Looking Back on Another Crazy Year

This past year has been a wild ride. It's not a stretch for me to say that it contained the highest highs I've ever had in my life, as well as the lowest lows. Moments I forgot the world existed because of how happy I was, and moments where I was just going through the motions to get to the next day. Looking back, I'm shocked the universe was able to pack so much in in just 365 days, and I already know the next 365 are going to be another wild ride.

Last December and early January was one of those lows. After an incident in Khartoum, which drained me physically and emotionally, I returned to Washington more than a year earlier than expected. I had anticipated two years overseas living and working and traveling, and suddenly my life was uprooted, with only a few days' notice. I was in a funk, trying to process the events that led to my quick return to Washington. I used the rest of January and almost all of February to pick myself back up. I spent a lot of time with friends and family, and even if I didn't know it at the time, I am now extremely grateful to the friends who encouraged me to go out, whether for a dinner or a few hours outside the house.

By the time February was ending, I felt that I could really reengage the world and decided to use my unexpected return to Washington to try my hand at dating again. It had been a fair time since I had been on a real, proper date, although that was largely because I was "focusing on my career." While I don't have any regrets about focusing on my career, I realize now that the personal relationship side was lacking, and not just a little. The dating pool in Khartoum was...limited, to say the least. The dating pool in Washington is much bigger and I needed to take advantage. Through early March I had three dates, two of which I noted in my earlier post about girls who were incapable of hiding their crazies. The third, however, was not crazy. One date turned to a second, to a third, and is now at a point that I've lost count of the number of dates.

The dating mostly continued in April and May, although it was punctured by three trips--one week to St. Thomas; two weeks to Lagos and Yaounde; and two weeks to Stockholm, Oslo, and Copenhagen. On St. Thomas, I did some of the touristy things I hadn't done on any of my previous trips, such as visiting Coral World, a marine park and conservation center. Lagos and Yaounde was my first trip back to Africa since leaving in January (can't keep me away for long!). Among the most interesting parts of this trip for me--as odd as this might sound--is that I finally found my least favorite airport in the entire world. I've flown into and out of 91 airports in my life, and Nsimalen International Airport in Yaounde was by far my least favorite. Even countries like Burundi and Comoros had better airports, as well as tiny Mwanza, Tanzania. So congrats to Yaounde?

My trek through Scandinavia also had a nice milestone. The crossing from Sweden to Norway meant that I had finally visited 50 countries (a few days later, Denmark would make it 51). Despite their similarities, the three Scandinavian capitals were all so different. Stockholm was a business city and wasn't exactly my cup of tea. Oslo had a cool vibe and I'd love to go back. Copenhagen was the hipster that is fun for a few days but could certainly become tiring trying to live in it every day. That was my last big vacation because I started an assignment that doesn't allow for me to do my fun 2-3 week jaunts in other parts of the world.

That also means that I spent the rest of the summer and the fall not focused on my next overseas adventure, but on me and the still relatively new relationship. An outdoor movie, an interactive modern art exhibit, apple picking...these are all things I did because I had someone to do them with. Two years ago on Christmas I wrote a sad post that wasn't intended to be a pity post, but it basically asked what I was supposed to do as Jewish, single, and alone on Christmas. I may still be Jewish, but I'm not single and alone. I have reached the highest of my highs this year.

So how did this year compare by the numbers? Well, I flew 39,114 miles this year (about 5,000 more than last year) on 25 flights (1 less) through 19 airports (6 less) in 9 countries (1 less). Of those airports, 7 were airports I flew into or out of for the first time. I experienced Ethiopia, Nigeria, Cameroon, Sweden, Norway, and Denmark for the first time, but missed out on going to Lalibela (Ethiopia) and the fjords (Norway), two places on my "want to visit" list. There's always next year to cross some places off!

That was my 2017. Started from a deep low, and made it to very high high that I'm sure will only continue to get higher throughout 2018. I look forward to seeing what the new year actually has in store!

No contest in my mind that this was the best song to come out of 2017:

We'll Be Moving Momentarily

And with that, half the people in the DC area cringed, then sighed, then gave up on getting to work on time. It's amazing how one simple phrase--seemingly innocuous to the outside ear--can evoke so many emotions from people in a metropolitan area of several million. People from Ashburn and Springfield to Laurel and Frederick have strong feelings about the word "momentarily," all thanks to the inability of the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority (WMATA) to accurately know what the word means.

