Kilimanjaro, Africa [1]

Tanzania, Africa - (July 22 - Aug 2)

Ernest Hemingway envisioned his heaven as one of utter bliss and incomprehensible beauty, the one he could only find in the snows of Kilimanjaro. His novel may have been a fictitious story, but his vision was far from being just a dream.

19, 344 is certainly a daunting number and 7 days is a long time to "experience the sublime of Mother Nature." But by the time I found myself at the bottom of the mountain a week later, standing before the trailhead, I wanted to do it all over again.

Our team of 15 had awaken at 12 AM two nights before to climb for 8 hours in the dark under the glowing full moon. Armed with our goo and shotblocks, we put one tired foot in front of the other. Nearby, two of our six Tanzanian guides looking out for our safety as they sang beautiful African melodies, lyrical and soothing. They kept me going. As we approached Stella Point at 6 AM, the sun was just peeking over the horizon, its rays spreading warmly across the chilly sky.

Gorgeous, isn't it?

Another hour or so brought us to the highest point in Africa. Glaciers towering nearby, snow crunching below our feet, and the clouds swirling below us. The sun was glistening off the surrounding white. I could feel the presence of something far greater than me and I finally understood what Hemingway had so eloquently put in words.

Adrenaline of a Lifetime

The next 10 days - exciting and terrifying. Despite the four different stops our flight will take before arriving at the Kilimanjaro International Airport, I can't wait to see what awaits me on the other side.

I've always loved adventure and this trip will bring me: mountain climbing, safari, and who knows what else! A foreign land, a foreign people, a foreign culture. So much to learn and so much to capture.

I'll be sure to write down every thought, notion, experience and to snap pictures of every image but I'm sure nothing will ever amount to being there in the moment. Wish me luck and I hope to bring you a snippet or two from the highest point of Africa :)

Oh Summer

Summer love, beach, and friends: nothing cheers your heart or clears your mind like a day with the bestest of friends. From basking in the lovely sun while munching on watermelon and cherries to singing Justin Bieber on the sidewalk in the dead of night, a Sunday on the beach and at Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk will always be unforgettable. As I lay on my towel in a tangle of tanning legs and dear friendship, I couldn't help but love how much we've changed in the years we've grown together.

As my friend, Andrew, sagaciously said, "Let's make some Kodak memories!" and although he was attempting to be jocular, there was quite a lot of truth to his words.

It's hard to imagine we'll soon be seniors, graduates, alumni. Going off in different directions, leading different lives, and changing the world in so many different ways. But even when we go our separate ways, it'll be hard to forget the class of 2011.

Oh, and don't forget our elderly reunion as retirees at the nearby nursing home!

It's All about the Pose

The gentle rocking of the waves
The rough push and pull of the currents
The warm water in my cupped hands as I paddle
The wind playing with the tips of my hair
The sunlight glinting,
The friendly blueness inviting,
The seawater spraying,

It was the perfect day, the perfect life.

Dear Gatsby,

I can't fall asleep because I'm afraid I will dream. Don't get me wrong - dreams are lovely. Sometimes I fly in my dreams, swim in the deepest of oceans, or dream of this peaceful darkness with stars winking high above my head. But then, there are those seemingly realistic ones that scare me the most because I don't want to mix up my fantasy and my reality.

Dreams make you do things you'd usually never do - they snatch you right out of your comfort zone. They give you this courage that blossoms from your chest and makes your heart thump with such power, leaving you weak with emotion. They make you smile even wider, walk a little taller, hold your head a bit higher. And sometimes, I want those kinds of dreams never to end.

But you showed me the line, the invisible one. The one that stops the pragmatic dreamers from jumping off the cliff but remains hidden from the heart-filled fools who take just one more step.

And the worst part is, I'm both.

You were better than all the rest. Nick was right; you were innocent, wistful, and your very downfall was the best part about you. You and I share something in common: "an extraordinary gift for hope." Some say hoping isn't wise and inevitably, leads to disappointment, but I disagree. Life is all about hope, it's about striving, it's about keeping that green light in your mind's eye.

