A handful of firsts and laying out the ground rules.

I'm going with a handful, because it does not fall into the ambiguous linguistic connotations [redundant] of "several" and "a few" which took up an entire summer's night at a shindig in Maryland. But to not inadvertently diss on linguists' parties, I will say this: a lot of dancing was also had.

A handful: a quantitative measure you can cup in your hands and pick with your booger fingers.

Left to right: berries; world's smallest postal service letters; Rupert (photo by Jeff Moore).
[Rupert kinda ruins it but he is KAWAiii!]

A handful also suggests this post should not take long, but given that I like to have many rambling sides with my main dish, it will probably hiccup and vomit all over the Golden Rule of brevity. Speaking of:

Rules.

The First Rule is I will not punctuate inside quotation marks, as inspired by this Slate post, but I will probably break this rule many times here so it should not be taken as a categorical statement-- it will satisfactorily serve as a reminder for those afflicted with grammaritis.

The Second Rule is I will try to actually write in this blog, and as the first rule goes, alas... I am not a strict enforcer and misery needs company. But this is also the kind of rule that is best enforced with much public shaming and pressure, which is where you, the readers, come in. Throw that first stone and break my glass garden. Do it!

The Third Rule is, despite the unrestrained excitement that I had to share at the top of this page, this will not be a blog on Tanzania. Certainly, that's where I will be in the summer, and if that is my only direction in my writing I might as well call it "Western/Eastern/South-American girl in Africa" or "Heart of Darkness". But that sounds like it will end in tragedy and foreshadows a moral lesson I have yet to learn, or perhaps one we all happen to learn once we step outside that comfort zone.

Being the lousy Skyper that I am, the intent behind the blog is to keep my family aware of my continuing, healthy, hexad-immunized existence and to let my friends laugh along at my travels and misadventures. Travels are a rather solitary experience when it comes down to it-- you return to a place you feel has not changed and find it hard to communicate or explain what it is exactly that was so different, and through that difference and newness, what it is that has invariably changed inside of you.

I suppose that is the internal motivating factor and final rule: to communicate. To be able to share and lighten that solitary load the Is of the world like to hoard. And why wouldn't we? Millions have traveled farther, higher, and better. There's nothing to brag about and no need for competition. This is just one summer, but it happens to be an extra exciting one for me, doing interesting work with the "international" prefix and stepping into a brand new landmass and into a city in a far away country.