<rss version="0.91">
<channel>
<title>Travel Blog | nbell1</title>
<link>http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/nbell1/</link>
<description>Travel adventures in journals and photos from nbell1</description>
<language>en-us</language>
<pubDate>Sun, 27 Jul 2008 00:15:43 BST</pubDate>
<lastBuildDate>Sun, 27 Jul 2008 00:15:43 BST</lastBuildDate><item>
                    <title>Essay for Guideposts</title>
                    <description>Hey allHere is an essay that I just wrote and have yet to revise looking at my experience with Sahaya Mary from a different and for me more powerful perspective.  I know there should be some comments on this one.  Happy summer to all.Hope everyone is doing wellNate			Essay for Guideposts	A couple of times a year often when I'm home from school my mom and I wind up reminiscing about my chi</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Antarctica/Antarctica/Belgrano-II-Station/blog-295746.html</link>
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                    <title>Essay on Soccer in Madurai</title>
                    <description>It was through soccer as usual that I made my first connections in India.  And as usual I had brought a soccer ball with me this time deflated in my stuffed bag.  I pumped it up with the help of a neighborhood bike repairman.  He set up shop in the spotty shade of a scraggy bush next to the main road sitting on a rock until a customer came.  	With a newly full ball in tow I walked through m</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Angola/East/Luena/blog-277331.html</link>
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                    <title>Central Nyack through a Child's Eyes</title>
                    <description>A couple of months ago I showed my mom an essay that I had written for class entitled The White Male Minority.  In it I wrote about standing out as a white person in India.  I then compared this to growing up in one of the few white families in a poor black neighborhood.  	I sat slouched on a soft red reading chair in the back of the library while my mom read the essay on the nearest computer.  I </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-274223.html</link>
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                    <title>Essay about my youth playing baseball</title>
                    <description>There is a little boy with straight hair as blond as the sun bleached sand alone in the center of a small tunnellike backyard.  The faint dusk light sends his shadow arching along the ground behind him.  He bends down to the ground and scoops up a muddy gray baseball with the oversized glove his father gave him for Christmas.  He stands slowly tiredly and faces the black trampoline pitchback.</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-273869.html</link>
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                    <title>Short story</title>
                    <description>A pale light seeped into the cramped bedroom from under the door.  There was just enough light for John to see Patricia's pale drawn face if he were to have looked.  But John didn't look.	John stood stiffly in the middle of the room hands on the back of his desk chair staring out the window into the blackness.  What are we going to do now he asked.	After a moment Patricia nearly hidden be</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Antarctica/Antarctica/Amundsen-Scott-South-Pole-Station/blog-271271.html</link>
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                    <title>Short Story</title>
                    <description>I sat on the old stone wall that jutted out from the changing room and watched the tall guy lifeguard with hair that was longer in the front than in the back scoop leaves out of the tranquil pool.  Over to the right past the chain linked fence and cart path beyond the swaying rushes was the Hudson River.  From my vantage point I could even see a tiny section of the Tappan Zee Bridge through the</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-264567.html</link>
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                    <title>NY Times Modern Love college Essay competition</title>
                    <description>		This is a Love Marriage not an Arranged Marriage	I spent my junior year abroad in the Indian city of Madurai located in the southern state of Tamil Nadu.  Whereas in America my dirty blond hair and unspectacular looks often made me feel unseen in India I stood out.  Every time I walked down a crowded road children and adults alike would stop and stare.  I was an outsider no matter how much I</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Antarctica/Antarctica/Amundsen-Scott-South-Pole-Station/blog-261642.html</link>
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                    <title>Story for fiction</title>
                    <description>	Empty TruthBut I'm still interested in sex Raj replied averting his eyes.	Sex is submitting to your desiresrdquo Adam told him.  At some point you are going to have to decide whether you want to be governed by your desires or whether you are going to overcome them.  Adam spoke slowly and severely as if analyzing his words while still in the thought process for any negative influences.</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/New-York/Finger-Lakes/blog-251027.html</link>
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                    <title>Essay on Nyack language</title>
                    <description>	ldquoYou start out every sentence with lsquoyorsquordquo Jane said half joking half appalled.  ldquoI donrsquot know how you expect anyone to take you seriously.rdquo  ldquoI donrsquot know itrsquos naturalrdquo I defended.  ldquoItrsquos not like this is a classroom or anything.rdquo	Jane and I were lying in the grass outside of a towering cement building on the c</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-250371.html</link>
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                    <title>Some little memories for personal essay</title>
                    <description>If you do not suffer now you will suffer the rest of your life David hissed in my ear as I bent painfully backwards as far as my body would allow.  David the Bikram yoga instructor had been transformed the second we entered into the one hundred and twenty degree room.  Outside he had been shy and unassuming and with just about as much presence as pounds on his body.  There seemed to be very </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Antarctica/Antarctica/blog-244992.html</link>
