Coffee and Countries: My Next Adventure

passport photo

This past April, all it took was a simple email to set in motion achieving one of my life goals: traveling the world. When I sat down at a computer in the University of Akron television station that has practically become my home, I simply expected to be trashing about a dozen emails, like I usually did. I briefly scrolled through each email, only to reassure myself that the information and advertisements within them were entirely irrelevant. I clicked on an email from the National Society of High School Scholars, “Scholarship notification” as the subject. They’re probably just telling me I didn’t get a scholarship that I simply applied for, just for the hell of it, I thought to myself.

Oh boy, I have never been more wrong in my entire life.

I skimmed through the email. My heart began to pound and my eyes began to sting, tears threatening to make known the contents of my entire brain.

“Congratulations!” it began.

Over the next week, I read the email over and over and over again, to make sure I read it correctly the previous hundred times, and that it was not some fluke. The National Society of High School Scholars, partnered with the Semester at Sea study abroad program wanted to give me a full scholarship to be apart of their world wide study abroad program for the fall of 2016.

Through the Semester at Sea program, I will be embarking on the adventure of a lifetime. While taking classes on a beautiful luxury ship, I will be stopping in twelve different countries, and 13 cities, to experience all that the huge world around me has to offer- really, a dream come true.

You know you’re excited when you already begin to think of the captions for photos you have yet to post to Instagram. The countries I will be romping around are Germany, Greece, Italy, Morocco, Senegal, Spain, Brazil, Peru, Ecuador, Panama, Costa Rica, and Trinidad and Tobago.

While studying abroad, I also plan to make a documentary, its focus undecided thus far (and did I mention that there is a poolside bar on the ship? International drinking laws, bitch).

Right now, the planning period is an adventure in and of itself, let me tell you. Well, a paper adventure anyway. I do not think I have ever experienced this much paperwork, between my passport application, visa application, and all the information that both  my home university and host university require… it is a lot.

In addition to taking classes, I intend to embark on several adventures in the different cities and countries, like a tour of the crypts and catacombs in Florence, Italy, and of course, acquiring a small amount of coffee beans from each country I visit. I’m super stoked to get authentic Peruvian coffee beans!

I have a lot of people trying to talk me out of going. But they have no idea what this opportunity means to me. This is literally a dream come true; some nights I would lay awake at night, wondering if I would ever get the opportunity to experience the world and have the adventure of a life time. But now, here it is, and I’m more ready than ever to drive to Cleveland Hopkins airport and fly to Germany.

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We are the Innovators, the Future, and the Change this World Needs to See

The clock ticked slowly as the eyelids drooped on the other college-aged students surrounding me. The instructor, a gentlemen with a gravelly voice and liver spots on every exposed patch of skin, paused and asked, “Now let me ask you all a question.” Many of the ears in the room perked up, curious as to what this man could ask, when for the past 30 minutes, he was rambling about the importance of rubber plantations in the Belgian Congo Free State.

“The forced overtaking of an indigenous people by a stronger, industrial people to use the land, resources, and labor of those people… now does this sound like a good idea to you?”

We stared at him blankly. Of course it did not sound like a good idea. Who would think that?

“Nobody thinks this is a good idea?” Again, he was met with silence.

“Now, a hundred, fifty, even twenty years ago, people would have mostly agreed that this was a good thing,” he shook his head. “I guess its a new generation.”

To most students, this may have seemed like just another lecture where the instructor is just trying to get us think of something, anything, related to their class. But to me, and likely several of my classmates, this moment symbolized the attitude that sets the millennial generation apart from those before us. While the millennial generation is subjected to a constant barrage of criticism from the generations preceding us, this shows that we are merely trying to survive in an unacceptable world that previous generations created.

The reason mentioned above is only one of many reasons the millennial generation is an anomaly.  The millennial generation was born in the midst of a technical revolution. Therefore, we are the most technologically adept. We have never been exposed to a world segregated by intense social boundaries, or subject to the control of media from only one or a select few local or regional sources. Information about anything and any kind of people is available to the millennial generation, and always has been. We have been born with the opportunity to learn and lead a life in a way that no generation before us ever could.

Millennials are also extremely ambitious. According to a 2010 Pew Research Center survey, more millennials are pursuing higher education than Generation X, showing that they are more ambitious, as well as becoming more educated.

