Desibri

Music makes me feel alive. I play this playlist when I’m in a really good mood 🙂

March 10, 2020

Blog # 16

Yo bitch has always had swag

March 11, 2020

Blog # 17

Fuck you coronavirus. You ruined my Spring Break.

March 11 2020

Blog #18

This is one my favorite playlists i’ve ever made:

Blog # 19

March 12, 2020

Kylie Jenner in the 1600s

March 12, 2020

Blog # 20

This was my college essay, I’m still very proud of it.

March 22, 2020

Blog # 21

Deep within the mountains of northern Nicaragua, I find myself surrounded on all sides by a green sea of bountiful six-foot tall coffee trees. Towering over me are thick stalks of banana plants topped with giant leaves that provide shade for the coffee. Red and yellow berries cover the thin limbs of the coffee trees from top to bottom, tempting me to pluck one and taste the sweet but bitter honey inside. The contrasting flavors remind me of the adversity which catalyzed me to appreciate the ever-present opportunities for growth and improvement.

This has not been an easy year for coffee farmers. Nicaragua has seen longer periods of drought, combined with bouts of intense flooding and new plant diseases. As I continue my walking tour of the farm, I come across a parcel of coffee plants that are unlike others on the plantation. The plants are wilting, their leaves are yellowing and their branches are bare. To the untrained eye, you would think that these plants need to be replaced, but to me, I see the opportunity to heal and nourish them in time for the next season. My mind begins to churn as I wonder about what has caused this one parcel to behave differently, and how we can make changes to help it flourish. Perhaps we need to check the roots for fungus, or create new channels for water drainage. Could it be that there are too many banana plants for this one parcel, blocking out too much sunlight? This can and will be solved. As I take a deep breath and my lungs fill with crisp mountain air, a sense of calmness washes over me. It is my favorite time of the year; the harvest season.

In the distance, I hear a group of children giggling and playing soccer while waiting for their mothers,the nursery caretakers, to finish work for the day. I rush over to join the game, greet them and ask how school was. A boy answers with the typical Nicaraguan response, “I would much rather be working to help earn money for my mother”. This is a common misconception in my country – there is a lack of value placed on education. I find myself explaining to the child, a lesson my father had often repeated; “nothing that is worth doing is easy”. I suggested that by focusing on the task at hand, his education, his future contribution would prove to be more valuable as he could aspire to achieve financial security and end the cycle of poverty in his family.

Plantations die, infections surface, soils become depleted, and roads are damaged; the list is endless and as such we are always forced to adapt, learn and find new solutions. Actual human life is no different. That is what I was forced to learn when faster than the blink of an eye or beat of a heart my anchor, the person who was everything to me, was no longer by my side. My father has physically left me, but his ideas, values and determination have become eternally present in my life. It was the realization that his work was not in vain that helped me overcome my guilt, sorrow and regret.

A coffee farm is in a continual state of life and death, erosion, and restoration. For the farm, just as in life, one needs to remain determined and continually seek new paths of knowledge. It is with both shame and pride that I say that it took an experience of this magnitude to change me. I am now a more complete and understanding person determined to pursue and accomplish my dreams. I am the coffee parcel that did not wither but established deep and strong roots ready to absorb the nutrients necessary to nourish great harvests in the coming years.