Americans...

I've been living overseas too long.

The sight and sound of so many Americans in one place is disconcerting.  All I can do is sit back and observe, how loud they are, how upfront they are, and how completely comfortable they feel around each other. The confidence they show around one another and in any given situation is fascinating. They're not obnoxious when they're loud, that's just how they are; it shows their confidence. I just don't know how to respond in kind in such a situation. I know how to be loud in my own circle of friends (and usually in private), but being in public is another matter.

I feel introspective whenever I see Americans outside of America; like an outsider watching a new culture.  But isn't that telling?  Have I been gone too long that I don't know how to be "American"?  Even now, after being in Oregon for over a month, interacting with local, everyday Americans on a daily basis is jarring. I still feel like an outsider.


Perhaps it's because I am.

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men."

So...this is a blog draft that I found from 2014 that was never published.  Am I four years too late? Nah. I like to think of it as aging like fine wine.  I don't know what four year old wine tastes like to be honest, but I'd like to imagine it's better than one hour wine, so here you go...

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men."

Sure, you may recognize these lyrics from the popular Les Miserables musical, but here in Bangkok it has a whole new meaning.  In the throes of the Bangkok Shutdown, protesters have taken up these lines as their mantra; relating their struggles with the corrupt Thai government to the French Revolution.  Does it work?  Meh.  Is it a cool song to sing?  Definitely.

Banner near the Asok intersection

I won't even attempt to make sense of Thai politics or the Bangkok Shutdown, but the gist of what I've gathered is this:  PM Yingluck tried to pass an amnesty bill that would allow her exiled brother Thaksin (former PM and responsible for embezzling the equivalent to millions of dollars from the government), to return to Thailand fully pardoned.  This, of course, sparked cries of outrage from anti-government supporters who have merely tolerated Yingluck's office, believing that she has been controlled by her brother this whole time. 

Before continuing, it's important to know the color-coded protesters.  The red-shirts are considered the pro-government supporters and are comprised mainly of the poor to middle working class and rural inhabitants.  The yellow-shirts are supposedly anti-government protesters.  "Anti-government" doesn't mean they are anarchists who don't want to be ruled by a government; they are simply tired of the current government and want to elect new officials.  Coincidentally, yellow is the king's color and so the yellow-shirts are seen to rally behind him; however, the king has chosen to remain neutral.  So has the military.

Standing in honor of the Thai national
anthem at Asok intersection

Protesters at Asok intersection

Except when a military coup enforced a curfew. The curfew came at the end of May (the above picture was taken in February I believe), and caused city-wide panic.  Since the curfew was announced in the afternoon instructing all people in the Bangkok metro area to be indoors by 9pm, businesses, restaurants, grocery stores, and entertainment venues rushed to shut down in order to allow their employees enough time to get home.  Even then, traffic was gridlocked, and the skytrain was jam-packed with Thais fearful that they couldn't make it home in time.  What made it worse was that even taxis refused to take customers since they also had to be home by 9pm.
The curfew was then lifted to 11pm a week later.  I was still quite anxious, however, because I had booked my flight to the States well before the curfew was enacted, and it was a 6am flight.  With taxis unable to drive at 3am, I would have to get a taxi ridiculously early, and spend the night in the airport.  Thankfully another week later, it was lifted to 1am; still too early for my flight, but much more manageable.

The purpose of the curfew was to put an end to the protesters out in the streets at all hours of the night.  As you can see from the photos above, they literally blocked entire major intersections and camped out in the middle of the road on mats and in tents.  Most protesting was actually a joyous occasion for the Thais - other than blocking intersections, they were fairly orderly.  They set up a huge stage at the Asok intersection, and in between speakers, they used the stage to host concerts to keep people's spirits high in the midst of the tension and heat.  In fact, most of the clashes didn't erupt between the red and yellow shirts, but between the police and protestors.  Tear gas was sprayed into the midst of rallies in order to force them to dissipate.  Protesters retaliated with rocks and bottles.  But overall, the protests remained relatively peaceful.
The media, on the other hand, made it seem as though Bangkok was in complete anarchy.  Over 45 countries posted advisories on their embassy's website, warning citizens of the dangers of visiting Thailand.  As a Bangkok resident, I can heartily say, I have never felt unsafe in this city.  While foreigners have been warned to stay away from the protesting sites, which is easy to do, my life remains vastly unchanged through this "Bangkok Shutdown".  All this to say definitively that I am extremely safe in the midst of this nation's upheaval.

