How Christmas Unifies Us

As my favorite day for blog updates comes around (the blessed Thursday) I find myself celebrating one of the oldest, most renown and important holidays of the year with the greater part of humanity. It's an exciting time, and different types of festivities can be noted in every culture. For expats, Christmas is the most important holiday and a period where many of us take our home leave back to our home countries so we can be with family, friends and those who matter most to us.

I will offer one cross-cultural observation, did you ever stop and consider how many people on earth at this very moment are celebrating Christmas? It's one holiday which transcends continents and many cultures, an imported into some nations but then ingrained in their cultures. That in itself is remarkable. The Aussis may hit the beach, Americans pray for a "white Christmas" and the Germans set up their Christmas markets yet in the end we are all marking the same date, the day that Christ was born.

How you spend Christmas is no doubt slightly different then mine. But that's just part of the magic and significance, Christmas is for everyone. Even those who don't note is as a national holiday still in their own way mark the date because that's how ingrained it has become. Love it, enjoy it, and God bless us....everyone.

How to Finish an AA Online

I can finally say I've finished university. I have graduated, I can breath in a deep breath of air, enjoy the freedom, revel in the delight and joy of no responsibilities...or can I? Actually I'm only half done. I've finished my first two years of university with an AA degree, half way to a final four year degree. Nonetheless, it's a degree, it's a great place to be and by transferring in four classes and taking a summer semester, I completed two years in 18 months.

Having now finished the mountain of former problems blend into a mirage of memories including bad internet, bad math homework, a few locational moves, couple of tankers worth of coffee, and maybe even a few fits of rage at whatever thing was supposed to function but wasn't...I live overseas...remember? The mirage notwithstanding, I'm glad to finish and be on to new adventures. It's time to try something else.

I learned a few tricks for online success. 1) Drink coffee, lots of coffee because if you don't you'll be sorry. That's all I can say. 2) Work ahead, the internet often dies, the teachers are late responding to email the school site goes down so you've got to stay a few days ahead. 3) Play the "I live overseas card," okay...I used this trick with the profs when I truly did have an excuse and it worked well though playing the card normally meant there was a problem with resulted in more work for me so in the end it's a negative thing.

Sadly I didn't get to wear the funny graduation outfit. I'll have to wait another two years for that privilege. I'll have to work even longer, harder, endure strange food, more professors who take forever to grade homework and more poorly written papers by other students who constantly forget to justify their page margins. But now that's just a part of life.

How to Have a Happy Eid-al-Adha

Happy Eid-al-Adha! Eid is also spelled Idd as well and admittedly this post will arrive a day after the celebrations have drawn to a close. In the Muslim world, this is Christmas. It's three days long so people take the extra two days off and make it a great long holiday. The non-Muslim Pakistanis making up 3%-5% of the population-Christians, Hindus etc.-take their holiday at Christmas later in the month. December has mixed productivity.

Eid-al-Adha is a lunar based religious holiday commemorating Ibrahim's sacrifice of Ishmael to Allah. In Christendom we recognize this as Abraham's sacrifice of Issac stemming from a primary doctrinal different. The holiday also marks the end of the Hajj where any Muslim who possibly can goes to Mecca. In real life, Eid-al-Alha is giant three day long celebration involving, food, family, gifts, and more food. Each family must slaughter a goat and give a third to the poor and Tuesday there was the smell of butchery on the winds of Islamabad and we saw goats in all shapes and forms around the city. We thought about having our own version of Eid...Pizza Hut...but all the stores were closed...so we studied for finals. It's the last week of the fall semester and my American university didn't recogize Eid as a holiday (they didn't give me a Thanksgiving break either, I was ticked on both counts).

This was my first Eid and while I applaud tradition, it reminded why I'm deciding to turn vegetarian. Not that I disapprove of meat, I simply disliked seeing all the goat parts. Goats are cute.

How World AIDS Day Came to Be

In my world, in the world of overseas dwelling expats working in developing nations, World AIDS Day is significant. Weeks and months of planning go into 1 December in order to pull of a memorable and poignant day. With my dad working in relief and development, I've seen my share of World AIDS Days and been to quite a few events. It's almost a game; will this year's program be better then last years? Can this organization compare with the other? While growing up, sometimes I had fun at these events and enjoyed the numerous tasty finger sandwiches and samosas. Other times I've been bored unto tears and would sigh loudly in some dark corner while whinging about the lack of food. Thankfully, this year the program was fantastic and I was excited to attend and take part.

World AIDS Day came to be in 1988 with the help of Johnathan Mann and the World Health Organization. The UN later appointed 1 December as the international date and since then independent organizations have been set up for it's promotion. It serves as a type of Memorial Day or Veterans Day; we're aware of an issue but let's set aside a day to really do something about it. World AIDS Day started with a concentration on young people and children. Later it grew to accommodate everyone and typically has a "theme" set by UNAIDS months in advance. The 2005-2010 theme is "Stop AIDS. Keep the Promise." World AIDS Day shouldn't simply be commemorated by NGOs, health officials and governments, it should cause everyone everywhere to stop and think. How does AIDS affects people? How is the problem continued? What's our response? What are possible solutions? Most importantly, how do we treat those with AIDS? It's our opportunity to express solidarity with those devoted to eradicating this pandemic, and show our support to the 33 million people currently suffering from the disease. It's a time to raise awareness about the issue with the informed and the uninformed.

Currently in Pakistan, over 74,000 people live with HIV/AIDS, .01% of the population. While certainly lower then many Africa nations which have up to 1/5 infection rate, it's not the percentages but the actual lives affected. Globally, few people are able to receive treatment and still millions more lack understanding regarding transmission. Despite all the work poured into stopping the disease and it's transmission, the problem continues and is here to stay.

Some say the AIDS pandemic won't peak until 2040. Other suggest 2020. Regardless, our children will never know a world without AIDS. Maybe one day I'll see Mao Zedong's photo in Tienanmen Square come tumbling down, but I'll never live in a world without AIDS. That's why we say stop AIDS. Keep the promise.

How Goes Thanksgiving Overseas

More then just about any other holiday overseas, Americans place a huge emphasis on Thanksgiving. Quite a few people go home for Christmas, but rarely Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is important to the American culture, you know this when you start creating a list of all the Americans you know in your overseas location.

What Americans will do and pay for a turkey overseas. Oh the meat I've had for Thanksgiving during my 10 years overseas has been downright criminal but it has to be some kind of turkey. We pay the $8 for the cranberry sauce and join in the fellowship of "Americans Who Stress Over the Thanksgiving Dinner." It's important to recreate the feast not only for the cultural significance but because there are so many reasons to give thanks. Even though we're not with people who might mean the most to us, there are aspect of our lives to celebrate. I have known of Americans with a dish having guy parties to watch the football games. Sports.

This year, it was the most traditional I've ever known overseas and perhaps the most fun. We sat around with friends and enjoyed the spread, told jokes and swapped stories about who had the most bizarre story with a foreign airline (that was the hardest to judge). It wasn't so Norman Rockwell-ish but to us it was fabulous, down to the mosque prayers in the distance. We also have the maid which comes the following day and washes all the dishes, ha, ha, ha! There's no Black Friday overseas. I live in an Islamic Republic. The money stays in my wallet. And though it's the wrong holiday to say this, God bless us, everyone.

