I finished reading his work... I was in awe. He wrote quite well for his age. Sparked by the innovative curiosity his work had ignited in myself I sat and penned my very first poem.

"Why Did I Ever Let You Hold Me?"

At the time it didn't mean a thing...
When did my tears start drowning me.
I didn't even realize I had strayed from love...
This time it was different though.

I had never allowed myself to get hurt.
I never leave myself open to love.
When did I end up the victim?
How did I get into this condition..

Dear God,
How did I end up here with you.
When did I let it get so personal.
I'm too proud to let anyone save me.

But I can't get rid of this condition.
I don't have experience being on the other side.
My mind is gone... numb in grief.
How did I get here with you?

~*[Khush]*~

Behind her happy façade, a tear steals away…

I have exerted so much of myself to this job, and to my students,

That I don’t have anything left for myself.

I am exhausted.
I am burned from deep within my core.

I sit and take the abuse all day.
I watch as my desk gets taken over, and as they fight over my computer to see who can blast the music louder.
I observe as my students cut and draw on my signs and packets, which I spent sleepless nights on planning.
I tidy up the mess all over my floor from their crumbs, wrinkled paper balls, and broken pencils.
I deal with the fact that I can literally stand in their faces, while lecturing, and that they will continue to ignore me, while talking on their cell phones or to their friends.
I quietly watch as they chase each other around my room, while slipping and sliding.

I take all the childish behaviors with a grain of salt, because when my day is over...I can breathe a sigh of relief that I survived.

Hoping I was able to be that “someone” who is a constant in their ever-changing lives.

When the final bell rings...
I feel like a bird, captive in a cage, that hasn't spread her wings all day.
I am now able to converse without restraint,
To cry without hesitation,
To dance without fear,
Free to just be me.

But I am bombarded by the same juvenile antics, even after work.

Only difference is this time,
I don't have any patience left.
My sanity has disintegrated.
I’m bare.

Go ahead… exploit me.
I’m all yours…

What is Teach for America? The Mother Theresa of U.S. Preppie Do-Gooders

My closest friends and I will begin our senior year. We will enter a year-long panic about our futures. We'll consider all the usual options. Wannabe lawyers will weigh medium-term futures as law students in Palo Alto or paralegals at Boies, Schiller & Flexner. Anthro and science majors alike will browse the full-page, color ads in the college paper from research and pharmacuetical companies like GE and Pfizer. And then, of course, there's Teach for America.

In "The Organization Kid," a 2001 Atlantic Monthly article about Princeton undergrads, David Brooks admired the work ethic of elite overachievers. But he lamented their lack of purpose beyond finding "new tests to ace, new clubs to be president of, new services to perform." Brooks had a point. As The Washington Monthly reported in 2002, the nation's best schools do a lousy job when it comes to directing their students towards community or military service. Too often, top students fall into high-status holding patterns--two years on Wall Street that'll fill in time and resume space before applying to grad school. Short of a draft, how do you get the best and the brightest to serve their country?

Wendy Kopp, Teach for America's founder, seems to have figured out the answer. TFA enlists college graduates to spend two years teaching in low-income, low-performing schools for about $40,000 a year. Its stated mission is to "eliminate educational inequity by enlisting our nation's most promising future leaders in the effort." Like McKinsey in the 1990s, TFA has become a premium destination for elite students. Since 2000, its enrollment has tripled and its applicant pool has more than quadrupled. This year, 2,400 "corps members" will fan out into struggling schools across America. They'll be propelled not just by the program's earnest aims, but because TFA satisfies one of the Organization Kid's most primal needs: prestige. Kopp has harnessed the culture of status-seeking to a greater purpose and turned national service into a resume-builder.

