10 Pounds, 1 Hour

An easy to follow step-by-step 'How To' tutorial for one of the most important skills necessary in life!  In less than one hour, you too can lose 10 pounds in one hour!

-||-

Step 1:  Despite the advice you receive from your fellowship interviewer ["If you get this fellowship, I'd highly recommend traveling like they did in the old days...  Without a cell phone, laptop, iPod, etc."], pack the laptop, charger, videocamera, and even laptop desk lock you think is required to travel.

Step 2:  Also pack considerably useful gifts that friends have donated to you in the greater purpose of traveling.


Step 3:  Travel.  For a considerably long period of time.  To places you've never been, have always wanted to see, and will regret if you don't do before you die.  Because, hey, you have only one life.


Step 4:  Use said laptop and accessories frequently.  Almost unhealthily, sometimes to the point where you think it might actually be detrimental to your experience abroad.


Step 5:  Three-quarters of the way through your year, use your laptop to desperately try to watch 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' on YouTube, realize it's only an edited copy [for some reason with all of the gargoyle dialogue cut out], and allow the computer to automatically shut down.


Step 6:  After several attempts to shut off and on the laptop [about a week's worth of attempts, just to make sure], begin to slap and punch it.  You know, just to make sure something that's moving inside shouldn't be.  Logic.


Step 7:  Take laptop to a modern nomad you dance with at milongas, drink several bottles of Argentine wine with him and his computer nerd roommates, eat plenty of olives, cheese, and dulce de membrillo, and share life secrets.  Maybe even learn to blow smoke rings using the modern nomad's smokeless pipe.  At the end of it all, realize you still have yet to identify the problem with your laptop, and actually begin to do it at six o' clock the following morning.


Step 8:  Learn that all of the information on your laptop might be gone.


Step 9:  Upon high recommendation by your host, take the laptop three blocks away to a computer technician who's supposedly fabuloso.


Step 10:  Realize he is.  Not only does he identify the problem with the laptop and transfers the most important documents from your harddrive onto a thumb drive, he does it for free.  Feeling bad, donate your laptop and charger to him and buy another memory card for your camera [chances of uploading photos in the last few months are now slim] and a pair of headphones to replace the broken one for your iPod [why did everything technical I own broke down in the same 24 hour span?].  At this point, he may offer to sell everything to you half off.  Agree, and realize you just fixed most of your problems for about $22 USD.


Step 11:  While on this purge, give to your host the videocamera and laptop lock.  You won't need it now. 


Step 12:  Ask dear friends who have donated things to you for traveling where you should send their things.  Let them tell you it's okay to just give it all away.


Step 13:  Donate said belongings to your host, who knows companies that will certainly give these belongings to the people who need them.


Step 14:  Continue traveling, this time physically and emotionally lighter.

-||-

These fourteen easy-to-follow steps are now in your hands!  Good luck, future weight-watcher!  Lose that weight; no traveling life is worth living if you haven't done so.  Why carry broken things when you can leave them behind?  Mmm, symbolism!

I myself have tried it only once, but I can attest to the effectiveness of this program!  If I've learned anything from this How-To, it's this: losing weight in a healthy and safe manner can make you incredibly happy.  Incredibly.

Note:  Actual weight loss may vary.  I've lost about 10 pounds, but there's so much more weight I can lose before heading off to the City of Lights!

Note:  How do you continue to communicate with friends and family and update your blog regularly while traveling?  You don't.

Note:  However, you might occasionally run into a roommate, host, stranger, or internet cafe where they'll let you use one for a while.  Maybe.

[Tim O'Brien]

Steal Fire Extinguishers

An easy to follow step-by-step 'How To' tutorial for one of the most important skills necessary in life!  In less than a week, you too can [illegally?] play with an Australian fire extinguisher!

-||-

Step 1:  Invite random friends who you don't really know from one of your dance classes to drinks, not romantically, but because going home early during the day is embarrassing to you and your hosts.

Step 2:  Get invited to the birthday party of said dancer friend's friend, preferably a karaoke bar, three days later.

Step 3:  Go to said karaoke bar birthday party, with the promise of everyone at the karaoke bar to have tone deaf ears.

