Autumn: it's like your pinky toe, not so meaningful until it's gone

Is it just me, or is the world suddenly and inexplicably head over heels about autumn?  It is definitely worse in Bangkok because of our absence of fall weather, but I feel like even from people stateside, there is an explosion of love for all things fall. I don't get it. Fall has always just meant that winter is coming. Sure, going to the orchard or the cider mill is fun, but it's always colder than you want it to be, and far too often, damp. Growing up there was always one fall afternoon per year when we'd round the corner walking home from school and be able to see our yard and my stomach would just drop. There in the yard, would be my mom, with a rake. And that meant only one thing: we would be spending the next few hours grumpily raking wet soggy leaves onto the tarps and dragging them out to the street. Sadly, once we rounded that corner and could see her, she could also see us. There was no where to run. 

Don't hate me, but I think fall is actually something like your pinky toe- it doesn't mean much to you unless you lose it. I mean, the colors are nice and all, and apple cider is great, but we all lived for many years, decades even, without going stark raving mad about it. For the tropical expats, missing fall makes sense. Like a pinky toe, life seems just slightly unbalanced without it, but I don't know, it's also quite livable. For everybody else, I don't understand the craze. Or perhaps it is my imagination and people have been this excited for fall my whole life and I was too busy dreading winter to notice. Maybe the subtle excitement of the natives is being blown out of proportion in my mind by the over excitement of everyone around me. 

Seriously though, is it just me? Is this whole We Love Fall thing as recent a fad as I think it is? Either way, I'm going to go turn the AC down another degree or two, find a blanket, and see if I can dig up a YouTube episode of Charlie Brown and the Great Pumpkin. I'll come out again when spring comes. 

Broken into beautiful

It's been one of those weeks for me. Those weeks when you are reminded countless times just how broken life is, how broken each of us are. We run around pretending that we are okay, covering our shame, our fear, our emptiness, our pain. We struggle with the ordinary moments, the monotony of daily life as we dredge ourselves up to do it One More Time. We struggle with the crises, the moments that divide lives into 'before' and 'after'. Weeks like this weigh heavily.

Truth is, we're all broken. But you know that, you don't need me to tell you. You know that the person next to you, the one who looks like they have it all together, doesn't. Too often we think we are the only one whose house is a disaster, whose family is struggling, who crumbles under the weight of their job or their relationships or their expectations. But we aren't the only ones. You don't usually even have to peel back many layers to find it. Right under the surface, we carry our silent grief, our hidden guilt, our quiet tears.

As I encountered situation after situation this week that broke my heart, I was reminded of how easy it is, especially in the age of social media, for us to build a façade and hide behind it. I know I do. But I was also reminded that wherever there is brokenness there is also Jesus. Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is this King of glory? The Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. 

In our weakness, He is there. When my family gathers for a fall weekend in Northern Michigan and I sit under the air con in Bangkok, the King of glory may come in. When leaders stumble, the King of glory may come in. When cancer invades and families are left without husbands and fathers, the King of glory may come in. When young people make tragic decisions, the King of glory may come in. When the clock ticks on and hope seems futile, the King of glory may come in. When babies die and a mother's arms are left empty, the King of glory may come in. When families struggle, the King of glory may come in. He can make broken things beautiful. He's the only one that can make broken things beautiful. In fact, he came to make broken into beautiful. 

Whatever you are facing this week dear friends, the King of glory may come in. 

He loves you. 

He is with you. 

He is for you. And he is mighty in battle. 

Run Clare, Run!

I am not a runner. In middle school a friend talked me into joining the track team to increase my fitness for skating, and I did the long jump event. On vacations up north in high school I'd try to go running with my friends and turn back early. In college my friends and I made bucket lists, years before bucket lists were a thing. I put "run a 5K" on my list right alongside things like climb a mountain and meet Michelle Kwan. That's about how realistic I thought it was. 

In early 2006 I decided I wasn't getting any younger and my knees weren't getting any better- it was now or never for the 5K so I used a couch to 5K program and ran in the Dexter-Ann Arbor Run. A year later I ran again, and cut 3 minutes off my time. Then, I moved to Argentina and did a small bit of jogging from time to time, but not much. Everywhere I go I seem to find myself in the midst of runners- Katie and Cora in Ann Arbor, Rebecca, Donna, and Joanna in Argentina, then a whole lot of people here. About this time last year my friends convinced me that I should run a December 10K with them. I was doubtful that it was physically possible, but I trained for it  and dragged myself across the finish line (which by the way, ended up being more like 11.7K). I wanted to be sure I got back in the running habit after Mike and Sara's Christmas visit, so I ran a second 10K in a early February. 

This past week I did possibly the stupidest thing I've ever done in my life: I signed up for a half marathon at Angkor Wat in December. I just may come home in a body bag. I know I've felt that way about shorter distances before, but this time I really do have significant doubts. To make matters worse, my training program is supposed to start Monday, but I've had some major pinched nerves in my neck and the past week and unable to do anything much at all. Hopefully that will get sorted out soon so I can start getting some miles in. I still don't really like running or consider myself a runner but somehow I thought this would be a good idea. Wish me luck, I'm going to need it! 

Clare vs. The ATM card: losing the battle, and the war

Those of you who have been following my blog from the beginning may well remember the Great ATM Card Debacles of 2011. In my first semester here I lost my ATM card. Twice. To be fair, one time it wasn't lost, but rather eaten by the machine when I could not remember the PIN. I've had an ATM card (and sometimes in more than one country) since the late 90's and I'd never lost one before I came here. In a cash based society, losing your ATM card is fatal. It took me several tries to get it all sorted when I did it the first few times, and the lady at the bank branch definitely scolded me the second time, seeing as it was only a month or so later. 

It's been nearly two years since I lost my card. I was feeling so proud of myself. 22 months, and luck ran out. Pride cometh before the fall. 

The root of the problem is that the very last thing the ATM does is return your card, so it takes a great deal of concentration to not walk away without it. The first time I lost it, I had been talking to a friend while getting cash. Never again have I talked and used the ATM at the same time. This past Friday after school, I need a massage. I'd been in moderate to severe pain all day due to muscle tension (too much tension to feel the pinched nerve underneath it) and ended the day with a stressful meeting that made me want to pull my hair out. Or someone else's. I needed cash for the massage so I stopped at the ATM in that frazzled state. Mistake. 

Saturday morning I got ready to leave for a friend's house and discovered the card was gone. Checked for card activity: none. Called to cancel the card. I'm a pro at this now. In theory it's actually quite easy to get a new card, except you need your passport, and our school keeps ours, so mine wasn't accessible until today. Friends loaned me cash for the weekend and I was not stressing out. At least, not too much. 

There are two types of bank branch- main branches and branches inside malls. The main branches are open from 8:00-3:30. Seriously, who set banking hours? So I go to the mall branches. Today after school my passport and I were off to the bank. I wasn't in a rush so I took the bus, walking in the heat to the bus stop, riding on a bus with no AC, then walking to the bank. I waited in line for an bit and then signed the million forms for a new card. Paperwork set. And then she got out the new card. It has a special chip in it, she told me. New security feature. Cannot be used at any other bank besides Bangkok Bank. Uh-oh. I use mine on the islands, at other banks when the BKK ATM at my apartment runs out of cash, and perhaps most importantly, in foreign countries. No can do lady. Except they don't have regular cards at the mall branch. I was unclear on whether this was just because they were out or because they don't issue them. Cannot madam, cannot, was about all I got. She told me I had to go to a main branch if I wanted a regular card. Tomorrow. Between 8-3:30. 