Perhaps I can fall asleep at ease now, knowing that in the end, reality is its own kind of dream.

Thank you,

Kristi

Banana?

ABC (American Born Chinese) – That’s what one lady called me, almost teasingly after hearing blatant American accent in my stumbling Mandarin. My cousin threw me a grimace, bargained for me, and away I went with a happy purchase in one hand but a sickly feeling in my stomach.

I looked exactly like everyone else in the teeming night market: tan skin, long black hair, and curious ebony eyes. We all crowd stalls of trinkets, shoes, food, and clothing, trying to snag the cheapest prices. We all love to drink sugarcane water and eat almond jello. But I was not like them, and I felt like a stranger in a foreign world with a face that just happened to blend in.

As I see those uniformed teens going home late at night on mopeds and the cute Asian couples that dot the streets in the wee hours of the morning, I wonder to myself, Wow, life here is so much freer than mine. Today in the U.S, parents are extremely reluctant to allow their children out of the house alone at 9 o’clock, let alone 1 AM. The sense of safety and trust that pervades Taiwan is shocking – it’s almost like this little country has created its own bubble, shielded from the looming horrors of the outside world.

For four straight days, I delighted myself in the delicacies of my ancestral culture: dumplings, rice porridge, sesame mochi, egg rolls, fried rice, and so much more. I wandered through the small stores crammed with jewelry, scarves, and obnoxiously loud salespeople. I learned how to call my own taxi and direct him to my destination with smooth Chinese. Yet, all the while, I felt drawn to the emanating American brands of McDonald’s or Starbucks Coffee just around the corner.

It’s like straddling the fence, a fence dividing two very different cultures. One cultivated through the centuries with the rise and fall of empires; the other built on diversity, opportunity, and freedom. These thoughts came rushing into my mind as I stood in the subway, watching hordes of Chinese people of all ages swarm around me. It's like seeing life through two lenses. For all we know, every "truth" has two sides to it, and I, for one, love seeing both.

Ghosts of the Past

Tonight, I humored myself with a delightful movie starring Matthew McConaughey and Jennifer Garner: the Ghosts of Girlfriends Past. Though the movie itself was utterly predictable and the moments too perfect to be true, I couldn't help but realize that so many situations in my life could turn out the same way.

The entire lesson of the movie can be summed up in a couple words: What goes around comes around. Naturally, McConaughey plays a young, successful man dubbed Connor Mead who lives life to the lees; well at least in a sexual context. Let's just say that he is the epitome of what most of us, girls, call a player. With absolutely no sense of commitment and what I call, marital-phobia, he picks up and throws aside girls like a stack of worn-out cards. The night before his "kid brother's" wedding, Connor nearly ruins the greatest moment of both his life and his brother's. Quite pathetically, he seems arrogantly oblivious of the disaster he wreaks; that is, until the ghosts of his past girlfriends visit and completely change him.

Seeing the numerous girls of his past parade before his eyes, Connor begins to realize that all of it resulted from a feeling of desperation and a fear of feeling heartbroken. When left on the floor alone, choked up over his failure to ask his childhood friend-turned-love to dance, Connor sees her, Jenny Perotti, kiss another guy and never did he forget that moment. Years later, Connor has found a way to never feel that emptiness again, simply by shutting out his emotions and refusing to feel attached to any girl who comes into his life.

And to me, I don't know which is the saddest part: to lose touch with your feelings or to live perpetually alone with nobody to truly share your life with. Being heartbroken is perhaps the worst thing you could ever wish upon anyone. To let someone in, to allow someone to know your most intimate thoughts and emotions, only to see him step out of your life and leave you staring after where he used to be - that is the worst pain for any girl. Yet at the same time, harboring an inability to attach to an important person in your life is just as excruciating. The end of the movie ties up the package with a beautiful red bow: Connor's younger brother marries the love of his life, and Connor finally opens up, letting himself fall in love with Jenny all over again.

That's why I always believe that despite all the challenges and heartache, one day, I'll meet the perfect guy, too.

