Another day, another typhoon.
But, I got to go home early and buy souvenirs at the mall. At one store, I walked up to the checkout counter and waited in line. In front of me was a young Filipina carrying a Gucci handbag. She and the girl behind the counter were talking in Tagalog. The guy behind the counter stared at the floor.
The girl with the Gucci handbag stepped aside, and I put my presents on the counter. Both girls continued talking in Tagalog, giggling every time I handed the cashier a new gift. The guy behind the counter stared at the floor.
I turned to the girl with the Gucci handbag and said, "I think my family will like them." She responded in perfect English as the two employees carefully placed each gift into a gigantic bag.
The girl behind the counter handed me the bag.
"Thank you sir!"
I took it and smiled.
"Salamat po!"
Both girls turned bright red. The guy behind the counter looked up from the floor and burst out laughing.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Bring me some Booty!
Hey all, hope I got your attention. Sorry to use the blog, but I am sure you are all reading this and not your emails! Here is my pitch:
In all of your fabulous summer travels around the world, I am sure you are finding some amazing souvenirs and local goods that folks back in Princeton would love to own. I am hoping to catch some of you to ask you (if you are still out there traveling somewhere) to bring me back some exotic international goodies!
It's not for me, really, but for the upcoming Woo Service Auction that we are bringing back with style to the WWS this Fall. The Woo Service reps and I are taking on the fine tradition passed down from John Kaufman and his class to hold a silent auction to raise money for a NJ-based charity. The last one was held before we arrived at the Woo, and was apparently a lot of fun, and a big success. They raised over $5,000 and donated to a Trenton-based charity.
This year, we will be soliciting donations from everyone of whatever you can give, be it a home cooked meal, a handmade item, or free babysitting for an evening. Creativity is welcome! We plan to try to hold the auction along with skit night or another fun social event and we want to raise as much money as we can for a worthwhile charity. We have been thinking of a group in Newark that provides legal and other services for refugees, immigrants and victims of human trafficking, but will be finalizing all details in the coming weeks.
The brilliant idea (Sujata's, not mine) is that while some of you are out there in the far reaches of the world, that we should hit you up now to bring something back for the auction. It would be great to see waht everyone can bring back for us to sell at the auction - I am sure that we could get some amazingly unique items that people will love. So... come on, gimmie some booty!!
Also, please let me know if you have any qustions about the auction, want to help out at all, or are ready to donate! We will be sharing more details at the September 13th service event that I hope you all have on your calendars!
Can't wait to see you guys in the Fall!
Sue
In all of your fabulous summer travels around the world, I am sure you are finding some amazing souvenirs and local goods that folks back in Princeton would love to own. I am hoping to catch some of you to ask you (if you are still out there traveling somewhere) to bring me back some exotic international goodies!
It's not for me, really, but for the upcoming Woo Service Auction that we are bringing back with style to the WWS this Fall. The Woo Service reps and I are taking on the fine tradition passed down from John Kaufman and his class to hold a silent auction to raise money for a NJ-based charity. The last one was held before we arrived at the Woo, and was apparently a lot of fun, and a big success. They raised over $5,000 and donated to a Trenton-based charity.
This year, we will be soliciting donations from everyone of whatever you can give, be it a home cooked meal, a handmade item, or free babysitting for an evening. Creativity is welcome! We plan to try to hold the auction along with skit night or another fun social event and we want to raise as much money as we can for a worthwhile charity. We have been thinking of a group in Newark that provides legal and other services for refugees, immigrants and victims of human trafficking, but will be finalizing all details in the coming weeks.
The brilliant idea (Sujata's, not mine) is that while some of you are out there in the far reaches of the world, that we should hit you up now to bring something back for the auction. It would be great to see waht everyone can bring back for us to sell at the auction - I am sure that we could get some amazingly unique items that people will love. So... come on, gimmie some booty!!
Also, please let me know if you have any qustions about the auction, want to help out at all, or are ready to donate! We will be sharing more details at the September 13th service event that I hope you all have on your calendars!
Can't wait to see you guys in the Fall!
Sue
Thursday, August 7, 2008
There and Back Again - A Panda's Tale
In China, there are many Chinese. Nowhere is this fact more apparent than in Shanghai and Hong Kong.
