Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 15: An Ode to Nanshan Mountain

Running up the road to Nanshan mountain today

I noted my restless mind

flitting from here to there

like Pátacon in her bewitching hour

in the middle of the night

Reaching the 1st of 820 stairs

I felt my heavy breath

and fast-paced heart

After 

ascending,

 ascending,

 ascending,

to reach the small summit at the top

I paced inside the pagoda

that overlooks the city

Restless

I decided quickly to descend

But at once I sensed a force 

pulling me to stay

I turned around

and sat down

in the middle of the stone

Closing my eyes

I steadied my breath

reminding myself to come back to my senses

And then I heard the rhythmic beating of big machines

the endless construction of Shenzhen

I heard the guard just below chuckle at his phone

And I heard a soft wind blow

through the leaves of nearby trees

As it brushed against my skin

And in the presence of 

the symphony of my surroundings

I found a piece of peace

Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 14: Week without walls: Juniors in the jungle

It has now been many moons since I signed my first two-year contract with Shekou International School. Still, I find myself proclaiming with some frequency, "No, I really didn't want to come to China. I was actively trying to avoid it, actually." But then the Universe took over and my intuition told me it was right. The conversations I had with Mike Livingston, my principal, and a number of other past and present employees, led me to feel that SIS would be a place that would foster a good deal of professional growth. It has. And more deeply than I had imagined. I also knew that I was being pulled to Asia for unforeseen reasons as well, that the move would present challenges and opportunities that I just could not predict, but that would prove remarkable for my personal growth.

This past week I had the opportunity to go on my second Week Without Walls trip. Along with two teacher friends and 27 juniors, I set off for the rainforest of Sabah, located on the Malaysian side of Borneo.

I have spent this week after returning from the trip reflecting on how rich it was in people and experience and real life learning. As I smile while looking at photographs, several big trip takeaways have surfaced.

1. The importance of indigenous knowledge systems

Our second day and night were spent at Utan Paradise. This beautifully rustic jungle camp is run by a sixty-something kind, kind man and his family. Inus is part of the head-hunter tribe, under the larger umbrella of the Murut. Men from Inus's tribe have historically proven their courage and strength to potential father-in-laws by bringing heads of the men from other tribes that they have conquered. Today, nothing remains of this practice. What does remain is a people working to preserve their language, rituals and culture. Before embarking on a waterfall hike, Inus gathered us around to watch a traditional hunting ceremony. Before going out to hunt wild boar or clouded leopard, men would put together an offering of rice and tobacco on palm leaves. This is a time for the men to ask for protection from the four elements -- wind, earth, fire, and water -- before entering the jungle. 

Inus, along with the Dragonfly staff, helped the students to learn to build a fire, and about how to make a hunting trap. 

And then there was the fishing expedition down by the pond ...

When I look at this photo, what keeps coming to mind is "Don't mess with Texas." We are nowhere near Texas here. I don't think any of these students have ever been to Texas. But, as you may note, these fishers mean business.
Here fishy fishy fishy fishy ...

They caught numerous fish and crawfish with those old school fishing rods. #sisfisherpeople

We were fortunate enough to hear more about Inus's childhood and history later in the evening. At twelve years old, when he first began going to school, he would arise at 3 am to begin the walk outside of the village to the nearest school. This was, for me, as for many of our students, a reminder of how privileged we are to have easy access to education. 

As Inus continued to detail and answer questions about his life, Joschua inquired, "How come you decided to make the jungle camp instead of going into the city?" Inus responded that he had indeed tried to live in the city for 10 years, working as a cook at a hotel, but his boss was always on his case, and he never found the peace that he felt in nature while in the city. So Inus has returned to the place he feels most connected to his culture. My fellow English teacher and friend, Faye, wondered aloud as she, our other friend and colleague Aaron, and I were talking later that evening, "What is lost for all of us when the history and knowledge of different peoples is lost to time or assimilation? What happens when stories stop being told?" 

So I wonder now What stories can we inquire about today, within or outside of our own family? What memories and stories might we share with our friends and family at the next dinner or get together? Who else's story might we seek to learn more about customs and traditions other than our own? 

