Starving

So you know how you were a baby once, right? And the only thing you can eat is breast milk or formula? 

Pretty blah, right?

Then you eat oatmeal and you're thinking, "Man that stuff has a funny texture and tastes funny". Then comes baby food, "What?! stuff as flavor?" (Except those yucky kinds-like green beans-spit that stuff right out!)

AND THEN YOU GET TEETH! (Ouch!)

"What?! I can chew stuff?!-- This food is awesome!!! Bananas!? Spaghettios!? Holy moly!" And you want to eat all the time. Food food food, yum yum yum!

You are seriously starving to get a bite of your mom's food (even though you have a plate of your own). 

It's like once you get a taste of how delectable food is, you want it all the time!

It's kinda like I am an infant teacher (ok so I AM an infant teacher.) 

Started out this year kinda bland, testing the waters, getting a feel for how to do this thing called being a teacher. 

And then you try out some new ideas, trying to learn some new stuff [ahem] I mean teach new stuff. (but hey to teach is to learn right?).  And slowly things start to gain flavor. 

You start succeeding and gaining confidence, the classroom starts gaining personality, you're starting to get a feel for this 'eating' stuff. Sure, you taste a couple of bad experiences (green bean baby food-real green beans are the bee's knees), but you spit those out and carry on.

Now comes those teeth! Oooh ooow! Those growing pains hurt! But look at that! Some pearly whites to start chewing on stuff! I think I am in this phase. The phase where you just came through some growing pains as a teacher, but you started to get a real taste of what it's like to be a successful teacher. Your kids somehow learned more than you taught them!! (wahoo!) You soak up every opportunity to learn from experienced teachers- ideas, centers ideas, behavior management, cooperating with coworkers. Now you are starving!!! Everything has bold new flavors and you can't stop eating, can't stop learning. You want to go to tons of Professional Developments to learn as much as you can, now that you know how to apply it. (Boy, who would've thought I would LOVE PD's.) And you do what I just did and pin a ka-jillion things on pinterest to make over the summer and start reading blogs like they're spaghettios! 

I am starving for knowledge, starving for strategies, starving for any sort of advice teachers have to offer. Starving for the next chance to become a better teacher to the students entrusted to me. 

Growing is hard sometimes, and it can really hurt. But looking back at where you came from and realizing that you have learned something, and you have gotten better; it's an awesome feeling. 

So, uh, ya. On that note. I'm hungry now.

And now you know how much I like food. (a lot) :D 

They Say Home Is Where The Heart Is.

They say, “Home is where the heart is.”

But what if your heart is in two places at once?

I’m in the phase of being a new expat where you feel as though you have two homes.

Desperately trying to cling to the place I’ve called home for 23 years,

While loving and adopting Ho Chi Minh City as my new home.

Aching at the thought of missed band concerts, musicals, sporting events, graduations, wedding planning, family get-togethers, and friends;

But finding freedom and independence in living in a new place and learning-seeing new things.

Wanting to be in on all of the jokes and memories in this time of my family’s life,

Yet loving being able to make memories of my own.

It’s quite the mind boggle.

It’s pretty easy to get into routine and coast through life. I can’t believe I have been calling Vietnam home for 10 months! That is just loony. My first year of teaching has a mere 21 days left! It has gone by so fast. I have learned SO much! Not only have I learned how to actually be a kinda teacher, but I’ve adapted to a new culture, learned some of the language, learned how to ride a motor bike and not die in HCMC traffic (an accomplishment!—however no license yet.. sorry dad), made many new life long friends, and learned a lot about what makes me, me. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions from excitement, to deep valley lows, and back up to the tops of the mountains (literally—climbed Mt. Fansipan {dubbed “Fancy Pants}). It’s been a great experience and I am anxious to see what the next year (or more) has in store for me.

However, I have recently booked my airline tickets home. Knowing that there is a ticket home with my name on it makes is SUPER DEE DUPER hard to stay focused on the tasks at hand; such as, teaching kindergarten, finding a new house for next year, packing up this house, packing up the classroom, report cards, and the list ensues.)[ßMay be the wrong usage of ensues?] The workload is daunting and I’m tempted to pull a Krystal and just let it happen. Trying to be proactive in this time is much harder than usual. I also am trying to make the most of the time I have with the teachers not returning, and making a few more memories before everyone parts ways for the summer.

