A little over a year ago I was in a bar celebrating the French Rugby team’s qualification for the 2016 Summer Olympics. It was monumental. Rugby 7s had never before been an olympic sport, and the French team had never set foot in an olympic arena. On the evening that I celebrated France’s qualification for the games, I celebrated … More The Olympian from Afar
I celebrated the Fourth of July in France. An American friend and I wanted to have a barbecue to celebrate, but since we both live in apartments where barbecues aren’t allowed, we decided to go for the next best thing and head to a park in Paris. We threw a picnic. I only have a … More Why I Am Happy to Celebrate America in France
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
Someone knocked on the door. “Uh, Linet, someone’s at the door!” I called out, unsure if I should answer it. A face popped into view through the window next to the metal door, and Dorcas’ eyes peered in. Her short hair, cropped close to her head, bobbed as she nodded in greeting. Though I had only seen … More How Making Friends and Understanding Culture Are Directly Tied
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
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
A candle flickers on the table before me, and I leisurely take another sip of my wine. I’ve been sitting in my apartment, freshly cleaned as of this morning, for a few hours now, as I think over the events of the weekend and flip through my new e.e. cummings book. I love Sundays. I always … More Being Relational in Different Cultural Contexts
The Transition Artist 