Belated Merry Christmas!

Below is a video I made as a Christmas gift for my family of my life (and some of its hilarious or strange moments) here in Vietnam. I had to split it into 3 parts so it would upload. Enjoy! If you're just looking for a good laugh, skip to the third video: "Strange, Intersting, or Random Pieces of Life."

1. http://s1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd472/sjyoung2388/?action=view&current=ChristmasProject-Blog1.mp4

2. http://s1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd472/sjyoung2388/?action=view&current=ChristmasProject-Blog2.mp4

3. http://s1221.photobucket.com/albums/dd472/sjyoung2388/?action=view&current=ChristmasProject-Blog3.mp4

Also, I have a new photo site, as my former flickr site turned out to be very limited in the amount you can upload. So photos from the past couple months can be seen here: http://photobucket.com/sjyoung2388

Home(sick)

Despite the wonderful experiences here, one theme of life these past couple of months has been homesickness. I passed the 3-month mark of living in a foreign country, which is my longest stint thus far. And 3 major holidays have recently passed. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years were all celebrated away from home for the first time. I truly missed them. The season brought many remembrances of home and traditions that I would not be keeping this year. (Did I mention I ate a McDonald’s-like cheeseburger on Thanksgiving, Mexican on Christmas Eve, and Popcorn Christmas day? Ha!)

Yet beyond simply being gone for holidays, I’ve experienced boredom, loneliness, longing – often feeling the dull drone and ache of life. I’m forced to recognize that simply being “home” would not satisfy those desires. I’d find the dull drone and ache there also. Perhaps it’d be more easily staunched, cauterized by familiarity and materialism. But it would still leak out at times.

C.S. Lewis writes, “If I find within myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” In his address “The Weight of Glory,” Lewis expounds. The appeal of a gold, pearly, shiny eternity is, admittedly, not very appealing to our senses. But have you ever felt a deep, sad, beautiful, paradoxical longing after listening to beautiful but ethereal piece of music? Or a thick nostalgia after digging through old photos? Even the happy or bittersweet endings of movies—from romantic comedies to epic hero tales—that leave you with this twinge of desire or longing?

These things that we name nostalgia, romanticism, or adolescence with its passions and dreams, are really a stirring in our heart for something more fulfilling than any of those things themselves can ever be. Lewis writes,

“If we are made for heaven, the desire for our proper place will be already in us, but not yet attached to the true object, and will even appear as the rival of that object. …In speaking of this desire for our own far-off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence. …We cannot tell [this secret] because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it

…Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter. …But all this is a cheat. …The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself, they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.

Do you think I am trying to weave a spell? Perhaps I am; but remember your fairy tales. Spells are used for breaking enchantments as well as for inducing them. And you and I have need of the strongest spell that can be found to wake us from the evil enchantment of worldliness which has been laid upon us for nearly a hundred years.”

I’ve been experiencing a homesickness for true home. If I take away from this year a recognition that this world is not truly home and a hunger and restlessness for my real home, it should make the difficulties of the process worth it. I’m also encouraged that the Son himself probably experienced many of these same aches throughout His time on earth, and it is just one aspect of what makes him a perfect intercessor, familiar with our weaknesses.

Christmas Elf

Things happen here that just make me laugh because they are so foreign to my experience. On our way home from the city center yesterday, we stopped at KFC for dinner. Some of the employees at the counter speak some English. Everyone is getting out their Christmas decorations this time of year (which still baffles my internal clock since the weather just began to feel like September), so the employees were all sporting Santa hats.