I am so ready to see my friends and family and welcome two new brothers into the family! It is very important to me to not wish away the precious time I have left with my inaugural Kindergarten class. They have taught me so much, and I love each and every one of them. It’s like being stuck in the middle of a rock and a hard place. Or maybe more like being caught in the ocean current. The open sea and the near by land are beckoning for me. The strength of the ocean current tosses me back and forth: “think about school, you’re almost done!” “No! You need to invest in your sisters before they marry off!” “Why do you want to be ‘done,’ don’t you like your kids, don’t you want to be their teacher?” “Shut up you! I want to hang out with my Iowans!” By the time you stagger to shore, your plum tuckered out and need a beer. Phew!

That’s pretty much where I’m at. Love my life here, but aching for that taste of home. Can your heart be in more places than one?

-On a side note, I just finished my 3^rd half marathon on Saturday! It was a blistering 107 degrees (41C) beginning at 3:30PM! Because of the severe heat, I ran slower than usual, but still came out with a 2:26 time. So I’m content with that.

We had a friend suffer a severe heat stroke at the end of his 10K race (5^th place!), and had to spend a scary night in the Phu Quoc small town hospital. But, thanks be to God, he is recovering and doing well! Keep him in your prayers as he continues to heal.

Alright, that’s all for now! Maybe next time won’t be so far off?

We’ll see. 

I am Fine. I am Wonderful. I am. I am.

"I am Fine. I am Wonderful. I am. I am."

-'Enzo' Garth Stien, The Art of Racing in the Rain

I recently read a book called The Art of Racing in the Rain. If you have not read this book, I HIGHLY recommend this book. It has left a massive impression. From the eyes of a dog you watch a man fall in love, have a baby, enjoy his family and racing career, his wife develop a brain tumor, and (to try not to spoil it for those who haven’t read it YET- ‘cause I know you will now!), intense suffering on the man’s behalf. Don’t scoff at the idea of it being from the viewpoint of the dog; Enzo is incredibly perceptive. Many of the quotes on my recent Facebook statuses are Enzo’s. Anyway, “I am fine. I am wonderful. I am. I am,” is uttered as he realizes his complaining to himself about something of minute importance. He watches Eve struggle to fight this tumor and his misfortunes pale in comparison. “I am fine. I am wonderful. I am. I am.”

I’m learning recently that this is truly something to be thankful for, to be fine, to be wonderful. Just Sunday evening (Vietnamese time), a beautiful woman named Pam Butler finished her battle with cancer. I knew her as a mother of three kids that came to play at our house. She always smiled and was genuinely interested in talking to a teenager like me. That’s about it.

But what I know about her is better. Evident by the huge support group corralling around her in her last moments sporting #teambutler signs (unless you are me and forget the ‘L’!!!!!); she was a woman of presence, impact, and love. A woman secure in her Faith in God. A very bright light on a hill, attracting all walks of people. She was an excellent mother, wife, and friend. Someone who you could talk with about anything, laugh with about anything, and cry with about anything. A woman who, though she may not understand why she is battling cancer, chooses to put her hope, life, and faith in Jesus and knowing he has a plan. ‘What does that look like?,” you might ask. Well if I may quote her last post in her blog, sharing with us their decision to desist invasive chemotherapy treatments:

God may be seeing this trial as a huge opportunity to bring more people to seek God, giving me an unbelievable opportunity to point more people to Christ, and build up treasure in Heaven, true riches in Christ. Our desire to have this trial removed from us maybe be taking away that opportunity to further the Kingdom for God. Or the impact that this could have on others in ways beyond what we can know or figure out. There is so much more to this life then the time that we are here.

Even in the last week of her life, she was choosing to believe in the plan larger than her life. I can assure you, Pam, something beautiful will come to pass in response to your response to God.

Laying on my bed in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, I’m trying to come to terms with this myself, and I gotta say, I suck at it. I’m asking questions like: Why such a great person? Why would You let someone who does so much for You go? Why would you plan this? Kinda selfish right, God?

