WHICH WAY WILL YOU GO?

While taking a morning run up the Wasatch State Park canyon in Midway, Utah I came onto this road sign. Now I see these road signs on a regular basis, especially living in an area that is near many  canyons. However, when I saw this sign it meant something different to me then "slow down, tight turns ahead." I saw this sign as a sign for life. 

With the short amount of years that I have been given here on earth I have come to the conclusion that life is full of turns. Turns you choose, turns you don't, turns you have to slow down for, turns that are narrow and dangerous, and turns you can feel at complete ease on. I am at a stage of life where I am allowed the freedom to choose many of my "turns," and I have to say I quite enjoy it.  In the past six months I have chosen a turn that will change my life forever. I have decided to go on an LDS mission. Now I reasoned back and forth whether or not I wanted to mention or state my religion on this blog. I didn't want people discrediting me simply because I am a Latter-day Saint. I don't want anyone to feel as if I am preaching or demeaning any ones beliefs. I am a strong believer that every human being has the right to choose what they want to believe in, whether it's religion, nature, success, etc. I have chosen to believe in Jesus Christ because it is what fits for me. One of my favorite lines in a local artist's, Joshua James, song Beware it says, "And if its comfort or peace in religion you seek And it makes you feel whole, then it worked, don't you think?" Whatever you choose to believe in, you are still a human being and still someone that I would love to learn from and get to know. Now I want you to know, I will not mention my faith very often, unless it feels necessary to do so. So whether you agree with what I have chosen to believe in or not, try to see me in common ground (we are both human beings trying to find what works for us).

Now I am moving to Hong Kong, China for 18 months and will be unable to write on this blog until afterwards, however I promise you that the wait will be worth it. I am off trekking on a new adventure and I cannot wait to report back to you all about it. For now I leave you with these words. Believe in something, believe in something that makes you feel whole, that makes you want to become better each and every day. Develop a passion for a cause and advocate for it. We often times think, well what's the point if I know people across the world or even across the street will just keep on doing what I am advocating against. I have often felt this way, until I read a New York Times article called "Why Bother?" Now this article is advocating for an environmental cause, but I feel it can be applied to any cause you may be passionate about. You may think your voice is insignificant but trust me that even if your voice impacts one single person, that will be worth so much more then impacting absolutely no one by keeping your mouth shut. 

Life is going to take you onto so many different paths. Just remember that you are on earth for a reason, and someone's life is waiting to be changed for the better. Someone whose life could only be changed by you. So open your mouth and speak, become educated and passionate about things you love. Share it with others and as you ground yourself with something you love you will find that you will always have it with you regardless of which turns your life takes. Thanks for reading. Until I return...good luck.

INDIVIDUALITY - THE RWANDAN GENOCIDE.

Individuality – the quality that makes one person different from ALL others.

The garden you see above is called the “Rose Garden.” The Rose Garden was a monument located within a genocide museum located in Kigali, Rwanda. This garden was planted with each plant being a different species of rose/flower representing the individuality of the lost souls. As I sat in this garden, I began pondering on how we often generalize to lessen the pain of such atrocities. There were estimated to be around 2 million victims (in a recent report) in the Rwandan genocide – sound familiar? We generalize every person who was killed into a lifeless buzz word “victim.” In some cases, the people who were killed didn’t just have death come upon them, they fought; they fought for survival, they fought for their families, they fought for life. Each and every person we lose has their own story, whether it is long or short. 

During my interactions with the local Rwandan people I heard stories of extreme grievances, gruesome torture, and countless torn apart families. To give you a few examples, here are two stories I was told on a first-hand account.  I met a man (he will remain unnamed in order to protect his privacy) who had been sent off to catholic boarding school when he was younger. It so happens that because he was in a religious school, he along with his school mates were not harmed in the genocide. When he was released for holiday, he was informed that every family member, excluding his sister and father, had been burned alive in one of the relative’s homes (30 people in total).  The second account that I heard was of a boy who is twenty-four now, but was only four during the 1994 episode. All he remembers is that there was so much killing. He remembers not understanding why everyone was running the streets with machetes and clubs hurting his neighbors. He recalled one moment when he was hiding in the bushes near his home and as he looked across into his friend’s yard he watched all of his friends stand in a line getting hacked by a machete one by one (keep in mind he’s only four). He then returned home to find the same happening to his father and brothers. He was left alone with his sister.

