How to do what I do...

Thanks to the progression of social media and my own vanity, more and more people are seeing my pictures and asking me "Laura, how can I do this too?" Everyone has a dream to travel and see the world but it always only seems like just that, an un-accomplishable dream. So here's a few steps that I think will send you packing and on your way:

1. Register and get your passport. Getting everything together and taken to the post office takes no more than a day. You should have your passport back in eh maybe 2 months. It can be expedited for a little extra.

2. Sign up for Couchsurfing.com. Even if you decide you never want to stay at someone's house or vice versa, Couchsurfing is the best tool for traveling and will become your best friend. 

3. Decide where you want to go. Do extensive research: weather, currency exchange, cost of living, surrounding areas of interest, jobs you could do (usually teaching English). Use couchsurfing by joining the group for chosen city, write a post asking about the city in the group, message people that may have the same interests as you and ask them certain questions on a more personal level: nightlife, jobs, how the people are and just generally what they think of the place. Couchsurfing people are more than happy to help travelers and future expats and are usually more than willing to show you around the city upon your arrival.  

4. Find out if you need a visa for chosen place and begin working on the requirements for the visa. 

5. Save money!!! Really really cut back on partying and spending. Be super frugal and everytime you want to buy something at Starbucks, think about your trip. Trust me, this is the hardest thing for me but so important.

6. Sell your car. Not a necessity, but recommended! Especially if you're intending to stay abroad for a year or more. The extra money is great while you're trying to get settled into a new country, ie finding a place, a job, cell phone, all the start up costs. Plus, what are you going to do with it for a year besides think about it depreciating? Buy a new one when you get home.

7. Buy your plane ticket. Do this as soon as possible, but research all possibilities to find the cheapest route. So what if you're traveling for three days to save an extra 100$, trust me, it's not so bad. Even if you're alone: journal, read, meet new people, it's great. If leaving from Orlando, then layover in Dallas, then LAX, then PEK then you arrive 36 hours later? It will make you appreciate a hot shower and the land that much more! Generally, leaving on a Tuesday or Wednesday is the cheapest.

8. Save money!! Keep doing it. 

9. Start to pack for your trip, even if it's 2 months away. Start shopping and think about things you can't live without: tampons (never find them abroad!) medicines (tylenol, benadryl, PEPTO! imodium AD, any scripts you need, get the max you can get from your doc), hand sanitizer, garlic salt, lemon pepper. 

I think that's all the prep stuff. If I think of anything else, I'll add an addendum. If anyone has any questions, please email me...Laurafuhrmann305@yahoo.com. And by no means am I an expert on traveling or living abroad but there are a few things I can offer as far as advice! I always wanted to travel and never thought I could and one day, I said "I'm going to do this." Then I left 2 months later for Turkey and haven't stopped for three years (well, brief breaks at home). I love traveling and I want everyone to have the opportunity and not just dream and never do it and regret it forever ! That would just suck

Lady Boy Entertainment

The thriving lady boy industry in Thailand is one to not be missed. If you love drag shows, theatre, dramatic entrances, lavish costumes and entertainment for not-quite-the-whole-family, check out one of the many cabaret shows. Generally following the loosely used term burlesque ideals, these shows can be often comedic and over the top. They're colorful and exciting and truly part of Thai tourism. Cabaret shows aside, the average lady boy can be seen all over Thailand and isn't necessarily a performer but maybe a sales clerk, waitress, or just a passerby.
Surprisingly, they do a very good job of tucking it back or in some cases they've had the surgery

because in the particular show I saw, I saw no bulges or any other penile evidences. These men without the organ switch-up surgery are known as "transvestites" while those having the surgery are "transsexual."Because this surgery is quite expensive (as you can imagine), most ladyboys are simply transvestites or she-males. The breast augmentation is found to be much much cheaper and therefore many opt for this type of surgery.      However, for the simple backpacker or not so informed tourist, this could set one up for an embarrassing or in some cases quite uncomfortable encounter. So be sure, foreign boys, before taking a sweet Thai "girl" to your bed, you may be signing on for more than you bargained. Additionally, some lady boys are incredibly beautiful! They can be very effeminate with amazing tits, banging bodies and flawless make up, some look better than most real girls.

Kathoey is the Thai term for this third gender. They are also known at Phyuing prophet song which means "a second kind of woman." The history of this lifestyle seems to date back to World War II, when in Thailand women were not permitted to perform in public, so instead men dressed in women's clothing and performed for the soldiers. These days Thailand is glittered with lady boys just trying to live their lives like any other woman. They want to be loved and desired, sexy and sought after.  When in the past, families would encourage their daughters to venture to Bangkok to work to make money to send back to their villages, now families are pushing their sons to Bangkok to live a life as a Kathoey in the Bangkok night life. 