If I rush right after school, and probably take a taxi instead of a bus, and cancel the students coming in for help, then I can make it. But I was already there today, hot, sweaty, and tired. With a flight I need to book online ASAP. And a race I need to register for as well. I know it sounds trivial, but I wanted to cry. I kinda wanted to punch her in the face too, even though it really wasn't her fault. 

I was reminded a few weeks ago that these frustrations are not limited to Thailand. It's just as bad trying to get things done in Argentina, or with most US government agencies (Secretary of State or DMV anyone?). It's 100 times worse in Brazil, or so says my friend who lives and blogs from there (incidentally her stories confirm to me that I will never live in Brazil). But I guess the thing is, when it happens in the US I can at least communicate clearly, and maybe even tell them how ridiculous I think it is. 

So tomorrow I will make attempt number two. And maybe, just maybe, I will emerge with a card that will allow me to get some baht. I also plan to hide some cash in my house for the next time this happens. I hide dollars for if/when disaster strikes and I need tradable currency on hand (perhaps I've lived in Argentina too long) and now I think I'll add baht to the collection. Not for disasters so much as for my own stupidity. 

A city of contrasts

There are days and times when this city chews you up and spits you out. Like when you have to go to four stores to find plain vanilla ice cream, or you can't find a taxi driver to take you to your very nearby destination. Or when you find a driver who will, and he spends the trip asking and moaning at you about why beautiful American women don't like Thai men, then asks you repeatedly if you'd like to try one. Some days you just pretend you don't understand Thai :). Some days the humidity beats you down or Bangkok Belly lands you on the tile floor of your bathroom. 

But not every day. Some days, you get to run in a beautifully maintained public park on a Saturday morning, and then visit the bustling market nearby for a week's worth of fruit and veggies, and fresh flowers. Some days the neighborhood motorcycle taxi drivers don't even have to ask where you're going, becasue they already know. Some days, a plant vendor sets up shop right in front of your apartment building and speaks English and sells bags of potting soil. Organic potting soil. So you buy three bags, and a new plant, since it's been a few months since you've been able to get soil to plant a new acquisition. Some days the sky outside your window lights up in hues of orange and purple, or a gray summer storm crawls slowly across it, rumbling under its breath. 

And some days, you get a whole bunch of both. 

All You Need is Love

I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about living a gospel in Thailand that teaches grace and love to a culture whose majority religion is so deeply rooted in works- in earning ones salvation. And then this morning I read Ephesians 3, and if I could sum up verses 14 to 19 it would say something like

If only you knew! If only you grasped! If only you understood- 

   The depths of God's love for you, and 

   The strength of his power within you.

Truth is, I don't think we have a clue. If we did, how different the world would be. How differently I'd respond to students or stress or inefficiency or even myself if I responded out of a place of love instead of a place of fear or insecurity. 

Have you ever watched a child who truly knows that they are safe and loved in their parents presence? Such freedom and trust!  I was at my friend's house the other day and her nearly-two-year-olds were playing a game jumping off the couch into their Daddy's arms. They leapt off the edge with complete abandon. (Never mind the moment when one didn't notice Daddy was already catching the other and she just walked right off the edge with a plop on the floor, stunned but no worse for the wear). 

I want to be more like them in my spiritual life.  I want to be rooted and established in that love. I want to be filled with the love that surpasses understanding. I want to know that He who does immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine is on my side. I want to fully get it, grasp it, know it. And then I want to live it in a world around me that still stumbles through the darkness of works, that they too may know the freedom and joy that is found only in grace. I want them to know the Beatles were right. All you need is Love. 

First Day of School

No matter what job you have, there are always days when you Just. Can't. Take. It. There are always times when you want to quit. So I am writing this post for those days- which I know will come- as a reminder for myself: I really do actually love my job. I enjoy what I do. I'm good at what I do. And not everyone has that privilege. 

It was a good first day of school. I have tremendous colleagues. Seriously. None of them are allowed to leave or transfer to other departments because our 6th grade team rocks. And we had multiple awesome people jump in and help us this morning as we taught roughly 100 eleven year olds how to open a combination lock. In humid 90 degree weather. In outdoor hallways. That's a lot of little sweaty hands. 

And I have amazing students. I had one 6th grader assigned to helping some new students navigate their first week at ICS. She wrote to me today about how she might be talking in class a little bit but that I should not be concerned- she would be helping her "ambassidees" (she being their 'ambassador'). And sure enough, every time I saw them today they were a little trio. Others treaded through their first day in the midst of last minute schedule changes or broken lockers or extra long lunch lines. My 7th grade Spanish class followed along and got the gist of things and even laughed and smiled as I started off their introductory level class with some language immersion. One of my former students, now an 11th grader (have I really been here that long?) spent part of her summer watering my plants. She stopped by today to give me my keys and chat for a bit- and I love it when my old "kids" stop in. 

I love how new school years give all of us a fresh start. Even when I get behavior reports or academic scores for a kid, if I haven't met them they still get to make a first impression. But it goes the other way too. I get a fresh start with the students I haven't taught before. I get to find better ways to relate to them, better strategies for teaching them, better ideas for supporting them. 

So first day of school, thank you. Thanks for reminding me of why I do this and what I love about it. But also, you are a bit exhausting, so thank for being over too. 

Make new friends, but keep the old

Coming back this year means not only readjusting to life in Thailand and being back at work, but also life without some key individuals. Those friendships, though certainly not over, do move to a new phase and I do have to keep moving here with building on other friendships and making new ones. Without any family around, friends play a much bigger role and many of them even become like family. All the coming and going is part of life abroad, but it's not a part that I have to like. 

And so I walk into this new school year with open arms, ready to push and stretch and try new things. This morning I ran to the park/market with a group of women from our community who run there on Saturday mornings. It's a group I've been aware of since I arrived, but the first time I've stepped out and joined them. I knew all of the ladies there today, but they are not people I see often or really know well and it was a stretch for me to be willing to run with other people (I don't go real fast). So I am proud of that. And I'm excited for things I have in the next few weeks that will help me step out a bit more and make connections with people. But I am also a bit heavy hearted and you know, that's okay. It's okay to miss my friends and colleagues, to step back from time to time and say yeah, this sucks. For the most part, this week has been too busy to dwell in it too much, but it has still been strange and hard to not have them around. I am very thankful for those who are still here, especially my closest friends who are missing the same people I am. In such a transient community, I am grateful for every bit of continuity I can hold onto. 

I also walk into this school year with an ever growing list of people to keep up with long distance. While free texting apps certainly make that easier, there's still a limit to how much time you have for friends and family who are far away. So we juggle it as best we can and treasure the times we do get to talk or Skype or visit. I am so blessed to have friends spread across the globe and thankful for the efforts they make to maintain our friendship over the miles and years. 

Bulletin board

Why yes, yes I did make this bulletin board today! School year prep is in full swing including one of my least favorite teacher tasks: bulletin boards. I don't really do creative, but I can print out a few words and use the die cut machine and imitate a Pinterest idea. 

