We are definitely not in Aruba anymore. Or in Sweden, with it’s abundance of good friends with guest bedrooms and plush pillows. Or even at the Radisson in Riga where we complained about the poor breakfast spread this morning. We are in Gaujiena, a small village in the northeastern part of Latvia, spending the night at a local orphanage. The paint is coming off the wall next to me and there is a hole behind the heater that I’m pretty sure goes straight through the side of the building. I just brushed my teeth with water I know I shouldn’t ingest, and skipped taking a shower because there is no hot water and it’s cold outside and frankly, I don’t want to know what the inside of the showers look like. Solvita, our friend and Latvian guide, gives me a look as I stand in the corner of the room, pondering whether or not I should make my bed with the stained sheets I’m holding or simply sleep in all of my clothes on top of the covers. She asks “How long has it been since you last slept in a place like this?” and I can’t lie. “It’s been a long, long time”. I decide to make my bed and as I fasten the bottom sheet I see words stamped in green on the corner of the fabric. "TILLHÖR LANDSTINGEN I SKARABORG OCH ÄLVSBORG" it reads. "Belongs to municipality of Skaraborg and Älvsborg". I'm sleeping in sheets donated from a Swedish hospital. Or a hospice, perhaps. The yellow stains on them may well be from my home country. I climb in and as I do, a young girl comes into the room. She is using a walker to make her way forward because her legs don't work and she never got the care her medical condition requires. She has no parents, no family, and for the past five years this has been her only home. She is wearing my shirt, a cropped tank top with the word CALIFORNIA written across the chest. I bought it in Venice on vacation a few years ago but never used it once. She asks if she can see a picture of my house. "You live there? With your family?" Yes. Yes. She fiddles with my bracelets so I give her one and then she hugs me and grabs her walker to go to bed. I lie down between my stained Swedish sheets and wonder, when did I forget what life on this earth is really like?

yoga_girlさん(@yoga_girl)が投稿した動画 -

レイチェル・ブレイセンのインスタグラム(yoga_girl) - 8月21日 06時45分


We are definitely not in Aruba anymore. Or in Sweden, with it’s abundance of good friends with guest bedrooms and plush pillows. Or even at the Radisson in Riga where we complained about the poor breakfast spread this morning. We are in Gaujiena, a small village in the northeastern part of Latvia, spending the night at a local orphanage.

The paint is coming off the wall next to me and there is a hole behind the heater that I’m pretty sure goes straight through the side of the building. I just brushed my teeth with water I know I shouldn’t ingest, and skipped taking a shower because there is no hot water and it’s cold outside and frankly, I don’t want to know what the inside of the showers look like. Solvita, our friend and Latvian guide, gives me a look as I stand in the corner of the room, pondering whether or not I should make my bed with the stained sheets I’m holding or simply sleep in all of my clothes on top of the covers. She asks “How long has it been since you last slept in a place like this?” and I can’t lie. “It’s been a long, long time”. I decide to make my bed and as I fasten the bottom sheet I see words stamped in green on the corner of the fabric. "TILLHÖR LANDSTINGEN I SKARABORG OCH ÄLVSBORG" it reads. "Belongs to municipality of Skaraborg and Älvsborg". I'm sleeping in sheets donated from a Swedish hospital. Or a hospice, perhaps. The yellow stains on them may well be from my home country.
I climb in and as I do, a young girl comes into the room. She is using a walker to make her way forward because her legs don't work and she never got the care her medical condition requires. She has no parents, no family, and for the past five years this has been her only home. She is wearing my shirt, a cropped tank top with the word CALIFORNIA written across the chest. I bought it in Venice on vacation a few years ago but never used it once. She asks if she can see a picture of my house. "You live there? With your family?" Yes. Yes. She fiddles with my bracelets so I give her one and then she hugs me and grabs her walker to go to bed.
I lie down between my stained Swedish sheets and wonder,
when did I forget what life on this earth is really like?


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