4 corners.

In case you haven't heard, it snowed last night.

After spending a little over two hours shoveling today, I headed outside to take some photos.  Most of the better ones are from my Nikon, but ye olde iPhone did the trick for these four corners of my snowy backyard.

1.  our trellis (and last year's Christmas tree!)
2.  the fire pit and teak bench
3.  Mum's gardening corner, and
4.  The Red Wheelbarrow.





All photos taken via Instagr.am for iPhone

the potential story of my life.

Note: There was a video posted here about the joys of applying for jobs as an "aid worker"... but it seems that Global Poverty Project has taken it down.  Le sigh.


At least it's good to have a sense of humor about these things.
Thanks to friend and fellow former SA volunteer, Emma, for sharing this one. It gave me a good chuckle on the heels of my first really disappointing employment rejection.




Video via Texas in Africa

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yikes, starbucks

 

Image via the hairpin

they're worth a thousand words anyway.

Since I've had some trouble thus far putting my year in South Africa into words, I've decided to share some photos instead.  I held off on uploading a ton while I was away, not really on purpose, but because our internet was limited and there were more important things to do.  So, if you'd like to see some of my year as a volunteer in KwaZulu Natal, head on over to dispatches from kzn.  I'll try to be good about putting up one a day.  But that is not a resolution.

nou bouke.

While flicking through the TV channels tonight after dinner (and let's be honest, we don't have cable Chez Cloughley so there isn't much choice in the first place), we stumbled upon a documentary about Haiti.  There's been a lot of coverage on public television about the earthquake and the state of Haiti and its people a year later, but this particular program was really incredible.  It's called Nou Bouke, and was made by a team from The Miami Herald.  "Nou bouke" is a Creole term meaning, "We're tired."  What an apt title.

Though I enjoyed the entire piece, I really loved a feature on a man named Jerry Rosembert, a graffiti artist who uses street art to spread a message from Haiti, and for Haiti.  Watching the documentary led to some internet searching, and I found these to share.

From Voices of Haiti: A Daily Photoessay by Jeremy Cowart.  See more of his beautiful photography here

From Repeating Islands: News and commentary on Caribbean culture, literature, and the arts

From the Haiti Photo Library, which you can find here

The recovery effort in Haiti is complicated, because the quality of life for the majority of Haitians prior to January 12, 2010 was abysmal.  And now, cholera has sunk its ugly teeth into an already decimated population; to rebuild a nation on a foundation that is already full of holes seems an insurmountable task.
But as it is with Jerry, so it can be with others.  Paired with a little help and a lot of hope, Haiti's people will retain what makes them whole.

Just something to keep in mind when you're booking your next cruise to the Caribbean.

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4 corners.

The four corners of my bedroom.

It's strange to be in a transitional phase-- looking for jobs, applying to graduate school, making moves to take the next step.  Among countless conversations with friends in a similar phase of life, I can't really complain, or feel "left behind".  I feel excited.  I could find something in Philadelphia or in New York.  I could be working full-time, I could be going to school for my Masters.  I could even be back in Dublin, for goodness' sake.
Then there are the questions like, "Should I paint my bedroom?"  I can't decide what's worth my time or not.  I have no idea how long I'll be here or where I'll be next.

It's all rather exciting (that is, until the excitement wears off and I can't stand to look at my résumé for one more second).

As a sidenote, there's nothing like Downton Abbey, Olive Kitteridge, and a little amoxicillin to make a bout of strep throat bearable.





All photos taken via Instagr.am for iPhone

South Africa, I miss you.


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