Michigan Adventures

Following my time in New York, I've spent the last two weeks bouncing around Michigan, some time in Detroit/Ann Arbor, then Grand Rapids, some time Up North, and now back to Detroit/Ann Arbor. I've had a great time and have had good quality time with so many people. It's hard to believe that my summer is quickly coming to an end. I fly back on Thursday and start work next Monday! 

Clockwise from top left: an evening on Portage Lake, sisters overlooking the 18th green of Arcadia Bluffs, dune climb (I did not make it to the top), Mike putting on the 18th, and Lake Michigan view at the end of my run. 

Clockwise from top left: lunch at the new brewery in Frankfort, the Portage Lake channel into the big lake, view from wine tasting in Leelenau, boat ride on Lake Michigan, Thai spicy steak salad made by Mike as part of our Thai diner. 

Our trip Up North was in honor of my mom's birthday, which isn't until August but this is when we could all be there. We had a great birthday dinner on the last night and got a family picture that even has me in it :) 

Last night I had a chance to see most of the Collins women one last time for a fun evening with lots of laughter. 

New York weekend

Like many people, I love New York. Luckily, my brother moved there 3 years ago :) This past weekend I got to go visit and spend a few days with him and enjoy one of my favorite cities. One thing I really enjoy when I travel is exploring neighborhoods, so we spent some time walking and biking around Queens and Brooklyn. We took the dog for a walk, played catch in the park, visited Matt's plot at the community garden, and ate at some favorite local spots. I got to eat Mexican, Dominican, Korean, Argentine, and Italian food, as well as fish and veggies on the grill. On Sunday afternoon we biked across Brooklyn to the New York Transport Musuem and Prospect Park. It was also really fun to be there during the World Cup and watch a few of those games. The highlight for me of any trip to New York is seeing a play, so on Saturday night we went to see The Cripple of Inishmaan. It was a fantastic play (hilarious dialogue but also deep and thoughtful) and great evening. Of course, the best part of the weekend was getting to do all these things with my brother :) 

Hellos and Good-byes

These 12 days in Argentina have flown by, while at the same time I feel like I've been here forever. It's been really good to be here and it's always a bit sad to leave, but at the same time I leave with a sense of peace and gratitude for this time and ready for the next phase of my summer. Last night, Ecclesiastes 3:1 came to mind: For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven. I feel like this is the theme of my summer this year- an ending to seasons in Bangkok as friends leave, connecting with the season I spent in Buenos Aires, preparing for the seasons ahead in Bangkok and in life. There is a time and place for each one and as even good seasons pass, we have to let them go. I am grateful for friendships that extend beyond place and time zone, and for technology that keeps us close despite the distance. 

Feeling at home

I am enjoying these days in Buenos Aires so much, especially now that my brain has adjusted and things just feel familiar and comfortable. I am watching the World Cup with friends, going to favorite restaurants and cafés, taking walks and talking, and just being around town and feeling at home. The weather, though maybe a bit cool when the sun is down, has been pretty cooperative and I have enjoyed being outside and not sweating. It's awesome to be able to walk places- both in terms of a neighborhood that is walkable and a climate that allows me to walk without freezing or melting.

One of my friends from Bangkok is returning to the US this month after 5 years in Thailand and recently wrote this blog post about how leaving is so much more than people and places, but is the end of an era of life.  I've been thinking about that this week as I've been here, and that mixed in with missing so many people and places here, I also miss who I am when I am among them. I miss the parts of my personality that come out when I speak Spanish or walk these cobbled street or spend time with these friends. That, perhaps, is the hardest part to let go of. And the idea is true no matter where I am, that I miss the parts of me that come out most in the US or Thailand or wherever. It's part, I suppose, of being a third culture adult and learning to adapt to different cultures and communities.  It's a blessing too, to discover these other facets of who we are and to know in very real ways that no matter where we go, God goes with us, that he is the prime constant in all the moving and changing. 

These next few days will be a joy and challenge as I say good bye again to friends here, some of whom are moving this week or in the next year or so, and won't be here if/when I come back. But we say good bye with another set of laughter and memories and days when we were able to just be there. 

Not my best picture, but yes, my best restaurant! 

Seeing my family around the city

I have been blessed, both here in Buenos Aires and now also in Bangkok, to have lots of family visit. One of the joys of this is that I "see" them as I walk around the cities. Yesterday walking around my old neighborhood I passed the empty lot where Matt and I played catch. Today I went to the Japanese Garden, a place I've only been once before: with my Dad. Tomorrow I will have dinner at my favorite restaurant in the city, Las Cholas, which I discovered with Meg (and later took everyone to, since she was the first visitor). When I walked through the feria on Sunday, I remembered shopping there with my mom. In Bangkok, I see my family in so many places, and even though it sometimes makes me a little bit sad, I am also always glad to have shared those places and foods and experiences with them. It so much helps me to connect all my worlds together when they understand my life a little bit and then I can see them in my memories all around town. 

Back to Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires, Argentina. A city, place, people who will always have a place in my heart. As I sat in on the last day of school at BAICA and the staff farewell that followed, I was reminded of everything and everyone here that I love. In some ways it was like ripping my heart out all over again, and I was practically in tears throughout it, but at the same time it was good. I got to see all the ways the school has grown and changed, I was able to reconnect with beloved students, and I was reminded of a part of my life that was so good and healing for me in many ways. It is equal parts hard and wonderful to be here and I am truly blessed and grateful that I can make the trip. And, it's always good for me to continue to process this place and it's role in my life. Four years later there are many things that are different and many that haven't changed at all, making everything feel at once foreign and familiar. I understand most of the Spanish coming at me, but feel very shy to respond- the words don't roll off the tongue anymore, vocab escapes me, and any shot I had at verb tense before is completely gone. But still, in brave moments, I try. The first three days here have been full of hugs and laughter and catching up and adventures. As my brain adjusts to being back I feel more and more at peace with having come, and look forward to the days ahead. 

At school with students 

Horse riding at the estancia 

Parrilla lunch at the estancia. 

Off again!

After five great days in Michigan, I leave in a few hours for a two week stop in Buenos Aires to visit with dear friends and former students. The past few days have been full of family and friends and good food, and luckily a fair amount of sleep too. From family dinners with a backyard bonfire to my Grandpa's birthday party and dinner with friends to being Godmother to a delightful baby girl, it has been a wonderful whirlwind start to my summer. Tomorrow morning, just in time for the start of the World Cup, I will be in winter for the first time in two years. While I will relish the chance to bundle up and drink tea, I am sure there will be plenty of complaining to go with those cooler temps. My goal for this summer as I pinball from place to place constantly? Just be there. Wherever I am, be fully there. 

So happy to be there with these dear friends for Josephine's big day! 

Home on the range: initial impressions in America

You would think after so many years and trips back to the US that these sorts of things wouldn't surprise me anymore, but I still get a good chuckle, every time. 

- It's cold at night. I'm not used to the temperature dropping much overnight or thinking to bring warmer clothes if I will be out in the evening. Last night, I ended up in my dress and cardigan plus my sister-in-law's pants, socks, and jacket. With a cup of tea. I was quite a picture. 

- Meijer. I usually try to avoid big box stores for a few days, but I wound up at Meijer twice within the first day and a half. I was completely overwhelmed by the juice aisle. Not the juice section or shelf or whatever, but an entire massive aisle of juice and juice-like beverages. Crazy. 

- Americans. This country is full of em. Never ceases to amaze me. 

