The Urubamba weekly market bustles with life in front of me. Women amble past-- holding babies wrapped in bright, colorful mantas on their backs while also toting heavy bags of corn or potatoes. Men driving mototaxies down the narrow, well-swept streets use their horns to indicate their approach and I watch as the steady stream of people calmly and casually part, allowing just enough space for the moto to pass. Children scamper past me on mud-stained bare feet, giggling and playing in their brightly colored clothing.  Their wind-and-sun-burned cheeks glow a rosy-red and their laughs fill the space between us. Piles of produce line the street and people are busy buying, selling, and exchanging goods. Some things I recognize--potatoes (but only a few of the 4,ooo varieties they grow in Peru!), corn, garlic, cabbage--but some things are foreign to my curious eyes. Most locals are unphased by my presence, others are amused or equally curious. They smile, laugh, wave me closer. With my wide-angle view, it's clear to see that I'm far from home. It's easy to spot the differences--to feel,...foreign. But, when I slow down, sit, and zoom in, I'm reminded of the humanness that connects us--the minuscule details that defy culture, language, and location. For a few moments I allow myself to get lost in these details. I stroll back through the Plaza de Armas and notice a boy kicking around the futbol. I motion for him to pass it to my feet--which he does without hesitation. We continue to play, allowing the common language to unite us. The universal language of soccer has allowed me to communicate in so many different countries and Peru proves to be no different. As I say goodbye to my new soccer friend, I notice a funeral procession moving towards the church. All attendees are dressed in black and they take turns adorning the casket with beautiful flowers. Musicians lead the way and all have an aura of utmost respect. The pain and feeling of loss is evident in those present. I take a moment of silence and am again reminded of the humanness that connects us. Back in the Plaza, a small child, uneasy on his feet, waddles back and forth in chase of a pigeon. As I watch his out-stretched arms zig-zag around the plaza in sheer determination, I feel myself giggling from the inside out. His dad and I are able to communicate through our shared amusement. Slowly, I'm forgetting where I am. Am failing to see the differences or feel the foreignness.  Language and cultural barriers are temporarily set aside because, as it turns out, I speak the language of futbol, and funerals (grieving), and children. I love these moments. Time and time again I find that when I slow down, look closely, and open my heart, I notice that the differences that make all these countries, cultures, languages, and people unique, are made even more beautiful by the small things that connect and unite us. I revel in these small things and love the however-brief feeling of interconnected-ness.

Majestic Macaws

I got my first "official" job when I was 16. It was at this job, in a pet shop, that I first fell in love with macaws. Copa taught me to read his moods, his body language, and his sounds. I learned exactly how and when I could hold his beak and pull him in close for a kiss. I also learned when to keep my distance. I never lost sight of how powerful his beak could be. I learned to laugh at his harsh words ('shut up' was his favorite) and giggled along with him when his perfect imitation of a "meow" or "ruf-ruf" left customers baffled after their fruitless search for the dog or cat. B.G. taught me patience and trust. I spent hours with him, slowly gaining his trust and learning to trust him in return. Again, never losing sight of just how powerful that beak could be. Slowly, but surely, he began to move closer to me during each interaction. Eventually, he would bend his head down and ruffle his feathers slightly, indicating to me that it was safe to scratch the top of his head. And, finally, in one of our parting moments before I left for college, he climbed gently onto my arm and perched there comfortably. I moved him closer to me until his beak gently grasped the collar of my shirt and he tucked his head under my chin as I scratched and kissed his ruffled-feathered head. In those teenage pet shop moments, I never stopped to think about how those beautiful birds got there. Never stopped to think about where they came from. Clipped wings, filed beaks and trimmed claws just seemed necessary. Normal. It was what I knew and I was so thankful for the experience those birds, that shop, gave me. 16 years later, as I sat perched atop a canopy tower in the Peruvian Rainforest, I learned to love these majestic birds in a whole new way. I never once saw Copa or B.G. fly. Never experienced the contrast of their colorful wings against the green trees. Never witnessed the strength in a single wing flap or got a sense of just how huge they were. It was here that I learned about their monogamy and witnessed them flying or sitting in pairs. Always. It was here that I learned that, if their mate was captured or killed, they would never find another. Never reproduce. Never recover. I learned the purpose of that white, salty stone that always hung in bird cages and witnessed the magical site of dozens of parrots and macaws converging on a natural clay lick to satisfy those salty needs. My recent experience in the rainforest doesn't change my experiences in that pet shop. It doesn't make me regret the bond I formed with Copa and B.G. and it has not turned me into a pet bird-owner hater. It just opens my eyes. It reignites my love of animals and nature and allows me to appreciate just how vast and valuable and beautifully fragile it is. It gives me a whole new lens in which I can use to view a sliver of my world, our world. And for that, I am grateful.

As a foreigner...

Things I have learned as a foreigner in my own country.
**These are strictly my personal--and yes, limited, experiences as I work to repatriate myself...

• When asked if you can borrow their phone, 100% of strangers will say yes.
• When you hold the door for someone, 100% of people will make eye contact and thank you. 
• There is no substitute for family and a strong sense of community---and both of those things are everywhere if you just open your eyes. 
• When greeted with a smile, 100% of people will return the gesture. 
• 50% of strangers don't know where Bangkok is. 
• The security lines at airports are ridiculously long and seemingly inefficient. 
• There are a frightening number of obese children.
• Despite being the fattest nation in the world, summer in the North brings out the activity in people--and it's contagious. 
• People put more value in a dog-shit-free lawn then in a plastic-free Earth.
• The staff at the LIRR are generally unhelpful. 
• There is an under-usage of fans and an over-usage of air conditioning. 
• Many people have a garden, compost, recycle, and/or use re-usable bags. 
• There are a frightening number of parents who don't know the first thing about discipline.
• There seem to be jobs. 
• Water fountains are amazing. Tap water is amazing. People take both for granted regularly. 
• 80% of strangers don't know what language is spoken in Thailand. 
• Everything is big--people, houses, boats, cars, roads.
• Just because you might look the same, doesn't mean you're immune to feeling like a foreigner. 
• There are WAY too many TV channels. 