2. Ignorance really isn't bliss

It has largely been in the last four years that I have begun to consider the larger impact many of my actions have on people that I have never met. While living in Ecuador, I began to learn more about fair-trade, especially in the vein of chocolate. A cross-continental shout-out to my friends Iain and Eva who work with We.org and worked with local cacao farmers in Ecuador to develop a new fair-trade bar to bite into soon! 

On this trip, it was Inus who began to enlighten me about a product called palm oil, a controversial ingredient found in lipstick, shampoo, biodiesel fuel, detergent and dozens of things we use on a daily basis. Inus spoke of the way that the palm oil plantations were destroying so much of the land and natural habitats for animals such as the orangutans and proboscis monkeys with little benefit to the people of Borneo.When I arrived back to Shenzhen, I dug more into the topic. After becoming more aware of the damage many of these plantations are doing, I am working on making more informed choices so that I can buy products that do not use palm oil, or at least use sustainably grown palm oil. 

The proboscis monkeys' hallmark feature is their large red nose. Here you see a female, whose nose is much smaller than her male counterparts. The bigger the nose, the sexier the monkey, said our river boat guide. Photo credit: Joschua Mueller

Perhaps it was more blissful for me before I knew of the unethical actions behind things like cacao trade and palm oil plantations, but it certainly is not blissful for those getting paid so little for their work, and it will not be a blissful future if we continue to plow down natural habitats and endanger more species. 

Ultimately, I am left to ask, What more can I do to align my actions with my ethics? and In what ways might I team up with others to support more ethical and sustainable practices? 

3. Hospitality makes a heart feel at home

One of our juniors, Jamie, articulated a sentiment that we all seemed to share when she wrote me, "The way the families at our homestay treated us made us feel at home. They welcomed us with open arms and really wanted to get to know us during the short period of time we had with them. Seeing how grateful they are for everything they have taught us to be grateful for even the smallest things in our lives." The warmth extended by each our of homestay hosts by and large seemed to have the largest impact on our students as two others, Sean and Joschua also reflected on this part of Week Without Walls. Sean noted that "This year's WWW was absolutely amazing ... what really stuck with me is the big smiles and hospitality the locals gave us throughout our visit. I truly admire the way the Malaysian people we met live in so much more happiness and harmony compared to some of the most privileged people in the world; I definitely appreciate my life more than I did before the trip." Joschua echoed much of this when he wrote, "I tried to do as much as possible to immerse myself in the local culture and some things that will stay with me are buying the fresh seafood at the market on the first day and staying with the homestay in Papar. Our host was great and we felt as if we were part of the family. We even got to hold the baby (!!!)." (I love ... love that he used three exclamation marks to denote his excitement at holding the baby. #sisstudentsrock)

Titta and NaYoon at breakfast with their hostess.

Alejandra, Minseo, Thea, Evelyn and I had so much delicious food this morning,
I do not know how I ended up eating such a squirmy ... well, that's next up ...

As we hugged our host family goodbye, I wondered Do guests in my house feel like family? What might I do to extend even more hospitality to those I host? 

4. Living outside your comfort zone has its rewards

I ate a worm. Not a skinny earthworm, but a fat, juicy sago worm. It started with a pact, between Aaron, Faye and I. Because we are IB teachers, and we must also model the learner profile, one of the qualities of which is "risk taker." 

So we sunk our teeth into that big worm above, which does turn into a rather large beetle over time. I was told it would taste something like coconut. I love coconut. Everything coconut. So I figured I could get over the texture, and the fact that it squirms in your mouth for a moment, and appreciate the coconut-ty goodness. Well, to my disdain, I tasted zero coconut flavor when I bit down into the creamy flesh of that worm. Faye's reaction on the other hand: priceless. And Aaron's, as cool as a cucumber. Meanwhile, I was flailing my hands about and scrunching my nose ...

I do not believe I will be compelled to eat another ... in my entire life, but as it stands, I did get the equivalent of egg protein from popping that wood-dwelling wiggler into my mouth. That was, can we say, the benefit. The reward was really the fact that we essentially started a sago worm eating revolution amongst the students. And those reactions were priceless, too.

As Joschua demonstrates, you cannot eat the head, but you must bite off the body, and, as I did,
quickly throw the head to the ground lest it wriggle in the palm of your hand as you chew its remains.
Photo credit: Joshua Ip

This experience really begs the question Why live life in a box when you can eat sago worms out of a bucket? 