 These lady boy shows are much more than a common drag show, which, don't get me wrong, are super fun no matter your sexual orientation. They are themselves a major contribution to the Thai culture and should not be missed <3 p="">

Kindergarten teacher moonlighting as a stripper

Kindergarten teacher by day, pole dancer by night. Fortunately enough for me, Chinese entertainment managers are always looking for foreign talent. And what I lack in talent, I make up in foreignerness! One night, while the roommates and I were scoping out some new night clubs and I was perhaps a tad inebriated, we wandered into a really cool, well decorated night club. Trees seem to grow up through the ground floor and flourish onto the fourth floor where all the action seemed to be. It was like a little indoor rainforest lined with comfy couches and sporting a pretty good DJ, who I would later know as Jay. Lit up in the center of this intimate discotheque like a holy grail of dance floors was an elevated small stage surrounding a shiny new stripper pole. Naturally, as the attention seeking, crowd pleasing girl I am, I lept up on this untouched mecca and rocked some of my amateur dancing and pole tricks. I was drunk so in my head, I was a limber and flowing Esmeralda. And luckily sitting across from this spectacle, was the owner of the bar who may have been as drunk if not more than myself. He beckoned over my friends and me and insisted we drink with him. Free liq? Don't mind if we do! So shot of beer after shot of beer, he begged me to start dancing at his club on the reg. Every night from 10pm to 1am I was to come to the bar, my friends invited, he would provide us beers and we were to drink with the guests. Then twice for five minutes each, I would perform some pole dancing, don't worry, no clothing removal, just dancing. Payment, 200 RMB a night. This is only equivalent to about 30 bucks but to hang out and drink and dance AND get paid? Come up! I do that for free all the time!

           So I started working there everynight. At first it was awesome, and the mates came along. And because I am NOT a dancer but merely a crowd pleaser, if people weren't watching or cheering I felt like a limp marionette being controlled by a lazy and drunken puppeteer. Most nights, when no one would go with me, I would sit by myself for 30 minutes or longer, bored and waiting for someone to call me to their table to drink along with them. A pretty foreign girl seen at their table cheersing and playing Chinese drinking games with them, the Nirvana of social status. Due to this part of my job description, by the time it was time for me to get up and dance, I was often quite drunk, affecting the crispness of my moves and ability to do spins and simple pole lifts. I turned into a messy blob of movement and looked like a toddler trying to walk for the first time. Additionally, drinking sometimes heavily everynight was not setting my body up for quick recovery from all the pole bruisers I was incurring all over my legs. I looked like I a soccer player that couldn't afford to by shin guards. I imagined this is what Nancy Kerrigan's legs looked like post Tonya Harding.
   

 Luckily, my kindergarten classes were scheduled for afternoons so I had mornings to recover. But as an almost thirty, not so in shape alcoholic, this job was killing me. I started taking more and more nights off and was desperately seeking the break from the pole when I left for Thailand. Not so surprisingly, I was thrilled when I came home from my two week Thai sabbatical to learn I was no longer employed at Eleven bar. I picked up additional kindergarten classes in the morning, which at my age, is more my style. And having recently gotten engaged (!!!), this was more appropriate. Some nights at the club, guys would ask me to be their girlfriend, try to kiss me and one night I even got asked to "make love." I told the guy I wasn't that kind of girl and I had a boyfriend...he didn't seem to care. He grabbed my head and tried to ram his slug of a tongue down my throat. I turned and pushed but he was too strong so instead I got a horse lick up the side of my face! Yuck! I felt like a baby kitten getting a bath. I left immediately after that feeling both violated and like I needed a shower, this was the last night I had worked at Eleven. And I was only happy to return for the easy money, after all I have an expensive wedding to save for. But when I was dismissed, I was relieved. I do enjoy dancing and people being excited about it, even if my audience is white girl wasted and the only way I look like Beyonce is through their beer goggles. Plus, I was really beginning to dread that job, dancing wasn't fun anymore. It had become work. Now I dance for free and it's fun again. So good bye stripper Laura. Welcome back drunken attention seeker!

Chiang Mai Vs. the rest of Thailand

In a post Hangover 2 world, I feel people only think of Thailand as a hot, smoggy Bangkok. And while early posts of mine talk the world of this City of Life, I can boast with confidence to future Thailand travelers to skip this bustling city of scam artists, tourist traps and more Europeans than the world cup and fly right into Chiang Mai. This crafty, quiet city has the charm of an old country city and somehow still the convenience of an international city. It's streets are littered with little massage boutiques, open air cafes and the occasional tattoo parlor and aside from the few touristy sites, less foreigners than most Thai cities. During the day, mopeds and pedestrians flood the simple streets and at dusk most venture to the colorful night bazaar or local lady boy cabaret show. The city hosts several elaborate wats (buddhist temples) and the only large buildings are resorts or hotels. Just outside metropolitan Chiang Mai lies stunning mountains and lush jungle. There is a tiger "kingdom" which is easily accesible by tour trips but I recommend renting a motor bike and following a map. The scenic drive is only a little hectic when first leaving the old city and soon becomes easier and peaceful once you pass the main highways. The whole trip seems to take about 45 minutes to an hour but is worth the time. Plus, when you find a place yourself and aren't accompanied by fellow tourists, the trip seems to be that much better! The tiger kingdom is worth the visit. Not overly expensive to pet and play with the debatably drugged felines and take trillions of pictures. The staff is incredibly friendly and the tigers don't seem to be treated poorly, with the exception of an obvious heroine addiction to keep them from mauling the tourists. Many times the tiger would snap out of his high and move a little to brisk for my

comfortability and I would quickly feel like a guest at Jurassic Park, but the staff knew how to bring the tiger back down so nobody was eaten that day.

