This past summer I spent my time in Panama, a beautiful country that has created an eccentric relationship between nature and urban living. Like many people who travel, I experienced new traditions and in return lost some of my own habits.
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The first time I got drunk and threw up was the first time I was abroad: I was in Prague, and I was 17. I lied and told the people I was with that I had been drunk before, but I hadn’t and I overdid it. I very clearly remember puking, and thinking to myself, “Well, this is stupid.”