Daily Doses

War & Bodies

2018-04-29T21:00:00.000-04:00

Hello! It has been some time since my last post and that has been because I have been working on this post for literal months. This draft has been open on my computer and these words bouncing around my brain since the first day of our Medical Anthropology & Public Health module in February. In that time, I have been on three different continents and figured it was time to finally bite the bullet and try to put into words some of the thoughts that have been plaguing my mind.

Over the past few weeks, through lectures and seminars and readings and conversations with friends, the parallels between health and militarization have become more stark in my mind. There are a few ways, through language and action, that this relationship is hard to ignore. I am going to touch on three of them very briefly--

1. Our Bodies Are A Fortress
Think back to those high school biology days and learning about how our immune systems work. Textbooks were rife with military analogies, describing the different lines of defense and likening cells to soldiers. As a result, there is this very aggressive discourse around health and therefore illness. This aggression pins us and our bodies against anything that could be seen as "foreign" or an "invader." We donate money and run marathons and climb mountains to raise awareness and "fight" these different illnesses -- these inanimate states of being. Maybe this framing is used to remind us "who is in power" or to motivate those who are sick or to strengthen their courage. But is it always necessary or even beneficial to take such an aggressive stance? What do we say then in the case of autoimmune diseases or cancers where these "offenders" are not foreign but are apart of our own bodies? Is it always right to immediately "deploy the troops" or is there something to be learned from the old adage "you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar"? Could the way we respond to and deal with disease outbreaks or health challenges change if we re-frame our perspective of "fighting" them?

2. Procedural Medicine & Militia
Think about the ways medical professionals respond to or approach a health challenge. From my understanding, there is a relatively strict and defined procedure they follow. In addition to the procedural strictness, the power dynamic and structures of the medical profession can resemble a militaristic style. You do not question authority. You follow the procedures. You go by the book. There's a hierarchy, a chain of command, and your personal feelings on the matter cannot have any weight in the task that you set out to do.

Beyond the potentially visual resemblance between medicine and the military is the actual physical use of the military for medical purposes. This is becoming a more implemented practice and was seen with a new force in the responses to the Ebola outbreak between 2014 and 2016 - the US, the UK, and France all deployed various types and volumes of troops, in different capacities. Military involvement in health operations is not a new idea, but it is certainly growing - even China is preparing to offer their military personnel in international development or disaster response, which has brought up concerns in Southeast Asia for a number of reasons. The military can get involved for a number of reasons including -- sheer ability to take on the logistical challenge, reach, and strategy (recall a common US military mission to "win the hearts and minds"). There are, of course, both benefits and challenges to military involvement in health; as it becomes more common, more research is being conducted on how these benefits and challenges measure up and international guidelines are being formed.

3. Colonialism, Oppression, & Health As A Strategy
This last relationship has been the toughest for me to come to terms with. The idea that globalization may not be a good thing. That the field of "international development" in some ways perpetuates the same standards and roles of the dark period of colonialism and exploitation. In this field and in our global health interventions, we come into a community and in some ways completely uproot their practices in favor of what we have deemed is the "right way" to do things. We do this for the benefit of these people and therefore the world, we justify. But this is incredibly similar to common sentiments of the British or the French less than a century ago. In many instances, international health missions share similarities and reflect the legacies of colonialism and its dynamic of domination and dependence*. “Civilizing missions” of the colonial period were considered to be done for the benefit of the local population. For example, a thought process among French authorities after building a hospital in Algiers could be something along the lines of “This is what we have done for the people of this country; this country owes us everything; were it not for us, there would be no country”**. The benefits of providing health technologies or medicines was seen to justify their continued literal and metaphorical exploitation of the country.

Most of the world’s first experience with Western medicine was with colonial medicine*. This history impacts the perception of medicine and foreign intervention in a health crisis and could in part explain the community resistance and mistrust that was common throughout the Ebola epidemic, for example***. At the beginning of the year when I was searching for a research project, I found myself wondering why the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, as a leader in global health, had so few projects and connections in South America. Soon after, someone pointed out to me that the majority of the work carried out by LSHTM is in countries that were once under British colonial rule. These are the countries with which the UK has connections and "relationships" so it makes sense that an institution is able to set up and pursue research in these settings. It is also difficult to ignore that the international partnerships that were formed in the Ebola response echoed the period of colonization – the French aid to Guinea, the British aid to Sierra Leone, and the American aid to Liberia. Consequentially, the response in the three West African nations was slightly different and reflected the priorities and practices of each of their international counterparts.

In addition to responding to health crises in patterns that reflect colonialism, globalization in regards to health also looks like enforcing the "Western standard of medicine" (also termed "biomedicine") in communities that may not actually want it. The groups that come in to provide this aid invariably come from the same handful of nations that are in power and have been in power for the majority of the last few centuries. And while they often claim to work in the interest of the entire globe, this is not always applied in practice. Take the Indonesian influenza virus strain controversy of 2006. There is a mechanism in place that has nations from around the world, especially where influenza is quite rampant or virulent, share strains of their viruses in order to develop that year's influenza vaccine. In this year, instead of just handing over the virus strains as expected (and pressured) the Indonesian Minister of Health asked that x number of doses of the vaccine go to Indonesia (to vaccinate healthcare workers, the vulnerable, etc.). They were told "No, there are no more vaccine doses - they have already been reserved/purchased by other parties." But Indonesia did not roll over. They demanded the same access to the vaccine which would not even exist without their contribution. The international community was quick to attack Indonesia, citing their actions as an aggressive threat to global health security when all they wanted was to be heard. This is just one example of how power dynamics have taken advantage of already disadvantaged populations and the manipulation of health as a strategy.

This has been a bit more text than I originally planned, and yet it still just barely scratches the surface of some really complex issues. If you made it through this quasi-lecture: kudos, and thank you! Sharing some of these thoughts with colleagues has already led to some really interesting conversations while driving down the country roads of Northern Ireland or sitting in a coffee shop connected to my university on Tavistock Place and I am very keen to have more of these conversations if you have any thoughts to share. Personally, thinking about the relationship between international development, globalization, and post-colonialism has raised many questions for me about the field I have long aspired to join. I am getting a bit of a taste of it right now as I complete my first week of fieldwork in Sierra Leone and hope to share a bit more about this experience (and maybe more musings on my career identity crisis) soon!

*Keller, R. (2006). Geographies of Power, Legacies of Mistrust: Colonial Medicine in the Global Present. Historical Geography, 34, pp.26-48.

**Fanon, F. (1965). Medicine and Colonialism. In: A Dying Colonialism. New York: Grove, pp.121-145.

***Enria, L., Lees, S., Smout, E., Mooney, T., Tengbeh, A., Leigh, B., Greenwood, B., Watson-Jones, D. and Larson, H. (2016). Power, fairness and trust: understanding and engaging with vaccine trial participants and communities in the setting up the EBOVAC-Salone vaccine trial in Sierra Leone. BMC Public Health, [online] 16(1). Available at: http://europepmc.org/articles/PMC5100248 [Accessed 4 Apr. 2018].

Clear Eyes, Ful(bright) Hearts, Can't Lose

2018-03-23T19:52:00.003-04:00

This is my 100th post! For the last six weeks, I have been working on a different post that I thought would be my 100th post. I haven't shared anything since the end of the last term because I was holding this centenary post to a much higher standard than I usually do. But, today is an anniversary that I cannot ignore and in light of it I would like to share a bit of a recap of the last six months.

One year ago, as the end of my final spring break loomed closer and closer, I opened an email that I immediately assumed was a joke or a mistake. I exclaimed excitedly and repeatedly from the living room while my mom was on a conference call and my dad listened to the radio at the end of the hall. Despite telling the interview panel that I would spend a hypothetical free day in London while on this cultural exchange mission by actually flying to Madrid, I was offered the opportunity to embark on a mission of academic and cultural enrichment with the Fulbright US-UK Commission and the Royal Veterinary College.

The past six months in London have been remarkable and eye-opening in more ways than one. While I have certainly had multiple "what am I doing with my life?!" crises, my time in London has felt like multiple puzzle pieces of my life coming together -- learning how to "adult" with bank accounts and taxes and groceries and responsibility; being introduced to the worlds of academia, global health, international development, etc.; facing vulnerability and fear; reading new and (hopefully) different perspectives. I've learned to say "yes" to as much as possible without planning to back out or bail before I have even committed to it. I'm beginning to be confident in my knowledge and expertise in this academic field that continues to show me how little I know. I've become more comfortable both with silence and with breaking that silence when necessary. Someone out there might say my life's slices of Swiss cheese are lining up swell.

While it is so easy to feel like this time is flying by and I'm not doing enough, I want to reflect a bit on some of the amazing times and laughs I've shared with the new communities around me.

These experiences have been eye-opening and clichely life-changing. From books that have told stories I couldn't believe to academic lectures that have completely changed my perspective on the field I aim to work in to places and cliffs that have had me question the meaning of the universe. Considering how much has happened in such a short period of time, I cannot imagine what else is in store for the next six months. In two days, I'll be on my first solo-trip in Spain (the country of my dreams, obviously I had to make good on that interview promise!). And in one month, I will be heading to Sierra Leone for 30 days to conduct fieldwork for my Masters dissertation!!! I am terrified and excited and terribly anxious for this experience that I have been anticipating for a long time -- much like how I felt before heading to the UK last September.

And while all these events and experiences have been significant in and of themselves, what has made them so remarkable has been the people surrounding me. The family I have gained through Fulbright (and the One Health cohort!) has been more valuable than any city-walk or symposium could ever be. These individuals challenge and inspire me every day with the work they do and their passion for education, politics, business, sustainability, disease control, and service for the greater good. And while I had every intention of being intimidated out of my mind by this cohort (and most days I really am), I am blessed with their humility and compassion and, of course, humor. Thank you, Fulbright Fam, for making this experience about more than going to class every day and reading scientific journals every night. Thank you for challenging me to travel solo and cheering me on through my fieldwork anxieties. Most importantly, thank you for six months of home-cooked dinners, rain-filled hikes, book clubs, birthday celebrations, couches to sleep on, and lively debates about capitalism or leprosy or gender equality. I am enthusiastic to continue to learn from you -- overseas or stateside or anywhere in between.

It's Not Okay

2017-12-18T16:11:00.003-05:00

You may have noticed the frequency with which I share things on social media has increased quite a bit over the past few months. Beginning with the occasional “I try not to share political or controversial posts” to including my own angry tirades. I have found that it’s no longer acceptable to remain quiet. Attempting to avoid controversy in favor of complacency is, in my opinion, just as bad as perpetuating the injustice itself.

I can’t quite pinpoint the moment of change in the last year that has led me to feel more confident and unashamed to share my opinion. It could be the disappointment of the 2016 election cycle. It could be the newfound confidence of a new life in London. It could be the frequency with which intellectual conversations arise, forcing me to find and understand my own opinion. It could be the string of headlines from tax reform to sexual assault, tugging me back home. Or it could be from spending all of my time at a vet school.

Whatever it is, it has been enough to allow me to say with conviction that there are some serious issues today that we take for granted that are not okay.

The largest tax reform in 30 years passed the House and the Senate. Codifying changes that disproportionately benefit the wealthy under the auspices of being better for working class. A multiple hundred page document that was rushed through the Senate in such a shady way that there were literally illegible edits scribbled in the margins. A bill that does not represent the majority.

This is not okay.

Then President Trump made an announcement to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, throwing into jeopardy the already rocky and perilous conditions of the people that live in the region. Spurring protests and more violence against people who already struggle to survive.

This is not okay.