*This list is not yet exhausted as the road to adjusting back is far from over...

New Zealand, you've done it again!

Step 1: Drop a self-proclaimed "country girl" (shut up, Keri) into one of the biggest cities in the world.
Step 2: Watch as she flourishes in the newness of it all...and then, four years later, watch her squirm in the absence of nature, fresh air and space.
Step 3: Stand back as she takes a much anticipated trip to revisit New Zealand.
Step 4: Read as she dramatically squeals (and writes) in delight!

I sit with a childish grin plastered to my face. Snow-capped mountains to the right, green plains to the left--and, an overwhelming "ahhh" feeling of returning to a place I love. I haven't even stepped out of the plane and my heart is racing--almost as if it knows it has finally been reconnected with a few lost pieces that were left behind six years before.

Days later, as I drive along SH1 from Christchurch to Picton, my heart pounds with excitement. Although the pre-dawn darkness prevents me from seeing the beauty around me, something inside of me feels in. As the deep blue, morning sky slowly lightens, its as if layers of scenery are being slowly revealed as I drive--each turn seemingly more beautiful than the last. Even this must-have-music-blasting-while-driving girl reaches for the dial--this kind of nature demands silence and I have no problem obliging.

The green, sheep-covered hills suddenly roll into the rocks of the Kaikora coast. With the mountains on my left shoulder and the waves crashing on my right, I again laugh to myself. "Seriously?!?! Is this place real?!" As I drive, the rocks along the coast come to life with the movement of the seal colonies. I pull to the side just to take it all in for a while. I still haven't stopped grinning. Part of me feared returning here---afraid, perhaps, to discover that my memory had exaggerated the scenery. I didn't want the return trip to remove NZ from it's pedestal! But, there was no such exaggeration. This place really is THAT amazing! No picture or writing could do it justice. It must be seen and felt---and, it's freakin' good to be back!!!

Freedom with Height

Eyes to the sky, I sit transfixed. Up there, in the dusk-kissed sky, is a another world. A world with it's own rules, it's own freedoms, it's own Masters. Tonight, the Master of the Sky is that one. The one that is flying high above the rest, the one that has been moving, successfully in, for the kill-- all evening. The nose dips, a tiny dip, indicating to me, the virgin observer, that it's time again. The body follows suit and dives in a motion so fast and deliberate it causes my body to stiffen with anticipation, I watch, eyes adjusting against the glare of the setting sun. The world up there goes still for a moment, and I wonder how many pairs of eyes are watching in anticipation along with me. Then, the attacked goes limp, a falling leaf from meters above. The Master quickly moves away, gaining freedom with height, and somewhere in this maze of rooftops, I'm sure he smiles.

The kite fighting that ruled the skies of India never failed to captivate me. I was so fascinated by it all that Fern often had to remind me to bring my eyes back down to earth---back to the happenings on the street in front of me. Because, if I learned anything from India, it was that if you take your eyes off the road, you are bound to be run over by a car, a goat, a cow, a rickshaw, a person, a bike---and in the chance you were lucky to avoid those, surely the pile of excrement was bound to get you every time. India. Wow, India. There aren't many places that can make Bangkok seem quiet, organized, and clean--but India has done it. And India has done it well! Although our 2 week Indian adventure ultimately lacked the nature and fresh air that Fern and I were, have been, craving, it didn't stop me from falling in love with so many aspects of a country gone mad. As much as we would have liked there to be, there was, in reality, never a dull moment. My senses were in overdrive---the colors of the spices, the saris, the buildings; the delicious food smells and (of course) the less delicious smells of all those other things; the traffic sounds that never seemed to fade; the taste of some of the best food I have ever tasted (yes, of course it was street food and no, that's not an exaggeration). Many people have asked for my favourite city or favourite part of the trip--and, I hesitate every time. It's usually always a collective effort-- a build up of all the little, seemingly insignificant things that seem to latch on to my memories: the separate trains for the woman, the normalcy of declaring that "yes, we have husbands", the head wobble, the random animals on the road, the outdoor 'bathrooms', the yellow taxis that would belong on the set of a 1950's movie, the 5 cups of daily chai (served in clay pots), eating with my hands (and loving every second of it---sorry Ma), the traffic "laws", the trams, trains, and buses, the colonial buildings, the friendliness of the locals as soon as you leave the tourist trail behind, the school buses (modified rickshaws), the happenings on the street, and the markets. But, for those that insist, I'd have to say that seeing a rainbow besides the Taj Mahal on the first day of 2012 wasn't too shabby....! ;)

Fresh air will be coming in the form of a beach getaway this weekend followed by a long-awaited return trip to New Zealand this summer. (But, not before Big Bro and Cimock get a taste for this wonderful little place called Thailand. That's right folks---Big Bro has got tickets to Asia. Who would have thought?!)

Oh, Bangkok!

