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Money, Geography, Youth

Money, Geography, Youth Alix Ohlin Photo by Arturo Donate fiction Vanessa was home. She repeated the word to herself, tucked into her childhood bed, a twin with a pink comforter that barely covered the reach of her adult body and was somehow all the more comforting for that, hoping that if she whispered it often enough, the place would feel 11 like it was supposed to. In Ghana, she'd slept on a cot in a room with three other volunteers, and when she closed her eyes at night she fantasized about luxuries she'd once taken for granted: a long shower, a sweating bottle of Arizona Green Tea. Every two weeks, when the NGO officer swung by and granted them each fifteen minutes of Internet access on his laptop, instead of answering e-mails she browsed the Instagram accounts of her LA friends, gazing at their bright but bleary faces, their arms around drunk friends at parties in the first year of college they were all enjoying. On her own Facebook she'd quickly post some line about how Africa was changing her life, she felt so grateful and humble, and then she'd log off, hunger unmet. Scrolling back now, she could see that http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Missouri Review University of Missouri

Money, Geography, Youth

The Missouri Review , Volume 39 (4) – Jan 5, 2016

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Publisher
University of Missouri
Copyright
Copyright © The Curators of the University of Missouri.
ISSN
1548-9930
Publisher site
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Abstract

Alix Ohlin Photo by Arturo Donate fiction Vanessa was home. She repeated the word to herself, tucked into her childhood bed, a twin with a pink comforter that barely covered the reach of her adult body and was somehow all the more comforting for that, hoping that if she whispered it often enough, the place would feel 11 like it was supposed to. In Ghana, she'd slept on a cot in a room with three other volunteers, and when she closed her eyes at night she fantasized about luxuries she'd once taken for granted: a long shower, a sweating bottle of Arizona Green Tea. Every two weeks, when the NGO officer swung by and granted them each fifteen minutes of Internet access on his laptop, instead of answering e-mails she browsed the Instagram accounts of her LA friends, gazing at their bright but bleary faces, their arms around drunk friends at parties in the first year of college they were all enjoying. On her own Facebook she'd quickly post some line about how Africa was changing her life, she felt so grateful and humble, and then she'd log off, hunger unmet. Scrolling back now, she could see that

Journal

The Missouri ReviewUniversity of Missouri

Published: Jan 5, 2016

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