My trip to Shanghai began, and nearly ended, in the visa line at the Chinese Embassy in Manila. After two weeks of figuring out paperwork and fees, I was finally ready to apply for my visa. I arrived Friday morning, six days before my flight to Shanghai, at 8:15 AM. I stepped through security into the waiting room and took a number from the desk. I looked at the slip of paper in my hand. It read 755. I looked up at the glowing number above the visa counter. It read 632. I took a seat.
At 11:15 AM, I stood up again and walked to the counter. The visa officer looked at my paperwork and promptly denied my application. There are only two possible explanations:
1. They saw Princeton twice on my application and thought, "Man, not another Free Tibet protestor!"
2. China's one-child policy has left the country dangerously short of girls. If they let me in, all the remaining girls will fall in love with me, leaving a country of frustrated young men, which political scientists have determined to be a necessary, though not sufficient, condition for increased radicalism in other countries (see: Saudi Arabia, Egypt, etc.).
Either way, I panicked. I took one of the slowest cabs in all of Makati back to my office and promptly sent Jon (Shanghai) an email that read something like this:
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey Jon,
How's it going? Not to bother you at work this afternoon, but I GOT DENIED FOR A FRICKIN' VISA AND I ONLY HAVE SIX DAYS BEFORE MY FLIGHT LEAVES AND I NEED THREE EXTREMELY IMPORTANT PIECES OF PAPER, WHICH NO AMERICAN DIPLOMAT IN MANILA HAS EVER HEARD OF AND WERE NEVER MENTIONED ON ANY WEBSITE, FROM YOU BY MONDAY OR I CAN'T COME VISIT YOU AND SEE THE PANDAS!!!!
So yeah, if you could send me that stuff by Monday, that would be great.
Have a good one,
Tom
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Jon (Shanghai) got me the stuff, and on Monday I stepped through security into the waiting room at the Chinese Embassy in Manila, paperwork in hand, and took a number from the desk. I looked at the slip of paper in my hand. It read 48. I looked up at the glowing number above the visa counter. It read 930. I took a seat.
Then, at around 11:30 AM, something unexpected happened. All the consular officers, six in total, stood up and left their respective windows. They disappeared into a back room. No one in the waiting room moved. I waited in my seat for 20 minutes. Then, for no real reason in particular, I turned around and looked at the sign behind me. It read:
---------------------------------------------
Embassy of the People's Republic of China
Visa Office
Application Hours 9:00 AM - 11:30 AM
---------------------------------------------
I returned to the Chinese Embassy at 7:30 AM Tuesday morning. I stepped through security and blah blah blah stepped up to the window around 11:00 AM. The visa officer shuffled through my paperwork for about ten seconds and told me to come back the next morning to pick up my visa.
On Wednesday morning, I paid $160 for my four day trip to Shanghai. On Thursday morning, I flew to Shanghai.
China was much different than I expected. The weather was warmer and more humid than in Manila. The locals weren't very nice. The chopsticks were tricky. The streets were crowded. Thankfully, the pandas were cuddly.
I only talked to one Chinese girl the entire trip. She was selling milk tea at the Shanghai airport. Right after I said "hello" to her in my very best Mandarin, she giggled and a huge smile flashed across her face. There are only two possible thoughts that could've crossed her mind at that moment:
1. OMG, that cute American boy speaks perfect Chinese! I'm in love.
2. OMG, did that guy just call me a horse?
Either way, the plane landed safely in Manila.
The next weekend, the rest of the interns and I took a Hong Kong. The trip started off well, until we got to the airport in Manila. As I was checking-in with the ticket agent, she suddenly interrupted my day-dreaming about pandas:
"Excuse me sir, is that yours?" She pointed to my three foot long black golf umbrella.
Of course it was mine. Knowing it was rainy season in Manila, I bought it at the Target in Ames before leaving home. The next day, that Target was underwater. For obvious reasons (including this, this, this, and this), I've taken that umbrella everywhere this summer, China included.
"Yes."
"Sir, you cannot carry it on the plane with you."
"Why not?"
"Because sir, it could be used as a weapon." She tapped the blunt tip with her finger. Thoughts raced through my mind. I chose my next words carefully.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes sir, I am serious."
Hong Kong was much different than I expected. Our hotel was absolutely beautiful; they even gave us free cheesecake. The Super Ferry from Hong Kong Island to Kowloon Island was very cheap and a great way to see the city skyline. You can even ride the world's longest escalator through the central part of the city.
