hahahahaha.

Scene:

Tonight riding home in the front seat of my Chin.ese BFF Doctor Xu's car. He is explaining to me his plans to marry his girlfriend.

Me, "how do you say, 'fiance' in Chin.ese?"

Him, "Fiance? Fiance? That is a singer! A singer!"

..........confused pause..........

Him, "Ohhhhh, BEYONCE!"

Me, "hahahahahhahahahahahahaha..."

walk slow. xoxo.

exhaustion, idealism, and reality.

Today:

6:00 am: wake-up, shower, study, make oats for breakfast

9:30 am: bike to class, take a test

10:42 am: try not to cry because I left an entire page blank

11:00 am: test ends, facilitate class field trip

12:05 pm: the bus isn't coming, get 20 people in taxis going the right direction

12:30 wait with class for teacher to meet us, tell dumb stories to entertain them

12:45 pm: teacher arrives, we go eat lunch

1:30 pm: lunch ends, go to museum together

4:00 pm: class leaves, a friend and I barter for some Christmas gifts, then I am off to work

5:00 pm: arrive to work early to finish preparing, my USB is with a friend, so have to do it all without technology

5:28 pm: my boss calls me 2 minutes before my class begins to tell me she is too busy to pay me

5:30 pm: class begins

5:45 pm: boss knocks on door and calls me outside, I get paid

7:00 pm: class ends, clean up, walk to bus stop

7:30 pm: bus to another campus of Zhe Da, hungry

7:50 pm: remember there is a Subway nearby, sub of the day is Turkey! Angels sing

8:20 pm: wait in the freezing cold for my friends, answer 100 text messages

8:45 pm: meeting with student leaders and other people about orphan work

10:30 pm: ride Hannah's bike to the closest intersection to my home, she rides on the back of Nate's bike, we sing Christmas carols

11:00 pm: arrive home, crash

oh crap, I have homework. And a package to mail. And a jacket to get buttons sewn on. No sympathy allowed, I need to re-prioritize and manage my time better.

On another note:

I had a sobering and sad conversation with a student/doctor today at work.

Every week I give them phrases and a proverb to begin class. Today's proverb was one of my favorites that is hanging up in my room.

"If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping in a closed room with a mosquito." -African Proverb

This quote is so inspirational for me and I wanted to share it with my students. We read the quote and then I ask for their ideas about what it means. I got some close stuff like, "mosquitos are small, but can bother you a lot," and some not so close stuff like, "if you go through trouble it makes you stronger." I explained that it means that if even a tiny thing like a mosquito can make a big difference, than certainly a human can make a big difference. Then we moved on.

One hour later towards the end of class I heard some students talking during an oral excercise.

"Mosquitos are powerful and I am not powerful so maybe I cannot make a difference."

I marched right over there. "Um, I don't think you understand the meaning of the quote. Tell me about this."

We talked and he told me that he understands my meaning but that not everywhere can this be true. He feels that the mosquito has more power than him. He doesn't compare the mosquitos size to a humans and then deduce that a human can make a difference.

"There are 1.3 billion people..." he started to say, claiming Chi.na's population as a reason why he feels powerless.

I've heard all that before, so I negated it right away and told him that a country with 1.3 billion people means that it is a country with 1.3 billion people who are bigger than mosquitos and can make a difference in their world.

Then, this 25 year old doctor broke my heart...

"Everyone is smaller than a mosquito in Chi.na."

I just looked at him. Took a deep breath. And accepted his opinion.

"I'm sorry," I said. Then turned to the class.

"Now, let's move on to review this week's vocabulary. Word 1: dehydration..."

This is something that I struggle with here a lot as a teacher. When does idealism counterract with reality. Are people really ever powerless? Should I encourage people to dream even if they might never be given an opportunity to even voice that dream?

There's 1.3 billion people here who could change the world. If only they believed it.

walk slow. xoxo.

chinese is hard.

I have a test tomorrow. Learning Chinese is one of the hardest things I've ever set out to do. And sometimes I (rightfully so) feel like this journey will never end.

I haven't prepared well for my test because my life is so busy. I'm going to be rearranging my schedule to include more studying. But first things first...gotta get through this test...

"There are many people studying Chinese now. I hope that all of you reporters, and the other ladies and gentlemen in attendance, can take up the study of Chinese. I believe that Chinese is one of the easiest languages in the world to learn. Otherwise, how can you explain why 1.3 billion people have chosen it as their mother tongue?"
-Chinese Foreign Minister Yang Jiechi

walk slow. xoxo.

BAH.

This morning's weather forecast:

Sunny, high of 51, 0% chance of rain.

I returned home from class this afternoon to this:

wind scattered/rain soaked.

GRRRRRRRRRR.

I hand washed all that yesterday! I WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR A WASHER/DRYER. ANYTHING.

Back to my station at the sink...I have muddy clothes to wash (again).