To these survivors, their families and friends, these people were not simply “victims,” they were people they loved, people they played futbol with, people who existed in some of their fondest memories. Yes, these people may have “fallen victim” to the horrible circumstances, but we MUST recognize that each one of the people whose lives had been taken, came from somewhere. They came from families, they had trials, they had hopes and dreams, they had hobbies and jobs, and they were in fact a lot like each one of us. In one of the museums/memorial sites I visited in Kigali, there was a room completely filled with pictures of some of those whose lives had been taken. Some were smiling, some making funny faces, some holding their children or hugging their family members. Each and every one of these people was their own individual with their own life story.

One of the my favorite scenes in the movie Hotel Rwanda (a reenactment of the Rwandan Genocide) that impacted me,  is a conversation between Paul Rusesabagina (hotel manager) and Jack (American Journalist) in regards to video footage Jack had shot of the streets in Kigali:

 Paul Rusesabagina: I am glad that you have shot this footage and that the world will see it. It is the  only way we have a chance that people might intervene.

Jack: Yeah and if no one intervenes, is it still a good thing to show?

Paul Rusesabagina: How can they not intervene when they witness such atrocities?

Jack: I think if people see this footage they'll say, "oh my G** that's horrible," and then go on eating their dinners.

Now, you must understand that I am I not saying that we should all go and become depressed over the millions of atrocities that occur by the second all of the world including our own back yards (trust me I have taken this route), however I am saying that we need to recognize the fact that the people who these things are occurring to are actually real people (hey imagine that!). We cannot simply override them as “another problem I can’t help fix.” Keep them in your hearts, and at least give them the time of day as to become educated about their situation, or at least pay tribute to them in your own special way. 

 Messages written to pay tribute to those affected by the Genocide

  I use this post, along with the empathy in my heart, as a tribute to the many lives that were taken, as well as the many lives that were affected by the Rwandan Genocide. May God bless their souls, and may they rest in peace. 

I'M AWAKE, LOOKING AT THE STARS.

What does it mean to truly be awake? While driving in a rickety van crammed full of "Muzungus" (whites), a few of us played with the meaning of being awake. I looked up a couple definitions of the word and ended up with a consensus of it simply meaning not being asleep, to rouse from sleep if you will. However, there are often times I feel as though I am alive but not truly awake, and no I don't mean when I am trying to scrounge out of bed early in the morning. I mean when each day simply becomes a routine. When each moment no longer becomes relevant or even important. When the wave you receive on the street doesn't give you a second thought, or when your senses just seem dulled. Why is it that as we age we often loose sight of true excitement? We begin to step away from the question "why" and instead decide that it is not worth our time to ponder about it. We simply live off of others' perspectives of issues we seem not to understand.

Village Woman Washing Her Baby 

There have been few moments as I have grown that I can truly say that I was "awake." It disheartens me to think about what makes me truly feel -- love, heartbreak, fear etc. Why is it that we no longer take the time to become excited about a newly shaped cloud, or take the time to try and find the end of a rainbow? Our lives have become so congested with things that don't seem to matter. Ugandan life has helped me to realize the amount of unnecessary frills that we use to make ourselves feel alive. The families here have their siblings, their friends, their land (sometimes less) and yet I have not met a group of people that has a greater spirit. I feel as though the Ugandans have figured out what it means to be "awake." They have figured out what it means to live... and not in the way that we tend to think is living. (success, partying, sky diving etc.) This has led me to think of the quote I once read and really liked. I feel it applies to what I'm trying to say.

As I sat on dirt floors of a school room, I was surrounded by smiling children. Not caring that their uniforms were dirty and torn, they sang and danced with so much life that I couldn't help but feel truly "awake." At this moment, I felt a happiness that I didn't know existed. These school children were so excited to preform for us. After a couple songs, they came and pulled us up to dance with them. We jumped, sang and just enjoyed being together. I had no idea that true happiness could come from such a menial act. In this moment, I had realized what it means to "look at the stars." We may never have everything we want in life, but we must realize that we are blessed to have what we do. We must learn to stop looking at the mud and lift our head to the stars realizing that our perspective is everything.

