Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 6: Chinese Near Year in Korea: City Lights, Seoul Food and Jeju Island

I started this post the other day, writing on the back side of the sheet of suggestions my students had given me for what to do in Seoul, while I was sipping a honey, peanut latte at one of the Starbucks on Jeju Island. I was pouting. Or, perhaps better put, I was sulking in my chair as I stared out at the blankets of clouds and palm trees blowing hard in the blustery wind. I think I failed this part of my first Chinese New Year trip I grumbled to myself. On the flight over from Seoul, as I am wont to do, I was daydreaming abut what the experience could be like. I really enjoyed my experience in Seoul, I imagined telling my students when school begins on Monday, but I fell in love with Jeju Island. I don't know entirely why I had romanticized and projected such things before arriving, except that sometimes I practice escapism, and I was on a plane, and I don't really like planes, so I was meditating on happier thoughts. Nonetheless, these thoughts had essentially set me up for disappointment. As had the fact that I had done no research before purchasing the ticket to Jeju Island some weeks before. I had not spent five minutes Googling or on Trip Advisor, nor had I put the word out to my well-traveled friends. Sometimes being unplanned and spontaneous works out in one's favor in the form of chance encounters with interesting people and the discovery of quaint restaurants. This time around, though, found me craving kimchi while eating a small Starbucks panini and pondering a visit to the neighboring KFC because I was still hungry and the local restaurants all appeared to be closed for the lunar new year.

I decided the slim silver lining was that the Starbucks was attached to Ripley's Believe It Or Not museum, so I forked over 10,000 won (about 8.50 USD), found an afternoon date, and let my jaw drop a bit.

So this is Mr. Robert Wadlow. Never mind that he is 8 ft 11 in to my 5 ft three-if-I-stand-real-tall.
He was a perfect gentleman as he guided me through this quirky museum. 

We took a look at a chicken wire John Lennon. And we imagined. Imagined, in our hearts and minds, imagined all the people living for today, and living life in peace.

Sometimes I am a dreamer. Maybe someday if you join me, the world will live as one. 

Since soon two will be joined as one, I did also find a Vera Wang made out of toilet paper that I thought I might send back to Linds for her nuptials with Jon. Very elegant in the front ...

with a little view of crack in back. (Cuz you got a bangin' booty, sista! besos :-) ) 

In addition to the museum, the very friendly staff at Hotel The Born helped me to make a spa appointment. I had the strangest massage of my life thus far after Liz and I finished hiking the Inka Trail. This facial proved to be the most interesting of its kind. There was a good deal of light slapping, clapping above my face, some patty-cake between my chin and décolletage, but I walked out of there with skin that was gleaming. Korean women are meticulous about their skin, and it shows. They glow.

By the time my 90-minute treatment was done, my stomach was eating itself. I took my fresh face to dinner next to my hotel.

I mowed down this mackerel. Pretty darn good catch of the day.

Even after a tasty dinner, I returned to my hotel room a bit sour. Until I read a friend's response to the photo above. She posted: Jeju Island is magic -- don't miss the green-tea museum! Jeju Island is magic? I questioned. Mmm, it hadn't really been in my book thus far. But Dalya got me thinking. It's all relative, isn't it. It's all a matter of perspective and experience. And choice. So I got on Google (finally) and found that green tea museum. I messaged Alexandra, who was staying with her friends about 30 minutes away, and inquired about their plans for today. She invited me to join in on some time with her friends. 

So I'll tell you what, today turned out to be awesome. I found some of that magic Dalya noted. 

It looked like this.

And this.

And it tasted like the best green tea I have ever had and the green tea ice cream melted like silk on my tongue
and the sun was so pretty at the O'sulluc Musem.

And I just gave you the introduction and conclusion of my trip without giving you the middle. So, here's what happened in Seoul ...

Throughout this trip, the foodie in me has been quite delighted by the Korean cuisine. 

This was just the beginning, at a restaurant near our hotel in Seoul, in the neighborhood Insadong.

Spending three days in the city, I've become a kimchi addict. I am typing in bed right now, craving this ...

kimchi kimchi kimchi

You can get creative with that crunchy, spicy, healthy, fermented vegetable dish ...

Take a peak at the right corner of our breakfast spread. That is a Swedish pancake thin omelette with kimchi rolled up inside. Somebody has gots to figure out time travel. If I could turn back time ... (I'd eat the whole thing and leave none for my lovely travel companions. I've regressed, Michelle. Back to my old selfish don't-touch-food-in-my-vicinity-lest-I-stab-you-with-a-fork ways.)

After devouring this, we kept with the theme and took down two orders of kimchi fries at Vatos in the trendy neighborhood of Itaewon.

My gut health's looking goooood, friends.

If you are over the food photos, I will go on to detail how we uncovered Korean culture in ways outside of restaurants.

Here we are, Alexandra, Ra Mac and I, outside of one of five palaces of Korea.
Behind us is Gyeongbokgung Palace.

Inside the National Palace Museum of Korea, I was most taken by the traditional dress of the royalty of the Joseon dynasty.

All that silk, the embroidery, the headdress, all so beautiful. And heavy.

