Summerteeth

Summerteeth DID YOU KNOW? Michael Stipe played an ice cream man on one episode of The Adventures of Pete and Pete. Happy Groundhog Day! Wow, thanks for all your responses to the lynn/lonn/line poll. My high school math teachers name was Lynn, so I guess Ive just been indoctrinated to call it lynn. I didnt even really consider putting el en ex as a choice, although I guess Ive called it that sometimes too, for absolute clarity. It was just really weird getting here and hearing it called lonn though, although I guess that actually makes a lot more sense than lynn. I seem to remember we called all operators that waysin, cos (cohs, not cahs), tan. Then you get to the hyperbolics and its sinch, cosh and tanch (?). I had always hoped wed need to take the inverse hyperbolic cosecant of something so Id have a reason to say arccsch, which should sound approximately like an elderly cat expelling a large hairball from its throat, but I never got that opportunity. I had a friend named Lynn and I called her Lynnie, and sometimes I joked that Lynnie is number one! Because ln e = 1 and all. This is why I called her Lynnie: Lynn: Oh, hi, yeah? Im Lynn. Whats your name? Sam: Oh, nice to meet you. My names Sam. Lynn: SPAM? SPAM? Did you say your name is SPAM? Sam: No, I said that Lynn: Ha ha ha ha ha! Thats super funny, yeah! Im going to call you Spam all the time now! Ha ha ha, SPAMMY! Ha ha ha! Oh, man Spammy, Im really hungry, not gonna lie. Make me dinner, Spammy. And that is my superhero origin story. Anyway, I had a really, really frightening nightmare last night. Read on if you dare. So as Melis and Bryan have demonstrated, there are a lot of awesome UROP experiences to be had at MIT. I mean, come onhe grows ears out of the backs of lab mice! How cool is that? However, not every single UROP in the history of MIT involves freaky genetic engineering or turkey carcasses or stuff like that. I had one in the summer of 2004 I had a UROP with a professor in the chemistry department that involved just synthesizing a known, but not thoroughly explored chemical compound and then getting to perform any reactions with that compound that I wanted. I had like 5 paragraphs written about some of the more colorful events of this UROP, but it turned into a little too much complaining, so I will just describe it thusly: I was totally incompetent at chemistry, the graduate students were seemingly always busy, the professor spent 15 minutes at a group meeting lecturing (while slightly inebriated) about how react was not an intransitive verb, I spilled benzene on myself a lot and often worked on apparatuses with a high risk of implosion, and was told by my supposed graduate student mentor, through bloodshot eyes, after he showed up five hours late for work one day (this man works with uranium), that Alcohol is bad for you. To summarize: one day in June 2004 I was knocked off my bike by a car and broke two bones in my wrist, and I would not even put that among the five least enjoyable days I had that summer. But its a good thing, you know? Because I got to look into the lives of some chemistry graduate students and I got to get a feel for what kinds of work chemists are expected to do, and as a result I realized that there is no way in Hell that I would ever want to be a chemist. Im sure that there are some people out there who really like being chemists, and it may have even been a very nice UROP experience if I had possessed a little more organic synthesis knowledge going in, but ultimately this UROP taught me that me and chemistry are like ice cream and an onion. One week after tendering my resignation, I had already found another UROP in my beloved turkey alchemy lab, and a semester later I stopped by the Office of Academic Services to pick up a change of major form for my phoenix-like rebirth as a chemical engineer. But all that was not even the nightmare. So I was walking around my old lab upstairs for some reason, just doing some chemistry and hoping that nobody saw me, because the grad students in that lab were really scary. This is actually based on an actual happening, when I went into lab at 3 AM just to dry some compound because it was the only time I could be sure that the professor wouldnt be there to see me. Not that hes a bad professor or anything, but after I quit I think he decided that were not really on speaking terms anymore. You think hed be happy that I wasnt around to break his expensive glassware anymore, but apparently not. I digress. Oh no! I looked over and saw that the meanest, scariest grad student in the lab was across the hall, and he might see me, and, I dont know, be mean to me. I guess theres not really much he could have done to me, but at this point it was like those dreams where youre being chased by some large jungle cat and cant get away fast enough. I realized that it was, in fact, a Thursday afternoon and time for group meeting! Since everybody in the lab was late for group meeting every week, the professor would undoubtedly come up to lab to collect his grad students and catch me doing stuff! And having to see this professor was really, like, the worst thing I could ever possibly imagine. He might try to titrate me or something. So I ranI ran so fast that I somehow got into the library of the Green Building, which would require flying, but whatever. But I was so lost that I actually ended up right outside the professors office. Uh oh. I was too petrified to even think about looking around the corn er and then he jumped around it, wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt, with an evil gleam in his eye. Yeah, so I woke up screaming. I woke up screaming because I saw a chemistry professor in my dream. No, really. No. Really. It took me a minute to get my bearings, but I eventually stumbled over to the fridge and got some apple juice, reminded myself that I would never see that dumb old lab again, and laid back down to sleep with visions of turkey carcasses dancing in my head. Happy Groundhog Day!

