Mbita.

Last summer I was lucky enough to travel to Kenya. While I was there I helped out at a school for orphans and taught bible and art classes. I also was involved in ministries for widows of the town that I was in, which is called Mbita.

The experience was life changing (cliche as that statement is). I was swept off my feet by the unique culture as I spent time with the beautiful women and children of Kenya. One of the most exciting things was the way that I was able to be companionable with people from a culture so contrasting to my own.

Handily for me, English is one of the national languages of Kenya. Therefore all of the children speak English (because their school classes are conducted in English), and many of the women speak English as well. However, it was interesting to see how one word can have different connotations, meanings, or uses in different cultures. My favorite example of this phenomenon is the use of the phrase "How are you?". We Americans ask "How are you?" and expect at least a polite answer of "fine", but Kenyans tend to use "How are you?" as a greeting that does not require a response. In Mbita, "How are you?" is interchangable with "Hi!" or "Hello". When we happened to drive past a group of children we would be met with a cheerful chorus of "How are you! How are you!!!".

The key to relating to the idiosyncrasies of the language of another culture is to listen, identify the differences, and then act accordingly. Kenyans say: "Hello-how-are-you!" so I say "Hello-how-are-you!" right back to them. Kenyans love to shake your hand for an awkwardly long amount of time, so I shake back for an equally awkwardly long amount of time.

Blair.

One of my dearest friends is known for being the best at asking questions. She always asks the most engaging questions and instigates interesting conversation. Her inquiries are never attacking but merely a probing of people and a discovering of what makes them come alive. I say this with no exaggeration: she is the easiest person to talk to in my acquaintance.

She has taught me several things about conversation. Even though it may seem awkward to keep on asking questions at first, if you persist you will eventually hit on something to draw a person out of their shell. Why? She has observed that all people like talking about themselves. You just have to ask the right question - and sometimes it takes a couple of tries to find that right question that will get them going. The trick to finding it is listening.

Questioning is an art.

Listening is an art.

The more time I have spent with her the more I have developed in my own abilities as a questioner and a listener. Conversing with others is a skill which must be carefully developed and honed in order to master the art. The cliche rings true: practice makes perfect. 

Soy Chai.

As I sit on the porch of Bongo Java reading about a sense of place, I suddenly realize the truth to this idea in regards to my experience at the coffee shop.

Let me preface myself: I am addicted to Bongo. When I haven't been here for a couple of days, I miss the people, the tastes, the smells, etc. I have spent an ungodly amount of time and money here, but I don't grudge a single second or a single penny.

That being said, as I look around I realize that I have literally sat at every single table in this coffee shop multiple times. As I look at each table memories come flooding back of the different

experiences I've had at each table. I can clearly see the faces of friends as we conversed, laughed, did homework, and I drank copious amounts of soy chai, which I always get in a mug (I don't drink coffee, therefore it is more than somewhat ironic that I so love a coffee shop). I can remember countless afternoons spent on the porch enjoying beautiful weather and good company, and a plethora of evenings spent inside immersed in homework. Due to the extravagant amounts of time I have spent here, I feel completely at home in this place. With my investment in Bongo, I have made it my own: I have a sense of place and ownership here. I am an insider. I am a regular.

Burnt Sienna.

As a painter, I have acquired a heightened sensitivity to color. Every time I paint I strive to capture precise colors while mixing my paints. As I have progressed into forming my own individual technique and style, I have developed a growing addiction to certain colors. 

Specifically, my favorite paint color to mix into my palette is burnt sienna. I have nursed a serious addiction to burnt sienna. I love the effect of mixing it into every color. Whether it is a rich black or a sky blue, there are few colors in my paintings that do not include at least a touch of burnt sienna. I think that this obsession has formed due to my attraction to earth tones. Whenever I mix a color I subconsciously desire an earthy, vintage effect from my mixing. Burnt sienna typically produces this look. I have discovered my attraction to this certain effect and consequently employ my use of burnt sienna over and over again.

I suppose this devotion to a color merely once again proves me to be a creature of habit. I enjoy routine and when I find something I like I tend to be staunchly loyal. I'm often that girl that keeps on ordering the same dish over and over again at a restaurant instead of branching out and trying the other delicious options.

ba-BUM.

