Life is Like a Cup of Coffee

From one coffee lover (addict) to another:

Coffee is a ubiquitous analogy. During college, several assignments required that I choose some sort of object as a symbol of what I’d learned. Hated these types of assignments, but each time, coffee was my go-to, and the resulting analogies turned out to be surprisingly fitting. So now I turn to it again, but on a broader scale: coffee as an analogy for life.

Life is like a cup of coffee…

1.       It’s an acquired taste. Now hold up. Life is an acquired taste? What’s that supposed to mean? Well, think about it. When you first started drinking coffee, it wasn’t actually the coffee flavor you loved, but all the sugar, chocolate, and other candy bar flavors that it included. Now think back to childhood. The experiences you initially appreciated when young were those that were easy and fun. Sweet. Anything involving pain, delayed gratification, or hard work, you disliked – it seemed dark and bitter. Black coffee.

 

However, as you continued drinking the sugary-sweet “coffees,” you slowly began to enjoy the rich, bitter aftertaste of the coffee itself.  You started adding less caramel. Less whip. So it is in life with hard work and difficult experiences. Though you don’t often appreciate them at the time, you look back and realize how they’ve shaped your life and character; you see they’ve been for your good all along, and you enjoy that delicious bitter aftertaste. It’s the paradox, the juxtaposition, of those two things—“bitter” and “delicious”—that makes the analogy so fitting.

 

Thus, the love of all of life (not just the sweet parts) is an acquired taste – one acquired through gratitude and trust, and one we’ll continue acquiring in increasing measure until we reach eternity and perfectly see the perfect goodness of every bitter brew.

 

2.       The best things come through pressure and heat. Similar to number one. But think about it. To brew that perfect cup of coffee, the grounds undergo scalding water. In the case of the espresso for specialty drinks, the grounds are first compressed and then scalding water is forcibly shot through them. The result? Deliciousness in a cup. Isn’t that true of life, as well? No pain, no gain.

 

3.       Varieties are endless. Choose a regular cup o’ joe, the half-caf no-whip skinny soy almond vanilla latte on ice, or one of a million other varieties for every mood and every weather. The decision is overwhelming. The variety of life situations and decisions you’ll encounter is also endless and will feel overwhelming. But as you start to make many decisions that significantly impact your future, keep this in mind. God cares more about WHO you ARE, than WHAT you DO. Not that he doesn’t have a plan for your life. Not that he’s not guiding you. But if you look at the Bible, God dropping signs out of the sky, whispering voices, moistening fleeces, etc to show people what specifically to do with their lives was the exception, not the norm. We don’t find commandments about what job we should take or who we should marry. But we are repeatedly commanded to pursue holiness. So let this be the basis for your decision-making. Will it further His kingdom? Will it sanctify me? And then…go for it! Will you feel nervous? Yes! Big decisions are unsettling. But as long as you are pursuing holiness and His kingdom, whatever decision you make will be good.

 

(On a side note, you could also apply these endless varieties to people – so many different kinds of people you will meet – some fruity, some nutty, some bitter, some sweet, some perky…choose carefully which one you’ll be, ha!)

 

4.       Better when savored slowly! Sure, you can gulp down that cold press with white chocolate in a few sips. But really, it’s so much better to let it trickle over your tongue and reach those back corners of your mouth, fully activating all taste buds. Apply to life. It’s so, so easy to not live in the present – to always be thinking of (and wishing for) the past or imagining the future – wishing for the end of the work day, wishing for the end of the school year, wishing for…whatever. But the only thing we truly ever have is the present, and it’s better to savor it. How? I think the key, again, is gratitude. Active gratitude. There’re so many cheesy but true quotes I could insert here. “The journey is the destination.” “Don’t count the days, make the days count!” “Present moment living is at the heart of joyful living, because… tomorrow is just another present moment when it arrives.” Yet another lesson we’ll be learning our whole lives.

So there you have it. Life wisdom through the lens of coffee.  Told you it could be used as an analogy for everything.

With Love & Caffeine,

Samantha

 

*Initially, this was written to my little brother, Christopher. He graduated from high school last June, and as I wanted to write something meaningful, I chose the subject to be something we both heartily enjoy - coffee. I stumbled across it again tonight, and since my life's been particularly caffeinated of late, decided to share this slightly modified version.

New Views

So this is where I'm sitting right now.

