Excuse the absence

Please do... I know that I promised that I would have daily updates from my journal about my trip, but my normal life takes more of my time than I remembered it taking. Odd, isn't it? As soon as I catch up to my life, I'll be back to posting more stories and more photos and more experiences that will hopefully make you want to be an adventurer! <3

"A witch or sexy kitten are the only two options for women."

It's pretty much true. When the world looks at women - the only way that it knows how to: superficially - all that it sees are witches and sexy kittens. Could it be that Sex and the City, even for Christian women, is a fountain of truth? I don't mean to pose rhetorical questions to cyber space; but it begged to be asked. And then there are two types of women... cute and hot. Why are there no labels in the attractiveness like smart, funny, sweet, adventurous? Other descriptive words that don't include superficial qualities. This may be an undeveloped idea, but it's just a surface thought provoked by the Sex and the City movie. That's all.

Blood and Honey: the true story

 

The word Balkan comes from two Turkish words. Bal: honey  Kan: blood. And being in Mostar and in Sarajevo you would understand how fitting that name is. How truly it describes the region. Bosnia i Herzegovina is still filled with blood and honey. The people are sweet yet filled with pain. And the land is beautiful, but filled with the blood of its' people. If only you had been there to see it. Oh, I wish that words could make you feel what my eyes saw. I wish that these photos meant to you what they mean to me.

Everytime we (my class and me) went somewhere that I knew there had been conflict only 10-15 years prior to our arrival, I desperately searched the buildings and landscapes for signs of destruction: namely shell holes. I was forced to wonder during all of my searching if I was doing something wrong... looking for only the open wounds rather than looking for the signs of healing. I felt strangely fascinated by all of the wholes and then... I felt... guilty. Guilty for wanting to see it all and feeling vaguely disappointed about the covered and filled in holes. Should I be ashamed of myself? I'm not sure. Should I know how to feel all by myself?

It was an alien situation for me. I didn't want to see the destruction, but I did; I was happy to see the repair and the progress. It means that the city is healing - that the people are slowly learning to forget the pain. This is what I want to do with the life that God has given me.

Kraljević: Croatian for Prince

Miroslav Kraljević
Ruski Ballet, 1912
Pen, Ink/ Paper

What I learned from my study abroad experience, be it in Croatia, Bosnia i Herzegovina, Montenegro, or on the Aer Lingus overnight flight from Dublin to New York is that American suck at being gentlemen. AMERICAN MEN NEED TO STUDY MAN-SKILLS ABROAD!!!

Never in all my life - with the exception of my brother and one other guy from the past - I have never been treated like such a lady! Men were so willing to help in any way! The American that I sat next to on my Dubrovnik to Dublin flight was no help at all; but the Irish gentleman that sat next to me on Aer Lingus flight EI 109 in seat 39 K (next to 39 H - yes, I went there) named Mark Hensley blew my mind with his gentlemanly behavior. Not only was he cute, he was sweet by helping me conquer the touch screen TV and by getting my backpack out of the overhead bin for me AND helping me put it on! I couldn't believe it!!! No American man has ever been so helpful without it being in his job description! WHERE ARE THESE MEN IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? I want one! The men at Hotel Peristil and all of the hostels that I stayed wouldn't let me carry my own bags or do anything. Coming from America where this never happens, to a country where it always happens made me feel like a lady. I felt like I was living in the 1950's where a lady was treated like a lady and her luggage wasn't rummaged through and her delicates were never seen.

As anti-feminist as this may sound, I liked being treated like a lady... even if it means that I am seen as the weaker sex, I liked it. A lot! And I can't wait to go back to Europe! I can't wait to pack my suitcase and get out there and explore the world and not always be treated like a lady. That's the risk I'm willing to take in this adventure that I call my wonderful life. <3

Proper English... we are dumb without it.

http://ereads.com/2011/07/can-one-typo-ruin-a-book.html

Dear World, Could you please stop being so breathtaking?

This is Dubrovnik from the Airport Shuttle bus window. This was my first view of the city that I was about to fall in love with. Even through the haze of a dirty window, it's a breathtaking city.  It was Sunday there; Monday here.
I tear just looking at this gorgeous city and thinking that I was there, that I have people that I left behind there... it's gut wrenching right now becuase I am unsure of when I will return to see them. There is Facebook, but once someone is friended, do we ever move past the acccept button? Still, it is lovely to know that I can contact them.

The conference enhanced the whole of the experience. I would say that it was like an intense tour from a classroom. I was able to absorb all of the amazing facts about the war and the current political situation and then apply that to the cityscape.

The worst thing about the city were the mass amounts of cruise boat tourists that were there to only buy from the "Made in China" shops on the Stradun, eat gilatto, speak only English, go swimming, and then leave at the end of the day. They were incapable of experiencing what I experienced. I had the true Dubrovnik at my disposal, they had the Stradun. I got lost in the streets, discovered new places, and purchased only "Made in Dubrovnik, Croatia."

If ever you make it to Dubrovnik, please do me one little favor: Stay longer than a day. Explore the surrounding regions!!! It's a place that you will cry for when your plane takes off to fly you home.

The Balkans

The word Balkan comes from two Turkish words: Bal meaning honey and kan meaning blood.
Having just returned three days ago from what can only be described as a whirlwind tour of awesomeness, my eyes will never see the world in the same way. The things that I saw, the emotions that swarmed my heart and soul left an impression upon my psyche that shall never dissipate.
I only wish that I had had the ability to feel more. I cannot tell you how many times I wanted to cry.
Over the next two weeks I will take pieces from my journal and post them here on my blog in order to share the experiences that have changed my life forever. Pictures and related stories will also be posted. I hope my love for east European cultures - namely Slavic cultures - will one day express themselves in my life's work... to be a Dr. Metcalf would be fulfilling I think.