In this time, women around the nation are coming forward about their experiences with sexual assault and are being met with everything from support and advocacy to indifference and character defamation. Media moguls and senators alike are being held accountable, investigated, or stepping down. Some (very few) may even be coming forward to admit they are part of the problem. Meanwhile, the current POTUS is a man who admitted to and bragged about assaulting various women, and yet there have been no repercussions, no questions asked, no investigations, just acceptance.

This is not okay.

And on that note, there are thousands of cases of sexual harassment every day that are not reported--that are a part of every day life for millions of women around the world. Cat-callers and snide remarks, telling a woman walking down the street to smile more, a "free" cup of coffee that comes with the price of making you uncomfortable in a public space, relentlessly knocking on the window of the restaurant you're eating at.

This is not okay.

Last week, I watched this documentary about Dolores Huerta (an amazing and incredible civil rights leaders I'm ashamed to never have learned about in school). At one point in the film, as non-violent protesters are being beaten, we hear President George H.W. Bush narrate "America is never wholly herself unless she is engaged in high moral principle." This is a sentiment I pray to be true, but it is hard to believe it in the hypocrisy of some of our practice. In the disparities across the country largely based in race, in the preference of policies benefiting the rich or large businesses and ignoring the poor or working class, in the way we teach and talk about--or more accurately don't teach or talk about--"the ugly side" of our history (see: slavery, civil rights movements, military interventions of the 20th century, etc.).

This is not okay.

It is too easy to turn a blind eye to these seemingly small injustices. It is too easy to say that if it doesn't affect you, it doesn't matter. If nothing else, remember the lines from Martin Niemoller's poem:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me --
and there was no one left to speak for me.

I urge you to speak out. You don't have to be a crusader or this century's activist to speak out when something is just humanely wrong. Do something small--inform yourself on the issue, educate others, VOTE. For the love of all that is good and democratic, vote on Election Day in 323 days and every election day after that. Hold your elected officials accountable to actually represent the people they are supposed to represent and not their own interests (see: Georgia's Campus Carry, the recent federal tax bill, etc.).

Sometimes it feels a little like the world is falling apart. But that implies that things were fine before, that the world was in one piece in the first place, which I don't think is necessarily true. Many of these problems have been problems for a while. We are just now starting to recognize them, to talk about them in new ways. And while it is devastating to read the headlines and to watch the violence and to remember the sick, the dying, and the dead, maybe this apocalyptic discourse will spur us from talking about it to acting on it. To kick us out of this complacency with the injustices of the world and to say they are not okay.

The Roads We Take

2017-11-24T17:26:00.004-05:00

Let's talk about pathways.

And don't worry, I'll try to steer this away from the typical "Sara failed (again) and now needs to justify why that's okay on a public forum with a punny name" post.

Nah, we're going to talk about infectious disease emergence.

And there may or may not be some relevant personal life anecdotes thrown in there. We'll see where it goes.

When we talk about emerging infectious diseases we are talking about a disease that is either appearing in a population for the first time, rapidly increasing in incidence, or expanding in geographic range. Often times, pathogen emergence is associated with cross-species transmission, or "host-jumping," meaning the pathogen (virus, bacteria, etc.) that is usually found in one species now finds another species to be an equally (or more) hospitable environment.

There are three stages of pathogen emergence in a new host:
1. Spillover
2. Limited transmission
3. Sustained onward transmission (this is when it becomes an epidemic)

In class, we have been talking about these processes. Very specific mutations or situations must line up to allow a spillover to occur or to sustain transmission in the population--sometimes to the extent that the disease becomes endemic, like with HIV (*cough the Swiss Cheese model is everywhere cough*). In short, so much has to happen for these pathogens to emerge--and yet disease emergence is not a "new" concept. At least 30 new diseases have emerged in the last 20 years (most of which are zoonotic) and many of these have had pretty drastic impacts (case and point: Ebola).

When these crises emerge, it is so important to be able to respond to them quickly and efficiently. This means strengthening preparedness measures, especially in the poorest communities that are hit the hardest. It means prioritizing these tools and infrastructure development now for something unknown in the future.

But if you look at what is actually on the agenda, what has the strongest political weight, you'll see that it isn't usually preparedness and prevention work. We tend to follow more of a crisis-response mechanism, working to control or limit or treat an outbreak only when it pops up and draws our attention. This makes sense because prioritizing a future generation or population or state that does not yet exist is a difficult economic argument to make. Comparing today's costs and benefits with tomorrow's is like comparing apples and oranges. This balance of arguing for future affairs with immediate resources has become more and more interesting to me over the last few years (and I'm going to stop myself here and save this for another post before I go down the rabbit hole of generational time preferences and health policy).

Switching gears a bit, I read this line in The Unbearable Lightness of Being a few weeks ago that rang so true I wrote it down and it's been bouncing around in my head, with increasing volume, over the past few days: "The thing that gives our every move its meaning is always totally unknown to us." The author describes the man who is motivated by celebrity and fame but doesn't know what those things are or what they entail, yet still works towards them. And when I use the term "know" here I don't mean to be aware of or to understand something, I mean to be something or to have personal and real experience. The student applying for medical school doesn't know what it is like to be a doctor, yet still soldiers on in preparation. The decision-maker today cannot put themselves in the shoes of the future person or place they are influencing, because they do not know what it is to be that state of being. I see this in my own pursuits of education and purpose in life--wanting to be a "prestigious scholar" or to work in global health development but having no clue what it means to do so.

I think this concept of being driven by something you don't know is beautifully ironic. Because we find ourselves getting so caught up in this elusive end goal we sometimes get lost along the way--trading what we do know or currently live for something that doesn't exist. It reminds me of those platitudes that sing something along the lines of "it's the journey, not the destination." It reminds me of Robert Frost's memorialized verse "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." [In Dublin a few weekends ago, Arush forced me to take the path that is quite literally less traveled by (namely because there was no designated path), promising the resulting view would be worth it.]

And while the end goal might be an important argument in strategies for disease control and prevention, this final state is not the most imperative in our own lives.

The process, the paths, mean so much more. Why put all this stock in a target that you do not know when it's the experiences along the way--the growth, the new lessons, the changes--that actually shape that final result? I know this is a lesson that has been touted before but instead of actually listening, I found myself forcing the holes of Swiss Cheese in my life to align and point to a specified trajectory--to that "thing that gives [my] every move its meaning" but in reality is unknown.

For someone that thought she learned a lot about flexibility and being open to change over the last four years, I realized this week that I scramble and panic when I don't have a plan. So I guess this is my public declaration, a reminder to myself, repeating the words that I have heard from many consolations in the last week: it is okay to not know the final destination. In reality, so few of us do. My goal for the rest of this year then, and my time as an MSc student and a Fulbright scholar, is to explore this journey and where it takes me without trying to figure out what the next step "should" be or predict where it is supposed to lead me. To appreciate that which is in front of me instead of living in a constant state of crisis control. And to always find the little ways to love and contribute to worldly enterprise.

The Swiss Cheese Model

2017-10-30T10:58:00.000-04:00

There's this concept in risk analysis called "the Swiss cheese model" that explains accidents happen when a series of events line up perfectly, like the holes in this series of Swiss cheese slices--

When each of these conditions is met, when each of these chance occurrences happen, we have a specific event. One lecturer, David Heymann, used this same concept to describe an infectious disease event or outbreak. When a variety of specific conditions exist, they give way to an infectious disease emerging or spreading. This is to say that very specific "chance occurrences" must all happen for the result (which in this case is not necessarily a positive result) to come to fruition. And what are the chances of that? (I'm sure there's an epidemiologist or statistician out there itching to give me the very technical response).

This idea of fate and chance and coincidence and prediction intrigues me. I walked by the Wellcome Trust's building the other day and every window along the block displayed a different panel of their new Infectious Pattern campaign. This work is about understanding the patterns in disease outbreaks so that we may be better equipped to respond (and prevent them) in the future. One panel is even so ambitious as to proclaim a world without infectious diseases--the plausibility of this opens up a whole other can of worms and I feel ignores a great deal of what I mentioned in my last post about the fact that we do not inhabit this planet alone and there are many other living organisms whose very existence and interactions could hinder the realization of such idealism...but their optimism is still appreciated. While we may be able to identify and predict human behavior, I think there is a certain element of fate and chance that we cannot foretell when it comes to the mutation of viruses or the migration of their vectors.

These thoughts about disease outbreak prediction have juxtaposed well with my own life and some non-disease reading I have been enjoying in the form of Milan Kundera's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. Just a few pages into this book, one character concludes "That the love story of his life exemplified not Es muss sein! (It must be so), but rather Es konnte auch anders sein (It could just as well be otherwise)." Throughout the novel, Kundera challenges Friedrich Neitzsche's concept of "eternal recurrence"--an idea that the universe and its events have already occurred and will continue to recur infinitely. And if this is so, if every action we take and every move we make is just a piece of a predetermined puzzle, then where do we find meaning? If we are just one step, one factor, in a patterned sequence, is there meaning?

What's interesting is that, even with its heavy (or "light"...get it?) philosophical underpinnings, of whether or not life is unique and occurs only once (the opposite of Neitzsche's conjecture), Kundera's story is also employing the Swiss cheese model. At its core, the story of this novel portrays love--this strong and significant power humans ascribe--as a string of coincidences. A series of events that just happen to line up perfectly. Like the holes in a series of Swiss cheese slices. Giving way to a specific and distinctive end result.

It could just as well be otherwise. That the most powerful feeling in the universe or the most destructive infectious disease or the most insignificant meet cute could be staved off or catalyzed by just one factor is awesome in the truest sense of the word. So many events happen on this conditional probability of the event preceding it. If you hadn't stopped for that morning coffee, you wouldn't have missed your bus, you wouldn't have walked the long way to class, and you wouldn't have found the most beautiful park. Or if you hadn't taken the stairs in the tube station, you wouldn't have missed the train, and you wouldn't have run into your colleague in a city of millions (where you know approximately .00034% of the population).

I'm torn between feeling these series of coincidences are just that, coincidences themselves, or the definition of fate. Either way, neither of these--coincidence nor fate--lend themselves well to measurement and predictability. But if we believe that history repeats itself, then maybe the idea of being two steps ahead of disease outbreaks isn't so farfetched after all. If we can combine both Neitzsche's and Kundera's opinions on existence--the repetition but also the uniqueness and value of each life--then maybe we end up in a place where every action and project is valued not because it happened, but because it could just as well have not.

These moments are some of my favorite pieces of Swiss cheese in my life in London right now.

Seven [Weeks] in London

2017-10-23T16:22:00.001-04:00

It's slightly unbelievable that I landed in London 7 weeks ago. I just wanted to unpack a little bit of this experience and all the feels I've had here. Many describe the international education experience as a rollercoaster. So I'm going to take you through a few highs and lows of that rollercoaster for the past seven weeks. Quick recap, a lot of things have happened. Those things include: Fulbright orientation, moving into my flat, RVC orientation, MSc One Health induction, an event at the US Embassy to welcome the new American Ambassador to the UK and celebrate our "special relationship" in relation to education, USA College Day, trips to Greenwich, Brighton, Cambridge, Oxford, Brussels, and some other Greater London 'burbs, my birthday, and many, many classes.

HIGHS
1. My Fulbright Fam -- What an incredible group of people to be associated with that make London feel like home. From reaching out to me to check in after one of my last posts to a Hampstead Heath birthday picnic, I am so grateful to be sharing this year with this crew. Other highlights with the Fulbright fam have included: Sunday exploring in Brighton/Cambridge/Oxford, seeing Much Ado About Nothing at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, and many many Indian dinners.

