I was lucky enough to be a guest on Al Jazeera English’s “The Stream” a few weeks ago, talking about DenizenMag.com.
In Jakarta, Indonesia, there is an obscure-looking bar and art gallery that is quietly inviting. I passed it while on my ojek (Indonesian slang for motorbikes), and after it caught my eye, I turned around and went to check out the place. It’s called the Tree House.
I have been wonderfully spoiled by all the places I have lived. There are little facets in each of the different countries that I wholly adore, and I always wonder if I can find a single place in the world that has all of these benefits.
Why did I feel disconnected from the collective American experience? Why wasn’t I forging stronger ties with my American peers? It wasn’t until I watched “Neither Here Nor There” that I was able to make better sense of this strange quarter-life cultural crisis.
My career as a serial solitary flyer started in my last two years of secondary school, when I went to boarding school in the United Kingdom.
Denizen’s writers recall where they were when the Sept. 11 tragedy happened, and how it changed their lives.
“I’m giving it 10 more minutes. Then these cookies are mine,” I thought to myself. I leaned back in my chair at the student center, desperately resisting the urge to eat the giant plate of cookies I had ordered. I was hoping that, within the next 10 minutes, someone would show up and have some of them.