I have found that my move to Asia has prompted me to ask many questions ... about the way I live, about the way others live, about and the impact we all have on one another. I have yet to come up with very clear answers to many of the questions that surface in my day to day life, and on these incredible trips. This reminds me of some words from the protagonist of the book I was reading while on the trip. In John Green's newest novel, Turtles all the Way Down, Aza reflects, "Life is a bunch of choices between wonders ... What I love about science [about life] is that as you learn, you don't really get answers. You just get better questions." 

Cheers to this year's trip, to inquisitive students, to our new friends in Sabah, and to funny and interesting colleagues who are also friends. And cheers to experiences that prompt us to ask better questions.

#weekwithoutwalls2017 #juniorsinthejungle #sisrocks

#fearlessteachers

...

and one last toast to that Malaysian sunset

Photo credit: Sean the Sun

Life with Chinese characteristics, Chapter 13: A Mid-autumn festival in Thailand

Having arrived back in Shenzhen late last night, I am fighting off some post-trip blues tonight by flipping through photos. Mostly of elephants. So. many. elephant photos. My goodness, I never knew I could want to actually cuddle with such a big creature, or be wrapped up in an elephant trunk hug again and again. I think the elephant experience endorphins have stayed with me, actually, even days later, as I am still giddy about that whole experience. Before I start writing at light speed about my newfound love for big, bristly-haired, beautiful beasts, I've got to back up a bit.

Some months ago, my dear friend Anah (and Gustie alumni and track teammate), and Elizabeth (Anah's close friend and my new friend and owner of The Twin Cities' Colossal Cafes) set out planning a trip to Thailand. Anah and Elizabeth are the first of my friends and family from the West to visit me in the East. Throughout the trip, the theme for me became the ways that the East and the West are woven together. Having lived in the East for a relatively short time so far, I am really just beginning to ponder the ways that we are, if I may borrow a favorite Thai phrase, same-same-but-different. The trip provided a number of moments to contemplate the ways the East and West are mixed together in our globalized world.

It was after a couple of summer planning sessions with good wine and Thai food, that we were nearly prancing around the dinner table after nailing down the details, filled with anticipation of what adventure the trip would allow to unfold.

And as each day stretched out before us, adventure we did find.

We made our rendezvous at Loy La Long hotel in Bangkok. This was a gem of a find. One of those quaint places where you instantly feel at home. As I was waiting for Anah and Elizabeth to arrive the first morning, I sat in the breakfast area that opens up onto the river. A warm rain fell that day. While the tugboats puttered by, I meditated on the way I feel life is quite enchanting when I travel. I am not a believer in fairytales. Oh, I suppose there is some innocent romantic hidden inside my heart that wants to believe in some of that magic, but largely I am a skeptic. Except, each time that I experience a new place, I fall in love with life again with all of the excitement and anticipation erupting in my body, a lava of life flowing into my veins.

Breakfast views at Loy La Long

Our first day in Bangkok was filled with happy squeals and a lot of giggles as we set out to explore Chatachak Weekend Market. Cass's friend Keith lived in Thailand for a year with his wife Sarah, and he had advised us to simply allow ourselves to get lost and to eat as much street food as possible. This is perhaps my favorite piece of travel advice ever.

Those chicken skewers, though.

After doing what Baci-Huggenvik-Tinucci women do very, very well, and purchasing a number of fun market finds, while sipping our drunken ice teas, we went to see Wat Arun, the Temple of Dawn, by night. It was dazzling.

For our second day in Bangkok, our original plans to hang out at Lumpini Park were foiled by monsoon-like rains. So we looked up at the Heavens and said, "We got you, Universe. Time for Thai massage, right?" After asking two locals, we headed to Health Land, a Western looking spa, offering a very Eastern experience. 

As we were sitting in the waiting area, it suddenly dawned on us that we did not know what we were walking into. In the 30 seconds before we were called, a quick Google search surfaced the words "acupressure," "Ayurvedic techniques" and "assisted yoga positions." We all walked into the room with three thin mattresses on the floor wearing quizzical expressions. First, we were asked to take off our clothes in order to dress in loose fitting pants and a tunic-like top. The two hour massage that followed was quite different than what these three Western women are used to. Suffice it to say, my muscles felt thoroughly stretched out after the woman giving me my massage had used her arm like a rolling pin all over my body, and had stretched my limbs in all directions. The trip afforded us time for a second Thai massage, and after having a better understanding of what the experience was going to be, I relaxed into it more deeply, vowing to find Thai massage in China. If you're interested, read more about it here, and if you are in the Twin Cities area, you might even call to make an appointment for your own Zen Experience.

