Brock { Abroad }

“The Glimpse Correspondents Program is for talented writers and photographers with a passion for storytelling and a knack for finding truly unique stories. The program is open to anyone between the ages of 18 and 36 who will be working, volunteering, or studying outside of their home country for at least 10 weeks.”

Here is a artistic statement written from the prompt:
“Why you are interested in being a Glimpse Correspondent? We also want to know what issues you hope to explore and/or what kinds of cultural adventures you hope to embark on.”

On Pilgrimage:

The ability to craft stories that create a meaningful connection between author, reader, and the snapshot moments spent with people on the path makes up my life. When it comes to using my talents in a passionate way and making a positive impact on the world, storytelling is more than my medium. Storytelling is my passion. There is a Zen belief affirming that upon leaping, a net will appear. This seems a fitting statement for the story. My extremely brief life has been a journey of leaps that led me to Amsterdam. After a long and bitter cold winter squatting with circus performers in Montreal, I became a Knowmad. As a nomadic knowledge worker at The New Business School for the World, my other passion for travel is used on a daily basis.

Joining an international team of young social entrepreneurs working and learning from each other has challenged me to “combine, passion, business, and playful learning,” as our motto states. Studying process design, social innovation and sustainability, new business design, personal leadership, and international project design, Knowmads aims to “educate change-makers.”

I continue exploring my learning journey that has brought me on pilgrimage with purpose. From Santiago to Varanasi, Palestine to Paris, I view life as pilgrimage. I’ve realized now on this journey that the destination never seems to arrive. Taking this approach to heart, I find myself constantly exploring this theme in my writing while listening to the life philosophies and stories of people from all over the world.

When it comes to travel, it’s often the people that make the place. As we continue flowing into an increasingly chaotic world, there’s a certain silence in the stories of people, all over the world. I believe this creates a story in the telling that no other medium can quite replicate. In story, a voice is given to the voiceless. In telling, a much louder sound emerges. This is a sound that holds more power than any army could possibly provide. As a storyteller, I am seeking autonomy from a society that has mastered the art of fear in the unknown through mass-management and hysteria in media and politics.

As I explore myself further through my craft, I also want to explore the broader implications travel has on socio-cultural interactions and innovations. Through bringing people together, there lies a necessity for an authentic cultural understanding. Through story, I attempt to break down the barriers and stigma modern culture and society has been spoon-fed by mainstream media. Through their telling, I hope to close the border between places and their people. I believe this responsibility is the natural step that can break down not just borders within myself, but also the borders within this world.

The ninety two year old and wildly alive owner of Shakespeare & Company, George Whitman, requires a one page autobiography be written by everyone who stays in his library. Below is the one I wrote. George lives in a small apartment above the store. The place is a clutter of books, newspapers and autobiographies written by the 70,000 plus others who came before me.

Hunting is a rite of passage for young men in my town. I was raised on ice fishing and skiing on the border of Canada and a large lake. It was a small town called International Falls with the unofficial expression: “if you don’t know what you’re doing, at least somebody else does.” It was there that I discovered that, although I didn’t pass deer-season weekends at a hunting shack, I was still a hunter. Fortunately, my territory was much closer to home and full of much easier prey.

I served up coffee on the weekends at the only cafe our little town claimed smack dab in the middle of our historic “downtown.” Those long winter days were spent hunting for things I consider superior even to deer. What I hunted for were stories. About people. Who they were and what they were about, and what made them that way. I was fascinated by the history that the quaintly decrepite building held not just in its own stories echoing into the tin ceiling, but also in the stories of the people who had seen it so differently.

My coming of age wasn’t when I killed my first large buck, but rather when I heard a story of the most recent local student who had studied abroad, a completely new concept for me. It had been almost ten years since International Falls had sent a student away. Upon inquiry, I happened to meet the man in charge of the local foreign exchange program who, like the majority of locals, I actually already knew from childhood. However, I never envisioned him as a man who could get me a ticket out of there!

Soon, I was on a plane to Torrevieja, Spain, to experience the Spanish culture that I could only imagine through reading. I felt more a citizen of the world after leaving and was lucky enough to be accepted to a boarding school for the arts to pursue a passion in theatre. It was a relief knowing that I would be returning to a metropolitan environment instead of a town with a ratio of 7,000 hockey sticks to zero theatre. It was there that I discovered storytelling and creating with its elements. I fell in love that year with Shakespeare, Chekhov, and a girl. It was where I discovered sex and we rehearsed it together whenever we could.

Closing that chapter on my life, I determined that there is more to my life than just experiencing the steps that many walk in without any clear direction. I decided to postpone my planned studies in New York. Two weeks from now, I will be on a plane headed to Mumbai, India to help those less fortunate than myself. Above all, I am a hunter. I am a listener, I am a teller. I know there are too many unheard voices in India and the rest of the world. These are voices that must be heard. I want to give a voice to the voiceless.

Whatever this future holds for me, I want to leave it knowing that I made it just a little better than the way I found it. Thank you, George, for doing the same. Thank you for making this world just a little bit better. Thank you for giving me a place to rest my head. Last, but definitely not least, thank you for the opportunity to tell my story.

Keep on hunting.

If there’s anyone still out there who hasn’t completely lost faith in me, hello there. First, I’d like to say I’m sorry. Next, please allow me to explain…

Ironically, this is another post involving the swine flu. I was never actually diagnosed with it last time, so I feel I cannot be to blame for the outbreak that went down here. I never would have imagined that such an ugly thing could have happened in such a beautiful place. Each day, our numbers continued to dwindle…
Read the rest of this entry »

Hello Everyone!

This will be my shortest post ever. It’s almost breakfast time here at American Village, an immersion camp I worked for two summers ago here in France. The sites change constantly, but when I heard I would be going to the stunningly beautiful countryside of Burgundy, I was thrilled. This is my first time in the region and I am highly impressed.
Read the rest of this entry »

I never actually wanted to leave Rotterdam, but I need to get to Brittany, France for work obligations. I have very few obligations these days, but this is one of them. Besides, I could desperately use the money. My preferred method of travel is hitchhiking. Not only does it save money on expensive train fares, but I also consider it a more eco-friendly option as well. In my opinion, travel is not the place, but its people, and hitchhiking is a great way to meet new people and continue learning the language of the country. I move much quicker than my last trip and am in Paris by early evening; without a place to sleep.
Read the rest of this entry »