Where are the Good Bars?

Facebook is a wonderful thing for someone who travels.  It allows you to easily keep in contact with virtually everyone you know, and it keeps you up to date with their everyday thoughts, pictures and events.  An email is great, but so many people find that their typical days are status-update worthy, but not send-a-letter-about-it worthy.  When you’re gone you want the everyday details of life, to feel as if you’re sitting across from them with a cold beer or a cup of coffee sharing your stories.  Facebook is also fantastic for the traveler for gathering information about a certain place, getting great tips on what to do and what not to do, and it gives you the chance to meet new people.

When I first moved to Dongtan, South Korea I found a group called the “Dongtan Clan” on Facebook, and I posted that I was new in town and if anyone wanted to get together I would love to meet them and get to know the area.  This post led me to meeting some awesome people who are now my very good friends.  Naturally, when I came to Geoje Island I found a Geoje’s Teacher’s Group on Facebook and joined.  Last night I wrote on the group wall asking where the good bars are around the city, figuring that this was a good way to meet people and weed out the lame bars from the good ones.

I soon got a reply from a guy named James saying, “There are lots of churches, I suggest you cleanse your soul with prayer instead of wrecking your body with alcohol and destroying your life with shame! I’ll pray for you my child…….go in peace!”

Now, it’s not like I don’t have a sense of humor.  I can see that the guy is joking around; however, he didn’t offer up any useful information while he was ‘kidding.’  So I replied saying, “Actually, I was just talking with my roommate about going to church on Sunday in Okpo because I heard that there was a good foreign service.  With that being said, where are the good bars?”

To which he replied again, “Going to okpo? voluntarily? Don’t bother praying…. God hates you!”

Seriously, man?  Number one, I don’t know you.  Number two, it would be acceptable if you said the first thing and then added something like “but if you insist on living in sin these are the good places to go for a drink.”  At least then you would be helpful, get to add your ‘humor’ and have an actual reason for replying to my post in the first place.  My only conclusion now is that you’re a jackass.  Part of my brain said, it’s fine, leave it alone, he was just being funny.  The other part of my brain said, but you don’t think that it’s funny.  You actually think that it’s rude and his comment served no purpose other than to be discourteous and obnoxious.  That side of my brain won out and I replied back with, “Cool, so your hilarious form of judgment won’t be there? Okpo sounds even better.”

After sending that post the first part of my brain said, “Way to go; now you really won’t have any friends.  You should have just left it alone.  He was only being funny.”  What part of the brain is that, anyway?  The self-conscious middle schooler living inside of your head wanting everyone to like you, shying away from having your own opinions and your ability to express them just so that you seem agreeable?  But that’s not who I am.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t go around looking to be disagreeable or confrontational, but if he feels that he has the right to be obnoxious multiple times on a simple post, I feel that I have the right to respond.

Talking with Renee I told her that I was missing having a group of friends, and what if all the foreigners here sucked like this guy?  Her response was that she was sure that they aren’t all like that, and even if they are we can go to Seoul every weekend to be with our group of friends up there if that’s what we want to do.  She pointed out that it takes time to meet new people and to find that golden group, that it will happen for us and that we just have to be patient.  These things I already knew, but it was good to hear someone else say the words out loud.

The point is, I know that there are some cool people around here.  I also know that there will always be that guy wherever you go.  I’ve know that guy my whole life.  He was in elementary school, middle school and high school.  He was in all of my jobs, he was in Dongtan, and now I’ve found that guy here in Geoje.  That guy is crude, thinks that he is hilarious, and he has nothing really positive or truly helpful to add to a conversation.  Although that guy can irritate you to no end, it gives you the opportunity to see what you will tolerate and how you handle yourself in those situations.  Will you respond by becoming just as obnoxious in your arguments?  Will you laugh along with that guy although you’re actually offended and screaming inside?  Will you just ignore him?  That guy will be popping up in your life forever, and you should be proud of the way you handle yourself in those situations.  If you’re not proud of your reactions, what can you do to change?  You can’t change someone else or force them to see that they’re an ass hole, but you can change how you deal with an issue.

I leave you with a few good words I’ve collected on Pinterest.

Codi Teacher

My six year old class

As time is seemingly flying by in this year (it’s already May??), I have been on the island working at ISponge English for almost two months now.  I can definitely say that I enjoy working at this school more than the one in Dongtan.  This is a much smaller school with about seventeen kindergarteners and about thirty after school elementary students, compared to the one hundred and ten or so kindergarteners at Wiz Island.  We have five main teachers, our two bosses, a cook and one part-time afterschool teacher, most of whom speak great English.  At this school I feel like an actual teacher, not just the token foreign girl who is there to play with the kids, pose for the parents and be another warm body to watch over the children.  Here I have my own classroom with my own kids and my own responsibilities.  I dole out the kids lunches, I make sure they eat, I check some of their homework, I make sure their bags are packed and ready to go home, I get to decorate the classroom, and I am respected as an authority figure by both the students and the other teachers.

Last year I was scared and nervous and wanted the children to like me.  It was also drilled into my brain that the kids should have a constant happy experience with the Native English teacher, and it should be “happy fun time” with Codi Teacher as opposed to “sit down, do your work, listen and respect your teacher while also having fun” time.  I didn’t know how to establish myself to the children, and therefore I wasn’t exactly taken seriously as an authoritative figure.  There would be hours sometimes (usually on Friday’s during our play day) where I had to actually just sit and play with the kids.  I know that this sounds awesome and breezy, but it’s just not.  Number one, all of the students pretty much just want to play with the other students.  Also, there’s that awesome language barrier so the kids didn’t really want to make the extreme effort of learning while they were playing with me (how weird).  But really, I did not move to South Korea to sit on my butt and be a glorified babysitter.  I came to have a job and be a teacher and start a life here – not to dance around the classroom like a monkey trying to get students to play dolls or blocks with me, which I really didn’t want to do in the first place.  I also wasn’t really given the chance to help out with things around the school like attend the meetings, help prepare for an activity or get the students organized.  Because only two other teachers could speak English well enough to communicate with me, I became more of a pain in the ass when trying to help than actually being helpful.  It was frustrating and I often felt seriously useless, in the way and out of the loop.  Now, don’t get me wrong – all of the teachers were sweet as pie and tried to include me in everything; however, that usually meant outings and dinners where I would sit there in silence lost in my own little world while everyone else chatted it up and had a great time in Korean for hours.  Someone would lean over and say something like “we’re talking about plastic surgery”, which I had already gathered by all of the hand gestures and tugging at their faces; however, that was the extent of my end of the conversation.  They tried to get me to go on a few getaway weekends, but I seriously avoided that at all costs.  Sitting through a five hour dinner not understanding anything was bad enough, but to spend an entire weekend away with these people sounded like slow and unnecessary torture.  It got to the point where I had a list of excuses lined up in my head as to why I couldn’t attend one weekend getaway or another.

“Oh, as much as I would love to spend the weekend at the waterpark in my bathing suit with fifteen tiny Asians who in total make up my mass bodyweight, and no one speaks English so I pretty much sit there by myself and wish away my weekend to only see you people again the very next day and start the workweek all over again, I already bought tickets to this event with my friends and it’s nonrefundable.  Bummer though!”

I know that this sounds harsh, but seriously.  I made some amazing friends my first round in Korea, and let me tell you that these people are not around forever.  There is a continuous stream of people coming in and going out of your life, and I would rather spend my time with them, those who know and love my heart, rather than be miserable with fifteen people who have no idea who I am or where I come from.  The hardest thing about leaving that job in October was giving up that gorgeous apartment that made the job seem worth enduring.