Yangmei Ancient Town

 

          After waiting for other Yangmei destined passengers, our typical-of-a-day-trip bus finally takes off out of metropolitan Nanning and into China's countryside. The moment tires touch sand and banana trees and farmland creep around us, I am instantly transported 15 years into provincial China. The bumpy, yet incredibly scenic trek was a bit scary. The day was rainy and the sand roads wet and muddy. I knew our rickety bus would at any moment be the victim of tragic mudslide but still hoped for the best. Occasionally, we'd drop off a passenger in the middle of nowhere and I had to wonder where the hell they might be going.
            Finally after our two hour imminent-landslide journey, our bus arrives in what appears to be a brick-laden ghost town. The rain has stopped but there is still that mystical fog that hangs low like you see in ancient Chinese paintings. Walking into the town center, we see locals selling homemade pickled and spiced vegetables and they are kind enough to offer a sample! Which for those of you that know me, samples are one of my guilty pleasures :)

          You can't help but feel history seep from the dirt roads and through the brick walls that encase this centuries old town. This town was created in the time of the Ming dynasty and many of the sites were lodgings or meeting places for it's members. Free range chickens roam the streets and stray dogs wrestle in front of vendors. People still inhabit this village but live a much more simpler lifestyle than modern Chinese. Unlike most of China's "ancient towns," this one is not commercial and still operates as a legit town. We checked out several little temples and old buildings and then had lunch. We had a famous local dish of pork with the skin and fatty strip under the skin still attached, seaweed soup, and an egg, tofu, tomato dish. Lunch was lovely, hearty and fulfilling.  We walked around for another hour or so and boarded our death trap transportation back to Nanning. On the way, I kept telling myself that if these large construction trucks didn't slide in the mud and tip, the bus would be fine, that the driver was controlling and capable. Of course, 15 minutes into the journey, we see a giant truck tip over on its side that apparently slid in the mud! Great. Anxiety sets in and I try to divert my attention by talking to my friend.
        The town was absolutely lovely and truly historic. The ride there, although scary, was equally pleasant. It's important to get out of the bustling city limits and take a little time to reflect in a quieter and more humble setting.

Good Morning Vietnam

            Upon exiting a snug, yet somehow comfortable sleeper train, I am met with a slight cool, not quite crisp   and still polluted air. The streets are silent and empty with few wandering stragglers, us included. We trek away from the train station, carting only our backpacks in search of cheaper transportation. It's 5 am. Only the few street lights whisper dirty, run down roads and buildings. My first glimpse into Hanoi, this ancient and debilitated city, is it's quite quintessentially beautiful. The city feels venerable and exhausted, years of history taking it's toll.

           We grab a cab and head to a more lively part of the city. Even at 5 am, few shops are beginning to open, Pho is being served and is that coffee I smell??!! We duck into a place my traveling mates only know as "Mama's house," but I can only imagine this Pho cafe has a lovely Vietnamese name. Finally, the moment I've been holding my breath for! Actual Vietnamese food and Pho! Back home I easily spend 10$ for a bowl of these magical rice noodles, bean sprouts, lime and cilantro and now I can have it for 2$. Both delicious and economical!Mama is an amazing cook and extremely hospitable. She figures out the wifi for me on my phone and when I spend to much time on the interwebs and not enough on my soup, she pantomimes to my phone down and scolds me in Vietnamese to eat my soup. After my internet and Pho indulgence, she brings me the most fabulous and strong cup of coffee, necessary to be awake at 5 am.
     

          As I check one thing off my Hanoi list, we head into the old quarter, just kind of wandering around as I snap pictures of everything. I love going to a new country. Nothing is like that first time. The new smells on every corner, different writing on each sign, the inability to communicate with anyone, and of course the new food! The thing about being American and eating in other countries is we eat almost everything from every inch of the world in America. We can access just about any dish! So when you actually try a favorite culinary genre in it's motherland, your mind is blown. While you can enjoy that particular something while your visiting, it most likely is ruined for you when you go home. So I was a little hesitant to eat all my faves.

         The more we stroll, the more people fill the streets. The park near the lake becomes a recreational circus with older people dancing, younger people stretching, and strange people doing a bunch of weird exercises. Motorbikes angrily rampage the streets as if waking up from months of cave hibernation. Dodging them is a true art. There really are no little green men lighting up the cross walk telling you to follow them, assuring you its okay and promising you the world on the other side. You really just have to time accordingly, hold your breath and make a run for it while bobbing and weaving.

         We follow our feet into a busy corner where the foreigners seem to be multiplying, I can only guess that we have stumbled into some sort of tourist breeding ground and a new litter may hatch at any moment, we must find that nest. The streets are littered with t-shirt stalls and other kitschy "Vietnamese" wares. Ladies selling fruit and other things while performing a very tricky scheme to get you to buy there crap. If they put it on you, it's yours, give me money. Genius.