After our day and a half in Bangkok, we set off for the north and landed in Chiang Mai. When we woke up that first morning, we planned to hike to a waterfall near Huay Tung Tao Lake. As our Uber driver was taking us there, the rain began to pour down harder, but the mood was lightened as our new Thai friend belted out Country Roads. When the song ended, he looked in the rear view mirrror and inquired, "Why the people vote for Trump?" We quickly all chimed in our own confusion over the election as we shook our heads and explained many people did not vote for him. 

After arriving at the lake, we acknowledged that the rain again had thwarted our original plans, so we set out to run around the water a couple of times, enjoying a good soaking in our good natured ways.

While our time in Chiang Mai had begun with some activity, this part of the trip was ultimately defined by really. good. food. During lunch at the Tikky Cafe, I had to follow my favorite Italian (at least I once heard a fellow Italian utter it) mantra: Eat through the pain. I licked clean my pineapple filled with seafood and brown fried rice. With bellies protruding with Thai food babies, we wandered the old city for some hours, coming across lovely scenes and cool coffee shops. 

Ristr8to had a chill vibe and served handcrafted coffee drinks in these skeletal glasses.

Somehow after our meanderings, we found ourselves hungry again. Keith tells everyone visiting Chiang Mai that they have to check out the street corner Burmese restaurant off of Nimmanhaemin Road. Good lawwwwd, the tea leaf and tamarind salads were out of this world. And the total cost of dinner for three women who know how to eat? Four dollars. For serious.

We rolled ourselves into bed that night, indulging our bodies in food comas. This was only to wake up the next morning for an 8-hour Thai cooking class. Anah and I really dug learning how to make curry paste and Thai soups, though Elizabeth, as the restauranteur that she is, was less impressed with the experience. This is something to note if you are considering the Thai Farm Cooking School. Its target audience seems to be amateur chefs. I did find one of our instructors particularly entertaining as she repeated, "More spiiicy, more seeexy," "More hiiigh, more seeexy" (as she pinched salt into dishes from sky high), and "Take it eaasssy." 

Three ladies, so seeexxy.

I added extra chili peppers. You already know what's coming...
More spiiicy, more seeexxyy!

After finishing the cooking class with sticky rice and mango, my Thai kryptonite, Elizabeth took Anah and I on a tour of some of the Chiang Mai temples that she had found on a morning run.

Here's Thailand, offering more enchanting moments.

What I found particularly fascinating about this walk was the way that the old and the new, the East and the West, were juxtaposed. The ancient temples are now surrounded by new restaurants and shops. As the monks chant inside the temples, just next door, Western pop music blares out of speakers at the local establishments. While Elizabeth and I explored inside the temples, Anah hung out outside to people watch. When we returned from inside of one, she recounted watching a monk in his saffron robe and bare feet, exit the 7-Eleven across the street. All of this was just really fascinating.

Kind of in the same same but different way it is fascinating that our stomachs can hold so much food. On the way home from temple gazing and wine sipping, we discovered another restaurant serving tea leaf salad ... and bananas in coconut milk. Omg, I'm so stuffed thinking about this trip right now ... but just not stuffed enough to turn down another papaya salad if it knocked on my door. 

We did follow up our day-o-eating with a day-o-hiking. With a good sense of adventure, we followed most of the directions in this blog to make our way on the Monk's Trail to arrive at Doi Sethup. About halfway up the trail, we came across a meditation area that was just stunning. 

If were were to do this again, we all agreed we would have set out on the hike allowing more time to hang out here.

In between this spot and reaching the temples, three brainy women somehow made a silly mistake (we'll blame it on recovering from the food coma still) and passed right by the big buddha who marks the stairs that ascend to Doi Sethup. I'm not sure how you'd even do the same, but just in case, do not pass Buddha ...

A clear indication that this is the right path. Only foggy brained persons walk past ...

After a 45-minute detour, we did find our destination after all.