There are a few key things that I’ve learned so far about being a teacher.

You can’t hold a grudge against a student.  I know that this sounds obvious, but until you’re faced with it you don’t realize how much willpower and control that actually takes.  A child can be a total brat, refusing to do their work and making your life absolutely miserable one minute, and then turn around and be sweet as pie and a perfect little angel the next.  All you can do is speak to them about their bad behavior in the moment or send them out of the classroom, and when they start acting right again you have to totally forget about the issue that made you so frustrated before, put a smile on your face and praise them like you normally would.  And that can be hard, man!

You must go in and establish your authority.  Last year I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want to be “mean” to the kids, and the other teachers didn’t really seem to think that it was my duty to discipline them (remember, I was happy fun time teacher).  My suggestion is make them feel super welcome.  This year with my little six year olds I gave them hugs, picked them up and shook them around, made them laugh, tickled them, had fun; however, once class started and a student thought that it would be funny to act up, I put an end to it immediately.  No more smiles, my voice went deeper and I made long-lasting eye contact and let them know that what they were doing was unacceptable.  Once they see that you are serious, you should then move on with a smile on your face and basically forget about it.  You should do this each and every time an issue comes up, otherwise you will have a classroom full of small children thinking that they can get out of their seats, run around and talk over you.  And if you haven’t really established your place right up front it can take you a long time to get there.

As a teacher of small children you have to give up all shame.  You have to think of a million ways to keep these students engaged, and that often means singing, dancing and waving around like a crazy person.  You have to have endless amounts of energy, and when you think your energy is all gone, you get to dig in deeper and find some more and put a smile on your face while roaring like a lion or jumping around with your hands scratching at your pits like a monkey.

Yes, my friends, this is the golden life of a kindergarten teacher (and a parent I would imagine, only on a much more intense, long-term level).

As I said earlier though, I have learned from my previous mistakes, placed myself in a school better suited for me, and I’m enjoying teaching more than before.  I can see myself doing this for a few more years and really enjoying it.  Until, that is, I’m ready to be done and move on to something else.

Aside from teaching, Renee and I have been settling in and adjusting nicely.  We’ve also been exploring our area and the island, traveling to Oedo Botanical Garden by way of ferry, stopping at a large rock formation in the sea called Haegeumgang with our friend, Norah, who came to visit for the weekend.  It was the perfect weather and we saw some beautiful sights.

Haegeumgang. Our boat went between the rocks through the crack on the left side.

View on Oedo island, the botanical gardens.

View on Oedo botanical garden.

This weekend is also very beautiful, but it feels great to be lounging around inside with all of the windows open, letting the breeze in and catching up on some reading.  Also, payday is coming up and we are currently short on cash (teachers here get paid once a month, so the third week is usually a bit tight), therefore, I’m happy to take advantage of this lazy weekend and let my heart, mind and body restore its happiness, energy and patience for the upcoming week.

 

Sue, 5 years old. Crashing after an awesome day at the park.
“Remember, rest is different from collapse. Collapse is rest that has been pushed past its limit.”
Enjoy your weekends.

 

 

My Four Month Vacation at Home

"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned." -Maya Angelou. South Haven, Lake Michigan.

It’s Sunday morning in Geoje Island, South Korea and I woke up at about 8:30 a.m. to the sun shining and a craving for coffee. As I made my instant cup and cleaned up the dishes from our budae jjigae dinner last night, I realized that I can finally sit, breathe and write. Get ready people, this is a long one.

The Good Ol’ (sometimes creepy) South

I left Dongtan, South Korea in October 2011 with the intent to return by December or January; however, as life would have it, my plans changed. After a week of being home and getting my sleep schedule right (fourteen hours takes a bit of adjustment), I flew down to Houston, TX to see Renee after being apart for six weeks. Because my brother, Bryan, works for United Airlines I got a cheaper ticket; however, I would have to fly standby the entire way from Grand Rapids, MI to Chicago, IL and then to Houston, TX. I got to the airport early in the morning to find that the flight was full. And the next flight. And the next. I sat at the small airport for eight hours until I finally landed the last seat on one of the planes. By this time I had missed my connecting flights, so I had called the airline ahead of time to make sure there were others. I was reassured that there were plenty of open seats with plenty of flights to those destinations, so I got on the plane. Once I got to Chicago I discovered that I had been misinformed and I did not qualify to get on the United Continental flights that I had been quoted because United Air and United Continental were in the middle of merging their companies and I could not use their flights. I had also just missed any opportunity to get to Houston on United Air. With that information I started to tear up and… well… sob to the person behind the desk, which made him quite uncomfortable and in a frenzy to stop my tears he promised to get me to Houston that night. He found a flight going from Chicago to Dallas to Houston, and I joked with Renee that if she had a car she should just come pick me up in Dallas and make the three hour drive. When I finally landed in Dallas and waited for my connecting flight to Houston I treated myself to a burger and a bloody mary. I checked my iPod touch which said that I was in Washington, D.C. and I laughed at how unreliable technology can be these days. My phone rang and my confused dad on the other line said that he had tracked my flight and it looked like I was in Dulles airport in D.C. I laughed and said no, I was definitely in Dallas. To reassure him I turned to the girl in the booth sitting next to me and asked, “What city am I in?” Clearly overhearing my conversation she goes, “honey, you’re in Washington, D.C.” Of course I was. The booth of men in front of me laughed and asked if I had had a long day. Something like that. In the midst of my tears all I heard was “Dallas to Houston” instead of “Dulles to Houston.” Why couldn’t they say “D.C. to Houston” or “Dulles to Bush International”? I’m blaming this on the airlines poor choice of sequential vocabulary, of course. Finally, around 12:30 a.m. I got into Houston (thankfully Renee did not drive to Dallas!), ruining the plans Renee had for my arrival (being twelve hours late), but was happy to be with her nonetheless.

We relaxed in Houston for a few days then hit the road to visit my friends, family and old home in Arizona. I l-o-v-e a good road trip, and I was excited to see what Texas had to offer! We drove from Houston to Albuquerque, NM in a day and then to Mesa, AZ stopping in Greer (my home for almost a year) the next. The drive through Texas was a bit flat and boring, but I saw a lot of oil rigs on the side of the road and lots of flat land and little towns. The next day we drove on the back roads of New Mexico around canyons on slightly icy roads and finally into my old stomping grounds in northeastern Arizona. Oh, it was good to be back. I had lunch with my darling love, Whitney and her boyfriend (now fiancé!) at a café that I frequented when I lived there, visited her family, then went up to the ranch to visit my old coworkers and the peaceful, beautiful landscape. I yearned to stay longer, to bask in the afterglow of the place that once restored my soul; however, we had a canyon to drive through and it would have been a shame to drive through it in the dark and miss all the awesomeness of Salt River Canyon. Turns out it was the perfect time to make the drive because as we were coming out of Devil’s Canyon (the second and smaller canyon of the drive) the sun was setting and the sky was splashed with purple, pink, red and orange hues mixing and layering together. It was breathtaking. We soon arrived at my family’s house, and it was a welcomed reunion. Unfortunately because my time in the south was limited we could only stay for two days. It was sad to go after such a short time, but it was better to see their faces than not at all.