So Not Ready

"11th grade..that's like Form 5 for me..and in Hong Kong, after Form 5, most would go out and work," my father reflected out loud. I met these words with silent shock.

My father was raised in the urban mess of Hong Kong in the years when Britain had considerable influence in virtually every aspect of Cantonese life. As a result, the educational system was quite British as well, and Form 5 was the grade that nearly all men reached before settling in for economically-driven adult lives. To hear that 11th grade was the American version of Form 5 seemed surreal to me: I am most certainly not ready to move out, get a job, and start a family.

Junior year has been hectic, busy, relentless. Filled to the brim and about to burst, the myopic activities my life currently revolves around fundamentally leaves me unprepared for the much larger picture. How to live out there in the big world where there isn't a friendly Harker teacher to help me along the way.

Looks like I have a long year ahead of me.

Today, I had the pleasure of sitting in the back loading zone for about half an hour, waiting for my ride who was stuck in traffic. While I watched parents arrive and students pile into the passenger seats or take over the driver's side, I amused myself by looking at how the drivers would proceed in leaving the pick-up zone. (Pathetic, I know) Most would back up before making the turn to exit, but the curious thing was, most cars could fit simply by turning without backing up. But I knew what held them back, to take that extra precaution, because though it was such a mediocre act in the mess of everything else, I'd found the perfect reflection of the same apprehension in everything we do.

For centuries, the future has been regarded as something ominous hanging above our heads, waiting for the exact moment to explode. The uncertainty of each forthcoming minute creates a tension, a blossoming fear of what was going to happen to us at the end of those 60 seconds...

Oracles, fortune-tellers, palm-readers -- all would attempt to tell of your future, comfort you by making the unknown known, but the truth is: they know nothing. We approach life with a certain lack of perception, a blindness that renders us unable to see through the haze. And that explains why so many people make conservative decisions that would ultimately ensure survival. Conservative actions such as tentatively backing up before making an already-safe turn.

Despite the pessimism that underlies this so far, there's a bright side, just as there always is. What would life be without taking chances? The most beautiful things can come from good fortune. What would love be without challenges or mistakes? It would become nothing for without error, love would be a burnt-out fuse.

There are probably some who will take this and go out living with a grain of salt. But that's not what I plan to do or what I intended. Opportunities await, and I want to do a bit of my own exploring. Experiment with luck, with happiness, with love. Cause remember, in the end, there's always second chances.

Head vs. Heart

One of my close guy friends asked me today, "Why are girls so fickle?" I've been mulling over those words as the day flew by and I realized that his question, though denigrating, was a very good one.

Why is it that so many times in so many different situations, our heads tell us one thing while our hearts tell us another? Reason versus Emotion. In addition to being a phrase taught in AP US History in regards to the Enlightenment and the Great Awakening, these two simple words underly every decision that we make, whether it be deciding which savoring candy to buy at 711 or which person you'll love for the rest of your life.

Over the years, I've found myself in this exact sticky situation: should I listen my practical voice or what my heart is telling me? Taking a look at the words of wisdom from eclectic sources:

Disney tells their viewers at a young age to follow their hearts because for some reason, every single time the main character does so, he or she always ends up with quite a happy ending. By the time those little children grow up to be about my age, believe me, that happy ending seems fairly unattainable.

Novels, from the most contemporary to the most classic, seem to romanticize and create this vivid variation of Cinderella's fairytale ending. They follow the same trend as Disney, spelling out clearly to their readers that the heart and satisfaction is oftentimes much more important.

I, on the other hand, by following my heart, have fallen into many a trap. Don't get me wrong: following your heart gives you that Disney-guaranteed self-satisfaction. But love, in the strangest of ways, muddles the most practical of people and brings out the deist side in all of us.

On one hand, I don't see what's wrong with letting our emotions take us over once in a while. But on the other hand, it always ends in nothing but tears and heartbreak. Even though we hate to admit it, we all make mistakes when it comes to listening to our heads or our hearts.

I guess I'll never really understand.