It's my roof. :) I'm listening to the murmur of cicadas, construction, honking, and children's voices. Really enjoying my time up here these days, now that the weather's cooled to more or less comfortable temps. My roof even has it's own, well, roof, so the hammock's just as usable when it rains. Almost a bit of peaceful space in this crazy city.

I've been meaning to get this post up for a couple of months now. (Oops.) I can't believe how the time has flown - October's already over!? It's partly the weather/my brain playing tricks on me. Right now temps are roughly equivalent to Minnesota's late August, so my brain just can't comprehend that it's practically November. Anyway, here's a few pictures of my "new" neighborhood.

I wouldn't go so far as to say it's a "charming" place to live. I doubt Vietnamese would describe it as
such, either. But it does hold some bit of charm somewhere in it's narrow allies, graying but colorful houses, Vietnamese flags, vine-draped power lines, and neighborhood shops. There's also something a bit homey about the constant motion of people out playing volleyball, kids kicking soccer balls, grandma's chasing toddlers, etc.

Oh, and I should note that the lack of people/things on the road are highly abnormal. These were shot on a very hot day a couple month's ago over the lunch hour, when everyone's home for food and naps. 

So. For those of you who've been wondering where on earth I live these days...there it is. :)

5 Minutes of Enchantment

I’m not particularly in love with Hanoi as a place. Now let me qualify. There are some very dear people here that I would be quite sad to never see again. I feel like I’ve learned, and continue to learn, incredible amounts through experiencing life here. And there really are things about it I enjoy – Vietnamese food being a huge part of that.

But the city itself, with its traffic jams, polluted air, congested sidewalks, and smelly, well, smells, doesn’t hold a particularly fond place in my heart. I can’t say I missed it while home this summer.

Tonight I went jogging. It was dark. About 7:30pm. I was running around a small, man-made lake in a park about ten minutes from my house. There were a few other people (50? 75?) out enjoying the park as well: couples cuddling on benches under trees, families with young children riding scooters, friends exercising. Skirting the edges inside the park fence stood various beverage and ice cream stands lit up by colored lights. There was even a ball pit for children (think McDonald’s “playplace” plastic ball area), new since I last ran two days ago. Outside the park fence was a lively, night street-food scene. Hundreds of people eating and drinking at the mini plastic tables and chairs. Even with an earbud in my left ear I could hear the din of conversation and clink of dishes. A breeze was coming off the “lake.” I could see the partial moon hanging in the edge of the sky and reflecting off the ripples.

Tonight, for 5 minutes, I was enchanted with Hanoi. There was a bit of a swelling in my chest – a sweetness mixed with longing and love. Like a moment from a Disney movie or fairytale, with a dusting of magical sparkle. The constant flow of people out and about everywhere all the time give it a buzz of excitement I just haven’t experienced anywhere else. I caught a glimpse of Hanoi’s character – part of what distinguishes it from the U.S. and even its southern counterpart, Saigon.

No, this wasn’t some life changing event. I occasionally experience these nostalgic pangs (for lack of a better way of describing them) at home in the U.S. when I catch a glimpse of the painful beauty of life or when I visit a childhood haunt and replay idyllic memories in my mind’s eye. Soon something jars me back to reality and the idealism’s gone. But the fact that I even now have enough history in and knowledge of Hanoi for this to begin to happen here, in this city, is exciting to me. A first.

 Hopefully not a last.

Resettling

I've basically gotten unpacked and settled in to the new room and house I'll be living in this year. I've also learned to navigate the maze of alleys that lead to it (and am able to show taxi/xe om drivers where to go!). Working on memorizing all the street names around here. Figured out how to get a bus to work and how to walk there if I have 45 minutes to kill.

There're a few bonuses to living here.

1) There's a market literally right outside the door. When I open the door and step out, I have to be careful not to step on the longans being sold on my doorstep. Should make getting fresh produce convenient and convince me to practice my market Vietnamese more frequently.

2) There's a small park about a 10-minutes walk away where I can go running. In the morning it's filled with literally hundreds of Vietnamese doing morning exercises and you have to constantly dodge or squeeze between walkers/joggers on the path in order to actually run. But it's a place! Song Hong half marathon here I come!

3) I have awesome housemates. One's an American teacher who worked at the same university as me last year. The other is sweet Chilean woman. Both have lived in Vietnam for years, so in addition to being awesome, they're also great culture and language resources. However, I do feel like the baby of the house, being significantly younger and having been here for less time than either of them. :)

Here's a couple pictures of my room. Hopefully some neighborhood pics to come soon.