This is a photo taken by Rachel showing the cool contrast between the old and the new.
One must marvel at the way history and the present day are juxtaposed.

When the sun went down, we got a taste of how the city burned bright at night. This is in Myeong dong, an area with lots of shops ... predominantly beauty shops for days.

These crowds were surprisingly reserved. Korea was also celebrating the lunar new year, so the city was quieter, but still, I noted that restaurants and populated areas did not put out big decibels as you find in China and the States.

An especially quiet space that we found one afternoon was a cat cafe. While I did leave my dog behind, I am a loyal pup person who misses that spunky Gus like mad. I've also come to love my cuddly daredevil Patacón. My friend Vanessa worries about my trajectory towards cat lady spinsterhood. This won't help my case ...

We had to keep it quiet due to cat nappers.

Some kitties were wide awake, but still not too impressed with our presence.

This is the look I got when I started singing In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeeps toniiiight. Aweemaway, aweeemaway, aweeemaway. Perhaps singing has never been my forte.

Definitely not too cool for school. I am certain they are reading some text about how to take over the world, but I'm all Kitty Choi for president 2020? Yeah, you got my vote.

Vanessa, just a quick note: I did not acquire any more cats on this trip. I did not pack one in my suitcase, did not stuff one in my sweater. Lil' P remains an only child. 

Those cats were actually not nearly as friendly as we found the Korean people to be. I have been fortunate in my travels, and in my life abroad, to come into contact with, and to befriend, countless individuals from dozens of cultures and countries who are divine, interesting, beautiful human beings. Still, I have not experienced such welcome and openness from an entire people as I did here. Walking down the street, sitting in a taxi, or dining at a restaurant, I have spent time reflecting on what I project out, what my appearance is if you are a stranger looking over. Often deep in thought, I think I frequently have furrowed brows. I also sometimes wear a frown because #hangry is my middle name, and I am a 34-year-old hypoglycemiac who has not learned to keep snacks close at hand. 

This humor aside, citizens of Seoul, you have prompted me to ponder the faces I wear around town. You have warmed my heart with your welcoming nature. You have shown me some of the beauty about a culture I previously knew so little about. Thank you. 

I'm pooped now. I fly out in the morning to go back to Seoul to catch a flight back to China.

I'm out. 

Peace, family and friends. Peace and love.

Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 5: The weekend I fell in love

I remember when it happened in Quito. It was many moons after the initial enamorment, and it was some time after my frustrations over flaws and undesirable qualities had quieted. Yes, some months into my move to Ecuador, I fell in love with that developing city. If I wanted to be critical, I could find blemishes on every street, but when I was able to look past imperfections, I discovered a city that was willing to wrap its arms around me. I had fallen in love before, but as a former inamorato said to me, each relationship is its own universe. And this I see to be true. Each relationship establishes its own balance, its own yin and yang, its own spirit.

As the Universe is gracious, I was granted another chance at love. This is the weekend I found that I had fallen in love with Shenzhen. As with Quito, it was certainly not love at first sight. While I have acknowledged the attempts made to make this sprawling city green, the air quality has kept me from running outside on numerous days. If you take the time, you can find cool temples and quaint spots to dine, but the city is young, and lacks soul and history. And so it is that I have been holding something of a grudge, withholding my deeper affections for my new home.

But this weekend reminded me that relationships are about more than appearances; they are about the total package. You’ve got to look to the layers, like those of a sweet yellow onion; some will make you cry, but when you sauté them in butter, you get a real taste of the sweetness. 

And layers this weekend did have. 

As I wax poetic, I will start the weekend early. Thursday marked my 34th birthday, and I am one of those people who will shamelessly say that I love to be celebrated on this day of my birth (though it still seems weird that we are not showering my parents with gifts as they gave me life). It was my students who made this lady feel so special as they surprised me with a homemade brownie birthday cake. I paused to reflect on my relationships with all of my students, and continued to feel grateful to be working with each of them. 

One sweet crew.

The night was capped off with dinner at Baia, with a squad of lovely ladies ... and more chocolate cake.

Friday was a frenzy of teaching and grading as we prepare for the end of our semester. I had salsa plans with the lovely Latina Ceci, but sometimes the best laid schemes go askew when sweet babes are feeling crummy. So one minute I am in my pjs baking and prepping for Saturday night, and the next I find myself sipping a beer with the handsome German from my building. And God does it feel good to have a touch of romance, a bit of intrigue, introduced again. One beer, one night, or many more, who cares at this point. Let’s just shake things up. Here's to spontaneity and flirtation and feeling sexy.

And then Saturday turned sublime. Because lunch with Deborah at Panini Station is full of girl talk and her exciting plans for South Korea next year. Because Nanshan Flower Market with Linda is full of beautiful scenes and floral aromas and bright reds in preparation for Chinese New Year. Because progressive dinners with women who represent a handful of countries, with women who are strong, with women who are real, helps me to reflect that I have a beautiful tribe here. 

The year of the Rooster.

Orchids abounded, and so did the mystery fruit on these trees.

House hopping and fine food and fabulous friends.

