the end, the beginning

it's the end of the year. i'm within about 26 hours from the beginning of 2011 and i'm feeling a little melancholia creeping into my sensibilities. on one hand, i've got so many things to look forward to--i've got a one week writing class on Jeju Island, a 2 week excursion to Indonesia, a new apartment, new job...
but on the other hand, i'm *still* just me. the same person with the same failings and issues as i had 365 days ago. it's not that i haven't grown in a lot of ways, i just have a lot of problems. i know i know: it is unrealistic to be "perfect", but it really irks me that i carry some of the same problems with me from year to year.

i wonder if i can change. if i can be different. i wonder if i'll stop having crazy dreams about my ex-husband. i wonder if i'll *do* something this coming year. i wonder if i'll be able get over this apathy that has crept into my sensibilities.

but optimism always bubbles back to the surface. as depressed and dark things are sometimes, i know that the time i have on this planet is precious. that something about Today's passing was valuable, even though i spoke to and interacted with very few people.
this new year is an opportunity for something different to happen, but i'm not fooling myself. true change is not based upon the turning of the calendar pages. it's a stumbly journey of mistakes and development and growth and fuck-ups. for now, new days will continue to dawn and the Hope that warms me when i *really* think about the universe is a mercy that i'm profoundly grateful for.

good-bye 2010. it was an aiight run. but i'm gonna cheat on you with 2011.

my life is AWESOME

i was just informed that i will be "working from home" for the next two months. i have to come into school for one week in February and submit about a semester's worth of lesson plans, but that's it. i'm already half-way done with that.
if you care about that AT ALL and/or are cognizant of what this implies in the context of the Korean educational system: i'm swearing you to secrecy! please, don't hate. that's the way that things roll, you know? sometimes you find a $100 bill on the ground and sometimes your friend does. sure, you might feel a little envious, but you wish them well and accept the pack of gum they buy you from the next convenience store you pass.

the idea of 8 weeks of freedom is a little overwhelming. what will i do with myself? unstructured time is not something i deal with very well. i'll need a project.

writingWRITINGwriting. certainly. i'm not sure what i'll write about... maybe restart my book? ugh. probably not. start a new one?

i'll be taking care of myself. sleeping a lot. eating right. cooking yummy food. oh! maybe i'll learn how to cook a new genre of food! Thai, maybe?


also, i'll definitely be working out everyday. Indonesia's in 4 weeks. i want to drop about 10 pounds, but i think i'll have to settle for about 5.

reading! (i've got about 5 unread books on my desk right now.)


categorizing my music! yikes! *so many gigs* AND!! find MORE music!

maybe i'll explore some part of Korea?!

snowboard?!

spend time with friends!

AHHHHH! LIFE IS GRAND!!!!!!!!!

4 lettered words

this REALLY is a blog about nothing.
i'm having yet another existential crisis.
yuck.

i have to be meta-cognitive and acknowledge the ridiculous nature of these quarterly moments of angst--but damnit! i hate feeling this way. my insides feel uncomfortable as i question my Purpose. i wonder if my presence on this planet has meant anything thus far. have i made any impact at all? does my Person have any value?
i blush as i reread those previous sentences. i know how self-involved i'm being--but c'mon: we ALL want to feel validated as a Being. we all grasp for meaning and hope that there is at least a minutiae of significance in our actions and our words, no?

i have to ponder if there is much that i've done since the last time this niggled my consciousness. i know how selfish i am. i chase after insatiable lusts and comforts and get pissed or retreat when something gets in my way. i gnaw on rocks, trying to fill my hunger, only to be chagrined by badly chipped teeth and the not-so-profound recognition that: rocks have no nutritional value.
it's a lesson i get to re-learn every quarter. *sigh*
...
.......
although, i have to say that i'm getting a little better when having these tantrums. i don't feel quite as dark about it all. though i'm definitely brooding about those big Questions, i know it's not the end of my world. irrespective of how troubling i find these meanderings, i always will have some Hope.

maybe that's part of what i'm supposed to be learning this time around. that i don't have to just give into all of those black feelings. that i don't need to fall into the rabbit hole of self-loathing. that resting in certain Joys is always an option.
also, i'm finding that there is a distinct correlation between my exhaustion and my angst. i always feel sucked dry and sick-of-myself-sick-of-life when i'm not really reflecting on those Joys. i don't *have to* wallow. i can remember how much people do care about me. that people like to hug me and laugh with me. that i've at least had a brief moment of connection with every important person in my life in the past 24 hours.
but more importantly, irrespective of my worst, filthy, most violent actions:
i am Loved.
i am worth Dying for.

i know. it's too simple. and inexplicable. but there it is.

my life might not always make sense to me, but knowing those things help me to keep on.
Love. and Death. big words. i know.
i've stumbled across my Purpose a number of times: if there is any Thing i am supposed to do in this life, it is to Love, even when everyone around me seems like a fucking bastard. even when i'm being a fucking bastard.
if there's anything that'll grow and grow and grow from the tiniest of seeds, it is this. Love. *really* planting Love (and even tougher--receiving this seed) softly and surely kills off that selfish beast inside of me. it changes me. it helps me to understand something about the Universe.

shit. so that's my boring conclusion: Life is my confusing hell, and Love is my only true cure.

[existential crisis averted? well, at least i've bought myself some time.]

money and a shotgun

as i mentioned, i just bought airfare to Indonesia for January. i felt a little sad right after i purchased. i know that's partly menstrual, partly financial, and partly existential.

Financial: now that i've got a uni gig, i've got to strike out on my own and actually go through the Korean machinations to rent my own apartment. the independence of that is nice because it is more Real Life, but this means i will have about ONE dime left over in March, after i pay for key money and 1st month's rent. *sigh*
considering that made me wonder a little bit about MY life. out here in Korea.

a huge part of coming out to the Motherland was to pay off my student loans. but here i am, at the end of year 2, and i'm still 46K in debt. i've probably sent home about 10K this past year, but somehow none of that got applied to my loans.
i needed to help my parents do *this*, help my unemployed brother pay for *that*, deal with a *random bill*, pay for that unexpected *wedding gift*, take multi-destination flights to the States... yikes! it never ended.

i'm not complaining--i don't have any Real fiduciary problems--i know i'm wealthy as hell compared to the rest of the people in the world. i just HATE money. whenever i take pause and think about it, the relentlessness of the Rat Race depresses the hell out of me. over 7 years of paying down 50K of student loans and i've hardly made a dent.

i just want to be DONE so that i have the option of randomly taking a trip to... let's say... Kenya.
i can see myself randomly falling in love with the people, the community, the country--and then decide to eschew everything else: quit my job, leave behind my possessions--(bequeathed to 'my Family'), and live and serve the Kenyan people in a little mud hut by the river. i could work with my hands and carry water and contract tropical diseases and eat tropical fruit and be sunburnt all the time. eventually, i could curse my festering Kenyan sores and mosquito bites while musing about how little i understood about the romances of living in Africa. meanwhile, i could try to see if God sounds the same out there as He does in the other places i've been.
[by the way, by my experience, though He IS exactly the same, He somehow sounds/feels different in different places around the world. i have a feeling that *that's* because i don't really know Him that well.]

i guess that all bleeds into the Existential side of my little moment of sadness.
in the past 9 months, i've been to: Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, Korea, the US, and Japan. while i was doing the research to travel Indonesia, i mostly felt a bubbling excitement about the amazing sights and culture and people i would soon encounter.
but, during those quiet, exhausted, alone-moments, i began feeling a bit dizzy at the thought of all of the countries i've visited and all of the countries i wanted to see. the strength just got sucked out of my muscles as i considered how there never feels like there is enough time. how there are just *too many people*, too many stories, too many needs... there is just TOO MUCH of everything but also TOO LITTLE of everything.

and then, i began to consider: what's the point? after all of that complaining about the Rat Race, haven't i simply created my own form and imposed it onto myself?

on another, related thread: i think i should spend some time considering *why* exactly i don't really like traveling with others. everyone always talks about how traveling with friends is so much fun and et cetera--but i don't know. everytime i've traveled with people for more than a few days: i spend too much money, i get up too late, and i don't end up doing the things that i reallyREALLY want to do. at the end of the day, i feel exhausted because i feel like i've been entertaining the whole time.
i guess i'm a bit of a people pleaser/accomodater--which makes *me* a pretty good travel partner--but i don't know how much pleasure i derive from that experience. (i'm such an arrogant brute, huh?)
sometimes i just want to be completely alone and read a book or write in my journal or get lost in lonely thoughts while people-watching. when traveling, i just hate feeling pressure to do anything but exactly what i want to do. maybe i need to just be honest w/ my fellow travelers when i need alone time, huh?
(but i would argue that's it's hard to find someone secure enough about their personhood to not take the "i need some alone time" shrug personally.)

but again, i find it a little troubling that for most of my hobbies (and especially for my favorite hobby) that i have such a fucking selfish attitude about my pleasures. MINE!

i feel almost certain that inevitably i *do* belong in a pair, but as i thought about how i like to fly solo for my greatest indulgence in life, i felt a little frightened/saddened by myself.
will i one day take over my parents' acres of land in the backcountry of Arizona, Alone? will i wear my dad's old plaid shirts and raise goats and chop wood for the winter heat? will i have a dozen dogs that i all name "George" and deliriously shoot rounds into that painted sky, just so i can feel something?
damnit. that kinda sounds like fun.

talking to a giant Peach

why can't people believe that i like being single?

there's this woman in my office: mid-50s, cakey make-up, brassy Peach lipstick, and a blaring voice that now grates my eardrums whenever she nears. i am not exaggerating when i say that *every*time that Peach and i get into a conversation, she tells me how badly i need a man. i don't know why i bother to engage her, but i feel this strong compulsion to set her straight.
i know it's partly cultural, but there's some universality in the underlying presumption that every person should be half of a pair, right?

anyway, Peach ceaselessly harrangues me about going out on dates and how i won't be truly happy until i find LOVE, et cetera. last week, she drilled into me during a school 회식. there were seven 40+ year old women plus me, sitting around a beautiful table laden with Korean food. they were all married with children; i was definitely the odd-one-out. all of the ladies made complaints about their husbands at some point during the meal. of course, the topic eventually turned to me and my pathetic singlehood.