        Managing to escape these fruit cons with only a bag of pineapple, we land in our next guilty pleasure eatery...

Drowning

As I rapidly approach 30, I see my dreams gradually diminish into shadows, equally as fast. I am kicking hard to stay afloat but am only sinking further and further into cold darkness. It feels like  someone has me by the ankles and is pulling me deeper. I can no longer hold my breath! I open my mouth as if to gasp for air only to get a mouth full of water. I gasp again. The icy water has made its way down my throat and into my lungs. If only I had gills to separate the water and oxygen.
10 years ago, if you asked me "Where do you see yourself at 30?" I would have said a prominent editor in New York, married, perhaps with children...living the dream.
5 years ago, "Where do you see yourself at 30?" Just finished my first novel, married, some big city, probably still New York, no kids, but a booming career.
Now ask me. Gainesville, maybe at UF maybe not. Working at Outback, hopefully not.
Granted I have some really cool experiences, and I love everything I've done. I wouldn't change a thing. But if you want to know why I'm drowning....
Some days my own pressure suffocates me, I struggle to loosen its white-knuckled grip from my neck and try to think of something else. Today I slipped under a thick layer of ice and fought the resistance to knock on the ice to get out or get someone's attention. No one heard me and the pulling began. This time no surface in sight. Just ice and water and darkness.

I've been 29 for 2 months now. Of my 3 before 30 goals, I've completed one and a half and a tenth.
Teach in another country. Check!
Finish school (4 years). Half done. 2 years to go.
Write the next great American novel. Started, far from finished.

So in an effort to find some peace of mind and perhaps swim to the surface, I've revised these goals.
Finish school before I turn 32.
Finish the next great American novel before 35.

And if I never get married, I must not become a crazy, cat lady (redundant?) The good news, I hate cats!

Okay, enough of this pity party! Thanks for listening :)

Back on that China grind

Readers, however few but awesome you are,

I do apologize for my inability to stay focused and dedicated. As my only Chinese New Year resolution, I promise to write more. And it's not that I lack dedication, but that I lack inspiration. It's not even a case of severe writer's block, but my mood and just my being as of late. Maybe even the weather. Oh well, time to stop dwelling on what is or was and focus on what will be....

    So people, here I am again, back in the Middle Kingdom. Despite its name, this place is not overrun by hobbits and elves but by tuk-tuks and food stands of stinky tofu. Yes, I am back in China, the middle kingdom, a place that has buildings older than my country. And while I am in a different city, it seems to mirror all the other Chinese cities. Nothing about any particular city really stands out to me. No real special character, only different sights and sometimes culinary specialities. The people are the same, the sounds in the street are the same and even the food is generally the same. Maybe because America is so vastly different that I expect something new from every Chinese city I go. Well, I guess that isn't entirely so. This city lacks foreigners so I am gawked at a lot more than usual. The last city we lived in last year had plenty of Lao wai (foreigners) so we weren't really anything too special there but here! I see so few and the ones I do see are usually much older than myself and my entourage. Mostly businessman and future investors, not so many teachers, which is great for me because it increases my worth :) Additionally, this go-round we have multiplied as Floridians. Apartment dwellers of E1905 consist of myself, Chris, Bradley, Caitlyn, and Mike. So when people see our Anglo-modsquad marching down the street decked out in orange and blue, I think we may be a little frightening. I imagine the people that live in our complex saying, "there goes the neighborhood..."

My goal is to blog atleast once a week but to write everyday, whether it be for my novel (that I WILL finish!) or just for myself. Atleast one hour of uninterrupted, writing me-time daily is required both for my sanity and to sharpen my skills. So Readers, thank you for your attention and dedication, I promise to work on mine. Interesting stuff to come!

Here is a map of China...
The blue circle is where I live now. Black circles are where I have lived before and the green circles are  the bigger cities I've been to. Still have lots to cover!

Looking through saved and incomplete drafts...

From sometime in January 2012...


Breakthrough. Robert has begun to speak English! Its amazing. I'm actually getting through to him. He hasn't been ignoring me this whole time. Just because he isn't mindlessly repeating me like many other students or interacting with me, he's still listening. Absorbing in silence. Is he onto something? Has he discovered a new technique to learning a new language. When we first started our 3 times a week sessions, I thought for sure he was autistic. When we weren't sword fighting or blowing each up with imaginary guns, he quietly played with blocks and listened to me talk.

Yesterday, he really opened up. We've been reading a book he really likes about robots. One picture in the book is of a mouse standing on a stool about to fall off. Robert pointed to it and said "be careful," a phrase I often say to him when he's doing something that makes me nervous.

I mean, why would this 4 year old child rather study than play? Why would he want to talk to this strange girl that shows up (usually late) to his house every other evening and asks him stupid questions?