Six hours and a world away from the current struggles of Bangkok, I allow the beach life to consume me. Just hours before, I was amongst the water, the people, the loss—the reality that has engulfed so many Thai lives—so many Bangkokians. I felt connected in those moments—connected to the severity of the loss and destruction, and connected to the depth of the Thai spirit. That unwavering “mai pen rai” that guides them to smile, to laugh, to remain calm in the face of danger, sadness, and destruction. Just hours before, I was going to it. going to the flood, to the sandhills, to the shelters—and, as I boarded the Laem Ngop bound bus, I couldn’t fight the feeling that I was now running from it. Running from the city that I call home, running from Gat, my neighbor who, only days before, had assured me “mai dong glooa—don’t be scared, I’ll make you food and paddle it over in a boat if the floods come.” Running from the people that have become a part of my everyday life. But, as the uncertainties in Bangkok grew with each long day, I knew that, for my own sanity, I had to get away. Partly because my one week holiday had unexpectantly been extended by two weeks after a Ministry of Education emergency meeting, partly because I knew my family wouldn’t have peace of mind with me living amongst the chaos that Bangkok has, once again, become, and, partly because my own selfishness didn’t want to have another sleepless night of waiting. Waiting for whatever it was that was going to happen. Waiting to see if my small flood supply of food and water would prove me over prepared or under prepared. Waiting to see if the sandbag walls would hold. Just…Waiting.

Far from Bangkok, far from the empty grocery shelves, the lagging water supply, far from the fear of having even another drop of rain and far from the news that most people in Bangkok have allowed to run their lives, the serenity has finally started to calm my worried mind and heavy heart. I’ve allowed myself to tune out a little, knowing that there isn’t much I can do from here and knowing that a bit of serenity can go a long way. I’ve already fallen into a great beach life routine and, the (very) basic hut that I was hesitant to go into on the first night, has become a bit of a haven for me. It’s the simple life that always takes a little getting used to but, once in place, fuels something in me that I can’t quite explain. I love waking with the sun, sweeping my hut and hand washing my pillowcase (this makes the very basic hut smell a little less so when I lay my head down at night!) before taking off on an early morning swim. Like clockwork, Arisa, the little Cambodian baby that I have come to love already (shocking!), greets me right after my swim and just before her morning feeding. I get lots of smiles and cuddles while mom finishes some chores around the huts. The morning passes peacefully with lots of reading, reflecting, meditating, and writing---all with the sound of the waves in my ear. By the time midday arrives, I join my friends, who are staying less than 20 paces up the beach, and I get lost in their company for the rest of the day and night. It’s all a bit perfect, really—and offers a sharp contradiction to the way things are in Bangkok. Things are far from perfect there, and, although I have allowed myself a bit of peace and serenity here, a big part of my heart is still there. Fighting with them, hoping with them, urging them to hold on. This too shall pass and when it does, I know this country will pull together to pick up the broken pieces that remain after the waters have swept away too much.

Bits and Bobs from 117

The latest memo in my school mailbox reminds me that 1st quarter grades are due soon. What?! Seriously?! I'm not entirely sure where those 9 weeks have gone but, roughly half must have been lost in transition and the other half must have been lost in the passion of teaching. Being lost in transition wasn't easy. Many argue that it never is, but, I wanted to think that I was becoming a seasoned professional at transitioning, changing, relocating. Man was I wrong! This change hit me harder than most. I missed a lot of things about my old job, my old kids, my old school and, after only a few days, I thought I had, once again, checked another "possible life passion" off the list. But then, without warning, things snapped back into place and I again found myself passionate about teaching, passionate about life---and, it feels great to be back!

The last few weeks in room 117 have been fantastic. We sing, we dance, we cry, we laugh, we explore, we ask, and we seek to answer....we are becoming a great little family. Having only 10 students means lots of time and space for hands on activities. But, perhaps it's best hearing it...
From the 1st graders!!

Miss J always tells us "fun but not crazy" but I think sometimes she forgets. Especially during "Monday Dance"---she let's us all go a bit crazy then. Even she does the "Monday dance" with us and she sure looks crazy! Her memory is really bad so she always asks us to remind her of things. What would she do without us? We have to remind her to change the jobs list everyday. We have to remind her how to add and subtract and sometimes she even forgets that when you write names or special nouns, you have to use a capital letter. And she's always forgetting to use punctuation when she writes sentences! Who's the teacher here anyways? Crazy Miss J.

We love looking at our tadpoles! One person gets to help Miss J feed them everyday. "LOOK AT THAT ONE! That one has front legs!! Miss J! Miss J! Look at that one! He looks like a frog already!!" We learned about the life cycle of frogs in Science class and then we learned how to take care of our tadpoles by using Google. Did you know that if we don't feed our tadpoles, they will EAT EACH OTHER?!?! We really love Science class! Oh! And, on Thursday, we're going to the Zoo!! We are going on a mammal/reptile/amphibian/insect/fish hunt!

Our Special Country for International Culture Day is New Zealand. Miss J used to live there and "I FOUND IT, IT"S HERE!!! Look...I found it on the globe!! Miss J, Looook. It's here!". Now we have so many stickers on our world map and globe!! America, Philippines, Japan, South Korea, India, Thailand and now, NEW ZEALAND! And tomorrow we are reading a story about the Arctic and Miss J said we have to find out where the Arctic is for homework. I think the Arctic is in Miss J's home.

Did you read our story?! We wrote a story! First, we had to Brainstorm and think about what we wanted to write about. We did a vote---and decided to write about the Ballroom! We brainstormed some more and made a Sloppy Copy of it and tried to make it better and Make It Shine! Then we Fixed It by adding capital letters and punctuation. We wrote it again in good handwriting and drew pictures to go with it. Then, we signed our name and Miss J published it! We get to take turns taking it home and reading it with our parents. I think my page is the best!! You should read it because we wrote it ourselves and it's really good!!