Peach wrinkled her nose at me, "i'm sad you're leaving us, but i'm so glad you're going to the university setting."
"thank you," i nodded, "i'm excited about the challenge."
she leaned over to me coquettishly, "i'm glad, because at a university you'll have a better chance of finding a man." she clasped her hands to her chest and dramatically gazed into the distance--(i'm not joking about this. she is *that* theatrical.)
i restrained myself from rolling my eyes, "i'm not in a rush. i'm happy on my own." some of the ladies around the table shook their heads.
"Mary," Peach jabbed a dumpling towards me with her chopsticks, "you really *should* be in a rush."
the assistant vice principal chimed in, "don't you want children?"
i slowly shook my head, "i don't know that i definitely want children." there was a murmur around the table. i shrugged, "i'm NOT going to settle for someone right now, simply because i want to have children... anyway, i've always planned to adopt a child."
Peach began waving her arms, "no! you need to have your own children!"
another lady spoke up, "you're only saying that NOW, because you're having such fun as a single woman."

that is exactly right. tell me again *why* i want to have a husband to complain about?
"being single is fun," i smiled. "i don't want to rush into anything." i was getting tired of repeating myself.
Peach let out a deep, forlorn sigh, "Mary, you're not in a rush because you just don't know what it means to love someone."

whoa. what? i had been ready to just sit back and let them continue to 잔소리 me without talking back, but that statement pissed me off. i am a nearly 32 year old woman. how can you possibly know what i have been through in life?
in a clipped tone i replied, "actually, i have been in love. i've been in love, and i've been hurt, so i don't want to get into a relationship unless it's really worth it."
Peach protested, "but you have to try--"
i cut her off, "look, i've said this all before. i'm not against dating, i'm just not into the idea of wasting my time. if the right match came along, of course i would be willing to date him."
"butbutbut--it seems like you don't like to go on dates," she sputtered.
"i don't like to go on dates," i said curtly. "i like to spend time with my friends. i like to get to know people over coffee. i go out with guys all the time, Peach--i just haven't found anyone i want to make my boyfriend. i'm selfish. when you date someone, you have to take care of them. i really don't want to take care of someone that isn't right for me."
the assistant vice principal put her hand on my arm and giggled to break the tension, "you two are coming from two completely different perspectives."
i laughed with her, "i feel pretty strongly against dating just to pass the time." i switched the subject to my Japan travels and the terrible railway system out there.

damnit. i am a HAPPY single woman!
well, i'm as happy as i can be. granted, i miss sex. sometimes. but celibacy is much easier to bear than the emotional roller-coaster that comes along with having a meaningless fuck. so, i will be content as a nun.

in other news, i did just buy tickets to Indonesia in January. i'm not sure the same rules apply out there. i'll have to see how healthy i feel.

journal of the recalcitrant female

urgh.

so, i began getting ready for bed, here, now at midnight, and decided that i need to open a bottle of wine and winge.

i looked at myself in the mirror and saw: a 30+ female who's kinda cute, fairly fit, and a divorced, soppy mess.

as it is winter, it's pretty cold in my apartment right now. i turned up the heat, but i don't understand how the thermostat works in here. the ondol sometimes turns the place warmer, and my feet'll randomly get nice and toasty, but it's capricious. the temperature seems to rise when i'm sweating, but the floors are always cold to the touch when i groggily stumble out of my bed. apparently, i can turn up the heat for the water as well, but my showers are still only lukewarm.

i'm cold tonight--this Friday night--and i'm actually *in* b/c the prospect of going out makes me curl further into my blankets with a book and Left-Eyed Leonard. or the remote.

when did this happen?

when did i prefer to wrap myself up in this warm little Spring/Fall jacket and cuddle with my sock monkey, rather than dance and flirt on the crowded dance floor?

and this stupid jacket.

i've worn this jacket every Spring and Winter for the past 5 years--forgetting that it actually has some kind of significance besides the pullover that keeps the chill out. but tonight, i'm startled to recall: Chris got me this jacket.

many seasons ago, in a suburb of Chicago, in a different lifetime, he had asked me what i wanted for my birthday/Christmas. i told him: "socks, undies, and something warm. maybe something Puma."

a bright fuchsia puma leaps from my collarbone, mockingly stretching it's lean body to the sky. reminding me that everything is connected, and my history is not something that can ever be escaped.

looking for a moment at that bright, lean figure in the mirror, i had sudden nostalgia of the time when cuddling was free, comfortable, and kisses didn't make me nervous. when everything was a soft, worn pair of pilled socks. Chris and i had jokes about farming mini-donkeys or hosting our own cooking show or i might stroke the first digit of his left thumb because it felt safe. and familiar.

i stared forever into his big green eyes and saw our bedroom lamp reflected back to me.

i saw the walls our first apartment with the crotchety deaf lady who blasted her TV every night.

the fishtank where he first got excited about fancy goldfish.

the townhouse where we bought IKEA furniture and then died in.

is this my life? did i actually live there sometime before today?

or is it a dream?

was there a point that my life was actually reflected on the surface of his big green eyes?

a bun in my oven?

i will be 32 years old in less than 3 weeks. i've got all kinds of pressures to 'settle down' and find a man. my biological clock is tick-tocking with an inexorable forward movement.
my parents really want me to bear children and make them grandparents someday. there really isn't much time left to make that happen, and with every passing year, the window for me to make a baby is closing ever more rapidly. it hurts a little to think about that because i've still got that childlike desire to turn cartwheels in order please my parents; but at the end of the day, my life is my own, and i need to make choices that fit who *i* am as a person.

are children in the cards for me?

last year, i came into the revelation that "no", i do not feel the biological necessity to procreate. when i finally came to that conclusion, i felt an enormous sense of relief. a huge burden was lifted off of my psyche because: no longer was my quest to find the right life partner dictated by the clock. i know it sounds paradoxical to say that in juxtaposition to the above statement, but i think it's a complicated issue.

last year, when i realized that i don't 'have to have' a baby, there was freedom in letting go that status quo expectation. in fact, when i came into that thread of thoughts, i rubber-band flew into the other extreme where i began thinking that: not only did i not NEED to have a baby, i did not ever WANT to have one. the idea of becoming a mother was frightening--almost offensive to my sensibilities. i wondered how i had even considered it as an optional life path.

i know that there is some curiosity about me at my school because i do not fit into the Korean stereotype of 'lady-likeness'. i am a happily single 30+ woman, independent, active, love to travel on my own, and will politely state that "i don't need a man" to anyone who insists that i do.

[it's not that i don't desire to find a partner, but i find that it is much easier to avoid annoying busybodies when i flat-out close that door.]

this past Springtime, i had a very enlightening conversation that turned the tide on my anti-baby attitude. it was with the only happily married Korean woman i know. it was unusual for me to be open about myself to a co-worker, but she was honest enough to straight up ask me some of those deeper questions, along with sharing about herself. as we got further into our discourse about our lives, i revealed that i'd been married and divorced. to my surprise, she wasn't surprised or disgusted. she didn't even really pause for too long on that point. she was more curious about why i didn't want to have children.

roughly translated:

me: i just don't feel the call to motherhood.

her: really? but... why not? what holds you back?

me: well, i think that it's not something that you should just step into because it seems like it's the natural progression of things.

her: indeed, having children is a major decision... but i cannot imagine not having mine.

me: i don't know. it's relieving that i don't have to let that factor into finding someone to live my life with. there's no time-line anymore.

her: but, it sounds like you actually wouldn't WANT to have children.

me: i don't think i do.

she paused, then: Mary, i think you should be careful not to close yourself off to being a mother.

me: i know. if i find the right person, of course i'd be ok with having a child with him.

i said these words automatically. they were well-rehearsed from saying them so many times. she looked wistfully off into the distance. i think she knew i was giving her a line--albeit, it was an ideal i believed in--but not one that i had really examined for a long time.

her: i really hope you find that right person. she fixed her gaze upon me. because truly--when you find that perfect match for you... that man will make you so happy that your love for each other will feel almost desperate. if you find that kind of match, you can't help but want to consummate that love by having a child together. a child that is mended together by both of your flesh.

it was like a bell rang in my head. her statement was nothing new, but the way she passionately, authentically expressed herself was beautiful. i could see that she really believed what she was saying, and with a rush, i suddenly realized that *me* having a baby was not so preposterous. in fact, i suddenly realized that i could actually desire mixing my DNA with another person's and procreating a being that was kinda like me.

it was a startling, fantastical moment.

many things have led me to this conclusion, but i can finally, happily say: come what may.

