Oh, Amsterdam

I wish I had more time in Amsterdam. That's my biggest complaint.

Other than far too little time to see and do everything we planned, Livy, Emily and I had a fantastic weekend in Amsterdam. Seeing Livy was great -- Thanksgiving really made me miss being back home, and spending time with a friend from Atlanta was the perfect remedy. We had planned to meet in Amsterdam months prior to our separate study abroad departures; it was surreal for the long-awaited reunion to finally happen.

Although Amsterdam isn't very big, we got hopelessly lost again and again (try navigating your way around canals and streets with names like Zanapaderkstokken). Unfortunately, due to our poor navigational skills and the fact that we had less than two days there, we didn't get to visit many major tourist sites -- missing the Anne Frank house was the biggest let down -- but we did make it to the Van Gogh and Rembrandt museums.

Amsterdam is such a bizarre and interesting city. As Livy noted, the fact that it isn't car-centric adds an entirely different feel to the place. Bikes dominate the streets, canals run alongside roads, and it's really difficult to tell when sidewalks end and bike lanes and tram tracks begin. All of the buildings are meticulously symmetrical although many of them are now leaning from age. Locals are really friendly and helpful. Instead of bars and streets being packed with drunk partiers, places are populated by chilled-out stoners, which creates an entirely different atmosphere. In the red-light district people walk past women clad only in underwear without batting an eye.

It seems like almost everything in Amsterdam is a little off, different for the sake of being different. While walking home last night we passed a garbage truck on the street. A man hopped off the back and, instead of emptying the trash can by dumping it into the back of the truck, he began to suck up the trash with a giant vacuum-like hose. It was the most bizarre, ingenious invention I'd ever seen being used in everyday life. That moment summed up Amsterdam perfectly for me.

It's easy to forget that some people come to Amsterdam for reasons other than drugs or sex, as it's become so associated with those vices. It's an absolutely gorgeous city. The canals are charming and reflect light beautifully. There are amazing museums and stunning buildings. Of course, social norms in Amsterdam are completely different, and it's extremely interesting to witness.

I just wish I had more time. A return trip, perhaps?

No pun intended. Haha.

Easy

It's not hard to come up with things I'm thankful for this year. The only regret I have is that I can't be with family to celebrate.

My flatmates and a few additional American students put together a lovely Thanksgiving feast tonight: turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, apple and pumpkin pie, green bean casserole, cheese and crackers, wine, gravy, salad, and mashed potatoes (my exciting contribution). It was a valiant effort, and I was glad to have friends to spend the evening with.

I'm leaving for Amsterdam in six hours. I need to go to bed, I suppose. Will update on my weekend once I return.

Happy Thanksgiving. I truly do miss everyone back home.

Another traveling song

Before I left for London, my boss at The Carter Center -- a man I have grown to completely respect and admire for his achievements and passion -- gave me some wonderful advice: "No matter what, don't get jaded." Having done his share of world travel, he told me that I would see endless breathtaking sights and visit countless incredible places. He told me to never, ever let myself say, "Oh, another castle."

With less than a month left until I return home, I'm incredibly pleased to say that I don't feel jaded at all. My heart still skips a beat every time I get a fantastic view of London, museums continue to inspire me, and I keep falling in love over and over again with beautiful parks and gardens. The more I see, the more I want to see. The more I experience, the greater my dreams become.

On Friday, I leave for Amsterdam. I'm traveling with Emily and meeting my friend Livy, who's been studying in Prague this semester. I haven't seen him since the summer and Amsterdam will be a surreal location for a reunion. Ever since my parents went, I've been dying to visit Amsterdam. A city organized by canals and populated by bicyles and symmetrical buildings is interesting enough -- when you add the fact that it's one of the most liberal cities in the world, it becomes irresistible. People joke about going to the Netherlands for a cultural experience, but I truthfully am looking forward to visiting some amazing museums. It should be an excellent weekend.

Tomorrow, of course, is Thanksgiving. I don't feel as homesick as I expected to, possibly because it's easy to forget what day it is when there aren't constant reminders around. That being said, I'll definitely miss home more than ever tomorrow. Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite holidays, not because of the food or the football (hah), but because of the wholesome family time. Maybe it's because Thanksiving is less commericalized than Christmas, but the family gatherings seem somewhat less forced and more meaningful to me. (For family reading this, I better be mentioned at least once during the thankful alphabet.)

I feel like once I return to Georgia I'll want to stay put for a while. Traveling can get exhausting, and I've been fighting an overwhelming urge to call some place "home." Things may change, but I'm tentatively planning on staying at Georgia State (and, preferrably, in as few accommodations as possible) until graduation. After that, I'm itching to move to New York. No need to get ahead of myself, though.

The other side

I just re-read my September 23 entry, written one month after I arrived overseas. Today marks exactly one month until I return to Atlanta. Thinking about it makes me feel really conflicted, a bit sad, and somewhat nervous. I remember being more nervous about traveling on my own than I was studying abroad, and it seems really bizarre to be nervous about coming home.