On the way back to Houston we decided to take a route about four hours out of the way because we had been advised by EVERYONE that driving through El Paso was a terrible idea due to the drug lords and cartel that had been running the highways. This gave us a chance to see more of New Mexico, which turned out to be half beautiful and half creepy. Once we went over the mountains in southern New Mexico and into the White Sands Missile Range we were in a valley of white sand and nothingness; however, some weird flags went up in my head. For one, we were the only non-government vehicle on the road. Two, there was a little wire fence lining the entire highway with signs that said “DO NOT STOP YOUR CAR. GOVERNMENT PROPERTY.” Three, although there were no buildings or anything in sight besides sand, there were power lines that went on for miles and miles with a huge water reservoir at the end of them. And finally, without any warning there were orange cones in the middle of the road directing your car to this tiny booth with cameras everywhere and a sign that read “Boarder Patrol”. Even weirder was that we were nowhere near a boarder. Just to make an odd day even crazier we spent the night in Roswell, NM, known for the alleged UFO crash in 1947, and every shop window had some sort of alien theme to it. Needless to say we woke up early in the morning and got the hell out of New Mexico.

The rest of my time in Houston was spent meeting Renee’s awesome family and friends and eating Dim Sum and Peking Duck with her mother and sister. After being delayed for a day getting back to Michigan and randomly bursting into tears at the thought of being away from Renee for another six weeks or so, I was back in the mitten.

Michigan: America’s High Five

Alex, Keegan, Mom, Kim, Me, Renee

I sat in my bedroom looking from my suitcases to my closet. The realization that I would no longer be living out of bags and I would be home for a few months hit me with panic. I was so excited about being back home so why all this angst? I laid my thoughts out on the table and came up with this: not only was my home a place filled with friends, family and love, but the past few years since college I associated being home with debt, illnesses, anxiety and the crazy itch to travel. Once I came to this realization I looked at my current situation: I saved enough money to pay my loans up through March, everyone was relatively healthy, and I knew that my next travel experience wasn’t too far down the road. Finally I could smile, take a breath and know that I could rebuild my associations of being home with goodness, rest and love. Another thing I had to remember was that although I was on “vacation” no one else was. I stepped back into everyone else’s life with all the grit and grime that U.S. economy has brought upon many of my friends, and even though my brain said, “No sadness or worry, we’re on vacation!” that didn’t apply to anyone else. It took a minute to come to that realization and to also realize that I couldn’t fix everyone’s problems for them. Once again, being home has its major adjustments, but it definitely proved to be worth it.

A lot of times I did not have access to a car (although my moms were amazingly gracious and handed over their keys any time they could) so I picked up my crocheting hooks, parked myself in front of the TV and computer and made many many scarves to give as Christmas gifts. I figured as long as I was being some kind of productive I didn’t feel so bad spending my days watching Will and Grace, The New Adventures of Old Christine, The Travel Channel and The Food Network. I can name a Friday night or two that I sat with my moms watching horrible Christmas movies on the Hallmark channel eating Nutty Bars and drinking tea. I also took advantage of having an oven (a luxury not provided in Korea) and did some baking. Cooking doesn’t make much sense to me unless I have extremely clear directions on what to do; however, baking seems obvious to me and it’s something that I really enjoy. I made a mental note to buy a tiny confection oven once I settled in Korea again.

Aside from being an awesome old lady I got to spend a lot of time with some of the loves of my life. I often went over to Amy and Matty’s house to visit with them and their baby boy, Cole. The last time I had seen Cole I was bouncing him on my leg and he had just started to crawl. When I saw him again after a year he was standing in his crib looking like a little boy rather than a baby, and he was speaking. I could no longer just scoop him up and cuddle him right away like before because he now had some sense of “Who the hell are you?” to him. Amy picked him up and brought him to the kitchen where she had posted my picture on the fridge, and throughout the year she would point and say “that’s Aunt Codi” so he definitely knew who I was. As he looked at the picture, he then looked at me. Then back to the picture. Then back to me. I could see the realization spread across his face and we quickly became best buds. I am absolutely nuts about that little boy, and he quickly came to love Renee as well when she came in January.

Cole playing with my scarf.

I also spent as much time as I could up in Grand Rapids seeing Jes and Molly and their little boy, Charlie, who is a few days older than Cole. That’s another little man that I love dearly. I also got to spend great time with one of my favorites from high school, Rachel, and one of my loves from Semester at Sea, Paul. A lot of my friends have moved out of the state, but it was definitely wonderful to be with Katelyn, visit with Kari when she came back for Christmas, and to hang with my girl Kling and her boyfriend and their wonderful dog, Red. With the time I got to spend with my friends back home it reinforced how much I love them all and how blessed I am to have these people in my life.

Rachel, Me and Renee at Lady Fest in Grand Rapids, MI.

Then came family time. I tried to see my brother and soon-to-be sister in law, Alex, as often as I could, loving every minute with them and their awesome dog, Bali. I also saw my dad regularly, and we would sit in Panera for hours talking about life, God, the future and other good things. Spending time with my mother was also extremely priceless. Whenever I am away I wish that she was just a few doors down so we could have coffee and dinner on the regular. As I have said before, my mom is my hero and my favorite person in the world. It absolutely breaks my heart to be away from her, but I am blessed to have a mother that knows what I need in life and trusts that I will make the right decisions. When I eventually settle down and have a house I will make her and Kim move just a few miles down the road, if not right next door.

Alex, Keegan, Dad, Me, Renee.

Mom always has a hard time taking our picture...

한국 안녕하세요! (Hello, Korea!)

The process of getting back to the ROK was not as easy as we had imagined. Because the public school system in Korea started pushing out foreigners to replace them with Koreans who know English, the hagwon’s (private schools) are overflowing with applicants. Also, as it turns out, Koreans are quite racist against other Asians. Renee (who is Chinese Jamaican) and I would send in our resumes to recruiters and often we would get a response with something along the lines of, “the schools do not want to hire Asian faced teachers” or “if you drop your Asian friend we can easily find you a job.” I felt pissed that she was being discriminated against simply because of her looks, and I can imagine that she felt some affects from the blatant racism as well; however, we decided to forge ahead and looked on the bright side: at least when we found a school we would know that they aren’t stupidly racist, which is obviously a plus in my book.

One day we got an email with details of a job and an offer to interview for a school on Geoje Island, the second largest island in the country. At first I dismissed it – an island would be cool but very isolating. Once we read further, however, we discovered that a bridge connecting the island to the mainland was just built a year ago, making traveling super easy. We had an interview with the school and within a few days we had our job offer with a great salary. Of course the entire visa process is a pain in the butt and a huge waiting game, but we had our E2 visas in hand by Thursday and were on a plane Friday morning. We got a call at 1 a.m. on Friday morning from our soon-to-be boss saying that she had just purchased our tickets and we would take off from Detroit at 8:30 a.m., which was in seven and a half hours. We slept for an hour, packed up the car, kissed my mother goodbye and were on the road by 3:30 a.m. This also happened to be a night where it randomly snowed (which it hadn’t done in weeks). On the way to the airport I got stopped by a cop for speeding (oops), and then when we were around Ann Arbor all the traffic slowed to about 20 MPH because of black ice all the way to Detroit. We were often at a complete halt because there were cars in the ditch, multiple accidents and one car on fire. I was sure we were going to miss the plane, but you know what they say: slow and steady wins the race. We got to the airport with little time to spare and began our twenty hour journey across the world.