Luckily, in spite of all of this talk of food comas and food babies, we still felt rather small ... in comparison to the elephants we spent the day with at Patara Elephant Farm following our hike. This was an experience of a lifetime for me. But hanging out with these grand animals does not come with some responsibility. All over the world, humans and animals are exploited. In Thailand, elephants are often the animals terribly treated so that tourists can have an experience to write home about. My friend Sung shared an article that is worth reading if you are planning a trip to see the elephants. We had done some research before booking our time with Patara, whose mission is rescue, recovery, reproduction, reintroduction. We found the day educational and delightful as we fed the elephants, bathed the elephants, and had an elephant ride. While my gut says Patara is caring for these animals' welfare, there are sources that report any elephant riding is bad for the elephant. I encourage you to do your own research in order to make the decision you feel is most ethically sound. 

Now here come some great photos, folks...

It was difficult to follow this day up, but when we arrived at the The Nest 2 in Chiang Dao in the evening, we found ourselves in a serene setting. This time, we foiled our own initial plans of another good hike because we were very tired ladies after a good deal of action. A slow meander up and down the road near our abode led us to explore the ancient buddhist caves. As we went from expansive spaces to squeezing ourselves into tiny spaces, while listening to bats swoop over our heads, I've never felt more like I was in an Indiana Jones film. 

Beauty in the town square near where you enter the caves.

Anah and Elizabeth are now in Ko Lanta, an island of Southern Thailand, but our last night together was spent over many more courses of Thai food and good wine. 

We talked into the night about the ways in which the trip had somehow changed some part of how we viewed the world. Elizabeth noted how before she had come, she had been told she would experience so much culture shock. What she noted throughout the trip was how accessible the travel was, how unintimidating being immersed in another culture had ended up feeling. Anah and I spoke about how we were more aware of being socially conscious. And this, to me, is perhaps the greatest beauty of travel. One cannot leave a place without the fiber of their being somehow changing shape. 

I am signing off here tonight with words from English writer Gerald Gould:

“Beyond the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wanderlust that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-by!
For the seas call and the stars call, and oh, the call of the sky!

I know not where the white road runs, nor what the blue hills are,
But man can have the sun for friend, and for his guide a star;
And there's no end of voyaging when once the voice is heard,
For the river calls and the road calls, and oh, the call of a bird!

Yonder the long horizon lies, and there by night and day
The old ships draw to home again, the young ships sail away;
And come I may, but go I must, and if men ask you why,
You may put the blame on the stars and the sun and the white road and the sky!”

Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 12: Nights in Shenzhen

Shenzhen does not sleep 

When the sun goes down 

It begins to glow 

Neon hues 

Into the night

I watch on

Sipping red wine

Savoring rich chocolate 

Breathing thick air

As the heavens open up upon the city once more

Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 11: A typhoon day poem on the paradox of chaos

It is the way the wind sounds like big wine barrels rolling down the street

that you notice

when you lay in bed listening sleepily

the way sheets of rain sweep over the city like smoke

that you notice

when you stand still to watch 

the way that time does not stop but slows

that you notice

when you shed the burden of a day’s checklist

It is the silky sweetness of mango on your tongue

that you notice

when your soul stills

the aromatic jasmine of your green tea

that you notice

when you inhale deeply

and the quieter state of the world

that you notice

in the soft light of the after-storm

photo credit: Riley Laird

In search of your spirit, my NieNie

I walked slowly around our lake today.

As I stepped the steps we once stepped together

our voices were carried back to me in the breezes that rustled the leaves.

You'll have a wedding held among the lily pads

I heard you say as I gazed at the water lilies.

I hoped I would see your reflection in the water that softly rippled. 

I wondered if you were there

dancing in the branches of the willow tree,

or riding the tail of the dragon fly.

Maybe you were perched on the wing of the butterfly, fluttering through the air.

I looked for the graceful crane we often delighted in seeing.

Perhaps you were with her, watching on from deep within the reeds. 

To those who make the latitudes and the longitudes

Four years ago, my first year of teaching abroad had just come to a close. I close my eyes today and breath into the past, still feeling the heavy heart I had at the end of that first year, as I came to terms with the transiency of people I had grown close to. Throughout that first year abroad, I often thought, "How can anyone actually do this long term? I cannot do this, I cannot connect with such kindred spirits simply to say goodbye so soon." As I continued to process this part of the experience of life abroad, I did find some solace by reflecting on the ways that new relationships had shifted me, challenged me, and helped me to grow. In this way, these new friends, who were soon to be further away, would stay with me.