Millennials, as a whole, seem to hold an idiosyncratic set of values, as evident by the imperialism anecdote mentioned earlier. Our parents, and our parents’ parents, were brought up to accept, and even support in some cases, various forms of inequality among the United States’ diverse population. Has any generation before ours rallied so passionately for equal pay between men and women, marriage equality, and an end to systemic discrimination of peoples of color. Widely, Generation Y does not support values like racism, imperialism, sexism, and others that are deemed “normal” or even celebrated by the generations before us.

However, despite the fact masses of millennials are working together to make a positive change in the world, most of the media coverage referring to millennials only paints us as “entitled” and “lazy”. Why are we criticized for merely acting as a product of the world that was shaped and molded around us?

While it is undeniable that some of the millennials certainly do act entitled, lazy, and glued to their smartphones, I firmly believe this is a gross stereotype that exists solely for the purpose of having a scapegoat.

How is it fair to complain that I am an entitled young adult, when, growing up, I got a ribbon for being able to blow my nose? Millennials grew up in the age of participation ribbons, No Child Left Behind, and political correctness. No wonder we think we are entitled, we grew up with the mindset that no matter how hard we try, we will receive compensation in one form or another. Due to this idea being reinforced time and time again throughout development, it is easy to understand why the millennial generation can be characterized this way. However, does that mean this is our fault? No. We did not condition ourselves to fall to this mindset.

The characteristic that seems to represent the millennial generation most “accurately” in the eyes of Generation X and Baby Boomers appears to be laziness. Millennials are lazy, do not like to do things, do not like to go outside, do not like to apply themselves, according to the media. However, if one simply takes a look around, millennials are quite the opposite. As mentioned earlier, more millennials are attending college than any generations before this one. And addressing the phenomenon of millennial laziness, is it not the generation before us that was continually creating infinite methods for making life easier through technology, and we have grown up with this technological goal for as long as we can remember. It was ingrained into our youth, our classrooms, and grew as we did. How can we not be conceived as “lazier” than previous generations, when previous generations have developed smartphones, and even the electric can opener. No shit we’re “lazy”. People have continuously strived for ways to let people spend less time working, and more time to spend enjoying leisure activities.

Above all, millennials are literally just trying to survive and change the topsy-turvy world that the Baby Boomers and Generation X created. We are the products of corporate greed, imperialistic notions, and justifications of inequality. Criticisms of the media prefer to deny that millennials truly are the future, the innovators, and largely the change that the world needs to see.

Twenty Things I Have Learned in 20 Years

Twenty years is nowhere near a long time on this great, green earth (and apparently since I’m a millennial, that 20 years counts for less… but that post is coming up in a few weeks). but that does not mean I have not learned some tough but valuable lessons during my lifetime. To commemorate my birthday coming up in a few days, I decided to share 20 of the lessons I have learned in my 20 years of life.

  1. You should be your top priority. 

Investing in the people around me and taking it to heart when shit hit the fan was a tough way to live. It was partially how I allowed myself to be in an abusive relationship for over a year, and several other toxic relationships. I was trying to put so many toxic relationships before my own happiness, and it left me feeling alone, unwanted, and exploited. I learned that my well being should be the first thing on my mind, and my loved ones’ after that. It is the only way to ensure that I have my shit together and am on the right track. Toxic people will lead you down a toxic road.

      2. Education is one of the greatest gifts you could receive.

Having the option and ability to learn is beautiful – and I do not mean just in terms of higher education. There is an opportunity to learn something new from every person you meet and every experience you have, no matter how trivial it may seem. Open your eyes and learn as much about the world as you possibly can while you are still here.

       3. Take EVERY opportunity that comes your way.

When I began my first year of college, I had literally no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I considered media production, broadcasting, music, education, and countless other disciplines. After a semester and a half, I decided to give communications a try, without the slightest idea of what I wanted to do. I took a Survey of Mass Communication class. Then the general manager of the television station I am now apart of came into our class one day to give a presentation about said television station. With absolutely no experience in media production, or even how to turn on a camera, I decided to join ZTV and major in media production. Today, I could not be more excited about my major, and a year later, I feel comfortable enough in my skills to display them. I get so excited thinking about the day that I will be making anthropological content, wherever I go. Because I went out and took this opportunity.

