As I continue on my trip, which has been both a constant thrill and a gargantuan challenge, I have planned to improve one of my hobbies/interest/skill very dear to my person: photography. And though nowadays it seems that anyone with an apt camera device can be a photographer, I certainly believe it takes more than just pointing, shooting, and filter. For countless years I have more than enjoyed capturing images and through those years I have certainly developed a style, composition, and a color palette preference. Therefore, right this minute, I believe it is the time I proclaim myself a photographer (how strange to actually express the title). Before my trip, I began this series, with the purpose of showing the world the faces that come and go around me. To further expand my street photography interest, I present to you, the many Faces of Mexico.
I write this as an outsider, as an observant visitor whose everyday appetite devours your plethora. I’d like to share my honesty about your children, your inhabitants who I have seen demonstrate raw humanity. I understand they misbehave – all flawed humans do – but for the most part, their core means well. They adore you; your residents speak so highly of you it begins to haze into a grandiose pride that will never quell. But fear not, an inexhaustible pride would be my exact sentiments. And even though their love may not always be obviously demonstrated, there are moments such as the 19th of September, in which your parenting skills shone. Continue reading “El Día de los Muertos”
As I sit down in my usual seat at the round dinner table, I look at the different dishes of food that my father has prepared. Looking at his cooking, my father speaks with pride in Mandarin Chinese, “I spent two hours boiling the soup to let the flavor seep in. It’s not as good as the one people make in Taiwan, but it’s the best here.” The contagious smile on my dad’s face spreads to my mother. She nods in agreement, “I brought this soup to my co-worker’s house yesterday and she said her dreams came true.” My dad adds, “ I added some red peppers and green onions for aesthetics.” I look blankly at the soup as my parents banter back and forth about the flavor and presentation of the soup. I am clearly indifferent about the subject of soup and mumble to myself, “It’s only soup. Who cares?” Continue reading “Cultural Perspectives Through Soup”
Lately, I’ve been feeling a deep discontentment. And frankly, I ask myself constantly what is the source of my increasingly restless nature. Why am I waking up with my heart beating a thousand miles a minute or feeling random bouts of nausea (no, I’m not pregnant)? According to our beloved apocalyptic WebMD, these symptoms are attributed to anxiety. I am feeling anxious. I have to let that sink in… because for the longest time I would pride myself in handling stress well. Five exams in one day? Pfft, I got this, there are bigger fish to fry. Gym, classes, meeting with a professor, work, and a pile of coursework?
What about now?