In WMATAland, momentarily ranges from a low of a few seconds to as many as 15 minutes. I'm a transportation junkie and some of the blogs on transportation and smart growth in the area have rightly pointed out that people would prefer to hear nothing than hear this phrase which should mean so much but really means so little. With no communication, I don't expect my train to move and therefore get excited every time it does. Yes, a problem, but at least setting the bar low. Even though I know "momentarily" has such a wide range here, I always believe this time will be a correct application of the word and that my train will, in fact, be moving momentarily.

I started conceptualizing this post on Sunday as a post about catchphrases and things we say so much that we have warped the meanings of those words. I have a lot of them and am trying to be better about saying words I truly mean. But then my Monday morning commute rolled around, and in true WMATA fashion, there were unannounced delays and lots of momentarilies. So a post about catchphrases will have to wait (maybe forever...I intend to come back to topics but then forget about it) and instead, y'all get a lovely post about WMATA. And the fact that we are not, contrary to what the train conductor says, moving momentarily as we hold each stop for several minutes and in between stops for several more.

No matter how bad the commute may be, my day is always brightened when I get off the Metro and my favorite street musician--Emma G--is performing. She's a good singer, has a positive attitude, and it's hard walking away from Metro steamed after hearing her. Sadly, she wasn't outside Metro on Monday. :(

Hiding Your Crazy

We all have a little crazy inside of us, and most of us are socially aware enough to know how to tone it down. But sometimes the crazy just shines through anyway, either because you're comfortable with the other people around or because it's so strong that no amount of shielding can keep it all in. Especially in dating, I try to hide things that might be seen as nutty--such as talk of zombie apocalypses and wormholes, or some of my excessively OCD qualities--until I feel confident that the girl won't roll her eyes and then ghost me. But over the past few years, there were three incidents that make me think that others don't have the same filter to hide their crazy.

First there was R, who on date 1 told me I held hands wrong. Apparently when a couple holds hands, the girl's thumb should end up on top or else the man is perpetuating the United States' misogynistic culture by subjugating women to being under men. No matter that sometimes hands just fit better together one way over another; for instance, when I clasp my hands, my left thumb ends up over my right one. Against my better judgment, there was a date 2 where I learned that I was discriminatory against people who were left-handed. The easiest way to see that was that when I cross my arms my right hand shows while my left hand is tucked under my right arm. Needless to say, there was no date 3. I felt that someone who find faults in such inane things as holding hands and crossing arms was trending towards what I deem crazy and would find endless faults in everything else in my life.

Then there was C, who is a huge fan of soccer. Except not playing the sport...or watching it. To play the sport would require athletic ability, and being on an open field opens one up to being hit by lightning (even on a clear day) or being attacked by birds that might be flying overhead (all her words, not mine). When I asked if she liked to watch the sport, she said that 45 minutes straight with little action and (on TV) no commercials made it boring. So I'm still not quite sure what part of soccer she is a fan of, but it doesn't amount to playing the sport or watching it.

Finally there was J, whose side job is as a balloon animal maker for children's parties. During the middle of the date, to appease a rather raucous child sitting at the table next to us, she reached into her bag and took out an air pump and some balloons, and proceeded to make the child a turtle. This attracted pretty much every other child in the restaurant, and so she continued to make balloon animals and other things (including a sword and a soccer ball) until she was out of balloons. She assured me later that she doesn't usually do this, but she does carry around the balloons and the pump at all times, so it wasn't the most convincing comment.

I am sure there are people out there for R, C, and J who don't find those things crazy, but I am none of those people. I felt like I hid some of my crazy on the dates, but they just let it all out. What scared me was the idea that they might have thought they were hiding their crazy, meaning there would only be more to come. That wasn't something I wanted to stick around for.

Something not crazy? My love of the song below: What Ifs by Kane Brown, featuring Lauren Alaina. Enjoy!

Catching Up

I'm a clean inbox sort of guy. Having more than five emails in my inbox can stress me out, especially if any of them are unread because I still have some sort of action I need to take on them. This extends beyond just my inbox and includes things like my YouTube subscriptions and DVR too. Based on previous experiences, it usually takes me about 1 week to catch up on TV for each week I am away. Except this time.

