Lifestyle

If you’re like me, you will hesitate on clicking further into this article. Aren’t there enough of these lists? I wonder that, too. I’ve lived a strange life – we all have, if we stop and think about it – and most of it has been devoted to travelling. When I actually sit back and reflect on what I’ve learned, however, the things that stick with me most are not how to use a machete or take a shot of tequila without grimacing or find my way through a new city, although those things are pretty cool. The things I’m proudest of learning are those that have to do with relationships with other people, with how I carry myself, and with how I view the world.

I am incredibly honoured to present the amazing organisation Femme International. Femme is a non-profit dedicated to advancing the rights and freedoms of women through education and personal health. We believe that by teaching feminine health education and essential hygiene, young women will be better able to attend school and work as well as participate in daily activities, thus systemically reducing the existing gender disparity. Femme has developed a Feminine Hygiene Management (FHM) program and is currently partnered with 6 schools and 2 community foundations in the Mathare slum of Nairobi, Kenya. In our inaugural year, we were able to reach over 200 young women, and plan to reach another 500 this year.

I thought, initially, that 2013 wasn’t a very eventful year. I watched as other friends travelled the world, got married, had children, got promoted, got published. But upon reflection I realised that this year was really a transition, or, if we should use that German word, a slide into the life I’m creating for myself.

Four days ago, in Zurich, Switzerland, I found my way to my hostel without consulting my map; I had stayed there once before, in the summer of 2006, and I let my feet and my intuition guide me there from the main train station. The trip started off well, and I spent the afternoon with mulled wine and lulled steps, slowly and deliberately making my way through the cobblestoned streets and their Christmas markets. Around 8pm, I went back to the hostel. That was my goal – every night, through Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and Austria, I’d spend at least a few hours writing.

I opened my MacBook Pro, my fingers still slightly numb from the cold. I turned on the computer, its familiar grey screen popping up before me. The little circle spun, spun, spun. Spun. And spun. Nothing.

There, standing on the bridge that would take me to my flat, is a young man, his arms outstretched in wanting embrace, his face delighted at the sight of me. Looking at him you would have thought we were old friends, new lovers, that we had shared laughs or drinks or at least a handshake.

I have never seen him before in my life.

There’s been a foreboding sense to this summer – I’ve known all along that, eventually, I’d be packing up and moving my life to London for an indefinite period of time. This isn’t a surprise; I’ve been talking about it since spring. And yet I’m the type of person who, instead of taking my time packing and organizing and planning, will leave everything until the very end. I leave in four days, and yet I still feel as though there’s a lot to do. That’s the way it always goes, though, isn’t it? There’s a lot to do and we stress out and then it’s just done.