- Green. And not just in the countryside. But green and space and large patches of grass. Everywhere. 

- Running into a friend from high school in the produce section at Meijer. Since I don't come "home" to my hometown, I don't really expect that. It was so out of context that I was blanking out on her name for half the conversation, but definitely even weirder for her- at least I knew that I was in the country! 

- Food. So much of it. So delicious. 

- Being outside. In Bangkok, due to many factors like space, heat, pollution, noise, etc. people rarely have outdoor entertaining spaces, but yesterday I got to spend most of the day enjoying beautiful decks and backyards at my aunt and uncle's house, and then at my brother and sister-in-laws. We even had a bonfire after dinner! 

End of the school year

I don't have a lot of words today; my head is too full of emotions and too low on sleep to put many coherent thoughts together. This week we will wrap up the school year and 18 hours later I will board a plane bound for Tokyo, and then on to Detroit. While I am ready for my alarm to stop ringing at 5am, I am not ready for the departures that the end of this school year brings.  When I come back at the end of July, there will be too many faces missing. These are precious days as we celebrate friendship even in the midst of heartache and rely on our God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. 

End of the year staff banquet with a great group of ladies! 

Ex-pat math

I never expected to need so much math as an expat, but I realized this week that living abroad definitely makes me use my math skills more. Here are a few examples: 

- Butter. All my recipes list butter measurements in cups, sticks, or tablespoons. But the butter comes in 227g chunks. So I convert whatever my measurement is to grams (thanks to the internet) and then make those grams into an estimated fraction out of 227, then eyeball that fraction of the butter block. As you can imagine, this is a highly accurate process...

- Baking size. It's a 9 x 13 pan recipe. My toaster oven only fits an 8 x 8 pan. So I find the area of each, and find the percent/fraction that is my 8 x 8 pan and then try to figure out, which is easier, cut the recipe, or increase it and make two 8 x 8's? I think the answer might be to make one batch but put it in two 8 x 8's and just have it be thin and not bake it so long...

-Temperature. I know a few Celcius benchmarks, but I otherwise think in Fahrenheit. Luckily my devices will convert it, but our textbook is in Fahrenheit which of course my Celcius students don't understand, so they are always asking me how much that is in Celsius...  Also, my toaster oven is only in Celsius and my recipes are all in Fahrenheit, which works out ok because I don't actually set the temp, I just turn it on and off. Really, it's a miracle I can bake anything at all between that and the butter! 

- Currency. Americans in Thailand can divide by 30 like a pro. After a while, you convert less and less in your host country, but you still do it to a degree. And then there's the travel, where you convert both to your home currency and your host currency... 

- Time zones. I make it a point when I set up Skype dates to always set them up in the other person' time zone so I am calculating that in my head as we email to find a time. Luckily either Detroit or Chicago are always an exact 12 from here, then I can go from there to figure out the other. But I still struggle with Buenos Aires and as of July I will need to convert London and California as well... Yikes. 

- Stocking up. I still buy a year's worth of several items every summer in the States, namely PG Tips tea and my hair products. So it's always a calculation of how many days, how long a box of tea or bottle of mousse would last, and then a generous rounding up to make sure I don't run out. I thought I had it down, but I think I miscalculated somewhere because I am definitely rationing both right now to get to June 6th! 

A nearly fatal trip to IKEA

Sometimes, when I have what we like to call an "adventure" I stop and think, well, at least it will make a nice blog post. So this post is brought to you by Don't Cry, It Will Make A Nice Blog, and also by Polar Vortex Payback. 

First let me just tell you, it was the middle of a hot sunny humid day. A 97F and humid kind of day. A 99 days out of 100 I prefer heat over cold but my body still isn't built for the tropics kind of day. Keep that in mind. 

The day started out just fine. No, it started out better than fine. It started out with a solid 10 hours of sleep, more than I have had in ages, and a day off work for a Thai Buddhist holiday. It started out with an emotional and energy reserve tank that was full. And there I made my first fatal mistake: I used that energy and went to Ikea. 

I was in need of a chair, a small chair. I had already preselected it online because I know that Ikea is not the place for decision making. It paralyzes even the best deciders among us. I selected the smallest chair Ikea makes because I have a small space in which to put it, and off I went, believing Ikea's flat box mantra and forgetting that Bangkok taxi drivers are not, shall we say, the best problem solvers. 

I confirmed the correct chair in the showroom and wrote down where to find it in the warehouse section before navigating the shortcuts through the millions of other things I would be tempted to buy on my way to the warehouse. I grabbed a trolley and made it to the correct aisle without any additional items, and that's about where the success ended.  

Despite weighing only 23 kilos, the box with the chair was wedged in so well on the shelf that I couldn't get it out. It was also not flat. I considered giving up and going home. I considered that it was stupid of me to attempt to buy furniture at Ikea by myself. It occurred to me that it would be much easier if there were a husband (or at least a brother!) around to go fetch it for me. And there I made my second fatal mistake: I kept going. I tracked down a worker to wrangle the box off the shelf and onto my trolley. Yay. 

I wheeled my now paid for box out to the curb at the taxi stand. There is supposed to be a taxi stand man there to call a taxi, but he was MIA. So for a few minutes, I just stood with my box in the heat and waited. Then the taxi stand man showed up and told me that my box was not going to fit in a taxi. I told him to try anyway. I figured that either it would cram into the back seat okay or we could stick it in the trunk and bungee cord the back down. You know, problem solve. Several taxi drivers refused to even try and as time passed and my frustration grew, the sweat began to pour down my body. Not like little beads on your lip, but like Niagra Falls. I began feeling rather stupid for attempting this whole thing, which only made me sweat further. Finally, a driver agreed to try, but the attempt is half hearted and he can't be bothered and pulled away. This is roughly when I start feeling a bit light headed and I realize fatal mistake number three: I hadn't had any water yet that morning. 

So there I stand, soaked through, on the curb with my big ole box that I already paid for, sweat running down, feeling like an idiot and wondering if I am going to have to succumb to the $22 delivery fee for my $100 chair so that I don't succumb to the heat and really really wanting to sit down and cry. But not there on the curb. Inside. In the air con. That's always roughly when I realized that that's part of why I keep this blog- so when I do stupid stuff like this, I can at least make a nice blog post out of it. 

A minute or two later someone I know walked by. He had dropped his family off at the mall and gone to park the car, a small SUV, before joining them inside. His family lives about two blocks from me, one block the other side of the school, and his daughter had been in my class last year. He also happens to be my pastor. He graciously offered to bring the car up and load my box into the back. When his family returned home a few hours later, they stopped by and dropped it off at my apartment. I was saved. 

In the end, I bought the one Ikea chair that doesn't really require assembly, which is why the box wasn't flat and wouldn't fit in the taxis. I made it home to shower and change and rest in the air con, super grateful for this family and the help they gave me. They lived in Bangkok for many years without a car, so they assured me they get it. Somedays, the overseas life is glamorous and beautiful, and other days it's sweaty and humbling and hard. Most days, I'd say, it's somewhere in between. 