Then I am reminded (thanks mom) that our minds are of that on Earth. We cannot comprehend what is after life on Earth, or our purposes in this life. To wake up everyday means I still have a purpose. I believe in afterlife. Eternity. Life on Earth is a 5K compared to the kazillion ultra marathons of eternity. While stranded here, we struggle to understand how we could possibly endure the rest of our Earthly lives with out Pam Butler and other dear ones who’ve passed on, we will be rejoined with them for the rest of eternity! Now that boys and girls, is a long time. Longer than a kazillion ultra marathons! So, we will see you again my friend, and we will be together forever. Literally.

Many of you have never really heard me speak like this, of spiritual matters. I usually keep to myself. I guess I needed to hash some stuff out. There’s a lot of emotions and thoughts that are bubbling out. I still don’t understand any of the answers to my questions (kinda don’t want to, I’m kind of stubborn sometimes), and probably won’t until I’m placed in the crucible, but her God given peace is encouraging. It’s a possible thing to achieve.

Oiye! Today has been a rollercoaster. Learning of a life cut short before a day of teaching 18 crazy 5 year olds can be taxing. Laugh, laugh, choke back tears, try to feign a laugh, take a break and cry, and jump back into educating.  At one point, I had been sniffling a little bit trying to hold it in, and someone asks me, “Ms. Krystal, are you sick?” I burst into tears. “No,” I thought, “I am healthy.” I am fine. I am wonderful. I am I am.

For now, what I am taking from this less than ideal circumstance, is that I don’t understand God. Hand slap to the face. No. That’s not it. Will anyone ever understand? Pam was grateful for every day she had. I want to be thankful for each day I wake up healthy. Cancer can take a life so quickly and carelessly. I want to tell my friends and family that I love them frequently, for you never know when it could be your last chance. Find Joy in the quicksand. It’s there, cling to it, it can keep you from drowning.

In closing, my heart is full of sorrow for the family and close friends, as you learn to cope with a vital organ missing from your family. But this life is temporary, she is free of pain, and we shall see her again! Hallelujah! 

I’ll leave you with another quote from The Art of Racing in the Rain. It’s one of my favorites.

To live everyday as if it had been stolen from death, that is how I want to live. To feel the joy of life, as Eve felt the joy of life. To separate oneself from the burden, the angst, the anguish that we all encounter every day. To say I am alive, I am wonderful, I am. I am. That is something to aspire to.

-Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain

In loving memory of Pam Butler. 

Shocked. Of the Culture Nature

-->

*I wrote this last week when I was feeling pretty blue, but I decided to post it anyways.

Sept 23, 2012 

Shocked. Of the Culture Nature

“The only real failure is the failure to try, the measure of success is how we cope with disappointment. And we must.”

I posted this quote when I first arrived to Vietnam. I came across it again today and had a think about it. School has been hard. I have definitely had failures. And so I thought, how have I been dealing with disappointment? Not the most eloquently. I often find myself going over the flops in my head, trying to figure out what when wrong. I become pessimistic and grumpy. I with draw from people and complain. I guess I was failing at the coping with failing, an culture shock. My awesome dad sent me a link to this positive teacher pledge. I read it every day, several times a day. I have highlighted the phrases that are most relevant to me. It helps me refocus during the day. http://www.jongordon.com/documents/PositiveTeacherPledge.pdf

For the first month and a half or so, I didn’t have any culture shock at all. I was loving this place! Then about last week the newness and ‘honeymoon’ phase wore off. I now am trying to find a way to make Ho Chi Minh City my home. I need to settle in. 90 percent of the time the noise and the trash and the masses of people don’t bother me. The other 10% of the time, I’m like this place is so dirty, there is piles of trash every where, I haven’t heard a bird chirping in months, I can’t stop sweating, WILL YOU PLEASE QUIT HONKING, and where is the FREAKING TARGET/WALMART?!?! Then it passes and all is well (mostly) again. I guess these are all phases of culture shock that we go through. I don’t think I believed in culture shock until now. It’s a real thing.

