How I’m Feeling About Quitting My Job

Today marks four months since I left my job. Until four months ago, I knew where to go every day. I rode my bike to work. I walked to the wine and cheese shop for sandwiches on lunch breaks with my coworkers. I had an email address, and on the other side of the @ symbol was the name of an organization made of thousands of people who were doing things like building million gallon water systems for refugees and delivering medicine across the flooded plains of South Sudan. The weight of the organization’s name rolled into the room with…

first saturday morning

My first Saturday morning in Minneapolis. One full week at the American Refugee Committee under my belt. This included reengaging American work culture (Microsoft Outlook is frightening and in general I feel like Lucy with her chocolates conveyor belt), getting to know a lot of new friends, enjoying Somali food for the first time, starting to learn my fourth language (Hdg ban ah’hai! I am a star!), and learning that my new workplace is one that matches my soul. My imagination is running wild with plans for my new apartment (moving in a week from Monday!), plans to make even…

everybody! i love you! oh my goodness!- a job announcement

I spent some time on youtube last night watching old oscar speeches trying to come up with a way to describe feeling ecstatic. You see, a couple of weeks ago when I found out I got a job, scratch that, when I found out I go THE job, I was ecstatic. I ran around the house whooping and jumping up and down, and if Halle Berry would have been there I would have pulled an Adrian Brody and kissed her right on the lips. Since I found out, I still have rushes of excitement. I’ll reach out and grab the…

dream come true

I am currently on a jaunt through Syunik Marz, the southern most region of Armenia, an hour or so from Iran, 9 hours from my home in the North. I am helping a fellow volunteer and best friend with a project in her town. This morning we met a second round of smiling school directors, all eager to pass out our summer camp applications to their students on this last day of school. Walking into schools, hearing this strange, wonderful language fall from my lips, smiling and shaking hands with bright-eyed Armenians, the morning made me remember everything I’ve loved…

a ghoul in winter

I’m home in my little Armenian town for a quick minute and feel the need to send out a tiny message to the blogosphere:  There’s a little monster I like to call the I-Thought-I-Knew-What-Was-Happening Ghoul, and it got me again. I’m not sure if this is a working-in-a-foreign language phenomenon or it’s just me, but I often find myself agreeing to go places for what I think is a short event only to be gone FOR SEVEN HOURS or so. I thought I was going to “install a khachkar” and have a quick word about the project I’m going to…