An expat staycation

One of the great advantages of being an expat is the travel. Singapore for the weekend. Tropical beach just because. China for spring break. Michigan in the summer. But that can have a downside too, namely that whenever you have time off, you are on the road so you never get to just "be" at home. This past week I spent my spring break at home. And it was glorious. Lazy mornings in my own bed. Dinners with friends. A baseball game or two. A haircut. A pedicure. A massage. Afternoons spent with friends who will be leaving in June. A book no longer waiting to be read.  A seafood lunch with a non-teacher friend I just don't see often enough. And at the end of the week my body is rested, my house is clean, and my laundry is done. I do love to travel, and can't wait for my adventures in June and July, but it does feel pretty nice to have just lived life at home for the past week and not need to unpack and resettle and recover from vacation. 

Maundy: A new commandment

Maybe this sounds a bit weird, but my favorite church service of the year at my home church, Knox, is Maundy Thursday. I love their service of shadows. I like the way it's dark and hushed and solemn as we prepare for Gethsemane. I like how Communion is done in family, in community. I like its sense of reverence and reflection. I miss it.  At one point this winter I was actually considering flying home for spring break this year,  and having it coincide with Holy Week and a Maundy Thursday trip to Knox had crossed my mind. 

There is a church here that I like to visit for Maundy Thursday, a small Anglican church downtown that flat out wins the prize for best church building in the city. It's old, small, traditional, beautiful. The liturgy is not what I am used to, but I don't mind, and in some ways, I enjoy that every word is crafted, considered, and heavy with meaning. It fits the day somehow. Last night, I particularly enjoyed what the Vicar (I do believe that is the first time in you life I have ever used that word in context, not such an American one!) had to say- intellectual, biblical, Christ centered, and thought provoking. 

Maundy, apparently, means command or mandate, as in Jesus' words to the disciples, a new command I give to you, that you love one another. He spoke about washing feet, about service and love, about abiding, about being willing to just receive it all- how we are always trying to do things for Jesus instead of receive Jesus. He spoke about allowing Jesus to care for us so that we can care for others. In many ways, not anything earth shattering. But it all frames differently for me under the title Commandment Thursday and I'm left wondering a bit how I could get this far without knowing what it meant. There are a lot of funny words floating around churches, I guess I just chalked it up to being a funny church word and moved on. 

Being challenged to both let Jesus wash our feet and then to go and do likewise looks a lot different as a mandate. We all know the line in Jesus' reply, that if Peter doesn't allow his feet to be washed than he has no part with Jesus, but how often do I see it as a command to receive? To receive in prayer, receive in the Word, receive in the vulnerability that says to someone else, I need help. I'm a picky person, and nothing makes me pickier than needing help. In Jesus we have a High Priest who helps us in our weakness, and often he helps us by the people he puts in our lives, if we are willing to receive. 

It's easy to receive, to abide in him, in church. It gets a bit harder when we walk out the door. Or before we walk in it. My week off had not been going to plan. Instead of spending my time resting and socializing and rejuvenating, I'd been just trying to keep it together. In the hours immediately preceding church I was busy beating myself up for not being able to find the restaurant my friend and I were going to eat at before church, leading to a hot sticky walk down streets with which I was not very familiar and then a rushed dinner at a different restaurant and last hurried scramble to get to church on time. Anything that goes wrong in Bangkok in April is made worse by the oppressive heat and humidity that envelop the city, sticking to your pores like glutinous rice in a toddler's hair. It's a small price to pay for missing the Polar Vortex, I know, but it's obnoxious all the same. 

So it was nice to walk under the arches of the airconditioned and stained glass church at 7:02, already a few lines into the service, and hear the words Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name, and shortly after be commanded by Jesus to receive, to abide, to serve, and to love. As we reflected on Jesus' last hours with his disciples, it was good to be reminded that the work was already done, his body broken and his blood spilled, and to be directed to simply receive it, receive him, and then go and love as he loves us. 

And now you prepare a table for us offering us not just bread and wine but your very self, so that we may be filled, forgiven, healed, blessed and made new again. 

Elephants in Chiang Mai

Last weekend Robin and I had the chance to go to Chiang Mai and spent a day at Elephant Nature Park. There are many 'elephant options' there but this one seemed like the best fit for her. The park is an elephant rescue center that has morphed into more of an animal rescue center. After the floods in 2011 they rescued dogs trapped in the floods and now have over 400 of them living in the park. They don't let you ride the elephants, but you are able to feed them, bathe them, and spend a fair amount of time just watching them. You also get to be pretty up close and personal with them at times, which leads to some great pictures. We spend the rest of our time in CM eating amazing food, exploring markets, visiting a temple, lounging by the pool, and getting a massage. Great weekend! 

Feeding time 

I was nervous that bathing time would be full on swimming with them, but we just splashed huge with water, which was fun. And then they promptly went and rolled in the mud again. I guess it keeps them cool and acts like sunscreen. 

Baby elephant in her way to roll in the mud.

Robin really enjoyed the many dogs at the park! 

To nuke, or not to nuke

I don't own a microwave. I've never actually owned one, though most places I have lived have had one. Some people think I'm a little bit nuts for not having one, my own mother for example, but I kind of like it. I spent about half my years in Argentina living with a friend who had a no microwave policy and from watching her, I learned how to make and reheat anything you wanted without one. So when I moved here and had to outfit an entire kitchen from scratch I knew that a microwave was a want, not a need. 

I don't have anything against the microwave and honestly, most of the time I forget that I don't have one. I've grown accustomed to stove top popcorn and reheating food in the toaster oven or on the stove. I do sometimes think that maybe blasting our food with radiation is not the best plan in the world and can get a little puffed up about the whole thing, about not relying on such a modern contraption, but I wouldn't say I'm anti microwave. I certainly eat plenty nuked food at other people's houses. 

But now I'm thinking of buying one. Friends who are moving to the States are selling their Magic Machine, an oven/microwave combo that just might revolutionize my life. Or at least my corn muffins. It can literally bake or nuke, depending on the setting. If I recall, it might even grill too. I've seen entire Thanksgiving dinners created in one of these things. Pie, turkey, you name it. Problem is, it doesn't toast, which means it can't replace the toaster oven and thus I end up with another gadget in my rather small and crowded kitchen. The only place for it, in fact, is on top of the fridge. A bit unsightly. And then there's my pride, joining the throngs across the globe with the ability to reheat a cup of tea in 30 seconds. To nuke or not to nuke, that my friends, is the question.  

I cursed at the corn muffins

I'm making corn muffins for dinner. Jiffy corn muffins, to be exact. You don't want to know what I paid for a box of Jiffy, but that's okay because I know I am getting the real deal. I'm making the muffins to go with the Chef's salads we are having, which I selected because Hot.Season.Is.Here. My weather app says it "feels like 101*F". I don't believe them. It's more like 105. But anyway, it's that time of year where the AC takes forever to cool the house down (and can't really keep up even then) even with a fan going. 

The house was hot because I had gone grocery shopping- a task complicated by the taxis and the fact that you can't make a right turn so you have to make a couple lefts and sit in traffic and take the long route to the mall. Because everyone knows the best place for a grocery store is in the mall. But I digress, the house was already warm, and I needed to make my Jiffy corn muffins. And that means I needed the toaster oven, which makes the AC virtually undetectable in the kitchen area. 

So I was already a little bit warm when I had to check the muffins. The toaster only fits one 6 unit muffin tray at a time, and it was having a hard time getting a grip on the tray without gouging out a muffin. Getting things out of my toaster oven is tricky because the heating elements are so close to the food. One small slip and the bit of my hand that is sticking out of the oven mitt is sizzling against the hot rod at the top of the oven. The tray wasn't coming out, so in my infinite wisdom I thought I'd just take the rack out, with the tray in it. It was a good plan until the tray slid off the rack, upside down, in there back of the toaster. This is roughly when I said some unkind words to the corn muffins. And the toaster oven. 