      4. It is okay to not have a plan.

Again, I went into college without a plan. It was terrifying at first, but I learned that when I finally relaxed, everything worked out. Trust that life will take you where you are supposed to be. I decided on my major on a whim, and fell in love with it. In fact, every major decision in my life has been made that way, and I would not change my life for anything, even the bad times.

     5. Spontaneity can be the best way sometimes.

And sometimes, its okay to take not having a plan to the extreme. Crowd surf. Kiss a girl you have never met in front of Anti-LGBT protesters. Go on a road trip. Skip class. Living for the moment adds flavor to life, breaks away from that routine, and always helps remind you of your youth and the endless possibility of life. You also learn so much about other humans.

     6. Finding balance in your life is key to being happy.

I consider myself to be what is referred to sometimes as an “introverted extrovert”. I am an extroverted person most of the time. I love to socialize and be around people. But every now and then, I need to spend an entire week to myself, hardly talking to anyone, shut out the outside world, and work. Not out of sadness, loneliness, or depression, but because I need that balance. Sometimes I need to stay up for nights on end working. And then sometimes I need to relax. I need the city and the country. Balance makes for contentment and serenity.

     7. Fake it until you make it.

Most of the time, people compliment me on my obvious sense of confidence. Little do they know, I was not always this way. In fact, I don’t feel confident every single moment of every single day? So what do I do? Throw on a pair of high heels  and red lipstick, and fake it. While I may not feel confident, acting like I feel confident does the trick sometimes- to the people around me and to myself.

     8. The prettiest quality you can have is your confidence.

Piggybacking off the last lesson, the prettiest quality you can possess is your confidence. Long eyelashes and soft hair are nice and all, but what does it matter if you don’t believe in yourself? Confidence is also the most important quality. Without it, you can’t get anywhere.

     9. Sometimes you have to walk away.

For over ten years, my best friend (we’ll call her K) was always by my side, or so I thought.  More often than not, she degraded me, under the guise of being totally honest. She got me into trouble and helped me pick up some nasty habits, like smoking and subjecting myself to promiscuous and dangerous behavior. It took me a long time to realize that K was a bad influence, and that she really had no interest in my well-being. She simply only cared about what I could do to make her look good. Eleven years is a long time, but sometimes you have to burn bridges, no matter how hard it is. I still think of her and our friendship from time to time, but I firmly believe that my future is better without her.

     10. Leave your comfort zone.

One of the first things my boyfriend’s mother ever said to me was, “So I hear you’re an adrenaline junkie,” which is beyond true. I enjoy the tallest roller coasters and wildest rides. Although, there was a point in time where I would not even say hi to another person unless they approached me first. Until one day I had enough of my boring, unexciting life. I decided to out on a whim and actually have fun.

     11. Take time to enjoy nature.

During the academic year, I live in urban Akron. Having grown up in the middle of nowhere as long as I can remember, college in the big city (Ohio’s fifth largest!) was a huge change of pace, and a refreshing one at that. But I have to admit, whenever I go home for breaks, I try to spend as much time outside as I can. I miss the apple trees and wild flowers that grow at home. Nature is beautiful, and whenever I am among it, I feel a certain sense of security and serenity that I just cannot achieve in the concrete jungle.

     12. Manage your time if you do not want to pull your hair out.

Last semester was the worst semester of my life. Seventeen credit hours, a new student organization, a new job, and loads of relationship drama made my life absolute hell, especially since I didn’t know how juggle them all. I would spend hours in ZTV and not spend anytime on my homework until the weekend. Then came trying to film all weekend while stressing about a mountain of homework, and then fighting with my boyfriend because that was what we did then. Horrible. I took a vow after last semester ended to never object myself to that kind of time  management method. This semester, I became a member of three more student organizations, am taking 16 credit hours, and working three times as many hours. I made a promise to myself that school would come first, then prioritize the other aspects of my life. While I have just as much on my plate this semester, I can handle it now because I learned how to manage my time: the key to not crying every other day in college.

      13. Love unconditionally

Despite the fact that Jeremy and I hit a major rough patch, I still forgave him. My view of him is not darkened by our bad times. Why? Because I learned that in order to have a truly rewarding relationship that lasts and works, I must love unconditionally. Yes, Jeremy has flaws, and some days he gets on my nerves, but I would never trade him for anyone or anything else, because even those make him my favorite person in the whole wide world, and those are still reasons I love him. True love is unconditional.