We arrived in Busan at about 10 p.m. on Saturday night and were picked up by the owner of our school, her husband and their two children. They were extremely nice and funny and bought us a gigantic apple pie (seriously, it was about a foot in diameter) and some water. She apologized for not having any beds or furniture yet, but promised that they would be coming soon (two weeks later we finally got to rest on proper beds and put our clothes in wardrobes). Our apartment is brand spanking new with a flat screen TV mounted on the wall, wireless internet, and is located five minutes away from our school and about a block away from the only mall and Home Plus (a large grocery store) on the island. Everywhere you look you see either mountains or water with large cargo ships coming in to port.

The three weeks that we have been here so far have been an absolute whirlwind, and this is the first weekend that we have had with no crazy agenda. More tales and stories to come, but for now I will give your eyes a rest. Spring is in the air, and I hope you are all feeling as refreshed by the sunshine and warm weather as I am.

My awesome little six year old class at iSponge English.

Do You Smell What’s Cookin’?

While Renee and I anxiously await for the right job to find us in South Korea, we are spending our time in Michigan with my moms visiting friends and family, doing necessary logistical work for Korea and finding little (inexpensive!) ways to have fun.  This break has been filled with reading, crocheting, canvas work, fancy Christmas gift wrapping and cooking.  Cheap.  Fun.  Creative.  Not at all like an old lady.  Not. At. All.

I’m definitely not a cook.  If I was left by myself there’s a good chance I would survive on cereal, eggs, horribly dry chicken, fruits, veggies, pasta and microwaveable meals.  Thankfully Renee has entered my life and loooves to cook — and BONUS!  She’s fantastic at it.  So, after my slight obsession with Pinterest and finding simple and delicious looking meals, we decided to make some tasty treats on this grey Wednesday.  Here are the results!

Portabella Pizzas

Renee topping our portabella pizzas.

Ingredients:

• 2 portabella caps
• 1/2 cup marinara sauce
• shredded cheese
• pizza topping

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Clean the mushrooms and scoop out the insides and stem with a spoon.  Cover a baking sheet with tin foil and place the portabellas on the cooking sheet.  Bake for 7 minutes.  Take the mushrooms out of the oven and turn the broiler on high.  Cover the mushrooms with the marinara sauce, shredded cheese and other toppings that you choose (I loved the pepperoni and black olive combo, but there’s so much you can do with this dish!) and put it back in the oven for 3 more minutes or until it is all evenly melted.  (Hint: if you are using a low fat cheese, premix the shredded cheese with an egg white or two — low fat cheese usually has trouble melting so this helps the process.)

Portabella pizzas with pepperoni and black olives.

 We made this for lunch and it was amaaaaazing!  The portabella tastes so juicy and meaty, and with the toppings it tastes just like (possibly better than?) a regular pizza.  Seriously.  And it’s better for you — that never happens.

Mom enjoying our 'pizzas'

Then we made something not so good for you.  This tasty treat is called:

Cinnamon Maple Bacon Spread

Mixing up the cinnamon maple bacon spread.

Ingredients:

Candied bacon

• 2 tbs of butter
• maple syrup
• brown sugar
• bacon

Bacon spread

• 16 oz plain cream cheese
• 2 tbs maple syrup
• 2 tsp cinnamon
• pinch of nutmeg
• 2 tbs brown sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Mix the butter, maple syrup and brown sugar in a bowl.  Coat the pieces of bacon in the mix and lay flat on a large cooking rack set on top of a cooking tray lined in tin foil.  Top the bacon with a thin coat of brown sugar.  Put the bacon in the oven for 30 minutes or until brown and crispy.  Halfway through the baking process rotate the tray in the oven (most ovens don’t cook evenly so this will help keep the bacon consistent).

Candied bacon

In a large bowl mix the cream cheese (zap in the microwave for about 15 seconds to get it soft and smooth), maple syrup, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg.  Once the bacon is out of the oven and has cooled, crumble it up and fold it into the spread.

Crumbling the candied bacon into the spread.

I prepared this with croissant rolls, but this would also be wonderful on bagels, crackers, waffles or biscuits.  The saltiness from the bacon mixed with the sweetness of the brown sugar and maple syrup is addicting!

Mmmmmmm vino.

After a beautiful afternoon of making the kitchen smell like pizza and maple syrup bacon, we enjoyed a lovely $4 bottle of sweet moscato vino.  Cheers!

What Do You Want Out of 2012?

"I'm the hero of this story. I don't need to be saved."

Most of you know by now how much I L-O-V-E new beginnings, so you can understand why New Years is one of my favorite holidays.  The air is thick with excitement and hope that a new year will bring in something amazing, whether that be better health, more confidence, a better body, more money, a better job, true love… everyone has their wishes and their goals.

However excited and dedicated you are when you start your resolutions in the new year, many people eventually lose sight of these goals as the days drop off the calendar.  I’ve come to the conclusion that people usually set their expectations and goals too high, and they also focus on the wrong thing to improve.  How many resolutions have you started out saying, “This year I’m going to exercise five days a week, eat only fruits and vegetables for snacks and look like Cameron Diaz in a two piece by summer”, but a few weeks later you’re wearing sweats in front of the TV with popcorn in one hand and M&Ms in the other, drinking a Mountain Dew and loathing yourself?  It’s OK.  You are not alone, and the problem is not you or your lack of self control.

Start the year off by getting real with yourself.  No matter how much you starve, no matter how many horrible “liquid only” diets you go on that taste so bad you gag every single time you shove it down your throat, and no matter how many crunches or squats you do, your body will NEVER look like Beyonce’s.  Our bones are structured differently, we’re different heights, and sometimes no matter how hard you work you will always have chubby thighs/man-like calves/too small of breasts/flabby arms/a muffin top… you get the idea.  But say that after all of the starving and surgical cutting and self loathing that comes along with eating a cookie or two too many, you do obtain your dream body.  Do you think that you’ll feel amazing, beautiful, sexy and confident when summer comes around and you finally slip into that coveted (yet dreaded) swimsuit?  No, you won’t.

You think that the goal is to look amazing, but the real goal is to think and know and believe that you look and are amazing.

You believe that by obtaining this magical number in weight or dress size that you will automatically, finally, be happy!  But if you have trained your brain to pick apart every single “flaw” and loath your body rather than treat it with love and respect, you will always see the “fat person” in the mirror you have always told yourself you are.  If you have to starve yourself or go on some crazy cabbage or grapefruit diet how do you expect to maintain the weight you have lost?  You’re setting yourself up for failure when you starve your body, and you feel even worse when you transition back to normal food and gain back the weight (plus a little more usually).  Instead of starting the cycle of self loathing, why not start the cycle of self love?  For every time you look in the mirror and say something like “ugh, I hate my fat thighs,” counteract that statement with “but I love how toned my shoulders look” or “I love how my lips have a natural rose color.”  The more you love yourself and your body the more you’ll want others to view you in that same light, and you’ll be proud to show it all off.  People completely underestimate the power of self love and positive thinking, but that’s where it all begins.  That’s the key to start unlocking all of your potential happiness.  Instead of the “I want to look like Megan Fox by vacation” resolution, why not change it to “I want the confidence to pull of this new dress that makes my body look rockin’ by vacation.”

I personally was never too big on New Years resolutions, but this year I was excited to ring in 2012.  2011 had been such an amazing year from living in South Korea, to becoming relatively financially stable, to falling in love, to gaining new found independence and experiences.  After a rough few years, 2011 was the year of bliss.  A year of growth.  A year of beauty.  And I want even more of it in 2012.  This is the year I start to improve myself and dive into things that really interest me.