This week has been a hard week. I’d say it started last weekend. On Saturday, Michelle, Darren and I went to the Reunification Palace. I couldn’t really tell you anything about it as we didn’t take the tour, we just walked around and took pictures. I’d go again and take the free hour-long tour so I could at least learn something about the place. Then we met up with Alex and went to the War Remnant Museum. I was not prepared for what I saw. Shamefully, I don’t/didn’t/still don’t really know a whole lot about the war in Vietnam. But wow, that place was heavy. My heart broke for this country. The pictures of birth defects from the Agent Orange were so intense. So many of them were things that you would think you could only see in films. Just bizarre. I can’t bring myself to describe it, Google it if you are interested. I realize this is vague but, it’s all I can do right now. I realized that every story has different vantage points. I was floored at the brutality forced onto the Vietnamese from the US. But then I also thought, this is a communist country, how can I know to what extent this stuff is true. I have no doubts that wrong had been done, but just how much of this was exaggerated. I see people on the street that are missing limbs, or their knees bend the wrong way and their feet are permanently stuck to their hips, and I hurt inside. No matter what stories are true, the Agent Orange and other toxins brought over by the US could possibly be the cause of that person’s state. I am so thankful for 10 fingers and toes, and two legs that can hold me and arms that are functional. Wow.  I’m struck with the thought, “How can I not spare some ‘pocket change’ for these people. They can’t actually get a job, save for begging or crawling around and selling lotto tickets. I have been blessed to make so much here.”  As my dad would say, I’m blessed to bless others. It may not always be in the form of money, but I need to find a way to give to Vietnam.

Ok. Then my internet went out at home and couldn’t Skype my sister Kayla. The next morning I was supposed to Skype my whole family for my brother Kade’s birthday, so I hopped on my bike at 5:15 am to head to school to try and use the internet there.  No internet at school either. L I sat on the giant beanbags at school and cried for a minute. Then I called my family for a little bit. It was good to hear their voices, but I really wanted to see their faces. I love and miss you guys (guiltily) way more than I thought I would. I want to be there for the cross-country games and the band performances at high school football games, and singing and dancing with my sisters at ISU. I miss having chats with my dad, and coming and going throughout the day and talking to my mom. I’ve never been homesick before. It’s weird.

I’ve also read a few heavy books that break my heart all over again. While I love to gain new perspectives and read things that are more than fluff, I find it hard to separate myself from the literature. When I read a book, I really involve myself with the characters and their issues and their heartbreaks. Maybe this is why I am so somber today. I just finished a really good book, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I don’t know much about life on Native American Indian reservations, but this writer puts you there. You are seeing and feeling what he is feeling and wow, it really makes you think. He talks about how laughing and tears are basically the same thing. He laughs when he should cry and cries when he should laugh. I related with him in the way that he processes and he copes. I usually cope with humor. The way that he is so heartbroken that he laughs is almost worse to observe than crying. Crying, you at least know they are coping or feeling the pain. Laughing (in my observation’s eye, in this particular context) appears to reveal an even deeper lever of pain that you can’t even feel it. That’s just how this book struck me. Awesomely witty, yet deeply thought provoking. 

Today is more of a somber/reflective day. It’s a tough day. I feel like being honest with myself, honest with you, helps release it. I’m not holding it in too much, I’ve let a little out…

As I'm feeling stupid being in the pool of self pity, I'm looking around in the coffee shop and wondering what the others are feeling. I’m left with the really random thought that no matter what someone looks like, they have a soul, they have feelings, they have pain. Everyone has a story.

Everyone has a story. What’s mine?

Everyone has a story. What’s yours?

9 Million people in HCMC, 9 million stories…

Mũi Né and Colored Chicks

I am laying on my freshly made bed, and listening to ocean white noise to drown out the city sounds. I don’t mind the city, but sometimes I just don’t want to hear it!

I need to tell you about the past few weekends. We have had a great couple of weekends. Last weekend was a 3-day weekend for Vietnamese Independence Day (ironic it’s the same weekend as Memorial Day) and a big group of about 20 teachers hopped on a bus and rode 5 hours to a wonderful little beach named Mũi Né near Phan Thiết. It was the perfect get away.

Dragon Fruit Farms

We took off Saturday morning and rode up to the beach. We took one pit stop at a truck stop of sorts and bought some local junk food. I had some fried banana chips, sweet potato chips, some peanut brittle (top notch!), among my popcorn and Pringles. J  Along the way the concrete jungle gives way to the real deal. Green is everywhere! Hills and mountains emerge from the flat streets of the city. It’s beautiful! We spot these funny rows of a farm, and try to figure out what it is. They look like big, green, spider balls. Haha, I don’t know. At first the guess was aloe, but then I spotted a not-yet-ripened Dragon fruit. Dragon Fruit Farms! Mystery solved. Guess what else I saw rows of…. CORN. It was a ‘golden’ glimpse of home.