      14. You do not need a boy to  be happy.

This was one of many lessons I learned the hard way. Yes, Jeremy makes me incredibly happy- happier than I ever thought I could be. But do I need him in order to make my own happiness? Hell no. The only one that can make me happy is me, not anyone or anything else. And sure as hell, not some dumb boy*. Thinking you need a boy to make you happy is inevitably going to lead to unrealistic expectations and even less happiness when you realize that a boy is probably never going to make you genuinely happy. The advice I stress most when it comes to relationships is  this: You must be able to be happy by yourself before you can be happy with another person. Only then will the happiness last.

*Jeremy, when you read this, I can assure you that I am not referring to you as “some dumb boy”.

      15. You can learn a worthwhile lesson from every person you meet.

Some people are just absolute and complete shit. Plain and simple. And it may seem like they do not have a single redeemable quality in the tiniest strand of DNA. And that could very well be the case. However, that does not mean your experience and time spent with them is completely wasted. Because of this person and their shitty ways, you probably learned an important lesson about something; whether its what you deserve in a relationship, how you should be treated, or even warning signs to look for in other people, you learned something worthwhile, and that cannot be taken away from you.

     16. Life gets better.

At sixteen, I wanted to give up. I wanted to die. I shut myself off from everyone and everything. I laid in bed in the dark listened to the Red Hot Chili Peppers for hours. I’m not even exaggerating. But I forced myself to stick around…  and things got better. I never thought I would get passed that point, but now I’m a young women in Akron, earning a degree, independent, and doing a lot work that is going to pay off soon. Things get better. I’m so glad I persevered.

      17. Always be friendly, always be polite.

One thing I learned during this dark period of my life is that other people may be feeling the same way. As a result, I strived to be kind to every person I came into contact with because you never know who might be planning to end it that day, looking for just one small glimmer of hope. A warm smile and a kind “how are you” could be all that person needs to hold on just a little longer.

      18. Being who you want to be is the best feeling.

I have lost track of how many times people have called me weird. I have been hearing it my entire life. For a short period of time, in high school, I tried to fit in and act like everyone else. Trying to conform was the most miserable experience of my life. So I quit. I learned that I am most comfortable being my strange, weird, eccentric self.

      19. IF you’re going to be a rebel, rebel against something worthwhile.

Or as one my favorite bands said, “if you’re going to be a rebel, be sure to know your wrong from your right.” Basically, if you’re going to go against your societal norms, have a reason for it. A good reason. Rebel against something in a way that will make the world a better place. Being a rebel just to be a rebel is just conforming to another co-culture. Rebel in a way that will help other people- against the atrocities of governments, against domestic abuse, just something that has more substance than “my feelings are more hardcore than yours.”

      20. Growing up is the fun part.

Don’t get me wrong, growing up and having to take care of yourself can be terrifying as hell, and seem like a downward spiral. But here’s a little secret: the downward spiral only occurs if you try to deny growing up. What could be more fun than having your own place, your own independence, and striving to make your own place in the world?  Twenty years taught me that. Yes, I’m still young, but I’m not too young. And I’m not too old either. I have my youth, but with that youth I have gained a lot of wisdom that cannot just be taken for granted or ignored.

An Update

I am well aware of how little I post, and how bad I am at posting consistently. As a result, I wish to give whoever may read my blog a little update.

For one, I am an extremely busy person. I’m involved in three student organizations at my university, and am doing my best to maintain a 4.0 average for the semester – which is hard, because French is hard. Because of this, my writing has to be put on the back burner for a little bit. However, in my down time, I do write and I do try to plan some sort of schedule for posting (my goal is every two weeks).

In the past month since I have posted, I have had two of my poems published! The first, The State of the Union, was published in a journal dedicated to student literature at the University of Akron, called the Ashbelt Journal. I also submitted Death of a Student to UAkron’s student newspaper, The Buchtelite, because Akron’s administration has been under fire for a while now, and there was a real possibility of our teachers going on strike. While I wrote the poem last summer, the message in it still resonated with many students and faculty, as several of my peers assured me when they read the piece.

With the semester beginning to wind down soon, and the summer approaching, my goal is to have a new essay/literature piece every two weeks, and post poems intermittently- because I can’t control myself when my brain wants to pick up a pen, and writing is the only way to keep my running mouth from getting me in trouble (usually).  Anyway, as always, I look forward to hearing feedback and starting discussions based on whatever could possibly occur!