Kopp proposed the program in her 1989 Princeton senior thesis. At the time, according to her 2001 memoir, she was half-heartedly pursuing a job at Morgan Stanley. Her friends were headed to Wall Street because "they just couldn't think of anything else to do." So Kopp, who had managed a $1.5 million student group that organized conferences with corporate leaders, wrote to the CEOs of 30 major companies seeking money for her "movement." But money alone doesn't buy status. Kopp knew the only way to attract elite students was to "counteract teaching's image as a 'soft' and downwardly mobile career." "[O]ur goal was to appear selective," she wrote. In 1996, six years after the program launched, she told The New York Times: "I'd like people to someday talk about TFA the way they talk about the Rhodes Scholarship."

Teach for America recruits like a white-shoe investment bank. At schools across the country, it pays two or three "campus campaign managers"--seniors who hype TFA to their peers and scout for promising student leaders. The program also buys slick ads in campus newspapers. Perhaps because TFA rejects 80 percent of applicants (this year, there were a record 19,000), the survivors resemble prototypical overachievers. Their average SAT score is more than 1300; 95 percent have held campus leadership roles. Top feeders include Amherst, Columbia, Dartmouth, and Duke; in 2005, 10.4 percent of Yale seniors applied.

There are disadvantages to running a teaching corps like a two-year analyst program at McKinsey. In 2005, The Teacher Policy Research project found that, in New York City, teachers truly hit their stride after three years. Unfortunately, only 28 percent of TFA teachers stay that long (a lower percentage than other teachers, even after adjusting for school quality). Nevertheless, overall, TFA teachers perform as well as their non-corps counterparts in most areas and beat them in others (predictably, they always ace the certification test). In 2000, 92 percent of principals who had hired TFA students said that they'd welcome them back.

But TFA remains the Harvard of national service. (Corps members I met talked about New York Teaching Fellows as a "great program!" in the same way Ivy Leaguers describe the University of Maryland as a "great school!") Like any true elite institution, TFA's prestige has become self-sustaining. Its alumni network attracts more members, and its reputation opens more doors. Top grad schools, like Yale's School of Management, waive the application fee for TFA alums, while blue chip banks like Goldman Sachs recruit teachers at the end of their two-year stints. One alum told me that he was drawn to the program for "its networks inside and outside education."

Kopp, perhaps the ultimate Organization Kid, has devised a win-win-win situation. The prevailing problem in American schools isn't a shortage of teachers, but a shortage of teachers in poor communities. TFA's genius is that kids in understaffed schools benefit from their TFA instructors, while the mostly middle-class corps of teachers help kids whose backgrounds are very different from their own. Even if corps members only stay for two years on their way to law school, they've rendered a far more useful service to the nation than running spreadsheets for Bank of America. And as any savvy student will tell you, Teach for America looks fantastic on your resume.

Cool Things I had no Clue about...how sad!

First and foremost.. since I forgot to say this in my last update... Happy New Year, its 2009 and we have yet to have an apocalypse. That is definitely something to smile about. giggle

How to Sew a button:
A cool link on how to sew a button...yes I have no idea and probably have more chances of sewing my finger to the shirt than the button but still.... excellent website. http://www.wikihow.com/Sew-a-Button


Quick Facts about Google:

Package Tracking

You can track packages by typing the tracking number for your UPS, Fedex or USPS package directly into the search box. We’ll return results that include quick links to easily track the status of your shipment.

Example:

Local Search

If you’re looking for a store, restaurant, or other local business you can search for the category of business and the location and we’ll return results right on the page, along with a map, reviews, and contact information.

Example:

Movie Showtimes

To find reviews and showtimes for movies playing near you, type "movies" or the name of a current film into the Google search box. If you've already saved your location on a previous search, the top search result will display showtimes for nearby theaters for the movie you've chosen.

Example:

Unit Conversion

You can use Google to convert between many different units of measurement of height, weight, and mass among others. Just enter your desired conversion into the search box and we’ll do the rest.

Example:

Calculator

To use Google's built-in calculator function, simply enter the calculation you'd like done into the search box.

Example:

Time

To see the time in many cities around the world, type in "time" and the name of the city.

