I once met a man in Marrakech who tore down the walls of religious Prejudice—

spent an evening buying milk for a mother and her children on the streets:the resorts were just in sight, Indonesia—

I met a man in the high Atlas Mountains, he had hiked to the second highest peak of North Africa 300 times, he was 24, his sister was the only person in his village to attend university, he wore clothing donated to him, he did not need a gold medal: he didn’t ask for a tip.

I saw truth written on the walls of Palestine:I saw walls.

I once visited a place in the center of Sri Lanka which housed a mosque, a Catholic church, and a Buddhist temple all within sight of each other, I learned of a Doctor who was sterilizing women without consent— It was about religion: The news never reached the papers

I met a stranger in Colombo who kept his word—

I have learned that less, is more, that, authenticity comes from real people, cultural identity should be protected, held onto, and shared, because in an ever-changing world our traditions bind us and sharing them makes us grow together—

My father was a fisherman, without words he taught me the value of working with your hands—

He taught me the value of education, kindness, humility.

Education is not confined to books; Experience not confined to jobs.

—N.

‍ ‍