After getting our food, we went up to the second floor, sat down in a high-backed booth, and began eating. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a Santa-hatted, tan, smiling Vietnamese face literally popped up behind my head and was coupled with a simultaneous (accented ) “Hello!” His crossed arms were resting on the back of the high booth-bench and his chin was resting on top the crossed arms. (Please create a mental picture!) It was the employee who had taken our order. He proceeded to happily start chatting away and watching us eat our entire meal. Gratefully, I wasn’t directly facing him, so I didn’t have to compress my disbelieving-smile-that-this-was-actually-happening as much as Sarah did. He couldn’t understand much of what we said, but was eager to continue the conversation anyway. Example: At one point Sarah asked him if he celebrated Christmas. His answer was, “My birthday is October 7^th.” Conversation ranged from his age (20), to where he learned English, to what he was studying, to why I ordered the part of the chicken that I did (we think – we’re still not exactly sure what he was saying).

And then all of a sudden he wasn’t there. His exit was as abrupt as his entrance, suddenly dashing away.

When the REI board was here a few weeks ago, one of them mentioned that they loved Vietnam because of all its surprises. This experience definitely fell into that category. As we left the restaurant and let loose previously stifled peals of laughter, I felt like the experience was one that came from a movie. I wish I had a video or picture to share with you. But I guess I’ll have to leave it up to your imaginations. We enjoyed our Christmas Elf visit.

Thanksgiving x4

This week I celebrated my first major holiday away from home. And it did, indeed, make me homesick.  I missed the family traditions and the inner feeling of warmth and excitement that comes with this season. But our Thanksgiving here was not ignored. In fact, I celebrated the holiday four times.

Wednesday: We had a number of students over (about 27), and Sarah shared with them the history of the holiday and many of its traditions. Though we didn’t have a meal, the students were introduced to microwave popcorn. They didn’t believe Sarah when she told them this flat, brown paper bag was going to become popcorn when she put it in the microwave. They were mesmerized. Of course, the time couldn’t pass without requests for songs. Eventually, several of them ended up performing a children’s song here about a duck. The results were hilarious.

Thursday: Sarah and I taught until 5:30pm, and then headed to the grocery store. Our “Thanksgiving Dinner” consisted of cheeseburgers and fries from Lotteria (think McDonald’s) before we commenced shopping. Yes, it was anti-climactic and felt nothing like Thanksgiving.

Friday: We invited several of the other teachers living in the guest house, a couple other REI staff, and a couple Vietnamese friends to share the holiday with us. We made sure there were mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie, which turned out to be quite the task, running all over Hanoi to find foreign goods stores that carried the ingredients we needed and finding an oven to bake everything in (thanks Ginny!). Then we asked each guest to bring a cultural dish to share. 11 guests total, representing 6 countries (U.S., Philippines, Spain, India, Vietnam, and China). Talk about an international Thanksgiving! So much fun. An extra special treat was that the woman who cleans the guesthouse for us (who we had invited and who had initially declined) ended up joining us for a while. We were also grateful the kitchen transformed so beautifully and that our first pumpkin pie baking experience was a success!

The Group! Minus Sam, the only male represenative.

Our version of a turkey. And the pretty table!

Enjoying pumpkin pie for the first time.

Saturday: We were invited over to another REI staff’s home for a traditional American celebration of the holiday with other ex-pats living in the area. Turkey, potatoes, stuffing, and all the fixings. It was delicious. And much more relaxing than being the host.

Overall, it was an enjoyable holiday. I’m so grateful for the people that have been put in my life here, and for the time I got to spend with them this week celebrating. I also don’t need to eat anything for the next week.

Settling the Score

Just thought it should be known that Sunday night I did, indeed, kill the cockroach. It may or may not have involved a little bit of screaming, standing on a bed, lots of orange scented bug killing spray (which doesn't actually seem to work very well), a broom, and a cheerleader (i.e., Sarah). But the nasty bug is now dead. I'll consider myself very blessed if that's the only time this year I have to deal with these critters.

But it does really make me wonder - why were these things created? And moreover, called good? Same with mosquitos. Did they not used to bite? 6 inch long poisonous centipedes? I was reading the other day about foot-long centipedes that can hang from the ceiling of caves and eat bats. Maybe Tolkien's and Lewis's fantasy words aren't quite so far from reality as I once thought they were. These thoughts tie back to a theme I've been trying to begin to grasp for a while: What do goodness and beauty really look like? I know the Father is the epitomy of these things--or rather, defines them. But what do they look like in life? I think we "cuddle-ify" them in our imaginations far too frequently.

