Sometimes I will chit chat with my friends about what it was like growing up. During our discussions it becomes clear we had very different pasts. They dealt with snow and squirrels and I dealt with a cruel heat and monkeys. They got in trouble over stealing makeup, I got in trouble for stealing mangoes. We would look back sadly on those days, they are now long gone and the world will never be the same. But I noticed that I would always be much sadder about this nostalgia and I never quite understood why. After all, we all travel time and space in the same way, so why would thinking about my past make me so sad. A few days ago I took the liberty to Google earth my old neighborhood, so much had changed. I felt so sad, and that's when I realized why immigrants have a different outlook on their past than do people who were born and raised in the same place. When a native looks at their past, they see a time that no longer is, and when they look at their present, they see one tha
These are the meandering thoughts of a smart and competent woman.