2. The MSc One Health gang -- It's only been about four weeks, but I have already learned so much about London, British slang, biology, and cow reproduction from these stellar coursemates. The camaraderie our group has already developed is fantastic and motivating and reminds me a little of Tech.

3. I am constantly learning -- Almost every conversation I have had in London has been a learning experience. From class discussions to chatting at meals and on trains, I am always learning something from the people around me. I learn about the different experiences of growing up or going to school/uni in the UK versus in America, I learn about the research interests of the Fulbright cohort in and a realm of academia I didn't even know existed. The frequency of such deep and intellectual conversations is awesome and I really appreciate the opportunity to learn from my peers more than I ever have before.

4. So many cool opportunities in London/the UK -- In case I wasn't sure of it before, I am now positive that this city is an incredible place to be studying (probably in almost in any field, but definitely in global health). Between Public Health England, the Royal Institution, and the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine, this city is rife with events and speakers focusing on global health. This weekend I registered for a Global Mental Health Conference and an Antimicrobial Resistance Conference and today I attended a talk given by Professor Peter Piot (who was on the front line of identifying and responding to the Ebola outbreak) evaluating our preparedness for the next epidemic.

5. Most lectures are incredibly fascinating -- I did not know three hours talking about malaria could be so riveting. Or that identifying various types of white blood cells under a microscope could elicit so much pride. But some of the lectures I have been in over the past month have literally been what I have dreamed of for years.

LOWS
1. The sun has disappeared -- My first few weeks in London were far from the norm in terms of weather. But this last week, I have finally experienced the typical London gray and been caught in some surprise rains. It is not the worst right now, but I sure will be missing the sun more and more in the next few weeks.

2. Missing homecoming -- Finding out homecoming would be a night game (aka airing at 12:30am here) was definitely one of the lower points of my last month and a half. It came just as the excitement and glamor of a new city was wearing off and the cold hard reality of school and homesickness began to set in. I had been planning to organize a viewing party for the GT network in London, but that went out the window when the time was announced. I then entered a frenzy of days where I planned every way I could possibly make it home in time without spending my entire bank account balance or missing too many classes. Eventually I had to accept that I wouldn't be able to celebrate homecoming on the flats, and I am so grateful for all the friends back home who FaceTime'd me into their homecoming experiences (shoutout to Avery, Andrew, & Jacline). I was especially glad to be able to speak (or attempt to speak over the background noise and terrible connection) to each of the Mr. & Ms. GT finalists before they took the field.

3. Some lectures are less than fascinating -- Being at school from 10 to 5 every day can definitely take its toll. Especially when every lecture is three hours long. I still haven't quite gotten the hang of the academics here and preparing for class and self-teaching are a bit of a challenge.

I am grateful for a rollercoaster that I think so far has been more highs than lows. This isn't to say that there aren't any days where I spend more time in bed than out of it and would rather watch Netflix and eat pizza than read another journal paper (because those days exist...quite often). Grad school is hard and creating a new life is hard. But this is definitely a glass half full.

"We're At War"

2017-10-17T17:44:00.003-04:00

This post has been on the tip of my tongue since our first lecture in the Foundations of One Health module over two weeks ago. As promised, I want to move away from recounting the mundane tales of my life and use this as a forum to share some of the cool things I am learning and the thoughts they provoke. (But also you can check out my next post in a week to read about my highs and lows of London in the past six weeks).

The realms of health and medicine as a science tend to be very human centric. Even the way we define a zoonotic disease (a disease from animals) is a very human focused definition--the disease is not of concern to us unless it is transmitted to AND causes illness in people. What's interesting about One Health is that its eventual purpose is to challenge this human egoism by moving the spotlight to animals, the environment, and what humans are doing to these things.

Such a post-humanism approach, as my course director described it, seems necessary when we are talking about the "big picture" of the state of the world. Today, we throw around buzz words like "conservation" and "sustainability," but our practices, our strides towards these ideals, are meaningless when we continue to put humans on a pedestal of preference and superiority.

I had never heard such a pessimistic view of sustainability before, but I think my course director had a serious point here. Our efforts for "sustainability" are mostly counterproductive and motivated by selfishness. Our goals for sustainability tend to stem from the argument that we should preserve our planets and resources to ensure our own future survival--to propagate the human race.

We tend to ignore the impacts such actions--whether those are actions promoting sustainability or conservation or those harming them--have on the many other organisms cohabitating with us on this planet. And what impact they have on us. This is where One Health comes into play. When we respond to infectious disease issues that arise, medical faculties often don't see that they may be part of the problem. Without understanding the other half of the equation--the animal hosts, vectors, and pathogens themselves where these infectious diseases actually come from--and by investing on treatment, rather than prevention, we make things more difficult in the long run.

Unfortunately, One Health and similar movements are largely led by the veterinary community. Human health professionals (and the rest of society) tend to ignore what the veterinary community already understands about our interconnectedness with animal (and plant) life. The closest we have come to acknowledging "the other half of the equation" has been a rather negative approach. Over our existence as a species, we have painted nature as this dark force to be overcome. Natural disasters devastate societies, animals (and bugs!) can make us sick, the battles go on and on. It's unpredictable. It's scary. It's evil. It's us versus them.

These attitudes towards dirt and the "wild" make it difficult to find long-lasting solutions. Instead, we slap shoddy bandaids over the problems. Case and point: antibiotics. Our abuse, misuse, overuse of antibiotics in ourselves, animals, and plants is coming back to bite us in the rise of antimicrobial resistant (AMR) strains of pathogens we've assumed as practically harmless. What does this mean? (It's amazing that antibiotics have only been in our history for the past 100 years or so. And in case you were wondering, AMR is going to be one of the biggest challenges we face over the course of this next century).

The policy realm has had a heavy hand in this framing problem. The apocalyptic discourse, the panic, the drama is what finally influences policy changes. Our paranoia and our need to control everything is probably what drives us to fight this war against diseases that we think can be defeated. The problem is that diseases don't disappear. And the fact that we do not understand the multitude of reservoir hosts these inimical pathogens find refuge in and the mechanisms by which they function prove that this war cannot be won through the silos in which we tend to work.

One Health is a response to crisis. But to be the most effective, we need to undergo this paradigm shift and see One Health solutions as a revolution in social, economic, and health systems. This will require acknowledging that human health is not just about the health of humans--our health is indefinitely intertwined with the health of our environment and animals--and not one of these is more or less important than the others. With such multi-species entanglements, it shouldn't be a question of nature versus culture. We live and die together. All of these systems must work together, like the harmonious medley of strawberries, Nutella, and waffle pictured below, to truly protect our world's health.

Getting Schooled

2017-09-26T18:49:00.001-04:00

Holy cow.
I am so far out of my comfort zone, I do not even know what zip code I'm in.
I have never felt as inadequate as I have this past week in London.
Which is really saying something considering many of us who spend any time at Georgia Tech are very familiar with feeling like everyone around you is a hundred times more intelligent, talented, and capable than you.
But as we've begun to delve into actual content in my courses at the RVC and LSHTM this week, I suddenly realize that I know very, very little. To be fair, I strongly believe the adage "If you're the smartest person in the room, you're in the wrong room" but right now I'm not even sure how I got into this room.
I have never had to simultaneously Google the definitions of simple terms while the professor is speaking as much as I did in lecture today. I have never felt like truly the weakest link in a group discussion or assignment until today. And I've never had to ask for as much clarification as I have in the past week.
On the one hand, I am incredibly proud of my policy background and still think it is vital for an interdisciplinary understanding of public health. On the other, I am thinking the studies and research my peers have completed will make them more successful and impactful in the field.
Why am I saying all these terribly negative things?
Because my biggest fears in the world are rejection and failure and despite this, the new and different situation I currently sit in is challenging me in ways I did not expect and showing me a completely different side of myself. And because the world would be a much better place if we were all committed to this type of honesty. To not be afraid to admit when we are scared or struggling. To be vulnerable with just one person so they feel they can be vulnerable with you too.
I read this quote on Matthew Trinetti's blog the other day and it reinvigorated me.“Rise the rest of your life to meet you.” There are 96 days left of 2017. That means 96 more days to get back to those New Year's Resolutions or to set some completely different goals. That's 96 more days to meet new people, to learn new things, to read new books. That's 96 more days to ask questions. (That's 96 days until I go to Paris for NYE!) With how much has happened in the past 269 days, I'm not discounting these 96 at all. I started off the year with a goal to read 52 books and honestly, I'm probably not going to achieve that. But in the past two days I have: gone for a run, asked a question in a crowded public lecture about infectious diseases, and talked to the strangers next to me in line at Nando's -- all things that may not seem significant, but are inherent proof that life won't always take you where you expect. Every day is a new adventure, an opportunity to do something different, a crossroads to take a risk. And I look forward to continuing to meet (and be surprised by) me.

Seven Sisters Cliffs (between Brighton & Eastbourne, England)
subpar picture credit: Garrett Dowd

Sara's September FAQs

2017-09-16T18:46:00.000-04:00

I thought I'd start off my first blog post from this new timezone the same way I did when I hopped over to this side of the planet two years ago: with a list of frequently asked (and now answered!) questions.

In the past twelve days, the dollar has dropped seven cents on the pound, Irma cancelled two days of classes at Tech, and I have bought and returned nine lightbulbs (and I'm not sure which of these is the most unusual). But let's jump right in.

Where is Sara?
Hey, what's up, I have relocated to the United Kingdom and now live in London! In case you are just as uncertain about the differences between England, Great Britain, Ireland, etc. as I was two weeks ago here is this nifty map to explain it:

What are you doing there?
I am here to pursue a Masters program at the Royal Veterinary College thanks to their lovely partnership with the Fulbright Program. This program was founded by Senator William J. Fulbright in 1946 to foster international educational exchange for students, scholars, professionals, and more. I am stoked to be among a cohort of 54 other American postgraduates and scholars who will be pursuing research and graduate study in the UK this year on subjects ranging from geology and dance to engineering and politics.

So you're studying to be a vet?
By far the most frequently asked question. Not quite (or at all, really). My program at the RVC is called One Health & Infectious Diseases and it's actually a joint program with the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. One health is a relatively new approach in the public health field that emphasizes the interactions between environment, animals, and humans when it comes to infectious diseases. This makes sense as 85% of our infectious diseases come from animals--hence the Royal Veterinary College's contribution to such a field.

How are you feeling?
SO MANY THINGS. Above all, I am thrilled to finally be delving into the realm of public health. It's been this far off goal that has seemed unattainable for so many years that I cannot believe I finally get to learn about it from such an intriguing and relevant perspective. Nerdy feels aside, I am excited, anxious, and everything in between about starting this new chapter in London and so far away from Georgia Tech. I send all my love to you yellow jackets back home, and know that you will definitely have a place to stay if you find yourself in London over the next year!

What are your goals for the next year?
Okay, so this isn't exactly an FAQ and I don't have a 60 item list like I did when I went to Istanbul, but I'm throwing it in here to hold myself accountable over the next year. First and foremost, I hope to take advantage of this degree program to the fullest. RVC and LSHTM are incredible facilities for the field I'm interested in and I plan to apply all that positive GT work ethic to these new campuses. I also could not ask for a better setting than London--at least three authors or researchers that I have studied in depth are based in London universities and I cannot wait to learn more from them. Second, in accordance with the Fulbright mission, I hope to engage with my local British community and serve as an American ambassador to the people I meet. Over the past four years, I have definitely learned the importance people and connections play in our lives and I think these networks and the cooperation that we can foster is vital in solving global challenges. I hope that learning from new perspectives, and contributing my own, will better my understanding as I pursue work on the global scale.