There the muffins lay, under the tray, and directly on top of there lower heating element. Smoke immediately starts pouring out as my precious over priced Jiffy muffins burn and I start feebly attempting to retrieve the whole lot from the hot back of the toaster. It's also at this moment that I start counting, or maybe recounting, the price of life abroad. 50*F and a real oven were sounding quite appealing. I would be remiss, however, if I did not mention that part of the reason I am tired and was out grocery shopping and craving vegetables in the first place was that I just got back from a three night stay at my favorite tropical beach with some friends. 

Many times, I feel pretty spoiled that we get to do things like that, and in some ways, we are incredibly spoiled and blessed. But the beach also helps put the toaster oven in perspective. It helps balance the higher daily levels of stress from the systems we fail to understand (or use properly), the people we miss and foods (like cheese or cereal) that we have to ration. It counteracts the weddings and births and funerals we can't make it to. It balances out the time we spend physically paying all our bills in person and in cash, or the time spent on the logistics of simple tasks like trips to the pharmacy. It doesn't make the overseas life better or worse, it just makes it different, perhaps with better pros and tougher cons. It means that while the jade water and limestone cliffs are stunning, the corn muffins are also burned, and in both cases, life moves on. 

Dwell in the shelter of the Most High: On tantrums and trust

It's been quite a while since I have blogged on here, or at least blogged in the real sense instead of just updates and travel bits.  The last six months have had lots of ups and downs and lots of learning, much of it not over.  Sometimes I feel like my inner life is going through so much that I can't make sense of it to write about it.  How do I make sense of lives all around me seeming to shout, this is not how it is supposed to be? So often I am like a small child, petulant in my temper tantrums, demanding my way and demanding it now.  I always feel like in order to blog I need some great answer to the problems, some great revelation that is going to help all of us draw closer to God.

But the truth is, the last 6 months have not brought any startling revelations.  They've brought tears and moments I am not proud of, plenty of times where essentially I have sprawled on the floor like a writhing screaming toddler, mad at God and wondering how in the world it would all ever end.  Wondering if we will ever see an end to the sting of death, the ravages of sin, the loneliness of a broken world. 

In the midst of it, I don't really want people to help me cope, not even God.  I want Him/them to make the situation right, to make the problem go away, or at the very least, to allow me to quit.  This may come as a bit of a surprise, but I seem to have a knack for quitting.  They say that when the going gets tough, the tough get going, and Clare takes a nap. Perseverance is not my strong suit.  If perseverance produces character, I'll pass on the character bit thanks.

This morning I read Psalm 91, which opens with, "Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty" and goes on to say some pretty awesome things.  It's one of my favorite psalms.  But all day I've been stuck on the first verse.  And particularly on the second word: dwell.  I had coffee this week with a friend who is preparing for the transition back to life in the US and we talked about this word, dwell.  For me, dwelling in Thailand means buying things that won't fit in a suitcase, or plants that give a sense of permanence.  But dwelling in the shelter of the Most High? 

The devotional I read right after the psalm was about trust.  About how we only sort of want to trust God-we trust him for some things (like today or eternity) but not others (like tomorrow and practical things).  I think to an extent we know that trusting him does not mean that we're going to win the tantrum and get what we want.  Trusting him doesn't buy us control over our lives.  But I think dwelling in his shelter and trusting him can look awfully similar.  It's not any great revelation, and I'm not even exactly sure how it looks played out in everyday lives, but it does help me know that that abiding and rest are possible. 

I still want my way, of course, but it helps put into perspective an idea that I read about a few months ago, living for God's Big Kingdom and its purposes instead of our own little kingdoms with all the little things we're trying to control.  Trusting God's purposes for our own lives, but also for the lives of those we love.  So I try to release the fist, so tightly closed around the things I want to control, and I realize just how tired that fist is.  It's exhausting, and so much easier to let go.  I don't think I'm going to be very good at it, but I need to try. I need to work on figuring out how to trust, how to dwell in the shelter of the Most High, because I do know this: there is no safer place for me to be.

A smoke day!

In Michigan we have snow days, ice days, and the occasional day called for extreme cold. I have all that up moving to Bangkok, and yet I find myself in my pajamas at 10am on a random Tuesday morning.  My first year at ICS we missed a few weeks of school due to massive flooding across Thailand. In January we missed a day when massive political protests threatened to cause massive traffic disruptions. Today we are off because a garbage dump nearby is on fire. Yesterday our campus filled with stinky smoke and they are still working to control the blaze. So far this morning the skies are clear and sunny, but there's also a strong breeze and if that dies out, I have a feeling we would be back in smokey land. 

It was good timing for me. I've been under the weather and not sleeping well for a few days and have been in the edge of a sick day for several days now. This saves me the trouble of lesson plans, even if it means rearranging lots of things in the next month (the downside of block schedule is that when you miss a day it changes what day of the week your classes meet and with standardized tests and spring break on the horizon it will mean making some changes to my plans). 

In the meantime, I'm going to make another cup of tea and tackle a paper I need to write for my online grad class and enjoy sitting around the house a while longer. Here's to "snow" days in Bangkok! 

Koh Samet

Koh Samet is a small island that is the closet island destination to Bangkok (three are mainland beaches closer, but you get a different feel on an island), yet I still had never been there before last weekend. Robin and I left right after school on Friday on a journey that was several hours longer than it should have been- a trip we would both love to forget. Once we arrived though, we had a wonderful time. 

We spent Saturday reading and lounging by the beach, swimming in the Gulf of Thailand, exploring nearby beaches, and drinking smoothies and fruit shakes. In the evening we ate seafood on the beach, watched a couple of fire shows, and walked along the shore eating roti, one of my favorite desserts. Sunday morning we had a few more hours to lounge and swim before we headed back to Bangkok in the early afternoon for a much more pleasant trip home. It was a quick weekend, but still a lot of fun. I love seeing Michiganders reactions to the tropical beach- we are always amazed by the water temperature and annoyed at the salt (and slightly frightened of creatures). 

There are often swings hung along the shore here, great fun and cute pictures! 

My view all morning. I could get used to that! 

View at lunch

In the afternoon we explored this beach next to the one we were staying on. I'm always unsurprised how much the tide changes throughout the day! 

Homesickness

Homesickness is a funny beast that comes and goes as it pleases- often coming during the most stressful weeks at work and going whenever a polar vortex hits Michigan.  The past week has been incredibly stressful work wise, and like everyone when things get stressful, it makes me want to escape. Except I don't want to escape to a tropical beach. I want to escape to my sister's large plush L shaped couch in Grand Rapids, with her across from me, a blanket on my lap, and a cup of tea in my hand. No, make that a glass of Malbec.  

I always assumed that homesickness would get better over time, but I was dead wrong. Every year it comes more often, stays longer, and hits deeper. Every year the things that bother you about a job or a host country or a situation get a little harder to swallow. I know that this week and these moments will pass, that things will get better and the crabbiness will subside, that I will remember that 14 degrees Fahrenheit is actually really cold and stop craving Michigan so badly, but until then it just hurts. 