Summerteeth

Summerteeth DID YOU KNOW? Michael Stipe played an ice cream man on one episode of The Adventures of Pete and Pete. Happy Groundhog Day! Wow, thanks for all your responses to the lynn/lonn/line poll. My high school math teachers name was Lynn, so I guess Ive just been indoctrinated to call it lynn. I didnt even really consider putting el en ex as a choice, although I guess Ive called it that sometimes too, for absolute clarity. It was just really weird getting here and hearing it called lonn though, although I guess that actually makes a lot more sense than lynn. I seem to remember we called all operators that waysin, cos (cohs, not cahs), tan. Then you get to the hyperbolics and its sinch, cosh and tanch (?). I had always hoped wed need to take the inverse hyperbolic cosecant of something so Id have a reason to say arccsch, which should sound approximately like an elderly cat expelling a large hairball from its throat, but I never got that opportunity. I had a friend named Lynn and I called her Lynnie, and sometimes I joked that Lynnie is number one! Because ln e = 1 and all. This is why I called her Lynnie: Lynn: Oh, hi, yeah? Im Lynn. Whats your name? Sam: Oh, nice to meet you. My names Sam. Lynn: SPAM? SPAM? Did you say your name is SPAM? Sam: No, I said that Lynn: Ha ha ha ha ha! Thats super funny, yeah! Im going to call you Spam all the time now! Ha ha ha, SPAMMY! Ha ha ha! Oh, man Spammy, Im really hungry, not gonna lie. Make me dinner, Spammy. And that is my superhero origin story. Anyway, I had a really, really frightening nightmare last night. Read on if you dare. So as Melis and Bryan have demonstrated, there are a lot of awesome UROP experiences to be had at MIT. I mean, come onhe grows ears out of the backs of lab mice! How cool is that? However, not every single UROP in the history of MIT involves freaky genetic engineering or turkey carcasses or stuff like that. I had one in the summer of 2004 I had a UROP with a professor in the chemistry department that involved just synthesizing a known, but not thoroughly explored chemical compound and then getting to perform any reactions with that compound that I wanted. I had like 5 paragraphs written about some of the more colorful events of this UROP, but it turned into a little too much complaining, so I will just describe it thusly: I was totally incompetent at chemistry, the graduate students were seemingly always busy, the professor spent 15 minutes at a group meeting lecturing (while slightly inebriated) about how react was not an intransitive verb, I spilled benzene on myself a lot and often worked on apparatuses with a high risk of implosion, and was told by my supposed graduate student mentor, through bloodshot eyes, after he showed up five hours late for work one day (this man works with uranium), that Alcohol is bad for you. To summarize: one day in June 2004 I was knocked off my bike by a car and broke two bones in my wrist, and I would not even put that among the five least enjoyable days I had that summer. But its a good thing, you know? Because I got to look into the lives of some chemistry graduate students and I got to get a feel for what kinds of work chemists are expected to do, and as a result I realized that there is no way in Hell that I would ever want to be a chemist. Im sure that there are some people out there who really like being chemists, and it may have even been a very nice UROP experience if I had possessed a little more organic synthesis knowledge going in, but ultimately this UROP taught me that me and chemistry are like ice cream and an onion. One week after tendering my resignation, I had already found another UROP in my beloved turkey alchemy lab, and a semester later I stopped by the Office of Academic Services to pick up a change of major form for my phoenix-like rebirth as a chemical engineer. But all that was not even the nightmare. So I was walking around my old lab upstairs for some reason, just doing some chemistry and hoping that nobody saw me, because the grad students in that lab were really scary. This is actually based on an actual happening, when I went into lab at 3 AM just to dry some compound because it was the only time I could be sure that the professor wouldnt be there to see me. Not that hes a bad professor or anything, but after I quit I think he decided that were not really on speaking terms anymore. You think hed be happy that I wasnt around to break his expensive glassware anymore, but apparently not. I digress. Oh no! I looked over and saw that the meanest, scariest grad student in the lab was across the hall, and he might see me, and, I dont know, be mean to me. I guess theres not really much he could have done to me, but at this point it was like those dreams where youre being chased by some large jungle cat and cant get away fast enough. I realized that it was, in fact, a Thursday afternoon and time for group meeting! Since everybody in the lab was late for group meeting every week, the professor would undoubtedly come up to lab to collect his grad students and catch me doing stuff! And having to see this professor was really, like, the worst thing I could ever possibly imagine. He might try to titrate me or something. So I ranI ran so fast that I somehow got into the library of the Green Building, which would require flying, but whatever. But I was so lost that I actually ended up right outside the professors office. Uh oh. I was too petrified to even think about looking around the corn er and then he jumped around it, wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt, with an evil gleam in his eye. Yeah, so I woke up screaming. I woke up screaming because I saw a chemistry professor in my dream. No, really. No. Really. It took me a minute to get my bearings, but I eventually stumbled over to the fridge and got some apple juice, reminded myself that I would never see that dumb old lab again, and laid back down to sleep with visions of turkey carcasses dancing in my head. Happy Groundhog Day!