1st grade isn't always fun though. We have to work hard and sometimes we get so tired of thinking and writing. Miss J says "do your best work", even when we are writing on the board or drawing a picture. Sometimes people do it better then us, but if it's our best, it's okay. When we don't do our best work, or when we aren't listening or doing the "right thing", it means we don't earn time to play in the ballroom. In Kindergarten, we always got to play in the ballroom but Miss J says now that we are older, we have to earn it. I think that we should go to the ballroom everyday!! We also have lots of homework to take home in our F.R.O.G.S folders everyday. Our folders help us have re (clap) spons (clap) i (clap) bil (clap) i (clap) ty (clap). We are getting better at that. We are getting better at lots of things. And Miss J says we help her get better at things too. So, maybe it's good that we are all together in first grade!


post shaving-cream-writing (thanks for all that shaving cream Jose!)


checking out the tadpoles


buddy reading

on the path to becoming great little presenters!

Good Morning Vietnam

I never knew that "drink locally brewed, 25 cent beer on busy Hanoi street" should be on the bucket list but, alas, it should have had a prime spot near the top!! Vietnam was never high on my list, mostly because I never heard too many positive things about it and, for whatever reason, I actually listened to the ramblings I heard. But, a random, would-be-perfect-timing rendezvous with one Sarah F (the same Sarah F that makes many appearances in my blog if you've actually been following since that blissful, start-of-it-all trip to New Zealand)! Yes, finally...after nearly 5 years, I'd be reunited with my old New Zealand friend and flatmate...and the person who helped me grow the cojones to make the jump into SE Asia in the first place (she used to teach English in Vietnam and encouraged me to look in to it). So, as luck would have it, I flung myself into this "not high on my list" neighboring country with no expectations, no worries, and no real 'must see's/must do's' other then to just intercept Sarah and her folks along their 3 week SE Asia adventure. Perhaps it was this--the lack of expectations, the lack of pressure (to see and do it all) that would give this place a speed ticket through the MUST RETURN line!
When a street crossing can make a Bangkokian (yeah, I've claimed it, what of it...?!) hesitate and stare in awe, you know it must be crazy! Even after living in Bangkok for 3+ years, it took me a while to perfect Sarah's confident "just stick out your hand" stride across the intersection---which, just for kicks and comic relief, actually had a pedestrian crossing lane. Ha. After some time drinking the local brew roadside, and, after I insisted on crossing the road 10 more times just for kicks (sorry Ma!), the 4 of us jumped a Halong Bay bound bus and briefly said goodbye to the city noise. Watching the world pass from bus windows in these foreign countries always seems to amaze or inspire me...and Vietnam, certainly, was no exception. I felt myself comparing it a lot to the other countries I've been to in SE Asia but, it became more and more difficult to do.... Same Same but SO different! As the landscape unfolds, it immediately makes me question the fact that Thailand is the top exporter of rice! The paddies here stretch as far as the eye can see, (Jose, even you wouldn't miss these rice fields!) and are littered with dozens and dozens of workers in their nón lá (coolie hats!). The site is amazingly beautiful and during the 3.5 hour journey, I never tired of staring out the window. A million rice fields, a few hilarious bumps, an entertaining eavesdrop on a lifestory, and an amazing phone conversation later, we arrived at Halong Bay where our Junk (Wikipedia folks) awaited. It took only moments to fall in love! Limestone cliffs were jetting out of the water in all directions, the junk was cute and clean, all the bedrooms had windows (Hells no will we be trapped if our boat tries to sink in the middle of the night!) and the weather was looking amazing! After lunch on board, we climbed to the deck and soaked in the rays as we cruised along...perfection. After a great sunset, it took no convincing at all to get the recently showered and changed crew (Sarah and her folks) back into togs (I speak Kiwi very well...!) so we could jump off the roof into the water. I love this bunch!! Before long, most of the boat was jumping, screaming (not me of course...), laughing, swimming. It was one of those trips where the crowd on your boat can make or break the trip---and, our crowd made it! Good work crowd :).


Back in Hanoi, I chipped away another piece of my historical ignorance as we visited some key places linked to the Vietnam War. The Hoa Lo Prison, often referred to as the Hanoi Hilton, was a good start and it was interesting to get a different perspective on some of the War details. We also visited the lake where John McCain's plane was shot down and he was captured as a PoW as well as the "B-52 Lake" where you can see the remains of a B-52 that was shot down in 1972. Staring at the remains while having Bruce (Sarah's dad) explain some amazing details to me was an awesome history lesson---and it made me wish that my history teachers would have actually TRIED to get my attention---b/c, clearly, I would have been captivated! Or maybe the Bruce, staring at B-52 combo, was just that awesome!
All in all, an amazing trip. A great country. Great company. And a complete feeling of comfort because Sarah and her folks (and Sarah's friends) had all lived in or been to Hanoi previously . I didn't have to worry about directions or language barriers or wonder if I was getting ripped off! It took away any possible headache and just left me able to completely enjoy myself! It made me realize that if you know someone living in a foreign country which you may not have otherwise paid a visit to, you should go and take advantage of them being there. I'm just sayin, Ryan,...I speak Thai. I speak Thai real well. ;)

Cashmere...In Loving Memory...

What is it about our pets that totally transforms the way we go at life? What is it about their companionship that makes it impossible to compare to anything else? Why is it that you either get it or you don't?! For what it's worth, I get it. I totally do.