Right now I am toasting Sunday, sipping a glass of merlot, with Patacón having tucked herself into the crook of my arm. Nanshan mountain — which lies right outside my door, and amounts to hundreds of stairs that climb up to a pagoda that overlooks the ocean — offered many breaths of fresh air and a long look at clear blue skies this morning. I do not take these things for granted now. After sprucing up my home by potting the plants I bought yesterday at the market, a trip to All City Mall proved fruitful. A long red wool coat that I know NieNie would have loved is going to keep me warm in South Korea this week. And oh so independent and victorious am I feeling that I am learning more about how to use the metro. 

So I’m saying I’m sweet on you, Shenzhen. I am finally getting in the rhythm with our give and take. I see how you are going to push me to grow, how many of the exasperated moments are leading me to further expand my horizons, hone my patience and remember my privilege. We have established our peace, Shenzhen. And I feel like I am home. 

Two weeks, two years ... and a bundle of unpredictable events

On Sunday, December 6th, I was chatting with Michelle, telling her I wanted to detail a day this year and then write about the same day in 2016. She suggested that I wrote about a whole week this year, and then the same week in December of 2016. I liked her idea, so I pulled up the blog and wrote out the days of this week, beginning with Monday, December 7th. And here I am on Wednesday, first getting a moment to reflect on the days. It has been an unexpected week, as many are...

Monday, December 7, 2015
It began with school as usual. My kids this year simply rock. I have a renewed passion for teaching and I rarely get out of bed begrudgingly (and if I do, it is more due to insomnia than dread of my classroom). We have been reading Durrenmatt's The Visit, a satirical play criticizing greed and the corruption of justice. After school, I ran around Carolina with Alli and Charles. We're trying to make a routine of after school Monday runs. I'm loving the workout company and giving my yoga and TRX routine a change-up.

After our run, I came home and began preparing for my Spanish lesson with Mery, whom I had invited to dinner as I had made a minestrone soup on Sunday, which I believed to be all the more tasty in the presence of good company. I was putting the soup in a pot to heat up when Linds texted and told me that the whole family had been summoned to Edgewood, where Grandpa has been residing for over a year, as hospice had told them that he may be on his last hours. The news came as a surprise; Grandpa's mind has been gone for some months now, but his health has stayed in pretty sound condition. My thoughts immediately turned to Grandma when Mery was ringing my buzzer. She was a good soul to have here as the tears came upon her entrance. A big embrace and her words of kindness and comfort were so welcome.

She didn't stay long. After her departure, I began making calls to change my flight home for Friday. A nearly sleepless night followed.

One of my favorite photos of Grandpa. He and Gus were such buddies.

Grad school graduation. I loved being sandwiched between these two.

Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Despite my foggy brain, the school day went rather well. Administration was understanding as I told them I would be missing seven days of school. I tried to begin my sub planning, but fighting fatigue took all of my energy.

Nicole and I try to keep to a walking routine on Tuesdays. Carolina again. The fresh(ish) air and company was good for the soul. And little Lolita, her pug, adds some humor to all of our jaunts. We conversed a good deal about where our futures would take us. There is currently a good deal of ambiguity for us both. Chile, Mexico...perhaps the Dominican Republic for me??

Michelle came over after dinner to drink wine and feign work. My world is full of good people. Always.

Wednesday, December 9, 2015
Worked towards preparing the kiddos for the essay exam on Friday. The best part of this school day was Alli's gingerbread loaf. That woman has a way with molasses.

Decided to go for a mani/pedi after school and then promptly walked to Megamaxi afterwards to stock up on chocolate to bring home. Note this: I did not break into any of it tonight. It is sitting on the counter untouched. There are still nearly three hours in this days, though.

Knocked out a good TRX session on the terrace. It was nice to do the workout in the dark tonight. The lights on the mountains and in the valley below were quite pretty.

I'm obsessed with pesto right now. And zucchini noodles.

Quick chats with Mom and Cass and Ana followed.

About to activate my Search Associates account and settle into bed with Americanah.

Thursday, December 10, 2015
I may have spent my preps today digging through Search Associates. I might have expanded my search to include Europe now, rather than just Latin America. I may also have fleetingly thought of the possibility of South Africa. I am now audibly groaning at my desk. Oh, ambiguity.

Celeste and I are working out together. We try to buddy up each Thursday, switching casas for a little sweat fest. Her place today. FitnessBlender and myyogaworks.com. Let's do it.

Then it will be on to packing for my take-off tomorrow night.

Friday, December 11, 2015
School as usual.

A good walk with Nicole and Lola afterwards. I came home to a message from Linds to call. I knew what this meant. Grandpa had passed. I sat down on my couch to let the news settle as the sun was setting behind the mountains. The fireworks this night were most certainly for Grandpa. We will celebrate the man he was and the good life he lived with two services, one in Blaine on Tuesday and the other in Superior on Thursday.

I went to the airport at 9:45 to head home. As I was about to grab an apple to snack on, I shook my head and picked up a Snickers bar. It's what Grandpa would have voted for.

Saturday, December 12, 2015
I landed in Atlanta at 5:45 am. The first thing I always pick up when arriving Stateside is a tea latte.

Linds picked me at MSP at 10 am and we were on our way back home. We stopped at Chad's to tell the Chica Littles about Grandpa. They were sweet and brave.