Global Business Cultural Analysis Free Essay Example, 5000 words

Two-thirds of France is constituted of mountains and hills such as, to name a few of the most popular, Alps, Pyrenees and Vosges ranges. The highest point in Europe is the famous Mont Blanc in the Alps. The Mediterranean coastline incorporates the remarkable tourist spot, the French Riviera (ibid). 1.1.2. Population Even though the French government has endorsed large families for over two centuries now, the country still falls short in producing adequate number of babies to forfeit its rapidly aging population. Government programs such as cash remunerations, tax temporary exemptions and sponsored child care have boosted France’s fertility rate which became the second highest in Europe. However, the nation’s aging population still poses serious threats to government budget throughout the region since the populace of workers supporting each pensioner cried off. According to some estimations, the â€Å"working age population of Europe will drop to 57 percent in 2050, from 67 percent today† (Bohlen, 2006, para 1). 1.1.3 Economy France has one of the biggest economies throughout the globe. Government intervention is present and it aims to advance investment and domestic improvement in a secure fiscal and monetary setting. We will write a custom essay sample on Global Business Cultural Analysis or any topic specifically for you Only $17.96 $11.86/pageorder now The foremost priority of the French government is to create jobs so as to decrease the ever expanding high unemployment rate. France officially joined the European Union and consequently adopted the euro as its currency in 1999. From then on, monetary regulations have been laid down by the European Central Bank located in Frankfurt (Xinhua News Agency, 2008, para 3). 1.1.4. Religion France is a melting pot of religious diversity because of its secular nature. It tolerates freedom of thought and religion. The religion of a majority of French people is Roman Catholicism; however, this religion is not recognized by the state anymore as a state religion as it was prior to the 1789 Revolution and throughout a variety of, non-republican administration of the 19th century (Kastaryano, 2004). 1.1.4.1. Islam Islam is one of the emergent types of corporate ethnicity in France, which is characterized and acknowledged with respect to the time-honored principle overriding the interaction of Church and State. Islam, in France, develops as a minority religion which recently confronts a problem in its effort to integrate religious diversity into the secular orientation of the liberal French nation (ibid, para 2). 1.1.4.2. Jewish With French Jews airing grievances about an increased in anti-Semitic violence, there emerges to be a pointed elevation in the number of people and groups considering migrating to Israel.