How We're Anomies

The following is a paper written for my sociology class. Sociology is something I've come to appreciate recently. While the theories rarely interest me, I enjoy learning of trends and putting names to concepts I observe. This week's topic was anomie, a state people reach when they win the lottery and can no longer relate to culture normally. I naturally had to apply this concept to a favorite subject, life overseas and how we're anomies in our own right. Albeit this is written for an audience outside this blog and for my evangelical university, but perhaps you can relate...perhaps you're an overseas anomie.

"I can easily relate to the concept of an anomie. Expatriates like myself who have been raised or spent significant time overseas define ourselves as partially anomies. From one culture but living in another culture, we acknowledge that we don’t fit into either and therefore create an informal “third culture” with other expatriates struggling with the same issue. Returning to the States I frequently feel detached and confused as the American culture continues to develop in my absence and I’m left unclear as to the new acceptable standard for behavior, food consumption, clothing style, and slang. Last summer I discovered Americans were “going green.” The year before that was another fad. My response to transitions is reliance on friends, family, and faith.

"Being dropped into new circumstances is challenging and you instantly become an anomie. Likewise being tossed into new personal wealth entailing a new status and prestige come with its own headaches. Shefik Tallmadge was one of those people thrown into change and unable to handle it. Tallmadge was suddenly transformed into anomie and this transformation was complicated by his absence of a support system. Individuals with close friends and family, involved in the community and holding strong religious convictions are destined to handle sudden change better and not become anomies. In Tallmadge’s case he had no friends to guide him, no financial help and in addition was excessively greedy. He was expected to develop good habits after he won the lottery unlike Milt Laird who received his $27 million jackpot yet already had a sound foundation under him. Milt knew how to handle his money thanks in part to history in finance and he made intelligent choices. Friends, faith and community create a group, a small society and to lose this foundation is to become an anomie. Tallmadge fell for the myth that money grows on trees, and his forest proved rather small.

"Christians have their own financial responsibilities. We’re expected to tithe 10% of incomes, stay out of debt, care for our family and generally be “good stewards.” We also have Christian social obligations, to care for widows, orphans and those in distress. Solomon notes our responsibility to, “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” An increase in wealth should not cause Believers to forget these responsibilities. Ignoring these God given requirements means becoming an anomie with God and the fellowship of Believers.

"Personally my “social class” is a diverse group of expatriates living and working in Islamabad; German, French, Dutch, British, Australian, and South African. Working in diplomacy and development, they’re highly educated and come from varied backgrounds normally in the lower middle classes. We’re fundamentally different but our anomie-like connection with our homelands brings us together in a tight community holding out for stability in strange and insecure country. My family informally appointed ourselves custodian of laughter, and we strive that everyone who walks through our door is able to laugh and relax. It’s our witness to extend encouragement to expatriates and nationals, Christians and non-Christians alike and demonstrate that we believe in the sovereignty of God despite any insecurity."

How I Learned from My Ipod

I'm at a lost this week for overseas subjects to expound upon. While much of my time has been centered around sociology, any ideas discovered therein are not yet fully developed to put into theories. Instead I will make reference to lessons learned from my latest toy, my Ipod.

My birthday occurred this week, a momentous event as I grow closer to the point in one's life where one does not divulge one's age on birthdays. I asked the parentals for an Ipod, a Product Red Ipod, and indeed this was my present; a slick little thing that when I first held I could have sworn I was going to lose it was so flat and small. It was a perfect present because it will be perfectly useful for my soon to be life in an American world.

It's easy to go green. I'm all for green; going green is a new fetish but more then anything I desire to go Red. I wish for humanity to take a vested interest in overseas issues such as AIDS in Africa or Islam in Asia. The emergence of Product Red has shown me that despite everything, Americans do care and this delights my little nomadic heart. My delights are increased by now being able to expand my knowledge through books on CD, or should I say audio books since CDs are no longer necessary, all uploaded and waiting for me to enjoy while I live my life. If those two bits of knowledge weren't enough, I can now enjoy BBC Podcasts in the morning. It's such a delight to hear my friend on BBC from bygone days, droning on in my ears about world affairs while I slip my coffee in Islamabad. It makes a person feel so connected to the rest of the world.

How 8 years Changed the World

The Florida Recount seems like decades ago, remember that? I was a quirky preteen living in Medford Oregon years before any of my political interests cultivated. Now with a new president-elect, the world heralds a coming era of peace and prosperity. George W. Bush polarized thought but it's been a tough 8 years. Recently I sat down and thought above some of the key events of the last 8 years and what they meant for me but most importantly, our world. I attempted to imagine what these developments will look like in our children's history books.

9/11/01- 9/11 is undoubtedly the single biggest event of this decade. It moved us from a post-Cold War world to a War of Terror. It's created a new image of America internationally and the results of 9/11 will be felt for years to come. It revived an interest in both Islam and the afterlife as it reminded us that life is indeed a gift which can be snatched away in a moment. Since then we've seen seen chaos and grief all over the world, Madrid, London, and Iraq as we move into our own brave new world with our own challenges much different from those on 9/10/01.

Going Green- I watched "Some like it Hot" recently, a 1959 comedy in which of the protagonists ask for 40 cents of gas for a road trip. I laughed, out loud, a lot. So gas as gone up a little but then so has the "Go Green" movement. We're dedicated to finding clean renewable energy and are willing to make changes at the grass-roots levels. The economy has been both strong and weak in the past 8 years, but going green is something I'm proud of.

China- The West was predicting doom for China during the days after Tienanmen Square. China as the crouching dragon is beginning to waken. Amazingly, in the past 8 years they've grown at rates which shock both historians and economists. They've embraced capitalism and emerged as a potential top player on the global playing field. Even Communist Cuba shows signs of opening up to the world reaffirming that Reagan did end the Cold War. China's entry into the Modern Age at the Beijing Olympics was glamorous, and it's going to be very interesting in the future.

Darfur- Darfur hasn't changed in the past 8 years, but now it's a household word. It's becoming a pet project for many celebrities and stars who are actively promoting change in Sudan and other sectors of the global society. We've seen many disasters, Pakistan's 2005 earthquake, the 2004 Sumatra Tsunami and Hurricane Katrina and we've seen the involvement of millions of people worldwide in relieving suffering and restoring order and prosperity.

Ipod- This was certainly not something from the 90s! In the past 8 years we've thrown cassettes to the dogs, CDs to the bookshelves and embrased ITunes. We catch the latest episodes of Gray's, Lost, or American Idol on our computers and listen to news podcasts on they way to work. Steve Jobs became a billionare and we started walking around with thousands of songs on a 4 inch bit of Asian manufactured metal with Q-tip-like bits in our ears..."Please don't stop the music, music..."

Zimbabwe- We saw Africa's breadbasket change under one man's leadership to a land of suffering and angry chaos. We've seen two national elections rigged and done nothing. The pain there continues, and this is a project along with Darfur we carry with us into the future. We must continue to strive for order and reconciliation.

Globalization- We've seen outsourcing, moving beyond our own boarders at lightening speed and on a large scale. We've introduced Indian salespeople on our telephones, Dell computers custom made in China and even the intro of the Euro. The Internet debuted social networks like MySpace and Facebook, Skype, Wikipedia, Google and online university choices. Globalization is strong, it's changing us and like the title of Thomas Friedman's book, "The World is Flat."

Harry Potter- Okay, so the first book was published in 97. Okay I only read the first book before being bored but the little English wizzard in Coke-bottle glasses did hit it big. His creator has made over a billion in revenue and we're still awaiting more movies. We've seen the growth of family films as well, Cars, Finding Nemo, Narnia and have proved to Hollywood that the gore doesn't make the blockbuster.