Motherhood is a privilege that i think i would like to experience sometime in the future. now, i don't want to be so arrogant to assume that even if i do find this mythical "right" man, that i will have the ability to have a child. so many couples just believe that they can make a baby whenever they feel like it; there's this general sense of entitlement to procreation that many couples have. so many are heartbroken when they can't.
if God blesses me with a little one of my own flesh and blood, that will mean that my life will have unfolded very differently than i can currently imagine. but hopefully, if a bun does end up in my oven, that'll mean that i have also found the person who can handle and adore my crazy.

napping during the War

i’m waiting for my male co-teacher to go to a class so that i can sneak off to my classroom for a nap. ridiculous, i know–but again: i’m at school for yet another day of desk warming while the students are preparing for their finals.

i’ve gotten a few inquiries about my reaction to the escalated tensions between the 2 Koreas and to be frank, i’m not worried about it at all. this is not for political reasons or me taking on a laisse faire attitude about what’s happening. i’m just simply not afraid of what is to come.

let’s take a look at the possible negative scenarios:
-worst case: a bomb gets tossed at us in Seoul and i am maimed/grievously injured. yes. that would really suck. i’d be pretty sad and mad if that happened. however, the possibility that i am personally injured in this way seems like a long shot.
either way, being a firm believer that “everything happens for a reason”, eventually i know i’d be able to accept losing an eye or an arm or having some other kind of disfiguration.

-another case: the DPRK invades the ROK. w/ Seoul about an hour and a half away from the DMZ–that is somewhat problematic, of course… but i dunno. my 엄마 told me stories of sitting on the back of my grandfather’s bike and riding away from the Japanese Army during the Korean War back in the 50s. i bring up that little tidbit because:
well, i have a brain–and if an invasion occurred, i would do what i had to do to survive. maybe i’d take the first flight out? or, if that wasn’t an option, i’ve got a few friends in my building w/ whom i would probably pool my resources and make/execute a plan for escape.

-along those lines: let’s say we didn’t escape.
becoming a POW is hardly likely, but if *that* actually happened–well damn. that too would really suck. i can’t even conceptualize what it would be like to be in a POW camp and get beaten up and starved and… whatever else that comes along with that. i’ve actually talked to people who have experienced some of those war atrocities and it’s not something that i would like to endure. but, bad things happen in life. i really don’t mean to sound cavalier in saying that, but you live and you deal. and you try not to lose who you are when experiencing terrible pain and tragedy.

-last scenario: death. let’s say that a bomb gets tossed over here or there’s a sudden attack with tanks and automatic weapons and i end up dead. honestly: oh well.
it’s not that i want to die, but i’m simply not afraid to. i feel very comfortable when i consider what will happen after i close my eyes for the last time. certainly, i hope that a whole lot of pain or screaming doesn’t precede that, but i’ve got complete hope in the outcome of my eternity.

my co-teacher has just left his desk. i will take this opportunity to sneak with a book and some hot tea to the couch in my classroom. maybe i’ll reflect on this very comfortable moment from the middle of a POW camp in a few months/years. who knows? i have no control over that. but, i sure can enjoy and appreciate what is left of today.

you suck. and so do i.

people suck.
i'm including myself in that mix.
i suck.
i'm super emotional, i sometimes talk shit, i'm selfish, and i can be so blinded by my 'point' when i feel "right", that i readily do the perfect swan dive into my arguments. i articulate carefully and precisely expecting that (of course!) the offended will understand and be convinced by my air-tight arguments.

but everyone gets emotional in relationships. particularly if there is an investment there. particularly if there is a history of small/large hurts that were never addressed between the parties involved.

when finally it comes to head, you are so focused on your version of the history, and how you have been hurt and wronged, you are able to craft a beautiful, distinctive argument enumerating your position. much to your chagrin, it doesn't get heard. s/he isn't interested in listening to your reasoning because *s/he* wants to be heard and understood and heralded as right.
people suck.
i suck.

i hardly ever fight with my friends. i don't like to stir up "unimportant" matters and i'd like to think that i don't really need to have it *my* way. i try to be respectful and usually will just 'go with the flow'. i don't care what we 'do'. the more important thing is 'who' i do it with, right?

you could be at the most beautiful place on earth, or the most fascinating, or the most exotic, and still have an awful time if you're with the wrong person.
or, you could be walking down a residential street in a boring little town in Central Illinois BUT you'll be having a ball, b/c the person who's walking w/ you is making you laugh.

i've been sick to my stomach all week b/c of a fight that has occurred between me and 2 close friends of mine. as this debacle has unfolded, i've had things said to me that i felt were unjust and hurtful. to be sure, i hold culpability in contributing to the breakdown of the relationships, but as i examine the heated emails and the conversations that have occurred, i realize how many layers of misunderstanding there are on both sides. both sides have fucked up by not addressing certain issues, but now that things have risen to the surface, suddenly there has been a clearing of obscurities--and there is pain in that.

what i mean is:

in relationships, people usually take the Low Road--the path of least resistance. we don't always do or say the hard things b/c we're lazy. or we're afraid. or we make justifications about why "now is not a good time", or "next time i'll do things differently". taking the easier path is necessary a lot of the times for the sake of getting along. we overlook things or just 'let things go' b/c stirring things up will only hurt the relationship.

HOWEVER, when we take the Low Road, misunderstandings begin to happen. these lead to a slow, but sure shifting of perception from Basic reality. small and large offenses begin occurring as a result of those misperceptions and a maladaptive dynamic forms. eventually, when there is enough friction, suddenly, seemingly from nowhere,

there is a spark.

and then a loud explosion

and then shock.

you find yourself sitting in a puddle of piss and shit--theirs and yours

a dizzying, disgusting mess.

you try to collect yourself--your heart thumping with adrenaline while you sift through the chunky, oozing excrement looking for answers. trying to figure out who's responsible for what, because surely, this can't be *my* fault, right?!

and as you examine yourself and examine the things that were finally FINALLY said, you see where you fucked up, and how they fucked up, and have no idea how to clean it all up.

unfortunately, it is no longer simply a matter of busting out a mop, some bleach, and some harsh cleansers. that lovingly weathered relationship is now soaked in the vile brine of your mutual misperceptions. it's going to take more than a little elbow grease to get to a fresh start.

because
you are pierced with the glaring reality that maybe you've been misunderstood for a substantial period of your history. that maybe they've been harboring resentment towards you... for months, or even years.

that is when your heart breaks.

you want to ask: is that who you thought i was the whole time? that terribly ugly, selfish person?

it is not that there is no recourse from this kind of fight. if the relationship is worth anything, you talk it out, or yell it out, or wring it out with whitened knuckles and raw cheeks.

the bottom line is: you've got to be brave and lay it all onto the table so you can clean it up and glue the pieces back together.

but right now, as i sit in this dirty stinking puddle, i feel lonely as hell.

the single pheromones

it's been a while since i've discussed my man/woman issues, so i'll go there...

i need to preface this by saying that i *know* i am not God's gift to men. i recognize that i'm kinda cute and can be charming when i feel like it--BUT, i am quite aware that i am no longer part of the super-sexy elite group in their early-to-mid 20s.
MEH. i wouldn't ever trade what i've learned in my 20s for more elastic skin.

anyway, i feel like i've got the "i'm single" pheromones coming out of my pores again, and it's driving me batty. allow me to elucidate: these special pheromones only manifest when you are thoroughly happy as a single person. this has happened once or twice before in the past two years of my singlehood--and each time, the pheromones attracted unwanted attention.

i'm tired of 'dating' and/or whatever it is that i've done w/ men. getting involved w/ someone--no matter how 'casual' it is--expends waaay too much energy. even though there are those fringe benefits when dating someone, i know myself. i can't be casual SO--i just don't want to date someone unless it's something substantive.

the other times that i was 'happy' as a single, i feel that my happiness was somewhat fleeting because it was not built on something really substantive. i remember feeling high on the idea of not having to be accountable to anyone for my comings and goings or feeling high on being completely free and uninhibited to do *whatever* i wanted. those are important things, certainly--but not bound to last for a long measure of time. eventually, loneliness/aloneness creeps back in while you're being so tra-la-la-la-free.
another thing that's different this time is that the random flirtations are a source of irritation for me. in the past, i didn't mind the coquette because i felt like it made things interesting. today, i want to avoid this guy and that other guy because i can tell that he wants to 'get to know' me. yikes. i don't know to 'get to know' him.

i know shouldn't begrudge the flirtations--afterall, i should feel some measure of flattery, yes? but, ugh. i feel grossed out by it all. SEX. urgh.
i feel him undressing me from across the room or while i'm climbing stairs or sitting at the next table. i can feel his eyes while i'm leaning against the subway pole or when my back is turned to him b/c i don't want to make eye-contact.

am i being paranoid or self-aggrandizing?
possibly.
but, there is NO QUESTION about the increase in my getting hit on in the past few weeks. i've been staying in and away from people because i don't want to party these days--so i'm not even entering into social situations where the sexy times are always happening. i've been all bundled up, messy hair under a floppy winter hat with no make-up: but that guy at the cafe and that other guy at my school and the gentleman on the subway all made passes at me.

there is no explanation for any of this, except: i am putting out quantities of those single pheromones that cannot be blocked by even the most shapeless, bulky winter coat. there are worse problems, i suppose.

the cleanse part II

well, i've thrown myself from the wagon at the advent of my Chicago girlfriend coming into Seoul. she now sleeps next to me on this (her last) night in town. it might have been stupid for me to forfeit my choice of "clean living" during her sojourn here, but at the same time, i'm a realist and i'm working towards a sustainable lifestyle--and not just one of austere "purity".