GRRRRRRRRRR.

the north korean chronicles continue. and other stories.

I registered with the US Embassy last week.

Americans living abroad are encouraged to register with the embassy in case there is an emregency, the embassy will go looking for them. Without registering, I am not on file with the government as living here.

I hadn't done it yet because I'm slightly lazy and just didn't care. No world events have caused me scurrying to make sure I am accounted for. With all that is going on here in Asia, and with the long term commitment I have made to living abroad, I decided that now was a good time to get numbered. (foreigners living abroad - go do it. I shouldn't have waited this long.)

This has given me a new sense of courage in dealing with my pesky, drunkard neighbors, the NK's.

Today when all 3 of the laundry machines (not automatic) for my dorm were being used except the one at the end of the NK hall, I didn't hesitate to wander my pajama-clad, unwashed, sock wearing self down there and load up the machine.

I'm a Believer AND I'm registered with the embassy....CAN'T TOUCH THIS! :) I've got Jesus AND Obama on my side. It's like I won the life lottery.

All was quiet on the hall while I piled my nasty clothes into the washer and turned on the hose to start filling the machine with water (it's basically a large, hand washing machine, I have to dig my hands into it to stir my clothes around. I could complain about this for hours if I had willing ears).

Soon, though, I heard comotion on the hall and realized the NK's were returning from some kind of all-together outing.

The washing machine is in a nook at the end of their hallway, so they couldn't see me just by walking down the hallway. They would have to round the corner to go to the bathroom to see me.

Of course, several of them did have to do their business, so I was noticed, but I just stood there doing my laundry, not really paying attention to anyone. I also let my hair fall around my face so that I couldn't really see anyone, this gave them a chance to look me over without either of us noticing the other's eyes. (this is a trick I do with Chi.nese people, too, I find it gives me space because living here I get stared down so much, if I don't physically see them looking at me, they can gawk, and I don't have to see it.)

After a few minutes something inside me told me to turn around.

I turned around quickly to find half of a face peeking at me from around the corner. He snapped back out of sight when I turned.

Poor baby was scared to walk by me to go to the bathroom. I put on my "pre-school teacher" voice from many moons ago.

Me, softly, "Nihao," (hell0).

Him, softly, "Nihao, Nihao," As he clutched his sides and slid behind me into the bathroom.

A minute later he emerged and glided by me without saying a word. Precious, brainwashed soul.

He was scared of me. Like a beaten puppy. And all I was doing was doing my laundry in my pink jammies. I'll never forget this. What an odd sensation to realize you are feared just for being you/a girl/American/tall/redhead.

I wandered into the open hallway to return some soap to my room and pick up another basket of clothes and lo and behold out walked an NK in his towel. That was a weird moment. One word: skinny.

Then 5 seconds later a young NK appeared (clothed) from out of their communal shower room (half way down the hall I was walking). We just stopped and looked at each other for a minute. I had never seen him before and was stunned to see a young, filled out, normal-ish looking NK.

I continued walking and he followed behind me making "wahh, wahhh" sounds at me until I rounded the corner to my side of the building. Like he had never been that close to a female before. I wanted to trun around, say something to him, befriend him, and see how far I could get in creating an almost friendship with him, but I just kept walking.

5 minutes later when I returned to their hall to pick up my laundry, all was quiet. They had retreated to their rooms where they spend most of their time behind closed doors.

I'm going to be doing my laundry there more often. I plan to become a regular on the hall. I am registered with the embassy, after all.

Oh and Hillary Clinton - no use making Ch.ina upset and having these big talks with the Eastern powers on NK. Just let me know what you want to pass along and I'll let some of the NK leaders know next time I see them. They're frightened of/curious/tolerate me so I'm sure they'll listen. Kapeesh?

Then, tonight I had dinner at Subway with one of my Chin.ese friends, his wife, and a highschool student that my friend tutors in English. I was introduced to be kind of a "way look, talk to a foreigner" situation. I love these Chin.ese friends, though, so I didn't feel exploited.

Half way through the dinner the kid is telling me that he loves history. "Who in history do you admire?" I asked him.

"Hitler." -him.

"Um, what?" -me.

"I have nothing to do with this idea!" -my friend.

"Please explain." -me.

He went on to tell me that young Chin.ese people admire Hitler because he was a great leader and a great speaker. He admires Hitler's ability to get people to follow him and thinks he could have been the "father of Germany" if he would have died 39 years earlier. (apparently I slept through history class in HS because I have no idea what that means).

The whole time he was speaking I was so sad. I wanted to say, "I know of another great leader in history who was also a great speaker. He persuaded millions of people to follow him and millions still do today. His message was love and mercy and compassion not violence and hate and murder. His message has inspired the greatest selling book of all time."