Can you believe all the change? We live in an era moving at the speed of sound and we move forward into our own brave new world embracing the change and resolved to make it a better place. The world I live in, the world I'll work in, the world I want to change is the world created by the past 8 years, and I welcome the challenge.

How to Travel the KKH

Coming home from our trip to the Northern Areas, our flight was canceled. We decided rather then waste precious vacation days, we'd drive back on the only road...the one and only, the famous Karakoram Highway (KKH). They call it the 8ths wonder of the world. Considering it took 20 solid years and 892 lives to complete, it's pretty amazing.

The KKH follows some sections of the old Silk Trail but it mainly follows the Indus River with the roads thousands of feet above the river basin. The KKH begins in Hasan Abdal China and ends in Kashgar Pakistan, not too far from Islamabad. It's a truckers road, built by the Chinese to sponsor trade between China and Pakistan and is mainly traveled by the gorgeous Pakistani trucks. It's supposedly two lanes, but it's a miracle anyone can actually pass on some of the sections. Much of the road is carved out of the solid rock high and then drops off for several thousand feet. Drivers have to both watch the road and keep and eye up for the frequent rock slides. Rock slides can shut down the KKH for hours or days and back up traffic until someone clears the debris. Maintaining the road is a constant battle. As it is, it's impossible to travel faster then 50 kph which is considered a decent speed.

Driving home we started in Gil Git so in total we drove almost half of the entire KKH. We started out at 4am from Gil Git, and arrived in Islamabad at 00:30. It was a little long and several passengers in our rented Toyota van were sick from something we ate, sick from the switchbacks or sick from the heights. It's slow going with the trucks and one 100 kilometer section of road took us an hour and a half. We had lunch at the office of a humanitarian organization in Besham which neared the halfway mark at 4pm. It was another 6 hours on to Abbottabad where we stopped for snacks and to let the driver have a smoke. Finally reaching the outskirts of Islamabad at 23:30, we were turned back because the police and national security wouldn't let a van inside the city limits. We were forced to drive another 45 minutes out of our way to enter the city though the trucking highway.

All in all, it wasn't that much fun but now we're laughing about it. It's rare you ever regret something that afforded awesome views of diverse and beautiful places.

How to Kill Yourself on Term Break

Living overseas has taught me both to be rational/reasonable and daring/stupid. I hardly know what column my fall term break falls into. Term break means a holiday from hard work which I can assure you was intense over my now completed 8-week term. I was up for laying around, writing friends and watching TV shows. But no! We must seize the moment! Part of living overseas involves enjoying what's around while it's around so we decided to make a trip to the Himalayas while we're in Pakistan and term break is a perfect time to do that.

"North" means "Northern Areas," officially "Federally Administered Northern Areas" (FANA); (not to be confused with Northwest Frontier Provence where the militants hang out; no one goes there). The Northern Areas back up to China thus the trade and thus the high mountains and deep ravines. The mountains are incredible; they go straight up out of the river basins and on the flight up we were actually flying with the mountains higher then the plane.

We started off by visiting Fairy Meadows (so named by Germans explorers). We traveled in 1970s Russian jeeps (beautifully refurbished) up the side of these cliffs in a frightening experience for even those who like heights. The “road” was a path thousands of feet above a river basin. Once the 16 kilometer death trip ended, we trekked for several hours up steep inclines over more cliffs before reaching the camp. Little House on the Prairie cabins with no heating welcomed us while it snowed down upon us wimps from Southern Africa. When the sun finally came out, we had a stunning view of Nanga Parbat, the second highest peak in Pak, ninth in the world. Nanga Parbat is a deadly climb and quite a few people have died in their attempt to make it to the top (we only trekked around it). All this, is only going up. We could have died coming down too and then we realized, it's always important to read the fine print.

After Fairy Meadows we spent the night in Gil Git before driving north towards Hunza Valley. We spent two nights at the famous Eagle's Nest lodge at the tree line high above the beautiful valley. Hunza residents are considered to be more open people. The women are highly educated and freely walk around without headscarves and people are very friendly. We did some mild trekking around Hunza and saw the famous 800 year old Baltit Fort sitting near a now melted glacier. Hunza boasts it's own peaks; Golden Peak, Lady Finger and our favorite, Racaposhi (we said it over and over again, attempting to create as many different phrases with the word as possible). We then traveled on to visit Passu Glacier north towards the China boarder.

We were supposed to fly out of Gil Git a week later on Wednesday morning but due to the weather, Tuesday's flights were canceled (happens all the time with mountain weather) so they kicked us off the Wednesday flight. How we got home, is another deathly adventure. But that's reserved for next week.

How to Vote Absentee

Voting is a privilege. Many consider it a right, but it's a privilege to participate in government. Those who know me can perhaps guess who I voted for, but it's a secret. This was my first election as a voting member of the American population, a rite of passage I've coveted for ages. I've followed the campaigns and like many Americans was amazed at Hilary's success and shrugged at her demise. I enjoyed the conventions (via CNN online) and read the articles. I didn't find it a very interesting election, but I plan on living for more drama.

I'm convinced global nomads are some of the most brilliant people. We're expected to understand our own political system (often complicated), and that of our host country (often more complicated). We follow our own elections and that of our host country. Depending on our host country, we hide out in our homes during elections and if we're unlucky, we experience post-election violence and write hundreds of emails to family and friends assuring them of our safety (or lack of safety). The effort is exhausting keeping names and positions straight for two systems. Nonetheless, as before stated, global nomads are politically intelligent. Despite Americans overseas possessing this brilliance, Gallup Poll doesn't poll us, no one collects data on us nor did McCain or Obama make an effort to engage us. While I understand we are small numbers, I hold it against them.

November 4th for American overseas is a non-events. We watch a map of the country on internet newspapers color in red and blue. Depending on the country and time zone, one can easily fall asleep in the process. In Kenya for Election 2004, I stayed up all night watching the numbers come in. This year, I might stay up all night anyway, watching TV shows, writing papers and cleaning my room. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. What happens in Washington affects our world directly. As they say over there...God bless America

How I Survived my First Ramadan

When I moved to Pakistan, I was excited by the prospect of being in an Islamic nation during Ramadan. I saw it something like celebrating Christmas in London or New Years Eve in NYC, the real thing in the real place. That was an accurate view in the end but Ramadan isn't quite what I expected it to be.

Ramadan is a major holiday and theological requirement in Islam. Ramadan follows the lunar month and all adherents fast from food, beverages, and smoking from sunup to sundown for that period. Exceptions are allowed for nursing mothers, the very elderly, infants and small children, and those who are sick or have eating disorders.

The month of Ramadan is very interesting because Islamabad simply became unusually quiet. People are allowed to leave work at 4pm instead of 6pm since there’s no lunch break and it’s difficult to concentrate without breakfast and lunch. Restaurants didn't open until after sundown. It’s impossible to find anything for lunch; no ice cream vendors, no guys selling frites on the side-streets, no coffee shops, no water sellers. Nonetheless, after sundown is very festive and people stay up till 3/4am. Pizza Hut offers a special all-you-can-eat buffet from midnight to sunup, which is exactly my idea of a good time to eat…but no one else in my family ever agreed with me on that point. During Ramadan, you're not allowed to eat on the streets or be seen eating or drinking during daylight hours. As a foreigner, no one expects you to fast, but keep it a secret that you're eating.