Example:

How to Grieve

"After the first death, there is no other," wrote Dylan Thomas.

That doesn't mean the ones that come after won't break your heart, but it's the first that punches your soul's passport. Welcome, fellow human, to a different country than the one you woke up to this morning. The air's different here; so is the scenery. Your knees don't work so well; in fact, you may want to fall to them.

For a precious little while, you are allowed to be stunned into silence, or to shriek, or to talk—recounting stories of who he was, what she meant to you, and how it all came to an end. Tell those stories. Some people may try to enforce "The Rules," to wit: Enough of This Drama Is Enough. Ignore them. Besides, if you treat yourself gently and take the time you need, someday soon you'll hear the faint but steady voice of your own good sense.

Play music you love, sit in the sunshine if you can find some, and if anyone offers you a hand, hold it. Let them feed the cat, too, because they want to be useful. If your good sense does not kick in on its own, help it along: scramble some eggs. It will feel strange at first. But if you pretend that scrambling eggs is normal, eventually it will become normal. Soon you can squeeze some orange juice, too.

For some of us the stay in this new country seems endless. But time passes, seasons change, and, truly, would those we grieve for want us to mope? Come with me, back into the world. We'll return to this land someday, all too soon, but in the meantime the garden needs weeding, the bills need paying. Your other loved ones need you.

And you, my sweet friend, you could use a shampoo.

Peru Adventures - Machu Picchu

And then the vampire started chasing me through the dense forest.. Tripping over the foliage I slipped down into an embankment. Terror coursed through me as I heard his laughter close beside me somewhere in the darkness. But his laughter changed and now it sounded more like an alarm...?

I rubbed my eyes looking for my alarm which was going off somewhere in the darkness...it read 4:30am. Ugh... I cringed as I slipped out of bed and tripped over the decorative pillows Abizer had thrown onto the floor the night before. In addition to me being unable to coordinate my legs, reading the book Twilight was not helping my sanity nor my sleeping habits I reasoned with myself silently. But I couldn't stop thinking about the book. Sigh I'm still a hopeless romantic. Smack! Hmm I seemed to have found the bathroom door.

I sat on the train and looked out onto the platform. I watched as a little puppy with the most adorable eyes stared back at me from the corner of an orange stall. He was alone and just watching people. We had some things in common, as I sat and watched the busy, bustling locals and tourists navigating through the narrow alleyway lined with eager local vendors selling all sorts of products.

I was knocked out of my observation abruptly as a woman knocked on my train window. Lady! Want rug? Huh? I responded. Then I glanced her over and realized she was carrying a handful of colorful ornamental rugs. They have alpaca one side! Llama on other? Lady?!?!! I smiled back at her and shook my head no. Gracias but no thank you I said in my limited Spanish. But she had another agenda. Like a magician she pulled out hats and finger puppets. Lady! She started, "you not cold!?!" Once again I smiled fascinated by her moving fingers which animated the puppets on them and shook my head no to her second question. All of a sudden I felt a jerk as my train pulled out of the station. Hmm... 4 hours to go before I reach the Inca ruins I frowned thinking to myself.

Mountains and steep cliffs surrounded our now feeble looking train. Passing villages still based on agricultural trade as we chugged along. The peaks of the mountains covered in snow and the lush green valley made a dynamic duo as we inched closer towards the Inca ruins.

Hopping off the train... I was ambushed by vendors selling bug spray, stuffed llama's, those infamous carpets and finger puppets and suntan lotion. It was quite the garbled mess. We had to snake through the local stalls and tiny village until we reached our tour guide. When we reached our supposed destination we trudged onto a bus for another 20 minute bus ride higher up those lush green mountains. Amusing.. I seemed to be plagued by hour after hour on public transportation of all sorts here in Peru.