I cleaned out my DVR before I left on a two-week work trip in late April. I then had six days back before going on a two-week vacation. And from there, I felt like I was swimming in an awfully-full DVR. To the point I got excited when I had it regularly under 50%. But even though it's my DVR and not something actually important, my inability to clear it out was incredibly frustrating.

Until today. 118 days after I left on that trip in April, I finally finished clearing out all of the shows, movies, and specials I had recorded. Add that to the fact that I only have 4 emails in my inbox, and I feel as if I am caught up and have complete control over all of these easy elements of my life.

An empty DVR!!!

I know it's silly and that there are more important things to get concerned about, but as someone who likes everything in its place and doesn't understand how some people could have unread messages (or record shows without ever watching them), I'll take the victories as I get them.

As for something making me happy right now, I love Pink's new song, so here it is. Hope you enjoy it too.

My Journey With Harry

On my 12th birthday, my aunt gave me one of the best gifts I ever received. I didn't realize it at the time, but one simple gift was my first step to getting lost in another world, making friends that I feel like I will always have, and enjoying the power of the word. For my 12th birthday in 1999, my aunt gave me a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone and told me to enjoy the adventure. And boy did I ever.

It was a slow start. My first few months with the book were a series of fits and starts while I tried to understand the new world so eloquently described on the pages. After about five months of mixed results, I finally decided to dive in and see what the burgeoning hype around this Harry Potter kid was all about. Within a few days, I found myself in Diagon Alley, aboard the Hogwarts Express, and roaming the castle with my new best friends. I became enamored with the work of 650-year old Nicolas Flamel and started thinking about what I would see if I looked in the Mirror of Erised. I learned how to correctly pronounce Wingardium Leviosa and discovered--to Professor Snape's delight--the wide variety of things that are magic and that make the magical world magical. I remember thinking, "What took me so long to read this book?"

After Harry vanquished Voldemort for the second time, I couldn't wait any longer. I borrowed the second and third books from my Language Arts teacher (she had them in the classroom) and had a deadline of mid June--the end of the school year--to finish them. I went full-force into reading. Then in 2000 when the Goblet of Fire tome came out, I bought it with the intention of reading it on the 6-hour drive up to Boston and the family vacation to Cape Cod. I had only 3 chapters left when I got in the car to start our trip.

I think one of the main reasons I loved the series was because the characters were relatable. I was practically the same age as them for most of the series, so when Harry dealt with the awkwardness of talking to girls, I dealt with that same awkwardness. When Harry started being more cognizant of who his friends were and how they all worked together as a team, I was understanding who my friends were and why we were all actually friends. I was Harry. But I was also Hermione, the bookworm who sometimes missed the social cues. And I was Ron, the "less interesting" person in my friend group. And I was Neville, trying to get in with the popular clique. And Ginny, the person you wouldn't want to double cross. And Luna, the fiercely loyal but quirky friend. And I was even Draco, the kid aware of his parent's expectations but also trying to find his identity in a wacky world. In short, I saw a bit of myself in each of the characters, and I understood the trials and tribulations they went through because growing up is hard whether your'e a wizard or a muggle.

I laughed with the characters and cried with them too. And while the movies weren't perfect, they took the images in my head and made them real. I see Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson when I think of the main trio. The books introduced me a world I could only dream of being a part of. The movies made me believe that the world really existed.

I remember reading the last book with an impending sense of doom, as if the world I loved was going to disappear. "But there are always the movies," I told myself. That let me put off the pain for just a little bit longer. But then the final movie premiered and that feeling returned. I laugh-cried at Professor McGonagall's joke as she activated the stone statues and told them to do their duty and protect the school. I beamed with pride as Molly Weasley showed her fierce side and destroyed one of the most evil witches of the modern era. And even though I knew how it ended, I couldn't help but sit on the edge of my seat hoping Neville would kill Nagini.

