Another Iced Chai

I don't remember exactly when I discovered iced chai, but it was love at first taste. As a non-coffee-drinker, coffee shops intimidated me, but iced chai drew me in. I loved the sweet, creamy spiciness, and - I'll admit - I loved the cosmopolitan attitude of walking down the street sipping a cool drink from my compostable cup.

I had my first Ann Arbor iced chai last week while studying for exams. The drink made me happy, as did the weather (60 degrees! In Michigan?!) and the friends I was studying with. A good iced chai can always chase away a bad mood or a stressful day. This chai, though, brought with it a flood of memories. In the last four years, I have changed, maybe even grown up, dramatically. And somehow iced chai is linked to every step along the way.

My first iced chai was, I believe, sometime during my first summer teaching BELL. Having just returned from southern Africa, I was having trouble adjusting to life in America, and I wanted to be anywhere except the materialistic, highly-productive machine of urban New England. Accepting the offer to teach at BELL had been a major challenge in and of itself. Most Ivy League incoming-seniors take prestigious, resume-padding research positions or internships. I chose to spend eight weeks camping in the woods, facilitating an experiential learning program for high school students. By the time I arrived at BELL, I was doubting myself, critical of my country, and scared as hell of my impending life after Brown. BELL was a huge boost to my confidence. It didn't take long to realize that I had made the right choice, and that I did deserve the job. I might have been young, but I was passionate and inspired and fully invested in the benefits of experiential learning. That first iced chai signaled renewed confidence in myself and my determination not to let society dictate what was right for me.

I remember my second iced chai with perfect clarity. I was in Providence for a weekend off during the summer and was meeting my twice-ex-boyfriend for a "chat." Not only had he been the love of my life, but he was my best friend, and I was terrified. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lose our friendship, but the cloud of my semester in Africa was obscuring everything I used to feel. I clung to that iced chai like a security blanket, putting up false pretenses of being confident and okay. Upon leaving Starbucks, I realized I hadn't said a thing that I wanted to, hadn't said a word about what I wanted and what I was feeling. I was not proud of that iced chai, but I needed it to open my eyes to who I needed to be.

My next iced chai came months later, at the end of my senior year at Brown. Having survived a "crisis" semester of emotional roller-coasterism, academic stress, and PMDD, I was finally ready to tackle the world on my own. What's more, I was excited! I had wonderful friends going wonderful places after Brown; I was in love with my graduate program; and I was a hard-core running-tennis-pilates enthusiast. My third iced chai took me full-circle, to that same Starbucks, this time with a good friend who convinced me that to the most important people, I was worth the world.

The next iced chai was, again, back at BELL. This time, having moved beyond my own struggles, I was enthusiastic and could not wait to teach environmental science to a new generation of students. I was 110% sure that I was in the right place and 150% sure that I had made the right decision regarding grad school. I had the best summer of my life. BELL never ceases to amaze me for the eagerness of people to connect with each other on a deeper level, to cut the B.S. and get to know each other, what's important to each other, and what's important to the world. True to form, I met incredible people over the summer and found a great friend who immediately made me comfortable and took my thoughts seriously. When that friend remembered my favorite drink and brought me a surprise iced chai from town on a morning off, it signaled to me that I was already making my way in the "real world."

That brings me to my first Ann Arbor iced chai, where I am now 237% convinced that I am at home. I am different- older, hopefully wiser- than I was when I first discovered iced chai. Now every time I taste that cold, creamy tea, I wonder,

"Where will this one take me? What will I remember about this one a few years from now?"