When God calls....and I take eight years to answer

It’s time to let the cat out of the bag.  It hasn’t been a secret, but I also haven’t been openly sharing with everyone - especially with people outside this tiny peninsula of mine.  Friends, I made the decision almost a year ago to leave the teaching field - possibly for good.

    May 30th will be my last official day with students.  June 8 will be my last official day as a teacher. I am planning on making the rocky transition into the missional/humanitarian field, working with refugees in Europe.  I say rocky because the path is entirely uncertain. This is my “plan” - but we all know what God does with our plans. I only hope I am not too blind to see how He directs my next steps.  To say that I feel ‘called’ is an understatement. The idea has slowly rooted itself into my soul and lay dormant for years while living in Asia, before igniting into a fire that cannot be ignored or snuffed out.  I had often kidded that I would love to go into the humanitarian sector full time if only I had a husband who could support me financially in the process (we all know humanitarianism is not a cash cow).

    Well, God did not provide me with a husband.  He did, however, provide me with a purpose. A purpose that quickens my heart, keeps me up at night with anticipation and longing, and makes my current ‘purpose’ pale in comparison.  Two years ago I prayed in earnest that God allow me to be His hands and feet. It has been the prayer of my heart while living in Korea. I was scared of such a prayer in Thailand for the petty reason that He would take me seriously when I wasn’t sure how He’d use me.  This only highlights my insecurities when I’m not in control. Those inhibitions have long since fallen away. The excuses I made for why I wasn’t ready to be His hands and feet seem ridiculous in light of who my God is. If He is almighty, He will take care of me. He is a father that will not give stones when his child asks for bread.

    And so the true adventure of trust began when I released all hold on my future. I made the decision to leave teaching in August, 2017 with no plans of coming back.  I purposely did not look for teaching positions abroad or in the States when October/November rolled around. I did not try to renew my contract at my current school. I did begin a fevered search for NGOs working specifically with refugees.  I researched Christian organizations associated with refugees. I filled out an application to join UNHCR, despite being totally unqualified. Needless to say, I never heard back from them.  And I reluctantly began exploring the possibility of becoming a missionary.

I’ve shied away from that term my whole life.  I always thought missionaries were trained as missionaries. They attended seminary school, they had a deep theological background, and they were the equivalent of homeschool kids - just as adults.  Images of remote villages without running water, and the sound of languages I would never truly understand caused me both panic and despair at my own feeble limitations.  I consider myself an outdoors person, but I can only handle ‘roughing it’ for about a week. It is not a lifestyle choice I would willingly choose to make. But that’s not the life of a missionary, is it? Missionaries exist in urban settings  just as much as rural ones; first-world nations, as well as developing ones. Missionaries are both introverts and extroverts. Some have the ability to learn languages easily, others struggle for years just to have conversational capabilities.  Some work within a team, while others are called to minister alone.

Over the summer I had a list of questions God had asked me repeatedly that I always responded with a resounding NO.  But by the end of the summer, I ran out of excuses. God reassured me on every point that those don’t matter if He is looking out for me.

    - Am I okay with leaving the teaching field?

    - Am I okay with not making stable money?

    - Am I okay with not planning my future 8 months in advance?

    - Am I okay with going back to Oregon while I figure out the transition into humanitarian work?

    - Am I okay with an unpredictable future?

    For someone who craves control, God was ultimately asking if I was willing to allow Him total control of my life.  I ran out of excuses. I ran out of a life plan. The only place to look was Christ and His wondrous plan. He was still waiting for me.  Waiting to begin His work in my life. Waiting to launch me on the ultimate adventure of faith. And I finally said yes.