Finally the series was over. I would have to accept that I wouldn't see my friends as I had for the past 12 years. That doesn't mean I stop thinking about them, though. ABC Family--now FreeForm--ensures that the moves are easily accessible whenever I want to waste a few hours on a weekend. I keep the books--now all very worn, including my copy of Goblet of Fire which is literally falling part--fresh by opening them up and returning to my favorite passages, reimmersing myself in the magical world. I take online quizzes that tell me where I'd end up if my letter for Hogwarts and the registry of muggle-born wizards wasn't destroyed in the Battle for the Ministry in 1996 (my letter would have come in 1997/1998). So even though the series is over and has been for years, my many years with Harry, Ron, Hermione, and everyone else in that fantastic world means that I will never not be a part of it. I joined when I was 12, and I will remain until my last breath.

So thank you, Harry Potter, for showing me the wonders of another world, a world I can't physically be in but which is a major part of me now. And also a big thank you to my aunt who introduced me to Harry before I even knew who he was or could envision how big a part of my life he would play. As the great Albus Dumbledore said, "Let us step out into the night and pursue that flighty temptress: adventure!" And what an adventure it has been and will continue to be.

Also, of course this makes me happy. Not only is John Williams brilliant, but could anything be more fitting to express all of my emotions surrounding Harry Potter than this iconic theme?

Falling in Love With Oslo

Cities have vibes, personalities, characters. I am a firm believer that a person's personal vibe can match with a city's, and those are the places that you sometimes hear someone say, "I could see myself living there." Up until now, my list of locations where I felt my personal vibe match a city's vibe was pretty small. In the US, it consisted of Washington, DC, and Boise, Idaho. And perhaps places like Atlanta, Georgia, or Albuquerque, New Mexico, but I'm not fully sure about those. Abroad, the list is even shorter, consisting of only Port Louis, Mauritius, and maybe Toronto, Canada, although Toronto is in line with Atlanta and Albuquerque. So if you're keeping track, I could only see myself enjoying living long-term in Washington, Boise, or Port Louis. And would consider Atlanta, Albuquerque, and Toronto. Not an extensive list, but that list has just grown by one: Oslo, Norway.

Slottsparken (Palace Park)

My love of Oslo started from the moment I stepped off the train from Stockholm. There was a pep in the step of the people in the train station. People were smiling and laughing, even the people with headphones in. There were people buzzing around outside the train station (this was a Sunday late afternoon). It just felt...right. My following three days, out and about walking and seeing the sights, just added to my love of Oslo. Whereas Stockholm felt sterile and forced, Oslo was relaxed and natural. There was a diverse group of people on the streets of Oslo, and those who didn't match the blond hair/blue eyed stereotypical Scandinavian look or look like they were direct descendants of Erik the Red--especially those whose heritage comes from places like Somalia, South Sudan, and Pakistan--actually blended in with the crowd. And then the beauty of the city didn't hurt either, especially with all of the green space everywhere!

This is not to say that Oslo was perfect. Some things were just bizarre, like (1) the prevalence of unicorn balloons everywhere, including one on my floor in the hotel (and strangely, these balloons never seem to deflate). Other things made me think someone needs to bop Norwegians on the head. For instance, (2) just because the temperature got to 65 or 70 does NOT mean it's shorts weather. Or a time to go sunbathing in a park. Those temperatures are still on the cooler side. (3) Then there's the cost. Oslo is consistently rated as one of the most expensive cities in the world, and it shows. I've basically decided that I'll just deal with four days of Oslo expenses later. (4) Separately, Norwegian doesn't sound like a real language to me. I have a hard time explaining what I hear when people speak Norwegian, but the best approximation I can come up with is that it is a bunch of Germans trying to sound out English words and accidentally getting into a spitting competition (I told you this was hard for me to describe!). And finally, (5) this sun things needs to be sorted out. The sunset after 10pm, with a light-ish twilight until about midnight, which then returns by about 2am for a sunrise not long after 4am is really messing with my internal clock.

But overall, I loved Oslo, and here are a few of my favorite photos:

Bislett Stadium, 1952 Oslo Winter Olympics

Det Kongelige Slott (Royal Palace)

Operahuset Oslo (Oslo Opera House)

Fields on Bygdøy Peninsula

Vikingskipshuset (Viking Ship Museum)

Aker Brygge Marina

And for the video that makes me incredibly happy, here's a song I've heard a lot here in Oslo. I don't understand Norwegian (see #4 above), but it's such an infectious and happy-sounding song!