The ruins were fascinating. Their origin and overall construction was mind boggling to wrap around my mind. They basically carved every niche and cranny of the place with chisels! Sigh! Those Inca men must have been so chiseled themselves. Girlish giggle. I stated as the tour guide went on and on about the symmetry of the rocks and finally I wandered off on my own taking my camera with me. I watched as two llamas ran across the grassy plains in the ruins. They seemed so carefree and soft. Odd combination... For a llama.

Literally thousands of photos later of the ruins, mountains, lizards, and Inca rabbits I debated whether I should set up a stall and sell my "blah" pictures as postcards to unexpecting tourists. Luckily for the locals and sadly for me... my tour guide found me and dragged me along again before I could put my plan into action.. How the tour guides knew to look out for my wandersome and naughty nature I didn't comprehend but it amused me none the less.

Peru Adventures: The Rainforest & Cusco

To visit Peru is to enter a country where culture and history abound where ever you look, a country with an exceptional natural environment framing impressive ruins from ancient civilizations.

Peru's central and southern regions also feature significant cultural landmarks and appealing tourist attractions. In the center of the country, you'll find Lima, the national capital, which is considered to many to be the food capital of the continent. Towards the Andes, you'll find Cusco the capital of the Inca empire. Nearby is one of the worlds most important treasures; the stunning ruins of Machu Picchu. The ruins are renowned for their archetectural and engineering complexity.

I sat breathless as the droplet of sweat started to make it's way down my back. I continued to ignore my body's pleas to go search out an air conditioned abyss. Staring out into the dirt roads from our tour bus I watched as motorcycles and three wheelers passed.

I stood in line waiting for my bags to get checked in. What was the small women with the mouse like face and hair all matted down with sweat saying about the gate? I sat down on the plastic waiting chairs getting ready for a 2hr flight to a small town called Maldonado...Once there a 1.5hr bus ride on roads, that had only been sketched in someones mind but never set into tar and stone, had began. Wishing it was over would be to accept defeat since a 3 hr boat ride down the amazon river was still to come.

What was all this for? To examine life at it's rawest form.. Untouched beauty... In the amazon jungle, the rainforest.

Staggering off the boat I approached what the locals called Wasai expeditions resort... It looked like a dirt road with lights and small huts from far away. From close by though it looked the same way. Sigh. No air conditioner, electricity only from 6pm-10pm, only cold water, no windows just netting, and the amazon river rushing only meters away from my "bungalow". Wow it truly was the Ritz.

Flashlight check, camera check, rainboots check, bug spray check, nerves put together semi-check....okay I was ready to take a night stroll through the Amazon rainforest. It's lonely, yet loud at the same time. I wandered into the forest behind our tour guide... But his speed was a bit faster than mine. Soon I lagged behind and took out my flashlight and looked around. It was dark and eerily quiet... Yet I could feel the forest alive and watching me...

I snapped photos of spiders, crickets, and ants on steroids, hoping my flash would not make them charge at me and bite me. As I sprinted to reach my tour guide I overheard him starting the instructions for a little game he thought would be fun. Gasp. A game in the rainforest? Hmm I was wondering what sort of neurological damage this man had enccured during birth. My train of thought was broken when I heard my name being called in his thick accent. Khush why don't you go first. Gulp. Oh great. He wanted me to stand in the dark for 5 minutes. And then go find the next person waiting. 5 minutes in the dark! Great. And then they left me... screaming inside silently.

Maam! Miss! Groggily I opened my eyes... Anger taking over. What imbecile decided to wake me up from my blessful slumber which just seemed to envelope me. Sigh. The flight attendant stared at me. Yes I replied... Please put your belt on. Another wave of anger swept over me. If we were to truly crash onto the ground I didn't think a feeble belt would keep my head from being decapitated. But regardless of my theories with her glaring at me I put it on and stared out the window at Cusco.

Cusco was 3,400 above sea level. This affects blood oxygen and therefore most people developed a throbbing constant headache along with fainting in some cases on there stay here. In our party of 19 people... 7 were inflicted. The town of Cusco which had a population of 40,000 people had small clay-lined homes which were adorable and llamas everywhere.