But not everything was wonderful. After a half hour, you realize that the world's longest escalator is really still an escalator. I was looking forward to climbing Victoria's Peak, only to discover that you ride up the side of the mountain on a train. There are two shopping malls at the top, and the employees inside the Burger King there look at you funny when you ask for a massage.
Massage or not, I was ready to come back to the Philippines on Monday evening when we arrived at the Hong Kong airport. We walked inside the terminal to our ticket counter, looking forward to a nice, relaxing flight back to Manila. I handed my ticket confirmation and passport to the ticket agent.
"Excuse me sir, where is your final destination?"
"Manila."
"No, sir. Your passport says you are an American. Where is your final destination in the US?"
"Des Moines."
There was a long pause.
"Yes, sir. And where is your ticket confirmation to....Des Moines?"
"Well, I don't leave for three weeks still. I didn't bring that confirmation with me because it's part of a different trip."
"Yes, sir. But I need to see your onward reservation in order to book you for your flight to Manila. Immigration will not allow you back into the Philippines without a copy of your onward reservation."
"But I have a valid visa. And I just went to Shanghai last weekend and re-entered with no problems."
"Sir, the rules say that you must have a copy of your onward reservation." I chose my next words carefully.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes sir, I am serious."
She directed me to the information booth, so I could find the Japan Airlines ticket counter and print off a copy of my flight itinerary three weeks in advance. Not surprisingly, Japan Airlines did not have any flights departing that evening, and all its staff had gone home for the day.
I ran back to the ticket counter. The agent informed me that I could go to the nearby coffee shop and use their internet to email my ticket confirmation to the desk agent. I checked my watch. My flight boarded in a half hour.
I past the coffee shop counter and sat down at the computer. It didn't have a mouse. I tried, in vain, to open my email and find the ticket confirmation using only the keyboard. I heard giggling from behind the counter. A sign above the computer read: "Computer only for customer use. Mouse available at counter." I ran to the counter and ordered a $3.50 bottle of water. After emailing the confirmation to the only email address listed on the airline website, I ran back to the ticket counter.
I stopped to catch my breath. The agent looked at me, then scribbled down a different email address. I stared at the blunt tip of my umbrella for a moment, then took the piece of paper and ran back to the coffee shop.
A few minutes later, I ran to the ticket counter for a fourth time. The old ticket agent had gone on break. The new one took my ticket confirmation and passport, and ten seconds later she wished me a happy flight. I stared at the blunt tip of my umbrella for a moment, then thanked her and ran toward my departure gate.
Tomorrow night, most of the world will watch the opening ceremonies in Beijing. I think I'll just go to bed early.
My trip to Shanghai began, and nearly ended, in the visa line at the Chinese Embassy in Manila. After two weeks of figuring out paperwork and fees, I was finally ready to apply for my visa. I arrived Friday morning, six days before my flight to Shanghai, at 8:15 AM. I stepped through security into the waiting room and took a number from the desk. I looked at the slip of paper in my hand. It read 755. I looked up at the glowing number above the visa counter. It read 632. I took a seat.
At 11:15 AM, I stood up again and walked to the counter. The visa officer looked at my paperwork and promptly denied my application. There are only two possible explanations:
1. They saw Princeton twice on my application and thought, "Man, not another Free Tibet protestor!"
2. China's one-child policy has left the country dangerously short of girls. If they let me in, all the remaining girls will fall in love with me, leaving a country of frustrated young men, which political scientists have determined to be a necessary, though not sufficient, condition for increased radicalism in other countries (see: Saudi Arabia, Egypt, etc.).
Either way, I panicked. I took one of the slowest cabs in all of Makati back to my office and promptly sent Jon (Shanghai) an email that read something like this:
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey Jon,
How's it going? Not to bother you at work this afternoon, but I GOT DENIED FOR A FRICKIN' VISA AND I ONLY HAVE SIX DAYS BEFORE MY FLIGHT LEAVES AND I NEED THREE EXTREMELY IMPORTANT PIECES OF PAPER, WHICH NO AMERICAN DIPLOMAT IN MANILA HAS EVER HEARD OF AND WERE NEVER MENTIONED ON ANY WEBSITE, FROM YOU BY MONDAY OR I CAN'T COME VISIT YOU AND SEE THE PANDAS!!!!