If you've made it this far, I appreciate your interest in these details of my life. I plan to challenge myself to avoid the mundane recounting of sites I visit and things I do that I have tended to blog about on my previous adventures abroad in future posts. There is so much to learn and reflect on this year and I hope to share more of that over the next year!

A War of Race and Rhetoric

2017-06-26T14:03:00.001-04:00

Generally, I attempt to stay away from sharing too many "political" posts on Facebook. I think social media can be a great place for informed and productive discussion, but more often than not the sensationalism can turn into a toxic feedback system that just further entrenches people in their own views.

You could say the past two weeks were the straw that broke the camel's back.

Between the acquittal of the police officer in the Philando Castile case and the assault and murder of 17-year old Nabra and the end of a twenty year old White House tradition that promotes diversity of religion and interfaith discussion, it has been hard to keep quiet.

I can speak about my experiences as a minority in the United States pretty openly now. But it took a long time to get to this point. In the depths of my closet, there is a box overflowing with papers and certificates from my elementary school years. There are journals filled with crude handwriting, made up stories with little plot development, and hand drawn portraits of myself colored in with the lightest shades of beige the Crayon box offered--instead of a more representative shade of slightly burnt toast. At this age, I often saw and portrayed myself as "white," the same as my peers and friends around me. I didn't recognize the differences until I was confronted by other seven year olds. "Your religion is wrong!" they accused. "You're not American!" they insisted.

And while the volume at which these accusations have been shouted has varied over the years, it has certainly increased over this past year. These exclamations reverberate throughout the country--attaching themselves to each "not white" person they reach in different ways. They are echoed in the rhetoric used by the media and politicians, the verdicts of the courts, and even the insults of school bullies.

I know that there are formal definitions of "hate crimes" versus "terrorism," but we seem to shy away from using this terminology when the perpetrators do not fit our national mental framework of "a terrorist." We often use "mental illness" as a cop out (see: Dylan Roof and London's Darren Osborne). Mental illness is obviously a serious concern that faces many stigmas throughout societies. But mental illness did not influence these people to feel that it was okay to target and attack a group of people that looked different than them. That was society's fault.

That was the fault of acquitting every single cop that was too quick to pull the trigger (four, five, six times on one person). That was the fault of validating rhetoric like "I think Islam hates us" and "The fear of Muslim people is rational" by voting or appointing those people into positions of power. (By the way, can we talk for just a second about how wrong those statements are? How can you promote and encourage a nation to be fearful of and hate the entire population of the second largest religion in the world because of the extremist acts of just a few? Do we blame the entire population of Germany for the inhumane actions of Hitler and the Nazis against Jewish, gypsy, and disabled populations?) It is the fault of thinking that the country belongs to only a select group of people. That you are right if you are the majority demographic, the traditional definition or pop culture's depiction of "an American" or a "Brit."

I think the only ways we can make progress is through individual action. It is slow work, but I pray that this domino effect takes hold as we impact each person we interact and communicate with. In the grossest oversimplification possible, we can combat ignorance and develop empathy.

1. Combatting ignorance

Donald Trump credits his victory to a divided nation. He's right about that. And his campaign showed us where that division lies. I think most of it stems from misunderstanding; this misunderstanding has often developed into hate. "2016 was an unprecedented year for hate," said Southern Poverty Law Center Senior Fellow Mark Potok. "The country saw a resurgence of white nationalism that imperils the racial progress we've made, along with the rise of a president whose policies reflect the values of white nationalists. In Steve Bannon, these extremists think they finally have an ally who has the president's ear."

Many of these sentiments are a result of pride and ignorance, and I think we can answer this with education. If there is something you don't know or someone you don't understand, it is better to engage in conversation or pursue that knowledge than to make assumptions. So much of our hate comes from the fact that we do not know the other side.

The White House missed out on an incredible opportunity to promote this type of discussion and understanding by ending the tradition of hosting a Ramadan iftar dinner this past month. (Ramadan is one of the holy months of the Islamic calendar, where Muslims fast from before sunrise to sunset by abstaining from food and drink. This month is spent in prayer and self-reflection, which has made the attacks committed by ISIS as well as those against Muslim civilians this summer even more difficult). Many applaud the administration for this decision, admiring his discard of political correctness in interacting with the "terrible and hateful religion." But this just entrenches them in their misguided view. The president says he wants to unite the country, but he just pushed 3.3 million Muslim Americans further away by sending them yet another message that they are not welcome and they are not to be celebrated.

2. Practicing empathy

We need to stop thinking we know everything. We need to stop thinking that we have every solution and that if only X did Y, ISIS would be defeated and the world would be a better place for everyone. It is not that simple. And the point I am trying to make here is not how to stop terrorism or how to physically end violence against minorities in America--because at the end of the day there are always going to be people with hate in their hearts that don't want to listen. The point is to understand the secondhand effects these actions have on other people around the world--Muslims, non-Muslims, white people, brown people, and everything in between. The point is for the people that can, the people who are even just a tad open to listening and learning from other perspectives, to please do that. To check your privilege and think before you speak. To remember that you are just one tiny piece in the world and that there is another person oceans away who is just as significant as you are. To just try for thirty seconds to understand what it would be like to have lost your entire family, to be forced out of your home, and to have nowhere to go. To believe that their faith, their true faith and not some extremist and baseless version of it, can be just as legitimate and fair as your own.

Empathy doesn't mean being blindly sympathetic to anyone facing hardship. Sometimes it requires recognizing and acknowledging that some hardships may actually be a result of differences you are unable to understand. And that is okay. Despite the many surface level differences we can point to--whether that is race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, or socioeconomic status--at the end of the day we are all unified and equal in the human race. It would do us all well to remember that.

The Fellowship Process

2017-04-12T14:18:00.003-04:00

As a Policy major, you probably expect me to write lots of term papers and long essays. And while I have spent many of the last four years learning and being challenged to complete these assignments for my courses, they pale in comparison to the 17,479 words I have written for my fellowship applications.

Everyone’s fellowship application process is different, but I started visiting the fellowships office in November of my freshman year. That was the beginning of a long and what at sometimes felt never ending string of rejections from every program I applied to. As a big fish in high school, it took me a minute to get over the initial sting of rejection. After that first rejection email in March of 2014, I began to doubt my qualifications and the master plan of my life. But then I found another cool fellowship opportunity. And soon I was back in the fellowships office seeking advice on my application.

One of the things you have probably all been told in the process is that sometimes it comes down to a bit of luck. And realizing that my lack of progression in some of these processes was not a direct reflection of my own abilities was what kept me from becoming discouraged. This last year of applying to fellowships looked very different than that first application I submitted. In the past year, the biggest lesson I’ve learned has been that you can often learn a lot more in the failure than in any success. Whether that’s in an application process, an election (or two), a competition, whatever it may be.

I learned more in the process of writing (and rewriting) my personal statement than I ever would have if I was met with success on the first go. The most valuable thing I gained in this entire experience was coming away with a better understanding of myself, my passions, and my identity. This theme of identity actually became the focal point of my favorite personal statement. When I realized my passions for pursuing knowledge and social justice came from the background I grew up with and the examples my parents set before me, everything else fell into place. Suddenly I had a compelling reason for what drives my interest in global public health. And this came about because the challenge of applying for a prestigious fellowship forced me to be candidly and vulnerably honest with myself.

I think this process of introspection is the most important part of applying to a fellowship. Because at the end of the day, your greatest success will come from being true to yourself. That means not trying to fit yourself into bullets listed under “eligibility requirements,” but finding a fellowship that fits YOU. For me, it took 17,479 words and at least fifty hours in the Dr. Meehan’s office before I did. Without Dr. Meehan’s unconditional support and positivity, the last year would not even be possible. The fellowships office and C2D2 are seriously an incredible resource that I am grateful to have found my freshman year. So thank you Dr. Meehan for the many hours spent in your office, for not being visibly disappointed when I pushed back my “internal deadline” for the third time in a week, and especially for laughing at my jokes.

At the end of the day, I have learned applying to prestigious fellowships is all about telling your story—explaining what makes you the person you are, the person you will be if you receive the fellowship (and the person you will still be without it). To all of you here today, whether you have just applied to your first fellowship or your tenth, congratulations on writing one more page of that story.

To All The "Losers"

2016-04-26T19:33:00.000-04:00

I've always had a hard time with failure. Mostly because when I grew up, I never had to deal with it. The competitive drive in me would push me further and further, because I was winning.
But in the past two weeks, I lost two elections for positions that I was incredibly passionate about. Months of work, months of planning, were thrown to the wind in less than thirty minutes. And I'm not looking for any sympathy when I tell you that I completely broke. I didn't know it was possible to feel so heartbroken by something so inanimate.
I really struggled to cope with these turns of events. When I came into Tech as a freshman, I always just assumed and expected that at some point I would take on a major leadership role and make things happen on campus. Those were also the people I had been surrounding myself with since day 1. Secondly, I have always piled so many commitments onto my plate that I felt at a loss for what to do with all this free time I would now have.

This semester, I have been reading and reflecting on Leadership on the Line for my internship. And after reading Chapters 9 and 10, I realized that my definition of leadership and my understanding of contribution over the past twelve or so years have been seriously misguided. I have definitely fallen into the trap of defining myself as the roles I play, and confusing my sense of self with the positions I have filled. Because of this, when I lost these elections the disappointment of failing was almost unbearable compounded with this incredibly overwhelming identity crisis.

I took these losses as a personal attack and direct insult on my character and abilities as a human being. I have spent years upon years defining myself by the accomplishments I can tick off on a resume, defining happiness as how many leadership roles I am entrusted with, and defining success as how exhausted or overworked I feel. Through my time to reflect over the past week, I have also recognized that there are some things about my attitude and personality that I will never be able to change—I do love being busy, I love to work, I love Georgia Tech, and I want to better the lives of the people around me. These are all qualities that I am not ashamed of. But I have learned that there are other ways to do these things—outside of the formal roles of an organization or the formal delegation of power in a position or the title you can add to your LinkedIn page. Maybe I have been slow to reaching this conclusion (it took almost 21 years), but I think I can finally appreciate that there is more to success than what you write down on paper.

One of the things I have had to do is understand how I find meaning in life. I know that my life is more than the four years I spend at Georgia Tech. I have always been incredibly concerned about and excited for the future—but sometimes I get caught up in what I need to do to get there. This was the pitfall I fell into in thinking I needed these titles in order to reach those future goals. I really loved what the authors of Leadership on the Line had to say about meaning: “Meaning derives from finding ways to love and contribute to worldly enterprise.” I interpret this to mean using your passions and unique skillset to contribute to the world’s work—whatever that may be—for me, I hope it is one day working in the field of global health and making medical technologies and infrastructure available worldwide. But instead of constantly trying to fill the roles I think I am required to and defining myself by the “leadership skills” they taught me, I can work to create my role in the world, my own sense of self. It won’t be the former president of a college organization who joins the Peace Corps or works to better health equality in developing nations—it’ll just be me, Sara, a person.

A Child of Immigrants

2015-12-11T15:10:00.001-05:00

When I was in first grade, I came home one day in tears of frustration. Flushed cheeks with uncontrollable hot streams running down my face, I sobbed to my parents: "They...keep...calling...me...Indian...but...I'm...not!!!" For a few days now, my classmates had been asserting to me that I was Indian because of my (clearly-not-white) brown skin. But I was born in America! I couldn't even speak another language! I would tell them I wasn't, but they just wouldn't listen. My parents responded coolly, attempting to ebb my ridiculous heaving sobs, "Tell them you're American with Indian blood." I liked that. And the next day, as we washed our hands before snack time, that's what my six-year-old self said in the most confident voice she could muster.