Ramadan ends with the three day holiday of Eid. Eid is somewhat like Christmas, there are lights on the shops, everyone buys a new outfit, children are given gifts and the three days are spent visiting family and friends. Eid was officially Wednesday-Friday but people took Monday and Tuesday off too so the holiday was well celebrated.

One of my favorite parts about Ramadan was the advertising. Food products began catering towards the evening partying, and posters and advertising was to die for. All in all, a unique experience, everyone has to do it once.

How to Live at Home

In Pakistan, people stay home. Culturally women stay home with the children because that's considered normal. With the security issues of the past years, more and more people opt for an indoors life but it's rarely dull as each family is expected to care for the husband's parents, and any needy relatives. Behind each gate is far more then a family of four with a pet. For security reasons, it's never a brilliant idea to attend publicized functions, well frequented restaurants, or spots known as favorites among foreigners. Don't be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Islam frowns on drinking and partying and precious few places serve alcohol outside the Diplomatic Enclave.

I likewise stay at home. With uni online, I stay in and I'm not much for partying and with increasing instability, staying home has become necessary (ordering in is natural part of life). Life at home requires some thought, and not everyone is cut out for it.

Get Internet. How else could I do uni? How else could I read the news? How else could I update my blog? How else could my sister and I watch old cycles of America's Next Top Model and Project Runway?(We're caught up on Lost, and find Grays dull.) The shows we can't watch online, we google the summaries to insure nothing happens to our favorite characters (thank goodness Betty didn't marry Henry in "Ugly Betty"). The internet also allows contact with friends through Facebook, Skype and email.

Books on CD. I'm often brain-dead after the amount of academia I process on a daily basis. At the end of a hard day, it's rewarding to listen to an engaging book on CD while ironing, cleaning or organizing books alphabetically. My sister and I hugely enjoy this activity (after discussing ANTM episodes) and are currently enjoying a book on Afghanistan.

Music. My guitar has become my life, after school that is...and brownies...and taking cold showers (the hot water heater died). Music is rewarding and requires time, time which I don't spend in car pools or on trains and is therefore available.

Play Games. I play a lot of games; 10 Days in Asia, Set, Guess Who?, Apples to Apples and Racko. Unfortunately, few people are up for a proper game of Monopoly (I like to win a little too much). The ping pong table is a bonus (when it's not covered in books, legos and homework).

Drink Coffee. I drink a lot of coffee. I'm bored, I drink coffee. I get a headache, I drink coffee. I procrastinate on exams, I drink coffee. I lay awake at night and think about coffee, and wake up to drink coffee. Fact is, when you live at home, you drink a lot of coffee. You don't get drunk on coffee and the extra buzz helps productivity. Regardless, go for the energy buzz, not the buzz leading you to believe you think you could potentially solve world hunger.

How Everything Changed One Dark Night

The Morning After

Last Saturday was not a dark and stormy night. It was however dark. Like all nights during the holy month, people we're celebrating iftar, the breaking of the day long fast. Iftar is a time of solidarity, friendship and family, a thanksgiving sized dinner every evening during Ramadan. Unfortunately, last Saturday night Islamabad was shaken up literally and figuratively and iftar ended tragically for hundreds of devoted Muslims.

The gravity of the Marriott bombing is lost on many people. It was Pakistan's largest domestic act of terrorism coming after the recent installment of a new president. Some called it the Pakistani 9/11. Around 60 people were killed including the Czech ambassador and at least 6 other expatriates. Over 260 people were injured, 90% of these being Pakistani. These were guards, drivers, waiters, and other everyday people. Islamabad has formally been known as a bubble protected from Pakistan's internal chaos where life carried on quite normally. In one evening, that bubble was burst revealing no place is immune from terrorism.

Saturday night, the city of Islamabad shook violently. My house shook during the deafening blast and we evacuated in fear of an earthquake. Windows were shattered for blocks. Smoke rose into the cloudy night. The city hibernated in response. Expats with organizations both diplomatic and humanitarian were advised to avoid public places including restaurants and stores. It was a time of uncertainty. People frantically attempted to contact friends and family. It's a time where you feel everything is slipping away.

Living through a bombing revealed a truth that I've known for a long time. When these events happen, we must know what we believe. We must have a foundation to hold onto when the rug is pulled out from underneath us. This is true across all cultures and in all countries. Where do you turn in tragedy? What remains constant in life? What remains constant in death? These are questions we answer in the quietness of our hearts, and the smoke of a shattered and fearful city.

How to Express University Attendance

You’ll hear a broad vocabulary when I discuss my pursuit of higher education and it’s not a desire to be confusing (my life is confusing, let's keep my education simple, thank you). Pursuing a degree through the American system living in nations using other systems means spending a significant amount of my life explaining my life. This is a rare problem as higher education is normally completed in one's home nation. My online university "attendance" has spanned a record 4 countries including the USA, and that my friend, has been during one academic year. This naturally excludes three holidays in three more countries during said academic year.

Like all cultures, Americans have certain assumptions regarding university. If I said, "I'm a junior," to an American, he would make a mental link to a previous reference where he encountered such an occurrence and assume that I am working on my third year of school enrolled in an establishment offering a four year degree. If I said, "I'm a junior" to a Brit, he would either scratch his head or say something tacky like "oh that's nice," because my statement does not fit into his paradigm. This, in a nutshell, is what constitutes culture and this in a nutshell is where I confuse people.

"I'm working on my studies."- I would say this to a Frenchman (or woman). In French we often refer to our college education as "studies" ("les etudes") because "studies" go on eternally. I’ve yet to formally understand the system. Regardless, students simply engage in "studies." “College” is the French word for high school and you obviously want people to think you're slightly more advanced so avoid that term.

"This is my second year of uni."- I would say this to a Brit or an Aussi. In the UK, a BA degree is less broad then in the American system reducing uni to three years. You can be a freshman ("fresher"), a middle year student ("middle-ist"), or a final year student ("finalist"). I learned the term "uni" from an Aussi friend who made it sound very appealing. The Aussis are normal like Americans and spend 4 years on uni.

"I'm in varsity."- I would say this in South Africa. "Down south" we go to "varsity." This does not imply you play sports. You do constantly hope for "hols" (holidays) because "hols" are "lakkar" (great). The South African university system follows the calendar year so "high school leavers" finish in December and begin "varsity" in January/February with periodic months off throughout the year. Despite the difference in schedule, a degree spans four years.

"I'm in DLP."- I would say this if I ran into another Liberty University student. DLP (Distance Learning Program) means you're an online student and pursuing your degree from bizarre places. Okay, I made up the part about bizarre places.

"I'm a sophomore in college."- In the USA, college and university are synonymous. College traditionally indicated a two year degree establishment but the difference has dissipated and concept of "college kid" is culturally desirable. We label students as freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors reflecting their process towards the average 4 year degree. The American university introduced the concept of the AA (Associates of Arts).

"Would you like clarification regarding my education?"- This is a statement I could make to people of all nationality and cultures who find my education....um....shall we say....unorthodox. But what can I say? People often think expats are bizarre.

How to Buy a Carpet

In Southern Asia, carpets are famous. They've been coveted for centuries, made it on the backs of camels to Western Civilization where they slept on the floors of wealthy Europeans for centuries more.

In Pakistan, carpets are the rage. Houses are huge and a carpet can serve as a wall decoration or warm a marble floor. We learned after coming here, there are many different types of carpets. Iranian carpets are the best and most expensive. Their designs are classic, which leads to copy-cat Home Depot version so the flip side to purchasing Iranian is that people think you got it on sale at Wal-Mart or Ikea. Of course, that's not a problem in Pakistan where those stores do not exist.