Stockholm Was Not Made For Me

Stockholm is a beautiful city, and May is a wonderful time to visit it. With daytime temperatures in the 60s and low 70s (and even one day where it made it to 81!) and a sun that's out for 18 or so hours, the air is comfortable and there's plenty of time to get in your sightseeing. As much as I loved these elements of Stockholm, the city's layout did not fit with how I like to explore new cities. Spread out over 17 islands and with a pretty significant mainland portion, Stockholm's street grid did not allow me to make an easy loop around to everything I wanted to see. Instead, I kept finding myself forced back onto one of the bridges connecting the islands, a frustrating endeavor. In the end, over my 3 days in Stockholm, I walked almost 35 miles through city blocks of Norrmalm and Gamla Stan, around the more residential island of Sodermalm, through the King's former hunting area of Djurgarden, across to the suburban-feeling Kritineberg, and up to the urban parks of Bellevueparken and Hagaparken.

I also had a hard time with the currency. Unfortunately, it it's not dollars or euros, I feel like it's fake money. With an exchange rate in the 8.7 Swedish krona (SEK) to the US dollar range, I had difficult figuring out relative prices. Was my 10 SEK candy bar a good deal or a bad one? What about my 100 SEK pizza?

With Stockholm behind me, tomorrow I move on to Oslo. Hopefully its layout is more conducive to me making a loop, because I already know that the currency situation will continue to be problematic (8.4 Norwegian krone (NOK) to the dollar)! And so right now, I leave with this Voice UK 2015 audition, that I STILL can't get over. One of my favorites.

A Trip of Contrasts

In my first trip back to Africa since leaving Sudan in January, I felt like I experienced two extremes of the continent. Lagos, despite its size, felt organized. There was a rhythm, a pulse, to the streets. Highways connected major points, and there was a noticeable drive in the local population. Yaounde felt different. It was more chaotic. Even many of the main roads were one lane in each direction, twisting and turning through neighborhoods and lined with an odd assortment of shops and half-finished buildings. The people were also much more subdued, rarely, if ever, cracking a smile. Helpful, but passive.

A Yaounde Sunset

Lagos felt modern, ready to push the limits of the 21st century. Yaounde felt traditional, plugging away down a well-trodden path.

Every time I travel, no matter where in the world I go, I learn a little something new about myself. On this trip, I discovered that big and crazy isn't necessarily my nemesis. Both cities had their charm, although I much preferred Lagos. Yes, I like the suburbs (the hustle and bustle of big cities can exhaust me), but big and organized works for me. In Lagos, the craziness somehow felt predictable, even if the predictability was that the traffic would be unpredictable. Yaounde lacked the organization I crave in my life.

While I think I've known about this trend for some time, I appreciate being able to take trip to new places, honing my understanding of myself. And so this week I'll go off for another two weeks, this time to Scandinavia. I look forward to seeing what I learn about myself!

In honor of Mother's Day, here's some #MomQuotes courtesy of Jimmy Fallon.

A Weekend of Opposites

I'm a New Jersey suburban guy who sometimes feels like he should have been born in the South. While I identify as a Northeasterner, I often catch myself saying y'all and am a huge fan of country music (yes, country music is pushing north, but its reputation is still in the South, so...). My experiences thus far in life have proven that I'm just as comfortable in a crazy big city as a rural middle-of-nowhere setting, at least temporarily. This weekend, I had different events Friday and Saturday night that really played into those opposites.

On Friday night, I drove about 45 minutes east to Silver Spring, Maryland, to attend Jewish services with a bunch of other young Jews, most of whom grew up in the Northeast. There was definitely an element of my childhood there, bringing back memories of camp and bonding with other young Jewish people. We laughed and ate and drank and told stories and enjoyed the company of others of a similar background. I felt a part of the community and absolutely loved that I was included.

On Saturday night, I drove about 45 minutes west to Mountville, Virginia, to attend a bonfire with a bunch of other young professionals, who are from a smattering of locations around the US. It reminded me of vacations to Niagara Falls and Oregon, where we roasted smores and spent time outside. We laughed and talked and did headstands and enjoyed nature. I felt a part of the group and absolutely loved that I was included.

As I approached Sunday, I really got to thinking about just how different these two experiences were. One was reminiscent of an urban area, one of a rural one. And what I loved was that I was really happy being part of both groups and participating in both events. I also realized that I listened to different music on my drives to each occasion--pop music to Jewish services, country music to the bonfire. So that was my weekend of opposites, two parts that make me the person I am.