I got my first cat when I was 9 years old and I can honestly say that it changed my life from day one. Days filled with cat hair, vet visits, litterbox cleanups, and pre-dawn wake-ups rained down on me (and my parents/brother) and helped mold that 9-year-old-me. My cat, affectionately known as cashmere, cashee, pumpkin face, brat, angel, and sweet face, has seen me through more of my life than most others. We have, quite literally, grown up together. I "put up" with her kitten stage---the constant crying (read: meowing), playfulness and, of course, mischievousness---and, in turn, she put up with my adolescence---meaning, mostly, that she had to endure dress-up, attempted cat-walks, and, perhaps, a (bit) of smothering! We've seen each other through sickness and pain---her years battling a serious case of fleas and ringworm meant hours bonding in the bathroom picking through until every last one was drowned in the toilet. I don't know many cats that would tolerate laying upside down while their mom picked, pulled, and prodded. I think deep down she must have known that it was for her own good. Of course, all that close contact meant that we shared the ringworm that she was infested with, and, I hardly cared. When I was sick, or in tears, my little pumpkin face was never far away. She was never huge with the cuddles, but she made exceptions at times like that and would often lick away my salty tears or lay near for hours, never fully closing her eyes as if keeping a constant watch. She saw me through my teenage years, and, although I wavered from moment to moment, she never did. Sometimes I would tell her I despised her as much as the rents--and sometimes, she was the only one I wanted to be around. One minute she was the target of my teenage angst and the next she was the only reason I wasn't running away in full blown teenage protest. And, in turn, I struggled through her own teenage protests. When she put her guts to the test and wondered beyond the security of home one day, I held on to me "Homeward Bound" fueled hopes while my parents scurried about (I didn't find out until later) with posters, reward promises, and fruitless searches. Nearly a week later as my parents were trying to find the heart to have the "she's-not-coming-home" talk with me, my little brat surfaced. She was found---a bit more dirty, humble and thin--but found! As my teenage moodiness faded into young-adult heartache, she was always there. She sat, she listened, she joined me for nights filled with ice cream and movies (so what if she only stayed because I shared my ice cream with her)! She saw me off to college and was always waiting for my return so she could once again wake me at 5am with her "play-with-me" meows.

As old age began taking it's toll, she went through an "I-forget-where-to-pee" stage---a stage which never phased me and which my dad graciously accepted without much fuss. Her kidneys needed convincing to stay strong which turned me and, in my absence, my dad, into expert kidney healers. When the call came that he thought her time was coming to a close---weight loss, weakness, lack of purring, we knew without hesitation that we wanted to send her off peacefully before the pain kicked in. And, although I'm at peace with it, a little piece of my heart has gone with my baby. I wish that I could have been there to kiss her little nose one last time---but, knowing that she was in good hands makes it easier to accept. Although I hate that dad had to go through the process alone, it's symbolic in ways---I remember so clearly the site of tiny, kitten, Cashmere in my dad's big, strong, hands----and, it puts my heart at ease visualizing her slipping peacefully away in the same hands that held her tiny body (nearly) 20 years before. And knowing that Dr. T and Jenna, the nurse and Doctor that I've come to know and love over the years, were there for her in her final moments fills my heart with relief.

It's amazing how much joy my fur-ball brought to my life. I'll never forget the day there was a meowing towel under the Christmas tree, when, in an instant, that meowing towel changed my life forever!!

You will never be forgotten Cashee!

Let's hear it for NEW YORK...!

I should be honest from the start, I've never really been a big advocate for gay rights, gay marriage, gay anything....I kind of felt like just "mixing in" would be more powerful then anything. A way, in sorts, to prove that we really aren't different at all. I always believed that breaking down stereotypes one ignorant person at a time would be much more effective then covering myself in rainbows while declaring to the world that I'm "gay and proud"...and pissed off. But, as I find myself singing Alicia Keys (and Jay Z's) song...again...I realize how proud I am for this moment. Proud to be a part of changing times...proud that it's going in this direction...proud that it's, well, NEW YORK! At times I feel ashamed for not doing more. When amazing people step up and "fight the fight" that isn't even, technically, 'theirs', I feel like I'm taking the easy way out, just waiting...waiting to reap the benefits. But, I know that I make tiny changes in the world immediately around me and, in time, with enough people doing that, it does actually make a difference. But, it makes me appreciate those people who are getting, well, "loud" in a way that I never used to appreciate them. When people like Claire Buffie, my good friend's lil' sister, and former Miss NY choose "Straight for Equality: Let's Talk" as a pageant platform, it's incredibly moving. Filled with love for her sister, her family, and driven by a dream of equality, Claire tackled real issues with real elegance and passion. She never cowered in the face of adversity (and she faced a lot) and, I believe, brave people like Claire had a big influence on this change. It makes me proud...proud of Claire on a personal level, but also proud to be a part of a society that includes people like her. Looking at it from this perspective feels good---feels much better then looking at the half empty glass of "well, if ignorant assholes didn't exist, it wouldn't be such a big fight...". That view still exists within me, but, as time passes, as more and more people step up to fight these kinds of things, and, as change actually occurs, I find that, along with everything else in life, having the glass half full is so much more joyful.

And although I am happy that the possibility exists (obviously), no, I will not be running off to NY to get married (yet)! But, my love goes out to all those committed, loving couples who will now be able to express their love in a way they always dreamed. You deserve it.

The beauty around us

My recent trip back to the U S of A has been great. But, instead of giving you the play by play, I wanted to share some random tidbits. Over the course of my holiday, I witnessed, experienced, and felt many beautiful things. Some truly remarkable and others humorously simple, but all took my attention fully and led me into some sort of reflection....it's these type of things that rarely get the attention they deserve...so, here's giving an extra moment of notice...

The newly weds (Jay and Kaleigh) enclose a bottle of wine (representing their relationship...one that will age well and get better with time) along with notes to one another inside a box. The box, wine, and letters are to be opened on their 10th anniversary.

My cousin, who suffered a stroke several years ago which resulted in partial paralysis, briefly left her cane and (balance guide) dog behind so she could share a dance with her newlywed son.

Lizards. (okay, let me explain). I was sitting outside and this random lizard totally captivated me. I sat there, staring at this prehistoric looking thing and was transported to my childhood. I used to (regularly) catch them and make them bite my ears. Just like that, I had a pair of earrings. A part of me wanted to reach out and grab the lizard---but, I know, even if I decided to do it, I would have hesitated to catch it....let alone let the freakin' thing bite my ear. It made me appreciate my fearless younger self.