Mom and Gram and Dad were home when Linds and I pulled up to Mom and Dad's house. It's so good to be home.

The family and two of Dad's friends when to Ichiban's for dinner and Gram, Dad, Mom, Abby and I went on to a Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant Christmas concert at the Target Center.

I slept like a baby with a full belly.

Sunday, December 13, 2015
Nothing fights insomnia like my bed at Mom and Dad's. I slept soundly until 9 am. Stretched and watched some Food Network and then went to Linds' place for a sweaty Insanity workout.

Dad made some breakfast Elk sausage for brunch.

Now I am at Gram's, typing to the smell of her homemade Swedish meatballs, about to begin composing Grandpa's biography.

This evening I'll now get to attend Alyssa and Joel's benefit at Brewhaus and hug a bunch of other friends.

And this night ended with a sleepover at Gram's. And cuddling up in her bed on Monday morning.

And a year later ...
Wednesday, December 7, 2016
I should have been asleep when the clock struck midnight, turning the 6th into the 7th, but, alas, I was not. I was, rather, dangling a little basket with food by a thin rope to the balcony one floor below me. Patacón took a big leap last night. I left the window open, just a crack, and before I knew it, gone like the wind. After a number of hours of playing MacGyver with the concierge man, Martin, one of my new besties, that curious cat actually got in the basket, and hunkered down in it while I pulled her up to the 17th floor. I doubted Martin's outrageous idea (and wondered where the hell the Chinese firefighters were hiding), but it worked. My cat has never been so quiet as she was when she was back in my arms. She slept soundly, while adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. At least it made for an entertaining story for 1st block today ...

This is Martin. This was his brilliant idea. That is indeed the basket that Patacón willingly climbed into, and rode like an escalator back to safety ... or back to heaven as she now realizes home is ...

Despite her angelic look here, she's just plotting her next mischievous act.

And the funny thing about my juniors? We just finished reading The Visit today. One year ago today, I was reading it with my Americano seniors ... totally ignorant to the trajectory of my future in China. Oh, Life. You and your plot twists.

Thursday, December 8, 2016
Recapping Thursday while I sit in my classroom Friday morning ... and I can hardly conjure what I did yesterday. This phenomena I continue to call #ChinaBrainFreeze ... but nearly five months into my new life, I feel I am losing time to be able to claim my memory loss is due to the big shift.

Squinting into the past 24 hours ago, I can vaguely conjure the memory that I went to the gym. I don't have my Celeste and Alli (but I'll have those Densons back next year!!), and my TRX is getting dusty, but I've joined a gym with good classes and a working set of weights. A good hour of cardio used to by my norm, but yesterday's 45-minute elliptical/treadmill session was longer than I usually get in as of the past months.

Friday, December 9, 2016
Inspired by Alli and Charles, I have begun to arise around 5 am to do a morning workout several days a week. A myyogaworks session revved my appetite ... and a growing tradition in Shekou is to meet up with my friend Alexandra for breakfast at Emily's, a sweet little cafe close to school. I miss many of my traditions from Ecuador, but making new ones is quite fun.

Off to Hong Kong tonight to see Wicked. Having easy access to the arts and culture of our nearby island is a treat here.
...
Oh, that performance was something wicked. I loved being back at the theatre, and I was in good spirits as I walked to the van with my friends to head back to the mainland. And all was well ... until we were approaching the border, and I am filling out the form to cross back into China, it dawns on me ... that I have made a mistake. I have failed to bring with me the passport with my Chinese visa inside. When I also remember that I have a photo of the visa on my phone, I am momentarily hopeful ... but the reality is, I am no longer in Kansas, or Quito; sweet smiles or whiney words will not get me what I want here; without the proper papers, I will not be re-entering the mainland.

And so here is how it goes down:

It is just before midnight when I am escorted back across the Hong Kong border into a taxi. (I forgot to mention that the border closed behind us and the border was closing in front of us as we were trying to figure out my ordeal ... the whole van of us nearly got stuck in no-man's land for the night.) I am scrambling to try to figure out what to do as the taxi speeds back towards Hong Kong, the key to my Shenzhen apartment, where my old passport with my visa hides, now in the hand of my friend Clayton. In my phone, I also have the phone number and address for Charles' aunt Linda. She and I had dinner before I flew home this fall. I use the taxi driver's phone to call her ... twice. There is no answer ...

Saturday, December 10, 2016
As I cannot get a hold of Linda, I ask the driver to bring me to a hotel in Central. Just before 1 am, the taxi driver drops me off at what I believe is an hotel, and speeds off into the night. I walk up to the concierge, explain that I need a room for the night to which he responds, "Oh, we're not a hotel." Befuddled, I turn myself in a circle, trying to get my bearings and figure out where in the devil I am now. I ask the man the address of the building and figure out that the taxi driver has indeed driven me to Linda's place. When I give the kind man in the entrance my name and Linda's, he smiles and responds, "She's just walked in." Dang, I think, Aunt Linda's got more stamina than I do. 