i feel messed up though. this week, i eschewed all of the healthy behavior i had committed myself to and i am left feeling a little empty, now that all of my lusts have been indulged in. my girlfriend knew that i had made these commitments--moreover, she attempted to curtail my behavior--but, that is nonsense.
i mean: what is an indulgence if you only go 1/2-way? if i'm going to indulge, i'm going to fully enjoy the experience. [maybe this is why i need to fully stop indulging.]
additionally, i do not do or not do anything for someone else. i make decisions for me. otherwise, the choices don't stick because they aren't significant to ME. duh.

anyway, i kinda knew it would come down to this again. i'm kinda glad i had a chance to wildly run around in this dirty playground again because it reminded me how fruitless it is to play on all of this rusting equipment.
frankly: the idea of doing another cleanse this week gives me a headache, but i know i should do it. i need to refocus and recenter myself. i need to get back to the heart of what i want my life to be about. i can't be there if i'm feeling unhealthy and/or out of control.

there is something beautiful that happens when you deny yourself something you want. often, what you are denying yourself has some delicious aspect of unhealthy (which makes the self-denial worth anything to begin with).
also, through the slight panicky moments of desire, there is a strange sense peace that you experience as you realize that you ARE the master of your lusts.
you CAN be strong.
you can be BRAVE.
YOU can do things that are hard.
your state of being can be BETTER than before.

it might be stupid to be so dramatic about denying myself certain foods and a few other indulgences this week--but this is part of a spiritual journey for me. outside of the foods, this week, i'm going to workout everyday, start a painting i have in mind, daily practice my uke, and read a few chapters of a few books.

all of that might sound a little ambitious, i know--but in my state of weary, it actually makes me hope and feel excited for some of that Rest i've been craving.

inked for the 7th time

i now have a fairly substantial back piece covering about a 1/3 of my back.

the 2.5 hour experience was intense, and i still have to go back to get the color filled in. EJ (my tattoo artist) and i conferenced extensively about her proposed designs before she finally set up the needles and the ink.
the tension built in my muscles as i waited for the process to begin. i knew it would not be pleasant. when i lay facedown onto the tattoo bed, i took a few deep breaths to calm/prepare myself for the pain.
EJ smirked, "you ready?"
i groaned and gave her a sad face, "i'm never ready."
she buzzed the ink gun at me a few times, "ok. well, i'm starting."
as the needle began puncturing the skin of my lower back, it was almost a relief. EJ is a perfectionist and a great artist. she pressed the needle in carefully so it wasn't *so* bad for about the first 1/2 hour. however, when she began working on the shading on my side, the pain suddenly spiked.
"oh Mary," EJ paused in her work when a little squeak escaped my throat, "this part is probably really sensitive, isn't it?"
i took a deep breath, "yes. 갑짜기 신각헤졋어." (literal translation: 'it suddenly got serious').
she laughed kindly, "well, i don't want to make things too hard for you. so, now that i've started on this part, i should do this all in one pass... do you think you can handle it?"
i nodded and laughed helplessly, "the way that i see it, i figure that i'll have this ink in my skin for life... feeling this sharp, intense pain seems right to me."
"i agree," she smiled, "ok... get ready..."

the next 45 minutes was excruciating as she pulled burning fishhooks through my skin. internally, i squirmed and screamed. i felt trapped. tortured. i wanted to push her the fuck off of me and run. but i held my breath and grit my teeth.

getting this tattoo was pretty spontaneous, but it wasn't at random. i've recently been feeling quite refreshed and happy in life. i've quit smoking, drinking, and staying out until the early morning hours (for now). i'm sure these factors play a major role in moving me into this good place. i don't feel any compusion to be at this or that party anymore. i just don't feel like i'm missing out. i'm investing in my closer friends, i'm getting involved in fruitful activities, i'm exercising regularly, and i'm eating healthy.
i feel fabulous.

i'm also done with random sexual encounters. not that i've had that many, but 2010 had a string of months where i succumbed to my lusty appetites whenever i was in the mood. all i needed was a decent-looking guy who was confident enough to flirt and proposition me to a casual introduction to his penis.
sure, there was a temporal pleasure i experienced (sometimes) while getting naked and sweaty with him or him or what's-his-name, but i either felt disgusted with myself or some shade of dark the following day. i got stuck in that pattern for several months, despite those dark feelings.

so, as i gritted my teeth against the searing, raking of needle against my skin, i blasted the tribal beats of one of my favorite bands into my ears and reflected on why i was putting myself through this pain...
it is for the pleasure of Life.
for the fact that--even though it took me a while to get here, i am here.
it is for the purpose of permanently marking myself and my commitment to this: the act of trying to be the best of exactly who i am with my bizarre brains. this is what God intended, sometime before the dinosaurs were duking it out.

He's always wanted ME to break free. to fully be who i am. He's always been drawing me out, sometimes whispering, sometimes yelling--agape love and unconditional acceptance.

i've always heard these messages, but never received them--throughout my sheltered youth, my sometimes troubled drugged/drunken adolescence and adulthood, my angsty married years, and the past two years in my post-divorce playground.
this history--my history, may describe me, but it doesn't define me. i sometimes get so wrapped up in my failures and Flaws that i forget that i am inherently valuable. to Someone.
SO, here's the ridiculously obvious conclusion: i don't need to be anything or anybody. i can simply be Myself. somehow, that is good enough. and *that* is lovely.

thus, the form of my 7th tattoo:
i chose the main subject to be flora, because it is living and organic. towards the base of the piece (which, ironically is the highest point of the tatt) is the symbol for love. along the branches are the symbols for joy and peace among cherry blossoms.
to be honest, the cherry blossoms weren't exactly *my* idea, but EJ really thought they would look good in the design, so i consented. afterall, i figured that getting a tattoo is a dynamic, artistic process for both artist and canvas.

why love, joy, and peace?
a few weeks ago, i asked a guy i just met: "what do you want to be when you grow up?" he expounded upon his future plans at some length. his ideas were somewhat specific and elaborated. what struck me was that he was able to name things; he seemed pretty clear about what direction he would *like* for his path to take.

though he never reflected the question back to me, i still thought about how i am very unsure about what the future will bring. moreover, i do not have any concrete idea about what i would like it to bring.

but, i still know what i want to be when i grow up.

i want to be someone who really loves people. i want my life and my actions to be reflective of Love. i also want to be a person who regularly experiences joy and peace. those kinds that are Real. those secret kinds that are not reliant upon purpose or possessions or circumstance.

these are the pretensions that got me through the waves of panic that hit me while EJ pressed that blazing, inky needle to my side.

Monday mania and the Korean man

another day, another round.

i was awoken to my phone ringing. i dazedly looked at the name and thought, "Melissa? who the hell is Melissa?"
"hello?"
"Mary?" said an anxious voice.
"yes?"
"Mary, where are you?"
i squinted at the clock and groggily tried to tap into the voice recognition portion of my brain, "i'm at home." and then it dawned on me. MELISSA. oh shit. it's MONDAY! i sat up and shook the cobwebs loose from my synapses.
"Mary, are you sick?"
"no, no! i'm not sick. i just didn't hear my alarm. i'll be at work as soon as possible."
she sounded nervous, "the vice principal was asking about you."
*that* was ominous.

it's mid-terms week, and actually, there is no real reason for me to be at work, sans the Korean work culture that lends to the notion that one's physical *presence* in the office is important. i smirked as i made my bed and sauntered into my bathroom. i hoped that i wasn't in too much trouble, but i dunno--i've been fighting the indifference that seems to come with this SMOE job.
the school itself has minimized the importance of the work that i do, and though i put in all of my efforts while in the classroom, outside of the classroom, i have just done my best to keep my head bowed and my eyes trained on my computer screen.
i don't listen to the announcements during the teachers' meetings anymore--not because i'm lazy or do not care--it's because i only understand about 80% of what is going on. that last 20% of comprehension is crucial to actually receiving a message, so i've taken to writing or reading or checking my email during that time.

well this morning, i got to the office about 45 minutes late, and i made a bee-line for the VP's desk. i was a little surprised at how it went down. Korean office politics severely highlights my problem with the Korean man.
my VP's voice was unnecessarily loud and boomed through the teachers room, "you didn't have class yesterday. you didn't have tests yesterday. why were you late today?" i cringed because i could sense that the entire staff was waiting for my response.
"yes. i'm really really sorry--"
"you're really very sorry?" he chuckled mockingly--imitating my bad Korean grammar.
i grit my teeth, but kept my voice in a submissive half-curtsy, "yes, i just didn't hear my alarm this morning."
"no? why not? why did you go to bed late?" is that your business?
"well, i was volunteering."
"what do you mean?" he leaned forward. a glimmer of curiosity interrupted his gleeful spanking.
"i do volunteer work on Sundays."
"tell me about this. what kind of volunteer work?" his voice shifted down to a normal volume.
"i go to Seoul Station with some friends--you know how there are a lot of homeless people there?"
he nodded slowly, "yes--there are many homeless people in that area."
i folded my hands in front of me,"my friends and i buy food and then distribute it until late at night."
the VP gave me a penetrating look, "and so that's what you did last night?"
i tried not to roll my eyes, "yes. i was very busy yesterday."
he leaned back in his chair. i could see that he was trying to decide whether/not he was done toying with me.
he was.
i returned to my desk.

however, all day, i had people coming up to me asking me if i was "ok". it was a little confusing. about half-way through the day, i discovered that at precisely 8:13am, the VP made a huge racket throughout the teacher's office about my absence. he ran up to Melissa and loudly questioned her about where i was, as if i were intentionally taking advantage of the system. he made sure that all of the employees could hear him.
the teachers who knew me felt compelled to ask what had happened because the VP had made such a scene about it. when i realized what a production was made out of my tardiness, i was a little embarrassed--but, actually more amused than anything.