Pakistani carpets are not considered highly desirable because the local wool is coarser and therefore the carpets are not as soft. Carpets can be made from wool (basic) or silk (most expensive) or a combination of the two. Silk ones have their own special shine and even a marginal silk combination mixed with wool appear to change the colors of the carpets depending on the lighting.

My favorite carpets are from Afghanistan. These boast a unique shade of maroon/red indigenous to the region. The best carpets are those the most tightly woven. This is expressed in knots, you want a carpet with as many knots as possible because that means there's more cushion in the carpet.

It's very easy to spend hundreds of dollars on carpets, so know what you want, and how much you want to pay.

How to do Hard Things

Over the summer, I listened to "Do Hard Things" on a road trip. It's a book by teens for teens (okay I'm a little old) encouraging them to discard low expectations and reach higher. Why just scrape by, actually excel. Don't be lazy, do something really hard because the experiences will enrich your life.

Living overseas means doing a lot of hard things. Looking at some of my overseas experiences the past 10 years, I marvel at the enormity of the difficulties and the size of the rewards. This is true of people living in their home nations as well, nothing is easy. Still, it's one thing to be in a hard situation. It's another to choose to do hard things in that hard situation.

Here are two hard things an overseas dweller can do to enrich their experience. These are tried and tested suggestions I can promise anyone have 100% returns.

1) Meet the culture. This is hard (obviously, that's today's theme). It's easy to get in a clique with people from your own country and never experience the culture of the nation you live in. Step out, try the food, the language, the clothes. Go beyond being simply culturally senstive and learn about where you live.

2) Meet other expats. You'll get lonely sooner or later so you'll turn to people from your own nation. Look around you! The South African lady is brilliant, that Aussi might enjoy tea with you, that bizarre American family with 5 kids is loud but their cool. Don't hang out only with people from your own country. Enjoy the diverse international crowd, meet someone different who you have nothing in common with and make a friend.

3) Pick one thing that sounds hard and is outside your comfort zone, and do it. It's your choice, something that scares you, that you wouldn't normally try, and do it. Why not?

I'm working on hard things this fall as well. 1) Create acceptable study habits to promote the chance of more As on exams. 2) Learn how to run a soundboard. 3) Eat every bizarre Pakistani dish that exists.

Don't scrape by, do something hard. If you made the effort to go overseas, make the effort to take it to the next level.

How You Can Change Zimbabwe

With the last national elections in Zimbabwe, the international world caught just a glimpse of the chaos going on there. That was only a glimpse, we weren't even there. In the months since the chaotic events, we've seen repeated attempts to appease the situation, with no avail. Doing my daily news check on a list of my favorite previous and current residences (Zim, Pak, USA, France) I found a list of quotes by the present (and only) president of Zimbabwe, Robert Mugage.

“It may be necessary to use methods other than constitutional ones…”

“People are free to campaign and they will be free to vote. There won't be any soldiers, you know, at the queues. Anyone who has the right to vote is free to go and cast his vote anywhere in his own area, in his own constituency…”

“The only white man you can trust is a dead white man…The white man is not indigenous to Africa. Africa is for Africans. Zimbabwe is for Zimbabweans…”

“We pride ourselves as being top, really, on the African ladder... We feel that we have actually been advancing rather than going backwards…”

“Our economy is a hundred times better, than the average African economy. Outside South Africa, what country is [as good as] Zimbabwe?...What is lacking now are goods on the shelves - that is all…”

“So, Blair keep your England, and let me keep my Zimbabwe…”

“When they criticise the government when it tries to prevent violence and punish perpetrators of that violence we take the position that they can go hang…”

The Zimbabwean government is defiant, obstinate towards and with Western influences, state media openly blames sanctions for their economic deterioration, and they openly call world leaders crass and unkind names. But we're going to pray. That's what the churches in Zimbabwe and others around the world are doing; across denominations and political differences, we're praying for change, and we're praying for hearts to be changed in the horrific mess of the last 8 years. That's what you can do, that's what I do. The possibility of changing the world, truly does exist.

How I Survived Math

This posting is a celebration of survival leading to a monumental moment in my life, the end of mathematics. I had to take two math classes for my university education. One dragged on endlessly over the spring semester; 16 weeks over two continent and three countries, just awful. The second I took over the summer; 14 weeks, three continents, three countries, less awful, still awful. The idea behind college math is supposedly to be "a well rounded individual." Ha! The evil masters in high offices in supposedly wealthy (but honestly broke) private institutions are seriously just cooking up ways to bring your GPA down. But thankfully, the two hardest classes of my freshman year (and hopefully my education) are finished. Life as it is meant to be lived can rebegin. Here's how I got through math (maybe not with flying colors, but I didn't get Ds either!).

1) I bawled. This always works. It's not productive and it breaks a principle rule of mathematics; "stay emotionally unattached to the problem, work through it logically." Nonetheless, I bawled, whined, whinged, screamed, yelled. It didn't help, but it felt real good at the moment.

2) Drink coffee. This is the world's fundamental problem solver and coffee must be consumed interchangeably with extended period of rest (naps).

3) Pull late hours. College requires many late hours, but math requires late hours to the 10th power (ie. a whole lot).

4) Draw up a schedule and stick to it. I derived much joy calculating the number of lessons, and then creating a work plan to get through the material. What's more, you stick to the plan. Nothing interrupts the plan. You don't skip a day. You don't call in sick. You cancel other activities and rearrange your days because you have made an oath to stick to the plan. If you don't, the joke's on you buddy because you're the only one to blame for your poor timing and lack of commitment.

Math has ended, now I continue my education by beginning my sophomore year and look forward to the era when I shall be able to select more of my own classes, and let the lofty mortals with the PhD's watch me with envy as I pursue my own interests.

How to Understand Multiculturalism and TCKs

Multiculturalism is hardly new. It's as old as time, beginning with human migrations and continuing stronger then ever today.

Multiculturalism involves the ability to see the world through global lenses. It's about going beyond your home country to seeing the world objectively on a global scale. Sometimes it's a choice. For other people, it's inevitable. We all have our loyalties, but with globalization we have American insurance companies connecting to Bangalore telephone operators. Multiculturalism is free from bias and prejudice with it's very foundation rooted in respect for other cultures and people groups.

Kids who've grown up overseas are described as multicultural. They look like you, may speak like you, but they can be different inside. They've grown up learning to respect people from different parts of the world and incorporating diversity into their own lives. American boys play rugby, German kids study US history, kids enjoy music in languages they don't understand, and debate the name for the container holding unwanted items (the "bin" vs. "trash can" argument). They marry people from other parts of the world, attend universities continents away from "home" and keep books in foreign languages on their nightstands. Without even trying, their worlds incorporate diversity which becomes completely normal, even fundamental to their lives.

Because of their multiculturalism, there comes the nasty awakening to how they don't fit in just anywhere because of their intrinsically different views. It's not a conscience decision. I've met little 8 and 10 year old TCKs who sadly tell me how their friends back "home" don't understand them and they don't understand why. For most TCKs they eventually sit down and decide what they want to do in life and what they're going to do with their multiculturalism. Questions like "where is home?" 'where do I belong?" and "will I always be different?" are just a few they're forced to work though. Some TCKs stay overseas after varsity, letting their innate international knowledge soar in it's home environment. They're more comfortable in overseas settings. A majority of TCKs move back to their home countries and apply their adaptability skills to becoming citizens of the countries they're from.