Those became very defining words in my life. I first and foremost have always considered myself an American. Even when I didn't look like my next door neighbors or celebrate the same holidays as my classmates. I was proud to rock my red, white, and blue and live the life of a typical kid growing up in the States in the early 2000s.

I had never really thought about what a privilege it was for me to have that identifier, until honestly this past week. If my parents hadn't immigrated to the United States thirty years ago, I wouldn't be proudly pronouncing myself as "the American with Indian blood." They came here with nothing. But now I'm sitting here in my on-campus room at an incredible institute for higher education. I grew up with the world in my palms--hundreds of opportunities and privileges to choose from--because my mom had just enough money to pay the $5 application fee to apply to a graduate school program in Mississippi twenty-five years ago. My mom sacrificed ease, comfort, and proximity to family because she wanted to pursue her education in a country that prides itself on making dreams a reality.

But what if she had checked just one box on those visa forms?

Do you identify as Muslim?

_✓_Yes

___No

What if she had been barred from entering the United States because of the faith she internally identifies with, a faith that she views the world through? And because of the actions of a select few throwing around the name of the same faith as their justification?

My mom was not fleeing persecution. She was not being forced out of her home, attacked by the same people her refuge may have projected her to be.

But today, there are millions of people who are. Millions of refugees from Kosovo, Syria, Afghanistan, and north African countries are losing their homes and families. They're walking hundreds of miles, they're trapped on cramped boats for weeks. And when they reach the gates to what they think is their heaven--they are turned away. They are looking to us, the country that was founded by religious refugees, for help.

How can we be so hypocritical to say no?

I am blessed. I got lucky. Beyond all those other identifiers that may bring me some slack--young, Muslim, brown, girl--this is the one that haunts me the most. I am here because of the sacrifices of family and the support of friends. I am enjoying my privileged life where the biggest hardships are my difficult finals and picking up the wrong Starbucks order. But right now, on the other side of the world there is a young, Muslim, brown girl who is dreaming of being in a classroom, of reading a textbook, of debating politics and the nature of the world.

I wish I could share this world with her. Just as I wish I could share my world, the truths of my faith, with those who have fallen to some very extreme misconceptions. Many people now believe that Islam is an inherently violent religion. That it preaches violence and murder as the answer to everything. They'll concede that the entire Muslim population is not like that, but the view they have is that the religion itself is cruel and violent. It breaks my heart to hear people associate the basis of my faith with hate.

But if there is just one thing you know about Islam, know that the first words of the Quran are "In the name of God, the Gracious and the Merciful. Praise be to God, Lord of the Worlds, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful, Master of the Book of Judgement." And everything, I mean literally everything, every lesson, every law, every pillar comes back to these words: gracious and merciful. It's a religion of peace and mercy that came to a desert ravaged by corruption and sexism in the 13th century.

I've been in an interesting position observing the duality of the world and my identifiers over the past few years. And it can be incredibly difficult when other people are telling you that the words you use to define yourself are contradictory or at war with each other. I want to be the voice that says they aren't. I can be an American, a Muslim, a woman, a student, a leader, and a follower all at the same time. In fact, each of these aspects makes me better at one or more of the others. And it is incredibly unfair and cruel to make people feel otherwise and force them to question themselves--to make them feel like there is something wrong with them because of their identifiers or, even worse, to project your own ideas and opinions on them and define their identity by your own assertions.

We are a diverse nation like no other because we are full of "Americans with _______ blood." And we are stronger for it.

[An Attempt At] Dispelling (Some) Islamophobic Assumptions

2015-09-22T23:07:00.001-04:00

About two months ago, I wrote an article about the hypocrisy of labeling hate crimes in America. I talked about how crimes committed by different types of people are often categorized as different things. I talked about how we are so quick to judge and compartmentalize a person or group of people based on their skin color or religious faith.

This is a post I have been wanting to write since the Ahmed Mohamed clock situation last week. How many 14 year olds do you know that have been arrested? And how many of those have been because their minds were plagued with curiosity, ingenuity, and a passion to create? Can you imagine how terrifying it was to be led out of your high school in handcuffs? To have no one listen to you, believe in you, or have faith in you? To be immediately cast aside as a threat, as a criminal?
This was a really tricky subject, and I had so many thoughts in my head I could not organize them into coherent sentiments. A few hours later, maybe the next day, I was so incredibly relieved to see the responses and support Ahmed was getting from all over the country.

But then later that week[end], two frontrunner GOP candidates put into formal words some sentiments that are unfortunately widespread throughout the country.

Over the past few years, Donald Trump has perhaps been one of the loudest voices of the "birthers"--the group that is adamant in their belief that President Obama was not born in the United States. Therefore it was no surprise when he encouraged a rally supporter last week for prefacing a question with "We have a problem in this country--it's called Muslims. We know our current president is one. You know he's not even an American--birth certificate, man!" Trump's response to this was "We need this question!" before the man continued to ask about what he would do about the alleged "[Muslim] training camps" that are aiming to kill all Americans. What has outraged a large population is the fact that Trump even dignified this question with an answer--he treated it as if it were a perfectly normal, acceptable, and logical concern. When GOP frontrunner John McCain was faced with an anti-Muslim rant at a town hall in 2008 and the woman claimed she could not trust Obama because "he's an Arab," he stopped the lady and said, "No, ma'am, he's a decent family man and citizen who I just happen to have disagreements with on fundamental issues. And that's what this campaign is all about."
That is respect. That is decency.

The fact that Donald Trump and Dr. Ben Carson are using these arguments and playing into this growing tide of sensationalism to garner up press and media attention and curry political favor is wrong and unfair to the population of the world's second largest religion.

Now here's the problem with Carson's statement:
This weekend Carson said, "I would not advocate that we put a Muslim in charge of this nation. I absolutely would not agree with that."
First of all, I will go ahead and recognize that as the Carson camp has been saying, he is not claiming that it would be illegal for a Muslim to run, that they should be barred from the opportunity, etc. He is voicing his own opinion, a right many in this nation often stand by or even tout from rooftops.
Secondly, I find it incredulous that this candidate would make this statement. Forty years ago, people thought an African-American could not be in the highest office of the land (#ThanksObama). Sixty years ago, the thought of a Catholic running for office was unimaginable and blasphemous (#ThanksKennedy...can that be a thing?). The fact that a candidate who has faced systemic prejudices in our society can make such a blanket statement about another group of people is incredibly disappointing.
Thirdly, this statement demonstrates the absolute ignorance and lack of knowledge Carson has on our Founding Fathers, the development of our nation, and the theoretical framework of a religion practiced by approximately 1.57 billion people worldwide. In 1821, Thomas Jefferson wrote that Virginia's religious freedom law was meant to apply to "the Jew and the Gentile, the Christian and the Mahometan [a term that used to mean Muslim], the Hindoo and the infidel of every denomination." The Founding Fathers argued this idea of freedom of religion (what it would entail, how it would be defined) to no end.

"They did so, however, not for the sake of actual Muslims, because none were known at the time to live in America. Instead, Jefferson and others defended Muslim rights for the sake of 'imagined Muslims,' the promotion of whose theoretical citizenship would prove the true universality of American rights."

Our Founding Fathers fought to guarantee the rights of a people who barely even existed in our country at the time, and yet you cannot vouch for your Muslim neighbor or childhood teacher or accountant?

Now the majority of the arguments against Ben Carson's statement are related to how the Constitution bans any religious test or requirement for a person to run for office. They say he is "on the wrong side of the Constitution when it comes to accepting a Muslim in the Oval Office [because] nothing in our founding document stands in the way of a Muslim or any other believer or nonbeliever from serving in any public office." In theory, this should be enough to settle the argument. But the real argument is his opinion that the "Islamic faith is antithetical to the US Constitution." This is why he's wrong-- six objectives in the preamble of the US Constitution that have very similar counterparts in Islam:

Disclaimer: I am not trying to preach at/to you. I do not claim to be an expert scholar on these subjects, this is just an amalgamation of some research I have done over the past few days as well as religious studies I have partaken in throughout my life. I fully admit that there could be mistakes and it is not at all my intention to offend or insult any person, group, or religious sect.
Thomas Jefferson (and many of the other Founding Fathers) were actually huge scholars when it came to religious laws and texts. They learned from these populations and the rules they followed. This often included Islam and the laws set forth by the Quran.

Form a more perfect union--The idea of freedom, equality, harmony, and a brotherhood among people is not unique to the US Constitution. It's an idea that is also espoused in Islam: "Hold fast, all together, by the rope of God and be not divided; and remember the favor of God which He bestowed upon you when you were enemies and He united your hearts in love so that by His grace you became as brethren; and you were on the brink of a pit of fire and He saved you from it. Thus does God explain to you His Commandments that you may be guided" (Quran Ch. 3, verse 103). Islam promotes the idea of our linked humanness through an all-powerful Creator. Islam preaches not being envious of others and to wish the best for your companions and even your enemies. It does not preach hatefulness, divisiveness, or oppression, but equality among all.
Establish Justice--Islam came to a pagan Arabian peninsula at a time when leadership was often corrupt and newborn daughters were buried alive. It brought ideas of equality, acceptance, mercy, and justice to a society that may have often ignored what we now consider inalienable rights. Islam does not discriminate. It preaches respect and equitable treatment for all, as all are equal in the eyes of God. "O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm for God, witnesses in justice, and do not let the hatred of a people prevent you from being just. Be just; that is nearer to righteousness. And fear God; indeed, God is acquainted with what you do" (Quran Ch. 5, verse 8). There is this idea of responsibility and accountability in the religion that encourages and emphasizes the importance in being just. And as you do more research in the Islamic Caliphate that controlled very large areas on Europe, Asia, and Africa, you will constantly come across stories of how just and fair the caliphs were known to be. These were/are the precedents and ideals set forth by the religion.
Insure domestic Tranquility--Family is a heavily discussed and protected ideal in Islam, with many references and guidelines in the Quran laying out its importance and sanctity. But even more importantly, is a proclamation of equal protection and equal forgiveness for men and women. Not only does it promote the protection of family of the specific faith, Islam advocates for cooperation and working together to benefit society. In the ages of the caliphate, non-Muslims were not forced or coerced to convert to religion--they all lived together in peace and harmony. "And cooperate [with one another] in righteousness and piety, but do not cooperate in sin and aggression" (Quran Ch 5, verse 2).
Provide for the common defense--This may be one of the hardest and easiest defenses to make. The common misconception today, because of a few groups of individuals, is that Islam is a religion of anger and violence. In fact it is a religion that preaches a beautiful message of peace and salvation. Islam condones self-defense when a war has been posed upon its followers because of religious persecution. But even within this there are sacred days and months, where there should be no fighting or bloodshed. While self-defense is allowed, Islam still admonishes followers against transgressing and adopting "unduly aggressive measures"--it preaches fairness and humanity, even in war. One of the most poignant verses expressing the value Islam has for humanity and life is: "Whoever kills a soul [unless for a soul or for corruption done in the land], it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one, it is as if he had saved mankind entirely" (Quran Ch 5, verse 32).
Promote the general Welfare--Ah, welfare, a commonly disputed political debate in the US today. But I think most can agree that promoting the general welfare of a population--the rights to food, shelter, being healthy, opportunities to find work, etc.--are mostly a good thing. Islam actually put into practice one of the first effective concepts of the Welfare State. The State, as well as individuals in Islam, had/have a duty towards "the widow, the orphan, the needy, the captive, the debtor, the neighbor, and the wayfarer." One of the five pillars of Islam, Zakat (or Almsgiving), entails every individual with the means donating a specific percentage of their wealth to these groups of less fortunate people. Beyond meeting these basic needs, the ideas of education--in history, art, poetry--and social, economic, and spiritual success also blossomed around and through the faith in the latter half of the first century (I mean, have you seen the architecture in the Middle East?).
Secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity--This is potentially one of the most broad of these Constitutional objectives. Strategically, it leaves some leeway and flexibility for our policy-making, while also stressing our importance in "liberty." Here, I want to talk about an Islamic value that is not at all unique to the religion, but an often assumed aspect of life: kindness. I think that through kindness, we can secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity. Kindness for our families, for our communities, for our future generations--it unites us, it connects us--it is, in itself, a blessing. "Show forgiveness, enjoin kindness, avoid ignorance" (Quran Ch 7, verse 199).

