gobez.

navigating through my emotions has been difficult, at best. since arriving home, i've gotten to spend time with so many people i care about; in fact, i've haven't yet spent more than a few precious hours completely alone. i know that i have been changed in a significant way from my experience, but the conflicting emotions of guilt, hope, and confusion keep me from being able to fully articulate what that means.

i'm not yet at the point where i even like talking about it but with a select few. i realize the more i tell people about my day-to-day activities, the more disconnected i feel from my time in addis. it becomes a spiel, as though ticking off items on a grocery list. the words become simply words; i lose the feeling of the actual experience. i forget what trudging to school in the mud looked like; i forget what the singing voices of my students sounded like; i forget the way it felt to look into the eyes of an hiv-infected baby and know that she will never get the love and attention she deserves. and these aren't things i want to forget.

one of my happiest memories is of walking my students down to a lunch program that the non-profit i worked for provided the kids with. there i was, surrounded by 80 children, ranging in age from 3 to 8, walking down the mountain. two kids per hand, singing amharic schoolyard songs at the top of our lungs, walking through an african village, eliciting stares from every bystander. not merely because of the mass exodus that was disrupting daily life, but because of the presence of my white skin. this particular experience was a lightbulb moment for me; an 'ah-ha' of sorts: gabriela, this is really special. cherish it.

the time in i spent in ethiopia certainly was precious. i wholeheartedly hope my presence made a difference, but i know for certain that the most impact was made on me. i'm just learning more and more how private these kinds of journeys are; the only way that they can be made known to others, i think, is by the changes within, and how they are made manifest in the way you choose to live your life. the things you decide are important. the things you decide aren't important. perceptions. a heightened sense of awareness. less tolerance for some things. a need for others. et cetera.

so, while i go through these motions of creating a new life, i'm trying to best find that balance, between the extreme, unsustainable transformation and the real, lasting changes that can be incorporated into my life. it's tough. i haven't figured it out yet. but, i guess the whole thing is that i'm working on it. on my own.

i'll get there.

physical activity memoir, written for class

Running is my freedom. It’s my break from everything—I put aside the chaos of the day, the work I still have to do, the people I need to call back. And I run. Just putting on my running clothes brings a feeling of empowerment. I feel strong; I can do anything.

My route doesn’t vary much. It’s been the same route I’ve been running since my freshman year. This comforts me; the person I was and the one that I’ve evolved into has pounded this same pavement. The scenery stays constant, while I am changing. It sets a backdrop to the thoughts that go through my head as I run. I never think about the fact that I’m running. I just do it.

I settle into a moderate jog, until I hit a hill. For the sake of my calves, I sprint to the top, then slow back down. I pay attention to the beautiful homes I run past, letting my mind speculate on the family that lives behind the front door. I notice the gardens, the trees, the smattering of people enjoying the scenery as they take their early-evening walks. I keep running.

While my path might stay constant, my music does not. Sometimes, running is my mission and my music reflects that; it’s aggressive guitar solos and a fast drumbeat. Other times, I just want to coast, so I crank some upbeat R&B. Or, perhaps I’m feeling carefree—country music it is. My music selection sets the tune for my run…without it, I don’t stand a chance.

Sometime in late November, my running brought on injury. A stress fracture impinged on my ability to run—at least not for 6 weeks, my orthopedic surgeon informed me. I lost not only the feeling of freedom that running brings, but my freedom to run at all. I was confined to biking and using gym equipment; basically, the antecedent of running through Chapel Hill. This was surprisingly difficult to deal with. Losing my ability to just walk out the door and run my route was losing something that had become an innate part of who I was and what I loved. Working out became something I had to do, without any of the soul-enhancing benefits I gained from my regular jogs.

Finally, at the end of January, I started running again, this time with a new appreciation for the 30 to 40 minutes a day that I spend outside in Chapel Hill. It’s cold outside, but the wind is refreshing. As I near graduation, I realize what a blessing it is to live in a place this beautiful and to have the ability to appreciate it. Running is that chance for me to enjoy this place. I’m back to having my brief periods each day, for me, to get away and spend some time immersed in my thoughts. Time to be another runner in Chapel Hill. A time to exercise my body.

30 minutes for myself. Then, it’s back to the chaos.

here we go again

welcome back!

how was your break?

happy new year!!


ahh, yes. the familiar sounds of the back to school blitz. pencil and paper. well, more like people and parties, especially as i enter what is to be the final semester of my college career. it's all old hat now, we've got this down. at this point, class is one of the further things from our mind, outweighed by future plans and current fun. the best four years of our life are winding down and we want to go out with a bang.

and, of course, we reflect.

have we spent our time wisely? i think high school burnt me out, being involved in far too much; so, college was an opportune time for a well-earned break. i was determined not to spread myself too thin and to cherish relationships above all else. now, though, i wonder if i've been as effective as i could have been. am i leaving carolina a better place than it was? it certainly has left me a changed woman, and i can only hope that i've made some sort of positive impact, be it with a professor, fellow student or within the context of an organization.

how important are the relationships i've focused my energy on, though? i love all of my friends so much, and i don't think that the time spent cultivating those relationships has been in vain. but is the context of a one-on-one relationship the best way to improve life- both mine and theirs? or should i have wiped some of that time out to dive into other things?

it's also interesting to see the dynamics of friendships change over the years. my friendships have always been my priority, and i have been the priority of these friends. but, as commonly occurs, the threat of an unknown and relatively unchartered future have left many scrambling to find partners of familiar backgrounds, leaving me as one of the very few singletons in my group. suddenly and without warning, i'm dropped several notches on the totem pole, for the significant other and their respective interests, friends and events. perhaps these friendships are more fleeting that i once believed; has my focus has been skewed for the past three and a half years?

i hope it's not too late. not too late to pour into what should have been a bigger priority all along. to, what i'm starting to see, will help in a way that will matter even after i leave.

leaving it changed.

here we go again. happy new year.