To Do List of 2012:

WRITE MORE.  I find that a lot of people set high, unrealistic goals for themselves when making resolutions, and when they do not live up to their “perfect” selves they end up quitting all together.  Set a goal like “I will write at least twice a month.”  I know that it sounds small, but it’s realistic and it’s better than not writing at all.  If after a few months you feel that you have set the bar too low, increase that number to four times a month.  Just write.

START A ROSETTA STONE.  This is something that is important to me.  My life revolves around my passion for travel and I have no excuse for being fluent in only one language.  It’s horribly limiting and frustrating at times.  When it comes to deciding on what language to learn part of me says, “you’ll be living in South Korea for a few years so you should learn to speak Korean.”  The other part of me says, “but Italian would be SO BEAUTIFUL!”  I come up with a compromise and decide that it would be best to learn French because it’s a common foreign language throughout the world.  So within this year I will purchase a Rosetta Stone and be on my way to learning a new language.

READ AT LEAST 10 BOOKS IN THE YEAR.  I love to read.  I love books so much.  I hope to write books someday that people love to read.  I love being inspired by the new and interesting stories; however, after a long day of work the easiest thing to do is pop in a movie or show or surf Facebook and zone out.  While all of that is well and good now and then, I need to get into reading more again.  Book #1 of the year that I’m reading is “No Excuses: 9 Ways Women Can Change How We Think About Power”.

“Feminist icon Gloria Feldt pulls no punches in her new book, which encourages women to step into positions of power and leadership—now. In No Excuses, she argues that the most confounding problem facing women today isn’t that doors aren’t open, but that not enough women are walking through them. From the boardroom to the bedroom, public office to personal relationships, she asserts that nobody is keeping women from parity—except themselves.

Through interviews, historical perspective, and anecdotes, No Excuses examines why barriers to equality still exist in American society. Feldt employs a no-nonsense, tough-love point of view to expose the internal and external roadblocks holding women back, but she doesn’t place blame; rather, she provides inspiration, hope, and courage—as well as concrete “power tools”—the 9 ways, with one highlighted in each chapter—to aid women in securing equality and justice for themselves.

No Excuses is a timely and invaluable book that intends to help women equalize gender power in politics, work, and love.”

For Christmas my moms got Renee and I a subscription to Glamour, Marie Claire and National Geographic Traveler magazines which they’ll forward to us when we’re in South Korea.  Magazine subscriptions = amazing gift.

DONATE TO A CHARITY/ORGANIZATION:  This is the first time in my life that I feel financially comfortable.  I can pay my bills with ease, and I make payments towards my debt, and I can save some money.  Now is the time to start giving back to a charity or organization that I feel passionate about.  Figuring out your passion and really narrowing it down to one organization is not as easy as it may seem.  There are so many causes out there — cancer, AIDS, homelessness, helping a disaster area rebuild, children in poverty, the environment… the list is endless.  I care about all of these important issues, but I often have to remind myself that I can not save the entire world.  I can only do what I can do and give with goodness and love in my heart.  I’m pretty sure I know which organization I will be giving to each month, but I want to do as much research as I can and keep my options open until I start earning a paycheck.

I was blessed to have worked at Wiz Island in Dongtan, South Korea from October 2010 – 2011.  The entire year was an intense learning experience in many ways in my life, especially when it came to my job as a teacher.  More on all of that later.

I’m currently in Michigan with Renee and we’re starting the interview process for some jobs in South Korea.  We are keeping our options open, being persistent and having faith that the right job will find us.  I feel so happy that I’ve got to spend so much time at home, but the time has come to kick my butt back into gear and start getting back to my version of normalcy.

I wish you all a happy, blessed and inspiring new year.  Take this year to find your passions and pursue them.  Work on becoming a happier person.  It’s never too late for a new beginning.

“Don’t ask what the world needs.  Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it.  Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” –Howard Thurman

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.  And to make an end is to make a beginning.” –T.S. Eliot 

One Week, Three Countries: My European Vacation

Just enjoy...

The Shock

At the beginning of August Renee and I traveled to Amsterdam, Netherlands; Lyon, France and Lausanne, Switzerland for our one week vacation from work.  After almost thirty hours of traveling by bus, plane and train, the cool air hit my exhausted but excited body as I stepped into the city of Amsterdam.  I looked around wide eyed at all of the people.  I could understand some people speaking English, but the rest was a garble of European dialects.  I took in this overwhelming scene: groups of people walking at a quick pace, everyone looking completely different from their clothing style, their hair colors and cuts, different eye colors, different body shapes, women walking dogs that were taller than their ankles, different architecture lined the city… the entire scene was completely opposite of South Korea.  With a giant smile plastered on my face, Renee and I pushed forward between the crowds on a mission to find our hotel.  We changed into a sweater and jeans (a nice change of weather from the always humid and rainy summer in Korea) then hit the town.

Our first stop was a coffee shop.  After experiencing one of Amsterdam’s main tourist attractions (NOT the red light district) we decided to go walking around; however, the streets were jammed with people, neon lights left streaks in my vision, techno and trance music was blasting from every open door, their beats mixing and swirling in my head.  I felt as if I were playing chicken with everyone rushing in my direction, their clothes and hair styles and loud voices left me feeling confused and taken aback.  Needless to say, the combination of being awake and traveling for over a day, the realization that I am, in fact, not above culture shock, and of course indulging a bit too much in Amsterdam’s tourist attraction in one sitting, I was left standing on the sidewalk with an asthma attack – of course.  I tried to remain calm and dismiss the fact that my throat was closing, that my tongue had somehow grown twice its size and the fact that my saliva had somehow gotten too thick to swallow.

You’re in Europe!  Finally!  Look how beautiful it all is!  I tried to direct my mind.  It fought back: you jerk!  Get me some water and someplace quiet where you can freak out in private!  You cannot freak out on a sidewalk in Amsterdam – it’s too cliché! 

The Hotel

Let me explain some things about the hotel where we chose to stay.  When we had originally booked this place we thought that we were getting a pretty “luxurious” spot.  The pictures on the website looked clean and spacious with a window overlooking the streets and canals of Amsterdam.  Also, the fact that we had our own bathroom and shower was a huge bonus, and sometimes quite hard to find when traveling in Europe, so we decided to pay a little extra; however, when we walked up the steep and narrow stairway to our room on the first floor (a bonus we thought since we didn’t have to haul our luggage up flights and flights of stairs) and turned the key, it wasn’t exactly what we were expecting.  Everything about the room was small and not so luxurious, but hey, we were in Europe on vacation!

After our night out on the town I was thankful to have a quiet place to catch my breath.  I sat on the bed allowing my mind to wander wherever it pleased in its haze.  Holy crap, I thought, how did you not prepare for culture shock?  You know it exists!  You are so unprepared for this trip.  We forgot to pick up water.  My mouth is so sticky.  I want something to munch on.  Why am I so taken aback by everything?  If I were living in the United States and then coming to Amsterdam would it be such a shock?  Probably not; however, we picked the EXACT OPPOSITE location of Korea to vacation.  Everything is so loud!  And this hotel room is not luxurious.  Yes, better than a hostel dorm room, but I could stay at a Motel 8 back home and it would cost way less and it’s probably nicer.  I shook my head clear.  The hotel is great!  I’m on vacation in a completely new place.  Sure, the window with a supposed beautiful view is about five feet from the next three buildings so all you can see is crumbling brick and cigarette butts.  And sure, the bed is so soft you sink down about a foot and have a hard time crawling in and out of it, but that doesn’t matter.  I am young and in love and in Europe, I thought to myself.  Period.

