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View from my Grandparents Kitchen (Taken by Me)

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My love for California

My Grandparents live right outside of LA. Their position on a hilltop in Pasadena allows for spectacular views over the city. At night, the bright lights of the city look like light pollution in space. It has an almost surreal look to it. Their street is peaceful, with an amicable amount of traffic.

There is always the same smell in the air. It’s hard to describe. The best analogy I can think of is how different seasons have different smells. It is like another variation of this. It always brings back memories of their house and the weather. Looking down the road shows the glimmering city. Looking up shows the jagged and dehydrated mountains. The tan mountains are speckled with desert bushes and harsh cacti. Walking on this hard packed ground  stirs up a fine cloud of dust. East Coast hiking is no fun for me. The constant wetness, bugs and the smell of decomposition. West coast hiking on the other hand? I love it. Drought and heat eliminate the threat of pesky bugs. The jagged and harsh terrain is beautiful in its own respective way. The trails lace the mountains within a mile of my grandparents house.

Their backyard holds some of my earliest memories. It is split up into 3 levels, with the driveway acting as a ramp to all of them. The highest level allows access to the lower level of their house. It is a finished room but not connected to the rest of the house via stairs. My grandpa works there for engineering projects.

The top level is a nice garden with pristine yet stiff grass with a border of colorful pink and yellow flowers. A sprawling wall of emerald ivy keeps the area secluded from any neighbors. I remember pelting a soccer ball against it, shaking loose most of the vegetation. My grandpa loves to storm around on the grass, watering with a hose and raking every single leaf that falls on it. Instead of taking the driveway down to the next level, there is a hidden staircase. These steps lead to a patio and another yard. This specific yard has the garage on the left side and a green ivy wall on the other side.

The final level is the most secluded. It contains 4 beds of vegetables and herbs. This one is the most private. However, my favorite part of their yard is the fruit trees, on the border of the 2nd and 3rd terrace. They grow zesty fruits such as lemons and grapefruit. Whenever we visit, the electric green grapefruit are always bitter and tart. I still eat them though. On the other side of the second terrace they have a massive avocado tree. It blooms every few years covering the driveway in avocados. Or so I have been told. I have not been there in the right season or time to witness this magical event.

However, the best aspect of this house is its proximity to so many things. Some of the most famous, pristine beaches on earth are within an hour drive. Huntington Parks are just a 15 minute drive. One of the most famous and most populated cities on earth is under an hour drive. I guess it is not too dissimilar from us. We live close to perhaps the most famous city on earth. We live on the coast as well. The slight differences in climate and drastic cultural differences make it a more desirable place, at least to me. It is the rarity that I visit that makes the negatives disappear as I get to experience all of the pros to the location as I have limited time there.

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Crew before kayaking to our campsite (Taken by my Dad)