Video of the Children
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QpBYsL8CdKo&feature=youtu.be

COLOR.

Stores in the Grand Bazaar

Where has the time gone

Where is my old disguise

The world has opened my soul 

And led me to my hidden demise

Every experience reaches new heights

As my discovery of the world brings new lights

New questions, new outlooks, new thoughts

My brain quickly finds more empty lots

The world can change a human like me

And a new found traveler you may be

Stop, put down the pencil and skip the math

Run with the wind and find a new path

Please open your eyes and look around

Your heart can feel the emotions that surround

If you let the colors of life guide you

You will find your dreams may begin to come true.

PEOPLE OF ISTANBUL.

When I travel I do what all tourists do – take lots of pictures, visit famous sights, and buy souvenirs. However, these are not the things that I find most fascinating. My favorite moments are not the sights I visited or the crazy pictures I took; they are the interactions I had.

In Istanbul I experienced a culture that was welcoming, warm, and wonderful. The pictures above are people I’d seen on the streets of Istanbul – street performers, dedicated workers, free liberty speakers. Each picture tells a little bit about their story. These people were just like the rest of us with different life experiences, different dreams, different trials, and different gifts to give. I find these characteristics and pockets of wisdom ever inspiring. While I was in Istanbul, these are some of the comments/stories I heard. Some are funny, some are heart-rending.

 “Hey lady, you are cute. You come back to me tonight.” – Old man who insisted on hip bumping each of us as we walked by.

“I have decided to ride my bike around the globe. It may take me a year or two, but now is my time to explore and learn before I have to grow up and set down roots. I started in France and am simply heading east until I hit the ocean. It has already been two months and I still have a lot left. It may not be “fun,” but it is a quiet enjoyment allowing me to think.” – 25 year old French man I met at the hostel on his way across the 

world.

“For you it is free.” “You can eat me too if you want.” – Man trying to get me to come into his restaurant.

“We left it all. We simply quit our jobs and set off. We have decided to ride our motorcycle everywhere we can go. We get to experience things no one else can.” – Couple from Denmark waiting for the arrival of their motorcycle (they had already drove all over Africa and were about to head to Amsterdam)

“I’m basically a bum. I quit everything and now I am just travelling the world.” – Australian man I met at the Hostel

“1 lira 1 lira.” “Chai Chai Chai!” – Young boys trying to earn money off all the thirsty tourists (they definitely made quite a bit off of me)

“How about a round of beers?” “No thank you, you can get some though (our reply).” “Naw, I only wanted to get drunk if you guys were.” – Argentinean man as we sat and watched the World Cup game

“The one thing I regret doing the most while drunk was losing my virginity. That is something that should mean more. Too many teenagers are ending up pregnant, and too many children are ending up with a life that isn’t deserved. “– good friend we met at the hostel

“In a gentle way, you can shake the world.” – Gandhi

Just as the quote states, it is in a gentle way that you can help change the world. With a simple smile, conversation, or listening ear you can help others feel the joy of life and help them to grow. You never know maybe along the way the people you interact with my teach you a lesson or help you to gain a new perspective, just as the people of Istanbul have done with me. In a gentle way, the people I met in have taught me things no person can learn from the words written in a book or studied in a classroom. They have taught me to live.

 I hope that you can take a moment or two and open your eyes. Take a look around you, talk to someone you would never normally approach. Learn their story, see what gifts they have to give learn to love and understand them (even if it is for a brief moment). The people around each of us, no matter where we are, have a light in them. Never will you discover what a great light it is until you search to find it.

ISTANBUL, TURKEY.

"The Blue Mosque"

Oh Istanbul...
Istanbul is such a beautiful city full of vibrant people and delicious food. Today I got to go into the Sultan Ahmed Mosque ("The Blue Mosque") seen above. As I walked in with shoe-less feet and a headscarf, the view was absolutely breathtaking. With stained glass windows and large arched ceilings, the mosque emitted a feeling of excellence. To think that such a building was built hundreds of years ago without the technology and materials that we have today.

My view when first entering the mosque.

The dedication of those participating in this religion is something that never ceases to amaze me. The women wear burqas and headscarves in extremely hot and humid weather, sacrificing their comfort for their beliefs. The men of whom I witnessed in the airport who laid out their kilims and did their prayers regardless of the looks they were relieving.They truly live their faith. Not only are they dedicated, but humble and giving. To allow hundreds of loud, smelly foreigners to enter into your place of worship is an act of true sacrifice and humility.