Preparing for Reverse Culture Shock

Having traveled abroad previously has made this recent excursion "easier" than before. Perhaps knowing what to expect and the luxury of having a kitchen, has made this trip seem almost less like traveling and more like taking a step away from US life and into my alternate life that is China. What I call easier, apparently is defined by "reverse culture shock." I certainly experienced these symptoms last time I went home, and believe it is a more painful process than actual culture shock. Of course, being home with my family and friends is really nice and its great to catch up on all the lost time but after the initial stun of being home and hearing stories, you face a lull. Depression sets in, rebuilding your life is difficult, picking up is impossible; one must start from scratch. Last time I went home, I was also faced with several heavy situations, so I partly blame that and hope this time will be different. Also, its always a little embarrassing when you randomly speak Chinese to a sales clerk or waitress. Screaming "Fuyuan!" at the top of your lungs and waving your arm incessantly at your server, is not how you get your check, just dirty looks. Finding a job that will hire a 28 year old that has been out of work for 8 months is also a challenge. But I do not blog to gain sympathy, just to share. Preparing for these symptoms of depression; feelings of "what am I doing with my life" and the inevitable constipation (American food is so bonding!), I brace myself and go into American borders less blinded than before and more with the knowledge that this will happen and I'm not just a singled out mess. I go home with hope and the mind set of new beginnings. Although, I also think back to when I went home last time and remember how happy my grandma's were to see me. Nana in her hospice bed and slipping into delirium, remembered I told her I'd be home soon. And Grandma was so happy to me she cried! I will miss wandering home and into their arms, but I still have my mommy and my daddy! That will also probably cry upon my return. And of course Joey and Haley, who won't cry but will take me out drinking instead! Despite the dreaded reverse culture shock and all the things it brings, I can't wait to be with my family again, and of course, Millie!!

Teaching Abroad

       Children. In all their nose-picking and tear-filled screaming, I have found a strange love for them. Monsters. They can change my, "what is wrong with these strangely small people," to "how are you so freaking cute?" Daily, I ask myself, "Self, why are you a teacher? Why do you surround yourself with these ignorant midgets?" And then little Peter, Grace, or even Dolphin (yes, that is his English name) remind me.

"No, No, No. No touching!" Dolphin says to me while pointing to the scissors on my desk. Yes, very good. Now, if I can only get him to express his own thoughts in English and not just repeat me like a parrot. But he's come along way since the first week of school, when everyday was characterized by screaming tears and throwing up his morning milk. Dolphin has perhaps become my favorite student.
When he points to something and says, "This is blue." Something alights inside me and I feel a sense of worth as a teacher. I am somehow shaping these beings into English speaking, well-mannered, and color naming people. And this is why I teach. At the end of my day (yes, noon. Sorry 9-5ers), when I'm tucking these little Chinese angels into their naptime beds, I feel this strange feeling I've never felt before. And the only word I can think to describe it is maternal. I still don't want children, but don't feel completely freaked out by the idea. I enjoy wiping their snot ridden faces and even reminding them to wash their hands. I like shoveling food into their mouths and especially love tucking them in like a bug in a rug and wishing them sweet dreams before they doze off. But at the end of the day, I still get to come home to my child-free apartment where the only person I'm responsible for is myself. But when I took my vacation, I still find myself wondering about them. Is my fill-in teacher taking care of them like I do? Is she wiping away their tears and then doing something silly to make them smile? Is she helping them eat, or just yelling at them for eating slowly like their Chinese teacher? Is she tucking them before naptime or just pointing them to their bed and telling them to "Lie down!" And most importantly, is she getting as grossed out as I do when they bring her boogers?
                              Nonetheless, being a teacher has changed me.

Bangkok: City of life

        
                    A bustling megalopolis, Thailand's capital is not only tourist driven and overrun by foreigners, but holds within its city limits something so culturally charming. The streets are polluted with vendors and tuk-tuk drivers demanding your business, and every other small shop features some Middle Eastern merchant insisting you buy a suit. But if you can see past these sometimes annoying small business owners, you find yourself lost in what you may only see in movies. Quintessential alleys with small, sit outside, mama's cooking, cafes with lovely gardens, beautiful archways leading to centuries old temples and more modern places of worship. The less frequently you hear, "Hello, taxi!" or "Where are you going?" the deeper you are getting into Thailand. 

  I've found the only way to truly find amazing things, is to get lost. Leave the map at home (or in our case, leave it on the counter by mistake at a string shop; my bad). But having gotten remarkably lost and walking in no particular direction for several hours, we stumbled upon something amazing and sentimental. Chris' father's "go-to" jewelry shop. The place he bought all of his wife's jewelry. The place he probably stood on the same day as we, several years prior. Unfortunately, the shop was closed due to the impending floods, but nonetheless, we stood on the stoop and admired the shop's significance.

Bangkok has many sights and "must sees" to offer but walking amongst the locals and eating the freakishly delicious food is really all you "must do!" Unlike China, every food vendor smelled remarkable and the dishes were breathtaking. No exaggeration! I literally held my breath so that I could continue to eat as much and as fast as I could, like I just got out of jail or someone would snatch my dish away at any minute. But read more about the food in my food blog. Link there --->

Things traveling has taught me...