The rhythm of the human heartbeat has a singularly soothing effect. It is the first sound that babies encounter while in the womb, and from that point on the familiar iambs of ba-BUM, ba-BUM, ba-BUM produces a uniquely peaceful sensation. Because of the fundamental familiarity of this rhythm, there no other sound that is more satisfying than an iamb. It is for this reason that we are so attracted to and satisfied by iambic poetry. It just comes naturally for us to talk and hear in ba-BUM's.

Poetry often captures this satisfying rhythm. Whether or not you understand the meaning of the poem, the sound of a Shakespearian sonnet is arguably one of the most aesthetically pleasing sounds in the world. The pristine iambic pentameter, the three quatrains following a perfect ABAB CDCD EFEF rhyme scheme, and the couplet with the GG rhyme scheme create a satisfying and harmonious effect. Consider and read aloud Shakespeare's Sonnet 73:

That time of year thou mayst in me behold

When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang

Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,

Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

In me thou see'st the twilight of such day

As after sunset fadeth in the west,

Which by and by black night doth take away,

Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire

That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,

As the death-bed whereon it must expire

Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by.

This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,

To love that well which thou must leave ere long.

Even if you do not understand what the poet is trying to say, one cannot help but feel contented by the rhythm and rhyme of the sonnet.

On the subject of aesthetically pleasing sound in poetry, I recently read T.S. Eliot's "Preludes" and was particularly struck by his use of onomatopoeia to create images. For example, in the first verse he utilizes "s"-plus-a-consonant sounds to produce the noise of the swirling wind on a blustery night:

The winter evening settles down

With smell of steaks in passageways.

Six o'clock.

The burnt-out ends of smoky days.

And now a gusty shower wraps

The grimy scraps

Of withered leaves about your feet

And newspapers from vacant lots;

The showers beat

On broken blinds and chimney-pots,

And at the corner of the street

A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.

And then the lighting of the lamps.

Poetry employs sound to delight its audience. Whether it is through the rhythm of a heartbeat or onomatopoeia of the wind, these poems achieve a uniquely satisfying effect to the human ear.

Mary-Kate and Ashley.

The idea that everyone reads differently because of their unique life experiences reminds me of what it is like to be a twin.

Yes, I have an identical twin sister named Sarah Beth. When people learn this fact about me one of the first questions they ask is: "What's it like to be a twin?", closely followed by: "Can you read each others' minds?"

The answer to the former question: I don't know the difference. I only know what it is like to be a twin. For the entirety of my twenty years I have had someone in my life that looks just like me and shares my birthday. To be a twin brings a unique set of blessings and challenges. The gift of being a twin is that you can always have your best friend with you. Whether it was in ballet class or taking the SAT, Sarah Beth has always been the ally at my side. And what are the challenges of having a twin? Well, due to us doing everything together, people constantly compare us. We had to work hard not to build an unhealthy competitive relationship as we both strove to excel in the same fields.

The answer to the latter question: Yes and no. I don't believe there is a supernatural connection that allows us to read each others' minds, but because we have had very similar life experiences our minds tend to work the same way... Therefore we can usually guess what the other is thinking. It's only logical.

An important step in the life of a twin is individuation. It is particularly hard for us to find our own unique voice because we are acutely aware that there is someone in the world with whom we share our very DNA. As a twin I intensely identify with writers who are constantly seeking to find their individual voice. Whether it is dyeing our hair different colors or going to different colleges, twins find ways to separate ourselves from each other and learn to be our true selves.

Moderation.

"Moderation in everything, even moderation."

My mother taught me this little quote when I was a child and I refer back to it in all aspects of life. When it comes to food, I attempt to eat in moderate healthy portions, but simultaneously I allow myself to indulge my cravings - in moderation, of course. I don't allow myself to feel guilty for these indulgences because if I overdo it, my body feels the effects. Through experience I choose to avoid binging on sweets and meats, and because I know how those foods will affect me it is no sacrifice to forego a few small pleasures.

The ill effects of the luxurious choices of the Romans only emphasizes the wisdom of moderation. It is only logical that Christianity began to place a taboo on overindulgence. Granted, they took it too far when they began to associate pleasure with damnation. This extreme attitude is merely the age-old legalistic stumbling block of the church... But they had a point: the outrageous feasting of the Romans boded little health. The Christians attempted to become the antithesis of the Romans, but they might have done better to strive for a balance.

We do not have cravings and pleasures for no reason. Humans are created to enjoy the fruits of the earth and therefore it is perfectly fine for us to occasionally binge on Sunchips or indulge in a box of chocolates. The trick is to find moderation in everything, even moderation.