As a TCKs, I discovered multiculturalism the hard way. In some circles it's appreciated, in others I'm expected to be "normal." In our modern world of globalization, multiculturalism is increasingly valued. In the world of overseas life, you're required to respect and wholeheartedly attempt to understand other cultures. These attributes would serve anyone well in life! Multiculturalism is a gift. We don't always know what to do with it, but it's not a waste of time.

If you want to help us, express genuine interest in our overseas lives. We'd love to tell you about our lives and understand yours. It makes us feel more a part of your world.

How to (Really) Enjoy Paris

After living in Parisian suburbs a year, I know Paris pretty well but coming back for three weeks I discovered a few more things which enchanted me, all over again.

1) Paris by Night; sitting across from a prof I asked her how to say in French, "I'm going to visit Paris at night." "Paris by Night," she replied. Paris at night is a sweet deal, the Louvre, Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the bridges and the Champs Elysee are like nothing you've ever seen before and with the lights glittering, they can never be replaced. It's highly cool and you'll never forget the experience.

2) Chartres; Chartres is a cute little Medieval Town located south of Paris about an hour. It hosts one of the most famous cathedrals in church and architectural history. The stained glass is legendary and underrated, the town isn't visited by many tourists, and the crepes are magnificent.

3) Hit the Champs Elysee...At Night; Friday night is like nothing else with the lights and the people and the feel of life all around you, busy and happy. I didn't know the shops were open until I went at 11pm, and a majority of them are.

4) Enjoy a French movie; If your French is good enough get to a movie (smuggle in your own candy). If it's not, do it anyway because French cinema is distinctly different from American theater and worth noting.

5) Visit the parks; All the parks are second to none. If you only see Parisian parks, the trip has been well worth it. I got to hear a concert at Jardin Luxembourg on a Sunday afternoon. I adore Luxembourg, and the concert was the icing on the cake.

6) Find Paris for yourself; Some call it the City of Love, the City of Life, the City of Lights, (see the L theme, hint, hint, hint). There's a grain of truth in all of these cliches but don't expect any single one to be completely true. Feel Paris, smell it, enjoy it, taste it, get annoyed by it, and then you decide for yourself what sort of city it is.

My closing thoughts of Paris have been thus been recorded, and I return to Asia to absorb in the Far East's richest pleasures.

How to create "Malheur a Gare de l'Ouest"

One assignment in language school this past week was to write a paper regarding how this photo came to pass. The logic was to use the grammar we had just learned related to causes, sources and above all, le subjonctif (which I used only once, brilliant) and invent a story. Mine is about a drunk driver, other students decided to put him to sleep. My French isn't brilliant here, but I know enough to make a mess and this is a flavor of what we do in langauge school, mainly have a good bit of fun with what we know. Voila!

Malheur à Gare de l’Ouest

« Ce weekend, il y a eu un grand désastre à la Gare de l’Ouest quand un train à destination de Bruxelles a déraillé et a percuté la vitrine et est tombé sur la rue. C’était la première fois que quelque chose d’assez dangereux se passait à cette gare, même à Paris. L’origine de l’accident n’est pas connue mais le facteur principal pourrait être la grande vitesse du train. L’accident a eu lieu Samedi, à neuf heures du matin.

Etonnamment personne n’a été blessé. Le conducteur- qui pourrait répondre aux questions et aidait trouver la source de l’accident- est dans un coma dépris l’évent quand il était hospitalisé dans un état grave. Les autorités ont annoncé qu’ils commenceront une investigation pour trouver si l’accident était à cause de l’ivresse du conducteur. D’après ses amis et sa femme, Monsieur Jean Fillon, de Nice, âge de 45 ans, boit souvent, même le matin. Etant donné qu’il a ce passé, les autorités ont déjà commencé à questionner la capacité de Monsieur Fillon.

A présent, il y a un effort pour en lever le train de la rue à l’extérieur de la gare. A cause de ca, nous vous recommandons d’éviter la Gare l’Ouest et de fréquenter la Gare de Nord jusqu'à ce qu’il ya ait encore du calme. »

How Not to be a Tourist in Paris

There are certain things you don't do in Paris. Paris is a place to tour, but thou shalt not be a tourist. There is a shame to being a tourist, but not to tourism. There is something normal about visiting a place but you don't want to draw attention to yourself, less you be branded a tourist. My desire is to establish by this complicated paragraph that being a tourist is not preferable and all indications suggesting that you're participating in "tourist-ing" should therefore be avoided at all costs.

1) Thou shalt not read a map on a street corner. This makes people think you're lost. You don't want to be lost, not even give the impression that you're lost because honestly if you truly are lost you walk till you find a metro.

2) Thou shall not wear a baseball hat. This is for Americans mostly but it stands true for all, this is a sign of tourists which should be avoided, obviously. Futher, while you may need many items throughout the day, avoid the backpack if possible.

3) Thou shall not use a public toilet. Those are for tourists and further are disgusting. Use a McToilet (restroom at McDonalds) or a Starlet (Starbucks restrooms which do require you to purchase something).

4) Thou shall not use the tourist buses. Overpriced, bad views, crammed with people speaking all but French and...well...don't use them.

5) Thou shall not speak English loudly. Thou must attempt to speak softly, quietly, not loudly, kindly, sweetly, French-like. Speaking loud is considered rude based on the general belief that what you say on the phone or to your mate is your own private affair.

Thou shall blend in. I've neglected to note why one shouldn't be a tourist. It's more enjoyable to blend in, to be part of the culture, to integrate and experience a location from the view of the nationals who give that location the meaning it holds. That's why we try to fit in, and further we really enjoy it.

How I'm Finding Summer School

After my hectic life of the past year on three continents, balancing 15 credit hours per semester, and moving...err...three times, summer school in Paris is quite a change. There's truly only one thing I hate and that's my cronic inability to store data. I can remember my favorite brand of cheese, the 16 merto stops from Massy to central Paris, and side streets to Paris sites. All this is brilliant (or not) but I can't remember linguistic rules which would serve me well, if I could remember them that is. Exactly.

My summer language intensive program includes 53 students, 53 names, 53 stories from 8 countries, brilliant. I screwed up the placement test (too much Bollywood since my French days) so after a few adventures my retained French warrented a replacement the next class up. My class contains 14 students, some speaking brilliant French, and I sit between two American.

For coffee break, I drink tea. I speak French at mealtimes with students from United Kingdom (Wales, Scotland, Ireland, and England, I know there's a difference). I do homework in the evenings while other students laugh hysterically over YouTube videos and get high on French chocolate. I spend afternoons insuring my sister does her homework. I spend the hours between 1 and 6:50am trying to sleep. I sacrifice things I love for the sake fluency in French. What's more, I explain my life spanning several continent over and over again. Brilliant.

I thought coming back to Massy would be challenging as I'd confront memories of my time here in 2006-2007. It's not always easy but there's another valuable lesson about life overseas; we're not slaves to a place. It's what we make it, and by extension, it's what we decide to remake it. There's thing living overseas teaches you, and other lesson in overseas life.

Brillant. Bon, je vais partir et parler en français...a la prochaine...

How I spent Bastille Day

I wasn't at all disappointed when coming to France to discover I'd be here for Bastille Day. Bastille Day is French "independence day." All nations need a public celebration of national unity, the French one is about celebrating liberty from...hmm...