Danish Universal Health Care System Is More Efficient Than the American Employer-Based One Free Essay Example, 2250 words

Americans are well aware of the issues and problems with their current health system. Basic health care and health insurance have become unaffordable in most working families. Pre-existing medical conditions and illnesses have seen many individuals being turned away from the country s insurance companies. Other individuals lose their health insurance upon losing jobs or when they get laid off from work. The most critical issues are affordability, portability, and accessibility. The cost of health care in the US is rising at a rate higher than inflation and wages. Study results showed that health care premiums are increasing at a rate of 87%, whereas wages increase at a low rate of 3.5%. Many of the citizens afford insurance only when their employers subsidize it. Another issue with the current US health care system is portability. The majority of its health insurance coverage has been tied to employment making it extremely disruptive and inefficient. It has been estimated that about 24 percent of the uninsured are as a result of changes in employment or losing jobs. Under the current private US health care system, the companies are profit-driven. We will write a custom essay sample on Danish Universal Health Care System Is More Efficient Than the American Employer-Based One or any topic specifically for you Only $17.96 $11.86/page

Gilette Dry Ide (a) - 681 Words

The Gillette Company: Dry Idea Advertising (A) | | Gillette Dry Idea (A) Q1. Analyse Deo market and Dry Idea’s Place in it. What drive the category from the consumer behaviour point of view? * They were 2 types of products available under this segment * Deodorants- provided anti-odour protection: 25% of sales * Antideodorants- provided protection against both perspiration wetness and effective deodorancy * By 1983, the USA market for underarm products was 506 million units, generating over $1 billion in sales * There were available in 4 major application forms: * Aerosols * Roll-ons * Sticks * Solids * 1950- Women were principal users and cream were dominant form *†¦show more content†¦Understand the Brand management (client-gillette) and Account management (agency-BBDO) organization based on the case data, read and follow the interactions (scenes 31-32, 62-44 in video transcripts) and analyze/ compare the client and agency perspectives on the Gillette marketing and advertising issues faced during the period. Issues faced during the period * Roll-on subset is declining whereas the solids and sticks seem to be growing * Advertising spending has been very low in comparison to the competitors * Lack identifiable brand personality which confuses the customers * Lack creative innovation * Improper balance between the efficacy and aesthetics Perspective of agency on Gillette marketing and advertising issues Brescia felt the need to address the issue of lack of brand identification. So, they gave two recommendations for the same: First recommendation: * To conduct a strategic test free of executional variables. * Need to get a deeper understanding of strategic issue * Should go against solids * Testing to go further with creative exploratory Second Recommendation: * To run an interim creative â€Å" start to finish† * Successfully communicates the balanced efficacy and aesthetics story * Strategic consistency