What I have also come to see is that as friends have stayed to teach in Ecuador, or settled in Mexico, Venezuela, Albania, and Japan, I continue to learn from them, as they recount their experiences on social media, in blogs, and through our Skype conversations. And then, to my greatest delight, in these past four years, my path has crossed again, in both unexpected and premeditated ways, with international friends. Most recently, I connected with Michelle in Toronto for a whirlwind, three-day tour of the city's best restaurants, a lot of reflections on this past year, and a visit to a museum that I hope residents and visitors to Toronto may venture to, too.

When I landed in Toronto, my first observations were of the diversity of the people. The airport was full of Sikh men wearing dastars, and Muslim women wearing hijabs, and people milling about from dozens of different ethnic heritages. I do not know to what degree this is true, but in my short stay, it did not appear that races or cultures are particularly segregated in Toronto. Internally, I kept noting the smiles on everyone's faces when they greeted me, or one another. As other experiences have reminded me, this is the energy I want to extend towards others, when I am home, and when I represent my country abroad. To have a spirit of kindness, openness, and hospitality, it is to inspire smiles on the hearts of others. I am deeply grateful to all of the strangers in Toronto who placed such smiles onto mine.

Really, I loved the flavor of this city that comes in the form of such diversity ... and, as you must have guessed, that translates then to food. In one day alone, Michelle and I made a world tour simply by visiting restaurants serving Middle-Eastern, Mexican, and Ethiopian cuisine.

Eating at Ethiopiques ... this was dinner numero uno that night.

It is no wonder, then, that Michelle baked this food baby in three short days.
I wasn't there for the birth. That's probably for the best.

There was also amazing Thai food, shared with Sarah and Jameson, and my stay culminated in eating breakfast poutine!

Sipping ciders in the park is a beautiful way to end an evening.

Those are french fries, smothered in cheese, and hollandaise sauce, mixed with sausage and topped with a poached egg.
If your heart just stopped, mine almost did too, after eating the whole bowl. 

So, in this way, Toronto was a moving experience as it inspired my stomach to grow. Michelle and I did at least begin each day with a workout in the park. From the East to the West, it is always about balance.

We did do a couple of other activities aside from eating. One of the first places Michelle took me to, due to an infection, was the health clinic. This is where I learned something about Canadian healthcare. While it was about a three-hour wait, after presenting her health card, Michelle did not have to pay to see the doctor. While the line of patients moved slowly, everyone was so chill. I kept waiting for someone to go up to the desk and ask in an irritable tone about how much longer it would be, but this never happened. Nobody was even tapping their toes, save the little American in her chair. 

In addition to the clinic, I got to experience some beautiful city sites as we went to Harbourfront Music Garden, designed by cellist Yo Yo Ma and landscape designer Julie Moir Messervy. At the Toronto Music Garden, you will find that Bach's Suite Number 1 in G Major has been interpreted through statues, shrubs, flowers, and other landscape design. It is serene. 

It was not this serenity, but heartrending emotion, that I experienced at the Aga Khan Museum. The museum currently houses artwork of Muslim civilizations spanning centuries and a good deal of physical terrain. The artwork includes pottery, rugs, manuscripts and metalwork. I am rather ignorant to the Islamic faith and Muslim culture. I have started a book entitled The Heart of Islam, by Seyyed Hossein Nasr, and I am still working to get my hands on my dear friend's recent publication titled, The War against al-Qaeda in order to learn more. The museum certainly offered a glimpse into the beauty of these Muslim civilizations. 

The exhibit that struck me most, though, was the Syrian Symphony: New Compositions in Sight and Sound, which "explores the roles of art and artists during times of upheaval and conflict." As we listened to the four movements, we walked around the upper floor of the museum, gazing at artwork inspired by the music, and life in Syria. Questions flooded me: To what degree has the West played a hand in the state of affairs of predominantly Islamic countries? What if oil stopped being the commodity that it is? Why do so many of us reduce the Islamic faith to extremism? What will become of Syria and her people? Will light conquer the dark? I looked and listened to the haunting beauty of the music and the art, in a state of wonder and horror, and in awe of the human spirit. 