Now here's the problem with Islamophobia. It is defined as "the dislike of or prejudice against Islam or Muslims, especially as a political force." In reality, it is more than just an unfortunately growing group of people's "dislike and prejudice." The "phobia" in Islamophobia is affecting the population of Muslims in America and the world more than those who spout its logic. Instead, there is a growing fear in the Muslim population. Like 14-year old Ahmed being led away in handcuffs, I am genuinely worried about how the rest of my country perceives me and how they'll treat me and my friends and family because of information barriers and a lack of understanding. Unless I'm surrounded by close friends that I know or trust, I feel this inexplainable pressure to whisper my religious affiliation when asked. Like I'm stepping around a land mine or it's a taboo I should be avoiding at all costs.

Today, it's not unusual to imagine a Catholic, or Jewish, president. It's a shame that in this religiously diverse country, Muslims seem to still inspire unconstitutional--and un-American assaults on our most cherished ideal: civic equality, regardless of religion.

Because this has already been a lengthy (and slightly emotionally draining post), I cannot express in any words other than this just makes me feel sad. It makes me incredibly disappointed in parts of our community--in the hate that is so rampant and easy to give into. It is so easy to get caught up in the anger and the sensational statements, but it only takes five minutes to educate yourself and clear up those misconceptions. We have come so far and yet not far enough in over two centuries. My greatest hope is that some day soon we can accept the faith of others as meaningful and validated, instead of as a threat. Because the ability to have faith is one of our most unique qualities as humans. It drives us and it grounds us at the same time. Faith is an incredible and beautiful blessing that we should never tear down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sources

TIME: Ben Carson Would Fail US History
Huffington Post: Donald Trump Responds To Question From A Birther By Demonstrating That He Is Still A Birther

Ben Carson Is Dead Wrong About A Muslim President And The Constitution

NBC News: Analysis: Ben Carson, the Constitution and a Muslim President
Islam and the US Constitution
Dictionary
Quran

Five Myths of Studying Abroad

2015-07-27T22:44:00.000-04:00

Five Myths of Studying Abroad

The Hypocrisy of Labeling Hate Crimes

2015-07-27T11:45:00.000-04:00

The Hypocrisy of Labeling Hate Crimes

It seems these days, we are seeing more and more headlines about tragic shootings around the country. Within just one month, we saw the loss of nine innocent lives in Charleston and four more in Chattanooga. The saddest part is that these people did nothing wrong, but just happened to be born a different race or religion than their shooter.

This is not okay.

You would think by the 21st century, our society and people would have outgrown the ideas of race and religious supremacy and righteousness. Unfortunately, that's not the case. And that's not going to change until we amend the way we think and talk about these tragedies.

I absolutely love the Daily Skimm. I think it's a great way to get a concise summary of the news every day. But let's take a look at how they described each of these events the day after they happened:

On June 18th, the day after the Charleston shooting:

"Last night, a gunman opened fire at a historic black church there. Nine people were killed, including the pastor, and at least one was wounded. The shooter is still at large. Police believe he’s a white man in his early 20s, and that he attacked during a prayer meeting inside the church. Officials are describing this as a hate crime. The FBI is helping with the investigation."

On July 17th, the day after the shooting in Chattanooga.

"Yesterday, a gunman killed four Marines at a military facility there. The gunman first went to a military recruiting center and shot at glass doors. Then he went to a nearby naval reserve center and shot and killed the Marines. The suspect was also killed, and is being investigated for possible ties to terrorist groups."

Before I go any further, I want to emphasize that I am in NO way condoning the actions of either of these shooters.

My intention is to point out how different these cases are reported. There was an incredible amount of hesitation before more than a handful of people were willing to label the lone white man's crime a hate crime, and no media outlet would describe the Charleston shooting as an act of terrorism. But mere hours after this lone Arab man's actions, we are immediately searching for "possible ties to terrorist groups." Why was Mohammad Abdulazeez's family detained in Jordan to investigate terrorist ties while no one even questioned the family of Dylan Roof or his upbringing? Why is the country so willing to accept this white American's actions as those of a single, unaffiliated actor, while the Arab American's actions are assumed and expected to be a part of a bigger agenda?

Do we not see that this "agenda" already exists in America? We just don't let ourselves recognize it. Actually, let me rephrase that. As a brown girl born and raised in the South, I see it every day.

I see the stares my mom and I get when we stop by the grocery store in more traditional garb on religious holidays. I remember my 7th birthday when my best friends approached me at recess to tell me my religion was wrong and that I should convert when I'm 25. I know what it's like to miss countless school events, tests, and assignments to celebrate a religious holiday because it isn't recognized nationally -- even worse, I know people who haven't been able to observe their important religious events because of work or school. I have, albeit jokingly, been called a terrorist and other degrading names without ever lifting a hand to anyone.

I am not saying everyone in the country is racist or close-minded. But you cannot deny the privilege and ease that comes with being white and Christian in America. For one, as the majority in the population, you have control. Look at how hesitant we are to admit the white shooter is a small part of a larger picture. This white man is not expected to represent the rest of the Caucasian population, but the Arab man is automatically tied to and considered the same as the Arab and Muslim American populations. How sad is it that it is so easy to point to that group's flaws, to accuse them of being racist and religious supremacists, to blame them for violence -- but it is so hard to recognize the flaws of the majority population in America?

Days after the Charleston shooting and the young man's conviction, the whole country turned to the debate of the Confederate flag. "It's a symbol for violence and hatred and racism!" They said. And it is. But criticizing and getting rid of a symbol is not enough to address what that symbol actually represents. And yet, the conversation seemed to change so quickly. Rather than actually talking about what made Dylan Roof think his actions were "justified," the whole country blamed it on a piece of fabric that stands for Southern pride or racism or whatever the person you talk to at that moment believes it to be. Attacking a collection of threads and the pattern they form does nothing to the underlying threads of society waiting to be pulled at and unwound.

When events like this happen, we change the conversation as quickly as we can, out of fear of offending the majority of the population of our country. When a white man murdered three Muslim students in Chapel Hill, NC, earlier this year, it was referred to as the results of a "parking dispute." The federal government refused to get involved and label it as a hate crime for as long as possible. The Charleston shooting got even more attention at first, sparking an intense controversy when Roof and his actions were labeled as "mentally ill" instead of the hate crime and act of terror that it was. But when the Arab-American commits the same wrong deeds, there is no hesitation.

His family, community, and people that may look like him are punished. They will feel the backlash for one person's actions. The young girls adorning hijabs and the young boys with Middle Eastern features will continue to be on the receiving end of glares and the butt of terrorist jokes. They will constantly feel on edge, never completely comfortable in the country they still continue their own -- always anxious about when the next ungodly act of someone of their race will be blamed on themselves. But those with fairer skin will not think twice when someone of their own pigment makes the same transgressions. They'll take days to admit the existence of hate crimes rooted in the society's institutionalized views and treatments of race. They may scold the actor or sympathize with the victims. But they will not be blamed. They will not be linked to or accused of being terrorists. They will not have this dark cloud follow them in whatever work they pursue because of the actions of one person.

Their actions and thoughts will not be assumed to be a cause of their race or religion.They will not be forced into a category based on the color of their skin. They are allowed to be their own individuals, instead of a part of a darker whole.

Final List Check

2015-07-23T18:18:00.000-04:00

About six months ago, on the eve of my departure, I created a (very random) list of places to visit and things to do in Turkey. At the time, I knew absolutely nothing about the geography of Turkey and where these sites were located and how difficult they would be logistically--and so the list did change slightly. But let's take a look at how many of these items I can cross off six months later.

Turkey List 2015

~~Visit at least five other countries~~
~~Try something new every week~~
~~Step foot on two continents~~
~~Travel somewhere alone~~
~~Learn how to interact with people on restaurants/shops without being super awkward/American~~ (ehh...partial credit)
~~Visit the Spice Bazaar~~
Eat a kumpir
~~Drink Turkish coffee~~
~~Walk across Galata Bridge~~
~~Eat a sesame seed covered pretzel (simit)~~
~~Take a boat tour down the Bosphorous~~
~~Eat some baklava~~
~~Drink Turkish tea~~
~~Eat borek~~
~~Drink a glass of Ayran~~
~~Pet the many stray cats~~
~~Try "salep"~~
~~Enjoy the view from Galata Tower~~
Go to a belly-dancing show
Visit Istanbul Archaelogical Museums
Visit the Chora Church
~~See the Valens Aqueducts~~
Visit Beylerbeyi Palace
Visit Miniaturk
Take a day trip to the Princes' Islands
Go to the Maiden's Tower
~~Stroll along Emirgan Park~~
~~Eat Turkish ice cream~~
~~Ride the funicular (red street car)~~
~~Drink pomegranate juice~~
~~Visit the Suleymaniye Mosque~~
Race around the Hippodrome
Aspendos
~~Go to Ortakoy Mosque~~
~~Dolmabahce Palace~~
~~Walk along the Walls of Constantinople~~
See the Whirling Dervishes
~~Blue Mosque~~
~~Hagia Sophia~~
Little Hagia Sophia
~~Goreme National Park/Cappadocia~~
~~Ruins of Ephesus (including Library of Celsus)~~
Archeological Site of Troy
~~Visit the Grand Bazaar (Kapali Carsisi)~~
~~Yerebatan Sarayi (Underground Cistern)~~
Parks of Ankara
~~Topkapi Palace~~
Sumela Monastery
Pamukkale
Bodrum Castle
Drink boza
Turkish and Islamic Arts Museum
~~Temple of Artemis~~
~~Rumelihisari~~
Duden Waterfalls
~~Gulhane Park~~
Hadrian's Gate
~~Izmir Clock Tower~~
~~Taksim Square~~
~~Eat Turkish Delight~~

38.5/60 = 64.2%

So not exactly 100%....but hey, I guess that means I'll just have to go back to Turkey some day soon :)

Week 18: 25,444 Miles Roundtrip

2015-06-27T02:21:00.002-04:00

25444 miles, 128 days, 15 cities, 8 countries, 2 continents, and 1 semester later. I'm back.
While my last few days in Istanbul were beautifully surreal--exploring the nooks of the city I hadn't made it around to, revisiting favorite spots, and relishing the chaotic peace from greater heights--I was more surprised at how I felt when I got off the plane at Hartsfield-Jackson. I walked out of baggage claims to the loving arms of my entourage (shout out to my amazing friends, Jane & Mads, and also Kirsten & Maya for coming to the airport but having to leave before I made it out of passport control). But it didn't feel like it had been almost five months since I said goodbye to them on Georgia Tech's campus.