But I didn't get into this. It wasn't the right time. I only said, "A person should not only be respected because he has good speaking skills. There are more important things that qualify a leader. Please keep reading more about other great people in history like Mother Teresa, Gandhi, and Nelson Mandela."

What are they teaching these kids in these schools that they are idealizing Hitler?!?! And how the heck can I get through to this kid that he is ideolizing the wrong people without ending up in jail myself? Oh, Chi.na. What a weird place.

Other conversation gems throughout the evening included:

"NK now is like Chi.na 70 year ago."

"All Americans love Hamburger King."

"Why are you 24 years old and not married? Don't you want kids?"

and my personal favorite...

"You are doing a "bo shi" (doctor degree)? You don't look like a PhD. You look like fun."

Cheers, kid. Maybe we'll meet again one day.

Update:

My blood tests were normal! Hallelujah!

Last month there was a little bit of a scare. My doctor friend called me all choked up because my tests were abnormal (which would mean a potential return to the USA). It was then concluded that my numbers were out of whack because I had not been told to fast before giving the blood. I redid the tests after fasting and all was ok, but it was still a little nerve wracking. I found out today that my tests from this month are all perfect. My friend even was kind enough to tell me that they, "are surprised a fat girl's blood is so good."

Thanks, turds. :)

Blood tests, NK's, hand washing laundry, Chi.nese highschoolers. My life is a weird adventure. PTL. Hope things are good in your hood.

walk slow. xoxo.

My Dad.

Grand Canyon, summer 2009

Chicago, summer 2010
Grand Canyon, summer 2009
North Carolina, summer 2009

My dad is a leader. A 6'5" oak tree.

Nobody works at the same company for 30 years.

But my dad has.

Because he is a hard worker, a faithful friend, and a brilliant social coordinator.

My childhood memories of my dad include watching his perform as Peter in the annual chrch Last Supper re-creation and doing a Sunday morning chrch act as "Indiana Dave," Indiana Jones hat, whip and all.

My dad has run so many marathons that I don't even remember the number. But it's more than my age.

My dad supported me through college and has given me the greatest physical gift a young person could get: I am entering into adult-hood debt free. Thank you.

I am mostly like my mom in character but there are some pieces of me that are distinctly "dad": my trip planning skills, people skills, wit, sentimentality, and my face/nose/eyes/height.

My dad wears a tie to work and running shorts on the weekends. He looks up music that my sister mentions because he cares about what she likes. He saves all of our momentos in a closet and den space that is overflowing with pictures of our family as it grew up.

My dad has ridden camels in Israel, gone to shows in Bangkok, run a marathon on Paris, and been force fed Chin.ese food in Hong Kong.

My dad starting working in highschool at the local pub clearing tables during the night shift. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. I have always contemplated this. My dad has incredible work ethic.

My dad buys me plane tickets home because I can't afford them.

My dad's favorite movie is Chariots of Fire which he bought for my sister and I to watch with him when we were in middle/high school. We made fun of it, but we shouldn't have. My dad was making a memory with us - sharing with us his favorite film.

One of my main reasons for not quitting my PhD program is that my mom has promised me that when I graduate, the whole family will come to Chi.na. And I want my dad to come here. So I won't quit.

My dad is full of character. He can switch from a goofy dude into a serious businessman in 2 seconds flat. He can also tell you what day of the week any day of the year will be.

My dad values tradition. I am thankful for this.

My dad came to my swim meets and is the only parent on the side lines of my sister's running races. Anything we do he throws himself into to support us. I want to do this for my children one day. Even if they act like it's not cool - it will mean something to them.

My dad has taught me to go for my dreams, that I am strong and capable, and that no matter where I go, I always have a family at home to return to. My dad has taught me to look at the facts before making an emotional decision.

I have never been told "no" by my dad when I mentioned a goal or dream or idea.

My dad is my earthly provider and a source of directional guidance.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DAD.

I love you.

that time again...

Sometimes I like to narrate my life to myself. Just to make sure I know it is real.

(Do you do this? Please tell me I'm not the only one...)

For instance tonight after work:

Jessica is entering an operating room in Chi.na at her place of work, a children's hospital...

Jessica is in the ICU speaking Chin.ese to nurses while machines pump life into children...

Jessica is getting blood drawn threw her hand because the nurses think she is too fat to get it taken out of her arm. Jessica doesn't care that they call her fat every time. Nurses in America can take her blood just fine. What's their problem here?

Jessica doesn't like blood/hospitals/people in white coats/beeping sounds on hospital machines. But Jessica is getting braver/less wussy with each passing month. Come on Jessica, suck the heck up.

Jessica has latent tuberculosis. In Chi.na. And is in an operating room surrounded by half-dead children getting her blood drawn to make sure her medicine isn't killing her.

Then Jessica gets on a public bus and goes home. To her dorm room. In Chi.na.

Jessica is indebted to many Chine.se people who help her.

Jessica is thankful to be alive.

walk slow. xoxo.