Smattering of Thoughts on Gratitude

I woke up this morning* (*Monday 8/19, posting postponed due to rather uncooperative internet) at 4:30 – thanks jetlag - to a cockroach on the kitchen floor and ants swarming the kitchen counter. Now I’m sitting here writing this while waiting for the slow internet to work to send an email. I’ve been trying for the last half hour.

Kind of ready to turn around and go back home. The ease. The convenience.

Then I remembered a story the Speaker at the Fellowship I attend told yesterday. He had a group of Nigerians visiting, staying in his home. He asked them what, overall, they best liked about Vietnam. Their answer? The more stable internet connection and electricity! Ha. Oh, perspective!

Gratitude’s been on my mind a lot lately (for the whole past year, too). Funny how that was also the topic discussed at Fellowship yesterday. The Speaker shared another story that illustrates my mindset most days pretty well. Imagine a beggar on the street. A person walks by, has compassion, and gives him some money. The next day, he does the same. This continues for an entire week. The next week, the same person walks by but is preoccupied and doesn’t notice the beggar. The beggar yells out, “Hey, where’s my money!?”

Yup, this is my daily sense of self-entitlement. I’m used to enjoying lots of good things. Things I don’t deserve. At first I might be grateful, but pretty soon I forget that I’m not actually owed them. And when they’re no longer there, I get defensive and crabby.

I also read an interesting article this morning about Vietnam which shares some of the same topical themes: http://vietnamnews.vnagency.com.vn/Talk-Around-Town/226333/are-we-content-or-oblivious.htmlutm_source=Family+Newsletter+August%2C+2012&utm_campaign=Google+Analytics&utm_medium=email

The article discusses Vietnam’s 2^nd place status in the 2012 Happy Planet Index, and the author questions whether this actually stems from oblivion or contentment. My follow up question is, “Is oblivion always a bad thing?” Obviously it can be, but sometimes I wonder if a little more oblivion as to what we don’t have wouldn’t help us “well to do” countries out sometimes. Seems like the 80 year old woman from Hanoi, Nguyen Thi Vinh, has the right idea when she said, "You could not imagine how miserable life was decades ago. I could not enjoy a single peaceful night or even a meal without rushing off to a bomb shelter. We now have nice food to eat, good clothes to put on and don't have to see our family members or friends killed. What else could we ask for?"

Actually, that sounds a lot more like gratitude to me than oblivion. Contentment stemming from gratitude. How closely those two things are connected!

I do have to wonder about the demographics of the thousand Vietnamese people interviewed, though. At least in my limited experience here, I feel the younger generation is overall less content than the older with their given status. 

And now I'm off to navigate the bus system for the first time since being back. We'll see if I can keep these thoughts on gratitude an its connection with contentment in mind as I do so!

Let's Celebrate!

This past week I've had about three different blogposts running around in my mind, but due to the craziness of visits with friends, gift shopping, goodbyes, and packing I just haven't had time to get them down on paper (or computer screen, as the case may be). Now, however, I'm sitting in the Korean airport for the next 4 hours, enjoying Caribou Coffee for the first time in 9 months, and hoping to finally sift through some of these thoughts.

So first up: celebrations. The Vietnamese way of celebrating things kind of clashes with my cultural upbringing and personal preferences. Celebrations tend to be loud, with loud music, flowery speech, and strange games. And they definitely wouldn't be complete without someone singing a song...or 2 or 3. If gifts are given, they're often, well, not exactly what I would pick out for myself, shall we say - involving squirrel key chains, or pink plush pig cell phone holders (I didn't know it was a cellphone holder until about 2 months after I received the gift), or glittery photo albums with a large teddy bear on the front, or a foot tall statue of a Vietnamese woman in traditional garb. You get the idea. Additionally, as far as interpersonal interaction goes during a celebration, you won't really find small clusters of conversation happening in groups of 2's, 3's, or 4's. The group stays a group and talks as a group - which sometimes involves yelling so you can be heard.