A confused Linda answers her phone as the doorman rings her; she welcomes me upstairs. When I step into her gorgeous 36th floor apartment, I have to chuckle as she tells me, "I've just taken off my shoes. I walked in my door 30 seconds ago from Singapore." #TimingIsEverything. We chat, and we laugh, and Linda offers me pajamas, a toothbrush and a comfy bed. For such a mishap, it's worked out pretty well now.

In the morning, the passport and clothes that Clayton has retrieved from my house and passed off to Yvette arrive. And the rest of the day went as Yvette and I had planned out earlier in the week.

We dive into a delightful brunch, and then we made our way over to the Jade Market, purchasing some pretty jewelry for ourselves and for gifts, and MTR on to the Wanchai area, finding more cute cafes where we sip hot chocolates, ending at Coffee Academics to meet up with Mervin, the attractive jack of all trades who lived in Minneapolis, worked with a couple of my college friends on some 48-hour film stuff, and now owns a farm in Cambodia. Wishing we had more time to chat, we sip drinks until the last minute, rush off in a taxi, and just make the last ferry back to the mainland, where I do make it across the border.

What a day.

Sunday, December 11, 2016
It was a build your own triathlon kind of day. A hike up the hundreds of stairs of Nanshan mountain to get a clear view of the ocean, some weight-lifting at the gym, and a stretchy yoga session was a much needed trifecta of activity to reset myself for the upcoming week of finals ... the final stretch before being home for Christmas.

The pagoda at the top of Nanshan ... on a clear day like this, you get a lovely view of the ocean below.

I spent a lovely evening at Alexandra's planning more details of our trip to Korea for Chinese New Year, and watching Love Actually. There's no snow (it's still 77 degrees today), and few holiday decorations in the city, but now it's beginning to feel like Christmas.

Monday, December 12, 2016
Final exams began today. Later this week I am about to see a large stack of essays pile up on my desk, screaming for attention before I can board that plane for home.

I went for a pedicure after school, but returned to help moderate The Great Debate; the 8th grade students had to research both sides of artificial intelligence. I was in for a treat. Most students came dressed up, some popping their collars beneath their suit jackets (mmm, kind of adorable), and they were much more composed than I was at that age, using credible evidence to argue their cases. #sisrocks indeed. <3

Tuesday, December 13, 2016
Those essays hadn't turned up on my desk just yet (all of my students take finals on Wednesday), so I made my way up to my friend Britt's classroom to work on an art project as part of a belated birthday gift. I am struggling to keep focused this week, but I got lost in the lines and the colors. It was like therapy.

Workouts continue with a group of my friends at school ... today we took it to the gym for a good weight workout. #sisSweats ... and next year Alli and Charles will be my fitness friends in the flesh again!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It is now Wednesday morning as I finish up reflecting on these two weeks. I walked into these weeks thinking they would be predictable and full of the status quo, but now that I am thinking about it, weeks in my world are rarely mundane or predictable. When you live abroad, teach, own a cat ... no, when you just live, life has an adventure in store around every corner, it seems.

Signing off with my new favorite quote this morning ...

Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. All things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.

L.R. Knost

For one of my great loves

Today we gathered to celebrate an extraordinary woman. My grandmother, who her grandchildren have forever called Nienie, has been a model of strength and independence. She was a trailblazer in male-dominated fields, becoming the first female executive at Burlington Northern Railroad, a "citizen of the world" having traveled to over 20 countries, and a passionate learner her entire life. And she was one of my soulmates. 

I put my heart into the following words, to honor her today at celebration of her life, held at Central Lutheran Church in Minneapolis.

Over a decade ago, I was living with Nienie for the summer in her condo by Lake of the Isles. One night, after dinner, she pulled out a poem for me by German poet Rainer Maria Rilke. It is a poem that I find a way to share with my students each year, a poem that was framed above my bed here, and a poem I come back to frequently when I need some grounding, when I need a reminder to open myself up to the present moment and whatever it is bringing. I would like to share it now with you.

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,

then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,

go to the limits of your longing.

Embody me.

Flare up like a flame

and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.

Just keep going. No feeling is final.

Don't let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.

You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.

An excerpt from this poem made its way into a memoir I wrote this September, as I was drafting a piece alongside my students. Unsuccessfully fighting back tears in my classroom one morning, as my new sophomores worked quietly at their desks, I began writing…

My eyes keep welling up with tears. I wish I had a better poker face, but her image materializes in my mind’s eye and I feel my breath catch. My lip quivers. And my throat tightens. The news  still feels unreal, surreal, a hoax, a bad joke, it can’t be true.

I float back to Argentina. Just two years ago; our South American adventure inspired by my life in Ecuador. Images arise … The Japanese Garden, shoe stores, fine dining, the best steak, the clear crystalline sky. And then we’re stirring a big pot. I look up at Nienie, as I am grinning and laughing because isn’t it fun to stir the pot, so to speak, to mix things up, create just a bit of chaos? This pot simmers with rabbit stock, butter, onions and white wine. We’ll be throwing in more veggies soon, potatoes and brilliant and bright bell peppers. They’ll hit our tongues and make our tastebuds tango.

