One night in the middle of studying for a pharmacy exam, he’d gone out for a cup of coffee. He walked a few blocks to stretch his legs, and then a few more. He kept walking down Broadway, one hundred blocks from his dorm in Washington Heights to Lincoln Center, and then continuing all the way to Chinatown where, at daybreak, feeling close to delirious, he finally stopped. Fish and vegetables were being unloaded from trucks, life creeping back onto the streets. He entered a bakery, had hot tea and coconut bread, watched a group of Chinese women sitting at a round table at the back, sorting through a mountain of spinach. He took the train back uptown, slept through his exam. He begin to cut one class, then another. A week went by, and in spite of his total passivity, he felt that he was accomplishing the greatest feat of his life.

from “A Choice of Accommodations” from Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri.

Anthropologist Wade Davis on indigenous cultures. I would love to do what he does.

If human beings are the agents of cultural destruction, we can also be and must be the facilitators of cultural survival.

I actually watched a Globe Trekker on PBS that visited Peru and went on that pilgrimage. People actually die on this trek, however it is an honor, and cut a piece of the glacial ice to use as holy water. The cocoa leaves are chewed in essence as a drug to stay awake.

This is an excerpt from “Once in a Lifetime” by Jhumpa Lahiri from her book of short stories Unaccustomed Earth. O had originally bought this book for his friend’s birthday, and I told his friend that I really wanted to read this book that he let me borrow it immediately. I’ve read three stories, and I already can tell you that it’s a highly recommended beautiful read. The reason I like this passage is because I love how Lahiri describes things.

In the morning you all slept in, victims of jet lag, reminding us that despite your presence, your bags crowding the hallways, your toothbrushes cluttering the side of the sink, you belonged elsewhere. When I returned from school in the afternoon you were still sleeping, and at dinner–breakfast for you–you all declined the curry we were eating, craving toast and tea. It was like that for the first few days: you were awake when we slept, sleeping when we were awake; we were leading antipodal lives under the same roof.

(Kristan, I read “Once in a Lifetime” from the old issue of The New Yorker and it is one of the stories in the second part of Unaccustomed Earth. I just finished reading the short story “Hell-Heaven” yesterday, and it is in the first part of the book.)

That’s right, there is a new Sharpie in town, and the best product attribute, it doesn’t bleed. I think they will be similar to those Stylist or Le Pen felt-tip pens I used to horde. As a writing utensil fanatic, you know I will be purchasing some of these. I’m almost as excited as I was about the new Moleskines I bought.

Apparently David Beckham is the celebrity tied to the brand, which they claim will bring global awareness, although I’m wondering if he’s worth the price tag because his endorsement does not come cheap.

The truth is, you are the nicest person I know. Everything that you have done has been done with some thought of me in mind, and I hope that I have treated you with the same respect.

I miss you already. I miss your presence. I miss the food. I miss running up the stairs. I miss being comfortable. I miss feeling like an intellectual who can still be a goof. I miss being the most beautiful, the right kind of special. Most of all, I miss your sincerity. I miss how I can look at you and know just how wonderful I am.

And I think it’s okay that people know that I miss these things. We are human and we understand the bonds of friendship.

So when you get to where you’re going, give them hell, give them hell, make them eat….fudgesicles. They won’t need me to figure just how wonderful you are.

Love always,
Angie