Reflections

It’s not the end—It’s only the beginning

The following post was written by Bridge Year Fellow Farah Heikal. Farah spent her Bridge Year in Lebanon.

I am not afraid nor ashamed to admit that before I began my Bridge Year, I was lost with no sense of direction. Sure, I was doing just fine in my academics, checking every box on the list of ways to be successful in college. From a superficial perspective, I seemed to be great as a second-year UNC student that had mastered the balance of work, life, and school. However, innately I was in a constant state of confusion. Confused with what direction I was really planning on taking in life, unsure about the “5-year plan” I had meticulously crafted years before, and certainly in doubt about the level of motivation I had left in me.

Drowning in class assignments and work obligations, I had never had the time to truly reflect on anything […]

By |April 16th, 2020|Re-entry, Reflections|

Am I Ready for This?

by Logan Pratico

When my plane touched the ground in Cochabamba, Bolivia almost 3 weeks ago, my mind was a blender of emotion filled to the brim with both excitement and fear. Questions kept filling my head like “What did I get myself into?”; “What should I expect?”; and “Am I ready for this?” After all, only 4 short months ago I was a high schooler in a small town who had never traveled farther south than Texas.

As my mind further attempted to comprehend the fact that I was now living almost 4,000 miles away from home, I felt my stomach ache in anxiety. I could hear my mother’s words echoing in my head “If you ever want to come home, just call me, and we will get you on the next flight back to Chapel Hill.” Maybe living in Cochabamba wouldn’t turn out to be the awesome, unforgettable experience […]

Proof of an Angel

-Anna Brodmerkel, 2014 GGYF Fellow
“At forty-eight she has come to experience the solitude that her husband and son and daughter already know, and which they claim not to mind. ‘It’s not a big deal,’ her children tell her. ‘Everyone should live on their own at some point.’ But Ashima feels too old to learn such a skill… Now she does the laundry once a month. She no longer dusts, or notices dust, for that matter. She eats on the sofa, in front of the television, simple meals of buttered toast and dal… She works at the library to pass the time-she has been going regularly for years… and one day Mrs. Buxton, the head librarian, asked if she would be interested in a part-time position… Every three weekends her husband comes home… During his visits, Ashoke keeps his clothes in his suitcase, his shaving things in a bag by […]