Tango … tango … tango … Another summer night. My 20-year-old anxious self sits with NieNie in her front room, the one with windows to the street, the one with the tall giraffe, wooden, brought back from one of her trips to another exotic place. And Julie, with her beautiful French accent, is with us this night too, visiting from Paris. Cold Bryer’s vanilla ice cream is slowly melting in our bowls, dressed in chocolate sauce and buttoned with walnuts. Soothing words Julie and Nienie are speaking to my scared and shaky soul, about to embark for a semester in Spain. Through Rilke’s poem she tells me, “You, sent out beyond your recall, go to the limits of your longing.”

So some weeks later, I do. I take her words and Rilke’s, and I fly the farthest I’ve ever been on my own. And it’s unnerving and dizzying and brilliant to be planted on Spanish soil for those four months. It is somehow serendipitous the way I have come back to the place I first traveled with my NieNie, my grandmother onlookers mistake for my mother. A common misconception that we giggle at, smile at and delight in.

I thought we’d have so many more times to laugh and travel and sip wine and simply talk, letting our voices drift into the air, our thoughts and words mingling together with the birds that chirped outside of her window. Another warm, summer night we sat comfortably in a moment of silence. But she broke the stillness. “I’m sick” she simply said. “I have metastasized lung cancer.”

Such words inspire disbelief and confusion and anger and devastation. She is my NieNie. She is the one who has inspired me in the kitchen, inspired my love of culture, inspired my heart, inspired my mind. She has grown my soul.

And now I sit here today, and I can’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes, from making a river down my cheeks, as memories come back to me.

Memoir, memories, moments. Moments that weave themselves into the fabric of our beings. If I am a tapestry, she is the red thread that adds depth to my design’s beauty.

I use the present tense here today still … she is the red thread that adds depth to my design’s beauty. Nienie’s body is not here to hug, or to sip wine with. We cannot do those things we delighted in doing with her, be it debating politics or the latest book club read or planning a time to meet at a movie. But her spirit is still here among us, as we share stories … about times we laughed with her, about times we cried with her, about times we cooked with her. We can tell stories about the way she molded our minds, about the way she encouraged us, and about the way she loved us … These stories are braided into all of our beings. Nienie’s body is not present with us today, but her spirit lives on in each of us.

I recently came across a Rumi quote. That ancient Persian poet long ago wrote: The day is gone, but my story is not finished. All of us here today are Nienie’s living story. and we will carry  her with us through remembering her wisdom when we are shopping. When we walk into Neiman Marcus, Nienie’s favorite shopping phrase will pop into our heads. CPW, cost per wear … Yes, yes you can spend a small fortune on those shoes, as long as you will wear them, everyday, for the rest of your life. We carry her into our days as we continue her traditions, when we let our children or grandchildren eat dessert before dinner, as long as it is Bryer’s vanilla ice cream with Pepperidge Farm cookies, because this pairing is indeed a perfect prelude to steak, a bit of salad, and lots of french bread. Her words are woven into ours when we retell the stories she loved to tell us, like about the time that her eldest son climbed the roof to fly off it just like Superman. Nienie’s story does continue now as we draw on the strength and perseverance that we learned from watching her.  

I love you to the infinity where your soul now exists, Nienie.

Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 4: A Week Without Walls

It is October 29th today, and I have now been living in Shenzhen for 13 weeks. While the past couple of months have offered moments of triumph and awe, many of the days in these past weeks I have been feeling the slump ... the expat slump that those of us living and teaching abroad experience each time we plant ourselves on new soil; the Slump is not germane to any one particular place, but rather connected to the decision to be a bit nomadic. So, the first few months feel something like this:

Less important are the details of the big dip you see above, as what I want to celebrate here is that we are climbing back up the ladder to that place where my emotions express themselves with fewer tears and with more sincere smiles. 

This past week I had the privilege of taking a trip with three of my colleagues and our 10th grade class. This is an annual event coined Week Without Walls, and it is all about learning life lessons outside of the classroom. My initiation into this extraordinary experience was the perfect anodyne for the newbie blues; super sophomores and interesting and entertaining colleagues paired with fantastic food and a dose of real China has my spirits lifted. I must show you a bit of what the week looked like ...

On Monday we flew into Lijiang, a town in Yúnnán province described as "a fairyland blessed with fresh air, clear streams, breathtaking snowy mountains, and an undisturbed landscape." No false advertising here; Lijiang lives up to it all. 

Old Town Lijiang
photo credit: Sophomore Sean, the trip's resident photographer
More of his beautiful photographs are featured throughout this post.

When we arrived to Lijiang's airport, we were met by five enthusiastic Dragonfly staff members. Dragonfly is an organization with a mission to engage students in outdoor education and experiential learning throughout China and Asia. As a teacher, they made my life crazy enjoyable and easy as they had organized the whole week's activities. (They also won my heart as they made the teachers coffee each morning ground from local beans. Even after living in Ecuador for three years, this has been the best coffee to touch my tastebuds.)

The first activity the students were engaged in was a Great Race throughout Old Town. I loved following around my small group to different locations in the city, watching them read maps much better than I do, as we walked on the old stone streets, passing countless quaint storefronts.

The architecture and history of Lijiang was perhaps my first real glimpse into the richness and true beauty of China. And let's note the crystalline blue sky, something I had previously deduced did not exist in this country. How happy I am that I was proven wrong. 