i know i'm probably pointing this gun at my own foot, but this Korean 눈치 ("noon-chi") bullshit is just not working for me. and i think it's ridiculous for the Koreans to expect for me to *get it* when they themselves don't even get it.
the VP has been hinting that he wants me to be the editor-in-chief of the high school's English newspaper (ermm. who's going to read this?) but he hasn't clearly stated what he expects of me.
it's funny because when he alludes to tasks like translating pages of complex Korean into English, i giggle and cock my head to the side and politely explain the limitations of my linguistic abilities--MUCH to his exasperation. he's getting a little pissed that i'm not just DOING what he wants, no matter what the sacrifice (like his other employees). BUT i am not his bitch. he's not my boss--the Korean government is.
i know this is obnoxious to say, but despite my Korean face, i'm an American. i'm not going to guess what he wants. that shit's confusing.

so, here i am: wide-eyed innocence and fast, precise articulation in English. he gives up eventually, in frustration.
*giggles*

bang BANG! ouch! that's my foot!

happy

i'm in the middle of writing a quick itinerary of my comings and going in Japan, but i had to pause instead and write:
i'm extremely happy right now.
life is so good. phew! i can't remember feeling *this* happy and optimistic about my journey.

i know i feel this good b/c this isn't just a 'high' that'll fade. and hey--i'm realistic. life'll definitely bring me things that'll make me cringe and cry. inevitably, life is full of intense pain and well--shit happens to everyone. but i'm actively talking to God again--and He's doing something mysterious in my insides.

i am experiencing an impossible feeling. there is no other way to describe it.

let me put this into some context.
the phrase: "relationship with God" is such an overused phrase that it has lost meaning. and honestly, it sometimes sounds like something a crazy, over-spiritualized, self-righteous Bible bangin' jerk would be haranguing about. but hell, i must speak of this--and i suppose you could call me one of those jerks.

i'm not going to be as arrogant to say that i've figured out what a "relationship with God" is, but i feel like i've suddenly found myself in a place where i'm experiencing it.
for many years i was lost in the land of the "do's" and "don'ts".
this wasn't it.

then, for a while, i was lost in the opposing jungle of eschewing all of the rules. i figured, if God loves me with an agape love, my actions ("good" or "bad") were unimportant.
this also, wasn't it.

finally, i have found myself in a place where i'm not thinking about any of that stuff, and i'm simply focused upon just getting to know Him. i've been trying to live inside this framework for the past few months--just doing my best to talk to God. i've been trying to *really* love people and learn what it means to be content.
somehow, this has spontaneously lead me into falling in step w/ the "do's" and "don'ts"--(BIZARRE!) i have not been trying to be *good*, but suddenly i find myself naturally being *good*.
I KNOW: the idea of "GOODness" is a very confusing and controversial concept--but it IS there. it floats around dynamically, nebulously--but it is a real thing. i would contend that most people--irrespective of belief system--can see and feel what "good" is, even if they cannot define it. even if they don't know where it comes from.

i have been startled by these random avalanches of joy. i know it sounds like hyperbole--but WOW--i have rediscovered the secret again, and it feels amazing.

i know that there is a plan for my life, and it's a good one. and it will make me happy. God likes me to be happy.
i know that there is a purpose for my existence on this planet, even though i'm not sure what it is. i'll figure it out at the right time.
and i know that whichever direction i go in these worn sneakers, God is holding my hand, walking with me. it is this--exactly this--that floods my insides with a crazy peace.

traveling and thoughts post-Japan

ok--my travel partner, Will was good to me--in that we *did* have hours of good conversation and he (sometimes unnecessarily) kept a close eye out on me. he also was pretty well-informed about Japan, and seemed serious about studying the language and culture--a respectable venture. however, let me take a moment to vent my spleen about him.

i will NEVER AGAIN travel w/ someone i am not SURE is a good travel-match w/ me.
it is a buzz kill. and i don't want to resent anyone after being on the Road w/ them. here were some of the crazy annoyances:
1) Will clutched onto his GPS like it was a life preserver and he didn't know how to swim--(he actually doesn't know how to swim. hehe~). he was so dependent upon it that he didn't realize that it actually hindered us from getting from A to B.
i like having a map to find things, but wandering randomly and stumbling across interesting people and sights is fun for me. the freedom of being off-schedule and off-obligation is lovely, and something that should be experienced fully. there is very little opportunity to do this during the daily grind. if i'm feeling sketched out or it's getting dark, i'll check the map and see if i can walk to where i need to go.

2) along w/ this, Will wanted to plan everything out to the enth degree and he hated asking people for help.
one of the major joys i have in life is PEOPLE. i find it especially sweet to meet people from different backgrounds and cultures. so, after the first few days of witnessing how Will avoided interpersonal interaction, i decided i would just initiate w/ the Japanese people whenever i felt like it/needed to--despite my non-existent linguistic skills. a funny side bar is that whenever we entered into a social situation, the Japanese people would always jabber at me endlessly, despite my helpless smiles and gesturing. they would refuse to believe i didn't speak the language. Will would then have to swoop in to translate as best as he could.

3) Will kept on leaving me in charge of all of the activity choosing (which is an important responsibility) citing, "it's YOUR vacation".
ARGH! when you're traveling w/ another, both should contribute to the activity planning. that way you might end up doing something that might be a little off-color from your taste, but could be an awesome experience.
anyway, w/ Will being as indecisive as he was, i ended up choosing pretty rigorous physical activities (much to his chagrin). he continually pissed and winged about being sweaty. DAMNIT. i wanted to baby shake him and yell: "grow a pair and just gut it out!" or, "would you please get away from me and go do whatever the hell you want?"

so, those were the annoyances.

but inevitably, the trip was a good one for me--for both of us, in fact. i think i helped Will to see that there is a better way to move through the world than being so self-contained/controlled. he actually complained about how much he planned but saw how things often didn't clock-work out.
i smirked and shot @ him: "really? things usually seem to work out alright when i DON'T plan." (yes, i know. i was being a little salty w/ him by that point.)
Will: "huh... well, you gotta show me how you do that."
me: "the problem with planning is that you think too much about reaching some concrete objective, rather than just experiencing and enjoying the Road."
Will: "but if you don't plan, you don't know what to do or where you're going."
me: "part of the nice thing about 'vacation' and travelling is that you don't necessarily have to know all of that stuff. AND, there are always *people*. i would say that 80% of the people out there at any given time will welcome a moment of connection w/ another human being, you know? and, if there's no one around, you just gotta problem solve."
Will: "i suppose..."

as i mentioned before, Will was a great conversationalist and we had many interesting discussions. though i am now more thoroughly disgusted w/ men, i also have a grudging acceptance of them. this is partly b/c i feel much better informed.
i love being friends w/ men, b/c when you're actually friends, men will just 'say it how it is'. no sugar. they are basic creatures. i like that.

i love to laugh. and God loves it when i do.

i am easily alarmed and will laugh easily as well, but there aren't many things that'll really really tickle my funny bone.

SO, when my funny bone has been titulated in this way, i will randomly laugh about the humorous incident for days after. this makes people nervous b/c i am usually unwilling to disclose the foolishness that is making me giggle.

i went to the 3pm church service today, and it was actually a little better than i expected. my church attendance has been spotty in Korea--(for plenty of personal and institutional reasons) thus, i don't really know any of the church members but the sweetie senior Pastor Bill.

anyway, i've been more intentional about trying to live a little more quietly and engage in healthier activities that make me happier and calmer and et cetera.
i've realized:
i DON'T have to hit every party i'm invited to.
i DON'T have to go out every time someone is trying to get my attention.
missing out on the "action" might feel a little crazy--this morning, i got 2 urgent phone calls informing me of the theft and the fight that happened last night. nutty. however, i observed the the insanity of the previous day's party w/ virtually no personal fall-out. (i hope that doesn't sound selfish. i don't mean it that way.)

i've been spending my Sundays at the jimjilbahng and then heading to church. afterwards, i've been either meeting a few people, hitting a cafe/bookstore, or just chilling out. it's been a nice rhythm i've gotten into.

given these factors, today: i had a nice time of introspection during the service, and felt like i had a chance to actually chat w/ God. towards the end of the service, there was communion and a closing song that i knew the words to. i closed my eyes as i sang and felt peace. during one of the choruses, someone sat right night to me. i didn't move or acknowledge him/her, though i certainly wondered why this person chose to sit so closely to me when there were so many other seats available.
following the song, there was a prayer--so i kept my eyes closed. at the final "amen", i felt the person's hand slowly brush the top of mine and i blanched. i swiftly turned to the offender in order to punch some lights out. i was greeted to the mirthful expression of my friend, Michelle, and i nearly burst into uncontrollable giggles.

from the podium, P Bill's mouth was twitching w/ a chuckle as i threw my arms around her. i loudly whispered "CREEPY!!" into her ear. Michelle kept on trying to calm me down and act like nothing had just happened, but my giggles could not be mustered.

i don't know why, but this incident has made me laugh forever.
it is grand to have some levity in the middle of a church service. God can be pretty serious business at times, but i'm pretty sure He thought the whole incident was pretty hilarious as well.

my naughty, indulgent Wednesday

wow, i wonder if i'm going to make it a habit to write this often. it feels good. i know how stumbly-bumbly-unedited it all sounds, but i don't care. i've just gotta get back into the swing of things.

anyway, i had to make a comment about today. it was FANTASTIC.