These characteristics pretty much hold true regardless of the size or location of the celebration. I've seen them played out on the "small" scale in my classrooms of 25. Imagine my surprise one day last Fall when I unsuspectingly walked into class to find it was Women's Day; the students had brought a gift, decorated the classroom, and prepared a song to sing, as well as games with small prizes for each girl. And of course, whenever they give a gift, they ask you to sing a song. I usually find a way to get out of the singing, hopefully fairly graciously, but I have ended up singing "You are my Sunshine" and "Mary Had a Little Lamb" several times this year.



What made me think of the topic of celebrations more this week was a much larger scale celebration. On Monday, the International Standards Program hosted its student-led good bye "prom." It involved 2 student emcees, complete with formal attire and costume changes half-way through, a fashion show showcasing class t-shirts, many songs and dances by students, and even a song/dance performance by many of the teachers. Of course the music is so loud you think you're going to go deaf and wish you'd remembered the ear plugs that you always tell yourself not to forget the next time you go to a similar event...and yet somehow always forget.

And yet. I. Had. Fun.

Wait, what? Did that just come out of my mouth? Granted, I was in the audience the vast majority of the time - I only had to flood the stage once during the final song when my students literally came and pulled me up (along with many other teachers). But the night really got me thinking about some of the positive aspects of this cultural difference.

First of all, the Vietnamese really know how to have a good time! I mean, come on, think about Northwestern's graduation ceremony, compared with the one described above. They know how to stir things up and thoroughly enjoy themselves.  More power to them!

Secondly, something Sarah has pointed out in the past, there's a lot more humility or a lot less self-awareness here, at least when it comes to singing or performing in front of groups of people. I'm not entirely sure why. Perhaps because they grow up with it being such a normal part of life. Perhaps because the individual isn't singled out as much. Perhaps there're other explanations. But many are willing to just jump in and have a good time...even on stage in front of 600 people when they can't hold a tune. You just don't see that in the U.S., and I admire their ability to do that.  

Finally, I appreciate how they really take the time and energy to mark these occasions, these stepping stones in life. Much better to have an over-the-top celebration than to not celebrate enough! It really brings a sense of closure and commemorates the end of a year. Talk about going out with a bang!

I can't say these cultural practice are ones that I'll choose to take back with me to the states and implement in my own life. I'm sorry, but me and karaoke still just don't get along. But I'm beginning to see some of the possible reasons and good that come out of these cultural differences that were initially (and often continue to be) overwhelming.  

A Matter of Perspective

Remember that endearing little children’s book, Too Much Noise, by Ann McGovern? The one with the old man who has a house that’s just way too noisy? His teakettle’s always whistling, his bed’s always creaking, and his floor is always squeaking. Apparently this noise really starts to get to old Mr. Peter, because he takes the time and energy to seek out the village’s wise man. He asks the wise man what on earth he should do. And the wise man tells him to get a cow. The old man’s a bit confused, but conceding to the elder’s knowledge, he goes and buys a cow and brings it into his house.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to help. It actually seems to worsen the noise levels, as now the mooing of a cow has been added to all the aforementioned noises. Baffled and a bit frustrated, the old man goes back to the wise man and complains that the remedy didn’t work. The wise man nods knowingly and then suggests that the man get a donkey. Old Peter complies, but again, he notices no improvement; in fact, it has worsened once again, with the donkey hee-hawing at all hours of the day.

Again he returns to the wise man, rather peeved. The wise man seems prepared for this and tells Peter to go get a sheep. The pattern continues until the old man is utterly and entirely fed up. He goes to the wise man one last time to tell him off, because he has followed the man’s letter to a T and yet his situation has only deteriorated. But this time, the wise man says something different. The wise man tells him to get rid of the sheep. Get rid of the donkey. Get rid of the cow. And all the other animals the man has accumulated. Old Peter quickly and gladly complies. To his astonishment, once the animals are gone, his house is quiet! The bed creaks quietly, the floor squeaks reassuringly, and the teakettle whistles warmly – perfect peace.

Oh the difference of perspective!

Hanoi is teaching me this perspective right now. It’s a very good analogy for the noise here. From unbelievably loud (and strange sounding) frogs croaking in the “pond” ten feet in front of my room, to the day-and-night honking traffic (I still don’t understand why cars want to have horns that sound like semis or trains!), to the sounds of construction (dump trucks dropping loads of gravel and the rhythmic bangings of hammers on metal at 7am), to the blasting late-night concerts a hundred or two yards away from my room), the noise levels here make any complaints I had at home seem utterly trivial.