How to take a city bus.
How to take a long distance bus.
How to sufficiently travel with no real plan.
To get lost and realize that you are going to end up exactly where you are meant to be.
How to learn (and butcher) new languages.
Toleration.
How to cross boarders.
How to be a teacher.
That strangers offer the best insight.
That people do different things and its okay.
Being resourceful is one of my best attributes.
Sometimes reading Chinese is easier than speaking it.
My body can tolerate a lot more than I give it credit for.
The 5 second rule is true.
That air drying your clothes not only is better for the environment but is good for your clothes too.
Things about refrigeration and cleanliness when handling food isn't as necessary as we're told.
That Starbucks is awesome in every country.
Sometimes where you sleep won't be the cleanest (or the softest!!)
Not to drink water from the shower.
Eggs don't have to be refrigerated.
No matter how far away I am, I am always part of my family.
That being so far away from my family sometimes makes me feel like something has been ripped out of my body.
Getting lost is essential.
Trying new food (even food you're pretty confident you won't like).
How to bring a jasmine plant back to life after killing it.
How to pee squatting without always getting pee on your feet.
How to talk yourself out of panic attacks (and just get them less).
Independence.
One should never leave the house without a pen and paper.
That I can be happy in any situation I find myself in.

Marketplace Labyrinth

      Strolling through the busy shopping streets that is Zhongshan Lu, I decide to venture down a less beaten path. Immediately, I am pleasantly rewarded with a colorful market street. Curiously, I walk deeper in. Both sides aligned with fresh produce and recently killed meats. Bright green melons, perfectly pink dragon fruit, and little wooden buckets filled with different types of rice. I continue down the umbrella shaded alleyway and soon find out that this path is quite beaten. Many Xiamen locals (no foreigners) frequent this area to buy their fruits and vegetables, meats and seafood. It becomes louder with each step taken deeper in. Laobans (sellers) screaming prices and showing quality to the dozens of customers. And then, I'm confronted with a smell. Seafood. But not quite seafood yet. Still just fish. Fish so fresh its still swimming. On either side of me were containers filled with water and every type of sea creature I can imagine, most still alive. Red buckets and bins crowded with swimming eels or some sort of almost glowing teal shellfish. Trays of raw squid on ice or crawling crabs, claws taped together for safety reasons, and fish heads and guts are set aside to be sold as parts.
     Fresh poultry can also be found within the Zhongshan marketplace. Littered between the fish and vegetable stands are cages of raised (or caught) pigeons, chickens, ducks, and geese. Tables of already killed birds, feathered and skinned if you like, or split open and de-organed per your preferences are also found in this area. Meat cleaver wielding stand owners chop off heads left and right and dogs linger looking for handouts or the dropped.
     However, on extraordinarily hot days (which is everyday!) this marketplace gets very smelly! The pungent fish odor becomes suffocating. I force myself to walk briskly through this never ending market. Every so often, I get some reprieve from a garlic and ginger stand, where I take this time to take in another breath to hold as long as I can. Finally, I find an exit to this rather long, straight street. I turn right onto another alley only to find myself still under the sea of umbrellas. I try to look ahead for an escape but only see stand after stand with no end in sight. No light at the end of this tunnel and no solace for my nose. Like a venus fly trap it lured me in with pretty colors and delicious looking fruits only to hold me captive in its inner windings and streets of stench. Succumbing to the smelly mess I've gotten myself into, I hold my breath as long as possible, refusing to breath through my mouth. While I pick up the pace, I have to remember to walk carefully. Wearing flip flops through a wet fish market is never a good idea. It is easy for one to flip dirty, sidewalk water onto the backs of one's legs or to flop said water onto the feet.

Finally! I see cars ahead and passing busses. The End! I'm free! As I escape the market place's fierce grasp, I gasp for fresh air like I've been underwater too long. Ah, at last. While a very neat and lively area, I will remember to only go on cooler days.

Reminders and last resorts...

So here I sit. Well, squat.

Stomach pains? Check.

Uncontrollable bowels? Check.

No toilet paper? Check.

Yep. I'm back in China. A little panicked that I may have a heat stroke at any moment in this sweltering mall bathroom stall, I remind myself I've done this all before. Am I crying? No. That's my eyelid sweat blurring my vision. I didn't even know my eyelids could sweat.

Traveling equals creativity. What do I have in my mini backpack I could function as toilet paper? Which item would be most palatable for my ass? And where can I buy tissues when I finally escape this hot ass bathroom? How could I have forgotten this aspect of traveling and left myself so unprepared?

Ah, an article by a Jonathan Swift in a magazine I swiped from our hostel will have to do. I wonder how he would feel if he knew that instead of reading his article, a foreigner somewhere in a hot mall bathroom in Shanghai is wiping her ass with it.