When I think about it, though, my fears are substantiated. I have experienced (and have a month remaining of) an absolutely life-changing, invaluable, words-can't-do-it-justice time here. I have made so many incredible friends, become more confident and independent than I ever could imagine, and learned to trust and believe in myself. I have seen more of the world than I ever expected to in a lifetime, been exposed to an intoxicating mix of viewpoints and cultures, and seen how exciting and fulfilling life can be. I have learned a great deal about myself, gotten a glimpse of the future, and discovered who is trustworthy and truly important to me. I have matured, dealt with homesickness and heartbreak, and figured out how to make the most of bad situations.

My biggest fear is that I will lose all of this when I come home. Sure, I worry about missing London and being bored and uninspired in Atlanta. I worry that I won't make friends as easily as I did here. Most of all, though, I worry that all of this growing and experiencing may be lost when I return home. I will be moving to a new place when I return -- I have no idea where -- and will be in a semi-new environment. The environment here was completely new. Being in a familiar environment, but one where things and people have changed, seems unsettling.

Maybe I'm worrying about nothing. I do know that I need to focus on the here and now and make the most of my dwindling days. I've still got a sizeable list of things I want to do in London and have two major trips left before I leave. Know that I'm not complaining -- I have nothing in the world to complain about. I simply want this trip to have truly affected me for the better.

Decemberists tonight with Alex. Hooray.

Reasons to celebrate

My first overseas guest left today and I'll be welcoming another in less than a week. I really enjoyed the opportunity to play tour guide and despite a few wrong turns here and there, I think I did a good job showing Stevie around. We did and saw a lot, as evidenced by how many pictures we took.

Taken from atop the Monument, some 300 steps high.

I don't exactly get to rest yet, though. Tonight is my dear flatmate Emily's birthday. Some friends are coming over for cake and drinks tonight -- nothing big. I'm planning on taking her out for a special night later this week. Just planning for and thinking about Emily's birthday has made me realize how much she means to me. Out of all the friendships I've made here, I really hope this one lasts.

The biggest reason to celebrate, however, is Kerry's acceptance into Nottingham University. It seems like a lifetime ago, but I arrived in London a week before my solo travels to spend some time with Kerry, who was scoping out Nottingham as a potential graduate school. I was honored to also visit Nottingham and was extremely impressed with the beauty and prestige of the university. We met with the head of the Theology Department and, from then on, I knew Kerry was going to be accepted. Now it's official.

Interestingly enough, Kerry spent a summer studying in London and was part of my motivation to study abroad. Then, I decided to spend a semester here, and she felt inspired to consider graduate school. Now we're motivating and inspiring each other. Soon, I will have to return to the States, but she'll be coming to the UK for a full year. Truthfully, she's made my experience here so much more meaningful and enjoyable.

So, I guess this entry is devoted to Emily and Kerry, two amazing people in my life. Thanks for everything, girls.

Keeping it together

In a way, it seems like the world is falling apart. More appropriately, it seems like the world as I know it is suffering. Soon after arriving overseas, Hurricane Katrina ravaged and destroyed the city I was born in and love. Before coming here, London became another target of terrorist bombings, and the city is still coping with the aftermath. Paris, Bordeaux, and Toulouse -- the three cities I visited in France -- are in the midst of endless arson and riots. And now, Amman is the latest victim to Al-Qaeda. Ironically, Amman was the city where we sought refuge in the Middle East, the place where we could relax in a nice hotel just blocks from those where the bombs went off.

It seems that the more I get to know the world, it becomes increasingly beautiful and ugly. Life is bittersweet, indeed.

On a more personal note, I am dealing with an extremely emotionally-trying event. On the bright side, I feel as if I'm handling things in the best way possible. Something I have been anxious about is seeing how this time overseas has changed me and will impact my course in life. Based on my response and handling of things, I've already discovered that I have become emotionally stronger and, quite possibly, wiser in the past few months. I have learned to value myself, which was something I needed to learn to do ages ago.

I did, however, need to take a "mental health day," as my coworkers would have called it. I decided to nix the trip to Wales, instead relishing a day of rest and relaxation and devoting Sunday to Stevie's last full day in London. So far, we've seen and done quite a bit. He's on his own today -- I'm anxious to see how he does.

Quite glad I decided to slow down and take a day off. Otherwise, I'd probably hit an emotional and physical collapse mid-week. As it is, I still have a lot planned ahead. Stevie leaves Monday, I've got school and volunteering and catching up with friends to do and, Jessi, my next guest from Georgia, arrives Sunday.

A favorite picture from the past few days. It's gotten bitterly cold here (cold enough to snow!) and, for the most part, the weather has been cloudy and terribly typical of England. Fortunately, Wednesday was a surprisingly gorgeous day and I took plenty of pictures as proof.