I hoisted myself out of the bed and put a smile on my face.  A shower will do me good, I thought.  I closed the curtain that separated me from the toilet and turn around.  Oh, look at that.  The sink is in the shower.  The sink where I’ll be brushing my teeth and putting on my makeup is in the same place where I’ll be washing the city dirt off of my entire body every night.  Awesome.

As I laid in bed surrounded by… well… the mattress, I finally gave into my exhaustion and started to drift   off to sleep.  Just as I start to enter the word of dreams I was jerked awake by a crash.  What the hell?  Accompanying the crash was a fit of laughter, someone dragging themselves against the other side of the wall, and then stomping up the next flight of stairs.  Ahh.  I thought I noticed a hint of surprise in the front desk guy’s eyes when we said that we were great with staying on the first floor.  I get it.

You Must Factor in Jetlag

That night and the next day Renee and I slept on and off due to the awesome eight hour time difference.  A little hesitant to leave the room because of the hecticness of the previous night, we put on some clothes and started out to see the city.  We got a simple, beautiful breakfast of meat, eggs and toast, then found a little coffee shop and had a fantastic real cup of coffee and a very special brownie.  We walked around a bit more, searching for a nice place to just sit and read and have some more delicious coffee, but that didn’t seem to exist at 11 a.m. on a Sunday.  Every coffee shop and most restaurants we came across were very dark inside with loud music blaring so you couldn’t even hear your thoughts, much less have a conversation.  I wanted to relax on this nice afternoon – not get fucked up.  We finally sat outside at a little lunch place and filled ourselves on a roasted veggie and goat cheese focaccia and of course, coffee.  Renee and I, still struggling with jet lag, decided to grab some pastries, a mix container of cheese, goat cheese stuffed olives, Orangina and a huge bottle of water and headed back to our hotel.  Originally we had big plans for Amsterdam – hit up the Ann Frank house, the Van Gogh museum, photography museum, etc; however, we were exhausted and we figured, hey, this is our vacation.  If we need a nap, that is what we shall do.  Then we passed out for the remainder of the day and night.  Oops.

After we checked out of the hotel room the next morning we went to the sex museum before boarding a train that would take us to Lyon, France.  As I sat on the train and waved goodbye to Amsterdam, I was happy to go on another adventure but sad that Amsterdam was not the city I had hoped it would be.

Me in Amsterdam!

Renee enjoy a fantastic European coffee

My very special brownie

142 Stairs with a View

We arrived in Lyon about 10 p.m. Monday evening and were greeted at the train station by Renee’s cousin, Connie, and her flat mate, Michele.  As we wound through the side streets of beautiful, quiet Lyon Connie turned to us and warned us that the flat was on the seventh floor with no lift, so it could be quite a trek up.  Seven flights and one hundred forty-two stairs later we arrived breathless at the apartment; however, the view was well worth the climb.  They had two large double windows that overlooked the entire city of Lyon.  Even through the darkness we could see the red tile roofs lined up throughout the city with a cathedral to the right that sat atop a hill.  Although the cathedral itself wasn’t totally lit up, the golden statue of Mary was, and it shown bright looking over the city, and I stood there in the cool night’s breeze happy that there were no neon lights in sight.  We cracked open a bottle of French wine, had some good conversation then headed to bed to finally get on a regular sleep schedule.

The next day we woke up, refreshed, with a pot of coffee and that view.  We headed out that afternoon, grabbed a sandwich and sat at a riverboat restaurant with a beer next to the Rhone River.  Afterwards we met up with Michele and headed to the house where he grew up and where his mother still lives.  The house was on the outskirts of Lyon and was covered in ivy with a beautiful garden on the back right side of the house.  We picked a fresh tomato from the vine and let the hot sweetness roll over our tongues – this was perfection.  We walked down the lane in back of his house, old brick walls lined the path overgrown with vegetation, got his horse and brought it to the pasture, which had a view overlooking the entire area.  That night we fired up the grill and ate a feast of spicy sausage, mustard spiced chicken, a Mediterranean salad, bread, cheese, and of course, vino.  The whole experience was exactly what I needed – being around wildlife, fresh air, good food, relaxing conversation – this was the definition of vacation.

View from the flat in Lyon

Michele's childhood home just outside of Lyon

Renee and Connie relaxing in the pasture

View from the pasture

Best dinner spot around

My Tap Water is Evian

Of course we found a way to have a road trip on this little adventure!  The four of us packed the car on Wednesday afternoon and started out towards Lausanne, Switzerland.  Connie’s boyfriend lives and works there, and with it being a short three hours away, we hit the road.  After the mere four flights of stairs we stepped into his flat and again… that view!  We all stepped out onto the balcony with our jaws hitting the ground.  Directly below us was Lake Geneva, which sat at the base of the Swiss Alps.

“See that area across the lake?” John asked, pointing to a little city at the base of the mountains.  “That’s the town of Evian.”

“Like… the water company?” I asked looking at him.

“Yep.” he answered with a smile.

“So… basically your tap water is Evian?” I asked, still trying to understand what I was hearing.  For someone who can not drink the tap water in South Korea because it is so chemically treated (and there have been recent reports of acquiring Hepatitis from doing so), I couldn’t seem to grasp this.

John laughed and nodded his head.  “Yeah, basically.”

We turned back into the apartment and there sat a huge array of biscuits, meat and cheese with a fresh bottle of wine and some beer.  I felt at home.  That night John and Connie made us homemade Hawaiian pizza and we talked all about Switzerland, how the country is set up in case of war, the banking system, the culture.  This is also a good time to say that I felt amazingly inadequate because I don’t know at least three different languages.  I mean, seriously, most people in Europe know at least French, Spanish and English – and that’s just to get by on a regular.  I see a lot of language learning in my future… anyone have a spare Rosetta Stone lying around?

We took a walk down to the lake and laid under some trees and just listened to the waves crash against the shore.  We had to leave the next morning back to Lyon, but I was falling in love with European life.  I wanted to stop moving around and just… be.  Do you know what the general past time is of those who live around Lausanne?  It’s not sitting mindlessly in front of a TV, but it’s “hey, I wonder what outside looks like right now” because the landscape looks totally different depending on the sun and clouds.

In the end, though, we did head back to Lyon and enjoyed frog legs the following night with Michele, Connie, their friend and Michele’s two sons.

Lake Geneva with the clouds playing in the Swiss Alps.

Sailboats at the base of the Alps

Frog legs!

We’re Here, We’re Queer… Let’s Party?

We said a sad goodbye to Connie and Michele, then headed back to Amsterdam to catch a plane the next evening.  We stepped into the city once again and were greeted by Gay Pride weekend.  We checked into our hotel and noticed a trance party going on outside of our room across the street.  We were tired from the travel, but this was something we had to experience!  We freshened up and headed out to the party.  Loud beats filled your ears while people were either barely dressed or dressed for the festivities (hot pink feather boas, pasties, glitter everywhere, wild make up… and the girls were also dressed pretty crazy), and a laser light show flashed across the sky and event.  We wandered the area for like… well… five minutes, decided we had experienced the height of gay pride and headed away from the party.

The next day we had a while before we needed to be at the airport, so we wandered the side streets of Amsterdam.  What we found was the city I had been searching for.  Old men sold old stamps and bobbles from their carts, little souvenir and trinket shops lined the narrow streets, and everything seemed calmer.  Finally I found a place in this city outside of the little Vegas vibe to really enjoy.