Cold Winter Essay Example For Students

Cold Winter Essay It was in the middle of winter on a dark smoggy night, chills were runningthrough the house in and out of my room like a quiet ghost silently coming andsilently going. As I lie awake in my bed thinking of what the next day shouldbring, my eyes start to grow heavy as I doze off. In the distance I hear afaint booming sound, soon it starts getting louder and louder and still louderuntil I could hear nothing but the noise. I was unpleasantly startled andhurried over to my window. As I look out I could see nothing but smoke and fire,catching this by surprised I ran to my little brothers room, finding no one. Then in the distance I could hear faint voices of terror calling my name. Itsounded as if it was coming from out side, so I ran as fast as my Nike slipperscould carry me down the stairs and outside into my front yard. I find the restof my family there, along with my neighbors and their son, my best friend. Ijust stood there in horror with the rest of my family and friends. We had noidea what had happened. The next morning I really dont remember very clearly,but what I do remember was reading the news paper and coming across an articleabout a house burning down not to far from mine. I really didnt know whatexactly to think at that time until it all clicked upstairs. The noise the nightbefore had been the house burning down and the natural gas line exploding. Laterin the article it said that our block of houses wouldnt have any natural gasheating until the line was repaired. The first thing I did was run to thekitchen, finding my Mother and Father there fixing breakfast. I started talk ingso fast I really dont even know what came out. My Mom told me to calm down andsit at the table. Doing so she gave me a glass of milk, and seeing that I wasdistressed sat down next to me and asked me what was on my mind. Taking fulladvantage of her attention I told her as slowly and detailed as possible at thetime being. As soon as I had finished my frantic attempt to get all that out,she didnt laugh at me but just got that look in her eyes where you know thatshe didnt believe a word of it. The fist thing she said in response wasWhere did you hear about this? I answered her as fast as possibleIn the news paper. Stunned at my at my quick answer she told me tobring her the article. So I ran back up the stairs and snatched the paper frommy bed. When I got down stairs I laid the article out flat in front of my momsface. A subtle but shocked look arose on my mothers face, as she sank deeperinto her chair. Shutting off the radio, I sat down next to my dad asking himwhat we were going to do for heat, he just answered I dont know I justdont know. shaking his head in resistance. Later that day I was over at afriends house who had heat. We were playing a video game and eating chips inhis living room. The walls had many game heads on them, one of the nicer oneswas a whole stuffed mountain lion that his dad once had a special tag to hunt. The whole time I was there I was brainstorming on how to get heat in our house. Soon I was in the back seat of our extended cab black GMC pickup. My littlebrother was on my moms lap and my dad was just starting to drive onto theonramp. Which is not an easy task on a daily basis, when you live in Detroit. Assoon as we started getting close to the freeway there was a huge traffic jam. Ithink we must have been there for about and hour and a half. I dont reallyremember because I was trying to go to sleep. When I woke up we were on thefreeway driving about 40 m.p.h. because there were so many cars. But soon wewere back in my neighborhood. We stopped at the local McDonalds to get somelunch. Luckily my dad had gotten his pay check cashed and in the bank the nightbefore. So as we walk into the McDonalds we find surprisingly small lines. Iordered what I always order at McDonalds, a number 7 value meal. This containstwo cheeseburgers, large fries, and a large drink. After we all had ordered andfinished eating, we drove back to my house. A two story medium sized house with hunter green trim. I walked up to the door and opened it with the key I weararound my neck I walked in finding it no warmer than outside. I walked over tothe bathroom, still thinking of how to warm the place up, while I relievedmyself from the super sized Mountain Dew I had just finished drinking. Then itcame to me, I could warm up the house by leaving our electric oven open on about350o. So I took this idea to my mom, I approached her with a look of genius onmy face. Seeing me looking like that my mom started cracking up as soon as Iwalked into the room. Guessing that this was not the greatest time to talk to mymom about a silly idea like mine. But what better time is then from now? I am,correction, WE are all cold it is in the middle of winter, and there is no heat. .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd , .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .postImageUrl , .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd , .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:hover , .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:visited , .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:active { border:0!important; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:active , .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .uc5495d66ace3b8cd5e75a108f40db6fd:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Bioclimatic architecture EssaySo I walked up to my mom as smoothly as a pair of old worn out Airwalks arecapable of, and had already gained her attention by the cheesy but smart look onmy face. Telling her about my idea actually went a lot smoother than I wouldhave guessed it to have. She thought it was a good idea but had to make sureabout a hundred other times that I was talking about the electric oven and notthe gas one. Of course I was talking about the electric oven, what did sheassume I had a death wish or something? I was about to come back with the smartcomment dont assume Mom, do you know what assuming makes out of us?But then I thought that it would probably be b etter to just keep my mouth shut,than to get in trouble for talking back to my Mom. Well we did that for about aweek or so, and then the gas line was fixed. FINALLY, heat!!! Boy was I happy tobe back living with the fake fireplace working again, those corny looking logswith a flame coming out of the middle of them. Well I guess I cant complain, Inever had to chop wood, unlike some of my other friends.