My first overseas visitor arrives tomorrow. Stevie will be staying here almost a week -- I hope I show him a good time and simultaneously do London justice. I must admit, I'm quite excited to play tour guide.

I gave a presentation last week and just finished a related paper for my Popular Cultures class. Work, wow. I nearly forgot how to get in the right mindset. I think it turned out well.

Being one of three supervisors in a room of twenty rowdy toddlers is draining but I love the feeling it gives me. I don't know why I'm so drawn to volunteer opportunities like these, but I'm sure glad that I am.

I've had barely any time to send proper correspondence to people back home. If you, dear reader, are one of those people I'm referring to, please accept my most sincere apologies.

I'm just beginning to feel the squeeze of deadlines. Papers and schoolwork, yes, but the amount of exploring and experiencing that I want (actually, need) to do is overwhelming.

Here goes.

Greatness

"We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep -- it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) knows these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more."

-- from The Hours (Michael Cunningham)

I'm pleasantly reminded why I love this novel.

I want to become something great, but doesn't everyone? More than anything, I want to make some impact on the world, whether it be through a beautiful child, or a grand idea, or words that last. It's hard to believe that all I have been given lately won't amount to something worthwhile. Then again, it's still hard for me to picture myself doing anything that can be deemed notable by the world's standards.

These aspirations aren't anything out of the ordinary, I suppose.

These formative years of college are flying by. Before I know it, they will be over, and I will be desperate for just one more semester -- to take a deep breath before the deep plunge. But, like other unknown territories I have jumped into, I will swim furiously until I eventually float along, wondering what I feared in the first place.

At least I hope that's the case.

The only thing I hate about a good book is that it leaves me inspired, wanting to write, and soon realizing that I can't find the right words for what I want to say.

When in Rome

A whirlwind weekend, indeed. It's wholly bizarre to me that I left Thursday afternoon for Rome, spent two days there, and am now back in London.

Rome is an extremely interesting and enticing city. Once the capital of the Western world, the city hardly holds the same power and prominence. That's not to say that it isn't a great place to visit. On the contrary, Rome is now an innovative mix of old and new. The world's top fashion designers are here, their stores across the street from crumbling monuments. Even billboards incorporate Roman ruins into their design, in an attempt to blend in with the unique city landscape.

The city is overrun with tourists, which is unfortunate, but ensures that nearly everyone speaks a bit of English. Rome also has more beggars than any European city I've seen. What's more, they're particularly heartwrenching. After spending a day in Vatican city, it's hard to pass a mother with her crying infant or a man with twisted legs asking for change. There are also loads of men around peddling small goods, looking to make a quick buck. These guys were particularly annoying, but I had to appreciate their entrepreneurship when it began to rain and they all whipped out umbrellas for sale.

In two days, I must have walked nearly 20 miles. The hike from St. Peter's Basilica to my hotel was nearly five miles alone. On the positive side, I spent virtually nothing on transportation and got loads of exercise. Based on all of the pizza I ate, that's a very good thing. In addition to eating and walking, I saw all of the major sights including the Colosseum, Pantheon, Spanish Steps, Palatine Hill, Fontana di Trevi, Vatican Museum (including the Sistine Chapel), and St. Peter's Basilica. One of my favorite moments during the trip was sipping a cappuchino on the rooftop terrace of Il Vittoriano, with a gorgeous view of the street and crumbling marble columns below. It was the first time I sat down, relaxed, and took it all in -- the first time it hit me that I was in Rome. As has happened many, many times during the past few months, I was supremely grateful for everything in my life.

One of the towering remains in Palantine Hill. This area was like a graveyard of ancient temples and monuments.

Ironically, leaving London (or, rather, leaving and coming back) made it seem more like home. Leaving the airport for another city made me realize how much I feel like I belong here. Riding the train home felt reassuringly normal. Everything -- the gray skies, the quaint neighborhoods, the British accents -- was familiar. Funny enough, I was even relieved to see that the cars were again driving on the right side of the road.

Rome seemed to be a world away from London, and London is a world away from Atlanta. I haven't figured out whether international travel makes the world more or less confusing. You definitely realize how complex and full of contradictions it is. The world is big and small, similar and diverse, and painfully beautiful and ugly all at once.

I don't even know how many layers of culture shock I'm going to have to adjust to by the time I get home.

Laissez les bons temps roulez

Sufjan Stevens played an absolutely breathtaking acoustic show.

The New Pornographers were so energetic and loud that our ears were ringing for the rest of the night.

And I went to Ronnie Scott's, London's world-famous jazz club, last night for a benefit concert for New Orleans musicians. The New Orleans Jazz Giants played with Charmaine Neville, and I felt like I was thousands of miles away. When they played "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans," I wanted to cry from a combination of sadness and pure joy. It wasn't a morose night, though. The band was celebrating New Orleans and were a perfect example of why the city's spirit will never die.

Also, I'm leaving for Rome in, ah ... thirty minutes.

This isn't real life. It can't be.