"Be Gay"

We eventually made our way to the air port and boarded our plane to South Korea.  I felt a mix of emotions about going back; on one hand I really loved my time in Europe, but on the other hand I have really become accustomed to South Korea and it is comfortable and familiar here.  It’s my little home at the moment, and it was nice to go back to my own space and pace – until my next adventure, that is.

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide where to go." --Dr. Seuss

Computer Issues and a Sad Song

Ahh, computers can be amazing and wonderful until they don’t work the way that you want them to.  Eesh!  Something has been going on with my computer, and it got to the point where it would freeze all the time and now won’t connect to the internet even though it says it’s connected.  I finally got MY OWN internet at my apartment today; however, as per usual, something was preventing it from working.  I told the guy that I knew what the problem was, but with one of my teachers translating for me, something got mixed up, and he said that he would come back when I fixed the computer.  Of course as soon as they left I fixed it; however, I STILL can’t get on the internet because I have to enter certain codes, etc.  I’m sure I could figure it out on my own IF all of the instructions weren’t in Korean.  Trying to be patient… lol.  Should be fixed this week ::fingers crossed.::

Today is day 04 of the 30 Day Song Challenge: a song that makes you sad.  The song that always breaks my heart when I hear it is “Whiskey Lullaby” by Brad Paisley and Alison Krauss with Union Station.  Not only are the lyrics heartrending, but the acoustic guitar KILLS me!  Something about those chords makes me want to weep.  I had a friend who could play this song on his guitar, and I remember one night laying on my bed in my dark room listening to him play on the other end of the phone line.  Every chord, every wail that the guitar strings allowed was heart wrenching, but so beautiful.  It’s good to have a variety of music in your life.  Some days you just need to cry, and this is a great song to induce that tearful therapy.

Sunday’s and Songs

Sunday might be my favorite day.  I love all the weekend days, but Sunday is something special.  Maybe it’s because you desperately want to cling to the weekend and your body and soul soaks in every last minute before returning to the weekly grind of work and responsibilities.  Today my Sunday has consisted of sleeping in late, waking up and eating an amazing breakfast of steak, eggs and homefries, and making some delicious Waterstreet coffee that my mom has sent me from America.  The whole morning and afternoon a combination of Dave Matthews, Jack Johnson and Jason Mraz has been  in the background – a recipe for a great, relaxing Sunday.  Sunday’s are where it’s at, my friends.

I’ve also decided to undertake the 30 Day Music Challenge that people are participating in on Facebook.  I’ve found that this little project has made me nostalgic and really makes me think about my music spread.  Day 01, the assignment was to pick your favorite song.  How hard is that!  I have so many songs that I’m totally in love with and it was hard to pick just one; however, I finally settled on Martin Sexton’s “Black Sheep.”  I was first introduced to this song when I was on my road trip to Arizona when I asked my friends to burn me some CD’s of new music that I could listen to and connect with on my drive.  As I was venturing through Oklahoma, a landscape vastly different than the rolling green hills, forests and lakes of the Midwest where I was raised, I noticed the yellow grass, large rock formations and rolled bales of hay that surrounded me on this empty highway.  Towards the end of the song when Martin is basically screaming, the passion in his voice singing about leaving home and following your dreams, I suddenly felt the world, God and the West envelope me in a tight embrace.  A voice whispered: welcome to the West.  You belong here right now.  Enjoy, live, learn, heal.  This is where you belong. Tears were rolling down my cheeks and I was laughing, feeling so alive in that moment.  So, that is why I have chosen “Black Sheep” as my favorite song.  It will continuously touch me and remind me of feeling God.  I like the version I have on my iPod best, but all of his stuff is live and changes a bit each time he sings, so this is as close as I could get on Youtube.

Day 02 of the 30 Day Music Challenge was a song that you like the least.  The only thing that ran through my mind was “Never Gonna Feel Like That Again” by Kenny Chesney.  Now, I never originally hated the song – I quite like Kenny Chesney; however, the story I have to connect with to this song pisses me off.  I really don’t want to get into it, but let’s just say if you need to tell someone that you knocked up your girlfriend and you’re giving it another go – don’t subliminally break the news to that person in a SONG.

Day 03: pick a song that makes you happy.  Immediately I thought of “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence and the Machine.  What a happy song!!  I first started to listen to her when I got to Korea and my life started to develop and take amazing turns.  A new place, new beginnings, new adventures.  This is my happy-dance-around-your-room-in-your-underwear-while-using-a-hairbrush-as-a-microphone song.  Enjoy!

V Love

A Georgia O'Keeffe painting.... can you see it?

Ooh, it’s such a beautiful Sunday!  Admittedly, I skipped church this afternoon.  With the sun shining, people playing outside and children riding their unicycles, I felt more at peace spending the day walking around in the sun, doing a little grocery shopping to BBQ on a deck of my building tonight with Renee, and sitting on my bed next to my giant window reading and writing.  As I look out on this gorgeous day it makes me miss home, yet also makes me feel grateful to be here.

Last night Renee and I traveled to Itaewon to see The Vagina Monologues.  I’ve gone to this performance a few times during college, and I was so excited to hear that it had come to Korea.  For those of you who don’t know what the Vagina Monologues are, they’re performances by women retelling the stories of women who were interviewed about their lady parts.  Some stories were sad – about the genital mutilation that goes on in areas of Africa, about women who were raped, about women sold into sexual slavery and used as “comfort women” during times of war.  Other stories were happy and hilarious – discovering how to have an orgasm for the first time, reclaiming the word cunt, a sex worker who loves to make women moan (whilst demonstrating a triple orgasm with all the moans combined), and many more inspirational, funny and heartbreaking monologues.  We got to Roofers, the bar where it was held, about ten minutes after the doors had opened and it was PACKED.  We stood for most of the two hour performance, but it was completely worth it.  I walked away with a shirt that reads “If your vagina could talk, what would it say?” and a chocolate vagina on a stick.  All of the proceeds of this event went to The House of Sharing, which houses and provides therapy for the Korean Comfort Women who were used by the Japanese soldiers during WWII.  These women range in age from 80-90 something years old, and their dying wish is to get a formal apology from the Japanese government.  So far their wishes have not been granted.

All of this talk of vagina might make you all a bit uncomfortable, and that’s understandable.  But it’s MORE than just the physical part of the body that is being discussed.  This is the part of a woman that differs from any man on earth, obviously.  These stories are about women who have found themselves and found love in themselves – beyond just physical satisfaction.  One of my best friends lived in a house during college with seven or so other female roommates.  Throughout their house they had walls dedicated to vaginas.  They would ask, “How is your vagina feeling today?” and give you a piece of paper and art supplies to create.  Pictures ranged from swirls to trees to faces to erratic lines.  Of course they weren’t exactly asking “How do your lady parts physically feel at this moment?” but rather, “How is your soul as a woman today?”  I love this idea and practice, and it’s not a man-bashing thing either.  It’s a woman thing, bottom line.  It has nothing to do with men.

One of my favorite artists is Georgia O’Keeffe, and she is known for painting vaginas.  They come mostly in the form of flowers, and I have always found her work beautiful.  In fact, the header of my blog is part of one of her paintings (surprise!!).

Georgia O'Keeffe. Recognize part of this?