It's been almost a month, and I still haven't been able to shake the feeling that this past semester was a dream. It isn't until I see a friend from Bogazici post on Facebook or an old picture on Instagram, that I remember I was there--that actually happened. I am sure that when we get back to campus in the fall and I am surrounded with people once again, that the Turkey stories will endlessly flow out of my mouth and people will want to throw large objects at me to make me stop. But until then, when people ask me how it was or what it was like all I've been able to say is "It was great, but I'm glad to be home." And it was great and I am glad to be home. But I know that it was also so much more.
I have written about it before, but since before I even came to college I had this romantic idea in my head that I would study abroad and it would be life-changing. I had this notion that there would be a beautiful, unforgettable, picturesque moment where I would reach the highest state of enlightenment and suddenly know. I would reach this state of self-acceptance after endless weeks of traveling and self-discovery. In reality, I travelled. I discovered a lot. But life just doesn't usually work out in this romantic way I pictured (probably very heavily influenced by books and movies).
I remember first feeling resentful towards all the people who told me studying abroad would change my life. I thought "Nothing's changed! I still feel the exact same!" But I do not think that's exactly true. Instead of that singular moment of enlightenment, these life-changing moments happen in phases. They're just that--moments. Usually small ones, and they may or may not add up to something more. I think the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around though was that it isn't completely tangible. Because there isn't that singular, describable moment, it almost feels like it doesn't even exist. But it is still there. What's that quote from the Nicholas Sparks book? "Our love is like the wind, you can't see it but you sure can feel it." Well, that's what the self-discovery and growth from studying abroad are for me. I can't see it, I can't describe it, but I know it's there and I can feel it.
There are many simple lessons I have learned--how to navigate cities, how to pay the check at restaurants around the world, and more--that I can remember learning and I know will help me on a regular basis. But there are even more that I don't think about every day, but when the time comes and I am in a pinch, I will know what to do because of the time the world taught it to me.
There is one lesson though that I think will continue to have a very conscious impact on my life. When I first left in January, I was hesitant because of all the great relationships I began to develop with friends in the fall. I didn't want to miss their graduations, their engagements, the rest of their first year in college. I wanted to continue developing those friendships, but I was also extremely excited to form some new, global ones. I feel fortunate that I was able to do both. But while it is an extreme privilege and honor to meet students and people from all over the world while studying abroad and traveling, I have realized that it is a divine blessing to have friends, family, and friends who are basically family back home. The saying that you don't know what you have until it's gone is a cliche for a reason. It rings truer than that the sky is blue. Studying abroad teaches you not only about yourself, but about your relationships back home. I am incredibly fortunate and graced to have been able to come home to such an amazing group that supports my adventures abroad and my endeavors at home. But after 18 weeks, I've learned that not every adventure requires a passport or exploring a new city alone. Granted those experiences, the experiences I've had over the past five months, are special in their own way. But I'm ready for some hometown adventures with the people I love.

See ya soon, Istanbul. Love you long time.

Week 17: A Little Beachin' Never Killed Nobody

2015-05-28T15:49:00.002-04:00

How many Istanbul goals that haven't been accomplished yet can we squeeze in in one week while studying for finals?
1. Kilyos Beach
Bogazici actually has a campus on the beach (of course, it does) up on the Black Sea coast of the country. I didn't expect it to be all that great--it's not exactly the Turquoise Coast Turkey is known for--but it didn't disappoint! The water was beautiful, the weather was perfect, and of course there were plenty stray dogs for companionship.

2. Brunch in Besiktas and the Besiktas Market
This included eating menemen, which I can't believe I somehow managed to put off for four months. I was probably avoiding it because it contains both eggs and tomatoes, which are not my favorite things. But it wasn't bad! I would definitely recommend and I would eat it again--though it won't be one of the foods I miss the most when I'm back home.

Also, I will never forget the huge Turkish flags with Ataturk's face that we see absolutely everywhere so it needed to be documented:

3. Study in the Bebek Starbucks
While Bebek cafes have been a hot study spot for many this semester, I never made it down there very often (mostly because I couldn't bear the thought of the monstrous incline and hundred stairs I would have to endure to walk back home). But this weekend, I figured the best way to stop myself from going home early to take a nap would be to isolate myself in this Starbucks with the best view in the world. Hey, at least it was air conditioned.

4. Evenings spent at the "petek"
This "petek"--more commonly referred to as the "lookout" or "honeycomb" by us Exchange/Erasmus kiddos--is a spot on the walk down to South Campus. There's basically a bench arrangement/seating area that fills up pretty quick after school hours. It offers a pretty stunning view of the Bosphorous and an environment mixed with the serenity that comes of spot just above the crowd of the city with the musical stylings and laughter of college kids. My favorite is watching the transition as the sun goes down and the lights turn on--pink sky, then light blue/gray reflecting off the water with a few lights here and there, and finally a midnight blue with lights twinkling like stars all around us. It's another one of those moments I've witnessed this semester that can't quite be captured in a photograph. But of course, I tried anyway.

I can't believe I took my last final today and the semester is over. In 72 hours, I'll be boarding my last plane, heading back to the States. As cliche as it is, I feel like we just got here yesterday. I remember the entire taxi ride to what became our home and neighborhood--the shock at the vendors walking around and selling water and simit in the middle of the highway, the confusion when we finally pulled onto what may or may not be our street. It's crazy how overwhelming this semester seemed five months ago, but now it's already gone.

Week 16: Veni. Vidi. Vici.

2015-05-19T11:04:00.000-04:00

I came. I saw. I conquered.
How I feel about this past semester...except I guess we won't quite now about that last part until finals are over in about ten days.
The majority of last week was spent recovering from Paris and studying for our first final, Turkish! But this past weekend, I spent about 36 hours in Rome seeing and doing as many typical Rome things as I could. This included: walking around (and getting lost) in Vatican City, seeing the Pope (granted it was pretty far away, but I have a picture of his floating head among the masses of people!), enjoying the largest "small scoop" of gelato in the world, walking through the Coliseum and the Roman Forum, Trevi Fountain (unfortunately under renovation), finally eating Italian food in Italy, running up and down the Spanish Steps more times than necessary, watching the sunset from Pincio/Pincian Hill, strolling through the Piaza del Popolo to the soundtrack of street performers singing their hearts out. I'm always amazed by how much can be done in a day (all of the above taking place in less than 12 hours).

I am still a bit amazed by how normal it feels to spend weekends in airports and random new cities and countries. It will definitely be a bit of an adjustment coming back to the States (an adjustment I definitely look forward to). At the end of the day, as amazing and thrilling as it, traveling is pretty exhausting and a bit stressful. For the past few years, I've put this unrealistic pressure on myself to travel the world and see and experience absolutely everything. I still think this is an admirable goal, but for some reason I have been working to pursue it as if there's a ticking time bomb on my head. Sometimes it takes a weekend in one of the oldest cities in the world to recognize your youth. The world is a beautiful place, filled with gems of culture and history waiting to be discovered. But it isn't going anywhere. Adventure and discovery will still be out there five months from now, five years from now, and even fifty years from now. Despite the stress-induced gray hairs, I think this is a lesson I could only have learned after pushing myself the way I have this semester, and I am pretty sure it's a realization my parents are thrilled about.

(Also, today--May 19th--is Ataturk Remembrance Day in Turkey!)

Week 15: No, I Did Not Get Enough Pictures Of The Eiffel Tower

2015-05-11T15:19:00.000-04:00

If you told me last year (or even this time last week) that I would be going to Paris, I would say you're dreaming. But, that means that this weekend I got the last-minute, spontaneous, and exciting adventure I've been hoping for all semester. And it was the best decision of my entire study abroad experience by far.
We flew out of Istanbul at 5am (meaning we left for the airport around 2:45am and didn't sleep at all) and landed in Paris around 10am. Interestingly enough, it was actually the 70th Anniversary Celebration of V-E Day which was very cool timing on our part. As we were enjoying croissants and coffee at a cafe around the corner from our airbnb, we were able to watch some of the early morning festivities from the Arc de Triomphe and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. That ended up being our first stop after we dropped off our bags. We climbed to the top and enjoyed the magnificent view of the city for the first time.

The rest of the day was a lot of wandering--which was perfect for Paris. I walked down Champs Elysees, cappuccino in hand, and enjoyed the beautiful weather. I ended up near the Grand Palais and a bunch of other huge palace buildings turned museums that had art exhibits with three hour queues. I walked around Invalides and the museum of the army before my exhaustion finally caught up with me and I headed down the Seine to catch a sightseeing boat cruise.

Weirdly enough, I ran into some Tech students in the middle of the street across from the Eiffel Tower! I had no idea they would be in Paris this weekend, and barely knew I would be in Paris until a few days ago. Needless to say, it was very exciting to see some familiar faces on the other side of the world, especially after almost six months away from my favorite campus.

I ended the day at the Eiffel Tower (with a Nutella crepe--yum) and walked around the surrounding blocks for over an hour searching for a bakery selling baguettes (unfortunately, to no avail). Even as we sat on the lawn of the Eiffel Tower as the sun set, it was hard to comprehend that we were actually in Paris.

Saturday saw an early morning start (I'm still impressed that I woke up around 7am) and a packed day. Again, a lot of slightly random wandering and exploring with tons of walking around. Because the transition time was not that exciting, here's just a list of everything I saw: the Louvre, Tuileries Garden, Place de la Concorde and the obelisk from Egypt, Place de la Bastille, Carnavalet Museum (a free museum of Paris history...lots of pictures, very little information), Centre Georges Pompidou, Saint Chappelle, Notre Dame, the bread festival happening right outside Notre Dame, the Latin Quarter, the Pantheon & St. Genevieve, the Luxembourg Gardens (where I got to just relax for about an hour and read a book I picked up for ONE EURO in the Latin Quarter AND ate my first macaron ever because I had mistakingly been avoiding them my whole life because I thought they were the same thing as the coconut-based macaroons--but they're not so that's been a game-changer), Belleville Park (where there was some sort of music festival going on which was really interesting to walk through), drank coffee at O'Paris Cafe which overlooked Belleville Park and the Eiffel Tower in the distance, Sacre Cour and a few streets in the Montmartre neighborhood, and then it was back to the Eiffel Tower to watch it sparkle at night!

We started Sunday with a little photoshoot at the Eiffel Tower because ya can't have too many photos of the Eiffel Tower.

And then hit up all the leftovers on our lists--though there wasn't too much. I walked down the Pont de l'Archeveche, the famous love lock bridge, and also through the archeological crypt at Notre Dame which was all about the archeology of Paris.

I then ended up checking out the Arenes de Lutece, an ancient Roman forum, which was really just a large auditorium of sand. One of the perks of the day was hanging out in Bois du Boulogne, a huge park on the west side of Paris that is supposedly about three times larger than Central Park in New York City. Also had to check out Laduree and Angelina--some very famous (but expensive) cafes/restaurants.

It's fitting that we ended our time in Paris at what ended up being my favorite spot--Trocadero. It offered the greatest view of the Eiffel Tower, with fountains of water creating rainbows in the sunlight, a crowded plaza complete with everything from skateboarders to street performers, and all kinds of people laying out on the grass and children playing in the water. It was so peaceful and surreal, I still can't believe I actually experienced it.

I've struggled a lot this semester with balancing my expectations and realities and coming to terms with the challenges that life throw your way. I have questioned a great deal--myself, my goals, my future. Even worse, I have doubted myself and my dreams. But this weekend ended up being the best way to combat those negative vibes. I think it was the travel experience that I had been craving all this time--spontaneity, exploration, freedom, and perfect weather to top it all off. Coming back to the reality of the end of the semester has been tough, but if anything I feel more in touch with the reality of life--outside of school--something that can often be difficult for me to see. I have seen of the world what I have read about in textbooks and seen in the news. I have experienced that these things are real, and we exist in more than just our university bubble. It's amazing and intimidating and humbling all at the same time. But it's also empowering and inspiring. It's proof that there is more--more than work, more than obligations, more than the daily grind. There is always life, there is always adventure, you just have to look for it.

