Things lived and seen.
For just a minute, that small metro car was no longer just a packed car of irritating – and irritated – strangers, but a train full of people. For just a second, we forgot to hide – our faces, our eyes, our curiosity and empathy. For just a moment, we were human. … More Two panhandlers step into a train car…
I live in a world where it is normal to breathe in all the people who happen to be headed the same direction as I am on my way to work. For an hour, I am pressed against strangers. Arms I don’t know rest on my head to hang on to the pole that steadies … More Fighting for Space in the City: The Commuter’s Pains and Little Glories
It’s raining again. The weather has become a popular topic of conversation these days. When I pass the cleaning man in my apartment building as I head out for a run, and he asks how I’m doing, I smile and tell him that I’m doing well, and himself? And he tells me he’s well too, happy … More A Sunless Summer in Paris
We decided to have dinner in the park. We like to save money and eat well when we travel, so we rode our bikes over to the Hakaniemi Market Hall and decided to take our food to go so we could picnic at Kaisaniemi park, right in the heart of the city. We had only been in Helsinki for … More Talking to Strangers
Over the course of the past three and a half years, I spent roughly 8,000 minutes in a classroom. I listened to lectures, took notes, wrote papers, crammed for tests, over-flooded my already busy schedule with internships and part-time jobs, and checked all the boxes that would land me a degree. Then, in about five minutes, … More Becoming Adult: More Transitions and Growing Pains
Right now, I feel more myself than I have in a long time. Over the course of the past year, I have often found myself struggling with a sense of who I am in the context of different environments. I’ve been somewhat identified by my “background.” I’m Kate from Houston, Texas; Kate the American; Kate who is half … More A Cross Cultural Identity Crisis
Sometimes I try to remember what it felt like the first time I made a friend. The furthest back I can remember using the term “best friend” I think was when I told my parents and anybody who asked that a little girl I spent all my time running around and holding hands with in my first pre-school … More Making Friends on the Playground
Over the weekend my roommate was out of town, and for the first time since I’ve lived in this apartment, I was left home alone. When she reminded me last Thursday before she left that she wouldn’t be home until Tuesday, I felt that tiny, horrible bubble that rises in my stomach to signal the … More I’m a Close Friend of Mine
Big Rose is the affectionate (or, at times, not so affectionate) nickname of the backpack I travel with. She’s a violent/rose shade, hence the nickname, and about two and a half feet tall and one foot wide on a good day. On a bad day, when my pockets are empty but my backpack is full of … More Two Weeks, Two Continents, and a Lesson on Sharing
We flew out of Paris around 9:30pm on that Thursday, and were lucky to be on one of the few flights that wasn’t cancelled in the air traffic controllers’ strike going on in France. We booked an airbnb in Södermalm, a young, hip area of the city, and spent the weekend exploring the surrounding slew … More Written from the Ground: Part Two – Sweden
The Transition Artist 