Homesickness is an illness for which there is no cure. No bowl of ice cream or glass of wine or Skype chat will ever allow my heart to be in all the places it wants to be at once. No airplane can actually take my heart home. So I turn the AC a few degrees lower, pull the blanket up under my chin, and go to bed early. Because some days are just like that. Even in "Australia". 

Adjustments: there's a teenager in the house!

Life with an 18 year old is interesting- some things I knew to expect, others I couldn't see coming. One of the biggest differences between having Robin here verses every other roommate I've had in my life is that for the first time, I am responsible for feeding another human being on a daily basis. You mothers out there will get a good chuckle out of this, but this whole meal planning and grocery shopping thing is kind of crazy. Especially for a girl who has basically lived off a minimart for over two years and grocery shopped from time to time, but certainly not regularly. But somehow, when you're feeding two people, that whole cooking thing and buying food seem a bit more important. 

So here I am, grocery shopping weekly and throwing around words like meal planning. Don't get me wrong, we still eat food from the shops on my street and go out some, but even cooking a few meals a week requires some coordination and planning, especially when you're feeding a pescatarin. 

So I would say food and feeding are adjustment number one. 

Adjustment number two is more subtle, but probably more profound. Awareness. I am suddenly aware at all times of another persons movements, especially the first few days of volunteering at ICS. It's kind if a strange feeling for someone who never really had to think about anyone else before. At first, the awareness was exhausting and overwhelming, but I've gotten used to it and she's more independent around the school now, so it's definitely less intense. But still kind of there- which is a good thing when you're keeping an eye on someone else's child in a foreign country! 

Adjustment number three is that I feel and sound a lot like my mother. There are things she will do and I see myself in her, doing or saying those things to my mom. Not big or negative things, just how an 18 year old does the dishes or talks about their day or walks down a sidewalk. I look at her and smile and understand my mom just a little bit better. 

On skate grabbing in spins

Can I just add that I'd like to see them change the rules for levels in the layback spin? Can we not also give a level four for a perfect classic layback held for a bazillion revolutions (think Alissa Czisny or Caolina Kostner) with a little twist added at the end for extra interest? I for one am a little tired of all the skate grabbing. Very few skaters make the Biellmann spin look attractive. Most look awkward. And those that do it best are often not surprisingly the youngest skaters, increasingly pushing the sport into a girls competition instead of a ladies competition. 

And, as my very astute brother pointed out to me this week while watching- can we not do something to bring back the spiral? 

Olympic Skating Wrap Up

Some things never change. It's 2014 and the skating world is abuzz with judging controversy sending words like "Eastern Bloc" and "Salt Lake City scandal" flying around our ears as we debate the oldest question in our sport: the athlete or the artist, who gets the edge? I don't think many would argue that Adelina's program had more difficulty or that Yuna is a superior skater and artist. The question is, by how much in each direction? And who gets the tie? 

For me, the overwhelming emotion at the end of the event was sadness, despite my delight for so many beautiful skates from Mao Asada, Ashley Wagner, Gracie Gold, and Carolina 

Kostner, not to mention Queen Yuna and the gold medalist, Adelina Sotnikova. It was a night of redemption for some of my favorite veterans, Mao and Carolina. It was a night when the American ladies proved themselves, each with their own thing to prove, each getting it done. But it was also new names to the same old story. 

And not only because my favorite skater just missed the gold. I don't feel bad for Yuna's silver, and I don't really think she does either. She has a gold at home, and an Olympic silver medal is never anything to snuff at. It's more because once again emotion and excitement was passed off as artistry and given the nod over the complete package. It also feels like déjà vu that the favorite faltered. The immense pressure of ladies Olympic skating means that aside from Yuna in 2010 the favorite hasn't won in ages. Like late 80's or early 90's. Which just makes what Yuna did in Vancouver all the more incredible. 

It was close. I'd have given it to Yuna, the judges gave it to Adelina. That's life. I like Adelina's skating, but it's just not as mature, not a polished, not as moving. 

I am glad of several things: 

1. Carolina medaled and shared her exquisite program with all of us, on the world's largest stage, to the best of her ability. 

2. Mao skated brilliantly. And she's not done. Going to compete at worlds. 

3. A strong showing from all three American ladies (not to mention the men, pairs, and dancers who were also terrific). Looking forward to watching Gracie, Polina, and Amber Glenn battle it out in the years ahead (yes, I do think she will follow in their footsteps and make a splash on the senior scene). 

4. At the end of the day the US got the medal it came for: ice dance gold. And they deserved it. Scott and Tessa skated brilliantly, and it's tough to do that and take silver, but you never heard a peep out of 

Meryl or Charlie four years ago, so Moir can go sit in his sour grapes. 

5. At the end of the day, the best man won, the best pair won, the best dancers won. And the best lady smiled and waved politely and goes home to hang her silver proudly next to her gold. 

Kanchanaburi

This past Friday was a Buddhist holiday and thus a Thai holiday, so Robin and I headed to Kanchanaburi for the long weekend. Kanchanaburi is in the West, not far from the Burmese border. It's a beautiful province known for it's mountains, waterfalls, jungles, and WWII history. We took the bus there on Friday and had a relaxing time at the pool in the afternoon to recover from the ride. Then we walked to the War Cememtery and the night market before dinner. We rose early on Saturday for a day tour that included a trip to the seven steps of there famous Erawan Waterfalls, a ride on the Death Railway (the Japanese used POW's to construct at rail link from Thailand to Burma during the war- hard labor, malnutrition, and disease lead to the deaths of thousands of Allied POW's and tens of thousands of SE Asian forced laborers, a total of over 100,000 casualties), and ended at the Bridge over the River Kwai.  On Sunday we had a leisurely morning and went to the Thai-Burmese Death Railway Museum before taking the bus back to Bangkok. It was a trip I'd been wanting to make since I moved here, and it did not disappoint. 

Photos from the Kanchanaburi War Cemetery

While the hike at Erawan was beautiful,  stopping on the way down to swim was definitely the highlight. Not many pictures since we were in the falls, but Robin did get this one of me. Such a cool feeling under different types of falls. 

Death Railway pictures 

Bridge over the River Kwai- I love history, especially US history, especially 19th century history and World War history, so this was a huge highlight for me. 

Great weekend after what is every year,mthe most stressful week of work. 

My Olympic Predictions

My thoughts and predictions for who I want to win, and who I think will win :) 

Pairs: so the short program is in the books, which makes predicting a touch easier, but I think the Russians will hold on for gold, and I also believe they deserve it. I would love to see one of the Canadian teams make the podium, and the Germans collapse. I don't like their attitudes. 

Men: I want Patrick Chan to win- he is simply the best pure skater in the field. I want Plushenko to get the PCS scores he deserves, which is to say, much lower than what he got in the team event. I predict Chan will take the gold. Jason Brown will skate well and be loved by all, as always. Top ten finish. I don't have high hopes for Jeremy Abbott. 