Week 14: Lale Çok Güzel

2015-05-04T18:30:00.000-04:00

So as I mentioned earlier, this past week was absolutely crazy with school--I spent every day in office hours, and when I wasn't there, I was cooped up studying at Starbucks or the library. But, today we were finally able to walk around Emirgan Park to check out the tulip festival (or at least what's left of it). Amsterdam is often super well-known for their tulips, but they're actually a huge deal in Istanbul too. It was great to actually do something after class and after a stressful week, but a great start to this next one. Today, I also super last-minute booked a weekend trip to Paris! Ya never know what's going to happen when you're studying abroad.
Anyway, here are some pictures of me attempting to be artsy at the tulip festival!

Week 13b: Some Clever Pun Relating Dubrovnik, Kotor, & Tirana

2015-04-26T08:01:00.001-04:00

April 21st-24th
I did not realize until just now that I was in three different countries within the span of three days. That is crazy! It is unbelievable what a whirlwind this week has been. I feel like I use that word a lot ("whirlwind") but there is truly no other way to describe it. As I had mentioned before, this was the spring break I have been subconsciously dreaming of my whole life. The quasi-unplanned, somewhat spontaneous, cross-country traveling with nothing but the contents haphazardly stuffed into my backpack. It was pretty much everything I've been looking for from a study abroad experience, and I'll try to explain why.
In my last post, we were just pulling into the port in Dubrovnik around 9pm--a bit later than we expected, and much darker outside than we hoped it would be when we would have to hunt or our hostel. Thankfully we found it with a cheap enough taxi ride. This hostel, Dubrovnik Backpackers, was complete with our own pair of Croatian grandparents. The couple that owned the hostel was the absolute sweetest, offering us juice, tea, coffee, Croatian specialties, cake, and most importantly, some advice on how to navigate the city and the rest of our journey down the Adriatic Sea coast. This was around when we ended up adding Montenegro to our itinerary, as it would be a necessary pit stop on our way to Albania (where we needed to end up to catch our flight).
The next morning, we woke up early and headed down to the Old City. The old city of Dubrovnik is its own world, bordered by these massive stone walls. We walked the entire border of the city on top of the walls (lots of slippery stairs and beautiful views) in a little more than an hour.

We also explored the street-level of the town, and spent some time enjoying the weather on the rocks at the water's edge (do you sense the pattern here?).

Next up, was a kayak tour. Now, this tour was supposed to be the easiest difficulty level, with no prior experience necessary. But it was just our luck that this Tuesday was accompanied by some very strong West winds that not only completely altered the original planned course, but made this shorter, modified one even more difficult. After this three hour long kayak expedition, I understand what it feels like to be completely helpless at the mercy of nature and its whims. We could be paddling forward, completely synchronized and with all the strength we possessed, and still be moving backwards because of the wind and the waves. The return journey took almost two hours because the two of us were left stranded at the very back of the group while we struggled to make any progress in our desired direction. There was a point when we could not see anyone else in our kayak group (because they had all turned the corner and safely docked) and we were moving farther and farther away from the coast. I will admit, it was here that I screamed out of frustration because I've always wanted to know what it's like to have your screams muffled out by the wind in the middle of nowhere (it was pretty surreal). Somehow, by the grace of God, we made it to the shore--though our bodies were stiff and could barely get out of the kayaks.

Too exhausted and frozen to function, we made our way to the closest gelato stand and enjoyed some gelato in the sunniest part of the marbly street we could find. We caught a bit of the sunset near Lokrum island before we headed back to our hostel for some much needed showers and rest.
On Wednesday, we caught our two-hour bus to Kotor, Montenegro. We booked our hostel late the night before and bought our tickets about 15 minutes before the bus pulled out of the station. Kotor was unbelievable. I could not be happier that our adventures brought us here. In addition to the beautiful landscape, the quaint town, and the cute shops, our time in Kotor was truly made by the hostel we stayed at. If you're ever in Kotor, definitely check out the Old Town Hostel because it was fantastic. The hostel was teeming with all kinds of people from all parts of the world (special shout out to room 4 for being awesome). The approximate 19 hours we spent in Kotor would not have been the same without this hostel experience that pretty much encompassed everything I expected from European travels.

Our last 24 hours would be spent in Tirana, Albania. We started the five-hour journey by car at the bright and early hour of 8am. About two years ago, I had read that Albania was in the top 10 destinations for young people to backpack through, and since then it was on the top of my list.

Tirana is pretty small by capital city standards. This country actually has a very interesting and surprising history. Within about an hour of arriving, we realized that there was almost no trace of heavy Western influence--no McDonalds franchises, very little Coca-Cola, no signs of the quintessential American influence. Apparently, the country was run by communism and imposed a strict self-isolationist policy until 1991. The rest of the 90s were therefore spent transitioning from this. Some of the sights included two old mosques, the opera house, and the "pyramid." This pyramid was once a museum in honor of some communist ruler, but it has since been closed and (clearly) graffitied. Now people can climb it for a pretty cool view of the city (though I did not experience this because I have absolutely no idea how they actually get up there...).

Now it's back to the daily grind in Istanbul. This coming week is probably my equivalent to GT hell week, and then it's almost two weeks before my first final. It's crazy that everyone back home is taking finals already and that graduation for so many of my amazing friends is just around the corner! This year has gone by so fast it's unbelievable and a little bit daunting...

Week 13a: Sorry Zagreb, But I've Gotta Split

2015-04-20T14:33:00.001-04:00

April 17th-20th
Because the week has already been so amazingly jam-packed with adventure and beauty, I've decided to split (hehe) it up into two posts. I'm currently on a never ending bus ride down the coast, heading to Dubrovnik and I figured what's a better way to pass the time than blog a little.

So the spring break I have been waiting for my entire life finally arrived. After changing our plans about four times in the past few months, on Tuesday we booked a one-way ticket to Zagreb. And I haven't looked back since.

We flew into Zagreb Friday night, after some mild panic that we would miss our flight because we were stuck in traffic an hour and a half away from the airport approximately less than three hours before our scheduled take off. But the crisis was averted and we made it in one piece. We headed to our hostel/apartment, which happened to be on the most poppin' street ever filled with cafes, restaurants, and people of all ages. After settling in, we explored that same street and ate some delicious (and amazingly cheap) dinner.

The next morning was unfortunately cold and rainy. But the threat of frostbite in my chacos did not stop us from exploring what this amazing city had to offer. We walked through the Dolac market of fresh produce sold by farmers from surrounding villages and then also through another pop up artisan market. Then on the search for food we ended up at one cafe for coffee and another bakery-type store for fresh out of the oven chocolate croissants (literally so hot the chocolate burned my mouth). We then walked through the museum quarter, seeing the Stone Gate, St. Mark's Church, the Croatian Museum of Natural History (incidentally, the entire place was solely in Croatian), and the Museum of Broken Relationships. That last one was the highlight of the day and probably one of my favorite museums of all time. It was so interesting an captivating--I wanted to read every story they had on display. After some more relatively aimless wandering around the city center, we decided to hit up a Croatian mall and movie theater. And because the day wasn't emotionally charged enough with the MoBR, we watched Age of Adaline (shout out to the Croatian currency, the kuna, for allowing us to get two tickets, two medium sodas, and a large popcorn for a total of $15).

On Sunday morning, we made sure to walk by the Cathedral of the Assumption of the Holy Virgin Mary (Zagreb's biggest landmark) on our way to catch our bus to Split. The five hour bus ride was uneventful enough, except for some pretty awesome views of the Croatian countryside and coast.

I've decided that Split is the California of Croatia--the weather and the coast are perfect and the people are as posh as can be. We walked down the main square to find our perfectly located hostel right off of another famous street in the area. Before exploring further, we had a bite to eat at the newly opened local restaurant on our block. I had black risotto, which sounds and looks weird but was actually one of the most delicious dishes I've had.

The evening's wanderings led us to the Cathedral of St. Dominus Bell Tower, which we got to climb up to enjoy a spectacular 360 view of the entire city and surrounding mountains. And because it was suggested to me multiple times, the evening was not complete without a gelato stop and a stroll down the water while the sun set.

This morning we hit up Diocletian's Palace (or at least the substructure and basement, basically everything we hadn't wandered through above ground the day before).

The best part about this spring break so far has been our power to do anything we want and the complete flexibility of it all. We decided it was going to be a chill spring break--a time for some much needed relaxation. So after our major sightseeing, we walked along the water to the beach and just chilled. I climbed up some rocks that jutted out into the sea, and my major goal for the entire week was accomplished. We also really enjoyed laying in some chairs on the beach until we learned you had to pay for them because "nothing is free in Croatia." It was all for the best though because by then we were ready for some food. We ended up eating the what I am pretty sure is the greater slice of pizza you can get outside of Italy. And topped that off with some gelato....hey, when in Croatia, right?

We have now driven down the rest of the coast of Croatia, and even through Bosnia & Herzegovina for a few miles, to reach our final Croatian destination. By far, the most beautiful and scenic route I've ever taken. We were right up on the turquoise water for the majority of it. And by the time the sun was beginning setting, we were driving through the country side in the valleys of the mountains that peaked in the orange and pink sky.

Today, I watched the sun set from the top of a hill in Bosnia & Herzegovina. I'd say it's a pretty successful spring break so far.

Weeks 11 & 12: Study Grind Never Ends

2015-04-16T17:35:00.000-04:00

This post is just a few days early because today we leave for spring break! The past two weeks have been slightly busy, completely focused on schoolwork. Because let me tell you this, studying abroad requires studying and Bogazici is actually really hard (when it comes to test averages, it doesn't feel like I left Tech at all).

I usually try to buff up these shorter (less interesting) posts with some reflection or question I've found myself asking about Turkey or the culture here or my time in Europe in general. But the past few weeks have been so hectic and the next one even more so that I will just leave it at this: you're still in school when you're studying abroad, and depending on the type of person you are or the program you're in, your grades still matter. That means the same stresses (and then some) still exist, study skills must still be practiced, and the library is can still be your second home.

But then when all this stress is just too much and I think I'm going to burst, I eat dinner one night on the benches overlooking the Bosphorous--with the city lights shining like stars in the distance the bridge literally sparkling--and I realize it's not so bad. Even studying with a view like this beats pretty much everything else.

Daily Doses

War & Bodies

Clear Eyes, Ful(bright) Hearts, Can't Lose

It's Not Okay

The Roads We Take

The Swiss Cheese Model

Seven [Weeks] in London

"We're At War"

Getting Schooled

Sara's September FAQs

A War of Race and Rhetoric

The Fellowship Process

To All The "Losers"

A Child of Immigrants

[An Attempt At] Dispelling (Some) Islamophobic Assumptions

Five Myths of Studying Abroad

The Hypocrisy of Labeling Hate Crimes

Final List Check

Week 18: 25,444 Miles Roundtrip

Week 17: A Little Beachin' Never Killed Nobody

Week 16: Veni. Vidi. Vici.

Week 15: No, I Did Not Get Enough Pictures Of The Eiffel Tower

Week 14: Lale Çok Güzel

Week 13b: *Some Clever Pun Relating Dubrovnik, Kotor, & Tirana*

Week 13a: Sorry Zagreb, But I've Gotta Split

Weeks 11 & 12: Study Grind Never Ends

Week 13b: Some Clever Pun Relating Dubrovnik, Kotor, & Tirana