    So Oregon it is for the next six months (hopefully) as I do the one thing that missionaries have in common: raise financial support.  I’m partnering with a mission sending agency and beginning a one year mission with them as I sort out what it means to be the hands and feet of God.  How long will this venture last? I have no idea. But I know He has something incredible in store for me. Eight days in Lesvos was enough for Him to break through my excuses to ultimate surrender.  It wasn’t torturous. It was a relief to finally say yes.  Because it means I don’t have to control every step of my life anymore. As independent as I am, I get tired making life decisions, I truly do. Now He can make them for me, and I know there won’t be any wrong decisions this time.

Skala Sikaminas harbor, Lesvos, Greece

    I realize I never got to the moment that God turned my heart around - it was on a rocky beach in Lesvos - but I will share some of my experiences in my next post.  This is a huge step into the unknown for me. I am excited, cautious, and yet filled with peace. As though this was God’s plan all along, and I am just now realizing where I need to be.  These next several months of limbo may actually be the hardest part of transition; what with reverse culture shock, moving back into my childhood home, and figuring out support-raising. For now, I ask for prayer.  That is what will get me through everything.

Trying to hold back the rain with a broom

I did not pick a good day to walk outside without an umbrella.  I had glanced up briefly as I opened the front door, decided the clouds would not fall, and locked the door firmly behind me.

Yet as I sat in my new favorite coffee haunt, aptly named Coffee Writer, I watched mist blanket the narrow strip of asphalt three feet from my open-air table.  Hmm, I wonder how long this will last?  I had watched it try to rain a couple times before, but in the end, the skies stayed white and the clouds floated by to fall on someone else.  I decided to wait it out, and read my book contentedly as the mist slowly became whole rain drops.  It was such a gradual process, that by the time I got up to to head  home, it was truly dreary weather.  Portland weather.  The kind of rain that was expected to stay all afternoon.  I couldn't sit at that open-air table all afternoon.
And so I set out into the steady rain with no umbrella, no newspaper, nothing to hold over my head.  I couldn't decide if I should walk straight home or run my errand -- either way I would be drenched by the time I made it up that colossal hill.
Hunching my shoulders, looking to all passersby like a pitiful farang (haven't learned the word for foreigner in Korean yet), I climbed the hills to the local shop and purchased a straw broom. Perhaps it was culturally taboo, but I still shielded my head with the light yellow broom; the resin smell wafting down.  I couldn't help but catch the eyes of the Koreans around me, huddled securely beneath colorful umbrellas, their thick-soled shoes stepping gingerly across the brick path.  Their brows furrowed, their eyes darted quizzically to mine, but they hurried along nonetheless.

Why is she using a broom as an umbrella?  I could almost hear their thoughts.  Silly foreigner.

I made it home, drenched, with no dignity in tact.  Be assured I know how to use a broom and an umbrella, but that day I had to be creative.

When my heart-language is English

*As I got ready to post another blog, I noticed this was still sitting here as a draft.  It's several months old, but relevant nonetheless.

Everyone has a heart-language; mine just happens to be English.

This phrase may be new to you, or perhaps you've never heard it before, but it's been used more and more in various circles I'm in.  Your 'heart-language' is simply your native tongue -- the language you are most familiar with and can use most adeptly.  Sometimes when I'm a part of group prayers, we ask everyone to speak in their heart-language.  This often means I get to hear people praying in Thai, Japanese, Ethiopian, Tagalog, Korean, English and sometimes the odd European language thrown in the mix.  While I never understand the non-English languages, it tickles my ears listening to the sounds of them.  Everyone around me can speak English, but they are more proficient in their native tongue.
And that's where my admiration turns to envy.  And self-pitying.

You see, many of the people I know speak multiple languages.  They're not just bilingual.  They're trilingual.  They're multilingual. And yet they are still perfectly proficient in my language.

And I don't understand.