yesterday evening, i went to the dentist and had several cavities filled--and i had an enormous one filled with a temporary filling. indeed, it was *temporary* because it promptly fell out when i got home. bah, humbug. it was painful--and i couldn't deal w/ the exhausting idea of commuting back-and-forth for 3 hours in between Wednesday classes.
i began reasoning: it would be an exorbitant waste of time to just get a temporary filling replaced... not w/ all the additional dental work i need to get done... and i have so many errands to run in the City...
it didn't take long to convince myself to call in sick this morning.

maybe it was the wrong move--i know Koreans never take time off for any reason and i would not be viewed favorably for making this decision. but: i had a painful gaping hole in the middle of my mouth! and 3 more cavities to get taken care of! and i technically have 10 allotted sick days/year.
SO, maybe i'm not *supposed* to take them, but hell!--it's in my contract, and sometimes eschewing responsibilities for the sake of preserving health (mental and otherwise) is the right choice.

anyway, i went off to the dentist and got the rest of my dental work done. my dentist is a really quirky Korean woman who looks Japanese and talked my ear off while i mentally prepared myself for the unhappy prospect of getting the hell drilled out of my teeth. she told me about her trip to Chicago a few years back in a strange accent that she claimed was Bostonian.
while she worked, i blasted new music into my ears to drown out the high-pitched whizzing of the saws and drills. the music comforted me.
after the horrors of the dental process, i felt accomplished that i was cavity free and even got a doctor's note to explain my dilemma to my school.

as i spent an hour on the train all the way to the 찜질방, i spent some time talking to God. we had an interesting conversation.
what is a relationship w/ God exactly?--i keep on confusing what that means. undoubtedly, i engage in obligatory relational responses to my friends and loved ones, but usually, my actions are based upon my feelings for them. it's a natural, organic process.
i don't want to engage w/ God in an obligatory way--that leads to me 'trying to be good' and then feeling guilty when i am not.
people might argue that we have an inherent goodness in us. i would agree w/ that, but i do not believe that those reserves are bottomless/never-ending. i can more palpably feel my selfish and impatient nature.
[Scott Boren: 'as we engage naturally, honestly, authentically w/ God, we enter into the joyful, divine dance of life on this earth'.]
doesn't that sound lovely? today felt like a dance.

at the 찜질방, i had a rigorous, body-blowing work out that made my muscles pleasantly achy. i then treated myself to the spa (the salt fomentation room!) and 3 different baths. i pampered my skin and took my time getting dressed.
there is something *absolutely wonderful* about taking my time to do such methodical, practical things.

when i left the 찜질방, the sky looked angry and the air threatened rain. i needed to go buy a gift for my friend in Japan, but getting to Insadong to buy his gift would be at least a 1/2 hour walk. i figured that i would walk until the rain stopped me--however, for the first time in weeks, the threat of rain was an empty threat, and i was simply treated to cool breezes and a smattering of sprinkles.

i was immediately able to find the gift that i was looking for.

on an uncharacteristic impulse, i took out about $200 from my account and made a bee-line for the building that sold 1000s of instruments. i've been dying to get musical, but the beaten up guitar i have just wasn't cutting it.
i bargained and got a Kamaloa ukulele with a cute little case that i could sling over my shoulder.

when i got home, i made myself an unexpectedly delicious and healthy dinner, and have been practicing my new uke for the past few hours. it is surprisingly easy! and i'm already feeling the burn in my fingertips! i believe i'll have calluses w/in a week.
and! i'm already 1/2way through mastering one of my favorite songs (Elephant Gun) by Beirut.

being naughty was... well... naughty. but today's naughtiness felt exactly right.
i must do this more often.

thoughts pre-Japan

how odd is the way life unfolds?
when i was 28 years old, i was 3 years married and moving into my first home in the Monopoly suburb of Schaumburg, IL. if you had told me that w/in 3 years i would be considering a week-long trip to Japan as a casual occurrence, i would never have believed you.

i spent much of my down-time today doing research on Japan and getting thoroughly excited about the prospect of seeing another landscape, a new skyline, and a different sub-set of people of a foreign culture.

in photos, the Japanese vistas look sometimes similar to Korea's. they also look amazing and bright at different angles.
i've got the stereotype of exacting, prepackaged, shrink-wrapped, super clean, robotic trees and Lego cities/people floating about in my head. these prospects are actually very unpalatable to me--but i'm assuming these pictographs are probably inaccurate. i can only use my imagination to shape my notions of what it will be like when i get there.

to be honest, Japan was not on my list of places i wanted to visit, but w/ my friend out there and only a week to vacation, the two hour flight seemed that it was the right choice.
maybe i will surprise myself w/ how much i enjoy the Land of the Rising Sun? all i know is that i want a chance to get away. and really rest. and be emotionally pampered a little bit.

it might be terrible to say, but i know i'll be able to count on my friend to emotionally pamper me.
we've known each other for about 3 years. he was the 2nd man in the course of my marriage that i had to actively avoid in order to circumvent the possibility of infidelity unwrapping itself. when i realized that i was looking forward to flirting w/ him when i got to work, i had to protect my marriage by cutting off contact w/ him.
and he immediately knew that the tone had changed between us. he immediately respected those boundaries.

when i separated from my ex-husband, he definitely had the opportunity to 'comfort' me--an indulgence that i would've both welcomed and seriously turmoiled over. he was a decent enough guy to not engage me in that way, but that tension been established between us.
so, to avoid the possibility of Japanese shenanigans, i've already told him the white lie that i've recently started seeing someone.

anyway, outside of this one little factor, i'm curious to see what Japan might bring... the miniature deer, the mountains, the islands, the blue sky, the fresh air!

it could be disturbingly robotic or it could be beautiful and romantic and bohemian and/or the perfect storm of all of these elements. who knows?! but this is the wonderful thing about seeing every-places in the world. you always get to be surprised. even if by slight boredom.

September 2010

i feel like a fuck up. it hurts to feel this way.

well, i have these ideals about absolutes and standards and how things "should be", but inevitably, those are personal and subjective.
this still hurts though.

i've always known i can't be perfect. the Lord knows that i've tried and the Lord knows that i cannot succeed, despite my unrelenting attempts.
i sometimes wonder if i've been made as imperfect as i have been, in order to stumble enough in life to keep me attached to the ground.
yes.
there's the gritty ground.
and there's another bloody knee.
i'm clumsy. i have nothing to be arrogant about.

i get beautiful compliments about various things, but those come from people who don't see how badly i fail. i hide myself.
i actually get freaked when people say nice things to me b/c i wonder: "if you really knew me...what would you say...?"
the only person who can clearly see my failings are me. and Jesus. of course.

this comes down to something i was talking about w/ a birthday girl yesterday. as we exist in this world among other people, we just want to be *known*. fully.
without reservation or judgment.
and loved.
fully.
without reservation.
without judgment.
though we may be hell raising neurotics.
though we maybe dirty, intense, crazy, selfish, and only sometimes-sweet

sigh.
i want to be good... i try so hard to be good, but inevitably, it is impossible--not on my own. not by what i can figure out.

things are picking up again--(did they ever slow down?!)
here i am, ready to pack up to Japan in less than 2 weeks, to visit a boy that i believe i 'got away' from. i know it might be extremely arrogant to say that, but when a woman has intuition about something like this...

decisions decisions

i may be a pig. in a cage. on antibiotics, but at least i'm trying to get healthy.

this is weekend #1 of my non-smoking life. for the rest of my life.
this isn't to say that i will never smoke another cigarette in my life--in fact, i am sure that i will. but i've gotten so sick of seeing my skin deteriorate, my energy level dip below what a 31 year old woman's should, and smelling like an ashtray after coming inside from my smoke breaks during monsoon season.

so many people have guffawed at me for "attempting" to quit smoking.
1st of all, that's a bullshit way to encourage someone who is trying to get healthy.
2nd: FUCK YOU. i'm doing it.
this has a lot to do w/ my resolve. there are plenty of times that i say that i'm going to do something, but deep (and not-so-deep) below, i'm not really certain that i'm set on doing those things. sometimes i wax and wane philosophical about my standards and ideals, but know that i'm not really prepared to make the changes that would be good for me.
BUT, when i'm absolutely resolved about an issue, i deal w/ the hell and high water that come w/ making that decision and then grit my teeth for the gut-wrenching ride.

SIGH.
such comes along w/ the drastic, life-changing choice to be a non-smoker.
shit. it's a choice that many make every day--and stick w/ it, i'm sure--but, true resolve against a very tasty and lusty habit is not only a discipline, it needs to be a shift in thinking--sometimes a moment-to-moment choice. often, this is not palatable during transition, but inevitably, it brings along w/ it peace, joy, and a sense of refreshment and redemption.
i say these things, in part, to convince myself as i've been fighting against the waves of panic that i've been feeling when struck w/ the damning realization: "oh no. i CAN'T have a cigarette"--when encountering bullshit from a co-worker... or after a frustrating situation, the perfect meal, a long movie, or great work-out.

in the end, i'm feeling sick to death of feeling sick to death. i want to be healthy again. i want to engage in healthy activities, healthy relationships, and a healthy view of myself.
on these scores: i've been running, hiking, rafting, and rock-climbing this summer.
i've also been cutting down on all of the random drunken soirees (i just had my 2nd fabulous Saturday in a row, where i've just spent the whole day engaging in personal one-on-one time w/ good friends).
and, i've decided to non-literally "fuck men" until i meet someone decent. i've resigned to just deal w/ the annoying fall-out of unsatiated animal urges. i know i'm kinda pretty, have a decent head on my shoulders, and don't need man's opinion to sway the thoughts that i have about who i am.
i am a crazy-intense-opinionated-intelligent-loving-sometimes forlorn and damaged little girl. but i'm finding my way. and beginning to like who i am again. i am worth something and have forever-value beyond the above-mentioned.
i know that these are revelations that i have about once or twice a year, but they feel new every time i have them. i'm hitting 'reset'.

well, it's 2:30am on a late-Saturday and i'm home alone. happy. at peace. and sleepy.
g'nite World. i've got a lovely Sunday planned ahead of me.

back in Seoul

i am back in Korea and the new semester has begun.
i have to say, i was frightened and wearied about the prospect of teaching again.

