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I like seeing the Hudson River when I walk my dog.
I like seeing the George Washington Bridge lit up at night when I walk the pup and also from my roof. I also enjoy knowing that he and I share a birthday.
I had to put flea and tick medicine on my dog.
A smelly guy sat next to me on the subway today and the air conditioner on our car was broken and I still didn’t mind too much because I just liked being part of the city.
Las cucarachas is not just a catchy song.
The view from the Empire State building at night is incredible and the line is short, so go at night. It’s open until about 1:30AM. — New York tip #1
I am getting use to the Empire State building defining my skyline.
My “deck” is actually a “veranda,” said with an accent.
I thought I saw a star tonight when I went out to the roof, but it was actually a plane.
Dan is not here, and that is sad.
I like buying mangoes on sticks, donuts from carts, and the occasional hot dog.
I miss my boyfriend and my family and all my friends and I hope that you are all doing well and I cannot wait to see you.

La manzana grande

The big apple.
Last week, Dan helped me pack the mini van my mom and I rented perfectly full. And the next morning, my mom, Spot, and I headed off on a drive across the country. We traveled 1,792 miles, through parts of 9 states, in two and half days. Spot did incredibly well on the drive. Only once, somewhere near the end of the first 12 and half hour stretch in the car, did she refuse to jump back into her seat. We were at a gas station and I took off her leash and told her to “load up,” (our command for getting in a car) she looked up at her seat and walked away. She did, however, come back when I called.
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Spot in the packed car
Somewhere near Nebraska we stopped at a gas station and took a look at a museum dedicated to sod houses. It was an interesting bit of history for a couple of history buffs, and Spot liked the walk. Apparently, the ground in the Midwest made for bad adobe, and as in Honduras, good wood was scarce and expensive, so families made their prairie homes (walls and roof) from strips of sod. Sounds like it would have been full of crawling creatures.
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The Sod House museum
After our significant preparation, my mom breezed through driving into Manhattan. It took us an hour to get over the George Washington bridge, but we enjoyed the extra time for finding our exits.
I am living in Harlem (some people call it Hamilton Heights when they are looking for a more uppity name.) Basically its at 151st and Broadway, right in the heart of little Dominican Republic. The “I heart NY” t-shirts around here have been replaced with “I heart DR” I am in a decided minority. I was walking Spot last night when a black guy walked passed me and said, “Hey man, this neighborhood even has white people.” The neighborhood is growing on me. I like the Spanish music that fills the streets and watching the kids run around playing at all hours of the night. You can buy oranges cut just like they were in Honduras, and sliced pineapples and mangoes on the streets. I am loving the opportunities to practice my Spanish as I order food and ask to get my shower fixed. I live about a block from the Hudson River and Spot and I take lots of our walks up and down Riverside Park. The location is also convenient for me because it is right in between the Columbia medical campus where my classes will be at 168 and Broadway, and my work down at the main campus at 116.
The apartment is pretty nice, very nice for what I am paying to live in Manhattan. It’s a bit dark and occasionally the smells from the restaurants downstairs get a bit strong, but overall its nice. The building as a terrific rooftop garden and my apartment has a lovely “balcony” overlooking sunny Braodway. OK, really, it’s a fire escape, but it works about the same except that you have to awkwardly crawl out the window to get to it. But crawling out windows to “balconies” has sort of become a motif in my life. Pictures probably describe it better:
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My bedroom
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The Kitchen
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The amazing fetch-playing hallway
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The living room
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View uptown from the “balcony”
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View downtown from the rooftop garden
I miss Dan, a lot. But it is easier for us to talk than it was in Honduras. He sent me lovely flowers in honor of my first day alone in the apartment and my first day of work. I am going to have three flatmates, but none of them have moved in yet.
I have already started my job. I got a graduate assistantship position in the Columbia intramurals and club sports department. I am enjoying working in recreation again, and they are going to cover about two thirds of my credit hours the next two years and give me a small living stipend, so that’s pretty sweet.
I kept my mom REALLY busy while she was here helping me move. Between signing the lease, unloading the car, unpacking, buying and installing an air conditioner, and putting together a bed, a desk chair, a lamp, a book case, and some drawers, oh, and did I mention a horrifically expensive trip to the busiest Target in the country? We didn’t have much time to enjoy the city. We did find the great deli downstairs that is full of friendly workers that make terrific sandwiches. And they stock drinks, beers and juices, from all over the world. I am sure that we will have time for sight-seeing in future trips.
My aunt and cousin came into town less than a week after I arrived for my cousin’s eighth grade graduation trip. So, I have been able to meet up with them and do a few fun touristy things.
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Shelly and Katy as we got ready to go into RENT
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Time Square
I hope everyone is doing well, sorry for the lag time between posts, but I guess it’s understandable while one is moving across the country. Let me know if you ever want to visit the city!

