On Americanah

I recently finished Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. The book was a Christmas gift from my brother and man, was it good. I had been meaning to read it for awhile. I can't see it being for everyone, but it completely fed my interest in present-day racial relations in America, along with religion and culture in present-day Nigeria, the immigrant experience and even a bit of the class and race in the U.K. Oh and it was also a novel. It seems rare for a book to be so thought-provoking in exploring the American racial dynamic while also being a novel.

I had heard a couple of interviews with Adichie after Americanah came out in 2013 (like most books, I was pretty late to the party. It was on my to-read waitlist for awhile). She's an extraordinarily talented writer and I wondered how much of the main character's experiences as a Nigerian young woman living in the United States reflected Adichie's own similar experiences.

I loved too, Adichie's exploration of the American view of the continent of Africa as one singular country with little urbanization or access to mainstream American media or knowledge of the world. I was quick to believe something similar for awhile, but through understanding the process and effects of globalization and worldwide consumption of the American media industry, and the irony of the American media industry classifying nearly all non-American or European music as "global" or "tribal," I think the United States might be the isolated nation, not an entire continent.

Book cover image obtained at http://chimamanda.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/americanah.png  

Springtime in North and South

I spent a few days in Florida last week. The time spent with both my Mom and the sun were glorious and relaxing. I think the funniest part of the experience though, was the flight commentary upon return to Manchester, New Hampshire. The flight was direct from Orlando and once the gray skies and snow came into view upon landing, the conversation went like this:

Young woman behind me: "This sucks."
My Mom, next to me: "It's like we're back in the Arctic!"
We laugh.
Flight attendant on speaker: "Welcome to Manchester, where it is 27 degrees."
140 passengers on plane: Collective groan.

*Ten minutes later in baggage claim, luggage appears and is coated with snow.*
(Presumably Floridian) Toddler: "Mommy, what's the white stuff?"

That same day, I was happy to find the New Hampshire temperatures were in the high forties. I set out on a walk, joined by furry early spring wildlife.

Central Florida wildlife

Central New Hampshire wildlife

Even though the Granite State looked like this,

and I missed this...

I remembered distantly that sometimes New Hampshire looks like this,

or this,

or this,

and that March is just a scary month of transition. I think. 

Peace & Balance

Seven months ago I moved to the lakes of New Hampshire. They've been extraordinary months of change and adaptation and learning. They've also been filled with moments of discovering a balance between personal and professional, family and friends, and social distance and closeness.

Sometimes I've felt a bit like I did during the eight months I spent in Scotland two years ago. I ventured to both locations alone, living on my own and slowly engraining myself into the community. And in both, after finding acceptance and happiness, I found peace, a joy and comfort in each day.

There are still many moments, when I'm unsure of the next step or hesitant of the barriers lining the path forward. Yet there is so much comfort and encouragement between this peace and healthy balance, far less fear and more confidence in venturing forward, even when not certain.

Sunrise above the clouds, yesterday morning

Thoughts & Images on February

Over the still world, a bird calls walking solitary among black boughs. -Louise Gluck, End of Winter

Some months can be so easily forgotten. February brought with it enough change that I can't see how that might occur. The quick loss of my grandmother and an unexpected professional success that continues to bring change and ideas and so much to consider and march forth with. Both are new, embracing a change and knowing that little will be how it was before. Yet there was, and continues to be, so much good, when love and peace surround loss and new opportunities arise.

Bitter cold was paired with these changes, the type that arrives every year, but seldom for such a long period of time. Recently, Mount Washington, a mountain an hour north of my home recorded the second lowest temperature anywhere on earth for the day. But there was so much sunshine throughout, empty skies at night full of bright lights beyond earth and mornings accompanied by a warm glow. The sunshine was familiar, a reminder that love and warmth is never far, in endings and beginnings.

A horse living nearby appeared to escape one day.

Horse vs. bus (Horse was safely escorted back home soon after).

My ball game has had to wait.

The risk of scurvey has too.