2 weekends ago, i was in Chicago.
Praise's wedding: exciting and exhausting at the same time. i was running around like a madwoman, arranging things, politely barking orders, moving food, et cetera--all in a very short dress. at the after party, i was chagrined to hear that a number of people had caught sight of my fuchsia undies.
after the craziness of the wedding and reception, we rode in a limo to the Holiday Bar. the limo ride was super fun because i was sitting between one of my best friends and an ex. we toasted to the newlyweds, drinking beer from champagne glasses.
it was a helter-skelter evening of drinking, dancing, and flirting, and then somehow ended w/ me kissing my ex several times. this was bizarre--something that i had specifically been intending to avoid, but in the cacophony of the love-soaked evening, touching lips w/ him was nice.

b/c normalcy in our relationship was important to me, in emails the following week, i decided to ascertain that we were on the same page about the whole business. his somewhat dismissive but sweet response about 'kissing an old lover' made me grin. so, in the end, i was able to chalk it up to a pleasant experience: kissed by someone i care about, rather than one of the random flirtatious fools i was dancing w/. (i am actually moving out of this zone.)

anyway, i got back to my girlfriend's place at 2am, then stayed up till around 4am, packing and talking to the lovers of Belle Plaine. my best friend showed up after 3 hours of heavy, wine-soaked sleep, and then i boarded 2 planes and a bus that took me home to my apartment back in Seoul. it was a tortuous 22 hours of travel and when i arrived home at 8pm, i felt raw with exhaustion. and i was feeling anxious at the prospect of having to get up to start a new semester of classes, barely 10 hours later.

but as the semester began, the students were excited to see me and were engaged with me. i felt relieved and grateful for my job and that they were so interested in me and what i had to say. it's been a lovely 2 weeks back, tho i just quit smoking about 48 hours ago. urgh. but that's a whole other story...

thoughts on returning

just writing down these meandering thoughts to record/remember:
the last 3 hours was spent laying on my bed, the fan going about 2 feet from my head, my feet against the wall. i was finishing another great book while melting in the heat and humidity. i don't remember being so hot and sweaty last year--it doesn't make sense that i should be wilting this badly right now...

i'm about nine days out from boarding a plane to head Stateside for the first time in almost two years. i have had a growing anxiety about this visit and have been working out why this is. at first, i wondered if it was fear of the culture shock... i know that the States have changed since i was last there, and i'm afraid that if it has *indeed* changed in subtle, indelible ways, that might further grow my sense of displacement in the world?

and then i wondered if it might be the prospect of seeing old friends or possibly running into my ex-husband? a few days ago, i sent him an email--kind of on a whim--asking if he might want to meet for a cup of coffee or something. i knew what his response would be: none.
sigh. i expected that, but it doesn't make me feel any less forlorn about his anger and bitterness. however, i still don't clearly understand why he's *so* resentful towards me. my Korean girlfriend shook her head and uttered this Korean idiom (loosely translated): the one who farted is now throwing a tantrum.
sure, i left Chris w/ the heavy mortgage of our married home--a home that he has still been unable to sell over the past two years. but, it was part of our divorce settlement. he jumped at the opportunity to get my signature on those papers. moreover, HE cheated on me. he was the one that inevitably set alight the gasoline-soaked rags of our torn and fucked up marriage. i was willing work on it, even after i found out about his emotional affair, even after he had yelled curses and kicked walls, even after he nearly struck me with his fists in our bedroom.

this mystery still sometimes haunts me, but i don't know if i'll ever find any answers. i'll probably just have to ask Jesus after plodding out a few more decades.

today, i went rock-climbing with one of my longer held friends in Seoul--Madeline, whom i've known for just over a year. she's a quieter person than i usually befriend, and it is only in the past three months or so that i feel like i've been able to peel back some of those layers. her love for outdoor activities and her sensibility/maturity has kept me consistently meeting w/ her for the past twelve months, and now that we've been opening up and connecting more deeply, we're both sad to know that our friendship will soon become limited to emails and Facebook.

back to the topic at hand: i have been expressing my bewildering anxieties about heading Stateside to my closer friends--trying to get a bead on what the hell i'm actually worried about, and it was today, with Madeline--as we contemplated the cloudy skies behind the rock-climbing wall, that i think i might've come closer to understanding what i'm freaking out about:
i didn't like the person i was when i left the States. i've had to come face to face with the ugliness of the person i had become in my marriage to Chris. i was passionless, inactive, and lifeless. i stopped reading books, stopped writing, was watching too much tv, was never meeting friends (didn't feel like i could b/c Chris was so anti-social), and was feeling slightly suicidal a lot of the time. i had no energy, no joy, no interests.
i really can't blame Chris for this, but we really didn't bring out the good in each other, especially towards the end.

i am afraid to face this person. i have the irrational fear that returning to America--back into the venues of this broken, lifeless person--that i will realize that that *is* the person that i really am.
maybe i am NOT this person who loves to read books and travel and have sex and go running/hiking/rock-climbing and make people laugh. maybe this crazy, active, social monster is just a facade--a mask of overcompensation against the pain of a lost life.
i mean, why did i email him? why the hell would i do that if i have really moved on... if i'm really this reborn, new person?

well, i did use the word "irrational". there are two things that help me to realize that i am not just a facade of two years ago... four years ago... six... et cetera.
first, i find myself truly loving life to the point of bursting sometimes. primarily, happiness effervesces over when i'm having a good talk w/ God or accomplish something good or when i really connect with a good person.
and second, i know i'm not just wearing a mask because i'm still a fuck up. i know that sounds like a piss-poor reason, but it's probably the more real and confirmable one. i do feel like i am engaging more fully with the world in a way that is more authentically me--but this is not without flaw.
i am chagrined to admit having some bad/stupid habits that i revel in--throwbacks of my past. even though i know that some of these aspects of myself were probably injurious to my former marriage, they are still very much a part of my life. pessimism and depression: my favorite demons still like to hang out.
so, on this score, my argument is: though i still am who i am, i believe that the positive (and negative) changes are authentic, and that lifeless, passionless person isn't what i'm made of (for now).

figuring this out makes me slightly less nervous about going Stateside. i'm grateful for this chance to walk around a bit on American soil. i'll have a chance to see if my roar on this side of the planet has the same kind of strength on that side.

today; plus 2 days, minus 2 years

it's monsoon season again--where has the year gone? i remember listening to the torrential downpour last year when i lived in Yonsei. again again--warm rains come down fiercely and clear the air of pollution.

this week has been crazy and interesting and hectic. i just started summer classes--i've only got one, every morning at 8:20am until 9:10am, and then i'm off for the rest of the day. i've played around on the internet at school for a few hours, worked out, and then gone gallivanting around Seoul--meeting friends, shopping, going to the book store, listening to music and reading books while commuting from one end of the subway line to another. yesterday, i got a pastel yellow manicure after eating dukbokki, drinking coffee, then buying a birthday gift. it's felt good to be moving this much, and i'm surprised to see how tan i've gotten as i've been out and about.
this summer, i've been active--going hiking, running, or rafting every weekend. i did a rock-climbing wall about 2 weekends ago, and it was fabulous. i believe i've found another expensive hobby.

it amazes me that it's already the end of July 2010. how did this happen? we're already approaching the fall, and then there'll be another winter, and then another birthday, and then another new year. i'll be 32 in December.

today, i was wedding shopping w/ Praise and while we were smoking outside after enormous bowls of noodles, it started spattering on us. we started moving towards shelter, but:
"we can handle a little drizzle--"
but then sudden flood--
"yikes! into-the-awning!-into-the-awning!"
and then as quickly as it began, it stopped. we shook our heads. puzzling.

shopping w/ Praise today was refreshing and fun--though a little strange as i was observing and helping her along with the process of getting her wedding together. i remembered the endless last minute decisionsdecisions i had to make when i was getting my wedding together--almost 6 years ago. there's a mild forlornness that checks in occasionally as i think about Chris and i and how our lives were so entwined those years past.

today, it is just 2 days shy of our last wedding anniversary, 2 years ago. the one where Chris promised that he would be home, but he didn't come. the day before, he had promised to be a decent human being. he understood that it meant something to me for him to come home--not necessarily because i believed in the tenability of reconciliation--but moreso because i wanted an ounce of proof that he had not evolved into a complete monster. i remember laying on that brown vinyl couch in the darkening living room of our broken home, feeling the pain of yet another broken promise.
i remember how out-of-control everything felt on that day and the ones surrounding it. if my beloved Chris could lie to me so utterly, and could so intentionally cause me such pain--what could i believe in anymore? whom could i trust? what was i to do? the concrete future that i had so invested in was melting through my fingers like dry sand.
that pain--that sharp, stomach-wrenching pain, that you read about in books and can hear in the piercing wails of a devastated soul--that was all i could feel when i wasn't feeling numb with the un-reality of it all.

weeks ago, Praise had asked me if i was ok with helping her--and i assured her that i absolutely was. as i mentioned, though there were prickles of discomfort as i walked along with her today, i felt a joy in relieving some of the burden that came with her frenetic last-minute preparations for her wedding.
she is a dear friend--who, more than any of my other friends--has walked with me on the shaky ground of being a newly-divorced, then not-as-newly-divorced woman. she has been infinitely patient with me at times and has given me her unique perspective as a liberal Believing female who had been single for most of the decade that i was tied to Chris.

she's my sister. i love her.

i'm turning the rest of the thoughts/events that transpired today/this week into a chapter... i'm not going to get any sleep tonight, i imagine--but it feels super cathartic to write some of this down.

quasi

my lips are swollen
my body is curved
it's desire
it's knowing
he knows what i want

we're waiting
we're playing
this game
we're moving
your move
then waiting
i'm-bored-i'm-busy-ok-fine
come over.

this is crazy, this is bullshit
no you're crazy,
but it's hot
though it's nothing
i know it's nothing. we're just--
two bodies
rough breathing
that's it.
i know

it's pleasure
with screaming
he covers me
he feels me
he touches
i feel
slick hands
slick body

my sweat
we sweat
on baby blue blankets
mingling together
our sweat
we twist
he presses
we move

you're dirty
you like it
there's screaming
then quiet
it's 'closeness'
it's silent
this is nothing.
or is it?