I Will Never be a Victim

Sixteen. A whore, a slut, a drug addict, a liar, a cheater. Labels that clung to me so tightly, squeezing the sweat and tears out of my pores as I curled up on the shower floor amidst yet another panic attack.

But I’m sixteen and he loves me.

Trying to fight back tears that threatened to choke me as I tell yet another friend that I can no longer associate with them.

But I’m sixteen and he loves me.

Using all my strength and courage to not throw up as he shoved his dick down my throat, nearly choking me, while my ears rang and tears stung my eyes because he hit me so. Damn. Hard.

But I’m sixteen and he loves me.

Laying on the cold, hard tile as the lukewarm water washed over me, I wished for it to raise up and drown me so I would no longer feel the agony, the shame, the pain, the loneliness that was caused by my “relationship”. Because I was sixteen and believed that he loved me; I believed that someone so hostile and so violent was capable of loving me. Me, who I believed was so treacherous and wicked, and so convinced I was undeserving of love and kindness from another human being.

How was this possible? How could I have let myself be treated so horribly, so brutally, and believe it was acceptable? Low self-esteem, naivety, pressure to have sex from my friends and peers, loneliness… does anyone really have any idea how much damage these factors can facilitate? Its hard to see the outcome of such a toxic-environment cocktail. But for a year, I drank. I drank until I couldn’t see straight, and the hangover nearly did me in.

But I refuse to be a victim. This boy is gone, along with my past. The thoughts, the photos, the feelings, the pain- gone, purged from every cell of my body. Because I am not a victim.

When I was 16 to 17 years old, I found myself succumbing to an abusive relationship. Because it was the first relationship I ever had, I had no foundation of how a relationship worked, what to expect, or how I deserved to be treated. For almost a year, I thought his abusive behavior was normal. I thought it was totally okay to feel pressured into having sex, and that he was truthful whenever he told me I was a bitch, a slut, a whore, or whatever demeaning description suited his foul disposition that day.

I first met him through a former friend. She pushed me to give him a chance because it was the day after my 16th birthday, and I had never had a kiss, never had a date, I had never even held a boy’s hand! And I was getting oh so old and growing up oh so quickly, I had such little time left to experience the world and “dating”!

And so I began dating him. And I had my first kiss! Finally! Wow, it was so… not magical. Not like I expected at all. Awkward and totally overrated.

Anyway, the relationship started off relatively normal. We stayed up all night texting and most of our time together making out.

Then came the night of his birthday, about a month into our relationship. He flooded my phone with drunken texts telling me he was going to cheat on me. So I did what any rational person would do and ended the relationship then and there. I went to bed without another thought of it. Whatever, I didn’t care that much about a stupid boy anyway. But when I woke up and answered my phone the next morning, something happened. It was as though some sort of bug crawled into my head while I was sleeping and laid eggs that told me I was not deserving of a decent relationship, of respect and dignity. I cried, and like that, we were back together.

Similar incidents happened several times over the course of the next twelve to thirteen months. He would get mad at me and break it off. A couple days later, my phone would ring and we would get back together, making me feel as though it was my fault, or that he was depressed, or he was so stressed out for reasons x, y, or z.

Over time, he also became obsessed with my appearance. Time and time again, he attempted to make me into a “trophy girlfriend”. But I was 16. I had pimples. I missed spots when I shaved my legs. My hair was (and still is) messy. He would not have any of it. If I wanted to be his girlfriend, then I had to be the epitome of perfection. Whenever I would come over, he would hold me down and try to pop my pimples, or force me to go into the bathroom and shave my legs again. Oh, and how can I even forget how he refused to even hold my hand while I was on my period?

More often than not, I looked in the mirror and hated everything I saw. My skin was not clear enough, my hair was not long enough, my tits were too small. Where I once saw a confident smile was now eyes darting around my reflection, trying to find one small, redeeming quality.

One day he was telling me I was not good enough, the next day he was telling me how to do my hair, then he was drunk texting and calling me, and two days later, he was accusing me of cheating (although he really was). As the sand started running out of the hour glass, he became increasingly hostile.

The next summer came, the solstice passed, and daylight was waning once more. It was one of these days when we decided to escape the company of my family and have some… alone time.

“Get on your knees, bitch.” He growled at me.