The cash register!

fresh fruit at the truck stop

this was an accident, but funny

Vietnamese junk food ;)

As we rolled into town, the bus would drop people off at their hotels. When they asked where my friends and I were staying (about 10 of us) they shook their hands and said “no” too far. Ahh, Vietnam, how you entertain me. Would you care to know just how far was too far? Two blocks. J I guess that was where their bus station was and they go no further. So we sashayed our way to our paradise for the weekend. It was just one walk way lined with cute little “guest houses” but they were connected. Palm trees and sand lined the walkway that glided right out to the ocean. We all dumped our stuff, changed into our sweeeming suits, and plunged into the waves. 

The view into the place!

Our beach!

bungalow's on stilts

After swimming for a bit, rented some bicycles for 2 dollars a day, and went about a mile to a nice place to eat with the rest of the AIS educators. This place was awesome! There are many little two bed bungalows and trees with hammocks. And OF COURSE, a ping-pong table. All of the bungalows were on stilts (reminded me of Dirty Dancing) and then opened up to the beach where there were sun chairs beneath cheery yellow canopies. That’s when we notice a big black cloud headed our way. It was pretty neat to watch a storm approach over the ocean; it’s impressive. It seems so much bigger. It’s much different than seeing it roll in over corn fields ;) 

cheery yellow awnings

Thar she blows!

So intense! Us Iowans were being all hickish watching the storm blow in!

After it dumps for 30 minutes or so it clears off and we ride home to change and get ready for the evening. All of the bars have a street and beach entrance. We went to a place called the Wax bar, got some grilled kabobs and headed to beach to have a few beers. That’s when we spot the sign for a BONE-FIRE. J Subtract the ‘e’ and you get a bon-fire! It was super fantastic evening complete with some chatting by the ocean when we got home.

foggy lense, but roomies +1 (Anastasia)

Fun jumping pic!

The next day is Sunday. We walk out of our rooms to the tables in the center beneath grassy roofs and have breakfast together. We decide to rent some motorbikes and head off the white sand dunes! It was farther away than the red sand dunes but less touristy. It turns out to be about a 45 minute drive, but it was spectacular as much of it was coastline, no stop lights, 1/3 the traffic of HCMC, and sunny J. 

Bike gang, most of the bikes you see are us!

The Dunes were so cool, you could spot them from a ways off! We turned onto a red dirt road (an experience in itself for the drivers, as there were huge pockets of sand that make it slippery and hard to balance if you have a passenger) and at last we have arrived. We park and spot coco-nuts, and since we are all thirsty and dehydrated, most of us purchase a nut! When Kevin was done with his, he had the machete lady whack his open to eat the flesh! It was yum!

some of the nuts

what the inside looks like!

flesh eater!

On to the sand! We rented a ‘sled’ and hiked up the sand to try some slanding (sand sledding, I just made that up right now). I don’t think we knew the trick, or our fat American butts were too big and our weight was not dispersed enough to go very far or fast. But it was still fun! It really is just amazing. SOO much sand in one place! Including every crevice of our bodies!

Cool huh!?

little pond on the wee hike to the dunes!

The best part: on our way back to our bikes, someone spots ostriches with a saddle. That is right, you could pay to ride and ostrich! 40,000 VND, so about $2! You bet your bottom dollar I did not pass up that opportunity! It was pretty fun! I couldn’t stop thinking about how I was Fritz from Swiss Family Robinson, bounding around the jungle aback an ostrich!

ostrich rodeo!

That night we found EXCELLENT Mexican food and went to a chill bar for a few beverages. This beach side was a bit smaller but there was a nice wide staircase by the ocean that we all sat on and chatted. I will remember these moments. We are all new friends getting to know each other while sitting on stairs by the ocean drinking margaritas.

teachah family!

Headed home the next day, our 3-day weekend over and back to reality. I was sad to leave the ocean. Hearing the waves rhythmically crash against the sandy beaches, always brings me to a state of contentment, same as watching fire flames dance. The ocean possesses so many metaphors. It is so vast, and so powerful. So violent, yet so peaceful; mysterious, yet serene. It’s almost hard to verbalize, yet you understand it. Ha, who knows what I’m trying to say. I never took a philosophy class!

me contemplating world thoughts

the back side of our place, i forgot to take other pictures :(

Have you ever thought about the people that work at destination places? They are serving a population of people who are on a break from reality. Their reality is our break. What do they do on their breaks? It’s weird.  I don’t think I’d like it, since people tend to be selfish and ‘all about me on these breaks’. Kudos to you resort folks! I was thinking about you as I endured our ride back to our reality. Boo.

