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I have met my twin, lost at birth. When I first saw her, sitting in the corner of our Math/English teachers room with the other math teachers, I thought to myself:

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When I first begin a different sort of life in a different sort of place, I write in my notebooks, or plane tickets, or coffee receipts Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs pyramid.

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I write this at my own peril. But, alas, perhaps my end shall come anyways. Perhaps the dawn may never come for me again.

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I have a notebook and pen beside my bed at all times because some of my most comical moments occur when I wake up and remember that I had written an idea down sometime in the middle of stage 1 or 2 of sleep.

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My beautiful neighbor Linda took me with her to central Jakarta this weekend, to pop around admiring dancing fountains and eat local foods and rub our fingers against local tropical flora. We met up with her friend Franny and her cousin, and after spending Saturday night on the 23rd floor of…

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When you move to another country, especially one with a culture so different from your own, it is easy to be swept away by that which scares you.

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Nora is a beautiful tiny butterfly of energy and smiles. She is from a small town in Sumatra and comes from a devout Islamic family. Lim, one of the Chinese-Indonesian English teachers, took her and I to this eclectic hole-in-the-wall cafe in south Jakarta yesterday afternoon. The cafe is li…

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Indonesia seems, to me, to be very similar to Morocco. Perhaps this is my Western mind not able to discern non-Western cultures individually and simply lumping them all together, so perhaps this is the cultural ignorance speaking. Like how I cannot discern from which Asian country my teachin…

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I often assume a persona when I am gathering myself to go into new situations. I think, today I am going to be Robin Williams in The Dead Poet’s Society, as I enter into the high school classroom and meet the students I will be teaching for a semester. Or Julia Robert’s character in Mona Lis…

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The school day ended and I whipped myself back home, taking a quick shower and shoving a pair of wool socks, and extra sweater, my trusty hammock, a sleeping bag, an avocado and a beer in my backpack. I snagged a peanut butter and honey sandwich for the road and bid adieu to the comforts of …

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We set the alarm for 6:30 a.m., and thanks to daylight savings, this feels like 05:30, so we inevitably set the alarm for a bit longer and actually shovel out of bed at 6:37 a.m.

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I ran into Susan at the grocery store today as I was choosing which Quaker oatmeal would best serve my fiber needs.

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I am a vagabond, going about in a vagabond way from the fly-away ponytail to the scaly feet which callous and shiver away in the grassy bed I’ve taken for my own purpose.

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BILL MOYERS: Do you ever have the sense of… being helped by hidden hands?

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BILL MOYERS: Do you ever have the sense of… being helped by hidden hands?

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I love podcasts. And audiobooks. And reading. And learning from mentors who do not realize I have labeled them as such.

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I have forgotten that the librarian slouched behind the “Reference” sign can see me, the me that sits and stares with unparalleled attention at the page.

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Stanley Coren describes the dog’s sense of smell like this:

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There is nothing that restores my faith in humanity quite like a middle school tough-guy with a crush.

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I've spent the last week and a day having quite the adventure! Now I'm finally sitting still, waiting for my water to boil so I can drink some tea, and reflecting on just how amazing it's been. It's really hard to believe I only have a week and a half left in Jyväskylä and a week more left i…

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The last couple days have been very Finnish. I know that might seem like a bit of a "duh...?" type statement, but here's the thing. As I've written about in the past, studying abroad has been about learning about and meeting people from all over the world. So the fact that I've done so many …

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The front door clanged open, and I in my Nature’s Paradise-clad self, greeted our new customer with a big smile and a, “welcome! Is there anything I can help you with?”

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I skid the backdoor open, wincing as it bounces three times against the linoleum kitchen tiling, worried the noise might wake my roommate.

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