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.