Cockroach - 1, Samantha - 0

Today I returned to my room and was walking past my bed when I saw a large blackish dot near the wall that half-registered in my brain as an insect. I did a double-take and found there was, indeed, a cockroach sitting there motionless. My first reaction was to put on closed-toe slippers, open the door, grab a broom, and mount my bed (all while staring at the insect, of course, to make sure it didn't move). My intention was to sweep it outside, making the first swipe while perched atop the bed in case anything should go amiss.

So I stood there. And I stood there. And I stood there some more, trying to make up my mind to actually execute the action plan. I’m sure if anyone glanced in through the open door they were thoroughly amused to see an American standing on her bed, broom in hands, staring at the floor. After literally at least 5 minutes (and several false starts), the critter decided it wasn’t going to wait for me to shoe it. It ran back behind my nightstand/bed. Ironically, despite knowing that it was still in my room, I felt better simply having it out of sight.

Pathetic? Yes. I’m well aware. Irrational? Again, well aware.

Last week I successfully chased an ugly critter about half the width and twice the length of a cockroach out of room with a broom. But today, defeat. Maybe next time I’ll settle the score. I think I need to invest in some bug-killing spray. I’m currently hoping cockroaches don’t climb walls/ceilings. If you know the answer and it’s a yes, don’t tell me. Ignorance is bliss in this particular situation.

Oh. And I now have two footprints on my previously clean bed sheets.

Dandelions

I’ve been trying to put a finger on the restlessness I’ve begun to feel in the past month. It’s not overwhelming. But sometimes something seems missing. A bit of loneliness. Though it took me a while to figure out the reason, the answer now seems obvious. I’m in transition. And with transition anywhere comes a season of re-developing relationships.

I miss the ease, comfort, and fun of friendships back home. I dislike this awkward period of beginning relationships, even though it certainly has its beautiful moments. And I am frustrated by the lack of closeness I feel in my new Vietnamese friendships. But I’m forgetting just how long it took to develop the close relationships I experienced back home. I’m comparing relationships that have been in place for no longer than 2 months to friendships I built over at least three years. Also, this stage is something I’d be experiencing no matter where in the world I was right now - saying goodbye to college friends and transitioning into the “real world,” including many new relationships.

Granted, the process is magnified by being in a different cultural context. Fewer common experiences make for more difficulty in truly understanding and relating. The relationships are equally precious, but seemingly slower in developing. Brian, the director of REI-VN, wisely pointed out that our friendships here could actually be growing three times as quickly as they did in the U.S., but the gap between our backgrounds (not to mention language!) is so great that the relationships still may not feel as close as ones we developed over an even shorter period of time back home. (Say, for example, 3 weeks? Shout-out to CO training folks!)

So how does all this relate to dandelions? Sarah and I were talking about this transitional stage, and she made a great analogy. Our friendships from home are like a dandelion. We grew up together for a period of time in the same stalk and flower. We experienced the awkward beginning stages as the green plant began poking up from the ground. Then those friendships blossomed. And as we grew, we impacted and shaped one another, truly affecting who we have become today.

But dandelions turn white. They die. And the seeds are blown apart, in every which direction. Perhaps to Colorado, Michigan, North Dakota, Texas, Kentucky…the Dominican Republic, Guinea Bissau, Japan, Thailand, Slovenia, Uganda, Turkey, Vietnam, Northern Minnesota...you get the idea.

It’s simultaneously a sad and a happy phenomenon (oh the paradox of life). And one that will repeat itself who knows how many times in each person’s life. The concept’s by no means new. But I liked the dandelion picture. And how viral dandelions can be. I wonder what we would find if we could pick one of today’s dandelionsand trace the story of its ancestral seeds all the way back to their origination? Food for thought.