While visiting a palace today, a group of Muslim scholars stood behind me. Although I could not understand their words, they had a certain essence about them. I know that sounds almost ridiculous, but I felt as if they were thinking on a deeper level. I felt as though they were philosophers pondering the questions life. Now I may be stereotyping, which I try to refrain from, but if you were standing in my shoes I'm sure you would feel the same thing. To think on a deeper level is something I try to strive for. To answer questions that nobody dares to understand, or to ponder things that are often left unspoken is an art. An art that requires practice and time, making life interesting and full of depth. It is an art that truly inspires. 

One of the men, of whom I speak.

I hope one day to master such an art. I hope that when I'm old people may say that I am cultured and inquisitive, thinking on a deeper level -- someone who truly understands the meaning of life. I hope drift off in a daydream answering the questions that nobody dared to ask.

THE FIRST CHAPTER.

In most cases, you can tell what a book is going to be like by the first chapter you read. Well the same thing goes with new adventures. I sat on the edge of the row two bags in hand and a smile on my face (that didn’t seem to disappear no matter how hard I tried). I couldn’t help but laugh as the realization of what I was about to do set in. I have always dreamed of going to Africa, ever since I was a little girl. With exotic dances, beautiful people, and breathtaking wildlife I couldn’t help but dream of immersing myself in such a culture. Well the first chapter of my adventure went a little like this.

 Across the row sat a larger man who insisted on getting out of his chair at least fifteen times. Each time, without his realization, I had to awkwardly turn my head as his large backend came way to close to my face.  I simply just had to laugh at the now severed personal bubble that used to stand between us. The couple who sat beside me had a very awkward form of PDA. Within ten minutes of take-off, the man had picked his nose and was trying to wipe it on his girlfriend’s face (cute or disgusting? – that’s for you to decide).  I kind of shook my head thinking that I had just misjudged some harmless flirting, but her disgusted face as she reached for her forehead dismissed such a thought. I almost felt bad for the younger boy who sat in front of me as I look at his anxious and distraught face. He managed to scan the plane with wide eyes almost the whole four hours. I couldn’t decide whether he had never flown before, or if he was simply just afraid of heights. Then to top it off, there were the three amigos. Each of the three men had the exact same tattoo -- a huge tribal sleeve on their left arm. I couldn’t help but imagine up some exciting story about how they all were connected, and why they all had the same tattoo. I happened to zone out a little, and realized that I was staring right at one of them who happened to give me quite the dirty look. I quickly looked away embarrassed once I realized he had a silver ring wrapped around his left ring finger. These are some of the moments that make up the “first chapter” of my trip ,and from what it seems I’m going to have intriguing moments, disgusting moments, and a lot of misplaced judging as I travel to my far off destination.

ANGUS & JULIA STONE.

One of my ALL TIME favorite brother-sister duos. I found them several years ago when a dear friend of my suggested that I look them up. I have been in love ever since. Perfect harmonies and the occasional harmonica make for the perfect composition. They both share a love and passion for writing music and consider themselves immersed in a  long lasting friendship. Check them out here: http://angusandjuliastone.com/

From: Australia
When: 2006
Albums: A Book Like This (2007), Down the Way (2010), Memories of an Old Friend (2010)
Interesting: Their parents played as a folk duo before they were born.

This is one of my recent favorites by them. -- give it a listen

WELCOME.

To start off my blog, I wanted to post this video because I believe that it sums up what I'm about. I am a fellow wanderer who loves life and the excitement it brings. I'm an advocate for all things happiness, whether it be helping the environment, learning about different cultures, or going on new adventures. I love traveling and learning new things. I believe that having a candor love for everyone around us can change the world and make it a better place. I love experimenting with new things and advocating for a good cause. I know you all want to know what you're getting yourselves into, so here ya go! This blog is a travel, inspiration, daydreams/thoughts, recipe, and just about everything blog. I will post about adventures that I embark on, stories that inspire me, artists that need to be spotlighted, etc. I believe that passion is wasted unless pursued. That is why I have created this space, to share with you my passions and to help you to pursue your own. -- h a p p y  r e a d i n g !