Step 4:  Upon entering the bar, notice the 38 year old Malaysian woman singing "I Will Always Love You" and "The Power of Love" sings with the vocal accuracy and intensity of Whitney Houston and Celine Dion.  Also notice the poorly dressed [mysterious red dress, oversized men's blazer, coke-bottle glasses, shabby red wig, wrinkly white stockings, and 4-day facial hair] drag queen sitting in the corner.

Step 5:  Realize that everyone in the bar actually can sing, including all of the birthday party guests.  Except for the drag queen, who attempted to sing "Dancing Queen."  Not so mysterious symbolism.

Step 6:  Come to the resolution that you won't sing in front of these strangers.

Step 7:  Fall under the peer pressure to imbibe on the many bottles of beer and cider bought for you by said dancer friend and new not-dancer-friend-of-dancer-friend, and in return buy the house chicken wing specialty.

Step 8:  Talk about heartbreaks for at least 20 minutes.

Step 9:  Sing Savage Garden's "I Knew I Loved You" in a trio with said dancer friend and new not-dancer-friend-of-dancer-friend, and not realize that no one clapped at the end.  Continue partaking in beer and cider.

Step 10:  Bike home safely whilst under the influence.

Step 11:  Eat a quick snack of peanut butter and jelly on toast, and a few bites of the gnocchi and tomato sauce you made for dinner earlier that day.

Step 12:  Vomit the food you just ate.

Step 13:  Sleep for 5 hours, and get up mid-morning to make a breakfast of Weet-bix and bananas.  After taking one bite, realize you still feel like vomiting and go back to sleep.

Step 14:  Wake up in the afternoon, make two bowls of ramen and eggs, and notice how thankful you are to be alive, and how you'll never touch a drop of alcohol again.

Step 15:  Get a text from new-not-dancer-friend-of-dancer-friend inviting you to the Wine & Food Festival nearby.

Step 16:  Arrive at the Wine & Food Festival to meet up with new-not-dancer-friend-of-dancer-friend for a few minutes, and watch as he and his friends leave.

Step 17:  Wander around the Festival on your own, watching Australian bands cover 80s rock songs and Beyonce.  Additionally, notice how many people are walking around with glasses of wine, and how looking at said glasses delivers a hard pang to your stomach and kidneys.

Step 18:  Watch Master Chef Michael Weldon make ratatouille.

Step 19:  Get two free loaves of bread.  WHAT.

Step 20:  Stop by the American Candy Stand Cupcake Cafe, and inquire on what makes the American Hot Dog they sell American.  Note how expensive the candy is [$4 for a single Twinkie, $1 for a Reese's Mini Peanut Butter Cup, $1 for a single Twizzler, etc.].  Buy a chocolate cherry ripe cupcake instead.

Step 21:  Read Sun Tzu's The Art of War.  Get asked by the girl sitting in the table next to you what could make war an art.  Carry on the conversation for several hours.

Step 22:  Get invited to go with Kaitlin Honeychurch [yes, that must be her name] and her friend, both of whom who work in the Cupcake Cafe, to drinks.

Step 23:  Just drink water.  Keep rehydrating.

Step 24:  Meet friends of Kaitlin Honeychurch's friend.  Discuss traveling, security guards, sticky floors, romance, and wine.

Step 25:  Insist on going home, because you have important dance school teachers to meet in the morning, and end up walking with new friends.

Step 26:  Walk past the deconstruction of the Wine & Food Festival, and watch as your new [inebriated] friend picks up the fire extinguisher a few feet away from the construction men, and let yourself be whisked down a different street [leading away from your bike] to avoid being caught.

Step 27:  Let chaos ensue with said fire hydrant.

Step 28:  Explain to one of your new friends [who bears an uncanny resemblance to Amy Winehouse, Megan Fox, and Katy Perry] that running into the carbon dioxide spray won't melt her face and turn it into acid and force her to live on the outskirts of society.

-||-

These twenty eight easy-to-follow steps are now in your hands!  Good luck, future renegade of the law!  Steal those fire hydrants; no life is worth living if you haven't done so.  Although the material gains are minimal, the moments experienced and the memories made are worth more than their weight!