Another night withers away into the approaching dawn

Well its Friday night.. and here I am... talking to my television.. which amusingly enough talks back in snippets via commercials.

Yeah go me....I'm finally withering away mentally.

I wonder what life will be like in 10 years... I speak with my friends and we have come to the conclusion that this topic is a bit risky and it is best to leave it alone...True it is.. but can it be much different that the life I lead now...I wonder. I already spent my adolescence acting like a middle-aged women, what will I be when I am actually middle-aged.

There's something about music...that soothes the wildness in me. True, I'm not that wild.. but then again when was I given a chance to ever be...But something about arabic instrumental music... soothing.. kind of like overdosing on nyquil.. which makes no sense. But then again nothing in this post does right..

Let me end on a good note...Here's a video that should make you smile.

What to do when you open a box and don't like what follows?

Hmm.. Its been a while since I last wrote. For that sorry. Well... I had good reasons you see which deterred me from writing...which I will eventually delve further upon.

But for now, I would like to comment on the simple fact that I am Html deficient. I spent the better part of my morning trying to tweak the template of this very web page but resulted in not achieving much at all. When I first started this web page I was quite savvy in changing the margins, the padding, etc. but I seem to have grown cobwebs in those sectors of my brain now. I guess I should take a class or something. Thats my solution to everything. ^_^

Okay so onto more depressing thoughts. So reason numero uno for being so distant from all of you was...you kind of smell. No really... you do. Okay, okay... the real reason was because ....I was sick. Yes I know a silent debate has been going on for ages now whether or not I am truly mental or just a closeted serial killer. Well let me assure you... that its the second option first of all and that I was sick in the terms of physical not mental illnesses.

So while I was cleaning the walls of my apartment one fine Sunday...actually the Sunday that UTSAV was hosting its Dance off competition in the Curry Student Center Ballroom if I remember correctly... Okay back on track...so I was cleaning the walls of my apartment... and no that isn't weird that is what people on medication do...I felt a pain when ever I tried to breathe in.

Yes oddly amusing...I know...Oscar nominating I must say. Well anyhow...I continued to clean the wall, which now is absolutely stellar, and then went to the show on campus. By evening I had grown accustomed to the fact that when I tried to breathe it was painful.. so I adjusted to shallow breaths. I'm so creative ain't I. Well by next morning...when it got worse I figured I was a loser and was the only inhabitant on earth who had pulled a muscle while scrubbing her walls down. Turns out I was a little bit off on my medical diagnosis.

So I pulled out the car from the garage and drove to Brigham and Women's hospital in Longwood to figure out exactly what I had done to myself. So I valeted the car, which I found intriguing that they only had this service for patients. I guess if they get lucky and you get admitted long term they get a hefty valet payment from you. Eventually after giving more personal data then what I posted on Facebook to the registration nurse, I took a seat to wait. Apparently the man who tore his finger off at the construction site, the women with internal bleeding, the man with the odd coughing behind his blue mask were more dire than me.. so my wait got a bit extended...since I was still not bleeding all over the floor and able to breath on my own.

My name was called... it was a dream.. nope...it was real. A gaunt looking man who looked like he should be admitted himself called what sounded like my garbled given name out loud and I got up regrettably and walked behind him into the bustling ER. After I was told to strip down and put on the paper thin gown...which had three strings instead of a backside I laid down on the gurney. I answered the usual questions of ... do you smoke? are you pregnant? what happened? And then I was left alone in the room which was created by 4 ceiling to floor curtains...

To my surprise a boy not even 22 opened my curtained door next and asked if I wanted to participate in a HIV study while I waited on my blood test results. I figured it was better than counting the number of band aids they had in the table next to me...so I said why not. Turns out I had to answer a 5 page survey and I got a HIV test for free...nice deal. He then left with my bubbled in answer sheet, and a cotton swab from my mouth to test. I sadly never saw him again...to find out the results...creepy.