This is my current song obsession. Like most of them, I have listened to it incessantly and don't care that it seems to be on the radio every 10 minutes.

Tale as Old as Time

Last weekend I went to see the new Beauty and the Beast. Reviews I saw online were mostly positive with a criticism being the fact that too much of it seemed like a redo of the animated version vice a fresh live-action version. I couldn't disagree more. The new version for me felt fresh but true to the animated version. It didn't feel like a repeat. It made me feel emotions with new scenes that tugged at the heartstrings, made me root for the Beast almost from the beginning given his new backstory, and made me hate Gaston even more. It made me understand Belle's point of view, and feel empathy for LeFou and the situation in which he feels he is stuck. That's what a movie is supposed to do, especially a remake of a movie from my childhood. Nostalgia met new feelings and meaning in a tale as old as time.

I was also immensely impressed with the new songs that I feel like really should have been in the original. Especially the Beast's song Evermore (my happy thing at the bottom of this post). The song is a mix of Broadway hero and acceptance of one's fate. I might be responsible for about 100+ of the nearly 2.9 million views on YouTube. My complaint about the songs was that Ariana Grande and John Legend replaced Celine Dion and Peabo Bryson. I love Ariana Grande. I love John Legend. I love the song. I didn't like them together on the song. In fact, I much prefer Ariana Grande doing Celine Dion singing the song!

So if you haven't yet, I recommend going to see the new Beauty and the Beast. Ignore the haters, enjoy the movie. I've been back a few weeks now, but I'm still working out a backlog of movies that were released while I was away (Moana and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them are top of the list), so seeing Beauty and the Beast before it left theaters was helpful so that I didn't accidentally add more movies to my list when it would be so easy to cross off!

Short post and disjointed, but I haven't posted in a long time so this is it. Plus, I really wanted to share Dan Stevens's version of Evermore.

Lemonade Out of Lemons

There's much to be negative about in the world. In the month since my last post, world peace still hasn't befallen the planet, the US political scene has remained as crazy as ever, and I'm still back in the States and not overseas like I wanted to be. However, I've started to settle into life back in the US. The coming back earlier than expected was jarring--my lemons--but I've decided that if I'm going to be here the foreseeable future, I might as well make the most of it--my lemonade. I'm not necessarily a negative person, but I'm also not the most positive around. So this lemonade out of lemons thing is a bit different for me and is taking some work. But I'm actually really happy with the way it's working out so far.

Last week I moved into a new apartment. I went from a three-bedroom townhouse before going overseas to a one-bedroom apartment, but I'm very happy here. Granted, I'm only one week in, but I'm living in a high-rise building, which is something I've always wanted to do. If I'm forced to be back, why not shake up my life and really just go for it, right? That's the attitude I took. The apartment is only about 2 years old, so the newness of it and all its finishings was something that attracted me to it. Furthermore, it's a FIVE-MINUTE WALK to a Metro station. That's closer than I've ever been to the Metro. So as long as WMATA doesn't permanently break down (not a guarantee these days), this is a perfect location.

Three weeks ago I bought a new car. I need some sort of transportation to live in this area, and I thought that if I'm going to be here for awhile, I might as well invest in something. So a new car (well, a 2016 model) I got. And five weeks ago I invested in a new iPhone. I was an Android guy, but in Khartoum I had an iPhone and I realized that it really is a good phone. I caved. I'm not proud of it, and over internal protestations, I'm adding my conversion to an iPhone (but no other Apple products...yet) to the list of "new me" elements. My lemonade from lemons.

As noted above, I have to work to maintain this mostly positive attitude. Getting cable was a major test (obviously), but this new outlook definitely has its benefits. Things don't bother me as much as they possibly could, and I feel like I'm being more flexible than usual. Projecting positivity outwards has improved the internal positivity. We'll see how long this attitude lasts, but in the five weeks I've been back in the US, it's kept me going and it's something I hope to be able to continue in the weeks and months ahead!