Thailand/Laos/Cambodia VII: The Green Diamonds of the Mekong

As I sat at that remote restaurant on Don Khong, the loveliness of those females continued to emerge.

Initially, the little girls shyly looked at me, and then ducked their heads when I made eye contact. Not wanting to frighten them away, I just allowed them to venture close without responding to their presence. I was engrossed in my thoughts anyway. Over time, the little ones became more and more comfortable to approach me; they waved their hands, giggled, then ran away. Wooden planks rumbling.

Finally, a little girl came and Brazenly reached into my bag. With my head cocked to the side, I watched her as she fished out my neon green Kerropi case that contained my hair-ties and other miscellaneous. The other girls hurriedly gathered around Brazen as she clutched my case. Hastily, I had to snatch the case from Brazen before she emptied all of the contents onto the wooden floor, including my memory cards and phone battery.

In any case, I could see that they had no interest in the expensive technology it contained. Instead, they were fascinated by my colorful plastic barrettes. They laughed and clapped their hands and held them out, begging for the barrettes. Such simple pleasures. It reminded me about living in giddiness of seeing the smile of a loved one, the sweetness of a private joke, the burst of euphoria when feeling the Spring sunshine for the first time of the season. They coquettishly fanned out their hair for me to clip the barrettes into their dark locks.

Brazen continued to grab at my Kerropi case. She wanted another one. I shook my head—it wouldn’t be fair to the others. Also, I only had one green bow left—and it matched my scarf.

Just then, the Youngest of the troupe came back from her bath wrapped in a towel. Her hair dripped with water from the river. She had missed my little barrette party. Her lip quivered as she saw the rest of her sisters and cousins and neighborhood friends with the bits of colorful plastic in their hair. As she edged hopefully towards me, Brazen insistently pushed her back, with her hands proffered towards me. I frowned and shook my head, but: it’s not my job to scold this one.

I clipped the green barrette into my bangs and smiled at them. The girls lost interest in what I was doing because they finally realized I had nothing else to give them. They ran laughing down the dusty path among the chickens and the ducks. I turned towards my computer.

Youngest came out, dressed in a worn neon green tee and shorts and freshly combed hair. I looked around—none of the other girls were in sight. I waved Youngest over. She came over obediently, her bare feet padded along the smooth wooden slats. I removed the bright green barrette from my hair and compared it with her shirt. Youngest cocked her head up hopefully. When I clipped it into her hair, I was immediately wrapped in the soft brown arms of this little girl. She placed her hands together in front of her chest and bowed her thanks to me. Then, she ran away and I sat back down with my computer and coffee.

As I breathed in the freshness of the island air and contemplated the River, Youngest came back to me with a handful of dirty green beads. Smiling delightedly, I took the beads and slipped them onto my ankle.

Is there anything more sweet than the offering of a child? The plastic clattered as I shook my leg for her to display them. She patted my bare leg and then went to play with her sisters and cousins and neighbors.

I left the restaurant and fondly waved to the women and their daughters. They shouted “sabahdee” after me as I rode away on my rented bike.

There was a waterfall market, meandering cows, terraced fields, and the beautiful Laotian people. After a day of immensely enjoying this slow pace, I showered in the outdoor stall with geckos walking the walls. I thought about the palms, the dusty road, the brightly colored fabrics, and the blue-green river… the children’s laughter echoed. Those green beads clattered against my ankle again as the water ran over them. I had forgotten that they were around my ankle. As the streams of Mekong water ran down my legs over the beads, the mud rinsed away. The lovely child’s gift glistened like green diamonds against my skin.

Thailand/Laos/Cambodia VI: My Lost Camera

So I've written in circles about my important or unimportant experiences in SE Asia.

February 13, 2010

There’s so much to say about this first half of the trip that I've taken. It’s gone way too quickly, but I can’t imagine going thru the events chronologically right now.
I’m just going to give my impressions of now—what compelled me to bust out my computer at this moment is because I am sitting at one of the many open air restaurants that have proliferated upon the islands of Don Det and Don Khong. According to my new Spaniard friend Miguel, this particular restaurant is one of the most remote and least frequently traveled to on Don Khong.

At this moment, I am feeling indecisive about whether or not I’m going to spend another night on Don Det or if I begin moving again and explore one more Laos city (Champasek). I’ve been feeling like I’ve been on the movemovemovemove—though I’ve had some very relaxing moments.

But this moment, this today, I find myself at this most remote of restaurants on Don Khong. I ended up here because I could have *sworn* that I had left my camera on the red tablecloth just before sunset yesterday. It was getting too dark to bike back, so I had to wait out the night. I felt alarmed about the prospect of losing my camera, but at the same time, I have moved into this lazy pace of the here and now. This present.

This morning, I biked through the unbelievable tropical beauty along the Mekong River. Islands large and tiny were scattered to the end of the horizon. I feel sure that God took them in His hand and gently skipped them across the surface of the river—there they settled and rooted themselves where they landed.
Palms, bamboo sprigs, and florescent flowers overhung the bumpy and dusty road I traveled upon. It had crossed my mind that my camera might be lost somehow, maybe stolen, maybe sunk beneath the surface of the river. I could see it twisted up with the algae and crushing along the river stones.

When I arrived at this restaurant, there was a gaggle of women and girls sitting on the wooden slats of the restaurant floor. The ladies and girls burst into slow movement and Laotian speak when I rode up on my bike.
This place…
Parts of the floor are covered in those waterproof thatched mats that I remember from my childhood. The ladies slowly move about in their brightly colored sarongs and mismatched tees and blouses. Chickens peck at the floor and each other on and around and about. Candies, bags of what looks like oversized Fruit Loops, and sundry items of bamboo hang from nails affixed to a crooked 2 by 4 swinging and crackling in the wind.

When I tried to mime to my predicament of lost camera to the women, they looked confusedly at each other and began speaking miles and miles of their beautiful lilting speech. This was all incomprehensible to me, of course. They shook their heads and held up their empty hands. They were sure that I had not left it.

My heart sank, but in a very strange sort of way. I was disappointed and confused that my camera wasn’t there, but I didn’t feel the loss that I normally would have. It was a bizarre, unimportant sense of loss. I should have been somewhat broken-hearted about my mistake, but all I could feel was the heat of the sun on my black hair. I stuck out my lower lip as my thoughts moved torpidly.
What could have happened? Maybe I should review the contents of my backpack a little more closely.

They watched me as I stuck out my lower lip and walked to the basket of my bike. Thinking it a lost cause, I rummaged through my backpack carefully. And then, a shiny glint of silver. My camera sat on the bottom of my bag. It couldn’t be. But, there it was—I had spent a night in slight concern for nothing.
The Hmong ladies watched me carefully and then began laughing as I pulled it out. I exaggeratedly wiped my forehead and then hit it to indicate my chagrin and feeling of stupidity. Their laughter continued.

Well, I felt that maybe I needed to take a break and buy at least one cup of coffee here after my gaffe. I reviewed the menu and noted how overpriced everything was. I pointed to the noodle soup—“nonono”, they murmured. They didn’t have it. I pointed to the salad, “nonono”, they didn’t have that either.
Of the 100 items on the menu they only had ingredients for 5, none of which I could stomach at the first part of the day. So I just sat and asked for a cup of Lao coffee with milk. Maybe I will read a chapter and then move forward to the waterfall market and then hit another restaurant. Then I’ll visit the jungle and then head back to Don Det and then relax there.

But as I opened my book, my mind wasn’t focusing. You’re being too calculated. I could feel the shimmering feverish air from just outside the brushy overhang of the eaves, but the breezes into the restaurant were surprisingly cool.
It has all been slowing. Laos has been slowing me down.

The very pregnant lady was cutting up some oblong green fruit into thin slices. A 3-4 year old girl with a high pony tail picked up another sharp knife and began mimicking her mother’s movements cutting crooked slices onto the mat. After several pieces of fruit had been shaved into slices, the women and the girls all huddled around the plate on the woven mat. They gestured towards me to join them. I sipped on the thick dark coffee and nodded my assent.
The green fruit was un-ripened mango served with a spicy garlic and fish and cilantro sauce. They smiled and sang to me in that beautiful language of theirs.

I’m just going to sit here for a while.