Walking out of the bathroom, I feel lighter, violated and one potentially interesting article shorter. Thank you Jonathan Swift, you really helped me in a bind :)

China: part deux

Walking up the stairs from the subway, I am hit with the smell of something spicy. It’s a foreign smell but is all too familiar. The harsh aroma of Chinese spices and stir fried something or another slaps me in the face. Stinky tofu and roasting nuts vendors align the streets. Obnoxious entrepreneurs hastily walked up to me throwing there goods in my face trying to get me to purchase. Am I back so soon? Or did I just never leave? Was my 7 month sabbatical back home to the states a dream that I am just now waking up from? I will never know for sure. I lost my consciousness somewhere on the plane. That 11-hour flight seemed to drag longer than they usually do. I swear with every hour that ticked by, I lost an hour of my life. When I waddled off the plane (and I do mean waddle, my legs swell up like a fat infants’) and cart my 100 plus pounds of luggage, I realize time stopped when I left. I live two alternating lives. Here, on this side of the world, I am one person. A person that loosens her grip on control, lets things happen. No plan, no worries. But the other girl, the one that lives in the US time zone…She’s scared. She tries to hold on tightly to her ever-slipping grip on control. She panics, worries. Tries to amount to unrealistic expectations but fails.

As I lay awake here in my wooden bunk (top bed!) I grow excited to see what this foreign (but familiar) land may offer me. Its 4 am, is Starbucks open yet??

More on this past year...But mostly just about my Grams

Well, after eating every thing in my American sight, I certainly put back on any weight I lost plus some. I'm at an all time high of just over 150 L-Bs! AND I go to the gym (also a first) almost every day! What the F?? I've cut back drinking and started eating better but for some strange strange reason, its much easier to put on the weight than to lose it! But I digress...

Shortly after arriving back home, we transported my Grams up to Gainesville to stay at my mom's. While I had an apartment elsewhere with Chris and my roommate, Stefy, I spent most to all of my time at my mamma's taking care of Grandma. She and I, although suffered our differences, were always extremely close! The only person to have read every page of this blog and beg for more, I'm devastated to say I have lost some viewership. She passed into Heaven or the great who knows where a little over two months ago. We managed to care for her for the very last four months of her life. It was an honor for me. While some days were worse than the others and could be very taxing, I often reminded myself of everything she did for me. Cooking and cutting her lunch, helping her bathe and go to the bathroom, setting her up to brush her teeth, lying with her and comforting her when she felt scared or alone; it's all so bittersweet. I'm so thankful I was able to return only some of what she ever did for me.

When she passed, it didn't hit me for days later. In fact, the two weeks while she rapidly declined, my presents at the house also declined. One, I was needed a lot less with the increased family in attendance and two, it was just to tragic! The day after she died, I was fine...until I went back to my mom's to help pack up her things and clean. Sitting in her room, I became despondent. Helping the Hospice equipment guy clumsily load her deathbed into the back of his rapist van, brought reality crashing on top of me, trapping me between it and the ground until I felt claustrophobic. I finally found an out and left, oh yeah, I had to work.

The next day, my aunt and cousins asked me to help with her obit. Regardless of my reluctance to assistance with such a strange request (I will go into the absurdity of obituaries later), I received an email and was asked to edit and or add. I read, approved and then cried. Not much of a crier, I didn't stop crying for several hours later. I took this opportunity of feelings to write her eulogy (which per her request over a year ago, I write and read at her funeral. Morbid, I know, but what an an honor!) And through the whole process, just when I felt I couldn't feel or cry anymore, Norah Jones would bust out on Pandora and then I would start over. But several pages and hundreds of words later, I had some editing to do. Finally, the eve of her funeral, her eulogy was complete! I wish she could have heard it, cause as my number one fan, she would have loved it!

Okay, more on this later...I gotta ride. Its Taco Tuesday.

Thinking about the idea that the main (if only) person that read this was my Grandma, makes me wonder why I'm writing this. Is there internet in Heaven?

In this last year...

Well, the rumors are true...I'm a slacker. Its been just over a year since I have submitted my last blog. And a lot has happened. After my last submission, I boarded the next plane to Seoul, Republic of Korea where I was greeted by strangers, American, but strange. Well, first I was greeted by Koreans but an hour long bus ride and panicked moments of searching for a phone, I met my couchsurfing hosts. They were awesome! They took me to have my first Korean meal in months and my first REALLY Korean korean meal! It was fabulous! Then I celebrated my first Canada day which I have to admit was crazy, son! Turned out, my hosts party as much as I do! I lost my beloved havainas by taking them off to get on a table to dance...go figure. However, I managed to find a different pair..same size! I guess the girl that swiped mine also had great taste. The next day, I suffered through a pretty bad hangover while my host went to teach. Later, that night I was met by my best friend, Julia and Tina!! Let me just say, that weekend was epic! Perhaps, at a later date, I will tell my travel stories in detail, but for now...I only give highlights. Left Korea two months later to meet Chris in China. Twas awesome!

I came home Christmas Eve, spent the night with my best friend, Erica, in Orlando. Daddy and Haley picked me up the next day and we went to Daytona. Tragically, my Nana died three days later. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to see her one last time and tell her I love her and goodbye. I spent the last days of her life with her. The morning she died, I woke up just moments before she took her last breath. I woke up my dad and said, "Dad, its time..." We, plus my aunt, held her hands and comforted her as she headed toward the light or whatever it is we see when we die.