Home free essay sample

She was a fortress the way she stood each day, as I returned from school, basking in the blood-red light of sundown. Her face was always turned toward me as she would let me in from the cold world, still keeping watch as I entered into her safety. She used to be a young protector. Now I wake up at night to hear her bones aching in the floorboards, and her body shaking in the window panes from the cold night winds. She will notice that I am awake and hush me back to bed. She is growing old, and I am noticing this each day.She has watched me age year after year.I have measured my height with pencil marks on her kitchen wall. I have played hide and seek in her boxwoods. I have looked out at the rising sun and moon with her each morning and night without saying a word. We will write a custom essay sample on Home or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page She wished me luck on my way to school each day and asked how it went when I came back. She always was the first to hear a poem of mine, a speech, an essay, silently nodding. She listened to me speak my mind, my memories of the congressional page program or my lines of Macbeth, and looked at my drawings and listened to my guitar playing. During winter nights, her fire would warm me, and during summer nights she would lull me to bed with the pitter-patter of rain on her roof, and now, 17 years later, she is still my protector, but slowly she is fading.Her paint is falling from her body like leaves from a tree. Father paints her back to her white sheen again, but every time it takes more paint. Every time it takes more work. When Irene came, she leaned farther than she did when Katrina visited. She was ready for Katrina and faced her fearlessly, but Irene made her stumble a bit, and we noticed. Each year her problems grew. It was harder for her to keep us warm like she had in past winters. Cold winds blew more easily through her, and humid summer air was harder for her to dispel. The elements sensed her weakness and each night blew harder at her door. More and more we see new fortresses sprout from the ground like weeds. They are younger than she is and stronger too. I am worried for her in this fast moving world. Soon she will lose me like she lost my sister. I have promised her that I will return, and that I will never give her up to someone else. I promise that I will become successful and bring her back to her prime. She smiles and hushes me to bed. Soon I will leave her, a symbol of my life thus far. But everything up to this point has been building to this moment, my departure from her, my home. She has been preparing me for this moment. Part of me says that this was bound to happen once I came of age and prepared to start my life on my own. In the end, she was a part of my life, a skin that I was going to shed. I understand now. Her responsibility was ending, and with that, she was too. I will be letting go, and while I will miss her once I am gone, it is what she wants for me. She raised me. With caring arms she held me tight the day I was born, rocking me in her cradle. I look to the coming years with hope that each time I see her again she will see the progress I have made and the man that I have become. As I pack my bags for the next phase of my life, she will be waiting for me to visit her every now and again. Home free essay sample As a baggage handler tossed a suitcase on the plane, another passenger threw it off again to make room for his piece of luggage. With tensions rising, the crowd around the small plane pushed and shoved, shouting in French and Swahili. Finally, the fighting ended as every possible piece of luggage was crammed in the interior of the plane. It was time to board. My family and I had arrived at the airport, called Kavumu, early in the morning, not knowing when our plane would be ready to fly. Kavumu had one runway, about six small commercial planes, a few UN helicopters, and a lot of Congolese soldiers. The airplanes were two-ton Russian Antonovs, piloted by Russian pilots on six-month shifts to Congo. Speaking only Russian, the pilots could not communicate with anyone at the airport. There was no waiting room, so my family and I sat outside on our luggage, shielding our faces from the dust that each plane raised as it taxied onto the runway. We will write a custom essay sample on Home or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page We waited five or six hours for our airplane to come in from another village. Once our plane had been loaded and the crowd around it subsided, I looked up into the plane. Baggage reached the ceiling of the small plane, not secured in any way. The loaders had left a space the size of a small closet for my family and two other passengers to sit, not on seats with safety belts, but on boxes and luggage. We hoped the unsecured luggage wouldnt come crashing down on us. An hour later we landed in the village of Kipaka and felt a blast of jungle heat. Workers tossed our luggage out onto the grass airstrip. I stepped out of the plane to witness a crowd waving in welcome. Our church