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                    <title>Short story I wrote over break</title>
                    <description>A Worthy Sacrifice	Fuck you and your fucking God damned religion the man now fully through the gaping front door screamed.  Behind the anger barely noticeable he stifled a sob.  He grabbed the door handle and transferring his rage slammed the door.  The warm yellow light from inside evaporated.  Howls from worried neighborhood dogs rose instantly disrupting the deep summer night stillnes</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-238712.html</link>
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                    <title>Elevators</title>
                    <description>This is an essay about elevators.  I feel like we all get kind of uneasy in them.  Here I explore why.  What do you think  All critque is not only weclomes but solicited.	You enter the hotel lobby.  Set into the back wall the grey doors of an elevator sit solemnly.  Four people stand facing the doors as if looking at an altar.  You walk up to them.  Upon hearing your advancing footsteps a dark </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-230810.html</link>
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                    <title>Two Poems</title>
                    <description>				Worlds ApartWorlds apart.Here I am.There you are. Can never be.  I cry every night because you will leaveDon't open this package until I'm goneMom my heart and my mind are completely at oddsNate I trust you Your heart and your mind are completely at oddsWhat do I doOpen your heart ShakraI knew you were coming back today I knew you were coming around the corner just thenNat</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/blog-225114.html</link>
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                    <title>Personal Essaystory of Gokarna</title>
                    <description>HeyHere is a personal essaystory that I wrote last eyar and have since doctored up.  But... I need help on it.  I dont think it flows well and I think this is largely because when I first wrote the story I solely intended to tell the story of Raja.  December was my ldquowinter breakrdquo a time to get away from Madurai to be a normal tourist to blend in.  Five months of living in Madurai</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-219913.html</link>
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                    <title>Musings and an Essay on Grades</title>
                    <description>Top of the morning to you  Im enjoying having a blog again and feeling like I can have some sort of connection with people who matter in my life.  Firstly emiliano sent me a really fantastic essay by Orhan Pamuk it was actually an acceptance speech for the nobel prize that Id like to sent on.  the link is...httpnobelprize.orgnobelprizesliteraturelaureates2006pamuklectureen.htmlI add</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Algeria/South/Tamanrasset/blog-217670.html</link>
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                    <title>It s a lovely November feels like late august which is kind of scary day here</title>
                    <description>Hey.  I was reading The Atlantic and they had an ad for the Templeton foundation.  They caught you by putting the first half of numerous essays regarding whether the universe has a purpose.  They are quite good.  The link is httpwww.templeton.orgquestionspurpose.  If it just goes straight to templeton.org the first time add the purpose after that.  Here is something else    There I was</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Afghanistan/East/Bamyian/blog-216350.html</link>
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                    <title>Alley Flash fiction</title>
                    <description>So here is the blog of my writing... continuing from the other blog of my writing... hope you get itAs soon as I entered the shadowy narrow alley I heard his footsteps.  They were distinct.  Their sound overpowered the light dripdrip of droplets crashing from second floor fire escape into murky puddles.  It could be heard even among the domestically abused screams coming from an open window in </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Oceania/Australia/New-South-Wales/Bateau-Bay/blog-215547.html</link>
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                    <title>Next Chapter</title>
                    <description>Next chapter on communityCommunityI have heard the claim that all of the six billion plus people on this planet are connected by a mere six degrees.  Valid or not I think it is fair to say that in the present age we are closer to people from all over the globe than ever before.  This metaphorical shrinking of the world has now made the creation of a global community possible and has changed t</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Angola/North/Luanda/blog-143029.html</link>
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                    <title>Security Part</title>
                    <description>This is the promised rough draft of the security part... its a little long...but... idlike to thinkworth readingSecurityWhile clich mortality is truly the single most pervasive factor in all of our lives.  Every living thing from the one celled amoeba to the greatest of all animals the human is going to perish and in the grand scheme of things perish soon.  This fact however does nothing </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/North-America/United-States/blog-140238.html</link>
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                    <title>Hi</title>
                    <description>So... here I am... chillin as usual.  Whats new  Really not that much.  Im at an interesting juncture in time.  At this point India is no longer the focus of my time.  Well it is because im still living there but the emphasis is this project that I have to do.  I've met most of the people I expect to meet and have come to conclusion that it is going to be impossible for me to retain tamil coul</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/India/Tamil-Nadu/Madurai/blog-135484.html</link>
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