I myself have tried it only once, but I can attest to the effectiveness of this program!  If I've learned anything from this How-To, it's this: if you turn down alcohol offered from a semi-stranger, it might cost you the opportunity to break the law.

Note:  I made the poor decision to not hydrate whilst partaking in delicious beer and cider.  Don't make the same mistake.  Water water water.

[Dillinger]

Network in 9 Hours!

An easy to follow step-by-step 'How To' tutorial for one of the most important skills necessary in life!  In nine hours and nine steps, you too can leave a third world country with an impressively thick stack of business cards [that aren't your own]!

-||-

Step 1:  Attend the 'Etiquette Dinner' offered at your college, hosted by the college president's wife [does that make her the First Lady of the college?] to learn proper dinner and social event manners and factoids, including how to butter your dinner roll, how to gather soup with your spoon, what to do if you need to use the bathroom, in what order to use the utensils, and what a sauce spoon looks like.

Step 2:  Graduate, avoid the real world by traveling it, and realize that you'll never use what you learned at the Etiquette Dinner, or that anyone will notice you eating ice cream with a soup spoon.

Step 3:  Live in a Catechist's Training Center in Gulu, Uganda, and have a deep and lengthy conversation with nuns who live next door about how you don't know what you're going to do with your life, how you're struggling choosing between passion and profession, and how you so desperately don't want to be the old man who's unhappy with his job and looks back and wonders about 'what could have been.'

Step 4:  Attend break dance classes as usual, and meet an Australian photographer, his wife an American manager, his friend a Kenyan traveler, and the Kenyan's friend a Ugandan clothes designer who are in Gulu to photograph women disfigured by the LRA dressed in high fashion [all to show that "they are still beautiful"].

Step 5:  Accept their offer of going back to their hotel for drinks, and ride on the back of a truck next to their their camera equipment and spare tire.  Partake in an hour or so of Waragi [fermented sugar cane juice, or the Ugandan equivalent of gin] and have a merry time explaining why you're traveling.  Take pictures, meet more of their traveling friends [one of whom was supposed to go to NYU for musical theater but instead chose UCSB for Ecology, Evolution, and Marine Biology], and excuse yourself to attend a farewell dinner party for a Spanish woman - a music therapist - you met through the cultural talent center, also of which you had been taking dance classes.

Step 6:  Before leaving, offer your business card [really just a torn piece of notebook paper with your name and email address on it; explain it's avant garde] to keep in touch, connect through facebook, and update each other on travels.  Expect to receive a business card in return, or at least their avant garde contact information.

Step 7:  Eat ensaladilla rossa [Russian salad] and guacamole with chapati chips and some kind of eggplant quiche dish with a hearty glass [or mug] of Ugandan wine.

Step 8:  Converse with incredibly good looking Spanish speakers [one of whom worked for NBC, and also covered a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and the New Year's Ball Drop in Times Square] and a delightfully dry-humored British woman - no, not you, Cassie - who graduated from Harvard ["With the big shiny 'H' under my belt and a British accent, I know I can hold my own in a conversation and at least have the audience's attention."] and is currently trying to empower youth through building a tennis court and an ice cream shop for a nearby high school.  Extra points if she knows someone who graduated from your college and knows how to spell it.

Step 9:  Repeat Step 6.  Particularly with the British woman, who may offer you a place to stay in Kampala before going back to Entebbe Airport in two weeks.

Update | Optional:  Get chased at high speed by a rabid dog on the back of a boda boda at midnight.

-||-

And there you have it, the nine steps of networking!  Good luck, young one!  Make me proud and get those business cards.  Remember, practice makes perfect, but since these fleeting encounters and brief meetings happen once in a lifetime, don't mess up too much.  That might cost you a possible connection to someone else in another country, a place to stay, or maybe even a lover...  

Note[s]:  Results may vary.  Actually, results are most likely to vary, especially if you're not filled with wanderlust, willing to go to a stranger's home, desperate to speak with English speakers, or just "so darn cute".  Additionally, just because you network and come home with a heaping stack of business cards does not mean you'll have a job, either right away or in the future.  That requires much  more work and attention I have yet to acquire.  Oh, and Step 1 and Step 2 may actually take more than 9 hours, but I felt as if they were crucial to learning proper networking skills.

[A Reference for the Rest of Us]