And this lesson can be applied to many other senses here well. Smells, for example. The smell of warm, rotting garbage in the 100+ degree heat index and crazy humidity, the fumes from the choking gray exhaust of buses, the smell of sewage wafting from, well, many places, and the stink of body odor of 25 sweaty university freshman in the non-air conditioned classrooms make the occasional whiff of bad air or skunk stench passed along the highway at home seem like heaven.

I could continue with examples of some of the other senses. And I think the analogy applies well to conveniences and experiences, also (oh to have a car, clear and level sidewalks, and traffic that follows traffic laws!). But I think I’ve made my point.

I’m not writing these things to complain. I’m not bitter. (…Well, usually, anyway; as long as there’s no car bellowing its horn so loudly as I thread my way across a busy street that I jump out of my skin). I’m actually laughing right now. But I’m choosing the negative things to draw out the brilliant comparison explored in Ann McGovern’s little book.

These experiences make me truly excited for a summer at home. As one fellow REI staff member from Minnesota recently said, “living in Hanoi will really make you relish the time you spend back in Minnesota.” So. True. Really, truly, it’s hard to fully appreciate what you’ve got until it’s gone. Gratefully, I get the chance to go back to it for a while, soon, and appreciate it more thoroughly.

Check These Out

So I'm going to take the easy way out on this blogpost, simply giving you some other links to follow of awesome writing others have done about experiences, life, and perspectives in Vietnam. Why bother rewriting what's already been said well by others?

1. One More Scribe - Sarah recently blogged about a trip we took to the middle/south of Vietnam, gosh, about 9 weeks ago, already. http://onemorescribe.wordpress.com/author/onemorescribe/

2. The City that Never Sleeps In - the writer of this blog comes from Australia and has lived in Vietnam several years. Her blog is hilarious and witty, and often captures the anomolies of life here in Vietnam. Her writing puts into words/pictures many of the things I've noticed about life here in Vietnam...or warns me of things I haven't yet experienced. ;) I'm invariably laughing after reading her entries. http://www.thecitythatneversleepsin.com/

3. REI - Vietnam Blog. Great posts by other REI Vietnam resident staff, including information about a new cafe one family recently opened, and a great post titled "Hiccups in the Year of the Dragon," talking about expectations, adjustments, and goals during transition here in Vietnam.   http://reivietnam.org/blog

Ha Long Bay

Ha Long Bay is one of Vietnam's most renowned locations, and it finds itself listed among UNESCO's World Heritage sites. It's apparently also been a film location of a James Bond movie scene. Even though it's only a 3.5 hour bus ride from Hanoi, I hadn't made it there this year until last Thursday. With Sarah, a couple of Vietnamese friends, and a Singaporian acquaintance, we took a very long day-trip to visit. The early morning started off with a four hour bus ride, and then continued on a two-decker wooden boat where we saw this:

As you can see, it's a bay scattered with thousands of these karst islands. (I recently learned that a karst mountain/island is a large piece of limestone jutting upward out of the earth.) At the beginning of the tour, our guide told us that we would get to see the largest of the fishing villages. What I didn't realize is that the fishing villages are villages made up of boats and rafts (see below). One boathouse was even the designated school. Can you imagine growing up here?

Brings a whole new meaning to the words "mini-mart" and "concession stand." (I can't decide which is the better comparison).

There are a number of caves that have formed inside these karst structures over the years and we got to take a whirlwind tour of the largest. Of course, it woulda been boring with just white lights. Gotta have the color so that, amidst all the incredible formations, you don't forget you're in Vietnam.




 Then we had a 20 minute kayaking adventure. Nga's first time ever! Well, mine too, for that matter, I guess. We weren't the most coordinated but we manged to get around without crashing into anything.

And of course, it wouldn't be Vietnam if there weren't construction going on somewhere nearby. Check out the guy IN the tube and ON the type welding.

After about four hours on the boat, we arrived back at the dock, loaded onto a bus, and survived the four hour trip home again, exhausted. Good but full day.

You Know You're Not in the U.S. When..., Part 2

As life continues here, fewer things come as surprises, but there’s still plenty to remind me that I’m not in the U.S. So, here goes installment 2. You know you’re not in the U.S when…

…it’s easier to find a karaoke bar than a gas station

…it’s perfectly acceptable to pick your nose unashamedly anywhere and everywhere…in class, driving your motorbike, walking in the park.