I don't understand how they can speak English so well.  Our conversations flow so smoothly that I take for granted that English isn't their first language.  I forget that they had to learn English as a foreign language the way I tried learning Spanish.  The way I tried learning Thai.  Only the difference between us is that they succeeded.  If I tried really hard and thought through what I wanted to say ahead of time, I could get through a conversation in Spanish.  I can't really say I know how to do that in Thai.  I've lived in Thailand for almost 6 years, and my language acquisition is abysmal.  Sure, I could use some pretty legit excuses like: I work in an English-speaking school, I go to an English-speaking church, I'm an English teacher so I have to train others in my native tongue, blah, blah, blah.  All that is true.  But even I don't buy these excuses.

I continue to compare myself to my students who learn my language.  I compare myself to my friends who grew up in a bilingual home.  I compare myself to friends who set out to learn a new language and succeed. And I fight back feelings of jealousy, frustration, self-pity, and resentment. A life of comparison is not a life at all.  I know this in my head, but I struggle living it in my day to day life in a foreign country.

I'll talk to fellow colleagues about how they learn Thai (yet another comparison technique), and some will say things like, "I learned a few phrases, then just went out and started talking to Thais and they helped me with the rest."  Another teacher told me he sat down with the Thai alphabet and Youtube and practiced writing the letters until he could read and write.

For someone like me, who struggles infinitely with language acquisition, hearing how it comes easily for others leaves me discouraged.

So I try to comfort myself with the fact that growing up speaking English is something millions of people world-wide wish they had the opportunity to do.  It's a shallow comfort at best.  I know my language is a commodity outside of English speaking countries -- I've lost count of how many random people have asked me to teach them English (taxi drivers, vendors, etc.) -- but that doesn't negate the value of their language, or how they can communicate with me in mine, but I can't in theirs.

Despite my efforts to speak a foreign language, I think I can firmly say that it is by and large lost on me. I've learned enough Thai to get by.  In my younger years, I felt comfortable enough to say my Spanish was decent (it's not anymore).  Clearly, neither one of these is a heart language of mine.

But English is.

As a teacher of the language, I've honed my craft.  Communication -- understanding others and being understood -- is something that I've worked on for years both in and out of the classroom.  So if you're ever wondering which language I will most likely use in order to be intelligible, try English.  I've tried other languages, and felt like an imposter the whole time.  So please forgive me if I stumble through your language; it isn't the first time, and I guarantee you it won't be the last.

The past year in review...

It's been a year to the day, and life has sure enough changed.  In no particular order...

1)  I'm a bit rusty at blogging -- it's embarrassing that I call myself a writer, teach writing, but don't take time to write.
2)  I've started my 6TH YEAR of teaching in Thailand
3)  Thailand is still under military rule -- and on a side note, a major bombing happened 5 days ago in central Bangkok, killing 19 and injuring 120+ people
4)  My grandpa died in May
5)  I took a 6-week adventure through Europe, hitting up Turkey, Croatia, Prague, and Spain.  Summer was life-changing.  It will take several blog posts to write about it, and if you're lucky, I actually will.  By Christmas. Or maybe before next summer.
6)  I'm renewing my teaching license yet again, and am taking another online course that I loathe.  Online classes stress me out.  I thrive in a classroom and would enjoy it much better if I was with others in class.
7)  My tita died a week ago, bringing me on an impromptu trip to the Philippines (where I am now)
8)  I've caught no less than a half dozen rats in my apartment -- and I've started at least that many blog posts about this very subject....and never published them, as is my habit apparently.
9)  A nephew has popped into my life, and so far I've only spent a few days with him as a new born. So that means making a miserable flight back to America in the winter.  The worst time to travel back.  But I want to be a good aunt and be there for his 1st birthday.  Ah, the sacrifices I make...
10)  I've been cooking a lot of pinterest recipes lately, and love it.  My latest kick: pureed soups.  I have a freezer full of soup.  Come by and eat some for me.  Seriously.  Just let me know so I can defrost it before you come.
11)  I joined the iPhone family a month ago and love it.  A little too much.