Summer hikes

I’ve been doing some hiking this summer and I have really enjoyed all of the opportunities to appreciate the beauty of Colorado. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of my hiking companions that are helping me to store up what it feels like to be miles away from any of Manhattan’s 171 Starbucks.
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My friend Robin and me hiking near Nederland
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Me at the first hike in Breckenridge
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The whole gang on our second hike in B-ridge
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Not a Starbucks
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The view
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Dan and me at a waterfall

Vive le tour

Hooray for le tour de France season. I can’t think of anything else I’d rather watch three times a day and I am sad that it is coming to an end. There is just something very impressive about athletes that will travel distances of about 200 km (the longest stage this year was 236.5 km) for 20 days in a row, requiring their bodies to take in an average of 5900 calories a day. And the fans are some of the most fun in the world. Excellent showing by team discovery this year.
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I rafted the Royal Gorge with my family yesterday. The trip was a blast and the views of the gorge were awe-inspiring. I hadn’t been to the Royal Gorge since I was young and yesterday it became a favorite Colorado tourist destination. I think that rafting or walking the suspension bridge would provide the best views, but I have heard that just walking across the bridge costs upwards of twenty dollars.
White-water rafting is one of my favorite hobbies, I have been rafting almost every year for about ten years and I have rafted one of the most dangerous commercial sections of the Arkansas, called Pine Creek, which is class V white water. I have only fallen out of a raft twice. The first time I fell out at the bottom of class III rapids in Brown’s canyon. I lost my composure, and ended up about 20 yards from the raft. I swam the rest of the rapid and hit several rocks before I was dragged back into the boat.
My second swim was yesterday. We were in the middle of a class V, 8 foot waterfall when I was thrown from the boat. OK, I’m lying. I actually fell out when we bumped a rock that was not even in rapids. However, my form was much better the second time around. The temperature of the water was less of a shock (admittedly it was warmer due to being in a more southern stretch of river.) I stayed close to the raft and swam back to it quickly. My 16 year old sister held out the t-grip of her paddle which I was able to grab and pull myself back to the raft. An adrenaline rush to be sure, but I really feel like my white-water swimming is getting better.
Overall it was a great day of big and fun class III and IV whitewater complete with breathtaking views of the gorge and a tiny bit of cliff jumping. The jump was not as much of an adrenaline rush as the swim across the current that was required to get to the jump spot. We didn’t get any pictures in the gorge because we were two busy navigating the water, but here is one from the web. If you’re ever looking for something to do in Colorado, or with someone who is visiting Colorado, definitely check out the Royal Gorge. And if you can swim and are in good shape, I strongly recommend the rafting.
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Culture-shocked

Reverse culture shock is an incredible force. But its real trick is in its sneaky, almost invisible nature. Many people claim that reverse culture shock is stronger than the initial culture shock of going to a foreign country. I don’t really think that’s true. Reverse culture shock is not stronger than the initial culture shock, but because its harder to recognize and understand, it takes longer to overcome. I think that mine is finally beginning to dissipate.
Of course you become a bit freaked-out when you watch barefoot children with reddish hair and swollen bellies chase chickens over dirt paths, or listen to a pregnant woman tell you how hungry she is, and realize that these are scenes that will become normal. Your stomach starts to ache after the fifth straight meal (breakfast included) consisting primarily of beans and corn tortillas. You shiver thinking of holding your hand under the shower, knowing that it won’t ever warm up, and psyching yourself into getting into it anyway. But even the cold water isn’t as disorientating as when you turn on your shower the next day and nothing comes out. And then you realize that you don’t miss the water as much as the lights when the power is out for the better part of two days. I spent my first two or three weeks in Honduras in a state of shock, until I found the projects that would define my volunteer experience. It was a state of shock that I and everyone else understood.
It’s much more difficult to understand how much you miss all of it once you have returned to the comforts of home. Last week I spoke with one of my best friends who had spent significantly more time than I had living in Central America. We returned to the US around the same time and when she called last week, the first thing she said was, “Do you still feel weird?” It was the first time since I got back that I really felt that it was alright to still be readjusting. When people ask how you are doing you can tell them all about how nice it is to have hot water, power, grocery stores filled with things you cannot even imagine, or that someone can deliver hot pizza to your door, but in truth, few of those things were things that I really missed while I was gone and none of it explains why it feels so weird to be home. It seems like coming home should be easy.
That is one of the trickiest things about it. Everyone assumes that coming home will be easy, but in reality it probably rarely is. You never return to a home that is just the way it was before you left, because home changes even when you aren’t around. And its even more difficult to return home when not only it is different than you remember, but everything in your cultural surroundings has changed as well.
I miss my community in La Esperanza. I miss my host family, I miss my work, and I really miss speaking Spanish. As hard as it may be to believe, I miss rough beans and dry corn tortillas and sour butter. I miss long afternoons spent eating lunch at the restaurant with a generator when the power was out. And occasionally, albeit rarely, I miss really cold showers. I miss buying oranges from street vendors and I miss so much more. But, at least the shock is wearing off.