I did so obediently. He grabbed my jaw in his strong hand, forcing my mouth open. He shoved himself down my throat.

“Lick, don’t suck.” He ordered.

True to my rebellious nature, I decided to disobey. In the same moment, his hand swung and smacked the left side of my face, harder than anything I have ever felt before. I could only see blackness for a few seconds. When I came back, I held back the tears that swam in my eyes. I ignored the stinging sensation that overwhelmed the left side of my face, and tried to not puke.


About two weeks passed. I finally gathered the courage to break up with him. I finally came to my senses and admitted to myself that he did not love me, that he never loved me. I gathered the nerve to finally stand up for myself and realize that I deserve respect.


But I learned a lot from this experience. It was  a part of my life that has made me undeniably stronger, and the reason I can take on just about anything that life throws at me. Because I have been in the deepest ditch, I have sunk to the lowest of the low.

I learned that not only am I deserving of a faithful, respectful boyfriend, but I deserve the best of the best. Not because of what I went through, but because what I went through taught me how to properly treat a significant other: with love, trust, respect, and understanding.

I also learned to be confident. I grew to love my imperfections, like my perpetually messy hair, and  accept the fact that these “flaws” are what make me unique and beautiful. Nowadays, I’m typically the most confident woman to strut into a room.

I learned that one must love them self and be able to take care of them self before they can have a healthy, meaningful, not destructive romantic relationship with another person. I do not make excuses for him, but I do recognize that much of the toxicity of the relationship was  a result of both of us trying to use a relationship to “fix” us.

Most importantly, I learned that I am not, nor will I ever be, a “victim”. I will never be a statistic. Because of this period in my life, I have gained the strength to rise above the challenges placed on me and be the best I can be. I will never wear these moments around my  neck like chains.

I’m approaching my 20th birthday now. I have an amazing, respectful, and loving boyfriend, and have for the past two years. I am halfway toward getting a degree, and have the best job I could ask for as an undergraduate student. Life is wonderful. It took me some time to get overcome the challenges this relationship brought me; months to calm the panic attacks, and every now and then, the memories still push themselves to the forefront of my mind. Someone grabbing me is still a trigger. While the memories can still loom over my head like rain clouds some days,  I still manage to push through and look to tomorrow, trusting that it will wake up in a better place. I am grateful for the strong woman I have become. I will never be a victim.


10 Percent


You know, two years is 10 percent of the time I’ve spent on this earth, and this cornfield is a boring, lonely place. Nothing reminds me of how much I need a change of pace, but sometimes we can’t march to our own beats. Its like my feet are broken, the connection between my toes and my brain has been cut so now I step left on 1 and 3, like everyone expects of me.

Because that’s what I did for two years. Two whole years. And that’s what I expect of me too. I hate it. I loath, despise, deprecate the sobbing sack of pity and desolation I have become.When did I stop looking at the bigger picture? When did the cracks in the mirror become me? I hardly recognize myself anymore. The girl I was six months ago would spit in my direction.

“Don’t you know, girl? There is so much more to life, to the human experience. Why the hell are you wasting it crying and doing what others tell you?”

What happened to that rebel spirit?

“Honey, that’s not you. And it sure as hell will never be me.”

But the question still begs:

Why should I be concerned with me, when there are such bigger things? What am I doing here, when I could be there?

Coffee in a Small Town


I never thought I would say this, but after coming home, I missed things I never noticed before leaving for Akron. I adore the city, but some things, things I hold very dearly, simply do not exist elsewhere. The canons from birds that greet me when I drink my morning cup of coffee or the sparkling stars aflame in the sky, among a bright luscious moon that tries to hide behind towering oak trees every night.

Hell, event he coffee itself tastes different, tasting more robust and an dark-bodied, as though to say, “Yes, ma’am, I am a hard working American; I’ve worked for everything I’ve ever earned and don’t stop ’til the job is done, even if I lose a finger (a minor inconvenience at best, for this breed)”, as opposed to the much more rich and flavorful, practically gourmet, status-revealing coffee ever so present in the city. The people here have forged bonds and community so prevalent, it’s almost tangible. Bonds created by more than proximity, bonds created by family, understanding of one another, and a sense of duty toward fellow men. As much as I love the challenge of becoming more than just a face in the crowd, it never hurts to visit a place where everybody knows your name.