Bastille Day commemorates the beginning of the downfall of the Capetian dynasty and the end of an era. France's almost thousand year rule by elite aristocracy last chaired by Louis XVI and his glamorous Austrian born wife Marie Antoinette. The pent up rage of oppression hit the French population with the tipping point being the morning of July 14 1789. A mob of over 1000 people stormed the prison Bastille tearing it to the ground declaring they wanted a voice in government. Ironically Bastille was a prison for petty criminals, and the mob liberated the entire prison numbering 7 petty crime prisoners. After the storming of the Bastille, France was plunged into chaos not fully resolved until Napoleon set up a new chair in 1804. The bloody deluge did little to boost French PR abroad and it was years before they rejoined the playing field.

The site of the former Bastille is now a large roundabout in Paris; no prison, obviously. Today over 200 years later, the French democracy is fully secure and currently chaired by Nicolas Sarkozy.

Bastille Day contains certain traditions. The most well known is a military parade down the Champs Elysees, France's 5th Avenue ending at the Arc de Triomphe. The Army, Navy, Marines, Cavalry, National Guard, tanks and other military connected toys all march down shinny and decorated. The parade is led by Nicolas Sarkozy this time apparently with his visiting Syrian friend. At the end, there's a flashy flyover spraying clouds of red, white and blue in addition to showing off numerous fighter jets in formation. After the parade, you're allowed to climb over the tanks and equipment and take pictures at Napoleon’s tomb.

Bastille Day felt different from the 4th of July in the United States. It's not a "family holiday," picnics, cookouts, flags, family. There are few flags. No one dresses up in red, white and blue. In the words of a fellow student, "their flag don't mean so much to 'em like us Americans." In general, it felt like a Labor Day; a nice extra day off, nothing more. Many stores were still open and it felt like any other busy day in Paris.

Holidays are different everywhere you go. For me, it was worth it because now I can say I saw Nicolas Sarkozy. Carla Bruni Sarkozy wasn't there (promoting her new CD no doubt) so I must obviously return again one day.

How I got Back to Paris

When I flew out of Paris last August after a 5 day holiday, I was certain Paris for me had come to an end. I was sad but ready to turn my face towards new horizons. However, after a year in Zimbabwe, Pakistan and several weeks in both the USA and Zambia, I realized exactly how much Paris meant to me. I did love it there. Additionally, out of the 6 or 7 places I've lived, it was the only place I blended in, as a white girl I mean (Africa and Asia don't really work when you have blue eyes). France is a taste of beautifully preserved culture and art from another part of the world. I loved the order, the structure, and the beauty the greeted my eyes everyday in a million different forms. I loved seasons, trains, metros, recycling, funky graph paper, lilting whispers in langauges I'll never understand. I loved the people I met, friendships I still cherish.

This summer my sister and I are spending just under a month back in Paris at the same language school we attended over the academic year of 2006/2007. It's a refresher three week course my dad thought we would enjoy it after the extremely difficult challenges life in Zimbabwe presented (mainly no food, showers, water, Internet, oh don't get me going).

I recalling once being asked if I fell in love in Paris. According to popular folklore, there's something about Paris that inspires love and romance and so it's idealized as such. I did fall hopelessly in love in Paris...with an entire language. I no longer dream in French but I dream about speaking it well, fluently and using it to edify others. It's nice to be back for a bit to speak French again, improve my vocab and see just how well I'm remembering the subjunctive and conditional. Not romantic according to some, it sounds like just plan ol' work by gosh who wants to do that!! What can I say? It's is a strange city.

Bonne Journee à vous! Vive la France!

How Reentery Happened- 2008 Version

When returning from far away lands to the United States, there are always things that jump out. Going from the developing to the developed world has it's little delights and advantages you forget how much you can miss. This year, reentry has been (as always)full of little pleasures. After living in two difficult places (and scheduled to return) life on the other side of the fence is a bright shade of green (even greener since we're apparently "going green" now too).

1) I love seeing lawns. In Asia and Africa, houses are behind gates and walls and protected by guards. Here, I enjoy seeing the pretty little houses decorated and with perfectly cut grass and more often then not a crisp flag hanging to remind us what nation we're in. In my little town there's almost a competition who has their house decorated best and with the most attractive gardening. Our house is often the reported winner, as my grandparents have done a magnificent job keeping it quite adorable. Look for the cutest house in town, that's mine, thanks to them!

2) I love how people say hi when I take a walk. In Pakistan, I keep my eyes down when I pass people and generally ignore the world. You don't interact with strangers, most of all men. Yet when I take a walk around the block in my town, people say hi! People gardening, loyal walkers and joggers, kids on bikes and roller blades, we greet each other, like we're humans, like we're neighbors, like we're anglophones! Cool!

3) I love how (some) guys open the door for me. This I hope isn't simply because I'm 19, female and have mastered the magic of eyeliner, if you catch my drift. I like how we hold the door open for people, pick up keys or toys for people when they drop them, or run after someone who's dropped their hat. It has a sense of neighborly community.

4) I love how women in the dressing room give me fashion advice. It's hilarious how so many people will offer their advice when they see you obviously deliberating your choices. "Honey, it looks real nice on you."

5) I love English radio. It's almost annoying coming back and hearing such loud American accents. It hurts your ears when you're out of practice. But then you get used to it, and it's homy feeling. For my parents, it reminds them that some things never change when 60s, 70s, and 80s stuff is still playing and makes Taylor Swift and Justin Timberlake seem like preschoolers in the life of recorded music.

How to get out of Pakistan

Traveling in certain areas of the world is a challenge. Getting in and out of NYC or Paris is a piece of cake. Getting in and out of places like Islamabad or Harare give the impression you live at the end of the world. To fly from Islamabad to our small unknown little town in Upstate New York is quite and adventure. My recent trip for home leave (as can be expected) was no exception.

Leave Pakistan. This is easy. Get on a plane. Yet flights fly at strange hours and our flight left at 4am meaning getting to the airport at 2am which is less then ideal but we refrain from whinging. The nearest accessible hub from Islamabad is Dubai which is where we take our 3 hour flight to.

Kill Time. Emirates is famous for long layovers and travelers are destined by airline to spend hours in the Dubai airport. The terminal has certain areas where passengers informally congregate on the floor attempting to sleep off the layover and jetleg. We had hotel vouchers so we spent part of our 18 hour layover sleeping in comfortable beds in the city. The rest of the time we spent on a desert safari tour, the highlight being driving up and down sand doons. A BBQ dinner, camel rides, Arabian dancing and 4 cans of Pepsi all enjoyed in the desert round out the evening before heading back to the airport for our midnight flight to Amsterdam.

Enjoy European Perfume. After the 6 hour flight from Dubai on Dutch carrier KLM, you arrive in what I've nominated Europe's finest airport, Amsterdam. It's organized beautifully, has a distinguished non-chaotic sophistication and is a delightful place to kill a little time, or 3 hours to be exact. One of the most important stops in the terminal is the perfume shop, and after sampling the latest labels touted by Kate Winslet and Sarah Jessica Parker, spraying on the tester to cover the famous traveler's scent touted by cross continental travelers.

Prepare, for the worst. Immigration into the United States is unpleasant, sometimes mean but that's just the way it is (ie. you've got to deal with it, it's the world we live in). We make our American entry in Detroit since our carrier is Northwest, we've been doing Detroit for going on 6 years and know it well. After the decently painless immigration process, we fulful the tradition of a McDonalds snack at a gate across from a mammoth screen TV blaring Americans news in American accents. There's a shuttle service which runs the length of the terminal, which my bros and I ride back and forth to kill time.