I feel like I've posted this song before, but Tangled was just on TV and I think this love song from it--"I See the Light"--is completely underrated. And it sounds amazing in pretty much every foreign language I've heard it in. I debated whether to post the English version here (featuring Mandy Moore and Zachary Levi), the European French version (featuring Maeva Meline and Emmanuel Dahl), or the Hebrew version (featuring Meshi Kleinstein and Michael Einav). Ultimately, though, there is something about the way Inna Voronova and Zakhar Klymenko sing the song in Ukrainian.

#YesMyPresident

I may not have voted for him and I may believe that there was some foreign influence in the election, but #YesMyPresident.

I may oppose many of his policies and I may think the administration's priorities are wrong, but #YesMyPresident.

I may dislike the hateful rhetoric and I may wish there was more compassion for underprivileged Americans, but #YesMyPresident.

I am tired of opening Facebook (or Twitter, or CNN) and seeing endless, many petty, complaints about the current administration. While some of the complaints are valid, the tendency to throw the kitchen sink and say that everything is a problem and everything is a scandal that proves Donald Trump is unworthy to be President is getting ridiculous. Fake news and overhyping small events are no longer a thing that only the far right does; now liberal news outlets are blatantly misinterpreting facts to continue to denigrate Trump, making it sound like these news outlets want him to fail. I want him to succeed because his success is America's success. I didn't necessarily like President Obama, but I never wished him to fail.

While I can respect people who articulately say why they oppose a policy, I instantly lose respect for the people who, a week after his inauguration, still end their posts with #NotMyPresident. Whether you like it or not, Trump is your President. He is not illegitimate just because you disagree with his vision for the country and how to achieve it. Yes, Hillary Clinton won more votes, but that doesn't make Trump illegitimate. He won the election based on the rules of the election. Had the rules been different, say by making the winner of the popular vote the winner of the election, both he and Clinton would have run their campaigns differently because that would have been what they were aiming for. Flawed as it may be, the US presidential election is based on who wins the Electoral College, not the popular vote, and Trump won the Electoral College.

I hope that as we move forward in the Trump era people will stop spinning each and every action taken by the Trump administration as the end of the world. And I hope that people can accept that despite differences of opinion and vision, Trump is the President. I have many reservations about his policy proposals and his unique approach to politics, but at the end of the day, Trump is #YesMyPresident.

Back to the Suburbs

I made my first journey to the African continent in 2008. I distinctly remember on my flight from Zurich to Dar es Salaam looking down at the great expanse of desert in Libya and Sudan and thinking, "It's a shame I'm never going to be able to go to these places." Eight years later, I got the opportunity of a lifetime, and as I stood in Addis Ababa waiting to board my flight to Khartoum, I knew I was going to a place I never thought I would go. After traversing southern and eastern Africa, I made it to Sudan, and things that once seemed impossible became possible. I remember being overwhelmed by Tanzania in 2008, but now, after six different trips to the continent (of varying lengths) and experiences in 14 of the 49 sub-Saharan African countries, traveling to the continent feels like coming home and I constantly look for ways to get back. That's probably one of the reasons I was so excited to move to Khartoum.

Sudan wasn't the first place I've ridden a camel, but
riding a camel by a bunch of pyramids is surreal.

Then, once I got to Khartoum, I felt like I became a better version of myself. Everything I wrote about in my six-month reflection still holds. I am more social. I am more assertive when necessary. I practice yoga. And I feel like a better person. What more could I ask for? When I came ot that realization, I knew that I had found the right tour for me. And as much as my colleagues thought I was weird for how much I truly began to LOVE Khartoum, it was the reasons--and the great community--that drew me in.

Sadly, however, life takes unexpected turns and the best-made plans get shattered. Life sees comfort and it jolts you out. As you can probably surmise based on this blog post's title, I have returned to the suburbs of Virginia. It wasn't what I planned, and I would have loved to finish my tour in Khartoum, but it just wasn't in the cards. I don't yet know what's next for me, but I look forward to finding out and seeing how whatever it is helps me continue to grow as a person and as a friend.

My 7.5-months in Khartoum were better than I could have ever imagined. I believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason, so for me to leave early, I need to believe that something good is just around the corner. And I had to be back in the US to see it. With that in mind, I plan on being ready to take advantage of whatever next comes my way!

I have sunset on Sudan....

While not the happiest post, here's a video that cheers me up. Multilanguage videos of Disney songs are awesome, and this is such a great and inspirational song.