Georgia O'Keeffe

Georgia O'Keeffe

Georgia O'Keeffe

Basic moral of this blog: love your parts.  Whether you are a man or a woman, find the love in yourself beyond just your personality and your likes/dislikes.  Be proud of who you are, where you come from, and LOVE YOUR BODY.  Stop hating and picking at yourself – your body is capable of AMAZING things, and you never know how beautiful and astonishing your physicality is until it starts to fail.

I leave you with a poem by Martha Serpas I found a few years ago, and it has stuck with me since.

The Diener

We hated the early anatomists
for showing us how fragile we are,
how God’s imagine is composite:
the liver the bright bruise of a sunset,
the thyroid wrapped around our throats
for luck. They saw our brains folded
against our foreheads and knew our hearts
pump dumbly on through the wash.
And wily guts take the brunt of it,
pushing to get rid of while we insist
on taking in and taking in and taking in.
Theirs was heresy, that is, a choice
to reach the Artist by testing the art,
human suffering always the requisite cost.

Change, what keeps all of it the same,
the Teacher says, no new thing
under the sun. What we make, let’s make old
instead, older than the first tool,
which smelled much like the body –
the first blacksmith must have thought –
not quite like displaced blood, but blood at home
in its place among other parts in their places,
and that must be how we began to confuse
the power to examine and change
with the power to create, to be discrete agents,
why we like to see ourselves as whole,
despite the diener pilings legs on a cot,
despite the pruned artery, tired and cut.

The Renewal and Rebirth of Spring

Spring in Japan when I was there in 2008. "May our daily reconstruction be the result of the very best that we carry within us. Give us the courage to be able to reconstruct what was destroyed, to be able to recover what was lost, to be able to accept what was gone forever. May you give us courage to look ahead, may we never look back nor allow our soul to be discouraged." --Paulo Coelho

Spring is in the air!  Just these past two weeks or so I’ve noticed subtle, yet sure signs that we are starting a new season.  This weekend I woke up and heard birds chirping out my window, and it hit me that I hadn’t heard that sound in months.  The sun is starting to rise about an hour earlier than just weeks before, and I have found myself very grateful that I invested in some curtains for my window/wall (no more pushing my bed into the kitchen on the weekends to avoid the sweltering sun!).  I can actually smell the season.  I’ve noticed that during the winter months there is no scent in the air because everything is seemingly boarded up and covered with snow or ice, and everyone is scurrying from one place to another with their face covered, thinking of nothing but the heater waiting for them at end of their destination.  During springtime, however, I can smell the food as the shops start to open their doors and windows, I can smell the dampness of the night starting to evaporate as I walk to work in the morning, and I can smell the dust and fresh dirt being stirred as a cool (but not freezing!) rain falls.  We’ve also had the freak snowfall four days after it was “officially” spring so the new season must be here.

Along with the changing from winter to spring comes my favorite holiday – Easter!  Easter is a time of renewal, a time of rebirth and new beginnings.  I found a nondenominational church in Seoul for foreigners that I really enjoy going to, and although sometimes I feel like I have to drag myself on Sunday from my cozy apartment and get my butt there, I always find that it’s worth it.  It’s a time for reflection, and I often find myself facing my flaws and thinking about ways to make myself a better person.  The service renews me and prepares me for the week ahead, as I often feel a bit drained by the time Friday rolls around.  Here’s the thing about church for me: I don’t exactly know how to identify my beliefs.  The best way I can think of how to put it is “I believe in all paths to God.”  Whether you’re a Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Jew, etc. I believe that it is the condition of your heart that matters and that your prayers eventually go to the same being most people call God.  Not everyone agrees with this, of course, but that’s OK.  It’s what I believe and I am happy with that, learning and taking from the different religions and not overruling or tossing anything out.  I find that I most identify with a church that welcomes all people and lets you worship as you see fit.  At this church the past two services really hit on what I’ve been thinking about lately: judging, forgiveness, and being a good and positive person.  I’ve felt that these are things in my life that needed to be reexamined, and then BOOM, there’s a sermon about it.

I walked into church one Sunday and felt myself becoming very observant.  Sometimes I do get judge-y when I see Christians worshiping in a “showy” way – arms spread wide, jumping up and down, yelling “Yes, Lord!  Yes, Jesus!” in the middle of a song or prayer.  It’s not the way I worship and sometimes I feel that people are doing it just for show.  Like, look at me!  Look how devoted I am in my faith! But that Sunday I really watched people and their faces and felt my judgments being quieted.  One guy had his arms spread wide in the air, and his face looked so concentrated on feeling God’s love.  Like he was reaching beyond the ceiling to the heavens, waiting to feel God traveling through his arms and down to his heart.  Some people had their hands folded to their chest with their eyes squeezed shut, others were jumping up and down singing, the look on their faces was one of excitement to finally be in their house of worship, as if they had been starved for it all week.  Some people were crying, maybe asking for forgiveness or praying about a loss, praying that God will heal them and make them whole.  It felt good to be an observer and take a nonjudgmental view on their personal ways of connecting with a higher being.  The main verse for the sermon that day was Luke 6:37-42:

“Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not and you will not be condemned; forgive and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you.  Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.  For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.”  He also told them a parable: “Can a blind man lead a blind man?  Will they not both fall into a pit?  A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher.  Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?  How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye?  You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.

The verse for the following week was on being a good person and having your core values based on something real and good, which made me think about what I have been placing my values on lately.  Have I been too focused on money and having material things now that I’m not actually completely broke all of the time?  This verse continues from the previous; Luke 6:43-49:

“For no good tree bears bad fruit, nor again does a bad tree bear good fruit, for each tree is known by its own fruit.  For figs are not gathered from thorn bushes, nor are grapes picked from a bramble bush.  The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.  Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?  Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock.  And when a flood arose, the stream broke against the house and could not shake it, because it had been well built.  But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation.  When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great.”

What kind of person am I?  Do I store real goodness in my life or not?  Why don’t I follow everything I know that is good and real?  Maybe because temptation is strong, because I don’t totally trust in the unknown, or maybe because I feel too influenced by others’ opinions.  I sat and thought about these and reflected on my past and present.  When I hear myself complaining or saying things about others, it actually reflects poorly on me and my character.  Seriously, how bad do I have it?  I could be in Japan right now.  A country right next to me has suffered this terrible catastrophe and I was left untouched.  So, I had a bad day.  Someone irritated me.  It could be worse, and I need to keep myself in check and not only be grateful for what I have but act grateful for what I have.  Looking at my journal entries and blog posts about going by faith in my decision to move to South Korea, I realized that this is a big theme in my life.  I know that I have a faith that everything will work out in the end how it’s supposed to, and so far my life has been amazing because of that.  Once I stop stressing and start doing all that I can towards a goal that I really want, I know that either it will be accomplished or something better will come along in its’ place.  Call this a faith in God, a faith in the Universe… whatever you want to call it, I believe that it’s real and it has served me well so far.

I’ve now been living here in South Korea for five months now, and things are wonderful.  I think about my desire to move to Europe, and then realize what all I would have missed out on if I had not ended up here.  Although I am completely aware of the fact that I do not want to be a teacher for the rest of my life, and sometimes I struggle with going to work day after day with the same trials and tribulations with the feeling that my time would be better spent writing and reading and traveling, I still feel blessed.  When it comes down to it, the perks and life experiences that I gain from this job that will prepare me for my future are worth it.  I believe that all will come in good time, and I should be in no rush to accomplish all the goals that I have set for myself right this instant.  Live in the now, enjoy today, keep my faith and keep my mind open to all those things that I do not understand.  Spring is a time of new beginnings and fresh starts – what are some things in your life that need renewing?