Off in a small Pakistani village, a woman and two children form a tiny circle on the floor. The woman gently stitches her needle in and out of a piece of fabric – the base of a gorgeous pink and white flower is starting to form. The two children gaze at their elder in awe. Hope and excitement glimmer in their eyes – they know that in time, they will be able to help make these beautiful greeting cards as well.
Double majoring isn’t easy. Now, that may sound pretty obvious to most students. Or you might completely disagree. If you’re the type of overzealous academic who would dare a double major (or an extremely brave triple), the intellectual and scheduling strain of juggling two majors is probably perfect for your productivity. I thrive with a heavy course load and tightly structured days. My problem is more of a social and environmental problem.
It was a sweltering summer day in a village outside of Nairobi, Africa. Jenna Tourje, a second-year graduate student in urban and regional planning, approached a man who lived in a mud hut in the middle of the African savannah. Armed with a translator at her side, Tourje sat down, among the gathering of goats and chickens, to speak with the man about his water needs in order to understand what kind of project her group, Engineers Without Borders (EWB), could accomplish at that site. As the conversation came to an end, Tourje heard the ring of a cell phone. To her surprise, the man, who had almost nothing to support his three wives and starving children, took out a cell phone. At the moment, Tourje realized how incredibly connected the world had become.
Most people don’t remember the dreams they had as a child. For me, however, the vivid images of my childhood nightmares will be forever ingrained in my memory because they always involve the same scenario: an earthquake.