So yeah, if you could send me that stuff by Monday, that would be great.
Have a good one,
Tom
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Jon (Shanghai) got me the stuff, and on Monday I stepped through security into the waiting room at the Chinese Embassy in Manila, paperwork in hand, and took a number from the desk. I looked at the slip of paper in my hand. It read 48. I looked up at the glowing number above the visa counter. It read 930. I took a seat.
Then, at around 11:30 AM, something unexpected happened. All the consular officers, six in total, stood up and left their respective windows. They disappeared into a back room. No one in the waiting room moved. I waited in my seat for 20 minutes. Then, for no real reason in particular, I turned around and looked at the sign behind me. It read:
---------------------------------------------
Embassy of the People's Republic of China
Visa Office
Application Hours 9:00 AM - 11:30 AM
---------------------------------------------
I returned to the Chinese Embassy at 7:30 AM Tuesday morning. I stepped through security and blah blah blah stepped up to the window around 11:00 AM. The visa officer shuffled through my paperwork for about ten seconds and told me to come back the next morning to pick up my visa.
On Wednesday morning, I paid $160 for my four day trip to Shanghai. On Thursday morning, I flew to Shanghai.
China was much different than I expected. The weather was warmer and more humid than in Manila. The locals weren't very nice. The chopsticks were tricky. The streets were crowded. Thankfully, the pandas were cuddly.
I only talked to one Chinese girl the entire trip. She was selling milk tea at the Shanghai airport. Right after I said "hello" to her in my very best Mandarin, she giggled and a huge smile flashed across her face. There are only two possible thoughts that could've crossed her mind at that moment:
1. OMG, that cute American boy speaks perfect Chinese! I'm in love.
2. OMG, did that guy just call me a horse?
Either way, the plane landed safely in Manila.
The next weekend, the rest of the interns and I took a Hong Kong. The trip started off well, until we got to the airport in Manila. As I was checking-in with the ticket agent, she suddenly interrupted my day-dreaming about pandas:
"Excuse me sir, is that yours?" She pointed to my three foot long black golf umbrella.
Of course it was mine. Knowing it was rainy season in Manila, I bought it at the Target in Ames before leaving home. The next day, that Target was underwater. For obvious reasons (including this, this, this, and this), I've taken that umbrella everywhere this summer, China included.
"Yes."
"Sir, you cannot carry it on the plane with you."
"Why not?"
"Because sir, it could be used as a weapon." She tapped the blunt tip with her finger. Thoughts raced through my mind. I chose my next words carefully.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes sir, I am serious."
Hong Kong was much different than I expected. Our hotel was absolutely beautiful; they even gave us free cheesecake. The Super Ferry from Hong Kong Island to Kowloon Island was very cheap and a great way to see the city skyline. You can even ride the world's longest escalator through the central part of the city.
But not everything was wonderful. After a half hour, you realize that the world's longest escalator is really still an escalator. I was looking forward to climbing Victoria's Peak, only to discover that you ride up the side of the mountain on a train. There are two shopping malls at the top, and the employees inside the Burger King there look at you funny when you ask for a massage.
Massage or not, I was ready to come back to the Philippines on Monday evening when we arrived at the Hong Kong airport. We walked inside the terminal to our ticket counter, looking forward to a nice, relaxing flight back to Manila. I handed my ticket confirmation and passport to the ticket agent.
"Excuse me sir, where is your final destination?"
"Manila."
"No, sir. Your passport says you are an American. Where is your final destination in the US?"
"Des Moines."
There was a long pause.
"Yes, sir. And where is your ticket confirmation to....Des Moines?"
"Well, I don't leave for three weeks still. I didn't bring that confirmation with me because it's part of a different trip."
"Yes, sir. But I need to see your onward reservation in order to book you for your flight to Manila. Immigration will not allow you back into the Philippines without a copy of your onward reservation."
"But I have a valid visa. And I just went to Shanghai last weekend and re-entered with no problems."
"Sir, the rules say that you must have a copy of your onward reservation." I chose my next words carefully.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes sir, I am serious."
She directed me to the information booth, so I could find the Japan Airlines ticket counter and print off a copy of my flight itinerary three weeks in advance. Not surprisingly, Japan Airlines did not have any flights departing that evening, and all its staff had gone home for the day.