Nearly 6 months after being diagnosed with lung cancer and being told he had only weeks to live, my grandfather has tackled cruises and road trips and is making preparations for his November "I'm still here" party.

Carrots. Fresh from my brother's garden.

Jetblue. If you don't agree, try Air Asia as a budget air option and get back to me.

Enjoying Jamie's chicken and dumplings in the company of 4 people who have known me longer (and better) than most others.

Listening to my 98 year old great, great uncle retell the story about the time he came to our Christmas Party and we got him drunk.

Watching my friend---who kicks ass at being a vet---kick ass at being a mom even more.

Sitting on my bro's dock, watching the sunset, with him and mom, while trying to understand why the ducks found it absolutely necessary to get on the dock the moment we were sitting there.

Sitting next to my 19 year old cat, watching her doze off into a snore...

Being the first to occupy the guestroom in Jo and Ty's new house...and being around 2 people who make it easy to believe in love.

Sitting business class!! (ah, the beauty of knowing people in the industry! ;) )

Baking a cake with Grandma.

Eating breakfast with pops and getting the tour of the garden.

Closing down the wedding dance floor with some kind of crazy swaying, jumping, swinging, rocking moves---with all the cousins---led by GG.

Having a completely random Easter gathering at the park with GG and all her grandchildren that ended in a big soccer game. If only we had taken that picture...!

STOP...and smell the fish balls!

Time flies when you're having fun! A Christmas trip to Nepal (with some great peeps), several weekend getaways/day trips (to take advantage of some amazing weather), some intense job-hunting, and a 10 day whirlwind adventure with visiting friends has come and gone---and Borneo sits on the horizon (2 more days to be exact!). The last few months have brought endless smiles to my heart and sometimes I need to find the time to sit back, take a breath, and fully appreciate all that I've done.

Mount Everest and the Himalayan mountains greeted our plane on Christmas day and shortly after, Fern and I were enjoying mulled wine with Kerry, Steph, and Dave in Kathmandu, Nepal. It was a beautiful (and unique) way to celebrate Christmas! We received our hiking itinerary that day and all had a good (nervous) laugh about the 6-day adventure that awaited us...including at least 1 day of "straight up". Awesome. --The trekking was great, although a bit exhausting (okay, maybe that's an understatement!) the scenery was amazing, and---, with our group, never a dull moment! Between the 5 of us, we had 3 porters and a guide---so, thankfully, we were only responsible for carrying our day packs!! Don't judge! We arrived to Ghorepani 2 days after we set off and were greeted by the snow-peaked Annapurna mountains against the setting sun---calling it beautiful would be a harsh understatement! Especially after we walked 2 days to get there! For Kerry and I the excitement was short lived and both of us would pay a rough price for making the wrong choice as dinner time. Our itinerary shifted, we hardly moved from bed all day (except to get sick of course), and our nurses (i.e. Fern and Steph) were gracious enough to take frequent breaks from their book reading, site seeing, weather-enjoying day to take care of us sickies! We were back on the trail the next day for what was arguable the most beautiful and real part of the trek. This less traveled track winded us through a local village, over and around rice terraces, through herds of sheep and buffalo and past the local people going about their lives. It was a great day-after-feeling-like-crap trek! All in all, the trip to Nepal was much too short to appreciate all it has to offer but we got a taste of it---especially of the amazing hiking. The end of the trail was bitter sweet and we missed the mountainous surrounds immediately...but our legs...and all that lactic acid thanked us for the break!



After the Christmas holiday, I returned to work to finish out the term with my "graduating" K3's. It was an emotional moment---my first ever K1 class all grown up and leaving K3. I can't believe how fast the time has gone. Although I've been job searching and will continue to search, I've decided, after a good deal/offer from my current employer, that I'll be staying put for now. Next term will offer me a chance to make some changes to the overall curriculum which will be a great chance to gain some experience. As for now, I'm enjoying my time off---but, as always, I'm missing my crazy kids already!

Jose and Alexis have just left and I think I'm still in shock that I ever went to the airport to get them in the first place!! I have to admit that I never really expected the "yeah, I'm thinking of coming to visit" to materialize---so, when I learned that it was...for BOTH of them...I was so excited!! I loved inviting them into my world and showing them around. Lots of laughs (Dearest Scotsman with the Bangkok Belly---squatting toilets are for SQUATTING...not sitting! HA) and good times...and, perhaps for one, a newly ignited fire for travel! You know where to find a travel buddy Jose!

Borneo is next on the list and we head out on Thursday! We'll be traveling our way around Sabah making sure to fit in diving and snorkeling at Mabul and Sipidan islands, river cruising in search of wild animals, visiting the orangutans, and trekking around Mount Kinabalu. Bring on the jungle...bring on the river...bring on the clear blue seas!! Will post pictures when I return in April.

Serenity, Balance, and life in between

I'd like to note that I'm currently writing to the sweet sounds of Clory Martin (a Rice teammates' voice)...and you should check her out. :)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2105088&id=3001224&saved#!/pages/Clory-Martin/96964545642

The words and thoughts have been swimming wildly through my mind and show no sign of stopping. I usually wait until things come to some sort of order in my head before I put it to paper. But I'm beginning to give up hope that any sort of order will arise this time. So, here goes.

