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 :)