I ran back to the ticket counter. The agent informed me that I could go to the nearby coffee shop and use their internet to email my ticket confirmation to the desk agent. I checked my watch. My flight boarded in a half hour.
I past the coffee shop counter and sat down at the computer. It didn't have a mouse. I tried, in vain, to open my email and find the ticket confirmation using only the keyboard. I heard giggling from behind the counter. A sign above the computer read: "Computer only for customer use. Mouse available at counter." I ran to the counter and ordered a $3.50 bottle of water. After emailing the confirmation to the only email address listed on the airline website, I ran back to the ticket counter.
I stopped to catch my breath. The agent looked at me, then scribbled down a different email address. I stared at the blunt tip of my umbrella for a moment, then took the piece of paper and ran back to the coffee shop.
A few minutes later, I ran to the ticket counter for a fourth time. The old ticket agent had gone on break. The new one took my ticket confirmation and passport, and ten seconds later she wished me a happy flight. I stared at the blunt tip of my umbrella for a moment, then thanked her and ran toward my departure gate.
Tomorrow night, most of the world will watch the opening ceremonies in Beijing. I think I'll just go to bed early.
For All The Filipinas In My Life
Last night, Alvin and his family had me over for supper. They fed me milkfish, squid, BBQ pork, egg rolls, salad, rice, mangos, bananas, coconut ice cream, and soup with chicken, potatoes, and little green leaves that new mothers are supposed to eat. It was delicious.
His father and mother have been to Iowa. Ames, in fact.
After supper, we drove to the University of the Philippines, which my sources tell me is the best university in the Philippines, to take pictures by its most famous statue.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Woos in Nicaragua
Christina: Completed 306 (if I am not mistaken) interviews with microfinance clients all over Nicaragua and now chilling on a small island off the Caribbean coast.
Carlos: Currently attempting to put on weight by eating lots of mamón (see below).
Me: Decided that my future house MUST feature both hammocks and rocking chairs, preferably from Nicaragua.
With Carlos, mamón, hammock, and Christina in absentia.
Location: Shore of crater lake, Laguna de Apoyo
Carlos: Currently attempting to put on weight by eating lots of mamón (see below).
Me: Decided that my future house MUST feature both hammocks and rocking chairs, preferably from Nicaragua.
With Carlos, mamón, hammock, and Christina in absentia.
Location: Shore of crater lake, Laguna de Apoyo
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Question for those who know trade!
So... while I may not have come away from Esteban's class with much knowledge... I do at least know who to ask my questions about macro policy and trade issues! So this question humbly goes out to all you econ-smarties out there...
With the recent collapse of the trade talks, countries that currently enjoy preferential access for agricultural goods into European (and a bit US, but less so) markets actually win, yes? They will likely continue to enjoy the preferential access rather than having all the trade issues addressed on a global scale (or at least slightly more comprehensively than the current hodge-podge of agreements).
The specific context I am thinking about is Mozambique (and a bit Tanzania), which gets general preferential access to the EU under Everything But Arms and some LDC deals, and has a specific arrangement around sugar (and by extension ethanol). Would the trade round have been likely to have changed much about the LDC agreements? My impression is that the relatively preferential access of LDCs would have mostly remained (not my area though, at all)...
margaret.sh@gmail.com is the best way to get hold of me
Thanks guys!
With the recent collapse of the trade talks, countries that currently enjoy preferential access for agricultural goods into European (and a bit US, but less so) markets actually win, yes? They will likely continue to enjoy the preferential access rather than having all the trade issues addressed on a global scale (or at least slightly more comprehensively than the current hodge-podge of agreements).
The specific context I am thinking about is Mozambique (and a bit Tanzania), which gets general preferential access to the EU under Everything But Arms and some LDC deals, and has a specific arrangement around sugar (and by extension ethanol). Would the trade round have been likely to have changed much about the LDC agreements? My impression is that the relatively preferential access of LDCs would have mostly remained (not my area though, at all)...
margaret.sh@gmail.com is the best way to get hold of me
Thanks guys!
Friday, August 1, 2008
a few thoughts
I have now returned to the US and am finishing up my WWF work in DC and I thought I would share a few personal reflections.