choir stood in the grass singing a welcome song in Swahili, accompanied by a wooden drum. A line of church elders stood waiting to shake our hands, beaming through the rivulets of sweat dripping down their faces. Jumping and exclaiming, village children gawked at us and the plane that had brought us. Incongruous to most of the world, the air service fit right in with Congo and the people it connected. The Western idea of â€Å"safety first† is far away in Congo, a place where most parents lose at least two of their children at a young age. Death is imminent, and dangers in the air do not seem significant because all of life is risky. A Westerner might wonder at the lack of seats or a waiting room, but a Congolese would not think twice. With survival as the focus, comfort is unlooked for and falls low on the priority list for people who struggle for daily food. The pushing and shoving seem bewildering until one considers the personal nature of the Congolese world compared to the Western world. The West follows the absolute law of the airport. Baggage allowances are final, and no amount of pleading changes that for anyone. In Congo, no rule is absolute, and exceptions are made on an individual basis. Each passenger tries until the very last moment, hoping someone might allow his luggage on board on a whim. My life leads me to stand in the middle, understanding both worlds but belonging to neither. I am neither Congolese nor Western, but standing on that airstrip, I was home Home free essay sample Trees gently sway in the wind. Leaves underneath me crunch while I wander deeper into the waking forest. The cold air kisses my bare cheek, leaving me with goosebumps and a runny nose. Throughout my walk on the trail, clumps of small, pastel, purple flowers welcome me. I notice that the trees are grouped into families. Long skinny trees, about as tall as a mast’s sail, stand together. They are nude with their coffee colored leaves in mounds on the ground. Gigantic pines line up in far reaching-columns, bare except for the needle-capped tops. Roots, deep in the ground, claim their home. After wandering the path for a good distance, I stumble upon a lake. Sitting on its bay, I am secluded. The ground is still damp from the night’s dew rendering my bottom unpleasantly wet. The lake is calmly waving hello to me with slow ripples. A descended pine tree is to my left. We will write a custom essay sample on Home or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page Slowly decaying, it is covered only by a few pine cones and browning needles. The tree looks comfortable, stretched out on the soft earth. Another tree is on my right, still decorated with pine cones, but slowly decaying. The tree was recently introduced to the horizontal life. Both trees seem so content and at home. The season around me is changing. Leaves painted in greens start to burst into warm colors of reds, yellows, and speckled golds. Some flutter softly to the forest floor. The rising sun, north of me, is even more bright and colorful than the changing leaves. Nesting in my spot, the once disrupted nature is calming. A few small songbirds in the distance are fighting to perch on branches soaked in the warmth of the sun. Some of the birds are still waking and singing their lovely morning songs. Others are scurrying around, busy collecting materials to construct their homes for the winter. A large bird with wings spread across the lake catches my attention. He is illuminated by the strong beams of the sun while gliding across the calm waters. Valiantly, he dives down, aiming for a fish. He misses, instead making a giant ripple across the tame lake. The birds belong in nature. They give the forest songs of love and busy work, creating both chaos and harmony. A small chatty chipmunk rustles the leaves on the ground while scattering to the large jack pine that sits to my left. He effortlessly makes his way to the highest peak of the fallen tree and glares at me. The chipmunk lets out a high pitched screech, furiously shaking his entire self. I look closer, realizing he is angry with me. I am in his home. His black eyes connect with mine one last time before he leaps off the tree. After zigzagging around like a mad man, he settles for a tree by the lake with long branches. Everything belongs. Hand in hand, we are both laughing. His smile is so comforting and familiar. The warm, contagious laugh that could put a grin on even the grumpiest of faces. He looks at me with his endlessly deep blue eyes, and says â€Å"I love you†. We’re driving down the curvy road to my house with leaves being whisked into the air as we pass by, admiring the colors of autumn. I notice the deep green color of the pine trees which reminds me that I may not have physical roots that keep me connected, but I do have memories. This is home to me. As I walk down the trail back, I realized every single thing belongs here. I say goodbye to the families of trees, as they wave the few leaves they have left. The songs of the birds start to become distant. Everything continues with their busy days’ work, as I head back home.