Ladies: I think the gold comes down to Julia Lipniskia and Yuna Kim. If they skate well, no one can beat them. That said, I hope Yuna gets it. She is a much better skater than Julia. I'd love to see Carolina Kostner and/or Mao Asada on the podium.  And of course, I do love Gracie Gold. If she skates well, she's in the mix, but others will have to make mistakes for her to medal. And Ashley Wagner and her 'tude can just go home now. She has a shaky triple-triple at best when all the top girls have at least one solid triple-triple. Wagner is just not all that. At the press conference for the team event she referred to her team bronze as a "warm-up". Well honey, it's the only medal you're getting. Gracie quickly chimed in that she did not feel that way and that the team event meant something to her. Go Gracie. Also, I predict Polina Edmunds will skate clean, get fair PCS scores and do decently well, but she's not in the conversation with the big girls yet. I'd love to see her place ahead of Wagner, actually...

Dance: This is Meryl and Charlie's event to lose. And I hope they skate the way they have been every single time for the last two years. Every single day I read another interview with them and they grow classier with each one. The only thing out there as good as their skating is their sportsmanship. No one classier since the Kween herself.  I hope Tessa and Scott skate their best to make it even close, but I hope/think they are in for silver. Bronze will likely go to the Russians, but I like the French team better. I put Chock/Bates in 7th or 8th and the Shib Sibs in 10th. I'd be pretty happy with three American teams in the top 10! 

Mentors: all in the family

I have had a lot of great mentors in my life: youth leaders, coaches, professors, veteran teachers, and mighty women of faith. In the past few years I have come to specifically appreciate a special group of mentors who continue to stick around in my life: my aunts and uncles. I have a lot of them and there are few topics I could ever need advice on that would force me to look outside this group. 

Growing up, my aunts and uncles humored us in our play, watched our dances and musical performances, had us for sleepovers, and were generally a wonderful presence in our lives. But looking back, it's my teens and early 20's where they really stand out because in those years they allowed us to become adults. Not all families do this, allow the younger generation to grow into full fledged members of the family, but ours did. We were talked to (and listened to) as real people. Our opinions and experiences were valued. We weren't sitting at a kids table at holidays, rather we were able to listen in on the dynamic and always interesting conversations at the adults tables. We were given jobs to do- it wasn't all play and no work. No one walks away from a family holiday without contributing in some way, unless you're a guest or the family Matriarch or Patriarch. I loved learning how to properly set a table from my Gramma (and often wish she were here to remind me because I always get the silverware mixed up) and even young kids have to help clean up in some way. I don't think it's any coincidence that all of my adult cousins have grown into interesting, responsible, articulate people, even the boys, who did eventually grow out of their grunting years. Even now, when I'm in the States, my aunts and uncles are inviting me to dinner, meeting me for breakfast and generally expressing a desire to continue to be a part of my life even when I live far away. 

Behind us there is a younger group of cousins, once known as The Cool Kids Club, who are not kids anymore. In the last six years as they have started graduating from high school they too have become adult members of the family. I love it when they join the conversation and we all get to know them as they forge their adult identities. I feel like I've missed out on a lot with this group, spending nearly six of the last seven years overseas, so I am always delighted when I get to spend time with them. 

Next Friday, one of them will come to Bangkok to stay with me for a few months as part of her gap year between high school and college. She's going to volunteer at my school during the weekdays and hopefully run into plenty of fun and adventure the rest of the time. I am excited to get to know this witty creative cousin of mine in deeper ways and to walk with her through a small piece of this time in her life. Will it be work? Yeah. But it will also be completely worth it. 

Side note: personally, I believe there should only be two requirements for graduating from the kids table. One, a desire to sit with the adults and two, a low probability of knocking over somebody's wine glass at dinner. 

The Polar Vortex Comes to Bangkok

This winter, Michigan and many other states have experienced their lowest temperatures in 20 years. Meteorologists, or maybe just the media, have called it a Polar Vortex. But Michigan, this winter you've got nothing on Bangkok. 

In January of 2003 I visited my grandparents in Florida for a weekend. The temperatures were in the 60's and low 70's, which I of course thought was wonderful. My grandma? Not so much. One evening I was getting ready to set the table for dinner when I asked her whether we would be eating in the dining room or out on the lanai. She scoffed at me and told me we were eating inside because "It's too damn cold outside!" I thought she was crazy, but I obliged. 

Well, I spent my entire morning today wearing a big fuzzy hooded fleece. Usually winter in Bangkok is something like that feeling you get when you walk past an open refrigerator: brief, cool, but not really all that refreshing. This year, however, we've had an unseasonably long and cool winter. For weeks now we have had overnight temps in the 60's and daytime highs in the 80's, with low humidity.  I have used more Chapstick and lotion in the past 2 months than the past 2 years put together. And I'm still dry (and yes, the same thing happens every summer in the US). I haven't use the AC in who knows how long and I keep waking up expecting to find that it all disappeared overnight. Instead, I just wake up cold. 

This week I have even quit using the AC in my classroom and opted for open windows. I keep trying to open the doors as well to get a cross breeze (a room full of middle school students needs some kind of air movement) but yesterday they were asking me to close the door because it was too cold. 

So there I was this morning, walking to work in my wooly fleece feeling ridiculous. But later in the day I found out that this morning's 15.4C/60F was the lowest recorded temperature in Bangkok in 30 years. So now, I don't feel quite so ridiculous. Why? Because it's too damn cold outside. 

The Olympics Are Coming!!

I love the Olympic Games. I love the sports, I love the international community, I love the victorious winners and the kids from some distant land who only swim in preliminary heats and finish last. I even love the touching stories on NBC. In less than three weeks, the winter games will kick off in Sochi 

Russia and I will kick off my two week marathon of couch viewing. While there aren't a ton of sports I follow year round (skating  and baseball) I will watch just about anything in the Olympics: curling, fencing, rowing, luge, even biathalon (okay, maybe not too much biathalon). The winter games are, of course, better than the summer games, for the simple reason that they contain the Queen of Olympics sports: my beloved figure skating. This year, with the addition of the figure skating team event, there will be even more skating to watch!

I'll get to watch some of the afternoon events live, since Sochi is only 3 hours behind Bangkok, but probably not much of the later evening prime time stuff. I never seem to land in the right continent at the right time to catch winter Olympic action in a decent time zone. When the 1998 games were in Asia, I was in Michigan. The next games were in Salt Lake City, but I was in Europe. Four years later the games were in Italy and I was in the US. By 2010 the games were in North America (west coast) and I was in South America (an hour ahead of NY). Now, the games are back in Europe, and I'm in Asia. Sigh. But at least they are in the eastern side of Europe, as a 3 hour difference is definitely better than any of the others. 

A Post-vacation Vacation

After Mike and Sara headed back to Michigan's arctic vortex, I took an extra day in Singapore and then took a short ferry ride to Batam Island, Indonesia and spent two nights at a lovely spa resort nestled in the jungle. In addition to my session at the spa, I read books, watched movies, took naps, and tried to sit by the pool. The first two days I was there were sadly kind of cloudy with drizzle, but the last day was sunny and beautiful. It was great to have some green introvert time before coming back to the concrete jungle and real life. 

Tempat Senang Resort and Spa

NYE in Bangkok

Normally, I like a pretty quiet NYE: dinner at home with friends, a toast at midnight, and off to bed. Last year I had a great barbecue dinner on the beach with my mom and Matt and then we watched the fireworks off the coast of Koh Chang. Mike and Sara chose to spend New Years in Bangkok where we had dinner at the restaurant of Thailand's newest celebrity chef, which did not disappoint. We rang in the new year from the rooftop of a nearby hotel where we could see some of the fireworks going off across the city. A memorable night to be sure! 

NYE dinner part 1 

Part 2