The flights around Mozambique and Tanzania offer a neat summary of the problems and opportunities in the area. They are an eclectic mix of individuals, but often the same overall mixture. There is a small sprinkling of locals and American religious missionaries. The largest group is composed of oil and gas developers, followed by groups Chinese businessmen with little to say about their intentions. The other significant group is foreign NGO and UN type organization aid workers; almost all in HIV/AIDS work… the flights are quite the window into who has wealth and interest in the region.
I must reiterate just how interesting it is to view development through the lens of agriculture- I find it enlightening. When looking at agriculture all the questions of livelihoods, gender relations, impacts and drivers of HIV/AIDS, impact of foreign assistance, politics and governance, education.. etc. Governance issues rise to prominence when confronting the bureaucratic and corruption hurtles necessary to scale before starting any size agricultural venture. Gender and health issues are quite clear with relation to whom in the family works the land, how long men stay with their families, and what the impacts are of increased wealth that follows large investments. The disaster that is most foreign assistance is striking to see as international food aid organizations purchase local corn and end up raising the price of staples locally and creating a food shortage where there was none previously- or the example of the World Bank directly causing the destruction of Mozambique’s cashew industry, which used to be the primary source of livelihoods for almost a quarter of the population…
Besides a lens into local development issues, agriculture also shows the impact of global issues – everything from the deterioration of the trade talks to the impact of rising oil prices to the U.S. election. Trade talks and oil prices both determine the trends in livelihoods for over 80 percent of the population- those involved in agriculture. As fuel prices rise, as Europe raises and lowers domestic form subsidies and changes the tariff regime – the profitability of crops grown by the majority of populations swings wildly, foreign companies that can provide desperately needed inputs and expertise will now flood into Mozambique and largely avoid Tanzania due to preferential access agreements already in place.
All in all, it has been a wonderful experience to work with WWF and to have an impact on their work, which I know will have tremendous repercussions for the way development goes forward for millions of people. I am lightly dreading returning to academia and leaving the intensity of this work. This experience has cemented my previous inclination towards working in this niche professionally after school. I enjoy it, find it fulfilling, believe in its benefit, and know I have something significant to contribute.
The flights around Mozambique and Tanzania offer a neat summary of the problems and opportunities in the area. They are an eclectic mix of individuals, but often the same overall mixture. There is a small sprinkling of locals and American religious missionaries. The largest group is composed of oil and gas developers, followed by groups Chinese businessmen with little to say about their intentions. The other significant group is foreign NGO and UN type organization aid workers; almost all in HIV/AIDS work… the flights are quite the window into who has wealth and interest in the region.
I must reiterate just how interesting it is to view development through the lens of agriculture- I find it enlightening. When looking at agriculture all the questions of livelihoods, gender relations, impacts and drivers of HIV/AIDS, impact of foreign assistance, politics and governance, education.. etc. Governance issues rise to prominence when confronting the bureaucratic and corruption hurtles necessary to scale before starting any size agricultural venture. Gender and health issues are quite clear with relation to whom in the family works the land, how long men stay with their families, and what the impacts are of increased wealth that follows large investments. The disaster that is most foreign assistance is striking to see as international food aid organizations purchase local corn and end up raising the price of staples locally and creating a food shortage where there was none previously- or the example of the World Bank directly causing the destruction of Mozambique’s cashew industry, which used to be the primary source of livelihoods for almost a quarter of the population…
Besides a lens into local development issues, agriculture also shows the impact of global issues – everything from the deterioration of the trade talks to the impact of rising oil prices to the U.S. election. Trade talks and oil prices both determine the trends in livelihoods for over 80 percent of the population- those involved in agriculture. As fuel prices rise, as Europe raises and lowers domestic form subsidies and changes the tariff regime – the profitability of crops grown by the majority of populations swings wildly, foreign companies that can provide desperately needed inputs and expertise will now flood into Mozambique and largely avoid Tanzania due to preferential access agreements already in place.
All in all, it has been a wonderful experience to work with WWF and to have an impact on their work, which I know will have tremendous repercussions for the way development goes forward for millions of people. I am lightly dreading returning to academia and leaving the intensity of this work. This experience has cemented my previous inclination towards working in this niche professionally after school. I enjoy it, find it fulfilling, believe in its benefit, and know I have something significant to contribute.
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