A doctor then popped his head in and asked me the same questions again that the nurse had asked me not even 15 minutes before. I figured they wanted to check if my story had changed. He then checked my heart rate which was a bit fast, then listened to my breathing.. which I believe increased when he slide his ice cold stethoscope over my chest. Then he said he wanted to do a chest x-ray and an EKG. I said sounds like fun...lets do it. My EKG showed that the right side of my heart was a bit strained...and he figured it might be due to the labored breathing epidemic I was exhibiting since the night before. Before he left he asked if I was really cleaning my wall the night before and then smiled and left.

More time passed and now my only source of entertainment was playing peek a boo with my feet under the blanket. So it turned out my blood test and chest x-ray were a bit suspicious but not definite so they said I had to go for a CT of the chest. Which is basically a machine which takes cross-sectional x-rays of the organs and tissues in the chest and then combines all the images taken (roughly about 1000) for a detailed image of the interior of the chest. And if they suspect a blockage of sorts they also use a contrast dye, which they injected into your arm (yes I know..what fun to have every blood vessel in your chest all of a sudden light up). It was a odd sensation, when they injected the iodine dye into my arm...you heat up immediately and then the heat gravitates to your pelvis...making you believe you wet yourself. Truly odd. But you also get kind of light headed and you end up with a metallic taste in your mouth which is kind of gross. Oh well.

After hopping back onto my gurney again. I then waited some more for a diagnosis. I kind of assumed it wasn't a pulled muscle anymore. But I was hopeful. The doctor peeked back in and said you are a healthy young girl... to which I smiled because I figured that meant I was okay. But then he didn't stop there...which then froze the smile on my face. He went on further to say I had bilateral Pulmonary Emboli. Now since I wasn't in med school yet I was a bit confused by what this meant...so he went onto explain that this meant...I had a blood clot that had formed somewhere in my body...probably my legs which then broke off and traveled to one of my pulmonary arteries in my lungs and had lodged itself in there which was cutting off blood supply and oxygen to a portion of my lung which was resulting in a pulmonary infarction. (death of lung tissue due to lack of oxygen) By bilateral he meant I had somehow managed to get more than one blood clot or emboli lodged in both of my lungs. Hmm... apparently I was in serious trouble and I was admitted into the hospital.

You know you are in bad shape when the hospital asks where they can reach your family, and asks if you would like for them to call a priest. Whenever a sentence ends in "call a priest" it is never good. But I pulled through...after nights of pain and crying...comatose like appearances, dehydration, my mother trying to kill me by turning up the oxygen level on my mask a notch too high, severe nausea, heart attack level heart beat rates, friends coming to see me, and of course family. I finally ran away after a week in the hospital...promising to continue with 6 months of a blood thinner regime...and 2x weekly blood test.

Turns out I have a 1 in 20 chance of getting it again...
I have accepted that since I initially had a 100 in 100,000 chance of getting a PE in the first place...

So that in a nutshell is why I couldn't write for a while...sorry.

Ohh to laugh must be a sin...

Made Private by author.
Contact author if you have any questions.

A Tigress to a cub in training...

With utmost sadness and regret I am here to report that...my black beauty.. has gone to a place where she can now roam free...For the utterly confused at this point... the G-class is gone.

Sigh... I shall forever miss the roar of her engine, and her demonic spirit.


But in life... change is always ever present I assume.. so without any further ado.. I would like to present to you all the new addition to the family... baby BB... baby black beauty that is. Meow...Toddles...

I can't lift 15lb weights...

Now this might be shocking to some people what I am about to reveal at this moment.

[inaudible whisper] I joined a gym. Eeeeekkkkkk.. I know! Well it needed to be done so I shall tell you how it goes with my personal trainer, with whom I am meeting at 11AM.

What if my head gets stuck in one of the machines or what if I get locked in the locker room. It is possible, you know.... stop laughing at me.