The team building skills the students were honing during this scavenger hunt allowed us to check out the sweet spots in Old Town; this same ability to work as a team would help the students constructively participate in the community service planned for the coming days. 

After completing The Great Race, we piled back into the bus and drove about two hours to Shaxi, another rural town in Yúnnán province. Reflecting back on both Lijiang and Shaxi, I have to christen these picturesque places Boutique Rural. They are indeed a glimpse into #realChina, but other towns and villages must be more rustic and poor, as there are such layers in any country. 

That first night in Shaxi the Dragonfly staff implored the students to develop lesson plans to teach local primary school students about holidays that the SIS students celebrate. The following morning looked a bit like this:

I love these kids, and their smiles. The school children were totally delighted to be learning from our students.

It was a great deal of fun to see the #sissophomores become such natural teachers.

And to see the concentration and happiness on the faces of these beautiful children.

Throughout the day, I was impressed with the way that our students were able to connect with and teach the local children, in spite of a language barrier. Body language and facial expressions go a long way. 

Their may indeed be a budding teacher or two amongst these sophomores. Their talent does extend into the arts as well. The following day we spent from morning into the afternoon painting murals at a nearby kindergarten. Check out how blank canvasses became masterpieces ...

First, a bit of priming ...

Voilà! Welcome to the jungle, kinders!

In a primary school, there is sure to be some monkey business.

SpongeBob had to make his appearance. Had to.

A fabulous representation of the most famous sea creatures.

Maybe one of the students who attends this school will be on that spaceship someday ...

but for now, playing Pirates may seem more fun. Where should we bury the treasure??

As a quick side note, while I was watching the students' imaginations take shape on these walls, a pig was slaughtered right outside the school. This is #Chinaliving. I will spare you all of the details, but I did watch the whole gutting process. That was my schooling for the day.

The community service at these primary schools helped us to ponder more deeply the mark we leave on communities, and the way it feels so good to be part of something bigger than ourselves. We were also privileged enough to hang out in nature and learn more about Chinese culture ...

There was this lovely hike.

A bike ride to see more of the countryside.

At the Old Theatre Inn we watched five traditional dances, and then learned a few ourselves.

(In the midst of these adventures and activities was a lot ... a lot of Chinese food. I never set my chopsticks down long enough to take more #shamelessfoodphotos, so I cannot make your mouths water right now, but I will buy a new pair of pants to indulge in authentic Chinese cuisine.)

And stargazing. This was the most awe-inspiring for many of our students as a good number of them have grown up in big cities like Shenzhen where all kinds of pollution can block the wonders of our galaxy. Here it is in all its glory.

Teachers spend a good deal of time collecting data, using assessments and rubrics to mark student growth. This all has purpose, but I needed none of this during Week Without Walls to understand how my students' minds were expanding. I listened to them rework their holiday lessons when something did not go quite right with one group. I listened to them reflect each night. And I listened to them ask me, "Ms. Baci, how many Wow Moments are you having each day?" The truth is, I lost track. 

I go to bed tonight with a content spirit. I am living in a beautiful country, working with awesome students, befriending brilliant colleagues. 

Cheers to you, SIS Sophomores.

#weekwithoutwalls2016 #sissupersophomores #sisrocks

Once I was seven years old

Lucas Graham, 7 Years, revised

Once I was seven years old, my daddy told me You can be anything that you want to be. Once I was seven years old.

It was a big big world, and I felt so much smaller. The world was pushing my limits, at times I wanted to hide. By eleven worry and fear my self felt a divide
At times unsteady mama and daddy told me take deep breaths Once I was eleven years old, my mama told me Your daddy and I love you and we're here for you. Once I was eleven years old. I started to have that dream like my great grand-dad before me So I started thinking big, set my eyes across the sea Something about the challenge, just always seemed to draw me Cause only those I really love will ever really know me

Once I was twenty years old, my story started to unfold Before the Spanish sun, when life was lonely. Once I was twenty years old. I only see my goals, I don't believe in failure. Cause I know the smallest pushes, they can strengthen my spirit I got my friends with me at least those in favor
And if we don't meet before I leave, I know I'll see you later.

Once I was 20 years old, my story started to unfold I was thinking about everything, I saw before me Once I was 20 years old. Soon we'll be 40 years old, our stories still unfold I'm traveling around the world and I'm still roaming. Soon we'll be 40 years old. I'm still learning about life
My nieces bring me so much joy
Got so many friends who love me Now we're in each other's stories
Sweet nights with my grandmothers
Teach me so much of their wisdom
Fill me with faith and peace And remind me where I'm from

Soon I'll be 50 years old, my daddy got 58 Remember life and then your life becomes a better one
I make the man so happy when he sees me gettin' stronger
I hope that we will all meet again, once or twice on this path Soon I'll be 40 years old, will I think the world is cold
Or will I remember your beauty in the darkness Soon I'll be 50 years old Soon I'll be 60 years old, will I think the world is cold Or will I remember your beauty in the darkness Soon I'll be 40 years old Once I was seven years old, my mama told me Your daddy and I love you and we're here for you. Once I was seven years old Once I was seven years old

Life with Chinese Characteristics, Chapter 3: You pack yourself wherever you go

I am sitting at my kitchen table this Saturday afternoon, devouring a sweet cantaloupe while I page through today's purchase: my first adult coloring book. I bought the Enchanted Forest Inky Quest and Colouring Book, along with a very nice set of colored pencils, today when I was near to tears simply because the bookstore in the China mall had books ... only in Chinese. Mmm, correction, the bookstore did carry Orwell's 1984 in English. The same 1984 that is sitting near my bed that I haven't opened in weeks because, dude, that book is dark, too dark for my state of mind right now. Sigh. China moments and first world problems.