What do I have to do to get a phone plan around here??

*This post is a couple weeks old, but I started it, then got distracted with life.*

These last few days have been a bit frustrating in a few ways.  School starts on Tuesday (just 4 days away), and although I am teaching the same subjects again, I feel about as prepared as I did last year about this time.  My classroom is taking shape, but I haven't actually laid out my lesson plans for the first week yet, and that makes me mad at myself.  Sure, I could use a very real excuse -- I just got in 3 days ago and am still dealing with jet-lag.  Sure, I am still waking up at 4am and going to bed before 9pm.  But excuses only go so far -- especially when I'm making the excuses to myself.
Riding the curtails of work frustrations is the annoying factor of my phone (technology constantly plagues me).  I had purposely terminated my service with True the day I left Thailand for the summer so that I could begin fresh with AIS once I returned.  In theory, this was a sound plan -- I wouldn't have to pay a 2 month phone bill while State-side, I could just walk in to AIS and sign up once I got back, and I would be rid of True by June.  However, my first two attempts proved to be fruitless.  #1: I went to a mall that didn't even have an AIS store; #2: when I did go to the right mall, my phone chose that moment to die.  I even tried tracking down a new battery, but gave up my search after 3 different phone stores gave me the run-around.

Today I was going to cover all my bases -- I charged my battery last night and promptly turned it off so the battery would still be fresh by the afternoon, and I successfully made it to the right mall--with my passport and Thai residency card.  I waited in line until my number was called and walked up to the right counter when I heard soon-pbet-hok-si (0864), all the while praying that the woman would be able to understand my simplified English and halting Thai.  Thank God, she did! She walked me through the different plan options, then pointed out one that I had my eye on since my last fruitless venture to the store: the 399 baht plan that included unlimited 3G data and 100 minutes of talk time.  She even told me it was their 'special teacher discount' offer.  I smiled gratefully and said it was perfect. My last plan with True was twice that with only 2G data, so teacher discount or not, it was a much better deal.  She also assured me that I could keep my old phone number so I could avoid the task of emailing/facebooking everyone with new digits.

Things were starting to look up.  I felt my frantic heart slow down and I was able to smile at the very helpful rep without it being forced.  Even when she told me it would take 3 days for the plan to take effect, and I couldn't use my phone until Monday, I didn't sink into despair.  Because at least things were in the process of being done.  Patience is not a virtue I possess.  I hate waiting.  But two things made the thought of waiting bearable:  #1: I knew that my phone would work by Monday; this was just the process of the phone service; #2: after all the trouble I went through for this stupid phone service change, it was nice to see myself moving forward instead of standing still.  Now, I don't remember there being a 3-day wait when I was with True, but I'll take what I can get at this point.  And so I tucked my new SIM card into my wallet so I'd be ready to pop it in on Monday, thanked her profusely, and left the store feeling accomplished.

Monday came and went.

Nothing happened.

Tuesday came and the SIM card still wouldn't activate.  So with frustration mounting yet again, I marched back into the AIS store and showed them my defective phone.  The rep had to call over a manager who spoke decent English so we can work through the problem together.  As it turned out, because I had already cut my service with True before trying to set up an account with AIS, my old phone number was deactivated and was no longer usable by me.  I didn't think this would be such a big issue, but they had to call True and talk to them about my old number and the plan that I had with them.  So when all was said and done, I couldn't use my old number, and had to choose a new AIS number from their list.  Since I hate memorizing numbers, I told them to give me one with repeating digits.  They were quite accommodating, and as it turns out, I do like my number -- and I was able to use it immediately!  If I knew the 3-day wait was for them to transfer my number from True to AIS, I would have ditched it in a heartbeat!  So with my new service all set up, internet working, and phone able to receive calls, I left the store only slightly disheveled.

Needless to say, I did learn a lot about how phone companies and such work in Thailand, so if you are struggling with phone plan issues, let me know.  I probably experienced them too.