OK! Fast forward to this weekend!

This Saturday was so much fun! (I am kicking myself for not having my camera this day, so many spectacular things to be seen!)

So many awesome and new things happened! Part of the bike gang and I took off to find some breakfast! Every time I drive somewhere on my bike that’s far away, I feel super proud for learning a new part of HCMC. After some yummy lemon French toast, Michelle and I head back towards home and run into two fellow teachers headed to the Bến Thành Market and we decide to go! I bought some beautiful dangly earrings and two pairs of sandals! Whoo hoo! Shoes that fit! The lady goes, “I have big shoe, come here” and pulls us over. I was so stupid and only brought ONE PAIR of sandals to Vietnam. Duh Krystal. She was so fun. I really enjoyed trying to chat with her. She pulls my hand towards her and places her palm in mine. The middle-aged woman’s entire hand about fit in my palm. I don’t think I have ever really felt like a giant until this point! We both laugh and shrug our shoulders.

 

That afternoon my teacher’s assistant Ms. Lam and her husband take me to a bookstore to look for some supplies I had been wanting and to get a beginners Vietnamese book complete with a CD. I am really appreciating the Linguistics courses I took that teach you about where the sounds are made in your mouth and how to make them and lo’ and behold, the phonetic alphabet is actually going to come in handy! (the book is about that kinda stuff) I’m excited to try it, I’ll let you know how I fare.

 

They then invite me to have a traditional Vietnamese meal!! I was excited. It was about a 45 minute motorbike ride to the out skirts of HCMC. On the way, I saw two AWESOME things.

1.     There are always a bunch of people setting up shop on the side of the street. They will have sandals or belts or wallets just laid out for you to peruse and purchase. Well… I saw a box of brightly colored stuffed chicks. As I got closer I realized they were not stuffed, they were actually baby chickens that were neon colors! WHAT?! Oh my word they were so cute! But what would I do with a colored chicken?

2.     Then, as I turn the corner, there are these racks with bags of water. What are in these bags? Beautiful colored fish! This place is crazy! As I said, I was kicking my self for not having my camera!

 

We arrive at the café and it is just gorgeous. I’m looking at a cobblestone walkway, green lawns, a stream with giant lily pads maybe 3 feet in diameter that have a ridge 2 inches high on the outside, grassed-roofed huts with food being cooked in them, teeny tiny tables with teeny tiny chairs, traditional games set up, and a giant swing- like two stories high, made from bamboo or something like that. It was so beautiful!

 

We walked around and they helped me gather some food to eat, among the selection was field mouse, water with honey, beef and octopus kabobs, some Vietnamese fajitas as I call them, fish (whole fish with scales, face, and all), and a Heineken! Delicious! I was nervous about the food, but it was so good! We ended with some ice cream, peanut brittle and tea. MM MM GOOD.

 

As we are leaving we hear that they are going to play bingo! But not just any BINGO, they sing at you! The bingo cards are three horizontal rows, with 5 numbers in each row, and the goal is to get all five numbers in one of the rows. They pick a number ball from the lot and sing a little jingle that rhymes with the number, and ends with the number itself. It was so fun! I knew by the man’s body language that it was funny, but as you know I do not speak Vietnamese, so I don’t know what he was saying! J

 

I had it in my pocket so it's the only picture sadly :(

 

 

Following BINGO, we spy a traditional game that resembles a piñata. There is a small clay pot that hangs from a hook. You are handed a stick and are given a chance to walk up to the pot and create your plan of attack to hit the pot. They then will blindfold you and you walk to the pot and try to break it with the stick. It is hilarious! These big tough men whack at it with all of their might just to miss! So funny, the crowd just roars in laughter. Ms. Lam’s husband offered me a shot at it and I hit it! But not hard enough and the clay pot came back to hit me in the head. J haha.

It was SO FUN. I was the only white person there and it was funny to see some of the looks I was receiving.

Well that is more than enough reading for you for a while. Hope you enjoyed experiencing the adventures with me!

Until next time,

Krystal