My last blog had a lot to do with life outside the box, pushing boundaries and limits and seeing things in this world that you can't learn in text books. About challenging ignorance and slipping outside of the mold of society. I am so thankful that the last few years have really given me the opportunity to do that but, for the first time ever, and with the aid of being "home" for the first time in a long time, I was exposed to the painful side of living this way. Until I made sense of what I was feeling, me and 'home' seemed to collide head on. The excess, the greed, the blindness was all around me---it was in the huge houses, the million dollar yachts, the wastefulness, the seemingly care-less (if not completely ignorant) conversations and mutterings all around me. I felt a cloud shadowing over me...frustration, anger, sadness... and it was hard to shake. My serenity seemed to be drowning in a sea of emotions that I couldn't quite make sense of. But with the help and love of my family and friends (probably little to their knowledge), I regained that serenity, re-found that place of peace, and was once again feeling balanced. I embraced the realization that, although I have opened my eyes and heart to the suffering around the world (not to mention the shocking way we treat the earth), it doesn't, in effect, mean I have to close my heart to other aspects of life. It doesn't have to overpower all else, doesn't have to deem the 'simple pleasures in life' trivial, unworthy, or unjustified. In fact, on the contrary, it's these simple pleasures that make the fight worth fighting, and, as I'm learning, losing sight of them is losing sight of everything. Being in the presence of things that are truly beautiful in their own ways---no matter how simplistic or how (seemingly) extravagant, was much needed. Being reunited with my 18 year old cat, enjoying drinks and easy laughs with friends and family, cooking (and EATING), scuba diving, witnessing an exchange of vows (http://www.ourlaboroflove.com/showit/molly_and_amber/), bike riding, enjoying the fall season, walking the Freedom Trail...
For a bit, I allowed myself to slip passed serenity--- how can I possibly enjoy "this" when "that" is happening?! How can I possibly be having "this" conversation when "that" needs discussing?! How can I possibly be eating like "this" when others are eating (or not) like "that"?! How can I possibly be doing "this" when it's contributing to "that"?! All these questions and concerns will remain within me---but, as I'm learning, they don't have to consume me. A balance can actually exist and, once I realized that, I again started seeing the beauty...the beauty without the shadow, or perhaps, despite the shadow. I will continue to strive for this balance---I will continue to push myself (and hopefully those around me) to be better---better consumers with a better awareness of ourselves and others---and I will hopefully always continue to push some kind of comfort zone, question and challenge ignorant-driven fears---but at the same time, I can't allow the resulting feelings, experiences or opinions completely overshadow all else---especially when it hinders my ability to enjoy those simple pleasures that, frankly, are worth enjoying...


I used to to believe that I was "stuck" somewhere between wanting to (settle down and) start a garden and wanting to travel the world. But, I've realize that I don't actually have to be "stuck" between---a balance can actually exist, and, as it turns out, both can happen simultaneously...

Happy holidays to everyone! I will be in Kathmandu, Nepal for Christmas and ringing in 2011 from top the Himalayas! Stand by for pics! Also, I have FINALLY got a good internet connection. I am once again connected into shutterfly (www.janellecrowley.shutterfly.com) and will once again be keeping my pics up to date there for those of you that are not a part of the facebook world (Grandma, GG!). Love to all.

Why thank you, world, for being my oyster!

World. International. Travel. A few years ago, it was nothing more than a section of the newspaper that I would casually and carelessly toss to the side. I even remember a much younger me uttering the words “how does this even affect me??” when asked why I didn’t care to read. Now, I’m here. Set loose in the world that, at one time in my life, I barely knew existed. Names that were once nothing more than a bunch of letters haphazardly put together to form some kind of unpronounceable word now roll of my tongue with familiarity, understanding and ease. When tragedy strikes in areas that we’ve never heard of, never been to, never cared to read about in the paper, it’s easier to keep a distance. It’s easier to pay some money to the cause and continue on our daily lives. When we hear our government, friends, or neighbors utter hurtful words about another race, religion, culture, country, it’s easier to jump on board, never challenging the ignorance that is driving the bandwagon. When terror strikes, it’s easier to point fingers, devise plans, create an environment in which hatred thrives. But somewhere along the line, someone else's word just wasn’t good enough anymore. I wanted to experience, breath, look, live, be-- outside of my own box---and see things through a heart wide open. Two years, 3 months, and 8 days ago, I set out on a journey that I hoped would help do just that, and the resulting experiences have been nothing short of amazing. And, although my journey is far from over, an increasingly consistent pull to again plant my feet in familiar soil beckons me to reflect, write, reminisce.
These chapters of my life have taken me through 7 countries, 7 (fascinating) cultures---they have opened up endless opportunities, challenged me to embrace the world and all the people in it, including myself. They have taken me through love—and heartache and every other emotion on the scale of emotions. I have been repelled by home and have longed for home. I have seen the things they omit from textbooks and have been repeatedly shocked by the capability of the human race---both positively, and negatively. I have met amazing people along the way who will forever be imprinted upon my heart. I have learned to work a little less hard (for those that really know me, you know this, actually, is a very good thing!). I have learned to trust my gut, and trust---people. I have learned the true power behind a smile and have learned the depth of peacefulness lurking in a simple meditation. I have, to sum it up, been on one hell of a ride.

A few powerful tidbits that really affected me:

Laos: UXO. An acronym that I never knew existed prior to setting foot in the country and one in which would have been impossible to ignore once there. UXO stands for unexploded ordinances---bombs that were dropped and failed to explode on impact during the Vietnam war remain highly active throughout the country. Straying from the path anywhere in Laos is tempting fate, and, as a foreigner, is unthinkable without a highly knowledgeable guide. However, everyday people have no choice---it’s their land, their farms, their roads, their schools and even today, people are dying every single day when this UXO awakens from its 35 year slumber.

Cambodia: The killing fields and S-21 school-turned-torture prison which showed the horrors of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge. Learning of such a horrific past while simultaneously being exposed to an amazingly uplifting, hopeful, and strong population/culture has created a humbleness that has seeped deep into my pores.

South Africa: Life in the townships is shocking and inhumane---especially since much of it is the results of District 6 being declared a “white’s only” area. Touring this amazing country gave me the opportunity to gain a better understanding and appreciation for what Nelson Mandela (and SO many others) were fighting for, and against.