After we got everything taken care of there, we went to my other grandma's. She greeted me in tears and was sooo happy I was home! I was so happy to see her as well. Especially since her health was declining...ta de shenti bu hao....okay, I have to run...to be continued! I promise!

We're all living in Amerika...

So I don't know any other way to begin writing other than ...Wow.
I am completely dumbfounded.

Sitting three floors away from the Earth in my friend's adorable one bedroom, I listen to the Istanbul noise. I hear people below talking, Turkish music in the distance, and a man yelling something foreign to me. The breeze is brilliant and the sun shining. All these things I would typically enjoy, I cannot find peace. I am haunted by last night's conversations. My Turkish friends confronted me with something I wasn't expecting on this trip. And why I was so surprised, I am unsure. I knew the rest of the world hated America. We learn that in school, through the news and through casual political discussions. So why was I so surprised? I guess to hear it first hand, in your presence, directly from someone's lips can change everything.
"I hate America."
"Surely you don't hate America. You mean their government..."
Well, he didn't hate American people it turned out. But everything else...especially baseball.
I tried to explain to him that I didn't hate Cuba, but I hated Castro, that he should reword his statement. But he stood firm. He hated America. This wasn't the view of one individual, but all participants in the conversation. The heated discussion continued for over an hour. Michael Moore was the hot topic. Having never seen his documentaries, I was a little caught off guard. I tried to defend my point by saying Michael Moore is biased and extremely leftist. Their entire argument was propelled by Moore's theories. I was so frustrated trying to defend my home against three people and Michael Moore. I don't understand how someone can make such accusations about their own country. Apparently in one of his films, he claims 911 was a lie. A lie in the sense, and this is what I came to understand, that it was created by our government. Does he not realize the mindset he is shaping for the rest of the world? When I heard this being explained to me, it broke my heart. I tried to illustrate to my friends just how devastating and terrifying this day was for us, but simply could not put it into words they would understand.

I became so heart sick I had to end the conversation. Very firmly I said "I don't want to talk about this anymore!!" My friend said he would burn a copy of Moore's film for me and I said No...I don't ever want to watch it. As if I didn't take enough American bashing for one day, we went on to watch a Rammstein video appropriately named "America"
I learned this video is banned in Turkey. There is a brief scene where a Muslim man removes his shoes and steps onto a carpet. You watch him traditionally kneel to pray and find out he is praying to petrol. This video disturbed me too. Especially where the band members (dressed as astronauts) hold hands and dance around the American flag. I am going to try to add the video to this post but I'm not sure if it will carry over...but you can certainly Youtube it.

Its shocking the feeling... when your whole world gets turned upside down. I recommend it once in one's life. To be truly mind fucked.

I had never felt more homesick than I did last night. I miss baseball and hotdogs (and pork!) and American football. I miss reality shows and fast food, I miss capitalism and air condition.
I'm starting to feel sad I will be spending my Independence day in South Korea. But I cannot be weak now. I'm only two months in and have a while to go. Perhaps I can just pretend I am at Epcot.

oh well, I love you America and see you soon!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9P7Zd-x2QXw

Istanbul

As it nears the end of my time in Turkey, I have found myself back in Istanbul. The life of Turkey, they call it "the place where two continents meet!" Its a very exciting and busy city. Much like New York, I often forget I'm in another country, although I have been now for over two months. Sometimes walking down the streets in Taksim, I look up and feel America again. Of course that is until a woman completely covered in traditional Muslim garb tries to sell me tissues for a lira, pleading with me in Turkish. Ok I remember now...I am not back home but clear across the world.

When walking through Taksim, one must leave the ipod at home. Not only because it will probably be swiped from your hand but because you will miss all the sounds of Istanbul. A man playing some kind of turkish clarinet, a woman singing opera to her accordian accompaniment, and a man selling strange bird callers you put in your mouth. None of the senses get left out when walking down Istikla. a busy shopping street in Taksim. The various Doner shops entice their customers with their steaming stake of beef or chicken. The smell of roasted wall nuts from a nearby stand tickles my nose and makes me hold my breath. I don't really care for that aroma cause it smells like burnt popcorn.

Occasionally there are narrow passages amongst the tall buildings featuring miniature bazaars. Sometimes these areas go deep and down into the buildings and are always full of people. The walls laden with a rainbow of silk and cotton scarves, tables covered with silver and various stones and gems all molded into jewelery. My eyes are busy and my hands are curious. I must touch everything forgetting that the moment you touch something, the shop's proprietor is invited to harrass you to purchase something. If not careful, you may find yourself covered in rings and bracelets the owner thinks will suit you. Try not to linger, never look twice and definately don't touch if you do not what to be bothered.

Istanbul is delightfully historic but curiously modern. You can have coffee at Starbucks blocks away from the Hagia Sofia, a former basilica completed in 537 CE. Walking through the antique section of the bazaar amongst old trinkets and knick knacks, you can hear Black Eyed peas being played in the distance.

I have not yet been to any of the historic sites but anticipate doing so this week. We will see what the city offers for me tomorrow...but for now, lets drink!