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Deep in the Woods

While being in Upstate New York, I have collected and made many new memories that will last a lifetime. Specifically, On Saranac Lake and Union Falls Pond in the Adirondacks. Both are huge lakes with miles of coastline. Islands pop up in the center along with many interesting rock formations. The wildlife is immaculate. Ranging from wolves to moose, and every critter in between.
One memory that stands out to me involves a bear. Each year, my family goes out to an island on this lake with gear and food to last us a few days. Once kayaking out a few miles, we set up camp. It has become a tradition for my sister and I to both bring up friends. This particular year, I brought up my friend Gabriel. We both had some slight issues focusing on specific tasks growing up. This leads to some catastrophic failure in the future. Anyways, Gabriel and I take the liberty of setting up our own tent. We hammer all the stakes into the ground and it miraculously stays standing up.
The next two days were great, we filled them with swimming in the cool blue water and kayaking out to rock formations to cliff jump. At the end of an exhausting day, we are all huddled around the campfire telling stories.
All of a sudden, our dog, who has come along with us growls aggressively at something down by the water. In response, a thundering, deep rumble from another animal echoes through the woods. Dempsey (nicknamed “The water sausage” by Gabriel) comes sprinting back towards us with his tail tucked and his ears pinned back. A lumbering black bear comes galloping along right by us, straight through our campsite. We all start shouting and screaming to scare the bear away. After 5 minutes or so of this, we stop the yelling but are still rushing with adrenaline. Gabriel and I sharpen sticks with our pocket knives and sleep with them in our tent.
However, the worst was yet to come. Remember the tent we didn’t manage to set up properly? That would soon haunt us. As the clouds blackened and the barometric pressure fell, we all scampered back to our tents. At first, it was hailing. While each pellet of ice sounded like a gunshot from inside of the tent, we stayed dry. And then the rain came. It was as if a bucket of water was dumped from the sky. Visibility was reduced to a mere few yards. Believe it or not, our tent was struggling.
The rain fly sagged in on itself, looking like a piece of wet bread. Water pooled in the center, causing gallons of water to pool, looming over our heads. It came as no surprise when the tent could hold no more. A wall of water came crashing down on our heads, soaking us for the rest of the trip. We sat there stunned for a few moments, as if we had seen a ghost, and then started to pack.
This trip taught me two things. First, to set up a tent properly. Secondly, and most importantly, I learned to be open to new experiences while with friends.

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Boats and boating--Equipment and supplies

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Estadio Olímpico, Rome, Metropolitan City of Rome, Italy

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Estadio Olímpico, Rome, Metropolitan City of Rome, Italy

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The Impact of Sports

Not only are strong memories formed with bad experiences or long periods of time, but they can also come from special moments in someone's life. One core memory that I have happened many years ago, in Rome.

My family has always been wildly enthusiastic about soccer. Due to the fact that both my parents played soccer their whole lives, I have grown up surrounded by everything soccer. From watching the English Premier League every Saturday morning, to going to multiple yale soccer games a year, I have seen a lot of soccer. On top of this, my Dad has always pushed me to play soccer with him in the yard as well as on a club team. It is safe to say that these principles of my life have led to me being an adamant soccer player and enthusiast.

The one other thing my parents value more than soccer is education. While they do prioritize school for education, they have always wanted to teach us about culture by experiencing it first hand. Because of this, we have traveled to many different countries. The most memorable country, in my opinion, is Italy.

The amount and quality of the food, architecture, art, history and other arts founded by the renaissance is mind blowing. Every single brick in the road has a vast amount of history to it.

Now, what better way to build memories than to experience these two at the same time. It happened to be that the Champions League semi-finals overlapped with the time that we were in Rome. The Matchup? Barcelona vs. Roma, the home team. While they were the underdogs by a longshot, the city buzzed with an electric current of excitement leading up to the game.

The total number of people attending this singular event was astronomical. Because of this, public transportation was rendered useless for most. Luckily, the apartment we stayed in was a mere 4 miles away from the stadium. We joined a highway of people, their current pulling us to the stadium doors. The ambient nose shook the ground. Thousands of passionate Italians gesticulating with nothing but pure energy and excitement.

After squeezing into the gates of the stadium, we found our seats. The Oval shaped stadium was filled out, creating an echo chamber of over 70,000 individuals. The Stadium was buzzing with pure, unfiltered excitement. It is impossible to describe the feel of that many people, all having the same experience but it felt like an electric wire was running through each row of the stadium.

Before the start of the game, chanting, jeering and singing was presporsteriously loud. And during it? I honestly don’t remember it vividly as it happened in a blur. All the emotions came pouring out after the final whistle was blown. The final score was 3-0, Roma.

Italians know how to celebrate a win. As soon as we walked out into the street it felt as if the whole city was rejoicing. Even though the hour was late, not a soul was sleeping. People hung out their balconies, belting out songs and waving flags. Cars drove on the wrong side of the road with music blasting out onto the street. Crowds of people celebrating as if they were one.

It was truly one of the most memorable experiences of my life. The combination of two valued cornerstones in my life, with that much energy, forever engraved them into my mind.