So, I am sitting here, kind of slumped over the table, scratching my head, squinting into the past when I was packing eight weeks ago, preparing for my arrival to Shenzhen. I do remember carefully rolling up ... no, I remember Linds and Cass carefully rolling up a number of pairs of shorts, shirts, some cute dresses and a number of pairs of shoes, and laying them neatly in my suitcase. I do distinctly remember adding almond butter, many bars of dark Ecuadorian chocolate, the Asian robe from NieNie's closet, and my heart shaped measuring spoons that Gram gave me some years ago. And my teddy bear, my companion since the day that I was born. Yes, I remember all of those things getting zipped up into my red suitcases. What I really do not recall, though, is packing my anxiety. Really, I  mean, I've been concerned about early onset Alzheimers, and now this is kind of more fuel for that fire, because I thought I remembered leaving my anxiety on some high Andean mountain. Yeah, Alli, correct me if I am wrong, but didn't that get left to freeze at the top of Cayambe?

It turns out, apparently not. For a woman who has such a good sense of self, I sometimes marvel at how I have to learn things about myself time and time again. Mom and Dad are not surprised when I call home, weepy and worried. Me, though, I keep thinking and hoping that I've conquered my anxiety, scared it away, or stomped it down. But, as it stands, here I am again, trying to figure out how to talk sense to the side of myself that thinks ...

What's that noise outside my door? Wait, did that come from my balcony? Shit, how did someone scale up 17 floors ... Remember, Jamie, Michelle said if someone could get on your balcony, he must be Superman, and in that case, you should most definitely invite him in ...

Ah, this is so nice. Yoga really does Zenify my soul. And downward facing dog feels so good on my calves after Body Pump this week ... hey, is that a freckle ... or a mole between my toe? What's the difference again? Crap, what are the ABCs of skin cancer detection again? Asymmetry, border irregularity ... ugh, I don't remember the rest ...

Grrr, are my eyes getting even worse? I've never been to an ophthalmologist. Does the Costco optometrist really know what he's doing? What if I have a degenerative eye disease and I go blind by my 34th birthday? Will Nat and Gia be willing to take care of a blind auntie? ...

What? My air quality app says that Beijing offers better air to breath than Shenzhen again? So today it's like smoking 3/4 of a cigarette, yesterday was a half of a cigarette, times this all by two or more years ...  To what extent will this affect the color of my lungs?! ... Where's my Cuban cigar? ...

Mom said the cyst wouldn't get to be the size of an egg. But, Mom, it is. It is precisely the size of a quail egg, I just measured ...

Okay, put on your brave face. You are going to have surgery to remove the cyst. The doctors in Hong Kong are world class, so what luck you are just right across the bay, so, it ain't no thang ... except ... except last time you had a cyst removed Mom was with you ... and why is my body so cyst-y? ... cysts on my ovaries, cysts in my feet ... what's next? ...

Oh my gosh, what if they have to remove the Morton's Neuroma too, and the nerve gets messed up. For the rest of my life. Worse than now! ... What if there is actually something wrong with my nervous system. Are Morton's Neuromas part of your nervous system? What if my system is, like, short-circuiting? What if all of my nerves have to be replaced, one by one. How many nerves do we have in our bodies? ... Google ... Gooooogle ...

Charles said maybe I shouldn't put all of my anxieties out there when I am just making new friends. Right, he told me this the weekend we were in Mindo and I was afraid that Michelle could fall through the top bunk onto my bunk and squish me, and I just didn't want to go by Death By Bestie. And now here I am writing all of this anyway. And, sugar, that weekend was after we climbed Cayambe. Even in my happy place of cloud forest hikes and a world-class chocolate factory, I face it ... I really didn't leave my anxiety to crack in the ice after all ...

Are you exhausted now? Because I am. I am positively pooped. How is it I can be so brilliant and wise and witty, and laugh with such a carefree and happy spirit part of the time, and be a complete ball of nerves and worry the other part?

...

As I sit here writing, something is materializing; it's my yin and my yang. It exists all around us, right? Contradictions, inseparable opposites. I haven't put it altogether yet, but somehow it seems anxiety spurs my creativity, pushes me to be stronger, motivates me to find presence in the moment. It makes me uncomfortable and conscientious at times, but perhaps I shouldn't be trying to fight against it. It simply creates a civil war within. So, I'm working on it, working on hugging my whole self, working on being okay that all of the parts of me got packed. Because, really, we all are paradoxes of sorts. I think paradoxes are beautiful.

Photo credit