…paper isn’t 8.5 by 11 inches. (Which, I guess, why would it be when the vast majority of the world  [though not including Britain, I learned today!] measures in centimeters, but I was still rather shocked when a piece of paper from here wouldn’t fit into the “normal”-sized sheet protector I’d brought with from the states.)

…it’s considered polite to hand things using two hands, not one – especially if you’re in a position lesser authority

…“please do not squat on the toilet” signs are necessary in bathroom stalls with traditional western toilets

…luck is a very important consideration in the taking of pictures (3 in a picture is unlucky), setting of dates (there are unlucky years to be born, unlucky years to get married, and lucky dates for almost every event), and many other aspects of life. And rather than setting New Year’s Resolutions, people go to temples to wish for luck and success.

…all holidays have to have corresponding songs; when sharing about Thanksgiving traditions, our students couldn’t believe that there was no such thing as a Thanksgiving song

…milk is bought off of a shelf, rather than from the refrigerator section

…aerobics and tae kwon do classes meet in public squares, and life around them goes on as normal. (You know, this really doesn’t strike me as that funny anymore. Am I acculturating??)

…motorbike or bicycle parades of identically dressed employees flouting a company’s banner weave nonchalantly in and out of traffic as a real, live advertisement mechanism. Who needs billboards? I once saw a line of 5+ petite Vietnamese females dressed in matching blue Santa Clause suits and wearing fake white beards riding along the street in front of our university. On the one hand, I have no idea what they were advertising, but on the other hand, it sure got my attention.

…manikins never wear zipped pants because the pants that perfectly fit the customers are too small to circumference the manikin’s waist

…it’s more common to see men peeing in public than to see two people kissing in public

…pajamas are perfectly acceptable street wear/outdoor attire

Would You Rather? -Vietnam Edition

You know the game. Now it’s time to do it up Vietnamese-style. Some of these situations may or may not have been based on real life experiences.

Situation 1:
Would you rather ride on a bus that is so crowded you’re basically spooning with the people in front of/behind you and then have a woman start puking (but you know where you’re  going, still, and can get to your destination
     OR         
Catch a xe om (motorbike taxi) and start riding, only to find out that the driver doesn’t actually know where he’s going (you have your final address, but don’t know how to get there either), doesn’t speak English (and you don’t speak Vietnamese), and is shouting in Vietnamese the entire ride?
 

Situation 2: Would you rather be in the afore-mentioned xe om situation,
     OR
Be lost on a bicycle with no map (and no knowledge of Vietnamese)?

Situation 3: Would you rather take an overnight train with 5 other Vietnamese sharing the same cabin who decide to talk and sing loudly all night,
     OR
Take an overnight bus and be sitting next to a couple who’s making out for most of the trip?

 

Situation 4: Would you rather listen to Vietnamese music 24/7 for a week,
     OR
Boy bands from the 90’s?

Situation 5: Would you rather eat pig ear,
     OR
Eat dog meat?

Situation 6: Would you rather use a western toilet with a slightly shaded/blurred glass window in the door (common, even in restaurants),
     OR
Use a squatty-potty?

The choice is yours. So. What’ll it be?

Signs of Singapore

Sarah and I were recently able to travel to Singapore over the Lunar New Year break in our teaching schedule. It's the largest holiday celebration here (think like Christmas in the US), so universities had 2 weeks vacation from class. While there, we enjoyed the warmth (80-90 degrees and sunny), the efficient infrastructure, the greeness & clean(er) air, the delicious food, and being able to communicate in English.

We also got a few laughs out of some of the signs we saw.

#1: Snow Route - This one made me feel at home. Granted, it was placed in a New York set at

                                   Universal Studios. But still. 

 #2: Unecessary Noise Prohibited - Hanoi definitely needs one of these signs. Actually, many.

 #3: Beware of Peacocks - Gosh darn birds and their "overt courting behavior." 

#4: Beware of Monkeys - Man, Singapore and its animals!

#5: Press for Little Green Man - So our first question was, where's the button for a tall, dark, and handsome? 

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.

Sombreros in Vietnam?

Sarah and I visited West Lake (an area of Hanoi named for, well, its lake) for the first time last weekend. As we walked along the lake's edge, we saw a number of men fishing. Some wore traditional Vietnamese hats, others wore motorbike helmets, but one man was proudly sporting a large, neon sombrero. We couldn’t help but laugh at this unique and unexpected mixing of cultures.