Why Do You Blog?

So, I've been reading a lot of different blogs lately, and with the overcast day and emotions running high, I've decided to post my journal from today.

Why do you blog?

Is it to say something in the privacy and anonymity of a bubble? Or to give a detailed and itemized description of what you ate? To keep your family apprised on your adventures and goings on? Or is it a venue to give the world your view of the political shortcoming of a country? Maybe you blog when you don’t know what to say in the real world. Maybe when confronted with real life, you become overwhelmed and unable to properly embrace your feeling and ideas. It becomes easier to be an observer who never has to define or defend a single thought, value or ideal. It’s easy to take a back seat to life. To watch the world around you go by, never offering an insight or make a personal connection. The problem then becomes a question. Who are you? Or “How can you navigate life through words kept to yourself?” “What kind of personal connections can you make when you are the one sitting alone waiting for others to come to you?”

Sometimes writing is good for the soul. You can describe things and feel things on a different level. The stork chattering to its mate or the e.e. cummings like view on a balcony can only be described in words. It makes sense. But sometimes you need to use those words. Hiding won’t work. You think you don’t have to worry about what people consider important or how your ideas and feelings will affect them. But the sad thing is that in hiding you are underestimating the company you keep. You could be the one to inspire or transform, but instead you are play acting; showing the world one face and writing the world another.

It becomes difficult to tell the difference. What happens when you can’t speak the convictions of your soul? What do you become? A dreamer? Maybe you become someone who can’t take a man at his word. Maybe when a man says he’s bad, he is. Sometimes people are not hiding behind words, sometimes they are speaking the truth and it takes practice to hear it.

So the answer is to speak. Be courageous. Only by talking can we be heard. Writing about it later can’t change things now. Don’t use others’ words as your own. Don’t use others’ experiences as yours. Be in the moment. Don’t let your song be under your breath. You want a mate, a friend, a relationship? Then “be”.

Is this being too sentimental? We feel. Sometimes not all at once. Sometimes in our quietest moments we feel the most. Sometimes we are taught by experiences that feeling outwardly will get us hurt, so we show only a little at a time. But if we only feel inwardly, we won’t get what we want outwardly. And though we want someone to “get” us, to really understand our innermost feelings, we must start by saying. We must be vulnerable not only in our quietest moments, but in the loudest ones too. Only when we allow ourselves to shine through, can we have the kind of relationships we are inwardly hoping for.

This is what I hope my blog is. This and a description of the food I ate, my thoughts about being in a country very different than my own, my adventures and searches to find the perfect pair of shoes, because that’s who I am.

Love for Donkeys

So, when I left my village a few weeks ago and came here I wondered if I'd miss the country life. At first it was quiet and peaceful. I found myself sleeping later, wondering around my apartment in the quiet wondering what was missing. Then it hit me. Where are the animals?

Now, I come from the city via the suburbs of Minneapolis. The only animals one might hear are some squirrels scratching at the window screen, a random dog in the yard which is silenced by an owner's harsh word, and on occasion a domestic argument. But here, I lived at the very end of town. I had chickens, turkeys, 2 dogs, and a goat. The neighbors had goats, horses, cows, chickens, pigeons, and various dogs and cats. There was ALWAYS noise. If not from barnyard animals, then from the plethora of children in the neighborhood yelling and playing all day and all night.

I woke every morning to my rooster. It even came with a snooze alarm. I had a 4:30 wake up call, followed by a 5:30, 6:00 and 6:30 snooze button. On the way to the bathroom I'd pass my rooster and his lovely lady friend, a plump turkey who idolized him, following him around all day long. They would follow me to the "bathroom" and stand guard as I did my business and said,"Good Morning" to the neighbor's goat who liked to eat next to my outhouse.

On the way to school I pass the cow calves chained to the corner and my donkey who oversaw my whole neighborhood. To give directions I would say "Walk down this road until you come to my donkey and turn right." My sisters are probably laughing because they are the animal lovers, rescuing cats, dogs, horses; anything that might need love. They are used to the smell of animal feces on the road and the ability to side step poop while walking. I on the other hand have had my head down for 2 months making sure I didn't ruin my shoes.

So here, in my new place, I began to miss the noise. Until..... one day not too long after I moved in.........I heard it. The complaining braying of a donkey. Looking out my window I discovered not one, but 2! And each stood guard on the corners of my street. Now I can say again, "Go to the end of the street, turn right at the donkey." They are the guardians of my neighborhood.

I am home.