Puke bag. The jet from Detroit to our upstate New York home often induces "motion discomfort" as the end of the epic journey arrives. It's an hour long flight which everyone without a doubt sleeps through because they're exhausted.

The end arrives. It's not a bad trip and now with personal TVs on the flights, it's easy to catch up on the latest movies and music so the flight time goes by fast. It's a long trip though and when you finally arrive you're dirty (maybe sandy from the Arabian desert). When you crash on your bed finally home, it can almost seem worth it.

How to Classify Stare Tactics

Recently Hilary Duff released a song titled "Dreamer" telling the saga of her personal stalker. "Don't you have better things to do with your life, then hang around and stare at me and complicate mine? Your eyes must burn so bad 'cuz you haven't blinked, you and me will never be if that's what you think." This had to reminded me of another inevitable factor of life overseas. You're stared at...constantly. When you don't fit in, you obviously warrant a few decreet looks. In certain cultures, you warrant a very open look. In others, your "other-ness" deserves X-ray vision stares. I have learned there are several different ways of being stared at.

The French Stare; The French are very clever, they've mastered the stare. I occasionally got the obvious three second run down from other girls who judged my hair down to my shoes (it's a global fashion hub, what else?). The French know how to get a good look at you in such a way that you don't know it. I knew I was being stared at through that strange sixth human sense, but they were masters at hiding it and moving on before you pinpointed who it was. The only exceptions are girls hanging off their boyfriends and want you to clearly understand they are somebody because they're with somebody. Response? Live you're life, just ignore it, you'll rarely pinpoint the person and it's not aggressive.

The African Stare; The African stare can be generally applied to the continent. After living in Kenya, Zimbabwe and Zambia (and visiting South Africa and Tanzania) I found stare tactics were more or less the same. People stare, openly and unashamed in curiosity. Sometimes it seems people fall alseep watching you. Infrequently you can even stare people down and they'll look away amused you were so obviously annoyed. Other times they'll plant their hands on their hips and follow you with your eyes as if you were a novelty. Response? Pretend you're either Posh or Becks, if you're treated like a star, pretend you are a star and play the part.

The American Stare; Like all good little American kids, I was educated in what was acceptable, "Don't stare! Don't point! It's rude!" However, when I got older I realized we stare, a little bit. We don't flat out gape because like our parent's taught us, it's rude. But we discretely cast eyes over our shoulders and get a good second look. Unlike other cultures, we bounce our eyes when we're finished as it's embarrassing to be caught staring. The acquisition of a second look is common, especially common in my dad's upstate New York hometown where everyone knows everyone and are quick to notice you're an oddball. Response? This staring is easily ignored and if you take it personally, it's wise not to leave the United States.

The Chinese Stare; During my encounter with China which spanned two years and began 10 years ago this summer, I was rudely thrown into the worse culture shock a child could discover. We were mobbed, people were so excited to see us but it was overwheming. My cheeks were pinched, my hair was pawed through, my nose was pulled, I was petted and cooed over along with my three siblings. Granted I was 9 years old but the Chinese have little idea of personal space and privacy and have no problem reaching out and touching you, even as an adult. It's very friendly, but not something Westerners will know how to stomach. We placed a sign on my baby brothers strollers saying in Chinese "Please don't touch my baby thank you," as if he were a zoo attraction. Response? Don't go outside, hibernate, learn the "off hours" or don't go.

So how does one deal with "dreamers?" Basically, learn to be an attraction. Don't be mean and unfriendly, and if it bothers you, don't go outside. You can try to blend in, you remain friendly and you remind yourself "Well I did move here so I guess I'm asking for it!"

How to Write a Memoir

Some dude's memoirs. He got the memo, nothing grand, just the memories.

Memoirs are a vague concept but there’s a general understanding everyone should write one at some point. Another understanding is that future generations will want to know about our lives and worlds therefore we must solidify our world for them. But today flipping though travel journals I put together several years, I’m so glad I made them! I value those journals hugely thus I deduct that...memoirs and journals are for me as much as anyone.

Writing a memoir seems like such work. No one has the time for that! And when you’re still in college, the old age decided to writing a memoir is decades off. Still, memoirs are for everyone and everyone should be a letter effort into preserving their memories.

1) If it was significant, write it down. If something important happened or you were delighted by something, write a short paragraph about what your impressions were. It’s easy to save it to a Word document or put it in a notebook. One day you can paste in the facts, the first impressions are priceless.
2) Save old emails. I’ve done this for years. I copy the the generic sections "I did xyz and thought abc about it" and paste it to a file on my computer for future journal material. In emails you write out what you visited, what you ate, who you saw, nearly everything! You can cut sections out of emails and paste them in your journal, or use them as a base and expand on them.
3) Just do a travel journal or a month journal. Write down what you saw on a trip or what you did for a month, just a tiny window on life, nothing huge!
4) Keep photos, postcards, ticket stubs, letters, newspaper clippings, bits of life. You’ll want to have those in your memoirs and for the memories. You can paste them in a journal or like me, keep them in a box.
5) Try a blog (obviously)!

This is just for starters. Memoirs need source material so give yourself lots of material to source from and remember, you’ll want those memoirs as much as anyone else one day. That one day can even be the next year!

How to Talk “Nomadically:” Part I

There are a few inside words overseas dwellers use. We’ve got our own secret lingo we ramble off with other overseas dwellers often unaware that anyone else hasn't a clue what where talking about. When returning to home cultures, we closet nomadic lingo until returning to overseas life. I’ll share the linguistic theory behind a few well known clichés.

TCK: Third Culture Kid. This is an extremely common acronym deserving first place in our linguistic lesson. I identify myself as an ATCK; adult third culture kid. I’m American, but I’ve got a lot of other cultures mixed in but I’m hardly French, Kenyan or Chinese. I was raised in a “third culture.” This word is relatively new to the docket originating from the popular book, “Third Culture Kid Experience.” It was indirectly coined to include all kids whose parents worked in the humanitarian sector, businesses, and diplomacy. Traditional terms still exist such as “MK” (missionary kid) or military brat.

Expatriate: Most the time it’s just “expat.” The origin of this word refers to a patriot (citizen) who is living outside his own country. Whatever your nationality is and wherever you end up in the globe, if it’s not you’re home country, you’re an expat.

Global Nomad: A global nomad is simply someone who moves around….a lot…globally. This term is used in book titles because it sounds cryptic and mysterious. Global nomads generally have a home, but it takes them several minutes to remember where it is.

Chameleon: We all know that chameleons have the ability to change color and blend into any environment. It’s much the same for expats and specifically TCKs who subconsciously develop the ability to slide into a culture, picking up the norms, taboos and language. A proper chameleon typically resides in a country where his ethnic origins also blend in. Infrequently the noun is used as a verb...I chameleoned, you’re chameleon-ing…

Bushy or Bushie: This is an African expression. "Real" missionaries in the traditional understanding are bushies. It’s a term applied to expats living in the bush far from suburban capitals making their own yogurt and letting the toddler run naked in the dirt with village kids. “Oh you were a bushy,” and “She is so NOT a bush girl” might pop up in the right circles.

Stareist: This is really just a family term but I’ll throw it in as a bonus. We coined it ourselves to properly accommodate individuals of our host country who can't seem to stop staring at us. "There's a stareist on the left there," "Heads up there's a group of stareist coming up so look like you're talking to me."

Those are the main ones, but they’ll dawn on me as I’m drifting off to sleep tonight so a second installment will arrive…someday.