It is upon this, the human spirit, that I have pondered most in the past four years. It is the depth, the complexity, and the beauty of the human spirit that has me unsettled for too long in any one place right now. I want to be everywhere. Every place, to taste its spirit. Every place, to see its people. Every place, to feel the vibrations that connect us all. 

The physical distance between my family, my friends, and myself that often exists still causes many aches and pains, but it is within the span of this distance that I continue to grow.

While sometimes I would like to gather all of my friends and family in one place, as Thoreau noted, "Nothing makes the earth seem so spacious as to have friends at a distance; they make the latitudes and the longitudes."  

Many thanks to Jeanette and David and Michelle for hosting me in Toronto -- a new city that I love -- for such hospitality, and for more delightful conversations and delicious food. Until our paths meet again, nos vemos.

Love and light,

Jame

A tribute to sisterhood, and to the Windy City

For my 30th birthday, Linds surprised me with a trip to Chicago that included our immediate family of five. The whole weekend felt something like a dream. It was so fun, filled with shopping (Dad was the biggest trooper ever, and he was rewarded with trendy new jeans that could never qualify as "dad jeans" -- ahh, the perks of having three daughters and a fashionable wife), lots of eating (Baci's do this best), and a bit of dancing (it's too bad my nieces were not yet old enough to teach me the best moves, though had I used their moves, I would have likely needed another hotel room).

I hadn't gotten back to Chicago in the past 4.5 years until last weekend, but in that time, Cass was busy collecting field data on multiple research (as far as her husband knew ... research is also known as shopping) trips to the Windy City. Late this spring, she suggested we take a Bacichx trip back to Chi-town when I returned for summer break. Linds and I happily signed on for that adventure, and Cass began planning out the itinerary ... to the minute. By the time we took off early Friday evening, Cass had printed out the weekend play-by-play on gold leaf stationary --a truth or a lie?. Honestly, this is my favorite kind of travel. After making 1,500 decisions each day in the classroom (times 200 school days each year), I will submit to most any travel agenda, but especially those with words like "spa," "shopping," "brunch at ...", "dinner at ...", "drinks at ...", and "Hamilton." (True story: When Cass sent us her favorite song from the musical to listen to, Linds replied, "Not sure that I know who they are, but if you are excited, I am excited!" We love her. So much.)

The following are places that were included on our itinerary -- Cass now has a gig as a travel agent, after salon hours -- that I provide both for those traveling to Chicago, and to the rest of you for some entertainment and sista-friend feels.

Beatrix: This place was Bangin'! We dined here for dinner Friday night. I devoured the chili-chocolate smothered salmon (and shared it with the white jacket I borrowed from Linds) while Linds took down the parmesan-crusted chicken, and Cass got her fork into the steak with chimichurri sauce.

We loved Beatrix so much that we returned two other times, for tea -- spring for a maple cinnamon matcha latte! -- and dessert (deeliiicious gluten-free options available). 

Spa space: A beautifully indulgent experience. While not the same price point as my Asia spa experiences, it was the best facial I have had since we were there 4 and a half years ago. I would like to provide a photo here, but I am part of a micro-generation known as the Xennials, thus in most selfies I do not appear sexy or flirty or cute ... mostly just ... awkward. The Bacichx give this place six thumbs up, though. The robes are super soft, the scents are sweet, and the services are stellar. 

Shopping: Cass has shopping radar like I have never seen before. She walked us right to Magnificent Mile, which was only a short jaunt from our hotel as we stayed at the Cambria. After filling bags from Anthropologie, Lush, and Nordstrom's, I will not be able to purchase any more items at Whole Foods, but, dang, I'll look good walking up and down those grocery store isles. (Fun Fact: Cass's super shopper endorphins get her so high that when she sees a sign that says "Use other door" she runs around the building searching for the other door rather than opening the door in her right hand rather than her left. We love her soo big.)

Eataly: Bacichx gotta eat again, and one afternoon it was Go Italian or Go Home. Eataly is floors of fine foods and restaurants with specialty Italian dishes. My favorite dish here was Linds' pouch of mozzarella, called Burrata at Osteria di Eataly. The cream that oozed onto the plate when you cut into that bag-o-mozza is like silk on your tongue. 