Indonesia: In 18 short days, my preconceived notions and fears were effectively shattered by a very open and friendly culture. I received a bracelet from a random stranger that, at first I was scared to wear (why did he just give it to me then disappear?!), and now don’t want to take off. I hope it continues to serve as a reminder not to give in to ignorant driven fears about a country, culture, race, religion.

Philippines: Whale Sharks. They are, I’m quite certain, 1 of the most beautiful, amazing, breath-taking animals I have ever seen. When Ange and I spent 3 days in the water with them, I felt as though I was flying. It was unexplainable. Except for the times when we looked at other boats---at 1 time, there were nearly 10 boats around a single shark. The government has set specific rules for “engagement” --1 boat per shark, 3 divers per side, no touching, no blocking—however, these are only loosely followed. I want future generations to have the opportunity to experience these amazing creatures—so I hope the importance of these rules is discovered---and soon, before it’s too late (and no, this is not a dramatic exaggeration).

Namibia: The simplicity of life in a village is something we can all learn a little something from. I got a tiny glimpse into the importance of greeting, being, singing, dancing, and loving. Ironically (or not…), some of the most materialistically poor people in the world taught me a little something about living a rich and meaningful life…and furthered my belief that cultivating a simple lifestyle can be a very powerful thing.

(Thailand will have to be its own blog/book one day!)

Most importantly, I’ve learned—and have completely embraced the fact that there is always more to see, learn, experience, share and, no matter where my journey takes me next, I hope I never forget….

Such is Life...

The last few months have been a bit of a roller coaster and selfishly, I had to get some of it out---so here I am using, if not abusing, my blog spot! This is aimed at close friends and family---if you don’t fit into that category, it might be in your best interest to take a rain check until next blog!

The smoke has cleared and a bit of normalcy has started to return to the place I call home. I’m once again beginning to feel as though I’m in the ‘land of smiles’, and, although I’m not naïve enough to believe this is the end, it’s nice to see that the small things I love about this place are again taking form. The protests in Bangkok turned a bit heartbreaking in April, casting a bit of a shadow on an otherwise AMAZING vacation to the Philippines. It was a contrast that left both Ange and I a bit heavy hearted----coming out of the water (for example) from a swim with whale sharks to a text update from our friends in Bangkok. Things seemed to get progressively worse, but didn’t really start to peak until May 14th---we got sent home early from work, and collectively prepared to ‘bunk down’ for the weekend, allowing space for the chaos that would most likely follow a militant step-up. Luckily, my apartment is far away enough from the main area that I felt safe at home. For too many others this wasn’t the case, and my heart continues to go out to those more directly affected---those that undoubtedly can’t afford their losses. 2 friends, both who lived in a designated “live fire zone” relocated to my place---and I’m so thankful they did. Not only for their own safety, but for my own sanity. The weekend soon gave way to the week---which was declared a public holiday---with a strictly enforced curfew. The aura around everything and everyone changed drastically. Chaos. Pain. Fear. Hate. Things that I would never previously use to describe Thailand or the people here. I spent too much time sitting in the windowsill of my apartment watching the smoke take over the Bangkok skyline. Too much time watching the news or just listening to the sounds outside. It brought things way too close to home and my heart was breaking for the country, for my friends and their families, for my students. Thailand vowed to step up—starting with a “together we can” campaign which brought thousands of people to the streets to help clean up the aftermath. Although it was a hopeful sign and a moving outcome, the aftermath can’t as easily be wiped from memories, hearts, or…the economy. The country continues to struggle---and I continue to feel a bit helpless---but I will continue to hope….and ask that you do too.

I also wanted to remind everyone at home how much I’ve been there in spirit over the last few months. It’s never easy being so far from loved ones, but the last few months have proved to be especially challenging.

Christel’s father passed away on May 28th, and although I only briefly met him, I know that Christel gets her “french kiss life” attitude from somewhere. One of the many times recently I’ve wanted to ‘beam’ myself home. Love you honey.

Jo’s father lost his battle with cancer on June 8th and it has been incredibly difficult for me to be “absent” during this time. Her father was an amazing man, who I feel privileged to have known, and whose spirit, charm, wit, humour (and so much more) will live on in his daughters and grandchildren. Joseph, I hope you continue to feel my love and support from oceans away.

Also, this has been a very difficult time for my family, as my grandfather (lovingly known to his grandchildren as “pop-pop”) passed away on June 11. It was something we were prepared for, and he had a great life---touching all our lives in so many ways---but being unable to be there for him, for my dad, my grandmother, my family, has been incredibly painful. I love you all and hope you know that you continue to be in my everyday.

And, on the flip side of emotions, MB (one of my Aussie 5) is now wed, and Ry has completed ---no, no…kicked the ass of---his first ever marathon. 2 events that I was there for in spirit. Miss you guys.

My visit home in October will be much needed (to say the least) and I’m really looking forward to seeing and hugging everyone. It has been far too long! And, am super excited for Beans (uh, sorry…that would be ‘Molly’ to everyone but me and NZ peeps!)…WEDDING!! Her and Amber will be tying the knot Oct. 30th and they may possible make the most beautiful pair of lobsters ever. I hope my date (cough, cough…you better not sell me out!) brings me a lot of Kleenex…not sure who was lucky enough to sit next to me at Kev and James wedding, but, they’ll tell you that I’m ridiculous when it comes to this stuff! ! I’m ready to share some long overdue love, hugs, laughs, and cries….But, perhaps I should mention, in order to end (parental) speculation, as of now, my visit home in October is just that…a visit!


Any support you can give to my friend Jo would be amazing---she is doing an amazing thing for an amazing cause.
http://www.pmc.org/profile/JR0290