Well I must go look for a pair of shorts. I don't think I even own a pair of those....jeez. At least my sneakers are brand new.. I bought them about 5 years ago and now I finally have a place to wear them. Yeah!

I apologize for the blunt delivery...

Hmm.. It's been literally ages since I last wrote to you all, for that simple fact, I apologize. Life has honestly been quite hectic with school and my personal life. You know.. killing my fishes, burning the kitchen, carving pumpkins, chasing after my demon possessed sibling, teeth whitening extreme, CSI psychosis, car havoc, and ohh.. homework here and there. It really drains me at the end of the day.

So I have lovely news to report....nope it's actually quite dismal..but even my own fake enthusiasm had me convinced for a brief moment. I'm 23 now... gag. Also, I have finally graduated. Yup, I did it! yeah....again that fake enthusiasm has crawled into my writing. I will truly miss Northeastern, not some of the teachers I have had (see post below), but overall the experience was lovely.

Sigh...I guess now I have to really grow up. Adult life has officially started. What do I do with myself. Back to my job search I assume, and medical school applications.

Did you know?

1. In 2007, the Northeastern University received over 30,000 applications for 2800 seats in the freshman class. The acceptance rate was 39%. Northeastern is ranked among the top 10 private universities in the U.S. in terms of the total number of applications received.
2. In 2007, Northeastern was classified as a RU/H Research Extensive institution (high research activity) by the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of teaching.In 2006, annual external research funding exceeded $70 million.
3. Behrakis Center is also designed to act as a response center in the event of a mass public health emergency in the city of Boston; it can be converted into a fully functional hospital in 24 hours.
4. Prior to the opening of the Snell Library in 1990, Dodge Hall served as the main library for all colleges at Northeastern University.

Snip...Snip..ohh look at that shirt...

Snip...snip… “hmm I think a little bit shorter in the front”...
snip... snip… “A little bit more please”...
snip... snip... “Hmm...I think if”...
CHOP... “Hey!”

Yes, so it's apparently evident that I got a haircut today. It's basically the same, mind-numbing overall look, just got it hacked a bit shorter. Not too short so don’t get your knickers in a bunch now. Oh, but it feels so much lighter and I feel so liberated…Slap. Sorry I am back to normal again.

In this perpetual state of snow emergency warnings, I decided to go to the mall today, to make a return. Obviously a very bad idea with all of the manic Christmas shoppers ravaging the clothing racks. It's scary my friends. Watching otherwise normal and sane individuals salivating from their mouths with bloodshot eyes...like I said its frightening reminds me of a movie I saw today...


I happened to see the movie "I am Legend" starring Will Smith today, which was adapted from the 1954 novel by revered sci-fi/fantasy author and storied Twilight Zone scribe Richard Matheson. And honestly if any one's going to be the last man on Earth, then Will Smith seems like the ideal candidate to me.

SPOILER ALERT: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE MOVIE

In the opening a television news report hails a medical breakthrough -- a viral cure for cancer, no less. Cut to New York three years later: abandoned cars, no one in sight, grass growing waist-high around Times Square. Apparently something has gone very, very wrong.

He's not quite alone though and you get that ominous feeling with his ritualistic lifestyle governed by the stopwatch he wears. Robert Neville (Will Smith) patrols Fifth Avenue in his Mustang with Sam, a German Shepherd, broadcasting into the void, then returning home to his Washington Square townhouse to put up the shutters before nightfall. They both happen to have been immune to the virus, his dog is randomly immune to the airborne version.

Why does he close the metallic shutters at sunset...eerily enough you find out soon enough. It's when the “Dark Seekers” venture out: feral, contaminated people with a rabid appetite for flesh but with no pupil dilation reflex to protect them against sunlight.

It was a great, suspenseful movie and I would recommend it to everyone. I literally hopped out of my seat numerous times, scaring not only Sejal but the random people whom I happened to kick with my foot as well. Oops. I feel in love with Will Smith and wanted to adopt Samantha, the German Shepherd. Definitely a must see...