#Sweatworking: While we make a sport out of eating, we also like to get our sweat on, and that we did at Barry's Boot Camp and Soul Cycle. For the past couple of years, I have been writing for A Sweat Life, a health and fitness blog based out of Chicago, the brainchild of Jeana Anderson Cohen. This trip was made especially awesome as Jeana joined us for both workouts. I like the Body Pump class at my gym in Shenzhen, but, seriously, Chicago is the envy of my gym spirit right now. Andrew, our Barry's Boot Camp instructor, with the short shorts (and, umm, best legs) had us doing sprints on the treadmill and then back to the ground for weights and then back to the treadmill and then back to the weights. It was dizzying and awesome and hot tunes were pumpin' the whole time. We loved it. 

(Baci-Sister-So-Smart moment: On the way to the class, I was gazing out the window at the lake, watching people bike around, thinking we could do the same after bootcamp -- cuz I'm crazy -- when I asked, "Hey, how far around this lake?" Now, you see, I've got some good brain cells, but I've got no geography cells. I got the high eyebrow in response to this question ... My sisters love me. So much.) 

Now, that Soul Cycle class was like no cycle class I have experienced before. When Cass signed us up, I had insisted on being in the front of class (because Kellen, our spin instructor, has rad hair and looked caaaayuuute in his photo ... you can follow him on Insta at #homosweatual, so you can see how my best laid schemes were foiled). The class was a comedy of errors. In the beginning, I couldn't get my shoes snapped into the pedals. Then, for the entire class save the last five minutes, my body did not bob to the beat, but rather my head was up when everyone else's was down. Towards the end of class, my bike pushups revealed jell-o-like arms, and when class ended 45-sweaty minutes later, I had to un-velcrow myself out of those shoes, as once they snapped in, they didn't snap out. Throughout the class, Jeana was rockin' it on to my left, and I spent most of class sucking air, hoping she was practicing Zen Soul Cycle with her eyes closed. You know what, though? I'd do it again. On a bike in the back. 

True Food Kitchen: After our sweaty boot camp class, we had brunch with Jeana at this healthy stop. Seriously, the organic, farm-to-table movement hasn't quite reached Shenzhen (note: I am refraining from any street-to-table jokes here as to avoid perpetuating stereotypes). When I come home to the Midwest, I love gobbling up as much super fresh produce and more sustainably and ethically raised cows and chickens. The Spicy Panang Curry will fill you up without giving you a food baby to sweat off again. 

Hamilton!!!: I was quite literally on the edge of my seat for the entirety of the play. The singing, the dancing, the story -- un-believ-able. I wish that I had read up a bit on my 1700s American history before the show as I was scouring Wikipedia at intermission to refresh my mind. Lin-Manuel Miranda is an absolute genius. He had us making up our own raps in bed that night, though stories with rhythm are more his thing than ours. The rest of the fam is returning to Chicago in August to see Hamilton as it does not come to Minneapolis until next year, and it will be worth seeing a second time at the Orpheum in St. Paul. 

Summer House Santa Monica: While Linds needed to get back to her babies, Cass and I hunkered down in Chicago a bit longer, thanks to her friends who are honeymooning in Asia and offered up their cute Lincoln Park apartment to us. In between episodes of Big Little Lies, we needed more sustenance. The Emerald Kale Salad was light and refreshing and provided just the energy I needed to figure out the mysteries of Monterey. 

Growing up, I used to feel that the three of us were so much alike -- especially Linds and I, as we are so close in age, played the same sports, and had many of the same friends. As we have come into adulthood, I see us as more and more different. Sometimes we annoy each other as much as we did when we were little girls, screeching out "REEEEEEAAAAARRR" in the car to make each other crazy. But this is the thing with the Baci sisters: in spite of many differences, our bond is unbreakable. I love sleeping next to them, snort-laughing with them, trying on 1 zillion pairs of pants with them, and talking in the dark with them. 

There is a quote you have probably heard. "Friends are the family we choose." This does ring so true in my life abroad. I have dubbed some of my friends surrogate sisters, and some of their husbands are the brothers I never had by blood. The Bacichx are sisters by blood and friends by choice. I will always choose them. 

(Being a tour guide is exhausting.)